Читать книгу Stranded With Santa - Janet Tronstad - Страница 12

Andy wanted a peanut butter sandwich.

“Just let me be sure the oil lamp is filled and I’ll make you one,” Jenny said as she watched the tail-lights of the postal truck pull away. The red lights were the only bright thing in the dark gray of the afternoon. A layer of snow had already fallen and she could see the tire tracks of the truck.

Jenny had made a mental list over a week ago of the things she needed to do to prepare for a winter storm. Making sure the lamp was full was the first one. The other was to be sure the curtains were drawn on all the windows so that there was a little extra insulation. Delores had insisted Jenny buy a case of beans and another of assorted soup when she moved here. The older woman had also urged her to always keep the propane tank that fed the furnace at least half-full.

“Heat and food is all you really need,” the older woman had said. “If your pipes freeze you’ll more than likely still have snow around that you can melt for water. Not that it’s as pure as you might think. I’d get some water filters if I were you and run the melted water through them. Outside of that, keep healthy and you’ll do fine.”

Jenny didn’t feel as if she was doing fine. She hadn’t been able to get any filters for water. But the small stove in the kitchen fed off the propane tank out back so she could use that to boil snow water if necessary.

Just keep focused, she reminded herself. Like Delores had said, she’d do just fine.

Ten minutes passed before she realized Delores was wrong. Jenny wasn’t fine. She’d made one big mistake. The number one rule of surviving a blizzard with your children was to actually have your children inside the house with you. Andy was here, but Lisa was gone.

Jenny had searched every room in the house twice before Andy confessed that Lisa had sneaked out the door in the laundry room and hid in the back of the postal truck. Jenny was accustomed to watching Andy. He was the one who got into trouble and scrapes. She never had to worry about Lisa.

“We got a bet going,” Andy explained without a trace of worry. “Lisa’s gonna go see all about Santa and let me know.”

Jenny’s heart stopped. “You mean she went off alone!”

“The Lightning man’s with her,” Andy said calmly. “He’ll take care of her until they get to Santa’s workshop.”

“But Mr. Lucas is going to Las Vegas!”

“Not until he takes my letter to the North Pole. He promised.”

Jenny was speechless. Her daughter had run off with some cowboy on his way to Vegas, and she was only eight years old.

“He’ll bring her right back,” Jenny promised herself aloud. The man had to bring her back. “When he sees her in the truck, he’ll bring her right back.”

But what if he didn’t see her? Lisa was obviously hidden or she’d be back already unless he was—Jenny stopped herself. No, she wouldn’t even think that. She was sure he wasn’t that kind of a person.

Jenny looked out the window. The tracks left by the postal truck had been filled in with new snow.

He’s not going to see Lisa in time to bring her back, Jenny thought to herself in despair. Oh, she supposed he would leave her with Dr. Norris—when Jenny thought about it she had no worries that the man would actually want to take Lisa to Las Vegas with him—but still, Lisa would miss Christmas. Lisa had never been away from home at Christmas before.

Jenny looked around. She wished now that she had swallowed her pride and asked someone to bring them a Christmas tree from town. She had told herself it would be okay for this Christmas to be plain. Her children would understand and share her gratefulness that they had a new home. They’d hang their stockings and read the Christmas story and that would be enough.

But she was wrong. Lisa wouldn’t have come up with a ridiculous bet like this for Andy if they had both been busy decorating a tree or putting gumdrops on cookies. Her children needed Christmas and she had failed to give it to them.

Zach swore under his breath. The snow blew thicker every minute. And enough of it covered the road so that he couldn’t make out the ruts. He was lucky to keep this tin can of a postal truck on the gravel road.