Charlie was quiet at the supper table. Scott's chair remained empty, with no arrival from him as the meal continued. Charlie wished

he was sitting there, across from her, though he'd probably be all serious looking and disapproving once he'd found out about her

to-do with Teresa.

Even so, she wished he would come walking in. It just didn't feel right at the table, without him there.

Mostly, Johnny and Murdoch conversed, with an occasional comment from Teresa. But, Teresa was quieter than usual, too.

When Charlie risked a look at her, she thought that Teresa's expression was somber, but not angry appearing.

She sighed, pushing the peas around on her plate, trying to think how to best approach Teresa with an apology.

"Pequeno," Johnny spoke softly, and Charlie looked up.

"Murdoch's talkin' to you," Johnny said, and Charlie looked down the table at Murdoch.

"I didn't hear what you said," Charlie told him.

"Your thoughts are somewhere else, hmm?" Murdoch asked, and Charlie felt her face get warm with embarrassment. Murdoch knew

very well where her thoughts had been. On Teresa. On their argument. On the fact that Murdoch had overheard bits of it.

"Yes, sir," Charlie said.

"I asked about the two boys. And if they gave you any problems today?" Murdoch repeated.

Charlie shook her head. "No. they didn't."

"Well, that's good," Murdoch said. "Hopefully the situation is resolved."

"Hopefully their father gave them a paddling," Teresa spoke up.

Charlie swept her gaze to Teresa, feeling a sudden sympatico with the older girl. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to apologize to

Teresa after all. If Teresa thought that Monte and John should be punished for what they'd done, that must mean she wasn't mad

at Charlie for the red dress fiasco. That warm feeling lasted only a moment, though. For with Teresa's next words,

it went away.

"That's the best way to deal with rude children who don't know how to behave themselves," Teresa said vehemently.

Charlie felt her face flame even more. Teresa meant that for her, for Charlie. Charlie just knew it. Teresa had said she

was rude. So, therefore, Teresa must be saying that she thought Charlie ought to be paddled!

"Strong words, my darling," Murdoch told her, his tone mild.

"Yeah, hermanita," Johnny said, with a grin at Teresa. "You sound as though you'd like to do the job yourself on the

red-headed fiends."

"Maybe I would," Teresa said, with a snap to her voice.

Murdoch was talking now. Something about how a good spanking had its proper place, if done correctly, and for the

right reasons.

Charlie pushed her plate away, a bit too forcefully. The side of her plate hit her water glass with a clink.

All eyes turned to her in question.

"Sorry," Charlie said, in nearly only a mutter.

As they all continued eating, Charlie couldn't make herself swallow any more food.

"May I be excused?" she said, looking towards Johnny, and then Murdoch. Johnny would have let her go, she was sure of that. He

knew she was upset. For that matter, Murdoch knew it, as well. But, Murdoch, in answer, said, "Finish your meal."

"I'm full," Charlie said.

"You've hardly eaten anything," Murdoch observed. "You can't possibly be full yet."

"But, I am, Murdoch," Charlie insisted. "Please, may I go?"

"Eat a bit more," Murdoch said. Quietly. But, firmly. Very firmly.

"I can't," Charlie protested.

For a long, long couple of moments, the air crackled at the table, as everyone was silent.

"You try, just the same," Murdoch said.

Charlie let her gaze skitter from his, and picked up her fork, suppressing the deep sigh she wanted to release. She ate her potatoes, and

her peas. She ate her piece of beef roast, or nearly all of it, anyway. By now, Teresa had left the table, gathering up some

of the empty dishes as she went. Johnny, too, had finished his meal, and, with a light touch at the back of Charlie's head, he was gone.

Murdoch, though finished with his own meal, still sat at the table. He'd poured himself a tumbler of whiskey from the decanter on the

table, and was sitting there, quietly.

Charlie took a drink of her milk, and risked a look at his end of the table.

"I've finished it all," Charlie said quietly. "Nearly, anyway."

Murdoch nodded, and set his glass down. "Come here," he said then.

Charlie sat for a moment, suddenly feeling timid. He was so, so big. And formidable. And-well, so many things.

She scooted her chair away from the table, and stood up, going over to stand beside his chair.

"I think," Murdoch began, "That if you have something to work out with Teresa, then you need to do that."

"I was going to-right after supper," Charlie said.

"And do you still plan to do that?"

Charlie gave him an expression filled with emotion.

"She shouldn't say I need to be paddled," Charlie said, very low.

"Did she say that?" Murdoch asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I didn't hear it."

"Well-she said rude kids who don't know how to behave should be," Charlie said.

"I believe she was talking about the boys."

When Charlie was silent, Murdoch lifted her chin with his hand. "I think you know how to behave. Don't you?"

Charlie nodded in answer. "Were you rude to Teresa?" Murdoch asked her then.

Charlie sighed in resignation. "Yes." Remembering the way that Johnny had voiced it earlier, she went on. "I should have chosen

my words more carefully."

Murdoch dropped his hand, but held her gaze with his own.

"Well, then, I'm certain Teresa will understand," he said. "And, I think you might be misunderstanding her on some things."

"Okay."

Murdoch reached out, putting a big hand on either side of Charlie's waist, and pulling her nearer.

"With that said, however," he began, "Being rude, especially when someone is giving you a gift, is not a very appropriate

way to act. Add to that, the fact of you talking back to me about finishing your supper, and, well, none of that pleases

me at all."

Charlie felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

"I'm sorry for sassing you," Charlie managed.

"Alright. I appreciate the apology. I wouldn't like for it to happen again. If it was to continue, then I think I might have to consider something harsher

than just talking to you."

Charlie swallowed. She didn't think she'd ever been quite so frightened. Well, she'd been frightened, of course, running from the shop keepers

in Stockton, or something such as that. But, this-this was different. Horrible. She couldn't imagine anything more daunting than

being dealt with by an angry Murdoch.

"I don't want that-" Charlie began. "I don't want ever to have you do that!"

"Well, then, just remember our talk we've had here, and we won't have to worry about it," Murdoch said. "Alright?"

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, swallowing hard.

Murdoch surveyed her face, and then said, sounding kind, "Do you have schoolwork to complete?"

"A little. Some-arithmetic sums. And reading."

"Alright. Take your plate out to the kitchen to Maria, and then fetch your sums. We'll see if we can't get them completed."

Charlie nodded, and went upstairs to her bedroom, gathering up her books, and going back down. She went to the library, and stood

in the open doorway. Murdoch was sitting at his desk, sifting thru some papers. Charlie stood there, still and quiet, and when Murdoch

noticed her there, he laid down the papers in his hand and said, "Come in, darling."

Darling? Charlie felt her breath whoosh from her chest. She came into the room, and over to the desk.

"Let's see what you have here," Murdoch said, taking the things from her, and opening the arithmetic book.

"Why don't you start out, and see if you have any struggles," he suggested.

Charlie nodded, and Murdoch pulled a straight back chair over closer.

Charlie was still feeling shaken. Murdoch noticed, and took her hand in his. "You're trembling," he said.

"I don't want you to be angry with me," Charlie said, very softly.

"Darling, I'm not angry with you."

With a sense of great relief, Charlie said, "You're not?"

"No." Murdoch lifted her up, and sat her on his knee. He held her that way, against his chest, for a few minutes. Neither one spoke during those

quiet minutes.

"Where's Scott?" Charlie asked, finally.

"He had a meeting, with some of the other cattlemen, in town."

After that, Murdoch watched, as Charlie worked thru her arithmetic, sitting in the chair beside him. They were just finishing, when

there were sounds of the front door closing, and boot steps walking in their direction.

"It's Scott," Charlie said, feeling glad.

"I think so," Murdoch agreed.

When Scott came into the room, Charlie got up, going to meet him halfway across the wooden floor. Scott laid a hand

at the back of her neck.

"How are things with you?" he asked her.

Charlie looked up at him, and then back to Murdoch. It would be a lie to say that things were fine, or that nothing of much

consequence had happened all that afternoon and evening.

"Murdoch was helping me with my sums," was what Charlie settled for saying.

"Good," Scott said.

For the next few minutes, Scott and Murdoch spent the time talking. Mostly about the meeting that Scott had gone to. Who had

attended, and what had been discussed.

Scott took the glass of whiskey that Murdoch handed off to him. Teresa reappeared. "We've kept your supper warm in the oven," she

told Scott, coming over to stand next to him.

"That's nice," Scott said, sounding grateful. "Thank you."

Teresa smiled at him, and turned, saying, "Come to the kitchen when you're ready."

Scott ran his hand over Charlie's shoulder. "Are you finished with your arithmetic?" he asked.

When Charlie nodded, Scott said, "Well, go on up and get ready for bed. I'll be up soon, and we'll do your reading."

Charlie obeyed, going up the stairs to her bedroom. She'd paused, at the bottom of the staircase. Maybe she should go into the

kitchen and talk to Teresa now, while she was there alone. But, then she lost her nerve. Later, she told herself.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Charlie had peeled off her overalls and was washing her face and hands when she saw what was on her

dressing table.

The tortoiseshell hairbrush and comb set.

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Charlie sat down on her bed, in her nightgown, holding the brush and comb. Touching the smoothness of them. She tried to think of why

Teresa had left it there. Charlie wondered why Teresa would still want her to have them, after she'd treated her so badly.

And, being honest with herself, Charlie knew that she had been unnecessarily rude and abrupt to Teresa. Charlie thought she would go

down to the kitchen, and talk to Teresa. If Scott was there, then she would ask Teresa to go into another room, so as to do the apology

in private. Not that she thought she would get away without Scott hearing about everything that had happened. He'd hear about it all, alright. So,

it wasn't that she wanted to hide anything from Scott, really. She just wanted to say her piece to Teresa in privacy. As she was deciding that,

she heard footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of the linen closet doors, opening and then closing again.

Charlie went to her door, and opened it, peeking out. Teresa, with a blanket in her arms, was going into her own bedroom.

Gathering her courage, Charlie went down the hallway the small distance, to Teresa's open door, carrying the tortoiseshell hairbrush.

Teresa was remaking her bed, adding the extra blanket. She turned and saw Charlie there.

"Oh," Teresa said. "You were so quiet, you startled me." She didn't really smile, but she didn't seem upset, either.

"It's supposed to get colder tonight," Teresa said. "You might want to add an extra blanket to your bed, too."

Charlie nodded, and Teresa went over to her dressing table, sitting down. She began taking the pins from her hair.

"Did you want something?" Teresa asked.

"I-saw the brush and comb set," Charlie said, lifting the brush a bit.

Teresa picked up her own hairbrush, and turned on the bench so that she was facing Charlie, pulling the brush thru her dark hair.

"You said you liked it," Teresa said quietly.

"Yes. I do."

"Well, it's yours then," Teresa said, and then she smiled. Just a tiny smile.

"I was mean to you," Charlie said. "Really mean. I was rude, and ungrateful. I'm sorry."

Teresa surveyed Charlie for a long few moments, somberly.

"Charlie," she said, and held out a hand.

Charlie stepped into the room, and went to take Teresa's hand.

Teresa scooted over, so there was room for Charlie to sit beside her on the bench, and, after Charlie had seated herself, Teresa

said, "I made a mistake. About the dress. I see that now. It's very definitely not your type of dress at all."

"It's not," Charlie said. "But, I shouldn't have said those things that I did."

"No," Teresa said, in agreement. "You shouldn't have."

"I thought you were wanting me to be different than what I am. Be more like a girl that would wear that sort of dress."

"Oh, I wouldn't want that, Charlie. I like you just the way that you are. That's not what I meant at all."

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to keep the brush set, after what I said," Charlie said.

"You mean about how I only gave you that, so I could force the dress on you?" Teresa asked.

Charlie nodded.

"I want you to have it. No strings attached," Teresa said, and then she smiled in humor. "No having to wear the 'tomato costume'."

Charlie couldn't help the giggle that escaped. She was just so relieved that things between her and Teresa were alright again. And, besides,

Teresa was making a funny face when she mentioned that. The 'tomato costume'.

Teresa giggled, as well.

After that, Teresa offered to brush Charlie's hair, using the new hairbrush, and while they were doing that, they kept stopping to laugh.

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They were in the midst of one of those fits of giggles, when Scott cleared his throat. Both of them looked up to see him standing

there in the doorway, leaning against the wall.

"Oh. Scott," Teresa said. "We didn't see you there."

"I'm not surprised," Scott said. "The way you both were carrying on, laughing." He was smiling a little.

"I guess we just have a case of the giggles." Teresa answered, still running the brush thru Charlie's long hair.

"Did you two have a problem between you earlier?" he asked then. It was evident that he'd been told at least a bit about

what had happened.

"We did. It's all settled now," Teresa said.

"It is?" he asked.

"It very definitely is. Right, Charlie?"

"Right," Charlie echoed.

"There. You see? Nothing for you to worry about, Scott," Teresa said, in a breezy tone.

Charlie saw that Scott was looking serious, and Teresa must have seen it, as well. She handed the new hairbrush

back to Charlie, and said, "There. Your hair's all brushed out."

Then she stood up, and Charlie did, too.

"I think I'll go down and get a glass of milk before bed," Teresa said, and paused in front of Scott. "What happened is between

Charlie and me," she said, looking at his face. "So no scolding, alright? Promise?"

"Alright, I promise," Scott said, with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Good." Teresa reached up and gave his cheek a kiss. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Scott told her.

"Goodnight, Charlie," Teresa called back as she made her way down the stairs.

"'Night, Teresa."

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A bit later, after Scott had listened while Charlie finished her reading and he was tucking her into bed,

Charlie told him about the next afternoon, and being invited to go fishing with the other children. She told him who was going, and

how nice these kids were, and finished with a burst. "And I really want to go!"

"I can tell that you do," he said.

Sitting there, on her bed, cross-legged, Charlie said, looking at him hopefully, "Can I, Scott?"

"It's 'may I'," he corrected automatically.

"May I?" Charlie rephrased. "Please?"

"Where do they fish at?" he asked.

"At Rebecca and Jason's grandfather's pond."

"And where is that?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure-but I know Rebecca said that it doesn't take long to walk there from school."

"What's their last name? Jason and Rebecca?"

When Charlie told him, Scott nodded. "I think I know their grandfather. He lives just outside of town."

"And he doesn't mind them bringing other kids over there to fish?" Scott asked.

"Rebecca says he doesn't mind. And I've seen other kids leave school to go there with them."

Scott looked as though he was considering, and Charlie kept still, though it was a real effort on her part.

"You can go," he said.

"Thank you!" Charlie said, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him.

"I want you to be home by five o'clock, though. So, that means you'd be able to fish for an hour and a half, and then you'd

need to get started for home. Alright?"

"Yes. Alright."

"What about a fishing pole?" he asked.

"Rebecca says they have extras, that they leave in the barn there."

"Alright."

Charlie wrapped her arms around her knees. "These are nice kids, Scott. Remember when you said there had to be kids that

fit somewhere in between the kids in Stockton, and those stuck-up girls at boarding school?"

"I remember."

"Well, these are that in-between kind of kids."

"I'm glad," Scott said, and smiled at her. Patting her knee, he said, "And no problems with the boys? Monte and his brother?"

"They just glared at me. That was all."

"Good. Time to get to sleep." He reached over and turned the lamp down.

After Scott had said goodnight, and gone, leaving the door slightly ajar, Charlie curled up to go to sleep, feeling happy. It was interesting,

the way things worked in a family, she thought. She and Teresa had had a disagreement, but then, in the end, all was well again. And Johnny

was so good at the way he explained things, and he was loads of fun, too. Though she would have admitted to being just a bit intimidated by Murdoch

at his gruffest, she found she still longed to be in his company.

And, Scott. Well, he was sort of a like a hero. He'd been on her side ever since he'd helped her out that first day, at the railroad station

months ago.

Filled with contentment as she was at that moment, Charlie couldn't imagine ever arguing with Teresa again, or doing anything

remotely naughty or against the rules.

Her last thought as she drifted into sleep was of the fact that to get to Rebecca's grandpa's pond, she would have to pass right by the shack of

the mysterious glass-eyed man.

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