Ten years ago a man named Don Harcourt roamed the wastes. Don was the finest ranger in the west, and devoted his life to justice, Kindness, and the bitter taste of Whiskey. For many years Don worked as a gun-for-hire, aiding caravan companies and towns by ridding them of pesky raiders and fiends. As he grew older Don became more and more sick. Whiskey had finally caught up with him, and he had to settle down in his home town of Goodsprings. He built himself a quaint little cabin, not far from the bar, and made a comfortable living offering shooting classes to locals and travelers alike.

Don passed away peacefully in his sleep, clutching his beloved rifle, several years before the Courier was dragged into Goodsprings. Out of respect the Ranger's Cabin still stands to this day, just as pristine as the day it was built, and open for anyone who needs shelter. In his will, Don left the home and everything inside to anyone who would keep his Whiskey Rose and treat her right. The Whiskey Rose still lies on Don's old bed, awaiting a new master.