The one time he had tried to call her had been unsuccessful. Wherever he was stationed was not conducive to phone calls and the connection had been a long stretch of static before the line disconnected, neither hearing the other speak. Now six days had passed with no word from Miller, the longest time he’d failed to get in touch with her. Cambrie kept busy with her project and had even made some progress with fundraising for the care packages. “The Women’s Choir has donated three boxes of goodies for your military man,” Mrs. Ginnity announced after walking into the library. “Place them in the volunteer office, young man,” she said to Greg, a member of the Teen Readers Group, drafted by the old woman to carry her packages. Cambrie laughed at how much the other woman acted like a drill sergeant, watching intently as Greg hauled the boxes into the rear office. “That’s wonderful. Be sure to thank them for me,” Cambrie replied before returning to the draft of her report for the Board of Directors outlining her progress with the grant program.
