Adam and I rode for a ways farther after that. Eventually we stopped to stretch our legs, and to give the horses a rest.

The spot where we stopped at was one where I hadn't been for a long time. It was atop of a hill, overlooking the valley down below.

Almost to the border of our property. Petra was ground-tied, and I walked over to the edge of the cliff, looking down. By now it was nearly

dusk.

When I turned back towards Adam, he was untying the blanket that he'd brought along. And then he walked over closer to where I was,

and shook the blanket, spreading it out onto the ground.

I watched him as he lowered himself on the blanket, lying down and stretching out on his back, with his arms folded underneath

his head.

"What are you doing?" I asked him curiously.

"What's it look like?" he responded.

"It looks like you're going to take a nap," I said.

"I might," he said mildly. "But I thought we might do a little star-gazing first."

"Oh," I said.

When I just stood there, he turned his head to look at me. "Come on. Best seat in the house right here."

I went over and settled myself on the blanket next to him, folding my knees up, my arms wrapped around them.

We were quiet for a while, until the stars began to appear in the night sky. One or two at a time, until there was a entire

sky full. After awhile we began to point out stars to each other, differing good-naturedly on which ones were the brightest, or the biggest.

In a moment of quiet, I hugged my knees and said, "I hope Karissa decides to come to the house sometime."

"She called earlier. She's gonna stop by tomorrow afternoon."

I turned towards him, though I couldn't really see his face clearly in the darkness.

"Really?" I asked. "How come you didn't tell me?"

"It was when you were havin' your go-round with Hannah. Besides, I'm telling you now," he pointed out.

"Was she nice when she called?" I asked him.

"She was civil enough."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that she wasn't rude. And she wasn't friendly. She was civil," Adam said.

"Oh," I said, thoughtfully. I was wondering how it would go the next day. It was bound to be awkward.

Adam sat up, and then got to his feet. "We should head home."

I thought he sounded almost regretful, and I felt a pang of regret, too.

He held out a hand to me, lit up by the light from the moon, which was extremely bright tonight.

I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet.

"It was fun," I said. "I'm glad we came."

"Me, too."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime soon," I offered.

"Just tell me when," Adam said, and I reached out to squeeze his hand. Mostly because it just felt like the right thing to do.

"Okay. I will."

We rode back to the house, not talking much. If I was honest about it, I would have to admit that if Adam hadn't been along, I might

have gotten lost in the dark going back. That's how far we had ridden.

At the barn, Adam switched on the lights, and we unsaddled our horses. By now I was tired, and sleepy.

"Tired?" Adam asked me, as we put Petra and Duke back into the pasture.

"Yeah. But it's a good kind of tired," I told him.

"Better get a snack before you turn in," he reminded me, as we headed across the yard to the house.

"Okay."

We headed thru the living room, lit with one lamp, into the kitchen together.

I pulled a bowl of macaroni from the fridge, and went to put it into the microwave.

"Want some?" I asked him, pulling down a plate from the cabinet.

"No. Thanks. I think I'll turn in."

"Okay." I turned to lean against the counter while the microwave heated the macaroni.

As Adam headed past me, towards the back stairs, he paused in front of me.

"Eat, and then get to bed, alright?"

"I will."

He smiled at me a little, and brushed a curl away from my face.

"I'm smart enough to know that Saturday nights like these with you are going to be fewer and more far between," he said.

I looked up at him questioningly.

"Spending a night, star-gazing with me," he said in explanation.

"I won't be too busy for that," I denied, thinking that he'd sounded a little sad.

In answer, Adam just smiled again, and then leaned over to kiss the top of my head.

"Night, sugar," he said.

"Night," I said, as he disappeared up the stairs.

Just at that moment, the timer on the microwave began to beep.

7777777

I was still feeling good the next morning about my evening with Adam. I approached Hannah with a cheerful good morning. She smiled at

me, and said, "Good morning, sweetie," but she looked distracted.

During breakfast, Hannah brought up the fact that she had called and invited Karissa to lunch. I looked at her in appreciation, but her statement

was met by nearly everybody else with a look of disbelief. Even displeasure.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Brian demanded, and Clare gave him a hard elbow to the ribs.

"Brian!" she said, looking irritated.

"Well, her comin' here is one thing," Brian went on, "but I don't particularly care to face her across the table for lunch."

"Well, that's too bad," Hannah said, in the same tone that she had used on me the day before. "Because I invited her, and she

accepted."

I looked towards Adam. He hadn't mentioned that the night before to me, and so I wondered if he knew what Hannah had done.

He was continuing to eat his bacon and eggs, and I couldn't really get a good read on him.

All Adam said was a grudging, "We all just have to make the best of it while she's here."

"You all act as though she's going to fly in on a broom or something," Clare said, lightly. I knew she was making a joke, and

trying to lighten things up a little.

But her joke landed flat, because nobody laughed. The only response she got was a "Humph," from Adam, and a

look from Brian, as he got up and pushed in his chair.

"Don't be any too surprised if she does just that," Brian said darkly, and went outside, letting the back door shut with a slam.

"Well, good grief," Clare muttered, sounding miffed. A few moments later, she said, "Excuse me," and got up from the table

and went up the back stairs.

I felt sorry for Clare, who I knew had only been trying to help. Brian didn't have to be such a bear, I thought. I wished I was

brave enough to follow him outside, and tell him so.

Self-preservation is a strong instinct. I thought that even though I was siding with Clare on this, it would be the wise

and prudent thing for me to keep my opinion to myself. Tangling with Brian wouldn't be a great start to the day.

Everybody went to church, with the exception of Evan, and Brian and Clare. I hoped that they would have made

up by the time we got home.

I had trouble keeping my mind on the sermon that morning. I rode home with Guthrie and Ford, letting them talk over me.

Ford was saying that he was thinking about heading back to college early that afternoon.

"Aren't you going to stay while Karissa's there?" I asked him, feeling upset.

"I'm stayin' for lunch," Ford said.

"Well, okay, but you're going to leave as soon as you eat?" I demanded. "Don't do that, Ford!"

Ford gave me a look of surprise at my outburst. "What's the big deal?" he asked me.

"I want you to stay, that's all!" I said.

"I will for a while. But I've got a lot of studying to do this afternoon when I get back-" he began to explain.

I slumped down in the seat, sandwiched between him and Guthrie, who was driving. "Maybe you should have done your studying last

night instead of staying out so late with Valerie!" I snapped.

Ford looked even more surprised. "I wasn't out so late," he denied. He frowned at me. "What's your problem, Har?"

"Nothing," I said, and crossed my arms.

Ford looked irritated, and spent the rest of the ride home looking out the window. In contrariness, I wished that he

would keep talking to me. I sulked the rest of the way home. Or, as I prefer to say, instead of sulked, I was pensive.

As soon as we pulled up the driveway at home, and Guthrie parked the truck, he got out, and gave me a nod towards Ford. His way, I knew,

of telling me to smooth things over with Ford.

I slid out of the seat after Ford, and caught at his arm.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Ford paused, looking at me. "Okay. But what's the deal?"

"I just want you to be around while Karissa's here. I'd just feel better if you were."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It's just the way I feel, alright? Why do you have to argue? Can't you just do it?" I demanded.

My tone had a sharp sound to it again, and Ford sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward.

"Wow. That apology didn't last long."

"Never mind," I said curtly, but with what I thought was dignity. "Forget I asked. Just go on back to school."

I turned to go into the house, and I heard Ford slam the truck door and then he called after me, "Don't try that prima donna

routine on me, Har!"

I resisted the urge to turn around and stick out my tongue at him. By now, everybody else was pulling into the driveway, coming from

church.

I went upstairs, and to my bedroom, changing from my church clothes to a pair of my better jeans, and a lacy yellow shirt. By the time

I got back downstairs, and went into the kitchen, Hannah was already there, bustling around, and stirring something in the crockpot.

"Do you need help with anything?" I asked.

"You can set the table," she said.

I went to the cabinet, and began taking down the plates.

"I have an idea," Hannah said. "Why don't we use the good dishes?"

I looked at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Sure. Why not? It'll be a nice change," Hannah said.

I had a pretty good idea what Brian, and even Adam would think of us using my mom's wedding china for what was supposed to be a casual lunch. They would think it was

unnecessary. That we were trying to impress Karissa, or something. Which, in a way, I guess would be right.

"Are you sure?" I asked her. "I don't think Brian-"

"Brian most likely won't even notice," Hannah said, waving away my concerns. "And, besides, I think your mother would be perfectly alright with us using her dishes to

entertain her sister. Don't you?"

I knew enough from reading my mom's journal that her relationship with Karissa had been virtually non-existent at times, and tenuous at best, but I also knew from what she'd

written, that she wished she could have been closer with her sister. So, yeah, Hannah was most likely correct in saying that my mom would have been fine with our decision.

I smiled at Hannah, and nodded, going to the high cabinet, pulling a chair over to climb up, and then opening it, and handing down the dishes to her.

"They're going to need a bit of washing," Hannah said.

"I'll do it," I volunteered.

"Okay. Go ahead and get down the glasses, too."

As I passed down the fancy etched glasses to Hannah, I thought back. I couldn't ever remember using the glasses. The dishes, I did remember using a couple of times, after Hannah

joined our family, and we had company or something. But the glasses. Never.

"Brian'll notice the glasses though, for sure," I told her.

Hannah shrugged. "I feel like living dangerously," she said, and then winked at me.

I smiled back at her.

By the time I'd washed and dried the dishes, Hannah had already set all the glasses around the table, and laid silverware on the cloth napkins. As I set the plates around, she

was lighting a candle in the center of the table. By the time we were finished, we both stood back to admire the table.

"It looks beautiful," I said.

"It does look good." She looked around the kitchen, and said, "Well, everything's ready, whenever she arrives."

"Thank you," I said, and she looked at me.

"For what?"

"For doing all this," I said, waving a hand around the kitchen. "For trying to make it nice."

"You're welcome."

"She really can be nice," I said, wanting Hannah to understand. "When she's not drinking, well, she's interesting and really-" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Cultured," I said.

"I'm sure if you think she's nice, then she is." Hannah spoke matter-of-factly, and at that moment, I had never appreciated her more.

"I just hope the guys don't think this is like putting on airs or something," I said, with a glance toward the table.

Hannah laid a hand on my shoulder. "Listen to me," she said firmly. "There is nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing wrong in wanting to make a good impression. It does not

mean that we're pretending to be something that we're not, or anything like that. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'm," I said, and smiled at her.

We could hear everybody coming into the house, via the front door. We exchanged glances, and in silent agreement, went to head them off at the pass.

"When's lunch?" Evan asked.

"As soon as our company gets here," Hannah said.

There was a collective groan from almost everybody except for Crane and Adam. Comments and complaints about how hungry they were.

"You can survive a few more minutes," Hannah said, and went to sit down on the couch, patting the spot beside her. "Come sit by me, cowboy," she told Adam.

Clare came down the stairs then, seeming subdued. It looked as though she'd been crying.

"I'm sorry I didn't help with lunch," she said to Hannah.

"You needed the rest," Hannah told her. "It's fine."

Brian looked as though he was startled. "You were sleeping?" he asked her. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I wasn't sleeping," Clare told him, avoiding the hand he put out to her. "And I'm feeling fine."

Good grief, I thought. You needed a score card to keep up with all the moods going on around here. Myself included.

7

We were all mostly sitting around the living room, talking or reading the Sunday paper, when we heard a car pulling up. I'd been quiet while waiting. I hoped that Karissa hadn't

been drinking. I hoped she wouldn't be condescending to my family. And as far as my family went, well I hoped that they would all act like gentlemen. Though that was

probably asking too much.

7