As the granddaughter of a cattle rancher, twenty-one-year-old visual artist Alexandra Mackenzie knows full well how challenging it can be to carve a living out of prairie dust and gopher holes, but when she goes against her grandfather’s wishes and joins a Park’s Canada survey crew that’s examining options for a possible expansion of the Grassland Parks—hoping to expand her portfolio with spectacular prairie vistas—she had no idea just how strong the pushback would be from the area’s less-stable locals, as well as the families who’ve worked the land for generations. Local ranch hand Ryerson Coderre comes from just such a family and is no fan of expansion himself, but he can see the inevitability of it and the wisdom of working with the government rather than against it. Still, as tensions between the survey teams and the locals mount to dangerous levels, he finds himself the only person available to look out for the beautiful young surveyor. He can’t help but wish for a return to simpler times ... especially when local secrets, long since buried, begin inching their way closer to the surface. Alex’s long-term goal is earning a highly sought after scholarship to study art in Paris on the line, while Rye is caught between loyalty to his family and an undeniable fascination with the lovely outsider. They both have a lot to lose—not only their hearts but if they aren’t careful ... their lives as well.

Describes the history of cowboys in western Colorado and challenges they faced due to troublesome terrain and weather conditions, and discusses the day-to-day experiences of ranch hands, ranchers, and their families.

Rattlesnakes and ornery horses, the dreaded Texas Itch, midnight rambles in graveyards, trips to Mexico, and hard riding on the last open range: George Philip recounts all these adventures and more with wit and humour. George Phillip arrived in South Dakota from Scotland in 1899. For the next four years, he rode as a cowboy for his uncle's L-7 cattle outfit during the heyday of the last open range. But the cowboy era was a brief one, and in 1903 Philip turned in his string of horses and hung up his saddle to enter law school in Michigan. In these candid letters, Philip provides fascinating insights into the development of the West and of South Dakota. His writing details the cowboy's day-to-day work, from branding and roping to navigating across the palins by stars and buttes, as the great open ranges slowly closed up.

This is a book any rancher or would be rancher would enjoy. There is an underlying humor common to most cowboys, and they can see that a good relationship exists between horse and cowboy.

From the big picture to the smallest detail, Richard Collins fashions a rousing memoir about the modern-day lives of cowboys and ranchers. However, Cowboy is a Verb is much more than wild horse rides and cattle chases. While Collins recounts stories of quirky ranch horses, cranky cow critters, cow dogs, and the people who use and care for them, he also paints a rural West struggling to survive the onslaught of relentless suburbanization. A born storyteller with a flair for words, Collins breathes life into the geology, history, and interdependency of land, water, and native and introduced plants and animals. He conjures indelible portraits of the hardworking, dedicated people he comes to know. With both humor and humility, he recounts the day-to-day challenges of ranch life such as how to build a productive herd, distribute your cattle evenly across a rough and rocky landscape, and establish a grazing system that allows pastures enough time to recover. He also intimately recounts a battle over the endangered Gila topminnow and how he and his neighbors worked with university range scientists, forest service conservationists, and funding agencies to improve their ranches as well as the ecological health of the Redrock Canyon watershed. Ranchers who want to stay in the game don’t dominate the landscape; instead, they have to continually study the land and the animals it supports. Collins is a keen observer of both. He demonstrates that patience, resilience, and a common-sense approach to conservation and range management are what counts, combined with an enduring affection for nature, its animals, and the land. Cowboy is a Verb is not a romanticized story of cowboy life on the range, rather it is a complex story of the complicated work involved with being a rancher in the twenty-first-century West.