Cattle bellowed as they started the herd northward. The chuckwagon followed along at a leisurely pace. Caleb shook his head. Sam had barely given them any trouble as long as he was teamed with either Jeremy or himself. The big man rode just in front of Caleb as they trailed the herd.

He glanced back at the wagon that seemed even further away. He narrowed his eyes and almost turned his horse to talk to the man again. He'd overheard Smyche saying he hated darkies, wanted to kill every last one of them. He'd hinted at turning back the night before but he'd awoken more cheerful than usual and had an excellent breakfast ready.

A small group broke free from the herd and Caleb urged his horse after them. They rushed down the ravine. Caleb circled them and pushed them back to the main body. He watched as another group broke free on the other side. He smiled as Sam helped Jeremy bring them back. Great job, Sam.

He moved back to his place, weaving back and forth behind the great, moving body. It wasn't until the sun almost set when Jeremy pulled up beside him. "Where are we camping?"

"By the chuckwagon."

"Where's the chuckwagon?"

"What?"

"It's gone. Nobody's seen it for hours."

Caleb cursed and slapped his hat on his leg. "Shoulda known something was up."

"What if he just broke down?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it. He lit out the minute he was sure I wasn't watching."

"So, we go with emergency rations tonight and we'll find him tomorrow."

"I guess that's the only thing we can do." Caleb shrugged.

He ignored the questioning looks as the men bedded down. In the morning, he selected one of Ana's men and headed out, leaving Jeremy with the rest to trail the herd.

Caleb rode with his eyes on the ground, searching for sign where the wagon broke off from the herd.

"There," Jed called, pointing to the parallel lines heading up the ridge.

Caleb spurred his horse, following the tracks to a tiny mining town. He found the wagon tied in front of the local bar. One glimpse inside it, told Caleb everything he needed to know. The cook had either sold the contents, or they'd been stolen while he had been drinking.

He tied the horse next to the thirsty team and moved to take care of him. A shot rang out as he reached for the bridle. "Them's mine, mister," a man slurred from the doorway.

Caleb turned. "I beg to differ, Smyche."

The man blanched as he stepped into the daylight.

"You figured you'd take my wagon and all my supplies and ride off, never to be seen again? I would've given you a horse if you'd have given me the courtesy of an 'I quit.'"

Smyche grimaced as the light burned his eyes. "Naw. You's too attached to them darkies. You'da never..."

"Instead, you left almost a dozen men out there to starve." Caleb stepped forward, ignoring the rifle that was still pointed at his chest.

"Step back, Kirkland. I'll shoot ya."

Caleb shook his head. "No ya won't. You'da done it already." Caleb grabbed the barrel, forcing it into the air as it went off. His right fist balled and connected with Smyche's chin. The pair scuffled for several minutes before a booted foot connected with his middle. Caleb grunted, but kept his fist balled around Smyche's vest.

"Let him go," a voice commanded.

"He's a horse thief," Caleb seethed.

"Them's pretty stiff charges. How 'bout you let him go and we'll discuss things."

The initial rage fled his body as the sunlight glinted off the star pinned to the man's chest.

"Fine by me, sheriff. I refuse to be swindled out of what's mine. Let me water these horses so they don't die. I don't wanna be arguing over dead animals."

Smyche whined and tried to wrestle himself free from the sheriff's grasp as he was dragged to the office.

"So, Mr. Kirkland. Smyche here was kind enough to inform me what's transpired. Why don't you give me your side?"

Caleb sank into a chair in the man's office, wishing he knew what had been said in his absence. He fished several papers from his billfold and placed them on the table. "Here's the receipts for the herd I picked up in Fort Worth."

"We're not debating the herd."

Caleb gave a half-smile. "On the receipt is clearly printed one chuckwagon, a team of horses, and various supplies. The brand on the bottom of the wagon match the brand on the horses' flanks. It'll also match the brands on my cattle if you'd care to take a ride. The herd's only about two days out."

Smyche paled and sank into his chair as the sheriff's gaze burned into him.

"Is your story gonna change?"

"He's got a bunch of darkies drivin' the herd. We'd never get to Montana Territory at the speed they're traveling."

"So you don't deny that you stole the wagon and horses and bartered away the supplies to keep you in ladies and liquor?"

"I, uh." Smyche swallowed hard. "I, uh, no sir."

The sheriff stood. "Get back in that cell. You'll hafta wait for the district judge to get here. Ordinarily, horse thieves are hung."

"When will the judge be here?" Caleb asked as the door clanked.

"He's scheduled to be here any day."

"So what do I do in the mean time? I've got men out there starving. Why do we have to delay the punishment if he's already admitted to the crime?"

The sheriff shrugged. "Justice will be served. You'll need to stay in town until the trial."

"But my men..."

"I'd figure out what's left in that wagon and load up a few supplies on that horse of yours and send your man back to the herd, unless he's a key witness."

Caleb shook his head. "He's a hired hand off my sister's spread. He wasn't privy to the details of the arrangement, but he was there when we picked up the herd."

"Well, there ya go then."

Caleb walked outside, his frustration building.

Jed climbed out the wagon shaking his head. "There's almost nothin' left, Caleb."

Caleb closed his eyes and nodded. "Let's get to the general store and see what we can figure out."

Hours later, Jed was on his way. Caleb's horse was laden down with basic supplies.

Caleb stepped into the telegraph office and knocked on the counter. "Can I send a message?"

"Yes sir." The tiny man passed a yellow piece of paper and pencil to Caleb. "Fill this out. We'll get it sent. Will there be a reply?"

"I hope so."

NEED DANI DRIVE CHUCKWAGON STOP MEET OKCITY STOP

He returned the supplies and watched with interest as the man expertly tapped out the message.

"Where will you be staying, sir?"

"I'm really not sure yet."

"If you're not lookin' to get woke up by parties, I'd recommend Mrs. Satchel's boarding house."

"I'm hoping to only be here for a few days. Do you know when the judge will be in?"

The man nodded. "Yes, sir. He's supposed to be comin' in two days. Sent a message just yesterday."

"Thank you. Which way to the boarding house?"