For the next week or so, life was pretty calm. Almost dull, even. The most exciting thing I did really, well, it was reading my

mom's journal. The more I read, the more I admired her. She'd been full of spunk, knowing exactly what she wanted, and intent on achieving

it. She'd been a good student, and by everything that I read, it seemed that she'd been a caring daughter to both of her parents.

And, of course, she also had been determined to make Adam McFadden hers.

As far as Karissa was concerned, my mom still referred to her as "Maggie" throughout the journal, and seemed to have an on again/off again

type of relationship with her. There were many references to Karissa, where my mom had felt that Karissa was too abrupt with both of her

parents, to the point of being curt. She would tell Karissa just what she thought of her abrasiveness with their father, and their mother, too.

I got the impression, as I read more, that my mom had been the favored child. I wondered if that was because she was the youngest, or because

she didn't have Karissa's rougher personality.

I thought a lot about all of the writing that she'd done in that journal. Writing down her feelings, and her thoughts. It gave me a glimpse into

what sort of a girl she'd been.

I had to admit, though, that the most interesting reading for me were the parts about my dad and her.

I mean, I'm sure if my mom had been around during my growing up years, she would have told me some stories about her and my dad. How they met, the

time they spent dating, and all of that. But, being able to read it myself, written in her own hand that way, it was almost as if I could pretend she was sitting next

to me, right there on my bed, or the step on the porch, or wherever I happened to be sitting to read. And, besides that, I don't know if she would have told me, as her

young daughter, how she really felt when my dad kissed her for the first time. In the journal, it was there. Right in front of me, written in some detail.

Some people might find that weird, or whatever, reading about their parents that way. But I didn't. It made me feel close to them. Both of them. They'd been

young people, full of ideas and dreams, and full of love for each other.

"March 4, 1954

It was real cold tonight, when Adam brought me home from the movies. We sat outside in his truck for the longest time,

talking. And kissing. He was wearing his sheepskin jacket, the one that's all furry inside, and he wrapped me up in that, too.

He was talking again about his ranch. The one he wants to have some day. He's fed up with working for other people. He

says he is going to take his savings, and borrow some money from the bank, and buy his own place. He says he has a place in mind. Somewhere

in Calaveras County. He said he thinks I'd like it. That he wants to show it to me. That it would be a good place to raise cattle. And kids.

Well, when he said that! Oh, my! I reached up to turn on the overhead light in his truck cab. And I looked him right in the eye.

I asked him just what he was doing, talking to me about kids that way.

He smiled his beautiful smile at me and said, "Well, Katie, I want a lot of kids. If you're gonna marry me, you need to know that right out of the gate."

Honestly! I know what people will say. We've only been dating for a few weeks. I mean, I've known him for a while, but really dating, it hasn't been that long. People

will say it's too quick. That I'm too young. But when he reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled out a little box, opening it, and I saw the gold intertwined with a sparkle, I didn't care about what anyone would say.

He took the ring out, and slipped it on my finger. "Okay?" he asked me.

And I whispered back, "Okay."

He pulled me close again, and whispered, "Remember. Lots of babies."

I was in my bed, almost asleep, when I realized something. In true Adam McFadden fashion, he'd never actually asked me to marry him! Just those comments about lots

of kids. And then putting the ring on my hand! No romantic proposal. No begging me on bended knee to be his wife! I tried to muster up some indignant feelings on my part.

But, I felt the still strange feeling of the weight of his ring on my finger, and I just couldn't do it.

Maybe it wasn't the proposal that girls dream about. But it was mine. He was mine. I had the ring to prove it. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered just how

many babies he did want.

Kate"

7

It was one evening later that week that I'd been sitting at Crane's desk, doing some homework. Everyone else was still either outside, or in the kitchen, so when the phone started ringing I called out, "I've got it!"

When I said hello, there was a little bit of silence on the other end.

"Hello?" I said, again, a little impatiently.

"Hello," came a familiar voice. "How are you, Harlie?"

She sounded subdued, not confident as usual.

It had been two weeks with no attempts on her part to connect with me. I shouldn't have been surprised to hear her voice, but I was. For a moment, anyway.

Surprised enough that I was silent.

"Harlie?" she prompted.

"Yes," I managed, "I'm here."

I took a backwards look around the room and toward the kitchen to see if anyone would overhear my conversation with her. There was no sign of any McFadden.

I knew I should just hang up on her. That's what Adam would want me to do.

But I didn't.

"How are you?" she asked again.

"I'm fine."

"I'm glad. I've missed you."

I wondered if she really had. I didn't know what to think about her. She'd been so wonderful, and indulgent, and all of that, until the day she

threatened to take back all the photo albums.

When I was silent again, she said, "Harlie?"

"Yes."

"Could we meet somewhere? To talk?"

"I can't."

"Bring Guthrie with you. Ford, too, if he wants to come."

I knew Guthrie wouldn't go along with this whole thing. Well, he might if I badgered him and begged. But I knew Ford would have no part in it,

knowing that Adam had forbidden me to talk to Karissa at all.

"Ford wouldn't come," I said bluntly. "And Guthrie probably wouldn't, either."

"Then come alone."

"Why? So you can take back all the photo albums?" I said, with a sudden viciousness that even surprised myself.

"What?" Karissa said, sounding shocked. "Of course not."

"That's what you said," I reminded her hotly. "You've changed your mind?"

"Did I say that? Did I really?" she asked.

"Yes, you said it!" What was she trying to do, pretend she didn't remember?

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so very, very sorry! I don't remember saying that, but if I did, it was utterly stupid. Of course those albums are yours!"

Why wouldn't she remember? She couldn't be serious.

I thought for a moment, and then said, sarcastically, "Did you have too much wine with lunch that day, too? Maybe that's why you don't remember."

There was a long, long moment of utter silence.

"I don't think that's very fair of you, Harlie," she said finally. "I thought you'd agreed, and accepted the fact that there are two sides to every

story. In this case, my side, and your brother's side."

"I can see two sides to things," I defended myself. "But you did say that about the albums."

"I've apologized, Harlie. I will again. If I said that, then I'm sorry."

Again with the 'If'! It was like beating a dead horse, as the old saying goes. She wasn't going to fully accept responsibility.

"Alright," I said stiffly.

"So can we get together?"

"I can't," I said.

I guess she heard the finality in my voice.

"Let me guess. Adam's decree. Am I correct?"

There was no point in lying. "Yeah."

"And you're alright with that decision? About not seeing me?"

"I have to be," I told her.

"He certainly keeps you under his thumb, doesn't he?"

"Don't talk about Adam," I told her fiercely.

"Alright," she said, sounding weary. "But I thought we had something between us. Something worth continuing."

I hesitated. "Maybe so. But it's all messed up now."

There was what seemed like a long silence. Then, to my surprise, she said, "Is Adam there? I'd like to talk to him."

I was so surprised that I didn't answer for a second.

"Why?" I asked.

"Is he there?" she asked, not answering my question.

"I don't know if he'll talk to you or not," I said, starting to feel panicky. Adam would think I was talking to Karissa behind his back. And who knows what fury he would unlease on Karissa or what verbal assaults she would hurl at him. It was a lose-lose situation.

"Well, can you go and tell him I'm on the telephone? Please?"

"I think he's outside right now," I said, chickening out.

"Alright. I'll call back later then."

"What do you want to say to him?" I insisted.

She gave a tinkly little laugh. "Don't worry, Harlie. I'm not going to eat him alive, if that's what you're worried about. Besides, I

know for a fact that Adam can take care of himself just fine. He doesn't need your protection."

"Maybe he doesn't need it," I said. "But he has it, anyway."

There was another little laugh of acknowledgement. "Fair enough. When is a good time to call?"

"There's no particular good time," I said vaguely.

"Alright." I heard her sigh a little. "Let's talk about something else. Tell me about school. Your night class."

I talked for a few minutes, just general stuff, nothing too personal, until I heard the front door opening. I took a swift look

behind me. Brothers were coming in. Scraping their boots on the rug, and talking amongst themselves.

"I need to go," I said hastily.

"Alright. Goodbye, sweetheart. I'll talk to you soon."

"Goodbye," I said, and hung the phone receiver up quickly.

I turned to face them all as they headed in different directions. Kitchen. Couch. Up the stairs to shower.

"Hey," Crane said, pausing beside me.

"Hey."

"What are you up to?" he asked, with a slight grin.

"Nothing. Homework."

"You look like you were caught in the cookie jar or something."

"You're silly," I told him, for lack of anything better, or more convincing to say, and went back to my science homework.

7

I debated on what to do. Should I warn Adam and Brian that Karissa might call? That would be the right thing to do. I knew that.

But, knowing the likely reaction of one or both of them, I hesitated. I was finally back in the good graces of both of my big brothers. I

wanted to keep it that way. If I told them she had called, and that I'd spoken to her, and that she was likely, possibly, going to call again

to talk to them, they would get all fired up. Irritated. Angry. Short tempered.

Gahhhh!

Still, I didn't think it fair to have them blindsided by the surprise of Karissa's voice on the other end of the telephone.

As everybody was setting in for the evening, settling into the couches and chairs, sock feet resting on the coffee table, and

beers in hand, I went to take my shower, coming back downstairs in my pajamas, with my hair wet and curly.

"Get yourself a snack before bedtime," Hannah told me, as she sat down next to Adam.

"Okay. I will." I hesitated, pausing beside the edge of the couch, Adam on one end, and Brian in the oversized chair next to it.

"Adam?" I said tentatively, picking at the edge of a blanket over the back of the couch.

"Hmm?"

"Karissa called here."

Instantly I had his full attention. Brian's, too. And Hannah. Crane. Even Evan stopped flicking thru the television stations to listen to the

conversation. Guthrie paused on his way back from the kitchen, a plate loaded with grapes and cookies, and a glass of milk in his hands, and I could

tell he was poised and ready for a huge confrontation.

"When?" Adam asked, shortly.

"A little while ago. After supper."

"And you talked to her?" Brian demanded.

Which I thought was a really silly question.

"Yes, Bri," I said with a sigh. "For a few minutes."

"Weren't you told to not talk to her?" Brian continued mercilessly. "Why didn't you hang up?"

I faced him, trying to decide on the best answer.

"I don't know," I said. "I thought about it."

"But you didn't," he said.

"No."

I looked back at Adam.

"What did she want?" Adam asked.

"To talk. To ask how I was. To ask me and Guthrie to meet her. I told her that I couldn't."

"Huh," Adam said, sounding like a six on a level ten scale of irritated.

"I wasn't trying to disobey you, Adam," I said, sort of quietly.

Adam gave me a long look, but he didn't answer that.

"She says she's going to call back. To talk to you."

He was surprised by that. I could tell.

"She is, huh?" he asked, dryly.

"Yeah. That's what she said, anyway."

"What does she want?" Brian demanded.

"I don't know. She wouldn't say," I told him.

My brothers exchanged looks between them. And then, Brian kind of made a humph sound, and started drinking his beer.

Adam picked up the newspaper on the table, shook it out a little and opened it up.

"Go get your snack," he told me, in dismissal.

No thank you for telling him about it. But at least, no admonishment either.

I sighed, and went to get some crackers and apple slices. I sat down beside Evan while I ate, watching an old

rerun of Bonanza with him. It was nearly nine-thirty by then, and the telephone began ringing.

Guthrie, who was watching the Cartwrights with Evan and I, gave me a telling look. A look which quite plainly said, that

Karissa had wasted no time.

I shrugged. Maybe it wasn't her. I could hope. It could be one of the other members of the Cattlemen's Association, calling to

talk to Adam or Brian. It could be one of Hannah's friends. It could be Nancy calling for Evan.

I started to get up to go answer the phone, but Adam stood up, and waved me back. "Finish your snack," he said brusquely.

I was done, but I didn't point that out.

I waited, holding my breath while Adam went to the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he said.

I was watching his face, trying to read his expression. And I could. I could tell by the way that his jaw tightened that

it was Karissa on the other end of the line.

7