Guthrie and I hung around at the creek for the rest of the evening. It wasn't so hot now. The afternoon heat had dissipated, and
under the shade of the trees, it was really comfortable. We had a rock skipping contest, which Guthrie won. No surprise there. I'd never quite
mastered the art of rock skipping, even though my brothers have definitely tried to school me in it over the years.
Finally, I gave it up, and went to sit on the very edge of the bank, letting my feet dangle in the water.
"Come on," Guthrie urged me. "I'll show you what you're doin' wrong."
"Nope," I said. "I give up. You're way better at it than me."
"Well, sure I am," Guthrie said, sounding almost lighthearted. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed hanging out with Guthrie, just
the two of us.
Guthrie came over closer to me. "Want to head back to the house?" he asked me.
"Let's stay awhile longer," I said.
If I was to admit it, I dreaded leaving the creek because even though Guthrie was still quieter than usual, he wasn't
as angry appearing as he'd been lately. I thought once we got back to the house, he might get all tense and grumpy again.
"Okay," Guthrie said, flopping to the ground beside me. He laid on his back, folding his arms underneath his head, and looking
up thru the trees.
"You're going to be a senior in high school," I said, in conversation. "It's hard to believe."
"Yeah," Guthrie said, in agreement. "It is, sort of."
"Do you think Trent will get a scholarship to play college football?" I asked him.
"He might. He's good enough to."
After a few moments of peaceful silence, Guthrie said, "I wish Kristin didn't have to be in that hell-hole of a house."
"Me, too."
"Frank was pretty drunk, huh? When you and Crane saw him in town?" he asked.
"About like he usually is. He wasn't slurring his words or anything like that. Just bumping into a table, and generally acting
like a dumbass," I said.
"I really hate that guy," Guthrie said.
I looked over at him. He was still looking upwards, at the sky thru the trees. His voice as he said it had been quiet. So very quiet.
"Me, too," I said again.
It was a while after that, it, the sun had begun to lower, and we heard a shrill whistle.
"Hey!" hollered a voice from still some distance away.
Guthrie and I exchanged a look, and at exactly the same moment, said together, "Evan."
When Evan appeared atop the bank, looking down at us, he said, "You could have answered me, you know. Kept me from
walkin' all the way down here."
"What would we wanna do that for?" Guthrie asked, mischievously.
Evan came down the bank, and stood over both of us. "It would have been the polite thing to do," he said, and I grinned
at him.
"You need the exercise, Ev."
"Oh, I do, huh?" he demanded, giving me a steely glance.
"I'm only thinking of you," I said, purposely making my tone all sugary and sweet.
"I could get some exercise by tossin' you in the water," he threatened. "How about that?"
He made a pretend grab for me, and I retaliated by fastening my hands around one of his legs. He kept trying to
dislodge me, shaking his leg, until finally he and I were both winded.
"Okay, that's it," he said. "Turn loose. I'm tired of monkeying around with you."
I turned loose, laughing.
"Why were you lookin' for us, anyhow?" Guthrie asked him.
"Just makin' sure you were down here. Hannah was worried 'cause you've been gone so long. I told her I'd come and see if
you children were safe."
"Who you callin' children?" Guthrie asked, from his position looking up.
I was so relieved to hear Guthrie joking around with Evan that way, that I felt my heart tighten.
Guthrie and I got up, and we all started back towards the house.
"If you were gonna spend all damn day down here, the least you could have done was bring the poles, so you could have caught
a few fish," Evan was saying as we walked.
"You can cast a pole the same as I can," Guthrie responded, and they mock-scuffled for a few steps.
I wanted to keep Guthrie's good mood continuing. "I've got an idea," I said, bouncing my way in between them as
we walked. "Let's play cards or something."
Neither one of them responded, and I gave Evan a poke in the ribs. "Okay?" I prompted him.
"I'm tired," he complained.
"Ok, old man," I said, hoping to goad him into agreeing.
"Yep. That's it. An old man," Evan said, seemingly unbothered.
"I bet Nancy will want to play a game," I persisted.
"She left. She has an early shift in the morning," Evan said.
"Oh." I was disappointed that I hadn't gotten to spend any time with Nancy.
Once back at the house, Guthrie went inside to get something to eat. I situated myself in the hammock, with Fat Clarence. Our hammock is
one of those really big ones, oversized, made of white canvas.
After a few minutes, Ford came out the back door, and came over to the hammock. He had a bowl of popcorn in his hand.
He started the hammock swinging with his empty hand.
"Are Crane and Daniel home yet?" I asked him.
"Not yet."
"Is Guthrie coming back out?" I asked.
Ford shrugged, his mouth full of popcorn.
"Guth-reee!" I hollered towards the screen door leading to the kitchen.
"What?" Guthrie hollered back, sticking his head out.
"Come back out when you get your food!" I told him.
Guthrie's head disappeared.
"He seems better," Ford said, low.
"Yeah," I said, and Ford made a move to sit down in the hammock alongside of me.
"Move over," he ordered.
"Forrrd-" I protested, but I tried to scooch over to make room.
When he'd gotten into the hammock, he kept one foot on the ground, and kept it swinging.
Guthrie came back out, and sat in a lawn chair, eating his cake. But, he only stayed for a few minutes, and then said he was
going up to bed.
"G'night," he said, getting to his feet.
"Night," Ford said, and I answered, "'Night, Guth."
When he'd gone, Ford and I sat in the hammock, mostly in silence, for awhile.
He kept munching on that popcorn, until the temptation was too much for me, and I reached over to grab some.
It was starting to get dusk by now.
"Before I came into the living room, did the sheriff say what was going to happen to Kenny?" I asked Ford.
"No. He wouldn't have been able to say," Ford said.
"Why?" I asked.
"He probably doesn't know for sure. That would be up to a judge. And, he wouldn't say anyway. That's private
information."
I hadn't thought about where Kenny would be at, right at that very moment.
"Do you think Kenny's at home, though? Right now, I mean?" I asked. "He wouldn't have had to go to detention, or jail yet, would he?"
"I don't know, Har."
I couldn't understand my own feelings. I had spent most of the summer being angry at Kenny, and being certain that he'd
hurt my dog. Which, more than likely, he had. But now, when I thought of him, and the way that he'd been crying so hard
when he was talking to me, well, it made me feel all weird inside. Sort of sad for him.
I told Ford all of that, and asked him what he thought.
He held out the bowl of popcorn towards me, offering more, and when I reached over to take another handful, he said,
"You feel like that because you're a good person."
I munched, studying Ford's profile in the dusk, as he continued. "Even though Kenny did what he did, you don't like to
think of him hurting."
"I wonder what Guthrie really thinks," I mused. "Whether he's mad at Kenny, or hasn't decided how he feels. He didn't
talk about it this afternoon. And Brian said to let him be the one to bring it up."
"I don't know what he's thinking," Ford said.
I sighed, and after that, when Ford offered me more of the popcorn, I said no. I laid there, watching as the stars began
to pop out in the sky. Eventually, Ford stopped using his foot to swing the hammock with, and we were just still.
7
The next morning at breakfast, Adam did some talking to everybody about how well we'd done with the cattle selling.
And then we all got a check. Every one of us. Except for Clare, and Hannah, since they shared in with Brian and Adam's. But the
rest of us got our own. By now, everybody except for Guthrie and I turned right around and chipped some money back into
the household again. Ford doesn't do a lot, really, since he's in college and has expenses for that. But the others all help pay
for utilities, and feed, and house repairs, and all of that stuff. I knew that even when Daniel is in Tennessee, he sends money
home regularly.
And I was fairly certain that all the money they tossed into the household bills wasn't always equal, but the point is, everybody
does their share.
Since Guthrie and I are still underage and all that, we don't have to give back any of our earnings to the household bills. Of course, we
don't get nearly as much as the older guys. And Adam always tells Ford to keep all his, too. But, we're expected to be cautious with the money,
since it's a long time again before we sell any more cattle. Sometimes Guthrie and I buy our own clothes for the start of the new school year. And sometimes, we
don't. It just depends on what else we want to use the money for, and if we've had an especially lucrative season.
All in all, I was surprised, and really glad about the amount on my check.
So that was a good start to the day. And considering all the news we'd had lately, it was welcome.
Evan said after lunch he was going to go to town and put his check in the bank, and I asked if I could ride along with him to
do mine. Then Ford and Guthrie chimed in, and so it was a full truck cab of us that headed into town later. As usual, I was the
one who got the short end of things. I was squeezed tightly in between Ford and Guthrie, while Evan drove.
I had that other money, from Karissa, the fifty dollars that she'd sent in the mail to me. I'd never put it in the bank like I told
Adam that I would, and I'd nearly forgotten about it. So I brought that along, intent on putting it into my savings account.
Once in Angels Camp, and finished at the bank, we climbed back into the truck, driving the short distance to the
gas station. Then we piled out again, and while Evan was filling up his truck with gas, the three of us went into the gas station,
and got a bottle of pop out of the old cooler near the back. While we were paying for that, and waiting on Evan to come inside, I
was listening to the buzz of gossip. Which was, naturally enough, about the two arrests that had been made by the sheriff's office.
There were several older ranchers, just standing around, shooting the breeze, as Brian would say.
Names were popping up, of the two people who'd been arrested. One of their identities was not known, and names were being
tossed back and forth in speculation as to who it was.
One such speculated upon person was Seth Foreman. I heard that, and felt Guthrie looking at me. I didn't look back at him. It's not as though I cared
about Seth. I didn't.
The group of men began discussing the various acts of property damage that had occurred, the run over fences, and tire ruts in fields, and all of that.
By now, Evan was inside, too, and, having paid for his gasoline, he was over picking thru the cold bottles of pop. He pulled out a
grape Nehi, and went to pay the cashier for that.
One of the men, who supposedly had a nephew-in-law that worked for the sheriff's department, was stating with certainty
that it was Kenny, who'd given the names. Which we, McFaddens, had known already. But, to hear it out and out like that, I was sure
would bother Guthrie.
The man went on to talk about Kenny's involvement, and there was some general tsk-tsk about how it was a shame that Kenny
was putting his parents thru such an ordeal.
Guthrie, silently, and without any show of emotion, went outside without saying a word, letting the screen door of the gas station flap
shut behind him, the bell jingling overhead.
I looked at Ford, who shook his head, looking sorrowful.
And then, when we probably would have gone on out to join Guthrie and head for Murphys, those men started talking about the
Mustangs. It seemed to be the general consensus of the group that the Mustangs were a big nuisance. I listened and came to the
conclusion that most of them, without the exception of maybe two men, didn't care at all about the Mustangs being ran, or captured
for selling at the dog food factories. They wanted the case settled, obviously, but only because of the lost time fixing the fences that
had been trampled and all of that.
I was filled with righteous indignation. I listened, filling my temper rise.
Obviously, my brothers know me well.
"Let's go," Evan said, and he and Ford began to file out of the station, walking around the group. I knew Evan was suggesting we get
going so that I wouldn't get all steamed.
I stood where I was. What a bunch of ignorant men! Talking about the Mustangs that way.
"Those horses aren't bothering anybody," I heard myself saying. "They're just trying to survive."
I was regarded with several pairs of eyes. A couple of the men, which consisted of a group of five, looked somewhat amused
at my statement.
"You're a crusader, are you, little lady?" one of them asked me.
Before I could respond to him, one of the others turned a steely glance onto me. This one didn't look in the least bit
amused.
"Maybe you shouldn't oughta mix into a conversation that doesn't concern you, young lady," he said.
"The Mustangs do concern me," I said.
He glared at me. I thought I'd seen him around Murphys, but I wasn't sure of his name.
"A conversation that ain't your business then," he amended.
I had my mouth open to tell him that the preservation of the Mustangs was everybody's business, but Evan was at my elbow.
I hadn't even noticed him coming back over to where I stood.
"Come on," Evan said, quietly.
I shot him a look and got ready to protest, but then, just as quickly, I closed my mouth. The look he was giving me
made me hush. He didn't look mad or anything. Just more, intractable, I guess is the right word. He had every intention that
I was going to do what he told me. And, since I didn't relish the idea of him picking me up and toting me out, or yanking me
along behind him, I started walking to the door.
"Kids don't know when to mind their tongue. Downright disrespectful," the man said. The one that had gotten all huffy.
"Oh my gosh," I muttered, and turned around to give him a scathing look.
Evan gave me another push, right in the center of my back. And it wasn't too gentle of a push, either.
"Ev-" I protested.
"Just go," he said.
We were outside now, in the bright sun, and the door was flapping shut behind us.
Evan still had his hand on me, and I tried to shrug it off. "You don't have to shove," I informed him.
"It seemed like the best idea," Evan responded. "Shootin' off your mouth like that."
I stopped and turned to look at him incredulously. "You aren't saying that you agree with those buffoons!"
"Of course I don't. But you doesn't mean you need to be rowdying things up."
I muttered to myself as we all crowded back into Evan's truck. Guthrie was already there, sitting against the passenger door.
I looked at him, as I slid across the seat. He was drinking from his bottle of pop, and looking out the window, so I couldn't see
his entire expression.
We drove along in silence for a few miles, and then, nearly back to Murphys, Ford said, "It's big news right now. So people all around
here are bound to be talking about it."
"Yeah," Evan said, in agreement.
Neither I, or Guthrie offered a comment.
7