Snowball's Chance: a Harper's Mill YA Romance Read online

  “It’s hit or miss on timing and detail but, yes. If and when I receive one, I can see the future.”

  “That’s like totally cool!”

  “Not really. It can put a huge burden on my sisters and me. Not everyone wants us to know their secrets.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” January brightened for a moment. “That’s what Mickey meant when he said to ask you stuff. Is he a member of the Old Families?”

  “No, but he helps cover for Kel so I put up with his snide comments.” Tabby smiled. “I’m glad you’re not completely freaked out.” She looked down. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Please don’t be mad at me for lying. I wanted to know you better before I told you everything.”

  “I understand,” January said with a sad smile. “It all makes sense, really. I felt like I was missing something. I hate missing things.” Their boots made crunching sounds in the snow crusted woods. “Is Kel a member of the Old Families?”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out already,” Tabby said.

  “He can’t lie, can he?”

  “It’s more than that, but yeah, that’s part of it. Parkers can’t lie and if they make you a promise, they will have to hold it forever. Unfortunately, their wives tend to sneak off in the middle of the night.” Tabby’s grin turned sad. “Honesty is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. But too much honesty doesn’t make for long marriages, I guess.”

  January absorbed this part of the story. She stopped as something occurred to her. “But if they get married, they have promised to love and honor someone the rest of their lives.”

  “Yep.” They stood at the top of a clearing. Tabby scanned the area. “Can you see him?”

  “Who?”

  “Kel.”

  January frowned and scanned the clearing. “No.”

  “Look up. He’s in a tree stand.” Tabby pointed to a fat oak tree.

  “Oh. Okay. I see him, now. Well. Sort of. Is he in camouflage?”

  “Yep. That’s where we’re going.”

  As they approached, January realized they were several hundred feet behind the horse farm. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. Sound carried over the cold air and snow that lined the yard.

  “Kel, we’re coming up on your six,” Tabby said.

  “I see you.”

  January looked up. And smiled. “You look like Nanook of the North.”

  “It’s cold waiting out here,” he said from the warm cocoon of hat, scarf, coat, and gloves.

  “Deer season is over, cowboy,” Tabby said.

  “Season is wide open on vandals,” Kel said. He looked down at the girls. “Shouldn’t you guys be in school? What are you doing here? How did you know I was here? Did you see something, Tab?” His glanced bounced nervously off of January.

  “I told her everything,” she said. “And yes. Well maybe. Visions aren’t perfect, you know. Mickey is on his way over.”

  “Everything?”

  “I needed to know what was going on,” January said, her eyes defiant as she glared up at Kel.

  “You’re right. You did. It’s just hard to decide how to tell people.”

  January was still annoyed but she could see the truth in his words.

  “It’s one thing to be honest,” Kel continued. “But to tell people your great great grandmother was cursed or something is bit off-putting.”

  “The Parkers aren’t cursed,” Tabby said.

  “It feels like it somedays.”

  January reached out and touched Kel’s hand. “I don’t see it that way at all,” she said softly. “In fact, I think your family tells the truth to make you the most trustworthy ones. Like judges or something. A family people can put their faith in.”

  Kel smiled and looked down at his feet. “I never thought of it that way,” he said.

  A stumbling noise sounded in the distance. Kel’s eyes lit up. He lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes. “Good. We’re going to need Mickey. I think this is our vandal now.”

  The unmistakable sound of mixing beads in a spray can echoed across the snow-covered ground. Kel jumped out of the deer stand. “Go get your dad,” she said. “We’ll watch him but tackle him if he gets too close to the barn.”

  Despite being cleaned off, the barn still bore the unmistakable scar of old paint. Fresh red paint was on order and Kel’s first job at Farraday Farms was to help paint the barn. He’d be damned if some dude with a can of spray paint was going to ruin it further.

  Keeping out of sight, January took off through the woods and headed for her dad’s office in the barn. Their only hope was in finding her dad without being seen and before more vandalism occurred.

  “Dad, come quick!”

  Zach looked up. Frowned. Looked at his watch. Then back at his daughter. “What are you doing here?”

  She tugged on his hand. “I’ll explain later. Please,” she begged. “I need you.”

  Zach stood and grabbed his flannel from the back of his chair and followed his daughter. Farraday was just coming into the barn and decided to follow them.

  January skidded to a stop as they rounded the back of the equipment shed. Kel had an older man pinned against the damp ground. Mickey was strutting like a rooster saying, “Did you see that? Did you get it all on your phone?”

  Tabby’s hair was mussed but her smile was triumphant. “Saw it, got it.” She turned to the man cursing in the mud. “You’re going to get what’s coming to you, Dr. Ivy.”

  “Stupid meddling kids.”

  “When did my farm become an episode of Scooby-doo,” Farraday demanded. “I take it this is my vandal?” The four teenagers nodded.

  Farraday winked at Kel, letting him know everything was cool between them. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the police. “Officer Winters, please,” he said into his phone.

  “You might want to stop that, Ivy,” Zach said. “There’s a big pile of road apples over to the right. One more squirm and you’re going to be wearing more than mud.”

  Ivy stilled and glared up at Zach.

  Zach nodded to Kel. “I think you can let him up. Ivy here isn’t going to get in any more trouble, is he?”

  Ivy sniffed but didn’t say anything as he was allowed to stand.

  Zach sidled over to his daughter and tossed an arm around her slim shoulders. “Good job catching the bad guy, Bug.” She grinned up at him. “But you want to tell me why you’re here instead of being at school?”

  Her grin grew strained. “Yeah, can we talk about that later?”

  Police sirens echoed in the distance.

  *~*~*~*~*

  Hours later, as the early winter darkness descended on the farm, January and her dad ate pizza at the kitchen table.

  “Fill me in, Bug. What’s going on?”

  “Kel cut classes all week. I guess he wanted to be there in case Dr. Ivy came back. Which you have to admit was a very good idea. Who knows what kind of mischief that sneaky old man could have gotten into. And to think, Tabby told me he used to be a professor!”

  Zach waved a tired hand. “You. I want to know about you. How did you get out to the farm?”

  “A car.”

  Zach leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest and gave her his “Dad has had just about enough of your mouth” look. January sighed, knowing she had run her dad’s patience into the ground.

  “So, apparently Tabby had a premonition or something that Kel was out at the farm. We cut class and went to give him back up.”

  “You cut school?”

  “Dad, it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t have enough credits to graduate and my grades are generally in the toilet. We haven’t stayed anywhere long enough for me to learn anything.”

  Shame crossed her father’s features and January’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t want her dad to feel bad but the bottom line was changing schools three times a year hadn’t done her any favors.

  “I haven’t been fair to you.”
r />   January felt her eyes fill with tears. “I want it to work here, Dad. I have almost my entire senior year left. Even if I have to get my GED, I want to stay here. I have friends here. I know after Mom died, you were lost. We both were. We just kinda’ went through the last few years like we were asleep.”

  Zach’s eyes filled with tears and he nodded. January stood up and walked up to him. “Daddy?” she said, sounding and feeling much younger than her seventeen years. He opened his arms and she hugged him like she hadn’t since she was a small girl. “It’s time to wake up. I want to stay here.”

  “I’ll start looking for a real apartment in the morning.”

  That night, as January climbed into the too-soft mattress, she was smiling from ear to ear. A dad who loved her, a permanent home, and friends — what else could a girl possibly want?

  Saturday morning, they gathered at The Breakfast Club. Tabby was supposed to be working but she spent more time gabbing than serving coffee.

  “I can’t believe that Ivy guy,” Tabby said. “Emma had to have him arrested for drunk and disorderly at her wedding two years ago. And now an arrest for vandalism? At this point, he won’t even get a job as a janitor at the community college.”

  “Order up, Tabby!”

  Tabby got to her feet. Her gait was light as she floated to pick up her January’s order. “Here ya go. One piping hot New Jersey Breakfast coming up.”

  January looked at the sandwich in front of her. “What is that?”

  “That,” Tabby said proudly, “is three thick slices of Taylor Ham, an over-medium egg, and a slice of American cheese on a hard roll.”

  “Because who needs words like organic or healthy where breakfast is concerned?”

  “Just try it,” Kel said, grinning.

  January took a cautious bite. “Omigoth,” she said around a mouthful of food. “How have I never heard of this? This is amaze balls!”

  Kel and Mickey laughed as they dug into their pancakes.

  Tabby left to freshen her customer’s coffees.

  January ate the rest of her sandwich with an eagerness that would have embarrassed her if it hadn’t tasted so good.

  “So, what’s on tap for you, January?”

  “Mr. Prescott got me a job at the Fire Box as a prep chef. I’ll work there after school. Go to school with everyone and take my GED this spring. But I’ll be able to walk at graduation with you guys.”

  Kel smiled and leaned back, massaging his now full belly. “Your dad has agreed to stay?”

  “Yep. We were looking for apartments but Mr. Farraday said he wanted Dad to stay on site. He has a two bedroom that we’re going to clean up and move into next week.”

  “That’s great,” Tabby said as she breezed past them. “Let’s go up to Emma’s house and go through her basement. Mickey, you can get her a few gallons of paint, right?”

  Mickey nodded, his mouth too full to answer.

  January checked her watch. “Yikes, I need to get going. I promised Dad I’d help him get horses ready for a Dandelion Girl Troop that’s coming for a riding lesson.”

  Kel stood and put money down for their food and a healthy tip for Tabby. They walked out into the bright, sparkling afternoon just as a mild snow flurry fell around them.

  January put out her arms and leaned back in order to watch the snow fall down. She stuck her tongue out, eager for a taste of the bright fresh crystals.

  Kel smiled and opened the car door for her. “January?”

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s a winter dance coming up next week,” he said.

  She looked up at him. “Oh?”

  “Would you like to come with me?”

  Her smile grew incandescent with pleasure. “I’d love to, Kel.”

  The End.

  Harper's Mill stories follow the lives and loves of a small town in Northwestern New Jersey. The town, once settled by a family of light mages, has become home to many families and generations. Story-lines center on the interactions among members of its core families — the Old Families, who each have certain supernatural gifts — as well as their neighbors.

  Pick up a book and enjoy the adventures!!

  Author’s Notes:

  I love writing these books. Love exploring all that Harper’s Mill has to offer. I hope you do, too.

  Where to find me? I’m on Twitter @terrybelle13. I gear up Sunday nights for The Walking Dead, but I’m getting hooked on Badlands, too.

  You can find me on Facebook and love talking to my fans. I may also have a slight obsession with men in kilts. If there’s a cure, please don’t tell me about it, okay?

  https://www.facebook.com/Summer.Donnelly25/

  Who am I reading? I am currently in love with Cora Brant’s Gentry Boys series. Books 1 through 4 are in a box set and free with Kindle Unlimited (at the time of this publication). These boys are alpha and rough around the edges. Hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

  http://amzn.to/2oNGlEa

  *~*~*~*~*

  My friend Spencer Pierson just put published a great book in YA Science fiction and fantasy. Check out A Glimmer of Destiny

  “Aiden watched in fascination as an eerie glowing blue ball floated from around his head and moved towards the only entrance to the classroom. Knowing what that meant, he quickly rose and followed Glowby, his imaginary friend, reaching the door just in time for Professor Reivus to push it open with his bottom and edge into the classroom with his arms full of books.

  He reached out and caught one of the books as it started to fall but missed two more which made it to the floor with loud thuds. Bending down, he deftly retrieved them even as he avoided the old man’s bony elbows. On more than a few occasions they had been known to swing unexpectedly towards his head with painful consequences. Glowby passed through the old man’s head twice as he pushed further into the class before circling back and floating curiously over the books in Aiden’s hands.

  Shaking his head, he smiled fondly at his friend. Glowby had been with him for as far back as he could remember, a soft but consistent presence which had eased him through so many difficult times in his life. From an early age, he hadn’t felt compelled to tell anyone about his imaginary friend and after he’d grown a little, he’d seen how others had been treated when they confessed at seeing things that weren’t there. No, thank you. Being locked in an asylum wasn’t high on his plans for the future. He’d chosen to enjoy his friend’s company instead which had worked out far better for him so far.

  https://www.amzn.com/dp/B01HC93HQK

  *~*~*~*~*

  If PNR is more your style, my friend Nicole Zoltak has written the fantastic A Question of Faith

  Boxes and books litter the room. The first box contains old tests from grade school. Mom’s such a pack rat! I’ll be lucky to find anything worthwhile.

  If there is anything worthwhile besides mice.

  Hugging myself, I glance around and listen hard. No peeps. No scratching of tiny feet on the wooden floor. Not a sound but my raspy breathing and the faint hum of electricity from the light bulb. There isn’t a hint of mice traps or droppings or mice anywhere.

  I give a huge sigh of relief for that, although I’m even more curious now. If Mom lied about the mice, she must be hiding something.

  A bunch of books are stacked beside some boxes. The Ultimate Witches’ Guide to Potions, Herbs, and Rituals. Book of Spells. Magic and Its Healing Properties. Witchcraft, Magic, and More.

  Why would Mom have this stuff? I flip through the top book. In the margin of a love potion spell, I recognize Mom’s practically illegible scribbling. Squinting forces the marks into letters and words I can decipher—something about an ingredient being extinct. She actually thinks magic is real? Why didn’t she say anything when we were just talking about it?

  Because you aren’t impartial about it, a part of me reasons.

  Or because she doesn’t want you to know.

  Believing in the possibility of magic is one thing. That I could accep
t. But trying spells?

  Maybe I shouldn’t fault her for being curious, especially since that’s why I’m up here in the first place.

  I slam the book shut and drop it onto the others. Dust billows everywhere. Coughing, I wave it away and notice a box half hidden in the darkest corner of the attic. My interest piqued, I drag it into the light.

  A name is written on the top in Mom’s chicken scratch. Marian Wynter.

  Who’s that?

  Someone Mom doesn’t want me to know.

  My heart pounds furiously as I flip open the flaps and shift through the mounds of paperwork. A picture falls out. An old newspaper article catches my eye. “Car crash kills mother, baby safe.”

  I sink to my knees and read the article. Marian Wynter’s brakes stopped working during a snowstorm, and she died in the resulting crash when her car slammed headfirst into a large snow bank. The driver of the car behind her witnessed the whole thing and tried to save her, but she had died instantly. The baby, only seven months, survived.

  Marian Wynter was survived by her daughter Crystal, her brother Richard Miller and his wife Patricia.

  I stare at the words so long they swim before my eyes. This can’t mean what I think it does… That Marian Wynter is my birth mother. And my mom is really my aunt.

  I grew up thinking my last name was Miller.

  I’m not Crystal Miller.

  I’m Crystal Wynter.

  Mom has been hiding a secret up here all right. A secret fifteen years in the making.

  http://amzn.to/2orO8vA

  Other books by Summer Donnelly

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  Hummingbird Dreams, Harper’s Mill 1 by Summer Donnelly