Joy whooped and grabbed her mittens and coat. Once she had them on, she ran out onto the back deck and cannonballed into the snow.
With a gasp, Ruby ran to the deck rail, leaning over to check if Joy was all right. “Girl! I’m telling your Daddy as soon as he gets home. You know better than to do that. What if the snow hadn’t been thick enough?”
Kip had been thinking the same thing, but Joy just laughed. “Ruby! It’s been snowing for months. I’m fine! I used to jump off the roof of the north cabin all the time.”
Ruby’s hands gripped her ample hips. “You mean when he brought you here because jumping off the roof triggered a flare-up of your rheumatic fever? That’s exactly why I worry and why I’m telling your Daddy. You know how seriously he takes your health.”
A puff of smoke marked Joy’s sigh. Kip hadn’t known Joy had once suffered from rheumatic fever. She looked at her friend with concern. Did Joy even need to be outside? And was she aware she was covering her bottom with her hands?
A groan from behind Kip caught her attention. Tildi was heading outside, cheeks already pink. “I never win at snowballfights. I think Tennessee snow throws differently. I was great at snowball fights with Tennessee snow.”
Kip tugged her borrowed hat lower, the one Trace had shoved on her head before he left. With a kiss, he’d growled, “Don’t freeze your ass off.”
Kip snorted. “I’m wearing it in the wrong place to stop that.”
“You let yourself get too cold, and I’ll warm that pretty ass up just fine when I get back.”
Recalling the kiss he had given her next, she stepped outside with a smile.
The cold slapped her as she stepped onto the deck. The sky had turned a dull gray, with clouds so low she could almost reach out and touch them. The cold sliced straight through her coat and bit the back of her neck as the wind gradually started to pick up.
“Follow me for the fun!” Kenzie called out.
Joy and Tilde took off after Kenz, marching to the corral fence. Glancing at the ominous clouds, Kip slipped her hand into her pocket and grabbed the tiny box holding her Promise Pebble. With a sigh, she followed her friends to the corral fence.
Kenz had already lined up a dozen empty metal feed buckets on the top rail. “When did you do all this?” Kip asked.
“Before the men left. Three throws each,” Kenzie declared, drawing a line in the snow with her boot heel.
“What about you?” Tildi demanded. “You should practice too.”
With a grin and a wink, she added, “I already did. But tell you what, I’ll give you credit if you come close, Tildi. We’ll call it a Tennessee mulligan.”
Tildi stuck out her tongue. Joy laughed so hard she fell over.
Kenzie pulled out her score pad. “Okay, who’s going first?”
Raising her hand, Joy stepped up to the line. “I guess I will.” She packed a snowball the size of a softball, wound up like a pitcher, and nailed the center bucket dead-on with all three throws. It rang like a bell. She spun in a circle, arms out. “Gold medal, baby!”
Tildi’s first throw went wide, exploding against the barn in a puff of white. She spun toward Kenzie. “That was the wind’s fault.” Her second throw clipped the edge and spun the bucket. “I had something in my eye!” she cried over the wind. Her third snowball finally hit. She punched the air and danced around in the snow. “See? Natural talent.”
Kip stepped forward. She packed the snow tight, ignoring the burn of the cold on her bare fingers. Hopefully, Trace would never find out about that part. When she had the snowball just right, she let it fly. The snowball smacked the bucket so hard it bounced off the rail and landed upside-down in the snow.
Kenzie whistled. “Woah, city girl’s got an arm like a cannon.”
Grinning, Joy said, “Remind me never to make her mad.”
Tildi crossed over, pretending to inspect the line in the snow. “Oops. That was a good one. Too bad you stepped over the line.”
They kept going, rotating, trash-talking, laughing until their arms ached. Every few minutes, Kip glanced westward. Each time, she did, the clouds had darkened another shade. By the time they finished, the wind had shifted. Blowing harder from the northwest, it lifted sheets of snow off the drifts and hurled them sideways. The temperature dropped so fast she fel it in her teeth.
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She braced herself against the wind and shouted to get the other girls' attention. “I think the storm is coming in faster than the forecast said. Shouldn’t we go back inside now?”
Before anyone could respond, Ruby called to them from the deck. Her voice was half lost in the wind. “Girls! Hot cider! You’re going to turn into popsicles if you stay out there!”
Kip had never been so happy to hear Ruby yell in her life. They all rushed inside, shedding coats, hats, and mittens into a chaotic pile by the mudroom door. The kitchen smelled like cinnamon, cloves, and hot apples. Ruby had a large enamel pot on the stove, steam curling up to fog the windows. A bowl of popcorn as big as awashtub sat in the middle of the table, with another of fresh cranberries beside it. Threaded needles waited like tiny swords.
“Have some hot apple cider and take a minute to warm up. Then you all can help me string the popcorn and cranberries to liven up the windows for Christmas.”
