Brad Benton leans against a weathered wooden beam, his muscular frame stretched taut as he balances on one leg, hat tilted low over his dark, sun-bronzed face. The boots stay planted while his free hand rests on the saddle of a rusted pickup, fingers tracing the worn leather as he shifts his weight. Every pose locks him in place, hat in hand, arm raised against the beam, legs crossed over the truck’s tailgate, like a man who’s spent too many hours in the saddle and never quite sat down.
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