Grady Hart: The Cattle Rustler (Episode 6)

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the dusty clearing. The air was thick and still, the smell of dry sage mingling with the faint tang of sweat and leather. Grady pulled Crow to a stop, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the scene ahead: six men gathered under the gnarled oak tree, their faces hard and weathered like the land itself. Beneath the crooked branches, a bruised and battered man stood tied to the trunk, a noose dangling just above his head.

“That don’t look right,” Sam muttered, his voice low. He shifted in his saddle, his hand brushing against the butt of his rifle.

Defiance leaned forward on her big unruly mare she had decided to call Tempest, who was, at the moment irritated at stopping and was already snorting and pawing at the ground. “It’s not just wrong,” she said, her voice like a blade. “That’s murder waiting to happen.”