“Mama, he was being kind. He was handsome too, wasn’t he?” At seven, Chantal had decided she needed a new father since hers had abandoned them, and the ever-growing mountain of medical bills when Chantal was diagnosed.
“I suppose so, but I’ve told you, more than once, I don’t have time for men.” He had been handsome. Tall, probably over six feet, with dark hair and eyes. His jacket looked expensive. He was probably one of the tourists on the train rather than a contestant. She pushed his image out of her head. She was here to win the prize, not get caught up in a man, no matter how handsome.
Gosh, she felt like a Grinch today. She needed to lighten up. This trip was dual purpose. A free vacation and a chance to win enough money to pay off Chantal’s medical bills. As a receptionist at a veterinary clinic, she didn’t make nearly enough to live on and pay down their massive debts. If they won, they’d pay off their debts and donate any leftovers to the Cerebral Palsy Association. She’d have been lost without their guidance and support.
“Here it is!” Chantal almost wobbled over in her excitement when her crutches tangled together.
Joy forced a smile. “Careful there.” She barely resisted the urge to steady her daughter. Instead, she handed over the digital key to their accommodations so Chantal could unlock the door. She held her breath as Chantal slid her arm out of the crutch’s cuff, rested the crutch against the wall, and stuck the key in the slot. Joy clenched her fists to keep them still. She’d never get used to Chantal taking even the smallest risk.
Chantal pushed open the door and gasped. “Mama, it’s beautiful.” She grabbed her crutch and stumbled inside, oohing and aahing as she went.
Joy followed and eased the door shut behind them. She gasped in delight equal to her daughter’s. She’d been expecting a utilitarian room with nothing more than bunk beds. This was the height of luxury. Decorated in cream and navy, it was practically a suite. Over in the corner, there was a table with two chairs. There was a bar fridge, and a pair of plush twin beds piled high with pillows. There was even a tiny bathroom with a shower. “Wow. This is amazing.”
There was a tall thin tree lit with blazing multi-color lights in one corner. A garland of silver stars hung over the window. Outside, snow drifted down on the busy platform. It was a holiday dream.
Now, if only her dreams of winning this contest would come true. They could be free and clear…at least until the next disaster.
The bags they had sent ahead were set under the tree like presents. There was a cream-colored envelope with gold script on one of the beds. Joy picked it up and ran her fingernail under the seal.
Joy glanced at her snowman watch. “We better hurry if we’re going to make it to the meeting. Are you okay to move between the cars?” Maybe this trip was a mistake.
“Mo-om.” Chantal rolled her eyes like a teenager. She never called Joy Mom, she always called her Mama, just as Joy called her mother Mama. She must be annoyed to use Mom instead.
“Well then, we should go.” She studied the car list to figure out how many cars they had to pass through. They locked up and made their way forward.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a cheerful female voice boomed out of the intercom, “we’ll be underway momentarily.” As if on cue, the whistle blew, and the train gave the slightest lurch forward. Chantal cheered even as she wobbled.
“I’m so excited,” she blurted. “Christmas on a train.” Her laughter was contagious. “Can we readThe Polar Expresstonight?”
“Absolutely. I brought a different book for every night.” Reading together was a nightly ritual and blessing.
“Yay!”
Yes, she’d dragged books along. Several for Chantal and her e-reader was loaded with a dozen Christmas romances from the library. She couldn’t wait to dive into the one about being snowbound, though the thought of actually being trapped made her shudder.
The acceleration was slow and steady and, to Joy’s surprise, her daughter didn’t stumble once as they moved along, passing through accordion-fold links between cars. She couldn’t help but notice some passengers moving ahead of them, and others staying seated in the elegant dining car. Not everyone on the train was involved in the competition, like the troglodyte who had snapped at her earlier. He’d flat out said he paid to be here.
Okay, Joy, let it go. He’s in the past and you need to forgive and forget about his rudeness.
Joy’s emotions roiled like a churning sea. First elation that she might win and become debt free, second that she might fail, or Chantal might get injured. She decided to take the advice she repeatedly gave her child, reached for optimism, and shifted her fears to the back of her mind.
They entered the forward observation car where people filled every seat with a few left standing near the back. The car was elegant with oak and mahogany accents and shining brass trim. It was decorated with evergreen and ribbon swags, bright fairy lights and shining glass balls. It smelled faintly of peppermint and cocoa.
Just inside the coach’s door, a pretty blonde woman in scrubs stood beside an old man in the narrowest wheelchair Joy had ever seen. The man reminded her of Albert Einstein. It must be awful to maneuver a wheelchair on the train.Were they contestants?
At the far end, at the front of the car, a young woman dressed as Mrs. Claus stood behind a wooden podium. “Ah,” she called. “Here they are, our final contestants.”
Every head in the room turned toward them, and Joy wanted to slink into a corner for being late. She hated being in the spotlight. She was a complete and total introvert unless she was behind her desk at work or protecting her daughter.
“Here, take my seat.”
Joy turned toward the voice. The man who had stuck his nose into her argument stood and gestured to his chair.
“Go ahead, Chantal,” she said. Chantal wasn’t weak, but the short walk on a moving train hadn’t been the easiest for her. “Thank you, sir,” Joy said.
“Seth. Seth Mathison.” He raised one eyebrow as if waiting for Joy to provide her name. When she didn’t, he stepped aside so Chantal could sit. Joy leaned against the back wall and glanced out at the city slowly passing by through the enormous arched windows of the observation car. She couldn’t wait to be staring out at snow-covered mountains. She’d never seen snow before they arrived in Denver yesterday. The sight still thrilled her. Even the dirty, slushy city snow.
Seth leaned beside her. Not too close, but close enough she could just get a hint of his minty fresh breath and light spicy aftershave. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He was clean-shaven and wore jeans and a simple navy hoodie with a tiny logo she didn’t recognize. He looked casual and comfortable. Not like many of the others who seemed either excited or tense.
