The Faded Frontier
The invitation card was thick, cream-colored stock, heavy enough to crack a knuckle if held too tightly, and Elias Thorne turned it over in his hands as if checking for hidden flaws. He was forty-two, a man whose face had been carved by wind and duty, and tonight he would stand before the entire town of Blackwood to celebrate the new rail line. His want was simple, concrete, and desperate: the...
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