Chapter 4: The CowboyThe next day I bumped into the cowboy, Manning Dawn, at Rawster’s Convenience Store on Westing Street in downtown Templeton. Both of us were buying milk.
“You should come and see me play tomorrow night.” Manning batted his green eyes at me, took his Stetson off, and tipped his head forward. Such a gentleman. Always a gentleman. Never had I seen him out of character. Quiet. Polite. Tender. A charmer like me. Not once in the last year had he come across as rude or an asshole. He always had golden manners and shared a rugged smile with me. To me, Manning stood out as the ex-cattle rancher from Stockton County in Oklahoma who sported his cowboy hat, jeans, boots, and a holstered Colt .45 at his right hip. To others he was an outsider who gained a shitload of money and was
