Leopard's Run (Leopard People 10)

She wasn’t going to get distracted. It wasn’t like she had to keep track of ingredients. Evangeline had already done that. Of course, she was going to put the other ten things she’d ruined that Evangeline’d had in the refrigerator out of her mind and just think of these cookies as her first attempt. They were going to be perfect.

Very carefully, she laid out the cookies on the trays. Dozens of trays. She made certain each cookie was perfectly round. Each time she cut the dough with the little circle or star, she ended up with rough edges, but she smoothed them meticulously. She refused to think of time marching on, or the bang of the dishes as Jeremiah rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher.

“They look good,” Gorya observed.

“I’ve got the ovens exactly the right temperature this time,” she said, nervously checking the ovens for the fifth time. “But look anyway, just to be certain, Gorya.” She was not asking for Jeremiah’s help again. She’d tried that before and he’d been a Neanderthal.

“If you’re looking for three fifty, you’re right on target,” Gorya said.

She glared at Jeremiah over her shoulder and gave a little sniff of disdain. Very, very carefully, she carried one tray at time to the ovens and shoved them in. She’d tried before to carry two trays of tart pastries and had dropped them upside down on the floor of the kitchen. She might have been tempted to try to save them, but not in front of Jeremiah, who had laughed like a hyena, or Gorya, who’d kept a straight face and crouched down to help her pick them up from the flour- and sugar-covered floor.

“You know, the first trays are going to be done before the last ones,” Jeremiah called helpfully.

She almost dropped the tray she was inserting into the second oven. There were racks in each oven, evenly spaced, but Evangeline had said something about the middle racks she couldn’t remember.

“Shut the fuck up,” Gorya snapped. “She’s doing fine.”

Ashe tried not to look anxious. “Do you think he’s right?”

“Set the timer. These are going to be great,” Gorya assured.

“I think I’m falling a little in love with you,” she said and sent Jeremiah another glare over her shoulder as she set the timer.

Jeremiah was completely unfazed by her glare. He didn’t drop dead and he didn’t wither on the spot.

“Now I just have to make the caramel cages.” Even she heard the trepidation in her voice. She had messed up every single thing that required her to mix any ingredients and this looked very hard. Like expert hard.

“I’ll help,” Gorya said.

“I won’t,” Jeremiah called from where he was spraying water over pots and pans. “I’m going to sit back and watch the show.”

She resisted throwing a knife at him, but she imagined it while she studied the recipe. She had to read it three times before the image of Jeremiah pleading for his life faded. That was the problem, her mind just wouldn’t stay on mundane things like baking.

“This looks difficult, Gorya.”

“One step at a time. First step.”

She took a deep breath, and measured out sugar, corn syrup and water into a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan and turned on the heat. “It’s supposed to be medium-high, whatever that means. Is it medium, or is it high? Why don’t they just say so you don’t have to guess,” she groused, chewing her lip. She was sweating. Actually sweating.

“I’ve got it,” Gorya said and adjusted the heat.

“I know there was a candy thermometer around here somewhere,” she looked around a little helplessly. “I’m supposed to insert it and cook the sugar until it reaches three hundred and eleven degrees. Insert it where? What does that mean?” She pushed back her hair with her forearm. She wasn’t about to contaminate her sugar concoction.

Gorya found the thermometer and put it in the saucepan. Ashe breathed a sigh of relief as she stirred the sugar. “It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“It’s the ovens,” Gorya said. “We’ve got them all on and that’s heating the room.”

She could have kissed him. It wasn’t that she was overheated because she was so nervous. There was no way she was ever doing this again. Fyodor would have to hire a qualified baker. Was it a baketress? Was there such a thing? She had to keep her mind on what she was doing. She looked at the recipe again.

“I have to wait for it to get to the hard crack stage. What’s that?” She looked at Gorya for advice.

“Babe, I have no idea what that means,” he admitted. “Those cookies smell good though. Really good. I think you did it this time.”

She wasn’t about to point out that Evangeline had done it. The dough had been prepared the night before and left in the refrigerator. Of course, so far she hadn’t messed them up like everything else.