Teresa and Charlie cleaned up the kitchen, and then Teresa began to plan the evening meal.
Teresa sent Charlie went to the garden to pick vegetables. She came back in the back door, with a basket filled with tomatoes,
and peppers, and a few onions.
"Here are the vegetables," she told Teresa.
Teresa was bustling around the kitchen, and she reminded Charlie of a hummingbird, the way that she kept moving, never
stopping for more than a moment.
Charlie stood by the sink, quiet, watching Teresa. Teresa seemed nervous, Charlie thought.
"Are you worried?" she asked the older girl. Fearful of the answer. She wanted Teresa to be calm and confident, and not be
worried.
"I'm just trying to keep busy," Teresa said.
"That's not an answer," Charlie said, feeling the flutters of worry in her own stomach multiply.
Teresa paused, a pepper in one hand and a knife in the other, to survey Charlie.
"Yes, Charlie, I'm worried," she said.
"About Scott?" Charlie asked, fearfully.
"I think Scott will be alright. And that's the truth. Val is there, and I think all of that will be alright," Teresa said, reassuringly.
Charlie nodded, feeling a bit better.
"So you're worried about when they get home?" Charlie asked, then, hesitantly.
"I absolutely am," Teresa said, laying down the pepper and the knife, and moving to begin looking for a saucepan, clattering
the pans together as she did.
"But you were just helping me. And, you're grown up," Charlie said. "Murdoch can't punish you for anything you did-"
"Oh, Charlie," Teresa said. "Being grown does not mean that you can do as you please without repercussions."
"Repercussions," Charlie repeated, thinking over the word.
"Consequences," Teresa supplied. "Lectures. Stern looks. All of that."
"Oh," Charlie said, in a small voice, like a wilted flower.
Teresa noticed Charlie wilting, and said, sounding sorry, "Try not to worry. They'll be home soon, and then we can talk it
all out." In a change of subject, Teresa said, "I was thinking about preparing steaks-and potatoes, and some corn on the cob. How does
that sound?"
"Good," Charlie said, and then added, "Those are all Murdoch's favorites."
"Well, it can't hurt," Teresa said.
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Charlie went outside, and did her regular chores. She worried the whole time. It was while she was carrying a bucket of water to
the barn for the cats and two dogs to drink that she saw Johnny riding up from the west. Charlie set the bucket on the
ground where she stood, and ran to the fence, slipping thru and continued to run to him in the field.
"Hey, there, pequeno," Johnny greeted her as she ran up, and he halted his horse.
Charlie stopped, still, standing and looking up at Johnny, her hand on the horse's flank.
"Something bad happened," Charlie burst out, and then began rushing with her words. About town, and the giant of a man,
and Teresa, and Monte, and Val and Scott until Johnny held up a hand to still her.
He moved his foot from the stirrup, and held down his arm to her.
"Come up here," he said, and Charlie put her foot in the empty stirrup, and he pulled her up, behind him on the horse.
"Scott's in town, then?" Johnny said, as they rode towards the house.
"Yes, with that man! And then Murdoch went, too, and he told Teresa to make supper, and me to help her, and for us to stay here-"
"Alright," Johnny said, reaching back to pat her leg. "Settle down."
"I'm scared for Scott, though, Johnny," Charlie admitted. "That man-he's so big, and Scott looked as though he was going to
fight him, and Val said he wouldn't stop him if he did-"
"Scott can take care of himself," Johnny said. By the barn, Johnny stopped, and lowered Charlie to the ground. "What were you
doin'? Your chores?"
At Charlie's brief nod, he said, "Well, you go on and finish those, then. And, then, help Teresa like Murdoch said."
"Are you going?" Charlie asked, looking up, pleadingly.
Johnny appeared unruffled, but he said, "I don't think I need to, but I'll go on along, just to be sure. Alright?"
Charlie nodded, gratefully, and found she didn't have any words.
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When Charlie went back into the house, Teresa was sitting at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes, and the counters were
covered in flour and there was the smell of something delicious in the oven.
"Johnny's going to town," she announced.
Teresa looked up, appearing even more flustered. "Oh, Charlie, why did you tell him anything?"
"Why was that wrong to do?" Charlie demanded.
"Because it's not necessary for him to go-and because-" at this Teresa's voice trailed off, an she went back to peeling potatoes.
"Never mind," she said, with a sigh. "I'm sure it's fine."
Charlie stood still, feeling uncertain.
"Go and change your clothes," Teresa said.
Charlie cast a look down at her overalls. "I don't need to, though," she began, and was startled when Teresa laid the knife down
with a snap, and stood, holding the bowl of peeled potatoes to her waist.
"Charlie, for heaven's sake, will you just do as I ask-" Teresa began, in irritation.
Then both of them heard the noises. There was the sound of the heavy front door opening and then closing, and deep
male voices. One. Two.
Teresa and Charlie exchanged a look, one of mutual trepidation, but Charlie thought that she herself was surely more
nervous and worried than Teresa was. After all, no matter what Teresa said, she was grown, while she, Charlie was not-and
not one of the Lancer men was likely to be pleased about money having to be paid for pelts from animals she'd helped to escape. Or, not pleased
about anything at all to do with the situation. All the chaos and trouble...
Teresa set the bowl of potatoes down, and smoothed her apron. And then, Murdoch's strong voice rang out.
"Teresa!"
"Oh, Lord," Teresa said, and then started walking.
Charlie wished she could turn and run outside, but the thought of Scott, and if he was alright, made her follow along behind Teresa.
Murdoch, along with Scott and Johnny, were found in the library. Murdoch was pouring whisky into glasses, and Scott was seated
in the chair behind the desk. Johnny was standing to Scott's side, and was dabbing medicine onto Scott's face. The side of his face, below
his eye.
Charlie ran to the side of the chair that Johnny wasn't blocking.
In between Johnny cleaning and dabbing at his face, Charlie saw that Scott had a cut that was bleeding and gaping. His cheek was darkened as well.
"You're hurt!" Charlie said, feeling her heart pound.
"Just a cut," Scott said.
Teresa was standing there now, too. "You fought him?" she asked, sounding shocked.
Scott just looked at Teresa and didn't answer right off. Johnny looked somewhat amused and kept doctoring the cut. Murdoch
had finished pouring whiskey and came over to where the group stood, handing a glass to Johnny, and one to Scott.
"Thanks," Scott said.
Johnny downed his whiskey in one drink and set the glass down on the desk, and continued. Scott sipped at his.
Murdoch had poured himself a drink as well.
"What happened?" Teresa asked. "Did you get everything straightened out?"
"Everything's taken care of," Scott said.
"Except for your face," Teresa said, pointedly. "Scott, what were you thinking-"
"What were you thinking?" Scott countered. "Do you know what might have happened?"
"Not smart, Chica," Johnny tossed in.
Teresa drew herself up to her not considerable height, and said, "Well, I like that! I'm not the one who's sitting there
with my face all cut up-"
Scott sat up straighter and said, sounding harsh, "He could have done much worse to you, Teresa."
"Teresa was trying to help me and Monte!" Charlie braved herself to declare. "Nobody should be put out with her! That man was
shaking Monte hard!"
"That's enough from you, young lady," Scott said, and Charlie's huge brown eyes widened with hurt.
"Alright," Murdoch said, in a calming tone. "Let's all take a moment here. Sit down, darling," he said, to Teresa, ushering her to
the sofa.
Teresa by now looked as though she was near tears. That, coupled with the way that Scott had chided her made Charlie feel
as though she too, was nearing the same. Young lady, indeed.
Murdoch poured from the brandy decanter, and handed off a small glass to Teresa. Then he gave Teresa's shoulder a pat, something that
Charlie was glad to see.
Murdoch sat in the over sized leather chair, the one that Charlie and he could both sit in together when they were sketching.
"I think you're gonna live alright," Johnny said, to Scott, a teasing tone to his voice, as he finished putting a bandage over Scott's
cut. "You'll still be pretty."
"Good to know," Scott said, dryly.
"How about your hand?" Johnny was asking him. Scott gave his skinned hand a brief glance.
"It's fine," he said in dismissal.
Johnny closed the medical tin and then half-sat against the edge of the desk, facing them all.
The smell of something burning from the direction of the kitchen was rampant in the air.
"My pie!" Teresa said, and began to stand.
"I'll get it," Johnny said, waving a hand at Teresa as he left the room.
"Now you won't have any dessert," Teresa said, and covered her face with her hands.
Murdoch went to sit beside Teresa on the sofa, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
"No need to take on this way," he told her.
"I know," Teresa said, around her fingers, still sounding weepy.
Murdoch began to talk softly to Teresa, and Charlie turned to look at Scott when he spoke her name.
"Come here," Scott said.
Charlie went to him, and for a long moment stood in front of him, with the both of them looking at the other, very seriously.
Scott's face softened, and he didn't look so stern. He held out his hands.
"Want to sit with me?" he asked, quietly, and Charlie bobbed her head, feeling so glad he was asking.
"Alright, come here," he said, and pulled her up onto his lap.
"Did he want a lot of money?" Charlie asked him, barely audible. "That man?"
"Don't worry about that right now."
Charlie picked up his hand, the hand that was skinned raw and red.
"He hurt you," she said, again near a whisper.
As she held his hand, peering over it worriedly, Scott said, "That? That's nothin'."
From Scott, whose command of the English language was always, always proper and correct, Charlie recognized that his
comment was meant to poke fun, and lighten her worry.
Charlie felt overcome with emotion, and clasped his hand and held it to her cheek.
"You stood up for me," she said, looking at Scott with something akin to awe. "You called me your kid, to that man."
Scott's eyes met hers, and there was a smile in those eyes.
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