by Linda Fallon
“Goodbye!” she shouted. “Have a safe trip!” She continued to run, moving closer and closer. Then, to O’Hara’s amazement, she offered her hand. Running, eyes bright, she offered him her hand.
He swung down and reached out, just as the train picked up speed. Daisy’s fingers barely trailed over his palm, before the speed of the train pulled him away from her.
“Goodbye!” she shouted again.
O’Hara watched, his hand still out, palm up. She had barely touched him, and yet the message had been clear. Cretin. You never did kiss me.
He stood on the steps, the breeze the movement of the train made whipping his short hair and the tail end of his jacket about. When he could no longer see Daisy, he returned to his seat and plopped down with a strange sort of satisfaction singing through his bones.
“What did she say?” Lionel asked.
“Goodbye.”
“And that has you grinning like the cat who ate the canary?”
“She also wished us a safe trip.”
Hugh grunted. Lionel sighed.
“You know,” O’Hara said as he watched the Georgia landscape fly past. “Perhaps I was hasty in dismissing Plummerville as an unpleasant place. It does have its charm. I think I might be persuaded to visit again.”
“What made you change your mind?” Lionel asked.
“Nothing in particular.”
“Cretin,” Lionel added softly.
O’Hara shook a censuring finger at his friend. “You aren’t supposed to do that!”
Lionel smiled and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, and O’Hara stared out the window.
Yes, he’d definitely be back.
Shades of Winter
© 2003 Linda Winstead Jones
ISBN: 9780821774328
ZEBRA BOOKS
Ed♥n