Now that he had spread his time between the shooting range and Lou's, McCree was making a note to exist more than he did.
Of course, the few times he had done so had left him facing strange and unusual things. McCree had handled them well enough, but he had definitely run up a few tabs at Lou's. One had been paid off. The other? Well, that was why he was now working there part-time.
Places like the river and the surrounding areas were places McCree often went for time he needed to just not exist. He would smoke his cigar, think about everything, and busy himself with nothing. It was the best sort of life. He couldn't complain.
He had heard the splashing and coughing, and made his way along the bank. Glancing down at the man, McCree raised a brow, though much was unseen from the shadow cast on his face from his cowboy hat.