Chapter 9Dylan sank into a chair. With his missive to the men of town, everyone would be on guard against a stranger with a limp, but he wasn't sure they understood the threat. Hell, I don't even understand it. What will they do next? More letters or something more active and dangerous? Who or what will they target, and when? If only Jesse had gotten a closer look, we might have a decent description at least. A throbbing behind Dylan's right eyeball made perfect sense under the circumstances.
Jesse and Rob bustled in, guns hanging from their belts, their expressions grim.
Two stout young men, Dylan thought, looking them over. Jesse, though not tall, stood proud and certain, his eyes shrewd despite the yellow hair and slender physique that made him seem ineffectual. He's the sort that can
