Immediately, I felt my whole body tense up. I put my fork down, and pushed my plate away a bit. I took the coffee cup and
wrapped my hands around it, feeling the warmth. It was more really so that I'd have something to do with my hands.
Guthrie leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. It seemed that it was almost a defensive thing on his part. As if to
say, 'whatever you have to say, bring it on'.
Adam, I saw, had leaned back, too, and crossed his own arms, his expression solemn.
Crane began talking, then.
"The reason that I didn't say anything last night to you, Harlie, was because Kenny needed to talk to his parents
about some things. It wouldn't have been right to say anything until he'd done that."
I nodded in acknowledgement that I understood.
"Kenny needed to talk to somebody-he probably would have talked to you, if you'd been home, Guth," Crane said.
I knew that Crane was saying that to Guthrie, so as to ease the way to whatever was coming next.
"Kenny's gotten involved in some things that he shouldn't have," Crane said quietly. "He's been helping with running
the Mustangs, to sell them to the factories. Cutting the fences. Trespassing. All of it."
There was a silence then that was as sharp as if somebody had been yelling. I saw Kristin look swiftly to her right,
to Guthrie, and then, under the table, she put her hand on his knee, in silent support.
Neither Guthrie or I said anything. If I was to be entirely honest, I would have to say that I wasn't entirely
shocked by what Crane said. I'd believed all along that Kenny had been in our fields that night, the night that
Warrior was grazed with a bullet.
But that does not mean to say that I was without feelings. There was still a slight amount of surprise, because
there had always been the chance that I was wrong about Kenny. And now, there was also the other emotions.
Mostly, though, I was thinking about how Guthrie had to be feeling.
"He's talked to his parents, and he'll be talking to the sheriff this morning, and telling them what he knows.
Names, and dates, and things like that," Crane said.
"Why would he do that?" I asked. "Get involved in something like that?"
Crane looked hesitant to answer, and Adam said, "Could be lots of reasons."
"He says for money," Crane said, deciding, I guessed, that we should have a straight answer.
I looked across Kristin to Guthrie. He was still sitting the same way, his arms crossed. He hadn't spoken a word,
and his face looked as hard as granite.
"He's owned up to it now," Adam said. "And he'll be able to help the case. By giving names."
"What will happen to him?" I asked, wondering if Kenny would have to go to jail.
"I don't know," Crane admitted. "Hopefully, they'll take into account that he's come forward on his own."
There was silence again. I think they were all waiting for Guthrie to speak. To say something. Anything at all. But,
he didn't.
"Kenny's feeling real bad about it all," Crane said, quietly, sounding sad. "He feels like he let his folks down."
"Well, he did," Brian said shortly.
Then silence.
"You kids have any other questions? I can try to answer, if you do," Crane said.
I shook my head. "No."
"Guthrie?" Crane prompted.
"Nope," Guthrie said, sounding as though he might choke. Then, abruptly, he stood up. "Can I be excused?"
"You can," Adam said, then added, "Talkin' things thru might help, Guth."
Guthrie shook his head in refusal. "Excuse me," he said, and left, out the back door, the screen shutting
with a loud flap.
When Guthrie had gone, the silence grew thicker at the table.
Kristin looked shell-shocked, and I knew she was worried about Guthrie. Hannah, too, looked
emotional. As if she could cry. I knew she wouldn't. Not now, in front of everybody. But she looked as if
she could.
She reached over and took one of my hands, squeezing it.
"Okay, sweetie?" she asked me.
"I guess."
Ford stood up, pushing in his chair to the table. "I'll go try talkin' to Guthrie," he said.
"Ford?" Adam said, and Ford turned, pausing at the back door.
For a moment, I thought that maybe Adam was going to try to keep Ford from talking to Guthrie. But then,
Adam only shook his head. "Nothin'. Go on. Good luck."
Ford nodded, and went out.
"Things to be done," Evan said, quietly, and got up, taking his plate to the sink. "Comin', Daniel?"
"Coming," Daniel said, and went to do the same with his plate. On his way back around, as they
headed towards the living room, Daniel came behind my chair, touching my hair with his hand as
he passed by.
"What should we do?" Kristin asked, into the silence. She sounded almost frightened.
"About Guthrie, you mean?" Adam asked her.
At Kristin's nod, Adam said, "We'll see how Ford does, talkin' to him." He gave Kristin a half-smile, which
I knew was an effort for him, right then. "Try not to worry," he added.
"Yes," Kristin said, and I could tell that she wanted to believe Adam. "Haven't they been best friends, though,
for a really long time?"
Quiet.
And then Crane said, with a glance at Adam and Brian, "Since first grade, right?"
"Since first grade," Adam said, sounding regretful.
After another few moments, Adam told Kristin to go try calling her mom, in order to check in with her,
and Kristin got up to go do that.
"I've got to be getting started for the hospital," Clare said, and got up, pushing her chair up. Brian stood up, too,
saying, "What time will you be home?"
"The shift is over at three. It's just a short one," Clare said. "See you later," she said, in a general way.
"I'll go out with you," Brian said, and they left the kitchen.
The sound of Isaac's wailing came from upstairs, and Hannah said, "His teeth are really hurting him." And then,
she was gone, too, up the back stairs.
Left alone at the table, with Adam at one end, and Crane across from me, I just sat. I had my hands in my lap,
picking at a hangnail on my thumb.
There didn't really seem to be anything to say. I got up, and went to check the dishwashing chart. I was on,
with Hannah. I began to clear the table, stacking the plates. When I worked my way around the other side of the
table, Crane reached out to put a hand on my waist.
"You feel like talking?" he asked me.
"There's nothing to say," I said. And then I met his eyes. "Is there?"
Crane looked sad. Regretful. I shrugged, and went over to start running hot water in the sink.
"I'm going to start making out some checks," Crane said, to Adam.
"Okay."
I heard Crane's boots scraping on the wooden floor, as he got up, and walked out thru to the living room.
Now it was Adam and I. I squeezed dish soap into the hot water, and began washing juice glasses and cups.
Adam went to the coffee pot to refill his cup, and then he opened the towel drawer and took out a dishtowel. And, then, wordlessly,
he began drying the dishes as I put them in the dish drainer.
I was done with the cups and glasses, and had begun on the silverware, when the silence was broken by my
question.
"Does that mean that Kenny was part of all of it? Even the rough stuff?" I asked Adam.
"I don't know, Harlie."
"Like shooting our cows?" I asked.
"He denies that, Crane says. Though he says he knows who it was."
"But he shot my dog," I said, with simmering anger.
"It's possible."
I thought suddenly of Kenny's parents. His dad, so ill with cancer. And his mother. She was a true Southern belle, and
had never really seemed to adapt to ranch life. She had to be despondent right now, about her beloved Kenneth
traveling the path he'd chosen.
"I feel sorry for his mom," I said.
"I do, too."
I sighed, and scrubbed at a stubborn spot on one of the plates.
"What about all the blood you saw on the ground, the time we went camping?" I asked, pausing to look
up at him. "What do you think that was?"
"Can't say for sure, but likely it was from a horse."
"Why would they shoot any of them?" I asked him, puzzled. "Wouldn't they want them all, in order to make the
most money?"
"You'd think so, but they're likely more concerned with saving time at that point. Could have been a horse that was weak,
or it might be one that moved too slow to suit them."
"Like how?" I asked, not entirely certain that I wanted to hear the answer.
"Maybe it wouldn't load fast enough. Or, it could have been shot after it was in the trailer."
"Why shoot it after it was already loaded?" I asked. By now, I'd given up any pretense of
washing dishes, and was turned, facing him.
"If one gets to thrashing around in a trailer that's already filled, then that one could cause the others
to start panicking, too. They wouldn't want that."
"Oh," I said, feeling a little sick at the thought of what the Mustangs must have gone thru.
Kristin appeared at the door of the kitchen. "Adam," she said, sounding reluctant, "My mom wants to
talk to you."
"Okay," Adam said, laying down the dish towel, and heading towards the living room. He paused beside Kristin.
"Everything okay?" he asked her.
"She wants me to come home," Kristin said, looking upset.
"Oh. Well, I'll go talk to her," Adam said.
As he'd begun to walk on, Kristin said, "I already told her that I won't. There is no way."
It was like watching a show on television, only in slow motion.
Adam stopped, and came back the few steps that he'd walked. "Kristin," he said, very quietly. I knew what he
meant, even if Kristin didn't.
"Well, I won't," Kristin insisted. "She's crazy if she thinks I will. A major lunatic."
"You shouldn't talk about your mama like that," Adam said, all serious sounding.
I wondered what had taken over Kristin. Maybe an alien, or something. I understood that she didn't want
to go home when Freaky Frank was there. But to talk like she was? And to Adam? That was totally unlike
her!
"I know you have lots going on around here," Kristin said then, looking up at Adam, her cheeks bright with color. "And if you don't want me
to stay here, then I'll go. But, it won't be back there! I'll go somewhere else!"
"Nobody said any such thing, about not wanting you to stay," Adam told her. "Just settle down."
His tone was a seven and a half on a scale of ten. It had all the authority of him at his most firm. Adam hasn't
raised kids all these years and not perfected his tone.
And Kristin heard. And took note of it.
She swallowed a little, looking up at him, and seeming to realize things.
"Alright?" Adam asked her.
"Yes," Kristin said, with a nod.
"I'll go see what she has to say," he said, and went on.
I gave Kristin a raised eyebrow look.
"I've really done it now, haven't I?" she asked me, looking worried.
"I don't know about that, but you're starting to be more like me all the time," I said, in an attempt at
humor.
We exchanged smiles, and then I said, "Help me dry these dishes, will you?"
7
While Kristin and I were finishing up the dishes, Hannah came back downstairs, carrying a now-quiet Isaac.
"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said to me. "I left you with all this to clean up."
"It's alright," I told her. "Adam helped awhile, and then Kristin took over."
Hannah smiled at Kristin in appreciation. "Well, thank you, too, then."
Kristin just sort of nodded, and Hannah gave us both a discerning glance.
"What is it?" she asked, apparently able to sense something. Hannah, too, like Adam, has those 'parent' skills down to
a science. She's able to 'mom zone' in on something fairly quickly.
I looked to Kristin, but she looked so tongue-tied and uncomfortable that I spoke for her.
"Kris is worried that she made Adam mad," I offered.
"Oh," Hannah said, slowly, reaching down to lift Isaac's bouncy seat up onto the table, which was now cleared of
the breakfast dishes.
She laid the baby in it, and fastened the safety strap around him. Then she looked up at
both of us again, her forehead lined in concern.
"What happened?" she asked.
"My mom said she wants me to come home," Kristin said, in a low tone.
"And?" Hannah prompted.
"I told her that I wouldn't come. And then I told Adam-" Kristin hesitated. "That if I couldn't stay here,
that I would go somewhere else."
"Oh," Hannah said, again.
"It was like she was taken over by something," I said, nudging Kristin jokingly. "She was downright
sassy."
Kristin didn't look amused. She looked dejected. "Now Adam will think I'm not appreciating what you all are
doing, letting me stay here. He'll think that I'm rude-and-" Kristin's voice trailed off.
"I don't believe Adam will think that, not for a minute," Hannah said.
"Really?" Kristin asked, and I could tell that she wanted to believe Hannah.
"You can talk it out with him," Hannah said. "Is he still on the telephone with your mom?"
"I don't know."
"Well, we'll see what he says," Hannah said, in a soothing way.
We were finishing up, wiping the counters, and helping Hannah get out the ingredients for a dessert she
was going to make later, when Adam came to the door of the kitchen.
He came over, and leaned down over Isaac's bouncer, kissing him. "Hey, partner," he said to Isaac, softly.
"Is it his teeth botherin' him again?" he asked Hannah.
"Uh huh," Hannah said, with a nod.
"Does he have some of that-what is it-baby teething stuff?" Adam asked then.
"I put some on his gums, and he had some baby Tylenol, too."
"That's good," Adam said, letting the baby hang onto one of his fingers.
When Adam stood up straight again, he looked towards both Kristin and I.
"Kristin, let's talk about what your mom had to say," he said.
"Okay," Kristin said, but her voice came out more as a soft squeak.
"Harlie, we've got that opening in the fence to find, remember?" he said to me. Referring, I knew, to
my midnight jaunt into the pasture, and the fact that the burro had somehow found his way into our
field.
I nodded in response, and he said, "Go on out and saddle a horse for both of us, and I'll be there in a few minutes."
I shot Kristin a quick look. I knew she was nervous about talking to Adam, and that she'd much prefer that I
stay right there.
I was still worried about my own interaction with Adam from the evening before. So I had no wiggle room to
coax or argue with him, just in order to stay with Kristin. So, I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging half-smile,
and went out the back door, and across the barn yard.
7
I was saddling the horses as Brian came up.
"Goin' out to check the fence?" he asked me.
"Yeah," I said, eyeing him over Charlie's back, as I tightened the cinch. I wondered how much he knew about the burro.
"Holler when you and Adam head out. I'll go along," he said.
"Okay."
He went on around the other side of the barn, but he was back again before Adam had made his appearance from
the house. I had saddled Dandy and held his reins, while I sat on Charlie's back.
"Adam's still not out here, huh?" he asked.
"Not yet."
"I'll get Duke," Brian said then, and went to the tack shed, coming out with his saddle over one shoulder. I urged
Charlie forward, leading Dandy behind, and followed Brian as he opened the pasture gate. He refastened the gate,
and gave a piercing whistle. Duke came cantering up, and Brian busied himself saddling the horse.
Once that was done, he mounted, and we sat in quiet, waiting. Bumblebees were buzzing around, and the heat
was the sort that seeps all the way into your bones, warming every part of a person.
The horses nibbled at the grass as we waited.
"Adam helpin' Crane with the money stuff?" Brian asked.
"He was talking to Kristin when I came out."
Brian nodded. "Mmm."
"Her mom called," I shared.
"Did she?" Brian asked, pulling a can of Copenhagen from his shirt pocket, and taking out a pinch. He tucked it
into his cheek.
"Kristin said her mom wanted her to come home," I went on.
Brian tucked the can back into his pocket.
"She doesn't want to go." I studied Brian's profile. "Not while Frank's there."
"It's a rough deal for her, alright," he said.
"What do you think about Kenny?" I asked, abruptly switching the subject.
"I think he's a damn fool," Brian said, in his customary unvarnished response.
"Me, too," I agreed.
I thought for a couple of moments about how I wanted to phrase my next question. "Are you guys mad at Kenny?"
Brian looked to his right, and met my eyes. "If he had a part in our cattle bein' shot, and our fences cut, then, yeah,
I'd be real mad at him."
"He admitted to the fences, but not to anything to do with the cattle, Adam said," I said.
"Right."
"What if he hadn't done anything like that stuff, to hurt us? What if he'd just been helping to capture the Mustangs,
to sell them to the factories? Would you be mad at him then?" I asked.
Brian gave me a telling look. "I'm getting the feeling here that there's a right and wrong answer to this, according
to what you think, peach. Would that be right?"
I shrugged. "I guess," I admitted.
"So, if I don't think that capturing the horses is a wrong thing in itself, you're going to think I'm a callous
jerk, huh?" he asked.
I looked at Brian, bothered that he would say such a thing, or think it.
"I wouldn't think that about you, Bri," I told him. "I'd never think that."
"I hope you wouldn't," Brian said. He gave me a half-smile.
"I know better than that," I said stoutly.
Brian leaned back in his saddle a bit. "Well, then, in answer to your question, I'd still think Kenny was a damn fool
for gettin' involved in doing that to the Mustangs. I think they should be left alone, be respected, and allowed to live the way
they have for hundreds of years. But, I wouldn't think that Kenny should have to have jail time for it. He should be in trouble,
yeah, but not jail. Not at his age. But, bein' involved in cutting fences, and misusing guns, then I think he should have to
have some stiff consequences for that."
"What if it was Guthrie?" I asked.
"Guthrie wouldn't be involved in somethin' hurtful like that. He doesn't have the heart for it," Brian said,
with finality.
"I know he wouldn't," I hastened to explain. "That's not what I meant, exactly. I was just thinking-why some kids
get in trouble, like Kenny's done, and others don't. I mean, even if he needed money, I just can't understand why
he would do all this."
"I don't know, Harlie," Brian said slowly. "Only Kenny knows the real reasons why."
"I guess," I said.
We heard the back screen door flapping, and both looked to see Adam crossing the yard towards us.
"In answer to your last question, about if it was Guthrie, I reckon after I got over the shock, and the hurt of it, I'd
tear him limb from limb," Brian said.
7