by Rachel Fahnel

Created on: December 08, 2010

Phoebe loved train rides. This was her third and she found it to be a comfortable way to travel-no danger of crashing down from a great height, and, as far as she could see, little chance of being taken over by hostile persons. After all, who hi-jacks a vehicle that must run on tracks?

But, as her watch told her it was getting closer and closer to five pm, she just wished it was over. She wanted to be there.

Several of the magazines she’d brought had been read cover to cover, twice. The crocheting lay discarded on the tray in front of her. She checked her watch again-approximately two minutes since the last time she looked.

An elderly woman walked past, smiling down kindly at her. Phoebe smiled back, but only briefly. She was squirming in her seat.

Ten minutes-and six watch checks later-the woman returned and stopped at Phoebe’s seat. “May I?” she asked, gesturing to the seat next to Phoebe’s.

“Oh yes,” Phoebe answered warmly, though she was still fidgeting.

“Where are you headed?” the woman asked.

“Superior, Montana. I get off the train at Whitefish. What about you?”

“Idaho. You’re nearly the end of your journey then, aren’t you young lady?”

“Yes. I’m supposed to be there between five and five-twenty pm.”

“And let me guess: as far as you’ve traveled, as long as you’ve been on this train, the last hour before you arrive is feeling like it’s going more slowly that the whole rest of the trip.”

Phoebe looked at her, at warm blue eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses and skin creased both with laugh and worry lines. “Yes,” Phoebe answered simply.

The woman put out her hand. “I’m Naomi.”

“Phoebe,” Phoebe said, accepting the handshake.

“Tell me, Phoebe, what awaits you in Superior?”

Phoebe looked down at her left hand. “I’m trading this in for the permanent kind.”

Naomi smiled. “Ah, a blushing bride. When is your wedding?”

“Two pm tomorrow afternoon.”

“No wonder you feel like getting out and pushing. When I married my Jeffrey, the day couldn’t come fast enough.” She stopped and laughed. “And when it finally arrived-I had to wait for him to come home from the war-I was so nervous I lost my breakfast.”

“It’s been four months since I’ve seen my fiancé. How long did you wait for Jeffrey?”

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