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My next part:

I watched as the boy called Percy rode off into the snow. I shook my head. He’d probably end up as a frozen popsicle with several bullet-holes. I turned to the two girls in our cabin instead. I didn’t really look at them, but at the wolfhound. I had had a very unpleasant wolf experience that spring, when one tried to get into the lambing pens. Cicero hadn’t been much help. He just ran circles around it snarling. I guess it did enough to confuse the beast until Pa could get out there with a gun, but I hate to think of what might have happened if he hadn’t gotten there sooner.

The reason Cicero had done anything at all was because I was there. If I hadn’t been, he would’ve made a bee-line for the house. Cheetahs don’t fight. They run. But that doesn’t mean they’re wimps. Cheetahs are smart, and hunt when other predators aren’t around to steal their kill, and they will drag their food miles to avoid an encounter. But they know when they can’t win. Cicero only puts on a show when he gets in a fighting stance and shows his teeth. I was keeping a close eye on that wolf-hound, but the girl was holding his rope leash so tightly her knuckles were white.

We sat down to lunch, and Pa and Hutch came in. They stared and blinked at the girls until Ma said, “sit down, for goodness’ sake! They won’t bite!”

Hutch sat next to me, muttering something about why some boys couldn’t drop by more often. Pa just raised his eyebrows and guzzled his coffee. We said grace, and I smiled at the girl next to me. She had reddish-brown hair and freckles. The other girl looked a little nervous; maybe part of it was because she was sitting next to Pa. I suppressed a giggle. Pa wasn’t the neatest eater.

I slipped a slice of cold bacon down to Cicero, who undoubtedly was making faces at the wolf-hound from under the table. I poked his rump to remind him of his manners.

After lunch, Ma got up to clear the table and I rose to help her, but she waved a hand in the air. “No, sweetie. Why don’t you tend to our guests?” I nodded, glad not to have dish duty. Then I out-right laughed when I saw the look on Hutch’s face that meant he was going to do the dishes.

I turned to the two girls. “Um,” I said. “You look cold.”

I need to work on my social skills.