Page 69 of Cowboy’s Christmas Baker

“Should I tell you why I might not want a cookie party?” Mallory asked after a moment.

Katie nodded.

“Our time together here is really special to me,” Mallory said. “And I feel safe making cookies with someone I already know, someone who likes me.”

Katie scowled and looked down at her feet.

“I’m glad you gave me a chance to get to know you, Katie,” Mallory said. “And I hope you’ll give your other friends a chance too. But you don’t have to. It’s up to you.”

There was absolute silence in the kitchen. Harrison waited, wondering which of them would break and fill it with words or screams.

But neither one of those things happened. After a moment, Katie collapsed into Mallory’s arms, squeezing her tight.

Mallory hugged her back, and didn’t let go.

Harrison watched them, tears prickling his own eyes.

He longed to go to them and embrace them both, tell them both how humbled he was by their friendship.

But his feet wouldn’t carry him the rest of the way to them, and his mouth wouldn’t open up.

The sound of the bakery door opening and the bells jingling broke the spell.

Katie pulled back and looked at Mallory, as the chatter of kids talking excitedly drifted back to the kitchen.

“What do you think?” Mallory asked her quietly. “You can leave right out the back door with your dad and I can tell them you had a stomachache and had to go home. Or you can stay and show them how it’s done.”

There was more silence and Harrison felt his heart ache again, but this time with hope.

“I’ll stay,” Katie said at last, her voice a little hoarse.

“Thank you,” Mallory said, squeezing Katie’s hands. “I’m so glad you decided to stay. Let’s wash our faces before we go and greet everyone.”

They got up and went to the sink together.

It was only then that Harrison noticed that Mallory had tears on her cheeks too.

Half an hour later, the kitchen was brimming with activity. Seven little girls in colorful aprons stood on stools and crates, scooping cookie dough onto the sheets.

“Katie,” one of the girls called out, waving a scoop of dough in the air. “Katie, is this the right amount?”

Katie ran over.

“That’s just right, Addie,” she said, nodding to the girl.

“Thank you,” Addie replied happily, dumping her sphere of dough onto the sheet.

“Katie, Katie,” another kid yelled. “Katie, are they too close together?”

Katie dashed off to the other side of the kitchen, smiling as she went to take a look at the dough balls on the other kid’s pan.

“They’re a little close, Leah,” she told her. “Try them about this far apart.”

Leah watched while Katie nudged the ball over a little with a spatula.

“Okay,” Leah said, her eyes serious as she studied the pan.

Mallory’s timer went off, telling them that the ovens were preheated, and everyone went into overdrive trying to get their dough onto the sheets.