After church was over, everybody was standing outside, visiting together. After the evening before, and Adam's reaction, I was almost wary of asking

to ride home with Guthrie and Kristen. Still, when the three of us wandered to Adam and Hannah's side, as they were talking with some

neighboring ranchers, and I asked Adam quietly if I could ride with Guthrie, he only nodded and said, "We'll see you all at home in a bit."

"Would you stir the stew in the crockpots?" Hannah asked me.

I said I would, and we made our escape.

"Finally," Guthrie said, letting out a long breath. "It was gettin' hot in there."

I joked with Guthrie about how Mrs. Thompson, an older lady in our church, had caught Guthrie after services and talked his ear off

about needing her shrubs trimmed and her flower beds weeded.

"I'll probably go over there later this afternoon and help her out," Guthrie said.

"That's so nice of you," Kristen told him.

Guthrie shrugged. "She's kind of all alone. Her kids don't visit much."

After we'd piled into Guthrie's truck, and headed towards home, conversation turned to Kristen's home life.

Kristen brought it up at first, turning to me. "Guthrie said he told you about my mom. About her not having a job."

I nodded. "Yeah. He did. Is that okay?"

"It's okay, but I don't want Adam or Hannah or anybody else to know."

I felt a quick prick of guilt. I'd already told Crane earlier...

I wondered whether I should come clean and tell Kristen right that moment, or just wait. Crane had already said he wouldn't say

anything, to anybody else, or to Kristen herself, about knowing what he knew.

"Maybe she'll get a job soon," I said, trying to sound encouraging.

"Maybe," Kristen said, not sounding very positive. Then she pushed her hair back, and said, "Let's not talk about it. Let's just have

fun today. I'm excited to be with the family."

"Everybody's excited to have you over, too," I said.

"It will be so nice to be around people who get along, and don't bicker and scream at each other," Kristen said with a sigh.

I thought of the sometimes tension that did float thru our home, I mean our family sure wasn't perfect, but I guess to Kristen

we looked as though we were sometimes.

Once at home I told Kristen she could borrow something of mine to wear that would be more comfortable to the creek. She headed upstairs to

find something, and I went to stir the stew that filled two large crock pots, like I'd told Hannah I would. The smell of it filled the air.

Guthrie wandered into the kitchen, having already changed from his church clothes to worn jeans and a Waylon Jennings t-shirt.

"I'm starved," he said, going to the refrigerator, and opening it, poking his head in and rooting thru stuff on the shelves.

"We're gonna be eating in just a few minutes," I told him.

"Thanks, 'Hannah'," Guthrie said, pulling out a piece of ham and closing the refrigerator.

I stuck out my tongue at him, as he began stuffing the ham into his mouth.

Kristen reappeared, wearing a pair of my jean shorts and a yellow t-shirt.

I left them and went to change my own clothes. I did that, and as the family began arriving home, noise filled the house. Lunch was

rowdy and full of conversation and laughter. Evan and Nancy showed up as we were mid-way thru the meal, and chairs were scooted over

to make room for them at the table. Afterwards, Hannah packed a bag full of food, and handed it off to Guthrie.

"There's a thermos of water and a few Cokes," she said.

"Cookies?" Guthrie asked, hopeful.

"Of course," Hannah said, patting his cheek.

We rode for over an hour, and I felt better than I had for the whole entire last week. Things always look better to me when I'm on the back of

Old Charlie.

We rode, and we galloped, and then we took a long way back to the creek, where we tied the horses to a tree branch, and watered them,

holding water in our palms.

We had our picnic, and though Kristen and I ate plenty, Guthrie gobbled up his share and then ate what was left over.

We went out in Ford's battered old boat, and surprisingly, were able to take it for a real ride, without any leaking.

As Guthrie drug it back up onto the creek bank, he said, "Gonna have to let Ford know that whatever he used last time worked to

fix that leak."

I was sorry to have the afternoon come to an end. Kristen said she thought she should get home, even though Guthrie and I both

encouraged her to stay for supper. Hannah, too, coaxed Kristen to stay longer.

"I don't like to leave my mom for long," Kristen said, in explanation, and Hannah nodded, and said no more.

Crane spent a few minutes, talking quietly to Kristen alone, in the front yard. Kristen was listening, and nodding occasionally, and I

wondered just what he was saying to her. Whatever he had said, must have made her feel somewhat better, because when she was leaving

with Guthrie, she hugged me tightly, and said, "It was the best day, Harlie."

I sat on the front steps for awhile after they left, with Fat Clarence sprawled across my lap.

Brian came out after a bit, the screen door flapping closed behind him.

He sat down beside me on the top step, holding a glass of iced tea in one hand.

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and then I said, "Kristen can't even have a real life because of her family."

"It seems like she got a raw deal," Brian said.

"Her mom doesn't do the right things. She doesn't take good care of Kristen."

"All you can do is be a good friend to her."

"That's not enough, though," I said.

"It'll have to be."

I sighed and we were quiet again for a bit. Brian tapped my leg with his hand.

"Are you on the road now to get your school stuff back in order?"

I was surprised by his question. Usually Brian stays out of school stuff for the most part.

"I'm trying," I said.

"You got to do more than just try," he said.

"Bri-" I began, and then paused, sighing.

"What?"

I sighed again, not responding, and he tapped my leg again. Harder this time.

"What, Harlie?" he asked, sounding intent.

"I just thought you came out here to talk to me."

"I did."

"I mean-talk regular, not jump on the Lecture Wagon that everybody else around here is on," I said.

Brian gave a low whistle, and I knew he was getting ready to jump on me.

I twisted to face him. "I'm not trying to be disrespectful," I told him.

"You pretty much are," Brian said, in disagreement.

I met Brian's eyes and willed him silently to be understanding.

Impulsively, I hooked my arm thru his. It was a gamble on my part. I'd already succeeded in irritating him. To move closer after

'poking the bear' might not work.

"I'm sorry," I said, contritely. "I am trying to do better."

Brian was silent, looking stern and unmoved by my apology. On a positive note, he wasn't trying to dislodge me from his side, or pull

his arm free.

I looked away from his gaze, leaned my cheek against his arm, squeezing his arm more, and Fat Clarence struggled thru his chubbiness to get off of my lap.

"Sorry for being rude," I added, and I guess Brian heard my sincerity, because he relaxed a bit. I could feel it, thru the muscles in his arm, even

though I couldn't see his expression.

"How about you get back to working on cleaning the shed before supper?" Brian said.

I raised my head to look at him again. I could tell it wasn't a suggestion on his part.

"Okay," I said. I turned loose of his arm, and stood up, rubbing my hands on my shorts. "Might as well stay busy. Right?" I added, lightly.

"Right," Brian responded, dryly, still giving me a stern eye.

7

I stayed busy until supper time, cleaning that darn shed. I had a massive pile of trash. Empty or partially empty feed sacks. There was

a t-shirt that somebody must have stripped off and left there, and even a coffee cup. By the time somebody hollered for me to come

in for supper, I was nearly finished.

I washed up and slid into my chair at the table. It was a smaller group. Only Guthrie and I, Hannah and Adam, and Brian and Clare.

Clare had made baked chicken and there was some of Hannah's homemade rolls, and salad.

As tired as I was at bedtime, I still had trouble getting to sleep. Thoughts of the next day at school kept running thru my mind. It was

not going to be easy, and I was dreading the questions of other people. I laid there so long, without sleeping, that I got up to go back down

to the kitchen and take a couple of tylenol from the cabinet.

It was while I was pouring some milk in order to swallow the medicine, that Adam came into the kitchen.

"Thought I heard somebody in here," he said.

"Just me," I said, returning the milk jug to the refrigerator.

"You alright?"

"Headache," I said, holding up my hand with the Tylenol in it.

Adam went to pull down a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water.

"Did you do your shot?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said. I felt miserable. It wasn't the headache so much as it was just everything.

Adam came over to where I stood, and said, "Sit down for a minute."

I sat at the table, the glass of milk in front of me, wondering what he was going to say.

"Go ahead and take your tylenol," he said, and I swallowed the two pills, looking up at him, as I set the glass back down again.

Adam stepped behind me, and put his hands on my shoulders, massaging them. He worked his hands up from my shoulders, to the

base of my neck. I was surprised into silence.

Adam was quiet, too, and under the gentleness of his hands, I felt myself begin to relax a bit. I let out a sigh.

"Any better?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Way better," I said.

"Okay. Good," Adam said, and patted my shoulder, before sitting down in the chair beside me, drinking his glass of water.

We sat in quiet for a few more minutes while I finished my glass of milk.

"You need to try to get to sleep," he said.

"Okay," I said, and we both stood up, putting our glasses in the sink.

At the bottom of the back stairs, he stopped me, and put a hand on my cheek, running his thumb against my chin.

"The only way out is through," he said. "Robert Frost."

I nodded, and met his eyes. I didn't whine or say anything to complain then because I knew he wouldn't want to hear it. He believed

I'd brought this on to myself, and that it was up to me to deal with the aftermath.

"Robert Frost, huh?" I said, lightly.

"Yeah." He pulled me forward, and kissed the top of my head. "Good night, sugar."

7