Prologue

Tyler placed a trembling hand on the slate .45 revolver resting in its smooth leather holster. Anger boiled in his grayish-brown eyes. "Turn yourself in, Dylan. Do something right, for once! You know I wasn't the one who robbed that stagecoach! You're the one who killed all those people!"

Tyler glared at Dylan, as they stood on a stretch of emerald pasture that encompassed the Walsh family cattle ranch. He glanced at the sweat trickling from underneath the fugitive's dusty ebony cowboy hat down to his onxy hair. A herd of forty tan Longhorns grazed in the distance around the oak trees.

Dylan smiled. "Come on, take your hand off the gun. You couldn't kill your own twin, could you? It would be like killin' yourself. Just think of all the times I took up for you, you lily-white coward! Get your hands dirty and take the blame for once. You're thirty-five, isn't it time to pay the fiddler?"

"I'm not going to confess to a crime I didn't commit. Breaking a dish and killing people are completely different! Don't you understand that?" Tyler said with a growl. He clenched his gun.

"Don't be so self-righteous." Dylan snarled and spat on the ground. "I know you got religion, but spare me."

"Why? We used to get along 'til you got so hardheaded." Tyler kept his hand on the gun.

Dylan shot his brother a hateful stare with his icy blue eyes. "Pa left the ranch to you. I'm taking what's mine. I'll never turn myself in! I'll keep the money, and you'll go to jail. Better yet, you'll swing where them little birdies sing!" He pointed to the tree and laughed.

Tyler stepped forward, testing Dylan's bravado.

Dylan recoiled and in that moment disappeared. No trace of him remained behind not even his crimson shirt, charcoal pants, or leather boots.

Tyler blinked. Can't believe it. Where did Dylan go? He surveyed the area to his far right. Tyler stared at the pewter silo and ruby barn but found nothing.

"Dylan!" He strolled around in a circle. "Dylan! What kind of trick are you pullin'? Sure did mess up a day of work for me. Got to get those cows in the north forty by nightfall." Tyler balled up his fists.

The more he searched the field, the more panicked he became. If I get my hands on him, I'll turn him in myself.

"Where in the tarnation are you?" He scratched his head. What has happened?

While hunting for his brother, Tyler glanced down at his tan hands that were now an uncomfortable-looking pink. His long-sleeved navy shirt and taupe pants were wet from sweat as he walked around in circles while the hot sun shone on him. How could a body disappear like that? Dang, it's hot. Tyler pulled out a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipped the sweat of his forehead. Last saw him here. Tyler pointed at the space where Dylan once stood. Nothin's here but the ground. He bent down to further examine the spot and fell nose first.