She was definitely not ready for that again so soon, but it was hardly a prospect that filled her with horror. Perhaps her and Dag’s future children, if any, wouldn’t be saddled with being so blasted short—now, there was a heartening thought. She smiled softly to herself as Grace nudged her velvety nose into her hand and whuffled.

Rush went on, “He as much as said it was his plan to keep you till you were and then send you back to batten on us.”

“Only if he dies, Rush!”

“Yeah, well, how much longer can that be?”

“And what does it matter to you anyhow? You and Reed are going to go west and break land. You won’t even be here.” She let herself out of the stall and latched the door.

“On Fletch and Clover, then.”

“You two are so, so, so”—she groped for a sufficient word—“howling stupid.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rush shot back. “He claimed he wanted to marry you because you were smart, and how dumb do you have to be to believe that? You know it’s just so’s he can get his old hands on your young…self.”

“Hand,” she corrected coldly. And how she missed its touch on her young…everything. Escape from West Blue, with or without a wedding, could not happen soon enough.

Rush imitated upchucking, with realistic noises. Fawn supposed stabbing him with the pitchfork was out, but maybe she could at least whack him over the head with it…? He added, “And how d’you think we’ll feel in front of our friends, stuck with that fellow in the family?”

“Considering your friends, I can’t say as I’m real moved by that plea.”

“I can’t see as you’ve much considered anybody but yourself, lately!”

Reed said, more urgently and with a peculiar fearful tinge in his voice, “I see what it is. He’s magicked you up some way already, hasn’t he?”

“I don’t want to hear another word out of you two.”

“Or what?” said Rush. “You’ll never speak to us again?”

“I’m working on that one,” snarled Fawn, and stalked out of the barn.

Not all of the encounters were so aggravating. Fawn found an unexpected ally in Clover, with whom she’d never before much gotten along, and Clover brought Fletch right into line. The two girls were now in great charity with each other, feeling they could have been best friends forever and mistaken in all their prior judgments; Fletch was a bit dizzied. Dag made undaunted use of the news about his age to put himself rather above it all, and he mainly talked privately with Mama and Papa or Nattie. Whit continued to fire off barbs in blithe disregard for their aim, with the result that everybody grew furious with him except for Dag, who continued patient and determined.