The morning was bright and cold, like a November morning should be.
At least the mornings Teaspoon wouldn´t need to be outside for longer than ten minutes at a time.
The odd middle-aged man sat comfortably in his chair, next to the oven, a nice hot cup of coffee in his hands. His hair surrounded his head like a cloud, bravely defining gravity. He wore his usual mixture of suspenders and shirt-sleeved mischievousness. He seemed stout, a lot more than he actually was. The way he held himself let him appear as a rather ponderous man, a mistake a lot of dishonorable gentleman had made in their time. Teaspoon had seen enough for him to know that a dry, warm and diverting place to life was hard to come by. So he enjoyed his role as a stationmaster for the pony express tremendously.
All the thugs, adventure and oatmeal a man could wish for, wrapped in one job.
It was early, and Emma was bustling about, preparing what smelled suspiciously like biscuits.
The first rays of sunlight creeped over the hills and made the frozen ground glitter. Teaspoon watched it through a closed, frost covered window and felt incredibly homely.
They would be a small group for breakfast this morning. With Hickok, Kid and Lou on a mail run, it left only three of the riders at the station.
Ike, Buck and Cody showed up all in different stages of consciousness.
Cody extended his night sleep in the warm pillow of Emma´s fresh biscuits, his blond hair draped around his plate, the normally blue eyes contently closed.
Buck reached for the coffee pot first. It was one of his little peculiarities. He could function very well without his morning coffee, but it wouldn´t be a good day for whoever had to spend it with him.
Normally it was best to leave him be until his first cup was empty. The only one who could disturb him before that, and would live to tell the tale, was Ike.
The two of them made the strangest couple of brothers one had ever seen.
Buck with the dark skin and black hair, he inherited from his Indian mother and Ike, pale white with no hair at all. They met in an orphanage. Two little boys avoided by the other kids. Buck, because of the savage people saw in him, and Ike because of the illness that robbed him of his hair and took his voice, leaving him mute.
Teaspoon watched, fascinated as Ike made a gesture, and Buck, without looking up, handed him the milk. Sometimes it seemed like Ike would use his sign language only to show the rest of the world he was talking. Buck understood him without it.
Ike contemplated Cody´s head for a while, then made some quick gestures.
"What is it Ike?" asked Emma, while she put a plate full of scrambled eggs on the table. Emma was a warmhearted woman, with open arms and understanding ears for the young riders she took care of. In a lot of ways she was more of mother than the housekeeper her paycheck dictated she be. A mother a lot of the riders were in dear need of since, true to the regulations of the company, they were all orphans.
Buck answered through a yawn:" He…. He said, if we don´t turn his head, Cody will suffocate on his breakfast."
Teaspoon turned his head to the boy next to him. A slight snoring erupted of the doughy depth. Very tactfully, Teaspoon brought his fork under the table.
There was a high pinched sound and Cody shot up, pieces of biscuits still sticking to his face.
"What is it boy? Charley Horse?" Teaspoon asked innocently.
Cody mumbled something unintelligent and clasped his own fork to shovel eggs on his plate.
They ate in an amicable silence for about ten minutes when Ike got up so quickly his chair fell over.
"Ike?" Cody sounded more annoyed then startled.
The youth in question held out his hand to stop him from talking and then made his way to open the door. With the surge of cold air something else seeped in their matutinal idyll – hoof beats, rapid and urgent.