At home, while we were parking, family appeared out of the barn, and the house, greeting Ford with welcoming hugs, and back-slapping, and

I was welcomed home, too.

Crane pulled off his work gloves and squeezed me until I was breathless.

Guthrie picked me up and spun me around until Hannah protested.

"Guthrie, stop, and put her down," she ordered.

Adam put a hand on the center of Hannah's back. "Harlie's fine. It's not going to hurt her if Guthrie throws her around a little bit."

"Well, alright then!" Guthrie said, sounding gleeful, and promptly tossed me at Ford, who nearly dropped me.

I went for my horseback ride, and though Hannah did object, at first, her protests weren't really all that loud. I guess she knew that I needed to

go. I went towards the barn, under strict instructions to be back before lunchtime.

When I got out to the corral, it was to find Evan there, saddling old Charlie.

"The old fella's been acting as though he's feelin' down," Evan said, continuing to tighten the cinch. "I figured he was missing you."

I'd planned to ride Petra, so that I could ride hard, and fast, and feel the wind in my hair. But I recognized Evan's actions of saddling Charlie for me

for what they really were. A reaching out of his. Feeling, I knew, sorry that he'd been short-tempered with me about the hot water the night before. Worried

about my trip to the hospital.

"Thanks for saddling him up," I said, coming close to rest my cheek on Charlie's flank.

"It's alright."

Evan finished the cinch and laid the stirrup back over in its place.

He turned to face me. "You feelin' better?" he asked.

"A lot better."

"That's good." He hesitated for a moment. "Want me to come with you?"

I shook my head, hoping he would understand. Evan's not always as attuned as Ford or Crane.

"I kind of want to ride by myself," I said.

"Ok. Sure," he said, nodding. "See ya later."

I rode at a docile pace until I was out of sight of the house. At that point, I could feel Charlie's desire to run. He's old, but he still has a lot of young

rodeo horse in him. Doc G always used to say that every once in awhile, old Charlie could run as though he was barely out of his colt stage.

I leaned down over his neck. "Are you sure, boy?"

Charlie tossed his head in reply, and I laughed. "Okay," I said, and gave him his freedom to run the fields in fast style.

7

The rest of the weekend passed quietly. I did my homework, and I read. And I ate. I ate a lot. It seemed as though every time I looked up,

somebody was bringing me something more to eat.

I stayed home from church on Sunday, although I wouldn't have minded going. Crane stayed home, too, and while he worked on paperwork

at his desk, I sat on the couch, reading the Sunday newspaper. Every once in awhile, I would ask Crane questions about something in there, or

read to him from an article.

When the telephone rang, I told Crane I'd answer it, and when I said 'hello', it was Daniel's voice who responded.

"Hullo, squirt!"

"Hello, Daniel!"

"I hear you're up to your usual tricks. Causing everybody's hair to turn gray with worry."

"You've gotten your information from an unreliable source," I said smartly. "I'm being my usual uncomplicated, charming self, only bringing joy

to those around me."

"Shouldn't be tellin' lies on a Sunday, brat," Daniel said, laughing.

He seemed to turn serious then. "You're okay, though, Crane says. Your level or whatever it is, was off. Right?"

"Right. I'm fine. Let's talk about something else. Have you met Glen Campbell yet?"

"No," he laughed again. "I'm still working on that," he said.

We talked for awhile, and then Daniel said he needed to go. I was reluctant to let him off the telephone.

"Crane's here. Do you want to talk to him?" I asked.

"That's okay. I talked to him last night. He's the one who told me about your little hospital adventure. I'll call back later in the week

sometime to talk to everybody."

"Okay." I hesitated. "Do you know how long it's been since you were home?"

"I know. I've just been crazy busy lately."

"Hannah says she's practically forgotten what you look like," I added.

"Ouch. Way to pour on the guilt, squirt."

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to do that. We just all miss you."

"I miss everybody, too," Daniel said, sounding regretful.

I could hear loud voices in the background. "Are you at work?" I asked him.

"Uh huh. Rehearsing."

"We have to go see a lawyer tomorrow," I said.

"I know. Crane told me that, too."

I was silent and Daniel said, "I know everybody's probably tellin' you the same thing. Not to worry. But it's true, you know? It will

all blow over."

"I don't know, Daniel. I'm not so sure about that," I said, lowering my voice a little.

"What? I can't hear you."

"Never mind," I told him.

"Nothing's going to come from it. That's a fact."

"How do you know that?" I asked him.

"Because. Rule number 27 in the O.B.H.B."

"Uh huh. And what does the Older Brother's Hand Book have to say?" I asked.

"Rule number 27," Daniel began. "States absolutely, positively, that once being saddled with the constant worry, and occasional joy of

a baby sister, that said baby sister will never be allowed to leave the circle of protection of the Brotherhood."

"That's a mouthful," I said, and I couldn't help smiling at the outlandish rules he came up with from that imaginary book of his.

"And the truth," Daniel insisted.

"You're so crazy," I told him.

"At least I got you to smile. Right?" he asked.

"Yeah. You did."

"I gotta go. I love you, squirt."

"I love you, too," I told him.

7

The next morning, Hannah told me I could stay home from school.

"Another day of rest won't hurt anything," she insisted.

"I'm fine, Hannah," I told her.

"I don't know," she said, looking doubtful.

I looked at Adam for support, and he intervened. "If she feels up to it, then it's her decision," he told Hannah.

"Alright," Hannah said, with a sigh. I thought privately that it seemed as though since Hannah had Isaac, she was now a chronic worrier. Way more than

she used to be. Adam's always telling Guthrie and I to be patient with her about it.

I was shoving stuff into my backpack when Ford came into the living room.

"Want a ride to school?" he offered. "I'm getting ready to head back to college."

"Sure," I said, looking at Guthrie. "Okay, Guth?"

"Sure thing," Guthrie said. "I can listen to the radio station I want, for a change."

I stuck out my tongue at Guthrie playfully.

Once on the way to the high school, Ford brought up the painful subject that was worrying me.

"So the lawyer appointment is this afternoon, right? Adam's picking you up at school?"

"Uh huh."

"I'll be thinking of you. And I'll say a prayer," Ford said.

"Thanks."

Into the upcoming silence, I said, "I'm not gonna go, Ford."

"What?" he asked, sounding confused. "You have to go today."

"Not today. I mean, if they say I have to go live with her. I won't go."

Ford looked across the truck cab at me. "What do you mean?" He sounded alarmed.

"I mean I won't go," I repeated stoutly.

"I don't think that you're going to have to worry about that," Ford said. "But, let's say that it does become a possibility. How is it you think you're

going to solve it?"

I met Ford's gaze with a stony look of my own. I shrugged, not answering.

Before I knew what was happening, Ford had pulled over to the side of the road, put on his flasher lights, put the truck in park, and turned

in the seat to look at me, full-on.

"What are you doing?" I asked, although I knew very well what his intention was.

"Talking. We're gonna talk."

"I'll be late for school," I offered, half-heartedly.

"You won't be late. And if you are, I'll take the blame. What do you mean when you say all that? That you won't go?"

"I don't think it's right," I said, backtracking a bit. "I don't see why this even has to be a consideration. She has no right to file a

custody thing."

Ford waved a hand at me. "I agree with all that. I want to know what you mean when you say that you won't go?"

"Would you want to go?" I countered. "If you were my age, and this had happened to you, would you want to go?"

"Of course not. Now quit avoiding my question."

Ford, in his own quiet way, can be just as stubborn, just as forceful as any of my other brothers. At this moment he was looking intractable.

"I won't go with her. I'll run off, or something." I said, in a low voice.

Ford considered me for a long, long moment. "You don't mean that," he said.

"I do mean it."

"You're talking dumb."

"You be in this situation, and then let's see if you call me dumb," I said stubbornly.

"Where is it you think you'd go?" he asked, still sounding calm enough.

"I don't know. Somewhere."

"I hear Florida's nice this time of year," he said.

"Funny. Haha."

"I'm making jokes, because I know you can't be serious."

"Okay, Ford," I said, beginning to get irritated. "Keep on thinking that if it makes you feel better."

Well, that got his attention for sure. And it pricked his temper, too. Which is uncommon, because Ford's anger is slow to ignite.

"You mean it, then?" he asked me, with a frown.

I sighed. "I've thought about it. What I would do."

He was glaring at me a little, and I said, "Come on, Ford. Don't be mad."

"I'm trying not to be. But this is crazy. You need to talk to somebody about this. About how you're feeling."

"I am. I'm talking to you," I pointed out.

"I mean Adam. Or Brian. Or Crane. Crane's great to talk to about intense stuff-"

"I don't want to worry them," I pointed out. "They have enough worries."

"Harlie-"

"Besides, it would only upset them. They want me to stay calm, and not think anything is going to come of all this. They keep telling me not to

worry."

"Because they don't know what else to say, Harlie!"

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, each of us watching the passing cars zooming past us.

"I need to get to school," I prompted him.

He nodded, and put the truck in gear, and we drove on. At the high school, Ford pulled in amidst the high school drivers. A couple of guys

saw Ford driving past, and honked and hollered to him. He waved back, and then, when he stopped, I picked up my backpack.

"Thanks for the ride," I said.

Ford was looking at me, as though he wanted to say something. He looked scared, and worried. I felt bad for riling him up.

"Don't get shook up," I said. "I was just spouting off. I didn't really mean it."

I got out on my side of the truck, and came around to him. He'd gotten out, too, and was leaning against the door of the truck.

"Have a good week at school," I told him. I reached up to pat his cheek. "Bye, Fordie," I told him.

With a suddenness that caught my breath, Ford reached up and caught my hand. He held it so tightly that I couldn't have gotten loose even

if I'd wanted to.

"Don't do that," he said, sounding mad.

"Do what?"

"Act all fake, and casual. Like you didn't just tell me you were gonna run off."

"I told you I was just spouting off. That I didn't mean it."

I could tell that he wanted to believe me.

"For real?" he asked me.

"For real."

"Because you cant, you know. Run off. That wouldn't solve anything. It would cause nothing but problems. Do you know how scared and worried

the family would be?"

"Yes. I know." I had my eyes fastened on his chest,

Ford clutched my hand even harder. "Look at me, Har," he said.

I raised my eyes to his.

"Promise me. Or I'm gonna talk to Adam. Tell him how you're really feeling."

I was struck by a sense of panic. "Don't! Ford, please!"

"I don't want to, but-"

"I should be able to talk to you, and have it be private between us!" I was trying to make Ford feel guilty, and I knew I'd succeeded, because of the

look on his face.

"I want you to talk to me," he agreed, looking guilty.

"Then keep what I say private!"

"I will. But with something like this, if you're feeling so scared, or you're gonna do something dumb, then I don't think I should keep it to myself."

I took a deep breath. I had to calm Ford down. "I promise, Ford." I looked at him as entreatingly as I could, hoping to sway him.

"Okay," he said, still looking uncertain.

"Just have some faith," he added.

For a moment I was irritated. He was sounding just like all the rest of my brothers. More of the same.

'Don't worry'. 'Things will be fine'. 'It will all blow over'. 'Nothing's going to come of it'. 'Have faith'.

"I need to get to class before the tardy bell," I said.

"Okay." Ford released my hand.

We stood looking at each other, as kids swarmed around us, some of them calling out greetings to either Ford or I.

"I love you, goofy," he said quietly.

"I know. I love you, too."

"How about I call you tonight? To see how the lawyer's meeting went?" He snapped his fingers together in thought. "Wait. I've got a late class. I'll call

tomorrow night, though. For sure."

"Okay."

"Alright. Bye." He gave me a quick hug.

"Bye." I tried to smile.

I watched him drive away, out of the high school parking lot. He looked back as he pulled onto the highway, and waved. I waved back. He

still had that same look of confusion and worry on his face. I went inside the school, and headed to first hour, thinking that I'd committed one of the

worst sins in the world. Upsetting Ford.

7