Heath · Barkley

His time in Carterson had changed him, the boy who had joined the army pretending to be the man his age had yet to entitle him to had died behind the Confederate prison's wire fence. Now that the war had ended and the prison had been emptied, Heath found himself lost. The truth was, he'd seen too much to return to Strawberry. How was he supposed to go back to a town hardly more noticeable then spit in the road after all he'd been through, after all he'd seen? He had to find something else, maybe in a few months, maybe six, maybe a year, he could write, tell his mother, Hannah, and Rachel where he was, but, he wasn't ready to endure their scrutiny just yet.

Hitching his pants up he set off toward the saloon, only to stop as he saw the newly posted leaflet tacked on a post by the General Store.

Cowhands Wanted...hiring now at the Hotel.

Maybe this was what he was looking for, it wasn't like he hadn't pulled his own weight before, he'd been doing that since he was old enough to hold a broom. True, maybe he wasn't looking that strong, but, he hadn't asked for his time in Carterson, and now, all he wanted was to be rid of the place. The decision made he stepped off the wooden sidewalk and headed across the street and toward the hotel.

That there was already a line of men outside waiting to interview, with most looking as bad if not worse then he did said much for the availability of locals for the drive. As he took his place at the end, it shouldn't have surprised him that his thoughts drifted to all he'd been through over the past several months, and it was only a nudge from the man behind him that alerted him as the next group of men were allowed inside.

If he was going to land one of the spots he was going need to do some serious sweet-talking, same as he had when he'd joined up for the army. Course, first he'd have to convince them that he was old enough to do all he was going to tell them he could do, and from there, well, he could prove he could hold his own if they'd only give him a chance. Then it was too late to think much more on it, as his attention was brought back to the line when they called the group of men that included him in for interviews.

Later he'd be left to wonder if in fact his age had worked in his favor as he noticed most if not all of those vying for the jobs seemed to have come straight from Carterson Prison to the town. None of those being hired on were in much better condition then he was, and some were much worse, their length of captivity and whatever war wounds they'd suffered proving to be just one more factor being weighed as the foreman contemplated who made the final cut.

In the end, his age had been key, hard work and three solid meals a day would put the lost weight and muscle back on him, and what he didn't know could be taught. In the foreman's eye, any inexperience was much better then undoing the mistakes of someone else's bad habits. By nightfall he had a fresh change of clothes and he'd been outfitted with not just a horse but a gun as well, he could smell the coffee steeping and a stew bubbling on the campfire and he had a clean bedroll all to himself. He had to wonder if things could get any better then that.

Muse: Heath Barkley
Fandom: The Big Valley
Words: 626