Dear Readers,

I figured that since I was a day late with the previous chapter, it would only be fair that I was a day early with this one, so here it is for you! I extend a very sincere thank-you to Fauna Greywolf, HobbitBabe, and pucktofaerie for the time they took to review the story. Thanks so much, guys! It means a lot.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's shorter than the other two, but is a little bit of a go-between for future events. No new characters this time, just some old favorites. I'll cut myself off right here before I get off on a tangent. Thank you all once again!

-H.C. Glennteade

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, any part of MGM's 1939 movie, The Wizard of Oz. All characters and locations mentioned here are property of their respective owners and creators.

Her auburn locks clung to the back of her neck with sweat, but Dorothy never paused to rest. The young lady mercilessly stabbed the ground with her hoe, unearthing a variety of weeds. It was work that had to be done, but it also relieved her of a great deal of stress.

A week had passed since the summer began and her teaching career had ended. Still feeling horribly ashamed, she had yet to tell anyone of the incident. No matter how much she loved teaching, it wasn't herself that she felt sorry for. Dorothy was more upset for poor Toto, whom she had finally found out was killed as part of a cruel act of revenge, and Uncle Henry, who appeared to have enough troubles of his own without adding the girl's to his list. With each new thought came more frustration, and so she continued to chop at the soil around her.

Zeke watched as the young girl avidly completed her chore and sighed. There was no doubt that she was concerned for Henry, whose condition was swiftly declining, but he feared that Dorothy was going to hurt herself. Every night that past school year, when she was through teaching, she came home and got to work again. And now that sessions were over for the summer, the girl was out seemingly as much as he and the others, and never stopped to rest until forced.

"Now, Dorothy, let me handle that," the older farmhand pleaded, walking up to her.

"Thank you, Zeke," she replied, regulating her breathing to hide any hint of fatigue, "but that's quite all right. You have enough of your own work to do."

He moaned inwardly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

"Yeah, Zeke," came a voice from behind. Both Dorothy and Zeke turned to realize the speaker was Hunk, who along with Hickory, had come to join in.

"She has the summer off," he continued, "and finally has time to get all that work done she's been wanting to do." None of them could help but chuckle, even Dorothy, who paused momentarily.

She felt horrible for not telling them what happened. They ought to be told, she thought, since they had supported her and her ideas of teaching from the very beginning. They were the ones who had encouraged her to apply for the position when the school first sought out a teacher, and they shared in the joys and triumphs that her first - and last - year of teaching had brought her.

She sighed. "I have plenty more time off than just the summer, Hunk," the girl finally admitted.

The men's laughter and smiles vanished as they took in Dorothy's tone of voice.

"What do you mean?" Questioned Hickory.

With every ounce of strength she could muster up, the young lady began to speak without falter, "The chairman of the school board spoke to me on the last day of school. I'm not to go back next year. They haven't the need for me anymore."

"What?" An incredulous Zeke asked. "Why not?"

Her voice now more evidently tinged with sadness, she explained, "Well, Almira Gulch's nephew is . . .or rather, was, one of my students. His family feels that his poor grades are a reflection of my partialness rather than his lack of ambition, and so it's been decided that it is in the school's best interest that they find a new teacher."

The three men fell silent, having no words to express what they felt that were fitting for a young lady to hear. A moment after Dorothy spoke, Hunk moved closer to her and in an attempt to cheer up the somber girl, quickly wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed them before stepping back, searching her face for a trace of a smile. "Don't worry about it, Dorothy," he offered, "they're the ones missing out, most certainly not you." Zeke and Hickory offered their agreements.

"Oh, thank you so much," she spoke between a sad smile, "but it's not me I'm worried about. It's Uncle Henry. I've been so fearful for him lately, I truly have been. He's just not the same anymore. I haven't had the heart to tell him yet. I just can't imagine what I'd say . . ."

"I'm sure he'll understand, kid," Zeke said.

"Lord knows you tried, Dorothy," Hickory chimed in, "your uncle knows what kind of people make up that family."

The girl tried to agree with them, but she felt as guilty as ever. Inside, Dorothy felt personally responsible for the whole vendetta, and felt that somehow, she had damaged the family name - a name that Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had been very generous to share with her. Even though their farm was among those doing the best in the area, Dorothy felt that the schoolhouse ordeal should have never happened, and that the only reason it did, and the only reason the little feud existed, for that matter, was because of her.

Finding nothing to rid her of her remorse, Dorothy temporarily accepted defeat and returned to her weeding, her mind searching for the words she'd tell her loving uncle.