Watching Mr. Beets being driven away, in the buggy with Murdoch, to go to town and catch his stage, Charlie felt herself feeling

a bit morose. By now, Mr. Beets seemed to be quite at home on the Lancer ranch. When he was there, he blended right into things, and it

was easy enough for Charlie to nearly forget that Beets had a life away from Lancer, in Stockton.

It was only she and Teresa standing there, seeing the buggy disappear in the dust down the road. Scott and Johnny had already

said their goodbyes to Beets, and were back out working, somewhere on the ranch. Usually, on Sundays, they didn't spend the

entire day working. So, it wouldn't be long, likely, and they would be back in the house again. Having some of the dessert that Maria

had left for them, and a drink or two.

There was only Teresa and Charlie in the big house, since Maria had gone home to her own family.

"Well," Teresa said, as they prepared to go back inside, "I guess I'd better get some of that mending out of the way that I've been

putting off doing."

"I'm going to get a snack," Charlie said. "Some of that carrot cake that Maria made."

"You just ate," Teresa said.

"I'm hungry for dessert," Charlie said.

"Alright." Teresa paused at the bottom of the stairs. "You're supposed to go up to your room, then."

So, Scott had told Teresa. Charlie had been debating delaying going to her bedroom. But, with Teresa knowing now, well-

Charlie eyed Teresa. "Are you supposed to watch me, and report to Scott?" she asked. As soon as she'd said the words,

she realized just how hateful that they sounded.

"I'm not going to report anything to him," Teresa said, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm just reminding you. If he comes in,

and you're not where you were told to be, well, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

"I'll go as soon as I get my cake," Charlie told her.

Teresa didn't say anything more. She looked miffed, though. She shook her head a little, and went on up the stairs.

Charlie went first to Murdoch's library, where she'd left her new book. Then, carrying it, she went off to the kitchen.

Charlie cut herself off a generous piece of the cake, and sat at the table to eat it, reading while she did so. She

was pouring herself a glass of milk, and debating about having a second piece of cake, when she heard voices from outside.

She stood up swiftly, looking out the window. She could see Johnny, talking to Vernon, one of the hands. And where Johnny was,

Scott was likely not far behind. They must have finished for the day.

She must have read away more time than she'd realized. That was always the way it was, though, whenever she was reading a

book that she liked.

Charlie took the glass of milk, and her book, and made haste to head upstairs. In her hurry, she sloshed some milk onto the

floor. Pausing, she wondered whether to wipe it up, or keep moving. She heard the voices, Scott's now, too, just outside the

window. Charlie left the spilled milk, and sped towards the stairs, still carrying her glass and her book.

At the door of her bedroom, Charlie waited, catching her breath, and listening. The voices were inside the house, now. She went

into her room, and closed the door very quietly. She went to sit on her window sill seat, folding her hands and waiting.

But, Scott didn't come right away. When time had passed, progressing from minutes into nearly half an hour, Charlie stopped

sitting that way, all straight and with her hands folded. She sipped at her milk, and tried to read again.

This time, though, it wasn't as easy to lose herself in the story.

She kept thinking about having to sit up here, while the afternoon passed her by. The cake that she'd eaten wasn't setting so

well in her stomach. When, according to the wall clock, another hour had passed by, and Scott still had not come up, Charlie

began to feel sorry for herself. Then, she progressed to feeling down in the mouth.

Finally, Scott came. There was a light rap on her door, and his voice, quietly, "Charlie?"

Charlie sat up straight once again. "Yes."

When Scott came in, he left the door ajar, and walked over to sit down beside her on the window seat.

"Tell me why you think I had you sit up here," he said. His voice was calm enough, but Charlie could tell he expected an

answer. An appropriate one.

"I asked you to make an exception," Charlie said.

"On what?"

Charlie blinked at him a moment. He knew very well what.

"On a punishment," she said, wondering what he was going to say.

"Tell me what you think a punishment is for," Scott said then, his look intent.

Again, Charlie blinked at him, wondering.

"So, a person won't do something again. Something that's wrong."

"Right. And rules are there to do what?" he asked.

"To make me behave," Charlie said.

For a moment, a very slight moment, Charlie thought Scott looked amused at her flip answer. Then, the amusement, if it had

been there at all, was gone.

"True," he acknowledged. "But, what other reason?"

"So I'll be safe, and nothing happens to me," Charlie admitted.

"Alright. Now, let's talk about trying to get out of a punishment," he said, and his expression became more

stern.

"I wasn't, Scott," Charlie protested.

"What was it, then?"

"Just an exception-" Charlie began, and then let her voice trail off as his eyebrow raised.

"An exception for tomorrow. And, if I did that, what do you think you would learn from it?" he asked.

Charlie studied him, wondering if it would irritate him if she gave another glib answer, or if she might

cause that amusement to flicker in his eyes again.

She decided to give it a try.

"I'd learn that you're understanding, and real nice," Charlie popped off, and waited for him to smile.

He didn't. Instead, he gave her a long look, and then sighed, as if she were trying his patience.

"Do you think this is something to make light of?" he asked her, his voice terse.

Charlie realized her mistake. Now, in her attempt to be humorous, she'd dug herself into trouble. She should have known better.

Scott was a serious person. And, while he could be as light-hearted as anyone else, when he was being serious, and somber,

that's what he expected of her, as well.

"No," Charlie said, and then, when his eyebrow rose higher in warning, she went on, "Well, I was making a joke, sort of, but

I shouldn't have."

"No, you're right. You shouldn't have," Scott said, and Charlie felt her reaction to the whole scolding change in that

moment. She'd been feeling sorry for herself. And, then, she'd tried to be funny, and cause Scott to perhaps smile. But, now,

she felt only badly, that she was in this position. To be getting scolded like this. And, regretful at her foolish attempts to

jolly her way out of things. And, too, she worried that he was going to punish her further.

"I'm sorry," she said, sincerely.

"For what, exactly?" he asked, not looking particularly impressed by her apology.

"For-making comments. As though I wasn't taking it all seriously," Charlie admitted.

"Are you able to take this talk we're having seriously, now?"

Charlie nodded, subdued. "Yes."

"Alright. When you're given a restriction on something, a consequence, then that's it. No wheedling, or attempting to

get out of any part of it. Do you understand?"

Charlie nodded again.

"Do I need to set out a consequence for if you do? Or are you going to be able to remember this conversation we've had?"

He looked still stern, and Charlie bit at her lower lip.

"I'll remember," she promised.

Scott regarded her for a long, long few moments, and Charlie had to force herself not to look away.

"Alright." He looked thoughtful, and then said, "I think another week is fair, to not ride your horse to school. So, next Monday, you

can ride in, and back home, alone again."

"Okay," Charlie said, feeling hopeful.

"After the week, if you do as you're supposed to, and come home on time, then that's when we'll talk about you doing things

with your friends after school again. Fair enough?"

"Yes," Charlie said, and gave him a tentative, genuine smile. "Thank you."

Scott nodded, and then said, "Stand up," to Charlie.

Charlie stood up, feeling timid again. Scott took her arm and positioned Charlie to stand directly in front of him.

"It's alright for you to be upset with me," Scott said. "And I want you to feel as though you can talk to me, about

however you're feeling. But, one thing-" he said, holding Charlie in place with his eyes. "Talking back is disrespectful, and

you're not to do it. And that includes muttering at me, or any adult, under your breath, like what you did earlier today. Got it?"

Charlie nodded, feeling as though she could tear up. And, that was silly. She didn't cry. Not like some sissy baby.

"I'm sorry I was disrespectful to you," she said, feeling ashamed.

"I accept your apology," Scott said.

Charlie nodded, still feeling all trembly. Not frightened of Scott. Just-trembly. She hated being scolded like this by Scott.

"Do I stay up here until supper?" Charlie asked, and she didn't say it in an attempt to sound pleading.

"No. I don't think you need to do that. Do you?"

Charlie shook her head, keeping her eyes on him.

"You can come down, and enjoy the rest of your day," Scott went on. "Before you do that, though, you have a mess in the kitchen

to clean up. And several spills on the stairs, too."

Charlie felt her face warm in embarrassment. She nodded in response.

"Okay," Scott said, and kissed the top of Charlie's head. As he moved, to stand up, Charlie wrapped her arms around

his neck, squeezing hard. Scott put his arms around her waist, returning the hug. Charlie felt, at that moment, full of emotion.

Even after the scolding, when Scott had given her that kiss on top of her head, that had made Charlie feel all funny inside.

Sort of mixed-up. Nearly like crying again. And, she didn't understand why, exactly.

Not letting go of him, Charlie squeezed tighter.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked,

"I don't know," Charlie admitted. She raised her head enough to look at him.

"Is there something else you want to talk to me about?" he asked, thinking that's what it was.

Charlie shook her head. "No."

Scott rubbed her back for a few moments, and then said, "Ready to go down, now?"

Charlie sighed. She still felt sort of funny inside, but not as though she wanted to cry any longer.

"I'm ready," she said.

L

To the guest reviewer who said that they felt this story was a tribute to Wayne Maunder, who portrayed Scott Lancer, I cannot express

how that made me feel. I hold it close to my heart, and wish I could thank you in a private message. If you feel comfortable sending me

a p.m., I would be thrilled to speak with you. Wayne Maunder WAS Scott Lancer. May he rest in peace.