THE GUNSMOKE AT RED HOLLOW

Chapter One — The Woman Who Rode Into Town

The town of Red Hollow had forgotten what silence sounded like.

For ten years, the streets had belonged to guns.

Men carried revolvers openly. Children learned to recognize the sound of a gunshot before they learned the sound of a church bell. Every autumn, when the dust turned gold beneath the setting sun, the town held a shooting contest that drew gamblers, drifters, bounty hunters, and killers from hundreds of miles away.

The prize was simple.

A thousand dollars.

But the real prize was something far more valuable.

The winner became the most feared gunfighter in the territory.

On the morning of the contest, a lone rider appeared on the eastern road.

She wore a dark coat, a weathered hat, and a silver star pinned beneath her collar.

Her name was Mara Vey.

Nobody in Red Hollow knew her.

That was exactly how she wanted it.

She stopped outside the town saloon and studied the wooden buildings lining the dusty street.

At the end of the road stood the old courthouse.

Above it hung a freshly painted sign:

THE RED HOLLOW SHOOTING — TODAY

Mara’s eyes remained fixed on the building.

Ten years earlier, her father had died there.

The town had called it an accident.

Mara had never believed that.

She had been seventeen when she watched him dragged from the courthouse steps, accused of stealing gold from the county treasury.

He had insisted he was innocent.

Nobody listened.

The man who testified against him was Silas Creed.

Now Creed owned half of Red Hollow.

And today, he would stand in the center of the shooting contest as its undefeated champion.

Mara stepped down from her horse.

A young bartender outside the saloon looked at her revolver.

“You here for the contest?”

“I’m here for something else.”

“What?”

Mara looked toward the courthouse.

“An old debt.”

Inside the saloon, several gunfighters turned when she entered.

One of them laughed.

“You don’t look like a gunfighter.”

Mara removed her gloves slowly.

“That’s because you haven’t seen me shoot.”

The laughter stopped.

At noon, the contest began.

Ten men entered.

Only one would leave with the prize.

Mara walked into the street.

The first opponent was a nervous young ranch hand named Caleb Ross.

The sheriff raised his hand.

“Draw.”

Caleb reached for his gun.

Mara was faster.

One shot.

His revolver flew from his hand and landed in the dirt.

The crowd gasped.

Mara lowered her weapon.

“I don’t kill men who don’t need killing.”

From the courthouse balcony, Silas Creed watched her carefully.

For the first time in ten years, his expression changed.

He recognized something.

Not her face.

Her eyes.

They belonged to a girl he’d once seen standing beside her father’s grave.

Creed whispered:

“Vey.”

Mara looked up.

Their eyes met.

Neither spoke.

But the past had finally returned to Red Hollow.

And this time, it had come armed.