Applegate Valley, 1866

            “There’s an awful lot of birds circling over yonder, Jeb,” Boone Fowler said, nodding his head towards a small grass covered rise off in the distance. “What do ya’ll think they’re waiting on?”

            Jeb McCain pushed his cowboy hat back and shielded his eyes with his hand. He stared out over the empty prairie ground between him and the small earthen rise where the birds circled. They were scavenger birds, meant something was either dead or dying.

            “I don’t rightly know, Boone, but whatever it is it’s either dead or dying. Suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a gander. Might be one of our lost heifers.”

            Boone nodded. Jeb clicked his tongue and nudged his horse to head towards the rise. It was pretty easy going, the rise made mostly of grass and weeds. Even the slope of the hill was easy to traverse, his chestnut palomino walking right up until they reached the top of the rise.

            Jeb pulled his horse to a stop and looked out over the small ravine below. It was a little rockier than the side he and Boone had just ridden up. Jeb guessed it was a winter creek bed. They were far enough into the spring that they should be out of danger of a flash flood.

            “Ya’ll see anything, Jeb?” Boone asked bringing his horse up next to Jeb’s.

            “Them birds seem mighty interested in that little rocky area just south of that large boulder.” Jeb pointed to a large boulder about the size of a good water barrel. He still couldn’t see anything that might interest the damn birds though.

            He stood up in the leather stirrups to get a better look. Jeb thought he caught the site of something but then it was gone. He sat back down and clicked his tongue again at his horse. “Come on, Boone, we ain’t gonna to see anything from way up here.”

            Jeb and Boone carefully made their way down the side of the small rise until they reached the bottom. Jeb paused long enough to insure that his colt revolver was full, nodding when he spotted Boone doing the same. A person can never be too careful.

            Jeb figured they were not more than fifty feet from whatever the birds were circling. He climbed down from his horse and looped the reins over the saddle horn. He held his finger up to his lips telling Boone to keep silent.

Jeb was lucky enough to have a horse that was well trained. He didn’t need to tie him off to keep him from running. Ponyboy wouldn’t run, not even if there was gunfire. He wouldn’t run until Jeb told him to and then he’d run all out.

Even though he was being extremely quiet, Jeb could hear Boone coming up behind him. Jeb motioned to Boone to stay where he was while he moved around to the side of where they were heading.

If there was indeed something there, Jeb didn’t want to be caught in any possible crossfire. Besides, if he moved up the rise a bit he could flank whatever the birds were after. Once Boone had nodded, Jeb moved.

Reaching a small pile of river rocks, Jeb squatted down behind them and pulled his gun. He nodded over to Boone, signaling that Boone could move forward. Jeb would keep him covered from his vantage point.

Time ticked by slowly as Boone cautiously made his way through the small ravine. Jeb could see him glance up then move around a small bend in the natural path of the creek bed. There was a lot of prairie grass and weeds between Jeb and Boone but not so much that Jeb couldn’t see Boone’s mouth drop open in shock.

“It’s a young man, Jeb” Boone said quietly but Jeb heard him anyway. He sounded perplexed. “He’s dressed in a lady’s corset.”