I'll Be Home for Christmas by Fern Michaels Read Free Book Online Page B

the turnoff to the Evans Kennel. He jammed on his brakes, the back end of his car fishtailing across the road. He took a deep breath, cursing the fancy car again. Shaken, he crawled into the parking lot and parked the car. He wondered again if the Chevy pickup actually worked.
    â€œI saw that,” Andi trilled. “It’s a good thing there was no one behind you. Where’s your truck?”
    â€œDead battery.”
    â€œWe can take my truck. It’s in tip-top shape. Turns over every time. No matter what the weather is. It was my dad’s prized possession. The heater works fine and we can put our sleds in the back.” Andi dangled a set of car keys in front of him. She was laughing at him, and he didn’t mind one damn bit. “Those boots have to go. When was the last time you went sled riding?”
    â€œLight-years ago. These boots are guaranteed to last a lifetime.”
    â€œPerhaps they will. The question is, will they keep your feet dry? The answer is no. I can loan you my father’s Wellingtons. Will you be embarrassed to wear yellow boots?”
    â€œNever!” Peter said dramatically. “Does the rest of me meet with your approval?”
    Andi tilted her head to the side. “Ski cap, muffler, gloves…Well, those gloves aren’t going to do anything for your hands. Don’t you have ski gloves?”
    â€œI did, but I couldn’t find them. Do you have extras?”
    â€œRight inside the yellow boots. I figured you for a leather man. I’m a mitten girl. I still have the mittens my mother knitted for me when I was a kid. They still fit, too. When you go sled riding you need a pair and a spare. I bet you didn’t wax the runners on your sled either.”
    â€œI did so!”
    â€œProve it.” Andi grinned.
    â€œAll right, I didn’t. It was all I could do to get the cobwebs off.”
    â€œCome on,” Andi said, dragging him by the arm into the garage. Neither noticed a sleek, amber-colored Mercury Sable crawl by, the driver craning her neck for a better look into the parking lot.
    â€œHere’s the boots. They should fit. I’m bringing extra thermal socks for both of us, extra gloves and mittens. There’s nothing worse than cold hands and feet. I lived for one whole winter in Minnesota without central heat. All I had was a wood-burning fireplace.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œIt was all I could afford. I survived. Do they fit?”
    â€œPerfectly. You should be very proud of yourself, Andi.”
    â€œI am. My parents weren’t rich like yours. Dad wasn’t a businessman. There’s so much money on the books that was never paid. He never sent out bills or notices. I’m kind of like him, I guess.”
    â€œMy parents weren’t rich. My grandmother is the one with the money. My dad was a draftsman; my mother was a nurse. You’re right, though; I never had to struggle. Did it make you a better person?”
    â€œI like to think so. When you’re cold and hungry, character doesn’t seem important. You are what you are. Hard times just bring out the best and worst in a person. Okay, your runners are ready for a test run.”
    â€œDo you ski?”
    â€œHa! That’s a rich person’s sport. No. I’m ready.”
    â€œMe, too,” Peter said, clomping along behind her.
    â€œYou look good in yellow,” Andi giggled.
    â€œMy favorite color,” Peter quipped.
    â€œThat’s what my mother said when she presented my father with those boots. The second thing she said was they’ll never wear out. My dad wore them proudly. How’s your grandmother today?”
    â€œBetter. I promised to stop by this evening with Hannah’s ashes. My grandmother is a very strong woman. She started King Cosmetics in her kitchen years ago after my grandfather died. I’d like you to meet her.”
    â€œI’d like that. Do you want to drive or shall