Loyalties By Marty Blocker Copyright 2001 In a motel in northern Wyoming, early morning, too tired to sleep. Coming back from Elko, Nevada, been gone for most of a week. I tried to be quiet as I pulled on my jeans.  No need to wake the wife up. It was early, but maybe there's coffee.  So to the lobby I hunted a cup. Three gentlemen shuffled in like I did.  Three lives that have been spent in the saddle. I thought, here's some ol' boys that might visit, 'bout grass and horses and cattle. Weathered faces & hard hands that knew wind, rope & leather.  Levis, brand new & stiff. Walking some bent and kinda achy.  I realized that's how I feel before six. We nodded "Good Mornin" and greeted.  Nobody mentioned no names.  They ranched way up in Montana.  I said, Nebraska Sandhills, I claim. We hunkered down at two separate tables.  Just waiting for our day to begin. I'll admit I initiated the talking.  But they loosened up as the coffee kicked in. We talked about how ranges will differ.  We discussed molasses, lick tubs and cake. They told me about high mountain pastures.  And the prices of leases and hay. They politely never mentioned acres or numbers.  No, just horses and places they knew. One of them  spoke of his rodeo days.  And told of the slack that he threw. They joshed each other about snoring.  You could tell they shared bed grounds before.  But...the second cup was now empty and they lingered as if putting off some chore. Two of the old cowmen stood up to get ready.  They said they'd meet back at the room. The third one agreed, "Yeah, we need to get started.  We need to be going pretty soon." Well I stood up & said, it was sure good to meet them.  We shook hands & wished safe trips home. As I gathered up cups & found the wastebasket. There was just me & the third cowboy alone. He sighed and said "We've got sort of a hard thing before us.  We came down to see an old friend. We left our wives to take care of our cattle.  We just had to come see him again. He's in some hospital down here somewhere. Probably won't be able to visit they say. They said he might not even know we're in the room.  But we had to come down anyway. As he turned, I told him I felt honored. To stand in the shadow of them. It was a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such Good ranchers, old cowmen, true friends.