SHIVER by Tiffinie Helmer Page A

little.”
    “You want to eat or not?”
    “All right. Shutting up.”
    “Careful, that’s one of the ‘s’ words.”
    He laughed. “Fiona’s still doing that? Is the cost still a quarter?”
    “Of course she’s still doing it. With inflation the fee has now risen to a dollar.”
    “Ouch. I’ll have to put in an IOU until I can get to my things.” He glanced out the dark window at the snow-blanketed wilderness. “Have any idea when that might be?”
    “Tomorrow, hopefully.” She sliced thin pieces of corned beef and heated them in a skillet. Toasting thick slices of rye, she spread on her mother’s secret sauce, and then transferred the heated pieces of meat to the bread.
    “Man, that smells good,” Aidan said. She glanced up and caught him watching her, and raised a brow. He smiled. “Seems you’ve found your way around the kitchen, after all.”
    Fox came busting in, carrying a plate of French fries, a smile splitting across his face, the dimple on his left cheek winking. “Look what I made.”
    Raven grinned with pleasure at seeing her son. His face was alight with accomplishment and pride.
    “Uncle Pike told me what to do, but he let me do it all by myself. I even handled the deep fryer myself.” He held out the plate. “Taste ‘em. They’re great.”
    Raven grabbed a fry and bit into it, the taste exploding in her mouth, spicy and tangy with the perfect amount of salt. “Fox, these are wonderful. What did you put on them?”
    He gave her a clever smile. “It’s my secret recipe.” He glanced over at Aidan, and his face brightened even more.
    A twinge of uneasiness embedded itself in Raven’s heart.
    Fox brought the plate over to Aidan. “How are you feeling, Mr. Harte?”
    “Much better, thanks. And call me Aidan.”
    Fox beamed. “Sure, Aidan.” He offered up the plate. “Try one of my fries.”
    Aidan took a fry and bit into it, his eyes widening. “These are amazing.”
    “Uncle Pike’s going to put them on the menu and call ‘em Fox’s Fabulous French Fries.” He set the plate on the table and claimed a chair.
    Raven placed the Reuben in front of Aidan, along with a napkin and silverware. “Thanks.” He glanced up at her with gratitude. “This looks great.”
    “You’re making Reubens?” Fox asked. “Can I have one?” He turned to Aidan. “Aren’t they the best sandwiches ever?”
    Aidan laughed. “I’ve always thought so.” He took a bite and closed his eyes. “Nobody makes a Reuben like Fiona. At least that’s what I’ve always thought, until now.” He gazed at Raven. “Very good.”
    Raven felt herself blush and turned away, a lump rising in her throat at the domestic scene. This was the way things should have been. She started another sandwich and listened to Fox fill them both in on the great day he’d had. Once school had gotten out, he’d trumped his friend Grand in a snowball fight, taken care of his dogs—all eight of them—then filled Aidan in on his plans to run his dogs in the Fur Rendezvous and then the Yukon Quest just as soon as he was old enough. And then, once he’d gotten a few wins under his belt, he planned to race in the Iditarod.
    Raven added ketchup and mustard to the table and the kettle in case Aidan wanted to refill his cup. Once Fox’s sandwich was done, she cut it diagonally and placed it in front of her son.
    “Aren’t you going to eat?” Aidan asked her.
    She was too melancholy to eat. She went to shake her head, but Fox added, “Come on, Mom.”
    Aidan, she could turn down, but not Fox and his sweet smile. She picked up a plate and took a seat, grabbing a fry. She wasn’t hungry, but they were good. She could get down a few.
    “Here,” Aidan placed half of his sandwich on her plate. “I’m hungry, but my stomach doesn’t want to hold much after going without the last few days.”
    She looked down at the sandwich, and tears filled her eyes. She rapidly blinked them back and took a deep breath. Why did he have to