Charlie sat at her window seat, looking out. She wasn't sure just how long she sat there. It couldn't have been all

that long. She knew she should go back downstairs. Her school books were down there, in Murdoch's library. She had to practice

her handwriting, and she had arithmetic to finish. But, she dreaded it so, going back downstairs.

Try as she did, Charlie couldn't think of a way out of talking to Scott. Her stomach knotted at the thought of it. He would

get that look on his face, that look that Charlie dreaded. The one that said without words how disappointed he was.

She could hear him now, calling to her from the bottom of the stairs.

Charlie thought about pretending she didn't hear, but that wouldn't solve anything. He would only come up here. Still,

it was worth a try. She sat still, hugging her knees to her chest, as he called for a second time, louder, telling her to come

down.

Charlie stood up, sighing, and then, dragging her feet, she opened her door and went out into the hallway, going

to the head of the stairs.

Scott, at the bottom of the staircase, had his hand resting on the bannister. When she appeared, he

said, "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

Instead of answering, or lying, Charlie said, instead, "Did you want me for something?"

"Yeah, silly girl," Scott said, sounding amused. "Come on down, and get started on your school work."

Charlie hesitated, and then came down the stairs to the mid-way point, where she paused. She clasped her hands together,

behind her back.

"If I come down and get it, can I do it in my bedroom?" Charlie asked, and then amended, "I mean, may I?"

"Why?" Scott asked, looking puzzled.

"I would just like to."

Scott came on up the few stairs to the center, where she stood. "Do you not feel well?" he asked.

"No," Charlie said, feeling even worse at hearing the genuine concern in his voice. and then realized that he'd

thought she meant 'no', she didn't feel well.

Before she could tell him that she wasn't sick, Scott reached out and held his hand to her forehead.

"You don't feel warm," he said.

At the 'paternal' gesture of him doing what he'd just done, checking her for fever, Charlie felt her throat

tighten in emotion.

"I meant no, I'm not sick," Charlie said, nibbling at her lower lip in nerves.

Scott's gaze turned from concerned to contemplative, as he dropped his hand. "Something's wrong, though," he said, more in statement

than in question.

Charlie only looked at him out of those huge brown eyes, not confirming, nor denying.

"Isn't there?" he asked.

Charlie gave the smallest of nods.

"Is it the boys, bothering you? Monte and his brother?" Scott asked.

"No. Well, Monte was just a little, but Jason made him stop. It's not that."

Scott was quiet, and Charlie nibbled at her lip again.

"I've done something," Charlie said, feeling more miserable by the moment.

"Let's go on down, and talk in the library," Scott said, starting down the few steps. "It sounds as though this is a sit-down

sort of talk."

Scott was nearly at the bottom of the stairs again, when he turned, realizing that Charlie had not moved.

"Charlie?" he said, questioningly.

"Is the family still in there?" Charlie asked.

"I think Murdoch might be. Why?"

Charlie quickly thought over the prospect of Murdoch overhearing her confession about going to the shack.

Would it help to have him there, or would it not? Likely, not.

"Can we talk when you come up to read with me before bed?" Charlie asked. Anything to put it off a bit longer.

Scott came back up the stairs again, turning Charlie to head up, with a hand in the center of her back.

"Let's go to your bedroom," he said.

Once at the door of Charlie's bedroom, Scott went in and sat down on the window seat bench. Charlie hesitated, by

the doorway, and then came over slowly, to sit down beside him.

Scott studied her face. "What is it, Charlie?" he asked.

"The boys were being mean to that old man last week, throwing rocks at him-" Charlie began.

As this was a well-known fact to him already, Scott recognized the stalling tactic, and said, "And?"

"Well, don't you think he might need a friend?" Charlie asked, then.

Less patient now, Scott said firmly, "Charlie, just tell me what this is about."

"I gave him some fruit," Charlie said, watching his face for reaction. "Pears and apples."

Scott wrinkled his forehead in puzzlement. "What do you mean, you gave it to him? You saw him?"

"Yes. I saw him."

With a deep sigh, Charlie said, "I was going to leave it in the yard or something, as we walked by on our way

to fishing. But, then, Rebecca couldn't go, so I took it. The fruit, I mean. "And he was nice, Scott! He appreciated it."

For what seemed like a long time, but really was only a moment or so, Scott was quiet, and then he said, "You went

there?" He looked as though he was stunned. And then, just as quickly, his expression turned disappointed. The disappointed

look that Charlie hated.

"I was trying to be a good citizen," Charlie said. "You know, like what Pastor Falls preached about last Sunday-"

"We are not talking about a sermon, Charlie," Scott said, and Charlie subsided.

"We don't know this man," Scott went on. "He could have reacted badly-he could have hurt you."

"He was nice, though, Scott." Charlie reminded him, pushing back the thought of the previous day when the man had, indeed,

reacted badly, hollering and waving his gun around.

"Charlie!" Scott said, sharply, and Charlie subsided into quiet.

"Stop making excuses to justify what you did," Scott said. "It was wrong and you knew it. If you'd thought

it wasn't wrong, you would have come to me, or one of us, and asked permission."

"You would have said no, though," Charlie pointed out, and was sorry as soon as she said it. That comment didn't help

her situation, she could see that by the way Scott's eyes darkened. He was good and mad now, alright.

"I likely would have, that's right," he verified. "There could be reasons why folks around here say what they do about

him. He could be dangerous."

Charlie stayed still, frightened now, by the way that Scott looked.

"And, even if the rumors about him aren't truthful, and he's really alright, not dangerous, you still should not have gone alone," Scott

finished severely.

At least, Charlie thought he was finishing. But, no, he went on.

"You can't be doing things like this, Charlie. We have rules in place for you, to keep you safe. Tearing around doing

whatever you please isn't an option for you. Not anymore."

Charlie bit at her lip, watching him, and Scott sighed, turning to look out the window, just for a moment or so.

The air seemed to crackle, at least to Charlie it seemed so, waiting as she was, for him to speak.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Scott asked, and Charlie blinked at him in surprise, and then felt her

stomach drop even more. This wasn't going to bode well.

She couldn't tell him that she'd just decided to come clean, and confess it all. He would find out that that was not the

case.

"Johnny said to tell you," Charlie said, quietly.

"How did that happen?"

"He asked me about fishing, and I didn't tell him that I hadn't gone, and then Teresa said she'd seen Rebecca-" Charlie let her

voice trail off.

"I see," he said, and between the fury in his eyes, Charlie saw the disappointment flare again.

"Well," he began slowly, "It was showing trust, to let you stay after school, to go fishing with your friends. And, it was

trust to allow you to ride your horse everyday to school. You've taken those two privileges of trust, and broken them. So,

there's not going to be any more staying after school. Not for awhile, anyway. And, instead of being able to ride your horse

alone, one of us will take you to school, and then pick you up again in the afternoon."

Charlie had known that Scott was going to be unhappy with her, that he would hand down a punishment. She'd been

thinking that he might make her write lines.

But this? Losing the opportunity to ride Gurth back and forth each sunny day to school? And not be able to go fishing with

Rebecca and the boys? Or even to play after school with them? She hadn't been expecting those consequences.

Being driven to and from school, after having had the freedom of riding in? Well, it was harsh to her.

"I won't go to his shack anymore," Charlie told him earnestly. "I'll go straight to school, and come straight home

afterwards-please let me keep riding Gurth there-"

"No, Charlie," Scott said.

"But, how long? Before I can ride alone again? Or go with Rebecca and Jason to the pond?"

"I don't know. I can't say right now. I'll have to think about it. We'll have to see how you do," Scott said.

"But-" Charlie began again.

"No wheedling. You've earned this." He gave her a long look, and then said, "After you finish your school work, you

can get some paper from the desk, and I'll give you some lines to write."

Lines, too?

Charlie felt tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't want to cry, but golly.

"Comere," Scott said, then, and gave her wrist a tug, pulling her to her feet, and then positioning her to where

she was standing directly in front of him. He put a hand on each side of her waist, holding her in place.

"This is serious stuff here, Charlie," he said, keeping his voice stern.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said.

"You let your curiousity get the better of you."

"I guess that's right," Charlie admitted.

"I ought to spank you," Scott said. "This is something worthy of a good spanking.'

Charlie swallowed hard, and brushed at her cheek anxiously..

Scott looked her over, and then he sighed, again. "I won't do that," he said, and Charlie felt relief

wash over her in waves.

Then he said, "This time," and to Charlie it sounded ominous.

"If you do anything more, trying to sneak around, and hide what you're doing, well, then, I will. Do you

understand me?"

Charlie nodded miserably.

"Words, Charlie," Scott ordered.

"I understand," Charlie managed, though it was more of a mumble.

"Alright," Scott said. "Go on down now and get your school books. You can sit at the desk and work. I'll come in

and see how your arithmetic looks." He gave her a light pat, and stood up.

Charlie followed him down the stairs, feeling utterly miserable. It felt as though her world was off its axis.

She sat at Murdoch's big desk, doing her sums, and then laid it aside, beginning to copy her handwriting assignment.

She didn't know where the rest of the family had gotten to. She could, every now and then, hear voices. And once, she

heard Johnny's laughter. Charlie felt lonely there, all by herself. Lonesome, and feeling sorry for herself.

Charlie began to sniffle, sitting there, and pausing every few moments to brush at her cheeks.

Teresa came in once, gathering up glasses that had been left setting out.

"Hi," the older girl said, pausing to look at Charlie, sitting there at the desk.

"Hi," Charlie returned, subdued.

Teresa came over closer, and said, very low, "I can tell you've talked to Scott. You have that look. The look a girl

gets when she's been jerked back into line." She tried a smile at Charlie.

Charlie, too miserable to smile back, only shrugged.

"It was bad, huh?" Teresa asked.

"He was so strict with me," Charlie said.

"Murdoch's been strict with me a few times," Teresa shared. "I do understand."

Charlie raised her eyes to Teresa's face.

"I'm sorry I said you weren't like a sister," she told the older girl.

"It's alright. I forgive you," Teresa said, and smiled again.

After that, Teresa sat, while Charlie finished her handwriting, and they talked together, until Scott came to

check over Charlie's arithmetic.

L