The time to get up and get moving came early the next morning. I was prodded by Daniel, telling me to get up, and I meant to, I really did.
But I just couldn't help myself, I snuggled down in my sleeping bag, cozy, Just in the brief moments that I turned my face out, my nose
got cold. I was nearly drifting back into sleep when I had a boot-bump to my feet.
"Come on, peach, rise and shine," Brian told me.
I sighed, but I sat up, my arms out of the sleeping bag. I sat there, watching for a couple of minutes, as Brian set the coffee pot on the
fire, and he poked it, stirring up the flames, sitting on a log near to the fire.
"What's for breakfast?" I asked him.
"Bacon and biscuits," he said. "Get your tail feathers movin'."
I tugged at the zipper on the sleeping bag, and when it caught and wouldn't move, I got to my feet,
trying to unzip the sleeping bag. I was tugging at it, with no success, and I felt the sudden urge to be silly.
"Look, Bri," I told him, and when he looked my way, I hopped up and down a couple of times, holding the sleeping bag up
around my waist. "I'm gonna have to ride herd like this today. I'll have to ride side-saddle, like in the olden days."
Brian looked amused, but turned back to forking bacon strips onto the cast iron griddle. "Quit fooling around, and get out of
that thing."
"I'm stuck, I think," I said. "One of the boys left it out in the rain or something, and the zipper's all rusty." I tugged on the zipper again.
Brian put down his fork and stood up, taking the few steps over to me. He took over, pulling at the zipper.
I giggled a little at the look on his face.
"I don't have time for this nonsense," he said. "Lay down again, and wiggle out of it."
So I did, laying on the ground, and scooching my butt around, while Brian tugged from the foot end.
"There you go," he said. "Problem solved."
"Thanks," I said, grinning up at him.
"Enough fooling around," he said, and he didn't look amused any more.
"I'm going," I said, in protest, and rolled up the sleeping bag. I went to check on Charlie. He was busy eating his
breakfast from his feed bag.
There were brothers everywhere, it seemed. By the horses, saddling them, out looking over the cattle, who were herded all
together around the camp, or coming up from the creek with filled buckets to water the horses with.
I passed by Ford and Daniel, carrying a bucket each, and headed down the slope to the creek.
"Morning, Har," Ford said.
"Morning," I echoed.
"Where are you goin'?" Daniel asked, stopping in his walking to look at me.
"Down to the creek a minute."
"What for?"
"Just for a minute," I said, rolling my eyes. "For gosh sakes, Daniel."
"Oh," he said, in understanding, and grinned at me. "Okay, then."
I walked on, tossing back a comment of, "I'm so glad it meets with your approval!"
Once near the creek, I found the covering of a shrub, and went pee. I walked a little further down, for a few minutes, and
pulled my jacket tighter around my body. It was chilly in the morning air, this high up.
I heard whistling, and my name being yelled. Breakfast time.
I headed back up, glad for the slope, because it got my blood stirring, and got me warmed up a little bit.
I found out that I was still saddle sore from the day before, when I found a spot to sit down and take the plate
of food that Brian offered me.
I tried not to wince as I sat down, but I couldn't help it. And unfortunately, it didn't go unnoticed.
"Maybe you ought to eat standin' up," Guthrie said, giving me a wide grin.
I thought about rudely telling him to shut up or something, but it was as though he was the old Guthrie then, and
our separation about Kenny wasn't on the radar. So I settled for giving him a haughty look, and responding with, "You worry
about your own self."
"I'm fine," Guthrie said, and added teasingly, "I'm not a tenderfoot, like some around here."
"Harlie's no tenderfoot," Adam said, reaching out to pour more coffee into his cup. "She pulled her weight, the same as
everybody else."
Another bit of praise. It started my day off right.
I gave Adam a grateful smile. He smiled back.
7
A couple hours into the morning, the dust began flying. I stopped Charlie, in order to tie my hair up with a rubber band, into a messy
bun. I clamped my hat down tightly on my head, pulling my jacket up to try to keep some of the dust away from my eyes.
I was gathering up several calves from a thicket of bushes, when Adam rode up beside me.
"Leave those be," he told me.
I wondered if he thought I'd done something wrong. I pulled Charlie to a halt, pushing my hat back a little.
"How come?" I asked.
"I want you to gather up your bag, and head on back with Daniel. I'm wanting to make sure everything's alright at home."
"Okay," I said in agreement.
"We're gonna be another two days up here," Adam was saying. "Help out as much as you can at home, alright?"
"I will."
"I know you will," he said, and reached out to rub a gloved hand over my shoulder.
So, a short time later, I was headed down with Daniel, It didn't seem to take so long to get back home as he had getting up
to our camp site.
"Are you staying at home, or going back?" I asked Daniel.
"I'm gonna grab some more food, and if everything's okay with Evan, then I'll go back."
When we got home, I was glad to get down off of Charlie. Daniel tied his horse, going into the house, and I began to unsaddle Charlie, putting
away the tack, and rubbing him down. When Evan showed up a few minutes later, coming from the pasture behind the house, I told him
where Daniel had gone, and he went towards the house, too.
I was done with Charlie, and turned him out, going in the back door. Both Daniel and Evan were there, as was Hannah.
By the time I'd gotten there, it had already been decided that everything was manageable at home, so Daniel prepared to
gather up some food to head back.
"I'm going along," Hannah said. "I'll go get my boots on."
When she came back down, Clare was with her, while Hannah carried Isaac. He immediately began to smile at Daniel and I, and
Daniel took him to hold for a few minutes.
"It's going alright?" Clare was asking.
"No problems so far," Daniel told her. "You ready then, Hannah? We need to start up."
"I'm ready," Hannah said, picking up a canvas bag sitting on the counter. "I packed some things already."
Hannah took Isaac from Daniel, muzzling him and making him smile again.
"You don't mind watching him?" she asked Clare. "You're sure?"
"I'm positive," Clare said. "We'll have a great time."
On their way out, Hannah turned to me. "I'll bet you're ready for a bubble bath," she told me.
"Yeah. Maybe I will, tonight," I said.
When a horse had been saddled for Hannah, and she and Daniel had ridden out of sight, Clare took Isaac back into the house,
and I stood on the porch steps with Evan for a few moments.
"What is there to do?" I asked him.
"I'm working on the fence out back," he said. "With all the cattle coming down, we need more space."
"Okay. I'll get a sandwich and then come out to help you," I told him.
So, that's how I spent the next couple of hours. After that, Evan fed range cubes, and I fed the pigs and goats.
When it was past supper time, I could tell he was tired, and I was, too. I was thinking longingly of that bubble bath
upstairs.
"Let's call it good for today," Evan said, meeting me at the barn as I returned the buckets that I'd used for feeding.
"I'm not gonna argue with that," I said, tiredly, putting the buckets away.
Evan was waiting at the barn door for me, and we went into the kitchen thru the back door. Clare had baked
a cake, and it was sitting on the table, already frosted.
Evan ran a finger around the side of the cake, and then licked the frosting off.
"Are you taking a shower?" I asked him.
"I'm gonna eat first," he said. "You go on if you want. I can wait."
"Okay," I said, and went up the back stairs to Hannah and Adam's bedroom, starting hot water running in the bathtub. I added bubble bath
from Hannah's supply, and went to my bedroom, gathering up clean clothes, a pair of shorts and t shirt.
I sank into the warm bubbles, breathing in the lavender scent. I scrubbed, and then soaked for a while, until the water started
cooling off. I didn't want to run any more hot water, with Evan wanting to take a hot shower, too.
There was a light tap on the bedroom door, and then Clare stepped in. "Harlie? Are you still in the bathtub?"
"Yeah," I called back.
Clare came on in, to the bathroom door. "Steven's here to see you," she said.
I was a little surprised, but I felt glad, too. Maybe whatever had been bothering Steven was past, now. Maybe Evan had
been wrong about Steven being bothered by my dance with Eddie.
"I'll be right down," I told Clare, and she nodded and went out.
I got out and dried off, pulling on my clean clothes. I swept up my wet, shampooed hair, into a messy bun, and went out
of the bathroom. I met Evan coming up the stairs.
"There's still hot water for you," I told him.
"Thanks," he said, and added, in a low tone, "Steve's downstairs."
"I know," I said, and went on down.
Steven was standing in the living room, his hands in his pockets.
"Hey," he greeted me, with a smile.
"Hi," I answered.
We had casual conversation for about five minutes. About this and that. Nothing major.
"You can sit down," I told him, and we both sat on the couch. "Do you want something to drink?"
"No, thanks. I just thought we might go do something."
"Oh." I was really, really tired. Still, I thought maybe if I went out with him for awhile, he might share with me what
had been bothering him on the Fourth. I didn't want to lose Steven's friendship.
So I told him to wait a minute, and I went upstairs. Before I got to Evan's bedroom, I heard the shower running
and I tapped on the bathroom door.
"What?!" he yelled.
"Can I go out for awhile?" I called in.
There was some noises from inside the bathroom, and then Evan opened the bathroom door, still dressed in his dirty jeans and t shirt.
"Go out where?" he asked me.
"With Steven someplace," I said. "He asked me to."
Evan looked as though he was debating something in his mind.
"Why don't you just stay around home?" he suggested.
"Because he wants to go out."
"I don't think you oughta go out with him, if he's bein' a sorehead," Evan said.
"He doesn't act like he's upset anymore," I explained.
"Well," Evan hesitated. "I still think you ought to stay put. He can talk to you just as well right here."
I studied him, considering arguing. But I was tired from all the physical activity of the last two days, and so I didn't argue.
I told him okay, and went back down the stairs, as he reclosed the bathroom door.
I told Steven that I was really tired, just getting back from the roundup, and that he was welcome to stay around and watch a movie with me.
He agreed, and I went to make some popcorn, and when I came back in, we were sitting and talking. I was wondering if I should bring
up his abrupt departure on the Fourth of July, and ask him if he'd been upset about something.
While I was debating, Steven, who was already sitting close to me on the couch, scooted over a couple more inches, until his
leg was smack dab against mine. I was just looking to my left, wondering what he was doing, when he grabbed me, and
began kissing me. For a long few moments, I was so surprised that I just sat there, then I gave him a push against his chest.
"What are you doing?" I protested.
He paused, but he didn't move his arms. "The last time I checked, this was kissing," he said, and moved towards me again.
"I don't want to kiss you," I said, and pushed again.
"Why not?" he asked, his breath a little ragged.
I moved out of his reach. "We're friends, Steven," I pointed out.
"Friends can kiss," he said.
"Not us," I insisted.
With that last comment, his eyes seemed to darken. "Not us, huh?" he demanded.
"No."
"Because I'm not Eddie?" he said, his voice rough.
"Because we're just friends." I tried to make my voice hard, to show him I meant business. It was difficult, though. I felt sort of bad
for him, at the same time.
"Maybe I wanna be more than friends," he said.
I stared at him for a long moment, and then I stood up. "Evan was right," I said, low, almost to myself.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," I told him. I sighed, and surveyed him. I was full of intent that this was going to be resolved, and in a good
way. I would just talk to him, and give him the respect of listening to him-
"I like hanging around with you, Steven," I began.
"I like being with you, too," he said, and stood up, coming the few steps to stand in front of me.
"We talked about this," I reminded him. "We agreed that it wasn't anything but friendship-"
"Yeah. Well, I've changed my mind," Steven said.
I was trying to think of what to say next when his voice softened. "Please, Harlie. I know I'm not that Eddie guy, but if you give
me a chance, I know you won't be sorry."
"No, Steven," I said. I said it softly, because I felt so bad for him. Maybe some of this was my fault. Maybe I'd led him to believe
that I thought of us as more than friends, too?
Later, when I was rethinking all of it, I thought that my soft tone might have encouraged him, that he could change my mind.
Because right after I said that last soft 'No', Steven put his hands on my arms, pulling me closer. He began kissing me again, until I
turned my face, pushing at him. I wasn't feeling kindly any longer. I was mad.
"Stop!" I ordered, and I raised my voice.
But he didn't stop. He squeezed me tighter, until I could hardly get my breath. If I'd had my boots on, I would have given him a
hard kick to his shins. But, barefooted, that wasn't an option.
"Steven!" I said, and in our scuffling, me to get loose, and him to hang on, we tumbled to the side, and onto the couch. I was under him,
his weight pressing on me, and that's when I began slapping him, wherever I could reach. His face, his head, wherever. And I
yelled. I hollered loud, "Get off of me!"
That might have scared some boys. A girl hollering that way. Especially when there was a brother in the house.
But Steven didn't seem to be paying attention.
I punched him, hard, right in the eye, and he raised up a bit.
And then, I could hear Clare, somewhere behind us, and she was yelling, too.
"Steven! Get off!" She was behind Steven, pulling at him.
I think Steven was on his way then, to standing up, but before he could, Evan was behind him, shoving Clare out of the way,
and grabbing Steven. Evan's shirt was flapping open, unbuttoned, and his hair was dripping.
After that, things happened even faster it seemed. I do know that Evan jerked Steven up by the collar, and over by the front door,
against the wall.
Evan kept pushing Steven harder against the wall, over and over.
"When a girl says no, it means no, you little jackass," Evan said, in a tone that though low, was deadly.
"Evan, that's enough," Clare was saying, standing aside of Evan.
I began to be afraid for Steven, not so much that I cared right then if he got shoved around, but because if Evan didn't get hold of his
temper, it might come back to haunt him.
I got up and went to tug on Evan's arm. "Ev, please!" I said.
Evan gave Steven another shake, and then loosened his grip, just a bit. He opened the front door with one hand, and
held onto Steven with the other. Once on the porch, he said, "You get out of here. And you don't come back. You
don't touch Harlie. You don't talk to her. Don't you even look at her." He shook Steven once more, hard, and then
gave him a push.
Steven cast a look my direction, from where I stood at the screen door, and then he walked really quickly to his
truck, getting in and driving down our long driveway.
After that, it was like slow motion for a few moments. Clare put her arm around my shoulders, and gave me
a reassuring squeeze. "Come on inside," she said to me.
I went, looking back as Clare said, "Come on, Evan. You, too."
"In a minute," Evan said, tersely, still standing there watching Steven's truck start down the road.
Inside, Clare ushered me over to the couch, and then sat down beside me. "Are you hurt?" she asked.
"No," I said, and I knew that I wasn't hurt. I was shaky, though, and stunned. I noticed, in a vague sort of way, how
popcorn had gotten spilled during our tussle.
Evan came in, slamming the door. He looked angrier than I could remember seeing him be for a long time.
"Little prick," he said, in disgust.
His gaze fell to me. "You alright?" he asked me then.
I nodded, and he walked across the room, muttering something under his breath.
I looked at Clare. She gave me a sympathetic look. "What happened?" she asked me.
"He said he was gonna watch a movie-and then he started getting rough-" I said.
"Has he ever behaved that way with you before?" Clare asked then.
"No."
Evan was standing there, listening, looking serious.
"You were right," I said then, looking at him.
Clare, not knowing what I was speaking about, looked from Evan to me.
Evan was quiet, and somber. He began buttoning up his shirt.
"I'll make some tea," Clare said, and patted my knee, getting up. "Tea always helps."
She went off to the kitchen, and I looked at Evan again.
"I'm gonna call his parents," Evan said.
"Don't do that, Ev, please," I pleaded, folding my hands together so they wouldn't be so shaky.
"I don't know why I shouldn't," he said. "He needs to be held accountable."
"I know," I admitted. "But, do you have to? It might make things worse-"
"Worse than this?!" he said, raising his voice a little.
I subsided, looking at him. I picked up a blanket folded on the end of the
couch, and pulled it over myself.
Evan gave a sigh, and came over to sit down beside me on the couch.
"You're sure you're okay?" he asked again.
"I'm okay."
"If you find even one bruise, I want to know about it. Got it?"
I nodded at him, and then, in uncharacteristic display, he put his arm around my shoulders, and hugged me. He didn't say anything
and we sat there in the quiet, the only sound the ticking of the wall clock.
"You were right about Steven," I said again. "He said he wasn't happy just being friends with me."
Evan gave me another one-armed hug.
"This is one time that I wish I hadn't been right," he said.
7