Bitter wind a western story
When you live the sort of life I do--the life of a hired gun--you start to figure you can handle any tough hand who comes along. But the tough hand I had to drill right between the eyes just happened to be a Flynn. And even though it was self-defense, there's no way his pa and the rest of the clan wouldn't come after me. In a wild race across the frozen prairie, their first bullet killed my horse and their second caught me right in the thigh.
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