AN: Sorry I haven't updated this in a while... AU has been more inspiring lately. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!

June 1930

"Sybil Anne Branson! Don't you dare walk away from me!" Tom's voice and steps thunder through the saloon after his daughter. His face is flushed, his jaw clenched. He opens it wide enough to shout again: "Sybil!" She knows exactly what she's doing, running into the library: it's where she'll have an ally.

And there she is, making up to her grandpapa, when Tom catches up. Telling Robert the whole story - or her side of it, anyhow, which consists mainly of a litany of complaints against her father. Tom stands just inside the door, arms folded, until she finishes. "I didn't hear you tell him about cutting across Mr. Collins' east pasture and leaving the gate open," he comments.

"Da-aaaa!" Sybbie whines. "You don't understand! Oooh!" She groans in frustration and stamps her foot. Robert holds up a placating hand before Tom can work himself up again.

"Sybil, have you told me everything?" he asks in that arbitrator's voice of his.

Tom's temper gets the best of him before Sybbie can answer. "It's all down to that governess. I told you we should've sent her to the village school. Miss Jakes is too naive. Sybbie can play her like a bloody - play her like a fiddle."

Cora enters the room in time to hear Tom's last words. "Oh, Tom," she says, "governesses have been naive since the beginning of time. Sybil's certainly not the first girl to give hers the slip."

"I've half a mind to get rid of her entirely," Tom says, but more quietly. "If she can't keep something like this from happening - "

Sybbie advances on him, eyes flashing. "You'd better not!" She yells. "If you send Miss Jakes away, I'll - " she presses her lips together, trying to think of something shocking enough - "I'll run away!"

"Oho, you will, will you?" Tom's half amused now. "And where will you go, then, girly?"

Sybbie wilts. "I - I haven't thought about it. But I will run away!" Her fists clench. "And you'll be sorry."

"Sorry! I don't know about that. Is something funny?" That last is directed at Robert, who has gone into a fit of what looks suspiciously like laughter disguised as coughing.

Robert's mouth works. "Nothing, nothing." Cora seems to have caught it too: her cheeks are pink and she's looking anywhere but at her husband.

Tom shakes his head. "Well, I don't see anything amusing about half a herd of sheep left to wander off," he snaps. "Mr. Collins and his man spent half the morning rounding them up, when there's plenty of other work that needs doing. Some of them had gotten into the road. What if one had been run over? That's a man's livelihood, Sybil."

The girl lowers her head, cheeks flaming. "I didn't think."

"No. You didn't. That's the problem." He can see a pair of tears making tracks through the dust on his daughter's face, and feels a pang of remorse. But the lesson must not go untaught. "You're going to go to Mr. Collins and apologize. And you'll work for him every morning for the next month. Whatever he tells you to do, you do it. That's if he'll even have you."

Cora gasps. "Tom, certainly that's too much - "

Tom cuts her off. "A little work's not going to hurt her. I dare say Miss Jakes' curtseying lessons can wait until afternoon."

Sybbie brightens. "Then you won't sack her?"

"No. I won't sack her." Tom is bemused when Sybbie launches herself at him and throws her arms around his waist, burying her face in his shirtfront. She's gotten so tall.

"Thanks ever so much, Da." Her voice is muffled. She releases him and pounds out of the room.

"You should be glad she's so fond of her governess," Robert remarks. "Our girls hated theirs. But then, she was rather a battle-axe."

Tom snorts. "Governesses. I don't know why I let you talk me into one." But his tone is mild.