Once back at Lancer, Johnny went off to join the men with ranch work. Charlie took the bottle from her earlier root beer

up to her bedroom, and set it on her dresser. Planning to fill it with wildflowers, she put on her faded overalls and old boots,

and went downstairs to the kitchen.

When Maria asked Charlie about the auction, Charlie spoke animatedly, talking a mile a minute, while

Maria smiled indulgently.

"Donde esta, Murdoch?" (Where is Murdoch?)

"Con el senor Scott fuera." (With Senor Scott outside)

Charlie found that she enjoyed practicing conversing with Maria and Johnny in Spanish. She could only manage basic

words, but was able to follow more than what she could speak. She knew, for example, that the word 'fuera' meant outside,

so the rest of her phrase wasn't hard to decipher.

After she'd finished off a glass of cold apple cider, Charlie went outside, to look after the barn cats, and to feed Gurth

a couple of apples. She was in the pasture doing that when she saw Scott riding up with Cip. She waited, while they

rode up.

"Hey, there," Scott greeted her, pulling to a stop.

"Hi!" Charlie said.

Cip gave Charlie a smile, and a nod, and rode on.

"How was the auction?" Scott asked her.

Charlie rested her hand on Scott's boot. "It was interesting. There were so many horses!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Scott held down a hand. "Want a ride up to the house?"

Charlie eagerly reached up for his hand, and Scott swung her up, and behind him.

Charlie chattered on about the auction, and trying root beer.

"Did you like it?" Scott asked her.

Charlie wrinkled her nose, and leaned to the left to see his face. "Not at first, I didn't. But, after I got used to the

taste, I liked it. Have you tried it?"

"No," Scott said, sounding amused. "I haven't."

"You have to, then," Charlie said adamantly.

"Well, maybe I will, then."

"I saw Lucy, too," Charlie shared.

"That's good."

"Johnny said I could go to her house, so I did."

"I'm glad you're becoming good friends with her," Scott said.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, and then, nearly to the corral again, Charlie asked, "Do you know a man in town

called Wolfie?"

"Wolfie? No, I'm fairly certain that I don't. Who's that?"

"Maybe it's just plain Wolf, not Wolfie."

Scott shook his head. "I don't think I've heard of anybody named Wolf, either."

"He lives outside of town, in a little shack. And he dresses all raggedy."

"How did you hear about him?" Scott asked her, pulling up, and lowering her the ground, and then dismounting himself.

"Lucy told me about him yesterday, and then I saw him again today. She said how he lives outside of town. He took an old horse from the auction, when

nobody else would buy it."

"Hmm," Scott said, in reply.

"He has a glass eye!"

Scott gave Charlie an appraising glance. "Is that why you were asking about glass eyes yesterday?"

Charlie nodded.

When Scott began unsaddling, Charlie talked on. "Lucy said that he doesn't talk to anybody around town. She

made it seem as though he's mysterious."

"Mysterious, huh?"

"Uh huh. I guess he is still sort of mysterious," Charlie mused. "Not talking to people much, and living alone that way."

"Maybe he just likes his solitude," Scott pointed out.

Charlie considered that. While she was thinking it over, Scott changed the topic of the conversation.

"Two more days and then school begins," he said.

Charlie gave him a wry glance. "I guess," she said, with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

"Attitude can account for more than half of the battle to a situation," Scott said.

Without him saying anything further, Charlie knew that Scott meant for her to be more positive about school, and to

do her best.

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Teresa, however, knew just who Charlie was talking about. Helping to carry food platters to the table, Charlie asked

her, and Teresa nodded in response.

"That man? Yes, I know who you're talking about."

"You do?" Charlie asked, with renewed hope in the mystery.

"Oh, yes. When he comes into the mercantile, he doesn't speak to anyone. He just gets his supplies and goes as quickly

as he's able to."

As the two girls took their seats at the table, Johnny asked, "How have I not seen this fellow?"

"He's not around often," Teresa said.

"You know him, Murdoch?" Johnny asked, looking down the table to his father.

"I don't recall. If I have met him, I must not have been paying close attention," Murdoch answered.

The platter with roast beef was passed from hand to hand.

During the serving of the gravy, Charlie prattled on. "He has a glass eye! Scott says when they put that in, that

the doctor takes the real eye out to put the other one in. It's probably all squishy, don't you, think?" she asked the table

in general. "Sort of slippery with lots of blood-"

"Charlie," Murdoch began to caution.

Charlie looked up, laying the gravy spoon back against the bowl, turning towards Murdoch expectantly.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I think Murdoch means that's not the sort of conversation to have at the dinner table," Scott told her.

"Oh," Charlie said, looking a bit embarrassed. "Sorry."

"I don't mean to scold you, sweetheart," Murdoch said.

"He does have a glass eye," Teresa volunteered, passing the bowl of green beans to her right to Murdoch. "It's

difficult to tell if he's looking at you or not."

"That's what Lucy said, too," Charlie said, her embarrassment forgotten.

"He gives me the willies," Teresa said.

"Why?" Charlie asked her, pausing, with her fork halfway to her mouth.

"Because. He's just strange," Teresa said, vaguely. "The way he avoids people, and hurries away if he thinks he's

being looked at. And he needs a bath."

"Could be that the man just wants to be left alone," Scott said, repeating what he'd told Charlie earlier in the day,

about solitude.

"Just because a man's in need of a bath ain't a reason to shun him," Johnny told Teresa, his tone

reproachful.

"I didn't mean it like that," Teresa said, looking regretful.

"His house is just a little shack," Charlie threw in. "Maybe he doesn't have a bathtub."

That caught Scott's attention, and he looked across the table at Charlie. "Didn't you say Lucy told you he lives

outside of town?"

Charlie swallowed her bite of mashed potatoes. "Yes."

"Did you walk out to it?" he asked then.

Charlie cast her glance to Johnny, for support. And then her eyes returned to Scott. "Lucy showed me where it was,"

she said reluctantly.

"How far out is it?" Scott asked then.

"Not far," Charlie said, her face feeling warm.

"Foolish to take a risk as that," Murdoch interjected. "Not knowing a man, to go to his home that way."

"I didn't, Murdoch!" Charlie said earnestly. "We stopped a good ways from it! We just looked."

"What was the point of that?" Scott asked.

Charlie looked at him, trying to judge how vast his irritation was.

"I was just curious, is all," she admitted.

"I already talked to the kid about it," Johnny spoke up. "We have an understandin'. Isn't that so, pequeno?"

Charlie cast a grateful glance at Johnny. "Yes."

When she turned back, Scott was still surveying her, looking serious, but he said no more about it, and

the topic of conversation changed.

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