The Beast of Dry Gulch
I knew he was coming long before I saw him.
Word had traveled fast in Dry Gulch—too fast. It always did when something worth gossiping about was on its way. Folks had been whispering his name for days now, saying how Dennis Calloway was riding back into town after all these years. Most of them thought he was coming back for revenge. I knew better.
He was coming for more than revenge. He was coming for what was his.
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