Snowfire (Phantom Stallion Wild Horse Island) by Terri Farley

Author:Terri Farley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781439580615
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2008-01-15T08:00:00+00:00

Ann was just climbing out of her mother’s car when Darby arrived at Sun House.

“Mal-a-sadas! “Ann shouted, pumping a fist toward the sky.

In the kitchen, Aunty Cathy had already plugged in her electric frying pan and poured vegetable oil into it.

“Be careful with the hot oil,” she told them. “If this stuff splatters, it can give you a nasty burn. In class, don’t let anyone sit too close to it.”

“Not even Tyson,” Ann promised, but Darby noticed her friend’s fingers were crossed.

“Not even him,” said Aunty Cathy, who had heard plenty of Darby’s complaints about Tyson.

While the oil heated, Aunty Cathy set out milk, sugar, salt, eggs, butter, and yeast. They mixed the ingredients into a simple dough.

“Now, being very careful, get some dough on a wooden spoon and plop a lump into the hot oil. Not plop,” she amended. “Ease it into the oil. Here, I’ll show you how to do the first one, and you can do the rest.”

Darby and Ann were both afraid of the sizzling oil, but they teased each other into trying it.

Slowly and carefully, Ann laid a ball of dough into the oil, then jumped back as it spit and hissed. She handed Darby the big spoon.

“Your turn.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yep, the presentation’s tomorrow. I think we’ve cut it about as close to our deadline as we can.”

Darby scooped a ball of dough onto the spoon and stared at the bubbling oil.

“Just lay it down,” Ann encouraged her.

“I’m just waiting for the right moment,” Darby insisted.

“This isn’t like catching a wave in bodysurfing. There is no right moment,” Aunty Cathy said.

Darby hovered over the crackling oil, then dropped the dough ball in. Oil splattered up, burning her thumb, but she survived, and the next time her technique was better.

After the malasadas were cooked, they had to cool, and then they were rolled in sugar. After cleaning up, Darby and Ann took a plate of the warm, sweet treats to the living room for Jonah, Megan, and Aunty Cathy.

The girls dished a second plate for themselves and took it out to the lanai.

There they ate and planned their presentation, and once, while Ann was writing and Darby was staring off the lanai, Darby heard the strumming of a guitar.

Two guitars, she corrected herself. Cade and Kit were singing to Medusa, and Darby sighed. She remembered her first hours with Hoku and the days that followed. She’d sung Christmas carols to the filly.

Even before she’d adopted the sorrel mustang, Hoku had been hers.

But that seemed like a long time ago.

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