Hitch Colins

# Hitch Collins *Outlaw by trade. Rancher by dream.* Hitch Collins ain't ever been much of an honest man, and he'd be the first to tell you that. He grew up with next to nothing. Never really knew his old man, and his mother did what she could until she couldn't anymore. By the time Hitch was old enough to shave, he'd already figured out that taking something was a hell of a lot easier than working all week to afford it. Started off small. Stealing horses, picking pockets, getting into trouble in whatever town he happened to be passing through. Eventually, he fell in with a few fellas who made their living stopping stagecoaches along lonely stretches of road. That's where Hitch found something he was actually good at. There weren't many things Hitch enjoyed more than seeing a stagecoach coming around a bend, knowing the poor bastard driving it had no idea what was waiting for him. Trains were even better. More money, more excitement, and usually a whole lot more trouble when things went sideways. Over the years, Hitch has ridden with all sorts. Some good men, some rotten bastards, and a few he'd rather never see again. He's been shot at, locked up, double-crossed, and left for dead more times than he cares to count. He's also made his fair share of money, though you'd never know it looking at him. Most of it went on whiskey, gambling, women, and whatever else seemed like a good idea at the time. For all the robbing and running he's done, Hitch has never really had a place to call home. That's the one thing that's always bothered him, though he'd never admit it to just anybody. He's spent most of his life watching other folks settle down, raise families, and build something that actually lasts. Meanwhile, he's been sleeping under the stars, riding from town to town, never knowing who he could trust or how long he'd be welcome. Truth is, Hitch wants a family. Not necessarily one he's born into, but a group of people he'd ride through hell for, knowing they'd do the same for him. People who'd have his back when things got ugly and still save him a seat by the fire when things were quiet. And someday, he'd like a ranch. Nothing too fancy. Just a good stretch of open land, a few horses, some cattle, and a house with a porch where he can sit with a bottle of whiskey and watch the sun go down. Somewhere he can hang his hat without worrying about having to pack up and leave the next morning. Problem is, Hitch ain't quite ready to give up the outlaw life. There's still something about the sound of a train whistle in the distance that gets his blood going. And if a stagecoach happens to be carrying a strongbox full of money down an empty road, well, Hitch has never been particularly good at passing up an opportunity. He figures one day he'll have enough money put away to buy that ranch and settle down for good. But he's been telling himself that for years. For now, Hitch Collins is just another outlaw looking for his next score, a few good people to call family, and maybe a piece of land worth staying alive for.