Read Dancing Through the Snow for Free Online

make-believe games. How long would she be allowed to stay in this warm, welcoming place? It felt like a house in a fairy tale. A hobbit hole maybe. Dr. Hart — Jess — with her long black hair, dark skin and deep-set eyes, was different too.
    “That Indian doctor,” Enid Bangs had called her. Min had realized, long ago, that her foster mother was uncomfortable whenever they met Dr. Hart or anyone else who was not white. As though she were a foreigner, Min thought, puzzling over it.
    Then, one day when Min had an ear infection, Enid Bangs had asked the doctor what country she came from and Dr. Hart had smiled and said, very quietly, “Canada. My mother is First Nations and my father — well, nobody knows. How about you?”
    Remembering how flustered Enid had grown, Min grinned.
    “Here, Miss Cheshire Cat,” Jess teased as she held out slices of bread to Min. “You butter these on one side and I’ll get the cheese ready.”
    Min bent her head and began. She felt useful and happy. When the sandwiches were ready, Jess had the frying pan hot and plunked them in. The milk for their drinks was heating in the microwave oven.
    “What a great team we make!” Jess said, flipping the sandwiches over and giving Min a spoon to use to stir in the chocolate syrup.
    “Yeah,” Min murmured. She felt her cheeks grow warm with delight.
    Enid Bangs, like most of her foster mothers, had made sure Min filled and emptied the dishwasher, kept her own room tidy and did other cleaning chores. She was expected to make her own school lunch — bologna or tuna sandwiches usually — but she had never made Min welcome in the kitchen or taught her how to cook.
    Jess, with Maude shadowing her, led the way down the hall to the living room. She turned on the gas fireplace and it did almost crackle. Min curled up on the couch and tried to believe what was happening to her was real and not some dream. Neither of them talked except to the cat. And Jess seemed perfectly comfortable sitting in silence. Min looked around. There were real paintings on the walls. There were bookshelves too and, on top of one of them, two or three framed photographs of children. She glanced at them and then stiffened.
    She knew these kids. There was Tobias, looking younger, and Grace and Margaret when they were maybe two. There was another one with the baby twins cradled in their mother’s arms. She was gazing down at them as though they were two of the wonders of the world.
    “I know those kids,” Min murmured. “Is that your godson? Toby?”
    “He is indeed,” Jess said, turning her head to smile at the pictures. “Where did you meet up with them?”
    Min reached to set down her empty mug and it slipped from her hand. She dove to save it even though she knew it had broken. Terror-stricken, she picked up the handle in one hand and the unbroken cup in the other. If only she had been more careful!
    “Don’t look like that, Min,” Jess said, laughing. “I never did like that mug. The handle was too small to hold comfortably. Just be glad you had finished the hot chocolate before it fell.”
    Min, still horrified at what she had done, sat frozen.
    “Even if it were a Royal Doulton cup, my child, it would still only be a kitchen mug, not a golden chalice. Take the bits out to the kitchen and put them in the garbage under the sink while I get out a sheet and pillowcase and a Whispering Silk quilt.”
    “What’s a Whispering Silk quilt?” Min asked.
    “It is stuffed with silk from the cocoons made by silkworms, instead of down from goose feathers. A friend of mine sells them. They are lovely and warm and so light. You’ll see.”
    Min did as she was told. Jess had followed her and turned down a hall leading out of the kitchen to the bathroom. The hallway had linen cupboards down one side where bedding and towels were stored.
    “The bathroom, by the way, is here,” she called as she hauled out bedding.
    Min was glad to be shown. After all she had gone