His name was Wells. Hank Wells. Hank was the real thing … a cowboy straight out of the old west. It was a lifestyle he’d grown up on, as he’d helped his mother and father on their Wyoming cattle ranch all of his life. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else. His hat bore the sweat stains from years of hard work, his jeans and flannel shirt were his uniform and his boots were well worn and meant for business. Come rain, shine, snow, heavy winds … he could be found riding the range on his favorite steed, Jack. Jack was a handsome brown and white American Paint Horse, standing an impressive 16 hands high at 6 years old, filled with energy and awareness of his surroundings. Jack and Hank cut a striking figure on the range and the cattle were always eager to follow wherever the pair led them.