After we'd all finished supper, it was well after five. I helped clear the table, but Guthrie and Crane had dishwashing duty.

Evan wasted no time in departing, though I didn't know where he was going. No doubt off to meet up with Nancy. Hannah announced she was

going upstairs to give Isaac a bath.

Brian put a hand on my waist. "Come on, you," he said, and I sighed, following him into the living room.

He sank to the couch, sighing just like I had.

"You look tired," I offered.

"I am tired. We're all tired." He reached down to pull off one of his boots. "I have a question. Why are you being such a pain

in everybody's tailfeathers?"

I felt my face get all hot. "I didn't know I was," I said, my feelings hurt.

"Oh yeah, you did," Brian said, in disagreement, and then pulled off his other boot, letting it drop to the floor.

"I told him I was sorry."

"Aw, but your voice lacked a certain quality of sincerity," Brian said.

I knew that if he was joking like that, that he wasn't really mad. So I smiled at him a little.

"I'll take shorter showers," I offered. "And not call Evan names."

"Fantastic," Brian said. He sank back against the couch cushions, looking up at me. "Now sit down here a minute."

I looked at him skeptically, and he patted the spot beside him. "Right here," he clarified.

I sat down beside him, feeling reluctant. "I thought the lecture was over," I told him.

"No, the lecture is not over," Brian said, pulling me over next to him. his right arm wrapped around the top of my shoulders.

"It must not be a real one," I offered. "Hugging on me isn't usually the way you dole out a lecture."

Brian tapped my nose. "Don't be a smartass."

"How can I help it? I learned from the very best," I told him, enjoying our verbal back and forth.

"True," Brian allowed.

He was quiet for a few minutes, just sitting there, one arm around my shoulders, and with the other hand he wrapped a strand of my

hair around his fingers. Winding it, and then releasing it. Again and again. I was quiet, waiting. I knew he had something he wanted to say.

"You're not sleepin' lately," he said.

"No," I admitted.

"Adam and I feel that John's a good lawyer. He knows his stuff."

I felt my throat tighten at the mention of the subject.

"He'll get this whole thing straightened out," Brian said, sounding confident.

"If you say so."

"Are you doubting me?" Brian asked, tightening his hold, and digging his fingers in my ribs.

I twisted from him tickling me, laughing a little.

When he'd stopped, I turned serious again. "It's not you I doubt, Bri. I just know how Karissa is. She gets her way."

"She's not the one sitting behind the bench, wearing the black robe. She's not going to be able to control

a courtroom," Brian said, sounding definite.

I hadn't thought of it that way. "That's right, isn't it?" I asked him, feeling a little better.

"It's right."

"Okay," I said, leaning against him, and feeling myself relaxing a little.

"So where are you and young Kenny goin' tonight?" he asked.

"Not Kenny. A new boy asked me out."

"Yeah?" Brian asked, raising his eyebrow. "Who?"

"His name's Steven Yager. He's been here about a month."

"Yager, huh? His dad the one that bought the old Stanley ranch?" Brian asked.

"Yeah."

Brian looked thoughtful. "He a nice kid?"

"I think so," I said, and then added, "I don't think he's killed anyone this week, at least."

"Watch it," Brian said, and gave me another dig in the ribs.

After that scuffle, he said, "Well, where's he takin' you?"

"To the movies, he said."

"Hmm. Well, how about this? Maybe tonight you could go to Butch's. Have some pizza, and hang out there. I don't really like

the idea of you driving all over the county with a kid we don't know. If you like him, and he wants to take you out again, then he could come

over here, and we could look him over. And then we could talk about going further than Murphys with him."

"Okay. I'll ask him. And see what he says. He may not want go out with me if he has to follow all those rules," I said.

"Oh, I'm fairly certain that he'll go along with it," Brian said, with a smile.

7

Brian had been right about Steven. He didn't seem to mind the change in plans for the evening. He told me he'd be along soon to pick me up.

When he came, I answered the knock on the door, pulling on my jacket.

By this time, Adam was at home, too, and he said, "Tell him to come inside," to me, as I pulled the front door open.

I ushered Steven inside, and all three of them, Adam, Brian and Crane, too, shook his hand. Steven looked so nervous that I felt

sorry for him.

"Eleven o'clock curfew," Adam said, as we went down the steps.

Steven was shocked by that. I could tell, but he just nodded and said, "Alright."

We got into a little Volkswagon.

"This is my mom's car," Steven explained. "She said I could use it tonight."

"I've never ridden in a Volkswagon before," I told him.

As we drove toward Murphys, he said, "How many brothers do you have?"

"Seven."

"For real?" he asked, looking shocked.

"For real."

"I heard you had a big family, but I had no clue it was that big. Wow."

"It's pretty big, alright," I agreed.

"I can't imagine having that many siblings. I'm the only one in mine."

"The only kid?" I asked him, and as he nodded, I said, "Wow."

He smiled at me. "I guess that's as weird to you as you having seven brothers is to me."

"Yeah, I guess. Didn't you get lonely, when you were growing up?" I asked him.

"Sometimes I did. We've moved around a lot. My dad says we're going to stay put here. So I'm hoping to make some friends

that I can keep for awhile."

"That would be good. I think it would be hard to move around all the time. I've lived here all my life." As I said that, the thought of

the custody thing and all of that came back to the forefront of my mind. I didn't want to leave to go anywhere else. I tried to push the thought back again.

"Your dad's going to try ranching?" I asked him.

"Yeah. He met your brothers the other day. At least a couple of them. I don't know which ones."

"Murphys is a good place to visit and talk to everybody," I agreed.

"He talked to them over at our place, not in town," Steven said.

"Oh," I said, wondering what any of my brothers would have been doing over at a relatively new rancher's house. Brian hadn't mentioned

meeting Steven's dad.

"I guess my dad's going to buy a bunch of your cattle," Steven went on, and he kept on talking, not realizing that I was sitting

there, in surprise and shock.

"I think he said it was Crane," Steven went on, thoughtfully. "Yeah. And Adam, too. Those are the names he mentioned."

"How many cattle?" I asked, feeling strange inside. I hadn't heard any mealtime conversations about selling cattle. The last I'd known, the guys

were planning on keeping all of the cattle that we had, until after the summer calving, at least. That was so there'd be more profit when selling the

cows and the calves. There was only one reason that I could thing of to cause those plans to change. Lawyer bills.

"I don't know for sure how many," Steven said. "Quite a few, though, I think."

"Heifers?" I asked next. "Or bred cows?"

"I'm not sure." Steven gave me a glance across the tiny interior of the Volkswagon. "Are you okay, Harlie?"

"Um, yeah," I said. "I'm fine."

By now we were pulling into Murphys, and there were already a row of cars and trucks lined up in front of Butch's Place.

As we walked inside, there were lots of kids from school there. Guthrie was at a corner pool table, talking to some of his friends. He waved at us,

and I waved back.

We ordered pizza, but I only nibbled at mine. I was so thirsty. All I felt like doing was drinking. I had two large glasses of water.

I was lifting the glass to my lips once, when I realized I was shaking again. The "prickly" feeling was in my hands and my feet. Black spots

in front of my eyes.

Later, when I had to think about it, I had to give Steven credit. He noticed, and leaned forward towards me.

"What's wrong, Harlie?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"I think I need to go outside for some air," I told him, and he immediately got up, helping me thru the throng of kids, and outside. It was dark by now, and

even at that moment, I realized how full of stars that the sky was tonight.

"What's wrong?" Steven asked again. He sounded positively panicked.

I sat down on the top step of Butch's little porch. "I think my blood sugar level is off," I told him.

"What?" he asked, obviously bewildered.

I thought about telling him to grab me my nearly untouched pizza, but at that moment I didn't think that even eating something was going to

make me feel any better.

Time for reinforcements. McFadden style.

"Can you get Guthrie?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure," he said, and disappeared inside.

I leaned my head against the post, and waited, though I know that it was really only a couple of minutes before Guthrie came bursting out of the

building, followed by Trent.

Guthrie crouched down beside me. "What is it?" he asked me.

"I don't feel so hot, Guth," I said.

"Do you need to eat?" he asked.

"Maybe. I don't know-"

"Can you ask Butch if he has any crackers?" Guthrie asked, looking up at Steven. "Like peanut butter crackers? And some juice?"

"Yeah," Steven said, and he was gone again.

"You don't have to do that," I protested feebly. "I could just eat a slice of pizza or something."

Guthrie ignored my protest, and asked Trent to go inside and get a glass of water, and some paper towels.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself, rocking back and forth a little. Guthrie stood up, and I caught at the hem of his blue

jeans. "Don't leave, Guth," I protested.

"I'm not leavin'. I'm just gonna grab somethin' out of the truck."

He was back in just a second or two, and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. The blanket smelled like smoke, and I knew he and Kristin

must have taken it to the bonfire they'd gone to a couple of weekends before.

"He didn't have any crackers," Steven said, appearing behind us.

"It's okay," Guthrie said, and crouched down again, reaching into his shirt pocket to pull out a piece of hard candy. He unwrapped it, and handed it to me.

"Here," he said.

I took it, sucking on the sweet caramel.

When Trent came back out, he handed the glass of water and paper towels to Guthrie.

Guthrie folded the paper towels into a thicker square and dipped the edge in the water a couple of times. Then he held it out to me.

"You want I should do it, or can you?" he asked me.

"I can do it," I told him, and held the cold cloth to my forehead.

"I brought some juice," said another voice from behind us. Guthrie reached out to take the glass.

"Thanks, Butch," he said. And to me, "Drink."

I sipped at the orange juice. Butch, who, after years of eating his own pizzas is as round as he is tall, leaned over to peer at me

in the semi-darkness of the lights streaming from the building, puffing a little from the exertion.

"What can I do?" he asked. "You want me to call your home?"

"No!" I said, at exactly the same moment as Guthrie said, "Yeah."

"No, Guth!" I protested. "It'll just upset everybody-I'll be fine in a few minutes!"

Again, Guthrie ignored my protest. He just kept talking to Butch as though I hadn't said a word at all.

"Can you tell them that Harlie's not feelin' good, and that I'm takin' her over to the emergency room?" Guthrie asked Butch.

"I will do that," Butch said.

"Thanks," Guthrie said. He took the nearly empty glass of orange juice from me and handed it off to Butch.

"Let me know if you need somethin'," Trent was saying to Guthrie.

"I will. Thanks, buddy," Guthrie told him. He stood up, taking my arm to pull me up, too.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," I told Guthrie, as he steered me down the board sidewalk towards where his truck was parked.

Guthrie opened the passenger door, and waited as I climbed in. Just before he shut the door, I said, "Guthrie! Listen! I don't want to

go to the emergency room!"

"You don't have anything to say about it," Guthrie said, calmly enough. But beneath the calmness of his response, I could hear the

intractable steel of the inherited McFadden stubbornness.

I gave up protesting. Besides, I didn't feel well enough to argue with Guthrie. As we were pulling away from Butch's Place, I saw Steven still standing

there, out front, watching with a bewildered look as we drove away.

7