Chapter 1: The Wanted and The Bounty Hunter
The midday sun blazed overhead, turning the dusty street into a shimmering ribbon of heat. The town of Bitter Creek lay still, its inhabitants sheltering from the oppressive warmth, except for the two figures standing in the middle of Main Street, facing each other down like statues. On one side was Hank Boone, the swaggering son of the town’s mayor, a smirk twisting his lips as he fingered the hilt of his Colt. Opposite him stood a man who was no stranger to the weight of a gun in his hand, Abilene’s father, Thomas Crowe. His eyes were narrowed, focused on the man who had insulted him and dishonored his family.
A hush had fallen over the town as the seconds ticked by, every eye glued to the impending showdown. The only sound was the distant creak of a windmill, its blades turning slowly in the stifling air. Then, in a blur of motion, both men went for their guns. A single shot rang out, echoing off the wooden storefronts, and Abilene’s heart shattered into a million pieces as she watched her father collapse to the ground, his hand still clutching his pistol, but too late, too slow.
“No!” Abilene’s scream tore through the silence as she sprinted toward her fallen father, her skirts kicking up clouds of dust. She dropped to her knees beside him, cradling his head in her lap as his blood seeped into the dirt.
“Abilene…” Thomas’s voice was a rasp, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hand trembled as he reached up to touch her face, his thumb brushing away her tears.
“Pa, don’t you dare leave me,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she pressed her forehead against his.
“You can’t leave me…”
He coughed, a spasm that made his entire body shake, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“Listen to me… girl. You… you’re stronger than you know… stronger than me. Don’t… let this town… break you.”
Her father’s words were cut off by another violent cough, and she held him tighter, desperate to keep him with her for just a little longer. But his breathing grew more labored, his eyes losing their focus. He forced himself to speak again, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“Promise me… Abilene… promise you’ll… make things right.”
“I will, Pa,” she choked out.
“I swear I will.”
With one last, shuddering breath, Thomas Crowe’s hand fell limply to the ground, and his eyes glazed over, staring sightlessly at the sky. Abilene’s scream of grief filled the street, but Hank Boone didn’t even flinch. He holstered his gun, adjusted his hat, and turned away, leaving the scene without a second glance.
The townsfolk, too, began to disperse, their interest in the duel fading now that it was over. But Abilene didn’t move from her spot on the ground. She stayed there, holding her father’s body until the sun dipped low in the sky and the shadows grew long. It wasn’t until the cool breeze of evening began to blow that she finally rose, her face streaked with dust and tears, her heart hardened by the loss.
As she walked away from Bitter Creek that night, leaving behind the only home she had ever known, she made a vow to herself: Hank Boone would pay for what he had done. And she would be the one to deliver justice.
***
Months had passed since that fateful day, and Abilene had become a ghost a name whispered in saloons and around campfires, her face plastered on wanted posters across the territory. The once bright-eyed daughter of Thomas Crowe had transformed into a hardened gunslinger, her heart set on one thing: vengeance. She’d hunted Hank Boone across the plains, through deserts and canyons, her resolve never wavering. And when she finally found him, holed up in a dingy hideout far from Bitter Creek, she had confronted him with the same cold determination that had driven her every step.
“Abilene Crowe,” Hank had sneered, his hand hovering near his holster as she leveled her pistol at his chest.
“You’ve got some nerve coming after me, girl. Didn’t your daddy teach you not to play with guns?”
Abilene’s grip tightened on the handle of her revolver.
“He taught me plenty, Hank. But he never taught me what to do when a coward shoots a man in cold blood.”
Hank’s eyes flickered with unease, but his bravado didn’t falter. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart. It was a fair duel, and you know it.”
“Fair?” she spat, her voice thick with anger. “You ambushed him, Hank. You shot him before he could even draw his gun.”
Hank shrugged, a twisted grin playing on his lips.
“Guess he wasn’t quick enough. And neither are you.”
The next few moments were a blur. Hank went for his gun, but Abilene was faster. She fired a single shot, and Hank crumpled to the ground, the life draining from his eyes before he could even register what had happened. She stared at his lifeless body, the revenge she had sought for so long finally achieved, but instead of satisfaction, all she felt was a hollow emptiness.
Now, as she stood in the shadows of a deserted barn, far from the prying eyes of any town, she realized that her quest for vengeance had only left her more alone than ever. The wanted posters with her likeness were everywhere, offering a bounty for her capture, dead or alive. She was no longer just Abilene Crowe, the girl seeking justice she was a fugitive, a criminal in the eyes of the law, with a price on her head.
And at the top of the list of those hunting her was none other than Buck Harlan, a bounty hunter with a reputation for being as cool as he was dangerous.
***
Buck Harlan sat at a corner table in a smoky saloon, nursing a glass of whiskey as he listened to the chatter around him. His sharp blue eyes took in everything the poker game in the back, the piano player tinkling out a tune, the barmaid flirting with a group of ranch hands. He was always on alert, always watching, even when he seemed relaxed.
A few days ago, he had picked up a new job, one that promised a hefty reward. Mayor Boone had personally requested him to track down and capture Abilene Crowe, the woman responsible for his son’s death. Buck had heard the rumors, the stories about the girl who had turned into a ruthless gunslinger, and he was intrigued. But it wasn’t just the money that interested him—something about this job felt different, like it had the potential to be more than just another bounty.
As he sipped his whiskey, he felt a presence approaching his table. Without looking up, he addressed the person standing before him.
“You’ve got information for me?”
The man, a scruffy-looking fellow with a nervous twitch, nodded quickly.
“I do, Mr. Harlan. Heard from some folks down south that Abilene was seen near the old Crowe place. Seemed like she was laying low there for a bit.”
Buck set his glass down and finally looked up, fixing the man with a piercing gaze.
“And when was this?”
“Couple days ago,” the informant replied, shifting on his feet.
“But word is she didn’t stick around long. Might’ve moved on by now.”
Buck leaned back in his chair, considering the information. The Crowe place of course she’d go back there. It made sense, in a way, that she’d return to where it all started. But he knew she wouldn’t stay there long, not with the law breathing down her neck.
“Appreciate the tip,” Buck said, tossing a few coins onto the table. The informant snatched them up and scurried off, eager to be out of the bounty hunter’s presence.
Buck finished his drink, his mind already working on his next move. The Crowe place would be the logical first stop, but he knew better than to assume she’d still be there. Abilene Crowe was no fool, and she wouldn’t make it easy for him.
But that was part of the thrill, wasn’t it? The chase, the challenge of outsmarting his prey. And there was something about this particular hunt that stirred something in him, a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time.
As he rose from his seat and made his way toward the door, the saloon’s patrons gave him a wide berth. Everyone knew who he was, and nobody wanted to be on the wrong side of Buck Harlan. He tipped his hat to the bartender as he left, stepping out into the fading light of dusk. The evening air was cool, a stark contrast to the heat of the day, and Buck breathed it in deeply as he mounted his horse, a sleek black stallion named Midnight.
He knew the road to the Crowe place well it wasn’t far from here, a couple of hours’ ride at most. And with luck, he might just find Abilene there, or at least pick up her trail. The bounty on her head was enough to draw every gun for hire in the territory, but Buck was confident that he’d be the one to bring her in.
As he rode out of town, the landscape stretched before him, a vast expanse of rolling hills and scrubland.