The Waltons 1 by Robert Weverka

bent forward and sighted along the smooth edge of the timber. It was obvious he had no idea what she was talking about.
    “John-Boy and Jenny went up to the mountain alone. I tried to get them to take some of the other children, but they’re too busy with their tadpoles.”
    John glanced over at the children. “Yep. Looks like we’re goin’ to have a backyard full of mudholes all summer.”
    “John?”
    “What’s the matter, Livvy?”
    His sudden grin revealed that he knew exactly what she was talking about. Olivia stood perfectly still as he put an arm around her, kissed her lightly on the back of the neck, and moved to the far end of the timber.
    “Yep,” he said, “I guess I could follow ’em up the mountain and make sure nothin’ happens. That wouldn’t be too much trouble. Then I can follow ’em around all day tomorrow. And I can follow John-Boy out there to the Baldwins’ and make sure he don’t touch any of that whiskey.” He grinned. “Or, better yet, we could lock John-Boy up till he’s twenty-one. Come to think of it, maybe that’s what my daddy should have done when I first met you, Livvy.”
    Olivia couldn’t help smiling. John was right; at some time or another a few risks had to be taken. But she still ached for reassurance. “Do you really think it’ll be all right?”
    “I don’t know. That Jenny Pendleton is a city girl, and from what I hear they’re pretty fast. I sure hope she don’t take advantage of one of us country folk.”
    “John, I do wish you’d be serious sometimes.”
    He came toward her, grinning. “Sometimes I’m so serious, Livvy, I can’t stand it.” He squeezed her hard and kissed her on the mouth. Olivia didn’t resist and he kissed her four or five times before he let her go.
    As she straightened her dress and headed back to the house, Olivia felt some measure of reassurance. In his crazy way, John always seemed more sensible about things like this. Then, as she opened the screen door, she glanced over at the mudhole and felt herself flush deeply. The children were all staring at her, every one of them wearing a silly grin on his face.
    To John-Boy, the chance of anything terrible happening with Jenny seemed extremely remote as they walked along the road. She kept well away from him, and her eyes flitted from trees and wild flowers to clouds and distant houses—everywhere but to him. All this was accompanied by a steady stream of chatter that John-Boy responded to with nods and murmurs of assent.
    “You’re very quiet today, John-Boy,” she finally said as they started up the side of the mountain.
    “I’m not gettin’ much chance to say anythin’.”
    She smiled coolly to that. “Yes, I guess I do talk too much, don’t I.”
    “I wanted to explain why I didn’t come over last night. And tell you I’m sorry.”
    “You don’t have to explain,” she shrugged. “In fact I really didn’t expect you at all.”
    “But I—”
    She suddenly scampered up a steep slope and broke into a run. “I’ll bet I can beat you to the top,” she called, and was gone, loping off into the forest.
    John-Boy stood perfectly still for a minute, watching her. The first spring needles were coming out at the tips of the pine branches, and the new green oak leaves were brilliantly transparent in the dappled sunlight. John-Boy watched Jenny duck under branches and then disappear among the thickening trees. He knew she could not keep up that pace for long, and he moved slowly and steadily up the slope.
    Five minutes later he was startled by a voice from the side and behind him.
    “What’s your hurry?”
    It was Jenny. She was sitting on a shaded rock, her chin cupped in her hands and breathing heavily.
    “It’s only a half mile more,” he smiled.
    “Why didn’t you tell me it was so far. Go on ahead if you want.”
    “No, I’d rather go with you.”
    She smiled, but quickly controlled it, looking off at the top of the mountain. “All right, let’s