[c]A Quiet Moment, Danry

[Henry Scarborough]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 9:45am

It was the name of a racehorse in Denver, he was being boarded at the stallion station where breeders came to look over prospective studs to cover their mares come winter. A Quiet Moment was having himself exactly that, nibbling at his hay in a basket on his door when Henry walked past the day before and decided that when he went to see Danny tomorrow, he would asked him if he wanted to go fishing. He had wanted to ask him, been meaning to for a while but knew he would say no, so why bother? Every morning after opening the bank Scarborough would head on down to Hellfire and check up on his friend, here lately he had been with that horse, strengthening their bond and earning his trust, teaching Asher what it felt like to be loved. Henry did not regret buying the horse, never would. Rusty had checked on his cousin in those trying times when Henry left Hellfire, and Buffalo Creek all together in May, living alone in Denver where he sat in his apartment everyday contemplating if he should just end it all, knowing Bella would not come for him. Henry only felt it was right to check on his friend in the same way, whether he ever showed it or not, Heck was grateful for his cousin’s visits, he knew he cared, someone cared and that was all the encouragement he needed to hold on and not give up.

Wabash was fit as a fiddle again as Henry reined him up that road, steering him toward the prairie that would take them by the house, he would wave to anyone in the yard and turn his steed west toward Hellfire Ranch. Yolanda had come for her son last week, Henry missed the boy and couldn’t wait for him to come see him next summer, but until then they would keep in touch through letters. The black paint normally would have tried to head for the stables but after a few weeks of this he knew he would be going to the left, up the road to see his buddy Buck and he picked up into a spirited canter without prompting. The temperatures were already beginning to die down as the last leg of summer approached and Henry was happy for it, he hated hot weather. Bella on the other hand was another story. They had been trying for a baby for some months now and still nothing, she was really beginning to feel she was indeed barren and Heck could tell it really bothered her. She felt if she couldn’t have more children, what good was she? No matter how many times he told her if she was sterile he was okay with that, that it didn’t matter if they had more kids or not he would still love her, every day. It was like she was inconsolable and to a point Henry just got frustrated and didn’t feel like dealing with it any further.

He needed a quiet moment. Pulling up within that open area around the ranch house he bet Darla was happy as hell to see him here again, he was like clockwork, a quarter till ten right on the money every time. Henry was a punctual man, if he said he was going to be somewhere at a certain time, he would be, all his friends knew this. Trusting him may have been questionable, relying on him, never failed. Pulling Wabby to the side he rode up to the barn where he expected his friend to be and dismounted, taking the reins and leading his horse inside to the unmistakable sound of milk squirting into a bucket, “Mornin’ Mister Helm,” he chirped, always happy to see his buddy. Scarborough tethered Wabash to a hitch and approached the dairy cow stalls where the rancher was squatted over a three legged stool milking one of his cows, “Ya know I always said milkin the cows was women’s work, but I could never make Bell do that.” Henry had three Guernsey heifers he milked every morning at about six o’clock. Milk, butter and cheese for his home, his family and once in a while, his store. All the barn cats were out of course and Henry was reminded he still had kittens running around, “I was milkin Abigail this mornin, one of those damn kittens came up an’ tried t’drink the milk out of the bucket and f***in fell in. I woulda killed ‘im if he didn’ look so pitiful.” that was the highlight of his morning and he hoped it served to brighten Danny up for his next question, “So uh . . . you have three ponds . . . I was wonderin if maybe you, I already brought my pole.” then of course he donned that expression that told Danny he would be simply devastated if he turned down his want to go fishing with him, not just go fishing but go with him. Come to think of it, Henry didn’t have a whole lot of friends, especially none that would drop whatever it was they were doing to humor him at the water hole for an hour or two. Tilting his head like a puppy he curled the corner of his mouth like usual, “Please?”

[Daniel Helm]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
9:45 am

It’d been well over a month since Henry Scarborough had brought that hellish beast to his ranch, set lose that black devil in his round pen and left him to the care of the haggard rancher. Back then the horse had nothing but fire in his eyes and a hunger in his belly. Then his coat was all sorts of mangy, patchy with the nodes of his spine protruding down the length of his back like washboard rungs. He had a temper to rival any bout of rage that Daniel Helm could conjure, threw his head at any fell of a rope and bit like he poured every ounce of energy into it. It wasn’t uncommon for Daniel to return to bed those firs few weeks with angry yellow blotching bruises all over his arms and sometimes even his shoulders, a few even on the fleshy part of his ass. The horse had no mercy for the deeds of the good man. Danny only thought it appropriate to name the creature Asher, the translation of the Hebrew name “Happiness” and “Joy” because that’s just what the horse found in biting the tar outta him.

But time had passed and those bruises had faded. The gaunt holes between the horses ribs had filled out and his coat had grew back. The scars on his hindquarters and haunches were barely visible now midst that shimmering ebony hair. And with the changing of the horses appearance, so did his attitude. He didn’t bite much anymore, only when other folks would come near the round pen when Daniel was working with the cross. It’d taken time but that horse had learned to trust the rancher to the point that the animal was more like a loyal dog than he were a horse. Whenever Daniel was out doing work around the yard Asher took to following him around, even jumped the fence a few times just to make sure he had a good eye on Danny when he’d go about chopping wood or milking the cows in the barn. Asher warmed up to Danny might quick and with that the horse became incredibly protective. Even a hand laid on the man’s shoulder riled that horse up like no other. It would take time for Danny to train him to trust others but for now, just trusting him was all that was truly needed.

That horse wasn’t the only thing that’d been healing the past month either. The rancher had finally come to accept the loss his unborn son, though he did with a burdened heart. Accepting the boy’s death did make him better, didn’t make his depression go away but it made him believe that he had the ability to be better again. Putting his heart and soul into fixing up that horse reminded him of how life could better itself, even when everything was gone and nothing was going right, there was hope yet. Daniel Helm wasn’t healed, he wasn’t better but he had faith that just maybe he could be with a little more hard work. And maybe, just maybe, talking about his inner most demons would do some good to save him too. Though Henry Scarborough was already helping him enough as it was. Though he would never be one to admit it, the daily visits did quite a lot for his mood, let him know at least someone in this whole god forsaken town had sympathy for the loss of the child and the near loss of his damn mind. That man had a hell of a lot of baggage for his age, wronged Danny more times than he could rightly remember, but when it came down to it, Scarborough was a good man. A good man Daniel was more than honored to call his friend.

Ever punctual Danny couldn’t rightly hide the smirk from his face when Henry appeared over the stall in the barn, snickering at his chipper mood. “Morning Henry, on time as usual.” He eased back a little and let Mina have herself as he was done for the morning. He always did like this cow more than he did the woman he named her after. “Women’s work, huh? Well I guess I should be out here in a dress and matching shoes too.” He stood up and leaned across the stall, giving a side glance to Wabby, he sure was looking a lot better than the last he’d seen him. “All our barn cats know they get a take of some the milk afterward so they’re pretty decent about keeping to themselves when I’m doing my work.” He rose up and poured the milk into a basin, not before setting out a small saucer for the barn cats who almost immediately descended from the rafters to lap it up. Now what came next Danny had been waiting for the past month and a half. Henry was always one who liked to fish and he was impressed that he had taken this long to ask.

“Why not? The north pasture pond is small but has the best fishin,” He answered nonchalantly, moving to a cabinet in the corner of the barn and retrieving his fishing supplies. “I think I’ll take Buck too, he sure does miss Wabby something awful.” After only a few moments of gathering up his trusty gelding and saddling he had reins in hands and poles lashed to the pillion. “You ready or not?”

[Henry Scarborough]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 9:45am

It had been an interesting month as Henry had mounted his campaign with the encouragement of his friends and support of the Denver mayor. His first speech given just a few days ago, after putting out flyers and what not there was quite a turnout, including an appearance from the Colorado governor, so the humble banker got to come home and say he had met Governor McCook. He seemed like a nice fella and the two had shaken hands and exchanged a few words but the man Henry mostly spoke with was Cyrus Savage who had to campaign last year to keep his spot as district judge. The poll results had come out yesterday and it would seem Henry’s speech had garnered him a few followers who had faith in his judgment. Going against what Savage had suggested Henry gave his first speech in those dark trousers, tan leather duster he was so well known for, his dusty boots and flat brimmed black felt hat like he had just come on over after tending to the cattle that morning, which he had. Scarborough assured the people of the crowd that he was nothing more than a good natured cowboy that knew his way around numbers, giving that ‘good guy’ vibe that apparently forty-six percent of the poll voters had liked. Being the underdog anyone would have been surprised as hell to see his numbers reach past the twentieth percentile but well into the forties was astonishing some, especially the party he was running against. The man from seventy miles up the Denver Pacific line was hovering dangerously close to the fifty percent mark.

He was all smiles as usual, that infectious grin that seemed to charm everyone no matter what kind of day they were having, unless of course it was his wife . . . or maybe Danny’s wife. But he wouldn’t let that or anything else get to him, especially not today as he sought out his friend in the barn. Whatever tension had built up between the two during those trying times of his opium addiction back in the spring, was seemingly over and Henry was grateful for it. The reciprocating smile from Helm only broadened Henry’s, he may have been selfish at times, juvenile and never took the blame or responsibility for his actions but nothing made him happier than making other people happy. It was what had made him such a good teacher, watching a child’s face brighten when he read his first sentence all by himself, got a good grade after studying his words, wrote a paper. Lightheartedly drawing his brows together in a playfully thoughtful guise Henry tilted his head back, looking down his nose at Danny, “Of course I’m on time, I’m always on time . . . unless it’s a dentist appointment.” he added quietly. Never failed, he was always late to those but having someone’s hands in his mouth was not exactly something to look forward to. The doctor though, well Heck steered clear of that particular medical practitioner altogether. The best way to tell if Henry was excited about something was by how early he chose to show up.

Chuckling warmly at his friend’s exchange of banter, “I’m sure you’d wear it well.” Henry watched Helm finish up and stand next to the heifer mentioning his cats that lurked in the beams of the roof, observing the rancher with undying impatience in their hungry eyes, “I don’t make a whole lotta money off the milk I get, hell sometimes I give it away. Wasn’t a real big deal when that cat fell in it, gave me a good laugh though once I knew he wouldn’ drown.” a cat drowning in a bucket of fresh milk should be the definition of irony. But Henry’s dogs were like Danny’s cats, if anyone walked around not doing anything they were fair game for a slimy stick shoved in the hand. But when Scarborough had a shovel or a rake in his possession they respectfully kept their distance, fully understanding he was working and not ready to play just yet.

The look that came over Heck’s face when Danny agreed to go fishing with him was that of joy and disbelief. But he was serious, went right on over to the cabinet and fetched his things, took up a pole and saddled Buck. Wabby watched with ears swiveled forward, an inquisitive eye on his buckskin buddy as Helm saddled him up, “He’s missed him too, bored as hell in that stable at home.” the never faltering glow of happiness on Henry’s face took in the scene before him and he hoped that soon Danny could be back to his old self. Heck was ever so slowly returning to that happy-go-lucky, spontaneous, giddy fella he had been years ago when he first rode into this place. Back when people talked about him with a humor in their voice, said he was a good guy, a sweet fella that couldn’t seem to shake the silliness of his youth even at twenty-six years old. That was before everyone found out Scarborough could be a real asshole if he wanted to be, before his drinking got really bad, before running off on his pregnant fiancée. Water under the bridge.

Tilting his head at Danny’s question Henry had been waiting for this dream to end the whole time, not really believing Daniel Helm was suiting up for a trip to the water hole. The paint stud snorted as if to answer the rancher’s question, “I reckon, can’t race ya no more though, Wabby’s not a young colt this time around.” he informed and mounted up. His statement had been proved the last time he rode the horse as hard as he had years ago when he was racing him, those front legs could get a little tricky on him. Running his fingers through his thick hair Henry knew in time he would be cutting it again. After telling Bella he would grow it out one last time, he planned on cutting it before the election and then keeping it cropped short from then on, he was a grown man, no sense in having his hair that long anymore. Mounting up, the banker nudged his heels into the sides of his steed and urged him forward, the riders left the barn on their way to the north pasture, “Got any bulls in that pasture that’ll try t’eat me?” he asked humorously as the horses entered the warmth of the sun beyond the shadow of the barn.

[Daniel Helm]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
9:45 am

The gelding gnawed at his reins nonchalantly, working the metal bit between his jaws as his rider gathered the rest of the fishing gear and lashed it to the back of the saddle. He was an idle creature now, had taken to the slower and much more laid back leisure of his life as he was not Helm’s only horse able to work the cattle on the ranch. From the life as a pony in the Express, to a land officer’s trusty steed to mount for one of the largest ranching outfits in Colorado, the old overo needed his time to just enjoy his life. But Daniel Helm knew for a fact that Buck would never forgive him if he went off fishing with Henry and Wabby and didn’t bring him along. Some folks didn’t believe animals had the ability to feel emotions or any sort of thing like that, but from working with them the entirety of his life Danny would like to tell all those folks to shut their food holes. Buck was just as much a human being as he was, he felt happiness and sadness, he knew pain and sorrow, he had memories and he had friends. And Danny knew there would be no end to Buck’s ass biting if he went and left him locked up in the stables having to watch Danny ride off with his best friend and his rider in tow. Taking Buck’s reins in hand he lead him along with their companions out the barn, smiling a little as he reached behind and ran his fingers along the cross’ neck, “I don’t think Buck would be much up to riding that hard either, he’d want to, I’m sure. But those legs, after being only in the pasture for the past few weeks, they’re bound to be a little loose.” Buck nipped at the fraying tufts of his rider’s hair, almost in protest.

Taking the group past the ranch house he paused suddenly, a wide grin spread across his lips as he dropped the reins. “Hold on a sec, Henry. I gotta get some things outta the house.” With not much explanation the rancher bolted off into the ranch house, spending the next five minutes inside, where loud bangs and clattering objects could be heard echoing off the walls. Not long after the sounds of what might have been Ming yelling at Danny for causing a ruckus in the house he had bolted back out with a satchel curled up in his arms. Using one hand to swing up into the saddle he urged Buck into a canter, calling back to Henry, “C’mon!” Once they’d cleared the house a good hundred yards or so he pulled them back to a lumbering walk, smiling at Henry like an idiot as he put the satchel back behind him. “Had t’get lunch, figured we’d be here a while.” Danny couldn’t stop smiling, that smile he’d been hiding for the past two months finally catching his eyes. “Ming wasn’t too happy of me making a mess in her kitchen either,” He paused and snickered, “And yes, I mean her kitchen. Sure as hell ain’t Darla’s. She can’t cook t’save her life. I’ve made more meals in that house than she has.”

They’d passed the west pasture when they came to the split in the road, heading up toward the north pasture gate. Danny dismounted to open the door for his comrade and without even needing to be prompted Buck followed inside. “Naw, we just got Bruce in this pasture. If you stay away from his ladies he tends to stay away from you. But just in case,” He reached into the satchel after remounting and tossed Henry an apple. “He’s a big sucker for treats so if he comes to sniff ya out just give ‘im that, you’ll be best buds in no time.”

It wasn’t much longer, after riding through the groups of cattle, the calves racing up to the horses before darting back off to their mothers. Past the shade trees in the far back of the pasture, right along the fence line there was the pond. It was calm, the only noises spare for the birds in the trees was the bawling of the cattle who’d taken their leave after the arrival of the two men. Across the way there was a boulder that just barely cropped over the sandy bank. “That looks the best place to fish if I ever did see one.” Setting out his gear and the food satchel Danny removed Buck’s saddle and bridle and let the horse to his own doings with his stud counterpart. “So you never really told me what you thought of me starting this ranch. You think she’s filling out good? Like the pastures?”

[Henry Scarborough]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 10:00am

Both men agreed that their mounts just weren’t up to a hard run today and since Henry knew Wabash had been run hard enough to last him two lifetimes it was time to take it easy on the old boy. Racing him at two and three years old hadn’t been too kind to him and then running him after outlaws for four years all over the goddamn country had a tendency to wear down most horses into the slaughterhouse, but Henry took care of his steed despite asking so much from him, “I was chasin a man in Arizona once, I mean chasin ‘im, as hard as we could go across that desert in f***in August, had t’be over a-hundred degrees out there. My boy started bleedin from the nose and I pulled ‘im, I couldn’ push ‘im anymore. Felt so damn bad about that but even if that man was worth two-hundred-thousand dollars I wouldn’ve pushed ‘im anymore. Same couldn’ be said for the bounty, he beat the shit outta his little mare for another ten miles until she just fell down an’ died. I found’im the next day, story ended for him right there.” since then the banker hadn’t forced his horse to run anymore, no more spurs, no more whips, just a shake of the reins and if Wabash got tired and slowed up Henry didn’t push him. Being a former racehorse the stallion was good about pacing himself, slowing up on hills and valleys and then opening up in the straightaways and level places.

Heck mounted up, watching Danny run off toward the house with a grin on his face. The black paint watched the buckskin, ears nearly touching at their tips he had them trained forward so far. It was fun to whisper something once in a while and watch one of those ears flick back, thinking his rider was telling him to do something. But a chuckle often informed the horse that Heck was just messing around like always. The rancher came bounding back with that energy Henry had missed for a long while, planting a smile on the banker’s face that he could not shake, happy for his friend. Finding happiness in others was something the man yearned for, seeing his friends upset about anything and he would sell his soul to see them smile again, “After you Mister Hellfire.” that moniker he had been meaning to try out just slipped his lip as Danny mounted up and urged them onward toward the north pasture with a canvas bag under one arm. Tapping his heels into his mount’s flanks Heck encouraged the horse into a light canter to follow the buckskin paint up the trail between the east and west pasture. Soft lows of the black angus cattle played on the thick summer air, heat waves dancing off in the distance as a bead of sweat slithered down Henry’s back. He couldn’t wait for things to cool off a little more, though they had already he wanted to see his damn breath here soon or he would go mad with this heat.

“Lunch is in two hours, I could certainly fish for that long, so long as I’m dry.” if he got wet he would be less apt to want to hang around, unless Danny didn’t mind him taking his clothes off and hanging them in the trees to dry. Henry lit a cigarette as Helm went on about Ming and her kitchen, the banker chuckled good naturedly, “Ming can cook I’ve heard, Rusty talks about ‘er a lot, he might have a little crush . . . Scarborough’s are notorious for not bein able t’keep it in their pants ya know, that poor woman.” now he laughed. Surely Danny didn’t want to suddenly find that his housemaid was crippled, or worse yet in need of time off to birth some bastard child. But he could now consider himself warned.

Expressing his concerns for the possibilities of breeding bulls hanging around the pasture Danny quickly assured his friend he had nothing to worry about. He had dealt with some nasty brutes in his life, especially on that ranch in Nebraska where he worked in sixty-two. It all depended on breeding, and no Helm bull had ever even looked at him funny, Rainer’s bulls were something else entirely and Henry owned two of them, “That’s good t’know, Hoss an’ Big Red would run my ass over if I tried t’fish in their pond.” he scoffed and caught the apple Danny tossed him, still had good hand eye coordination to catch stuff, like he had in New York. He quipped that he would keep the advice in mind and pocketed the yellow fruit in that tan duster, took another drag off his cigarette and picked some brush out of Wabby’s mane while the calves came to check them out. The paint pinned his ears and lifted a rear leg clear to his belly, a threat not to be taken mildly, “Ah ah, this is why you’re not a cow horse.” the banker corrected his temperamental mount.

“Nice’n shady.” Henry smiled at the fishing spot, thank goodness for that. Fish liked the shade too, this would be an easy day to drop a line, “Well Danny Boy I must say by ranch standards this is the best one I’ve ever seen . . . and I’ve seen a hellova lotta ranches. Worked on a lot too. I’ll even go as far t’say,” he paused, pinching out that rollup and threw a leg over his mount’s head and dismounted in typical Henry fashion, “that I’m jealous.”

[Daniel Helm]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
10:15 am

Two months ago Daniel Helm wouldn’t have thought he’d make it this far with any amount of sanity left in his weary mind or strength in his fragile bones. Life had a way of killing a man well before his time, there was a lot less than this that’s put young men in early graves and for those two months Danny was wondering how long he could keep fighting until his heart would just give out. There had been documented accounts of folks dropping dead from heartache, just crawling into bed one night and falling into a slumber they’d never wake from. Each morning Daniel would manage to open his eyes he wasn’t sure if he should praise himself for making it this far or hate himself for being stupid enough for holding on. That child had been his future, had been the physical embodiment of all his dreams and they’d lost him. When they put his son into the ground Danny just wanted to crawl into the hole and let them bury him too. It wasn’t for what was, but what could have been. What was he going to look like? Was he gonna be like his ma or his Pa? What would his face look like when he first learned how to shoot his own gun or ride his first horse? Was he gonna be a doctor? The president? There were so many questions, so many things left unanswered. Daniel mourned for the son he could’ve had. Betrayal had wormed it’s way into his heart, guilt, anger, sadness, depression- it consumed him just like the Colorado dirt had his unborn child’s casket.

But time had passed and the wound was slowly beginning to heal itself, the gapping hole in his belly mending and becoming whole once more. He still visited the old oak past the western pasture where’d they’d buried their baby. There was no way of changing the past now, what was done was done and though he had no faith in having children any time soon or ever for that matter he was getting better. He wasn’t perfect yet, but with the support from his friend Henry Scarborough and that healing black gelding he’d given him, he’d learned to move past that horrid memory. It’d been two months since Danny could actually enjoy himself around Henry, having secretly been envious of the man for having children to fall back upon after the loss of his own unborn child, but that was done now and he was just happy to be spending the afternoon with his long time friend.

Clambering up that boulder he hid their lunch in the shade to keep it cool. After situation himself he patted the rock beside him, “Take a seat, Heck.” Before he prepared his line though he began to remove his boots. Tossed the socks and the dusty things into a heap in the grass, rolling up the legs of his pants to dip his feet into the cool surface. “Now this is already shaping up to be far better than milking the cows.” He glanced over to his friend as he dismounted, that grin ever present as it seemed to only grow at his friend’s thoughts on the ranch. Some days he doubted himself for ever starting this place, but days like this he cursed himself for ever thinking it. “That means a whole lot to me Henry, you don’t realize it. Though I don’t see you needin’ t’be jealous Mr. Buisness man over here,” He chuckled, “Don’t you own half of Main street’s shops now?”

Finally mending his line and hook for the water he tossed it in, sitting back for a long moment staring into the water’s surface before his nose crinkled. “Wait a minute….did you call me Mister Hellfire back at the barn?” He arced a brow skeptically for a moment before he sounded it out a few times with a shrug, “Ya know what? I like the sound of it. I think I’ll just hafta steal that and sign my checks with it too.” Waiting patiently for Henry to gather his bearings and set himself Danny kicked his legs back and forth gently, looking almost like a giant child splashing at the bank. Something that was a glad change for many to see after watching Helm mope around for the past two months.

“Asher is doing really well now, ya know? He’s a hell of a horse let me tell you.” Daniel would never be able to thank Henry enough for giving him that creature, him and Asher together probably the sole reasons that he made it to the end of summer. “He don’t bite me no more, doesn’t run from me either. He’s really protective actually, jumped the fence yesterday when Rusty was walking with me to the round pen and Asher chased his ass all around the front yard. Funniest shit I’ve seen all week,” He laughed happily, snorting a little. “He’s a great one, couldn’t be happier to call ‘im my own.” Daniel paused a moment, clearing his throat as he became serious, “Thank you….so much for givin’ to me. I mean it.” Before he could ruin their fun with any more sappiness though he straightened up and squinted at the sun, “We’re still meaning to make our big début in town though. Can’t wait to see everyone’s faces.”

[Henry Scarborough]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 10:20am

The polls had come out yesterday, the first poll of the election in fact and Henry didn’t know if his friend had read them. It was in the Rocky Mountain Times but he was sure if the rancher even read the paper he probably skipped over the political section. Where everyone had expected the banker to fall flat on this first wave of votes he had instead hit the ground running with a strong first showing that stole 46% of the popular vote. As his numbers hovered dangerously close to the fifty percent mark his competition had been shaken into action and he would later take note of a stronger campaign from his counterpart, Lachlan MacDermott, not that it would do the Irishman any good in the long run.

But here he was in the midst of the prairie, the trees growing thick at the edges of the big North Pasture pond shading them and their horses as they drew nearer. After dismounting Henry loosened the cinch on his steed’s saddle, lifting it clear of the paint’s back and tossing it over the low hanging branch of an elm tree, then slipped the bridle off the patient stallion who immediately went for the edge of the water and had himself a good drink. All the banker had to do was whistle and the paint would come running back to him but for now Wabash arched his neck and marched up to his friend, flicking his tail to get his attention. Once he was sure the buckskin was watching he raced off into the prairie, skipping a few times before lashing out with a double barrel kick of his powerful quarters, showing off no doubt. Standing in the sunshine the stud put his nose to the wind, flaring his nostrils and gave a shrill whinny in hopes of receiving a reply, twisting his ears around but otherwise remaining perfectly motionless with the prairie winds combing his mane and tail. He must not have heard anything that interested him as he came trotting back to nudge the gelding with his nose, if he got too excited, Henry was sure the buckskin would just reprimand his smaller friend into behaving, kind of like their riders.

Gazing over the glassy surface of the water it reminded him of his cousin’s story about how he ran into Ming at one of the Hellfire ponds and she had been fishing with something that smelled horrible. So bad in fact that the foreman had opted to stand upwind of her and fish with bread balls. After the little China woman had pulled fish after fish out of the pond and Rusty was still left with nothing he rolled up his pants and went wading into the water and caught a fifteen pound catfish with his bare hands. Henry was not even aware one could catch a fish with their hands.

He watched Danny dip his feet into the water and observed the murky surface, “Uh yeah, I don’t put my feet in water I can’t see through.” he laughed, “No more crawdads for me.” he reminisced on the embarrassing moment that had transpired in the saloon that day, the same day he had ridden his crazy ass horse into the bar. Wabash snatched up a mouthful of grass and sprinted away a short distance, tail curled over his back like an Arab as if he had stolen the morsel. He was certainly full of beans today, or maybe just excited to see his friend because he always came back to the calmer gelding, sometimes pawing at the ground in an effort to get Buck to chase him. The buckskin had very nearly outrun the ex-racer that day he dumped Danny out here, so if Buck decided to chase him Wabby could very well be in for a surprise when the overo caught him and his pride.

Laughing softly to himself as he examined his hook Henry cast a sideways squinting look to Helm, “No, just one an’ there’s nothin in it yet. I left it up t’Bella but she’s . . . I dunno, that’s the last thing on her mind.” if someone offered him a good sum of money for the empty building he would sell it if she didn’t do something with it. In about a week, maybe it was a week and a half, he and Bella would be in Denver for an invitational ball thrown in honor of the important people in the state’s capital and they had been invited. She was probably stressing over that, looking in the mirror everyday wanting her hair to get longer. He wasn’t so much worried about her hair as he was her weight, she was so damn thin and talking all the time about wanting a baby but she wouldn’t f***ing eat and that was about to drive him crazy. She wanted all these things and yet made no effort to achieve them, too busy feeling sorry for herself which was something Henry had previously thought he was the master of, but apparently not.

“Umhmm,” Henry answered coyly when Danny questioned the previously issued moniker, “thought you’d like it.” he laughed, “Well when I get a check from a Mister Hellfire I’ll know who it’s from.” he commented as he climbed on up the craggy surface of the boulder and looked down into the water, Wabash still high stepping it through the prairie across the crest of a hill where he was skylined in all his glory with the sun to his back, still showing off. Speaking of horses Heck opened his mouth to ask Danny about Asher but the rancher seemed to read his mind and gave him the skinny without prompting, “I was just about t’ask you about ‘im. He still doesn’t like me, gives me that look when I ride by the pen.” the banker laughed and baited his hook, laughing harder to hear that Asher also still held an animosity toward the banker’s younger cousin, “Well hell Rusty’s fun t’chase, I chase ‘im all the time.” Heck smiled into the late morning sun as Wabby came down the hill to the water’s edge for the five-thousandth time, just sniffing the surface before lunging away and running off bucking again. The banker’s smile faded to an expression of genuine understanding when Danny thanked him for the horse, “It’s no problem Danny, I knew he’d be a special animal when I saw ‘im, just didn’ know how special.” that signature half smirk played at his lips, but the subject was changed somewhat, “Can’t wait t’see that, maybe you’ll be riddin ‘im by the time I win the election.” just a few weeks ago it had been; when he lost the election, or dropped out of contention, but not after yesterday’s polls. Leaning forward a bit, Henry dropped his line into the water, not sure what to say next so he threw out the obvious, “Meanwhile as my horse acts a fool.”

[Daniel Helm]

---

August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
10:20 am

Daniel peered down the space between his knees, observing the calm ripples that radiated out from his ankles as they slid gently back and forth in the dusky pond surface. Rivulets of dirt slipped down past his knees, mixing with the water to create dark trails of mud that trickled down and dripped off into the water. When Henry mentioned their last encounter at the lake Daniel couldn’t even help but laughing. That grin cracking his face clean open as he recalled his rather impish prank after that tiny crawdad had nearly given him a heart attack. Leaning across the boulder Daniel flicked at the back of Henry’s ear like he’d done before, this time breaking out into a full out hysterical laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man move as damn fast as you did that day,” He rubbed his arm where he had remembered his friend giving him a pretty nasty wallop, “You ain’t hit me that hard until that day either.” A long sigh passed his pursed lips as he just took the time to enjoy the cool lapping waves around his feet, recalling that day just as if it’d happened yesterday. How long had it been? Two years? It barely felt like it but looking back now, with all that had transpired over the past years Danny couldn’t help but wish to back to that time. Maybe just for a day, he thought, just a day. Relive the time in his life when he was young and didn’t have much anything to care about besides his next paycheck and his horse. Before he had a wife, before he had the ranch and before he’d nearly got himself killed. When times were simpler and he could just go riding because he wanted to, not because he had cattle to herd or errands to run. Just because he wanted to take Buck out to the plains and ride till nothing mattered but reaching that horizon.

But Daniel couldn’t discount himself through the trails he’d been through. When the dust had finally settled down, he finally got the chance to look and see where he’d been. He’d come far from the days of riding for the Express, where he was a nothing in this town with nothing but a horse and his name. But now he had a legacy, he was Daniel Helm. He was Mister Hellfire, a dear part of this town’s economy, and an even dearer friend to those who lived here. In the past two years Daniel had proved his worth and helped to build this town into what it is today with nothing but sheer determination compiled with all the blood, sweat, and tears he could afford to shed. Henry and him both had made something of themselves, and though it seemed they couldn’t go but a few months before their lives would turn completely upside down but they were both a pair of sturdy men that seemed to come out alive of whatever ill conceived event that life decided to throw at them.

Danny noted his friend’s change in mood when he had to bring up the shop he’d purchased, and more so seemed upset by the fact that he brought Bella up. Honestly Danny couldn’t rightly follow those two, he had no clue when they were okay when they weren’t. He just thought it best to stay out of the way to save himself from being caught between a fight between the both of them. More so to prevent himself from getting in Bella’s way when she went off on one of her crazy tangents. She was a tiny woman but Danny knew she could be f*cking terrifying and if his own tiny wife could bring him to his knees and knock him out, he’d hate to see what Bella Scarborough could do to him. Deciding that it was probably best not to ruin their day with delving further into the subject he just gave Henry a hardy pat on the back with that knowing look. “Eh, it’ll be somethin’ when it’ll be something. It’s nothing to get worked up over, at least not right now. Fish can sense stress and we won’t catch a damn thing all day if we keep up that kinda talk.”

Danny glanced up across the pasture when Henry mentioned his horse acting a fool and he could only grin and nod, “Yeah, he’s acting hella crazy. Kinda reminds me of when you came bursting into the saloon to get me to go fishing two years ago. You’re both rambunctious little shits.” It was uncanny just how alike the rider’s were to their animals, Wabash was a childish little thing just like Henry, just incredibly overjoyed so randomly while Buck was much more calm, quiet and stoic much like Danny was most of the time nowadays. Buck was snuffling through the grass when his spirited counter part continued to bound back and forth, occasionally stopping to nudge the grazing buckskin to get his attention before tearing back off. Looking mildly unimpressed Buck raised his head, a mouthful of grass half hanging out of his mouth as he looked back at the two fishing men as if asking what the hell the paint stud was on. Finishing his fill of grass he just stood there with his tail flicking back and forth as Wabby came up one last time, pawing at the ground before the gelding. The horse was sneaky, just like Danny when it came to pranks. Just before Wabby could tear off again Buck stretched his neck out and gathered a mouthful of his friend’s mane, giving it a good pull before he bolted off, a shrill whinny coming from him and if you listened careful it could almost sound like laughter. Maybe it was from Danny because he was just beside himself chuckling at the pair, “Buck is a sneaky little shit sometimes too.” Buck slowed to a halt and just as Wabby got close enough he would prance out of his reach and careen back into the pasture where he’d stand amongst the cattle, as if daring his mischievous comrade to follow.

Henry’s line was accompanied by a second as Daniel finally threw his own, easing his feet back out of the water and tucked them up in front of him cross crossed. “We shoulda done this a lot earlier,” He concluded, scratching his head, “Though I guess as much as we’ve both been at each other the past two years that’d be kinda hard.” It was mostly Daniel’s fault for their lack of friendship, he had a hell of a temper and he’s tendency to hold grudges was even worse. But at least it was all alright now. Life was finally returning back to normal for once in a long time. “Ya know this fall will be the second anniversary since we’ve been friends? Shoo, feels like’s been a hell of a lot longer, don’t it?”

[Henry Scarborough]

---

August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 10:25am

They both had a good laugh, it hadn’t been all that funny the day it happened, downright embarrassing as the new banker had just about left his own skin when that crawdad started to slither around in his pocket. A harmless crayfish was the last thing Heck could have guessed, logic told him it was a snake but his vivid imagination conjured his worst and most debilitating fear, one of those huge, hairy water spiders. Boys were supposed to go down to the crick, catch black snakes, garter snakes, crawdads, snails, spiders and the like. Then of course take their slimy creepy crawlies to the neighborhood girl they secretly liked and make her squeal. It was fun as hell sidling up to a cute little blonde with his hands clasped over a warty toad, saying he had a surprise for her and to come take a look. His favorites were the little brown skinks that sunned themselves on the craggy front stoop of his apartment building. They were quick as lightning but if he got lucky he could catch one, keep it in his pocket for a while to show his friends and then respectfully put the little reptile back where he found him.

“I like crawdads but I thought it was a spider.” the banker tried to defend himself, speaking through a broad infectious grin as Danny laughed after flicking him on the ear. He had missed that spontaneous guffaw, it was good to hear it again and know all was well in the world because there was nothing Danny could do to fake this level of happiness. Those half-hearted grins and vacant eyes Henry had witnessed the past few months were testament to the suffering that plagued his friend’s broken soul. But today was a day of genuine contentment as the two friends sat atop the sun bleached boulder overlooking the warm pond, the reflection of the sun shivering and shimmering in the rippling surface, “I really winded that one back, course I recall you barely flinching so . . . I didn’ worry about it much.” a hard swing from his fist sounded like a slap on the wrist against his friend’s brawny arm. Last winter he had wished like hell he was stronger because pulling calves during calving season was hard work. It was far worse when he worked for Dick Rainer on his ranch in Nebraska where it was a common occurrence to handle fifty or more deliveries a day on a spread that boasted fifteen thousand head of black and red angus cattle. So he couldn’t complain.

A poof of dust curled from his shoulder as the rancher gave him a pat on the back and Henry wasn’t sure if his duster was dirty or maybe Helm’s hands were just dusty, maybe both. A collected smile let his friend know he would be okay, he tucked his hair over one ear and remembered he would soon be cutting it again, maybe keeping it short for good. Helm couldn’t tease him about that girly hair anymore, not that Henry ever minded. But other than that he said nothing, chased any previous bad thoughts from his mind and eyed the silver tendril of fishing line down from his pole to the water.

As the paint stud continued to race around his new surroundings, clearly not content on exploring alone he nagged at his friend to come with him, “It’s because I never gelded ‘im, he’s too valuable. Won seventeen races, has ten foals, two of which are still runnin in California. Booked to two mares in the spring, I’m sure you saw his ad in the paper, couldn’ miss it if ya tried, I paid extra t’have his photo in there too.” Wabash let out a half whinny half snort at the sudden tug on his mane, the two sprinted away in opposite directions, stopping to eye one another. It seemed the stallion had finally convinced his friend to go exploring. Kicking out his back legs again he seemed overjoyed and joined his buddy on the hilltop, overlooking the fields.

The two riders got a good laugh from the antics of the almost human horses, Helm dropping his line at long last. He seemed to be waxing on about the regrets of their undoubtedly tumultuous friendship since meeting that summer in sixty-seven, setting off for an unforgettable mail run to Denver, “I don’t plan on f*ckin up anymore, you can count on that, Danny.” he admitted very matter-of-factly, that gravitas in his tone of voice speaking more so than his actual words. He was mounting a very serious job opportunity at the moment, had to behave, “Yeah in what, a week or so?” he asked in response to Danny’s observation. Had they really been friends that long? Wow, “Feels like it’s been at least twice that long.” he let out a long sighing breath as if coming to the realization of the time past for the first time, “Boy those were simple times, huh? When I got here, in March of that year, I didn’ even have enough money for a room at Sam’s. I slept outside, on the prairie until I found work at the post. Course that was before Bella, the bank, the kids.” he went quiet for a moment and then perked up, “Oh, I have forty-six percent of the poll votes as of yesterday morning, surprised the shit outta me, MacDermott too, the fella I’m runnin against, he talks just like your cousin, Liam.” Henry knew the guy was from Ireland, but had no clue where exactly. Apparently they had regionalism about themselves as well. Greenhorn, tenderfoot easterners were frowned upon in the west just like Southern Irishmen were nagged in Northern Ireland for being country boys, poor and dirty.

A hard tug on his line brought him out of his musings and he scoffed realizing he had just nabbed the first fish. Pulling up on his pole the dark shape neared the surface, a triumphant grin replaced by a confused expression, “The hell . . . is that?” about the time the words left his mouth the gapping fleshy beak of a twenty-pound snapping turtle breeched the surfaced. Curved claws raked at the pitted face of the boulder as it seemed the turtle was dead set on getting up there with his captors, “What in holy f*ck is in your pond, Danny!?” he half screamed half laughed as he scrambled away from the snapping jaw of the ancient looking animal, slimy green algae growing across his spiked shell. Halfway up onto the banker and rancher’s chosen perch the turtle froze there, mouth threateningly ajar as Henry kept laughing. Leave it to him to catch something like that, “F*ckin Christ man, your feet were just in the water.” something Danny probably would not find nearly as funny as Henry produced that knife that cauterized Danny’s wounds two years ago, and severed his line, knowing he was not about to reach in there and fetch his hook.

[Daniel Helm]

---

August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
10:25 am

In the momentary waning silence there was a pure sense of serenity that surrounded the dusty men. The only sound for those short moments was the quiet lapping of the water along the shoreline, the deep bawling of cattle down in droves along the foothills and the almost incessant chitter of birds in the shade trees above. It was a short lived quiet, but even for just a few minutes those sounds essentially captured the very essence of life in the west. It wasn’t all blazing guns and murderous drifters; it wasn’t just death and danger. There was a bizarre yet truly enchanting beauty out in the deserts and plains. Most folks never truly understood the underlying beauty of this vast land and Daniel Helm could honestly count himself amongst the lucky few that saw and understood the charm of the Wild West. Helm eased back on one hand to gaze out at their frolicking steeds. That grin seemingly infectious, as Henry seemed he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot too. “Some days I wish I didn’t geld, Buck,” He watched as the buckskin skirted past Wabby with a kick before racing back to the crest of the hill. “He’s a good ‘ol boy, has some good qualities that’d be good for some foals. But ya know, before I did geld him he was a f*cking hand full so I guess I wouldn’t have known he was such a good horse otherwise.” Daniel laughed as his horse began to buck at the top of the hill to get his friend’s attention, “He didn’t get his name for nothin’ ya know?”

Returning his attention to his line he just watched it bob back and forth with the wind driven waves, quite content to just sit and listen to their surroundings and to his friend talk. It’d been too long since they’d been able to truly have a moment like this, one with no grudges, no anger- just pure unrefined friendship. There were no more grudges to be held, no more yelling to be had, and for once in a very long time Daniel Helm could call Henry his best friend without any reservations. “I don’t think anyone ever really plans on f*cking up, Henry.” Daniel suggested, though it did seem like for some it just gravitated toward them naturally. Scarborough was a complicated man with an even more complicated past, and with all of those dark and damning memories of growing up Danny would be more surprised if he didn’t have of all of those set backs. Men were entitled to mistakes, he assured, it just seemed a lot of Henry’s had happened right in the row and proved to be quite a lot for his friends to handle all at once- Daniel in particular. He was known to have a decent tolerance for stupid shit, but lately Helm was way too f*cking stressed to deal with any more nonsense. He’d lost his cool , something that Henry knew well and had a good reminder from that stain in the crotch of his britches. “But I appreciate the promise all the same.”


“It’s only been two years and it feels like fifteen if you ask me,” Daniel gave a half hearted tug at his line in the water before giving a little chuckle, “Can’t wait to see what the hell we have to say about our friendship ten years from now.” He couldn’t help but nod at Henry’s own recount of his first two years in Buffalo Creek Bay. “Can’t say I was much better, honestly.” Daniel had come to BCB with his job with the express that barely paid for his room at Sam’s. Though his father constantly tried to wire him money to get him on his feet he refused adamantly. He was gonna be a man and make a life for himself with his own two hands. When Henry told him of his poll runnings he only gave a smile, nodding, “I know, I saw ‘em in the paper. You’re really looking like a whoe in to me, Henry.” Danny followed Henry’s campaigning quite closely actually, though he could say he didn’t know a thing about his opposition. “Oh god, Liam. That boy is f*cking crazy. He’s always hounding Rusty to go to the saloon and get girls. He calls him Lassie. I have no idea why though.” Liam was an eccentric lad, crazy really but he was family and Danny couldn’t rightly help but love him and his shenanigans.

Daniel was just about to explain his friendship with his cousin we he dragged that dinosaur clear out the water and even the esteemed stoic Daniel F*cking Helm couldn’t help but screech like a little girl. Tumbling off the bleached boulder he landed on his back with his ass curled up over his head in the air. Scrambling to regain his feet he clawed at the rock, peering over it’s rocky surface to watch Henry cut the line. “The acutally f*ck is that doing here?!” Danny stood up on the rock when the giant thing looked at him an d those beady little eyes looked him right in the face. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.” Daniel swung out that colt of his and leveled it at the creature’s head and shot a hole clean through it. Still uttering his mantra of unending “nopes” he put his foot to the thing and kicked it off into the grass, shaking his head. “I can’t…no. That thing is not living in my damn pond.” He peered over the edge still clearly shaken before turning back to Henry and slapping him across the back of the head playfully, “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BRING THAT THING OUTTA THE WATER!?” Eyeing his own line in the water he grunted, “If we catch another one I am throwing it at you.”

[Henry Scarborough]

---

August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 10:30am

The two cowboys waxed on about their favorite ponies, a cowboy’s best friend was his pony, sometimes the only company he had and that could be said for Henry when he roamed those harsh landscapes hunting down outlaws. His whole life was that horse, his livelihood rested on those four hooves and he kept such a close watch on Wabash that he would sometimes forego a comfy stay at an inn to sleep in the stall at the livery with his horse. That day he nearly ran the horse to death in Arizona he swore if he had to shoot his only friend, Henry himself wouldn’t be far behind. Rusty had scorned him for using not only him but his horse to earn money, only to throw it away on his bad habits, Wabash was running sometimes twice a week and was so winded after his runs he would lay down in his stall, unable to stand. After nearly running the racehorse into the ground, Scarborough departed Ohio after his withdrawal and set out at a slow and easy pace to the west, and found himself in Nevada working cattle for Dick Rainer.

“I bet he would have added some fine qualities to a foal, but honestly, geldings make far better workin cow horses and mature a lot faster, more obedient, can be housed with other horses, the list goes on and on.” he scoffed. He was limited with Wabash, he couldn’t even put him in a stall that was next to another horse unless it was Attila or Gander. Couldn’t turn him out with any other horse but one of the geldings, couldn’t turn him and Callaway or a mare out at the same time, not even if their pastures were separated, they would get into shouting matches. Watching said stallion trot to the peak of the hill that overlooked the pasture he stood next to his friend, looking over his back across the road at another field, the one he had whinnied to earlier and flicked his tail.

He grew quiet when Danny gave him his take and the banker’s various mishaps over the past two years. He drank too much, in a mind running rampant with panic and despair took off and left his fiancée and a child he had believed to be dead, bummed off Danny’s father’s undying Helm hospitality, nearly gotten hanged and then there was the opium addiction. Danny thanked him for the halfhearted promise and Henry wondered if that previous statement was a mistake, could he keep such a promise? Hopefully if he made another mistake, Daniel Helm and company could find it in their hearts to forgive him, yet again. What would be the next mishap? Bella was just on pins and needles waiting for him to take up a bottle again he was sure, or she would find out he was sleeping with half the women in Buffalo Creek. No matter how many times he assured her he would never be unfaithful and had never been unfaithful, she couldn’t trust him. If he vanished without a trace for whatever reason she wouldn’t look for him, wouldn’t report him missing, nothing. Just assume he had run off with another woman. It twisted his innards to think about that, no matter what he did, or didn’t do, she would never trust him.

A half smirk at Danny’s remark and Henry turned to him, “Ten years from now, twenty, thirty . . . I’ll still say Daniel Helm is the greatest man I’ve ever known.”he turned back to the water, gazing over the glassy surface, it almost gave the illusion of solidity as if he could just step out and walk across it. Maybe Danny could walk across it . . .
“Yep, MacDermott’s from R-land . . . that’s how he pronounces it, like a pirate Arr-Land . . .” he laughed and Danny shared a tidbit of the shenanigans of his cousin Liam and his fascination in Henry’s own cousin, Rusty, “He needs more friends, he makes em so easily, I never could make em that quick, he’s a likable guy but he’s not the funnest t’hang out with.” in fact he would go to the sheriff and tell on you if it was bad enough. He would love to see Rusty tell on someone to Davion as the marshal was more likely to go join the fun than he was in stopping it, he would run from the sheriff when he showed up too with all the other troublemakers.

When the prehistoric snapper raised his ugly head from the murky depths of the shallow pond both Henry and Danny were screaming and scrambling off their perch like a couple of girls. The banker got back to his feet laughing until the gnarly looking turtle scraped forward on his belly and snapped at him, “Whoa, shit!” and then busted out laughing again. Danny did not find it nearly as funny as Henry and was quick to dispatch the ancient looking creature that had probably been living in this pond longer than Henry or Danny had been living in Buffalo Creek. But the creature had made the mistake of biting a fishing hook and now he was on his back in the grass, one foot still twitching as Henry’s chuckles died off. Rubbing his head after the cuff to his cranium Heck still grinned like a Cheshire cat, his friend’s high pitched scream still ringing in his ears, “Sorry, I sarw ‘im in the water but I didn’ know what it was.” he laughed again, the only remnant of his New York accent lingering in that one word with the misplaced “r.” Unable to hide his smile still he decided to strike up the conversation again, “I think Bella’s gonna make Elizabeth’s father her legal guardian, if somethin happens t’me an’ her she’ll go live with him. But, before she could make Giovanni Danny’s guardian I let her know that before the kid was even born, Daniel F*ckin Helm was my son’s god father, and not to bother.” he spoke very matter-of-factly with a few hand gestures, “So if his parents are . . . rendered incapable of his care, he goes to . . . you.” he hoped Danny was alright with that but hell he probably already knew. Pulling his line back to him he sighed at the bare end and reached into his pocket for another hook. After a good two minutes of trying to poke the line through the eyelet in the hook Henry gave an exasperated sigh followed by a humored chuckle, “Danny . . . I can’t see this damn thing, I forgot my glasses.” setting himself up for some taunting he was sure.

[Daniel Helm]

---

August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
10:25 am

Helm rolled his eyes at Henry’s seemingly enduring insistence that he was the greatest man he’d come to know in his short twenty-eight years of life. Honestly from all the shit that Danny had given Henry over the two short years of their friendship he was mildly surprised that he wasn’t on the top of Scarborough’s shit list. It still astounded the rancher just how much folks tended to like him, he was a bastard, plan and simple. He was a hardheaded, asshole who tended to punch first and care about feelings later. But honestly, he could at least give himself a little credit for the fact he’d gotten better since he first arrived two years ago. His temper was far more volatile then than now, if you’d believe it. He’d gotten into a lot more tussles back then before he’d managed to mature a few years and realize that he was getting too f*cking old for rolling around in the dirt. Though that revelation hadn’t truly come to him until he’d found himself on his back on the saloon floor, bleeding to death with only the distant echo of his friend’s voices for company. Waking up on that bed three days later had truly put into prospective how short one’s time on this earth may indeed be, so he’d set on to try, try to better himself as a man and to stop taking his life for granted. “You’re full a shit, Henry,” Daniel huffed and gave him a shove, though that half smile was all telling and it seemed that genuine gratitude shown through.

“I fear for Rusty running amuck with Liam, let me tell you. That man drinks more than a fish and won’t stop until he gets Rusty t’drink on his level. He’s an insistent one, let me tell ya.” Daniel Helm recalled that particular time when he and Liam had taken to the barn to try that smoke once, his pa tanned his hide something fierce. Then there was the time when Liam had taken that fifth of liquor from the mercantile and dragged Danny out to the lake for drunk fishing. That was the first time Danny had ever been drunk and lord forbid his hangover dragged off until Sunday and he had to stand and kneel constantly in church next to his Ma trying not to throw up all over the pew in front of him. “That bastard got me into so much shit, let me tell ya. But he’s a good guy, he’ll have your back in just about anything. Got my ass outta few brawls back in the day too.”

When he had finally dispatched the prehistoric snapper Daniel crawled on his hands and knees to the edge of the boulder to gaze down at it. He curled his nose at the twitching creature, using the butt of his fishing rod to nudge it a few times. “We’ll have to take this back to Ming, she’ll do something with it. Damn woman is a cooking saint, let me tell ya.” After chiding Henry for his catch he collapsed down back in his seat, thinking twice about casting his line again, eyeing the murky waters suspiciously. Finally after telling himself to buck up and stop being such a pansy he dropped the line and stretched his legs out, though he was careful to keep them well away from the water’s edge. Seemingly calmed since their run in with their scaly nemesis, Daniel turned to Henry when he spoke up again.

He wasn’t entirely sure where Henry was going with this particular tidbit of information until he declared that Daniel Helm was the legal godfather of his son. He was baffled to say the least, the man had already named his son after him, and now he was making the same man his legal guardian. “You’re not foolin’?” He asked in disbelief and that smile from before turn his lips up till the smile touched his eyes, “I can’t tell ya how honored I am. I love that little shit, let me tell ya. Darla does too, though she is kinda….off putting about it sometimes.” It was a true honor to be the boy’s guardian, but he just prayed to god that he’d never have to accept that responsibility. All smiles now Daniel almost missed Henry asking him to hook his line.

“Oh, can’t see that well anymore, ya old codger?” He nudged Henry and laughed at the old moniker he hadn’t the chance to use in a long while, not that he could really brag much. He was just as old and honestly getting up in the morning his bones creaked worse than the floorboards on Sam’s floor. Ranching was tearing him up a might quick, though he wouldn’t stop until he dying day, he loved his work as much as it worn him out. He was born and raised on the back of a horse and if he could help it he’d be dying on one too.

After pricking his fingers a few times trying to hook Henry’s line he finally handed it over before look back out to his own line. “So help me god Henry if you catch another snapper I’m gonnna toss your ass in the water myself.”

[Henry Scarborough]

---

August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 10:30am

In spite of Helm humbly brushing off the compliment as usual Henry kept smiling knowing he would have done the same. Notwithstanding his own obvious success the banker remained humbled and never pushed anyone else around or waved his money under noses, he dressed nicely but he liked nice clothes, however that was about it. They had drinks in the same saloon they had since they arrived here nearly penniless. There were far nicer places to live and drink in Denver, but they chose to stay here in little muddy Buffalo Creek Bay. If they were really successful businessmen they would live in upper class Boulder, Colorado with its white stone streets and cleanliness. But what was the fun in that when the town had banned the sins of drinking, gambling and prostitution? Screw that. Of all the people Henry had ever known, they had all given up on him at some point or another, even the saint in Madame Keri of the Brookdale Concord in New York. Standing out in the hall with a doctor saying she didn’t know what else to do and if Henry relapsed a third time she may just let him go since something was clearly vexing the boy to the point of torture, to a point where he probably wanted to die anyways. Where Bobby, Keri, his own parents, even his uncle, and his cousin had looked at him and shook their heads, leaving him to himself. Daniel Helm was different, and from his brief stay with the man’s father, it was clear where the rancher got such fine qualities. He would have loved to have met the man’s mother too, she must have been a saint.

Laughing upon hearing the antics of Danny’s cousin Henry looked out over the pond and spoke with that low but clear voice, “Rusty’s a light weight, two glasses and he’s gone. The only time he ever drank when we were t’gether was t’get me drunk so he could do somethin I told ‘im not to do.” Henry scoffed. The last time that had happened the banker had ended up in a hospital withdrawing from opium, not fun, “Seems both our cousins are good guys, but see? Not all Scarborough’s are assholes, or untrustworthy . . . or advantageous at the expense of others, we call ‘im Trusty Rusty for a reason.” of course Russell had a lovely upbringing, his parents were holistic, tolerant, reasonable disciplinarians and respectful as well as respected. How couldn’t someone raise the perfect kids on that formula? “Rusty did more than get me out of a fight, I dunno if he told you but he practically took care of me for four months. I should’ve never been such a burden but he was there for me, I can’t say the same for myself, but he’s forgiven me . . .” Henry was never there for Russell, poor kid. In fact Henry had just about killed the boy when he had to walk home in the dead of winter, arriving in Philly to lay in bed for a few weeks sick as a dog with pneumonia. If Graham ever saw Henry again he would probably punch his lights out.

“Oh I bet she’d cook the hell outta that thing.” he agreed, but had never tried turtle, “I’ve had rattlesnake, only weird thing I’ve ever eaten.” if he went a little further south than North Carolina he could have tried alligator but the New Yorker hated the heat and stuck to the northern states for the most part, “But here . . . in Colorado apparently it’s quite popular t’eat Rocky Mountain Oysters, never could get up the sand t’try that.” Bella would probably never kiss him again if he did. They didn’t look all that bad, the cook battered and fried them and honestly Henry could admit he was curious, but it was the concept of eating them that turned his stomach sour. His father ate chicken brains for breakfast all the time and just the smell was enough to make the boy nearly gag at the table.

“Nope.” Heck quipped, he was most certainly not foolin. It was a sense of security and Henry could sleep at night knowing if something were to happen to he and Bella, which out in the untamed lawless west was quite the possibility, Lil’ Danny would be safe. Not only that but when he grew up he would be with someone Henry trusted with his life, someone that could teach the kid to ride a horse and shoot a gun but best of all, someone that could share stories of the kid’s father. So Henry couldn’t be forgotten, “Right after I got home from Nevada and found out he was still alive, I filled out the legal forms, so you’ve been honored for a long time . . . but we weren’t on good terms at the time and I didn’ wanna tell you.” he had been afraid of how Danny would react, but that didn’t stop him from telling him that he had named the kid after him too, but that was when he thought he was hanging. Helm would soon find out he was the kid’s godfather anyways when Cyrus showed up with the papers. As for Darla, well Henry still blamed her for his friend’s depression, she had been to blame for it last time too but since the banker couldn’t consider himself any better than her he would be giving that woman a wide berth.

“Danny Boy, I’ve always needed glasses t’read, ever since . . . I can remember.” he was never too sure if his bad vision had anything to do with his abuse, but he couldn’t blame everything on his father, it was probably just genetic, “Thank’ya.” Helm warned him against catching another snapping turtle and the banker laughed while baiting his hook again, “Nah, I’ll just catch a gar.” the serpentine fish with teeth like a dog and scales like armor. That was a scary mother and he bet Danny wouldn’t be putting his feet in the water anymore. Hmm, what to talk about now . . . steer away from the subject of children, he didn’t want to talk about Bella, they had talked about Rusty and Liam, “You keep in touch with Nathan an’ your brothers? How are they? They should come visit . . . and preferably not kick my ass.”

[Daniel Helm]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
10:30 am

Still eyeing the weeping turtle Daniel reached down along the boulder’s edge, picking out a long strand of prairie grass before he pinched it between his pursed lips, working the stalk between his teeth. Nibbling at the sweet reed he just huffed at Henry’s defense that he had always needed glasses to see. “Well in that case you’ve always been an old codger.” Content in just chewing on the grass his eyes narrowed at Henry’s joke. If Henry Scarborough managed to pull a gator out of this pond he wasn’t sure if he’d be more surprised or pissed, probably toss his ass in the water and make a break for it himself though, and he smiled widely at the thought of the huge water dragon chasing his petite brother across the pasture. “I’d pay t’see that.” He mumbled under his breath to himself, snigger as his mind conjured Henry’s face as that big old brute nipped at his ass. “You reckon you can outrun a gator?” Looking quite thoughtful for a moment Daniel shrugged, “I don’t think it really matters if I can outrun the gator, it matters if I can outrun you. I outrun you, then you’re gator food and I’m half way home trying to come up with a way to explain where on earth that damn gator came from.”

Danny had worked the stalk of grass half the length he’d plucked it from the ground, raising his brows at Henry after he asked about his family. Honestly he was surprised Scarborough would tread in these waters. It was a sore subject for the both of them, but mostly for the Helm man he’d betrayed and those who house him for three months, unable to tell their kin of his friend’s condition. “They’re doin’ just fine. And from what I heard, they got enough of beatin’ ya around when you last…visited.” He admitted shortly, trying to think back to the last letter he’d received, it’d been from Aaron, instead of his father. “The ranch is running fine, as usual. Hal and Aaron had to talk Pa outta get another couple thousand cattle and instead sent ‘em my way. Hal looks like he’s got himself a pretty promisin’ girl, her name…oh crap, what was her name…” The rancher ran his calloused fingers over his rough stubble, thinking hard. “Chelsea, can’t rightly remember her last name.” He shrugged. “Aaron is….Whick, that’s her last name.” He paused again, “Oh right, ugh, Aaron and his wife are expectin’ soon.”

That’s all it took, and that laid back nature suddenly fell away and that pain resurfaced. It was like opening an old wound and Daniel looked down at his knees for a moment, running those large hands across his face as he took a deep breath. He’d worked long and hard to get past it, but nothing would ever make that pain go away. Maybe time would teach him to be numb, but the thought of his own child in the ground made his stomach turn and just made me want to get sick. “They’re hopin’ for a girl…” He answered quietly, “They got their hands full already with their boy, Jacob.” His eyes lifted to the calm pool in front of them before slowly turning back to Henry where he looked his friend dead in the eye. There was no doubt that pain was still fresh, but the flicker of hope in the steady emerald gaze showed he was ready to fight it. “They were plannin’ on comin’ t’visit when we had the baby…” he answerd truthfully, shaking his head a little sadly, “I guess maybe next time.”

Danny seemed pretty done with talking about family and leaned back on the boulder after wedging his pole between a few cleaved rocks. The sun was scaling higher into the sky and it may had been the tail of summer it was still mighty hot and he was already sweating through his long sleeved shirt. Unbuttoning the faded red flannel he tossed behind him before leaning back on it, tossing one arm over his eyes. Daniel Helm often worked outdoors shirtless, giving his torso that healthy broze glow. The sun darkened the skin around his muscles and pronounced them well, despite him getting past his prime he was still in t he best shape possible. Darla always liked to run her hands over his chest and abs, outlying each muscle with the feather light touch of her finger. But not as much as she did, that white scar in the middle of his belly scared her something awful and she often refused to touch the mangled scar that Mason Radley had left him just a few months ago. “When is that boy of yours gonna come visit Hellfire, Henry?”

[Henry Scarborough]

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August 26th, 1869
Hellfire Ranch
Around 10:35am

He laughed at the comment from his friend, not bothering to elaborate on why he thought he was so far sighted. Actually it wasn’t that bad if he held a book far enough from his face he could read it if the print was fairly large. But glasses made it much more bearable, “Well when I put em on Bella can’t keep her hands off me.” he laughed. It was true, but also loads of fun when he was looking for them, only to find them on her person, usually down the front of her corset.

A random question caught him a little off guard, “An . . . alligator?” he laughed, “Uh, I dunno I hear they can run pretty fast, never sarw one though, I bet Bella has, she was in Cajun Town for a while, they eat em down there, like chicken.” but hell, what did the Cajuns NOT eat? Snakes, crayfish, shrimp, fish, gators, but they made the best food like gumbo and chowders that were out of this world. Goddamn those people could cook, couldn’t understand a word that come out of their mouth though, probably numbed from all those spices, “I used t’be able t’run real damn fast, outran a horse one night runnin from the law in New York.” yep, a horse. Granted the streets were snowy and he didn’t literally outrun the animal, just out maneuvered it, “Can’t run like that anymore, not since sixty-eight.” after taking that bullet to the hip it was not uncommon to see Henry limping on that left side, especially when it was cold outside, running? Forget about it. Once it got so bad, leaving the saloon to head back to the bank he stopped just outside on the boardwalk to lean against the building where no one could see him, but his pain had not escaped Cyrus Savage who soon appeared at his side and offered his cane. Henry laughed and said he wouldn’t be caught dead walking with a cane, but appreciated it. So he gritted his teeth and walked painfully, stubbornly to the bank and collapsed in his chair.

Henry was a strange bird and many would admit to it. He had a different way of thinking than anyone else, it was a simple mistake he had made, getting drunk and boarding the wrong train. It was fifteen dollars for a return ticket and he hadn’t the money, not to mention he did not feel he had taken advantage of the Helm’s hospitality. Maybe drove them a little crazy but they could have kicked his ass out anytime they wanted. It wasn’t like Nathan had bailed him out of the drunk tank either. If they showed up for a visit and received him with anything other than familiarity he would have been surprised. He took his time coming back and had found it a little off putting that so many people thought he was dead, expecting to come home to some funny looks but mostly at least a little understanding that he had to go and clear his head. The away time was therapeutic, self-enlightening and justified if one were to ask him. Working thousands of cattle by day and drinking away his pain by night, every little bit that kept his mind off his dead son helped. Whether anyone would ever agree with him, or see it from his perspective remained unknown, but Henry had his reasons. A broad grin crossed his face, “Good.” everyone was hunky-dory and the ranch was still booming, good lord that place was huge, four times the size of Rainer’s ranch, it was like comparing Hellfire to Henry’s little bit of cattle. Nathan might have had three hundred hands working for him at any given time. He listened intently as Danny went on to inform him that his brothers were doing well, Hal was looking to settle it seemed and Aaron was expecting his second born. He smiled again not realizing at that moment that their conversation was taking that more serious turn, “Jake was a cute kid, very quiet though.” everyone was very quiet when they had dinner together on Sundays, Jake looking over at his pa a few times and seeing him looking at the stranger amongst them with that suspicion and dislike in his eyes, he knew the awkwardness was due to the sickly looking blonde.

The somber tone the stoic rancher took on caught him off guard a bit and he turned slowly to look out over the pond. Helm’s eyes came back to him and the banker forced himself to meet his gaze and the subject of their happy conversation turned to what he was sure the man did not want to talk about. The family had been planning a visit, if their son’s wedding was not a good enough reason to come to Colorado, the birth of his first child was, but alas it wasn’t meant to be. Smiling sadly Henry looked down into the murky water, “Yeah . . .” then up into the sky with a deep breath, “next time.” very quietly, like the whisper of the summer breeze, “You two deserve a second chance . . . not everyone can say that . . . I guess.” for Henry and Bella it was beginning to look like there would be no second chances, trying for a baby since June and still nothing here it was going on September. There was no next time for them, either she was barren or his withdrawal had left him impotent but for the Scarborough’s it looked like their legacy rested in the tiny hands of Daniel Robert Scarborough to carry on the tarnished family name. Danny asked about Henry’s previously unknown oldest son, Christopher and he was so deep in his broodings he had missed it at first, “Hmm? Oh . . . I uh, his mother came about two weeks ago, he’s in New York, goin t’school.” he needed another cigarette and produced one from his pocket, wasting no time in lighting it he pocketed the spent match and looked down at his line, “Only thing’s bitin is scary shit . . . where’s your fish Danny Boy?”