The dry wind blew dust across the streets of Hillwood. The town buzzed with merchants haggling over supplies and ranchers driving cattle past wooden storefronts. Cassidy Durham rode in on his horse slowly, hat drawn low enough to hide his eyes.

His group of bandits had scattered two towns back, when lawmen had shown up quicker than expected. The gunfight was brief. Cass had put two down before they were outnumbered. Now he rode alone, tense, hand near the revolver beneath his coat, just in case.