The sun was high in the sky and the weather was perfect. Not a cloud could be seen. Sugar was in the middle of the herd goats, bucket of feed in hand, as they wiggled around her, bleating and gently butting her in the knees; some even bounced on their hind legs. As the lanky girl glanced up across the yard, she spotted Clara's goat Barbara, standing separately from the herd. All she did was stare at Shug, unblinking.

It was perplexing. Shug approached her, hand outstretched. "You okay, little girl?" The goats followed her a moment, then all seemed to stay back from the tiny patchwork creature.

Barbara's face looked so…sad. For a simple goat, she showed so much emotion in that little face. Sugar knelt before her, reaching to console her. "C'mon, baby girl, what's wrong?"

The goat spoke with the voice of a child. "Trouble's comin'."

The wave of shock that washed over Shug was enough that it made her heart ache in her chest as it pounded. Her eyes shot open and it took her a moment to realize she was safely still in bed. Sighing, she calmed herself with the reassurance that it was only a dream, nothing more. A few minutes passed before she was able to peel herself out of bed and noticed that Clara had already gone to tend to her daily chores. Checking the bedside clock, Shug grumbled at the fact that she had overslept and quickly began to ready herself for the day.

The day so far was pleasant and clear, with only a light, brisk wind blowing through the trees and whipping up small dust devils. Mike leaned against a fencepost, looking back toward the house, waiting for Kate. At breakfast, Kate told him that she wanted to show him something, and she seemed rather disturbed by whatever it was that she'd seen.

Having left the farmhouse a little early to take in the scenery, Mike watched as his sister staggered outside, heading immediately for the hen house. With a smile, he wondered if she remembered that she'd barely fit in there, but he imagined she wouldn't care much. Mike knew he wouldn't.

Honestly, he worried about her. They'd come to the ranch with the intent of making her feel more at home among family, but even with those good intentions, Mike quickly realized that if the others - Lucy especially - found out who Shug was, they could potentially make her life a lot more difficult. Maybe they'd reject her. Maybe they'd react like April had - a point which Mike knew still tore at Sugar like a new wound.

And he couldn't let that happen. No one was going to hurt his baby sister - least of all family. No, he'd wait 'til he thought the time was right, then he'd see if he could ease them all into the revelation.

The trouble would be keeping Sugar from saying anything.

Should he employ the usual? Scowl, grumble, yell, avoid? If they didn't discuss the point, she surely wouldn't go behind his back and tell. He knew her. Or, he thought he did…

His thoughts were interrupted when he spied Kate heading toward him. He joined her and they trudged across the farm until they stopped at an area with what looked like a fairly new fence around it. As they walked across the closed-in field, Mike noticed that the dirt felt strange under his boots. Sticky, almost. When the two of them finally stopped, it was at a pile of dark, strange-looking mud. Mike took a moment to scrape his boot heels on a patch of yellowed grass.

Kate gestured at the mudpile. "This…is my problem."

Mike knelt next to it, pinching a bit of the sandy stuff between his fingers and examining it. "That crude spread pretty bad, didn't it?" He wiped his hand on the hem of his jeans and stood again.

"This used to be mah best grazin' field," she sighed. "Now we gotta keep the goats up at the house so they don't get sick."

"Had to get rid of the cows?"

Kate looked grave. "Michael, honey, almost all of 'em died."

The boy blanched, sick with shock. "Oh no. No no no…" Those cows had been Uncle Jack's idea originally and the herd had grown rather nicely over the years. This was a serious blow to Kate in more ways than one. "We'll find a way t' fix it." Mike put his arm around his aunt's shoulder and hugged her close. "I'm not sure how yet, but we'll think of somethin'."

They were quiet a moment, surrounded by the sound of a few birds calling overhead and some of the chickens clucking away near the house. His friends' voices cheerfully carried on the breeze, making Mike's ears perk up. He heard Kate give a satisfied giggle.

"I've been talkin' to some nice people from an oil comp'ny here local," she said, shrugging out from under her nephew's arm. "That's how I was able to build onto th' house. They gave me an advance f'r th' rights to put a rig on th' property. "

Mike scrunched his face and gaped at his aunt, eyebrow raised. "You sure you wanna - "

"It's th' right thing, Michael," the older woman answered. "And don't worry. It'll be a small rig, not one o' them big, hulkin' things." Pointing at the oily sand pile again, she sighed. "It gets this off my property and gets me somethin' to put away f'r later." She gave Mike a pat on the back. "Gotta save somethin' for you kids."

"Now, Kate, you know you've got a lotta good years left in ya." Mike pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on her head a moment. "And you ain't gotta worry about me."

She shoved at him, reaching up to muss his hair. "And I know you're proud an' wouldn't dare tell me when you're havin' problems. You're that much like your mother." Her face softened into a smile again as she began to make her way back to the house. "Typical Nesmith."

"Hey, you married into it an' you're just as stubborn," Mike chimed as he caught up to her. He straightened his hair and readjusted his hat. "I learnt from th ' best."

Kate trudged across the field, stepping on any grassy areas she could find. "I still kinda wish you'd given me a little more warnin' that you were comin' to visit. Lucy an' I are goin' to Dallas in a couple days to work out th' final contract."

Mike's expression fell. "Aw no, I'm sorry, Aunt Kate. It was kind of a spur of th' moment decision."

"Well, after drivin' all that way just t' see us, I can't see sendin' you back home so soon." Kate patted him on the back as they walked together. "Clara's home on her college break, so she'll be here to mind things. B'sides, I'm sure you two have got a lot to catch up on. She's really missed you. You're th' closest thing she's ever had to a brother."

"My poor Lil' Bit," Mike said, shaking his head. "We'll help her hold down th' fort while you two are gone. Ain't that much trouble we can get into out here in th' middle o' nowhere!"

"Goats," Davy said, quizzically. "Why goats?" He was perched on top of the fence that circled most of the back yard, as Clara tended to feeding the anxious, hoofed creatures.

Without missing a beat, she answered rather matter-of-factly. "I like 'em. Momma likes 'em, too."

"What do they do, though?" He glanced over at Peter, who was busy playing with Barbara. "They eat garbage, I guess that's handy."

Clara stood, hand on her hip. "I'll have ya know they're not little walkin' garbage disposals. They're pretty picky about their food." A little brown goat with twisted horns nudged at her knee, then at the bucket in her opposite hand. She responded by holding out a handful of oats, which the goat ate happily. "Janice here likes bein' hand-fed, while Fred an' Ethel will only eat in their favorite spot." Clara nodded at a pair of goats which were patiently waiting at the far end of the food trough. "And if any of it falls on th' ground, ain't none of 'em gonna touch it." To prove her point, she tossed a small handful of grain into the dirt. The goats sniffed at it for a few seconds, then again turned their attention to the bucket.

Davy was not only surprised, but impressed. "What about little Babsie? Your farmhand was feeding her scraps the other night."

The tall girl finished spreading goat feed into the trough, patting each of the animals on the head lovingly as she left them to their meal. "Well, Barbara's different." She joined Davy at the fence, propping her back against it. "She's sort of my baby."

"Still, what do you get out of them?"

"Milk and wool for starters," Clara answered. "Not to mention they help keep th' grass from gettin' too high."

"What about - "

She stared at him over the rims of her glasses. "If you're 'bout t' ask me if we eat 'em, don't you even go there."

He shrank back, cringing. "Yes, ma'am."

"It's okay, Lil' Britain," Clara laughed and patted at his knee. "I ain't tryin' to scare ya. It'd just be like…I dunno, eatin' your friends."

"No, I get it. Wasn't trying to be nasty-like or anythin'." His face brightened as Clara climbed the fence and sat next to him. She hung the empty feed bucket on the next fencepost over. They watched as the goats mingled with one another, bleating and baa-ing between bites of food. One or two of the smaller ones would break to lightly butt heads with each other every once in a while. The quiet was getting to be a little too awkward for Davy's sake. "So…You're a vet?"

Clara beamed proudly. "On my way to bein' one!"

"I don't mean to be forward, but how do you manage all of this, studies and dating? If you don't mind my asking." He immediately regretted asking, as Clara seemed to fold in on herself.

"Davy, in case you hadn't noticed," she said quietly, "I ain't exactly th' pick of th' litter around here. That's Lucy. She's th' pretty one. She dates. I work."

"'Pretty' is subjective, y'know." Davy tried to be encouraging. "Just because someone is considered 'pretty' by what society thinks, it doesn't mean that they really are. I've met a lot of them."

Moving her glasses out of the way, Clara wiped at her eyes and took a steadying breath. "Mike's told me about you. There's no way you've ever had t' deal with an ugly girl in your life." She crossed her arms, propping them on her knees. "You should prob'ly try your sparkly eyes on Lucy."

"Clara…" Davy put a friendly arm around her. "You know how much flack I get for bein' short? And look at this." He pulled his bangs out of the way, showing off his heavy eyebrows. "I've been teased about these, too."

The girl seemed puzzled. "Why? They're just eyebrows. An' you cain't help it if you're little."

"When I was a little scrapper in school, I got into a lot of fights because people teased me." Davy pulled his bangs back down, brushing them into place with his fingers. "Girls, mostly. Not a great feeling. The teasing still happens."

Still baffled, Clara shook her head. "But you're…well, look at you. You're downright cute." Her cheeks flushed and Davy smiled. "That don't mean I'm sweet on you or nothin'."

"It means that you're perfectly normal," Davy said reassuringly. "And I had to learn to stop worrying so much about what total strangers think about me. They're not who matter in my life."

Clara leaned over, bumping her shoulder against his. "You ain't so bad. Not really."

"Aw, thanks, luv."

The goats finished their meal and began to disperse from the trough. Some went for naps, others played with each other. Clara slid down from her position on the fence.

"That's my cue to go clean things up," she said, grabbing her bucket. "Thanks, Davy."

As Clara returned to clean up after the herd goats, Peter approached the fence with Barbara hopping behind him, nipping at his fingers. "Barbara says you better be nice to her mommy."

"Oh, come on," Davy said, rolling his eyes. "Can't a guy be friends with a girl and it not be romantic?" He stopped a moment. "Wait - Barbara?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. She saw Clara was crying and got worried." The goat looked at Peter, then at Davy, almost in perfect agreement.

Davy was not plussed. "She's a goat."

"She's a smart goat," Peter firmly amended. Barbara butted her head against his leg and let out a stilted "mewp". He grinned at her. "You're welcome." Davy could only shake his head as he hopped off the fence.

Bleary-eyed and hair looking worse than usual, Micky at last emerged from the house, still clad in his pajamas. "Guys, it's….it's like noon-thirty or somethin'. People are tryin' to sleep. All I can hear is goats and chickens."

Barbara's ears perked up and she danced in little circles before taking off for the back porch. She gently butted Micky in the knee and jumped up and down, patting at him with her hooves. He cautiously patted at her head, then pushed her away. She persisted.

"Man, what's with the goat?"

Peter hurried to the porch, amused. "She likes you!"

"She's got a funny way of showing it," Micky groused as the goat butted at his legs again.

Barbara ran back toward Peter, again hopping around, then running back and forth between his feet and the bottom step of the porch, bleating like crazy.

"Aww, give her a little hug or something, Micky," Peter pleaded. "You're the Fluffy One and she likes you." Barbara did a triumphant dance, then returned to Micky, wagging her tail.

"How do you even know that's what she means?" Davy snickered. "She could very well want to bite him."

"Nope. She won't bite him." Peter crouched at the bottom step, reaching out to scratch the goat's cheeks. She mewped and blerped at him happily. "She likes him. She likes all of us, but she likes Micky the most." Barbara wagged her tail even harder.

A tug came at the blond's sleeve. It was Mikey. "Hey, Peter? Your girlfriend's got herself stuck in th' hen house." He thumbed over his shoulder, where a commotion in the tiny shack was clearly visible, complete with feathers flying out of the doorway.

Having finished cleaning up after the herd goats, Clara shook her head and ran toward the hen house. "She's as bad as Mike was. Too long a' legs in too small a' place. A nickel says she got herself tangled up in there."

The young farmhand tried to hide his amusement, then gave up, guffawing loudly. Davy gave him a shove in the ribs and the kid attempted to stifle his laughs, which resulted in a mad string of giggles.

"She just wants to help," Micky offered. He had at last relented and was giving Barbara a good scratch behind the ears. The goat butted at his hands, then leaned into them gleefully. "I guess you were right, Peter. She does like me!"

Mikey eyeballed the blond curiously. "You know much about goats? I mean, y'don't seem th' type." He winced at his own statement once it had escaped into the air. "Sorry, it didn't sound that bad in my head."

"Nah, it's okay," Peter replied happily. "I guess I kinda have a knack for dealing with animals. My Gram always said I had a gift." Barbara had returned to his side and he scritched at her back. "She and Poppy mostly had chickens and a couple horses, but I got along with 'em just fine."

The younger boy continued to study him to the point where Peter began to stare back and make faces. Mikey quickly directed his eyes elsewhere. "Y'just seem a little different, that's all."

"I think everybody says that 'cause I'm a little slow sometimes." Peter shrugged. "It's okay. I'm used to it by now."

Mikey shook his head. "Nah, it's somethin' else…"

The farmhand's musings were interrupted as Clara returned from the hen house with Shug in tow. The bespectacled girl was trying her best to keep a straight face as she carried a small bucket of eggs. Sugar stayed a few steps behind her, pouting as she swatted at the feathers and straw in her hair.

As luck would have it, Mike and Kate arrived back at roughly the same time. Mike ended up propped against a fence post, laughing until he was in tears. Clara cuffed him upside the head, knocking off his hat. The boy sank to the ground to pick it up, but was laughing so hard, he just sat down.

"Aw, c'mon, Mike," Clara fussed. "That ain't fair. You used t'do th' same thing! Ease up on her."

Sugar just stormed toward the house, steps firm and deliberate. She hadn't quite made it to the back porch when Kate met up with her and began plucking the feathers out of her hair.

"You're a mess, honey!" she exclaimed. "That hen house is a little on th' crowded side for a beanpole like you." As dutifully as a mother would, she quickly tossed the feathers aside, then brushed the bits of straw from Sugar's arms and shoulders. "Honestly, I should rebuild that thing. It's always been a problem. Figures you'd forget." She pulled Shug's hair out of her face, looping it behind her ears, then paused, almost studying the girl. Shug stood stock still, holding her breath.

"I didn't forget," Mike called from his seat at the edge of the yard. "But I guess I shoulda warned Legs over there."

"I said that ain't fair, Michael!" Clara shouted as she walked by her mother and the taller girl, then the boys, and entered the house with the collected eggs.

Kate closed her eyes, snapping out of her momentary daze. Her tone was firm, but still kind. "Now I appreciate your wantin' to help, but we got a way we do things around here. You ought to take someone with you if you plan to do chores. They'll explain you the ropes." She gave Shug an awkward pat on the shoulder, and was about to say something else when she was interrupted by the sharp crack of the kitchen window sliding open.

"Any chance y'all can stop yellin' at each other for five minutes?" Lucy shrieked from the kitchen window. "You're entarr'ly too noisy!"

Micky flailed his arms frantically. "That's what I told 'em!"

Lucy let out an irritated growl and slid the window shut before retreating into the recesses of the farm house. The silence that followed was more than a little uncomfortable for everyone, even Barbara, who cowered behind Peter for safety.

Kate groaned and pinched at the bridge of her nose. "That girl, I swear." She was quick on her heels, rushing into the house to deal with Lucy's temper.

Having recovered from his amusement, Mike picked himself up from the ground and joined the group at the porch. Sugar sidled up next to him, face looking ever hopeful.

"Mike, I think Kate knows," she whispered breathlessly. "She had this look about her…"

"Now, Sugar, you know as well as I do that Aunt Kate's got a real strong mother's instinct," he interrupted.

Shug pulled at the remaining chicken fluff in her hair. "But th' hen house. She said she figured I'd forget."

The male of the twins shook is head. "Nah, I was pretty sure she was talkin' to me, tryin' t' call me down cos I was funnin' you so much."

The pouting expression returned to Shug's face, subtly melting into something angrier. "I know what I saw." Sugar shoved her way past Mike, deliberately bumping her shoulder against his as hard as she could. She stomped by Davy and Micky to make her way into the house.

The other boys turned to face Mike, as did the young farmhand. Mike only glared back at them, his mouth a straight line across his face. "Don't give me that look, guys. You've got no idea." He stormed off in the opposite direction toward the barn.

Mikey turned to Peter. "They both got a temper, huh?"

With as much force as she could muster, Lucy threw clothes at her suitcase. There was no order, no rhyme or reason; she grabbed hold of a couple of her best dresses and underthings, wadded them up and launched them as though she was throwing rocks in the pond. Most everything ended up in a haphazard pile on her bed, with little actually hitting her target.

"Nobody ever wants t' listen to me," she groused. "Ah'm th' only one what makes sense around here…"

There came a firm knock on her bedroom door. "Lucy? Lucy, are you alright?"

"'M fine, Momma!" She wasn't really, but frankly at this point, she didn't care anymore.

"Don't you lie to me, young lady." Kate slid into the room, closing the door behind her. She groaned at the clothing scattered on Lucy's bed. "What's gotten into you?"

The blonde girl squeezed a pair of socks between both her hands and snarled. "Ev'rythin', Momma." She gestured toward the back of the house. "Let's start with you lettin' a buncha strangers in th' house. That ain't safe!"

Kate gaped at the girl through half-lowered lids. "Now, Lucille, it ain't like you don't know Mike's friends - "

Lucy stomped her foot and growled beneath her breath. Did that woman not understand? "It's Whatsherface, that girl! The way she looks at you an' me, its just unsettlin'!" And it was. There was something about that weird girl that put her off entirely. She always looked like she wanted to say something. Lucy was sure it couldn't be good, not when it sounded to her like the boys simply scooped her up off the street. What if she was dangerous? California wasn't exactly safe, not like their little swath of Texas. Too many strangers and shysters out West and Lucy was positive that Shug fit the bill. "She's gettin' way too familiar with Clara. You don't just meet someone an' then act like you're best friends."

Kate quirked an eyebrow at her daughter, half-smirking. "You got awfully friendly with Lil' Davy when he visited th' first time."

"….THAT'S DIFFERENT." Lucy returned her attention to packing her suitcase for the Dallas trip. It helped take her mind off how red her face and ears were probably getting. "B'sides, what if she's tryin' to weasel her way into bein' closer with us so she can get hold of your property?"

"I hardly think that's her motive f'r bein' here," the older woman argued. She tended to the clothes on the bed, folding them neatly and placing them into the open suitcase. "She's different, I'll give her that, but I don't think you've got anythin' to worry about."

"I don't like her, Momma. She's too weird." Lucy followed her mother's lead and, feeling slightly more calm, began helping her properly pack. They organized things in silence for a time before she spoke again. "Momma, I wish you'd let me handle this crude oil business. I've already talked t' this real nice businessman an' he said he could offer a better deal than th' one you're gettin' from Quality South."

Again, Kate gave Lucy a look of irritated disbelief. "I told you I could handle it. Why'd you go behind my back?"

"It's never a bad idea t' explore all your options," Lucy defended proudly. "Mr. Aught's already got th' basic paperwork ready an' all we have to do is sign it." It really was a much better deal, the proceeds of which would benefit Lucy for quite a long time.

"I've always told you kids t' take everythin' you're told with a grain of salt," Kate sighed. "Times like these, I wish y'all had been around when we had t' deal with snake oil salesmen. You could learn somethin' from that."

Lucy rolled her eyes in disdain. "Momma, I just don't think you know what you're doin'. This is important t' me!"

Kate's posture stiffened and she backed away from the suitcase, heading to the door. "I know how important this is, Lucille. That's why I'm takin' careful steps t' do what's right. You'd be wise t' do th' same." With that, Kate disappeared into the hall, most likely to go fuss over Clara or Mike or that weird girl.

"I know what I'm doin', Momma," Lucy snarled at no one. "I'm not stupid. Guess you'll all figure that out soon enough."

After a full day's work, or at least attempts at it for some, the Nesmiths and the Monkees again sat down to one of Kate's homecooked meals. As Shug took her place next to Clara, the bespectacled girl plucked a couple of remaining chicken feathers from the twin's hair and laughed. Sugar cracked a smile, relaxing again at last.

"Okay, no more chickens."

Kate could only shake her head in amusement as she set a platter of chicken on the table. "I swear to my time…" She at last took a seat at the head of the group, bowing her head in a quick prayer before tucking into the food. As chatter among the boys and girls went on around her, she couldn't help notice that Lucy seemed agitated. She continually checked her watch and would look toward the door.

Around the fifth or sixth consecutive glance at the door, Kate finally had to say something. "Lucy, honey, have you got a date y' didn't tell me about or what?"

The blonde girl crossed her arms and sank in her seat, indignant. "It's important, Momma, it's not some date."

"Well, surely whoever it is knows how to knock, so you can stop cranin' your neck like that." She gestured at Lucy with her fork, then pointed it toward her daughter's plate. "Eat up 'fore it gets cold."

Lucy responded by picking at her food and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room, save for Clara's goat Barbara, who sat patiently in the floor, waiting for her share of biscuits.

Conversation continued, as Peter explained the finer points of trying to under animals and Clara and Davy got into a discussion about retired race horses. Lucy managed to sneak another peek at her watch just as a heavy knock came at the front door. She was on her feet and out of the room in no time.

Kate lowered her fork and pressed her fingers against her temples. "Lucille Lynn, if you could just slow down f'r five seconds…"

Lucy wasted no time flinging open the front door. Before her stood a squat little man in a gray Western cut suit and a cowboy hat. He scratched at his goatee thoughtfully, then straightened his ribbon tie and smiled.

"Well, hello, Miss Lucy!" he said with a smile. His accent was as thick as Southern gravy.

"You're late," the girl snarled. "You said six an' it's half past."

The little man was quick to doff his hat and respectfully hold it to his chest. "And I am just so sorry about that, mah darlin'. I got a touch hung up on mah way. You know how it is out here on th' backroads." He looked up at her from hooded eyelids, slightly graying hair visible in the light from the house. He placed his hat back on his head and gave the girl a disarming grin. "I certainly do hope this doesn't affect our previous business arrangement."

The blonde stepped aside, offering the man passage into the house. "I might've been just a mite impatient, Mr. Aught. You come on in an' we'll get this taken care of."

He again removed his hat and nodded at her in thanks as he made his way to the sofa. He took a seat once Lucy joined him, pulling a carefully folded group of papers from the inside pocket of his jacket. He unfolded them onto the coffee table and smoothed the wrinkles from the pages. "Now, this is just th' standard agreement, of course. Although, there is th' clause you requested." He pointed at a block of text either the second or third page into the contract.

Lucy's face contorted into a frown and she took the contract from the table and flipped through it herself. If there was one good thing her mother had taught her, it was to make sure that before she signed anything, she needed to make sure it was in order. From what she could tell, everything within Mr. Aught's company contract seemed to check out. The paper itself gave her pause, as between the paragraphs were lines of bright red scrollwork, which flowed into all manner of fancy designs. Her expression relaxed as she examined the remainder of the contract and she placed it back onto the coffee table, nodding in contentment.

"Perfect. And Momma thinks I don't know a good deal when I see it," she said smugly. "I wanna thank you for comin' out here so late, Mr. Aught. It means a lot."

The man took Lucy's hand in his and patted it gently. "It wasn't any trouble at'all, my dear. Sulfur Dell is more than happy t' help with your unique predicament. A deal like this only comes long once in a lifetime." He retrieved a pen from his suit pocket and handed it to the girl. "You'd agree, wouldn't you, Miss Nesmith?"

She eagerly placed pen to paper, signing her name. "It's really th' best thing f'r all of us. Faster results, quicker dividends - Momma doesn't quite understand how today's business world works." She patiently waited as Mr. Aught reviewed her signature, puffing at the ink to make it dry faster. He looked at the contract and beamed, then put his hat back on.

"Lucy, your dinner's gettin' cold," Mike said as he tromped into the living room. "Your momma wants t' know what's takin' so long." He paused, eyes fixed on the stranger. There was something about him that made Mike take a step back.

"I'll have you know I am in th' middle of a very important business deal," Lucy snorted. She turned toward the stranger, who stood and tipped his hat at the taller boy.

Mike felt his skin crawl. Something about that man didn't set right with him. There was a kind of eerie familiarity about him, though Mike couldn't quite put his finger on it. He only knew that the little man had what felt like an insincere grin and a strange, acidic scent seemed to hang in the air around him. It was a touch nauseating. He cleared his throat, hoping that the putrid smell would dissolve soon. "Sorry for disturbin' ya, but it is kind of on th' late side. This couldn't wait till tomorrow?"

The blonde girl shook her head in firm disagreement. "Nope. It was…imperative that I get this taken care of t'night. So Mr. Aught made a special trip."

Sighing, the dark-haired boy cocked his hip and hooked his thumb into his back pocket. "That important, huh?"

"Indeed it is," the stranger cooed lowly, as he neatly folded the contract and placed it into his coat pocket. He held Lucy's hand a moment, cupping his opposite hand over the top of it briefly. "Thank you so much, Miss Nesmith, for allowin' me to call on you at such a late hour." He released her hand and headed toward the door. "You'll be hearin' from us real soon, dear."

With that, Mr. Aught slipped through the door and into the darkness outside. The odd smell hung in the air even after he had been gone a few minutes. Mike continued to force himself to breathe through his mouth until the sickening odor had faded. Unfazed, Lucy simply stood and walked back toward the dining room to rejoin the family.

"So…what line of work is he in, anyway?" Mike hurried alongside his cousin, almost blocking her from entering the room. He didn't want to say that he was worried, but…well…

Lucy shot a hateful look at Mike, then pushed her way aside. "I doubt you'd understand, 'specially since you're a city slicker now anyway." She was quick to put a smile on her face and once more took her seat at the table, leaving Mike standing in the doorway with a slight pout on his face.

What are you up to, Lucy?