Leaving him to remember that it had always been like that with them: electric, dangerous as an exposed wire.
Now it felt more dangerous than ever.
Gabby had always loved the fact that, despite being a small town, Bethlehem Springs had a train station. As a kid, she’d come here with her grandfather to watch the trains. As a restless adolescent, hanging around the station had given her a sense of being able to leave at a moment’s notice, to get to the bright lights of Chicago or New York or, more realistically, Cleveland or Columbus. She’d gone to and from college on the train. And when everything had blown up in Bethlehem Springs that horrible summer after her sophomore year, she’d packed her things and taken the train to start a new life.
Today, though, she wasn’t leaving; she was staying, getting more tied down and domesticated. It had been eighteen months since she’d seen her half brother at her mother’s funeral, and they hadn’t exactly gotten along. He’d been understandably grief stricken about losing their mother and upset at the prospect of going to live with his father, and he’d begged Gabby to let him come live with her.
But at twenty-one and pregnant with a baby she’d in no way planned for, she hadn’t felt qualified to become the guardian of a brother she barely knew. Besides, surely Jacob’s father would do a better job taking care of him.
The father, unfortunately, hadn’t supervised Jacob well. Her brother had gotten into trouble for some minor vandalism, and rather than help him work through it, his father had shipped the poor kid off to military school. Jacob had just completed his first term, and somehow, he was coming to spend the Christmas break with Nana rather than going back to California to stay with his father. He was to arrive on the 6:00 a.m. train.
The platform was spooky-dark, with mist rising from the ground and clouds ominous overhead. Huddled in her heavy parka on the outdoor platform, she wished she’d thought to bring mittens and a hat.
Maybe she should’ve borrowed a dog from Reese’s kennels, too, because it was awfully creepy here. Lots of rustling in the bushes that lined the far edge of the platform. Loud, screeching noises of what might have been an owl on the hunt.
Another car arrived at the parking lot beside the platform. A man, solo, got out.
Chills shook Gabby’s already shivering body. It was still black darkness outside, and according to her app, the train wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes. Running late, like so many passenger trains did these days.
The man sat down on a bench at the other end of the platform. That was weird, right? If he’d been a normal person, he’d have come over here and said hello.
But maybe he just wasn’t sociable. He carried no luggage that she could see, so he must be picking someone up. Maybe he just treasured his last minutes of solitude.
He was looking in her direction.
Maybe he was a criminal who was going to cut her into a million pieces and throw her onto the train tracks.
“Gabby?”
Relief made her limbs go limp. It was Reese, and he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She stood to greet him, her heart still pounding just as hard as when she’d thought he was a dangerous stranger.
“I’m here to pick up a boy who’s starting our program. His mom works the night shift and won’t be off for another hour, so I offered to pick him up for her.”
Above and beyond. That didn’t surprise her; Reese had always gone the extra mile without thinking of his own convenience. “I’m here for my brother,” she told him, even though he hadn’t asked. But talking seemed to calm her nerves, at least a little. “He’s staying with me and Nana and...me and Nana. For the holidays.” She should have just casually mentioned Izzy—Oh, didn’t you know I have a baby?—but she didn’t, even though this would be Izzy’s first Christmas, and Gabby hoped to make it special. Keeping Izzy’s existence a secret from Reese was a cowardly thing, and fruitless—he’d find out soon enough—but she was pretty sure it would upset him, and at 6:00 a.m., she couldn’t handle that. “I thought there’d be coffee here. Didn’t the station used to be open, with a little concession area?”
“Hard times.” He nodded at the steaming cup he was carrying. “I’d offer you some of mine, but...”
He didn’t have to say it. There had been a time when sharing a beverage would have been as normal as breathing, but that time was past. “It’s okay,” she said. “Good for me. I’m too addicted.”
“Where’s your brother coming from?” He frowned down at her. “Did I even know you had a brother?”
“Probably not,” she said. “He’s my half brother, and I didn’t really know him, didn’t talk about him much. He grew up with Mom.” She was over her resentment about that, mostly. Mom had raised her son—well, she’d done the best she could—but she’d dumped her daughter on Nana without a backward glance. “He’s been at Smith Military Academy since September.”
“That’s where the kid I’m picking up—” he gestured toward the tracks “—that’s where he’s coming from, too.”
A whistle, high and mournful, blew their way on a gust of cold wind, and then a light appeared way down the track. A moment later the train’s engine was audible. Both Reese and Gabby stood.
Dawn was just lightening the edge of the sky when two boys disembarked from the train, the only passengers to do so. As they put down their duffels, stretched and looked around, the train pulled away again.
“Hey, Mr. Markowski!” The blond boy stuck out a hand in polite greeting.
“Connor. Hope you had a good trip. This is Gabby Hanks.”
“Hi,” Gabby said with a quick smile for the boy, but she was distracted with staring at her brother. He’d shot up several inches since she’d last seen him, and young as he was, it looked like he needed a shave. Dark circles beneath his eyes and a pallor to his skin made him look less than healthy.
Maybe it was just that it was early. Teens didn’t do well with early.
She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Jacob.”
He didn’t hug her back, but he submitted to her affection, probably the best you could expect from a fifteen-year-old boy.
They all turned and walked toward the parking lot. Each of the boys carried a small duffel bag, and they wore khakis and heavy wool jackets, identical. Must have been some kind of civilian uniform from the military academy.
“So you two know each other?” Reese asked, clearly trying to make conversation.
“Yeah. Some. He’s a year ahead of me.” Connor looked more than a year younger than Jacob, but then, kids developed at such different rates.
As Gabby walked along, half beside and half behind her silent brother, the reality of what the next few weeks would be like started to settle in.
Nana was sick. She was insistent that she could take care of Izzy, but even if that turned out to be the case, she wouldn’t have much energy left to entertain Jacob. Gabby herself would be busy working full-time. And anyway, a fifteen-year-old boy didn’t want to hang out with his grandmother and his older half sister whom he barely knew.
The wireless connection in Nana’s house was spotty at best, so the internet as entertainment couldn’t be counted on.
Watching Reese talk easily with the other boy, Gabby got a brainstorm, the obvious solution. “Go ahead and get in the car,” she said to Jacob, tossing him the keys. “I’m going to talk to Reese for a