Holly's Heart Collection Two

by Beverly Lewis

  “Uh-oh,” Andie muttered while the rest of my sisters groaned audibly.

  I couldn’t contain myself. “SOS was my idea,” I confessed. “So was the pact. I guess we got a little carried away.”

  Jared looked puzzled. “What was SOS supposed to mean, anyway? he asked.

  “Sisters of Silence,” I said.

  “Oh…yeah,” he said, thinking it through. “You girls were way too quiet.”

  “Maybe talking things out would’ve been better,” Andie offered.

  “No kidding,” Stan admitted.

  Danny fidgeted.

  “Well, what’s it gonna be?” Andie asked. “Forgiven or not?”

  The guys looked at each other. Jared shrugged. “Okay, fine.”

  Stan said, “Forgiven.”

  Billy agreed, “Completely wiped out of my mind.”

  Danny piped up: “Hey, there’s a really cool verse about forgiveness I memorized just today.”

  “Whoa, Danny, you’re avoiding the subject,” Jared said. He shot a look at Stan and Billy. And—as if they’d planned it hours earlier—they promptly picked up “Preacher Danny” and hauled him down the slope to the cold mountain stream.

  I could still hear Danny yelling for mercy as we picked up our sports bags and made our way back to good old Cabin B.

  But it didn’t take me very long to forget about our church boys, because I was already planning what I would say the next time I saw Todd Stillson.

  NO GUYS PACT

  Chapter 20

  “I feel like a new person,” I told Andie later that night. She was at the sink next to me applying makeup like crazy. “And it has nothing to do with this.” I studied my lip gloss.

  Andie glanced at me in the mirror. “You’re right.” She sighed. “Just think, we almost messed up our entire week with that stupid pact.”

  “Thank goodness we’ve still got some time left to enjoy the cease-fire,” I said.

  “And to spend with our brothers,” Amy-Liz said.

  “Call them brothers if you want.” I smiled. “I, for one, prefer to think of some of them as more than brothers.”

  Andie and company turned simultaneously to stare. But I didn’t give them a single clue as to what I was thinking.

  Jared and Todd both hung around during the end-of-camp latenight hike, walking on either side of me as we made our way up the trail. The rest of my sisters ended up with male counterparts, as well, something none of them seemed to mind.

  At a rest stop, when Jared was busy talking to Billy, I invited Todd to sit with me on the jeep trip.

  “I’d be honored,” he said, adjusting his cowboy hat, or was that a gentlemanly tip of the hat?

  “And about that duet,” I said, “I have a great idea. That is, if you still want to sing with me.”

  “We can practice our harmony tomorrow,” he said in a slow drawl. I took that as a yes.

  “Perfect,” I said.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Jared was watching. Apparently he’d overheard Todd’s last words. I didn’t dare look at him too closely, but I was sure he was pouting. I could tell from the way his hands were jammed in his pockets.

  I hid a smile. Jared never gives up….

  Wednesday. Last full day of camp!

  The open-jeep ride was even scarier than the brochure advertised. To keep from being too freaked about the steep dropoffs on either side of the trail, Todd and I sang. One song after another.

  The jeep stopped at an overlook and I gasped. “I’m too young to die!”

  “I won’t let you, Holly,” Todd said, smiling that cowboy grin. “I’m just getting to know you.”

  It sounded a little hokey, I guess. But that was the part I liked about Todd. Sometimes along with hokey comes downright honesty.

  I thought back to the times when Todd hadn’t gone along with the crowd—the guys—and joined in with their jeering. He was his own person. Different from most of the boys I knew but special just the same. A true gentleman.

  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 ahs and oohs, 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 H2O.

  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-su
gar 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.

  “Thirsty?”

  I twirled around. There stood Andie, holding out a tall glass of lemonade. “Mmm, looks good. Thanks.” I reached for the icy glass.

  Andie shot me a hesitant look. “Are you totally sure about going off to California in just four days?”

  “I don’t have second thoughts if that’s what you mean.”

  Her big brown eyes did a little rolling number. “Hey, can’t a girl ask a question?”

  I was silent. She was pushing way too hard.

  “If I could, I’d try and talk you out of it, you know.” Andie took a long drink of lemonade, then looked up. “C’mon, let’s go around to the backyard.”

  I followed her through the side yard toward the back of the house. Andie didn’t wait for me to catch up. She kept twisting one of her dark curls around her finger, which always spells trouble. She was acting downright weird, like she had some big secret or something.

  Around the back, positioned near several small aspen trees, a large jungle gym stretched out across one end of the yard. The play set had been purchased earlier this summer for Andie’s three-year-old twin brothers, Jon and Chris. Numerous times, Andie and I had entertained the busy little boys while their parents were away. For pay, of course.

  I went to the swings and sat down, swaying gently as I sipped my lemonade. Andie ploppe
d down on the bottom of the slide.

  “Look out—it might be hot!” I said, just as she scooted off and fell into the sand.

  Getting up, she brushed off her shorts. “We oughta go swimming. You can get in on my Y membership.” She sat on the swing next to me. “Want to?” she asked.

  It was hot; a cool dip would feel fabulous. “Sure,” I said. But Andie seemed suddenly distant—preoccupied—as she drank the rest of her lemonade. Was she still brooding about the California thing?

  I chewed on the ice at the bottom of my glass. “Something bugging you?” I asked.

  “Sorta,” she said softly.

  “So talk to me.”

  She shuffled her feet around in the sand a bit before she spoke. “It’s just that…I, oh, I don’t know.”

  It wasn’t like Andie to stall. If something was on her mind, she never hesitated getting it out in the open. Especially with me. Andie and I had been close friends since preschool days.

  “What is it?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  The sun glistened on Andie’s hair, and she studied me with a clear, steady gaze. “What would you think if I went along with you?” She seemed almost shy. For the first time in her life.

  “Let me get this straight,” I said, smiling. “You want to go to California?”

  “Yep. With you,” she emphasized.

  “Sounds like a good idea to me, but what about your parents? Do you think they’ll agree?”

  Her smile faded quickly. “I don’t know. My parents are real protective.”

  “Well, why would you want to go in the first place?” I asked, eager to get to the bottom of this.

  “It’s just that I never get to go anywhere,” she exaggerated. “I was born here, and except for camping, we hardly ever leave Dressel Hills.” She stood up just then and flung her arms wide. Something like the way Maria does in the opening scene to The Sound of Music. “There’s a world out there just waiting for me. I don’t want to stagnate and die here in Colorado.”