The Overture...

There is a tale told in the old country about a man who once rescued one of the wee folk. It had been a wet spring, with more than abundant rain. Little springs became torrents and creeks overran their banks. More terrible was the mighty Shannon which rolled like a wrathful St.Patrick, throwing out the heathen throughout the countryside. A young farmer was riding his pony through the wet, when he heard a desperate shout. There, hanging on for dear life, in the middle of the river, grasping a half-sunken tree, was a poor bedraggled creature. The man at first thought it was a child, but children didn't have full beards and certainly didn't use the language the small man was using. Despite the flood and a certain foreboding (drummed into him by his parish priest) about dealing with the wee folk, he urged his pony into the flood and managed, greatly through the animal's strength and courage, to drag the little man to the shore.

"I'll be thankin' ye..." the wee man said wringing water out of his beard.

"Nay, twas nuthin'."The young man replied and patted his pony nervously. The poor beast was still quivering from the fearsome swim.

"I'll be thankin' ye!" The little man said with insistent firmness and looked at the young man rather balefully. "I'll be given ye three wishes..."

The young man blanched. He knew the stories the granfers and granmers told, better to endure the wrath of ired kith and kin and the condemnations of the priests than to accept three wishes from the wee people. No good ever came of it. And it had a habit of sticking to the whole family down through the generations. A case in point was the Jack O' the Dingle family with all the lads having six fingers on each hand and all the girls ugly as sin. The young man shuddered, he was thinking of courting young Bess, if her family got wind of this...

The pony, nudged the young man with its nose. It was tired, cold, and hungry and all they were doing was standing around in the pouring rain. The young man patted the pony again. He was fond of the small beast. Then he smiled to himself.

"Well now honored sir," He bowed slightly to the leprechaun. "I appreciate your offer, but it weren't really me who saved ye. It were the pony here. I think you should give him the three wishes."

"Oh really?" The little man who was quite dry, through some sort of magic, looked at the wet pony and soggy young man. "Fair enough." He turned to the pony. "All right me lad. Three wishes it is then."

The pony seemed to understand as it snorted nervously and pranced a little. The young man noticed that the pony was really uncomfortable in the wet and took off his own coat to cover the beast.

"That's one." The little man nodded.

"What did he wish for?" The young man almost bit his tongue, Boyo How dy'do was he asking for trouble. "I'll fix ye a hot mash when we get home, eh boy?" He said nervously to the pony.

"Ye'll find out..." the little man sniffed, "After all it's his wishes." He turned to the pony again who was snorting excitedly. "Are ye sure? They always wish for that sort of thing...oh all right, its yer wishes."

In the place of the small pony was now a beautiful long-legged horse with a shiny coat the color of polished mahogany. The horse was very obviously a thoroughbred stallion, not a gelded hill pony.

"Dear God," the young man groaned "I'll be hung for a horse thief. And me Da will whip me black and blue fer losin' the pony."

The little man grinned rather evilly. The pony, or horse; however, was a canny creature and picked up the wee man by the back of his jacket with its teeth and gave a vigorous shake.

"Let go ye filty crayture! I kin fix it." The leprechaun howled. The horse dropped him, but stayed close enough to bite.

"Yer last wish?"He said sullenly brushing off his sleeves. The horse pawed the ground and then looked at the young man and shook his head.

"He wants ye to have the last wish."

The young man thought of young Bess, her saucy blue eyes and curly black hair. "Me love." He sighed.

"Done! And may ye all be happy with what ye got. Oh and by the by, yer youngens will have the gift too, well mebbe some of 'em." With that the little man disappeared.

No one seemed to be surprised that the young man now owned a stropping big stallion instead of a hill pony. Young Bess' parents looked well upon his suit, after all the boy had the start of a good herd of horses with such a fine stud. It was Bess herself who after hearing the story, figured out what the pony's first wish and what the gift was.

"Ye seem to know when the beast is ailin' and how to make it feel well. The other horses like you powerful well too, even the squires evil black mare won't bite ye. Ye have the gift of the horse."

The young man and Bess were married and had a passel of children, some of whom had the gift of the horse, some who didn't. Those who did, always did well and seemed to find love in the most unexpected places...

We meet the players with a thundering crash of cymbals, a honkytonk 'pianner', and five cowboys on guitars. The percussionist has in addition to his drums; a gut bucket, a six-shooter, and a spittoon.

ACT ONE

Scene One: Heath Barkley loses a race; but wins a horse and something to go with it.

The horses thundered down the dusty stretch of road. The sound of striking hooves was interspersed with the cries and curses from the riders.

The black's rider was furiously whipping the horse, trying to keep the precarious lead he had on the pack of horses bunched up behind him. His curses were cut off as the foam gathered on the tired horse's neck whipped back to hit him in the mouth.

Heath Barkley gave Charger an encouraging shout as the finish line loomed near. The horse seemed to gather its legs under itself and bounded forward. The lanky roan that had been pacing him the whole of the race also surged forward. The black-haired boy riding the roan glanced at Heath and gave an impudent grin.

The two horses raced neck and neck the last 50 yards, then the boy shouted "Away with ye!", and the roan took off at a pace that seemed to leave Charger just standing still. It easily crossed the finish line three lengths in front of the black and one length in front of Heath and Charger. The crowd were yelling and cheering, but not too enthusiastically as the black had been a local favorite and both Charger and the roan outsiders.

The roan's rider was met by a man who swung the boy off the saddle joyously. "Good for you, Jamie. I won us $100! Think of it boy!" He busily started to gather his winnings leaving the boy to walk the horse. The boy seemed to be about fourteen or even younger. Both the man and the boy had curly black hair, the man's streaked with gray though he couldn't have been more than thirty or so. They were short with shocking blue eyes and similar features that suggested they were related, probably brothers. The man's accent was Irish, and both wore high black boots with low heels, unusual footwear for the west.

"Good race." Heath said also walking Charger to cool him off. "I've never seen a horse take off like that before." He eyed the roan appreciatively. It was prancing with the boy and nibbling on short fellows' curly black hair. Charger seemed to think that the hair was fair game and leaned over for a nip.

"Ye've a fine horse yerself." The boy smiled at the horse and patted Charger's nose confidently. His voice was a softer version of his brother's with an almost musical Irish lilt.

"Careful, he..." Heath went to warn the boy that Charger was apt to bite strangers, but Charger was acting more like a children's pony around the boy.

"Not to worry mister, horses like me. What's his name?"

"Charger." Heath was amused, the boy seemed more interested in his horse, than in himself. "He owns me, I'm Heath Barkley, from down by Stockton." He stretched out a hand to the boy who put a small, but calloused hand into his.

"James O'Shannon and of course, Buddy, nowheres and everywhere's home." The roan tossed his head acknowledging his name.

"Jamie!" The older man came up with an angry twisted expression on his face."I told you not to talk to strangers." He hauled the boy around by one arm wrenching it harshly. His pleasure at winning the race was apparently short-lived.

"The boy was just being polite..." Heath tried to intervene.

"Michael..." The boy began, but got a round box on his ears for the trouble.

"Hey!" Heath said.

"You just stay away from my brother." The older man spat out and limping, dragged the boy after him. The roan followed with ears pinned back and took a neat bite out of Michael's backside. Heath managed to stifle his laugh, but not enough as the look Michael shot him was pure poison.

That evening, Heath went to the saloon for a drink and maybe a little poker. He had gone to Strawberry to visit his mother's grave, something he tried to do as often as possible. It was a good place to think about things. He took his time on the trip back and was interested enough in the $50 prize offered for the winner of the horse race. Seeing the competition was just some of the local talent and the young boy mounted on the roan, he figured he had a good chance. Not that he needed the money, but winning would be a challenge. The boy turned out to be a better rider than he looked and the roan quite a horse. He wouldn't mind owning a horse like that.

The black's rider and the Irishman were involved already in heavy drinking and what looked like a lively poker game. Heath ordered a beer and leaning on the bar listened to the two men's conversation.

"The boy your son?" The cowboy asked, fingering a deep scar on his cheek. Heath had noticed that the cowboy's horse had been put away half groomed after the race. He had felt sorry for the beast, it obviously had once been a fine animal. It was a shame when a man didn't care well for his mount. The O'Shannon horse on the other hand, from what little he had seen of it, was bristling with health and good care.

"No. Me brother and right handful, but he can ride. Not as good as me," He leaned forwards, "If it wasn't fer the war 'n this here leg I'd've won the race by three - no by God! five lengths." He took a swallow from his whiskey as if it were water. His face was already flushed by the drink. "So, shall we play a little poker? How about you, boyo?" He directed his comments to Heath. "Since I feel bad about you all losing to the better man."

"Why not." Heath said easily, the implied insult and self-aggrandizement noted. It would be good to take this cocky Irishman down a few notches. Especially as it was the horse and the boy who won the race, not his brother.

The game went on for several hours. Already in the first few hands, Heath could tell where the game was going to go. The Irishman and the cowboy drank red eye steadily, Heath stuck to beer. Both were fair players, but the more inebriated they got, the more reckless their play. The Irishman was triumphant when winning, sullen when losing. Little by little, what money he had or had won from the race was now sitting in front of the cowboy and Heath. Finally, a healthy pot sat on the table. Heath could tell by the fevered glint in the Irishman's eyes that he had a good hand.

"All right. I'll see yer hundred and raise ye 20 dollar." He said pushing the last of his money across the table.

The cowboy fingered his scar and tossed off the rest of his drink. "All right Mick," He grinned savagely, he had a good hand. "I'll see that raise and raise it 50 more."

Heath raised his eyebrows, this was getting a bit rich, but... "Okay, see you and raise 50 more."

"I ain't got the cash, but if ye gentlemen will take something of equal value..." The older O'Shannon said.

"Whacha got?" The scarred cowboy looked almost hungry.

"The horse. Worth easily $200. Won the race didn't he?"

"Suits me." The cowboy looked at Heath who shrugged in agreement.

"All right then, I sees yer bets and raises ye the extra hundred. And call."

"I'll see it." The cowboy grunted and looked at his cards again. That fancy red horse was as good as his.

The Irishman laid down two Jacks and two deuces. "Two pair!" He crowed and made for the rich pot.

"Jest wait Irish. I got me three ladies that say I win." He laughed harshly at the awful expression on the Irishman's face.

"Well now, I wouldn't be too quick to laugh," Heath said quietly "I got me a full house, sevens and aces." He looked the two other players in the eye as he took in the pot which included a hastily scribbled bill of sale from Michael O'Shannon.

About an hour later, a few hours before sunrise there was a nasty scene in the barn which was only witnesses by the two parties involved and several horses.

"Buddy is my horse! Ye had no right to gamble him away! He's mine!" Jamie O'Shannon's voice was shrill with anger and a touch of panic.

"Shet yer mouth. Ain't me fault that lyin' dirty cowboy won him." Michael took another pull at the whiskey bottle draining the last drops.

"Which one did ye lose to?" The boy's voice sounded frightened. The black had been a fair state when brought into the stable. Out of compassion Jamie had curried and cared for the abused creature. If the scarred man had won Buddy, then Buddy would just have to disappear...

"Twas the other, blond feller who came in after ye and ye can't go stealin' him back. They'd hang me for a horse thief." Michael snarled.

"Well ye are one, I raised Buddy from a foal..." The boy's tirade was cut short by the sharp noise of a hand hitting flesh.

"That'll teach ye to raise yer voice to me...after all I done fer yer, ye ungrateful."

"Does that make ye feel better Michael? What are we to do now with no horse to race?" Jamie shot back interrupting what seemed to be a familiar tirade.

"I'll think of somethin'!" Michael yelled back and tried to drain more whiskey out of the empty bottle. "I gotta have more to drink. Give me some money."

"I ain't got any. Ye had it all, remember? Oh, Michael what have ye done to us?"

"It's all yer fault, if I didn't have you hangin' round me neck like a millstone ye good-fer-nothin!" There was the sound of a heavy blow and sharp sob from the boy.

"Stop it Michael, for the love of God..."

"I kept ye safe, without me you know where you'd be. Be thankful." With that the drunk man staggered over to one of the empty stalls and collapsed, leaving the boy to cry quietly. The roan, Buddy, whickered nervously from his stall.

"Oh Rosebud, what am I going to do?" Jamie O'Shannon sobbed against the shoulder of the horse tears mixing with the all too familiar sight of blood from Micheal's beatings. "Ye'll be just fine, that Heath Barkley is a good man. See how good he takes care of his horse. Ye'll have a nice barn to sleep in, good hay in winter and ye can run where ever ye want. I wish I could go with ye, but Michael..." The boy sniffed and wiping the streaming blood from a cut lip with his sleeve was quiet for a moment. "Aye, go with ye...mebbe..." The barn became silent with only the sounds of the snoring drunk and the normal movements of the horses.

It was well past sun-up when Heath left the little town behind. He had been handed over the roan by a very hungover and half-asleep Michael O'Shannon who immediately went back to sleep in his pile of hay. Heath looked around for the boy, but didn't see him anywhere. He turned towards Stockton and home. Home. That thought these days was no stranger to him, home and family. He felt a tug on the rope that had been leading the roan. The horse had been completely docile up until now, accepting the fact that he was to follow Charger. It suddenly tried to pass Charger and the rope and Charger's indignation stopped it. It fretted worriedly prancing and fighting the rope.

"Whoa, boy!" Heath gave the lead a tug and the roan looked at him...reproachfully and then turned to look up the road nostrils wide and ears twitching forwards and back. Heath sighed when he noticed the boy standing by the side of the road. a worn pair of saddle bags were by his feet. He and Charger trotted up to him. The roan tried to greet the boy, but he didn't raise a hand to the horse's enthusiastic welcome.

"Mr. Barkley." The boy's hat shaded his face, but when he tilted his head up to greet the mounted cowboy it revealed several dark bruises and a split lip that was still leaking a drop or two of blood. The boy wiped at it absentmindedly.

"Mr.O'Shannon." Heath leaned on his saddlehorn with his forearms and waited.

"I would buy me horse back from ye." If the boy was near tears he hid it well. "I don't have any money, but I'll work. I'm a good, hard worker, Mr.Barkley. I can do most anything with horses..."

"Your brother said the horse was his, but if you want him back..." Heath began to untie the rope to hand it to the boy. He'd lost good money on the animal, but he felt sorry for the boy.

"Ye misunderstand me Mr.Barkley." The boy took off his dusty black hat and ran fingers through his curly black hair. "Ye gambled with Michael in good faith and Buddy is yours. What I ask is the chance to earn him back, fairly. Not all of us O'Shannon's are cheats and liars."

And bullies, Heath thought to himself. "What about your brother? Won't he miss you? Come looking for you?"

The boy was silent for a moment and his clear blue eyes dropped to stare at the hat in his hands. "Our ways have parted Mr.Barkley. I'll be lookin' out fer meself now."

"Look, Jamie isn't it? I don't really need your horse..." Heath began.

"Mr. Barkley, if ye were me, what would ye do?"

Heath sighed. "Just what you offered. All right James O'Shannon. You'll get $30 a month with a place to bunk and meals. You can pay me back $100 for your horse, then he's yours again. Deal?" Heath leaned over and held out his hand.

Jamie O'Shannon took the offered hand and shook it strongly. "Aye tis a deal."

"Then mount up, we got a whole day's ride before we get home." Heath untied the rope holding the roan and when he turned around he saw the boy was already in the saddle of the roan. The horse began dancing and curvetting as if on a Sunday parade.

"Too bad we shook already, Mr.Barkley. I hate to be takin' advantage of ye, but a shook deal is a done deal me Da always said." Jamie grinned even though it hurt to smile with the bruises. "Buddy is easily worth $200."

"Well now Jamie what I didn't tell you is that you will be working for my brother Nick. He runs the ranch and you'll be taking orders from him. And Boy Howdy, will he work you hard."

ACT ONE

Scene Two: Jamie O'Shannon's secret is revealed to us - actions by the new wrangler are disturbing to both Nick and Heath.

"I swear Heath," Nick shook his head. "You bring home more strays than we do on round-up."

"The boy wants his horse back and is willing to work for it..." Heath shrugged. "He is good with horses. Even Charger seemed to take a shine to him."

Nick snorted."Okay, but you are responsible. The kid messes up and he goes. You sure you can trust him to sleep in the barn? What's wrong with the bunkhouse with the other hands?" Nick poured himself a generous glass of whiskey and took an appreciative swallow. "And why..."

"What's really bothering you about Jamie, Nick?" Heath said with unaccustomed abruptness.

"Well...he...seems..." Nick sputtered.

"Lost." Heath said quietly and took a healthy swallow of his own drink. "Because his brother beat him, gambled away his only friend, that horse, and made life so miserable that he ran away?"

Nick winced. His own initial reception of Heath had been none too friendly and Jamie O'Shannon's story had awoken long buried memories of that time.

"Nick." Heath put a hand on his big brother's shoulder. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have a big brother like you, to look out for them. Without you and Jarrod and the rest of the family, well.." Heath ducked his head. "I just want the boy to feel safe, that someone can care."

"But for the grace of God, go I..." Nick muttered. He raised his eyes to his brother's. "All right, but if he steals all of the horses or makes off with the family silver.." The warning was tempered by a warm smile and Nick's quick , but affectionate slap on his brother's back.

Considering the extra blanket a good excuse to check up on the new wrangler, Nick entered the barn quietly. The small tackroom and it's cot already showed signs of occupancy with a few personal belongings put neatly on the shelves. His eye caught a small framed picture peeking out from under the bedroll. He picked it up and looked at it. It was obviously a family picture. Even though stiffly posed, there seemed a happiness and closeness in the group. He easily saw where Jamie got his shock of curly black hair from his father who was easily a head shorter than his wife who was stunningly beautiful even after the brood of children. Five boys were posed around the parents, while a little curly-haired girl sat confidently in her mother's lap.

"That's mine." Jamie said flatly from behind him. Nick turned to find the boy standing defensively with his hand out.

"Your family?" Nick asked and handed over the photo. Without looking at it Jamie stuffed it into his saddle bags. The boy had been washing up as his hair was wet and face pink from scrubbing. It made the harsh bruises on his face more noticeable.

"Aye." Jamie said flatly his face turned away.

"You must miss them...?" Nick pried gently.

The boy whirled and the crimson of anger added to the pink. "I'll work for ye, Mr. Barkley, and I'll do a good job, but ye keep yer nose out me business and me things, ye hear?" His Irish accent was strong with anger.

"All right boy. No harm. Bright and early for work." He left the barn, his footsteps fading into the distance towards the brightly lit big house.

Jamie O'Shannon sat wearily on the small cot and looked around. It wasn't the most comfortable place in the world, but it sure beat sleeping rough or spending the night in a hayloft. Blowing out the lantern, Jamie was instantly surrounded by the dark and the comforting sound of horses. Thank heaven Heath Barkley had seen the sense of the argument to let Jamie sleep in the barn, closer to the horses that would need caring for.

It was the first time in her life that she was truly alone.

Jamie O'Shannon sighed. It had been a long day. No, it had been a long life. Sometimes she felt closer to 100 than the mere twenty years she had been alive. Her memories of her happy childhood with Da and Mum and five brothers seemed as flat and as dim as the worn photograph in her saddlebags. The last four years on the road with Michael was like going up and down a hilly road. The good times were good and the bad times which had become more frequent were bad. Pray God that this decision she had made was the right one. Too weary to even cry she fell asleep.

In the following weeks, even Nick had to give a grudging nod of acceptance to the new wrangler. Jamie was a hard worker and handled the horses with an ease and sure hand. Just as Heath was quietly proud and Nick becoming grudgingly satisfied with Jamie's work; there were several incidents to change both of their minds.

The first involved an old pony inaptly named 'Fireball'. Fireball lived more up to the name of 'ball' rather than 'fire'. He was a portly little cowpony of indeterminate brown color and a white blaze on his nose. In nature he was placid, but could be kicked into a gallop if need be. He had been Audra's first pony and even though she had several horses since, the old even-tempered beast had a special place in her heart.

Fireball, while not up to being a working cowpony, still had enough life in him to be a special treat for children and other unexperienced riders who occasioned to visit the Barkley ranch. Fireball was a favorite at the orphanage where he stoicly endured sticky hands entwined in his mane and little heels impatiently drumming his barrel sides while he walked placidly following Audra and the bits of apple she tempted him with.

Then Fireball had an accident. It was a little stumble while out to graze with the remuda, or maybe one of the other horses took to kicking the older pony, but when Jamie went to fetch the horses into the barn Fireball remained in a corner of the field with his head down and no weight on his left forefoot.

Jamie put up the rest of the horses and then went out to the pony.

"Eh, m'boy. Let me have a look." Jamie gently ran her hands down the horse's leg and found the ugly swelling and bruises. "Can ye walk? C'mon my dear. Ye'll come with me to the barn? Ay that's it. One step at a time." Little by little and by coaxing and strength of will Jamie got the horse to it's stall in the barn. She offered the suffering animal water and hay, but he ignored eating, but drank thirstily. "I better tell Mr.Heath."

It was late afternoon at the Barkley house when Jamie went up to the front door, hesitated a moment and then knocked. A small smiling woman opened the door.

"Excuse me, I be looking for Heath, uh Mr.Barkley."

The lady put out a hand and smiled. "You must be Jamie. Come in." She pulled her into the hallway. Jamie always felt small around other people, but this smiling lady and she were head and head and eye to eye which was an interesting perspective.

"I have on boots..." Jamie stammered looking around in awe at the carpets, crystal and beautiful things everywhere. "Oh how beautiful." She said impulsively.

"Why thank you." Victoria Barkley beamed. The boy seemed as nice as Heath had hinted at. "Heath went into Stockton for a few days, but I'm sure Nick is here somewhere. Nick!"

"We are in here Mother." Audra stuck her head out of the library. She smiled easily at Jamie.

"Hello! You must be new."

Nick came out to see what his mother wanted. "Yes, Mother?"

"Nick! Introduce us." Audra prodded, she smiled winningly at the young man.

"Audra, my sister, this is Jamie O'Shannon." Nick leaned on the word sister.

"Pleased to meet ye, Miss Barkley." Jamie shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"Well, boy, what is it?" Nick put his hands on his hips and stared down at the young stable hand.

"Fireball has been injured. I thought He...Mr.Heath could have a look at him."

"I'll come have a look." Nick said and brushed past Jamie towards the door.

"Wait Nick, I'll come too." Audra sped past Jamie and her mother. Jamie turned to Victoria and smiled weakly "Mrs. Barkley." and ran after them. Years of running after horses and big brothers, gave Jamie a nice long stride and she soon caught up with the two Barkley's as they crossed to the horse barn.

Jamie stood outside the loose box with Audra as Nick checked the pony's leg. He shook his head.

"Sorry Audra, but it doesn't look too good."

"Couldn't we have the vet in?" Audra asked. She knew that on a working ranch that animals got old or ill and had to be put down, but she didn't have to like it.

"I'm sorry Audra, but Fireball is an old horse...the best thing we can do is put him out of his pain and misery."

"I could put a poultice on..." Jamie cut in. "He walked from the field to the barn."

"Listen boy..." Nick began hotly. He hated the thought of putting the horse down. He knew how much Audra still loved her first mount. He had a sudden picture of her perched on the pony's back, Audra's pigtails bouncing as their father shouted encouragement and instructions. He ran a hand through his hair. "No. Make him comfortable, if he is no better by tomorrow, then we'll have to put him down."

"Oh Nick!" Audra went into the box stall and gave Fireball a hug. The horse nudged her but was too ill to even do anything more. She then turned to her brother and threw herself into his arms. "I understand why ." she sobbed, "But Father taught me to ride on Fireball, it would be like..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

"I know." Nick said kindly and stroked her head gently. "I know."

Jamie felt a large knot in her throat and looked away. Despite her tomboy ways and the scrapping between her and her brothers, they had always been there for her. It was a side of the big rough boss that she had never seen before. She felt a stab of pain for Audra and, if she was to be totally honest, for herself. Her jaw set in determination. She would do her best for the pony despite the boss' orders.

Silas was surprised, but willing to give Jamie the ingredients she needed for the poultice; stale bread, honey, and a few sacks of rolled oats. He had offered Jamie molasses, instead of honey, but she was adamant. Honey was more dear, but still if it was for Miss Audra's old horse, he was sure the family was willing to make the sacrifice. Of course the sacrifice wasn't found out until the next morning.

"Silas?" Victoria asked looking at the groaning breakfast table. "Where's the honey?"

"Why young O'Shannon needed it for the poultice. I gave the boy the whole jar. He said that he needed that much because the poultice had to be changed so often. You know for Miss Audra' old pony, Fireball, that done took sick."

Nick looked up from his plate of ham and eggs. "WHAT?!"

"Oh Nick, thank you!" Audra jumped up and hugged her brother impulsively. "I knew you wouldn't put Fireball down."

"Now wait a minute...I didn't..." Nick sputtered and pulled his sister from off his neck. "I didn't give any orders..." He looked into his sister's crestfallen face and felt very very angry about the spot young O'Shannon had placed him in. Lips pressed tight in anger he stood up from the table. "Excuse me Mother, Audra. I think I better find out what is happening."

"Now Nick, I'm sure the boy meant well." Victoria said calmly.

"I give the orders Mother, like them or not, I expect them to be obeyed!" Now, totally in a foul temper, Nick stormed out of the house.

He was an easy twenty yards from the barn when Jamie heard his first bellow. "O'SHANNON!"

It had actually woke her from the little nap she had been taking. It had been a long night, changing the poultice every hour or so, soothing the pony and making sure that all of her other chores were taken care of. She had been nodding over the polishing of some bridles when the boss' voice woke her. With little or no sleep herself, her own temper was just a little bit testy.

Nick had managed to yell several more times before Jamie decided to answer. "WHAT?" she yelled back and popped out of the pony's stall to confront the irate man.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY GOING BEHIND MY BACK AND TREATING FIREBALL!!"

Jamie crossed her arms and looked peevishly at the man towering over her. It was something her brothers had all tried on her and it just wouldn't work. She deliberately stepped forward so that she was almost toe to toe with him. Off balance, Nick stepped back, giving Jamie a small but distinct advantage. She had made him move.

"I figured I could make the beast better." She said calmly, but through gritted teeth. He had seemed a fair boss up until now, but if anyone knew horses it was herself. She wasn't going to back down an inch - yet.

"NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME!" Nick wasn't going to lower his voice, "I AM THE BOSS, AND I MAKE THE DECISIONS."

"What harm to it? Ye didn't even want to try! Ye want me to take care of yer horses than trust me to do just that!" Jamie's own temper began to flare. A little voice in the back of her head warned her that she was playing with fire, but she ignored it.

"Well maybe I don't trust you..." Nick said slowly and menacingly and took a step forward hands raised. This time Jamie took a step back and then another just to stay out of hitting range. Her own arms went up defensively to protect herself, as she had done so many times with Michael. That if anything, stopped Nick dead in the tracks of his rage. Yeah he was mad, but he wouldn't have laid a hand on the boy. Well maybe a cuff or two, or a good shaking. He lowered his hands and Jamie lowered hers cautiously when the expected blow didn't fall. The two glared at each other. The tenseness was broken by a whicker from the stall.

Nick turned to look at the horse. Last night it could barely hold up it's head, now Fireball was lipping up hay. Instead of holding his whole leg off the ground, the hoof was down on the ground, but not bearing any weight. Nick shot the boy a glare and hunkering down next to the horse, he ran his hand down the leg to the sticky poultice. Fireball shifted nervously, but let him explore the wound. Jamie also sat back on her haunches next to him and began removing the bandage.

"I have to change it. Ye can see that it is getting better." Her hands were quick and efficient.

"Let me see." Nick grunted and inspected the wound. It was still hot and swollen, but seemed better than last night. The old bandage was crusted with matter and pus that had been drawn out of the wound. The new one, warm and smelling strongly of honey was applied.

"How often did you change the bandage?" Nick asked.

"Every couple of hours or so." Jamie shrugged and wiped her hands off on her jeans. From the look of the dried oatmeal and bread bits sticking to them, it wasn't the first time.

Nick stood up towering over the girl who was still smoothing out the bandage. She in turn stood up next to the horse's head and petting his nose glared at him defiantly.

"You up all night?" He asked crossing his arms across his chest.

"Aye." Jamie said looking him as well as she could in the eye. The darn man gave her a crick in the neck. Heath was much easier to get along with.

"Make sure you don't slack on your other work." He shook a finger under her nose. "And don't go getting Audra's hopes up with all this." He continued sternly.

"Yes boss." Jamie said, realizing with a sigh that she had almost got herself fired. Then where would she and Buddy be?

Nick buried himself in the business of running the ranch that day. He missed having Heath around, especially after this problem with Fireball. It was well into the evening, when he went into the barn to check up on the horse and Jamie. He was pleased to see that the barn and the horses had been taken take of with Jamie's usual efficiency. He didn't see any sign of the boy, but went to look at Fireball who greeted him with some interest and a nudge for a piece of apple or carrot.

"Well boy, you sure are looking better." Nick patted the horse on the neck. He felt the horse's leg, it still seemed sore but much better. The poultice was still warm, so he assumed that the boy was still around.

Jamie peered at Nick from the safety of Buddy's stall. She figured it might be more prudent to stay out of the boss' way for a little while - maybe the next week or so. The pony was going to get better, she could feel it in her bones. Her sigh was echoed by Buddy's snuffle against her shoulder. Nick got up and just as he left the barn turned and said just loud enough for her to hear. "Good job, boy."

Jamie wrinkled her nose at him. Darn the man, he knew she was there all the time. He was as annoying as her brother Sean had been, the know-it-all. Sean had always been so self-righteous, it was no wonder that he had been contemplating joining the ministry before the war broke out. Not that he fooled his brothers and sister. If Sean wasn't right, he made it right or convinced you that he was right even though you were sure you were right.

When Heath got back from his two days in Stockton, he found an uneasy situation between his brother and Jamie. Nick was willing to give the boy credit for saving Fireball, but he was still simmering about the boy's disobedience of orders.

"Dang it Heath, if everyone starts second guessing my orders this ranch will go to hell in a hand basket." Nick fumed.

"Uh huh." Heath nodded, but the corners of his mouth twitched. Jamie just didn't know how to handle Nick.

Nick looked at his brother suspiciously. Heath wasn't siding with the boy, was he?

"Look Nick, why doesn't Jamie handle the men's mounts for a week or two. Getting up before sunrise should take his mind off - ah - aggravating you." Heath said straight faced.

"You think you are going to handle him better than me?" Nick curved an eyebrow at his brother. Heath was riding him. "Bet cha five dollars that you loose your patience in a week."

"Deal! Boy Howdy, I sure do like it when you just hand money over to me." Heath grinned.

If Jamie had anything to say about her new orders, she kept it to herself. The rest of the hands accepted the change with some suspicion. A cowboy depended on his mount and neglect or any mistakes could not only cost a man his ride, but often his most important tool, and more often than not his best friend, the horse he rode. After a day or so, Jamie began to make subtle changes in the mounting. Most of the hands took it in stride, a change of pace was always good. Very few noticed that they were gradually being matched with horses that suited their riding styles and temperament. But of course, not everyone can be satisfied and even the fine Barkley remuda wasn't up to mounting every type of rider - especially the poor ones.

One such hand was Peachtree Williams. Peachtree was a fairly good-looking big man running a bit to a paunch and losing his hair. Most of his pay was spent on fancy shirts and foul-smelling concoctions guaranteed to return hair to its once resplendent glory. His buddy, Johannsen improved his looks by the addition of gold teeth. He had four and was saving up for a fifth. Peachtree, like most bad riders, fancied himself a great horseman, and favored flashy mounts. When the third morning in a row Jamie had handed over a less than desirable horse he had taken exception.

"Ah always rides Daisy," He said and picked up Jamie by the front of her shirt. His thick Georgia accent thicker with anger.

"Ah, but Mr.Williams yer such a big man." Jamie hoped that her poor shirt wasn't going to tear. "Ye need a strong horse."

"Oh , yeah. Good idea, kid." He dropped the boy and mounted the placid looking hayburner.

Daisy was handed over to one of the hands with a lighter hand on the rein to suit Daisy's sensitive mouth. The horse seemed to nod happily to Jamie at the choice. It was only when the men were sitting around the campfire enjoying a cup of coffee and a quick lunch that the subject of new mounts came up. Daisy's rider made the mistake of saying how he enjoyed riding the horse and what a fine responsive animal she was. Peachtree had a time controlling his own hard-mouthed horse and began to fume.

Johannsen fanned the flames by laughing. "The boy fooled ya, Peachtree, he done gave you a plug."

"None of our horses are plugs." Heath remarked quietly. "Let's get back to work boys." He figured that was the last of the matter.

"Bastard." Peachtree muttered and spat.

Johannsen elbowed him sharply. The boss might really be a bastard, but it wasn't something said out loud on the Barkley ranch. Not and remain employed there.

"He stuck up for the little Irish git." Peachtree snarled and took out a lot of his anger on his mount. This served to make it open warfare between Jamie and Peachtree. Heath began to wonder why it took so long for the crew to get mounted in the morning. His first thought was that Jamie was obvious not up to the job. He was disappointed. He felt like he had a vested interest in the boy. He began to snap at the boy trying to get him to pick up his feet and get going. Jamie was hurt that Heath doubted her skills with the horses. So, she wasn't so good working with that lout Peachtree. He didn't count - the horses did.

"Look Jamie..." Heath began one evening after supper. Jamie was in the stall with Buddy currying the horse to a gleam. "What's going on with you?"

"Tisn't me." Jamie said shortly. Peachtree kept trying to lay hands on her, but she knew better than to let him within arm's reach.

"Well, by golly. There's something goin' on! What it is it, if it ain't you?" Heath was exasperated.

"Look here Heath." Jamie charged out of Buddy's box much to the horse's displeasure. He wasn't done with the brushing. She pulled the steady large horse that Peachtree had been riding the last two days into the aisle in the barn. She showed him the spur marks and signs of rough handling that the horse had endured. "That Peachtree fancies hisself a good rider, but all he wants to do is show the horse who is boss - anyway he can. Daisy was near done in by him, Silverado here is much stronger, but even he is being worn down. The poor beasts are just doing their job, and I'm doing mine!" Jamie crossed her arms and scowled at Heath.

Heath had the distinct impression that the next unspoken sentence was, 'And you Heath Barkley, better do your job.'

*****

Heath handed five dollars to Nick. He went to the pool table and rolled a ball idly across the table.

"What's this?" Nick asked.

"Our bet." Heath said shortly. "I lost."

"Oh?" Nick grinned and held up the bill. "Mebbe I should get this framed?"

"Oh shut up." Heath said grouchily. "Might have to fire someone..."

"Jamie?" Nick's eyebrows knit together. The boy wasn't that bad, not that it was easy to get Heath riled.

"No. Peachtree Williams, he's been riding the stock a might rough." Heath interpreted his brother's expression of burgeoning anger, a horse was a valuable piece of property. "Not too bad, but enough to get Jamie upset about 'the beasts'. I had to have a talk with Peachtree. He'll be more careful, but I'm afraid things aren't too good between him and O'Shannon."

"Might be simpler to fire O'Shannon." Nick said idly and tucked the five dollars in his pocket.

"He's just doing his job." Heath said defensively. "The boy is just better with horses than with people."

"Well, that's for sure!" Nick laughed. "I think we'll just keep him on so's I can win another five dollars off of you now and again." He patted his pocket satisfied.

ACT ONE

Scene Three: Jamie gets into a fight and has a philosophical discussion with Nick.

On payday, a few days later, Jamie's precious thirty dollars was immediately handed over to a rather embarrassed Heath.

"You should keep a little for yourself. Buy yourself a new shirt or somethin'" Heath untactfully pointed out the neatly darned holes that Jamie's thick wool shirt sported. Even though it was late summer, the heat didn't really allow such a thick shirt. Heath figured that the boy owned a total of two shirts and the wool one was the better of the two. The other was a grey shirt of unrecognizable age and material, it was so worn.

Jamie hesitated, much as she wanted to pay for Buddy, maybe a little for herself wouldn't be such a bad idea. She handed Heath twenty-five dollars and kept five for herself. It was almost a fortune for the girl after Michael's high-handed use of their funds on himself.

Added to the fun of payday was a trip into Stockton for all the hands. Nick himself rode along apparently on business for the ranch, but he enjoyed the happy banter of the hands and teased them about their plans for their pay. Williams scowled at the boy, he was surely riding too fine a horse for just a snotty kid. The roan was just the kind of horse a man like him should be riding.

Jamie was happy to be going into town and riding her horse which was now at least one-quarter hers again. In her euphoria, she didn't notice Peachtree's glares and mutterings. When an impromptu race into town was started she and Buddy soon left most of the group way behind. So, she was in town a good half hour before Peachtree and Johannsen. She spent a nice time window shopping and making some judicious purchases. She spent a whole dollar on a big jar of honey for Silas. It was late afternoon when Peachtree and Johannsen caught up to her in one of the stores. Jamie was fingering a blue-checked shirt critically when she heard the jingle of spurs and the distinctive drawl of Peachtree Williams.

"Well looky-hyar Johannsen." He laughed and it was not a kind laugh. "If it tisn't Heath Barkley's little tame Irish boy." He was joined in laughter by his sidekick Johannsen. "Sitting like some one better on that big red horse."

Jamie glared at the bully, but calmly turned her back on him. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled as she figured he was not done with her, yet.

"Don' turn your back on me boy..." Williams reached out a beefy paw to lay on Jamie's shoulder. "I think mebbe you need to learn a lesson to respect your betters." His fingers dug painfully into her shoulder. "Right Johan..." He never finished the remark to his buddy because Jamie stomped on his foot with her boot and twisted out of his grasp. She danced back out of the way. Unfortunately, Johannsen and Williams were between her and the door. She shot a look at the storekeeper who was more interested in protecting his stock.

"Take it outside boys." He warned and hefted a heavy broom. He unfairly went for the smallest party and swept Jamie into Johannsen's waiting grasp. "Suits me." he grinned showing his four gold teeth. He easily dragged the unwilling victim out into the street.

"It takes two of ye to beat up one?" Jamie said loudly, hoping some passer-by would step in and save her hide.

"We'll take turns." Williams said generously. "Then we'll go and take care of the Barkley bastard."

"He's a good man and ten times better than you scum!" Jamie hotly rose to the defense of her hero. "Yer no better than the manure ye never wash off yer boots." Sure enough, both men looked to their feet automatically and Jamie wrenched herself free from Johannsen's grip. Her temper was up and bad odds or no, she would fight. Having five brothers was sometimes a blessing and it was the twins Liam and Andrew who had taught her how to fight.

"Yer small and yer quick." Andrew said, always being positive. "Ye gotta keep movin'"

"But if they catch ye, yer dead." Liam was the pessimist. "Don't let them catch ye."

"Hit them where it hurts and run like hel- er heck."Andrew advised, mindful of his language around his little sister. Then the brothers told her carefully where it would hurt most and made her swear never to use it on any of her brothers in their all-too-frequent family fights. The O'Shannon's all had quick hot tempers.

Jamie had strong and limber legs from years of horseback riding and her kick to Johannsen's most delicate part of anatomy was hard. The result was gratifying. Actually, more than gratifying. Jamie was so amazed at watching the man double over, turn white, then red, then gasp for breath like a beached fish and finally fold to the ground and whimper like a babe clutching his injured parts, that she forgot her brother's second bit of advice - to run like hell.

"You Irish whelp!" Williams bellowed, seeing his friend downed by that little twerp. His roundhouse punch, if had connected, would have probably broken Jamie's jaw and put her back into last week. She turned just in time to catch the blow on her right shoulder, sending her spinning back to slam against the store window which shimmered and shook, but to her and the storekeeper's relief, remained intact. The next punch thrown by Williams shattered the window as she ducked to the right.

Nick had heard William's bellow down by the hardware store. 'You Irish whelp.' Heath had said that Peachtree would take it out on the boy, but he hadn't put much into it. Maybe he should.

"Put that on the ranch's bill. I'll be back later to pick it up." He said and strolled out just in time to see Williams swing again at the dodging boy. His lips thinned as he saw Johannsen still mewling and rolling in the dust. The two of them had ganged up on Jamie?

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" He bellowed in his boss' tone of voice.

Jamie turned instinctively towards Nick's voice and caught a punch in the face. She went flying and landed at Nick's feet. She stared up at him rather owlishly, her ears ringing. His face seemed to shimmer and move. Williams jumped after his prey and seeing that it was down was prepared to do some serious damage. He walked straight into Nick's fist which sent reeling back to step on Johannsen who responded with another howl of anguish and his own quick kick to his friends delicate parts. Both remained an untidy heap in the middle of the street moaning and groaning.

"Who's going to pay for my window!" The storekeeper came out, now that all the combatants were down and out.

"Who started it?" Nick said as he stood protectively near Jamie. The boy was having trouble focusing, but seemed to be moving.

"Them two." The storekeeper pointed a thumb to Williams and Johannsen. He could see which side his bread was buttered on and the Barkley's were good customers. "They was saying bad things about Mr.Heath and the youngin'." He grinned hopefully.

Nick walked over to Williams and pulled him up by the shirt. "You're fired. Both of you. Get your gear and get out." He then nodded to the storekeeper. "Send us the bill for the window."

Jamie pulled herself up into a sitting position. She touched her cheek tenderly and looked in surprise that it was still there. A hand appeared in front of her face. She stared up at Nick . He was grinning at her broadly.

"C'mon boy." He waved the hand impatiently in front of her face. She grabbed it and he pulled her to her feet. Everything went gray for a moment and she found her face plastered against his chest and her feet scrambling to find the ground which seemed to have disappeared out from under her.

"Whoa, easy." The man had the nerve to laugh again and Jamie took a deep breath and found the ground had returned and she could peel her face off his leather vest. She tried to stand on her own, but found that now the town was rotating in a lazy procession around her. Nick Barkley's firm and comforting grip on her shoulders was the only thing keeping her from eating dust again.

Nick waited chuckling, while the boy's eyes began to focus again and his legs steady up. "Your first fight?" He asked amused, the boy seemed all right and was recovering quickly. Williams and Johannsen could have done a lot of damage...

"Uh-huh. 'Cept me brothers of course." Jamie cautiously opened her eyes and was pleased to find that things had stopped moving around.

Nick put a rather insistent arm around Jamie's shoulders. "Well boy, you've had a good fight..."

"Which I lost," Jamie muttered and touched her cheek again, just to make sure. Nick was guiding her gently, but firmly down the street. "Don't need a doctor." She said suddenly, frightened that was where he was leading her. "I'm fine."

"I know that. But you should celebrate your first fight. And you didn't lose."

"Feels like I did." Jamie muttered.

Nick pushed the boy through the batwing doors into the saloon. "The next thing to learn is how to drink like a man."

She looked around the saloon with a great deal of interest. Michael, for all of his failings, never let her into an establishment so male as this. She watched as Nick swaggered up to the bar and slapping the bar got the bartender's attention.

"Two beers." He ordered in his less than quiet voice.

Jamie straightened her shoulders, the right gave her a twinge of pain, but she managed a credible imitation of Nick Barkley's swagger and caught the eye of the bartender.

"Ye can drink that cat piss if ye want, boss, but I'll have a whiskey." She raised a defiant look to Nick, her blue eyes boring into his in challenge. He tilted his head accepting the dare.

"Okay, make that two whiskeys, Sam." He said to the bartender. He spun a coin onto the top of the bar. "First one on me." He figured the boy would probably die after the first sip of the strong drink.

Jamie took a delicate sniff at the glass, it didn't have the fine peaty odor of a good Irish whiskey, but it would do. How was Nick Barkley to know that her father had taught all of his children to take a nip of the strong drink now and then? She hadn't had a good drink in years, not since Michael had taken to drinking too seriously for anyone's health. She saw him grin in anticipation over his own drink thinking her hesitation fear. Well she had shown him that she could fight when the odds weren't fair, drinking was probably the next test of their...friendship? The thought was disturbing enough to cause her to toss off the whole shot at once, not savor it like Da had taught her. The raw liquid caused her to catch her breath and tears gathered. She blinked them back rapidly as the slow burn slid down her throat to her belly and the warmth began to spread.

Taking the challenge, Nick tossed his whiskey back in one gulp. He grimaced at the bite and smiled as the boy seemed to take the whiskey well in stride. "Another?"

"Why not?" Jamie shrugged and was pleased to notice that her shoulder didn't seem to hurt much anymore. She carefully fished a treasured coin out of her pocket and placed it on the bar. "Ye got anything older than two weeks?"

The bartender raised his eyebrows, not many cowpokes complained about the red eye, and certainly not one that looked like he hadn't even begun to shave. He looked at Mr. Barkley who gave him an imperceptible nod. He pulled a bottle out from under the bar and poured two drinks, careful not to spill a drop of the good stuff.

Jamie took her time to sniff it and admire the color against the light of the late afternoon sun. She took a cautious sip and sighed appreciatively. "That, Nick, is better." She took a good swallow and nodded to him. "Aye a fair drink, mind you, me Da had a bottle of ten year old malt that would make ye cry for it's smoothness. We finished the bottle Micheal and I at his wake and buried the bottle with him. T'was a fitting end." Half of her was startled at the words as they slipped out, but it felt so natural to talk to Nick. He was her boss, her good friend, wasn't he?

Nick grinned down at the short wrangler. This boy was one surprise after another. He had been touched by Jamie's loyalty to Heath and the Barkley name enough to get into a fight he knew he couldn't win. He felt that a beer would be a sign of acceptance and here he was apparently involved in tossing back enough whiskey that would have put most boys Jamie's age running for the outhouse or under a table.

"Fitting end?" Nick asked.

"For the whiskey, of course." Jamie said leaning comfortably against the bar. "Da didn't die happy. Mum's going had hit him hard." She took another swallow of the whiskey and didn't notice as Nick signaled to the bartender to fill up her glass again." Hit all of us hard, but he didn't like us to show the greavin'. Save yer cryin' for the rain, he said."

"That's pretty hard..." Nick said sympathetically. He was learning more about Jamie O'Shannon than he had in the whole month he had been working for them.

"Never rains when ye need it." Jamie muttered. "Ye notice that Nick? " His vest seemed to moving towards her. She pulled herself back and found the bar she had been leaning against had shifted to a new location. Nick's hand saved her from losing her balance completely and re-propped her on the bar. She looked in amazement at the full glass. She swore she had emptied the drink. Oh well, mustn't waste the stuff. She was raising the glass to her lips when a hand stopped her.

"You've had enough." Nick said half laughing. The boy had downed two shots like a trouper, but was beginning to look a little worse for the wear. A third drink and he'd be carrying the boy home across his saddle. Heath wouldn't take to kindly to that, being rather protective of Jamie. Shucks, he even felt a sense of responsibility for young O'Shannon.

"Really? I guess ye be right...poor thing when ye can't hold yer likker. Michael was like that. He just kept on drinking, it never was enough. Why is that Nick? We had the ranch, we could have made it, just the two of us. But he drank and drank." The bar seemed determined to move out from under her.

"Don't know, son. Sometimes a man gets so wrapped up in his own troubles he can't see what he has and what he is giving away. "Nick wrapped his arm around the fast fading youngster and nodded to the bartender. He led her out of the saloon into the gathering dusk. Jamie leaned against him gratefully, thankful for the strong arm that refused to move out from under her like the bar had. He smelled good, leather, horse, whiskey and those awful cigars he smoked. They made their way to the livery stable where all the horses greeted them enthusiastically. Nick was always amazed by the reaction that Jamie O'Shannon caused with the animals. He carefully sat the boy on a bale of hay and started saddling Coco and Buddy. He swore that Buddy looked at him with contempt at getting Jamie drunk.

"Not my fault." He said out loud and slapped the horse's neck as it tried to take a nip out of him.

"That's what I told Michael." Jamie said suddenly getting up carefully from the hay bale. "Not my fault being who I was. But he hated it. In the end, he hated me."

"He was your brother, how could he hate you?" Nick said his brow furrowed. He could no sooner hate his brothers...sure they got mad and fought at times, but hate? He tightened the saddle's cinch. "Can you ride?"

"He won't let me fall. Will ye boyo?" Jamie was next to him. The big roan nuzzled her hair affectionately. "Eh Rosebud?" she whispered.

Nick winced, surely not Rosebud. Probably heard wrong. He gave the inebriated girl a boost into the saddle. Once there her equilibrium seemed sure and the hand on the reins firm. Only the over bright eyes revealed the state of drunkenness. The two of them rode towards the Barkley spread in companiable silence.

"Do ye think that's why he did that?" Jamie asked suddenly.

"Who did what?" Nick felt like he had come into the middle of a conversation that the boy had been having silently with himself.

"When I asked ye about Michael drinking. Ye said a man could get wrapped up in his own troubles he can't see what he has or what he is giving away."

"Yeah. It can be like that. The war changed a lot of men. Sometimes it can make you stronger and sometimes it could make you weaker. You shouldn't judge him for that." Nick felt a sour taste in his mouth. He'd just as soon have Michael O'Shannon here to beat up for making this young man's life miserable.

"I may be young, but I'm not stupid Nick. I still love my brother. But, I couldn't stay with him anymore."

"Because he gambled your horse away."

"No. Because with the horse gone, the only thing he had left to sell was me." With that Jamie dug her heels into Buddy's side and took off at an easy canter that stopped any conversation.

"Damn." Nick rubbed a hand on the back of his neck and let Coco have his head to follow the gelding and Jamie O'Shannon, now he would like to have Michael O'Shannon here to shoot.

ACT TWO - ALAMEDA

Scene One: The horse auction in Alameda - we meet a new, but familiar face.

The next few days were too busy for both wrangler and boss of the Barkley's ranch for their paths to cross other than briefly. Much as Heath liked working with the horses, he found himself giving Jamie more and more responsibility as he helped Nick with the cattle and fence work and other immediate chores. The Barkley horses began to look sleek and healthy.

That Sunday, dinner was a lively affair. Audra had a letter from an old school friend who was in San Francisco visiting. She was over the hill with plans and excitement when Victoria insisted on inviting the girl to the ranch for a few weeks.

"We can pick her up after the horse auction in Alameda." Nick said easily. "Think she'll mind traveling in the cattle car with all the horses we are going to buy?" He grinned as his little sister rose to the bait.

"Nick! Belle is a lady." Audra protested hotly.

"What do you mean horses we are going to buy?" Heath protested, "Any horses you buy will probably have three legs or so swaybacked you don't need a saddle. I thought I'd take Jamie with me and leave you to herd the goats."

"Now look here...goats?!" Nick sputtered. Heath was so good at getting his back up.

"Oh yeah, cattle. It's all right Nick, some day you'll find out the truth." Heath tried to keep a poker face but Audra's giggles and Jarrod's snort of amusement undid them all and they laughed heartily.

"If you think I'm going to let you go without me to Alameda, you've got another thing coming little brother." Nick said smiling broadly. "Jamie would have you buying every knock-kneed toothless nag and tell you 'I ken make the beast better'." His imitation of Jamie's liquid Irish accent was deplorable.

"And if you think I'm going to let the three of you traipse off to Alameda without me, you have another thing coming." Jarrod said raising his eyebrows.

"Whatsamatter Pappy, don't you trust your little brothers on a simple horse buying trip?" Nick asked.

Jarrod smiled. "Nope."

"Oh good, then I can go too and meet Belle." Audra said happily.

"NO!" All three men chorused together.

"Why ever not?" Audra looked at her brothers suspiciously. "Oh would I be in the way...?"

"That's all right Audra, I think I would like to go too. It would be nice to meet some of our old friends again. And I am sure that our presence won't put a crimp in any of your brother's plans." Victoria eyed her sons, all of whom nodded rather sheepishly, their plans for a wild week in Alameda severely crimped.

When the men gathered in the library for a drink and a friendly game of pool, Heath brought up the subject of the trip again. "Seriously Nick, I'd like to take Jamie with us. The boy has a real knack for horses. He can be a real asset."

"Yeah, sure. Why not." Nick was sitting relaxed in the chair. He smiled as he watched the firelight reflect off the glass of fine whiskey in his hand. He was sure Jamie would appreciate some of Jarrod's 'good stuff. "We can tell him tomorrow."

"We could ask him." Jarrod said.

"I'm the boss. He takes orders from me. If he doesn't like them..." Nick growled.

"He says so." Heath said quietly and grinned as Nick glared at him. Nick had tried to forget the incident with the old horse that Jamie had insisted on saving. The boy had cared for the sick animal for two days without any sleep and had brought a much-loved but almost useless mount back from death's door. Nick had been furious at the boy's defiance, but had grudgingly given credit to the boy's determination and skill.

"You can...ask him." Nick nodded to Heath.

"The boy will need some new clothes." Jarrod said, "There will be as much horse trading at the social events as in the auction ring. As will you little brother." He pointed his finger at Heath who looked disgusted.

"Mebbe me and Jamie will just bed down with the horses." Heath hated social events with a passion and his big brothers seemed determined to break him of his shyness by force. Both of them smiled at him wolfishly. He groaned.

"Hey, remember that outfit Aunt Julia brought you once from New York?" Jarrod smiled at Nick.

"Oh yeah, the short velvet trousers and the frilly white shirt." Nick gloated.

"I'll shoot myself first, no, by heck I'll shoot the two of you." Heath said and started backing up.

"Naw, wouldn't fit you, but it might fit Jamie..." Nick smiled.

All three men looked very pleased with themselves. Nick chortled to himself, let's just see if Jamie O'Shannon would have something to say about the trip to Alameda.

*****

Heath got the impression that the boy was more than happy to be going with the Barkley family to Alameda. After the threat of the velvet suit, which luckily turned out to be too small, an old suit of Jarrod's proved to be just the thing. None of Nick's old suits seemed to have survived his rough childhood. The short Spanish style jacket suited the young man. His English riding boots were shined to a bright polish and the flat crowned black hat brushed within an inch of a hole being worn into it. He was trying not to seem too enthusiastic but Heath found him still polishing the buggy's harness well after dark the night before they were to leave.

"You better get some sleep." Heath said and pulled the already gleaming leather and brass work from the boy's hands.

"I want them to know that the Barkley's are the best..." the boy blushed and ducked his head.

Heath put his hand on the boy's head. "So are you Jamie O'Shannon. You have done good." He ruffled the dark curls that were soft and springy and wrapped around his fingers. The boy shot him a strange look of confusion and need.

"Thank ye Heath, thank you for everything." He said quietly looking at Heath with a soft loving look.

"Get to bed Jamie." He said gruffly and took his hand off the boy's head. As he left the barn he tried to figure out the look the boy had given him. Kinda like Audra. He shook his head, Boy Howdy, looks like he just got adopted as a big brother. He should ask Nick how to handle this sort of thing. He was the best big brother a guy could have.

*****

The Alameda Horse Auction was a yearly event that pulled horse fanciers, wranglers, vaqueros from Mexico and many people just interested in taking part of the festivities. Grifters, gamblers, con-men and ladies of the night also were on hand for the less choosy in their entertainment. The Barkley's were comfortably ensconced in their own suite in the hotel. They had three bedrooms. Victoria and Audra were to share one. The men the other two. Jamie's enthusiasm for the trip died as she realized that she was expected to share a room with one of the Barkley men.

"I - I can find a room somewhere." she stammered and started backing up out of the door. "I'm just a stable boy..."

"Won't be a free room in town. Everything is booked solid." Jarrod said. The boy looked terrified. "Besides which you are our horse expert, not just a stable boy. Right Heath?"

"Yep. Don't worry, you can sleep with me. Nick and Jarrod snore so loud the windows will rattle. They deserve each other."

"Me? I don't snore." Jarrod protested. "Nick snores, I just breathe heavy."

"Oh yes, you have to stay here." Audra smiled at the young man. He looked ever so attractive in Jarrod's old suit. Her mother shook her head, hopefully Audra wasn't getting ideas about the young O'Shannon. Not that she didn't like the boy, but what did they know about him?

Jamie swallowed, but nodded. She had been working with the Barkley's long enough to know that when they made up their minds it was best to seem to obey. She would find some way to avoid sharing a room with Heath. The thought of sleeping in her clothes for a week didn't appeal at all and how was she going to wash? This trip was rapidly turning from a great adventure to a nightmare.

Dinner in the hotel that night was pleasant. Old friends of the Barkley's were constantly stopping by the table to exchange greetings and trade horse stories. Victoria was pleased to notice that Jamie O'Shannon had neat table manners and ate almost daintily. The boy was quiet, but listened seriously to the talk that flowed around them. He listened intently to Audra's chatter, but in no way seem to encourage the young lady in himself. He actually looked horrified when Audra put a hand on his arm. He managed to remove it without anyone but Victoria noticing. She caught the boy's eye and he blushed furiously and bent his head to his plate.

"Hey, Nick! You old horse thief!" a bright voice interrupted them. a young man with curly brown hair and green eyes approached the table.

Nick sprang up and gave the young man an enthusiastic hand shake. "Joe! Dang it's been ages. Are you all here?"

"Nope. Just me this year." The young man grinned infectiously. "I talked Pa into letting me come alone this year. Left my brothers at home to stew."

"Too bad I couldn't do the same..." Nick muttered.

"Nicholas..." His mother warned.

"Mother this is Joe Cartwright from the Ponderosa."

"Ben Cartwright's youngest? How is Ben?" Victoria smiled at the young man.

"Just fine ma'am."

"Be sure to send him my regards. Tom and I used to see him quite often before, well before Tom passed away."

"Yes ma'am he always spoke of Mr.Barkley with a great deal of respect."

Audra nudged Nick with her foot.

"Ah, Joe this is my sister Audra."

"Miss Audra, my you do bring a ray of sunshine to Alameda." His dimples appeared as he smiled at Audra who was immediately in love.

"And..." Nick dragged the two forcibly apart. "My older brother Jarrod, you've met." Joe Cartwright shook his hand. "And my younger brother Heath."

If Joe Cartwright felt confused about meeting a Barkley brother he'd never heard of he covered it well. "Heath." He said and shook his head.

"This is Jamie O'Shannon our best wrangler. You better watch out, between Heath and O'Shannon we are going to get all the good horses." Nick warned.

"O'Shannon." Joe looked at the young boy. Your family have a horse farm down by Reno don't you?"

"Aye." Jamie's eyes widened as she realized that the Ponderosa had done a lot of business with her father in the years before the war. She remembered the oldest boy, Adam vaguely. Surely, Joe Cartwright was too young to have met her or remember the family.

"Shoot, Pa got me Cochise from your father. He's the best horse in the world." He shook the confused Jamie's hand vigorously. Talking horses was surely going to be more interesting than pursuing the beautiful Miss Barkley. "We'll have to get together and talk about things."

"I'll be pretty busy Mr.Cartwright." Jamie shot a helpless gaze to Heath. She didn't want to talk about things that no longer existed.

"We have a lot to do." Heath cut in. "Jamie is here to work." He nodded to the boy. Joe Cartwright didn't have to bring up bad memories.

"Say," the irrepressible Cartwright said, "You aren't one of those with the gift? I heard Pa and Adam talk about it."

"The gift?" Audra asked looking at the two interesting young men.

"Yeah, the O'Shannon's have the gift of the horse." He laughed. "You know, kinda talk to them." His eyebrows wiggled half in disbelief. "And the horses listen."

Jamie O'Shannon found herself the center of attention. "I'm good with the horses. If ye want to call it the gift of the horse, suit yerselves. Excuse me, Mrs.Barkley, Miss Audra. I think I'll take a walk before turning in." Once outside of the hotel, Jamie desperately went looking for a quiet place to try to think. Unfortunately, Alameda was bristling with extra people and in the early hours of the evening there wasn't a place that didn't have men, women, or horses.

As bad as life was with Michael, he was still there to protect her. To help her keep her secret. Now she had no one. Much as she liked the Barkley's, she knew that they would be disgusted and angry if they ever found out that she had lied to them. She paled at the thought of Heath's silent disapproval, Jarrod's contempt. Victoria and Audra would look at her with barely concealed loathing and Nick would yell and then they would all turn their backs on her.

"There you are." Heath put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't mind a walk myself. Kinda hard being polite when you aren't used to it." He felt the boy jump under his hand, but kept it there and used it to steer the boy towards the corrals. There were already a good selection of horses milling around and a few people like themselves leaning on the fence and eyeing the stock.

Jamie slowly relaxed in Heath's silent company as they eyed the horses silently. One or two came over to whiffle at them and pay their respects.

"What do you think?" Heath asked.

"Nice confirmation, but he's lazy, will never run when he can walk. Let some grandmother buy him or some kid's first pony." Jamie said slowly.

"Boy howdy, Jamie, I thought I knew horses. Joe's right. You do talk to them"

"No. Ye just have to notice things. He has poor muscle tone, likes the feed bag too much, that one. He walks without liftin' up his feet and the hooves are cracked and ragged from only walking. I got a sharp eye." Jamie shrugged.

"How about that one." He pointed out a flashy black that was fighting to keep his corner to himself.

"He's scared. He hates to be boxed in. He's been beaten and used bad. He's got a lot of spirit, and he'll give his heart to ye if ye treat him right."

"Yeah. I see the whip marks." Heath said and looked at the boy next to him. His life was much like that horse's in the corral. "Worth bidding on?"

"Aye."

"Okay."

The two stood there silently until the sun began to slip down the horizon.

"C'mon let's get back before Mother sends a search party out to look for us." Heath finally said.

ACT TWO

Scene Two: We learn a bit about Jamie's past - Victoria becomes intrigued. Little Joe and Jamie head for trouble.

When they got to the hotel room they were greeted only by Victoria who was presiding over a teapot.

"Audra's gone to bed, Nick and Jarrod have gone out for their 'walk'." She explained.

"I do like a cup of tea before bed. Would you care for a cup?" She didn't miss the permission that Jamie asked Heath silently before answering.

"Yes, ma'am. I would rightly like a cup of tea. Me mum always said that coffee was fine for workin', but a body needs tea for the soul."

"I agree with your mother." Victoria laughed. "The boys only drink tea with me out of politeness. I believe they call it dishwater behind my back."

"Now Mother," Heath protested. "I'm drinking it aren't I?" He tossed the cup of tea back causing both Jamie and Victoria to wince. "I'll think I'll go join Jarrod and Nick in their 'walk'..." He made a swift exit leaving the two to their steaming cups of tea.

"This is a fine brew Miz Barkley ma'am." Jamie sniffed appreciatively at the heady aroma.

"It is a special blend called Earl Grey. It is quite my favorite. Jarrod buys it for me in San Francisco."

"Da liked China black and mum would put a little lemon and clove in it when we were feeling poorly." Jamie remembered her mother kissing away her tears and giving a cup of fragrant tea. Mum could always make things all right. She felt a knot well up in her throat.

"How old were you when your mother died?" Victoria had noticed the feelings that crossed the boy's face. He must have been fairly young, just like Heath when he lost his mother. There seemed to be a lot of similarities to James O'Shannon and Heath Thomson Barkley.

"I was 14..."

Victoria frowned. The boy couldn't be much older than 16 and yet Heath had said he had been traveling with his brother for about four years.

As if reading her thoughts Jamie looked up, "I am a lot older than I look Miz Barkley. I was running the ranch with my Da since me brother's all went off to the war. Only Michael came back and he wasn't Michael any more. I lost them all that awful war. It makes me so mad sometimes. It killed my mum, and that killed Da. In the end, I suppose I'll die of it too. Better to die with a gun in yer hand than to stay at home and watch it all disappear. Ach, sorry Miz Barkley, I be in a fey mood today. I'll be going to sleep now." Jamie carefully placed the teacup in it's place and was shocked speechless when Mrs. Barkley stood up to pull her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

"That's what your mother would have done, a cup of tea and a kiss."

Jamie blinked, "Aye. Thank ye ma'am." She beat a hasty retreat to the room she was to share with Heath. To her relief there was a small cot made up next to the big bed. She hastily made a wash and groaned when she realized that it was her time of the month, No wonder everything was misery and pain today. This made things a lot harder. Luckily, she never came unprepared for the very female event that came to her whether she wanted to be a boy or not.

Her mind went back to when during the war she had dressed willingly as a boy. She and her father and young Patrick had run the horse farm even though her four older brothers were gone. When Patrick died of influenza and they heard of Sean's death the life seemed to go out of her mother. She didn't seem to notice that her daughter had disappeared and was seen more and more as just one of the O'Shannon boys. At first it was a great adventure and then she became used to it. Grown-out of dresses were not replaced and she became her father's right hand man. The fact that she obviously had the gift of the horse like Sean and her father made her valuable. When they heard of Liam and Andrew's deaths, her mother just gave up. Losing the boys was too much for her mother, she couldn't live for her loving husband or her lonely daughter. She left Alanna with a suddenly grieving, bitter man who resented his daughter for being alive and his wife for being dead. He only stayed alive to wait for his eldest son, Michael to come home before joining his wife in the grave.

Michael was crippled physically and mentally by the war. He looked with jealousy on his sister. He was the oldest, yet it was his brother Sean and his little sister who had the gift of the horse. He could stand it when it was Sean, but to have something so useful, so powerful wasted on a female was a crime. It suited him to forget Alanna and refer her as Jamie for making money. Money he could use to drink, to gamble. All too soon, the once prosperous horse farm was owned by the bank and the two of them on the road to fend for themselves. The more Michael drank, the more he hated himself. The more he hated himself, the more he hated her.´He would swear to stop, to not hit her again, but it kept happening. She bit her knuckles, this time she had known that if she was going to live, it meant leaving her brother and making a life for herself. For a young woman of twenty she was remarkably sheltered from the ways of the world. She sent a silent prayer to the angels for finding the Barkley's. The question was how long would she be able to keep her secret? In sudden horror, she realized that she would have to leave and leave soon. She still owed Heath $75 for Rosebud, could she hold her deceit for three more months?

Despite her intentions of not sleeping, she was sound asleep when Heath came quietly into the room. He and his brother's had enjoyed a few drinks with Joe Cartwright and had even neatly helped the young man when he got himself into a little fight. Boy Howdy, no wonder Cartwright's family was reluctant to let him come alone. Trouble just seemed to follow the young man.

He glanced over at the sleeping boy. He was curled up on one side, cheek pillowed by a fist. His long lashes rested on a smooth round cheek, just like sweet sleeping child or young woman. He shook his head, Boy Howdy, he had been out on the trail too long.

*****

Despite her initial feelings of misgiving, Alameda proved to be the best time in Jamie's life. They soon fell into a smooth partnership with her and Heath scouting and spotting the most promising animals while Jarrod and Nick handled the dickering and buying. Jamie found to her everlasting delight to be included in the exclusive company of the men in the evenings. Her brothers had always included her in their lives, so she had thought, but even Michael had never taken her drinking or gambling, or to watch some scantily clad women dancing something that enthused the men to no end, but she couldn't figure what was so special about showing so much leg. They were often joined by Joe Cartwright and some of the other acquaintances of the Barkleys. She even got two quiet job proposals, offering a hefty amount of money to work for them. She politely refused.

And yet, her warmest memories would be of sitting with Victoria Barkley over a cup of tea in the early evenings before being dragged out for a 'walk' with the men. They would talk of the horse trading, the people Victoria knew, and occasionally about family. It was hard not to trust this small, but forceful woman. One raised eyebrow, and her three grown sons had the look of little boys with hands caught in a cookie jar.

"How do ye do it ma'am?" Jamie made bold to ask and bit daintily into a sugar cookie.

"Do what?" Victoria smiled over her cup of tea. None of her boys would be caught dead having tea with her, except Jarrod on occasion and even he found the niceties trying. Audra and Belle were firmly ensconced in San Francisco shopping the stores dry. They wouldn't be joining them until the last day of the auction.

"Get Ni- ah Mr.Barkley, the boss, to listen to ye? " Jamie could almost bite her tongue, and instead shoved another cookie into her mouth.

"Years of practice, I started out with him small." Victoria said with a straight face.

"Ummff." Jamie replied with her mouth full of cookie.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear." Victoria said automatically.

"Yes, Mum." Jamie replied automatically and then blushed. O dhu, now she'd done it.

Victoria Barkley put her head back and laughed heartily. "Oh my, I guess mothers don't change one to the other, do they? How did your mother manage with you?"

"Well Mrs.Barkley, ma'am, me mother had red hair ye see." She paused to take a sip of tea. "And so did all me brothers, except Michael and me of course."

Victoria smiled over her cup of tea her twinkling eyes met Jamie's and they both laughed, understanding one another completely.

Victoria trusted that her sons would not be leading this nice young man too far down the path of dissolution. Unfortunately, she didn't count on them being in the company of Little Joe Cartwright.

Jamie and Heath were holding up a wall at one of the more formal receptions being held at the Stockman's club. A place that boasted having never entertained a female in its existence. That fact alone amused Jamie to no end and the fact that they had a very, very good brand of whiskey on offer. She expected Jarrod to look good in a suit, matter of fact it was more surprising to see him in work clothes. Heath looked good in anything and wore the suit as if it was his old blue shirt and a pair of work jeans. Nick, was more of a surprise, his hair was slicked back and the neatly knotted string tie and white shirt made him look almost as debonair as his brother, Jarrod. He had a cigar in his mouth and was chatting to an intrigued audience of fellow ranchers. Even though he was younger than most of the men he was talking to, they listened. It wasn't just that he was a Barkley, he was Nick Barkley, the very capable head of one California's largest holdings. Jamie looked at him in awe. They were listening to her boss! Her Nick. She suddenly felt that she had been silly and petty to fight with Nick and Heath over such little things she thought important. She silently vowed to be an obedient, useful, ranch hand for them. Well, as much as they agreed with her on horse business.

"Hey! You two holding up that wall?" Joe Cartwright grinned at the two.

"Yep." Heath said laconically. "My brother's are handling the important folk. Me and Jamie gotta hold up the wall." He grinned at Jamie and nudged her with his elbow.

"Can't let the wall fall down." Jamie said seriously. "Iffen we do, then there would be a stampede of women waitin' to get in and all these men would die of the apoplexy."

Joe Cartwright threw back his head and laughed. He had the kind of laugh that cut through the serious talk in the room like a knife. All three of them were given looks of 'Who let the riff-raff in?' Jarrod looked over at the little potential group of trouble and began to walk over.

"Hey," Joe tugged at Heath's sleeve, "I hear that there's a guy with a horse that can't be rid. He's offering $100 to anyone who can stay on him for more than five minutes."

"And how much does it cost to try your luck?" Heath asked dryly. He had heard of this scam before.

"Just $10."

"Cartwright." Jarrod nodded to the young man. "Ah Heath, Mr. Johnson is interested in our bay mare, if you would come and talk to him?"

"Sure Jarrod." Heath turned to say something to the two innocent looking young men, but then shrugged and followed Jarrod. Surely, they were both smart enough not to believe the horse could be rid?

"Look, it is a sure thing. You can go and do your horse thing with the horse and we win $100" Little Joe said persuasively.

"What d'ye mean we, if it is me riding the fearsome crayture?" Jamie raised a dark eyebrow.

"I pay for the entrance fee and, and well, I'll hold your hat." Joe said and grinned. "C'mon. We can at least go and watch other people eat dirt. This is really dull, all they ever do is talk politics and mourn the good old days."

"Aye, yer right there." Jamie agreed. "Let me just let the boss know I'm escaping." She caught Nick's eye over the crowd and nodded towards the door. He nodded automatically back noticing that Joe Cartwright was leaving too. Much as he enjoyed talking shop, these old boys once they had a few drinks under their belts only talked about politics and mourned the good old days. He would much prefer to go out and raise a little ruckus.

Jamie was more than interested in the money. Even splitting the winnings with Little Joe would give her $50 to pay Heath for Buddy and payday was in two weeks again - Buddy would be hers! And then she could leave, if she wanted to, or worse yet, had to.

Joe Cartwright led through the bustling streets of Alameda to a rather noisome area near the docks. The class of people were a bit shadier and more lowlife. Jamie moved a little closer to Little Joe, at least he was wearing a gun, affording them some protection. By the time they got to the small corral that was encircled by torches and shouting, yelling masses, she was ready to turn around and go back to the safety of the hotel room and the Barkleys.