That night, as Scott was finishing his task of dressing for the evening out, Charlie sat in the middle of his large bed, watching.
Scott stood in front of the mirror at his dressing table, doing up his tie.
"You look very nice," Charlie told him, and Scott looked at her in the reflection of the mirror.
"Well, thank you."
"What's the lady's name? The one you're having dinner with?" she asked him.
"Hallie."
"That's a pretty name. I wonder if it's short for something."
"I don't know," he said, and turned from the mirror to face her. "Maybe I'll find that out tonight."
He picked up his jacket and began to put it on.
"Have you ever been engaged?" Charlie asked him.
"No. I haven't."
"Do you think you might be, though, sometime?"
"I don't know. I might be. Sometime."
"Oh," Charlie said, sounding contemplative, and Scott thought, a bit worried as well.
"This is just a supper tonight, Charlie," he said. "That's all."
"I know," she said, ducking her head, and looking embarrassed. She began to pick at the quilt on the bed with her fingers.
Scott came over and sat down on the bed beside her. "If I ever did meet somebody, that I found things in common with, and
that I enjoyed being with, that I loved, well, that wouldn't be a sudden thing. It would be a process. And you'd know about it, too, right
as it came along. It's not something that I would just spring on you without warning."
"I know," Charlie said, again.
"And, anybody that had that place in my life, well, they would know from the very beginning about you," Scott went on, quietly.
"They would?" Charlie asked, looking at him, her eyes wide.
"Sure, they would."
"You'd tell them about me? Just like that?" she asked, sounding a bit incredulous.
"Maybe not until after we've been introduced," Scott said, with humor. "But, right along there somewhere, yes."
"What if they didn't like the idea of it?" she asked then. "The idea of me?"
"Well," Scott said, reaching up and wrapping one of her auburn curls around his finger. "They wouldn't be the right
lady for me, then."
Charlie rewarded his words with a smile full of sunshine.
"Feel better?" he asked her.
"Yes. And I really do hope you have a good time tonight," she told him.
L
Scott did have a fine time. Such that he and Miss Hallie Lyons made plans to see one another again, when she visited the
next month.
L
On Monday morning, after breakfast, Scott caught a moment with Charlie before she left for school on Gurth.
"Home after school," he reminded her. "Everyone is going to be busy elsewhere around the time you get home. So, you'll be
on your own for just a bit."
"What about Maria?" Charlie asked.
"Her sister's ill, so she'll be helping her this afternoon and evening, and Teresa has a tea or something to attend." He paused in
thought. "I suppose you could go over to where she's at, when you get out of school. I hadn't thought of that."
"Oh, Scott!" Charlie burst out, impassioned. "Don't make me do that! Please."
Scott looked amused. "The thought of a ladies tea doesn't impress you, hmm?"
"I can come home and be on my own, really, I can!" she implored.
Scott looked down at her, serious again.
"Jelly will be about somewhere, and if you had any problems, you could ask one of the hands to come find me. Johnny and I will be
working to the north."
"Yes, alright," Charlie said. "I won't have any problems, though, I know."
"I'm trusting you," he said. His tone was quiet, but his meaning plain.
Charlie nodded solemnly. "Yes."
L
After school some of the other children were planning to get up a game of Rueben and Rachel, (variation of Blind Man's Bluff). While Charlie
would have liked to have stayed and participated, she found that she didn't really mind so much. At least, today. She wanted to do as
she'd promised, and show Scott she could be trusted. So, she said goodbye, and set out for the ranch.
It was a beautiful afternoon, just the right amount of wind. Enough, but not too much. Gurth was enjoying the ride, too. Charlie could
tell that. She talked to the horse all the way home, just as if he'd been another person.
Once at home, she unsaddled Gurth, fed him an apple from one of the trees, and turned him out to pasture with the
other horses. She put away her tack, thinking she would see Jelly about somewhere. But, the old man was not within sight.
Charlie took her books and lunch pail into the kitchen, and set them on the table. She washed her hands and then began to
look about for an after-school snack. Maria had left cookies on a platter, and Charlie took two of those, and a glass of milk.
She changed to her comfortable and preferred overalls, and then debated about what to do with all the unaccustomed
freedom of being on her own in the large house.
An idea occurred to her, and Charlie felt excitement rising. Just to make certain, she returned to the kitchen, and began investigating
what might have been prepared by Maria for supper that evening, and put away.
She found sandwich makings and fruit that had been cut up.
Charlie considered, and then went to look in the wooden icebox. She found thick pork chops there, eight of them. She thought it over. That
would be two apiece for the Lancer men, and one each for she and Teresa. That was the usual way of it.
Feeling emboldened, Charlie took them out and set them on the kitchen table. She surveyed the cook stove.
"You don't scare me," she said, to the stove.
She went to gather some firewood from the pile out back, and opened the iron door. The heat was still there, but not high. Charlie
put in the three small sticks of wood, and then took the poker, and stirred up the embers. There was a waft of smoke, but Charlie shut
the door firmly, and then proceeded to locate an iron skillet. She layered the pork chops into the skillet, and then set about slicing
some of Maria's homemade bread. She would, Charlie determined, have a delicious supper awaiting the members of the family when
they all returned to the house. Charlie couldn't help feeling excited at the thought of surprising them.
She made coffee, too, and put it on the stove. Not certain just how much coffee to add, she erred on the side of generous. Just
to be sure. Murdoch liked his coffee strong. As he often said, 'strong enough to walk'.
Charlie turned to look at the stove, pausing in her bread slicing.
There was more smoke, not less. Laying down the knife, she went to open the door again, poking at the embers with the poker.
She studied it, puzzled. There didn't seem to be much happening. The fire wasn't any stronger than before. And the smoke! It
wafted out into the room, and Charlie coughed, closing the door again in a hurry.
She stood there, debating about what to do. She'd done everything, she was sure, just as she'd seen Maria do.
She coughed again, and went to poke at the pork chops with a fork. There was not much indication that they were cooking.
Not sure what to do next, she opened the stove door again, poking, poking, poking. The fire seemed to be minimal. Charlie almost
felt as though the stove was laughing at her.
"You're not going to defeat me," she muttered. "Start doing what you're supposed to!"
The smoke in the room was very definite now. Charlie shut the stove door again, and went to open the kitchen door, propping it open so that
a breeze might come in, and some of the smoke go out.
Debating, Charlie thought she'd try more wood. Maybe that wood had been damp or something. In reality, she knew better. It
hadn't been damp. It had been hot all day. Still, she was trying to decide things in her mind. She went to gather four more smaller
pieces of wood, and opened the door, pushing them in hurriedly.
The smoke that came out made her eyes water, and her throat hurt. Frightened now, Charlie thought she'd go and find Jelly.
She went outside, and then ran to the barn, and around the corrals. No sign of the old man anywhere.
She yelled out to him, but there was no answer. In the distance, Charlie could see some mounted men on horseback. She could, she
thought, run to ask them for help. The ranch hands. She cast a glance towards the house. Smoke was drifting out the open door now.
In frustration and fear, Charlie scrambled over the fence, and began to run towards the men.
One of the riders was galloping, in the front. Charlie found she had to stop and catch her breath. Or try to.
When she saw that it was Johnny, she felt glad and scared, at the same time.
"Johnny-you've got to come!" she managed breathlessly.
Johnny was off his horse, and beside her, his hands on her shoulders. "What is it?" he demanded.
"The stove-" Charlie said, and turned to point towards the house.
From where he was, Johnny saw, and got back on his horse, pulling Charlie up in front of him. Once at the corral, he
swung down, and headed towards the house at a sprint. Charlie dismounted, and ran, too.
Bursting into the kitchen, Charlie saw that Johnny was already at the stove, and seemingly calm.
"Go fetch a newspaper," he told Charlie. "We'll see if we can't get some of this smoke fanned out."
Charlie took a hurried few moments, to run and get a newspaper from the hall table, and ran back with it.
"Just stand there, by the door," Johnny said, "And fan it outside."
Charlie did that, while Johnny opened the windows wider. The smoke was beginning to dissipate by now.
"You can stop," Johnny said. "It'll clear out on its own now."
Charlie stood there, the newspaper dangling from her hand, and promptly burst into tears.
Johnny came over, to bend down to her eye level. "Don't cry, pequeno. It's alright."
Charlie regarded him with wide tear-filled eyes. "It's not alright! I set the house on fire!"
"Aw, you did no such thing," he denied.
"What, then?" she asked, thru her tears. "I thought it did it right!"
"You just didn't open the damper, that's all."
"Damp-damper?" Charlie asked, her words halting.
"Yeah. Damper." Johnny stood up, going to the stove, and motioning to the damper. "It makes the smoke go up the chimney like
it's supposed to."
"I-I didn't know!" Charlie wailed.
"It's alright," he said, again, and came over, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, and tugging her down to sit on his knee.
"Everyone will be-mad at me!" Charlie insisted, sobbing.
"No, they won't. There's no harm done. Just a little smoke."
The sound of voices, and swiftly-approaching footsteps just outside had Charlie sitting up straight on Johnny's knee, and looking
to the doorway with dread.
"What's happened?" Murdoch thundered, his voice booming. "What's all this?"
Beside him was Scott, who immediate response at seeing Charlie sitting there with Johnny, her face blotched with tears, was
concern for her.
"Are you alright?" he asked Charlie.
"She's fine," Johnny said, answering for her.
"What's happened?" Murdoch asked again.
"A misunderstanding between the kid, and the stove," Johnny said lightly.
"Oh," Murdoch said, still looking slightly puzzled and stunned.
"What were you doing, Charlie?" Scott asked, and Charlie thought he sounded cross.
"I-wanted to make supper for everybody! As a surprise! And-I put the wood in and everything, but then it started
just smoking the kitchen up."
Both Scott and Murdoch were silent for a long few moments.
"Is that something you should have been doing?" Murdoch asked, tersely.
Charlie was silent, and Murdoch prompted, "Was it?"
"No, sir, I guess not," Charlie said, and a fresh onslaught of tears began.
"She was just tryin' to do somethin' nice, Murdoch," Johnny said, in defense.
Scott reached down and took Charlie's hand, pulling her to her feet. He circled his arm around her.
"It's alright," he said, and Charlie, grateful for his calm tone, wrapped her arms around his waist.
"I just wanted to make you proud of me!" she said, looking up at him.
"I am proud of you," Scott said. "Your intentions were good." He patted her back. "You might need to have a few lessons, though,
before you attempt to cook by yourself again. Okay?"
Charlie nodded. "Yes, Scott."
"What was it that you were preparing for us?" Murdoch asked. Charlie was glad to hear the terseness gone from his tone.
"Pork chops," Charlie said, and gestured. "And bread. And I made coffee."
"Well, that sounds like a fine supper," Murdoch said.
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