1875  (Sherman Ranch and Relay Station, Laramie, Wyoming Territory) 

Jess removed his dusty hat and slapped it against his thigh as he headed from the barn towards the house. He had had a long day. He was tired and hungry. Wincing softly as he thought over all he had done and all he still needed to accomplish before tomorrow, he wondered, and not for the first time lately, if he had indeed made the right decision.

The fence had been mended, the stagecoach teamed, changed and repaired. The barn, stacked and the horses groomed and fed. Herd had been rounded and pastured. He'd managed to get to the neighbor's and lend a hand in repairing a gaping hole in their barn roof that had been caused by a recent storm. All this and still so much to do. He stopped at the pump and filled the wash bucket with cold fresh water and began to clean himself of the dirt of the day. As he leaned down and filled his hands with the clear refreshing water he smoothed it over his face, pausing to let the coolness seep into his eyes. But today it afforded no comfort. All he wanted was sleep. Sleep for his body. Sleep to escape the wanderlust that was torturing him. Sleep to escape the ever-growing resentment.

He stood and heaved a heavy sigh as he walked a little slower than usual toward the house. Upon entering he looked at no one, said not a word, went to the table and sat.

Noting that he was, once again, not eating much, Daisy mentioned that perhaps the ranch was getting to be too much for one man to handle. A change had come over Jess recently that she could not help but notice. He was brooding and sullen and she used caution as she continued. "When Slim comes home tomorrow, why don't you have a talk with him about hiring on some extra help? He has been gone so much lately that perhaps he just doesn't know how difficult things are now that the ranch is getting so much bigger."

Jess looked up at her and twisted his mouth sideways exhibiting a hint of annoyance. "Yeah, I'm gonna talk to him all right. He is gone all the time now. I feel like I am doin' all the work around here while he's off to God knows where buyin' more stock! Seems to me he should know how hard it is. It was hard when there were two of us and the herd was smaller."

Daisy tried to offer some reassurance. "Well, Mike is here and he's been trying to-"

"Mike?! Mike is just another chore for me ta do. He's just a kid. What can he do?" Jess stood, kicked back his chair and took his plate to the basin in the kitchen. He thrust the plate into the water and walked to his room without so much as a glance or a kind word for the woman.

Standing alone in the small room staring at Jess' door, Daisy smoothed her hair and let her hand settle upon her cheek. After a moment of pensive thought, she threw back her shoulders and cleared away the rest of the food from the table. She did not notice as the door to Mike's room slowly closed.

Inside the little room, Mike sat on his bed stroking one of his critters. His chin quivered and he drew his forearm across his face wiping tiny tears that fell from his eyes as Jess' words played over and over in his mind like a nickelodeon. Just  a kid.  A chore. A chore... a chore... a chore...  Jess was his idol and Slim, his hero; how could he let himself be a burden to them? Mike held the squirrel up to his face and confided his plan to the small creature. "Well, I ain't gonna be nobody's chore. I know what to do so's I can be a help around here. Ain't gonna give Jess and Slim no reason to send me off like they done Andy. Jess and Slim need me and I'm gonna show 'em that I can do it."

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Daisy waved enthusiastically and called for Mike as the morning stage pulled in with Jess riding at a lope behind it. Mike came racing from the barn to meet her as she came around the side of the house from where she had been hanging the laundry and they both hurried across the yard as Mose slowed the horses to a gentle stop. As the dust settled around the hooves of the horses and the bases of the wooden wheels, the door swung open. A fatigued and weary Slim Sherman disembarked from the stage and relished the welcoming embrace of his family. Daisy was the first to reach him.

"Oh, Daisy, it sure is good to be home." He lifted her and twirled her around as was his way and made her giggle when he kissed her on her forehead before putting her down. Turning toward Mike with open arms, he tousled his hair as the boy hugged him around the waist. "How ya doin', Tiger?!  Say, have you been growin' while I been gone?!

Mike beamed at the idea that Slim would notice he'd been growin'. Never mind that Slim always greeted Mike with those same words.

"Hey, how about me? Have I been growin?" Jess walked toward Slim and offered his hand. He tried to smile but all he had to show for it was a slight lift at the side of his mouth.

As the two men reached each other and clasped hands, Slim tapped his left hand on Jess shoulder. "Jess. Jess, it sure is good ta see ya, Pard."

Patience was not forthcoming for Jess, though he was trying. All he could think about was the talk he had been waiting to have with Slim.

Taken aback by Jess' expression, or lack of one, Slim hesitated, then smiled and repeated himself. "It sure is good ta see ya, Pard." He clapped Jess on the back and turned towards Daisy who nestled into his outstretched arm as Mike dutifully took his place next to Jess and the four of them headed towards the house.

Mose had been enjoying the little family's reunion so much that he almost let them wander into the house. "HEY! Ain't you gonna change the horses? I got a stage to move, ya know!"

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Slim could not remember when he had enjoyed Daisy's cooking so much. He ate until he was downright uncomfortable. Mike had left shortly after Slim's arrival and had not returned for breakfast. Although Slim reassured Daisy that he would have a talk with their young friend, he was secretly glad that there had been more ham and eggs for him. He had missed his home and his family. This trip to Denver had been a long one and it had taken its toll on him as much as it had them. Unbeknownst to any of them, he had made a resolution not to leave again for a long time. He did not like that Mike had grown so much that it showed, and he did not like missing Daisy's cooking. Being deprived of the comforts and pleasures of his home made Slim appreciate the life he'd carved out for himself at the Sherman Ranch more than he had been appreciating things before he left. And the guilt he felt for having left Jess with so much work and the brunt of the responsibility of running their ever-growing interests was gnawing at him. He knew that Jess would never complain but he also knew that it was Jess who had the idea to buy the longhorns in the first place.

Yes, he was glad to be home and after he recovered from the laziness inspired by the bulk of the meal he had just consumed, he got right to his paperwork. As anxious as he was to get through with his documentation, he could see that Jess had something on his mind and he also noticed that Daisy and Jess had shared a silent exchange. Slim sat back in his chair and listened intently when Jess, interrupted him to present his prepared and practiced points about the workload of the ranch. He agreed with Jess' keen observations and was somewhat amused by his bona fide demands. He never let on that he had already decided to hire additional hands and Jess puffed up at the idea that he had so adequately pled his case. They could hear Daisy singing in the kitchen as they brought their meeting to a close and agreed to hire on some help at least until the cattle went to market and the horses to the Cavalry. This had been their best year and the idea that the Sherman Ranch was prosperous enough to need help was one that pleased them both.

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Mike had awakened at sunup with plans of his own. After he had greeted Slim and made his excuses, he had stolen away to town on the back of the morning stage and was bound for a visit to the ladies hotel. He did not know what happened in there but Jess had once told him that is where they separate the men from the boys and he was determined to have the man part of him separated from the boy part so he would at last be more worth-while than worth-less around the ranch.

He leapt off the stage as it approached the livery and sneaked into the alley alongside the hotel. No one was there. As he continued to about half its length, he was stunned to find himself entering a beautiful courtyard. It had been lovingly transformed into a flower garden and Mike could not help but glide his fingers over the soft colorful petals and gracefully organized tufts. He had never seen anything like it. Amongst the greenery there were colors of white and pink, red and yellow, and purple. The scent-laden flora assailed his nostrils so that he nearly forgot why he was there. There was one flower, with a round base and a flared end that had a most unusual whiff. He forgot what Miss Daisy called these flowers... As he leaned in closer to it, he closed his fingers around its stem and was pricked by a rather large thorn. Instinctively, he jerked his hand back and drew his wounded finger to his lips.

As he shook out the throbbing digit, he happened to raise his eyes and was reminded of his mission. He saw his mark: a window just above him, but no matter how he jumped and stretched, he could not gain enough altitude to see inside. Turning frantically to his left and then his right, he spotted a rain barrel at the end of the building. What luck; it was nearly empty. He waited until the street was free of passersby, and then carefully turned it on its side and rolled it into the alley. Positioning it just beneath the window, he then made sure it was steady and stepped up, thrilled that he was about to achieve the elusive peek inside.

He had been so intent on getting everything just right that he did not notice Jess' and Slim's friend, Miss Marcia, as she exited the building from the side door and stopped to watch him. Marcia shook her head; she had seen this before, teenaged boys wanting to catch a thrill. She walked up quietly and circled Mike with her hands on her hips. The sound of her voice startled him. "Well, well, what have we here? You're a little younger than the usual, ain'tcha? Just what do you think you are doin' there, Son?"

Mike tried to run away but Marcia had figured on that; she caught him by his sleeve and sat him down. As she got a better look at him, she squinted and turned her head sideways. "Ain't you young Mike from the Sherman place?"

Embarrassed at having so easily been caught and disappointed that his plan had been thwarted, Mike lowered his head and fixed his eyes on the ground. "Yes, Ma'am." He paused, and then raised his eyes to look up at her and the two regarded each other.

Mike had been carefully sheltered from the likes of women like Marcia and he was mesmerized by her. Her curly red hair and fiery green eyes captured his young heart almost at once. She smelled of Lemon Verbena and her hair was piled high on her head with three loose ringlet curls that hung on either side perfectly framing her face and her skin was as smooth and pale as porcelain. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke and she was wearing rouge on her lips. She must have taken a long time to prepare herself to come out and walk about town and Mike figured she must have owned a looking glass.

He wondered, on second thought, as his eyes continued their downward journey if he had made the proper assessment, about the looking glass, that is. Surely she had borrowed someone else's clothes and surely she did not realize how ill fitted they were, even if they were the finest he had ever seen. Two things were obvious; the true owner of the stylish green dress must have been a very wealthy woman, and she must have been a much smaller woman than Miss Marcia. Why, the dress wasn't even closed properly at the top and was revealing more of Miss Marcia's upper portions than Mike had ever seen before. What's more, it was drawn so tightly that if he cared to stare, he could trace the outlines of the stays in her corset. Her hands placed on her hips like they were, drew his gaze to the smallness of her waist and he wondered, as boys do, how she could stand upright -  bein' so top heavy and all. As his eyes finally made their way to her shoes, he was filled with pity and embarrassment for the beautiful woman. Poor Miss Marcia; her ankles were showing. Surely she would never have ventured out in public if'n she knew. He determined that she had probably not had a looking glass after all.

Marcia was dong some sizing up of her own. She'd seen this young man in town with Miss Daisy who Marcia knew to be a kind woman. Slim and Jess had always treated Marcia fairly; Slim had managed to save her from a scrape or two, and she knew Jess to be downright generous. There would be no need to be too hard on the boy.

Marcia continued her interrogation and as Mike answered her questions, one by one, she began to unravel the puzzle of his intent. Amused by his wherewithal, she invited him to join her at the soda fountain and share a sarsaparilla. Being no fool, he heartily accepted. As the two sat, unconcerned, in the Apothecary Shop, in broad daylight, Mike felt a sense of trust towards this kind woman and shared with her the plain facts of his quandary.

Marcia found it very touching that this warm hearted young man would confide in her; she was not used to being treated with respect. After listening intently to his entire story, she offered some words of wisdom. "Mike, my sweet young friend, Ah will tell you somethin' about this life. Ya got ta hold on fast ta whut ya got in front of ya. Don't go wastin' yer time on no foolish butter dreams. Listen to me, Boy, stick with the here and now and tomorrow will take care of itself. You will be old enough, soon enough. Hear?"

"Sure, Miss Marcia," Mike answered flippantly. He was far more concerned about finishing the last bit of his drink than offering proper focus to anything she was saying to him. He picked up the glass and placing it to his lips, he turned it upside down, tilting his head way back and deliberately tapped the bottom of the upturned vessel as he patiently waited for the last drip of the fragrant syrup to reach his lips. He released a sigh of great satisfaction as he placed the glass back in its circular ring on the table. As he sat back in his seat and unconsciously wiped his mouth with his sleeve, he had an afterthought. "Hey, what's a butter dream anyway?"

"Well, Ah cain't rightly say I know, but the way Ah figure it, a butter dream is kind of like, well, it is kind of like the dreams we have when we are children, like yourself. We dream of all the wonderful things life will bring us and sometimes we get so excited to have 'em that we reach for them before their time and when we do that, well they slip right through our hands - like they was covered in butter. Do you understand whut Ah am tryin' ta say to ya?"

"Yes Ma'am," Mike answered, wide-eyed at her dissertation. "I think I do. You are tellin' me to be a kid because that is what I am. Because even if I try to be all growed up, I ain't; so it cain't be real."

Marcia smiled at the astute comprehension of her unwitting student of philosophy and, winking at the young man, bid him, "Go on home, Son, and don't worry; Ah won't tell yer uncles that Ah saw you here. Ah'll leave that up to you."

"Do I have to tell 'em?"

"Not if'n ya don't wunt to, but Ah would consider the fact that half the town is already a-talkin' about you and me havin' a soda tegethur. Might do ya good to tell 'em before ever'body else duz, but that is jest mah opinion, nuthin more. Like Ah said, it is up to you entirely."

"Oh." Mike nodded his understanding. Miss Marcia sure did have a way of explaining things. He smiled at her and, after thanking her for the sarsaparilla turned to leave. It was clear what he had to do.

As he began to make his way down the boardwalk, Marcia stood watching him. She was a little surprised at the sense of warmth she was feeling. She felt the need to tell him something more, reassure him somehow that everything would be all right. Raising her hand as though to reach for him, she called out. "Young Mike?"

"Yes, Miss Marcia?"

"You understand some things better than some folks who are very grown up, if'n you ask me."

"I DO?" Mike stood tall. "Oh yes, Ma'am! Thank you, Ma'am!" He was beaming. "Good day, Miss Marcia."

His smile, just then, was the finest thing she had ever seen. Marcia was sure that this was a moment she would recall for a very long time.

Mike headed for the stage depot hoping he had not missed his chance for a ride back to the ranch. Luckily, he arrived just as Mose was urging the horses onward.

"Hop on, Mike," Mose hollered out with a good-natured bellow and his ever-present smile.

Mike waved up at the man as he grabbed the rack and hoisted himself onto the back of the moving stage. For a moment he gave thought to his good fortune at catching the ride but from then on he was immersed in more contemplation and deduction over Miss Marcia and her theoretical orations than he had ever become whilst reasoning over his schoolwork. Before he knew it, the stage was pulling into the relay station and Mike was face to face with the dubious ordeal of dealing with Slim, Jess and a very worried Daisy.

He jumped off the stage, sashayed up to the three puzzled adults and made his statement."I can see you were all wondering where I was. Suppose I shoulda told ya I had me some business to take care of. Well, I am right sorry if I worried ya, Aunt Daisy. That was not nice of me at all, no sir, and I guarantee it will not happen again. But I am jest fine - had some business in town, is all." Without hesitating any longer, he pulled up his britches and sauntered past them and into the house, swinging his arms the way he had seen Slim do after dinner when he was full to burstin'.

Daisy stood speechless, her eyebrows raised and her mouth open, looking first to Slim and then to Jess, as she pointed at Mike.

"He had some business to take care of." Jess mimicked.

"He guarantees it will not happen again." Slim looked reassuringly at Daisy, who by now had flapped her apron at the both of them in mock disgust.

Jess threw a playful punch at his partner who reciprocated and they walked back to the corral, snickering and poking fun at Mike's unbeknownst expense.

Daisy smiled and shook her head as she turned toward the house. Then she stopped and shooed the chickens away from her feet assuring them confidently, "Mike has promised it will not happen again. Oh, come here. I may as well feed you myself. A person can't get a thing done around here without somebody beggin' for food." She picked up the bucket and grabbed a handful of feed. "Here you go. Yes, yes I know, you're starvin'." She playfully rolled her eyes and continued to smile as she completed Mike's chore for him.

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Jess waved from the corral as he saw Daisy emerge from the house with her hand across her brow to shield her eyes from the unusual brightness of the setting sun. "Supper ready, Daisy?"

"Yes it is, Jess. Go on, get Mike and Slim and wash up before it all gets cold. I will have everything on the table when you come in."

 Jess' smile spread wide across his face. "That's the best news I heard all day!"

"Oh, Jess!" Daisy giggled as she waved both her hands at him. Those boys of hers did have a way of showing their appreciation for her and she loved the satisfaction that caring for them brought to her.

Slim entered the house and sat down at the table with a quick nod to Jess as he pointed at the bread. "So, Mike, can you tell us what kind of business you had in town that was so all fired urgent that you had to leave as soon as I got home without letting any of us know where you were goin?"

Jess winked at Slim as he handed over the bread plate and took his turn in continuing the inquisition. "Yeah, Mike, what business did you have in town? We all want to know. Been waitin' all afternoon to find out.  Uh, Daisy, could you pass the bread back this way?"

"Sure Jess. Slim, would you like some bread? Mike?"

Mike reached for the plate. "Slim already has bread. Well ain't much to tell. I just had me something to work out. Ya know. I had some thinking ta do."

"Thinking." Slim froze in place, his eyes fixed on Mike.

"Yes, Sir, Slim, some important thinking. This squirrel stew sure is good Aunt Daisy, and it is just what I had a hankerin' fer too."

Jess' eyes sparkled as he smiled and reached out to pat her hand. "Ummm, Daisy, it sure is. I had a hankerin' too."

She nodded as she chewed and patted his hand in kind. Swallowing her food, she stood and offered to refresh Mike's cup of milk.

"Reckon I will have some more, Aunt Daisy," Mike answered enthusiastically as he held up his nearly empty cup. "I ain't big enough fer nothing stronger yet; I am just a kid and that is a fact. I was wantin' to be growed up to help around here more but I cain't be until I am and that is a fact too. Right Slim?"

"Uh..." Slim raised his fork as though to say something but he had gotten lost on Mike's exposition long before he heard the question.

The others sat quietly staring at Slim, fearfully anticipating that Mike would turn his attention on them.

It was Jess who laughed first. Daisy joined in and then Slim. "Mike, what are you talking about?!" Slim could not help himself. By now the little family was lost in gales of laughter.

"Ah, forget it," Mike smiled as Slim reached out to muss his hair. "All that is, is a silly ol' butter dream any how." He laughed just as loud as his elders and playfully slapped Slim across the back.

No one noticed that Jess had stopped laughing.

Jess' voice was barely audible. "Where did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Mike continued to laugh and cavort with Slim.

"Butter dreams. Butter dreams! Where did you hear it?"

"In town." Mike nonchalantly reached across the table for more bread.

"Quit fooling around with me, Boy, and tell me where you heard that." The sternness in Jess' voice bewildered Slim and Daisy but Mike figured it meant that Jess knew exactly where he had heard it. He stopped chewing and stared at Jess. It was not his intention to be disobedient; he simply did not know what to say. He was sure he would be in trouble for speaking to Miss Marcia though he did not fully understand why. Some people were to be avoided and she was one of them. That was just the way it was. He chewed down once and shifted his gaze from Jess to Slim and back to Jess.

Slim had nodded reassuringly signifying he should answer but before he could say a word, Jess lunged from his seat, grabbed the youngster by his shoulders and lifted him from his chair with a passionate demand. "Tell me, Mike; tell me RIGHT NOW! So help me, tell me or I'll--  He raised his arm threatening to back hand the boy. It was Mike's crying out that made Jess freeze in position.

In an instant, Slim had jumped up and placed himself between the angry man and the helpless boy. He placed his open palms on Jess' shoulders. "Jess! Jess, what's gotten into you! You gonna hit Mike, Jess? You gonna do that?"

Mike suddenly lost his nerve. Convinced he was in an insurmountable wad of trouble he was utterly afraid to say where he had heard it. Unable to move from the spot where Jess had let go of him, he stood there trembling in dumb silence. Jess responded in a whisper and then a decree.

"No. NO! I would never hurt Mike." He dropped his head slightly to the right so he could look at Mike, and then looked up at Slim indicating he could remove his hands. He took a slow shallow breath, rested the heel of his left hand in his right palm, then rubbed the left palm with his right thumb.  His tension was palpable as he settled his hands loosely at his thighs and stepped around the taller man toward the frightened child. A shaken Jess lowered himself on one knee and tried to apologize, but to no avail. When he reached to touch Mike, the boy turned and ran from the room. Jess bowed his head and rested his elbow on his knee.

Daisy who had been shocked by the sudden outburst and had kept quiet for all the goings on finally found her tongue and, although she loved him like a son, and knew in her heart of hearts that something must be terribly wrong for him to act the way he had, she furiously admonished Jess for frightening Mike like that. "Jess, I know that you are tired but, land sakes, Boy, what were you thinking? I can't believe what I have just seen with my own eyes. Jess, if you ever touch that boy, if you ever hit... I... well, I know I could never forgive you! Never!

Jess stood and stared blankly at her and then turned, casting the same blank eyes on Slim. It was almost as though Jess was the one who was searching for answers. He could not explain his actions to them; he could not understand them himself. After having stood there for a few seconds feeling lost, Jess turned away from them both, grabbed his hat and went outside to cool off.

He kicked his heel stirring up the dust as he walked aimlessly back and forth between the front door and the barn. Why, he wondered, after all this time, could hearing a simple phrase like that make me lose control?  He winced audibly as he considered the possibility that if Slim had not been there to intervene, he might have hurt Mike. I gotta get a hold of myself.  It's just words; Mike could'a heard them anywhere... But still-  He slapped his gloves against his thigh. Why would it be THAT phrase?  It was Cora Mae's.  She made it up!  The only conclusion he could fathom was that he had just witnessed the impossible.

Lost in his thoughts, Jess started walking up the hill and before he knew it, he was at the lake. He sat on a large flat-top bolder at the water's edge that had always been his favorite spot. He loved to come here in the heat of the day and lie in the sun. Oft times he would fish. But tonight, this place provided no comfort; instead its similarity to a place and a time gone by tore his heart out. He picked up a stone swung out his arm as though to skip it across the still water and then stopped, letting his arm drop to his side and the stone fall to the ground.

How was it possible that he could feel so much? How could it still be so painful? He drew his arms across his middle, lowered his head to his chest and began to rock back and forth. His desperation was as strong as it was when he first heard the news. The emptiness, just as overwhelming.

"Butter Dreams." He had not heard those words, in that combination, uttered by anyone else, not since that day, twelve years ago, when he stood by another lake, holding Cora Mae in his arms.