The next two days passed, in relative calmness. At least nothing new on the Seth-fracas front. No sheriff's car pulled up in our driveway, intent

on arresting Evan. Kenny didn't come around, and I didn't know if Guthrie had talked to him or not. Guthrie, himself, was still somber,

and mostly silent.

On each of the early mornings of both of those two days, I was up much earlier than usual, and had gulped down oatmeal for breakfast,

drank my fill of coffee, usually in relative solitude, since most of the family wasn't up and stirring around yet.

After my breakfast and coffee, I would pull on my boots, and head out to saddle Petra, and then work for an hour or more running

those barrels, mostly before the sun had entirely made its appearance.

It was the second day when I was on my third run, that I looked over and saw Adam standing there, his arms crossed,

watching me.

I pulled Petra to a stop as I rounded the last barrel, and then loped over to where he stood.

"Good morning," I told him.

"Good morning," he said. He reached up to run his hand over Petra's side, as she sniffed his pockets for treats.

"What's this about?" he said, gesturing towards the barrels. "Two mornings in a row, now. Before the sun's hardly up."

"Just doing some practicing," I said.

"I see that," he said. "How come?"

"Oh, it's Evan-" I began, and then stopped. "I'm just trying to prove something to Evan, I guess."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking questioning.

"Yeah."

"It looks like you're doing alright," he said, in quiet praise.

"I'm just trying to improve my time, without knocking over any barrels."

"Uh huh," he said, looking up at me. "Are you eating before you come out here?"

"Yes." I smiled at him a little. "A delicious, nutritious bowl of oatmeal," I said lightly.

"Okay. Are you finished for today?"

"Almost. I thought I'd take another couple of turns around."

Adam reached down and undid the watch on his wrist, and held it in his hand. "Okay. Let's see how you can do," he said.

"Okay. But don't be shocked when it's a horrible time," I told him, and loped Petra over to begin my pattern.

When I finished, without knocking over any barrels that time, I cantered over to him.

"Twenty-one," he said.

"That's bad," I said.

"I don't think it's so terrible," he defended. "You need to remember that Petra hasn't done it in a long while."

"Yeah, I guess," I conceded, leaning down to pet Petra's neck.

"Come on inside," he said then.

I swung my leg over and jumped down off of Petra, and walked beside Adam as we headed thru the pasture and to the barn.

"Happy birthday," I told him, and he smiled at me.

"Thank you."

"Crane's going to make you some BBQ ribs, for your birthday," I said.

"I'm looking forward to that," he said.

"So," I said, looking up at him, "Molasses cookies?"

"Whatever you want to bake will be good, sugar."

"It'll be time for roundup soon," I said.

"Yep. It will."

"Can I stay the whole time this year?" I asked him.

Usually, I get to go up two or so days out of the five or whatever that the roundup lasts. Then one of the boys rides me back down,

and I stay at the house, helping Hannah, and whatever brother is left at home to tend to chores.

"You know you always come up," he said.

"I know. But the whole time?" I asked.

"We'll see," he said, and I had to be content with that for the time being.

Warrior came running to greet us, followed by Gus, at a much more sedate pace.

"He's back to his old self," Adam said, as Warrior jumped up on him.

Adam unhooked the gate and I led Petra thru, and then waited as he closed and secured it again.

I began to unsaddle Petra, and when I'd loosened the cinch, Adam pulled the saddle off and went to put it up in the

tack shed.

"Thanks," I told him.

"You're welcome."

I rubbed Petra down, and, since he was still standing there, leaning against the fence, watching me, I said,

"Do you think Evan will get into trouble?"

There was the slightest hesitation, and Adam said, "I don't know," and he sounded sort of grim.

"Seth's eighteen now," I volunteered. "So it's not as though he's a minor."

"A stroke in our favor," he said.

As we stood there, a loud, rumbling of an engine came down the road, and then turned at the end of our driveway. A large, semi truck,

the kind that carries cattle, came up the long drive, towards the barn.

"He's early," Adam said, and as I saw that it was, indeed, a cattle truck, I felt my stomach knot a little. I'd felt badly when some of

our cows had to be sold to pay the lawyer bills, when Karissa had filed the custody suit.

"Do we have to sell more cows?" I asked, looking up at Adam in concern.

"No. They're bringing us a bull."

Usually, we AI our cattle. At least the last few years we have. I hadn't known my brothers were talking about buying a bull.

"We're buying him?" I asked.

"No. Just borrowing him for a bit," Adam said. "After you get your horse cooled down, you ought to go in and eat some eggs."

"Okay," I said, and watched as Adam went forward, to greet the driver of the large truck.

He and the driver were having a conversation, and other brothers began to come out of the house. Crane, pulling on his hat, and

then Daniel. And Brian, rubbing his hand over his face as if he was still tired.

I cooled Petra down after her workout, and then turned her back out into the pasture.

When I went into the house, and then into the kitchen, Evan was sitting at the kitchen table, across from Clare, and Guthrie. Hannah

was making a fresh pot of coffee. There was no sign of Ford.

"What's your time?" Evan asked me, and then took a drink of his juice.

"What?" I asked, stopping to look at him.

"Your time. What was it?"

"Twenty-one," I said.

"Better. But still pitiful," he said, shaking his head, as if it were a real tragedy.

When I stood there, my hands on my hips, giving him a look, he grinned at me. That's when I realized that

I'd been had. He'd provoked me deliberately. Goaded me with insults so that I would want to prove to him I could get

faster on the barrels.

I went to pull down a glass, and then poured myself some milk, from the jug on the table.

I took a long drink, and then looked at him over the top of the glass. "You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" I said.

"Got you out there, practicing, didn't it?" he said.

"I was gonna do some baking today," I said, haughtily. "Guess whose favorite cookies I will not be making now."

He just grinned at me again.

7

I spent the majority of the morning baking. Molasses cookies for Adam's birthday, while Hannah worked on his birthday

cake. Then, since I hadn't done it for awhile, I made Crane's favorite, chocolate chip.

After that, Hannah put whoever was in her path, to cleaning, and tidying, and just in general getting the house

looking good enough for company. It wasn't as though we were having a big gathering. Just all of us, and Marie. And Nancy

and Cindy. And Kristin was coming, too. A fact which made me very happy.

When I thought about Doc G, and how he would have come to join us as well, I felt my chest tighten up. I wondered how

long it would be before the thought of him didn't cause an immediate ache.

Later, after the cookies were all baked, and cooling, and the birthday cake had been frosted, and covered to prevent anybody

from licking the frosting, I went outside with Hannah and Clare and we all looked over the fence at the bull. He'd been put

into the pasture with the cows and seemed to making himself right at home.

"He's huge," Clare said, sounding awed.

"Fairly average size for a bull," Brian told her.

From listening to the conversation, I understood that we were 'renting' or borrowing the bull from one of the other ranchers in the

area, Stu Peterson. The deal was, instead of any money changing hands for us to borrow the bull, the Peterson's would get

five of the calves when they were born in the spring.

At lunch, Ford showed everybody one of the flyers that the print shop had put out. It was about the annual Fourth of July

celebration in Murphys, and a list of all the activities that were going to be going on.

Guthrie, who seemed a lot happier since Kristin was coming over, gave me a poke. "Remember when we used to do

the turtle race, Har?"

"Yeah. I remember. My turtles never used to win."

"In a couple of years, Scooter will be able to do the turtle race," Guthrie said.

I saw that there was going to be a street dance held, which is something usually done every year.

I rubbed the bear ring on my pinky finger, wishing that I could go and have at least one dance with Eddie. More than likely, he

would have a date, though, I thought darkly. Probably with a really tall, really blonde girl.

I knew I wouldn't even be able to go at all, unless one or more of my brothers were around somewhere. Thanks to Seth

frightening everybody. Well, he'd scared me too, truthfully. But that didn't mean I didn't want to go.

Guthrie went to get Kristin shortly after that, and Nancy arrived, carrying a covered dish. I went out to say hello to her,

and she greeted me with her usual brightness. "Hey there. I need some muscles. Who's available?"

I looked around and then said, "Ford's still inside, I know."

"He'll do fine. Can you get him?"

I went up the front steps to call inside to Ford, and when he came out, Nancy told him she had two

watermelons in her car, and would he please go and carry them inside?

I held the door for her and then for Ford, as he carried a watermelon in each arm.

So then began the time of setting up long tables in the front yard. One to put all the food on, and one for everybody to

sit at. Folding chairs to be carried. The watermelons were put in coolers on ice. There were cold cans of beer on ice, too, and

lemonade in pitchers.

When the McFaddens have a gathering, they do it up right. Even, if as in this case, it's to celebrate a birthday for somebody

who'd rather not have any fuss made.

7

At the last minute, Hannah told me I could call Steven, and invite him over to eat, if I wanted to. So, I did that, and he arrived

just as everybody was starting to load up their plates with food.

"Better jump in there, Steven," Daniel told him, as Steven stood off to the side a little. "Around here you have to fend for

yourself."

It was a successful evening. Full of fun, and enjoyment. Crane manned the big stone bbq, as was usual, and Cindy sat

beside him, as he watched over the meat. Some of us played a couple of games of croquet, and when they started up another game,

I went to sit beside Crane and Cindy, in the lawn chairs beside the BBQ, where Crane was finishing up the last of the meat.

"Hello, Harlie," Cindy greeted me, with a smile.

"Hi," I said. I still felt sort of awkward about calling her Cindy, even though she'd told me to. I still thought of her as 'Miss Noel'.

"How's your summer going?" she asked me.

"Alright, I guess," I said.

"Oh, I wasn't even thinking about what all is going on around here," she said. "It probably hasn't been that great of a summer

so far, has it?" Cindy said.

"That's alright. It's definitely had its moments."

Crane got up to go open the black door of the bbq, and poke the meat inside, and the smell of smoke filtered thru the air around us.

"Have you thought about what classes you might take when school starts again?" she asked me.

"You mean at school?" I asked. "Or college classes?"

"Either one," she said, with a smile.

"Since I've done all my English classes that are required for high school, then I get to have electives to replace those."

"That's good," she said, looking interested. "What electives do they offer?"

"Art, Band, stuff like that," I said.

"Not a very wide variety, huh?"

"No. Not really. They do have a Journalism class. They're the class that puts out the school newspaper."

Immediately she leaned forward and said, with enthusiasm, "You should do that, Harlie. You're such a gifted writer. It

sounds like it's something you'd enjoy."

I couldn't help the feeling of pleasure that her praise gave me. She was a teacher, after all, and if she thought I could write well,

then it must be so.

"Thanks," I told her. "And, yeah, I've been thinking it is something I might do."

"What else?" she asked.

"Well, I still have to have a science class. I've done biology, so I guess chemistry is next. And then I have to take a math class. Trigonometry."

I guess my feelings about it must have shown a bit, because she said, "Not too excited about that Trig class, huh?"

"No," I admitted.

"You'll do fine," she said, in encouragement.

I gave Crane a look to see if he was listening to our conversation. He'd closed the door again on the BBQ and come back to sit

down. He rested one foot on the opposite knee.

"It sounds as though you'll have quite a bit of homework," Cindy said. "With the chemistry, and then the trig."

I nodded in agreement, and Crane said, "Harlie will do just fine. She's a good student."

I shot Crane a look of appreciation. "Thanks," I told him. "But I think you're a little optimistic sometimes."

"No such thing," he said. "I just know how much you can do when you put your mind to things."

I gave him a slow smile.

"So you're not planning on taking any college classes in the fall?" Cindy asked me then. "Would that be too much for you?"

"I don't know if I am yet," I said.

"There is a fantastic opportunity coming up," she said, and I could tell she was excited by the way her eyes sparkled. "I heard about

it, and I thought of you, right away."

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"The college I work for, they're offering a program starting in September, where they are going to accept a few high school students.

It would be like a work study program, and during one to two hours of the school day, you would go to a job dealing in the career

you're thinking of entering. You'd get credit from the high school as an elective, and then also get a college credit for it."

"Three full hours worth of credit?" Crane asked, and I could tell that he hadn't known anything about what Cindy was telling me about.

"I'm not certain about that," Cindy said. "But even if it's not, it's still a great opportunity."

"Yeah. It sounds like it," Crane agreed.

"It sounds awesome," I said, already thinking ahead, to if I might be able to do it.

"What's their selection process?" Crane asked.

"The student writes up a letter, about why they want to be considered. Then if they're one of the ones that's

chosen, the one policy they're strict about, is that a 3.5 grade point average has to be maintained in all classes. If it's not, then the

student would be dropped from the program," she explained.

After Cindy said that, I said, "Oh", and looked at Crane. He looked back at me, and then raised one eyebrow, just the

slightest bit. I couldn't really tell what he was thinking.

"It's something for you to think about," Cindy said.

"I will," I told her.

Kristin was spending the night, and Nancy stayed until late. She left after she and Evan stood outside by her car for

a long time in the dark.

Everybody had pitched in to help clean up all the food, and dishes, and fold the chairs back up.

Daniel had played his guitar and Ford played the piano, and we had all sat around and sang for awhile.

It was when I was heading up to bed, that I went to find Adam. He was in the kitchen, and was in the process of rinsing

out the coffee pot, and measuring out the water and coffee for the morning pot.

I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He said, "Hey, there sugar," to me, and when he'd set

the coffee pot down, he turned around to face me, leaning against the counter and hugging me back, his arms looped around my

waist.

"Did you like your party?" I asked him.

"It was real nice."

"I wanted to talk to you about your present. I didn't want to buy just anything, just so I'd have a present for you. I sort

of wanted to get you something special," I said.

"That's alright. I don't need anything," he said.

"You always say that."

"Well, it's the truth," he said.

"I'm going to think about it, and sometime when I see something that's just right, then I'll get it for you."

Adam smiled at me, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. "Okay."

"I love you," I said, looking into his tanned face.

"I love you," he said.

"I'd better get upstairs," I told him. "Kristin's probably gonna want to talk on and on about how wonderful Guthrie is, all night long."

"Oh, Lord," he said, and shook his head, in mock seriousness.

I squeezed him one time more, and he kissed the top of my head.

At the bottom of the back stairs, I turned back when he spoke up. "Are you gonna be out there at the crack of dawn, running your

barrels?"

"I think so," I said.

"Alright. I'll see you out there."

"Really?" I asked.

"You need a time keeper, don't you?" he asked.

I smiled at him, thinking how terrific he really is. "That would be great."

7