I was grateful that Melinda didn’t pretend to be preoccupied with work on the early-morning train ride back west and north. Instead, she held my hand as we watched the countryside flicker by, the towns becoming increasingly smaller and farther apart. The white steeples of New England villages flew past as the train hit full speed through the rural forests and valleys.

When at long last it slowed to its final stop in the state, Harlow’s town station, I was feeling almost back ...