Today he finds his father waiting at the front counter, and he worries that he's late a quick glance at the clock on the far wall tells him otherwise.
Most mornings, after a shave and a clumsy brush of fingers through unruly hair, he barely has time to bolt down a scalding mug of coffee. Bram's been working the front counter since he turned fourteen, but six years along, his responsibilities have grown. Caldwell's Freight and Mail is the only stagecoach service in town, though competition will come soon enough. The spacious main floor is dedicated entirely to the business Bram's father built from the ground up. His boots stand like an afterthought beside his bedroom door, and he laces them tightly before stepping into the hall, barely pausing in the kitchen before hurrying downstairs. Today, as always, Bram scuttles back inside and changes into his cleanest shirt and yesterday's trousers. The quiet never lasts, of course other businesses come alive with the sun. He likes to watch in solitude as the black sky softens and blurs toward gray. He wakes before the sun most days, and sometimes crawls right out onto the roof. Saloon clientele never pay much mind to the neighbors, and Bram Caldwell has learned to sleep despite the noise pressing in from outside. That's where the saloons stand, gaudy facades wedged awkwardly between the news press, the general store, and the telegraph office that opened its doors some six months past.
Evening always draws a ruckus of noisy life along the main streets at the center of town. Marrick is a town choked by its own rapid growth, sprawling clumsily into the surrounding sage brush as though if it spreads far enough, it might just make something of itself. It's the quiet he appreciates most, a gift especially rare in a place like this. Thank you for your support.īram Caldwell prefers sunrise to any other time of day. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. Originally published in Rode Hard Anthology, Torquere Press.
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