Charlie wasn't certain how much more time passed, but it was enough that Murdoch suggested that he leave the fields and go back towards

the hacienda and barns to search. She was weary, and felt a chill seeping into her bones. She also must have stepped into a wet bit of ground because

it felt as though one of her feet was damp.

"We've looked there," Mr. Stone said, as they stood again in a group, to talk things over.

"I'll give it another look, just in case," Murdoch said. Even in the lantern light Charlie could see how strained and worried

Mr. Stone seemed to be.

"Where could she have gotten to?" Mr. Stone asked, running a hand over his face, and letting it drop back to his side.

"She's likely playing a bit of a trick," Val said. "We don't want her to be out here overnight, though, that's for certain."

Mr. Stone shook his head, but didn't reply.

"Coming with me?" Murdoch asked Charlie, and Charlie nodded. Then, realizing that he might not have seen her nod in the

light of the lantern, she said, "Yes."

"After you get up there, I want you to go on back into the house," Scott said, in a low tone, to her. He put a hand on her back.

"I want to help, though-" Charlie protested, also low.

"You've got to be getting chilled out here. I want you to get warmed up, and get something hot to drink."

Charlie was chilled. And a hot drink sounded heavenly. But, she still felt as though she should be out here, helping to search

for Lucy.

For some silly, irrational reason, Charlie felt weepy.

"But, Scott-" she protested further.

"No argument," Scott said, his tone firm.

And, that, Charlie thought, was that.

"What should I say to Lucy's mother?" she asked, feeling as though she couldn't cope if Mrs. Stone became hysterical, or such.

"I'll take care of that," Murdoch said. He turned towards Mr. Stone. "After we've looked around the barns another time, perhaps you should

let Belle know."

"I think that's wise," Val said, quietly.

"I hate to do that," Mr. Stone said, sounding reluctant.

"We've been looking for over an hour, Will," Val said, in a rational way. "Could be that Lucy's up at the house right now. But, if she's not, then

I think you should tell your wife what's happening."

Mr. Stone agreed, still reluctant, and he and Val began to walk towards the lit-up house.

For some inexplicable reason, Charlie felt as though she was going to burst into tears. She actually gave a sniffle, rubbing at her

nose, her fingers cold.

"I'll keep on lookin' out here for a while," Johnny said. "Comin', Scott?"

"Yeah." Scott paused, and then leaned down a bit, putting his hands on Charlie's upper arms.

"None of this is your fault, Charlie. You know that, don't you?" he said.

His words, and the kindness in the way that he spoke them, only served to make Charlie feel more emotional. She knew he'd meant his words

to comfort and reassure her.

Charlie bobbed her head in reply.

"Alright," Scott said, straightening back to his full height. He gave Charlie a pat, and then he was gone, off into the night darkness with Johnny,

the lights of their lanterns bobbing.

Charlie trudged along with Murdoch, who never released her hand, until they'd reached the lights of the house. Mrs. Stone was standing outside,

her shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and she was, predictably, crying. It made Charlie feel all cringy inside, seeing Lucy's mother

shake and cry that way.

"Where could she be?" Mrs. Stone was wailing. Teresa stood nearby, trying to console the distraught woman. Mr. Beets, meanwhile,

had donned a jacket and was standing to the side.

"Can I help in some way?" Mr. Beets asked Murdoch, after he'd walked over to Murdoch and Charlie.

"I'd be glad to have you with me. I'm going to take a closer looks at the buildings and the barns," Murdoch told him.

"Right, then," Mr. Beets said, and began towards the corral.

Val had disappeared, and Mr. Stone stood, patting his wife's shoulder, in an ineffectual way.

"Go inside, and ask Maria to give you some hot tea," Murdoch told Charlie. "Warm up by the fire."

Charlie gave only a weary nod, and skirted past the wailing Mrs. Stone, and inside, via the back door.

Maria was drinking her own steaming cup of hot brew, either coffee or tea, and had finished tidying the kitchen after the

dinner party. She looked up at Charlie's entrance, and then, without saying a word, went to take the teakettle from the stove,

and began to prepare a cup of tea. Charlie sat at the kitchen table, her chair edged close to the stove, as the heat began to

permeate thru her chilled limbs.

"I don't know where Lucy went," she said, watching Maria sprinkle a liberal amount of sugar into the cup of tea.

"Traviesa," Maria said, setting the cup in front of Charlie. "Very naughty. Lucy."

She motioned to Charlie to drink, and they sat together in the kitchen, hearing the guests that were left still talking throughout the

house.

"Are you going home?" Charlie asked, knowing that Maria's work was completed for the evening, and that she would want to get

home to her own family.

"Si. Soon," Maria said.

"My feet are cold," Charlie admitted, as she finished the cup of tea.

Maria stood up, taking the empty cup to the sink. "Get dry," she said, motioning upstairs.

Charlie headed upstairs, and was halfway up when she heard a voice from the bottom of the stairs.

"Charlie?" It was Hallie Lyons. "Are you alright?" Her voice was soft, and concerned.

"Yes. I'm alright."

"They're still looking? For the Stone's daughter?" Miss Lyons asked.

Charlie gave a nod. "I have to go and change," she said.

Hallie nodded. "Of course."

Charlie went to her bedroom, and shed her shoes and wet-footed stockings, and then her dress and petticoats. She hurriedly changed

to a pair of clean overalls and a warm, long-sleeved brown blouse. She found her warmest pair of socks and pulled them on.

There was a light tap on her door, and, thinking it was Teresa, Charlie went to open it. Instead of Teresa, though, it was

Hallie Lyons standing there in the hall.

"I thought I'd see if you needed anything, or if I could help you with something," she said. "Teresa seems to have her hands full,

tending to Mrs. Stone."

For a moment, Charlie was surprised into shy silence, unsure of what to say.

Hallie gave a slight smile. "I could help you brush out your hair, and do up a new braid. It sounds as though the evening might go on

for a while yet."

"Okay," Charlie said, and within a few minutes she was seated, and Hallie had brushed out the tangles, and had made a neat

braid of Charlie's hair.

"You really have beautiful hair," Hallie said, tying off the finished braid. "It's so thick."

"Thank you," Charlie said.

Hallie went to replace the hairbrush onto the dressing table, and came to sit beside Charlie on the window seat.

"I'm sure they'll find her soon," she said, in a reassuring manner.

"I hope so," Charlie said. "She was there-and then she was gone."

"It sounds as though you did everything just right," Hallie said.

Grateful, Charlie looked at her. "Scott says it wasn't my fault, but it feels like it sort of is."

"Nonsense," Hallie said, with spirit. "Scott is absolutely correct. We have a joke between us, Scott and I. The joke is that

he's always, always right about things. I tend to fly off the handle a bit at times, and he's always spot-on with his advice."

Charlie took that in, enjoying the moment of getting to know the woman sitting beside her.

"Scott's real smart about things," Charlie said, in agreement.

"That he is." Hallie paused. "We're great friends, Scott and I."

She hesitated, and said, softly, "I value his friendship very much. I want you to know-he talked about you, right off, the

first time that I met him." She smiled at Charlie. "He thinks that you're really something special."

Warmth spread thru Charlie at that comment. Knowing that Scott had talked about her to this vibrant, outgoing young

woman, that he'd shared what Charlie meant to him-it made her feel sort of squishy inside.

"I think he is, too," Charlie confided. "Special, I mean."

"We have that in common, then," Hallie said, with a flashing smile. She got to her feet, and, without preamble, took Charlie's hand,

pulling her to her feet.

"Let's go down, and see what's happening," Hallie said. "Maybe they've found your friend by now."

"She's not my friend," Charlie said, bluntly, without thinking it out first.

If anything, Hallie looked approving. "I'm glad," she said, and linked her arm thru Charlie's. "She doesn't seem like the sort of a

girl that you would care to be bosom friends with."

L