Maria was making jam the next week, and both Teresa and Charlie were enlisted to help with the task. Charlie didn't mind it so
much. It was fun, peeling and crushing the cherries and the pears, and helping to measure the sugar.
"Have you ever helped with anything like this before?" Teresa asked Charlie, as she brushed her hair away from her
forehead. The kitchen was hot.
Charlie shook her head vigorously, brushing back her own sweaty curls. "Katherine didn't even know how to get to where
the kitchen was-she could never have made jam!"
"What about the cook there?" Teresa asked. "Did you ever help her, with preparing the meals?"
"She didn't want anybody under her feet, bothering her," Charlie said.
Sorry that she'd asked, and brought up any unpleasant memories for Charlie, Teresa said, brightly, "Well, now you
can help all that you want, and learn to cook everything."
Charlie nodded, and Maria took time as she walked behind to give Charlie's shoulder an affectionate pat.
L
Spreading some of the newly-made jam on a biscuit later at supper time, Johnny proclaimed it the best
he'd ever eaten.
Murdoch said that a letter had come from Mr. Beets, stating that he would like to visit them on the next weekend, and
planned to arrive early Saturday morning on the train.
Teresa immediately asked if Murdoch thought they should have the Carson's over Saturday evening. Mr. Beets had
enjoyed meeting and talking with Mr. Carson on an earlier visit.
Murdoch replied that it would be nice to do so, and Teresa said she would talk with Maria about a supper menu.
"Cole will come over, as well," Teresa added.
"Might as well have his mail delivered here," Johnny spoke up, teasing. "He's here enough lately."
"Oh, shush," Teresa told him.
Charlie had remained silent during the conversation about Mr. Beets arriving, and Scott gave her a knowing
look.
"Maybe you can practice your cooking for Mr. Beets," Teresa suggested to Charlie.
Charlie looked up, startled at being brought into things, and then she shook her head.
"I don't think so," she said.
Teresa, who wasn't aware of why Charlie's feelings towards Mr. Beets had soured somewhat, looked perplexed.
"Why not?" she asked Charlie, innocently.
"I just don't want to," Charlie said, somewhat sullenly, and looked at her plate, pushing her beans around.
Teresa looked at Murdoch, and at Scott, wrinkling her forehead in question.
Scott gave a slight shake of his head, and Teresa began talking about other things
When the meal was over, and everyone was getting to their feet, Charlie paused, behind her chair, holding
her plate and glass in her hands.
"Scott? Can I go play with the pups for awhile?"
Scott, pushing in his own chair, said, "It's 'may I?' and yes, you can."
When they were settled in the library later, talking and having a drink, Scott discussed again with Murdoch the situation,
and filled Teresa and his brother in on the talk he and Charlie had had at the creek.
"Poor kid," Johnny muttered
"You should have the decision-making authority," Teresa told Scott. "You're her legal guardian. That should extend
to all aspects of her raising. At least everything besides the financial. You've already proven that you aren't
going to use any of the money. Her schooling, and everything else should be up to you. You know her best."
The three Lancer men were watching her, with varying expressions at the end of her impassioned speech.
"Well said, darling," Murdoch said, smiling at her fondly.
"You sound like a lawyer, hermanita," Johnny told her.
"Do I?" Teresa asked, looking pleased.
"Just as though you were heading into court," Murdoch agreed.
"Hmm. Well, good. If I thought I could get by with it, I'd speak up for Charlie and tell that board at the bank exactly
what I just said," Teresa said.
"It doesn't make much sense, if you think about it like that," Johnny said. "Why is it, Scott, that they're able to control things
like they do?"
"From what I understand, it was set up that way at the beginning. Charlie's grandfather arranged it, knowing that her mother
wasn't in good health. With a shortage of relatives that would be able to take care of Charlie, he assigned the board more
control with things," Scott said.
"You mean that he knew Charlie's mother might die?" Teresa asked.
"I guess that was part of it," Scott said.
"And, he thought she might have to go to an orphanage?" Teresa asked, looking horrified.
"I don''t know about that-I think likely it was more for the fact that Katherine was the only relative available, and he wanted to
be sure that there were guidelines in place."
"The grandfather knew what sort that that Katherine was, it sounds like," Johnny said, darkly. "Must have known that she
shouldn't have free rein."
"Maybe so," Scott agreed.
"What was it that was wrong with her mother?" Teresa asked.
"Beets says from what he understands, it was probably consumption."
"How awful," Teresa said.
"So the kid's not feelin' pleased with Beets, huh?" Johnny asked.
"I think he's getting the most blame in her mind, since she knows him the best," Scott said.
"She needs to be respectful while he's here," Murdoch said. "And made to understand that he shouldn't be
blamed for the way things are."
"I'll talk to her about it," Scott said. "I don't think she grasped everything when we talked before."
"Would you like me to do it?" Murdoch asked him.
"No need," Scott said, looking surprised. "Unless you want to."
"I don't mind," Murdoch said. "I think I'd like to. As long as it's alright with you."
"It's alright with me," Scott said. "Actually, I'd be grateful. Maybe another perspective on it will help her. Thank
you, Murdoch."
L
The next few days sped by, and Johnny was the one who fit in a swimming lesson for Charlie. In between the swimming
and her chores, Charlie was meticulous with her lessons, finishing the ones that Scott had assigned to her.
She was waiting for Scott one late afternoon, when he'd ridden back in from the range, with some of the other
ranch hands. She'd been sitting on the ornamental iron bench outside the hacienda, waiting, and when he'd ridden
up, and was dismounting, she ran over to him.
"I've been waiting for you!" she greeted him.
"Has something happened?" he asked.
"No, it's just that I want to show you something!"
"Alright," he said, eyeing the papers she was waving around in her hands. "Is that what you want to show me?"
At her adamant nod of her head, he began leading his horse to the corral, and she tagged after him.
"Some of your drawings?" Scott asked, as they walked.
"No. Well, I did do some drawing today, too, but that's not what this is."
Scott took off the saddle, and put it over the top of the corral panel, before he began brushing down his horse.
Eager for him to finish, Charlie offered, "I'll brush him, if you want to put your saddle away."
"Alright," he said, and Charlie took the brush from him, laying her clutched papers on the ground carefully, weighted down
with a rock.
Scott was back within just a couple of minutes, and he said, "Want me to take over now?"
"I'll finish up," she said.
"Should I take a look at your papers now?"
Charlie nodded, and Scott removed the rock, picking up the papers, and then sitting down on a bale of straw that was
sitting there, beside the corral. He looked over the pages, two of them filled with completed arithmetic problems, and
another page of handwriting. And yet another of three words, with the definitions clearly written out in the improved
handwriting.
"Are you surprised I got it all finished? Even the numbers?" Charlie asked him, eagerly.
"I am surprised," he said. "That's a lot to get done in one day."
"Are you proud of me?" Charlie asked him, beaming.
"I'm very proud of you," Scott said. "I thought it would take you at least thru tomorrow to get this much done."
He took the paper with the definitions and put it on the top, looking it over again.
"What's this?" he asked her.
"Oh," Charlie said, coming to sit beside him on the bale of straw. "I thought I'd try to learn the meaning of
one new word a day. But, then, today, I had extra time so-I did three."
Scott gave her a smile. "I'm impressed," he said.
Charlie dimpled, reveling in his approval. "Ask me the words, to see if I know them."
"Alright." Scott looked over the paper again, and said, "How about 'fastidious'?"
"Fastidious," Charlie said, rolling the word around over her tongue. "Um, that means-controlling, right?"
"Well, in a way. It has to do with detail-"
"Oh, yes," Charlie said, remembering. "It means that a person pays attention to details about things, that it's accurate, to do
things careful, and make sure it's done right."
"Very good," Scott said, in praise.
"Do another one," Charlie pleaded, enjoying having his positive attention.
"Okay, how about 'misconception'?"
"That means-a person thinks a certain way about something, but they're really not correct at all, because they aren't understanding
the way it really is," Charlie recited.
Stunned, Scott regarded her, eyebrows raised, and said, "My goodness-"
"Is that right?" Charlie asked.
"Yes, exactly right," he told her.
The bell for the supper meal was ringing, and Charlie said, looking somewhat guiltily at him, "I haven't set the table yet."
"Uh oh," Scott said.
"I better do it," she said, standing up. "Can I tell you about the third word later?"
"Absolutely, you can," he said, and she smiled and dashed off towards the house. Scott sat, holding the papers in
his hand, watching her go.
L