After that, Scott went on his way, back to whatever work was needing his attention at the moment. Charlie returned to
cuddling the kittens again, but even stroking their soft fur didn't raise her spirits much.
She considered things as she sat there. Scott meant business, there was no doubt about that at all. Charlie felt
her stomach knot up at the thought of his expression and tone earlier. She hated it when Scott was upset with her
about something. It didn't happen often, at least. But, when it did, well, she just absolutely hated it!
For a bit, she pouted, feeling that Scott was being unreasonable. Why should he have to know who the boys were? If the situation
were left to her, Charlie imagined how she might get even with them. If she were in Stockton, then the way she would have
done it-well, it might be quite different than what she could do here. There, she could have done any number of sneaky pranks
on boys like this, and no body would have been the wiser for it. Or, at least nobody would have cared what she did.
Here, though, that was different indeed. There, there was only Katherine, who didn't give a hoot. Here, there were
at least five adults who would care, and concern themselves all about whatever she got up to.
The supper bell began to clang loudly across the yard, and Charlie got to her feet, dusting off her hands. She met
up with Johnny, as they reached the house near the same time.
"How goes it, pequeno?" he asked, with a bit of a grin at the corner of his mouth.
Charlie shrugged. "Not so good."
"How come?" he asked.
Charlie gave him a silent look, and Johnny surmised, "Scott, huh?"
Charlie nodded. "He says I have to tell him the names of the boys."
"Well, in this case, I'm not gonna be able to back you up, kiddo. I happen to agree with Scott."
Charlie sighed heavily. "Now the weekend's ruined."
"No, it's not. Doesn't have to be ruined. It's all in your attitude," Johnny told her. "You tell Scott what he wants to know, and that's
the end of it."
"Then he'll tell their father, though. Right?"
"Likely, yeah."
Charlie sighed again, dramatically, and Johnny put a hand at the back of her head, steering her into the house.
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Supper was catfish, prepared in Maria's special way, with noodles and an array of vegetables and fruit.
Charlie was mostly quiet during the meal. She was still thinking. And pouting.
"Maria made chocolate cake," Teresa announced.
"Any of those chocolate chip bars left?" Johnny asked.
"I'm sure she tucked some away for you," Teresa told him.
"How about that, pequeno?" Johnny asked. "You going to share your bars with me?"
"You can have the rest," Charlie said, in a subdued tone, and the adults at the table exchanged glances.
"I'll go get the cake," Teresa said, and got up to go to the kitchen.
Charlie was pushing her carrots around her plate with her fork, absently, as if she didn't even realize she was doing it.
Johnny gave her a nudge. "Finish that up, so you can have cake," he said, still trying to tease her out of her mood.
"I don't even want cake, I don't think," Charlie returned. "It doesn't sound good right now."
As Johnny would have said more, Scott intervened. "If you don't want cake, then you don't have to have any," he said to her.
Charlie looked up to meet his eyes across the table, surprised. He sounded so abrupt.
"If you're finished, you can take your plate to the kitchen," Scott said, then.
For a moment, Charlie held his gaze, and then she looked away, and stood up, taking her plate and
leaving the room.
"Whoo weee," Johnny said, with a whistle, after she'd gone.
"It's not like her to turn down dessert," Murdoch said.
"She's just in a mood," Scott said, as Teresa was returning, carrying a tray with chocolate cake on plates.
As Teresa was passing the plates of dessert around the table, Charlie appeared at the doorway again.
"Maria says to wait until later for my bath. She has to heat the water," she said. "May I go to my room, and read?"
Scott nodded at her. "Go on."
So, Charlie went. As she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she began to think about leaving so quickly.
She curled up on her window seat, and tried to read on 'Little Men'. The longer she sat there, the more she thought
about that chocolate cake. Maria's cake was the best. Moist. And Maria was generous with her frosting, too. She didn't scrimp
on it. Since it had been her own decision to forgo the cake, Charlie had only herself to blame. She began to regret
that decision, made out of her own stubbornness. She truly did love Maria's chocolate cake.
She thought about everybody, probably in the library by now, and talking. And Johnny, most likely on his second
piece of the cake.
Charlie gave up trying to read, and sat, looking out the window. The sun was turning orange.
There was a tap, a light one, on the half-open door. Charlie looked, and sat up very straight as Scott
came in. He had 'Black Beauty' tucked under one arm, a glass of milk in one hand, and a plate in the other hand. On the
plate there was a generous piece of chocolate cake.
Scott came over to the window seat, and set the milk and book on the desk, and then sat down beside Charlie.
He held out the plate of cake to her. "I thought you might be wishing for some cake by now," he said, quietly.
For a long moment, Charlie felt as though it was hard to swallow. There was such a lump in her throat. She took
the plate, and managed a very soft, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
And, just like that, Charlie felt suddenly sorry for being so stubborn. He'd brought her cake, even though she
hadn't been very nice.
"I'll tell you the names of the boys," Charlie offered, and Scott nodded.
"Alright," he said.
"Do you want me to tell you, before I eat the cake?" Charlie asked him then, and Scott had to hide his smile.
"No. You can go on and eat first."
"Okay," Charlie said, and took her first bite.
"While you eat, I'm going to talk to you, though, alright?"
Charlie nodded, feeling a bit of trepidation at his words.
"I want you to understand something. About why I want to know their names. This was a fairly serious issue, and
it needs adults to tend to it. It's not your place, or your responsibility to take care of it. If they were throwing rocks, then
that's probably what gave your horse his cut. It could have been a lot worse than it is."
Charlie ate her cake, watching Scott while she did so.
"He might not have intended to injure Gurth. But, still, it's something that should be addressed. If it's not, then
what's to say it wouldn't happen again? And, this situation happened because they were throwing rocks at
an older man. And, you took offense at that? You didn't like it, right?" he asked.
"Right," Charlie said.
"And they need to be held accountable for that. It's wrong, and it was cruel."
Charlie nodded again. For a few minutes there was quiet in the room, as she finished her cake.
"Finished?" he asked, and Charlie handed off the now-empty plate to him, and he set it to his right on the desk.
When he turned back towards her, his expression was grave. "Ready to tell me now?" he asked.
Charlie bit at her lower lip, and said, "It's the boys from church. The ones with the red hair. Monte. And John."
Scott looked considering. "Bart Johnson's boys," he said.
"Are you going to tell him? Mr. Johnson?" Charlie asked, looking anxious. She already knew the answer.
"I am."
Charlie sighed, not even realizing that she did so.
There was a tap at the door, and Teresa popped her head in. "The water's heated for your bath, Charlie."
"Thanks, Teresa," Scott said, and Teresa nodded, and was gone again.
"Go on and have your bath," Scott said. "I'll come back up when you're finished, and we'll do our reading. Alright?"
Charlie nodded, and stood up. She hesitated, and turned back to Scott. She was silent, just looking at him out
of those big brown eyes.
Understanding, Scott reached out and tugged her a bit closer. "I know it's hard. Letting go of doing things your own way. Having
to conform to more rules. And it's not fun, thinking of those boys and what they might say to you when their father finds out."
He reached out and brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. "All I can say to you to is, it's going to take trust on your part.
Faith in me, that I know what I'm doing, and that I can take care of you. Do you trust me, Charlie?"
Tears appeared in her eyes. "I trust you, Scott. More than anybody!" She flung her arms around his neck, and
he wrapped her in a hug.
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