Once in town, in front of the jail, Charlie was down, and off of her horse quicker than a snap, and was already at the door when

Johnny said, "Hey. Come back here and tie your reins."

Charlie paused, her hand on the doorknob, to look back at him. She'd swiftly looped the ends of the reins over the post once only, in

the hurry that she was in.

Charlie wanted to protest that Gurth wouldn't leave, or wander from his spot where she'd left him, but she stuffed that protest

back into her mouth again, and went to tie Gurth more securely.

When they all went into the jail together, Val was sitting, his feet up on the desk, smoking a cheroot and whittling at a piece of wood.

"Hey, there, Lancers," he greeted them. He stood up, brushing the shavings from his pants, and came around the corner of his desk.

After he and Johnny had exchanged greetings, Charlie asked, "How is Burl? Did you have to get the doctor?"

"I had the doc come over and take a look at him-" Val began.

"Is he better?" Charlie continued, and headed towards the back, towards the jail cells.

"He's not back there," Val called after her, and Charlie paused, turning, and then coming back to stand by Teresa.

Val went on to explain that the doctor had come, taken a look at Burl, and then later, when Val had gone to run an errand, he'd

come back to find Burl gone.

"Where did he go?" Charlie asked, just as Teresa asked what the doctor had said.

"Doc said he must have gotten too hot for one thing," Val said. "And, as far as where he went, Charlie, I don't know."

Val went on to say that the doctor had been puzzled by Burl's confusion, thinking it might be attributed to the heat, but

yet not certain. "He said the old fella's not in the best shape."

"Did he know why Burl gets confused that way?" Teresa asked.

"No, he didn't. Not really. He said he wanted to do some readin' up on it," Val said.

Charlie nibbled at her lip. "He wasn't at home, though," she told Val.

Val exchanged a quick look with Johnny, and then said, "Well, likely he was out hunting-"

"Johnny didn't think so, did you, Johnny?" Charlie asked, looking up at Johnny.

"I didn't hear his gun, but that doesn't mean he wasn't out huntin'," Johnny reminded her.

"He's sick, though," Charlie protested.

"He rested here some, and ate a ham sandwich I fetched over from the café," Val told her. "I reckon that he was feeling better."

Charlie gave Val a dubious, worrying glance, but said nothing.

"Are you two ready for some supper?" Johnny asked the girls.

Val was invited to come along, and the four of them made their way across the street to the café.

Charlie didn't have her usual healthy appetite, and she was glad that it was a different waitress that came to take

their orders. She was not anxious to see Alice.

After they'd been brought their meal plates, however, Alice made an appearance, coming over to refill the lemonade glasses.

"You've had a busy day, hmm?" she addressed Charlie.

Charlie settled for an answer of, "I guess so."

"Got the old man all taken care of, did you?" Alice continued.

Charlie bristled inwardly, as Val spoke up. "She brought him over to me. Doc came to take a look at him."

"Since when is a doctor needed for a drunken reprobate?" Alice asked.

There was that word again. Reprobate. Charlie resolved to ask someone, or to look it up to find its meaning.

"He wasn't drunk," Charlie said. She tried to keep her tone quiet enough so as not to be deemed disrespectful. "He was sick."

"Oh, was he now?" Alice asked, eying Charlie, and chuckling a little.

"Yes, he was," Charlie began, winding herself up. "He was too hot, and he was confused-"

"Whiskey has a way of doing that to a man," Alice said.

"He wasn't-" Charlie began again.

"Charlie."

This from Johnny. Quietly. Charlie turned her gaze to him, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

For a brief moment of rebellion, Charlie thought to continue her protest. Then, she decided against it. A feeling of

betrayal and other's misunderstanding swept over her.

"I'm going to wait outside," she announced abruptly, though quietly enough. And, with that, she stood up, and scooted

her chair to the table neatly, and headed towards the door.

She could hear Teresa say, once, protesting, "Charlie-", but she walked on. And, too, she could hear Alice saying

something about her being 'misguided' and 'sassy'.

Oooooo, Charlie thought. She really, really, disliked that woman. She didn't care that Murdoch said Alice's 'bark was worse

than her bite', or whatever. Alice was the one who was 'misguided'.

Charlie sat down on a bench just outside the door of the café, and concentrated on watching people pass by. Walking, and

on horseback, or in their wagons. A girl from school, Ann, passed by on the other side of the street, walking with her parents, and

she waved to Charlie. Charlie lifted her hand in a return wave.

She tried to calm her churning thoughts down, but she still felt mad inside. Johnny, shushing her like that. And Alice, spouting

off about old Burl-

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there on the bench. Not long. Perhaps ten minutes or so.

She heard the bell over the door of the café jingle as it was opened, and then closed, and then Johnny passed in front of her,

and came to sit down beside her on the bench.

Charlie concentrated on the street, and the passers by, and avoided looking directly at him.

Johnny was quiet, too, for a few moments. Then, he said, into the silence, "You're gonna be hungry, later on. Not hardly eatin'

anything in there."

"I didn't feel like eating," Charlie said, still looking straight ahead. "And I didn't feel like sitting there any longer."

"There's always folks that are gonna have different opinions about things, pequeno," he said. "It's just part of life."

"She's wrong about Burl," Charlie maintained, stubbornly.

Johnny was still, and Charlie looked to her left to him. "You don't think she's right, do you?" she asked him, a bit indignantly.

"No. I don't think she's right."

Part of her was relieved at his words. Part of her was still vexed, though.

"If you don't think that she's right, then why did you shush me in there?" she asked.

"Because you were gettin' wound up, and you shouldn't be talkin' to an adult that way."

"She was mean today, though! She didn't even want to give Burl a cup of water-"

"I'm not sayin' that her actions are all in the right. Right now, though, you're makin' this more about Alice and what she

thinks than you are about Burl."

Charlie opened her mouth to speak, to protest, then she closed it again.

"I guess I am," she admitted.

As Teresa and Val came out then, Charlie said quietly, under her breath, "I still don't like her, though."

Though said softly, and under her breath, Johnny still heard.

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Once they left the café, Val headed back to his office, promising Charlie that he would take a ride out to the shack the

next morning to see if Burl was about, and doing well.

Walking towards the horses, Charlie cast a glance to Johnny.

"A lot could happen by morning," she said. "Maybe we could go back now-and see if he's there-"

"No, we're not," Johnny said. "It's late, and I'm tired, and it's hard tellin' where the old codger has gotten off to."

"But, Johnny-" Charlie began to protest.

Johnny paused, reins in his hand, and turned that blue-eyed gaze onto her.

"Pequeno," he said, warningly. "I said, 'No'."

Charlie paused, as well, and then subsided into silence. Mounting, they began the ride home in that silence.

Teresa made a couple of comments about being concerned about Burl, and about having Murdoch check on him the

next day as well as Val.

Charlie stayed quiet. She was tired, and there was nothing she could say to further the cause. She would only get

herself into Dutch.

As they rode up, the sun was setting, and the front door opened, and Scott came out.

He walked over to greet them, as they dismounted, and began to untack the horses.

"Where have you three been?" he asked.

Teresa began to fill Scott in on what had happened, about Charlie taking Burl to Val's earlier in the day, and then all of them

going out to the shack in search of him, and then to town.

"A lot going on," Scott said, in response, looking to Charlie. Charlie met his eyes, but said nothing.

"You alright?" Scott asked her, running a hand over her shoulder.

Charlie nodded. "Just tired."

"Sounds like a long day for you," Scott said.

Charlie nodded again, and as she moved to pull the saddle from Gurth's back, Johnny said, "I'll finish him up for ya, pequeno. You

can head on inside."

"Thank you," Charlie said.

"Go get washed up and ready for bed," Scott told her.

"Okay," Charlie said, and headed towards the house. She left the three of them, there, by the corral, talking.

Probably hashing over Burl, or maybe, instead, talking about her, Charlie thought. About how she'd left her supper virtually

untouched, and gone outside, miffed. Then, she knew she was being silly. They might tell Scott she hadn't eaten, but

neither Teresa or Johnny was going to make her out to look like the bad person in this.

Charlie climbed the stairs to her bedroom, where she stripped off her pants and shirt, and washed, and then

pulled her long white nightgown over her head.

She was loosening her hair from her braid, when there was a tap on the door. By now, Charlie could recognize knocks from

the different Lancer family members. Murdoch's was more forceful; Johnny's lighter; Teresa, several small ones; and then Scott. His was

always the same. Only two, somewhere between Murdoch's and Johnny's in force. Not loud, and not soft.

"Come in," Charlie said, and he did, leaving the door slightly ajar and coming over to the window seat where she

was sitting, tugging on her hair. He was carrying the book they'd been reading, and a glass of milk, which he sat on the nightstand.

"Looks like you've got some snarls in there," he told Charlie, reaching up to touch the back of her hair.

"It will take forever to get them all out," Charlie said.

"No. Not forever," Scott said, sounding slightly amused. "Get your hairbrush."

Charlie got up, and went to retrieve her hairbrush from the dressing table, and coming back to hand it off to him.

"Sit down here, and let's see what I can do with it," he said. Charlie sat down beside him, and turned her back, as he began

to brush out her hair.

"I took Burl to Val's," she said, in beginning.

"That was the right thing to do."

"He was sitting on a bench behind the café-and he was sweaty, and he seemed sick-"

"It was real warm out today. He might have walked too fast," Scott said.

"Val said the doctor wasn't sure, though," Charlie said.

"Well, you got him somewhere to cool off, and got him some help, so you did right."

"That lady, Alice, at the café-I went in to ask her for a cup of water for him, and she came out and started saying

all sorts of things."

Scott was quiet, and kept on brushing her hair. There was silence for a few minutes, and then when he handed her

brush to her, he said, "There you go."

Charlie turned to look at him. "She said I was sassy to her. And that Murdoch wouldn't like it if he knew."

"Were you?" Scott asked. "Sassy to her?"

Charlie hesitated, considering, and determined to be honest. "I guess I was a little bit. She was acting as though giving

Burl a drink of water was costing her money, or something."

"It's not your place to tell an adult how to behave," Scott said.

"I wasn't, Scott," Charlie protested. "I just told her he wasn't drunk, when she kept saying that he was."

"Mmmm," Scott said, looking thoughtful.

"He didn't know who I was at first," Charlie said. "And when I mentioned Murdoch, he didn't remember him, either!"

"Sounds as though he was real confused," Scott said.

"What can make a person be that way?" Charlie asked him. "Everybody keeps saying it was the heat-do you think that

was it?"

"It's hard to say, Charlie. A doctor would have to determine that."

A moment or so later, he said, "Time to get to bed."

Charlie went to scramble up onto the bed, and underneath the quilts. Scott handed her the glass of milk sitting on the nightstand.

"You didn't eat much of your supper, Teresa says," he said.

"I couldn't stand to listen to that woman talk about Burl." Charlie took a long drink of the cold milk. She wished she could have

a sandwich to go with it. With slices of Maria's thick bread, and ham, and tomatoes. Just thinking about it made her stomach

rumble in hunger.

"Sounds as though you should have eaten your supper at the café," Scott said.

She should have, she knew. Especially since Johnny had been tired and all, but still had taken her and Teresa out to

eat. And then, he'd had to pay for her meal, when she'd just gotten up and walked out.

Charlie nodded. "I should have," she admitted.

"Go down and make yourself a quick sandwich," Scott told her.

"Thank you!" Charlie said, scrambling off of the bed, and heading for the door.

She took the stairs on a run, and, at the bottom, she very nearly collided with Johnny, who was heading up.

"Whoa," he said, reaching out to steady her.

"Sorry," Charlie said, breathlessly.

"It's alright." He patted her on one arm. "Sleep well, pequeno."

As he moved to go around her, and on up the stairs, Charlie caught at his hand.

"Johnny?"

"What?"

"It was nice of you to take Teresa and I out to eat supper. And, I'm sorry that I wasted your money by not eating."

Johnny regarded her thoughtfully, and smiled. "Okay," he said, in acceptance of her apology.

Charlie gave him a swift, hard hug around his waist, and then sprinted on towards the kitchen.

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