So the boys went to gather up our stuff, the rifle and the first aid kit. I waited just outside, while they went to do that, and blow out

the candles that Evan had lit.

We set out, all of us determined in our own way. My determination was to get home, to our comfortable living room couch, after having

changed out of wet soppy jeans. I would, I thought, be warm and toasty after putting on pajamas, and eating myself silly.

"I'm gonna eat up everything that's left in the refrigerator," Ford said, at one point in our brisk walking.

I don't know how long we'd walked. I wasn't even paying much attention to the surroundings. I was just intent on putting one foot

in front of the other.

I tried to keep my feet moving, even though my spirit was lagging. But I tried my best to not show that. I didn't want Evan

saying 'I told you so' again.

I wasn't so good at pretending, I guess. Evan eventually paused in his determined walking, to stop and turn back to look

at me.

"You alright?" he asked me.

"Yes. Great," I said, with forced cheerfulness.

Evan sighed, and handed off the rifle to Ford. Then he turned his back to me, and bent his legs a little.

"Come on," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"Climb on. Let's go," he said.

"I don't need a piggyback ride," I said, trying to sound insulted. "I'm okay."

"Let's go," he said again, turning to give me a look that rated a seven at least, on the scale of impatience.

"You can't tote me all the way home," I protested, though not as stubbornly. I was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer.

"It's just until you get your wind back," Evan said. His face softened a little. "Come on, Har."

So I hopped upwards, onto his back. He situated my legs with his hands, and then began walking again.

"You can say 'I told you so' if you want to," I said softly, leaning my head towards his ear.

"I wouldn't," he said. "You're tougher than a lot of men that I know."

I gave him a squeeze with my arms that were around his shoulders. "Thanks, Ev," I said, humbled.

7

So on we went. At one point, I got so sleepy that I was actually having difficulty keeping my eyes open. I was in that

sort of haze, trying to stay awake, when thru the sticky afternoon air, we all heard the sound of a truck motor.

"Whoo hoo!" Ford said in glee.

That was enough to rouse me from my sleepiness. I raised my head up to look in the direction that Ford was pointing in.

There, coming across the grassy patches, was the old farm truck. The one that Brian says is good for 'Point A to B', but

always adds to not request it to make it to 'Point C'.

"The cavalry has arrived!" Ford said.

"Glory Hallelujah," Evan added, and stopped walking, where I slid off of his back.

"Praise the Lord and pass the biscuits," I said.

The truck was almost up onto us, and I could see that Adam and Daniel were in the cab, with Daniel doing the driving.

Adam was out of the truck before Daniel had even come to a complete stop.

"Everybody alright?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"We're alright," Ford said.

"What happened?" he demanded, as Daniel came up beside him.

"Tore the suspension out of the Jeep," Evan said, not mincing any words.

"Where at?" Adam asked.

Evan told him, and I could see Adam's mind calculating how far that was.

Daniel reached out and gave me a hug. "Hey, you," he said. "You're wet." He ran his hand over the top of Ford's head.

"You're wet, too."

"You sure you're all alright?" Adam asked again, looking all three of us over.

"We're alright," Evan said. "Other than bein' wet, and hungry." He nodded in my direction. "Harlie needs to eat somethin' soon."

Adam looked at me more closely, his forehead furrowed in concern. "We thought of that. There's some peanut butter and crackers

in the truck. Hannah was fairly sure you didn't take any food with you."

He put his hand on Ford's shoulder. "Let's get you all home, and fed, and into some dry clothes."

"Sounds good," Ford said. "I could eat a horse."

"I don't know about a horse, but we'll get your bellies full," Adam said.

As we were walking the few feet towards the truck, I heard Evan speak quietly to Adam, "I'm sorry, Adam. It was a stupid mistake on my part."

"Let's not worry about it right now," Adam said. "We'll get Harlie home and then come back to get the Jeep."

I was ushered into the middle of the truck seat, with Adam driving, and Ford on my other side. Evan and Daniel rode in the back of the truck,

sitting on the tail gate.

Adam pointed out the peanut butter and crackers and told me to start eating. And in truth, it didn't take much telling on his part.

I was point blank starving. So I began dipping the crackers into the jar of peanut butter, eating, and then holding it out to offer

Ford some. He took some as well, and in between our munching, I observed Adam out of the corner of my eye. He didn't look

angry, or seem angry. But, I for certain did not want him to chew Evan out about the damage to the Jeep.

"Were you out in the storm the whole time?" Adam asked.

I was quick to answer. "No, Evan knew where there was this cave thing. A root cellar. We stayed in there during the

worst part."

"That's good," Adam said.

I wiped a bit of peanut butter off the corner of my mouth, and said, "Evan hasn't had anything to eat all day. He and Ford made sure

I had what there was to eat."

"That's good," Adam said, again.

"And then they took care of my hands," I went on.

"What happened to your hands?" Adam asked, reaching down to turn my hand over to look at the bandage.

"Splinters. And a couple of blisters. Which I got because I didn't listen to Evan. He told me to wear the gloves."

"Well, we'll have Hannah or Clare look at your hands when we get home," he said.

"And then when I was tired, Evan gave me a piggyback ride," I said.

Adam turned to look at me. "I'm glad the boys took such good care of you," he said. A comment that I couldn't really

decipher as to whether he was understanding what I was getting at. He looked amused, more than anything else.

"Ev feels bad about the Jeep," I said, after a few moments of silence.

"Everything will work out," Adam said.

I turned to give Ford a look, but he only shrugged, looking tired.

When we reached our own pasture, Daniel jumped down to open the gate, and Adam drove thru, parking the

truck. In no time at all, Hannah was coming down the front steps, and right over to us, as we began walking across

the yard.

"Are you all alright?" she asked, in her 'mom' voice.

"We're alright," Ford said. "Just wet and hungry."

"Well, I've got plenty for you to eat," she said, and patted Ford's shoulder, looking towards me then.

"Are you feeling shobbly?" she asked me, which is her own made-up word that means a cross between shaky and wobbly.

"Not really," I told her. "I'm okay."

"How about you, Evan?" she asked, running her hand over his arm.

"I'm fine, Hannah."

Adam asked Daniel to ride out and try to find Brian and Crane, whom I gathered from the conversation were out on horseback

looking for us, as well.

It didn't take long for the three of us to change to dry clothes. I put on a pair of fleece sweat pants, and a t shirt, but the boys both

reappeared in dry jeans. It felt so so so good to be dry again. I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling on dry socks, and just enjoying

the feeling.

When I was done changing, I hustled downstairs as quickly as I could. I'd thought of taking a really hot shower, but decided that

I wanted food more than I did a shower at that moment.

I followed the sound of voices to the kitchen, where both Evan and Ford were sitting at the table, eating 'Dagwood' types of

sandwiches with glasses of milk.

Evan was discussing with Adam what he thought about the damage to the Jeep. Adam stopped talking long enough to look

up at me.

"Sit down, sugar," he told me. "Get something to eat."

I slid into my seat, just in time to hear Captain Jack squawking from the living room. "Call the doctor! Call the doctor!"

"Silly bird's been at it all day long," Hannah said.

"Is he keeping Scooter from napping?" Ford asked.

"No, not anymore. I think Isaac's actually gotten used to him," Hannah said.

I took pieces of turkey, and the ham, too, and spread peanut butter on a piece of celery, and then took several cubes of cheese,

and cantaloupe.

"The boys say your hands are blistered," Hannah said.

When I nodded, munching on my celery, Hannah said, "I'll look at them after you eat."

"Okay," I said. It seemed a perfect opening to begin my defense of Evan again, but before I could, there was

the scraping of boots at the back door, and it opened.

"Hey," Brian said, coming inside. He reached out to cuff Ford's ear. "We'd about given you three up for lost. Everybody okay?"

"We're okay," Ford said.

I kept eating, looking up at Brian as he passed behind my chair. "A little hungry there, are you, peach?" he teased, looking at my loaded plate.

I nodded, and finished chewing. "Yep."

As Brian was filled in on the whereabouts of the Jeep, and what damage that Evan suspected, he said, "Well, we'll go haul it home."

"Yeah. I thought we'd head out after a coffee break," Adam told him.

"What in hell were you tryin' to do?" Brian asked Evan, and, although he didn't sound mad, or even irritated, but actually more amused,

I still felt as though I should speak up.

"He was taking me up there because I wanted to see the old homestead," I interjected into the conversation.

"Oh, yeah?" Brian asked, looking at me and then back to Evan again.

"He was trying to be nice," I said loyally.

"Damn stupid thing to do," Evan said.

"Well, it won't be the first or the last time that a McFadden did somethin' stupid," Brian said, and he grinned at Evan.

I felt a little better, then, and I think Evan did, too.

"As soon as you're back, we'll have supper," Hannah said. "I'll start frying the chicken. How long do you think you'll be?"

"At least a couple of hours," Adam told her.

"Well, we'll have a later than usual supper then," Hannah said.

"Where's Clare?" Brian asked.

"I sent her upstairs to lie down," Hannah said.

"Hmm," Brian said, and his forehead wrinkled a little.

As they started standing up, and scooting in their chairs to the table, Ford asked, "Do you want me to come and help?"

Adam told him no, to do the evening chores with Daniel and Crane.

"How about me?" I asked, jokingly. "Do you want me to come and help?"

"No, sugar. We'll try to muddle along without you," Adam said, teasing in return, and tugging on one of my curls.

"It'll be hard," I said. "You all know how much help I am."

Brian laughed, but Evan gave me a half-smile. "You are good help," he said. And to Adam and Brian he

offered, "She worked her butt off up there today. Stacked nearly all that wood by herself."

I smiled at Evan.

"Good to hear," Adam said. He leaned down to give Hannah a quick kiss. "We'll be back," he said, and he and Brian and Evan

went out, letting the screen door slam.

I finished the food on my plate, as Ford was going outside, and put my plate in the sink, asking Hannah what she

wanted me to do.

"Are you sure you feel alright?" she asked me. "I know you didn't want to say anything in front of the guys."

"I really am alright," I said. "The boys took good care of me."

Hannah smiled. "I'll bet they did. Well, make sure you stay hydrated, and eat plenty at suppertime."

"Don't worry about that," I said. "I'm already thinking about your fried chicken. Are you making mashed potatoes to

go with it?"

"From the sound of your voice, I'd say that you hope so, huh?" she asked.

"I wouldn't complain about it."

"Well, if you go start a load of laundry for me, and then peel the potatoes, then we'll have mashed potatoes," Hannah said.

I agreed, and went downstairs to start a load in the washing machine. I was pouring the Tide in when I heard

a scuffling, and a light cough behind me.

I turned so fast that I dripped the detergent on the concrete floor. I had to catch myself from screaming out loud from

being so startled.

Kenny was sitting in one of the old, broken recliners in the corner. And Guthrie was sitting there beside him, in another chair.

"'Lo, there, Harlie," Kenny said, with a cockeyed smile.

He sounded as though he'd been drinking. For a good part of the afternoon, too.

While Kenny was grinning at me like a fool, Guthrie's face was deadpan, not showing any expression really.

"Good grief," I said, tossing a dirty towel over the spilled detergent to wipe it up. "You just about gave me a heart attack!"

"Don't want that, huh, Guthrie?" Kenny said, and closed his eyes.

Guthrie didn't answer that. He just sat there, still and quiet, staring at me.

"I thought you went to Trent's to ride four-wheelers," I said. I felt weird. Uncomfortable. As though the axis was

off-balance. Something was wrong with Guthrie. For a moment, I was struck by sudden panic that Guthrie was

drunk, too.

"We did," Guthrie said. "And then we came home." His voice was flat.

"Oh." I took a few steps closer to see him better. The lighting in the basement isn't the best.

"I didn't see your truck parked outside," I said.

"I didn't know I had to report to you," Guthrie said, and I stared at him, first in surprise, and then in temper.

"What is wrong with you, Guthrie?!" I demanded.

"Talk quiet," Guthrie said. "I don't want Hannah comin' down here. It was hard enough gettin' Kenny down here without her

seein'."

"She won't come down. She's getting ready to cook chicken," I told him.

"Oh," Guthrie said, sounding relieved. "Where's everybody else at?"

"Gone to get the Jeep or outside doing chores."

Guthrie stood up then, and asked, just as if we were having an entirely normal sort of conversation, "What's wrong with the Jeep?"

"It broke down," I said shortly, not going into any details.

I looked at Kenny again, who, just in that few moments, had seemingly gone to sleep.

"He's three sheets to the wind," I said. "What's he doing down here, in the basement?"

"I thought he should stay here until he sobers up a little."

"Oh." I gave Guthrie a closer look. "Are you alright?"

"If you mean, am I drunk too, then the answer's no, I'm not."

"Alright. Fine," I said, and went back over to the washing machine. "You don't have to be so hateful, Guthrie."

I repoured the detergent, and put it in, and then began stuffing in pairs of various brother's jeans.

I heard Guthrie heave a heavy sigh, and then he came over to stand beside me.

"Let's not fight," he said, quietly..

"I'm not trying to fight," I felt obliged to point out. "I just asked if you were alright."

"I'm alright," he said.

"Well, great. Everything is just hunky-dory then, isn't it?" I snapped.

"Now, you're the one bein' hateful," Guthrie pointed out.

I shut the lid on the machine. "Well, this whole thing with Kenny is just weird!"

"Shhh," Guthrie shushed me, with a look towards the stairs.

"Why is he drinking so much?" I asked, lowering my voice again. "Is it because of his dad or what?"

"Yeah. It's because of his dad," Guthrie said. Then, in another about-face, he said, "I spose you think it's because

he's feelin' all guilty about something."

There was a challenge in Guthrie's tone, and on his face, too. I looked right back at him.

"Yes, that's exactly what I think," I said.

"That figures," he said, and for a long moment we glared at one another.

There was the sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs. "Harlie?" Hannah called down.

Guthrie gave me a panicked look.

"She's comin' down here," Guthrie hissed.

I went quickly to the foot up the stairs, looking upwards. Hannah paused at the top.

"Everything alright?" she asked me. "Is the washing machine acting up again?"

"No. It's fine," I said. "I'll be up in a minute."

"Okay," Hannah said, and her head disappeared back around the corner to the kitchen.

I looked over at Guthrie, and he gave me a long look. "Thanks," he said, with a sigh.

I came over to him and whispered, "What are you going to do? Keep Kenny down here all night?"

"I thought I'd get him upstairs later, maybe. Tell everybody tomorrow at breakfast that he just spent the night here."

"They'll ask why he didn't come down to supper," I told him.

"I'll think of something," he said.

"Okay." I went back to the bottom of the steps, and paused, looking back over at Kenny, and then at

Guthrie.

"Why don't you just tell them the truth?" I asked. "Tell them Kenny drank too much and he's sleeping it off here."

"Listen to you preach," Guthrie said.

I bristled at that. "I'm not. I just think that they'd understand. At least Brian would."

"Yeah," Guthrie said, sounding irritable. "And then right after that they'd call Kenny's folks. And then they'd start in on me about the drinkin', thinking that I'm

doin' it, too."

Part of me just wished I could go on upstairs, and leave Guthrie to his mess with Kenny. But, years of sticking together, and having each

other's backs, well, that sort of habit doesn't just get broken.

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

"Just don't say anything about him being down here. That's all."

"Fine," I said shortly.

I was midway up when he said, quietly, "Thanks."

I turned and leaned over the railing. "I owe you for last fall, when you helped me with my math, and didn't

tell anybody about the cheating."

Guthrie looked sort of sad for a moment. "I was cheating, too, Har. That was on both of us."

I shrugged.

"Well, anyway," he said, "Thanks."

"I can't promise I can keep everybody from coming down here. But I'll try.

Guthrie nodded at me, and I went on back upstairs.

7

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