![]() ![]() When the stage doesn't start forward, Marshall glances at him-a fleeting look first, but a longer one when their eyes lock. Somehow, Marshall's proximity isn't helping. He should put his eyes on the road ahead and get the horses moving, but his hands are still shaking. Bram finds himself staring again, and this time he can't bring himself to look away. When he climbs onto the bench beside Bram, it's with a freshly loaded shotgun in hand he looks like a man ready for anything. Instead of mounting, he simply hitches his horse to the back of the coach. ![]() Marshall returns quickly, on foot, kicking up dust as he leads his horse into the road. He wishes it were enough to settle his anxious nerves as he climbs back into his seat, reins in hand. Well, that and the rescue for which Bram is plenty grateful. He's got no reason to trust him beyond the fact that so far the man hasn't tried to shoot him. But if Marshall wants to stick around after the gunfire fades, Bram's not going to complain.īram doesn't really consider leaving when Marshall disappears to retrieve his own horse but his heartbeat is a confused racket in his chest, and he's none too sure why he stays. Right place, right time, that's all this is.īram Caldwell sure as hell didn't expect to need rescuing. ![]()
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