The bounty on my head was placed by a landowner named Precious Comely. That name suited him like a tailored vest. He offered a thousand acres to any man who delivered me into the custody of the law. I’d been in jail twice in the Republic of Texas, and I kind of liked it there. The meals were pretty good and the jail cells were as big as a full moon. If I ended up back in jail, I figured good food would be the only luxury I’d know.

I met a man in the Johnson County Jail who told me about the rodeos down in Pecos. I always had a way with animals, and this fella said that they had bull riding and steer roping contests. Hell, I grew up riding bulls. I could tame a bull just by looking him in the eyes. I figured I might finally get my chance to be famous for something other than killing people.

Then I saw a stagecoach in the distance. At first I thought I was seeing things, but then it was right there in front of me like a punch in the gut. I put my hand on my gun as the wooden wheels came to a stop.

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