Maria's cake was delicious, and Charlie enjoyed her piece of it. Still, though, the 'cake break' would have been much
better, she thought, if the conversation could have centered on the trunk contents.
Murdoch and Burl, however, talked of other things. Charlie finished her cake and sat on the floor with the
dog that was expecting the pups. Any time at all, Burl said, when Charlie asked him when he thought the puppies would
be born.
"Will you be takin' one of the pups?" the old man asked Charlie.
"I hope so," Charlie said. "Scott hasn't talked to me about it yet."
For a brief few minutes, sitting there petting the mama dog, and listening to the two men talking, Charlie
considered slipping outside, and taking another peek into that trunk. She turned the thought over in her mind, and
even stood up, and went to the door, looking out.
It was so tempting. Charlie was having to wage a battle within herself. Just a quick look, she told herself. What harm
would that do? Suddenly, Teresa was there, behind her, and giving her a little pinch.
"Ow," Charlie said, rubbing at her arm. "Why did you do that?"
"I'm saving you from a mess of trouble, that's what," the older girl answered, low.
Murdoch was standing up and heading to the door, as well, and Teresa pulled Charlie out onto the porch.
"What do you mean?" Charlie demanded, her voice low, too.
"I know what you were thinking of doing," Teresa said.
Instead of denying it, Charlie said, in a whisper, "Well, don't you want to look some more?"
"Shush," Teresa told her, as Murdoch came out, followed by old Burl.
As they prepared to leave, Teresa said, "Enjoy the rest of your cake," to Burl.
"That I will," the old man said.
"Maybe we can come back soon," Charlie said.
"Likely as not I'll be right here." Burl said.
"When can we come back, Murdoch?" Charlie asked, looking up at Murdoch. She was intent on getting a definite
answer to a return visit.
"We'll see," Murdoch said, non-committedly.
"Maybe tomorrow afternoon, when we take Mr. Beets back for the stage to Stockton?" Charlie suggested.
"We'll see what tomorrow brings," Murdoch said.
"It would be the perfect time, though," Charlie persisted. "I still think-"
Murdoch paused, and looked down at Charlie. Look at her was all he did, but it was quite enough. Charlie felt
her knees wobble and she hushed.
After that, Murdoch and Teresa said their good days to Burl, and Murdoch put the wagon into motion again, heading
towards town.
It wasn't that far at all, from the shack to town. Teresa and Murdoch talked a bit, but Charlie kept still. She was thinking
about the look that Murdoch had given her, and hoping that he wasn't going to say any more about her persistence a bit earlier.
She had the feeling that Murdoch would consider it as having been arguing. So, she kept still, with her hands folded in her lap,
trying to appear still and well-behaved, so that he might forget about his irritation at her.
At the train depot, Murdoch set the brake on the wagon, and Murdoch got down, holding out a hand for Teresa. Ordinarily, Charlie
would have jumped out all on her own. She didn't need any helping descending from the wagon. Not really. But, she waited until
Murdoch offered a hand to her, as well. That went along with her plan to appear lady-like and demure, so he wouldn't feel the need
to scold her.
No such luck. The stage had a bit of time before it was due to arrive, and Teresa lamented how good a cold lemonade would taste.
"Let's go and have one," she suggested to Murdoch.
Murdoch agreed, and they set off up the wooden sidewalk towards the café. Once they were seated at a table near the window,
Teresa saw a friend and excused herself to go and speak to the other girl. Charlie sat there at the small table, with Murdoch.
The chairs were high, and her feet were off the floor, so she swung them back and forth a bit, as the waitress brought their cold
glasses of lemonade.
"I know that you'll be spending time with Beets, as you should," Murdoch said, speaking quietly. "I think, though, that there will
be something extra included in your time this evening, as well."
Charlie gave him a glance, quizzical at the onset, and then more resigned. "Sir?" she said, in half-question.
"The fact that you're addressing me as 'Sir', shows that you're fully aware of what I'm talking about," he said.
At that, Charlie went silent, only surveying him from across the small table, her hand wrapped around the cold glass in front of her.
"Arguing with me is never going to end in success for you," Murdoch said.
Charlie gave a small sigh. "I know."
"Extra chores or writing lines?" he asked her then.
Charlie gave him a truly puzzled look at that question. "You're giving me a choice in it?" she asked, surprised.
"I think so."
Charlie still felt off-balance at this, and nibbled at her lower lip, looking at the older man.
"What chores?" she asked.
"I'll have to think about that," he said.
"How many lines would I have to write?" Charlie asked then.
"Hmm," Murdoch said, looking considering. "Well, I think fifty would be fair."
"Fifty?" Charlie asked, her voice sounding squeaky.
"Fifty."
Charlie met the eyes of the man across from her. He didn't look particularly angry. Just-well, just formidable.
She thought that fifty lines was quite a lot. More than Scott had ever made her do. It would be unwise to say that
to Murdoch, though. It would take her a long time to write that many lines. Maybe the extra chores would be preferable.
Still...depending on what the chores were, they might take just as long, and be just as tiresome as sitting on a hard chair
writing until her hand ached.
But, at least if she did the chores, she would be outdoors in the sunshine, most likely.
"I'll do the extra chores," she said, in decision.
"Alright. I'll think over it on the ride home, and let you know then what you need to do."
"Okay," Charlie said, reluctantly. She gave him a look, and nibbled at her lip again.
"I'm sorry for arguing, Murdoch," she said.
"I appreciate the apology."
Teresa was just coming back to join them at the table then, and sat in her chair just in time to hear Charlie say,
"It's so mysterious, though. All the things in Burl's trunks, I mean."
"It is mysterious," Teresa said, in agreement.
"Some things are better left to mystery," Murdoch said, and Charlie and Teresa exchanged a regretful look between them.
L
The stage arrived, and a weary-appearing Mr. Beets stepped down from it, shaking Murdoch's hand, and speaking to
Teresa and to Charlie.
The conversation back to the ranch was mostly between Murdoch and Beets. Charlie kept still. At Lancer, Johnny came from
the barn to give his greeting to Mr. Beets. Charlie hopped down from the wagon without waiting for assistance.
Lunch was to be ready very shortly, and Charlie headed towards the kitchen to wash her hands. As the others went into
the house ahead of them, Murdoch took Charlie aside, and told her that after the supper meal, it would be her job to
wash the dishes. Herself, only, with no one else's help. Knowing that Teresa had invited her suitor to join them as well, and one of
Murdoch's friends on a neighboring ranch was to be included, Charlie rapidly calculated in her head. Eight people! And all the dishes that went along with that!
"I'll let Maria know, so that she can go home a bit earlier," Murdoch was saying.
"That will take me all evening!" The protest escaped before Charlie could prevent it. She'd thought she would be assigned an extra chore outside, not be
stuck in the kitchen.
"A good reminder then," Murdoch said, not sounding at all sympathetic.
L