“I know we’ve had our differences in the past,” she observed earnestly, “but that’s all over now, thanks in large part to Sloan McCord. As you all know, he had a big hand in ending the feud. Now he’s running for state senator and he needs your vote. This is your opportunity to learn about his views. All we ask is that you give him a fair hearing.”

The first question was thrown out by a stalwart, red-bearded man in almost a hostile tone. “Why in tarnation should we vote for you, McCord? For twenty years your pa tried to run our sheep out of the territory. How do we know you ain’t got the same notion up your sleeve?”

Sloan smiled and replied easily, “I’ve got nothing up my sleeve, John. You’ve known that for over twenty years, ever since we first went skinny-dipping together in Bear Creek when we were eight.”

Several men in the crowd guffawed, while the women tittered.

Sloan’s expression grew serious. “We’d be fools to turn our backs on sheep. The hard truth is, the cattle industry is going bust, and sheep are still profitable enough to support our county.”

“You aren’t suggestin’ we all become woollyboys, are you?” a cattleman called out incredulously.

“No. But we have to face reality. Our way of life is changing, and we have to change with it if we hope to survive. It’s hard even for the big outfits like mine to make ends meet. The small ones don’t have a chance unless we all stick together. And that requires going against the mining barons who’ve taken over the Colorado legislature. We need laws that will give us a square deal. We need someone in the government who’ll look out for our interests.”

“I hear Quinn Lovell plans to bring mines into the area,” someone else said. “That’ll mean good jobs for some of us.”

“Leaving aside the fact that mines will destroy the land, wouldn’t you rather hold on to your ranch than risk your life underground? Mining is a dangerous business. You know how many men make it to see forty without getting seriously hurt? And if so, they find their lungs eaten away by disease.”

“But turning Lovell away won’t put food on the table, Sloan. I hear he’s paying good money for scrap acres, and he’ll pay double if he wins the election.”

Frowning, Sarah Baxter leaned toward Heather and said in a furious undertone, “The gall of that sidewinder Lovell. He’s trying to buy votes!”

Sloan’s mouth curled dryly. “I can’t match Lovell’s offer to buy your land. All I can do is promise to fight for all of us equally.”

“That still don’t mean we should trust you,” another man muttered. “You turned your back on your own kind, taking a Injun squaw to wife.”