I toted my saddle over to the front of the tack shed, and set it down. I opened the door, and put a long leash on the pup, who

was so hyper he was jumping all over the place.

I spotted Ford and Guthrie, and headed towards them. The pup was strong. He was practically dragging me.

"Can one of you put a stake in the yard?" I asked them. "So I can tether him to it, so he can get some exercise?"

"I can do it for you," Ford said. He went to hunt up the stake and hammer and all that, and then, together we headed to

the grassy area near the orchard. Ford pounded the stake down, and made sure it was secure, and then helped me get

the pup situated, so he had plenty of lead to move around.

Gus had followed us. Likely because Ford was there. Ford is sort of like Gus's 'person'. If a dog can have a favorite person,

then Ford is it for Gus. But, Gus didn't mess with the pup. He stayed far enough out of range so he didn't get jumped on.

Warrior, however, was a different story. He didn't like the pup being there. And he kept getting closer and closer to the pup,

seeming to aggravate him.

I tried to scold Warrior, to send him on his way, but he wasn't minding. Not at all.

"Maybe he'll come with you," Ford said. "If he doesn't, you may have to shut him up so he doesn't keep comin' over here."

"Can we hang out for awhile?" I asked him. I wanted to talk to Ford. About the evening before, with Kristin's situation, about Jill

and Daniel, and the whole rushing into marriage and baby thing. I wanted to talk to him about all of that stuff.

"I told Brian I'd check some fence," Ford said.

"I can ride along with you," I said.

I went into the house to tell Hannah where I was going, and I packed up some snacks for Ford and I, and took a canteen

of water. I went to retrieve my saddle, yet again, and headed out to saddle old Charlie for the ride with Ford. I was in the process

of doing that, when Ford came walking up, leading his horse, Pecos. And, then, already mounted, and passing thru the

gate to the pasture, was Daniel.

I hesitated, as Ford prepared to mount Pecos.

"Daniel's going?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh." I felt my thoughts get all churned up.

"What's the matter?" Ford asked me, looking at me as though I was crazy.

"I thought it was just you and me," I said, quietly.

"Oh," Ford said, looking puzzled. "Well, it's okay, right?"

I shrugged, looking up at him.

"Since when do you not wanna hang out with Daniel?" Ford asked me, clearly perplexed.

I shrugged again, in answer, feeling miserable.

"You and him on the outs?" Ford asked.

"Not exactly."

Daniel's shrill whistle came thru the air. "Ford!" he hollered. "Come on!"

"You comin'?" Ford asked me.

I made a quick decision to go. It would be good to be out in the fresh air, riding. And maybe I'd get a chance to talk to

Ford. And, maybe, even hanging out with Daniel would be good. He was always with Jill. This was an opportunity to not have

her around, clinging to him. Maybe, too, I could get over feeling so awkward about what had happened that morning with Jill. I

mean, it hadn't been that big of a deal. Had it?

So, the three of us set out, intent on reaching the south pastures. At first Ford and Daniel just talked about regular

stuff. Things around the ranch, and all of that.

Ford asked me about the pup, and how it had happened that I'd brought him home. He talked about Captain Jack

and the two new words that he'd learned recently.

We rode the fence line, finding and patching one small area, and then sitting and having the snacks of cookies and apples

that I'd brought along.

It was when we were preparing to remount, and head back to the house, that Daniel met my eyes across the backs

of both old Charlie and Duchess.

"How come you reacted like that to Jill this mornin'?" he asked me, sort of quietly.

I swept a look at Ford, but he was retightening his cinch.

I was thinking of what to say. I couldn't deny that I'd been rude.

"It irritated me," I settled for saying.

"When does bein' irritated give you cause to be rude like that?" Daniel asked.

Like I said, I knew that I'd been rude. But, that didn't mean that I wanted Daniel pointing it out, or calling me out on

it. It felt too much like he was scolding me, or something.

I was preparing to say that I hadn't been all that rude, really.

"And, don't say that you weren't rude," Daniel countered. "Because you were. And you know it, too."

I met his eyes, and felt my face get all hot. I wished that I would have stayed at home and not come along. If he'd started

this up with me later at the house, it would have been easier to dismiss, and slip away. Out here, in the middle

of nowhere, really, with only Ford there, where was I supposed to go? It wasn't like I could canter off in a royal huff

or something.

"I wasn't going to say that," I told him.

"Yeah. You were," he said, straightening his stirrup.

"Well, if you know everything that I'm going to say before I actually say it, then why are you asking me about

reacting that way?" I countered, with a bit of an attitude. "Don't you already know the answer?"

Daniel rested his hands on his saddle, looking across the horse's backs.

I saw the first inklings of a temper rising in him. I could see, also, that he was trying to tamp it down.

"It was way over the top," he said. "Answering Jill like you did. She was tryin' to be nice, is all."

I felt a sharp, sudden ache inside. My thoughts were all conflicted, and my emotions, too.

To a certain extent, if I was being totally honest with myself, I knew that I had reacted too strongly to

Jill and her hair-fixing comments that morning. But, it hurt, it did, that Daniel was coming down on me like this.

I supposed it was always going to be this way from now on. Daniel, taking Jill's side in things, always.

I told myself that that was a childish thought to have. I wasn't some little kid, but still-

I looked to Ford, and saw that he was standing, quietly, holding his reins in his hand. Just listening. And he

looked regretful as heck. I figured he was wishing that he was anywhere but where he was right now.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay, what?" Daniel prompted.

"Okay. You think I was rude to Jill. So-you told me," I said. I felt as if I was going to explode.

Daniel's expression darkened even further. "What is with you?" he demanded.

I tried to meet his eyes, and then I turned away, picking up Charlie's reins, and mounting.

"We're still talkin'," Daniel said.

I turned Charlie to face him. Waiting for him to say more.

Daniel sighed. "I'm tryin' to understand," he said. "You shouldn't be like that. Rude, and intolerant of other people-"

"I may have been rude," I said. "But, I'm not intolerant of other people, Daniel!"

And, then, things seemed to change in the conversation. Daniel mounted his horse, too, and said, "Okay."

He said it in a resigned sort of way.

"Okay, what?" I asked him, echoing what he had said to me a few minutes earlier.

"Okay. You think you're not intolerant."

"But, you think I am?" I accused, feeling myself getting more and more upset.

"Well, what am I supposed to think, Harlie?" he asked me. "You barely give Jill a chance. I can only figure it's

because she's different than what you're used to, and you can't accept it."

His voice level was even. Quiet. And calm. But, it was hurtful. His words. And, also-he had called me 'Harlie'.

He only did that when he was really, really mad at me about something. It's rare. And, on the rare occasions that

he does it, it hurts me worse than if he'd yelled at me.

For a long, long few moments, our eyes met. I felt as though I was going to start crying.

"I'll apologize to Jill, for being rude to her," I managed.

"I'd appreciate it," he said, quietly.

After another long look, he gave Duchess a nudge with his heels. "Ready, Ford?" he asked, and began riding.

"Yeah," Ford said, mounting his horse. He gave me a sad-looking, sympathetic glance.

I was totally silent on the long ride back to the house. Ford and Daniel talked a little, but I hung back on Charlie,

behind them.

Once we were at the barn, I began to unsaddle Charlie. I was watching Daniel, covertly, out of the corner of my eye.

It felt bad, to have him mad at me. And, he was right. At least, mostly, he was right.

I went inside, and to the kitchen, where Hannah was kneading bread dough at the table, a bit of flour on her cheek.

Kristin and Clare were sitting there, too, and were hovering over one of the worn cookbooks we have.

Jill was sitting next to Hannah, holding Isaac, while he banged a metal measuring cup on the table, over and over.

"Hi, sweetie," Hannah said, in greeting.

"Hi."

"How was the fence patching?" she asked.

I settled for saying, "They got it done."

Kristin raised her eyes from the Betty Crocker cookbook. "We're trying to find a recipe for a birthday dessert for Crane," she

announced. Ah. That was right. Crane's birthday was in like-three days.

"That's good," I said.

"We're thinking of something different," Clare said.

"When are we gonna celebrate?" I asked. "Tomorrow? Or on his actual birthday, on Tuesday?"

Hannah looked around the table. "What does everybody think? Tomorrow would be good, if we could manage it."

"We should be able to figure it out by then," Clare said. "Ohhh, look at that," she said, pointing to a picture of a plate

of chocolate fudge in the cookbook.

"Won't you have to call his girlfriend?" Jill spoke up. "Ivy, right? To let her know about it?"

"We'll call her," Hannah said, with a nod.

I cast a glance at Jill, remembering what I'd told Daniel that I would do. Apologize.

"He's so beautiful," Jill said, giving Isaac a squeeze. "I think he's the nicest baby I've ever been around."

"Have you had much experience?" Hannah asked. "With babies and children?"

I went to the sink to wash my hands, listening for her answer.

"No. Not really. There weren't many smaller kids or babies in the foster homes I was placed into. I was mostly

with other older kids." Jill stroked her fingers down Isaac's cheek. "If all babies are like Isaac, though, then I wish I could

have been."

"All babies are definitely not like Isaac," Clare said. "Believe me. He's very mellow compared to some-my sister's baby

is the total opposite. He cries nearly all the time."

I saw Jill's expression look a bit bewildered.

"I guess I was just hoping," she said.

"I understand," Clare said, kindly. "I'm hoping and praying that our little one has Scooter's disposition."

"I've never been around babies, either," Kristin spoke up, quietly. "Until Isaac, I mean."

Isaac gurgled happily as he saw that he had everybody at the table's attention.

"Want to help me with the rolls?" Hannah asked me. "I'll give you half."

"Sure," I said, and sat down on her other side.

Hannah separated her huge pile of dough and handed me half of it.

"Adam says Guthrie was a real easygoing baby," Hannah said, in conversation. "He was always laughing."

"You were quieter, he said," Hannah said, to me.

The conversation continued on like that, easy and enjoyable. We were all drinking iced tea, and Jill held Isaac until

he'd gone to sleep against her shoulder.

"We can take him up to his crib," Hannah said, beginning to dust the flour off of her hands.

"No, it's okay," Jill said. "I don't mind holding him-if it's okay with you, Hannah."

"Well, sure," Hannah said, with a smile. "It's fine, if your arms aren't getting tired."

When Hannah and I had formed the dough into rolls she got up to put them into the oven.

Kristin asked me, in a quiet aside, if I wanted to go sit on the porch. I knew that was her way of saying she

might want to talk.

"I'll take him up now," Hannah said, taking Isaac from Jill.

Kristin took her glass of iced tea, and I told her I'd be right out. I gathered up my nerve, and swallowed my pride. I figured

I might not have as good an opportunity again, with nobody else around.

Jill was still sitting at the table, leafing thru one of the cookbooks. I refilled my glass of tea, and took the pitcher

to the table.

"Want some more?" I offered, gesturing to her half-empty glass.

"No. I've had enough," Jill said, without looking up.

I set the pitcher down, and said, "I'm sorry if I was rude to you this morning, when you offered to fix my hair."

Jill looked up. At first she didn't say anything. I began to think that she wasn't going to answer me. How I would handle

that, I wasn't sure. I mean, I was apologizing, but if she thought she could not respond, well, I wasn't sure that I could

keep being polite.

"You don't think you were?" she asked. I blinked at her. Instead of a pat answer, of 'okay', or 'that's alright', she was

asking me if I thought I hadn't been rude?

I counted to five in my head, and said, "I was."

Jill was sort of sitting back in the kitchen chair, studying me. "I just want to get along, Harlie," she said. "That's all I'm trying to

do. You seem to think-"

When her voice trailed off, I couldn't help it-I had to ask. "I seem to think what?" I asked.

"That I have an agenda, or something. That I have an ulterior motive to being nice to you."

I was really blinking at her now. "What?" I asked. "I don't think that!"

"You seem to," she said, and lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

"No," I said, stubbornly. "I've never meant to make it seem that way."

She was looking at me, as if taking my measure, as they say. It made me feel uncomfortable. If I'd thought this

apology would be a quick and easy thing, I would have been wrong.

"Anyway-" I said, "I just wanted to tell you that, and apologize for being rude." I wanted to clarify this whole apology

thing, so that Daniel wouldn't be mad at me. "I need to go find Kristin-" I said, gesturing towards the living room.

"She seems really down," Jill said.

"Yeah," I said, edging my way further.

"I have an understanding of what she's going thru," Jill said. "I had a foster father at one point-he was really a mean drunk."

I looked at her, thinking there was no end to her experiences and stories.

She stood up, then, stretching her arms above her head. Her blouse rose up, and I saw, again, that her belly was

really, really beginning to get rounder. And larger. It seemed to be happening so fast.

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