I wasn't on the dish washing duty list, so after I'd helped clear the table, I wandered thru to the living room. The main door had

been left open, so only the screen door was masking the conversation being held on the front porch. I went to the bookshelves, my fingers

on the books, but my ears straining to hear.

I could hear fairly well at first. Brian repeating that Daniel had no need to take an outside job, especially one so far away.

Daniel said again that the money was a motivator.

"If it's just the money-we can make sure we get you more out of the family coffers," Adam said.

"There's no need for that," Daniel refused.

I heard the sound of the porch swing creaking, and boots scraping on the porch floor. I had been inching myself over closer

to the screen as they talked, but now I became still. Motionless. So I wouldn't be detected.

I could hear Crane saying something then, and I let out my breath. Relieved that I wasn't caught.

Adam passed in front of the door, to lean against a porch post. I didn't think he was where he could see me, lurking, even though I

could see him.

And then, without even looking into the house, or at me at all, Adam said, quietly, "Close the door, Harlie Marie."

I felt myself get hot in embarrassment at being caught out. I stepped out, into view, and began to close the wooden door.

"Close it all the way," Adam added, and I flushed hotter.

I looked up just enough to catch his eyes on me, thru the screen. "Yes, sir," I mumbled.

I closed the door, tightly, and went to do my homework. I took it outside to the picnic table out back to do. It was so

nice out, and I didn't feel like being cooped up in the house. There was just the merest hint of a breeze, and I got a small rock

to set on top of my papers so they wouldn't blow away.

Guthrie came over to join me after awhile, hitching himself up to sit on top of the table, with his feet resting on the seat bench.

He was carrying a book in his hand.

"They still talkin'?" he asked me.

"Yeah. I think so."

He sighed, and laid back across the table, looking up at the sky.

I took a look at the book he still held. "Reading 'The Outsiders', huh?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's a tough read," Guthrie complained. "I'm havin' trouble getting thru it. I wish it wasn't assigned reading for senior English."

"Why?" I asked. "I liked it."

"I dunno. The way they talk, and all that." He turned to fasten his blue eyes on me. "You could just tell me everything that happens,

you know. Give me your own summary. Then I wouldn't have to go thru this."

"I could," I said. "But, that wouldn't be the right thing, Guth." I batted my eyelashes at him teasingly, and he retaliated by

tossing the paperback copy of The Outsiders in my direction.

"Yeah, yeah," he said.

I took the book and set it on top of my own books.

"Wait until you have to read Romeo and Juliet," I teased him.

"Agghhh," Guthrie groaned. "Just shoot me now."

We subsided into quiet for a few minutes.

"Think they're tryin' to talk Daniel out of the job?" Guthrie asked, sitting up.

"For sure, they are," I said. "I was listening until Adam saw me."

"It sounds like a good job to me," Guthrie said.

I gave him a look of surprise. "Maybe. But, Daniel won't have time for anything with his music if he takes the job. I mean, he'll be

committed to it-he'll never get back to Nashville."

"I'd think you'd be glad about that," Guthrie said. "I mean, if he stays, then he'd be around all the time."

"Yeah, that part of it would be nice," I admitted.

There were voices coming from around the side of the house, and Crane and Adam approached, still talking. But, about

ranch stuff. Not Daniel, or his job prospects.

"Hey, you monkeys," Crane said, in greeting.

"Hey," Guthrie said, in reply.

"Homework done?" Crane asked, as he and Adam stopped beside the picnic table.

I said yes, as Guthrie gave another groan.

"Still readin' this," he said, thumping the copy of The Outsiders.

"That's a good book," Crane said, and Guthrie gave a shake of his head.

"If you say so," he said, doubtfully.

"You read it, didn't you, peanut?" Crane asked me.

"Yeah," I said.

"How many chapters do you need to read tonight?" Crane asked Guthrie.

"Two," Guthrie said, sounding glum.

Guthrie is super smart. Good at math. I mean, so good at it that he doesn't even have to crack a math book. He can practically do

most math stuff in his head. But, reading, and English. Those things he's not so good at. Or, at least he doesn't enjoy them.

"Finish your reading, and then I'll rehash some of it with you," Crane offered. "In case there's a quiz on those chapters."

"It's dry as dust," Guthrie complained on.

"Change your attitude and it may not be so bad," Crane told him. That's Crane-speak for 'stop complaining, and do what

you need to do'.

Guthrie knew it, too, because he sighed, and reached out for the dog-eared copy of The Outsiders.

Adam, meanwhile, was giving me a discerning look, out of his dark eyes.

"Eavesdropping's sort of childish, don't you think, young lady?" he said.

My face got all hot again. I gave a really quick nod, embarrassed.

Adam, thankfully, said no more about it. Guthrie helped that along, probably, because he spoke up to ask, "What's Daniel

gonna do?"

Crane and Adam exchanged a brief look.

"He's going to Fremont to work," Crane said.

Guthrie and I were both quiet at that remark. There didn't seem to be anything else to say about it.

As I was gathering up my books and papers, and was walking inside with Adam, he paused at the back door so I could go

inside ahead of him.

"You don't want Daniel to do it, do you?" I asked Adam, quietly.

Adam flicked his glance over me.

"Not particularly, no," Adam said.

By now, we were in the kitchen, which was tidied and welcoming. Adam went over to the coffee pot, refilling the pot with water, and

preparing to make more.

Alone in the kitchen that way, I found myself confiding to Adam.

"It makes me sad," I said.

"What makes you sad?" he asked, as he measured out the coffee.

"That Daniel's not doing anything at all with his music."

"He'll come back to it."

"What if he doesn't?" I persisted.

Adam leaned against the counter, and met my expression. "Then-that will be his choice," he said. "His, Harlie."

"Yes. I know," I said.

"If I had to make a bet on it, though, I'd wager that he won't be long from it," Adam said.

"You think so?" I asked.

"Music makes up a good part of who Daniel is," he said. "Generally, people can't stop doing what it is that gives them

the most enjoyment and solace."

"I hope," I said.

As the coffee began its dripping, Adam went to pull out a chair from the table, scooting it out and sitting down. He reached out and

pulled out the chair next over so that it was nearly facing his.

He patted the second chair seat, and said, "Sit down."

I eyed him, trying to think quickly of what he might be planning to bring up to me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, a bit warily.

"I guess that'll be all in the way we approach it," he said. Which wasn't an answer at all.

"Come on," he said, patting the chair seat again.

I took the seat, setting my books and stuff on the table, and then facing him.

Adam wasted no time in coming directly to the point. "We need to discuss the horse," he said.

Ah. The horse. As in, Dark Commander.

"Okay," I said, feeling myself tighten up immediately.

"It sounds as if he's fairly unpredictable," Adam said.

"We're still getting to know each other," I pointed out swiftly.

"Uh huh," he said. In apparent agreement. But, I knew better that to assume that's what it meant.

"I've made a lot of progress with him," I said. I felt I had to get it all said. I could feel the steel trap of Adam's personality

closing around me like a crocodile. Sorry. But, that's what it feels like sometimes.

"I know you have," he acknowledged. "The thing is, we don't know what this horse has been thru in his life. How he's been

treated. He-"

"That's exactly why it's too early to judge him!" I interrupted Adam mid-word. "He needs more time to get to know me!"

Adam gave me one of those looks. The one that shows he's irritated, and that he's being provoked, and is holding onto his

temper.

"Can you not interrupt me?" he said. "Please?"

"Yes. Sorry," I said. I did not want to make him any more stern that he was already. Not without at least listening to my side

of things.

"Alright," he said. "The main concern is keeping you safe. It seems as though D.C. has too many things about him that can't

really be answered. And, that makes it difficult for you to be safe with him."

I couldn't help it. I felt tears filling my eyes.

"Please don't, Adam!" I said.

"Please don't, what?" he countered.

"Make me get rid of him!" I said. "He's barely had a chance here!"

In the midst of my dramatic plea-I knew it was dramatic-Jill walked into the kitchen. I clamped my lips shut tight, and

Adam, too, was quiet. He gave Jill a somewhat of a smile, but I didn't look directly at her. I didn't want her to see me nearly crying.

"Hi," she said, all bubbly-like.

"Hi," Adam answered, leaning back in his chair a bit, and rubbing his hand on his jeans.

Jill headed to the cabinet, opening it, and pulling down a glass. She held it up, and said, "I came to get some tea."

Adam gave another brief nod, and half-smile, in acknowledgement. So, we sat there, and waited, while Jill poured

herself a glass of sweet tea, from the refrigerator, and then put the pitcher back again.

Then, instead of going, as anybody with any common courtesy would do, since it was evident that there was a

serious discussion going on-Jill paused there beside the kitchen table.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

In that instant, I forgot all my good intentions towards her. I mean, seriously? That was just being out and out nosy.

"Everything's fine," Adam said.

Jill nodded a bit. "Private talk, huh?" she asked, then.

"Right," Adam said. "Private talk."

He didn't say it in a mean way or anything, but Jill must have finally connected her brain to her feet, because she

gave a half-smile, and walked back out to the living room.

Adam and I looked back at each other again, and he said, "The horse needs more experienced handling than what you can do."

"That's what Evan thinks, huh?" I asked, feeling upset and now mad, too.

"It's what I think," he corrected me. "And Brian agrees. Don't be blaming Evan. He's just concerned about you getting

hurt."

I bit at my lower lip, waiting for him to say that D.C. had to be taken to the auction.

"What we've decided is-that you won't ride him out in the pasture at all, and not even in the corral unless somebody's out

there with you. For awhile, though, Evan's gonna be the one riding him. When he's done some work with the horse, then we'll see

about you riding him again in the corral. But, until we say differently, you're to steer clear of him." He paused, and when I was silent, he prompted me, "Harlie?"

I nodded. "I thought you were gonna tell me he had to go," I said, feeling emotional and grateful at the same time.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Adam said, and my chest tightened up again. "Let's see where Evan gets with him, and then we'll go from there. Alright?"

"Yes," I managed, my voice sounding raspy.

"Okay," he said, getting to his feet, and going to take a cup down from the cabinet, filling it with the freshly-made coffee. I got up, too,

scooting the chair back up to the table, and he came back by me, pausing.

"Better get your shower, and shot done," he said. "I want you in bed by ten tonight."

When I didn't answer immediately, he said, "Hmm?" in prompting, and I nodded in response to his directive.

He surveyed me solemnly for a couple of moments, and then said, "Comere," and pulled me into his chest to hug me.

"You alright?" he asked me. "You seem sort of emotional. Sort of weepy."

"I'm always like this when you get onto me," I said, and he pulled back a bit so as to look down in my face.

"Harlie-I wasn't getting onto you," he said, in protest. "This wasn't a scolding."

"It felt as though it was," I said.

"I didn't intend for it to," Adam said. He looked genuinely regretful.

"It's okay," I said, and pressed myself back into his side so he would hug me again.

7

All my wonderful readers and reviewers, from wherever you are in our world, I am praying you stay well and safe. My dear mother in law passed

away last week, (not from the virus), and it was difficult, without being about to have a real funeral and support each other. Thank you to

all of you, because writing keeps me sane and happy.