He was a man of two tribes and the Comanche blood that flowed in his veins was that of one of the most savage raiders of the south-west. But a white man had raised him and there was as much hate as duty mixed in with those years. They called him Blaine, a name known far and wide across Texas: a man who said little and who was willing to be judged by his actions. He worked hard and fought hard, essentially a loner with a void in his heart that could never be filled. Unless he killed the man who had raised him — a man to whom he owed everything. And Blaine always paid his debts.
