Holly's Heart Collection Two (53 page)

We backed up and headed down the same way. I held on to my seat for dear life, convinced my knuckles would stay white forever. Volcanic rock towered above us on switchbacks so narrow that the slightest wrong move by the driver meant a plunge to certain death.

The most comforting aspect of the trip was the way Jared and the rest of our church guys weren’t embarrassed about turning ghost-white right along with us girls. No one was being macho about this excursion. The guys were equally as freaked. Even Danny, who was heard quoting Psalm 91 for the Miller twins’ benefit.

During one of the rest stops, Laina Springer smiled at me. “I heard you found out who raided your cabin Saturday night,” she began, blushing. “It was a dumb thing to do,” she admitted. “Sorry.”

“I think we’re all sorry about a lot of things,” I said, smiling at her. Billy strolled up just then.

“Well, see ya,” I called, feeling good about how things had turned out with everyone here at camp.

Todd and I ended up singing “Let There Be Peace on Earth” for the talent program—to the accompaniment of his cool guitar. My now not-so-silent sisters joined in on the
ah
s and
ooh
s, making a fabulous backup for the finale.

The song, the way we arranged it, had never sounded so good to me. The rest of the guys must’ve thought so, too, because they gave us a standing ovation. A far cry from the way they’d treated us before we introduced their sleepy hands to warm H
₂
O.

I was encouraged. If things kept going this well between all of us, there was hope that the Dressel Hills youth group might actually become super close. Like a family. And what a benefit that would be for all of us.

On the last morning of camp, Rhonna and I were alone in the cabin, doing last-minute cleanup. As I swept the wood floor, I glanced over at her, wondering how she felt about going back home. She looked up just then and caught my gaze.

“Rhonna?” I said tentatively. “I just want you to know that I’ll be praying for you and your parents.”

She smiled. “Thanks. We’ll need it.”

“I’m no expert at this stuff,” I offered. “But things
do
improve over time.”

She nodded. “I don’t know which hurts worse, watching your parents’ marriage crumble at my age or going through it when
you
did.” She looked at me. “You said you were only eight when your dad left?”

“It seems like a lifetime ago,” I whispered, remembering.

“Well, maybe by the time I’m thirty, this’ll seem like that for me.” She sighed.

“I really hope so, Rhonna, “ I said. Then added, “Prayer really helps, you know.”

She smiled. “I know.”

As for Todd, he walked with me, just the two of us, for the last time. He insisted on carrying my luggage to the bus. Sighing, I wished I’d had more time to get to know him. More time, without pathetic pacts and wars.

“Will you answer my email?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I’m not so hot at writing, I guess. But I will if you write me first,” he promised.

Isn’t the boy supposed to write first?
I thought. “Maybe
you
should,” I suggested.

“How come?” he said as we passed the commons area and the dining hall.

“I don’t know.” I wondered why we were wasting our last precious minutes on silly things like the proper procedure for starting an email correspondence.

“I might be able to talk my dad into coming to ski next fall,” Todd said, sounding hopeful.

“To Dressel Hills? That’d be fun,” I replied. “Maybe your whole youth group could come, too. You could get to know
all
of us better.” I said that only to let him know ours wasn’t an exclusive sort of relationship.

Besides, what I longed for it now was peace. That and my window seat…my cat, Goofey…and my family. Only not in that order.

Actually, a good night’s sleep wouldn’t feel half bad right about now!

Holly's Super-Duper Snickerdoodle Recipe

These cinnamon-sugar cookies have been known by their silly name since they started showing up at Dutch tea tables in colonial times. “They’re my favorite cookie in the world,” says Holly.

Mix well:

1/2 cup butter, softened

3/4 cup sugar

1 egg

Sift together:

1 3/8 cups sifted flour

(Note: For high altitudes add 1/4 cup additional flour.)

1 tsp. cream of tartar

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. salt

Mix and set aside:

2 tbsp. sugar

2 tsp. cinnamon

1. Chill dough one hour in refrigerator.

2. Roll dough into balls the size of small walnuts.

3. Coat balls in sugar-and-cinnamon mixture.

4. Place balls about 3 inches apart on ungreased cookie sheets.

5. Bake at 400 degrees F until center is almost set and cookie appears lightly browned, 6 to 8 minutes.

6. Cookies will puff up at first, then flatten out with crinkled top.

Makes 3 dozen fabulous cookies.

Andie’s Mexican Wedding Cookies (Polvorones)

A festive basket filled with polvorones makes a perfect home-made gift for friends and relatives. Andie dares you to eat just one!

Ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted

1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar

1 cup finely chopped pecans

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1/2 cup butter or margarine, softened

1 tbsp. ice water (more or less as needed)

Set aside:

Confectioners’ sugar for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

2. Mix flour, confectioners’ sugar, and pecans in large mixing bowl.

3. Add vanilla and butter; using mixing spoon, blend until mixture forms a soft ball. Add about a tablespoon of ice water if mixture is too crumbly.

4. Pinch off pieces of dough and roll into balls the size of Ping- Pong balls.

5. Place balls about 1 inch apart on greased cookie sheet. Bake for about 12 minutes or until set and golden.

6. Remove cookies from oven and sprinkle them with confectioners sugar.

Makes 2 dozen delicious cookies.

For two very loyal fans—

Joy Zartman,

who thinks Holly

should have a boyfriend.

And…

Elyse Hall,

who has more

pen pals than Holly

and Andie combined!

LITTLE WHITE LIES

Chapter 1

“Please say it’s not true,” Andrea Martinez said, pedaling hard to keep up with my bike. “You’re going to California
again
?”

I nodded, amused. “It’s not like you didn’t sorta figure this, right?”

She didn’t say a word.

Side by side, we rode our bikes down the tree-lined street in total silence. I stared straight ahead, letting the soothing summer breeze ripple the length of my hair.

I didn’t have to glance at Andie to know she was fuming. Shoot, I could
feel
the frustration oozing out of her. When Andie didn’t get her way, she often behaved like this, and I braced myself for the fierce argument that was sure to come.

Two weeks without her best friend wasn’t exactly Andie’s idea of summer fun. In fact, by the gray cloud on her face, it looked like she was going to have herself a full-blown pouting party. Just when I thought she might’ve grown up a little. After all, we
were
headed for our freshman year next fall. Besides that, we’d had the same ridiculous conversation last summer.

“Look, Andie,” I said, trying to be kind, “just because I want to visit my dad doesn’t mean I enjoy leaving you behind. You should know that by now.”

There. Maybe that would calm her down.

Andie kept pedaling, standing up now as she worked her short legs. “All the coolest things happen in July around here, Holly,” she insisted, slightly out of breath.

Whoa! Had she already forgotten our fabulous time at Camp Ouray? And what about that zany no-guys pact we’d concocted?

“So…church camp wasn’t all that cool, then?” I asked sar castically.“

That was
last
month,” she shot back.

“Well, it’s not like we haven’t spent time together this summer,” I pointed out. We coasted down a hill.

“Aw, c’mon,” she argued. “Please stay in Dressel Hills. We’ll have so-o much fun.”

I could see this conversation was going nowhere fast. “Hey, I have an idea.” I turned the corner and headed toward Andie’s driveway. “Let’s pretend we’re having fun right now.” I couldn’t stop a mischievous smile from spreading across my face.

We parked our bikes on the front lawn. Andie cast a furtive glance my way. “Holly Meredith, you’re completely hopeless.” And with that she dashed into the house, calling to let her mom know she was home.

Completely hopeless?

I situated myself on Andie’s front steps. Completely hopeless fell into an entirely different category than the simple teasing I’d just dished out. Completely hopeless had more to do with obnoxious little sisters like mine—Carrie, who was nine, and Stephanie, my stepsister, who was eight, going on infancy. Without the two of them forever sneaking around, my life might seem perfect right now.

Last week I’d squelched my excitement when Mom informed me that she didn’t think Carrie would be going to California this time. “You know how close Carrie and Stephie have become,” she explained.

“Sure, Mom,” I said, absolutely delighted.

When Uncle Jack came home for lunch, Mom asked his opinion. It took only a split second of whining from Stephie—telling how
horribly
lonely she’d be without Carrie—to bring Uncle Jack to his decision.

So it was settled. Carrie could skip the summer visit if it was okay with Daddy. And Mom lost no time phoning him in California. She escaped with the cordless phone into the living room while Carrie and I cleaned up the kitchen. I tried to listen in on Mom’s end of the conversation, but it was difficult with all the kitchen clatter. As it turned out, Daddy had no problem with Carrie staying put here.

I was secretly thrilled. Daddy and I would have more time to spend together. At least this way, Carrie wouldn’t jabber away every single second of our visit.

I leaned back against the warm steps leading to Andie’s front door and closed my eyes. Cheerful birds chirped around me every-where. It was summer all right—one of the best times of year in Colorado. The heat from the porch steps radiated through my white shorts, so I stood up, letting the sun’s rays warm my face instead.