Arabella chewed her lip and stared straight ahead as she let the little donkey, Janella, pull the buggy steadily along at top speed. She couldn’t go slow, or turn around to see if Charlie was coming or not, that would completely spoil her little game. So they trotted on and a combination of fear and excitement began to build within her: fear of a dramatic encounter with savage, half naked Indian braves on the road, or being stripped of her, ahem,  possessions by a despicable handsome highwayman. Needless to say, these were the very same fantasies which added some lurid excitement to the situation, too.

She needn’t have worried (or got excited); pretty soon she heard the clip clop of Charlie’s horse approaching, and muttered “Good boy!” under her breath with smug self-satisfaction over her ability to read men like a book and manipulate them to her childish whims, just like them  femme fatale ladies did in romantical novellas.

“Why, Mr Wentworth, fancy meeting you here!” she smiled innocently, not even turning to look at him “What brings you here this fine Spring Mornin’? Bridget and me here’s just off to Church.”

If you had sat the girl down and asked her why she was doing all this, she would have been completely unable to answer: she was just a natural tease and a flirt was all, and when all was said and done, she did it without any particular aim in mind. As a plain, skinny 15 year old, the hobby wasn’t a particularly destructive one, but in a year or two, when the ugly duckling had blossomed into something of a local beauty, then the trouble would come in spades, shots would be fired and blood would no doubt be spilled.

But for now, it was nothing but innocent fun: all at Charlie’s expense, of course.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at Arabella's greeting. He wasn't buying any of it and stared down at her as he rode alongside. "Look here, before you go thinking that I'm back here because I want to be, I'm not. I just wouldn't be able to live with the talking to I would get from my Pa, if I let you two go ahead on your own. Besides, if something we're to happen and I wasn't there to stop it, I can kiss all of this good-bye as I'd be sent packing back to college."

As he waited for Arabella's response, he turned his attention to the road ahead. There was no way he was going to tell her that if she and Bridget were to get in trouble, he would feel guilty and ashamed knowing that he could have prevented it. Now was the time to start acting like an adult and part of that was doing things he didn't like with people he didn't like. Arabella was slowly beginning to grate on his nerves. He would probably like her if it weren't for that all that manipulating she seemed to be fond of doing, having seen some of it last night and again today. As for Miss Bridget, he felt sorry for her in a way that she would always be a follower and not a leader. Whoever or whatever made her so timid had a lot of answering to do.

"Look here, before you go thinking that I'm back here because I want to be, I'm not.”

“Well, that’s telling us!” Arabella nodded. “So why are you back?”

“I just wouldn't be able to live the talking to I would get from my Pa, if I let you two go ahead on your own.” 

Mention of Charlie’s Pa got Arabella excited and she shook Bridget’s shoulder, as if she had been asleep and needed waking up.

“Hey, Bridg’ do you know who Charlie’s Daddy is? Your nice Mr. Wentworth at the bank!”

Bridget opened her mouth in surprise and ducked her head around the other girl to look at the young man on the horse with new eyes. Eventually, Arabella gently pushed her back into her seat with a laughing admonition. “All right, that’s enough, it’s rude to stare.”

She turned to Charlie and explained, her jibing tone lost in a snap as her predilection for just plain jawing came into play. “See, Bridg’ found a penny on the sidewalk one day and took it in to the bank, cause I’d told her that’s where folks put their money. Anyhow, she was right serious about only giving it to the feller as owns the bank: that bein’ your good old pop. You with me so far?” she asked.

“And he took it right off her, and every time she finds a penny or a nickel in the dirt, she takes it right on in there and if your Pa’s there, he takes it right on off of her with all the kindliness and courtesy in the world. And if he ain’t there, them clerks and tellers can’t wrestle that penny from her grip to save their lives, can they Bridg’?”

Miss Monahan shook her head vigorously.

“An’ I even gave her a penny onest, so I could go with her and see this fernominom, and the second time your Daddy was there and, oh Charlie, he is such a wonderful and kindly old gentleman, he was so nice and gentle with her, what with her bein’ simple an’ all, why, it was a joy to see.” She smiled off into the distance at the memory of it.

“So that’s probably why you came back to protect us, you can’t help inheritin’ your Pa’s kindly ways” she philosophized.

“Besides, if something we're to happen and I wasn't there to stop it, I can kiss all of this good-bye as I would be sent packing back to college."

“College?!” yelped Arabella, loud enough to make Janella bray in alarm.

“You was in college?! Well what you doing out here moving cows around and escortin’ annoying girls to church, y'darn loon? Why ain’t you back in college. Oh, Charlie, what a wasted opportunity!! Why, if you go to college you could be anything: a doctor or a lawyer or a … a candy shop owner! Anything!”

Coming from a dirt poor background where education was a privilege out of the reach of all her peers, her brow was genuinely wrinkled in a frown as to why anyone would pass up such a chance in life.

Charlie stared at the road ahead as he listened to Arabella tell him about Bridget's encounters with his father.  Part of him found it interesting to hear that Arabella thought he was inheriting his Pa's way...if only she knew.  While it was true that his father had mellowed throughout the years, he was still a force to be reckon with.  Pa had been a lot more tougher with his older brothers than with him.  His father had explained that he had wanted the best for his sons and somehow that got confused with what he wanted.  The death of his father's old friend in Washington had changed the way his father looked at things, which in Charlie's opinion was for the better.

At Arabella's astonished exclamation that he had been in college, he nodded.

“You was in college?! Well what you doing out here moving cows around and escortin’ annoying girls to church, y'darn loon? Why ain’t you back in college. Oh, Charlie, what a wasted opportunity!! Why, if you go to college you could be anything: a doctor or a lawyer or a … a candy shop owner! Anything!”

"I can be anything I want to be now.  Some people like have a job where they are cooped up in a stuffy building all day but not me.  I like wide open spaces and being able to choose my own way in life.  Maybe one day I'll go back to studying but today ain't that day."

"I can be anything I want to be now.”

“Well you can’t be a doctor or a lawyer.” She murmured to herself, but that was lost to the clip clop of Janella’s hooves.

“Some people like have a job where they are cooped up in a stuffy building all day but not me.  I like wide open spaces and being able to choose my own way in life.”

 “Well it don’t get more open than this!” Arabella nodded toward the countryside around them. It was as flat as a pancake all the way up to those big, grey, foreboding mountains: granite and grim. She had grown up on a mountain, but that was a nice, tree covered, verdant friendly place. Those cold, cold stacks of rock didn’t look friendly at all, and they made the plain look flatter than an ironing board.

“So you gonna be a cowhand forever and die in the saddle!” she concluded.

“Maybe one day I'll go back to studying but today ain't that day."

Arabella shrugged. “Or maybe you’ll fall into this holy lake we’re goin’ to and become a Saint, you might decide to ‘forgo the pleasures of the flesh’ like that Saint Francis the Sissy!” She didn’t know where she’d heard that phrase, but she liked sound of the ‘pleasures of the flesh’ part.

“You’ll become Saint Charles of the Lake and talk to the animals and never kiss another girl again!” she declared, drifting, as she was wont to do, into the realms of phantasy.