During lunch Charlie was quieter than was usual, but found even the dread of all those masses of dishes later was not a deterrent to

her appetite. She ate two pieces of roast beef, and two biscuits, smothered in pear jelly. Mr. Beets had already changed to

his casual clothes, the sort that he wore when at Lancer. Gone were the suit and bow tie, replaced by denim work pants and a button-up

shirt. He looked, Charlie thought, like a gentleman rancher.

Charlie would have liked it if Teresa had brought up all those beautiful bolts of material that they'd seen in Burl's

trunks. But, Teresa didn't bring it up, and so Charlie didn't either. She would, she thought tell Scott about it later on.

Once lunch was finished, Beets suggested a walk, or a ride, with Charlie, and so, they set off together, across the fields. Armed

with a canteen of water, and Beets' book on flowers and plants.

Beets patted the knapsack he carried over one shoulder. "Maria took care to send some cookies with us, in the event we

needed sustenance."

He sounded extremely pleased, and Charlie smiled a little. She had observed over the past few months that Mr. Beets

had a real fondness for sweets.

"You like Maria's cookies, don't you?" she asked him.

"I do enjoy the cookies," Beets confirmed. "And the pies, and the cakes..." He smiled at Charlie.

"Johnny has a real sweet tooth, too," Charlie shared.

"I've noticed that."

After that, the two of them worked on identifying several plants. It was mid-afternoon, and they'd enjoyed a snack break of

cold water and Maria's oatmeal-raisin cookies, sitting on a fallen log.

He asked Charlie how she'd enjoyed the rest of her overnight trip with Scott when they'd come to Stockton. Charlie told him about

where they'd had supper, and the gifts that she and Scott had exchanged.

"I guess you know about the locket," Charlie said, reaching up to touch the locket around her neck. "Since you were the one

that Katherine brought the jewelry to."

"Yes, I knew about it. Did you see the rings as well?" he asked.

"Scott showed them to me, but he put them away. He said he'll keep them for me. He thinks I'm too young to have

them right now."

Beets nodded, looking as though he approved. "That sounds sensible."

"Katherine never said anything to me about having any of my mother's jewelry," Charlie said.

"It seems as though there were many things that Katherine never discussed with you," Mr. Beets said.

Charlie wondered at that. It was true enough. She wondered if there was something more to it than that.

She studied Mr. Beets, as he began to gather up their things, to prepare to walk back.

"Is there more? Jewelry of my mother's, I mean?" she asked.

"I think that there might be. I'll speak to Katherine about it."

They began to walk again then, turning back in the direction of the house.

"Do you have children?" Charlie asked, realizing that she really didn't know much about Mr. Beets.

"No, I don't."

His tone had sounded sort of sad to Charlie, and she wondered if she shouldn't have asked.

When he went on talking, though, she thought it must be alright.

"My wife and I had hoped for children, but I feel fortunate to have had a wonderful life with her. She passed away nine

years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Charlie said, and she was. "It must be lonely." It made her sad, to think of Mr. Beets, sitting alone in

his house at night, with no family.

"It does get lonely at times," he verified. Then he gave Charlie a smile. "I have some dear friends, that I enjoy spending time

with. That helps with the loneliness."

"You mean Murdoch, don't you?" Charlie asked, feeling pleased.

"Murdoch. Scott. You and Johnny and Teresa. All of you."

"I'm awfully glad," Charlie said. Then, without really thinking it out, she added, "I was lonesome, too, before I came here

to live."

"I'm sorry for that, Charlotte," Beets told her. "I believe that I was remiss in my duties where you were concerned. I should

have spoken more in-depth with you during the times that you came into the bank with Katherine."

"Scott says it was partly my responsibility," Charlie told the older man. "He says I could have spoken up to you, and talked

to you about how I was feeling."

Beets nodded. "Well, I'm pleased that we're able to talk with one another much better now."

"Yes," Charlie agreed. "Except-well, it really wouldn't have done any good to have said that I was lonely, or didn't like

living with Katherine. I mean, it wasn't as though I had anywhere else to go. Or anyone else that wanted me."

The expression on Beets face spoke of his sadness at her comment. "Ah, Charlotte," was all he said.

"It's alright, Mr. Beets," Charlie told him. "Things are different now."

L

Maria outdid herself with the supper meal preparations. There were chicken and dumplings, plates of vegetables and

fruits, cheeses, and two different types of pies and a cake.

Charlie ate her fill, listening to the various conversations going on around her at the table. Teresa seemed almost

starry-eyed when she looked at her beau, Don. The neighbor that had been invited was an older man, called Whittiker. He was a loud-voiced

man, who seemed to carry much of the conversation.

When they all rose to their feet, preparing to head towards the library for coffee and brandy, Charlie surveyed the dishes on

the table. She began to clear the table, making trip after trip to the kitchen carrying plates, glasses, silverware, platters. She put the

water to boiling, to fill the sink.

She put away the food that was left, though, with that many folks having eaten, it wasn't much at all.

Then she began scraping the plates, and by the time the water was hot, she finally was able to begin with the washing up.

It seemed every time she thought she was making progress, even a bit, she would turn and there would be

more dishes that she hadn't seen. When she'd worked her way thru the glasses, the cups, the silverware, then she had to stop and

dry them. She'd run out of room in the dish rack. By then the water was getting cooler, so more had to be put on to boil.

While she was doing that, Charlie realized that she would have all the pots and pans to wash, as well. She'd been determined not

to be daunted, but it was difficult not to be.

Teresa came into the kitchen then, to put cups and the coffee pot onto a tray to take to the library.

"How's it going?" Teresa asked, fluttering around the kitchen.

"That's a useless sort of a question," Charlie said.

"I'm sorry," Teresa said, looking around at all the dishes still to be done. "It was a silly question, wasn't it?"

Charlie shrugged, and began to pour hot water into the sink again.

"It's a hard job to do alone," Teresa said, sounding sympathetic.

Then, preparing to take the tray, she said, "I tried to get you to ease off from testing Murdoch the way you were doing-"

"I don't need you to say 'I told you so'," Charlie said crossly.

"When are you going to learn?" Teresa talked on. "He can't be pushed and challenged like you were doing today-"

"I understand that!" Charlie said, raising her voice, and setting the tea kettle down with a slam. "If I didn't before, I

sure do now!"

At Charlie's outburst, Teresa's face softened. "You'll get thru it alright," she said, in encouragement.

"By tomorrow morning, maybe," Charlie said, glumly.

"Not that long," Teresa said, smiling. As she took the loaded tray to go back out of the kitchen, she said, "I'll make sure

to save you a piece of pie or cake. Alright?"

"Alright," Charlie said, and, left alone in the large, silent kitchen once again, Charlie began on the plates. She

began to feel sorry for herself. Murdoch didn't need to have been so severe, she thought. Charlie was muttering to

herself when she heard someone coming into the kitchen.

When she turned to look, she saw that it was Scott. He was carrying the tray, with the coffee pot and empty cups on it.

He came in without saying anything at first, going to set the coffee pot on the stove. Then he brought the platter of cups

over to set it on the kitchen counter.

"How're you doing?" he asked. He asked it quietly, and his voice was kind.

"Just trying to get them all done," Charlie said.

"Mmm," Scott said.

Charlie risked a closer look upwards at him. "Are you going to punish me, too?" she asked, and then wondered why on

earth she'd asked that at all.

Scott shook his head. "No," he said. "I think Murdoch took care of it fine enough."

At Charlie's relieved nod, Scott reached out to tip her chin up. "Lesson learned about arguing with an adult?"

"Yes," Charlie said.

"Alright," he said. He tapped the end of her nose lightly.

After Scott had gone, to return to the library to join the others, Charlie worked on, grimly determined. She could hear voices from the

front hall, and then the door closing. Someone must be leaving for their home already. The neighbor, or Teresa's beau.

That's how long she'd been stuck here in the kitchen. Working away.

Charlie was ready for the pots and skillets. She sighed, thinking she would have to stop once again, to dry the dishes that

were overflowing in the dish rack before she could continue.

The sound of a heavier foot came into the kitchen, and Charlie pushed her hair from her face with a soap-covered hand.

It was Murdoch. A cup in his hand. He went to the stove and poured coffee from the pot into the cup.

And then, to Charlie's surprise, he came over, set the cup down again, and took up the drying towel, and began to dry plates.

Surprised, actually shocked, Charlie watched him, drying one plate, and then another.

Meeting Murdoch's gaze, she gave him a slight smile, and he smiled in return. A shared smile of understanding, of

affection.

Charlie returned to scrubbing the skillets, her heart suddenly lighter.

L

It was at breakfast the next morning that the subject of the contents of Burl's trunks could finally be discussed. With just the

family, and Beets around the breakfast table. It began by Scott asking about how Burl had been faring the previous day.

Teresa wasted no time, (which Charlie was glad about), in informing Scott and Johnny and Beets about the vast amounts

of expensive materials in the trunks.

"You should see it," Teresa was saying, with enthusiasm. "Brocade, masses of it."

Johnny reacted in a manner similar to that of what Charlie had expressed the day before. "What's that? Brocade?"

Teresa explained it swiftly, and Johnny asked, "What's he doin' with all of that, in trunks that way?"

"We don't know," Teresa said. "He was looking for something-a book, I think, and then he got sidetracked."

"The girls didn't get an opportunity to question Burl like they wanted to," Murdoch said, but he said it lightly, with a

slight smile, and Charlie could tell he wasn't really irritated.

"Teresa says it's all worth a lot of money," Charlie contributed to the conversation.

"The way he lives, and he's got somethin' worth money like that?" Johnny said, sounding incredulous.

"Exactly," Teresa said, in agreement.

"Maybe he has a good reason for keeping it," Scott suggested mildly.

"What reason could he have?" Teresa protested, and Charlie leaned forward in her chair, eager to hear what Scott might

say.

"I don't know," Scott said, still looking slightly amused. "Maybe he keeps it there so he can rev up the curiosity of nosy

girls."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Murdoch added, teasingly.

"I'm just thinking, with the way he doesn't always have much food to eat, and the way he dresses-" Teresa began, "Well, he

could sell just a little of that brocade, and be able to live decently for a change."

"You'd have him wearin' a suit every day?" Johnny asked, grinning at Teresa.

Before Teresa could express her obvious irritation at Johnny, Murdoch spoke out.

"You do have somewhat a point, my darling," Murdoch said to Teresa. "It is rather a curious thing."

"Remember when we saw those strips of material on his table that time?" Charlie asked, to the table in general, and

then, to Johnny, she added, "The day he got hit with the rock by Monte and John? And I went to get something to put on his

head? Remember?"

"I remember," Johnny said.

To the rest of the family, and to Beets, Charlie said, "There were these pieces of material, where he'd been cutting them up, and Johnny

used one of them in cold water for Burl to hold on his head."

"Was it brocade?" Teresa asked Charlie.

Charlie thought back to that day. She been hurrying to find something to give to Johnny, and didn't remember what the strips

had looked like, or felt like, really.

"I don't know. I just remember it was all really colorful. Blues and yellows," Charlie said. "They were spread out on the table,

like he'd been making something."

"He's an interesting old fella," Johnny said.

For a few seconds there was quiet, as if each family member was reflecting on Johnny's statement, and Burl's interesting

nature.

"He sounds as though he could tell a good tale," Beets said.

L