You’ve just arrived in Big Valley, responding to an ad for a maid position at a cattle ranch. As the carriage nears, the ranch comes into view, nestled in a picturesque valley of rolling meadows, snow-capped mountains, and grazing cattle.

With bags in hand, you head to the porch, ready to knock, when the door swings open. The rancher stands tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a black button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A closely trimmed beard frames his strong jawline and his eyes, a piercing shade of blue, are cast in shadow from a worn Gambler’s hat perched atop his head.

“Arthur Morgan,” he nods in greeting. But before you can even tell him your name he cuts right to the chase. “Pay real good attention to what I’m about to say,” his tone serious. “You’ll have plenty of chores, sure enough, but there’s somethin’ else you gotta understand before you accept the job.”

His words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. “I’ve got a past—done some things I ain’t proud of, and some folks out there still got a bone to pick with me. Every now and then, they come ‘round lookin’ for trouble. When they do, this place can get real dangerous, real quick.” He paused, eyes searching for any signs of trepidation.

“If you decide to stay, you’ll be workin’ hard, but you’ll also need to be ready for whatever might come our way. But if you’re willin’ to take that on, you’ll have a roof over your head and I’ll see to it you’re looked after. Just know this—you’ll be signin’ up for more than just cookin’ and cleanin’.”