It was while Evan and Guthrie and I were riding that afternoon, that we had the first real scare. Well, for me, it was the

second one, since I'd been with Adam when the gunshots were ringing out over our heads.

We'd ridden for over an hour, and only managed to account for half of the cattle we were checking on. It was my job

to keep track in the notebook I was carrying in my pocket.

"Where d'ya think they're at?" Guthrie asked, as the three of us paused in our riding.

"I don't know," Evan said, looking across the distance, and taking off his hat to wipe an arm across

his forehead.

"It's weird," Guthrie said.

"Yeah. Somethin' feels off," Evan said.

"Like what?" Guthrie asked.

"I don't know," Evan admitted. "I can't put my finger on it."

"I'll check over there," he said then, pointing to a wooded area. "Guthrie, you check the last fence."

"What about me?" I asked him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just sit tight a few minutes, and hang out here. Count out how many cattle exactly that we're short," Evan said, and rode off.

I pulled the notebook out of my shirt pocket, and flipped it open, as Guthrie took off the other direction. I was scanning

the numbers of the cow ear tags, and the check marks or lack of them that I'd marked beside.

I put the notebook back into my pocket when I was done counting, and sat there, enjoying the breeze interspersed with

the sunshine. I thought I heard a dog bark, and I tilted my head a little, listening. When it was quiet, I told myself

I'd been mistaken. Then I heard it again. A very slight yapping.

I turned to look behind me. I was only a short way from our line cabin, which we never use, really. Guthrie and Ford

and I used to play there when we were younger. I'd even bugged the boys until they let take an old set of curtains up

there and hung them on the dirty windows.

I considered for a short moment, and then turned Petra, riding back just a short ways. I could see the

roof of the line shack from where I sat, atop Petra. It was hard to see anything else, though. I listened again, straining

to hear. I wondered if there was somebody hanging around the line cabin. Maybe a hunter. Maybe one of my brothers

had given a friend permission to stay there.

I looked back from where I'd ridden from, to the spot that Evan had said to wait at. It wasn't that far. I swung down

from Petra, and walked to the edge of the ravine. If I slid down it a ways, then I'd be able to see better.

Maybe just a bit. I slid down, ending up on my bottom near the middle. I stood up and found a fir tree to step behind. I

was still a good bit away from the cabin. I watched, seeing nothing from that distance out of the ordinary. Then

a dog ran around the side of the cabin, yapping. A medium-sized dog, a light brown. The front door of the cabin was

flung open, and the dog ran inside. The door slammed shut again.

So there was someone there!

I could hear a raised voice, and I squeezed behind the tree, as though I could stay hidden. I would have gone back up the

ravine, but I thought I should wait now. Whoever was inside might come out and see me, struggling to climb up.

Then I told myself I was being silly. It was probably just one of Brian's hunting buddies.

Suddenly, a second after I heard rustling behind me, a hand came around, covering my mouth. It closed over me, another arm

around my front, before I even had a chance to see what the rustling had been. I struggled immediately, instinctively,

but the arm, and the hand, too, were both too strong.

"Harlie, it's me," said a whisper in my ear. And then he lowered his hand from my mouth, and I twisted to

look at Evan.

"Ev," I whispered back. "You scared me!"

"Quiet," he ordered, low, and looked towards the cabin. We stood there like that for a few minutes, I don't really know

how long. Both of us just watching, and listening.

There was the sound of the dog barking, from inside the cabin, and the sound of a man's voice, yelling, though it

was hard to make out the words.

Then, there was the sound of a revving motor, and a black ATV roared up in front of the cabin, and

a man got off. He wore a ball cap, pulled over his face, low, but the way he walked...

"Ev-" I whispered, but he held up a hand to me, warning me to stay still.

The man who'd just arrived shut off his ATV, and walked into the cabin without knocking. Evan waited a moment

or two longer, and then turned to me.

"Get back up to your horse," he said, really quiet.

"Are you coming?" I whispered, feeling my heart thumping with nervousness.

"Yeah, I'm comin'. Go on."

I scrambled up the ravine, stumbling a couple of times, and the last time, I felt a hand on my lower back,

giving me a push. It wasn't a particularly gentle push, either. At the top of the ravine, when we were out of sight

of the cabin, Evan dropped his hand, but before he did, he gave me a smack on the seat of my jeans that was

hard enough to nearly make me lose my footing.

I wanted to holler at the quickness and the sting, but I didn't, since it seemed we were still incognito. Evan reached

out and grabbed the reins of Diablo, interrupting the horse's grass nibbling. I picked up Petra's reins, and followed

him as he walked away from the edge of the ravine.

When we were a good distance away, back to where he'd told me to wait at to begin with, he turned on me,

looking furious. "What the hell are you thinkin'?" he demanded.

"I heard a dog-"

"So what? You heard a dog," he said in dismissal. "It wasn't your place to go skulking around down there."

"Well, I was right," I defended myself. "There is somebody down there, in the cabin-"

"You know better than to do somethin' like that," he said. "With everything that's goin' on around here

lately, why would you do somethin' so boneheaded? If I could sneak up behind you that way, what makes you think

somebody else couldn't have done the same thing?"

"I'm sorry!" I said. I could see he was absolutely, completely livid, and I realized that once again, I'd acted first,

without thinking. Angry at myself, I gave him a pleading look. "I should have waited for you."

"Yeah, you should've," he said shortly.

"I said I was sorry, Ev," I protested.

He gave me a hard look, and then turned to walk further, leading his horse. I followed behind, rubbing where

he'd smacked me. It was still stinging, and I wished I had enough nerve to say something, or tell him off about it,

but I knew I'd never get by with it. He'd just get more angry.

Even knowing all that, though, I found myself digging my hole deeper.

"So I'm boneheaded," I muttered, to his back, as I trailed behind him. "You didn't have to smack me so hard."

He stopped walking so quickly that I nearly plowed into him. He turned on me, and his voice wasn't low any

longer. "You want me to do it again?" he threatened.

Well, I sort of wilted. "No," I said.

He gave me another glare and then turned to start walking again.

For the one millionth time, I wondered how it was with other girls, that had brothers that they could yell

and scream at, order them around, and do anything without repercussions at all.

We reached a point, and Evan stopped walking. "We'll wait here for Guthrie," he said.

"Okay," I said.

I hesitated, watching his profile. "I think that was Seth, the boy going into the cabin."

Evan gave me a quick glance, frowning.

"You know," I prompted, "Seth. That kid from last year that-"

"I know who you mean," Evan interrupted.

"Well, I think that was him."

"It's pretty far away to be sure of somethin' like that," he pointed out.

"I know, but I think it was."

"Hmm," he said, looking thoughtful. "I didn't know he was even back around here again."

I shrugged in reply.

"Well, you can tell them that. We'll have to let the sheriff know what's goin' on," Evan said.

"What do you think is going on?" I asked him. "I mean, really going on."

"I don't know." He sighed, looking worried. "But I know one thing. We're gonna have to get our cattle out

of this area."

"Are they rustling cattle?" I asked, thinking that I might have hit upon the answer to the mystery.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure it's that. But if they're moved in, like they own the place, then

our cattle might be in the way of rifle fire, or whatever they're up to."

"Why would Seth and whoever else it is, be staying in the cabin?" I pondered. "Maybe they just don't have anywhere

else to stay or something?"

Evan shook his head again. "I don't know."

"It's weird," I said.

"Yeah."

We could see Guthrie at a far distance, riding toward us.

"There he is," Evan said.

"Are we gonna keep looking for the other cattle?" I asked him.

"No. I don't want you, or Guthrie either, up here now. I wanna get home, let everybody know what's goin' on," Evan said.

"Okay." I hesitated, trying to read his face. "Am I still in the doghouse?"

He turned to look at me. "I ought to kick your butt. Doin' somethin' dumb like that. What if they'd seen you?"

I sighed, and he mounted Diablo, looking towards Guthrie, who was getting closer, as I climbed back up onto Petra.

After a couple of long moments Evan said, "I guess you're not in the doghouse."

"Okay," I said, relieved that he wasn't going to stay mad at me.

As we began to ride back, three across, Evan filled Guthrie in on what was going on. When he told Guthrie that I'd thought I

recognized Seth, Guthrie leaned forward in his saddle, his jaw tightening.

"Man, I knew it," he said. "That no-good, sorry son of a buck!"

"Can't accuse people without proof," Evan said.

"Well, but if Har thinks it's him," Guthrie said, all stirred up, "She ought to know what he looks like."

Guthrie was more agitated than I'd seen him be, in a long time. "We ought to come back up here at

dark tonight, and get up on the roof, and drop a couple of smoke bombs down the chimney," he said.

"Shut up, Guthrie," Evan said. He said it quiet-like, but he said it. And it got Guthrie's attention, too.

"How come?" Guthrie demanded.

"Because. You're not that stupid. Or," he paused, giving Guthrie a glare, "At least I hope you're not

that stupid."

"This from the same guy that was all gung-ho to give that Richard hell last year, because he

got too friendly with Har at some party," Guthrie reminded Evan. "That was you, remember? You organized

that little soiree."

"I know," Evan said. "But that was one guy. Some city kid. And besides, I regret that. I shouldn't

have taken you and Ford up there. You could have gotten into trouble, and it would have been my fault."

While I listened and Guthrie stared at Evan, disbelieving, Evan went on, "This situation here, it's

actually dangerous. There's guns involved. I mean, whoever is shooting near the reserve in the dark,

and running traffic in and out, they're up to somethin' big. And as of yet, we don't know if Seth and the other guy, if it is Seth, are

a part of all that, or not. So, to threaten to come up here and try to smoke them out, or somethin' else

stupid like that, well, you better just shut up now."

I could tell Guthrie didn't appreciate being talked to that way, but he tightened his jaw, and was

silent.

I thought over what Evan had said before, as we finished the ride home. He'd changed since he'd

gone to the college that day, to lead the posse of brothers in making Richard pay for what he'd done to me. I gave

Evan a look without seeming obvious. Yep. He'd changed. He'd grown up. All the way.

7

Back at home, we unsaddled our horses, each of us putting the tack away, and none of us saying much.

We could hear the sound of the Jeep's motor a few minutes later, and Adam came to the door of the barn, as

we were all leading our horses back out.

"Hey," he greeted us, pulling off his gloves. "How'd everything go?"

"Not so good," Evan said, and went on to explain that not only could we not locate a third of the cattle, but we

had a couple of guys instilled in our line cabin.

Adam's jaw tightened, much like Guthrie's had earlier. "Damn," he said.

"Harlie thinks one of them might be that Seth kid," Evan went on.

"That punk that was causin' trouble?" Adam demanded. "The one you got in a fight with at school, Guthrie?"

"Yes, sir, that's the one," Guthrie said, and I could tell he was still all riled up.

"The 'nails in the tires' kid," Adam went on, giving me a glance, and I felt my face turn a little red.

"Uh huh," I said, with a nod.

We'd been joined now by Daniel, and Crane as well. More talking. I made my exit, going inside to change to

shorts and a tank top, coming back downstairs to help Clare and Hannah start supper.

I told them both about the afternoon's drama, and while Clare looked concerned, Hannah looked more than concerned.

Worried. Closer to frightened.

When Adam came in, along with the rest of my brothers, he went to the sink to wash his hands, and Hannah

came up, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Hey," he greeted her, kissing her forehead.

"This is awful," she said.

"We don't know that the guys in the cabin have anything to do with the other things that are goin' on," he

said, sounding calm.

"We don't know that they don't, either," Hannah pointed out.

"She's got a point," Daniel said, and was rewarded for his comment by a dark look from Adam.

"I'm gonna go ahead and call the sheriff now, before I sit down to eat," Adam said, and went towards

the living room.

Everybody else started sitting down, and fixing their plates of food. The conversation consisted of

the cattle, and who was going to do what, and after about fifteen minutes, Adam came back. He sat down

at his own seat, and Daniel handed off the platter of meatloaf to him.

"What'd they say?" Brian asked him.

"They're gonna send somebody over," Adam said. "And then we'll go up there."

"Tonight?" Hannah asked, in surprise.

"Yeah."

At Hannah's look of worry, he said, "There's a lot of daylight left. It'll be alright."

By the time supper was over, and Clare and I had started doing up the dishes, we heard noise from

the living room, and the door opening and closing, and voices. Voices that weren't McFadden voices.

"The sheriff must be here," Clare said.

A moment or so later, Brian called to me. "Harlie! Comere."

I laid down my dishtowel, and went to the living room. The sheriff who had come just the day before, was standing there,

and a deputy, too, though a different one.

"Hello there, Harlie," the sheriff said.

"Hello," I said, going to stand beside Crane.

"Sit down," Brian told the men, and they both took a seat on one of the couches.

"Adam says you think you might know one of the fellas you saw up at your cabin today," the sheriff said.

I nodded. "I think so."

"And you think it is, who exactly?" he asked.

"His name is Seth Foreman. He used to go our school, last year," I said.

"You got a close enough look to believe that it was him?" the sheriff asked.

I began to feel a little nervous. I looked at Evan, who was sitting on the arm of the other couch, just listening.

"Well, not that close." I shot Evan a silent plea for help.

"About an eighth of a mile, or so," Evan said.

"That's a far piece to be able to recognize someone," the sheriff said. "I'm not doubting you, you understand, I just

need to be certain."

"Yes, sir," I said. I didn't know what else to say, really.

"What was it that made you think it was him? Since you couldn't see his face clearly?" he asked me then.

"It was the way he walked," I said, and everyone in the room looked at me as though they were puzzled. Well, except for

Guthrie.

He spoke up, from where he stood beside Brian. "I know what she means. He's got a real definite way that he walks."

The sheriff regarded both Guthrie and I with interest. "In what way?"

Guthrie looked at me, and I looked at him. "Well, he sort of swaggers," I said.

"Swaggers?"

"Yes, sir," Guthrie said, and walked a couple of feet, with a mimicking of Seth. "Sort of like that."

"Well, that would be fairly definite, alright," the sheriff said, and I thought he looked a little amused.

"Where does this boy live?" the sheriff asked then. "Around here? I'm not familiar with the name."

"He's got a cousin, Joe," Daniel contributed to the conversation. "And an uncle in Murphys."

"He's been gone for a while," Guthrie threw in. "He left last fall and went somewhere else. To live with his dad, I heard."

"Well, the way a fellow walks isn't necessarily enough to accuse, but we'll check it out," the sheriff said. "Let's take a

run up there then, and see what we can find out," he added, and got to his feet. "What about the other man? The one inside the

cabin?" he asked then, pausing, his hat in his hand.

"We didn't see him," Evan said. "Only heard him yellin' from inside."

"They had a dog, too," I spoke up. "I don't know if that's important or not."

"It might be," the sheriff said, looking at me. "What sort of dog?"

"Medium sized. Sort of a light brown," I said.

"Alright. Thank you, kids," he said to Guthrie and I, and he and his silent deputy went out onto the front porch, waiting

as Adam, Brian and Crane got their rifles and followed them out.

Clare was standing there, and she was wringing her hands together. "I don't like this. Not at all," she said.

Daniel gave her a side hug. "It'll be fine," he said.

"I need to keep busy," she said. "Has Isaac had his bath?" she asked Hannah.

"Not yet."

"I'll do it," Clare said, and scooped Isaac up from where he was playing on his blanket on the floor. "Come on, little man."

After she'd walked away, carrying Isaac up the stairs, and everybody else started going back to their own chores, I sat there for

a long few moments, thinking. Things were getting more strange all the time. I couldn't help the shiver that ran down my back.

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