Arthor: Lisa T. Bergren
As the locomotive reached the train station, I strained so hard to see my folks that my eyes hurt. I looked left and right, but the town was as sleepy as always. It wasn’t as if I had to search for them among throngs—I saw no one but old Clifford Miller across the street, climbing into his wagon with some effort, and Susan Johnson entering her hardware store.
Likely just late, I decided, making my way forward between the seats before we had fully stopped, then climbing down the steep steps to the wooden platform.
“Miss?” asked a man’s voice behind me.
I turned in surprise, holding my hand up to my old hat as I felt a pin slip, and then—embarrassed that I’d forgotten to even look for it—took my valise from the conductor’s hand. “Thank you.”