Frank woke at 7:30.
For a moment he lay still beneath the thin morning light, listening to the quiet sounds of the town beyond the open window. A car passed somewhere along the street. A distant dog barked once and then lost interest.
The air smelled faintly of pine and cool morning stone.
Frank stretched, swung his legs out of bed, and sat there a moment with his hands resting loosely on his knees.
It was shaping up to be a decent day.
He dressed, stepped outside, and walked down the street toward the small coffee shop on the corner where he usually stopped in the mornings. Missoula was only just beginning to stir. A few people moved along the pavements with that unhurried rhythm of towns that woke gently.
The bell above the café door gave a soft metallic note as he stepped inside.
Frank ordered coffee and stood waiting near the window.
Someone came up beside him a moment later.
“You’re early today,” the woman said.
Frank turned.
Nadine stood there with her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, looking faintly amused.
For a second he simply looked at her.
Then he smiled.
“That’s funny,” he said slowly.
“What is?”
“I don’t know,” Frank replied. “Just—seeing you like this.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Like what?”
He hesitated, searching for the right phrasing.
“Like seeing you for the first time.”
Nadine laughed softly.
“You’ve seen me plenty of times, Frank.”
“Yeah,” he said, still smiling slightly. “I suppose I have.”
They carried their coffees outside and stood for a while beneath the pale morning sky.
“What’s the plan today?” she asked.
Frank considered this.
“Well,” he said, counting it off almost thoughtfully, “I’ve got archery this morning.”
“Busy man.”
“Swimming later.”
“That tracks.”
“And then I might head up into the hills for a walk this afternoon.”
Nadine shook her head with mild disbelief.
“Archery, swimming, hiiking. The Calder Triathlon. You’re trying to do the whole day at once.”
Frank laughed. "That's actually funny. But...why not?"
She laughed back.
“Alright, Frank. You do that.”
They finished their coffee together, and then Nadine headed off toward the street that led down through the centre of town while Frank continued the other way.
The archery range sat just outside town, a wide stretch of open ground bordered by trees. When Frank arrived, the targets were already standing in their usual neat row beneath the pale sky.
A few others had gathered near the equipment benches.
One of them lifted a hand in greeting.
“Morning, Frank.”
Frank waved back.
Steve Molyneux was adjusting the sight on his bow, squinting slightly as he worked.
“Wind’s not too bad today,” Steve said without looking up.
“Looks alright,” Frank agreed.
He set his camera down on the bench nearby and angled it carefully toward the range.
“Filming again?” Steve asked.
“Just a little.”
Steve shook his head with mild amusement.
“Your archive of Missoula life grows ever larger.”
Frank laughed.
“That’s the plan.”
He stepped back onto the line, lifted the bow, and drew the string slowly until it settled against his cheek.
The arrow flew cleanly.
Not perfect.
But close enough.
By midday the sun had climbed higher and the air carried the faint warmth of early afternoon.
Frank drove back into town and stopped by the pool.
Inside, the familiar echo of the building wrapped around him as he set the camera on the bench beside the lanes.
“Quiet today,” he said to the lens.
He slipped into the water.
The rhythm of swimming came easily—lap after lap beneath the bright lights, the soft churn of water breaking against the tiles.
When he climbed out again some time later, the afternoon had begun to soften toward evening.
Frank packed away the camera and stepped back onto the street.
The town had taken on that relaxed late-day atmosphere he liked best. People drifted along the pavements without much urgency. Cars moved slowly through the intersections.
Frank walked a short distance down the block before pausing outside a small bar.
The sign above the door read:
THE WANDERER
Frank stood there for a moment, considering it.
“That’s appropriate,” he murmured.
He smiled faintly to himself.
Because that was exactly what he was about to do.
Go for a wander.
Up into the hills above Missoula.