The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [68]
The baby cried again. Matt clenched his fists and tried to hold on to his patience. The infant wasn’t the only irritation, either. A little girl, five or so, was standing on the seat in front of his, staring at him.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Scrooge.”
“My name’s Kate.”
“Shouldn’t you be sitting down, Kate?” he asked pointedly, hoping the kid’s mother heard him and took action. She didn’t.
“It’s going to be Christmas tomorrow,” she said, ignoring his question.
“So I hear.” He attempted to look busy, too busy to be bothered.
The kid didn’t take the hint.
“Santa Claus is coming to Grandma’s house.”
“Wonderful.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to stare?”
“No.” The kid flashed him an easy smile. “I can read.”
“Good for you.”
“Do you want me to read you How the Grinch Stole Christmas? It’s my favorite book.”
“No.”
An elderly black couple sat across the aisle from him. The woman scowled disapprovingly, her censure at his attitude toward the kid obvious. “Why don’t you read to her?” Matt suggested, motioning to the woman. “I’ve got work to do.”
“You’re working?” shrieked Kate-the-pest.
“Yes,” came his curt reply, “or trying to.” He couldn’t get any blunter than that.
“Can I read you my story?” Kate asked the biddy across the aisle from him. Matt flashed the old woman a grin. Served her right. Let her deal with the kid. All Matt wanted was a few moments’ peace and quiet while he mulled over what was going to happen once he got home.
Some kind of commotion went on in front of him. The little girl whimpered, and he felt a sense of righteousness. Kate’s mother had apparently put her foot down when the kid tried to climb out of her seat. Good, now maybe she’d leave him and everyone else alone. If he’d been smart he would have pretended he was asleep like the man sitting next to him.
“Mom said I have to stay in my seat,” Kate said, tears glistening as she peered over the cushion at him. All he could see was her watery blue eyes and the top of her head with a fancy red bow.
Matt ignored her.
“Santa’s going to bring me a—”
“Listen, kid, I don’t care what Santa’s bringing you. I’ve got work to do and I don’t have time to chat with you. Now kindly turn around and stop bothering me.”
Kate frowned at him, then plunked herself back in her seat and started crying.
Several people condemned him with their eyes, not that it concerned Matt. If they wanted to entertain the kid, fine, but he wanted no part of it. He had more important things on his mind than what Santa was bringing a spoiled little brat with no manners.
The train had been stopped for about five minutes. “Where are we now?” Kelly asked, gently rocking Brittany in her arms. The baby had fussed the entire time they’d been on the train. Nothing Kelly did calmed her. She wasn’t hungry; her diaper was clean. Kelly wondered if she might be teething. A mother was supposed to know these things, but Kelly could only speculate.
It helped that the train was becoming less crowded. With the storm, people seemed to be short-tempered and impatient. The guy who looked like a salesman was the worst; in fact, he was downright rude. She felt sorry for Kate and her mother. Kelly appreciated what it must be like traveling alone with a youngster. She’d never be able to do this without Nick. Frankly, she didn’t know how anyone could travel with a baby and no one to help. An infant required so much stuff. It took hours just to organize and pack it all.
“According to the sign, we’re in Abbott, New Hampshire,” Nick informed her.
Kelly glanced out the window, through the still-falling snow. “Oh, Nick, look! This is one of those old-fashioned stations.” The redbrick depot had a raised platform with several benches tucked protectively against the side, shielded from the snow by the roof’s overhang. A ticket window faced the tracks and another window with many