The next week brought another fine stretch of weather to Roaring Rapids Ranch, and with it came the kind of excitement ranch folks carried quietly in their hearts all day long.
A barn dance was planned that Saturday night at the Sattlers, and about half the hands from the Roaring Rapids Ranch were excited to attend, while the others preferred to put out trout lines for fresh fish or read quietly in the bunkhouse.
A barn dance was not just for fun, but for fellowship: neighbors gathering, children laughing, old friends catching up, and one ranch after another trying to outdo the dance of the week before.
Colt Barnes had taken Mary to the Sattler’s Rocking S Ranch right after lunch so she could help the other ladies bake, clean, talk about each other’s children, their problems or those of a nearby neighbor. Colt helped the men set up benches and build the make-shift stage that he had loaded onto his buckboard that he knew would be strong enough for the guitar and fiddle players. Since being named Range Boss, he carried himself with a steadier kind of weight and felt like he could take part in helping his neighbors. He wanted them to know that the ranch and he could be counted on when needed.
After a few hours, Mary stepped out of the house with a tray of fresh lemonade. “Don’t you boys wear yourselves out before the music even starts,” she said, smiling.
Colt tipped his hat. “Yes ma’am.” Everyone appreciated the break as the afternoon had gotten warmer.
It seemed like the more dances, the sooner the cowboys and the ladies came dressed in their finest. Even some of the townsfolk came, preferring a barn dance to the entertainment offered in town.
Colt stood near the doorway for a time, not dancing yet, just watching.
Range Boss habits.
Jake noticed and stepped beside him. “You’re guardin’ the place like a sheriff.”
Colt’s beard twitched with a faint grin. “Ain’t guardin’. Just… mindin’. Big gatherings draw all kinds.”
Jake’s smile faded slightly. “True enough.”
The night was rolling along fine when the strangers arrived. Two men, rough-looking, dust-covered, hats pulled low. They weren’t from any ranch nearby or Caldwell Crossing. Folks didn’t recognize them, and that alone changed the air.
They stepped into the lantern glow like coyotes wandering too close to a fire. Boone lifted his head at once, ears alert. Colt straightened. The men didn’t greet anyone. Didn’t smile. They just looked around, slow and measuring. One of them spat into the dirt.
Jake murmured, “You know ‘em?” Colt shook his head. “No. But I know trouble when it walks in wearin’ boots.”
Mary passed nearby and sensed it too. Her smile tightened, though she kept moving, calm as ever. Colt stepped forward before the strangers could push deeper into the barn. Even polite authority has a way of stopping a man.
“Evenin’,” Colt said.
The taller stranger looked him up and down. “Evenin’.”
Colt’s voice stayed level. “You fellas lookin’ for someone?”
The other man smirked. “Maybe we’re lookin’ for a dance.”
Colt nodded once. “Plenty of dancin’ inside. But this here is Sattler’s Ranch. Folks come as friends.”
The tall one chuckled. “And if we ain’t friends?”
Jake’s hand tensed at his side, but Colt lifted one finger slightly — a silent signal to stay steady. Colt didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t threaten. He simply stood like a fence post in solid ground. “Then you still get treated polite,” Colt said. “But you mind your manners. No drinkin’ trouble. No harassin’ ladies. No startin’ fights.”
The shorter man took a step forward. “Or what?”
Colt’s eyes stayed calm. “Or you’ll be asked to leave,” he said.
The tall stranger laughed, loud enough for a few dancers to pause. “Asked?”
Colt nodded. “Yes sir. Asked first.”
A few of Sattler’s ranch hands drifted closer, quiet as shadows. Not threatening. Just present.
The strangers looked around and realized something. This wasn’t a saloon full of drifters.
These ranchers and their friends from town were one big family. The tall man’s grin faltered. He tipped his hat slightly. “Reckon we don’t want no trouble.”
Colt nodded. “Good. Then come enjoy the music. Or head on down the road. Either way, peace stays here tonight.” A long moment passed.
Then the shorter man muttered, “Ain’t worth it.” The two strangers turned and walked back into the darkness. Colt listened ‘til he heard them ride away. Boone gave one low bark, like a final warning.
The music started up again slowly, like a creek finding its flow after a stone is lifted. Mary exhaled softly as she passed Colt. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Colt tipped his hat. “Just doin’ my duty.”
Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “Range Boss handled that the right way.”
Sattler came up and put out his hand, eyes beaming. “That’s how a man keeps order,” he said. “Not with fists first, but with courage and calm.”
Colt watched the lanterns sway above the dancers. Sattler came up and introduced his daughter, Alice, to him. Colt offered his hand and they stepped out onto the floor.
“Well,” she teased, “you finally gonna’ dance. I was hoping you wouldn’t stand guard all night long?” Colt smiled, warm and genuine. “I reckon,” he said, “peace has been settled.”
The Sattlers and their friends danced on past midnight safe, joyful, and strong together. And as he and Mary were about to drive away, the last words Colt heard were from Alice, “If you come back tomorrow to pick up that dance floor, I’ll fix you some fresh lemonade!”
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