Winter Longing Read Online Free Page A

terrible, cruel dream.
    But the sobs from inside Charlie’s office were too real, too raw.
    With a guttural, wounded cry of my own, I crumpled to the floor.
    I gritted my teeth as Patrice Murray sold two more boxes of Campfire Girl candy. I still couldn’t believe she’d stolen my spot outside the door to Tundra Foods, that she was down to a single box. I couldn’t believe I had to put up with her for seven more years. I looked down at my ten remaining boxes, then at the waning light. Patrice was going to win the digital camera given to the girl who sold all of her candy first.
    I looked up when I heard someone approach my table. “Oh, hey, Spencer.”
    “I need something sweet.”
    I reached for a box to hand to him.
    “I’ll take all ten boxes,” he said.

CHAPTER 3
     
    The hours crept by with an agonizing slowness. They were hours in which we heard nothing from my dad. The phone rang several times, but it was never the one call I craved.
    Lindsay sat beside me, holding my hand. “I’m sure he’s fine,” she said. “I bet your dad is with him now.”
    I nodded—I wanted desperately to believe in the determined truth of her words, though they were laced with doubt. “I wish they’d call.”
    “You know there’s no reception in huge parts of the park. The bears don’t have much use for cell phones.” She tried to smile.
    I knew she wanted to lighten the mood, like always. Like when her mom and dad fought. Like the time in seventh grade when I’d become convinced that Spencer liked Tia Vanderhugh.
    As night began to fall, Mom tried to send Lindsay home, but she wouldn’t budge. Spencer was one of her best friends, too. I ignored the fact that she grew quieter with each passing minute.
    The phone continued to ring, but still nothing. I felt so exhausted that it became difficult to move, and I laid my head in Lindsay’s lap. She ran her fingers absently through my long hair. I closed my eyes and focused on my mental image of Spencer bunking down in the woods for the night, keeping warm until help arrived. He was strong, resourceful. I had nothing to worry about. I mouthed the words a few times. “I have nothing to worry about.”
    Mom cooked dinner, but despite my determined confidence in Spencer’s safety, I had no appetite. I’d eat when I saw Spencer again, I told myself. I was only vaguely aware of Mom and Lindsay sitting at the kitchen table with their plates of spaghetti. The normalcy of this small gesture was comforting.
    We watched TV throughout the evening, but nothing much penetrated my thoughts. It was just something to stare at, a series of flickering lights and movement. The only thing that made it through the thick barrier around me was the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. It drove me crazy, so much so that if Mom hadn’t been in the room, I would have shattered it with my shoe.
    Lindsay sat in the recliner, and I nearly gave in to tears when I saw the worry darkening her lovely features.
    Lindsay couldn’t doubt, she just couldn’t.
    My brain began to reengage when the ten o’clock news came on.
    I lifted myself to a sitting position. “Turn it up.”
    Mom hesitated before complying.
    “Investigators are still determining the cause of a plane crash in Katmai National Park earlier today, but witnesses on the ground tell KTUU that the Piper Super Cub seemed to stall before slamming into the side of Dumpling Mountain.”
    The video cut to shots from a helicopter above the crash site. Thick fog covered the area. I scooted forward, straining to see any glimpse of Spencer.
    When the image on the screen finally changed, cutting through the fog and revealing what looked like a red wing bent at an impossible angle, Lindsay uttered a strangled sob. I ignored her, focusing on the screen, desperate for an image of hope.
    The anchor’s sudden reappearance on the TV startled me.
    “The names of the two individuals on board are being withheld until family members can be contacted, but we