Introduction

"Jesse, wake up, boy. We've got to get this herd movin' if we want to make it to the next water," the teen's father said, shaking him from his sleep. Rubbing his eyes, Jesse got out of his bedroll, dreading the day coming up. Looking around, the boy could see the rest of the men getting ready for the long ride ahead of them.

Standing four inches over six feet tall, the young man towered over most of the other men on the drive. Adding to this, his blonde hair and blue eyes only served to make him a handsome young man. Unfortunately the teen was too shy to talk to a girl, let alone ask one to one of the many socials they held on Saturday nights in Laredo.

"Sorry, pa, I had a rough night," Jesse told the older man. Grabbing his saddle, the young Texan walked over to his hobbled horse and began saddling the paint gelding. As he began tightening the cinches around the horse's broad middle, he noticed the cracking in the broad strap. Making a mental note to repair it when they reached their next camp, the young man put it out of his mind, wanting to concentrate on the day ahead of him. Walking back to the fire, Jesse grabbed a cup of coffee, the strong brew warming him inside. Once he had finished, he dumped out the grounds from the worn coffee pot on the blaze and packed it into his saddlebags, and then walked back to the fire and extinguished the already dying flames, kicking dirt over the embers.

James White was proud of his eighteen-year-old son. He had raised the boy and his sister by himself after the Cheyenne uprising in 1874. Now, six years later, the gangly boy was turning into a man, one that would leave large footprints across the land.

"Come on boy, we're wasting daylight," James told his son, ready to begin the new day.

"Right behind you, pa. Remind me to fix the cinch on my saddle tonight, okay?" Jesse asked, not waiting for his answer as he climbed into the saddle on the spirited horse. Quickly getting his other leg into the stirrup, Jesse waited for the gelding's bucking which had become a morning ritual. Riding out the small crow hops, the young man and horse came to terms and headed out to the herd, taking right flank to help keep the lowing cattle in a bunch as they headed for Dodge City, Kansas.