Charlie changed her clothes, shedding the heavy, wet dress and petticoats and rubbing herself dry. When she had on her

overalls once again, she felt decidedly better.

Her stomach was protesting vehemently at being empty for so long, and she went to the kitchen, using an oven mitt to take the plate

out, that had been left for her.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, eating the baked chicken and scalloped potatoes, with string beans, and a large piece

of Maria's homemade bread, when Scott came in.

He went to the icebox and took out a jug of milk, going to the cabinet and pulling down two glasses. When he'd filled them,

he set one down in front of Charlie, and then sat across from her, holding the other in his hands.

"Thank you," Charlie said. "I was real hungry," she added, indicating her nearly-empty plate.

"There's some pie, too. Cherry."

"Yum," Charlie said.

Scott took a drink from his milk glass, and asked, "How was the last day at school?"

"Miss Susan talked to every single one of us alone, as a goodbye, I guess."

"That was a kind thing for her to do," Scott said.

Charlie nodded, and said, "She said some nice things to me."

"Did she?" Scott asked, looking interested.

"Yes. She said that I've grown up a lot since she first met me. And, that she thinks I can be a really good student." She took a drink

of her own milk, and added, in honesty, "If I work hard, and don't get distracted."

Scott nodded in acknowledgement, and said, "I think you can do that. Can't you?"

Charlie met his eyes across the table, and nodded back. "I'll really try."

"Did you stop this morning to buy her a gift?"

"Yes. A pen. She said she'll use it to write me a letter," Charlie said.

"That's good."

He stood up, going to the counter, where the pie was covered with a towel, and cut two pieces, bringing them

back over to the table.

As they sat across from one another, eating the pieces of cherry pie, Charlie thought how cozy it was in the kitchen,

just the two of them. The quiet wasn't uncomfortable. Into the closeness, Charlie spoke up. "I didn't go swimming, Scott,"

she told him, once again, her voice earnest.

Scott met her eyes, and then, he waited, sensing that she was going to say more.

"And, I know you said to be careful, and not be fooling around-but they were splashing us, and pushing-" she hesitated, and then

added, swiftly, "Not to hurt us, just playing. And I was so near the edge that I fell in."

Scott was looking serious, very serious, and Charlie suddenly found her heart thumping.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked him.

Scott sighed. "No. I'm not mad at you."

"Jason helped me out-I think I would have been alright, because I was so near the bank, but I went under

and it made me sort of scared-" Charlie admitted.

Scott looked considering, and worried, and Charlie could almost see his mind turning over his thoughts.

"I guess you won't let me go anymore," Charlie said, dejected.

"No," Scott said, and Charlie felt her heart sink. Until his next words. "Not until you've mastered swimming, and

I'm able to feel sure that you could save yourself. So, swimming lessons need to start as soon as possible."

Charlie gave him a full-out dimpled smile. "You mean it?"

"I mean it."

"Tomorrow-we could do a lesson tomorrow," Charlie said, looking at him hopefully. "Couldn't we?"

"We'll try to squeeze one in in the afternoon, if we can."

Charlie gave him another smile.

L

The thought of having an extended break from school appealed to Charlie. At first. After a few days went by, though,

she found that it wasn't as appealing as she'd imagined it would be. She missed Rebecca and Jason, and even Monte. There were

plenty of chores to do, to keep her days occupied. And, it was pleasant to have time to rowdy with the two pups, and have lots of hours

to lay in the barn loft and read. But, again, she missed seeing the other kids.

It didn't help that Scott had been too busy to do the promised swimming lesson at the creek. He'd apologized to Charlie, but

said that there were things he had to get completed. There was fencing that needed to be taken down, and another area that fencing

had to be put up. There had been several cattle that were ill, and two ranch hands had come down with chest infections, and were

confined to the bunkhouse, per doctor's orders.

Thus, Scott was stretched thin with his time, and Charlie was still waiting for her first official swimming lesson.

At the end of that week, with six days down with no school, Charlie had reached the point where she was less enchanted

with being at the ranch all day, every day. They hadn't even gone to church on the previous Sunday because of all the work that

needed to be done.

On Friday of that week, Maria left to go and help her niece with her new baby. She was sent along with gifts from the Lancers.

A beautiful baby blanket, and a teething ring.

Supper was simple. Teresa served a cold soup, which was a new recipe she'd wanted to try. Charlie didn't care for the taste

of it at all. She wrinkled her nose, but without comments, knowing that any rudeness on her part wouldn't be tolerated.

She helped herself to more homemade bread, slathered in peach jam so that she could exchange bites of that sweetness with

the soup.

"I guess it's not the best, is it?" Teresa asked, wrinkling her own nose.

"It's nice, having something different for a change," Murdoch said, loyally, smiling at her.

L

Finally, on Sunday afternoon, Scott took Charlie to the creek, and gave her a swimming lesson. Up to this point, Charlie had

always dog-paddled if she found herself in water over her head, and when Scott told her to show him what she was able to

do, that's what she did.

"That's not strong enough to do you much good," he said, and for the next hour or so he worked with Charlie, taking her in

deeper water, and showing her the swimming strokes.

Out in the considerably deeper water, Charlie felt a flutter of nerves, and he said, calmly, "I won't leave you until you

feel sure."

By the end of the hour, Charlie was feeling tired, and Scott could tell that, because he said, "I think that's enough."

"Can I try to swim back to the bank by myself, though? From here?" Charlie asked.

"Alright. I won't help unless you need it."

When she'd succeeded, Charlie was out of breath.

They sat on the creek bank for a few minutes, and Charlie said, "That was fun! Can we do a little more?"

"No. Not today," Scott said, pulling on the dry shirt he'd left on the ground. "Swimming when you're tired is never a good idea. It's too easy

to get into trouble then. Remember that, alright?"

Charlie nodded in agreement. "When can we have another lesson?"

"We'll try to squeeze in one or two a week. It depends on how busy things are around here."

"Okay," Charlie said, trying not to show her disappointment at the vagueness of his answer.

Charlie made him a grass ring, like Johnny had shown her. Scott smiled when she slipped it onto his pinkie finger.

"Did Johnny show you how to whistle with a blade of grass?" he asked.

Charlie shook her head, watching with interest as he took a blade of grass and put it between his teeth, emitting a

piercing whistle.

"Can you show me?" she asked, laughing. Scott explained that the blade of grass needed to be at least six inches long, or as

long as a thumb. He pressed his thumbs together at the knuckles and put the grass lengthwise. Another whistle came about.

Although she tried several times, Charlie wasn't able to replicate the sound. She only succeeded in sputtering.

"Keep the grass taut," Scott told her. "No kinks."

He chose another blade of grass, and showed her how, by cupping his hands, the pitch of the whistle became higher or lower.

Charlie watched him with fascination. "It seems it should be simple-but it's not," she said.

"It takes some practice," Scott said.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, leaning back in the grass.

"I think you look a little like Murdoch," Charlie said, studying his profile.

"Do you?"

"A little. More than Johnny does. Do you look like your mother, too?" she asked.

"I think I resemble her quite a bit." Scott snapped off a tall stalk of grass as he talked. "I have a picture of her I'll show you

sometime, so you can see for yourself."

"I'd like to see her picture," Charlie said, pleased at his suggestion.

Charlie snapped off her own pieces of grass. "All of us-except for Murdoch-are sort of alike. You, and Johnny, and Teresa,

and me."

Scott turned his gaze onto her, waiting for her to continue. To elaborate.

"Murdoch grew up with his mother and his father. But-you lived with your grandfather, and not Murdoch. Johnny was with his mother,

and not Murdoch. Teresa didn't have her parents, so she came to live here. And, I didn't have anybody, and then I met you."

Scott listened, his expression soft on her face.

"We all ended up here. At Lancer, and together," Charlie said.

"We did," Scott said.

"I mean-even though we're not-" Charlie hesitated. "I can't think of the word-"

"Conventional," Scott supplied. "Is that what you're thinking of?"

"Yes. Conventional. Even though we're not like a conventional family, we're still a family, aren't we?"

"We absolutely are."

Charlie studied Scott as he lounged there, leaning on his side, in the grass. He looked relaxed, the lines in his forehead

smoothed out. She sat, cross-legged, facing him, plucking at the grass with her fingers.

"I've heard they're looking for a replacement teacher," Scott said.

"But they haven't found anyone?" Charlie asked.

"No. Not yet they haven't. It might be a while. It's possible they won't find anyone until next term."

"Oh."

"How do you feel about that?" he asked. "If that were to happen?"

Surprised by his asking her that, Charlie sat up a little straighter. It made her feel important, him asking her

thoughts on something so monumental. She knew he wasn't talking about being or not being with the other children, but about the

academic side of things.

"I think I can keep up at home alright," Charlie said, seriously. "Until there's a new teacher. I'll work hard at it, Scott."

He smiled a little. "I believe you. And, you could keep up, I'm sure, at least for a while. I think, though, that

there might be a time when we should consider other options."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead at him in question. Other options?

"You mean like a tutor?" Charlie asked.

"That's a good idea," Scott told her. "We could definitely consider that."

"I don't think I need a tutor, though," Charlie said, in protest. "If I have struggles with something, you or Murdoch

could help me-"

"I'm not suggesting a tutor immediately," Scott said. "But, if the absence of a teacher lasts past a month or so, then

we'll need to begin considering options."

There was that word again. Options.

"None of the other kids will have a tutor, though," Charlie said. "Except maybe Lucy-most folks wouldn't be able

to-" Charlie's voice trailed off. Scott knew as well as she that there were those in the area who were hard-pressed to

keep food on the table, let alone scrape up the money for a tutor for their children.

"I know," Scott said, understanding what she'd been getting at. "In certain things, though, what other folks do or don't do, hasn't

any bearing on our situation."

Charlie began to feel a sense of unease.

"What do you mean, our situation?" she asked him.

There was a hesitation on his part, just a very slight one, but Charlie noticed it, nonetheless.

"The board at the bank has a say-so in your upbringing, Charlie. You know that," he said, as Charlie watched him, feeling wary. "Their

recommendations on your education are something that we'd have to adhere to-"

Losing any pretense at restraint, Charlie raised her voice, leaping to a conclusion. "They want me to go to boarding school! Well-I won't! I-just won't, that's

all!"

"Charlie-" Scott began. In an attempt to calm her, she knew. Reason with her.

Agitated, Charlie sat up, folding her legs underneath, as if poised for flight. "A bunch of-fat old men who think they know

what's best for me-but they don't!"

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Scott said. "Nobody has decided any such thing." His tone was firm. Certain.

Charlie studied his face, a twinge of hope rising. "They haven't said anything about it?"

"They have said something about it. Thinking about the future. But, there's been no decision made."

"Why are they saying anything at all?" Charlie burst out. "Why did you have to tell them about school being

interrupted? Why didn't you just not tell them anything at all about it?!"

Her tone was accusing, and she knew it. Part of her felt badly for it, but Scott, to his credit, took it without flinching,

or anger.

"I'm required to inform them when something major occurs, Charlie. You know that," he said, quietly, his tone steady. "That's

part of the agreement of the guardianship."

Charlie gave a 'humph' sound of disgust, and turned her face toward the water.

"They're charged with having your best interests at heart," he said, softly.

"I won't go to boarding school," Charlie said, stubbornly, and added dramatically, "Even if there's no teacher here for-for the next five years, I won't

go to boarding school!"

Scott was watching her with a look of part-compassion, and part-sternness at her theatrics. Tussling inwards with himself, on

whether to comfort her, or scold her, he felt at a loss. Unsure.

He settled for a middle-ground of it, saying still calmly, but with a note of authority, "That's a foolish thing to say."

Charlie's eyes swept to him, and she felt a flash of hurt. She turned away, facing forwards towards the creek, trying to

gain control of her emotions. A long few moments of silence passed. Charlie could feel his eyes on her, but-waiting before

he spoke.

"Education is vital. Important. They feel that at some point you might benefit from a broader experience, than the

school here can offer. It's nothing that's going to be considered in the near future, though."

Charlie considered his words, and asked, without looking at him, "Do you think that, too? That I should go away to school sometime?"

"I think when you're older, it might be something then, to consider," he said. "There's benefits and drawbacks both to it."

"You want me to go?" she asked, and then held her breath until he answered.

The answer was immediate. Without thought or hesitation. Definite.

"No."

Charlie looked at him, again. "You don't?"

"No, Charlie, I don't," he said, firmly.

"Oh," Charlie said, eyeing him, and feeling somewhat better.

"I'd miss you very much, if you weren't here every single day," Scott said.

Charlie gave him a tremulous smile. "Me, too. I'd miss you, too, I mean."

"It's a year or two down the road, at least."

"That's soon," Charlie said, in protest, thinking of the horrible possibility of leaving the ranch and the family.

Scott was wishing that he hadn't brought up the subject at all, but yet-Charlie needed to know certain things

were likely to take place in her future-

He was trying to formulate the best words to speak to her, to soothe her worry, and yet be honest, when Charlie

said, "Why does it have to be this way?" in a despondent sort of way.

"Why does what have to be this way?"

"Why do they get to make such important decisions about me? I mean-I know why, but it just isn't fair." Charlie

gave him such a sad look out of those brown eyes that Scott felt his chest constrict. He was out of his element here, he

thought to himself. There was no way he was equipped for-

Into the midst of those troubling thoughts in his mind, Charlie said, "I wish my grandfather had never discovered

gold at all. Then I wouldn't be an heiress or whatever, when I'm older. And, then-they wouldn't have any say-so about

me."

"It won't help, or change anything to think that way," Scott told her.

"I know, but I still feel it," Charlie said.

"You're entitled to your feelings," he said, carefully. "Absolutely entitled."

Charlie sat, plucking at the grass, the smiles from earlier long gone.

"I know you wish I hadn't told Beets, and the rest of the board, about there being no teacher right now, but, kiddo, I have to

follow the guidelines for being your guardian." He thought a moment, and then added, "I don't want to do anything that might

cause them to think I'm not doing a good job, taking care of you."

Charlie met his eyes, somberly, but earnestly, "You take really good care of me, Scott. They wouldn't ever be able to say that

you don't."

"Well, thank you," he said, feeling that painful tightening in his chest again. After a few moments of quiet, he said,

"Maybe we ought to be heading back to the house, huh?"

Charlie nodded without answering, and Scott pulled on his socks and boots, and they set out, walking thru the grasses.

She was still silent. Quiet. Not in what he thought was a brooding way, but more introspective. Scott wished she would

laugh, and dance ahead of him, picking flowers, like she had as they'd walked here earlier, instead of walking so silently,

in such a discouraged way.

"It's a long way in the future," he said, again, feeling as though he should say something. Something to reassure her.

"A year or so," Charlie said, dully, repeating what he'd said.

Scott couldn't think of what to say after that. He couldn't think of what to say, or even if there was anything to say.

So, instead of words, he reached down to take her hand in his.

L

"