Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, just having fun with this awesome ensemble.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction of any sort, but I always wondered what Glee would be like as a western ever since I rewatched "The Rhodes Not Taken" episode with the cowboy number. I was also inspired by "The Magnificent Seven" (the film, not the gymnasts- though they're quite inspiring as well =), along with a certain Rachel Berry quote from the "Vitamin D" episode. This is the romantic era of the long drive and the cowboy. I tried to make it historically accurate, but if I get something wrong, I'm truly sorry.

Prologue – The Difference between Angels and Outlaws

...

It was high noon on top of the desert cliff when Rachel Berry defied gravity and became the sun.

It wasn't always that way, however.

When Rachel Berry was 8, she used to think that angels hovered around up above helping to hold the sun in the sky, and listened in during those afternoons when her father would sit with her outside on the porch of the town saloon. He would strum his old parlor guitar while flashing that proud smile of his as she belted out one of the songs she'd learned from the cattle hands. Proud because she sang much better than the cattle hands – or anyone else in town for that matter, and so he likened her voice to the angels.

Her voice would waver though whenever she'd ask him to stay every time the John James Gang that rustled cattle in Doña Ana decided to stop by northeast of El Paso to pay their little town a visit. He would always say, "It's the sheriff's duty, Darlin'," before putting on a six-pointed gold star on his chest and heading out towards the sound of gunfire. But he would always come back and tell her, "I love you, Rachel. Now sing me a song so we can thank the angels who kept me safe this time." So she continued singing and everything was sunshine.

One night, while they were sitting on the porch eating biscuits and she was taking sips from her father's coffee, she asked why he always wore the gold star. Her father smiled and pointed to the sky, telling her that whenever the good people on the trail heading west would get lost without a compass, the stars guided them. And that even the sun does the same during the day.

"Maybe with enough help, we can stop this John James Gang and get meat back on our tables," her father continued.

"Daddy, I don't even like meat! I just want you safe," she cried.

He chuckled as he hugged her close and said, "I know you want things to change, Darlin'. But you have to understand that sometimes it requires sacrifices."

"But why does it have to be you that makes those sacrifices?" she asked, still confused.

"Because change starts with yourself, you know," he replied.

They sat in silence as she thought about his words. She figured she couldn't change her father's mind, but at least they had the angels and stars and each other. That was enough.

She then joked, "Why do you have to pin the star on your chest, Daddy? You can just keep it in your pocket."

Her father smiled and said, "It's on our left chest so it guides our hearts too."

When Rachel Berry was 18, the skies were gray. The outlaws came that day, and she learned that they didn't wear stars because they don't have hearts, as she hid inside her father's office while the guns fired and the women screamed so loud outside, you couldn't hear the angels. Her father didn't come back.