Free 1420135090 (R) by Janet Dailey Page B

With snow flying around them, and Hunter whooping like an old-time Apache on the warpath, they shot down the drive and swung down the road toward the Taggart ranch.
     
     
    “It isn’t fair!” Amy scowled out the kitchen window as the snowmobile roared down the road and vanished from sight.
    Kylie sighed as she gathered the ingredients for sugar cookies. The worst thing about hearing Amy’s words, again and again, was that they were so often true.
    “I know, sweetheart,” she said. “Right now, life doesn’t seem fair. But things will get better, you’ll see.”
    “But why does Hunter get to have all the fun? He gets to go on the snowmobile and I have to stay cooped up in the house like a prisoner.”
    Why? Because he’s older. Because your mother wasn’t smart enough to order your winter clothes earlier. And because, for the first time since your father died, Hunter looked so happy that I couldn’t say no.
    None of those answers would satisfy her daughter, Kylie knew.
    “You’ll get your turn at something fun, I promise, Amy,” she said. “For now, how about helping me make some Christmas cookies?”
    “Maybe we won’t even burn them.” Amy turned away from the window, her sour expression saying more than words.
    “We won’t burn these cookies.” Kylie was determined to stay cheerful. “I’ve asked Aunt Muriel to work her magic with the stove. While they’re baking, we’ll be right here keeping an eye on them.”
    “Since that oven door doesn’t have a window, we’re going to need X-ray vision,” Amy said. “Maybe that’s what Aunt Muriel’s got.”
    “Did I hear my name mentioned?” Muriel tottered into the kitchen with her knitting bag and took a seat at the table.
    “I was about to preheat the oven,” Kylie said. “The cookie recipe says three hundred seventy-five degrees. That’s the temperature I set yesterday when the cookies burned. So tell me what to do.”
    “Set it for three forty-five,” Muriel said. “And it’s best if you don’t open the oven till the cookies are done.”
    Kylie blinked at her. “But how can you tell they’re done if you don’t open the oven?”
    “Why, by the smell, of course! How else?” Muriel opened her bag and took out the sock she was knitting. Her needles clicked in the stillness of the kitchen as Kylie set the stove and began to cream the butter and sugar. Amy glanced at the recipe and began measuring the dry ingredients into a smaller bowl.
    “So, what do you think of the cowboy?” Muriel asked. “He’s really something, isn’t he?”
    Kylie’s breath caught for an instant. She felt heat flood her face, remembering last night’s kiss and her fevered response. “He’s okay, I guess. I might be more enthused about him if I hadn’t wrecked his motorcycle.”
    “Oh, he’ll get over that,” Muriel said. “I can tell he likes you.”
    “That’s silly.” Kylie kept her back toward the table to hide her blazing cheeks. “He hardly pays any attention to me.”
    “That’s how I know he likes you,” Muriel said. “He’s playing it cool.”
    Amy giggled.
    “You’re imagining things, Aunt Muriel.” Kylie broke two eggs into the bowl. Her hands were a trifle unsteady. Good grief, was the old darling matchmaking? “I had mixed feelings about letting Hunter go with him today. Remembering what Shane was like in high school, I can’t believe he’d be a good influence on a growing boy.”
    “What was he like?” Amy was becoming interested.
    “He was the town bad boy, always breaking rules and getting in trouble. I still remember when he showed up after Christmas break with a tattoo of an eagle on his shoulder. I don’t know where he got it, but he was eighteen by then so he didn’t need permission.”
    “A tattoo? Wow!” Amy grinned.
    “It almost got him expelled. The principal made him keep it covered, even in gym class. He had to wear a T-shirt with sleeves.”
    “Has he still got the tattoo?” Amy asked.
    “How on