The Rebel by Tess Thompson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Novel Title: The Rebel
- Author: Tess Thompson
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
On a frosty morning in early December, the train I’d taken from the east
rounded the last corner before Emerson Pass. I breathed a sigh of
relief. This was the last stop on a long journey home. My stomach
fluttered with excitement. I would see my family at last. Perhaps even Jack
would be there to greet me. At the thought of Jack, I pulled my compact from
my purse to check my lipstick. Bright red, as was the fashion, and none on
my teeth. My hair looked as good as was possible after many days on the
train. I stuck a pin through my derby hat to secure it better and then put my
The train shuddered to a stop. I rubbed my finger against the glass,
making a circle with which to peer out to the platform. What I saw surprised
me a great deal. Or should I say, what I didn’t see? No one was there. Not a
single person stood on the platform. No bodies milled about inside where it
was most likely warmer, either.
Where was my family? When one of our own returned from an adventure,
the Barnes family came to welcome them home. I’d expected that all of my
six siblings, their spouses, and my nieces and nephews would be there,
waving and smiling, my mother crying with joy at seeing me. We were a
large, messy clan that had weathered many trials and celebrated many joyous
occasions. My coming home after four years at university was supposed to be
one of the latter. Instead, the station seemed strangely still, as if it had been
frozen in time, as in a fairy tale. The fir and pine trees were covered with a
fresh layer of snow. Ice made the leafless aspens look like finely spun sugar.
From the look of the white sky, snow would soon fall again.
A shiver of worry sped up my spine. Was something wrong?
There was no one else in the passenger car. Not many ventured this far
into the Rockies, and most had gotten off at the stop for Louisville, a bigger
town at a much lower elevation than Emerson Pass.
I took my valise from under my seat and steadied myself. There was
nothing wrong. They’d gotten the date and time mixed up. That was all.
Perhaps they thought I was coming home tomorrow? Today, the seventh of
December, was a Sunday. Had my mother been confused, thinking I would
come Monday instead? She was not one to get details muddled, especially
when the baby of the family returned back to the nest.
What if someone was sick in the family?
Please, God, don’t let it be Papa.
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