Conagher

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Mule team.

There it is, Evie. There's our house.

Giddy up.

Whoa.

Come on, Laban, let's bring some water.

Pa, there's no floor. It's just dirt.

Well, the first cattle we sell, | we'll put in a board floor.

Goodnight.

I want to go home.

- You are home. | - I don't want to stay.

She'll be all right.

She just misses her mama.

You'll have the shotgun, Evie...

and enough supplies to last you | at least a month.

A month.

I shouldn't be gone much longer than that.

I've set aside $50. Use it if you need it.

Yes, Jacob.

I never promised you much, Evie...

and it isn't much.

But the land is ours.

And all that the land becomes | will be ours, too.

Bye, Ruth.

- You look after these women now, Son. | - Yes, sir, I will.

When I get back, | we'll be in the cattle business.

Whoa.

Come on, Ruth.

Heel, toe, and a one, two, three.

Give me your hands.

Giddy up.

Sorry, Ben.

Evie, what have I done to...

Somebody's coming!

Giddy up, there.

Whoa.

What in the Lord's name | are you folks doing here?

I'm Mrs. Jacob Teale, and this is Laban, | and this is Ruthie.

Ma'am.

This gent here is Beaver Sampson. | He's riding shotgun against Indians.

The gentleman getting down | from the coach is Tom Wildy.

He's the superintendent of the stage line...

Lord help him.

I'm Charlie McCloud.

We're taking the first stage through | to La Mesa.

Come in. You must be hungry.

We weren't expecting company, | but I'm sure we can find something.

Laban, get me an armful of wood.

You'll forgive our astonishment, | Mrs. Teale...

but we were told there was | no one living in this area at all.

Anyone tell you | this was Indian country, ma'am?

We haven't seen any, | but we've only gone for firewood.

We've stayed close to home.

Is Mr. Teale about?

No. He's gone to the settlements | to buy cattle.

Teale?

I haven't heard that name.

Not that I know everyone | that passes through...

but a man buying cattle, | you'd usually hear about such things.

Yes. Well, come in.

Your cabin is quite well built.

My husband built it himself.

- It took quite some time. | - I imagine so.

Mrs. Teale...

we'll be running somewhat | of a makeshift affair for a while...

and I wonder if you would consider | taking on the feeding of our passengers...

until we get our stations established?

You could make yourself, | as well as the company, a bit of money.

That's scarce, I presume.

Yes, I could do that.

- We would have to lay in supplies. | - Of course.

You'd be saving us a lot of trouble | and expense...

if you could handle this | until we get settled down.

You make up a list, and I'll have McCloud | bring it in on the next stage.

Sure.

How are you with horses, son?

Could you harness the teams for us | until your pa gets home?

Yes, sir. I hitched up and drove | when we came west from Missouri.

You'll be our hostler then.

- Will the stages come often? | - Not at first.

Two or three a week | and then every other day.

One going east and one going west.

It'll depend on the business.

Would you pass that jelly, please?

They'll be bringing the horses out | in about two weeks, Mrs. Teale.

We'll see that a load of feed for them | gets here before they do.

Thank you.

You keep a close look out | for Indians, ma'am.

They ain't been troublesome, lately...

but you never can tell | when they might start up again.

Never give them anything. | They take that as a sign of fear.

Make them trade. They cotton to that.

Thank you, Mr. McCloud. I will remember.

Thanks again for everything, Mrs. Teale.

Mrs. Teale...

if I happen to see your man, | I'll tell him you're all faring well.

- Thank you kindly. | - Ma'am.

Newt! Walken!

I think I'm gonna have to make | a bigger corral.

Go to the house!

Whoa.

- Howdy, hostler. | - Howdy, Mr. McCloud.

- Howdy, Mrs. Teale. | - Mr. McCloud.

Please come in.

Ma'am, this here is Kiowa Staples.

Looks like he run into something | in the dark.

It was a no-account saddle bum | named Conagher.

Yeah, I misjudged him.

Next time we meet...

it won't be our fists we'll be using.

Come on, Kiowa, | you brought it on yourself.

You pushed the gent too far.

Now, you think about it, | you won't blame him none.

I won't be blaming him none...

but I'll kill him.

Get ready, boy! | We're bringing in the horses!

Get in there!

- I hear you're the hostler here. | - Yes, sir.

Well, there's a stage coming through, | nigh onto noon, so you be set and ready.

- Any chance to get some grub? | - I'll ask Ma.

I'm Chris Mahler, son.

This galoot, here, sporting the remains | of a shiner, is Conn Conagher.

Steer clear of him, boy. | He's got a burr under his saddle.

Don't listen to him, son. | I'm a right peace-loving man.

Who gave you the black eye?

Nobody gave it to me, son. I fought for it.

Won't you gentlemen come in for a bite? | Food's ready.

I'll take that kindly, ma'am.

Come on, Conn. Let's eat and ride.

You build this corral all by yourself, son?

Yes, sir.

You did a good job.

Must have been a lot of fun | digging in this rocky ground, huh?

Yes, sir.

When you lay the roof on your shelter, | there...

you ought to try | overlapping them boards a little bit.

Start at the bottom | and set the next one a mite higher.

- Help the water run off better. | - Thanks.

Yes, sir. Let's eat.

Boy, I like that.

Nothing like a wide-open view.

Thank you, son.

Get back in there.

Your father will be very proud of you.

You've done a good bit of work | since he left.

No complaints, either.

I'm proud of you, too.

You know, I like that Mr. Conagher.

Yeah.

I don't know. | He seems different than the others.

Come in soon, Laban.

Hell of a thing, leaving a woman | and two kids out there all alone.

What do you figure?

Should we go on in?

We're getting paid for the job, ain't we?

We get out of here, | we'll get them in there by dark.

Who's there?

It's an apostle with an epistle.

Open up, you sod buster, and let a man in.

You all put your horses | in the stable over there...

then come on in. | I'll get the coffee on the fire. Come on in.

Reminds me of a cowpuncher | who went to wash his feet one spring...

and found he had two pairs of socks on | he didn't know he had.

What're you gonna do | when you pay off, Conagher?

Gonna get drunk?

Nope.

I'm gonna rustle me a job.

Someplace I can put my feet | under the table for the winter.

I'm for sleep. Where can I bed down?

Any place you can find.

Don't make me no never mind.

You'll just have to sleep on the floor, | but I don't care.

You've been holding out on us, | Mrs. Teale...

them's the first cookies | I've known you to make.

I didn't know you liked them, | Mr. McCloud.

- Sometimes I make fried cakes, too. | - You do?

Oh, Lordy.

You'll have to forgive us, ladies. | The place is rather primitive.

I'd better go see about the stock.

Mrs. Teale.

Thank you, ma'am.

But it's so desolate out here.

Yes.

But there's something here.

Come over here.

I miss the things that we had back east...

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