The burro made his presence known throughout the rest of the afternoon. Even when we were inside for lunch,

everybody at the table could hear him, braying and braying.

"I thought Captain Jack was a contrary creature," Ford said, at one point. "This burro wins hands down over

the bird as a contrary sort."

"Maybe he's not trying to be contrary," I felt obligated to point out. "Maybe he's just lonely. Or something," I finished,

as I got various degrees of disapproving attention for my remark.

As if he could hear Ford speaking of him, Captain Jack gave a shriek from the living room. "Peel a banana! Call

the doctor!"

Ford grinned, and so did Evan, obviously thinking that Captain Jack was a real comedian. But nobody else

laughed, or even smiled.

"I'm not gonna be able to take listenin' to that burro's nonsense for long," Brian grumbled.

I stabbed a cherry tomato with my fork, and popped it into my mouth, wishing mightily that Clare was home.

She was always adept at dealing with Brian's grumbly moods, and could usually restore him into a better humor.

Kristin was quiet, and I wondered how her conversation with Adam had gone. And Guthrie was still as silent

as he'd been at breakfast, after hearing about Kenny. Add that to the irritation that Brian and Adam had about the

burro, and well, we were definitely not the most cheerful group at all.

7

After lunch I escaped outside, intent on trying to quiet the burro, if only so that Brian wouldn't

get more irritated.

I crawled over the fence, and stood, waiting. I wondered, since he'd come so close to us earlier, if he was

actually going to come up to me. Or let me come up to him. I decided I didn't have anything to lose at this point.

Before today, I'd been worried about scaring him off. But now that he had stationed himself by our corral

fence, I decided I might as well try.

The burro stood watching me. I took a couple steps closer. He stood his ground.

"Hey, fella," I said, talking in a quiet tone. "Are you gonna let me pet you today?"

Another couple steps. He moved to the left. I stopped.

"You might as well let me touch you," I told him. I stepped closer. By now, I was only a couple of feet from

him. I knew, right at that moment, that if I'd had an apple, or one of the horse treats, that the burro would likely not

hesitate at all. But, with no food or treats to offer, I still wasn't quite certain.

I took a final couple of steps, and then put my hand out, touching his nose. He tolerated it for a moment, and

then, apparently wising up to the fact that I had nothing for him, except for a friendly hand, he backed up,

still watching me.

Well, at least I'd had some success with getting closer. Kristin came walking across the yard, and I crawled

back thru the fence.

"He's getting a lot friendlier, huh?" she asked, reaching the corral.

"Yeah. He still wants his apple, though." I searched her face. "What did Adam say?"

"I get to stay. For tonight, anyway."

"Just tonight?" I asked, seeing the way her expression was all crushed.

"Well, he said since my mom wants me to come home, that I need to listen." Kristin sounded

a bit disenchanted, and I knew she was trying to figure out Adam's line of reasoning.

"I think he did talk to her about Frank, though," Kristin went on. "I don't know what good that will do. She

already knows how I feel, anyway."

"So then tomorrow you go back to your house?" I asked.

"Yeah. I guess so." Kristin gave a heavy sigh. "Sorry to be such a Debbie-Downer," she said. "None of this

is your problem."

"Kristin Louise Atherton," I said, with force. "It is my problem. I share it with you. You're my friend. My

someday sister, remember?"

That, at least, brought a half-smile to Kristin's face. "If we can convince Guthrie to marry me, right?"

"It won't take much convincing," I said, stoutly. "He's crazy about you."

Kristin's pretty face was transformed. By a full-out smile this time.

7

Later on, when Kristin was in the kitchen, happily helping Hannah bake, I went looking for Guthrie.

I had found Ford first, and asked him how his talk had gone that morning with Guthrie.

"He doesn't really feel much like talkin' right now," Ford said. "I just let him know that I'm here, if he decides

that he wants to talk."

"Oh," I said. "Where is he, do you know?"

"Last I saw him, he was working on the Jeep with Daniel."

So I went around the side of the barn, and sure enough, there was Guthrie, with his head stuck into the motor of

the Jeep. Daniel was actually sitting inside of the engine, his head bent down under the hood, and leaning over

to twist a wrench on something.

"Hi," I said, in a general way, to both of them.

"Hey," Daniel said, without looking up from his task.

"Try that," Guthrie said to Daniel, and Daniel turned the wrench again. I have to admit, the

motor of a vehicle is still a mystery to me. Beyond the most basic stuff, like oil checks, and replacing wiper blades,

which Daniel has insisted that I learn.

"How about it?" Guthrie asked.

"Nope," Daniel said, sounding frustrated.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, mostly in conversation. Not that I would have any real understanding to

the answer.

Daniel knows me well. "Well, the thingy-ma-bob isn't firing correctly, so the thing-a-ma-jig needs some

more lookin' at."

"Ha, ha," I said, giving him a poke in his back. "You're so funny."

"How much longer are you gonna be?" I asked, leaning my head under the hood as well.

"No idea," Daniel said.

"Do you want to go fishing?" I asked Guthrie.

Guthrie kept his attention on the motor. "Nah."

"Why not?" I asked.

"I'm busy."

"Well, how about after you're done helping Daniel then?" I asked.

"No, thanks, Har."

"You can go if you want, Guth," Daniel offered.

"Nah, I'll stick around here and help ya," Guthrie said.

"Well, what about later?" I asked Guthrie.

He didn't answer right away, and I said, "What do you want to do later on?"

"I don't feel like doin' anything," Guthrie said, in answer. And then, for the first time in the conversation, he looked up to

meet my eyes. "Okay?" he asked, a bit softer.

"Oh." I wanted to press Guthrie, to keep on at him until he'd agreed to do something fun. Something that I thought

might take his mind off of Kenny.

But I sensed that would be a mistake. Guthrie was all closed off.

"Okay, then. See you guys later," I said.

"Hey, squirt," Daniel said, as I turned to walk away.

"Huh?" I asked, looking back.

"Some guy called a while ago for you, while I was in the house gettin' a drink."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Bill, somebody. He said he'd call back later on."

"Okay. Thanks," I said.

7

It was later on in the afternoon, and I was just sort of moping around the house. It seemed as though I

just couldn't settle into anything. I felt as though my nerves were on jangly edge. I made a fresh pot of

strong coffee, and stood there while it brewed, and then pouring myself a large cup of it.

I knew I could have stayed in the kitchen, and helped with baking, and hung around with Hannah and Kristin. But,

I just didn't feel like it for some reason. I went to the living room, and sat in one of the recliners, trying to read my

book, and drinking my coffee. Crane was still sitting at the desk, working over the ranch ledgers and every once in

awhile, tearing a check out of the checkbook.

I got up to go refill my coffee cup, and then came back again, picking up my book, and then

flapping it shut. I curled up in the recliner, tucking my legs up underneath me, and guzzling my coffee.

I was just sort of staring into space. I hadn't even realized that I had sighed heavily, until Crane

said, "What's the matter?"

I looked at him in surprise. "What?"

He was turned in his chair, watching me. "I asked you what's the matter," he repeated.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Nothing, huh?" he asked, he asked, raising an eyebrow in obvious disbelief.

I shrugged. "I just feel weird."

"Diabetes weird?" he asked, immediately, looking concerned.

"No, not like that. Just jumpy. On edge. Like I can't concentrate."

"Maybe it has something to do with the three cups of coffee you've sucked down in the last thirty minutes," Crane said

dryly.

"Not three," I protested. "Two. Not three."

Crane nodded towards my 'Carlsbad Caverns' coffee cup, which is giant sized.

"In that cup, it equals at least three from a regular cup," Crane pointed out.

"Statistically speaking, coffee's been proven to be good for a person," I said. "All sorts of health benefits to it."

"Oh, yeah?" he countered, sounding amused.

"Uh huh," I said, with a half-smile at him.

He took off his glasses, laying them on the desk. "I've got to go into town after a while. Do you want to ride

along?"

"Sure," I said, brightening at the prospect of getting out for a while, even if it was only to Murphys.

"Okay. I'm going to put on a clean shirt," Crane said.

"Okay," I said, and scrambled out of the recliner, laying my book on the edge of the desk, and going to put my cup

in the kitchen.

"I'm going with Crane for a while," I told Hannah. "Into town."

"He must be going to pick up the check for the cattle," Hannah remarked, as she leaned down to peer into

the oven, at the cake baking there.

While I was standing there, waiting for Crane to come back downstairs, I told Hannah about earlier, when Bill

had asked me to go out with him.

Hannah straightened, and pushed her hair away from her eyes. "Well, that's nice," she said, managing to sound

pleased, but yet wary at the same time. Like I said, she has this 'mom' thing down.

"Daniel said he already called, too," I said.

"When are you thinking to go out with him?" Hannah asked.

"I don't know. We didn't have time to decide that. I'll have to wait until he calls again, and see," I said.

"You're going to have to talk to your brothers about it first," Hannah reminded me. "You know that."

"I know. I will."

Kristin, who'd been silent up until this point in the conversation, said, "I remember seeing him at the end of the school year. He

was in my Spanish class. He seemed real nice."

Just at that time, I heard Crane calling me from the living room.

"Oh, gotta go," I said. "See you later."

Both Hannah and Kristin told me goodbye, and I bounded into the living room, where Crane was standing

at the desk, gathering up envelopes and papers.

"Don't let me forget to stop at the post office," Crane told me. "Need to buy some stamps to mail all these out."

I glanced at the handful of envelopes he held in one hand.

"Bills?" I asked him.

"Mostly."

We got in the old farm truck, and were chugging along, with the windows down.

"Are you going to pick up the check for the cattle?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Will we be able to pay for everything? Once you put the check in the bank?"

"We'll be doing alright," Crane said, in answer.

After that, he started talking about the fast-approaching school year.

"You ought to be brushing up on your math skills," Crane said. "Taking trigonometry's going to require some real work

on your part."

"Ugh," I said. Just the thought of the trig class made me anxious.

"What's 'ugh'?" Crane demanded.

"Just-ugh," I told him. "I don't like to think about it."

"I get that. But it would be way better for you if you start now. Have Ford help you."

"Okay," I conceded reluctantly.

I thought for a few minutes, and then I asked, "What about another college night class? Can I do that?"

"What class are you thinking about?"

"Well," I considered, "Maybe a history class? What do you think about that?"

"It sounds good." He was looking thoughtful, and then he went on. "Your regular classes come ahead of that, though. You have to

be able to handle the trig class and all the others, and keep up your grades in those."

"I know," I said.

"If you're struggling with those, then you might need to wait on the night class."

"Signups are soon, though," I pointed out. "Right after school starts is when the night classes begin."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Well, if you think you can handle it, then it's alright with me."

"Okay."

I remembered what Miss Noel had said at Adam's birthday bbq.

"Remember what Cindy said?" I asked him. "About that opportunity where I could work at a job in town, and get

credit hours for it?"

"I remember."

"What do you think about that?" I went on talking before he could reply. "I was thinking I could talk to Ivy, about maybe

helping her. Since that's the field of work that I want to go into. And I'd be making a little bit of money, too. Plus getting credit hours."

"It sounds to me like taking on an awful lot," Crane said.

"The working part would be when I would normally be at school anyway," I pointed out. "So that wouldn't be like taking

on too much."

"You'd owe Ivy a hundred percent while you were there."

"I know. I would. Give a hundred percent."

"What about the other part of it?" he asked. "Wasn't part of it, agreeing to maintain all classes at a

certain GPA?"

"Yeah. A 3.5, I think is what Cindy said."

"Your plate would definitely be full," Crane said.

"Yeah," I said, in agreement. I hesitated. "Is it alright, though? If I apply for the program? There's a chance that I

won't be chosen for it, anyway."

"And, there's a chance that you would be chosen," Crane countered.

I waited, watching him. He pulled the visor down to block the sun, and then said, slowly, "I just don't want to see you

take on so much that you aren't able to keep up with things, and then get overwhelmed."

"Well, what if I didn't take a college night class?" I suggested. "Would you agree to me applying for the job program then?"

"You'd rather do that? Then take a night course?" he asked, turning to look at me.

"I'd rather do it all," I admitted. "But, if you're only going to give me permission to do one or the other, then, yeah, I think I'd

like to apply for the program."

"I'm not saying I won't agree. I just want you to stay healthy, and still have some time to relax and all that."

"Okay," I said.

"Let's just table it for right now," he said. "Start working with Ford on that trigonometry and we'll talk about this again

before school starts up. Alright?"

"Okay," I said again.

7

Once in town, Crane went to the sale barn. The auction was mostly over by that time. There were still quite a few ranchers

around though, talking, or pulling their trailers. Once he'd parked the truck, we got out to walk to the office. Just walking that

short distance, we kept seeing other people that we knew. Neighbors, or ranchers from the area.

Crane stopped to talk to a couple of them, and then we went into the air-conditioned office.

Pansy McDowell has taken care of the running of the sale barn office for as long as I can remember. She grew up on a ranch

in the area, then married a rancher. When he died, she sold her ranch, but began working at the sale barn office. I wasn't

certain about her age, but thought she was somewhere near to seventy years old. She's still agile, and quick, and she definitely

knows all there is to know about cattle and the sale barn business.

She greeted Crane with a twinkle in her eye. "I wondered if you or one of those other brothers of yours would be in to

pick up your check."

"Hey there, Pansy," Crane said, smiling at her.

Pansy rambled on to Crane for a few minutes, about how many head of cattle had been brought in for the sale that morning,

and how the auctioneer got an emergency call from his pregnant wife.

"So when the call came in for Clive, saying his wife was needing to head to the hospital, we had to have Earl Johnson fill

in for the rest of the sale."

"That's good news, about Clive's baby," Crane said.

"It surely is," Pansy agreed. "Let's hope it's a boy this time. Four girls they have already."

She began to sort thru the sealed envelopes lying on her desk. "McFadden, McFadden," she muttered to herself, and then

she handed it across the counter to Crane, with a flourish. "There you go. You did fine today, Crane. Got a good price for your

cattle."

"Couldn't have better news than that," Crane said, taking the envelope and smiling at Pansy.

As they left the sale barn lot, to walk back to the truck, there was more people saying hello.

Crane stood beside the truck, opening the envelope, and looking at the check inside.

"Was she right?" I asked. "It's good?"

"It's good."

We drove out onto the highway, and then on to Angels Camp, where Crane parked in front of the bank.

"I'll just be a few minutes," he told me. "You coming in with me?"

"I'll stay out here," I said, and began rooting thru the console.

"What are you looking for?" Crane asked.

"There was some tootsie pop suckers in here."

I began pulling out feed receipts, sticks of gum that had gotten hard with age, cattle ear tags, and a bunch of other

miscellaneous stuff.

"Look at this mess," I said, as Crane was getting out of the truck.

"Don't just throw it all on the floor of the truck," Crane told me, and went on up the bank steps.

He was back, as promised, within a few minutes. I thought he looked relieved, and I figured it was because

there was a bit of financial breathing room, for a change.

We drove back to Murphys, and he parked in front of the post office. He went in to buy stamps, and mail all

the bills.

Once back behind the steering wheel, he said, "Want to get a chocolate shake?"

I considered. "We could go to the café. Say hi to Marie. And get a piece of pie."

"Sounds good to me," he agreed.

So we drove the short distance to the café. Marie, predictably, was glad to see us. Even though it was way after the

noon hour, there were still quite a few people eating. Crane waved at a couple of people, as Marie came over to

greet us.

"Hello there, tall man," she greeted Crane, with affection.

To me, she slipped an arm around my waist. "How's my girl?" she asked.

"Fine," I told her.

"What can I get for the two of you?" she asked, as we sat down in the first booth, near the door.

"Coconut pie?" Crane asked her, hopefully.

"Alright, and how about you?" she asked me.

"Um," I hesitated, thinking. "Strawberry shortcake. If you have it."

"Coming right up," Marie said, and bustled away, calling out a greeting to someone else that was coming in.

Crane and I took our time eating our dessert, and we both had refills on our sweet tea. I was enjoying my time

with him. He was a lot more relaxed appearing, since we had some money in the bank.

I didn't notice at first when he came into the café, and sat down at the front counter. He seemed really unsteady on

his feet, and nearly missed the stool.

"Crane, look," I said, quietly. "It's Frank. Kristin's stepfather. You saw him that one time, remember?"

Crane gave a quick glance, and took another drink of tea.

Frank talked loudly to Marie for a couple of minutes, and Marie set a cup of something in front of him.

I took in Frank's appearance, from the back. His shirt was untucked, and his hair was sticking up.

He got up after taking a few sips from the cup, and stood there, seeming unsteady. His gaze swept around

the café, and then he seemed to see Crane and I sitting there.

He began to make his way around the tables towards us.

"He's coming over here," I told Crane in a low voice.

Crane gave a glance, but seemed unconcerned.

When Frank had made it to our booth, he leaned against it with one hand.

"You McFaddens like to mix into things that got nothin' to do with you, isn't that right?" His voice was loud. Really loud.

7