Charlie dallied with her completion of the dish drying, and then just as slowly the task of putting them away. When that was done, she took a cloth

and went about the kitchen, wiping absent-mindedly.

Maria reached down and took the cloth from Charlie's hands. "Date prisa a lo largo, Senor Johnny," she said briskly.

Charlie didn't know any of those Spanish words, except for the 'Mr. Johnny', part. But, it wasn't too difficult to figure out that

Maria was hurrying her along, so she could go meet Johnny.

She heaved a huge sigh, but Maria only gave a nod towards the door leading outside to the corral.

Charlie went outside reluctantly, and Maria closed the door behind her. Charlie stood by the side of the house for a few minutes. She saw Johnny

come out of the barn, and go over to the corral gate, stepping inside, and running his hand over the back of several of the horses.

He held out his hand, and fed a couple of the horses something from his hand.

She walked slowly over to the corral fence, and stood there quietly. Johnny went on, his back turned, finishing feeding the horse's their treats, and then

he gave Gurth's injured neck a short appraisal.

"It's lookin' good," he said, and Charlie wondered how he'd known she was standing there. She had made hardly any noise, she knew that.

She said nothing in response to his comment about Gurth, and Johnny straightened up to his full height, wiping his hands on

his pants. He turned to look at Charlie, and then came over to the gate. Instead of opening it, he said, "Come on," and lifted her

over the fence.

He set her on her feet on the other side. "Let's walk," he said, briefly, and set off.

Charlie hesitated for a long few moments, and then had to scurry to catch up to him.

Johnny was silent for a time, just walking, and snapping off the tops of the tall grass with his fingers. Charlie began to be

worried. Usually Johnny just came out with things. Charlie had been somewhat prepared for him to lam blast her about

being less than truthful earlier in the afternoon. She wasn't prepared at all for his brooding silence.

"I'm disappointed in ya, pequeno," he said, finally speaking. His voice was still quiet, and he kept walking, not looking

directly at her.

Before she could stop herself, Charlie blurted out, "Why?"

Now, he did turn to her, though he kept walking. "Now, don't do that," he said.

"Do what?" Charlie said.

"That," Johnny said, pointing his index finger at her just for a moment, "That right there. That pretendin' that you have no

idea what I'm talkin' about."

Charlie felt her face flame hot. "I didn't lie to you, Johnny. I never said that I went fishing. And I never said that I didn't go. You-you asked

me if I brought home any fish, and I said no, and then-"

"I know what I said. And I know what you said," Johnny interrupted her torrent of words.

Charlie's face grew even hotter. Johnny looked away and glanced around, and then headed toward a tree, its branches so long

they nearly touched the ground. He lowered himself to the ground and leaned back against the tree.

"Come on over here, and sit down," he said.

Charlie closed the gap between them slowly. She stood there, though, feeling stubborn.

"Sit down," Johnny said, again.

"I don't see why you're so angry at me-" Charlie said, sinking to the ground, and tucking her knees up underneath her bottom.

"I think you do know," Johnny contradicted, and Charlie felt suddenly frightened. He looked so-un Johnny-like. "But, just on the

off-chance that you don't, I'll make sure you know it when we're done talkin'."

Charlie found it hard to swallow suddenly, as Johnny continued talking.

"I asked you about fishin, earlier. I went at it six ways to Sunday, and you never once said that you didn't go. And, I've studied

over it all evenin', and I can't figure out why. So, why don't you tell me?"

"I didn't lie to you-" Charlie said, trying to hold out.

"Not directly, you didn't. There's more than one way to tell a lie, though, pequeno."

Charlie thought that over, studying his face. "I should have just told you that I didn't go," she admitted.

"Right. But, you didn't," he said. "You wanted me to think that you had gone fishin'. I want to know why that is."

"Well," Charlie said slowly, considering. "I-" she hesitated again, and then looked at him, feeling miserable. "I thought

I might have to explain why I was late, if you, or Scott knew that I didn't go fishing."

"Which you did. You took a slow ride home on your horse. Because it was such a nice afternoon. Right?"

When Charlie was quiet, Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Well? Isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, Johnny."

"So, what were you really doin' then?" he asked.

Charlie began to say something, she wasn't certain even just what she was going to say, but at the last second, those

piercing eyes gave her pause. This must the 'Madrid-look' that Teresa had told her about. She couldn't lie in the face of that look.

"I was-visiting someone," Charlie said.

"Who?"

"I took some fruit to that old man," Charlie admitted.

"What old man?"

"The one who bought the horse at the auction, the one with the glass eye," Charlie supplied.

For a long, long few moments, the air crackled between them.

"The one that you were told to stay away from?" Johnny asked.

"I wasn't," Charlie protested. "None of you actually said to stay away from him. Scott said he must like his solitude, and Teresa

said he gave her the willies, and you said he shouldn't be judged because he needed a bath-"

"That's enough," Johnny said sharply, and Charlie trailed off into silence.

"This is sneaky behavior," Johnny said.

"I was trying to be nice," Charlie protested. "Everybody is mean to him, and I thought he might want some fruit-"

"Maybe you thought he might want some fruit, alright, but you've also been determined to find out what his story is. From the

first time you heard about him. Isn't that so?"

Charlie looked at him, feeling mutinous. "Murdoch said I could take the fruit," she said.

"But, he didn't know who you were takin' it to, now did he?"

Charlie was silent, looking away from him, across the pastures. Refusing to answer.

Johnny sighed, and got to his feet. "Well, since you want to stay mum for the most part, you can talk to Scott about it."

Charlie sat where she was, and Johnny said, "Let's go back to the house."

"I'll talk to you, Johnny," Charlie said, her stubbornness fading a good bit. She didn't want to tell Scott. Charlie looked up at him imploringly. "I will!"

Johnny looked thoughtful for a moment, and then came over to where she sat, perched on her knees. He crouched down

beside her, snapping off a blade of grass with his fingers. "I think this is somethin' Scott should know. It was risky for you to

do what you did. You need to face the music, pequeno." He stood up, again, and began to walk, halting to look back at her.

Still she sat, and Johnny said, more curtly, "Charlie. Let's go."

Charlie stood up, and started walking behind him again.

"I was just trying to be nice," Charlie said, to his back.

When Johnny was silent, Charlie subsided into silence as well.

At the gate, he unlatched it, and ushered her thru. "You go find Scott," he said.

"I don't want to," Charlie said. She said it very quietly, but Johnny's eyes flashed.

"If he hears it from me, he'll be more angry with ya. Is that what you want?"

"No."

"Then scoot," Johnny ordered.

L

At the front door, Charlie paused in front of Johnny, looking up at him.

"Uncles are supposed to help kids, aren't they?"

Johnny gave her a look, well aware of being worked. When he was quiet, Charlie went on, "And you're like my uncle, right?"

Johnny opened the door, and put a hand on her shoulder, steering her inside.

"You're nervin' me, kid," he muttered.

"What?" Charlie asked. She hadn't heard him.

"I said-" he hesitated. "Never mind what I said. I know you're workin' me. Quit."

Charlie heaved a heavy sigh, meant to show her discontent with his 'uncling'. Johnny didn't respond in any way to

that sigh, but only left her standing there in the foyer, saying, "Go talk to Scott."

He went off to the kitchen, and Charlie stood there, feeling sorry for herself. Johnny hadn't even given her a backward glance.

He didn't want to help. Charlie felt bereft.

Then, with a burst of inspiration she thought of Teresa. Teresa! She would help smooth the way thru all this. That's what

big sisters did.

Charlie followed the sound of voices, going to peek into the library. Murdoch was there, sitting in the chair behind his

desk, his legs stretched out in front of him. Teresa was standing beside the desk, as well, and the two of them were in

deep conversation, by the looks of it.

"There you are," Murdoch said, looking towards Charlie. "We wondered where you had gotten to."

"I went for a walk with Johnny," Charlie told him, trying to sound casual.

"That's good," Murdoch said, and smiled at her.

Charlie stepped on into the room, looking about. "Where's Scott?" she asked.

"He went upstairs to get something," Teresa said. "He'll be right back."

"Oh. Teresa, can I talk to you?" Charlie said, hurriedly.

"Of course," Teresa said, not moving from her spot.

"I mean, can I talk to you, outside or something?" Charlie amended.

Teresa looked surprised, but said, "Alright. Excuse me, Murdoch."

"You two girls have your chat," Murdoch said, looking amused. Then he added, "Shouldn't you be getting to

your schoolwork soon?" to Charlie.

"Yes. I will," Charlie said, and stepped back, motioning to Teresa.

Teresa came unhurriedly to the doorway of the library. "What is it?" she asked.

Charlie took her hand and pulled her back into the foyer. By now, she had Teresa's full attention.

"What in the world?" Teresa asked.

"Will you help me?" Charlie asked.

"If I can. What is it?"

In a low, nearly whispered tone, Charlie informed Teresa what was going on, and finished with, "Johnny won't help! He

won't talk to Scott or anything!"

Teresa, to her credit, had kept quiet throughout the frenzied explanation, though her eyes had widened with concern.

Now, she said, "Charlie, what were you thinking? To go to his house that way?"

"I know," Charlie acknowledged. She knew she had to allow Teresa a moment of scolding. That was also 'big sister' stuff.

"Will you help me? Please?" Charlie begged.

"What do you want me to do?" Teresa asked. "I don't see-"

"Will you talk to Scott with me?"

"With you?" Teresa specified. "Or for you? Because, I won't talk to him for you, Charlie. You need to tell him yourself-"

"Okay, but will you stay with me while I tell him?"

"What do you think that's going to do?" Teresa pointed out. "He's going to be upset with you, whether you're alone,

or whether I'm there. You just need to get it over with."

Charlie felt like crying. "I thought you would help me for sure," she accused.

"I said I would," Teresa began.

"No, you didn't! You just want to throw me to the lions, just like Johnny does!"

"I don't think comparing Scott to a den of lions is quite right, Charlie," Teresa said.

"I don't care!" Charlie huffed, crossing her arms.

Teresa's gaze turned sympathetic. "Just tell him. You'll feel better, then."

Charlie gave Teresa a look of disbelief. "I don't know how you figure that," she said, in disgust.

Teresa reached out and patted Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie," she began, in a comforting tone.

Charlie jerked her shoulder away. "You make it sound so easy! You're not the one in trouble!"

Teresa looked less sympathetic then. "Well, you brought it on yourself," she said.

Charlie stomped past Teresa, going up the stairs. "You're not being like a sister at all," she accused Teresa,

though she hissed it in a loud whisper. She didn't want Murdoch to overhear.

"Charlie-" Teresa was saying, also in a loud whisper.

Charlie ran on, up the stairs, and to her bedroom. She slammed the door, and then instantly regretted it. That

would bring Scott in a hurry, if he was still upstairs. She stood in the center of the room, holding her breath, and listening.

But no one came to investigate the slammed door.

L