Montana Bride by Joan Johnston

caused it, she would be able to end it. She turned to Grace and demanded, “What happened? Why are they fighting?”
    Between sobs, Grace said, “Mr. Campbell hit Griffin.”
    Hetty’s mouth fell open. “Why on earth would he do such a thing?” When Grace didn’t answer, she turned to Griffin and asked, “What happened, Griffin?”
    “It was an accident!” Griffin protested.
    “What was?” Hetty demanded.
    Griffin snarled, “What happened!”
    Frustrated that she didn’t know any more than she had before she’d started questioning Griffin, Hetty turned to Grace and asked, “Did you see what happened?”
    “A stone from Griffin’s slingshot hit Mr. Campbell’s horse and made him buck and Mr. Campbell fell off and his horse ran away,” Grace said all in one breath.
    “Oh, Griffin, no!” Hetty cried. “Where did you get a slingshot?”
    “I made it.”
    “Give it to me,” Hetty said.
    Griffin pulled the wooden slingshot out of his belt and smacked it into her waiting hand, but his chin took on a brash tilt as he said, “Nobody slaps me. Not for nothin’!”
    Hetty’s breath caught in her throat. “Dennis must have been sorely provoked. What else did you do?”
    Griffin shot her a look of betrayal. “I should have known you’d take his side.”
    Grace interceded to say, “Mr. Campbell grabbed a handful of Griffin’s coat—”
    “So I kicked the son of a bitch in the shin!” Griffin finished.
    “Karl arrived in the nick of time,” Grace sobbed. “That son of a bitch would have choked Griffin senseless for sure!”
    Hetty opened her mouth to complain about the children’s use of that ugly term to describe Dennis Campbell and shut it again. Dennis was a grown man. He should know better than to attack a child, no matter what the provocation.
    She turned back to the two snarling and grunting men wrestling on the ground, wondering how she could break up the furious fight without coming to serious harm herself.
    Suddenly, Bao doused the two men with an entire bucket of icy water. They broke apart and came up spluttering and swearing.
    Both men rose like shaggy, lumbering bears, turning to threaten Bao, who dropped the bucket, crossed his arms inside his wide sleeves, and said, “Confucius say: ‘Without feelings of respect, what is there to distinguish men from beasts’?”
    The two men stared at the Chinaman with jaws agape.
    Hetty seized the opportunity to step between them. Since Karl was on top when the water got dumped, he’d gotten soaked. Water dripped from his hair and spiked his eyelashes. She put her hands on his wet coat, her back to Dennis, and said, “Enough. That’s enough, Karl. Dennis is your best friend. You’ve done enough to punish him for a slap.” She didn’t mention the apparent attempt to choke Griffin, since that was likely to enrage Karl all over again.
    Then she turned around, keeping herself between the two men, and said, “Enough, Dennis. This is no way for best friends to treat each other. Griffin is sorry. It was an accident.”
    “Like hell it was! That brat spooked my horse on purpose.”
    “Did not!” Griffin retorted.
    Hetty turned to Griffin and said, “You’d better get moving if you’re going to find Mr. Campbell’s horse before dark.”
    “Me?” Griffin glanced at the surrounding wilderness with a look of trepidation, and Hetty almost changed her mind about sending him out to recover the horse. But she knew if there were no consequences for Griffin’s behavior, it would only get worse.
    She pointed west and said, “Get moving.”
    “I’ll go with him,” Grace offered.
    Hetty almost stopped her, but it would be safer for the two children to be together. “Fine. We’ll camp right here. Be sure you’re both back before dark, whether you find Mr. Campbell’s horse or not.”
    “You’d damn well better find him,” Dennis said.
    “I told you to watch your language,” Karl warned, swiping at a cut on his cheek with the back of his hand