Evan made breakfast the next morning. Pancakes with scrambled eggs and sausage. His eggs were burned, and so were some

of the pancakes. He got downright snarly when Ford and Daniel kept teasing him about it.

I ate some eggs, and drank my orange juice. When I was done, I went into the living room and sat down at Crane's desk.

I was sifting thru some of the papers on the desk, until Crane came up behind me, and asked me what I was looking for.

"Guthrie said we had checks, for helping with the dogs."

"Yeah." Crane reached around me, and pulled a couple of envelopes out of one of the compartments.

He handed me one of them, and laid the other one back on the desk.

I opened the envelope, addressed to Miss Harlie McFadden.

I was surprised by the amount.

"Look, Crane," I said, holding the check out for him to look at.

Crane took it, looked it over, and whistled. "Not too shabby," he said.

When he handed the check back to me, I sat there, looking at it for a minute.

"Better put it back in the envelope until you get it to the bank," Crane advised.

I did as he said, and then went in search of brothers with wheels.

I knew the Jeep was not an option, which was why I hadn't asked Crane. Evan was not likely, either. He'd forgiven me, I knew,

but that didn't mean he would let me borrow his truck. Ford and Guthrie were the best bet.

Ford was coming out of the barn, carrying two buckets of soybean meal and corn for the pigs.

"Can I borrow your truck?" I asked him.

"To go where?"

"I want to go to the bank and cash my check, and then I want to go talk to Marie."

Ford looked like he was considering.

"Or take me, if you don't want me to drive it by myself," I said, in resignation.

"It's not that, goofy, and you know it."

"I wouldn't be gone long. And I won't go anywhere besides the bank and the café. I promise," I assured him.

"Okay." Ford set the buckets down and fished in his jeans pocket for his keys.

He handed them to me, and picked up the buckets again.

"Thanks, Ford."

"It's okay. See you later."

I went into the house, pulling on my jacket which I hadn't put on when I'd went in search of Ford.

I went to the kitchen, where Clare and Hannah were working, rolling out pie crusts. Isaac was in his baby

seat, sitting on the table.

I leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

"We're making pies for tomorrow," Hannah told me. "There's going to be a meal after the funeral."

"I'm not staying for a dinner," I said shortly.

"That's fine," Hannah said, pausing in her rolling with the rolling pin to look up at me.

"I'm going into town for a little bit," I said. "Alright?"

Hannah was surprised, I could see. I couldn't blame her. I hadn't gone anywhere near town in days.

"Where to?" she asked, looking concerned.

"To the bank. And to talk to Marie."

"Oh. Well, alright," Hannah said, looking mollified. "You'll be home before lunch, though?"

I said I would, because I could tell she wanted me to say yes.

"Is that jacket heavy enough?" she asked me, going back to her rolling of pie crust.

"It's fine. See you later."

They both said goodbye to me, and I went out, climbing into Ford's truck, and starting it.

I was halfway down the driveway when I saw Adam waving at me from the fence row. It wasn't a friendly hello or a goodbye wave, or even a see

you later wave.

It was one that plainly said to stop. I sighed, and stopped, putting the truck into park, and getting out. I walked over

to the fence row to where he was, wearing his fencing gloves, and a wire snipper in his hand.

"Where are you off to?" he asked me.

"Just to town to cash my check. And to visit Marie for a little while."

"Hmmm." Adam plainly found it puzzling that I suddenly had the urge to go to town. "Did you ask permission?"

"I asked Hannah. And Ford said I could borrow his truck."

"Okay." He still looked hesitant.

I knew he was just concerned about me, so I tried to tamp down my frustration.

"I told Hannah I'd be home by lunchtime," I volunteered, to mollify him.

"Alright. Drive safe. Wear your seatbelt."

"Uh huh," I said, turning to walk back to the truck, which I'd left with the engine running, and the door open.

"I didn't hear you!" he called after me.

I stepped up on the running board and looked across the top of the truck at him.

"Drive safe, wear my seatbelt, don't drive thru high water! Got it! Yes, sir!" I called back.

"Don't be a smart mouth," he hollered back.

7

When I got to Murphys, I parked Ford's truck all the way down by the hardware store, planning to walk to the bank,

and then the further distance to the café. I knew it was foolish of me, but I didn't want to park anywhere near the veterinary office.

I cashed my check at the bank. Miss McCool, who has been a teller at the bank for as long as I can remember, regarded

me with sympathy. I guessed that I shouldn't be surprised. Everybody knew how much time I'd spent with Doc G. It was

logical that folks would know how close we had been.

I tried to curtail her saying anything to me, to the point that I was nearly curt, so that I could just get out of there.

I put the money in my jacket pocket, and walked to the café, carefully avoiding looking towards the vet office.

I went inside, the bell jingling over the door. Since the breakfast rush was over, and the lunch rush hadn't begun yet,

there were only a couple of customers. Marie, who was bent over the counter talking to old Carl Wade, looked up and

saw me, and her face brightened in welcome.

"Hullo, honey girl," she greeted me, coming over to meet me.

"Hi, Marie."

Marie squeezed my hands in hers, and looked me directly in the eye. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too."

"You got some brothers with you?" she asked, taking a quick look out the window, as if to spot male McFaddens.

"No."

"So I get to have your company for a bit?"

I nodded. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Alright." She gestured towards the counter. "Is this a counter or a table chat?"

I didn't want anyone overhearing our conversation, so I said, "Table, I think."

"Alright. How about a glass of milk?"

I would have preferred a cup of hot, strong coffee, but I nodded and said, "Yes. Thank you."

"You go sit, and I'll be right over," she told me.

I purposefully picked a table near the front, not near Doc G and I's regular booth.

A few minutes later, Marie came over to sit down across from me, a glass of milk in her hand.

She put the glass in front of me.

"How's the baby?" she began by asking.

"He's doing good. He's changing every day, it seems like."

"I'll be anxious to see him."

I took a drink of milk, and then reached for a napkin. I wiped my mouth, but I really wanted the napkin to hold, to fold into

rows, to keep my hands busy.

"What is it, honey girl?" Marie asked, coming right to the point. "What's on your mind?"

"I have some questions. I don't know who else to ask."

"Well, I'll answer them if I can," she said.

"About Doc G," I clarified.

Marie didn't look surprised. "Alright."

"It was like, even though I knew him really well, I didn't really know a lot about him."

"He was close-mouthed about himself, that's a fact," Marie agreed.

"He was born in Ireland," I said, and Marie nodded.

"Yes."

"And he had a brother that died before they came to the United States."

"Yes."

"I don't know what happened to his brother. He didn't tell me that," I said.

"That I don't know, either. He has a sister, too. I think she's been living in Oregon."

"He didn't tell me about a sister," I said.

"She was born after they came to the United States."

"Oh." I thought for a minute.

"Was he ever married?" I asked.

"He was, early on, in his twenties. She was killed in a car accident."

"Oh." I felt bad for the young Doc G. "That's sad."

"It is. Her name was Truly."

I thought I'd misunderstood. "Trudy?" I asked.

"No. Truly."

"I never heard of anyone named that before."

"It's not common," Marie agreed.

"It's pretty, though. I like it." I hesitated. "Did they have kids?" I couldn't imagine Doc G having kids that didn't want to

live around him, and be with him, right here in Murphys.

"No. They'd only been married a few months when she was killed."

"He would have been a good father," I said, my eyes filling with tears.

"Yes. He would have." Marie reached over and pulled out a cluster of napkins and laid them in front of me.

I wiped at my eyes with one of them.

"What will happen to all of his things at the office?"

"Well, eventually, there may be a new veterinarian here in Murphys." Marie's voice was gentle, though her words were

blunt.

I didn't want to think about that.

"Doc owned the building though, so I'm not sure how all that will be worked out," Marie added.

I wiped at my eyes again, and crunched the napkin into a ball.

"He was a little bit like a father to me," I said, and then immediately felt disloyal to Adam and Brian. "Is that

wrong of me to feel that way?"

"Of course not. Why would it be wrong?"

"Because. Because of the guys. You know," I tried to explain.

"I don't think any of the boys would fault you for thinking of Doc in that way."

"It's not like I was lacking anything, it's just that he added something to my life," I said, in explanation, and

then I began to cry. I laid my head on the table, trying to cry quietly, so old Carl Wade wouldn't hear me.

Marie let me cry, and finally I was able to stop, though my head was beginning to ache.

I raised my head, and dried my face with another napkin.

"Did he know he had something wrong with his heart?" I asked her.

"I don't know, honey girl. He never confided in me about that."

"Adam said you were the person that the deputies called."

"Yes. That's right."

"And it was quick, they think?"

"Yes. They think it was. He was apparently able to stop safely when he started having the heart attack, because his truck was pulled

off to the side of the road."

We sat quietly for a few minutes. There was a light rain starting outside.

Some more customers were beginning to come in now, and Marie looked at me. "Want to help me set up for lunch?"

I nodded. "Yes. Sure."

"Alright. Go wash your face in the back room, and then you can start filling the condiments and the napkin containers."

"Especially this one, right?" I asked, pointing to the dispenser that I'd used so many of the napkins out of, with my tears.

Marie patted my cheek and smiled at my weak attempt at humor.

"Yes. Especially that one."

7

I felt a little better after my talk with Marie, and was halfway home, listening to an upbeat George Jones song

when I saw a blue pickup in the road ahead of me, pulled to the side, and someone changing a flat tire.

I slowed down to go around, and then, when I saw who it was, I hesitated, and then stopped, pulling to the

side of the road, and parking carefully.

The rain had tapered off, but the ground was wet, and so were the knees of Eddie's jeans, as he knelt beside the truck.

"Hello, Harlie," he greeted me.

"Hello, Eddie."

"How have you been?" he asked me.

Before I could answer, he shook his head. "That's a stupid question. I'm sorry, Harlie."

"It's okay."

"It's a damn shame about Doc G," he said.

"Yeah. It is."

We looked at each other for a couple of moments, and then I said, "I stopped to see if you needed a ride, or for me to call somebody,

or anything."

"Naw, I think I've got it handled." He stood up, wiping his muddy hands on his jeans.

"Okay. I better get going. Ford will be wondering where I'm at."

He nodded, and I hesitated, and then gathered my nerve, and said, "I've been wanting to apologize to you."

"For what?"

"The night of that party-I acted really stupid, and I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. I know you were just trying

to help me."

I'd surprised him. I could tell by the expression on his face.

"That's alright. Everybody's entitled to some crazy now and then," he said.

I found myself smiling at that, and he smiled back. That great smile, with those perfect teeth.

"So Ford and Evan rounded you up that night, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. They sure did."

"Evan was pretty mad, it sounded like on the phone. He have something to say to you, did he?"

"He did," I acknowledged.

"Well, they're good guys. Both of 'em."

"Yes. They are."

Another moment of silence, and I said, "Well, I better go. Bye."

"Bye, Harlie. You take care."

"You, too."

As I pulled onto the road, and drove away, I looked once in the rearview mirror, and Eddie was still standing there, in the same spot,

watching me go. I wondered why.

7

I picked at my lunch, enough so that Hannah said, "You need to eat."

"I am," I said.

"You didn't eat much supper last night."

"I ate breakfast," I reminded her. I only meant it as a reminder. I wasn't trying to be curt or rude. But it must have sounded

that way because Crane, from across the table said, "Harlie."

His voice wasn't harsh, or sharp, but it got my attention, and when I looked at him, he raised an eyebrow at me.

I sighed. It seemed like I couldn't say anything without somebody getting onto me about it.

"Sorry," I said, to Hannah.

"I don't mean to nag you," she said.

"I know." I looked at her. "Can I finish my sandwich later? I'm just not hungry right now."

Hannah nodded, looking reluctant.

I picked up my plate, and went to put it in the refrigerator, and then went out the back door, grabbing a jacket off the

hook. Clarence was laying on the back steps, the blue blanket under his chin.

"Come with me," I told him, and he got to his feet, following me slowly across the yard to the hammock. Noone had used it for awhile,

and I brushed the leaves and twigs out of it, before I lifted Clarence up into it. Then I settled myself next to him.

I laid there for a long time, looking up at the blue in the sky, with Clarence's head on my stomach.

"What are we gonna do without him, Clarence?" I said softly.

In response, Clarence gave a sad whimper.

7

Ford came over a little while later, looking down at me with a slight grin.

"You still have my keys?" he asked me.

I shifted in the hammock, causing Clarence to groan. "Yes. Here," I said, pulling the keys out of jeans pocket and

handing them to him.

"Thanks," Ford said, jingling the keys in his hand.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I thought I'd run in to the library. See if they have any books on Macaws."

"How come?"

"I just want to learn some more about them. Captain Jack's caught my interest."

He started off, then turned back. "Hannah wants you."

"What for?"

"I don't know. I'm just the messenger."

I sighed, and held out my hand to him. "Help me up, will you?"

Ford gave me a hand up, and I lifted Clarence to the ground.

I went in thru the back door, but the kitchen was unoccupied.

The entire house was quiet, and I passed thru the living room, going up the stairs. The door to Hannah and Adam's

bedroom was half-open, half-closed, and I tapped on it lightly.

"Is that you, Harlie?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah."

"Come in, sweetie."

I pushed the door open. Hannah was sitting up on the bed, her legs stretched out in front of her, nursing the baby.

"Ford said you wanted me."

"I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. Come over here and sit down with me."

I went to crawl onto the bed, onto the other side of Hannah, sitting there while she nursed Isaac, and then

burped him, patting his back gently.

She held him then, until he was sleeping, and then she laid him between us.

When he stirred a little, she offered him his pacifier.

"What do you plan on wearing tomorrow?" she asked me.

"I don't know," I said dully. "Does it matter?"

"Harlie," she said, quietly reproving. "I'm not saying it's the most important thing, no. But you want to look nice. I

was thinking your black skirt and that white blouse with the lacy sleeves would be good."

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"Go look for them, then. I think they're in the back of our closet."

Since my room is so small, and doesn't have a closet, I keep my dress clothes in Adam and Hannah's closet.

I got up and obediently went to the big walk-in closet, shuffling thru to the back, where most of my church clothes

are hanging. I found the skirt, and the blouse Hannah was talking about, and pulled them out impatiently.

I laid them on the bed, and Hannah picked them up. "The skirt looks alright, but the lace has a small tear right here."

"I'll wear something else, then."

"I can fix it. Hand me my sewing basket, and I'll mend it."

I went to get the sewing basket off the top of the bookshelf and handed it to her.

"Can you put Isaac in his crib?" she asked me, and I lifted the baby, carefully laying him in his crib in the corner of the room,

and covered his legs with a blanket.

"Come and sit down with me," she said, threading a needle and beginning to mend the lace on the sleeve.

I went to sit beside her again.

"School starts back next week, hmm?" she said.

"Unfortunately."

"You like school. Why are you talking that way?"

"I just don't want to think about it. It's going to be hard to concentrate."

"You've heard me talk about my grandfather," Hannah said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Yeah."

"He was pretty special to me. Since my dad wasn't around, he filled a place for me. I was around your age when

he died."

I nodded, wondering where Hannah was going with this conversation.

"We used to spend a lot of time together, going out to this spot where a pair of eagles had a nest. We'd sit there for hours,

looking thru binoculars, and watching. Those are some of my most treasured memories."

"We didn't have much money when he died, so his gravestone wasn't fancy, but I saved my money for awhile, and bought a ceramic eagle

that I had fastened onto the stone with wires," Hannah continued.

"That was nice," I said.

"It was something to sort of commemorate our time together," she said.

"It's a good idea," I agreed.

"It helped me, somehow, knowing the eagle was there. I don't know why, exactly, but it did. I thought it might be something

you'd want to consider."

"Oh. You mean, for Doc G?"

"Yes. It's just a suggestion."

I leaned against Hannah's shoulder, and we talked about other things for awhile. It was cozy, and peaceful, sitting there with her,

and Isaac nearby, sleeping. That was how Adam found us, when he came in, sitting there together.

7