"Of course not, you're not that sort of man." She shook her head and looked away.

Tom gripped her shoulder and turned her toward him. "It's not that sort of relationship because I don't love her. There's only one woman I've ever loved, Ellie, you know that."

"Tom, don't do this to me, please."

"So why did you come out here? It's freezing."

"I... I don't know."

"I don't believe that. I think you know exactly why."

"Maybe I do."

"Nothing in my life has been as good as what we had. Nothing! I've been searching all these years for something."

"I've been looking too," she said, "and not finding it."

"It can't be just a coincidence that we're both on this train. It's an omen, don't you see? It was meant to be."

"You sound like Misty. Love doesn't work that way. It's not some magic fairy dust. It's something you work at every day."

As she flicked a strand of hair out of her face and the full force of those emerald eyes fell on him, it might as well have been ten years prior or a decade hence, it didn't really matter to Tom. In the wash of lamplight, the woman's gaze was as hypnotic and intoxicating a thing as Tom had ever experienced. He thought he was taking a step back, but he actually moved closer to her. He watched his hand slide another errant strand of auburn hair out of her face. Then his fingers moved to her cheek and gently rubbed it. She didn't move to stop him.

"Well, maybe it's time I started to work at it."

He took a deep breath, glanced up for a second, and his lips parted and his gaze held on the figure walking his way. He shook his head in disbelief, because this was the second shock that he'd received in a little over twenty-four hours. How many more thunderbolts could he survive?

It was Lelia Gibson striding toward the train, a caravan of redcaps in her wake, tugging along her prodigious baggage. The woman was incapable of traveling light. It was one of her fortes, packing with indefatigable vigor, each outfit planned for a particular segment of the journey, each accessory judged with an eye as critical as the ablest general plotting battle tactics.

Tom took a step back from Eleanor, who'd closed her eyes, her lips searching for Tom's but not finding them.

"Ellie."

She opened her eyes, slid a hand across his cheek as he took another step back.

"What's wrong?"

"Really quick, think of the worst bit of timing you've ever had in your life."

"What?" she asked in a bewildered tone.

He glanced once more at Lelia. She was closing in. He wasn't sure if she'd seen him yet, but it was only a matter of time. She obviously knew he was on this train.

"The worst piece of timing in your life. Think of it right now. Okay? Please?"

"I actually think this is pretty bad timing on your part," she said in a very annoyed tone.

"Just think of it!"

"Okay, okay."

"Have you thought of it?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Yes, so?"

He let out his breath. "So, I just beat it. I just crushed it, in fact. I'm the undisputed king of bad timing." He pointed toward Lelia. "My sort of girlfriend in LA? That's her. Lelia Gibson."

Eleanor swung around and stared at the approaching group.

"Did you know she was boarding the train?"

"No, that one qualifies in the total, heart-stopping, shock-of-a-lifetime category."

Eleanor folded her arms across her chest and moved away from Tom. It was then that Lelia saw Tom and waved frantically. As she barreled down on her target, Eleanor retreated even more, until she was just a shadow in the darkness. As Tom watched her recede, it was as though all the blood in his body was going with her. He turned to face Lelia. He took a little solace in the fact that things certainly couldn't get any worse. Yet indeed they could.

chapter twenty-three.

The National Weather Service issued advisories for the far Midwest and Southwest regions, citing the potential of a severe winter storm that was making its way south down the spine of the Rocky Mountains. The full fury of the tempest it would become was considerably masked by adjacent meteorological conditions in the Pacific Northwest, ameliorating safeguards that would fall away as the weather system moved through Wyoming and then into Colorado. About the time the storm suddenly unleashed all its might on the border between Colorado and New Mexico, it would be too late to issue any more warnings. All that would be left would be to read about the land squall of the decade in the newspapers and recount it to future generations in hushed tones.

Herrick Higgins had taken advantage of the long stop in Kansas City to see the engineer. They'd discussed the weather reports coming in from Amtrak Central Dispatch. Though Higgins was no longer employed by the rail service, there was no one who worked pa.s.senger trains for a living who wouldn't welcome his wise input and counsel. He and the engineer were friends going back twenty years, and when Higgins told him he didn't like the way things were shaping up, particularly since they were heading into Colorado, the engineer took serious note. Higgins also told the man to pack on as much fuel as possible.

"We'll all keep our eyes open," said the engineer. "As soon as we hear anything new from dispatch, I'll let you know."

Higgins went back and sat in the lounge car as the train finished taking on supplies and pa.s.sengers. Over the course of his long career, he'd seen just about every possible equipment foible, personnel miscue, and weather mishap. He'd learned to go with his instincts in those circ.u.mstances, instincts honed from over thirty years of doing the job. He didn't like the way the sky looked, and the way the wind was blowing. He didn't like the sharp angle of the snowfall. He kept staring out the window at a sky that seemed to promise nothing except trouble.

"What are you doing here, Lelia?"

"Is that all I get after traveling all this way to surprise you?" she said. "Do you know you can't get a direct flight from LA to Kansas City? I mean, what is that about? I had to fly through Denver. It was a nightmare. And all I get is 'What are you doing here, Lelia?'" She gave him a hug and a kiss, and he felt extreme guilt, for they had a relationship after all. They were dating, sort of; they were going to Tahoe for Christmas. Rediscovering Eleanor had caused him to nearly forget all that.

"I'm sorry, it's just a shock seeing you. I thought you might have called it quits after the Erik episode."

"Don't be silly. Why don't we get on the train and talk about it. I'll fill you in on everything."

"Everything, what everything?"

"Later, on the train, after I unpack." She gave her ticket to one of the redcaps and told them to get her bags on board. She tipped them generously with both money and a dazzling smile. She was dressed in cla.s.sic Hollywood, meaning expensive and eye-catching. The poor Kansas City redcap battalion would never be the same, Tom felt certain. They probably would have paid her her, just for the privilege of toting her matching Gucci leather bags and being in her company.

As they walked toward the Chief, Lelia slipped her arm around Tom's. "You know, I've never been on a train before. And for the holidays too, it's kind of nice. Do they have ma.s.sage services on board? And perhaps a beauty parlor, like they do on cruise ships?"

"Uh, that would be a no. They do have a checkerboard in each sleeper unit, but you have to bring your own checkers. Oh, and they do have lots and lots of liquor, and let me tell you right now, that's a wonderful thing."

"Well, maybe you can give me one - a ma.s.sage, I mean. Oh, I brought the naughty teddy," she added coyly, leaning up against him.

As they were boarding, Tom saw Eleanor out of the corner of his eye. She was watching them both closely, and for one of the few times in his life he felt totally and completely helpless. They stepped on the Chief, said goodbye to Missouri, and the train slid into the flat farmland of Kansas as the darkness deepened.

Lelia set up in her sleeper compartment, but not without some complaints as to its lack of s.p.a.ciousness and queries as to whether there were any rental units with mahogany paneling and possibly access to a private valet. A hopelessly smitten Barry, the sleeping-car attendant, flexed his neck muscles and puffed out his chest and did a few arm curls with her luggage, while regaling the woman with train factoids. However, Lelia remained unimpressed and suitably aloof. She did intimate that if he could somehow scrounge up a proper tea service and provide all meals in her room, she might favor him with a smile now and then and also perhaps show him some calf and the flash of a well-defined thigh. And so off Barry went, determined to accomplish all that she had asked.

Tom came by her compartment after she'd settled in. "I like what you've done with the place," he said, smiling.

"Where are you staying?"

"In the poor person's sleeper down the road a piece."

"Well, you can sleep in here tonight."

He sat down on the edge of the turned-down bed. "Look, I have something to tell you. I didn't think it would be like this - I mean, on the train and all - but I might as well tell you now."

She put her hand over his. "I think I know what you're going to say. That's the reason I flew all this way."

"It is?" How could she have known about Eleanor How could she have known about Eleanor? "Why are are you here?" he asked. you here?" he asked.

"After what happened with Erik I was furious with you, I really was. But it was nice too. I mean, your being jealous and all."

"Thanks, I'm glad I could do that for you."

"Well, I started to think things through. We've been together awhile now, and decisions have to be made."

"I couldn't agree with you more."

"And I've made my decision, and I didn't want to tell you over the phone and I couldn't wait until Christmas, because this might change our plans for the holidays."

Tom sighed in relief. "I really think we're on the same page here."

She leaned forward and put both hands on his shoulders. "Tom, I want to get married."

All he could say was, "To who?"

"To you, silly, and I think it's to whom whom. But you're the writer."

"You want to marry me? You flew all this way to tell me you want to get married? To me?" He rose in his agitation and paced in his anxiety, and the result was that Tom banged his head against the large window like a bird desperately trying to escape confinement.

"Lelia, this is a long way from seeing each other a few times a year for fun and games. This is for a lifetime, and every day, good times and bad."

"Don't you think I know that?"

He pointed at her. "Is this some new cla.s.s you're taking? Some New Age psychedelic voodoo parapsychology c.r.a.p?"

She stood up. "No, this is about me. I'm not getting any younger. My biological clock isn't just ticking, its alarm is ringing, and I've hit the snooze b.u.t.ton so many times it doesn't work anymore."

"You're saying you want to have children?"

"Yes, don't you?"

"You're asking me if I want children?"

"Are you deaf? Yes!"

"How do I know if I want kids? I didn't know you were going to come and propose tonight. Let a guy catch his breath, will you."

She put her arms around him. "I know it's all of a sudden. But we're good together, Tom, really good. I've got plenty of money and we can do whatever we want. We'll travel, play, enjoy good times, and then settle down and have a huge family."

"Huge? Huge family? How huge?"

"Well, I'm one of eight."

He looked at her pet.i.te frame. "You work out six hours a day. Are you saying you're going to let your body bloat up eight times? Even if we s.p.a.ce it out a kid every two years, you'll be sixty by the time the last bundle of joy pops out, Lelia."

"Well, I thought we'd have one the regular way and adopt the rest - you know, all at once. Sort of an instant family."

He put a hand through his hair with an impulse to tear most of it out. "I can't believe this."

"What, did you think we were just going to do our little bi-coastal thing until one of us died? That was not a relationship of permanence, Tom."

"Agreed. It wasn't permanent."

"I know this is a lot to throw at you. Take your time and think about it. It's two days to LA. Just think about it, and then let me know."

"In two days? You want me to let you know if I want to get married and have eight kids, in two days?"

"Well, depending on your answer, we'll have a lot to do, so, yes, promptness would be appreciated."

She kissed him on the cheek and took his hands in hers. "Now, what were you going to tell me?"

He just stared at her open-mouthed, unable to speak, since no words were strong enough to survive the acid eating through his throat. They just melted like snow on a griddle. He turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

He found his voice. "To the bar."

"When will you be back?"

"Two days."