The Hidden Deep Read Online Free Page A

were the key to her signature pink applesauce.”
    Prissie frowned as she worked on one of the other five varieties, an apple as tart as her mood. She didn’t think it was any of Ransom’s business knowing one of their family’s stories, and it bugged her to see how he hung on her father’s every word. After all her excitement about spending time with her dad and making her pie together, Jayce was paying more attention to Ransom. It wasn’t fair!
    Jayce pared a few more apples before leaving the rest of the prep to his able-bodied assistants. Soon, the smell of proofing yeast filled the kitchen, and a batch of poppy seed muffins found its way into the oven. More strong scents filled the air as he chopped rosemary, roasted garlic, and grated nutmeg, and slowly, Prissie began to relax. The bakery was
her
home away from home, and Ransom couldn’t take that away.
    As they worked, Prissie was pleased to note that she was quicker and neater than her rival. She was mightily peeved that he’d taken all the pink apples for himself, but it looked as though she would be able to finish all the rest before he got through his pile. True, there were smaller quantities of the other varieties, but it was sort of comforting to know she was better than him.
    Somewhere along the way, Prissie realized that she missed Koji’s company. If the young angel had been there, he would have asked her a hundred questions about everything from their upcoming group social studies project to the reason why cinnamon candy was red when cinnamon was brown. Busywork was nicer if you had someone to chat with, but there was no way she was going to make small talk with
Ransom.
She eyed his progress critically. “You’re cutting those pieces wrong.”
    “You think?” he asked, holding up a chunk of pink apple.
    “They’re too fat,” she pronounced, picking up a long, thin wedge from her own board. “This shape is better.”
    “You
do
realize it all bakes down to mush?” he inquired, a teasing lilt to his tone.
    Prissie’s eyes narrowed. “My pie is not mushy!”
    Ransom just smirked and turned toward her father. “Hey, Mr. Pomeroy.” Holding up the small chunk of fruit, he asked, “Is this okay?”
    Jayce glanced over. “Sure, sure. Keep up the good work,” he replied distractedly.
    The teen quirked a brow at her as he answered, “Yes, sir!”
    “Oh,
fine
,” she grumbled, returning her attention to her own pile of fruit, which she stubbornly continued to slice the correct way.
    In due course, the apples were reduced to six mounds. “I can manage this part if you two take care of those candies,” she prompted.
    “Sure,” Ransom replied. He nabbed one and popped it out of its red wrapper. “So what are we talking about here? Do you use a food processor?”
    “Mortar and pestle?” Jayce suggested.
    Prissie shook her head and admitted, “Koji and I used a hammer.”
    The teen’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I am
all over
that!” He rummaged in a drawer and came up with a mallet, then rounded on the small pile of candies. “Let’s do this!”
    With a steely look, Prissie removed the last of the cinnamon candies from its wrapper, and placed them all inside a plastic bag. Holding out her hand for the mallet, she said, “Let me take care of it. I can tell you’re going to get carried away.”
    “No way! I called dibs on the candy-smashing!”
    “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    “Aw, c’mon, Miss Priss,” he wheedled. “You can supervise!”
    “He’ll be handling the job from now on,” Jayce interjected, giving his daughter a pointed look. “Let him get a feel for it.”
    With a sour expression, she relented, handing over the bag of candy. Ransom took it over to one of the wooden counters and stood with hammer poised. Glancing expectantly her way, he asked, “Pebbles or dust?”
    “Pebbles would be too big, but I don’t want dust,” Prissie said with authority. “Sand is best.”
    “Right,” he replied, and the hammer