Ford and I did our share to help prepare breakfast that morning. Adam scrambled up a couple dozen eggs, and fried some bacon. Ford

set the table and stirred up juice, while I was in charge of making the toast. We have a four-slot toaster, but it still takes a long time to toast

enough slices for all of us.

Hannah came down the back stairs, carrying Isaac. She ran her hand over Adam's lower back, as he stood at the stove.

"This is nice," she said. "All of you making breakfast. It's early."

"Sit down and have a cup of coffee," Adam told her.

"You don't have to tell me that twice," Hannah said, smiling at him. She put Isaac in his high chair, and

sprinkled some Cheerios on the tray for him to nibble on. She poured herself a cup of coffee as Crane came into

the kitchen.

"You're up, too?" Hannah asked, smiling at Crane, and sitting down in her chair, next to Isaac's high chair.

"Sleep was not conducive," Ford said, with an attempt at humor.

"What? Why?" Hannah asked, looking puzzled.

Crane exchanged a look with Adam, and then said, "Daniel and Jill had a scrap this morning." His voice was low, and

Hannah looked concerned, and matched his tone with a low one of her own.

"Oh, no," she said. "What was it about?"

"I don't know," Adam said, flipping the eggs with his spatula.

I swung my glance to Crane. I figured that he knew, since, for one thing, he had followed Daniel to his truck,

and they talked, and secondly, since he and Daniel were so close.

"I'll let Daniel tell it," Crane said, and Hannah nodded in understanding.

"She doesn't treat Daniel right," I said, determined to say at least that much.

I waited for the usual adult comments, such as 'Harlie, you shouldn't say that' or 'it's Daniel's business' or something

along those lines. But, this time, none of them said any of those things. Adam only said, "Keep makin' the toast," to me.

7

I spent part of my morning watching Evan work with D.C. Perched on the top rail of the corral made for uncomfortable sitting,

after a while. I had gone out to to catch D.C. when Evan said he had a little time to work with him, but D.C. had been at

his most contrary, and, despite my best efforts, wouldn't let me near enough to put the halter on.

Evan didn't interfere, or try to help me, until I turned to look over at where he stood, and raised my arms in a frustrated

'what am I supposed to do?' way.

Evan walked over closer, but then stopped, not coming completely to me. When he just stood there, not moving further, and

not saying anything, I prompted him with, "Are you gonna help me?" in an impatient way.

"I said I'd help work him," Evan specified. "Not catch him for ya every time."

I felt my temper slipping. Sometimes-Evan still has the ability to rile me. Not nearly as he used to-but still sometimes.

"Well-but I obviously can't catch him," I said.

"Then leave him be. Let him graze, and do as he pleases, and never plan to ride him," Evan said, sardonically.

I knew this was his way of pointing out, in an off-hand way, that I was giving in and letting D.C. get the better of me. That I was

a quitter. I had originally purchased the horse with no real thought to riding him, but, instead, more to give him a permanent home,

and good care. But, now, since I'd had the opportunity to be on his back, racing across the pastures, I knew how thrilling it was

to ride him. Plus, I still wanted to show what could be done with him, like to the old rancher at the auction who thought I

was foolish for buying the horse, and Brian foolish for allowing it.

"I want to be able to ride him," I maintained.

Evan help out his hands, similar to the way that I had a few minutes ago. As in, 'what are you gonna do, then?'

"I'll catch him," I said, with determination.

"Okay. Good," Evan said, and turned around to walk away.

And, I did catch D.C. Finally. It took me walking twice to the shed for sugar cubes. But, I got him into the corral, and

watched Evan work him there. Then when he told me to open the gate, I did, and Evan rode him out into the pasture.

Evan let D.C. run, and they disappeared from sight. Ford came over to sit with me, and we talked about his classes at college

and stuff like that. When Evan finally reappeared, and rode D.C. up beside the corral, I could tell the difference in the horse.

D.C. was tired.

"How was he?" I asked.

"He did good," Evan said, reaching forward to pat D.C. on the neck, while still sitting in the saddle.

"Can I ride now?" I asked.

"No ridin' him by you yet, remember?" Evan said.

"You've got him tired out now, though," I protested. "He'll be fine."

"Nope. Not till I get the all-clear," he refused.

The all-clear. Meaning Adam.

"You know that it's you that started this-by saying he was too much for me," I challenged. "So, if you say it's alright,

then it will be fine with Adam."

Evan gave me another look. Irritated by my attitude, I'm sure.

"Look, Miss Snip," Evan said, "I'm doin' you a favor here. You want to be able to ride this horse, so I'm helpin' that

along. If you wanna pitch a fit, just because I didn't want to see you bust your head, then-"

"Alright," I interrupted his tirade. "I know you told because you were worried about me."

Evan had stopped talking at me, but he was still irritated, I could tell.

"Sorry," I told him.

Evan didn't say anything more, right then. He just unsaddled D.C. and told me to walk him to cool him down.

7

The day was taken up with Saturday chores. I was able to squeeze in some time with Ford, which is always a good

thing. In the afternoon, I went into the house, which was cooling with the breeze and the air movement from the ceiling fans.

I jumped into helping with the household stuff. I was downstairs folding clothes, taking from the dryer, and folding, and then

carrying the towels upstairs. I found Clare lying on the couch in the living room, and I went to peer over at her.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm just resting a minute," Clare said.

"Are you feeling sick?"

"Just a little tired," Clare said. "I'm going to get up in a minute and get back to the cleaning."

"You should rest," I told her. "Go upstairs and take a real nap in your bed."

"I'll be fine," Clare said. "There's things to do."

When she struggled to a sitting position, I saw how pale she looked.

"I'll make you some tea if you want," I offered.

"That would be nice," Clare said.

I went off to do that, bustling around the kitchen, and making the tea with plenty of sugar, the way I used to make

it for Hannah when she was pregnant.

Jill joined us as we were sitting in the living room. I don't know where she'd been all day. She was filing her nails with

an emery board as she sat, curled up on one end of the couch. As we sat there, the sky outside seemed to be darkening,

and Jill went to stand at the door to look out.

"I hope it doesn't storm," she said, sounding worried.

"It's already setting in," I said.

"Maybe it will blow over," she said, and I didn't argue with her. I could tell that it was gearing up to be a real gully-washer, but

she wasn't going to be told anything.

"Hannah should have been home," Clare commented, looking at the big clock above the fireplace.

Hannah had gone to visit Marie, taking Isaac with her.

"I forgot-there's clothes hanging on the line," Clare said, and began to stand up. "They'll get soaked-"

"I'll get them," I offered.

I knew that Clare really did not feel well, because she sank back down onto the couch, without protesting.

"Drink your tea," I told her, in my best bossy sister tone. That tone doesn't usually have much success for me with Guthrie, but

Clare gave me a wan smile, and said, "Alright, toots."

I headed towards the kitchen to go out the back door, to the clothesline, but I paused at the door of the kitchen.

Clare had sat back against the couch cushions and closed her eyes, but I said Jill's name quietly, and when she looked

over at me from her position at the front door, I motioned with my hands.

She came and followed me into the kitchen, and I said, "Can you help me bring the clothes in?"

It was purely an impulse on my part. Requesting her to come and help. After all, why shouldn't she?

"Okay," Jill said, and we went outside, each carrying an empty basket to put the clothes into. The storm clouds were

swirling, dark and black, and there was just beginning to be spits of rain.

We began taking the jeans and shirts from the line, dropping them into the baskets.

At a chilly gust of wind, Jill paused in her task and looked at the sky. "I hate storms," she said.

Although I don't have a particular love for storms, I'm not a hater of them, either.

"It's not a big deal," I said.

"There was a storm once-" Jill began, and then her voice dropped off. "At one of the foster homes, and we had to go into

a dark cellar for hours. It was horrible."

I could tell she was being for real, that the memory of it did make her feel frightened.

"We have the basement to go into," I said. "We don't have to use a cellar."

"How long will it last?" she asked me, then.

"It's hard to say," I said. What did she think I was, a weather girl?

I saw Brian and Adam heading in from the barns. They came over where Jill and I stood, at the clothesline.

"Clare inside?" Brian asked me.

I nodded, pushing my hair away from my face as the wind picked up.

"I made her some tea," I told him. "She's not feeling very well, I don't think."

"Mmm," Brian said, tossing the shirt he'd taken down into a basket. "Thanks, peach. For makin' her the tea."

"No problem," I said.

"I thought Hannah would be home by now," Adam said, looking down the driveway, as though he thought he might see

Hannah's little Gremlin coming into view.

"She ought to be along soon," Brian said.

"If she's not, I'm gonna head out to look for her," Adam said.

They both went to work, helping to take down the clothes. At one particular flash of lightning, Adam said, "That's a close

one."

Jill shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, in obvious distress.

Both Adam and Brian saw it, and Adam said, calmly, "There's no worry. You two go on in. I'll bring in this other basket."

So, Jill wasted no time scuttling for the back door. I picked up the basket near my feet, and headed inside.

Brian followed me, going towards the living room to check on Clare.

Adam came a couple minutes later, setting the full basket on the kitchen table, and going to look back outside

at the rolling clouds.

"Where's Guthrie gotten to?" he asked. "Do you know?"

"I think he went with Ford to the creek to fish," I said.

"Hmm," he said.

"Want me to make some coffee?" I offered.

"Yeah. That'd be good."

Jill came to stand at the door of the kitchen. "Should we go to the basement?" she asked. Seemingly, of Adam.

He turned to look at her, and I could tell he was a bit surprised by the question, and the obvious urgency in her tone.

"No need for that yet," he said.

"I hate storms," Jill said, repeating what she'd said to me earlier. In the same fearful way.

"There's no danger to us," Adam said, still in the same calm tone. That tone that had soothed all my childhood hurts and fears

away, or at least had eased them. From skinned knees to death of a pet that I loved, or a friend at school that had said

something cruel to me. Adam's calm tone and soothing ways had had a way of reaching me. Still did, truth be told.

He went on to tell Jill that it would be noisy, likely with thunder and high winds, but that it would pass over.

"We'll keep a watch on it," he told Jill, walking over and setting his hand on her shoulder, just for the briefest of moments.

He smiled at her, and went to the living room, and Jill trailed after him, looking sort of lost.

I was finishing the coffee when the boys came bursting into the back door, taking off their muddy boots and horsing around.

They were soaked to the skin. Literally. Guthrie had rolled up his jeans a bit, but their shirts were sodden, and their hair

was dripping over the floor.

Guthrie was stripping off his shirt, and Ford reached up above in the cabinet to pull down a couple of towels. He tossed one

at Guthrie, and then began to rub his own head dry.

"Where's the fish?" I asked them.

"No luck," Guthrie said.

He and Ford went upstairs to change into dry clothes, and I took a cup of the steaming coffee to the living room

to Adam. He was positioned at the front door, looking out the screen at the falling rain, and flashing in the sky.

Jill was sitting on one end of the couch, while Brian and Clare were sitting next to each other, across from her.

"The tea helped, toots," Clare told me, and I smiled at her.

"That's good."

I took the cup of coffee to Adam and he took it with a 'thanks', and continued to gaze outside.

"Hannah's probably on her way," I said, trying to comfort him.

"Likely she is," he said.

But, Hannah hadn't come, even after another thirty minutes of Adam watching, and waiting. He'd called Marie

at her house, and learned that Hannah had left twenty minutes before. Since it's usually just a twenty minute drive

from Murphys to the ranch, I knew he was biding his time.

"It might take her a few extra minutes," Brian said, in his own attempt to comfort Adam.

"Yeah," Adam said, in agreement. "I think I'll get ready to head out, though, in a couple of minutes. Make sure

she hasn't broken down alongside the road, or somethin'."

"Want me to come with?" Brian offered.

"No. That's alright," Adam said.

"I'll get you a rain slicker," I said, as Ford came down the stairs.

"I don't need one, sugar," Adam said, as Ford shrugged into a jacket.

"I'm going with you," he said.

"No need," Adam said, but Ford kept shoving his arms into the jacket.

So, a few minutes later, the two of them left, in Ford's truck, and Guthrie took up the position at the door,

watching for their return.

"We can get some supper ready," Clare said. "Something hot for when they get home."

"You rest," Brian ordered. "I'll get somethin' started."

"I can at least set the table, and make a salad or something," Clare told him, and they went to the kitchen.

"I didn't know Hannah was out in this," Guthrie said, as we stood together at the screen door. The wind picked up

and took a lawn chair from the porch and blew it clattering down into the yard.

Still jumpy, Jill said, "What was that?" sounding alarmed.

"Just a chair," I told her.

"I hate this," she said.

I exchanged a look with Guthrie, and it was then that we saw headlights coming up the road, and then turning into

the driveway. One vehicle, and then, another behind it.

"Here they are," Guthrie said, sounding relieved. I was relieved, too. Brian must have heard the motors because he

came from the kitchen, walking to where we stood, drying his hands with a towel as he came.

They were parking now, and the rain was coming down in heavy sheets.

"Take an umbrella out, Guth," Brian said. "Scooter doesn't need to get soaked. Hannah, either."

"Okay," Guthrie said, and grabbed an umbrella from the bottom of the table by the door. On the porch he opened it

and ran thru the rain as Adam got out of Hannah's car, and came around to open the passenger door. Hannah stepped

out, Isaac in her arms. Guthrie held the umbrella over their heads and they all hurried up the steps to the porch.

I opened the screen so they could get in quickly, and then began the process of more drying off and changing of

wet clothes. Isaac was so tired that Hannah put him in his footed pajamas, and he fell asleep sitting in his high chair.

Brian had found some stew in the freezer and warmed that up, and we had it with homemade bread.

The lights flickered every once in a while, and every time, Jill jumped, in a panic.

"Even if the lights go out, we've got lanterns," Hannah told her. The rain was really pounding the roof and against the

windows.

Hannah said for us to just stack the dishes for the night and I knew she was really tired. Adam took the sleeping

Isaac up to his crib. Brian made his hot cocoa and Guthrie popped some popcorn.

Sitting around the living room, in a cozy group, I sat next to Guthrie on the floor, watching him toss popcorn into

the air and catch it in his mouth. I was laughing at him, squeezed between him and Ford.

Jill seemed to settle a bit when the thunder and lightning ceased and it was only a rain.

At a bit before nine, Crane got home, and Jill said she was tired, and went up to bed. Hannah and Clare both

admitted to being exhausted, and went to bed as well.

Crane had been at the little house that Ivy rents in town, and he said it was rough seeing to drive in the dark and

the rain.

When it was after nine, nearly nine-thirty, I found that I was waiting for the sound of Daniel's truck to be pulling in.

I knew, when I saw Adam glancing at the big clock, every few minutes, that I wasn't the only one doing so.

7

"