Canyon Walls by Julie Jarnagin Read Free Book Online

the children in our playgroup. Thanks for sending the books for Gracie’s birthday. Daniel got a big new account at work last week. A promotion is on the horizon. I’m as busy as ever, heading up the new children’s fair at our church.
    I attached an article I read from one of my e-newsletters. I thought you might find it helpful.
    Talk to you soon.
    Melissa
    Cassie blinked. Despite the incessant bragging about her perfect family, she liked hearing about her nieces’ achievements—as long as it didn’t include one of her sister’s usual digs. But there was no mention of Cassie’s messy house, and Melissa didn’t point out that she was single. It was nice.
    She clicked on the icon of a paper clip, opening the attachment on the e-mail. Had she underestimated her sister all these years? Maybe her sensitivity—okay, defensiveness—toward anything involving her sister contributed to their strained relationship.
    She enlarged the screen to see the headline of the article, which read, “Women in Their 20s: Sabotaging Happiness?” Cassie leaned closer to the screen, hoping she had misread the headline. She read the second line, “Are women today ruining their chances for a happy home life and a family by putting their careers above their roles as wives and mothers?”
    She turned away from the computer. Her chest tingled with her vibrating heart. Is that what her sister thought of her, that she didn’t want to be happy?
    Cassie needed a distraction. So she did the one thing that helped her forget her problems. She worked. She usually made a point to stay out of the kitchen, but today she wasn’t worried about being in the way. Cassie wasn’t known for her culinary skills, but she liked to get her hands dirty.
    Beth didn’t comment when Cassie looped the apron strap over her head. “What can I do for you, boss?” she asked Beth.
    Beth’s green eyes danced. “Oh, I get to be the boss for the rest of the day? I have some ideas.”
    Cassie scrubbed her hands with soap and water. “I’m serious. I’m here to help. What do you need me to do?”
    Beth looked her up and down. “I need all of these onions chopped, but I don’t have time to take you to the emergency room tonight.”
    A timer rang, and Cassie turned it off. “You’ve seen me use a chain saw. I didn’t hurt myself then.”
    Beth took a huge pan of lemon bars out of the oven. “Yes, but do you remember the incident with the spork?”
    Beth would never let her live down the time she made herself bleed with a plastic spoon with little fork tines on the end. At a picnic, the spork had snapped in half as she tried to eat a slice of watermelon. The plate on her lap had slid onto the ground, and the sharp plastic scraped her leg.
    â€œI would hardly call it an incident. I didn’t bleed much, and it was a plastic utensil.”
    â€œMy point exactly,” Beth said.
    Cassie pulled a knife from a drawer, and Beth took two steps backward with her back against the oven, her eyes wide with feigned terror.
    â€œDon’t worry. I’m fine,” Cassie said. Her voice grew serious. “I need you to let me do this.”
    Beth threw her hands up in the air. “Be my guest.”
    It took Cassie a few minutes to find the cutting board. She set up shop on an empty corner of counter space. Before long, her eyes burned from the onions. Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her shirt. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to get the stinging to subside. She wiped her face with the bottom of her apron.
    Her eyes stung, and she couldn’t see what she was chopping. She felt the edge of the blade sink into the tip of her finger. She whimpered.
    Beth ran over, and when her eyes looked down toward the red blood, she screamed. Beth pulled her over to the utility sink and turned on the faucet. The cold water blasted against the