"Did you mail your invitation to Beets?" Murdoch asked Charlie, that evening at supper.

"Yes. I did."

Johnny talked about what had happened in town earlier. When Teresa remarked that it was, most likely,

the raggedy old man who was the culprit, Charlie said, without looking up from her plate, "It could be anybody else. It doesn't

have to be him."

"I'm saying that it's possible," Teresa said.

"Still doesn't have to be him," Charlie said.

"I'm not going to argue with you," Teresa said.

"I'm not arguing. I'm just telling you that-" Charlie began.

"That's enough," Murdoch said, from his end of the table. Charlie wasn't sure if he meant it for her, or for both she and Teresa.

She looked up, and down the table at Murdoch. He was pouring more coffee for himself, and not looking at her. Scott had his

eyebrows raised at her, and Charlie looked away again.

Later, after supper, Johnny and Scott left together, to ride to a neighbor's ranch, and then, most likely, to go

get a beer afterward.

When Charlie was helping to clear the table, she took her opportunity to challenge Teresa again.

Teresa, busy preparing to dry the dishes as Maria washed, looked up in surprise as Charlie asked, "Do you believe

in innocent until proven guilty?"

"What?" Teresa asked.

"Isn't that what people are supposed to do? Be innocent until they're proven guilty?"

"Charlie, what are you talking about?" Teresa asked, sounding irritable.

"I just think it's unfair to judge somebody because of the way they dress, and how they look-"

Teresa stopped, and turned to face Charlie, frowning.

"I'm not judging anybody," she said.

"You said that it's the old ragged man who's doing the stealing in town-"

"Charlie, just stop. Alright? Let's not talk about it, anymore. Please."

"There's lots of people around that it could be, not just him-" Charlie persisted.

Maria said something sharp in Spanish. Charlie wasn't sure what it meant. Only one word, but the expression on

Maria's face spoke plainly enough. She meant for Charlie to hush it.

"I'm only just pointing it out-" Charlie said.

"Charlie," came a strong, booming voice, at the doorway of the kitchen.

Charlie whirled around so swiftly she nearly dropped the handful of cutlery she was holding.

Murdoch stood there, coffee cup in hand, his eyebrows drawn together, and disapproval on his face.

Wondering how long that Murdoch had been standing there, Charlie felt her face get warm.

"Put those down," Murdoch said, nodding to the silverware that she held.

Charlie obeyed, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Go to the library, sit down and wait for me," he said then, sounding stern. "I'll be right along."

Charlie felt her stomach do loop-de-loops. She didn't even look at Teresa or Maria as she passed. Murdoch seemed

to fill up the entire doorway. He stepped aside and Charlie went by him.

She went quickly enough to the library, and sat down on the sofa. Charlie had the strangest feeling then. Always before, the

library had been a welcoming, warm place to be. Right at this moment, it didn't seem so, though. It seemed not warm at all.

And ominous.

It wasn't long, and Murdoch appeared. He came into the library, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. Charlie sat up very

straight, and feeling very anxious.

He went to sit in the chair behind his desk, and took a drink from his cup. Then he set the cup down, and looked

at Charlie.

"Come here," he said.

To Charlie, feeling nervous, and even, if she would admit it, a bit frightened at the moment, his voice seemed curt. Terse.

She stood up, and went reluctantly to stand beside the desk.

Murdoch sighed. It was, Charlie thought, a very deep sigh.

He leaned back a bit in the big wooden chair, and surveyed her. Charlie prepared herself for his raised voice.

Instead, he said, quietly, "You were rude, just now. To both Teresa and Maria. Extremely rude."

Charlie opened her mouth, preparing to protest, or at least to explain, but then closed it again.

"You weren't going to say otherwise, were you?" he asked. There was a trifle of warning in his tone.

"Because," he went on, "If you were, that's going to make me very upset with you. You were rude, and there's

no saying otherwise."

Charlie was quiet, looking at Murdoch out of wide eyes.

Staying quiet didn't seem to be what Murdoch wanted, though.

"What do you have to say, young lady?" he asked, frowning.

"I was- trying to explain about not judging the man-" Charlie said.

"First of all, it's not your place to explain anything about proper behavior to Teresa," Murdoch said. "Or to any other adult. You

are a child, and that is not appropriate. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Charlie said, biting at her lip.

"Teresa is not the sort of person to judge someone on how they dress, or how they look," Murdoch said. "If she did say

something, she would be the first to admit she was wrong."

Charlie was silent, looking at him, and she could feel tears bubbling, near the surface.

"It seemed to me that you were wanting to continue an argument, and Teresa did not want to argue. Did she?" he asked,

sounding severe.

"No, sir," Charlie said.

"And then Maria told you to stop, and you kept on," Murdoch said, and he gave Charlie a less stern, and more sorrowful type

of look. "That was wrong, Charlie."

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, so softly it was nearly a whisper.

"It's not me who you need to say that to," he said.

"Okay," Charlie managed.

"You need to take care of that. Before Maria leaves to go home," he said.

Charlie nodded, tears squeezing out of her eyes, and she brushed at her cheek.

Murdoch reached into his pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief. He put one hand on her shoulder, to steady her, and with the

other he wiped her cheeks and her nose.

"Go and do your apologies," he told her. "And then come back."

Charlie trudged out of the library, and to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, trying to work up her courage. Both of the women

had their backs to her, and were talking, as they did the dishes.

"Excuse me," Charlie said, and both Maria and Teresa turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry I was arguing with you," Charlie said, looking at Teresa. "And, Maria, I'm sorry I didn't stop when you told me

to stop."

"It's alright, Charlie," Teresa said, and Maria nodded.

"Perdonado," Maria said.

Again, Charlie wasn't certain what that meant, but Maria was smiling. Just a little, but still a smile. So, Charlie thought it

was good.

She nodded, and turned to walk back to the library. At the door of the library, she paused. Murdoch was

sifting thru papers on his big desk, and he looked up.

He didn't say anything. He just crooked his finger, for Charlie to come to him.

Again, Charlie walked the distance to where he was. Her feet felt so heavy.

"Did you apologize?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, her eyes shiny with tears.

Murdoch lifted her up, onto his knee. "No need for more tears," he said, sounding gruff.

And then, after that, he was quiet. Silent. He patted her back for a bit, gently, and finally, Charlie relaxed enough

to lean back against him, and lay her head on his chest.

"It's a fine thing," he said, after the time of silence, "To think the best of other people, as you do. Even if there are folks who

disagree, and believe the worst. It's a sign of strength, Charlie."

Charlie, listening to his words, was quiet, but tilted her head upwards, to look into his face.

"I'm in no way saying that you should change that about yourself. It's to be admired. Sometimes, though, it

needs to be tempered with listening to advice from others. And, you can't go about arguing and behaving rudely

just to try to convince them that they're wrong, and you're right."

Murdoch rubbed his chin on the top of Charlie's head. "Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes, Murdoch."

"Alright, then. I expect you to behave better, and we'll say no more about it."

"What about Scott?" Charlie asked, worried. "Are you going to tell him that I was-being rude, and arguing?"

"I'll talk to him about it, yes," Murdoch said. "I'll also tell him that I did the necessary scolding."

Charlie let out a breath. Of relief.

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