When the two boys only gave Charlie glares the next day at school, she began to worry less. Maybe they had gotten punished, after all. And,
maybe their father had told them not to say anything more to Charlie about the whole thing.
At lunch Charlie sat with her group of new friends outside. Lucy, of course, was among them. And Carolyn, Caro for short, and Rebecca. After
some talking, Charlie discovered that the boy whom she'd handed the keys off to at the jail that day, was Rebecca's brother.
His name was Jason , and Charlie thought he was ever so nice. Rebecca agreed that he wasn't too bad, for a brother. An afternoon of fishing was
planned for that day, and several of the kids were going, including and Rebecca.
Charlie wished she could go. It seemed as though these were the sort of kids that Scott and Teresa and the rest of the family wanted her
to get acquainted with. When Rebecca invited her, Charlie hated to refuse.
"I couldn't," Charlie said, in honesty. "Not without letting somebody at home know where I'd be. They'd worry if I wasn't home at the
usual time."
"Aw, well, sure. I understand. My Ma gets worried 'bout me, too," Rebecca said.
"Maybe I can go the next time," Charlie said, hopefully.
"Well, we can go again tomorrow," Rebecca said. "Can't we?" she called to her brother, who was standing with some of the other
boys.
Jason pushed the hat he was wearing back a bit. "Sure," he agreed, easily.
The rest of the afternoon, Charlie was so excited, she had to really concentrate to hear any of the lessons.
She rode home atop Gurth, still feeling happy. Things really were happening to the good here. She had a wonderful home at Lancer, and
lots of folks that loved and cared for her. And now she was making friends. Real friends. Not like the kids in Stockton who she'd
never felt close to.
These kids were just regular kids. They did regular kid things, like go fishing. They weren't trying to snitch things from the
stores, or bust up shop windows.
Once at home, she stopped in front of the corral, sliding down from Gurth. She caught sight of Cip in the pasture, and returned the
wave he sent to her. She'd loosened the cinch, and was intent on lowering the saddle, when Jelly appeared.
"'Bout time you was gettin' home," he grumbled in greeting.
Charlie had come to realize that Jelly was just naturally gruff. He didn't mean anything by it. And, she found that she quite liked
the older man. Sometimes she would sit, and he would tell her stories.
"Hullo, Jelly," Charlie said.
"Hullo yourself. Here. Let me do that," he said, and took the saddle from her, toting it towards the tack shed.
"Where's Scott? Do you know?" she asked.
"Haven't seen him since this mornin'. Don't think he'll be back till suppertime."
"Oh," Charlie said, disappointed. She wanted so badly to talk to Scott about going the next afternoon, with the other kids.
She turned Gurth out into the pasture with the other horses, and went inside. A glass of milk and a plate of three cookies
sat on the scarred wooden table in the kitchen. Maria turned from where she was kneading a loaf of bread.
"Tenga su merienda," Maria said, gesturing to the table.
"Si," Charlie said, and then gestured at her dress. "I'll go and change first."
Maria nodded in approval, and Charlie went up the stairs to her bedroom. She changed quickly, and left her dress and stockings on the floor,
in a muddled pile. Dressed again in denim overalls and her feet bare, Charlie went back down.
She sat at the table, drinking her milk and eating her cookies. And talking all the while to Maria about school, and her
new friends. And about the invitation to go fishing the next afternoon.
"Do you think Scott will let me go?" Charlie asked.
"Deles pregutar y ver," Maria answered. (You must ask, and see)
When she was finished eating, Charlie put her plate in the sink, and went outside. She did her chores, feeding the chickens, and then
went to check on the barn kittens.
She kept a good watch, but none of the Lancer menfolk arrived home anytime near before supper. Teresa did, however, driving up
in the buggy, and calling out to Charlie to come and help her carry her packages.
"I was so worried I was going to be late getting home," she said, stacking Charlie's arms full of boxes. "But,, it looks like I still made it
in time. Murdoch's not back, is he?"
"No. I haven't seen him," Charlie said.
"Good," Teresa said, picking up her own armload of packages.
"What is all this?" Charlie asked, following behind as Teresa headed towards the house.
"Just a few things I needed from the store," Teresa said, sounding breezy.
"A few things?" Charlie echoed, doubtfully.
"Never mind that. I got you something, too," Teresa said.
"What?"
"You'll see," Teresa said, managing to make it sound mysterious.
Once at the top of the stairs, Teresa made her way to her own bedroom, where she deposited the packages onto her bed.
Charlie did the same, unceremoniously dumping those she'd been carrying onto the top of the others.
"Do you want to see what I got you?" Teresa asked.
"I guess," Charlie said. She had the definite impression that Teresa had gotten her something along the lines of clothing.
Teresa sifted thru the boxes on the bed, and pulled two of them out. "Here," she said.
Charlie lifted the top off the first box, and found a brush and comb set. They were made of tortoiseshell, and they were truly
beautiful.
"They're pretty," Charlie said, surprised a bit, and glad that it was something she could be truly happy about receiving.
"I thought it was time you had a new hairbrush," Teresa said. "Do you like them?"
"Yes. I really do. Thank you, Teresa."
"Now, open this one," Teresa said, handing Charlie the second package.
Charlie took it, gauging the weight of it. Maybe it was that new book she'd been wanting. 'Little Women'. She'd been pointing it out to
Murdoch or Teresa or Scott, or whomever she happened to be in the mercantile with.
It didn't feel as though it was heavy enough to contain a book. Still, a person could always hope, couldn't they?
Alas, it wasn't a book at all. Charlie took in the contents of the box, feeling utterly, horribly disappointed.
"What do you think?" Teresa prompted, tapping the box.
"I was hoping it was a book," Charlie said.
"Oh, silly," Teresa said, not sounding offended. As yet.
Charlie set the box back on the bed.
"Take it out and look at it," Teresa said, and when Charlie just stood there, not doing anything, Teresa reached down and picked up
the dress. The extremely frilly dress. Complete with an overage of lace and ruffles, and what looked like a million buttons down the back. And, it
was in the most awful shade of red.
Teresa shook the dress out, and held it up. "Well?" she asked again. "I know it's a little more frilly than you generally like, but-"
"A little more?" Charlie asked, accentuating the word 'little'.
"Alright. A lot more," Teresa conceded. "But, it's pretty, don't you think?"
"No."
"What?" Teresa asked, looking startled.
"I said, no, it's not pretty. It's the ugliest dress I've ever seen."
Now, Teresa was staring at her, her eyes wide in surprise. "It's a beautiful color," she insisted.
"It's too red."
"Too red? What in the world does that mean?" Teresa asked,
"I'd look like a giant tomato."
"You would not."
"I would," Charlie insisted stubbornly. "I won't wear it."
Teresa put the dress back into the box, her cheeks flushed. "I'll return it," she said shortly.
"I didn't ask you to buy it," Charlie said. She hated that look on Teresa's face. As if she were bitterly disappointed.
"No, you sure didn't," Teresa said.
"So you shouldn't get angry at me just because I don't like it-" Charlie began.
Teresa whirled on Charlie. "For heaven's sake, Charlie, I'm not upset with you because you don't like it. I'm upset with you because you're
being incredibly rude."
"You bought me the brush and comb set because you knew I'd like them!" Charlie burst out. "And then, you thought you could spring
that tomato costume on me!"
"That's enough!" Teresa snapped.
"What's the trouble?" came a male voice from the open doorway. And, there stood Murdoch.
Teresa looked disconcerted, and Charlie was astute enough to know that Teresa would rather Murdoch not have heard
the quarrel. She wasn't very pleased about it herself. She knew Teresa didn't want to disappoint Murdoch, and neither did she.
"It's-" Teresa hesitated. "It's of no great importance, Murdoch."
Charlie found that she'd been holding her breath, waiting to hear what Teresa told him. One look at the older man, and she saw
that Murdoch was not believing any of Teresa's statement.
"It seemed as though it was of importance," he said, mildly.
"No," Teresa said, and went to wrap her arms around Murdoch. "I'd better get downstairs and help Maria get
supper on the table. Excuse me."
And, then, she was gone.
Which left Charlie there, standing in Teresa's bedroom, with the results of Teresa's shopping excursion spread all about the room.
She tried to meet Murdoch's eye, but found she was focusing on his right shoulder instead.
"What's this about a tomato costume?" Murdoch asked.
Charlie swept her eyes up to his, and then returned her gaze to his shoulder again.
"Teresa and I-we were disagreeing about something," Charlie said.
Murdoch left his spot by the door, and walked on further into the room, crossing over to the bed, where he stood,
looking at the packages. He reached down, and ran a hand over the vivid red dress, and then looked at Charlie again.
"Is this the source of the disagreement?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I see," he said, quietly.
A glance upwards at his face, and Charlie thought she saw disappointment there.
"Not you, too, Murdoch," Charlie said, without thinking.
"And what does that mean, exactly?" he asked.
"Nothing," Charlie said, her eyes returning to his shoulder.
"I don't think that comment means nothing."
Suddenly, Charlie felt as though she were going to snap.
"Can I go?" she asked. "I need to set the table for Maria."
"Charlie-" Murdoch began.
"You let Teresa go," Charlie said, thinking that she was going to burst into tears if she didn't leave immediately.
To her surprise, Murdoch said, "Alright. Go on and set the table."
Charlie made her escape, tearing past him, and down the stairs.
Instead of going to do her chore of setting the table, however, Charlie went back out to the barn. She took two of
the kittens and went up the ladder to the loft in the barn.
She sat, cuddling the kittens, until she heard familiar voices, just below. Scooting over to the loft door, she saw
Johnny there, talking with Jelly. At one point, Johnny looked upward, and saw her sitting there.
He grinned, and then once finished talking to Jelly, he turned to look up again, putting his hands on his hips.
"Hey, pequeno," he greeted her.
"Hi."
"What are you doin' up there? Isn't it about time for supper?"
"It's about time."
"Well, come on down."
"Where's Scott?" Charlie asked.
"I dunno. Out and about somewheres. Why? You waitin' for him?"
"I guess."
Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. "It's makin' my neck hurt, lookin' up at you like that. Come on down."
Charlie sighed, and went to the ladder, climbing down with one kitten in her hand, and one on her shoulder. Johnny was
waiting at the bottom of the ladder. He took the kitten from her shoulder, and set it on the barn floor.
"I'm hungrier than a bear who hasn't eaten all winter," Johnny said.
Charlie set the kitten in her hand down, to join the others.
"How did it go today with the red-headed hooligans?" he asked. "They give you any trouble?"
"No."
"Well, that's good, then."
As they walked toward the house together, Johnny gave her a perceptive look. "If it's not that, then what's botherin' you?"
Charlie swept her big eyes up to his blue ones.
Before Charlie could decide how to answer, the door near the kitchen opened, and Teresa stepped out. Long enough
to say, "Supper's nearly ready. Maria says to come in and get washed up."
"Scott home?" Johnny asked.
"He had a meeting or something, Murdoch said," Teresa answered, and went back inside.
Once she and Johnny were inside, Charlie found herself on the receiving end of a scolding from Maria.
"Usted sabe que su trabajo," Maria scolded, gesturing to the stack of plates. (You know your job)
Charlie felt her face get hot in embarrassment. She looked away from Maria's disapproval, and went to wash her
hands. Once finished, she took the stack of plates, and headed to the dining room to set the table. She risked a look at Teresa as she
passed, but Teresa was intent on her own task and seemed not to be taking notice of Charlie at all.
In the dining room, Charlie was going around the table, setting a plate at each chair, when Johnny came in, carrying
a large pitcher of lemonade, which he set in the middle of the table.
"What goes on?" he asked. "Maria seems riled up at you."
"Oh, well," Charlie said, trying to sound breezy and unconcerned. "She might as well be like everyone else around here that is."
Johnny paused, looking at her puzzled. "Others around here upset with you, are they?"
Charlie shrugged, and kept on, laying the plates, and avoiding his eye.
When she'd reached the side of the table where he was standing, Charlie began to step around Johnny, but he stopped her
with a light tug on her braid. "I'm not upset with ya, pequeno," he said, and when Charlie swung her glance up to his, she saw that
his eyes were sparkling in teasing.
"You will be," Charlie said.
"Maybe not. Try me," Johnny said.
Charlie bit at her bottom lip for a moment, and then said, "Teresa bought me a dress."
When that was all she said, Johnny's forehead furrowed in question. "Uh huh?" he prompted.
"And I told her it was horrible, and ugly and that I wouldn't wear it."
"Mmm," Johnny said, in response.
"And then Murdoch heard us arguing, and he wanted to know about it, and Teresa left, and then he had this disappointed look
on his face," Charlie said, her words in a rush.
"Well-" Johnny began.
"I know he's disappointed in me, because I won't wear it, and I don't think that Teresa should try to make me into somebody that
I'm not!"
When she'd finished, Johnny was still a moment, and then said, "Whew! You are wound up."
"Well, I'm not gonna wear it," Charlie said, stubbornly, and stepped around him to set down the last plate.
"What did Teresa say? When you said you wouldn't wear it?" Johnny asked.
"She said-that she would return it, and that I was being rude."
"Well, there you go. She plans to return the dress, and so you won't have to wear it. "
"Yes, but-"
"And I'm nearly certain that Teresa's not tryin' to make you into anybody but yourself. She wouldn't do that."
"Well, why would she buy me such a stupid dress, then?" Charlie demanded, feeling all wrought up again. "When she knows it's
not the sort that I want to wear?"
"I don't know, pequeno. Maybe she was just tryin' to do somethin' nice for ya," Johnny said.
When Charlie was quiet, he tugged her braid again. "Don't ya think that might be it?" he asked.
As she was again quiet, Johnny leaned down until he was on eye level with Charlie. "Teresa does a lot for you, doesn't she?"
Charlie nodded in response, somberly.
"Well, you ought to remember those things that she does for ya. She might have bought you a dress that's not your style, but
that shouldn't cancel out all the other nice things. Should it?"
Charlie shook her head. "No, Johnny."
"Do you think you hurt her feelins'?" he asked then.
"I'm fairly sure that I did," she admitted.
"Well, you apologize to her. Tell her you're sorry that you didn't choose your words more carefully. Things will be fixed up
between the two of you then," he predicted.
Charlie bit at her lip again, and then gave another nod.
Voices were coming toward the dining room, then, a sign that they were about to be interrupted.
"Right after supper, you talk to her," Johnny said, softly. "Alright?"
"Yes. Alright."
L