Frederik spread out a blanket while Maureen unpacked a picnic lunch of elk sausage, biscuits, and huckleberry pie. The day was a double celebration—Maureen's sixteenth birthday and two years exactly since the September day they'd first met.

They'd walked a long time to get to this spot by a huge old ponderosa, but it commanded a view into the autumn valley that was better for the effort of reaching it.

Taking a bite of sausage, Frederik said, "This is good. Did you make it?"

Maureen nodded. "And I put up the huckleberries, too. I've done all the cooking since ... for a long time."

A distance karoom rocked the air, followed by a pair of smaller shocks. "That must be Pa and Augie working at the mine," Maureen said. "It's all Pa can think about these days, especially now the government's saying we don't even own our place on the creek."

Frederik turned to look at her "It's not right that you have to do all the work that gets done there."

"I don't mind," Maureen answered, and then rushed her next words. "I know what people in town say about us. About my mother because she ran off the way she did, and about my father because they think his bad temper was what made her leave. But he didn't used to be angry all the time, and I remember her teaching me nice things."

"Like what?" Frederik asked. "Besides how to cook?"

"Oh ... like how to make things pretty. I just finished making a candleholder—just a tin can, but I punched a pattern of holes in it the way my mother showed me. It shines so nice when a candle's lit inside!"

She bit her lip and then seemed to come to a decision. "Pa and Augie are staying at the mine tonight, so if you'd like to go back with me to our place later on, I can show you."

THE CANDLE FLICKERING in the punched can did make a pretty picture for Frederik and Maureen to look at while they ate. They finished supper—more elk sausage and the end of the pie—and then a quiet fell between them as they faced each other across the table.

It seemed strange to Frederik to be here with Maureen—this was the first time that he'd actually been inside her house. The feet of being here, though, wasn't enough to account for the hot and cold feelings running through him.

"Maureen," he began, hardly knowing how he intended to continue. The door being thrown open interrupted him.

Frederik recognized Maureen's brother against the backlight in the instant before Augie lunged at him, and then the two of them were fighting and Maureen was screaming at them to stop. The fight lasted only briefly, until one of Frederik's fists cracked against Augie's jaw and flung him reeling backward.

Augie doubled over and vomited until dry heaves racked him. Then with thick, half-formed words he ordered Maureen to get her things.

Frederik wondered if he'd broken Augie's jaw.

Maureen, sounding fearful, said, "Augie, I don't want to go to the mine. Pa's going to be..." She got a towel, and while she cleaned her brother's face, she kept pleading "Augie, please?"

"What you say ... between you and Pa," Augie finally told her "We'll wait till morning, but you're going And you get him out now."

Maureen rinsed the towel in a basin and hung it to dry before turning to Frederik. Her eyes asked a question.

She wants me to decide for her, Frederik thought, suddenly frightened in a way he hadn't been in those moments he'd fought with Augie. If I want her to, Maureen will walk out of here with me now; will do what I tell her to do.

"Maureen," he said awkwardly, "we're not ... I'm not..."

Her voice didn't waver when she said, "Then thank you for a lovely day. I apologize for its ending."