At school the next day I was distracted, thinking about the meeting coming up that night with Karissa and my brothers.

I hadn't studied very well for a history test, and when the teacher collected them, I knew that I hadn't passed it. A fact which was confirmed,

at the end of the hour, when Mr. Stanley handed the tests back. There was an overly large F on the top of the page. He looked at me questioningly,

but said nothing, continuing on down the aisle, distributing papers. The thought of that F bothered and worried me.

I was trying to think how much a failing grade on a test would bring my letter grade down in the class.

After school, Guthrie stopped at the hardware store, telling me that he needed to buy a new pocketknife.

"Wanna go in with?" he asked me, as he put the truck in park.

"No. I'll wait out here," I told him, reaching for a couple of pieces of his gum out of the glove compartment.

When Guthrie had disappeared thru the heavy wooden door of the hardware store, I propped my feet up on the dashboard,

and popped the pieces of gum in my mouth, wadding up the wrappers and tossing them onto the floorboard. A fact which was

sure to rile Guthrie, since he's pretty picky about keeping his truck clean.

I was still thinking about Karissa, and worrying about what would happen, when I saw Ivy Ramsey coming out of the grocery store,

carrying a bag of groceries and munching on an apple.

On an impulse, I got out of the truck, and walked toward her. She was munching on an apple, and it took her a couple of

moments to see me, and then she smiled at me in recognition.

"Hello, Harlie," she greeted me.

"Hello," I said.

She paused beside me, and made a comment about how warm it was for early March.

"Is this common for this part of the state?" she asked me.

I told her that it was, and then asked her where she was from.

"I grew up in Minnesota," she said, and I looked at her in surprise.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah. I'm used to a lot of snow. And I mean A LOT," she smiled.

"Do you miss Minnesota?" I asked her.

"I miss some things about it, but I'm enjoying the weather here in California."

I nodded in understanding.

"Did you still want some help with the boxes of Doc G's stuff?" I asked her, surprising myself. The offer seemed to come out of the air. I hadn't made any plans

to do it.

I'd surprised Ivy, too. I could tell.

"That would be wonderful, Harlie," she said. "There's so many files and things."

"I think I can help you," I said, and tried to ignore the drop of my stomach.

"Anytime you feel you can."

I nodded into her kind face. "Maybe tomorrow morning?" I asked her, since the next day was Saturday.

"Sure. Give me a call first, and I'll let you know if I'll be around the office, or if I have a call to go out on."

"Okay," I agreed.

She smiled at me again. "Alright. I'll see you."

I walked back towards Guthrie's truck as he was coming out of the hardware store.

Ivy said hello to Guthrie as she passed by, and Guthrie watched her go, and then turned to me.

"Who's that?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"Ivy Ramsey. The new vet."

"Wow," Guthrie said, and I had to giggle a little, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

"Pretty, huh?" I teased him.

"Holy smokes, you can say that again," Guthrie said, still staring after Ivy.

As we got into the truck, and Guthrie started the motor, he said, "I hate to say it, but I just can't see her covered in blood, with her arm up a cow,

trying to turn a calf."

"Why? Because she's pretty?" I scoffed.

"Well, yeah," Guthrie admitted.

"That's a sexist remark," I informed him. "Just because she's good-looking, that has nothing to do with her ability or skills as a vet."

"I know, I know," Guthrie said, and I could tell he was trying to pacify me. "I didn't mean it like it sounded-it's just a surprise, that's all."

"Don't be a chauvanist pig, Guthrie," I said.

"I'm not," Guthrie denied.

"Hmm," I said, giving him a scolding look of sisterly disapproval.

"I'm not. You know I'm not," Guthrie insisted.

"Oh, I know you aren't really," I said, letting him off the hook.

"Good. Glad that's settled," he told me, and then leaned over to look at where my feet rested on top of the gum wrappers.

"Pick up your trash," he told me.

7

When we got home, Hannah greeted Guthrie and I, as was her usual habit when we got home from school.

She told Guthrie what was available to grab for an after-school snack, and asked us both how our day had gone.

Guthrie shrugged, and went in search of the cookies. "Same old, same old," he said.

"How about you?" she asked me.

I shrugged in answer, too. "Okay. I had trouble concentrating."

"Ah," she said, knowing exactly what I meant. "You're just going to have to trust that Adam and Brian will handle everything

the right way tonight."

I took a pear from the fruit bowl on the table.

"I guess," I said, feeling sort of weird, but not knowing exactly why.

I went upstairs to change out of my school clothes, pulling on ragged jeans and a sweatshirt, and changing to my oldest pair of boots.

I came back downstairs, and went out onto the front porch, sitting down in the porch swing.

When Crane came up the front steps a few minutes later, I was still sitting there, munching on my pear.

"What's up, buttercup?" he greeted me.

"Nothing much."

"How was school?"

I shrugged. "I don't know," I said vaguely. "Not so good, I guess."

He paused beside the porch swing, pulling off his leather gloves, and sticking them in his back pocket.

"Why?" he asked.

I shrugged again. I didn't really want to tell him that I had failed a test. He would find that out soon enough.

"Just kind of blah," I said instead, in answer.

He looked concerned at me. "You feeling alright?"

I wasn't really, truthfully, feeling that great at all. But I've learned over the course of months of having diabetes that there are days that are better than

others. So I just shrugged again. "I'm okay," I said.

He didn't look all that convinced, but he didn't say anymore about it. So I squinted my eyes against the sun, and looked up at him.

"Are you going tonight? With Adam and Brian?" I asked.

Crane didn't ask where. He knew what I meant.

"If they want me to go, I will," he said, non-committal.

"I want you to go," I told him, emphasizing the word I.

"They'll be fine, peanut."

"I don't know," I said. "You're a good influence on people. I think you should go."

"Well, I'll see," he said, still not promising.

"You have homework?" he asked me, then.

"A bunch," I said, without interest.

Crane nodded, and went on into the house. I finished my pear, and took the core over to throw to the chickens. I went to do my chores then,

still feeling vaguely "off". Instead of feeling better, I began to feel worse. I was getting a headache, and my stomach hurt.

When I went inside, I found Hannah, sitting on the couch holding a laughing Isaac. The smell of roast floated thru the air

from the kitchen.

"Can I take a bath in your room?" I asked her.

"Yes. Sure," she said, and then gave me a closer look. "Are you alright?"

"A headache," I said, in explanation.

"Well, go on. Take your time," she told me.

I went up the stairs, and grabbed a clean pair of shorts and t shirt from my chest of drawers, and then went into Hannah's bedroom,

shutting the door, and starting the water running into the bathtub. I poured in some bubble bath stuff, and then sank down into the hot water.

It was so hot that I knew no one else had been running any hot water all afternoon. Our water heater is really old, and the water is only this hot

when you're the first one to use it.

After awhile I could hear sounds of the family up and down the hallway, and voices. I closed my eyes, trying to wish my "shobbly" feeling away.

That's a word Hannah says for a cross between feeling wobbly and shaky.

I heard the bedroom door opening, and then Hannah called in, "Can I come in?"

I told her yes, and she appeared at the bathroom door. "Is the hot water helping your headache?" she asked.

It wasn't, particularly, but I didn't want to start any fussing, so I just nodded a little and said, "I think so."

"Well, it's time for supper in about ten minutes, so finish up," she told me.

"Can I soak awhile? And eat later?" I asked, hopefully.

"I think you should come and eat now. At least a little bit of something. You can soak in the tub again later

if you want. Besides, there's a surprise for you downstairs."

"What surprise?" I asked.

"Come down and see," Hannah said.

Hannah had her 'insistent' voice on. I sighed and said okay, and when she'd gone, I got out reluctantly and dried off, pulling on my clean shorts and Merle

Haggard t shirt.

The phone was ringing as I walked downstairs in my bare feet, and the living room was full of loudness and laughing.

In the center of it all, was Ford. I felt a swelling of joy inside.

I would have elbowed my way thru the mass of McFaddens to get to Ford, but I didn't have to. He saw me at the bottom of the stairs and

came to me, his face lit up with a grin.

"Hey, trouble," he greeted me.

I squeezed his neck tight in a hug. "Look who's talking," I countered.

"Did you bring Captain Jack?" I asked, after he'd turned me loose from the hug.

"Naw, not this time. One of my buddies at the dorm is gonna keep an eye on him for me."

'"Oh." I couldn't help being a little bit disappointed.

"He's doing fine, though," Ford said, reading my expression. "Really. He is, Har."

"Okay."

Supper ensued, and I managed to eat enough to keep Hannah from commenting. When he was finishing, Adam looked down the table

at all of us younger kids.

"What's the plans for tonight?" he asked, in a general way of all of us.

Ford shrugged, squirting whipped cream on the top of his piece of apple pie. "Nothing much for me. Tomorrow I might go shoot some pool."

Guthrie said he was going to play some basketball with Kenny and Trent and some of the other guys from school.

Adam's gaze rested on me. "How about you, sugar?" he asked.

"Not much," I said. "I'll hang out with Ford."

Evan scraped the last of his pie off the plate. "Some guy called earlier for you," he said.

"For me?" I asked, not sure who he was talking to.

"Yes. You."

"Who?" I asked.

"I don't know." Evan hesitated, in thought. "I think he said his name was Nathan-or somethin' like that. Yeah, Nathan somethin'."

"When did he call?"

"An hour or so ago," Evan said carelessly.

"Thanks for telling me," I said, with intentional sarcasm.

"You're welcome," Evan said, giving me a grin.

"Nathan who?" Brian said, as he stood up and pushed in his chair.

I thought for a minute. I couldn't place a Nathan in my mind.

"I don't know," I said.

"A kid from school?" Brian continued doggedly.

"I don't know a Nathan," I said, purposely sounding disinterested, so Brian would stop with his questions.

Adam, on his way to the coffeepot for a refill, let his hand run over my hair as he passed.

"Ready?" he said to Hannah.

"Yes," she said, and got up, too.

As Brian stood up, and then Crane followed, I knew they were all getting ready to go to their 'meeting' with Karissa. For a fleeting moment, I

felt sorry for her. Four against one. Those weren't very good odds for Karissa. Well, maybe not four AGAINST one, exactly.

"Will you all keep an eye and ear out for Isaac?" Hannah asked, in a general way.

"I will," Clare said, sounding happy about it.

I didn't know why, exactly, but I felt not only worried about them all meeting up with Karissa. I also felt a little emotional about it.

I started to clear the table, and when Adam said, "We'll see you later, alright?" to me, I only nodded, avoiding his eye.

He stopped beside me, and turned my chin so that I was looking at him.

"No worrying," he reminded me.

I nodded. "It's just-"

"Just what?" he asked softly.

"I didn't tell you this, but she said Mama didn't want to keep having babies. That she had no choice but to act as if she did." I wasn't sure just where

that came from, but it just sort of burst out of me.

Adam's jaw tightened, and I knew I was probably sending him out angrier at Karissa than he would have been.

His voice, though, when he spoke, was really firm, but calm enough. "Mom wanted every one of us, Harlie. And don't you ever

believe otherwise. You hear me?"

He sounded so certain, so knowing, so believeable, that I did believe him. And I nodded.

"Yes, Adam," I said.

He searched my face with his eyes for a long moment, and then gave me a half-smile and a nod.

"Alright."

7