Christmas in Evergreen Tidings of Joy - Nancy Naigle
Chapter One
Way up north, nestled in the heart of Vermont, there’s a little town called Evergreen. Some say it’s so far north that on a clear day you might be able to catch a glimpse of Santa’s workshop in the North Pole.
Evergreen beckons tourists from all over. Many come just to see its famous magical snow globe that sits in a place of honor in the Chris Kringle Kitchen, owned by Joe and Carol Shaw. People come from far and wide to give that snow globe a good shake and make their wish, then drop a letter to Santa in the big red mailbox in the middle of town square. If they’re lucky, they might even catch a glimpse of the old red truck, decorated with garland and bows, delivering Christmas trees to the locals.
A winter wonderland of sorts, most any winter day you’ll find Evergreenians skating on the pond as the Evergreen Express, appropriately numbered 1225, brings new visitors from the city to town for a proper dose of holiday cheer.
Only five passenger cars long, the train rides sold out well in advance. And although most of the people boarding the Evergreen Express in New York City this morning were visitors eager to see if all the hype about the small town was for real, Ben Baxter was just trying to get back home.
The bright red Evergreen Express stood out against the other trains in the station.
Ben grasped the shiny brass rail and climbed aboard. As he walked down the aisle to choose a seat, he noticed a pretty blonde in a burgundy sweater taking pictures of the inside of the train so enthusiastically he could almost hear “Deck the Halls” playing inside her head.
Thoroughly enjoying herself, she leaned back to get a better angle of one of the wreaths. She clicked off another picture with her smartphone, probably posting it to social media right now. Tap-taptap-tap-tap. She looked pleased with herself, and her smile pleased him.
Fresh garland draped the interior of the train from end-to-end above the windows, leaving the scent of fresh pine hanging in the air. Twinkling white lights reflected in the red-and-gold Christmas ornaments. Festive. Beautiful. Every detail had been addressed, right down to a cheery red velvet bow at the end of each aisle of seats in the historic train. The Evergreen Express could probably even tempt Scrooge out of a bad day.
The train, over one hundred years old, had been restored to its original glory about fifteen years ago. Ben could still remember the weekly news reports about the project. The tongue and groove two-inch wooden plank flooring had been refinished by hand, one board at a time. It’d been a painstaking process, but even today the pine that lined the walls gleamed as if it were brand new. The original bench seats, positioned face-to-face from the days when the train had traveled in both directions on the same track, had been reinstalled, but thankfully they’d chosen to update them to add a little cushion for the guests.
For a split second, Ben considered sitting across from the perky blonde, but instead he turned and took a seat a couple of rows forward, facing the direction the train would be running.
Ben glanced across the station at the other trains lined up waiting for passengers. He wondered why someone hadn’t taken the initiative to attempt some type of nod to the holiday on any of the other trains. Not a wreath or a bow to be found. They seemed quite bah humbug sitting there, void of colorful decorations.
He considered himself lucky to be aboard the 1225 to Evergreen this morning. He slid a hardcover novel from his briefcase, put on his glasses, and settled in to pass the time on the nearly six-hour ride.
“All Aboard for Evergreen, Vermont!” The announcement boomed with authority across the platform.
And with that, the train whistle blew, and the train lurched and pulled away from Penn Station right on time, headed for the snowy hills of Vermont. Through the city and suburbs there wasn’t much to see, but the closer they got to Vermont, the prettier it became.
Ben lowered his book for a moment, letting his imagination wander while enjoying the view. The clickety-clack of the wheels on the tracks changed pitch as they entered the tunnel. In the darkness, the festive lights seemed even more magical.
On the other side, tall pine trees laden with snow seemed to curtsey along both sides of the tracks, a welcome sign of what was