"I hate pulling things! Especially when it's a cow!"

Not two weeks following the funeral of Lord Locksley, and Much was forced to pull Claribelle, a large heifer Robin had given his friend's family, by a rope tied around her neck.

"Go! Move, you stupid...you stupid...cow! Go! Giddyup!"

A voice right behind his ear, teasing, "Having fun, Much?" made him jump to the treetops.

"You! Why do you always, always do that?"

Robin, pleased with himself, laughed out loud, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "What did I do?" he asked, innocently.

"You know what you did! How do you sneak up on people, anyway?"

"How, or why?"

"I know why! There's something seriously wrong with you, did you know that, that makes you like to watch me jump! I asked you how!"

Robin, still grinning, ignored the question and studied Claribelle, who would rather stand still and eat the meadow grass than go where Much led her. "You're doing it all wrong, Much," he advised, cockily. "Maybe, instead of pulling, you should get behind her, and push."

For a moment, Much seemed to consider Robin's suggestion. And then, realizing the joke, he good-naturedly fumed, "Oh, no! I'm not pushing a cow, from behind! You do it, if you're so sure it will work!"

Much was glad to find Robin so merry, after such a short period of mourning his father's, and Will Stutely's deaths. He hadn't seen his friend much at all, since Robin had been orphaned and named Lord Locksley and the Earl of Huntington, and it was wonderful to find him acting his regular, impudent self. He didn't realize that it was indeed an act, for Robin still grieved, and was forcing his merriment, to put aside and forget his grief.

All at once, Robin grew serious. "There's Marian," he said simply, a hundred jumbled feelings colliding within him at the sight of the Sheriff's small daughter running toward them.

Robin hadn't seen her since his father's funeral, and the sight of her now, with her lovely blue eyes looking so kindly into his, made him worry he might break down and cry. Yet he was overjoyed to see her, too, having missed her for the past week and a half.

Marian knew better than to question him how he was, but she knew he must be hurting, and the motherly instinct already stirring within her made her long to comfort him, if he'd only let her.

"What are you doing with Claribelle?" she asked kindly, stroking the cow's sturdy back.

Robin didn't answer. He couldn't look any more into her kind, questioning eyes, fearing he might cry. Instead, he stared hard at her little white hand stroking the animal with so much tenderness, wondering how it would be to feel that soft caress.

Much spoke up. "Hello, Marian! I'm trying to pull Claribelle to Old Man Elbert's bull, so they can...can...Oh! You know what!"

"So they can be married?" Marian's sweet face and calm voice showed none of Much's blushing chagrin. "Do you want a husband, Claribelle?" she asked the cow, as if really expecting an answer.

Claribelle continued munching grass, completely unperturbed.

"That's where you're taking her?" Robin laughed to Much, recovering his merry façade. "I'd expect her to be pulling you there, instead of the other way!"

"Why do you say that?" Marian asked him, growing annoyed at his cocky demeanor and implication against her sex. "Not every woman wants to be married, you know! Think of all the nuns!"

"It all depends on whom they're marrying!" Robin laughed. "Take me, for instance! When I grow up, whoever catches me won't be able to wait to drag me into church!"

"And I suppose you'll try to run away, to escape?" Marian fumed, forgetting her sympathy in her outright anger.

It felt like a direct insult to her, somehow, though she couldn't explain why.

"Don't get angry Marian," Robin laughed, forgetting his unhappiness in his pleasure at provoking her. "All I'm saying is, the girl who wants to marry me, had better start practicing running now! I'm fast, you know."

Much, used to their arguments, ignored them. Digging his heels into the ground, he planted himself firmly to put all his weight into trying to budge Claribelle. But she didn't move a muscle.

Marian rolled her eyes over Robin's boastful audacity. Why do you have to act this way? I thought you'd be sad, over your father! You act like you don't even care!

"Let me try," she offered Much. "Claribelle will come with me, won't you, Girl?"

Thankful and relieved, Much handed her the rope. But Robin grew worried.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," he cautioned, serious once again. "Give me the rope, Marian. Once Claribelle catches the scent of Old Man Elbert's bull, she might start running."

"Toward him, or away?" she asked, smugly.

"I mean it, Marian," Robin warned. "She could drag you a mile or more."

"If she bolts, I'll let go of the rope! I'm not a fool, like some people." Noticing Much's wounded look, she hastily assured him, "Oh, Much! I didn't mean you."

Robin looked angry, and Marian wished she hadn't been so mean. But he had infuriated her, hiding any sign of grief, and bragging about how desirable he would be as some unknown girl's future husband. He'd made her furious, as she pictured all the girls in the shire chasing after him.

While her temper still raged, she didn't have any more success than Much had, trying to move Claribelle. Focusing on the cow, she calmed her nerves, and began speaking soothing words in her ear. "Come on, Claribelle," she coaxed. "You'll be a lovely bride, and in the spring, you'll have the loveliest little calf to take care of! Would you like me to put some flowers on your head?"

Marian stepped away to pick some goldenrod that had somehow escaped the first frost of the season, and returned to place it on Claribelle's head. With a single shake, the cow knocked off the flowers, caught them in her mouth and feasted on them as she had the meadow grass.

Marian simply rolled her eyes, picked up the end of the rope, and commanded, "Let's go."

To Much's surprise, the cow picked up her feet and walked alongside Marian.

"How did she do that?" Much asked Robin, aghast. "You have no idea what trouble that cow gave me!"

Robin didn't answer, but he felt a flush of pride rush through him, at Marian being able to command Claribelle.

I'd follow you, too, if you'd whisper in my ear, he thought, then was surprised that he'd thought it.

He wasn't entirely easy, letting Marian hold the rope. He didn't want anything to happen to her, should the cow decide to bolt. Still, he trusted Marian, knowing she'd let go of the rope, should anything happen.

He relaxed, and began to truly enjoy himself, in the company of the two people he liked best in the entire world. He pushed aside thoughts of his father and Will Stutely, and enjoyed the pale autumn sunshine, shining down on Marian's glossy dark hair.