Scott waited until Charlie got home from school the next day, to take the weekly food to Burl's shack. He had his horse saddled, loaded

with bags packed with food.

"Want to ride along with me?" he asked her, as she came up on Gurth.

"Yes," Charlie said, eagerly. "You have it all?"

Scott patted the bulging saddle bags. "Right here."

"What all did you pack?" Charlie asked.

"Some bread, some salt pork, a few potatoes, and a pie," Scott said.

"All of that in there?" Charlie asked, amazed.

"It's a tight squeeze, but it's all in there," Scott said. "Are you going to change your clothes before we go?"

"Yes," Charlie said, slipping down off of Gurth. "I'll hurry!"

When she'd changed, leaving her school clothes in a heap on her bedroom floor, Charlie flew back down the stairs, and

past Maria.

"Hola!" she called out.

Maria responded with the same greeting, and Charlie went outside, still on a run, to arrive breathless, and take Gurth's reins

from Scott. Scott, who'd been talking to Cip, looked amused at her dramatically hurried arrival.

"That was fast, huh?" she asked Scott, looking up into his tanned face.

"Faster than lightening," Scott said.

They set out, and Charlie found herself enjoying the ride immensely. It was nice, riding with Scott on such a nice day. It was warm, but not too

warm, with just the right amount of breeze. If she hadn't had the whole debacle with John to fret about, then Charlie thought she would

be absolutely happy and satisfied with life right now.

"It's nice today," Charlie said.

"Beautiful weather," Scott said in agreement.

"I like it when it's just you and me, sometimes," Charlie confided.

Scott turned to look at her, their horses side by side. "I like that, too," he said.

Charlie smiled at him.

"Anything you want to talk with me about?" Scott asked.

Charlie's heart leapt, thinking he was referring to John, and somehow knew about the whole 'magic' debacle.

"What do you mean?" she responded swiftly, and knew that it was the wrong way to reply when Scott looked puzzled.

"I didn't mean anything in particular," he said, mildly.

"Oh," Charlie said, and felt her face get warm.

"I meant with being here on the ranch, with me. And the rest of the family. If there's anything you want to discuss about it."

"Oh," Charlie said, again. She bit at her lower lip. "I love being here, with you. With everybody."

"Things seem to feel as though they're fitting together for you?" he asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yes."

"That's good," Scott said, sounding glad.

"Are things fitting together for you, too?" Charlie asked, feeling a bit anxious.

Scott smiled at her, and said, sounding reassuring, "They are."

After a couple of moments, Charlie said, "You don't go out much. With ladies, or even with Johnny. Is that because of me?"

"I might begin to go out more, at some point," Scott said, aware that Charlie was watching him with a bit of that anxiety. "But, I

haven't minded, being close at home."

"So, you don't feel as though you have to stay home with me?"

"No. I don't feel that way, Charlie."

"That's good," Charlie said, feeling relieved.

"Trying to get rid of me of an evening, huh?" Scott asked her, teasing.

Charlie met his teasing glance, and shook her head. "Noooo."

"I will be going to Stockton soon. Day after tomorrow."

"To meet with Mr. Beets, and the others?" she asked.

Scott nodded. "That's right."

"Will you be back that night?"

"No. Not until the next day."

"Oh." Charlie thought about that, feeling a little let-down, and not sure just why.

"Could I go with you?" Charlie asked then, impulsively.

"You have school," he reminded her.

"I could miss one day."

Scott regarded her seriously. "You don't need to be in any of those meetings, Charlie. When you're older, maybe. But, not now."

"That's alright. I don't want to be at the meeting. I just meant, I'd like to go with you. I could stay at the hotel while you're

talking to the board. Or I could sit in the bank lobby, and read until you were finished."

"That doesn't sound as though it'd be much fun for you," Scott said.

"It would be fun, to go with you," Charlie insisted. "Please, Scott?"

"I tell you what," he said. "I'll give it some thought. Alright?"

Charlie nodded, knowing that the best answer she was going to get right then. "Alright."

When they reached the road turning towards the shack, the sun had made a disappearance, and the sky was darkening.

"Is it going to rain?" Charlie asked.

"Looks like it might."

At the front of the cabin, the dogs set up a ruckus. Barking. Barking. Barking.

"He's not going to be the leprechaun," Charlie said, speaking of which of the two demeanors old Burl would be displaying.

Scott got off his horse, beginning to open the saddle bags. "Why do you say that?"

"Because the dogs are barking," Charlie said, as if that made total sense. "They don't bark if he's talking like a leprechaun, and being

friendly."

Scott began to pull things out, and Charlie went over, taking the pie and the bread from him.

The door to the shack opened. And, there was Burl, looking as unkempt as usual, and wiping his hands on a rag that

looked filthy to Charlie.

"Come again, have ya?" Burl said.

"We brought you some more food," Charlie said, as she and Scott stepped up onto the porch.

"Well, you might as well come in, since you're here," Burl said gruffly, and turned to go back inside.

As they prepared to follow him, Charlie looked up at Scott. "See? Not the leprechaun," she whispered.

Scott gave a slight shake of his head to warn her to be still.

They went inside, where the room seemed dark, what with the way the day was darkening outside.

Scott set the meat and potatoes on the heavily covered table, and Charlie did the same with the pie and bread.

"It's pie," she volunteered.

"What sort of pie?"

Charlie looked to Scott. She wasn't certain, since Maria had covered the pie carefully.

"Apple," Scott told Burl.

"I enjoy a good apple pie," Burl said.

He went and began to tinker about the stove, filling cups with coffee and bringing them over to the table.

"Take a load off," he said, and gestured to the spare chair as he sat himself in the other. "Have a sit-down."

Scott sat in the offered chair, and Burl waved at a wooden stool off to the side. "You kin set on that, if you've a mind to," he told Charlie.

Charlie went to get the stool, and placed it beside Scott. She sat down cautiously. It seemed to her that the stool had seen

better days. It felt rickety, as though it wouldn't hold her weight.

Scott was working his way thru the cup of steaming coffee, and then, with an ease that Charlie much admired, Scott

drew Burl into a conversation. A conversation about the rifle that leaned nearby.

"That's a trap-door Springfield there, isn't it?" Scott asked, gesturing towards the rifle.

"That it is," Burl said, looking a bit surprised. "You know it?'

"I've never had the pleasure of owning one, but I've heard a good bit about them," Scott said.

"Well, here," Burl said, reaching for the rifle, and handing it to Scott. "Take a closer look at 'er."

Scott took the rifle, holding it and looking it over. The two of them continued talking about the gun, and Charlie didn't understand

much of what they were discussing. She did know, though, that Burl was pleased as punch that Scott had recognized the rifle. It was, from

what Charlie overheard, somewhat of a rarity amongst guns.

The rain began to pelt down outside. Charlie began to fret about the horses.

"Will they be alright?" she asked.

Before Scott could answer, old Burl said, "You can store 'em in my shed out back."

Charlie hadn't known there was any outbuildings nearby. "I'll do it," she said, preparing to stand up.

"No. I don't want you to get soaked if you don't have to," Scott said. He got up, and Burl stood up as well.

"I'll show ya," Burl said, and pulled on a jacket hanging on the wall.

"Here," he said, taking down another, and offering it to Scott. "No sense in you gettin' soaked, neither."

Scott took the offered coat. "Thank you," he said, and pulled it on.

Charlie, still sitting on her wobbly stool, nearly giggled aloud, at the sight of Scott in the borrowed coat. It was, by far, too

small. Charlie reckoned at least two sizes too small. His arms exceeded well past the length of the sleeves, his forearms sticking out.

And his shoulders seemed too broad in the coat.

They went out into the rain together, but before he left, Burl ushered all three of the dogs inside the shack. Left alone with

the dogs, Charlie sat still, wondering if the dogs would take offense at her being there. Burl must not have thought so, or Scott, either, or

she wouldn't have been left alone with the dogs.

Two of the dogs went to lay in front of the stove. Only one came over to Charlie, sniffing in greeting.

Charlie reached out to rub the dog's ears. She was still doing that, when Scott and Burl came back into the shack.

They were taking off the jackets, and rehanging them.

"We'll need more coffee," Burl said, sounding positively jubilant. For Burl, that was. He passed by Charlie, saying,

"Lola likes ya. She don't usually take to folks."

"I like her, too," Charlie said, as Scott came to reclaim the chair he'd been sitting in earlier. He ran a hand thru his wet hair.

"She'll be havin' those pups of hers anytime now," Burl continued.

"She's going to have puppies?" Charlie asked, with excitement.

"She surely is."

"What will you do with more dogs?" Charlie asked, thinking that the shack was full enough, with the three big dogs already there.

"Charlie," Scott said, and Charlie knew that he thought she'd sounded rude in her questioning.

"The girl's right enough 'bout that," Burl said. "It gets mighty crowded in here, with all of 'em, and me, too. I reckon that we'll

just have to squeeze the pups in somehow." He brought the coffee pot to the table, and refilled Scott's cup with the brew. "Might be

that you could take one of 'em, if you've a mind to, missy."

Charlie sat up very straight, still rubbing Lola's ear. A puppy! Of her own! She'd never had such an opportunity.

Turning to Scott, she said, "Could I, Scott? Please?"

"We'll see," Scott said.

Now was not the time to wheedle. Charlie contented herself with going to sit on the floor with the dogs, envisioning herself

holding a fluffy, wriggly puppy.

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The rain showed no signs of relenting. Charlie and Scott ended up having supper with Burl. The cluttered, scarred table was

cleared, and set with plates that all had at least one chip in them. Burl served a stew that was surprisingly good. He set the

kettle in the center of the table, and spooned generous portions onto the cracked plates. Accompanied by the bread that

Maria had baked, it was a satisfying meal.

There was no milk, so Charlie drank water. From a cup that didn't appear to be very clean. But, she didn't let it bother her.

"I don't think I've ever tasted a better stew," Scott said, in compliment.

Again, it was obvious that Burl was pleased. "Squirrel makes a right tasty stew," he said.

Charlie couldn't remember ever having eaten squirrel before. She was glad that she hadn't found out until after she'd eaten it.

Finally, the rain seemed to admit defeat. There was still a mist in the air, but it wasn't too bad, and Scott said they should

take advantage of the lull and set out for Lancer.

As they rode away, Charlie looked back to see Burl standing on the porch in the dusky light.

"I think he's sorry that we're leaving," Charlie said.

"Could be."

"I'm glad I didn't know it was squirrel," Charlie said. "I don't know if I could have eaten it if I had."

"Well, now you know you like it," Scott said.

After a few minutes of quiet, Charlie said, "You looked sort of funny in that coat."

"It was a bit small, wasn't it?"

Charlie giggled. "Your arms were hardly covered at all."

"It kept some of the rain off. I was glad to have it."

It was quiet for a bit longer. Charlie thought they were nearly to the ranch.

Something was niggling at Charlie from the inside. Telling her to confess to Scott about John, and all that had

happened. It had been a wonderful afternoon and evening. Interesting, and somewhat out of the ordinary. She felt admiration

for Scott, and how he treated the old man, odd though he was. Scott had shown respect, consideration, appreciation, all of those

things, to Burl. She wished with all her being that there was nothing standing between her and the good feelings she

wanted to hold onto about going to Burl's with Scott.

Ah, but there was. And even if Teresa said nothing, it was bound to come out. What Charlie had done.

She had just about made up her mind to speak of it, when Scott spoke first.

"Do you have homework?" he asked.

"A little. Some arithmetic."

"When we get home, you can begin on that, while we get some water heated. I want you to take a bath, and get

warmed up, from being out in this weather."

"Okay," Charlie said. Riding side by side, Charlie swung her glance to her left.

"Have you ever played a prank on somebody?" she asked.

"No. I don't think I have."

"Not even when you were a kid?" Charlie asked, aghast.

"I wasn't all that mischievous, really. I was fairly intent on my studies. My grandfather would have frowned on any misbehavior,

anyway. I didn't like to face his wrath, so that kept me out of trouble, for the most part. "

"Oh," Charlie said, feeling deflated. It would have been easier to confess to Scott if he'd had a story or two of wrongdoing of his

own youth.

"It sounds like you were-" Charlie hesitated. "Perfect."

Scott chuckled. "I was far from that."

"You were sure real good, though," Charlie said.

Hearing something in her voice, attuned to her mood, Scott turned to meet her gaze.

"What's wrong, Charlie?" he asked.

Charlie met his eyes, resigned to her fate of confession. She sighed.

"I played sort of a trick on John," she said.

Scott studied her for a long moment, and then said, "I'm listening."

"I did that apple trick of Johnny's, and then I told him how many spelling words he missed on his paper, and now he thinks

that I can do magic," Charlie said.

"How did you know how about the spelling?" Scott asked.

"The papers blew off of Miss Susan's desk, and I was helping to pick them up. So I saw."

Scott looked thoughtful. "Well, that doesn't sound too terrible," he said, misunderstanding. "You shouldn't have repeated what you

saw when you picked up the papers, of course. But, you can explain it to him."

Charlie wished it was all as simple as that. If only it was. She was hesitating over how to continue when Scott, again

perceptively, said, "Is there more to it?"

Charlie nodded, regretful.

"Let's have the rest, then," Scott said.

"He thinks I can make things disappear, or reappear, like the piece of the apple. He wouldn't stop what he was doing, so I let

him think it."

Scott pulled his horse to a halt, and so Charlie did, too. Scott's look was intent, and Charlie felt like

squirming in the saddle. It was plain, quite so, that he expected her to expand on her explanation.

"He thinks I can make him disappear," Charlie admitted.

"You told him that?" Scott asked, sounding stern.

"No. Not exactly. I just told him that I could probably make other things disappear. He came to his own ideas." The defense sounded

weak to her own ears. Charlie knew that Scott would not be impressed by it. And, he was not.

"Split hairs, Charlie."

"What's that?" she asked.

"It means that you're trying to make distinctions when it's unnecessary," he said. "You knew what he would think when you said

that. That was the intent, correct?"

Charlie sighed. There was no point to denying it. "Yes."

"Well, that's not the right thing, Charlie. You know that it's not. So, tomorrow at school, you can explain things to him. How you did the

apple trick, and how you knew about his spelling. And then, you can apologize for the conclusion that you caused him to reach."

"I will, if I can," Charlie said.

"What does that mean?" Scott asked, sounding impatient.

"He hasn't been at school."

"Well, probably he'll be there tomorrow."

"I don't know-" Charlie said, sounding doubtful.

"You don't know, what?"

"Monte says he's afraid to come to school, because he thinks that I'll make him disappear," Charlie said, in a rush.

"How many days has he missed of school?"

"All week," Charlie admitted.

Scott was the one who sighed now, looking ahead to the road in front for a few moments, and then he turned back to

Charlie. "Alright. Here's what's going to happen. I'll take you to school in the morning, but before that, we'll go the house,

and you can talk to John there."

The thought of admitting her misdeeds to John was humiliating enough. But, the thought of having to do it at John's own

home, with his mother there, and maybe even his father, well, that was beyond horrible.

Charlie knew better than to plead, to ask if she really had to do this, but she did say, in a subdued tone,

"What if his father is there?"

"Then I guess he'll be there," Scott said, not sounding sympathetic.

Charlie bit at her lower lip.

"Are we clear on how it's going to go?" Scott asked her.

"Yes."

"Okay," Scott said, and urged his horse into motion again. Charlie did the same. She was wondering if Scott

was really angry, or just a little bit angry. She wondered if he was going to say or do anything more about this. Going to

have to unburden herself to John was punishment enough, Charlie felt. She was silent the rest of the ride home. She

wasn't about to ask any questions about the extent of his anger, or prompt him to speak of more punishment.

Once at the ranch, dismounted from the horses, Scott reached out to take Gurth's reins from Charlie.

"I'll take care of the horses. You head on in and get started on your schoolwork. Ask Teresa if she would please

start some water heating for your bath," he said.

Charlie set out for the house, and paused when Scott spoke, sharply. "Charlie."

When she had turned to look back at him, he said, "You need to answer me, so I know that you heard me."

"Yes. I heard you," Charlie said. Wonderful. Now, he was more aggravated with her.

"After your bath, we'll talk some more," he said.

"Alright," Charlie said, thinking to herself how quickly downhill a day could go.

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