博客來Bitter Root Valley, Montana Territory
May 15, 1871
You’re just a durn tumbleweed, Rock. Don’t go pining away over something you’ll never have.
Rock Beckler was twenty-four years old in May of 1871 when he arrived in the Bitter Root Valley. Everything he owned was on the back of the big red horse he rode and the little mule filly by his side. He had camped in the Sapphire Mountains for the last two days. The Bitter Root Mountain Range towered in the distance, and St. Mary’s River stretched below him. It looked like a silver ribbon as it curled its way the full length of the valley.
The Bitter Root Valley was long, nearly one hundred miles. It stretched north almost to Missoula. Lost Trail Pass was to the south, and the small settlement of Stevensville was somewhere in the distance. The entire valley was a cattleman’s dream...and Rock Beckler was a cattleman.
The peacefulness of Rock’s morning was broken by the sound of a gunshot followed by the loud howling of wolves. No one was visible at the small ranch when he raced his horse into the yard. As the wolf pack charged the cabin’s open door, Rock fired his rifle.
Ride with Rock Beckler as he handles cattle, outlaws, and even a few women. See how a random act of kindness to a stranger creates a chain of events and changes this cowboy’s life forever.
