Can This Be Christmas? by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2013-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Five

“O Christmas Tree”

The news that the snow had stopped falling should have cheered Len Dawber, but it didn’t. Instead, his mood took an immediate dive. He’d figured that with the storm passing, the train would leave soon. It didn’t appear to be the case.

His interest in the card game died and he got up to give his seat to someone else, but no one seemed keen to play anymore. Before long, Nick Berry had the deck of cards and sat alone, flipping through them in a listless game of solitaire.

His frustration mounting, Len approached the counter. Clayton Kemper glanced up. “Can I get you anything?”

“How about some information?” Matt McHugh asked, moving to Len’s side. “We’ve been here six hours. There must be something you can tell us by now.” He clenched his fist and rested it on the counter. “You’ve got to realize how impossible this situation is for us.”

Kemper shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Isn’t there someone you could phone?” The plaintive voice of a woman came from behind them. Len looked over his shoulder and recognized the mother of the little boy, who still clung to her side.

“Find out what you can,” Matt insisted. “You owe us that much.”

“Surely there’s someone you can call,” the elderly black man said.

Tension filled the room as more people stood up and started walking about. The baby Cathy Norris held awoke suddenly and shattered the air with a piercing cry. Cathy tried to quiet the infant, but it did no good. The young mother couldn’t do any better. The baby’s cries clawed at already taut nerves.

“Kindly keep that baby quiet, would you?” Len wasn’t sure who’d said that; painful as the baby’s shrieking was, he felt a fleeting sympathy for the mother.

“Do something,” Nick snapped at his wife.

“I’m trying,” Kelly said, glaring back at him with a hurt look.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Nick said, and stalked outside, letting the door slam in his wake.

“We need information,” Len pressed Kemper again.

“At least give us an idea how much longer it could be,” Matt added. “In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

Kemper was clearly at a loss and for an instant Len felt sympathy for him, too, but he felt even worse for himself. He’d been looking forward to this night for weeks. He wanted it to be the most beautiful and romantic evening of his life. Instead, he’d probably be spending it in this train station somewhere in New Hampshire.

Kemper raised his hands to quiet the murmurs of discontent. “I’ll make a few phone calls and see what I can find out.”

“You should have done that long before now,” Matt said irritably.

Len was in full agreement. This damned waiting had gone on long enough. The minute he had a definite answer, he’d call Amy again. Even if he didn’t have an answer, he was phoning Amy. He needed to hear the sound of her voice, needed to know this nightmare would soon be over and they’d be together—if not for Christmas, then soon.

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