It was growing late in the afternoon when Shade and Warbow made the last turn onto the trail that led up the side of mountain that overlooked Lost Lake. The trail itself had been smoothed by years of use and careful maintenance. If the road became fouled then the people living at the top of the ridge in the ranch's main house would have a treacherous ride through forests and rugged terrain to make their way to the valley floor and out of the mountains. Add to that, many of them would not know the secret trails, the game paths, and which streams to follow to safety.

The setting sun turned the lake to blue fire as Shade guided them into the courtyard, relieved to see lights had been lit inside the massive old house as well as the lanterns in the courtyard itself. Dropping lightly off his horse's back to the cobbled stone ground, he kept a wary eye on his traveling companion as John Warbow dismounted a bit more slowly. Shade made a mental note to himself to insist that Warbow allow him to take him in to see the doctor. He really didn't think he'd win the argument with the stubborn Navajo man, but he had to try.

They tied up the horses, grabbed saddlebags and walked to the front doors. Shade knew the doors would be open, but grabbed the knocker and rapped hard a couple of times anyway.

"Quentin! Harriet! Anyone?!" Shade shouted as he entered the large foyer, "I'm home! Where is everyone?"

Quentin had been sitting in the large living room to one side of the fireplace. The overstuffed chair had become his favorite evening spot of late, where he could sit and relax...read or talk with Harriet about the events of the day. Currently he was quietly reading, the hardcover book in his lap when his reverie was interrupted by the sudden banging on the front door. Quentin was on his feet in a moment by reflex alone. His hand darted for one of his revolvers where he kept it on the table beside the chair and he threw the belt full of cartridges over his head to drape along his chest. He covered the distance to the doorway in a few steps even as he heard a voice that simply couldn't be. Quentin slowed at the door and took a glance around the frame. Seeing Shade standing in the foyer and another man he did not recognize. Happiness flooded through him as he stepped out into the hallway and walked toward both men.

"My God...Shade...Don't take this wrong, but I figured you were dead." Quentin said with a grin.

Shade returned the grin and gave the man a big bear-hug as a greeting while Warbow stood back and watched with a slight smile on his face. Stepping back, he said, "Yeah...well, don't take this wrong either...glad you're not dead. Heard it was a near miss a while back."

Quentin nodded, losing some of his good spirits for a moment. "Yeah...one Evergreen hand took a shot at me...he ended up dragging three other hands into trying to kill me when I came after him. Once the dust settled, three of them were dead and the kid that survived was wounded. The kid made it and hopefully something good can come from that whole mess..." Quentin's expression hardened for a short time before he gave a mental shake and smiled again. "But enough of that! Just another reason to hate the Steelgraves..." Quentin's eyes moved over to take in Warbow. "...And who is your friend?"

Shade frowned at the information Quentin shared on the shooting, "I was afraid it was going to come to shooting with the Steelgraves," he sighed, "Glad you're okay."

"Quentin, this is my uncle from my grandmother's clan," Shade said and gestured at Warbow who stepped forward.

Speaking in his quiet, deep voice, Warbow first inclined his head respectfully before meeting Quentin's eyes directly, "Quentin Cantrell, Shade has spoken of you with respect. My Diné name is Gaagii Kinyaa’áanii which means Raven of the Towering House People. My preferred Anglo name is Gaagii Wintersong. I was also named for Shade's father, John Caleb Thornton so most Bilagáana use that name, John Warbow."

Quentin's jaw dropped slightly as Warbow went through his name...when he finished, Quentin realized how he must look and closed his mouth. He then stuck out his hand to the other man. "A pleasure, John..." He glanced between the two men. "...So from what I just understood, are you two relations of some sort?"

"It's seriously complicated," Shade answered with a grin as the Navajo man took Quentin's hand. "Warbow is related through my grandmother's clan, the Towering House People. It is probably some sort of cousin. However, as he is older, Uncle is both an honorific and a catch-all for an older clan relative. We share blood and friendship."

Warbow smiled, "Shade offers a far better explanation than I could. It is a pleasure to meet you. I grieve for the loss of your sister. I only met Regina once when she came with Chance to visit the clan." He decided it would probably be best not to delve into the complex relationships formed by marriage.

Tags Longshot

Cantrell nodded. "Fair enough. I would think it would take an entire conversation to lay out just how this connection works, but it doesn't matter. You are family and that is enough."

Cantrell then inclined his head again. "Thank you for that. My sister was quite a woman and probably the only reason I am still alive to be of service now. I owe her a lot more than I could ever pay back." He then looked between the two men. "Are you gentlemen hungry or would you like something to drink? I imagine it's been a while since you both have had some good old fashioned home cooking."

"We stopped at the Lickskillet on our way in," Shade answered, "but that was a couple of hours ago." They had taken their time riding from the town to the ranch. Warbow had remarked more than once during their journey that he was amazed at how trim Shade stayed considering he always seemed to be hungry. "I could also use a drink. Just water for Warbow. Give us a few to wash the trail dust off."

Shade led Warbow off to a guest room then headed off to wash up himself. It was only a few minutes later that they were joining Quentin in the dining room. It took another few moments for Mary Miller, the housekeeper, to greet Shade and renew her acquaintance with Warbow before they could settle into chairs themselves. Shade was also anxious to see his little niece and nephew, but Mary said they were finishing up their school work before coming down for the evening meal.

"Harriet ever get back from Boston?" Shade asked Quentin after getting drinks for the three of them and sitting down.

Quentin took the glass from Shade and lightly tapped it with his as he settled into his chair. "Yes, she got back about a week ago. She's in town overnight, doing her Law Office business. The kids keep things lively, but the conversation has been a little sparse." Quentin took a long sip and breathed out slow as the alcohol burned down his throat. He then regarded both men. "Things are getting worse around here. I don't know how much you have heard about what the Steelgraves have been up to, but things are coming to a head, and fast."

"That's good. I'm glad that she got back," Shade answered and grinned, "Come on, now. Almost sounds like you missed us," he added. Shade shook his head, "Sounds like I brought Uncle out of the frying pan and into the fire. I heard a little news here and there. Got something of an update while I was at the Lickskillet. Still trying to make sense of some of what Miss Mudd was going on about."

Warbow waved one hand in a graceful dismissive gesture, "I am here to assist in whatever way that I can," he told them.

Quentin nodded at Warbow's words. "It's greatly appreciated, but we're going to need more than one gun to make a difference..." Quentin turned his attention back to Shade. "You can tell me what you have heard and I will confirm or set things straight depending on what you were told, but before that, we're going to have to send for help. Anyone you know...anyone I know. We have plenty of hands, that's not a major issue until the bullets start flying. a lot of the Lost Lake men are better with cows than Colts..."

Quentin leaned forward a bit, elbows resting on his knees and his hands cradled around his Scotch. "I have one I plan to send for, an old acquaintance from my San Francisco days. Harriet will absolutely not like him, but as far as I am concerned, that's a point in his favor." Quentin then looked between the other two men. "Do you know of anyone who would even want to get involved with a Range war?"

Tag Stormwolfe

Before Shade could start voicing questions and telling Quentin the little bit that he knew, Mary Miller, the ranch's long-term housekeeper came into the room, wiping her hands on a flour-splotched apron.

"Mr. Quentin has invited dinner guests for the evenin' meal. You all need to get cleaned up and clear out of here so I can set the table and finish up cooking," Mary stated, her face stern at first until she spotted Warbow. He got a brilliant smile from her, "It's a real pleasure to see you again, Mr. Warbow," she announced, "maybe with you home, you can keep these boys out of trouble."

Warbow rose to his feet as Mary entered the room. He bowed his head slightly, "It is good to see you again, Mrs. Miller. I am afraid that I cannot promise anything."

Mary patted him on the arm, "I am sure you will do your best." She flipped her apron at Quentin and Shade, "Go on, all three of you...get out of here and get cleaned up for dinner."

No one in the room was willing to argue with Mary Miller. They handed over their glasses and headed to their rooms to do as she ordered.