Things were a little different after that. Charlie wasn't sure just why exactly, but they were. She found she didn't have the
urge to be disobedient. At least not as often, anyway. Charlie decided that it made her feel really good inside, to do what
pleased Scott. And Murdoch. And, well, the whole family really.
She was helping Maria a couple afternoons after the birthday party. Helping to prepare the evening meal, and wearing her
new apron over the top of her denim overalls, she was kneading bread dough.
There was the sound of horse hooves and then men's voices. Charlie left her task and went to look out the back screened door.
"It's Mr. Val, come with Johnny," Charlie told Maria.
"Senor Val, pedirle que la cena," Maria said, without looking up from her stirring. Mr. Val, ask him to supper.
Cena. That was supper. And Senor Val was Mr. Val. So she meant ask him to supper, Charlie determined.
"Okay," Charlie said, and went out the door, walking across to where Val and Johnny stood talking.
"Well, hello, Just Charlotte," Val greeted her.
"Hullo, Mr. Val," Charlie returned the greeting. "Hi, Johnny."
"Hey, pequeno."
"Maria says to invite you to stay for supper," Charlie told Val.
"Well, how did Maria know that's what I was hoping for?" Val said. He reached out and touched Charlie's cheek. "What's this
all over your face?"
"Flour," Charlie said. "I'm helping to make the rolls."
"Ah. I see," Val said.
The rolls were prepared, and the table set, the evening meal put on it, and the family gathered around.
Val pronounced the rolls delicious, and showed it by eating three of them.
It was while the meal was being eaten, and enjoyed, that the conversation turned to events in town. Thefts had continued,
though they were odd ones. It was nothing big being stolen. More small items, and things that would not normally be considered
items often stolen. Dress goods from the mercantile, thread; horseshoes from the livery; dishes.
"What are you thinking, Val?" Murdoch asked.
"I can't put my finger on it," Val admitted. "It's nothing of great value at all. And there's never any locks broken for entry. It's as
though someone slipped in under the door, and then back out again."
"Puzzling," Murdoch said.
"And frustrating," Val added.
"And no clues?" Teresa asked.
"Not really."
"Well, enjoy your meal for tonight, and give your shoulders a rest from the burden," Murdoch advised him.
"I appreciate it," Val said. As they were finishing the meal, and getting to their feet, Val said, "It seems as though there's something
odd about the one set of footprints that I saw back of the mercantile. The morning after the dress goods went missing."
"What was odd about them?" Scott asked.
"One seemed heavier than the other one," Val said. "More sunk into the mud."
As the four men stood to make their way to the library, to talk and have a drink or two, Teresa and Charlie began clearing the table.
"You'll have to help me with the dishes," Teresa said. "Maria went home."
Charlie would have preferred going to the library, as well, so that she wouldn't miss any of the interesting conversation
about the mystery in town.
"I've done dishes for the last two nights," Charlie protested.
"You can still help me," Teresa insisted.
"I helped with them while you were out with-" Charlie began.
"Charlie," Scott spoke quietly, and she looked towards him. She hadn't heard him step back into the dining room.
He picked up the cup of coffee that he'd left on the table, still half-full.
"You can help Teresa with the dishes," he said.
Charlie swallowed her complaint, and said only, "Okay," though not happily.
"When you're done, you can bring the pie in, and have a piece with us," he said.
Charlie nodded in agreement, and Scott took his coffee and went on.
She looked at Teresa swiftly, to see if she seemed triumphant, but Teresa wasn't paying any attention, it appeared.
She was busy carrying dishes to the kitchen, and began preparations to wash them. It didn't really take that long to
do them, and Charlie got a tray, loading it with the blackberry pie, plates, and forks to take to the library.
"Here," Teresa said. "You don't want to forget a knife to cut it." She laid a knife on the tray as well.
"I'll finish these up," Teresa said, looking at the few dishes that were left. "I know you want to get in there so you
can hear all the criminal talk."
"It's interesting," Charlie defended herself.
"I know. Go on. Take the tray with you."
Charlie carried the heavy tray carefully to the library. When she reached the room, Johnny stood up, and came to
take the tray from her, setting it on the table in front of the settee.
When he'd done that, and gone back to sit down, they all went on talking, and Charlie hesitated.
"Go on and cut the pie for us, darling," Murdoch told her.
Charlie nodded, and, feeling grownup, she sliced the pie into generous pieces, and scooped them onto
individual plates, handing them out to each of the men in the room.
"Did you bake this too, kiddo?" Val asked her.
"No. I don't know how to make pie yet," Charlie said. She took a plate with a piece for herself then, and went
to sit between Johnny and Val.
The talk was on other things. The price of cattle. The wetter than usual weather. Then it returned to the
thefts in town.
"Folks are getting right irritated," Val said. "Can't figure out what's taking me so long to solve it."
"There's always somebody who thinks they'd do a better job," Johnny said.
"In this case, more than just one somebody," Val said.
"What would cause the one footprint to be different from the other?" Charlie asked.
"Hard to say. Could be lots of different reasons," Val told her. "It might be even just the way I was looking at it."
"Oh," Charlie said, licking the blackberries off her fork.
Val went on to say that the old man from the edge of town had been chased off again recently, after going thru the
bins outside of the café, and the mercantile.
"I think he's looking for food to eat," Charlie said, and immediately saw that she had all of the attention.
"It's possible," Val said. "He's sure a nuisance to the shop owners."
The clock struck seven, and Scott said, "Do you have schoolwork to finish?" to Charlie.
She did. She had handwriting and spelling.
"A little," Charlie said.
"Well, gather it up, and get started on it," Scott said.
"I'm not finished with my pie," Charlie said.
"When you're finished with your pie, then."
Charlie nodded, and took her time eating what was left. Even though the conversation went on to something else, it
was still interesting. And, preferable to doing spelling.
It was nearly seven-fifteen when Scott spoke to her again. "You're finished with your pie. Go do your homework."
Charlie sighed a little, but got obediently to her feet.
As she went out of the library, she heard Val said something about 'precocious'. Charlie determined to look up
that word as soon as she was able to.
L
It was before she left for school then next morning that Charlie had the opportunity to take down the dictionary in
the library. She had only a moment or so before Teresa called to her. The only definition she saw beside the word
'precocious' was 'sassy', 'inopportune', 'unseasonable', 'quick'. That was all she had a chance to skin over before
Teresa appeared at the door of the library.
"It's time for you to go, now," Teresa said. "You're going to be late. What are you doing, anyway?"
"Just looking something up," Charlie said, and replaced the dictionary on its correct shelf.
"Well, hurry up."
Charlie rode to school, not hurriedly. Thinking over what she'd heard, and then read.
So that's what Mr. Val thought of her, was it? That she was, unseasonable, and sassy? And quick? Did that mean he
thought she could run fast, or what? And what did inopportune mean? But, sassy. He thought she was sassy. So, he must
not like her as much as he'd let on.
Charlie thought she might ask Miss Susan about it at school. But, there was a substitute that day. Mrs. Delweiler from church, and
Charlie didn't feel comfortable enough to ask.
When school was over, she was beginning her walk to the livery to get Gurth, when Monte and John passed by her. John
ran on, merely turning to poke out his tongue at her. Monte, however, paused and began walking backwards, beside Charlie.
"You hear about your old man?" he jeered.
Charlie flicked him a glance. "What are you talking about?"
"The old man. The one you always take up for. He got run off with a gun from the livery the other day. The fellas there
are right tired of him hangin' around. Tryin' to steal. They figure he'll be tryin' to take a horse next."
Charlie gave Monte a look of disgust, but said nothing.
"You'd better watch out for that butt-ugly horse of yours," Monte continued to taunt. "Even though he's ugly,
that old man might think he'd be good eatin'."
"Shut up, Monte," Charlie said.
"Gonna make me?" Monte asked, and reached out and pulled one of Charlie's braids.
That did it. Charlie reacted, reaching out to give Monte a smack on his shoulder, hard enough to cause his eyes to
widen.
"Now you did it," Monte threatened. "I don't care if you are a girl! I'm gonna pound ya!"
"All by yourself?" Charlie said. "Don't you need your little brother to help you?"
Charlie didn't know if Monte would have pulled his fist back and socked her or not. She wasn't sure what she would have
done if he had. No decision had to be made, because a strong hand closed around Monte's wrist.
"That's enough," the voice said, and both children looked up to see Val's face. Serious and not-so-happy appearing.
"She's always runnin' her mouth to me!" Monte said, getting in the first complaint.
"There's not going to be any fisticuffs in the street today," Val said. He gave Monte a shake. "You get on home, Monte."
Monte took a few steps, and then said, "Thinks she's the boss of me, but she ain't!"
"Zip your mouth, and get home, or I'll have a talk with your Pa," Val told him.
With a last sullen glare at Charlie, Monte took off, running towards the nearest alley.
Once Monte had disappeared, Charlie and Val regarded each other for a moment or so.
"You alright?" he asked Charlie, with a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Looked as though the two of you were
going to rowdy it up."
Charlie shrugged. "He's an ignoramus."
"Ignoramus, huh?" Val asked.
Charlie looked away from Val's face, and said, "Well, bye," and began walking on towards the livery.
Val kept step with her easily, continuing to walk with her.
"How about an ice cream cone, or a cold lemonade?" he offered.
"No, thank you," Charlie said. "I have to get home."
"Those rolls sure were good last night at supper."
"Maria did most of it," Charlie said, and walked faster. "You should thank her, not me."
"Hey, now," he said. "Where's the fire?"
"I can't be late," Charlie said, still avoiding his eyes.
"You sure you're alright?" Val asked, sounding concerned.
"For somebody who's quick, and unseasonable," Charlie muttered, and went into the livery.
"Howdy, Charlie. Howdy, Sheriff," the stable hand greeted.
"Hey, there, George," Val said.
As Charlie would have gone to fetch Gurth, Val put a restraining hand on her arm.
"George, would you mind getting the horse out and saddled? I want to talk to Charlie for a minute," he said.
"Sure thing, sheriff," the man said, agreeably.
Charlie swept her eyes up to Val's. "I have to go," she protested.
"And you're going to. As soon as George has your horse saddled. I want to talk to you." And, with that, Val steered her
back outside the livery and around to the side for privacy.
"Did Monte say something else to upset you that you're not telling me about?" he asked.
"No."
"Well, what's the trouble then? You don't seem yourself."
Charlie shrugged, looking at a spot over his shoulder instead of at him.
"What'd you mean by earlier, saying you're 'unseasonable'?" Val asked then.
"It's just a definition," Charlie said vaguely.
Val sighed a little. "Are you upset with me about something? Because, if you are, I thought we were good enough
friends that you could talk to me."
Well, that reached her. Charlie looked back directly at him again. His face was serious, but kind. As she was hesitating,
he said, "Was I wrong about that? About us being friends?"
"I thought we were," Charlie said, still stubbornly. "I guess I'm not so sure."
"Alright," Val said, not looking or sounding quite so patient. "If you want to stand here and talk in riddles to me, then
I guess there's nothing I can do about that. Let me know if you change your mind. Alright?"
As he turned, to begin his walk back across the street again, Charlie said quickly, "You said I'm precocious."
Val paused, and turned back. "What?"
"Last night. You said I was precocious. I heard you."
Val took the few steps back over to her. "What's wrong with that?" he asked.
"I just don't think it's very nice of you," Charlie said, bravely.
"You don't, huh?"
Charlie shook her head.
"What do you think it means?" he asked then.
"It means unseasonable, and inopportune, and-" she hesitated. "And sassy!"
For a long moment, Val regarded her seriously. "You're being a bit sassy right now," he said, and Charlie
felt her face get all hot with embarrassment.
"I guess you can tell Scott that then," she accused, and turned to look away.
"I guess I could," he agreed. "But, let me ask you something first. Did you look precocious up in the dictionary?"
"Yes. This morning," she said.
"Did you finish reading everything it had to say?"
"No. I had to go. Teresa kept hollering at me."
"Well, maybe you should read the rest of it when you get home, then. It also happens to mean quick, intelligent, clever, beyond your
years. All of that."
"It does?" Charlie asked, more subdued.
"It does."
"Oh."
"Uh huh."
Charlie swiped at her face, which still felt warm. "You think I'm that stuff?"
"Yes. I do."
"Oh."
"It was meant as a compliment, Charlie."
"I'm sorry," Charlie said, looking him in the eye. "For being sassy to you."
"I accept your apology." He smiled at her.
Charlie smiled back.
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