Page 1 of Mine For The Winter

1

Author’s Note:

In the first book in this series, there’s a a reference to Kris having a wife and daughter. For the integrity of this story, those references have been removed and he has never been married or had a child.

“Mom! Hey Mom!”

Kelly Fraser looked up from the bill she’d been staring at, to see her eleven year old son run into the kitchen, his cheeks flushed. He was holding his skates, the ones that had cost an arm and half a leg because his coach had told her that Cole had promise as a hockey player, but he needed the right equipment.

And she was all for that. Even if it meant making savings elsewhere. She loved that kid fiercely, and would fight to the ends of the earth for him.

“What’s up?” she asked, turning the bills over so Cole couldn’t see them.

“My feet won’t fit in my skates.”

“What?” She frowned. “Are they broken?” Did hockey skates come with a guarantee? They were only three months old.

He shook his head. “I think I’ve grown again.”

Somehow she kept the smile playing on her lips, even though it was early in the morning and she hadn’t gotten home from work until two a.m. and the bills she was hiding on the kitchen table were just some of many.

“Come here, let me look.” She tried not to show her dismay. Her son didn’t need to take on her adult worries.

Cole sat down on the chair next to hers and put his feet out. There were holes in his socks and she was pretty sure it was the same pair he wore yesterday, but she was learning to fight her battles.

And not to sniff when his feet were too close. He wasn’t a teenager quite yet, but he was getting there. The mood swings would show occasionally, and he seemed to grow an inch every other week. And yeah, personal hygiene wasn’t always at the top of his priority list, even if it was on hers.

He handed her the skate and she tried to slide it on his foot, but sure enough, there was no room. She let out a long breath.

“We’re gonna need to buy some new ones,” Cole told her. “I have a game on Saturday.”

Kelly ran her tongue along her dry bottom lip. She hadn’t had coffee yet. Hadn’t had anything to eat, either. She’d grab something later that afternoon at work, probably, if she got the chance. And if she remembered.

“Yeah.” She nodded, her lips pressed together. New skates didn’t come cheap. And even if she could sell these on eBay, it would take weeks for the money to come in. She’d have to find some space on a credit card, or call Cole’s dad, and if she was being honest, the credit card was her preferred option.

“What size are your sneakers?” she asked him. They’d bought those less than a month ago.

“Seven, I think.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Okay.” This time she was going to size up to give him room to grow. Another thing she’d learned in the past year. And if Cole needed some extra socks to fill the space so be it. She couldn’t keep buying skates every few months. Not if they wanted to eat.

“Oh, and Mrs. Grant reminded me about the trip,” Cole said. “The one to the ski center in January. She said we need to get the form in and pay this week.”

Kelly blew out a mouthful of air. She’d put the form in the kitchen drawer to forget about it for a while. “We have a couple of weeks before it’s due, don’t we?”

Cole nodded. “Yeah, but she likes us to be early.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop it in the next time I’m passing,” Kelly promised him. This one needed cash and that was a little harder to come by. She’d have to advance herself some wages.

Again. At least there were some bonuses to being your own boss. Or to your dad being your boss, technically, even if she was the one who ran the Winterville Tavern on a daily basis. Her dad had owned the place since she was Cole’s age, and she’d been working there on and off ever since she could remember. Once she left school she took up half of the slack, and now she did almost all of the work.

Not that she minded. She was kind of attached to the place.

Cole stood and gave her his other skate, then ran out of the room in search of his backpack and shoes. Kelly put his skates on the table and stared at them for a minute.

Okay. It was going to be okay. She’d survived much worse than a cashflow problem. What was it her mom used to say? ‘Never cry over money or men.’ Well, at least she’d learned to follow part of her advice.

“Do you have my lunch money?” Cole shouted from his room.

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