As the dust settled and the echoes of gunfire faded into the morning air, Cole took a moment to survey the aftermath of the showdown.
The streets of River's Edge lay strewn with debris, the scars of battle etched into the very fabric of the town.
But amidst the destruction, there was a sense of quiet satisfaction in Cole's heart.
For in that moment, he had achieved what he had set out to do.
The gang that had torn his life apart lay defeated at his feet, their reign of terror brought to an end.
But even as he reveled in his victory, Cole knew that the fight was far from over.
There were still loose ends to tie up, still justice to be served.
And as he looked to the horizon, he knew that his journey was far from finished.
With a heavy heart, Cole turned to his fallen comrade, his eyes lingering on the lifeless form for a moment before he gently closed them.
It was a somber reminder of the cost of his quest for vengeance, a price that he had been all too willing to pay.
But even in the face of such loss, Cole knew that he could not falter.
There were still those who needed him, still battles left to be fought.
And as he mounted his horse and rode out of town, he knew that he carried with him the weight of his past, but also the hope of a better future.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its golden light over the vast expanse of the untamed West, Cole rode on, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
For though the road ahead would be long and treacherous, he knew that he rode not alone, but with the spirits of those who had come before him, guiding his way.
And as he disappeared into the distance, his legend etched into the annals of history, the West whispered his name with reverence, for Cole McBride was a man who had dared to defy the odds, a man who had stared death in the face and emerged victorious.
To be continued in Book 2: "Whispers in the Wind"...
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