When the sight of the buggy racing up the road to the hacienda stirred Charlie to raise her head from her reading, she closed the
book and scooted over to the barn loft opening.
She could see Murdoch and Mr. Beets laughing together, as the buggy was pulled to a complete stop. The two men got out
and began working together to unhitch the buggy, and turn Bartholomew out into the pasture.
Casting his gaze around the courtyard, as though he was glad to be back at Lancer, Mr. Beets eyes traveled up, and landed on
Charlie, sitting there in the opening, her feet swinging down.
"Charlotte," he said, in greeting, smiling up at her. "How are you?"
"I'm well." She added a belated, "Thank you," to her reply.
"It's a fine day to be out of doors," Mr. Beets continued, still looking up at where she sat.
Charlie gave a nod in answer, as Murdoch paused to look up, his hands full of harness. He frowned at the precariousness of
her position.
"Stay back from the edge like that," he warned.
"Johnny says he used to jump down from a loft like this one when he was younger," Charlie shared, not thinking it out how it might sound.
"That may be, although I didn't have anything to say about it," Murdoch said, and Charlie remembered, too late, that
Johnny (during his loft jumping days), hadn't lived at Lancer at that time. She felt sorry instantly. She hadn't wanted to make
Murdoch feel badly.
It didn't seem as though he was feeling too hurt by her comment, although his next warning was gruff.
"I do have something to say about you, however," Murdoch told her. "And, I don't want you sitting that near the edge."
"Yes, Murdoch," Charlie said, obediently scooting back and getting to her feet, as she saw Mr. Beets hiding a smile, as if amused
by the interaction between she and Murdoch.
She came down to the bottom of the ladder, and found Mr. Beets waiting for her there.
"It's been a few weeks since I last saw you," Mr. Beets said, opening the conversation.
Charlie reached down and picked up one of the pups, who had come running to sniff at Mr. Beet's leg. Lettie.
"Yes," Charlie said, in answer.
"What have you been doing lately?"
"I've been staying very busy," Charlie said, curtly, and heard the tone of defensiveness creep into her voice.
She was telling herself to get control-Murdoch was not very far off, and she didn't need him overhearing and thinking that she wasn't heeding
his warnings from their talk earlier in his library.
"I've been doing lots of things," Charlie added, to ease the curtness of her previous remark.
"Have you?" Beets asked, looking interested, and as though he hadn't taken notice of her curtness.
"Yes. Reading and helping Maria-we made jam," Charlie said.
"I hope I get an opportunity to try it," he said.
Charlie still felt a bit of stiffness that hadn't been present between them before, or at least since she'd been living at Lancer, and she'd
really gotten to know Mr. Beets well.
After lunch, Charlie went with Beets for a walk. He'd suggested it at the table, asking if she would like to take a walk across
the pastures with her.
Charlie didn't particularly want to go walking, but when she was trying to think of a reason to put it off, she realized that
everyone's eyes were on her. Murdoch had lifted his eyebrow. Just slightly, but raised, nonetheless.
Charlie felt her face get warm. In partial embarrassment, and partial wariness. She had no desire to bring Murdoch's
ire down upon herself.
"We can go for a walk," she said, trying to sound more agreeable. After all, she might as well get it over with for the weekend. She
had to talk to the banker at some point. That was part of the arrangement. Part of the reason that he came to Lancer to visit was to
talk to her. Of course, he now enjoyed his visits here for other reasons as well, such as his friendship with Murdoch. But, primarily, it
was to talk to Charlie, so that she didn't have to go into Stockton to the bank for the monthly check-ins.
As they began their walk, away from the house, and out towards the pastures and the pond, there was some silence
between them. The silence was broken by Beets, who sniffed the air in appreciation.
"I believe I smell lavender," he said.
"You do," Charlie told him, pointing to the wild lavender just up ahead of them.
"You certainly don't smell anything that sweet in Stockton," Mr. Beets said, so seriously that Charlie giggled.
Mr. Beets smiled at the sound of that giggle.
"It's true," Charlie said, in agreement, remembering the smell of garbage in the alleys when she'd run through them with the other
street kids.
"I don't imagine that you miss much about Stockton, do you?"
"No. Not much," Charlie said.
"I certainly do enjoy my times when I get to visit here, and leave the city behind for a bit," Mr. Beets said.
After that, he asked if she'd been fishing of late, and she told him about Scott and Johnny teaching her to swim.
"I'm glad of that," he said. "It's important to know how to swim."
"I've been doing lots of school lessons, too," Charlie said, wanting him to know that she was continuing to do school work while
there was a lack of a school teacher.
"That's fine," he said, looking approving.
For a few minutes, Charlie had nearly forgotten that she was feeling peeved at Mr. Beets, and the rest of the bank board. She'd slipped
into the ease of talking with the banker. Now, though, she said, "I can keep up with my lessons just fine here at home, until they
find another teacher," in a less-friendly tone.
Mr. Beets did not appear to notice the sudden change in her voice. He only nodded, and said, "I'm glad that you're working hard. Hopefully
it won't be a long while until another teacher is found."
Charlie studied him covertly. She didn't want to be rude to Mr. Beets. She genuinely had a fondness for the man. But, still, this was
her opportunity to let her wishes be known.
"I want to keep going to the school here," Charlie announced.
"Of course. You have your friends now. I'm sure there'll be another teacher along soon," he said, in a comforting way. Charlie realized
that he thought she meant she wanted to return to school soon. He didn't realize she meant always.
Charlie paused in her walking, and, thus, Mr. Beets paused as well. Charlie reached out and pulled the top off a tall weed, and rolled it
around in her hands.
Mr. Beets was waiting, patiently, for her to say whatever it was she had to say.
"I want to tell you something," Charlie began, slowly, "But, I don't want to seem like I'm being disrespectful."
"I'm sure you won't be," he said, quietly.
"Well-I don't want to go to boarding school. Even if it takes a long while to hire another teacher here-I don't want to go away. I'll keep up
with my lessons here, or Scott said we could get a tutor-" Charlie had said all of that without taking a breath, and now she paused, taking in
a long one.
The expression on Mr. Beets face said much. Charlie had poured all her reservations about leaving Lancer and the family behind into that
one, long statement. Though she hadn't spoken specifically the words, her intent was clear enough. At least to Mr. Beets.
"I understand your feelings," he said, carefully, not wanting to be so abrupt as to crush her, but also-not wanting to give false hope.
Too late, for Charlie took what he said, and exclaimed with relief, "Thank you-I'm glad you understand!"
Hastily, Mr. Beets, pressed on. "I know it would be extremely difficult for you to be away from the family, but-perhaps when the time does come,
you'll be more inclined-"
Charlie felt her face get hot, and it had nothing to do with the temperatures of the California afternoon.
"What does that mean? When the times comes?" she demanded, interrupting.
"At some point, in your education, boarding school will need to be discussed," he said.
"Why?" she said, again in a demand, raising her tone. "Why does it have to be discussed?"
"Your grandfather was very specific, about what he wished for you. He felt that you would benefit from attending a fine school, meeting
other girls who are similar in circumstance."
"Well-I think that was ignorant of him," Charlie said, vehemently. "He sounds-as though he was a snob! And-he didn't even know
me! He had no idea at all of what I would be like, or what I would prefer. I think he sounds like a horrible man!"
Mr. Beets looked at her sadly, taking in her flushed cheeks and heaving breaths. He sat down in the grasses, sinking to the position with
an ease of a younger man.
"Charlotte, sit with me," he said. And, as it looked as if Charlie was going to refuse, he added, "Please. I have some things to
say to you."
Charlie took in his tone. It seemed different, somehow. More serious. More focused. Less indulgent.
"I'll be in trouble with Scott-and Murdoch, too, for being rude to you," she said. She felt a smidgen of regret at her sharp words
and raised tone.
"You'll be in no trouble," he reassured her. "I hear strong words, but I don't feel rudeness from you."
Charlie felt a wave of being grateful to him, and she sat down just a bit across from him in the grass, tucking her legs up to her
chin and wrapping her arms around her knees.
"Your grandfather was not a snobbish person. He didn't think himself above anyone else. He was actually the very opposite of that," Mr. Beets
said.
"Did you know him?" Charlie asked, surprised. She hadn't been aware of that, or at least she'd never thought of it before.
"Yes. I did. I met him a few years after he'd discovered gold, and came into his money. It was shortly after you were born-"
After that, Charlie was enthralled. She'd never heard any stories like this before, of her early life.
Beets talked on, saying, "He was a fine man, principled, and-" he paused. "Do you know that meaning?"
"Principled?" Charlie asked, and at his nod, she said, "I think it means having scruples, right?"
"Yes. Having scruples, and high standards," Beets verified. "He wasn't a snobbish sort of person. He never really lost his ways, of what
he was like before he became wealthy. The same simple things caused him to be content. Money didn't change that."
"What did he like to do?" Charlie asked.
"He liked to fish, and he was handy at building things from wood," Beets said. "He'd been extremely poor most of his life."
"He was?"
"Oh, yes. It was a hard row to hoe to provide for his family for most of those years. He did many things, whatever he had to to make
money to provide," Beets said. "He tried his hand at farming, and he was a miner for a few years."
"And he was looking for gold all that time?" Charlie asked.
"Well, no, not all that time," Beets said, and smiled. "That's the interesting part of the story. Harve only searched for gold
on a whim. I believe he said only one or two days at it, and he got lucky."
"Does that happen very often?" Charlie asked, surprised.
"No, not at all," Beets said, with a chuckle. "I would think that it nearly never happens. There's many, many men who spend their
lives searching, and never discover gold." He chuckled again. "He was even using borrowed equipment to search with."
Charlie hugged her knees up tighter to her chest. "I never knew all of those things about him. My mother didn't talk about him. At least,
not that I remember." She thought back to those early days with her mother, in the big house, with the yellow and gold wallpaper. Sometimes, it seemed
as though her memories were fading like the sun at dusk. She tried to bring her mother's face into focus in her mind.
"Did you know my grandmother, too?" she asked.
"No. She had passed away many years before I met Harve."
"But, you knew my mother?"
"I did," Beets said, with a nod. "She was lovely. A very gentle spirit."
"Ladylike?" Charlie asked.
"Yes, she was. Very quiet."
"I don't think I'm very much like her," Charlie said, sounding regretful.
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm not really quiet, and I'm not ladylike. Not at all."
"I think you're more like your mother that you believe. In important ways. You're a gentle spirit, Charlotte, just as she was. You care
deeply for others. Such as when you met your friend, Burl. From what I understand, you befriended him when many others would not," Beets
said.
"Thank you," Charlie told him, feeling a bit embarrassed by the praise.
There was a few minutes of quiet, and then Charlie returned to the previous topic.
"I don't want to have to go away to boarding school. I still think that my grandfather shouldn't have left all those rules for me," she persisted.
"His reasoning was this-he knew that your mother wasn't well, even early on. He knew that there was a possibility that you would need
another caretaker-someone else to finish raising you-so he didn't want that person to have so much control that they might misuse
the funds, or not do what was the right thing for you. So, he implemented guidelines, so that you would be best protected."
For the first time, Charlie had a more clear understanding of why her mysterious grandfather had done some of the things
he had. He'd wanted to protect her-to ensure that whomever raised her made certain that she had advantages and that that person
also had to abide by certain restrictions.
Still, though-
"Katherine didn't stay in those guidelines very well," Charlie said.
Mr. Beets regarded her somberly. "Are you referring to what you believe about her having you for the funds she received?"
"It's true, Mr. Beets," Charlie said, not disrespectfully, but still strongly.
"Ah, well, we won't debate that particular point, Charlotte. I am extremely sorry, though, that you spent so much time feeling that
way. That you were made to feel that way by Katherine."
"That's why it's so different with Scott and me," Charlie said. "He didn't take me on because of any money. And, even when he heard
about the money, he still didn't care. He's had me all this time, for months, and he hasn't taken anything from the trust fund."
"Scott's a fine man, that's for certain," Mr. Beets said. "I haven't met many that were any finer than he."
"I know," Charlie said, and hugged her knees again. "I think if my grandfather had known Scott, then he would realized he didn't
need to have all the rules and guidelines. Scott thinks education is real important, he's always saying that to me-and he makes me
do lessons and keep up on things, even when I fuss about it. But, he doesn't want me to go away to boarding school, ever. He told me so."
This last bit of the announcement was said with great pride and a triumphant air on Charlie's part.
"Oh, yes, I'm aware, Charlotte," Mr. Beets said, almost as if he was speaking carelessly, with a small laugh, and then he caught himself.
Charlie regarded him, curiously, wondering what he meant by that.
Mr. Beets had the look of a man who'd been found out.
"I've a bit of a confession to make," the older man said, with a slight smile. "Scott has been championing for the right to make the decision himself
about your future schooling. He has made it extremely clear to everyone on the bank board that he doesn't want you going away for your
studies."
Charlie felt a nearly overwhelming sense of gladness swell over her. "He has?" she asked, in a breathless way.
"He has." Mr. Beets paused, and leaned forward a bit, as if sharing more secret information. "Shall I tell you something else?"
At Charlie's nod, Mr. Beets continued, "You were actually set to go away to boarding school at the beginning of this term. That's why
Katherine was looking into those boarding schools in Colorado." He waved a hand. "That was wrong of her to have looked at ones with such a distance,
but the point is-you would have been boarding somewhere by now already, if it hadn't been for Scott."
Charlie wrinkled her forehead in question. "What do you mean?"
"Scott was very decisive about it. He said there was not any advantage to you going away at this time, and that he absolutely would
not condone it."
"He did?" Charlie asked.
"He did, indeed."
Charlie felt her emotions get the best of her, and tears filled her eyes. Normally, she would be embarrassed about tearing up and
sniffling, like some big baby. But, right now, for some reason, she wasn't embarrassed. She felt only a sense of being grateful, protected.
"Do you mind if we head back now?" she asked Mr. Beets, standing and brushing off the seat of her overalls.
"No. Of course not," Beets said, as he stood, as well.
Charlie met his gaze, not caring if he saw the tears in her eyes. "I sort of-I want to find Scott."
Beets nodded, and Charlie didn't add that she wanted to not only search Scott out, wherever he was working at on the ranch,
but also she wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, and squeeze as tightly as she could.
'L