Thanks so much for all the reviews. So motivating.

I waited outside for Guthrie at the bottom of the steps of the front doors where we came out of school. I was really nervous for him- more nervous than I'd be for myself in that situation. I've always felt protective over him, and I hate when he's in trouble even more than when I'm in trouble myself, even to this day. I looked at my watch nervously. The last school bus left 30 minutes after the end of school, and if we missed it, we would need to call home and ask someone to pick us up. They'd want to know why we missed the bus and it would all come out. Although, I reasoned to myself, they were going to find out anyway, because Mrs Whitby would surely call home.

15 minutes passed, then 20. I was resigning myself to the fact that we were going to miss the bus, when the double doors burst open, and Guthrie and Michael came running down the steps.

Michael ran off towards his own bus; his bus took a different route, towards Murphys, whereas ours went out further north. He glanced at me furtively before he ran off, but then ignored me completely.

"Guthrie!" I said, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward saying, "Quick- we need to get the bus."

We ran for the bus and managed to board it with a couple of minutes to spare. It was packed and there were no seats next to each other, so Guthrie found a seat near the front, and I had to sit at the back next to a fellow girl in our class, Ruth, who I found incredibly annoying because she didn't know when to stop talking. The good thing about Ruth though, is that she doesn't need a response. While she rabbited on and on about the pony her daddy was getting her for her birthday, I half listened while watching the back of Guthrie's head in front of me, trying to work out what had happened with Mrs Whitby.

Even when we got off the bus at our stop, we couldn't speak properly because a couple of kids from neighboring ranches got off with us. It was only when they dropped away towards their own homes and we were on the home stretch to our own ranch that I had a chance to properly grill him.

"So? What happened?" I asked the minute the last kid had fallen away.

Guthrie looked down and kicked a stone in front of him. Then he looked at me.

"It's gonna be fine," he said confidently.

"Huh?" I asked, confused. "What d'you mean?"

"I told Mrs Whitby that it was all my fault. That I copied from Michael and that he didn't know anything about it."

I was taken aback.

"And she believed you?"

"Yea, I think so. I mean she asked some questions but then she said she's gonna give me a 0 on the test and call home tonight."

For someone in trouble, Guthrie was sounding incredibly calm. It was weird.

"How's it gonna be fine? That doesn't sound like fine!" I said.

Guthrie shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

"It'll be fine for Michael."

"But not for you!" I said. I grabbed his wrist. "Guth if you don't tell what really happened, you'll get a spanking among other things. You know how much they hate cheating."

I saw a hint of something- I wouldn't call it fear, - more like apprehension- in Guthrie's eyes when he looked at me, but he seemed to steel himself and then it was gone.

"I can take it," he said. "If Michael's safe, I can take it."

At hearing the words, 'Michael' and 'safe', my stomach lurched again.

"You gotta tell, Guthrie," I said. "Adam and Brian, they always know what to do; they always know how to help. They can help Michael and his mom. And I'll bet Adam won't spank you if he knows what really happened."

We were walking down our long, dusty track towards the house by that time. Guthrie stopped walking, almost abruptly and said, vehemently, "No, Heidi. I made a promise. You know what the guys are always saying about promises. I gotta keep it."

I did know: our brothers said that a real man, or woman as the case may be, kept their word, or their promise and that you should never make a promise you can't keep.

"I didn't promise though…" I said, softly.

Guthrie's head swivelled round freakishly quickly to look at me head on. I saw real hardness in his eyes which shocked me because Guthrie never looks at me this way.

"Do you want Michael's to get hurt? Or his mom?" he demanded.

"No! But-,"

"If you tell, Heidi, that's what's gonna happen and I promise that I will never ever trust you again and I'll never tell you another thing as long as I live."

"Guthrie!" I said, shocked at his vehemence.

"I mean it!" he said, almost yelling. He ran off then, toward the barn leaving me to go into the house on my own.

/

The house, with the twinkling Christmas tree and other decorations in the living room, seemed warm and welcoming as I went inside. There were voices coming from the direction of the kitchen- I made it out to be Crane and Ford, but I felt like I needed some time to myself. I called out hello to them so they would know I was home and then went straight up to my bedroom and wrote in my journal about the day's events. When I'd finished, I felt a little calmer but still no closer to knowing what to do about the situation between Guthrie and Michael so I started drawing instead. I kept imagining Michael's horrible father hurting him and his mom. I understood how Guthrie felt- I wasn't close to Michael at all but I still couldn't bear the idea of him being in danger in some way. But I also didn't want Guthrie to be in trouble at something that wasn't his fault. I felt weighed down with the burden and wished I could talk to someone about it.

While I was mulling over my drawing, there was a soft knock at the door and when I turned to look, Crane was standing there. He was wearing his jacket.

"Hey, little one, how was school?"

I couldn't meet Crane's eye when I told him it had been fine.

"You don't want your after-school snack?"

The way he said it was more like a statement than a question. I knew it must have seemed strange because normally, we were all ravenous after school. Today, I just didn't feel like it and told Crane so.

"Huh," Crane said.

Even though I'd gone back to my drawing, I could feel his eyes on me.

"I'm going to the bank in Murphys to deposit a couple of things. D'you want to come? You could go to the library and pick out some new books."

That caught my interest. Only the day before I'd been complaining at supper that I'd finished reading all my library books and wanted to go and get some new ones. Plus, I reasoned, it would take my mind off my conundrum.

"Okay," I said.

"Meet me in the truck in 5 minutes," Crane said.

It took me more than 5 minutes because I had to empty my backpack of my school stuff and gather up the library books which were scattered in various places around my room to put into my backpack. Then it took me a little bit longer to find my library card.

Crane didn't complain about how long I'd taken though when I hopped into the truck next to him. He had the window rolled down and was talking to Daniel who was trying to persuade Crane to also go to the grocery store.

"And can you get Mallomars- not the nasty fake kind like Brian gets, the real kind," Daniel said.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best," Crane said.

As we drove down our driveway, we passed Evan in the paddock with Diablo. I spotted a speck in the distance on horseback, too small to identify although I surmised it would be Adam or Brian.

I was very quiet, lost in my own thoughts as we drove to Murphys, a fact which did not escape Crane's observation. He asked me a couple of times if I was alright, and when I assured him I was, he said mildly, " It's just that you've been bouncing off the walls with happiness since Saturday and now you're down in the dumps so it's not unreasonable to assume something's happened."

I sighed heavily but didn't reply to him.

"A problem shared is a problem halved you know."

"I can't," I said, softly.

Crane frowned as he slowed down a little to let another car overtake us.

"Why not?"

"I just… can't…"

"Heidi, you can always talk to me. Or Adam or Brian. Always. You know that, right?"

I nodded but busied myself with unzipping my backpack and then zipping it back up again rather than looking at Crane. Crane must have seen me nod though, because he didn't ask for a verbal reply.

Crane didn't press me any further, for which I was glad. He put the radio on for the rest of the journey. When we pulled into Main Street, he parked the truck and told me to go on to the library.

"I'll meet you in there when I'm done," he said.

When I walked into the library, the librarian Mrs Poots greeted me warmly. I told Mrs Poots that Crane was home from college and would be along soon. Her face lit up. I knew she adored Crane. She'd been the librarian there all my life, and all Crane's life too he'd told me once. My love for reading had really been encouraged by Crane; he'd been a library regular since he was little and he'd been bringing me here for a few years since I'd learned to read. Before Crane could drive, Adam or Brian would drive us in when they needed something in town. Crane had brought Guthrie too at first, but although Guthie liked to be read to in class or at bedtime, he's not such a fan of quiet time with a book. He had been hard to contain, Crane said, zooming around the aisles, whereas I'd grabbed a handful of picture books from the shelf and plonked myself down on the carpet to read them quietly.

Mrs Poots checked my books back in for me and then gave me some recommendations on some books she thought I'd like. She told me about some books from an author called Beverly Cleary.

"This is the first one," Mrs Poots said, handing me over a book that said 'Beezus and Ramona' written on the front cover. "It's about a couple of sisters. You'll most likely find the level easy for you, but I think you'd enjoy the story."

I decided to check that one out, along with the next two in the series, "Ramona the Pest" and "Ramona the Brave" and I also took out a book called "Carrie's War" about life for children in WW2. I loved reading about history and about different countries, plus Mrs Poots said I'd find the reading age on that book for challenging.

Crane arrived holding a paper bag with some groceries in it just as I was packing up my backpack with my new books. Mrs Poots gave him a big hug and he kissed her on the cheek. I read a little of Beezus and Ramona while Mrs Poots asked him all about college. I think she'd have liked to talk to him longer but then Crane put a hand on my head and said we needed to be getting home for supper.

On the ride home, Crane asked me about which books I'd checked out. I told him, but due to the yawning uncomfortable pit in my stomach, I couldn't muster up much enthusiasm when talking to him.

After I was done telling him, I turned the radio on, hoping he would leave me be to my thoughts. The minute I turned it on though, Crane reached over and turned it off.

I looked at him quizzically.

"Please can we turn the radio on?" I asked.

"In a minute; I want to talk to you first."

"Okay…"

"Earlier, on the drive in, you said that can't talk to me. I was just wondering why that is."

I sighed. I should have known that Crane wouldn't leave it. That he was biding his time. He's way more patient than either Adam or Brian, but he's just as stubborn.

"I just can't, Crane," I said. "Please can we just leave it now?"

"Did you make a promise to someone?"

"No… I didn't make a promise."

That was true. Guthrie had promised not to tell, not me.

"Because if you did make a promise," Crane went on relentlessly, "It's okay to break promises sometimes. Sometimes you should break a promise."

I turned to look at him.

"Like when?"

"Like when someone is in trouble and you don't know how to fix it. Or when you think someone's in danger. Remember a few weeks ago, when you caught Daniel leaving in the middle of the night with the car?"

I nodded. "Uh huh."

"You realised that telling someone, even though you didn't want to snitch on Daniel, was the right thing to do because Daniel needed help. Right?"

I nodded again and started to unconsciously bite the skin around my thumb which is something I do when I'm nervous.

"Well that kind of situation is the kind where it's okay to break a promise."

"I didn't make a promise," I repeated softly.

We were crossing the bridge now, edging ever closer to home.

"Alright."

Crane looked at me quickly and then back at the road.

"I can't make you talk to me, Heidi. But I hope you'll think carefully about what I've just said."

"Okay," I said, my voice almost a whisper. My tummy really hurt. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the windowpane on the passenger's side, my thoughts and feelings roiling.

/

Supper was being dished up when Crane and I arrived home- chicken pot pie, green beans and salad. Daniel asked Crane if he'd picked up the Mallomars and Crane said he had. Brian grumbled that there was nothing wrong with the alternative brand and that they were cheaper.

Crane and I took our places at the table. I'd been silent the rest of the journey home, just contemplating what Crane had said. I wasn't hungry at all- I get like that when something's bothering me. Guthrie wasn't hungry either- I could tell. He was sitting in his usual place when we were younger, opposite me on Adam's left side while I was on Adam's right. I watched him pick at his food and he seemed lost in his own thoughts. I kept trying to catch his attention, but he was studiously avoiding my efforts. Clearly, Mrs Whitby hadn't called home yet; Adam and Brian were in too good a mood.

Adam noticed us pick at our food. He almost always notices everything like that, especially when we were little.

"What's the matter, babies?" he asked, using the collective family name for Guthrie and me.

I don't mind when Adam and Brian call me that; most of the time I don't even notice- they still sometimes call me that to this day, but Guthrie had hated it for a while and he snappily told Adam so and that nothing was wrong.

Brian raised his eyebrows. "I think they need an early night," he said to Adam talking about us over our heads in that infuriating way that he and Adam did sometimes.

"It seems so," Adam said.

I felt vastly irritated and I could tell Guthrie did too, but neither of us said anything. We made more of an effort to eat after that.

Adam and Brian joined in with the wider conversation at the table which was dominated by Daniel, instructing us all in arrangements for his performance with his band which we would all be going to see at the high school talent show the following evening.

"Don't sit too near to the front or to the back. And be on time," he said. "It'll be really disruptive if you arrive late."

"What about making a 'We love Daniel banner'; can we do that?" Crane asked with a straight face.

"Yea, and can we stand up and chant your name when you come on stage?" Brian asked.

"NO!" Daniel said.

"Can we make T-shirts with your face on them?" Evan said.

"NO!"

My brothers called out more and more outlandish suggestions trying to rile Daniel up though, and it became extra funny because he kept taking the bait, though I could tell he was also hamming up his reaction for theatrical effect.

"DO NOT embarrass me!" he said.

"But it'll be so much fun!" Ford said.

We were all laughing now, even Guthrie and me. Then I heard the ringing of the telephone and I knew, I just knew it was going to be Mrs Whitby on the phone. Brian says I've got a sixth sense about things, but really, who else was it going to be?

My other brothers paid no mind to it, continuing to laugh and joke, but Guthrie met my eyes for the first time that evening and we shared a meaningful look. Adam got up to answer the phone.

He was gone for quite a while. Not a ridiculous amount of time, but longer than your average phone call. The longer he was away, the more nervous I began to feel for Guthrie. I could see the obvious discomfort he was in and I knew that it wasn't just about the threat of a spanking or other punishment. He worshipped both our oldest brothers – still does to this day. He would be devastated that they were disappointed in him.

When Adam finally returned to the table, he sat down and cast Guthrie a serious, raised eyebrows look. Guthrie looked down at his plate.

"Who was on the phone?" Brian asked.

"I'll tell you later," Adam said quietly.

Adam didn't act any different than he had earlier for the rest of the meal. We had dessert- just some ice cream which I ate but couldn't enjoy.

When we'd finished, Crane and Ford started clearing the plates as they were on dish duty.

Adam looked at Guthrie and said very sternly but quietly, "I think you know that we have something to discuss upstairs, young man."

Guthrie nodded.

"What's goin' on?" Brian said.

"I'll tell you upstairs," Adam said.

"Go wait for us in your room," Adam said to Guthrie.

Guthrie made to leave the table. But as he did, I felt like I was going to burst. Everything was sitting in my chest, desperate to climb out. I couldn't, just couldn't sit by and watch Guthrie get into trouble for helping someone. If he'd hate me forever, I'd take that chance.

"Guthrie, wait!" I said.

Guthrie turned and gave me a hard look which I knew was his way of warning me to be quiet.

"Crane said it's okay to break a promise sometimes."

"A promise? What promise?" Brian said.

"He said that sometimes you need to break a promise if someone's hurt or in danger," I continued.

I think I sounded shrill and the obvious drama had caught the attention of everyone else. I looked over at Crane; he nodded at me, imperceptibly, but enough that it gave me courage to continue.

"You gotta tell the truth, Guth about what really happened!"

"Shut up, Heidi!" Guthrie said. He sounded on the verge of tears.

"Guthrie!" Adam scolded, "Don't speak to your sister like that."

"Will someone please tell me what is goin' on!" Brian said.

And then Guthrie burst out into full on tears and ran away from the table upstairs and I started to cry too, pulling my legs up onto the chair and burying my head into my knees.