Well, not surprisingly, I didn't sleep very well that night at all. I woke up a couple of different times,

a dream disturbing my sleep. In one of the dreams, I was on a bicycle, and I was peddling as hard as I

could, but I couldn't catch up with whoever was on a bicycle in front of me. Weird.

The next morning at breakfast, Guthrie was heaping his plate full of scrambled eggs, his voice

joyful. "Last day before spring break!"

He began to stuff eggs into his mouth in large bites. "An entire week free from prison!" he proclaimed.

"Don't eat so fast, Guthrie," Hannah said, automatically.

"We'll have to find some extra chores around here to keep you busy," Crane told him.

"No need for that," Guthrie said. "I've got plenty of things planned to keep me busy."

"I'll bet you do," Crane said, with a grin.

"Fishin', fishin', and more fishin'," Guthrie added, and Evan and Crane both laughed.

Brian and Adam, on the other hand, neither one had anything much to say at all during breakfast. This fact was not lost

on me. I cast a glance in Adam's direction. He was pushing his plate away, and picking up his coffee cup. He looked my way, too,

and when our eyes met, he gave me a strained smile. I knew if he was giving me any sort of a smile at all, that Brian hadn't

shared my confession of the night before. Not yet, anyway.

Brian, on the other hand, scared me to death. I was shoving stuff into my backpack in the living room, and he put a hand on the back of my neck. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't especially gentle, either.

"Adam's got a meeting tonight," he said, when I looked up at him. "So let's have a little chat now."

"Now?" I said, horrified.

"Now's as good a time as any."

"But it's almost time to leave for school." I protested.

"Adam," Brian called thru to the kitchen, ignoring my protest.

"Bri-" I was still protesting.

I slammed my backpack onto the couch furiously. "Nothing like starting the day off with a new low," I muttered.

"Should have thought about that," Brian said, without sympathy.

As Adam came from the direction of the kitchen, with the ever-present cup of coffee in his hand, I wished I could

just cross my arms and blink myself away somewhere, like in the I Dream of Jeannie tv show.

I stepped aside the couch, so that it was between me and them, and leaned against it, fiddling with the edges of the blanket

that was laid across the back.

"What's up?" Adam asked, looking at Brian.

"Harlie has somethin' she wants to talk to you about," Brian said.

Adam turned to me. "What is it, sugar?"

I fiddled with the blanket nervously, and bit at my lower lip.

"Huh?" Adam prompted, when I didn't say anything.

Still I hesitated, and Brian spoke up, to say curtly, "Harlie."

"I talked to Karissa," I managed.

Adam's facial expression went from puzzled to furious in nothing flat.

"She called here again?" he demanded. "That lady has more nerve than I've ever seen."

"Harlie called her," Brian said.

Adam turned towards me. "No way," he said, sounding as though he didn't believe Brian.

Even at that horrible moment, I realized that Adam had been willing to give me the benefit of the

doubt, and to blame Karissa, instead of me.

"I couldn't take it anymore!" I burst out. "She just does whatever she wants! I couldn't stand

seeing you guys hurt anymore!"

"What are you talkin' about?" Adam demanded furiously.

I hesitated, looking at Brian, and he said, "Apparently, Harlie was eavesdropping the other night, when

you and I were talkin' on the porch."

Adam still looked as though he was confused, and I plunged on. "I thought if I could talk to her-that

I could convince her to stop everything."

Adam's jaw was set in a tight line, but when he spoke, his voice was quiet. Not a good sort of

quiet. "You called her?" he reiterated.

I nodded, and Brian spoke up again. "Tell him, Harlie."

"Tell me what, dammit," Adam swore.

"I met her," I said, pulling a thread from the blanket I was messing with. "I called, and left a message

for her to meet me!"

"When was this?" Adam asked, in that same ominously quiet tone.

"Wednesday afternoon."

I saw it on his face, when the pieces began to fit together. "So all of that, about going to the

library, and doing extra homework, all of that was just a bunch of bullshit? Is that right?" he demanded.

I straightened to my full height, and tried to answer him clearly, with confidence.

"Yes."

"And you got her convinced to let it all go, I'll bet," Adam said, sarcastically. "Just drop everything."

When I didn't answer, he raised his voice. A lot. "Is that right, Harlie?"

"No," I admitted.

His raised voice was drawing people from the kitchen. Hannah came in, a dishtowel in her hands,

looking worried, with Guthrie not far behind her.

"Guthrie, go on out. Harlie'll be out in a few minutes," Adam ordered.

Guthrie paused, looking worried. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Guthrie!" Adam said harshly. "Get outside."

Guthrie stared at Adam, at first in shock, and then in anger. "Man, Adam," he said.

Hannah reached out to rub Guthrie's shoulder, but he pulled away, muttering, "No," and grabbed his backpack

off of the coffee table, going outside, and slamming the door. Hard.

I watched that horrible scene take place in front of my eyes, wincing. Just when I thought things

couldn't get any worse, they did.

"Don't yell at Guthrie," someone said. Wait. It was me.

"You'd best be worryin' about saving your own hide," Adam threatened. I felt myself wilting under

that look. Still, I felt compelled to say, "It's not Guthrie's fault. It's mine."

"You're right," Adam said, and now his voice was that horrible quiet again. He set his coffee cup on the

table with enough force that coffee sloshed out, and onto the table. He jammed his hands in

his pockets. "The one thing I asked of you, in this whole mess, was not to contact her. Not to see her. To

just let Brian and I take care of things."

I bit at my lip, feeling tears threatening. "Adam-" I began.

Adam's voice rose louder, over mine. "The one thing I told you not to do. That's the thing you do."

"I didn't want you guys hurt anymore!" I said, and my voice was raised, too.

"I don't care what your reasons were," he roared. He took a step towards me, and it was

so frightening, that I took a step back without thinking about how it would look.

"Harlie knows she did the wrong thing," Brian spoke up. I wished I could tell him to just save his

breath. His help was too little, too late.

Still it was better than nothing. "I do know that, Adam," I said.

Adam heaved a loud sigh, and ran his hand over his face.

"Go to school," he said then, quietly.

I hesitated, looking at him, not sure if I'd heard him correctly.

"Did you hear me?" he hollered again. "I said, 'go to school'!"

I grabbed my backpack from the couch and ran. Out the door, and down the front steps. All

the way to Guthrie's truck. Guthrie was already in the truck, and the motor was running. I got in, and slammed

my door.

We were all the way down the driveway, and up the road a couple of miles before I took a look

at Guthrie. His mouth was set in a tight line. I couldn't remember seeing him look so angry in a long time.

"I'm sorry Adam yelled at you," I said.

"Don't worry about it," Guthrie said, in a clipped tone.

"He was wrong to do that," I said.

"I don't wanna talk about it, Har," Guthrie said.

I subsided into a miserable silence, staring out my window. The radio was on, and the time was announced. 7:45 a.m. and my

day was ruined.

7

The only good thing that happened that day was when Mr. Fornelli handed back tests, and I saw the A at the top.

"Great job, Harlie," he said, as he laid it on my desk.

My first thought, I'll admit it, was that maybe I'd done something to make at least one of my brothers happy. Yeah, my attitude

was definitely scraping the bottom of the barrel.

When school let out, the school erupted with jubilant teenagers, happy to see the last of school for a week.

Guthrie had regained some of his customary good-nature, although he was still somewhat quiet, as we drove home.

When we passed the Dari Kurl, it was jammed with kids, honking their car horns, and yelling.

"Wanna stop?" Guthrie offered.

I shook my head. "Not unless you do."

"Naw. I'm gonna do chores, and then pack up some food, and go up camping."

"It'll be cold," I offered, and Guthrie shrugged.

"Doesn't matter," he said.

After a few minutes of silence went by, Guthrie asked, "So you went to see her, huh?"

"I had to try," I said shortly, knowing he meant Karissa.

"I guess."

Then he changed the subject yet again.

"House'll be empty Sunday night," he said, and I looked at him questioningly.

"Hannah's goin' with Adam to some Cattlemen's meeting and they're gonna spend the night in Stockton. And Crane's going

with his new lady somewhere. To meet her parents, I think."

"Wow. You know a lot," I said, and Guthrie shrugged.

"Are they taking Isaac?" I asked. "Or maybe Clare and Brian are going to watch him."

"I think they're taking him."

"The house really will be quiet," I agreed. Then, in an attempt at weak humor, I said, "Especially after they kill me." But I

didn't find it funny. I felt a tremor of fear shoot thru me.

"Adam was sure mad," Guthrie acknowledged.

"Yeah," I agreed glumly.

"Catch him alone, and try talkin' to him about it," Guthrie said. "He's had all day to cool off."

"Or to get even madder," I countered.

"Fifty-fifty," Guthrie said.

7

Once at home, as Guthrie and I went inside, and tossed our backpacks into chairs in the living room, there were

bags and suitcases sitting here and there.

Hannah came down the stairs, carrying a pair of boots and a sweater in her arms.

"Hey, you two," she greeted us, sounding like her usual self. She paused beside us. "There's some apple cake in the

kitchen," she said, mostly to Guthrie, and he nodded.

"Did your day go better than it started?" she asked. Guthrie looked embarrassed, and I felt my own face turn warm.

"Yes'm," Guthrie said. "I'm sorry for gettin' short with you this morning," he told her.

Hannah rubbed his shoulder. "It's alright. I think we've all had better mornings." She turned to me. "How about you?"

"It was an okay day," I said.

"The lawyer called today, and I guess the meeting that was planned for tomorrow morning got cancelled," Hannah told me.

"Karissa cancelled it?" I asked, and Hannah nodded.

"From what I understand."

"She's a flake," I said.

Hannah looked concerned, but she didn't answer that.

"Can I have some of the cake to pack up?" Guthrie asked her. "I'm going camping."

"You can. There's some cookies, too. And you can use some of that leftover ham."

"Thanks, Hannah," Guthrie said, and ambled upstairs, to change his clothes.

Hannah and I stood there, in the center of the living room, neither one of us saying anything. I felt as though she wanted

to say something, but hadn't.

"Where's Adam?" I asked her.

"He's upstairs, getting cleaned up for his meeting tonight." She hesitated. "It's probably an okay time to talk to him, if you wanted

to."

"I don't want to," I said.

"It's better to do it sooner than later," she advised.

"I don't want to do it at all," I said, feeling stubborn.

Hannah was looking at me, all sad-eyed, and I snapped a little. "I was just trying to do something for him, and for Brian. They

could have been more understanding about it. Adam acts like I did it just to start trouble."

Hannah was still quiet, and she was still looking at me with that same look of sadness, and also, I felt, with a bit of

judging in her eyes.

"You agree with Adam," I sighed. "I can tell."

Hannah laid the boots and sweater on top of the suitcase sitting nearby. "It seems like you want to argue, Harlie. And I'm not

going to do that." She sighed. "If you change your mind, and want to talk, just let me know."

I felt bad, then, for being so rude to Hannah, but I was still feeling stubborn, too. She would be on Adam's side, no doubt.

Still, before we ended the conversation, there was something I wanted to know.

"What's Adam thinking?" I asked her. "About me, I mean?"

"He hasn't said too much about it," Hannah said. "It's been busy around here today, and he hasn't really talked to me

about it."

"Oh," I said. It would have been helpful to at least know what Adam was thinking, about punishment for doing what he'd

told me not to, and for lying to him and to Brian.

"I still think you should try talking to him," Hannah said, and then she went back thru towards the kitchen. I took out my biology test,

and laid it on Crane's desk, where I knew he would see it.

I went up to change to my old, torn jeans, making sure I didn't see Adam anywhere in the hallway.

In my room I changed, and then was in the middle of brushing my hair, and rebraiding it, when I heard yelling in the

hallway. I opened the door to find Evan standing there. "Hey," he greeted me. "Can you help me? The pigs are out."

"Oh. Okay," I said, picking up my boots to carry.

At the top of the stairs, Adam called, "What's goin' on?" and Evan and I turned to see him standing at the other end of the

hallway. He was buttoning up a dress shirt.

"Pigs are out," Evan said.

"Where's Brian?" Adam asked. "Or Guthrie?"

"I don't know. I can't find anybody," Evan said. "It's cool. Harlie's gonna help."

"Okay," Adam said, and Evan and I went on down the stairs. I was glad I'd been far enough away so that I couldn't see

Adam's facial expression, or see the look in his eyes.

Evan and I went to chase the pigs, eventually joined by Guthrie, and the three of us chased, and ran, and tried to corner

six big sows.

Once they were back into their pen, I bent over, my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

"Everything alright?" we heard Adam yelling, from where he was standing beside Hannah's car. Evan waved at him.

"Got 'em!" Evan called back, and Adam waved in return, getting in the car, and driving down the driveway.

After that, Guthrie got packed up to go camping, and took off. To his credit, he did ask me if I wanted to go with him.

"I might come up later, if you're not home tomorrow," I told him.

Guthrie said okay, and see you later, and took off. I had a niggling feeling as I watched him drive off. It seemed as though things weren't

right between Guthrie and me. I tried to think. What brother was I still in good graces with?

Daniel, maybe. And Ford. But they didn't really count, since they weren't even here, in the trenches, at this particular moment.

"Thanks for the help," Evan said, as he passed by me, and I gave him a half-smile.

Evan would be it. The one and only brother here who wasn't thinking I was a waste of good space.

7

Evan took off before supper to go out with Nancy, and Crane was gone, too. Clare was working a shift at the hospital, Guthrie was gone camping,

and so, with Adam added to the list of the absentee McFaddens, supper was sparse. Consisting of me, Hannah, and Brian. We were eating ham

sandwiches, with leftover potato salad. Hannah and I sat in our usual places, next to each other, but Brian moved to sit across the table from me,

in Crane's place, so that the three of us were closer together.

I was quiet, letting Brian and Hannah talk. I couldn't be absolutely sure, but I felt a tenseness at the table. Maybe it was just my imagination,

working overtime. Although Hannah and I's conversation earlier hadn't been all that promising.

We were finishing up supper, when we could hear Isaac starting to cry upstairs.

"Little man's awake," Hannah said, and got up, going up the back stairs.

Left at the table, alone with Brian, I risked a look across at him.

"Looks like you and I are it for dishwashing duty tonight," he said.

"Looks like it," I agreed.

"You get the table cleared, and start the water, and I'll be back after I make a quick phone call," Brian said then, looking at me.

I nodded, and he added, "It'll give us a chance to talk a bit."

I gave him a sharp look. I couldn't help feeling his words sounded a little ominous. Talk, huh?

"Alright," I said, with a sigh.

I had the table cleared off, and was running water in the sink, pouring a generous amount of dish soap into the water. The bubbles were

rising up to fill the entire sink. I've always done that, ever since I was little. I feel like if you're going to wash dishes, then you should have plenty

of soap. Who wants to wash dishes with just mostly hot water?

Once Brian came back into the kitchen, he pulled a dish towel out of the drawer, and slung it over his shoulder, and then he

started rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dish strainer.

"Did you talk to Adam?" he asked me.

"Not since this morning."

"Why not?" he asked me, taking the towel from his shoulder, and beginning to dry cups and glasses.

"Because he's so mad. And I don't want to talk to him," I said honestly.

"You need to make things right, Harlie."

"Will that keep me from being in trouble? Will I be out of the doghouse with you guys if I try talking?"

"Whoo whee," Brian said. "Miss Sassy Pants."

I looked up at him. "If I say that I know I made a mistake, that I shouldn't have called her, that I was wrong to

lie, will that fix everything?"

"Well, it's a start," Brian said.

I looked back down at the sink of dishes, tears filling my eyes.

"I'm tired of all this," I said softly. "It's just got me all worn down."

When Brian was quiet, I mumbled, "That's why I told you in the first place, last night. I wanted to be honest, and make it

right. And I thought you understood things. And then this morning happened, and it just got more horrible."

"So basically, you feel like I threw you under the bus this morning, is that what you're sayin'?" he asked me.

I shrugged, not answering. I wasn't going to incriminate myself any further. Let Brian take it any way that he wanted to.

"Hmm," he said then.

We finished the dishes in silence. And this wasn't one of those good silences.

I was finishing wiping the counters, and Brian started a pot of coffee.

"Am I grounded for the whole spring break?" I asked, without looking in his direction.

"Aren't you on restriction already? For grades?" he asked.

"My biology grade is way up. So I don't mean that. I mean for Wednesday night."

"I'd say it's a safe bet that you're grounded for that, yeah."

"Can I go riding?" I asked, still not looking his way.

I heard Brian sigh. Then he said, "If you're done, let's you and me go sit on the porch for awhile."

"Do we have to?" I asked. "I'd rather just have my punishment and be done with it."

"Alright. But I thought we could talk awhile, anyway."

"I'm really not up for another lecture, Brian," I said, still feeling my hurt feelings from the morning, when he'd just pushed

me into the discussion with Adam, and then left me to fend for myself. "I just wanted to know if I can ride. That's all."

There was a long, momentary silence. "Let's say no riding for half of the break. After that, you can, as long you let somebody know

where you're going," he said.

"Okay," I said, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on the counter.

"You were in the wrong," he went on. "You're gonna have consequences."

I nodded, without answering, still avoiding his eye.

"Talkin' to you is like trying to hug a cactus," he said, sounding grim. "You're the one who lied to us, and yet I come

out of this feelin' like the bad guy somehow."

"Sorry," I said, really softly, not so certain that I meant it.

"Uh huh," he said, and I knew that he knew that I didn't mean it.

He folded the dishtowel and laid it beside the sink. "Let's agree to stall this conversation for now. We'll pick it up again later,

when Adam and I have a chance to talk."

When I didn't answer, he said, sounding irritable, "Got it?"

"Got it," I mumbled in reply.

7