Downstairs, a few minutes later, Charlie greeted Scott with a hug. Scott took in her bare feet and nightclothes with a smile.

"Ready for bed?" he asked.

"No. But Teresa said I smelled like fish," Charlie told him.

"Well, you did," Teresa said. "Did the two of you eat?" she asked Scott, looking at him and Johnny.

"We did," Scott said.

"There's cherry pie," Teresa said. "And some hot coffee."

"Sounds good, hermanita," Johnny said, wrapping an arm around Teresa's waist.

"Do you want me to bring it into the library, or have it in the kitchen?" Teresa asked.

"We can eat in the kitchen," Murdoch said. "No need for you to carry everything to the library."

So the five of them went to the kitchen, where Teresa began pouring coffee into cups, and Murdoch set the cherry pie in the

center of the kitchen table, along with plates and forks.

Since there were only four chairs at the table, Charlie perched herself on Scott's knee, while she ate her piece of pie, and drank another

glass of milk. She stayed mostly quiet, while the adults conversed around her, feeling happy inside.

"How was the fishing?" Scott asked her.

"It was good!" Charlie told him, gleefully. "I caught two fish-one was a catfish."

"That's good," Scott said.

"When are we gonna get to eat those fish?" Johnny asked, his eyes teasing.

"Jelly cleaned them for me, maybe Maria will cook them tomorrow," Charlie said, hopefully. "I'll ask her-"

"You could cook them yourself," Teresa suggested. "You're old enough to start learning to cook."

Ever since her fiasco with the stove the time that she'd tried to prepare supper for the three Lancer men, Charlie had been a bit, if she admitted it,

frightened to attempt anything more.

"That's right," Scott said. "You've helped to cook fish before-when we camped out. Remember?"

"Mostly I just watched you do it, though," Charlie said, doubtfully. "And that was outside-it's different cooking outside. It's not so

scary."

"I'll help you if you want," Teresa offered, and Charlie nodded.

"School go well today?" Scott asked her.

Charlie nodded her head again, her mouth full of a bite of cherry pie. When she'd nearly finished what was on her plate,

she pushed her plate forward. "Can I have another piece?" she asked, in a general way.

"Charlie."

At Scott's word, Charlie gave him an impish smile. "May I have another piece?" she corrected herself.

"May I is correct," Scott said. "But, I think one piece is enough. You'll end up with a stomach ache."

"I have a cast iron stomach," Charlie said, again looking impish.

"Is that right?" Scott asked, and Johnny laughed.

"Where'd you hear that at, pequeno?" Johnny asked her.

Charlie had heard Monte brag about the same, and had asked him what it meant. She was convinced that her stomach was every

bit as strong as Monte's was, when it came to eating sweets.

"Monte told me," she said.

"One piece is enough, cast iron stomach or not," Scott said. "Did you have schoolwork to finish?"

"I have to copy my spelling words."

Scott patted her leg. "Better get started on it. It'll be bedtime for you soon enough."

Charlie repressed a sigh, and stood up, taking her plate and fork to the sink. She left the family in the coziness of the kitchen, reluctantly,

and went to the library, where she sat at Murdoch's desk, and copied her spelling words.

At one point, while she was working, trying to do her finest handwriting, Johnny came into the library, pouring himself a drink

from the decanter.

Charlie, glad enough for the break it offered, put down her pencil, and stood up, stretching.

"Guess what?" she said, going to stand next to him, as he poured himself a whiskey.

"What?"

"I saw baby foxes today!"

Johnny regarded her with interest. "You did?"

"Yes. Monte showed me-there's three of them altogether, and they were so tiny. He thinks they're about three weeks-the mother was off hunting-"

"Whoa, there," Johnny said, holding up a hand to forestall her burst of words.

Charlie stopped in mid-sentence to look at him.

"Where was this at?" he asked.

Charlie thought hard. "Um, I'm not sure. It was on the way back from the river-"

"Did you cross fences?"

Charlie wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement. "Uh-I think so. One."

"That's someone else's property then, pequeno," Johnny said.

Charlie kept watch on his face, clearly not understanding his point. Johnny saw this, and said, "You can't be goin' onto what belongs to

somebody else. That's their property, and they like as not don't want people tramplin' over it. They could be huntin'. It's dangerous for

ya."

"Oh," Charlie said. She hadn't thought of that when she'd been with Monte. "I didn't hear anybody shooting, though."

"Not this time, maybe."

Charlie, who'd been hoping to see the foxes again with Monte, looked up at Johnny, in disappointment.

"I didn't think there was anything wrong about looking at the babies," she said, meekly.

"Well, you've seen them, so don't cross any more fences," Johnny said. He took a drink of whiskey.

Charlie sighed a little.

"Everything that's fun is wrong in some way," she complained.

"That's not true."

"It seems like it," Charlie said.

"Well, you mind me, and don't be goin' anywhere you shouldn't," Johnny told her. He took another drink of his whiskey, and then,

when Charlie remained silent and didn't answer, he reached out to cup her chin in his hand.

"You hearin' me?" he asked.

"Yes, Johnny."

"Okay," he said.

L

Another fishing expedition was in the works for Saturday. After school Friday, Monte walked with Charlie to the stables, to

pick up Gurth.

"Can ya bring more of those churros?" Monte was asking her.

"Maybe. I can ask Maria, but she might not have time to make them tonight."

"Oh. Some chocolate cake, then?" Monte asked hopefully.

"I'll see about it," Charlie said. "Doesn't your mother make sweets for you?"

"She's always busy with other things," Monte said.

"Like what?" Charlie asked, curious.

"LIke-church work, and shoppin', and all."

"Oh." When Charlie had met Monte's mother, she hadn't liked her at first, but now thought she seemed nice enough.

"My aunt was like that," Charlie said, as they led Gurth out of the stable and stood, talking. "Not church work, she didn't do that-but she

had women's clubs, and charity work. She was never home."

"Don't ya miss livin' in the city?" Monte asked. "I mean-there'd be lots of things to do there. Not like here."

"There's not that much to do," Charlie denied. "The kids there just mostly nip apples and candy from the store keepers, and break windows

and things."

She mounted Gurth, and then looked down at Monte. "You want a ride?" she offered.

"Ya. I'll ride along with ya for a ways," Monte said. Charlie took her foot from the stirrup, and Monte climbed up, behind her.

As they rode along, out of town, Monte said, "You ever do that stuff?"

"Do what?"

"Nip apples and break windows, I mean," Monte said.

Charlie hesitated. "I never stole anything from inside the stores. And I threw rocks but I never broke any windows. At least, I don't think I did."

"Holy smokes," Monte said. "It's hard to figure. You doin' stuff like that, and runnin' the streets in a city-"

"Why is it so hard to believe?" Charlie demanded, twisting her head to glare at Monte.

It wasn't that Charlie was proud of her past behavior. She wasn't. But-it rankled her that Monte thought she was the sort that had sat

around in the city doing needlepoint and sipping tea.

"Okay, I believe ya," Monte said, with a snicker. "I bet you led the gang and everything."

Charlie thought about telling Monte that the kids she'd known then hadn't been real true friends. She didn't miss any of them, and hardly thought

of them at all. But, she swallowed back the words. Monte would get a big head, thinking that she preferred him over all others.

To make sure he was put in his place, Charlie said, "Rebecca's my best friend."

To which Monte replied, "Well, everybody knows that."

He sounded matter of fact, not as though he was bothered one bit.

"So-you comin' fishin' tomorrow?" Monte asked.

"I want to-I have to ask Scott," Charlie said. "Are you?"

"Yep. Then I'm gonna check the traps," Monte said.

"Johnny said the folks that own that land might be hunting and shoot you on accident," Charlie told him.

"You told him?" Monte demanded.

"No," Charlie said, in haste. "I mean, I didn't tell him about the traps or anything. Just about the baby foxes."

"The owner's an old man. He doesn't hunt anymore," Monte said. "All he does is stay around the house unless he's resetting his traps."

"How do you know that?" Charlie asked.

"Cause I know it, that's all. I've known him since I was a little kid," Monte said.

"Oh."

"I'll stop here," Monte said, and Charlie reined Gurth to a halt. Monte slid off, holding his lunch pail.

Charlie wondered where he was heading off to, but Monte was mysterious, always off to something.

"See ya tomorrow," he said, and waved as he headed into the trees at the side of the road.

"See you," Charlie called back to him.

The rest of the ride home, Charlie thought about those traps, and about how Monte kept tripping them, trying to keep animals

from getting caught in them. Somehow, it didn't seem as though it was wrong. It seemed like the right thing.

L