Read Online The Rules for Breaking by Ashley Elston - Free Book Online

think we’re going to be here?”
    I watch her for signs of that sad little girl that defined her for the better part of the year. She seems to be handling this fairly well, so I don’t lie.
    “I don’t know. Agent Williams seems to think this will all be wrapped up in a few days. We could survive a month if we had to with the stash of groceries down there, though.”
    Teeny climbs up to the top bunk. “I don’t want to be around when Emma figures that out.”
    It’s midmorning by the time I make it downstairs. Teeny puts on a strong front while she’s awake but she woke up screaming last night. It took a while to get her back to sleep and then I was wired. Emma evicted Ethan from the couch and he ended up on the floor in a sleeping bag.
    “Did you catch up on some sleep?” Ethan asks me.
    We’re in the main living area where Ethan and his dad are checking to make sure the guns they brought are loaded before putting them into a cabinet. Emma picks up a rifle and starts opening and closing parts and lots of other things I don’t understand. I’ve heard she’s as good of a shot as Ethan.
    I nod and rub my eyes. Teeny’s in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, looking fresh and alert and completely normal, like last night didn’t happen.
    While the guys go outside to chop some firewood, Mrs. Landry decides to teach Teeny and me how to bake, since there isn’t much else to do.
    I should be peeved over the obvious gender stereotypes in play here, but chopping wood looks hard so I’m going to leave them to it.
    It was actually fun at first. Mrs. Landry is like my old kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Wilcox—she has the same sugary sweet voice and explains everything like we’re five years old—so it’s not surprising when she starts in with the corny cupcake jokes.
    “Why did the cupcake crash his car?” she asks.
    I glance at Emma who rolls her eyes, but not in her normal bitchy way. She’s giggly and answers her mother with an exaggerated “Why?”
    Mrs. Landry waits a moment for dramatic effect and answers, “Because he was baked.”
    Emma, Teeny, and I laugh, and that is the only push Mrs. Landry needs to keep the jokes rolling.
    “Why did the cupcake major in restaurant management?”
    We all groan in anticipation of the answer.
    “Why?” Teeny asks.
    “It wanted to be a Hostess.”
    And they only get cornier.
    Emma moves closer to me and whispers, “Dad got her this culinary joke-a-day calendar and we’ve been subjected to cooking humor ever since. Who knew there were so many jokes about a cupcake?”
    We have a really nice afternoon and I’m glad to see Emma loosen up.
    But watching Mrs. Landry and Emma makes me think about Mom and how this could have easily been a scene from our kitchen back in Scottsdale. Or maybe it’s the hope of a scene we may have in the future in Natchitoches. Teeny must have been thinking the same thing, because she got quiet and wasn’t interested in learning how to make roses out of icing.
    By early afternoon, we’d made two cakes, twenty-four cupcakes, and three pies.
    I’m cleaning up after our baking extravaganza when I feel a tug on the back on my shirt.
    “Want to sneak out of here for a little while?”
    It’s Ethan, wearing a devilish smile, and one I won’t even try to resist. Glancing around the kitchen, I know I should stay and finish the dishes, but I’m not losing this opportunity to be alone with him.
    “Lead the way.”
    With my hand in his, we bolt from the camp and dash down the gravel road. Winding around a few of the other camps, we stop in front of a rather large one.
    “Where are we going?” I ask.
    “It’s a surprise.”
    Not letting go of my hand, we make our way to the back of the house and up a set of stairs that leads to a balcony. I’m shocked when I make it to the top.
    There’s an old-timey black potbelly stove with a roaring fire inside next to a hammock loaded with pillows and blankets. It’s colder here than I thought it