I captured Ford's hand in mine, and squeezed it hard, in warning. Really hard.

"I'll tell you later," I said, squeezing his hand again, in hopes of him getting the point. The point being that I wanted him to

keep quiet.

"Ow. Okay," Ford said, shaking his hand loose from my grip. "You big bully," he added, teasingly.

Evan started talking to Ford then about the cattle that we'd lost that week. I felt that I was out of the questioning 'hot spot'

for the time being, so I looped my arm thru Ford's and, pressed against his side, tried to use him to get warm.

7777777

When we got home, it didn't look as though there were many lights on inside the house, and I felt hopeful. Maybe everybody

would be in bed. I thought it must be almost eleven.

I wanted to get up the stairs and out of my wet jeans, and into something dry, and warm. Very warm. Something

flannel would be heavenly, I thought.

I was asking Ford, as we went up the front steps, where he'd put Captain Jack.

"He's in my room," Ford said.

"Oh, fantastic," Evan grumbled. "That's just great. I suppose he's goin' to be squawkin' all night long."

"Now don't be like that," Ford told him. "Captain Jack likes you, you know. He really does. If you're not careful,

you're gonna hurt his feelings."

"Yeah, yeah," Evan joked back. "Cry me a river, little brother."

We all three were laughing when we walked thru the front door, Ford first, then me, and then Evan.

Inside, we were met by the sight of Adam sitting on the end of one of the couches. The couch that was facing the door.

Hannah was sitting beside him, holding his hand. Crane was sitting there, too, in the oversized chair next to the couch.

Adam had one foot crossed, resting atop the opposite knee. Crane had the same body posture, except that he was jiggling the foot

propped on his knee back and forth.

Even as Ford greeted them, joking with Hannah about if there was any pie left from earlier, I felt the tenseness of the atmosphere

in the room. When I looked at Adam, it was obvious that he was angry about something. His jaw was set in a hard line.

I kind of came to a halt, standing a little behind Ford. I knew, without hearing a word, that whatever was causing Adam to look like

that had something to do with me. A person just knows these things.

Evan, apparently oblivious, closed the door behind us, and went to flop down on the opposite couch.

I looked at Crane, and he looked right back at me. He looked grim, too. I looked to Hannah then, for a possible clue,

and she gave me a steady look. She looked disappointed, and I thought maybe it was because she noticed that I was wearing

the mysterious sweater.

"How was your evening?" Hannah was asking Evan, and Ford. I was grateful for her attempt at normalcy.

"Good," Evan answered. "I whipped Ford and Eddie both at pool tonight."

"Where's Guthrie?" Crane asked, in a general way.

"He was in the middle of a game," Ford said. "He'll be along in a bit, but we decided to head on home, because Har was cold."

Standing behind Ford as I was, I gave him a poke, unseen by the others. He didn't have to announce the fact that I'd been cold!

Or wet. There would be questions about those things. And, not knowing exactly what was going on, I sure didn't want to add to it!

"Your jeans are wet," Adam said, looking right at me. It wasn't a question, not by any stretch. It was a statement, plain and simple.

It was quiet for the longest moment.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. Truthfully, I was scared right then. He wasn't yelling, or hollering, or pacing. But, still,

I could feel the anger radiating from him, and it was scary. Ever since I was a little girl, Adam most times, hardly had to say a word to me to

get his point across. Sometimes a look from him was all it took to bring me back into line. Of course, there were other times when

he would scold, or lecture, or even yell at me. But that look. He had that look right now, and I felt my stomach doing

loop-de-loops in nervousness. I hooked my fingers thru the back of Ford's belt loops. Somehow that made me feel better.

"Nothing to say?" Adam asked me then, his voice dangerously quiet. That's when I knew that it had something to do with

me being half-soaked.

I bit my lip, looking at him in trepidation. I wasn't sure just what I should say. Or not say.

"Are your feet wet too, Harlie?" Hannah asked me then.

Since my jeans were soaked up to the knees, obvious in the bright light of the living room, I knew Hannah wasn't really asking, since

it would stand to reason that my boots were wet, and thus, my feet.

"Yeah," I said, quietly.

"Go upstairs and get changed into somethin' dry," Adam said. "And then you hustle yourself back down here. We're goin'

to have a long talk."

Ford reached back and took my hand, the one that was gripped around his belt loops. He loosened my fingers and then

gave my hand a squeeze of silent support.

"Okay," I said, and went up the stairs quickly. In my room, I pulled off my boots, and soaked socks.

I stripped out of my wet jeans and threw them and the cashmere sweater on the floor in the corner. I rummaged thru my

pajama drawer, pulling out my fuzziest, warmest pair of pajamas. They're blue with white cats all over them. I'm not a big fan of

them ordinarily, because they're usually too hot. But tonight, well, the soft flannel was warm and comforting. Once I had them them

on, I undid my braid, the one that Clare had done so carefully earlier in the evening. I put on a wide headband, and left my hair

down, the curls springing everywhere.

I wondered briefly where Brian and Clare were at. Now that I thought about it, Clare's car had been missing from its usual

parking spot. Maybe they'd gone out to eat, or a movie. I felt only relief that Brian was absent for whatever was about to take

place downstairs. Most times, Brian is in my corner on things, but I had the feeling that whatever had Adam simmering was most

likely something that Brian would be mad about, too.

My thoughts were running wild with the possible reasons that I was about to get raked over the coals downstairs. It must have

something to do with me being all wet. The way Adam had said that, about my jeans being wet, in kind of an ominous way, made me

think that must have something to do with it. But why would he be so mad about that? It could have been something totally innocent that

caused me to get soaked like that. I might have fallen in a puddle, or something like that, for example.

My conscience popped up with the reminder that it could have been innocent, but that it hadn't been. But how would Adam have

found out that I wasn't with Guthrie, safe and sound at Butch's Place? He couldn't possibly know that I'd gone elsewhere, or most especially, he

couldn't have known that I'd gotten soaked from a dunking in a lake, at a party where there'd been underage drinking going on. I realized

it had to have come from Lori somehow. Or her parents. Another unwelcome thought occurred. Could Adam, or Crane, or

one of them, have found out about Karissa, and how I'd been meeting with her?

I shook my head to clear it. There was no use trying to figure it out.

I got out a pair of thick socks, the kind that people wear when they go hunting in the wintertime. They're pretty old, but they

still looked new, because I never had any reason to wear socks like that. But tonight, they were just right. I thought, as I

sat on the edge of my bed to pull them on, that a couple of my toes looked more blue than red from being trapped in wet socks and boots.

I went to the top of the stairs, and paused, trying to draw on my inner courage. I peered over a little, and when I heard

Clare's laugh, and the front door closing, well, whatever inner courage that I'd had, which wasn't much, vanished. Now

Brian was home. The firing squad was complete.

I could hear them all talking, but I couldn't hear everything that they were saying. Only enough to know that they were discussing

me. Probably filling Brian in. I saw Clare coming up the stairs, and flattened myself against the wall, waiting.

I raised my hands at her questioningly. She gave me a sympathetic shake of her head, and then motioned for me to

go down the stairs.

I edged my way down to the halfway mark of the stairs, and stopped. I had the beginnings of what I knew was a headache

caused by not eating a snack since supper, and by drinking three sugary sodas.

Crane was standing up now, and Brian had taken his spot in the oversized chair, leaning forward, with his elbows resting on his

knees. Evan had disappeared. The only relief I felt was at the sight of Ford, standing near Crane. Ford would be,

I thought morosely, the only sympatico, the only comrade that I would have in that entire room.

I went on down the stairs, trying to brace myself up.

The room had gone quiet, even before I reached the bottom of the stairs, and paused there, waiting.

"Come over here, Harlie. Sit down," Adam said, and I obeyed, sitting down on the other couch, where I

was facing all of them.

Crane gave Ford a pat on the shoulder, which I guess was some sort of signal, because Ford said, "Well, I'm gonna turn in. Goodnight

everybody."

There were some answering goodnights, from Hannah and Crane. Adam and Brian were both silent.

"I want Ford to stay," I blurted out, without thinking it thru.

Silence. Heavy oppressive silence.

Ford was standing there, looking as if he felt awkward at my declaration.

"Ford's not gonna save you, Harlie," Adam said, grimly, and I knew I'd only made things worse.

And then Ford was gone, giving me a wink that I knew was meant to be reassuring.

Adam leaned forward a little.

"Did you stay at Butch's all evening?" he asked.

"No." I knew there was no sense in not admitting it. I had the feeling that he already knew, anyway.

"Where'd you go?" This from Brian.

"Lori and I went to another girl's house."

"Why?" Adam asked shortly.

I blinked at him, sort of confused. "What?"

"Why did you do that?"

I hesitated. My reasons were going to sound stupid. Irresponsible.

"Answer me," Adam said, his voice clipped.

"After we watched the guys play a few games, we just thought we'd go," I said, my voice trailing off.

"You just thought you'd go," Adam repeated, in that deadly quiet tone.

I bit my lip, and looked at him, not sure what to say.

Crane came over and sat down on the opposite end of the couch I was sitting on.

"What happened at the other girl's house?" Crane asked.

He sounded calm, and I turned to look at him. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"He's asking what you did at that girl's house!" Brian snapped, his voice at about a level seven.

"Brian," Hannah said, in a placating way.

Brian gave her an impatient glance and kept glaring at me.

"They had some boats there. We went out in one of the canoes," I said reluctantly.

"And that's how you got wet, huh?" Crane said.

"One of the girls stood up in the canoe like an idiot, and started rocking it," I started to explain. I kept looking

at Crane, because looking at Adam and Brian made me feel too queasy.

"Were you drinking, Harlie?" Hannah asked, in a quiet way.

I turned quickly to face her. "No."

Not a single one of them looked as though they believed me. I suddenly felt as if were vitally important that they did.

"I wasn't, Hannah! Not at all!"

Hannah looked sad, and as I looked from one brother to the next, they clearly thought I was lying thru my teeth.

"I wasn't!" I said again, feeling as if I was going to cry. If I was going to get into trouble, I sure didn't want to be blamed for

something that I hadn't done. "You have to believe me!"

"Why?" Adam said, sounding angry. "Why do we have to believe you?"

"Because it's the truth!" I said, getting louder myself.

For a long moment there was silence in the room, and then Adam said, in a voice that was quieter, but sad sounding, "That's not

the way the truth works, Harlie. You can't tell it when it suits you, and then just disregard it when it doesn't."

"Okay, I understand that, but I wasn't drinking, Adam! I wasn't! My jacket smells like beer, but that's because the girl that stood up

in the canoe sloshed beer all over me."

Again there was silence.

"Alright," Adam said. That was it. Just like that. Alright.

It was such a quick change that I was startled. I brushed at my wet eyes. "You believe me, then? That I wasn't

drinking?"

"I believe you," Adam said.

I felt a sense of relief that was palatable. I looked at Brian and Crane. "You guys do, too? Believe me?"

Crane nodded, looking solemn.

"About the drinkin', I believe you," Brian said, in a way that left a lot unsaid. I looked at him, puzzled, wondering what he

was getting at.

They were all watching me, and I felt like a bug under a microscope, being peered at by a bunch of scientists. Disapproving scientists.

"I didn't do any drinking. We just went for a canoe ride. And then we went back to town," I said, a trifle defensively. "What's so

wrong with that?"

I heard Hannah's quick intake of breath, and knew she was shocked by my comment.

"You watch that mouth, missy," Brian said, at a level five voice.

"What's so wrong with it?" Adam repeated. "You tell me, Harlie."

I hesitated, biting my lip, and avoiding looking at Brian's thundercloud face. I let my eyes swing to Crane, hoping for

some support. He didn't really help in that department, though. He had his disappointed face on.

"Because there were kids drinking there," I said, looking back at Adam. "But I told you-"

"You weren't drinking," Adam finished my sentence for me. "We've already clarified that. What else is wrong with

you doing what you did?"

I met his glance, and for a few moments it felt as if there wasn't anybody else in the room but him and I.

"I should have stayed at Butch's with Guthrie," I admitted.

"That's exactly right. You should have."

"I just didn't think it was that big of a deal," I said. "To go to Miranda's, I mean."

"Maybe it wouldn't have been that big of a deal," Adam said, quietly, "Except for one thing."

He was quiet, just for the merest of a moment, and I waited.

"You left here with your brother. And, because of that, we assumed that's where you were. At Butch's, with

Guthrie, and the other kids there. Not leaving there to go somewhere else, where there was alcohol, and no supervision. We trusted

you to be where we thought you were."

I felt my face flush all hot. Suddenly, my flannel pajamas were way too warm.

Guthrie chose that moment to come thru the front door, his eyes widening as he surveyed the living room.

"Everybody still up?" he asked cheerfully.

When he was greeted only by silence, and grim expressions, Guthrie closed the door gently and asked, "What's goin' on?"

"Sit down, Guth," Adam said, and Guthrie walked over to the couch and sat in the spot between Crane and I. He tried to get

my attention, but I avoided his eye.

"What's wrong?" Guthrie asked, concerned.

"We're havin' a talk about honesty," Adam said. "And trust."

"Oh," Guthrie sounded puzzled.

"Did you know where your sister was going when she left Butch's tonight?" Brian asked.

Before Guthrie even had a chance to answer, I sat up straight, and said vehemently, "No, he didn't! I didn't tell him! This isn't

Guthrie's fault."

Guthrie turned to me. "Where'd you go?" he asked.

Instead of answering his question, I kept my eyes on Adam, and said again, "Guthrie didn't know."

"She just went drivin' around with Lori for awhile," Guthrie said. "Or to a friend's." He looked at me again. "Right, Har?"

"That's not exactly what happened, is it, Harlie?" Adam asked in a quiet way.

"No," I said reluctantly.

"Go on up to bed, Guth," Adam said then.

"Okay," Guthrie said, but he kept sitting there beside me. "But what did happen, exactly?"

He was popping his knuckles in nervousness.

"Go on to bed," Adam said again.

Guthrie got to his feet, and, obviously reluctant, he headed up the stairs. I was sorry, for sure, to see

him go.

"Did Lori's mom call you?" I asked.

"That's right."

Lori must have gotten caught trying to sneak into the house in her wet clothes.

In another abrupt change that left me surprised and wary, Adam said, "Tell me about Wednesday night."

Wednesday night? I thought quickly back to two nights ago. I'd met up with Karissa, and then went to my night

class. Gotten home late. Adam had been angry, and then we'd agreed to talk the next night. Which was then postponed, because

of the emergency with the cow that had been in labor.

I wasn't sure what Adam was getting at. He couldn't have found out about Karissa. That much I was sure of.

"I had my class Wednesday night," I said slowly, trying to read Adam's face.

"Uh huh. And?"

"I was late getting home, and you were upset with me," I said, still not sure where this was going.

"Yeah. I was. " Adam leaned forward a little more. "You asked to go to Lori's after school. To do homework and eat supper. That

right?"

"Yeah," I said slowly. When I didn't say any more, Adam's expression changed. He went from looking angry to looking downright

furious. He stood up, and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Damn it, Harlie!" he swore, and I blinked at him, even more scared than I had been.

"What?" I asked, honestly perplexed.

Instead of Adam, Hannah said, "Lori's mother said you left before they ate supper. That you wanted to go to class early."

Geez. Lori's mom had surely been generous with her information.

"Yeah," I said.

"Yeah, what?" Brian demanded. "Yeah, you left before they ate supper? Or yeah, you wanted to go to class early?"

"Both," I said.

"So you didn't eat then?" Adam asked. "After you made a specific promise to me that you would?"

"I ate," I said, without thinking.

"Yeah?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, Adam," I said, praying that he wouldn't ask me what, or where at.

"But not at Lori's. So again, not what you said that you were going to do, and not where you said you were going to be," Adam said, more quietly.

I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but before I could decide, Adam went on ruthlessly, "How about the night you were late

gettin' home from your car hopping job? Were you really doin' something else that night, too?"

I couldn't help the flush on my face, a sign that I knew Adam would take as guilt.

"I was working that night," I defended myself.

"And then after work?" he prompted.

"I was talking to someone-" I began. Every fiber in my being said that tonight was not the right time to tell them about Karissa.

Adam held up a hand to silence me. "You know what, Harlie? Just save it. I'm thinking now that you just might have

been drinking tonight after all. I'm beginning to doubt every word that comes out of your mouth."

I stared at him. If he'd slapped my face, he couldn't have hurt me any more than he did with his words.

"Please don't say that," I said, so softly it was almost a whisper.

"Why not?" he countered.

"Because," I said, feeling sick to my stomach, "I don't want you to think that about me."

"Well, then," Adam said, not sounding angry anymore, but just tired, "I guess you've got some work ahead of you, to rebuild

my trust."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "You're grounded. Two weeks. That means nothing but school and church. No

phone. No driving. Chores and homework, that's it. Understood?"

I nodded. "What about my night class on Wednesdays?" I dared to ask.

Adam exchanged a look in Brian and Crane's direction. "What do you guys say?" he asked.

"I say she doesn't go. Period," Brian said.

"I have to go," I protested. "Or I'll get too far behind! Please, Brian!"

After a long moment, Brian gave a shrug, "Well, maybe so."

"Alright," Adam said. "You can go, but one of us will drive you in, and then pick you up when it's over."

I wanted to protest, I really did, but I bit my tongue.

"Alright," Adam said. "We clear on everything?"

I nodded, feeling miserable.

"Answer," he ordered.

"Yes. We're clear," I said.

"Go do your shot, and get to bed," he said, and turned to go up the stairs. Brian gave me a frightening look, more of a glare,

really, and then turned to follow Adam.

I was left sitting there with Crane next to me, and Hannah across from me.

My eyes filled with tears. Hannah gave a heavy sigh, and stood up. She came over to stand in front of me.

"Tomorrow's another day, sweetie."

I gave the merest of nods, and Hannah sighed again, and ran her hand over my hair.

When she had gone, to follow Adam and Brian up the stairs, I sat there for another moment or so, and Crane stood up, too,

and held out a hand to me.

"Come on," he said.

I looked at his hand without taking it, and then up into his face.

"What?" I asked.

"Come on," he said again, and I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

He put a hand on the middle of my back, and directed me towards the kitchen.

Once there, he switched on the lights.

"Get your shot done," he told me, and I went to get out my supplies, wiping at my cheek with the palm of my hand.

While I was doing that, Crane went to the refrigerator, got out the eggs, and started cracking and frying some in the

egg skillet.

"Put some toast in," he said, as I was putting away my supplies.

I looked at him puzzled, and then went to get the bread out of the bread box.

"How many pieces?" I asked him, pushing down the first two pieces of bread into the toaster.

"Two for me, and however many you want."

"I don't want any toast," I said.

"A person has to have toast with eggs," he said.

"I don't want any eggs, either," I protested.

"Impossible to have an egg sandwich without eggs," Crane said, and I decided that he had gone a little crazy. Well, so had I, so

at least I'd have some company.

7