The rest of the day passed, and Bill didn't call again. I knew even while I was outside, that somebody inside the house would
answer the phone, and let me know. Clare or Hannah would have called me inside. But, they didn't have to. Because he didn't call
again.
I puzzled over while we ate a cold supper of sandwiches. Guthrie was still silent, seemingly preoccupied. I knew he was
thinking about Kristin, and her home situation, or about Kenny. Maybe he was thinking about both of those.
My own mind was full, too. I kept thinking back to Frank, and how badly I felt about how Kristin had to be in that
situation. To be honest, thinking about Bill had helped take my mind off of Kristin, and Kenny, too.
There was a knock at the front door, while we were still at the table, and Ford got up to go see who it was, his sandwich in his
hand. We could hear him talking to someone in the living room, their voices mixing together.
"Who's that?" Hannah asked, looking down the table at Adam.
"Sounds like Hal," Adam said, mentioning the sheriff by name.
"Let's see what he has to say," Brian said, scooting his chair away from the table, and standing up.
Nearly everybody filed into the living room after Adam and Brian. Well, except for Clare, who began on the dishes, and Daniel, who
took the spot beside her at the sink, to dry them. Well, and Guthrie, who kept his seat at the table, still eating, and not looking as
though he gave a tinker's damn what the sheriff had to say in the other room.
I figured that it had something to do with updating about the case, since Kenny would have been to talk to the sheriff's department
by now.
I stayed where I was, too, next to Guthrie, and finishing up my fruit salad that Hannah had made to go along with the
sandwiches we'd had.
"Don't you want to hear what they're saying?" I asked Guthrie, quietly.
"If I did, I'd be in there, too," Guthrie said.
"Oookaaay," I said, in exaggeration.
"She was just askin' a question, Guth," Daniel remonstrated, from where he leaned against the counter, facing us as he
dried a plate.
Guthrie flicked a look towards Daniel, and then took a long drink of his tea, sitting his glass down harder than he needed to.
"You don't need to be givin' me a lecture, Daniel," Guthrie said, in a tone that suggested a challenge.
"I wasn't givin' a lecture," Daniel said.
I looked at Daniel then, too. He was still making the pretense of drying the plate, but his expression was hard on Guthrie.
"Sounded like it," Guthrie said.
"Nope. Just pointing out that you don't need to act like an ass, is all," Daniel said.
"You know what, Daniel?" Guthrie said, scraping his chair back and standing up. "You don't need to tell me anything!"
And, with that, Guthrie stomped out the back door, letting it flap shut with a slam.
Clare had turned around by this time, too, and she looked at Daniel and then at me. And then she shook her head
a little, her eyes wide.
"Wow," she said.
Daniel put the dried plate away in the cabinet, and reached for another one to dry.
"Maybe I ought to try talking to him," I said, considering.
I could tell by the expression on Daniel's face that he didn't think that was too good of an idea.
"You don't think I should?" I asked him.
"Not right now," Daniel said. "If I were you, I'd just leave him be for awhile."
Clare turned back to the sink of dishes. "So much going on," she said.
I got up and took my plate to the sink, and then I went to the edge of the living room, leaning against the wall, and
listening. It was the sheriff, Hal, with one of his deputies. I couldn't remember if it was the one that couldn't ride horseback, or the
other one.
They were all standing in sort of a semi-circle, talking, except for Evan, who was sitting on the arm of one of the couches.
From the conversation, I determined that there had been two arrests made already that morning. Wow, I thought. That had
been fast. Kenny had supplied some names, and thru the two arrests, there was more connections being made.
"Still a lot more questions to be answered," the sheriff was saying. "But at least we're making some progress now."
They talked a few more minutes, and then Hal and the deputy left, with Hal saying something about keeping us all updated.
When they'd gone, Crane shut the front door, and then he, and everybody else, just sort of stood there, in the quiet
for a long few moments.
"Well," Crane said.
"Yeah," Adam said. "They're figuring it out, it sounds like."
"And Kenny helped that along," Brian added. He sounded as if he was thinking. Considering. He looked at me, where
I stood, leaning against the wall, my hands folded behind my back.
Everybody began to separate then. Adam held a hand out to Hannah, and asked her if she wanted to take a walk.
Evan passed by me, heading back to the kitchen. To finish his sandwich, I figured.
Brian came to where I stood, and paused beside me. "You alright, peach?" he asked me.
"I guess," I said.
The evening sort of went downhill after that. I tried calling Kristin, but Frank answered, and I ended up just hanging up
on him, without saying a word. I couldn't bring myself to ask him to call Kristin to the phone.
I called Lori and talked for awhile, just to sort of feel as if I had a link to the outside world. To talk about stuff that had nothing
to do with Kristin's bad home situation, or about the whole debacle surrounding the Mustangs, and Kenny's involvement in it.
Nancy had driven over after work, and she and Evan and Ford were watching a movie on television. Adam was sitting on the couch,
holding Isaac. Crane and Daniel had gone out somewhere with Cindy and one of her friends. Hannah and Clare were upstairs, sorting thru one of the closets.
Brian had gone outside again. Which left Guthrie. And I had no idea where he had gotten to. I sat down beside Adam for awhile, playing with
Isaac, and then I got up to go outside, too.
I began looking around for Guthrie, looking in all the obvious places. He wasn't on the front porch, or by the corral, or in the barn. Though I
did find Brian in the barn, where he had his saddle over a saddle rack, and was cleaning it.
I stood at the barn door for a couple of moments, watching him, until he took notice of me standing there.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi."
I came over to stand closer to him, leaning against one of the stall walls, continuing to watch him as he worked. Brian is the sort of
person who does things quickly generally, but while he was polishing the saddle, his movements were slow, and methodical.
After a few moments of silence between us, Brian spoke up. "You were right about Kenny," he said, quietly.
I met his eyes across the saddle. "Yeah," I said, just as quietly.
"I should've listened a little closer to you," he said.
He sounded regretful, and I shook my head. I didn't want him to feel badly.
"It's okay, Bri." I shrugged. "You didn't want to think it of Kenny."
"Nope. I didn't," he said, and sighed.
After a bit more silence, I said, "I don't know how to help Guthrie."
Brian looked thoughtful. "Its tough," he finally said.
"Hand me that rag, will ya?" he asked me, gesturing towards a shelf behind me. I turned to look, and picked up the worn towel. I handed it
to him, and he dipped a corner of it in the saddle soap.
"Do you think I should try talking to him?" I asked, rubbing at the smoothness of the saddle horn. "Or leave him alone? That's what
Daniel said."
"I don't see as it's wrong to try talkin' to him," Brian said. "You two have always had somethin' special between you. Just go easy.
Don't crowd him. Let him be the one to bring it up."
What Brian said made good sense. I nodded. "Okay. Do you know where he is?"
"He told me he was gonna take a walk. That was awhile ago. Maybe check at the creek?" he suggested. "I think that's where he was heading to."
And then, we heard the braying of the burro. He'd been quiet for a bit, and hadn't been up near the horses for most of the day.
"And, he's back," Brian said dryly.
I couldn't help my smile at his dry tone.
I went out thru the pasture, to give the burro a greeting. Still, there was no sign of the Jenny.
"How are you, huh, boy?" I asked him.
The burro regarded me with those huge eyes. Waiting, obviously, for an apple, or a horse treat.
"I'm not supposed to feed you, fella," I said. Then, thinking, I scooped up a bit of hay that was on the ground, that had
been trampled by the other horses.
I held it out to the burro. Technically, it wasn't feeding him, I justified. After all, the burro could have eaten the hay himself. Holding
it out was only to reinforce to him that I was his friend, and that he could trust me.
The burro sniffed at the hay, and then, not impressed, he took a step or two backward, and gave me a look as if to say, 'you're kidding'.
I began to walk on down towards the creek, and as I was about to follow the worn path, and the barn and house were out of sight, I
looked back. The burro was trotting along, following me. I smiled in satisfaction, and made my way on down to the creek.
It was cooler as I approached. It's always cooler at the creek, with all the trees for shade over the water.
I trekked my way thru the taller grass, and then, when I spotted Guthrie, I stopped, watching him. He was just sitting at the
edge of the creek. I walked closer, studying him from the back. He was sitting cross-legged, tugging at tufts of grass.
I was nearly up upon him, when he looked up.
"Hi," I greeted him.
"Hey."
"It's cool here," I said, in conversation.
"Yeah."
A bit of silence, and then I thought about asking him if I could sit down next to him. Then, I decided that was stupid. So,
I just sank to the ground next to him, cross-legged, without asking.
I stayed quiet, though. Partly, I was remembering Brian's advice to go easy. And also, it was more what I sensed that I should do.
I began to pick up small pebbles, tossing them into the water, and watching the rings grow larger.
It was Guthrie who finally spoke again. "Have you talked to Kristin?" he asked me.
"No. I tried calling, but he answered the phone, and so I just hung up." There was no need to identify the 'he' of which I spoke.
"Ass," Guthrie muttered.
"Yeah," I agreed. "I asked Crane why he didn't just knock him on his butt. He said that wouldn't prove anything, except that he
could do it."
"I guess that's right," Guthrie said.
"Yeah. I still wish he would have done it though," I said, and Guthrie flicked a glance at me. There was a glimmer of
amusement in his eyes.
"Not me," he said.
"How come?" I asked.
"'Cause I wouldn't have been there to see it," Guthrie said, and I giggled.
7