We roared our way out of town. I say roared because the windows were down, blowing the air around in a rush, and the old ranch truck's engine

was anything but quiet.

"You should've left me there-" Jill began, her voice raised to be heard over the wind.

"Maybe should've, but couldn't," Brian said, his voice rising over hers. I could feel the tension and fury radiating off of him, and I wished

that I wasn't the one sitting so precariously on his knee as we bumped along.

"I didn't ask you to come in there, all Frank and Jesse James-" Jill said, and after that it was on, with her and Brian hollering

at each other.

"Maybe we wouldn't have had to-if you hadn't decided to be Bonnie Badass," Brian snapped.

"Well, I haven't had much options other than to be Bonnie Badass!" Jill hurled back. "I've always had to take care of myself-"

"Yeah, yeah," Brian said, shutting her down, mockingly. "We know. Poor, pitiful little Jill-'hey everybody, look at how tough I've had it in my life.'" Wow! I'd had

those very same thoughts myself, many times, about Jill-but to hear Brian say it, to hear him telling her off-well, just Wow!

I thought Jill was going to come right up out of the seat at that point. She turned at Brian, as much as she was able to, since she was

scrunched in between he and Crane.

"That's right!" she screamed. "That's just exactly right! And, you don't know a damn about it, not one Single. Solitary. Thing!" When she said those

last three words, she sort of pointed her finger each time at Brian, really near his face. I cringed. I mean, I would never, not ever, point my finger

at Brian or any of my brothers that way. Well, maybe at Guthrie, I might, but that's all.

If Jill thought she would be daunting somehow to Brian, she found out she was not.

He reached out and took her hand with the pointed finger, and gave it a small push. "Knock it off," he said.

Jill's eyes widened, and then blazed with fury. "I don't have to take this-you don't-none of you-tell me what's what!" She pointed her finger

again, nearly poking Brian's nose. Before I could gasp, or wonder if Jill had some sort of death wish or something-Brian again reached out,

this time capturing Jill's hand in his. Then, he slowly, very deliberately, moved her hand from in front of his face, and back over to her own leg,

where he released it. "Today, you do have somebody tellin' you what's what," he said. Now his voice wasn't raised, but was quieter. Jill might have

thought that was a good sign-but I knew-anybody that really knows Brian-well, we know it's not. It mostly means, coming after he hollers, that he's

even angrier. "Us doin' what we did today for you gives us that privilege."

Jill was shocked into momentary silence.

"We've tried, all of us, to welcome and understand you," Brian was saying. "You've been treated well in our home, and there's no way

to say that you haven't."

She was glaring at him and he said, again, "You can't say that's not true, Jill."

I thought I saw her eyes lose some of their fire. "I never said any such thing," she said, stiffly. "I know I've been treated well. All I'm saying is-"

Brian talked over her as though she hadn't spoken at all.

"You're not a kid-you ought to know when people are tryin' to do right by you, and help you," he said.

"Some appreciation would be good," Crane said, speaking up for the first time since we'd all loaded up into the truck and started driving. For Crane,

he sounded angry.

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate-I just-" Jill paused, and ran her hand thru her bangs. "Maybe you should have just left me there at the

Rusty Rocket or whatever-"

"The Rusty Bucket," I offered.

Nobody paid me any attention.

"Just left me there," Jill went on. "Every McFadden life would be a lot better if you had just let me be, and left me with Chess-"

"For a smart girl, you sure do say stupid things," Brian said, gruffly, shaking his head.

Jill blinked at him. I knew, as if by some female intuition, or something, that she was shocked at him saying that he thought she

was smart at all. What she said, though, was this, "What do you mean by that?" she demanded.

Brian gave her a steely eye. "What about Dan'l?" he asked.

"What about Daniel?" Jill echoed, but quieter.

"He one of the McFaddens whose life would be better if you'd stayed at The Rusty Bucket?" Brian asked, and I saw Jill's

demeanor change. She looked defeated and sad.

"Yes, Brian, I have no doubt about that," she said.

"Well, maybe you ought to ask him if he feels the same," Brian said.

"I guess that's so," Jill said, softly.

"That's what you do, then," he said, and settled back a bit, seemingly done with the conversation.

Jill looked at Brian, and then at Crane, and then, towards me. I gave her a look as if to remind her that I'd warned about

garnering Brian's wrath.

"Daniel's home, talking with the sheriff, and staring at the road, waitin' and worrying," Crane said.

Jill actually looked ashamed, as though she felt badly. "There was no need for the sheriff," she said, sounding a lot less confident.

"Well, we didn't know that, did we?" Crane countered. "We didn't know what sort of danger or trouble you were in."

Jill opened her mouth to speak, then closed it tight again. She kept quiet the rest of the way home, until we were nearly

to our road.

"Will the sheriff be there, at the house, do you think?" she asked.

"I don't know," Brian said, shortly. "Maybe. He'll want answers about your two friends, if he is."

"They're not my friends," Jill said, raising her head, and with a flash to her eyes again. "Just so you all know that-they're not."

I thought this might be the moment where either Brian or Crane demanded to know just who or what these two goons were to Jill, and I

was ready to know the answer. But, Crane was quiet, and Brian said, only, "Well, that fact might be what you want to start the conversation with, then."

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