The next day, being Saturday, Murdoch announced that he would be going to town later to collect Mr. Beets from the
stage.
"Make up a list of things you need for tonight's dinner, and I can get it while I'm in town," he told Teresa.
"Well," Teresa considered, "I think we have almost everything planned out-except you might get some more sugar."
"Alright," Murdoch said, with a nod. As the family began to rise from the breakfast table, to set about their day,
Murdoch set his cup of coffee down, and said, "Charlie, come with me, please."
Charlie came, and followed him obediently, as he walked to the library.
She paused at the doorway as Murdoch went over to his desk.
"Come in, sweetheart," he told her. "Close the door."
Perplexed, Charlie wrinkled her forehead, but obeyed, closing the door, as he beckoned to her to come to
where he stood. Once she had, Murdoch lifted her up and sat her on the desk, and then took his own chair, so that they were close
enough that her knees could nearly touch his arm.
Charlie was wide-eyed and solemn. Even with the 'sweetheart' from a few moment's earlier, she felt the
seriousness radiating from Murdoch. And the closed door?
"I thought it was time that you and I had a talk," Murdoch said.
That only served to heighten Charlie's trepidation.
"Beets is coming today," Murdoch said, and Charlie was even more puzzled. She knew that Mr. Beets was coming.
"I understand that you've got some disturbed feelings, about what the bank board had to say to Scott about there not
being a teacher right now," Murdoch continued.
Charlie wrinkled her forehead again, puzzling over what Murdoch's point was going to be.
"Is that correct?" Murdoch prodded.
Charlie gave a brief nod.
"Tell me about that," he said, and when Charlie gave him a confused look, he added, "What you're feeling. And why."
"Did Scott tell you-" she began.
"He talked with me about it all," Murdoch interrupted. "But I'm asking you to explain to me what your thoughts are."
His expression on her face was steady. And intense. Not unkind, but Charlie still felt like squirming under it.
"Well-I don't think they should have such say-so about me," Charlie admitted. "It's not their right."
"Why?"
"What?" Charlie asked, puzzled.
"Why is it not their right?" His tone was questioning, but not abrupt, as though he was sincerely interested in her
reply.
"I guess it is," Charlie relented a bit. "But, it shouldn't be. It should be up to Scott about my schooling."
"If things were as we wanted-" Murdoch began, and then paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "That might
seem as though it would be the best thing. And, it very well might be so. That's not a choice here, though, sweetheart. The bank
board's members were set out by your grandfather to maintain an interest in the inheritance, and that includes things like
your education, and your well-being, as well."
He paused, studying her forlorn expression. "I know you're aware of all that, already. I know it's not what you'd prefer,
but it is set that way."
"I don't like it," Charlie said, very low, studying the toe of her boot.
"And, that's understandable. Scott doesn't like it, either. Nor, for that matter, do I particularly like the idea of it."
Charlie raised her brown eyes to his face. "You don't?" she asked him.
"No," he said, simply.
Encouraged by his admission, and by the kindness in his eyes, Charlie said, "What could we maybe do about it?"
"There's not to be done about it," Murdoch said, still kind, but firmly. "Scott must abide by the terms in your
grandfather's directives, and so must you and I."
Murdoch rolled his chair forward a bit, and laid his hands on her knees. "Which brings me to my main point. It is not
Mr. Beets' fault, or any of the board members. They are fulfilling a promise that was made. That's their responsibility." He
paused, giving Charlie an intent look. "It wouldn't behoove you to treat Beets with any ill will while he's here visiting. Or at
any time."
"What is that, behoove?" Charlie asked.
"It means it wouldn't serve a purpose, it would be pointless," he explained. His expression grew stern. "Not to mention that it would
be immensely wrong of you, and rude as well." He paused for effect, and said, "Beets has been a good friend to you. An ally. To all of
us."
The last part made Charlie cringe a bit, at least inwardly. She knew for a fact that Mr. Beets was a good man, and that he'd been
kind to her-he'd embraced the change from Katherine to Scott as her guardian with apparent gladness. He also always listened to
what she had to say, and, when he was able to, he answered her questions.
Charlie felt her face flush hot. "I know that," she said, low.
"You know what?" Murdoch questioned.
"I know that Mr. Beets has been a good friend to me," Charlie admitted.
Leaving his large hands on her knees, Murdoch gave her a still-intent look. "You don't really want to treat him badly, or show him
disrespect, do you?"
"No." She met Murdoch's eyes. "I wasn't, though," she protested.
"You weren't what?"
"I wasn't going to treat Mr. Beets that way."
Murdoch lifted his hands from her knees, and sat back in his chair, raising an eyebrow.
It seemed as though he didn't believe her statement, and Charlie defended herself, feeling misunderstood.
"I wasn't, Murdoch."
"I'm glad to hear that," Murdoch said.
Still, he sat, quiet, and Charlie had the feeling that he was waiting for something more.
"Do you know what I'm going to do?" Charlie said, subdued, but yet still dramatic.
"What are you going to do?"
"The exact moment that I get the money from the inheritance-I'm going to give it all away," Charlie proclaimed.
Seemingly unimpressed by her dramatic announcement, Murdoch said, only, "I'm not sure that's the wisest plan, but, I suppose that
will be something you might consider. Of course, you'll still have advisors-"
Aghast, Charlie said, "You mean I'll never be able to decide anything, all on my own?"
"I don't think it'll be as bad as all that," Murdoch said. "Everyone can benefit from a bit of advice now and then."
Charlie sighed heavily, and then, after another long moment of silence, she said, "The money makes me different. I don't want to
be different, Murdoch."
She'd thought that, with such a fervent statement, that Murdoch might soften somewhat in his demeanor. Even though she truly
had meant what she'd said, Charlie still hoped he would turn gentle. This talk they were having felt, to her, too much like a scolding.
"You'll have the strength to be different," he said, not disputing what she'd said.
Charlie's eyes widened, and she studied him. He'd sounded so certain.
"I have great faith in you," Murdoch said.
Charlie felt her throat tighten in emotion. "You do?" she asked, softly.
"Yes. I do," he said.
Charlie felt better then. She gave Murdoch a dimpled smile.
"Having strength might mean having to do some things that you would rather not do. Some hard things," Murdoch said, and
immediately Charlie felt subdued again.
"Like go away to school." she said, dully.
"That's possible. It's not definite, Charlie. But, yes, possibly," he said, looking solemn. "I'll tell you something, though," he said, then,
leaning forward in his chair and clasping his hands together, as if he was going to share something extraordinary.
"What?" Charlie asked.
"If Scott doesn't feel that you're ready-or he doesn't feel that it would be the very best thing for you-then he would do
everything within his control to keep you from going."
Charlie felt a nearly overwhelming sense of hope and happiness.
She nodded in response to Murdoch's statement, and said, with fervor, "It was a lucky day for me at the train station, when I met Scott."
Murdoch reached out and opened his desk drawer, taking out a small sack which Charlie could tell held jellybeans. He opened it,
and held it out in offer to her.
Charlie nodded, and he shook out several candies into her palm.
He took some for himself, and said, "It was a fortunate day for all of us."
Charlie gave him another smile. "Thank you, Murdoch."
"You are welcome." He opened the drawer and deposited the candy back in. He stood, to his great height, and said,
"I'm off now, to collect Beets from the train."
Charlie slid down from the desk, and looked up at him, earnestly, "I won't mistreat Mr. Beets, Murdoch."
The older man reached out and laid a hand on the top of Charlie's head. "I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart. You will meet a good many people
in your life, and it's important to always have a kind heart, and show grace."
"I'll try, I promise," Charlie said.
"I trust that you will," he said, and smoothed her hair.
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