Chapter 3
A month later, Deuce drove down the small main street in the small town in South Dakota. He’d crisscrossed the country, staying a few days or maybe even a week in each town before moving on, never using the same name twice.
Now, he was finally home, in the town of Woody Draw, where his family had lived for more than a hundred and thirty years. He steered the dusty black pickup truck g*****a had produced to a spot a few stores down from the Hummingbird Diner.
He turned off the engine, got out of the truck, and gazed up and down the sidewalk, wondering if he’d recognize anyone. Crowds of noisy kids celebrating the last day of school jostled each other. Somehow they avoided jostling him.
Deuce strode toward the diner, the jeans, red and black plaid shirt, boots, and tan cowboy h
