As we were eating breakfast, they all started talking about Evan's rodeo that weekend. He was going to

leave that afternoon, and drive to Modesta with two friends of his from the area, where they'd stay

the night and then compete tomorrow.

"I figured I'd go along with," Daniel said. "Show family support and all for Eva-lynn here."

Evan usually goes crazy when Daniel calls him that, but now he just grinned, looking happy that

Daniel was going to be there to see him compete.

"That okay?" Daniel asked Brian.

With Adam and Guthrie gone, and Evan gone until late tomorrow, and somebody having to do

my chores, if Daniel was gone too, that left alot of chores for just Brian and Ford.

"Yeah, it's fine," Brian said. "We can manage until tomorrow. It's good Evan'll have somebody

there for him."

"But I've got you two until this afternoon, so let's get moving," Brian told Evan and Daniel. "I want

to go all around the south corner. Couple places need patched up there."

"I need to run up to Jimmy's," Evan said.

Jimmy, being Jimmy Thompson, a friend of Evan's, whose family lives on up from us.

"What for?"

"He's still got my roping saddle that I let him borrow last week."

"Short notice to be worrying about it," Brian said. "I'd tell you to use mine, but you won't, will you?"

"Nope," Evan said. Evan worked all one summer for a neighbor when he was 14 and used

everything he made to buy his saddle, and he says it brings him luck.

"Well, all right, then," Brian said. "Go on and get it."

Daniel stood up and scooted his chair in, and so did Ford.

"Evan's nervous, aren't you, Ev?" Daniel said. "Might not be safe for him to drive. Maybe I

oughta drive him up there."

Brian's eyes narrowed. "Is that right?"

"Yeah," said Ford. "And Daniel might have forgotten the way. Maybe I oughta go, too."

"It takes three of you to drive up there, huh?"

They were all snickering now, and Brian waved a hand at them.

"Alright, you clowns. Go on, but don't be gone all morning. Just meet me up at the south

corner when you're done."

"You want to ride along, squirt?" Daniel asked me.

Before I could even answer, both Brian and Crane spoke at the same time. "NO!"

"No way is she going to ride up that rocky road, and shake her back up," Crane said.

I wouldn't have minded getting out of the house, but I was okay with not going, too.

I decided to take a stand. "Brian, take Crane with you up to the south corner this morning."

Crane and Brian both looked at me in surprise.

"Well," I said, to Brian. "You need help, don't you? Crane can go with you. I'll

be fine. "

"Oh, I don't know-" Crane started.

"Brian, tell him I don't need a babysitter for a few hours. Tell him you need his help."

"Well," Brian said slowly, "I DO need his help. But I don't know about you not needing

a babysitter."

"Come on, Bri!"

I looked at Daniel for help. He winked at me. "You know, Crane, I heard they were looking

for a nurse at the prison in San Quentin. I bet you could get the job, hands down. Kind

of combine the whole nurse/warden thing."

Crane had Daniel in a headlock before anybody even saw him move.

"You know," he said, not even acting like he was winded by holding onto Daniel. "I'm getting

a little bit tired of the disrespect I've been getting from you babies."

Daniel was laughing, and struggling. "Okay, okay!"

Crane let him go, and straightened up to his full height. "You'll stay in the house?" he asked me.

"Yes, I promise."

"And don't do anything you're not supposed to."

"No. I won't reshingle the roof, or repaint the ceilings."

"Alright, funny girl." He gave me a gimlet-eyed look, and muttered something about how

the inmates at San Quentin would probably be better behaved, and more respectful than

all of us kids.

Daniel winked at me again, and I gave him a thumbs up sign.

7

When they'd all gone, and I had the house to myself, I got a Coke out of the secret stash beside

the washing machine. I don't know why Hannah calls it the secret stash, because we all know

it's there.

I got out my homework and spread it over the kitchen table. I started thinking about what

Daniel had said about how I hurt Evan's feelings. I'm able to admit that I'm prickly and sometimes

rude with Evan, but he's no angel himself. He can be prickly and rude, too. But he could be nice, too,

sometimes. He lets me drive when we're out together, and he'd stood up to Charles for me about

that stupid calendar.

I decided to make some cookies, and send them with him on his way to Modesto this afternoon.

Oatmeal raisin are Evan's favorite, so I searched thru the kitchen cabinets and the pantry for

the ingredients I'd need. Hannah's good about keeping food stuff stocked up, so we had

everything I needed except stick butter, and I figured regular butter would work just as well.

Stirring the dough hurt my back a little, but I managed to do it. I got the first batch in the oven, and

sat down at the table to do my homework.

They came out looking and smelling great. I nibbled on one, thinking I must be getting my

appetite back a little. I let them cool, and then wrapped eight of them up in foil and went to the

living room, where Evan had left his duffel bag, already packed with clothes.

I put the foil wrapped package on the bottom of the bag, under Evan's dress shirt. After

I put more cookies in the oven, I thought maybe I should put a note in with the cookies.

I sat back down at the table, collecting my thoughts, and started writing.

Dear Evan,

I erased the Dear. Evan would never let me hear the end of that.

Evan,

I hope you like the cookies. You can share with Daniel and Jake and Tim if
you want to.
Daniel says I hurt your feelings sometimes. I don't mean to. I guess I
just like arguing with you.
I know you'll do great tomorrow.
I'm sorry about the rotten apple. I won't do that anymore, (unless it's my
birthday or something, ha)
Harlie

I read it over with a critical eye. It was nice, but not too sappy. I went to put it around the

cookies in the bag. I was back in the kitchen doing English when I heard pounding on the front

door. Not knocking. Pounding. I went slowly to the living room, and peeked out thru

the window. There was a white car parked in the driveway, the front fender smashed in.

More pounding. I twisted to get a look by the door.

When I saw that it was Allison's boyfriend, Todd Roy, I let the curtain drop. I wondered

what he wanted. I hardly knew him. I'd met him a couple of times when he came to school

to pick Allison up, but I'd never really talked to him.

He dropped out of school a couple of years before, doesn't have a job, and it's a known fact

that he smokes weed. And a lot of it.

I tried to make a quick decision. I thought I'd see what he wanted, and then send him

on his way.

I opened the door slowly, and stood in the doorway.

"What do you want, Todd?" I asked.

"I want to talk to you," he said. "How come you won't go along with Allison's bambi

story? Her old man's giving her grief."

"That's not my fault."

"All you gotta do is say there was a deer. No big deal."

When I didn't answer, he said, "Why won't you help Allie? She'd do it for you."

"You need to go," I told him.

Todd stepped closer to me. He kind of leaned around me to look into the

living room. "Where is everybody?" He gave me a smile I didn't care for. "You all

alone?"

I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I took a step back.

"No, Crane's in the kitchen, and Ford and Brian are in the barn."

"Harlie, Harlie, Harlie. I don't think there's anybody here at all."

"I want you to go. Now."

Todd stepped directly in front of me, and laid his hand on my arm, rubbing

it up and down. I could smell the marijuana on him. He positively reeked of it.

"You know," he said, leaning his head close, "I've always thought you were

a hottie. Makes Allie mad as hell when I say it, too."

I was surprised by that, and since I didn't know what to say, I said nothing. I took

a step back, preparing to go in and slam the door.

Todd closed the space between us again.

"Why can't you just be nice? Say there was a deer."

I glared at him, and he squeezed my wrist. I tried to jerk away, but he tightened

his hold, putting his other hand on my shoulder. "Don't mess with me. "

My temper overrode my common sense and I slapped his hand off my shoulder and gave him

a shove.

I twisted to go inside, but he caught my arm again. "Listen, you little bitch, you don't want to

make me mad!" I wished that my brothers hadn't taken Gus with them. Good old Gus, he

would have taken care of Todd.

One minute we were struggling, and the next Todd was being plucked off of me, and

was facedown in the dirt in front of the porch steps, Evan on top of him. Evan was landing blows

all over Todd's face, and then yanking him to his feet. I hadn't even seen Ford yet, but there he was,

leaping onto Todd's back.

"Get off of him, Ford!" Evan was yelling.

Ford either didn't hear, or didn't care, because he stayed where he was, while Todd tried to

shake him off his back. I saw Todd manage one blow to Evan's nose, but other than that, he

had no chance, because everytime he twisted to try to shake Ford off, Evan would punch him again.

Evan was still yelling at Ford to get off, and Todd managed to reach back and grab a handful of

Ford's shirt, yanking on it. With another punch from Evan, Todd went to the ground, and Ford

leaped up, standing beside Evan.

I was standing on the stairs, horrified by what was happening, yet unable to look away. I had

a hysterical urge to giggle, thinking Ford looked like he was at a rodeo, the way he'd been

hanging on Todd.

Todd's mouth was bleeding and he had a cut over one eye. He got up and nearly ran

to his car.

"Don't ever come back here!" Evan yelled at him.

"Never talk to Harlie again!" Ford hollared.

Todd peeled out of the driveway, throwing gravel, and we watched as he veered off the

driveway, his car going into the field and then back onto the road.

Evan and Ford both came up onto the porch, and Ford took my arm.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm okay." I said, but I was shaking.

Evan came closer. "What's he doing here?"

"He wanted me to go along with Allison about the deer in the road."

"Did he threaten you?" Evan asked, looking furious.

"Your nose is bleeding," I told him.

"Never mind that! Did he threaten you?!"

"He said not to mess with him. He called me a bitch-"

Ford saw me shaking and put his arm around my shoulder. "It's okay now, Harlie."

"Where did you guys come from?" I asked them.

"We came down the back to get some more wire for Brian," Ford told me.

"I'm sure glad you did," I said. I looked again at Evan, his nose dripping blood, and Ford's

shirt, one sleeve ripped open. "Your nose is bleeding," I said again to Evan.

"It's fine."

Then-we smelled the smoke.

"Something's on fire!" Ford yelled.

"It's the cookies!" I told them, and we ran into the house.

Smoke had gone from the kitchen and was filling the living room. When we got to the

kitchen, Ford opened the back door and the windows. I turned the oven off while Evan

went back to the living room, opening windows in there, too.

Ford took a hot pad and opened the oven, waving the smoke away, and pulling

out the two cookie sheets, and the charred remains that were on them.

He set the cookie sheets outside, and then we tried waving the the smoke out of the

kitchen.

"Those are Hannah's new cookie sheets," I said, looking at them smoldering out the

back door.

When I thought things couldn't get any worse, we heard the Jeep's engine. I looked

at the boys in horror. "No way to hide this, huh?" I said.

"Nope," Evan said.

Brian and Crane and Daniel came rushing into the house followed by a barking Gus,

yelling for me, and when they burst into the kitchen, Crane looked frantic.

"You guys okay?" he asked.

Ford and I nodded, and Evan said, "Yeah."

"We were heading back up there with the wire," Ford said casually, his torn shirt hanging

from his arm.

"Yeah. We were just heading that way," Evan said, swiping at his bloody nose.

Brian made what looked like a leisurely stroll thru the kitchen, looking things over.

"We thought we'd stop for lunch," he said.

Crane pushed at a charred cookie that had fallen on the floor with the toe of his boot, and waved at the

smoke. "I knew I should have stayed home," he said.

"So," Brian said, as casually as if he were inquiring about the price of a horse. "what's the story?"

I looked at Evan, and he looked at Ford, and Ford looked at me.

"It looks like there'd be a story, doesn't it?" I said lightly.

"Considering that the house is full of smoke, Ford's shirt is hanging off his back, and Evan's

dripping blood all over the floor, then, yeah, it seems like there'd be a story," Brian said.

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