Chapter 3

With a big black void in his mind, he turned and hurried out to find a horse waiting. He could barely remember riding this animal, but with a Mexican saddle on it, he knew he must have spent some time in Mexico. It was his only clue as to where he had spent the last ten years of his life. Climbing upon the horse, he gave him a nudge with his silver spurs, and the animal responded as if he’d been doing it every day for the past ten years. As quickly as he could, he headed out of town, toward Texas and a little town called Thunderbolt.

* * * *

Now, as he sat at a table listening to the town fathers discuss him and his ranch, he’d had all he couldtake and lunged out of his chair. “I’m gettin’ mighty tired of—”

The sheriff rushed over to him and said, “Easy, Storm. Now’s not the time. You got a place to stay?”

“I’m out at Thunderbolt Mountain,” Storm said as he pushed his long hair out of his face. “It ain’tmuch, but it’ll do until I can move into the ranch.”