The Gunfighter

Cattle graze where once the great buffalo herds moved across the land. Towns sprang up; people came from the four corners of the
earth, spreading out across the vast plains. The era was raw, wild and bustling.
Of law there was little or none. Men lived and died by their word, by their courage and stubborn will to survive. Some came to build,
to found cattle and railroad empires. Others dug for gold and silver some ploughed the fertile soil, planted crops and tamed the wild
river. Others used the gun and shocking violence to take what they otherwise cared not to earn by dint of toil and sweat. And there
were those who hired out to hunt them down, solitary, lonely men of few words.
He was young when he first hired out, but that was long ago.
Times were changing and all he wanted was a place of his own, to sit in the sun and slowly fade away on the wind. He was an aging
man who had left his name and reputation far behind him. He was different now, settled and at peace.
Then one day he received a letter that chilled him to the bone. The letter was addressed to the man he used to be. The old gunfighter
was long past his prime and sometimes his hands trembled like leaves on the aspen, but he had no choice other than to answer
the letter to find out who wanted him dead and why, only to find nothing is what it seems.