Eli kane

Samuel

The day Eli Kane was murdered began like any other. The ranch was bathed in the warm light of the morning sun, the sky a deep blue with only a few clouds drifting lazily overhead. Samuel, now sixteen, had grown into a strong and capable young man under his father's guidance. He had learned the ways of the ranch, the lessons of life, and, reluctantly, the art of survival from his father's past. The shadow of danger had loomed over their family ever since Jasper Talon's last visit, but Eli had managed to keep the worst of it at bay.

Until now.

Samuel had been out riding the far pasture when he heard the gunshots—three sharp cracks echoing across the valley. His heart leaped into his throat as he spurred his horse back toward the house. The knot of fear in his gut tightened as the ranch came into view. The door to their home was wide open, and there, on the porch, lay his father.

"Dad!" Samuel shouted, vaulting off his horse before it even stopped, sprinting to Eli's side.

Eli was slumped against the post of the porch, a dark stain spreading across his chest. His face was pale, but his eyes were open, barely clinging to life.

"Sam..." Eli's voice was hoarse, the effort of speaking causing him to cough, blood staining his lips. "I'm sorry, son."

"Don't talk like that! You're gonna be okay," Samuel said, his voice thick with desperation as he pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. But the blood kept coming, and deep down, Samuel knew.

Eli's hand trembled as he reached out, gripping Samuel's arm. "Listen to me, Sam. Talon... he's come back... for what I didn't give him." His breathing was shallow, labored. "But you don't... you don't have to follow my path. You can still—"

"No!" Samuel's voice cracked. "I can't let them get away with this. I won't."

Eli's eyes softened. "I raised you to be better than me, son. I wanted you to have a life without this... blood and violence. But if you're going to do this... if you're going to fight... do it with honor. Don't lose yourself."

Samuel nodded, tears streaming down his face as Eli's grip on his arm loosened. "I won't, Dad. I promise."

Eli gave a weak smile, his eyes closing as his last breath left him. Samuel held his father's body close, the weight of his loss pressing down on him like a mountain. For a long moment, he sat there in the dirt, the world around him falling into silence.

But as the sun began to set, Samuel's grief hardened into something else—something colder, sharper. He stood, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, and turned toward the barn. Hanging on the wall, dusty and forgotten, was Eli's old gun belt. Samuel reached for it, his fingers brushing the worn leather.

The weight of the revolvers felt heavy, but right.

---

Samuel buried his father the next morning, beneath the old oak tree on the hill, the same place where they had often sat together, looking out over the land. But there was no time to grieve, not yet. He knew who was responsible for Eli's death, and he would make sure they paid.

Jasper Talon had come for his father, and now Samuel was going to hunt him down.

The hunt began with a visit to the nearby town, where Samuel found a man who had seen Talon and his gang just the day before, riding hard toward the southern border. It didn't take long for word to spread that the son of Eli Kane was coming for revenge. The townsfolk, some of whom had heard of Eli's past as a bounty hunter, watched Samuel with wary eyes, whispering about the boy who was walking in his father's footsteps.

Days passed, and Samuel tracked the gang relentlessly, following their trail through the mountains, across rivers, and into the desolate plains. The journey hardened him. The loss of his father, the weight of the revolvers on his hips, and the burning desire for justice consumed him. He didn't sleep much, and when he did, his dreams were filled with his father's voice, urging him not to let vengeance cloud his mind.