Summary: Marie and Ben’s attendance at a funeral in town leaves Adam at the Ponderosa to watch six-year-old Hoss, and seven-month-old Little Joe. The day of babysitting gets started with only minor difficulties, but takes a frightening turn as a late-season thunder storm hits the area, trapping the parents in town overnight, and making the boys rely on all that they’ve learned to get by alone.

Rating: K   Word Count: 12,862

 

A Rainy Day Tale

One

“I’m not sure we should do this,” Marie said again as she put their sleeping baby in his bed.

Ben walked over to embrace her, and spoke quietly so as not to disturb their seven-month-old son. “The boys will be fine without us for a few hours.”

“A few hours is a long time, Ben,” Marie countered, flashing him a worried look. “Anything can happen in a few hours, and what if it goes on longer than that?”

“Adam took care of Hoss for long periods of time, Marie, and that was when he was only as old as Hoss is now.”

Marie pouted, “But our little Joseph…will Adam know what to do if he cries or…”

“Yes, darling,” he soothed even as he cut in to stop her anxiety from building further. “He knows what to do. You’ve fed Joe, changed him and rocked him to sleep. He usually sleeps for a few hours this time of day anyway, so he’ll probably just be waking up when we get back. Besides, he’s not a new infant. He’s sitting up and nearly crawling” Ben could see Marie’s concern lingering in the deep lines that wrinkled her forehead when she was uncertain. “Honey,” he said with an urgent edge, “Will is expecting me to say a few words at his wife’s grave in an hour, and I don’t want to be late.  He’s been very good to us since taking over the store in town. He carried us all last winter, never asking for a penny when we got snowed in and lost several of our herd. I’m thankful we were able to sell a few head this summer to pay him back. And that’s not the only reason I want to be there.  I know how hard it is to lose a spouse, especially when you have children like Will does. Anne was a good woman, and I’m honored that Will asked me to do this.”

“I’m sure you know exactly what he’s going through right now. I’m sorry. This is important, and we’ll get moving.” She brushed his cheek with a soft kiss. “I wish we could take the boys with us.”

“Will wants today to be a quick ceremony to bury Anne, and it will go far more quickly if the children aren’t around.  He’ll have a proper memorial service when the traveling preacher comes through next month…if winter holds out that long.”

Marie fanned herself as she nodded. “It doesn’t seem like it’s this late in the season with the weather so warm and sticky the last few days. It feels like August instead of November.” She leaned into the cradle and cooed softly, “Goodbye my little one. You be a good baby for your brothers and I’ll see you as soon as I can.” After placing a kiss on his curly dark hair, she wiped a stray tear from her cheek, and squared her shoulders as she turned to face her husband. “I’m ready. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The couple found Hoss and Adam playing checkers when they got downstairs. “Who’s winning?” their father asked as he wrapped his arm around his oldest son’s shoulders.

“I am,” Hoss declared, before laughing. “But I think Adam’s lettin’ me. That’s okay though. I ain’t so good as he is and it’s the only way I can beat him.”

Adam snorted. “I’m not ‘lettin’ him win so much as he’s cheating. He keeps telling me to look at things and then moves pieces.”

Ben chuckled. He knew that Adam would never look away if he really wanted to win. He suspected he allowed the deception to keep Hoss from losing interest.  Yet he had no doubt that before the game was finished, Adam would play without ‘letting’ Hoss do anything outside the rules, and then explain why he was doing each of his moves to teach his younger brother how to play better and win without tricks.

“You two ready to go?” Adam asked.

“We have to get moving right now.” Ben became thoughtful for a moment. “Did you two cut some of those late-blooming flowers as I asked?”

“They’re in a jar of water in the wagon, Pa,” Hoss said proudly. “We wedged them into a box so they won’t spill on the way.”

Marie gave the youngster a peck on the cheek. “Thank you.” Giving Adam a serious look, she began her list of instructions. “Joseph might sleep the whole time, but if he doesn’t, you can just play with him. He’s dry, but there are diapers upstairs in case you need them. Put the dirty ones in the soaking bucket.  He’s full now and only eats about every six hours so he should be fine until we’re back.  If he seems hungry, you can try giving him water with a spoon to keep him satisfied until I’m home. He sits up now…and he can roll from place to place, so change him somewhere he can’t fall if you turn away or have to reach for something.”

Ben took her hand and led her to the door as she was still talking. “C’mon, darlin’. Joseph will be ten before we get out of here.” He sent Adam a wink over his shoulder. “Our son will do fine. He’s been around babies before, and he’s very resourceful.”

***

Ben had brought Marie to the Ponderosa a little over a year ago, and after a few misunderstandings, and getting used to being a family of four, things had run smoothly. Marie had been pregnant when she’d arrived at the ranch, but her symptoms had been mild enough for her to keep it a secret until she felt that Adam and Hoss were confident enough in their new family to welcome another child. In fact, Ben had remained so clueless about his wife’s condition that he only came to realize he was going to be a father again when Marie refused to ride a beautiful horse he’d chosen for her. He’d been confused and hurt at first, thinking it was the perfect gift for someone who liked to ride. Then he’d added up all that he’d seen over the last couple of months. Taken individually, they could have been an illness, a little weight gain, or some moodiness based on the complete upheaval of her life. Taken together, they pointed to something entirely different.

Joseph Francis had arrived in their room at the top of the stairs: the first Cartwright born on the Ponderosa. He was a small baby compared to his two older brothers, but he was strong and healthy, and with the way he was already trying to pull himself up on things, they figured he’d be walking by ten months.

The news of another child on the way had given Ben some sleepless nights. He’d prayed that all would go well this time, and his children would continue to have a mother.

It had upset him at first that Adam had said he didn’t need a “mother,” and called Marie by her name instead of by a maternal appellation. Father and son had knocked heads about it, but Ben had finally come to understand that it was his son’s loyalty to Elizabeth that disallowed his son from calling another woman, Mother, rather than disloyalty to Marie…or disobedience to his father. She and Adam had worked it out, and it did make sense considering that even at 13, he was taller than Marie, and the boy had always shouldered work and responsibility far beyond what was normal for a child his age. Ben had finally relaxed when he’d seen the two find their common ground and interests. His oldest son had strong opinions, and so did his wife, so the two didn’t always agree, but they were getting along fine. And sometimes, when Adam let his guard down, Ben had seen him accept a good deal of Marie’s “mothering.”

Hoss on the other hand, had completely accepted Marie into his heart, and had called her, Mama, from the first day he’d seen her standing in the doorway of their new house when they had arrived home from New Orleans. He thought his new mother was beautiful and perfect, and he’d do anything she asked of him—at least anything that didn’t involve washing up or straightening his room.

Two

Adam and Hoss stood at the door waving goodbye as Ben and Marie drove away and then returned to their game of checkers.

The younger boy gave a nervous laugh. “I ain’t never been alone out here without Mama and Pa close by before.”

“Are you scared?”

“Maybe a little. But they’s only gonna be gone a few hours, right?”

“That’ s right, Hoss. No need to worry. We’re Cartwrights and nothin’ scares us.” Adam winked at his younger brother and then looked back at the checker board. The pretending phase was over and the teaching part was about to begin. “Look at your last move, Hoss,” he said as he pointed to the black checker. “Now look at where my pieces are.”

The little boy looked at the board in deep concentration. “Uh oh,” he said softly.

Adam laughed. “Uh oh is right. My king can move either direction, and I can pretty much take every piece you have left on the board right now.” He saw Hoss’s frown and suggested, “How about I give you a do-over on that move and see if you can make a better play.”

After a few minutes of studying all the possibilities, Hoss moved a different checker and looked up to see Adam smiling. “Was that what you was thinkin’ I should do?” he asked.

“Yup! Now you’ve got me pinned back on my side and you can get your own king with your next turn.” He reached over and tousled the seven-year-old’s hair. “Isn’t it nice to really win, instead of using subterfuge?”

Hoss’s top lip curled up as he squinted. “What do you mean by that?”

“Using your brain to win, beats cheating.”

Their conversation was cut short as a wail drifted down the narrow stairway. Hoss paled at the noise. “I thought Mama said he’d sleep a long time.” He gave Adam a lopsided smile. “They can’t be that far down the road yet, you want me to run and get them back?”

The older boy shook his head. “We’re fine, Hoss. Babies never do what they’re expected to. If they’d told us he’d be awake soon, he’d have slept all day. But in this case, they thought he’d sleep, so he’s waking up.” He pushed back from the table and gathered their game pieces and board into a cloth bag and put them on a shelf were they belonged.

Hoss was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, hopping from foot to foot. “Hurry up; he sounds like he’s dyin’ up there.”

Adam leaned against the wall across from Hoss, putting his arm out to stop the boy from heading up. “Let’s give Joe a few minutes first. Marie doesn’t let him cry long, but she does wait to see if maybe he burps or something, and falls back to sleep. If we rush up right away, he’ll be awake for sure.”

When the screaming strengthened instead of quieting, Adam finally led the way up to Ben and Marie’s bedroom, and cracked open the door for a peek inside. The two boys were assailed by an odor so strong that Hoss gagged.

“I ain’t never smelled anything so bad in my life!” he giggled as he pinched his nose and continued on in a nasally twang, “have you, Adam?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t believe it. That’s just about the worst thing ever—even worse than skunk. Where’d you ever smell anythin’ badder?”

Adam grinned wryly. “You forget…I had to change your diapers, and this is nothing compared to what you used to do.”

“Oh…” Hoss’s cheek reddened, but as he thought about it he started to laugh. “So is that why Pa used to call me a ‘Little Stinker’?”

The oldest Cartwright didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when they made it to Little Joe’s crib and saw what awaited them. He was grateful that the crying stopped and Little Joe smiled and raised his arms when he saw his brothers standing over him. “Un uh,” Adam told the baby as he bent over to inspect the damage. “I’m not picking you up until I figure out what you did here, first.” The diaper hadn’t been a match for Little Joe’s efforts, allowing leakage of its odorous contents onto the boy’s gown, torso, legs and bedding.

The color in Hoss’s cheeks went white as he looked over at Adam in horror. “How’d he even do that? He’s so little, and there’s so…much.”

“The bigger question is how are we gonna clean this up.” Adam’s nose wrinkled as he considered their options. “You stay here and keep him occupied while I run down and get water ready. We’re going to have to soak him a bit to get that off, and it’s warm enough outside it’ll be easier to do it out there instead of carrying that messy water out to dump it when we’re done.”

Hoss nodded. “How do I do what you said…you know, keep him occupied?”

“Talk to him. Maybe shake his rattle.”

“What do I say to a baby?” he whined.

“They don’t care so much what you say; they just like hearing your voice.” Adam thought a moment. “Tell him one of Marie’s stories, or even about playing checkers or something.”

Adam headed back upstairs after taking some time to get water warmed for the bath, and a fire going under the laundry tub. He smiled as he heard Hoss explaining how to get a king after moving your checker across the board, and how “you never want to try cheatin’ with Adam, cuz he don’t take kindly to it.” He stopped outside the door to listen his brother continued, “But when you and me play, Little Joe, I’ll let you cheat at first ‘til you learn how to do it right.” When he walked in the room, he saw his youngest brother staring in rapt attention as he listened. He was surprised again at the assault of smells hanging like a sulfur fog, and moved to open the window, fanning the air until there was some exchange of fresh for foul.

He’d prepared two tubs outside: one for Joe, and one for the soiled clothes and bedding, so he didn’t bother trying to separate them now. He rolled everything towards the smelly baby, and lifted the entire bundle, holding it at arms-length as he went down the steps, out the door and around to the south side of the house where the sun was the warmest. When they reached the laundry tub, he held Little Joe under the arms and had Hoss strip the rest of the mess off, letting it fall into the soapy water to soak. The next dilemma was how to bathe Joe without fouling the bath water and having to start over.

Luckily the nightgown had a large enough neck that Hoss and Adam were able to slip it downwards instead of pulling it over his head. With nothing left to worry about but skin, Adam ordered, “Fill that jug, Hoss, and we’ll rinse him off first.”

Hoss’s deadly grimace was only disturbed by his frequent gagging as he tried to clean the worst of it. The whine returned as he suggested, “Why don’t you let me hold him and you do this part?”

Adam snarled, “Because he’s squirmy and you’d drop him. You’re just about finished anyway.”

The remainder of the bath was accomplished easily with Little Joe seeming to enjoy his second dip of the day. He splashed at the bubbles and had both older boys laughing at his antics.

Adam knew the cleanup efforts had taken a good amount of time, and he was already anticipating Marie’s return. He didn’t mind watching his brothers but he was pretty sure Little Joe was going to be hungry sooner-than-later with what he’d managed to accomplish since his mother had fed him, and the oldest Cartwright son had no way to fill in for that need.  Once the clean diaper and gown were in place, Adam had Hoss sit on a blanket and hold the baby while he finished washing out the linen and emptied the tubs.

An eerie sensation swept over him as he glanced at his little brothers and saw Hoss staring at the western horizon with a look of pure terror. He followed the boy’s line of sight and saw the approaching line of swirling green clouds, followed by a heaving thunderhead, the color of night.

The sun was still shining, but by Adam’s reckoning, the storm would hit soon. He sprang into action, grabbing Little Joe and ordering Hoss to follow him into the house. “Make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t,” he told his younger brother after putting Joe on the braided rug in front of the fire place. He hollered, “I have to get the stock into the barn. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” as he ran out the door.

 Three

Ben had practiced giving his eulogy on the wagon ride while Marie coached him. “Slow your delivery in that part, Ben,” she’d advised. “You’re making some significant points about the need to rely on friends at this sad time, and you want the others from town to know that you’re talking to them as well as to Will.  You might even mention them by name to emphasize how we’re becoming a community.”

There had been nothing more than a small trading post in the area bordering the foothills of the Sierras when Ben and his two sons had come to the area and started trapping and buying parcels of land. The post had been owned by a man named Slim, who’d kept the place running until Will Cass had come along and bought it, suggesting that the growing town might do better with a general mercantile. The change of hands had taken place about the time Ben and Marie had returned the previous year. With a decent store, a growing ranch in the area, and a few settlers deciding to stay put, the settlement had taken off…at least by modest standards.

Will and his wife had two children who were near ages as Adam and Hoss, so Anne’s death hadn’t left Will in such dire straits as Ben had found himself in when he’d become a widower with infants. But the owner of the Ponderosa knew that there were long, frightening days and nights ahead as Will tried to manage both his business and family. Ben also knew that he couldn’t have made it this far if not for the help and kindness shown by those he’d met during his journey west, and he intended that the Cartwrights would help the Cass family any way they could.

The burial began with Ben reading a few Bible passages, and once the pine box was lowered, he began to speak his prepared words. Marie had calmed down once they’d gotten a few miles from the house, and she seemed to have left her worry behind as she’d taken the Cass children under her wing while their father saw to the last details at the gravesite. But now as Ben spoke, he could see clouds of worry moving across his wife’s face again. At the point where she’d told him to slow down, she was now giving him her “make this fast” glare and he wondered what had changed. He couldn’t help noticing that her eyes were focused above him rather than at him, and he took a moment at the end of a sentence to glance over his shoulder. The approaching storm looming to the west had sprung out of nowhere, and was barreling in on them like a runaway wagon. At the same time those thoughts were registering, the first line of wind foretelling of the rain to follow, swirled the loose dirt from the grave making the attendees cough and rub at their eyes.

Ben ended his remarks quickly and recited the Lord’s Prayer before grabbing a shovel to fill in the hole before the storm hit. Will and the other two men there lent a hand while Marie headed the women and children back to the store.

She was standing in the doorway as Ben and the men rushed in, and pulled her husband aside. “We need to go home now!” she whispered sternly.

Ben shook his head and pulled her to him. “It will serve no purpose to go now. That storm is too close. It cooled off a lot with the first winds, and anytime that happens, it’s going to be a bad one. Those greenish clouds might even mean a tornado, although we don’t normally get them up here.”

“I remember seeing that one in the distance when we came across the plains,” she said, as she blinked back tears. “Ben,” she looked into his eyes. “The boys are out there alone.”

He pulled her close. “I know that. But we need to stay here until this blows over. We can’t outrun it, and getting caught in a twister or flooding creek won’t help the boys. This rain can turn those wagon ruts we follow into slippery chutes that might overturn the wagon if a wheel catches wrong on a downhill slide.” He tipped her face upward and met her forehead with his. “I promise that we will leave as soon as possible, and the boys will be fine. They’ll be safe in the house.”

“I suppose Adam’s been through this too,” she said with a pinched, angry look.

“He’s been through some serious storms.” He winked even as his hands trembled on Maries shoulders. “We can go from summer to winter in the blink of an eye out here. Adam’s experienced that, so he has some idea of what’s coming. More importantly, he’s got good instincts.”

A rolling clap of thunder seemed to announce the beginning of the hail that pelted the roof of the store, drowning out all conversation. Marie pulled her husband’s head down until she could holler in his ear. “I know he does, Mr. Cartwright, but he’s thirteen. I can’t imagine how he will handle this. Hoss won’t be much help and Little Joe cries when it thunders.”

When Ben saw Marie’s tears spilling onto her cheeks, and felt her first hiccupping sob against his chest, he felt compassion along with a taste of the same fear she was experiencing. But he walked her quickly to a quiet corner of the storeroom where he made her sit on a nail cask. “I know you fear for our children; I do too. I also know that you lost one child and you are probably terrified that you could lose another. But we just laid a man’s wife to rest; that’s what’s real. Your fears are coming from what you are imagining could happen, and we can’t do anything about that now. If you show your fear, the people out in that store will be afraid too, especially the Cass children. You’re a strong woman, Marie. I saw your strength in New Orleans, and on the trip west. I ask that you control your tears when we go back in there, and we’ll help Will get lunch served as he’d planned. My hands are going to shake and my knees will be a little weak until we get back home and make sure everything is all right, but we’ll do this together, and trust that God will keep his eye on those boys.”

She reached up to touch his cheek, and smiled weakly. “You’re right; I don’t like it, but you are right. Let’s go.”

Four

Adam was shivering when he flew through the back door with an armload of the laundry he’d done earlier. He set the bundle on the table and asked Hoss, “Is everything going all right in here?”

“Sure, but you’re done now and will be stayin’ inside, aren’t you?” Hoss’s voice held the telltale quiver of someone who was nearing panic. “Baby Joe ain’t doing so well with that thunder startin’ and I ain’t so positive what to do if he starts in to cryin’”

“You keep talking to him,” the older brother encouraged. “You did a really good job upstairs. Joe likes your voice, so tell him how to catch a fish and I’ll be in as soon as I get some wood.” The temperature outside was dropping rapidly as the storm arrived, and although the house was still warm from the days of humid weather, Adam knew it wouldn’t take long for the damp hot air to be replaced by damp chilly air. He’d managed to get their horses from the corral into the barn, even though the storm was spooking them. He’d also shooed the chickens into their coop and moved the other animals to the shelters in their pens and shut the doors. Luckily he’d helped his father chop and stack wood for the stove just yesterday, so all he had to do was carry it inside.

Hail began pelting him as he gathered the last armload, and ran for the house. He hollered, “Yow,” as a large chunk hit his head, just as he got to the door.

Hoss looked up; eyes wide with fear as the rocklike pellets started pummeling the house. “What’s that racket, Adam?” he asked warily while he watched his brother rub his head.

“Come and look.” Adam waited until Hoss was next to him. “It’s hail. We haven’t had anything like this in a few years.”

Hoss laughed nervously. “Why they’s almost the size of snowballs! I see you rubbin’ at your head; did one a them nail you?”

“Yup, and it hurts.” He steered Hoss from the door to close it. “Lay some of those logs in the fireplace while I go stoke the stove.” Adam found the rope Marie used to dry clothes in the house during the winter, and strung it across the kitchen using the hooks they’d put in to make it a simple process. After hanging Little Joe’s bedding, he joined his brothers by the fireplace to help him get the blaze going. “You did a good job putting those logs and kindling in, Hoss,” he said as he lit the match. “This should take off in no time.”

With his brothers’ attention on something other than him, Little Joe managed to roll himself to the table before he was noticed.

“Whoa there, little dogie,” Adam laughed as he picked him up and carried him over to the window to watch the weather. “Look at this Hoss.” He pointed to the yard. “The hail is so thick in some spots it looks like we had snow.” The pounding on the roof stopped as quickly as it started, and Adam opened the door to see what was going on.

“It’s scary out here,” the middle brother whispered as the three of them stepped out into the yard. “Why’s it look like that, Adam?”

The sky was a greenish gray, and cast a similar hue on the world below. There was no wind; no rain—just silence. Adam swallowed hard as he remembered a similar looking sky once when they were traveling in the wagon train. It had been a harbinger of the severe weather that had followed. He’d never seen a tornado in this part of the country, but there was no reason there couldn’t be one. His fear had been kept at bay while he’d been working, but now, the full weight of their situation hit him. He raced through the memories of what they’d done during that previous storm, and began planning what he’d do if the worst did happen. He was encouraged when he walked farther into the yard and noted that the clouds were moving west to east rather than in a circular pattern. Still, he could see the dark clouds following close behind, and he knew this particular storm was just getting started.

The green haze gave way to darkness as the winds picked up and the air chilled further. Adam grabbed Hoss’s hand and ran toward the house while the first drops of rain splattered on the remaining hail and dirt, creating splashing fountains of muddy water. They stopped inside the door to watch as the rain fell with such velocity and quantity that they couldn’t even see the barn across the yard.

“Is it gonna flood?” Hoss’s words came out in clipped fear.

“I don’t think so.” There hadn’t been rain for several days, so Adam knew that the ground could absorb a lot of moisture before water would accumulate. But the rain was pounding so hard and fast, he wasn’t sure there was time for it to soak in. If that happened, it could flood very quickly. It would all depend on how long this part of the storm lasted. One thing he realized as his stomach did a flip, was that his father and Marie wouldn’t be home anytime soon. In fact, he hoped they were still in town rather than caught somewhere in the open. He pushed that image aside as he considered what he needed to do next.

He was thankful that despite the thunder and lightning, his baby brother hadn’t started crying as he usually did. And while Hoss was shaking and scared by the events taking place, he too was putting on a brave face. It was so dark that Adam lit lamps to brighten the room, and grabbed a few books. “C’mon over by the fire, and I’ll read while we wait for this to pass.” Hoss sat on the ledge of the hearth and Adam propped Little Joe on his lap as he began reading a book about a shipwrecked family, called Swiss Family Robinson. He was only a few pages into it when he felt a warm wetness spreading across his lap. He groaned, “Seems like we need a change again.” He held Little Joe at arm’s length and headed upstairs. “Luckily it’s just wet this time,” he called back to Hoss. “We’ll be back in a minute.” After a diaper change for the baby and a change of pants for himself, Adam returned, this time placing a leather pad under Little Joe, and he began to read again. A quick glance toward the window confirmed what he’d heard upstairs with the heavy rain pounding the roof. It wasn’t quite as dark as it had been, but the amount of rain falling had not lessened. The eldest Cartwright son had to take a deep breath to calm his voice as his nerves began to jangle.

Five

The women had managed to put out the refreshments they’d brought to the gathering, and the group had nibbled as they tried to act nonchalant about the thunder that rattled the windows and the deafening sound of rain hitting the roof above them. Will laughed as he handed out new buckets for his guests to place around the room where water had snaked its way under shingles and dripped to the floor.

Ben was proud of his wife. She’d organized the lunch and cleanup, and she was now occupying the children by teaching them a simple card game. He knew she was nervous, because while they’d watched the sheets of rain occluding everything beyond the pane of glass a few minutes earlier, her fingers had clenched as she’d held his hand, and her nails had dug into his calloused palm. He’d smiled at her, and whispered, “They’ll be fine.” Her brief nod and sigh had done nothing to relieve the strength of her grip, and he’d finally removed his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her close.

Marie joined her husband again once the children were able to play the game on their own. Will walked up behind the couple and spoke softly. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here. You must be concerned about the boys. I can’t promise that they’re not in any danger, but I do know that these storms can be spotty. It might be pouring here, and only drizzling 10 miles away.”

They nodded, and Ben said, “That’s true.”

“Besides,” Will added, “If I was to leave my children with anyone, it would be Adam. That boy is the most resourceful and responsible teenager I’ve ever known. I wish my son was more like him.”

Marie laid her hand on his. “Thank you, Will. We know how difficult this day is for you, and we don’t want you worrying about our boys too. The ranch hands are close by the house, and I’m sure they returned if they sensed danger.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and gave Marie a half smile after Will moved on to his other guests. “Did you just tell a lie? I thought you told the boys it was never all right to lie.”

“I did say that, but that’s because they’re children, and don’t know how to lie properly.” She grinned back. “And I don’t know that it’s not true. Hugh knew that we were coming to town and the boys would be alone. I think he’d go through the fires of hell if he thought they were in danger.”

“I agree,” he answered as he gazed back out at the sheets of falling rain. Ben knew that Hugh was a good foreman, and a good man who cared about the Cartwright family. He’d already brought Adam under his wing, taking him along on short drives to teach him how to move cattle. He’d even given him a pet name, calling him, Young Cartwright, instead of Adam. Hugh liked teasing Hoss and would chase him around the yard playing tag, but he usually just smiled sheepishly at Little Joe. Ben suspected that babies scared the stuffing out of Hugh, yet the veteran drover doted on the youngest Cartwright, whittling toys for him, and even making a rattle out of dried leather that he’d filled with small stones.

But today, Hugh and his men were up in the hills bringing the herd down to winter pasture, and with the raging storm, Ben knew they had their hands full just controlling the frightened beef. If the fates were kindly favored, the storm hit when they were near a confined area, and they got them penned a bit. If not, they’d be chasing strays until snow stopped their search. A storm like this could result in the loss of many head and the cash they’d have brought at sale.

Marie looked at the clock behind the store counter and tugged on her husband’s sleeve. “It’s nearly four,” she said as she tried to control her shaking voice. “Little Joe must be hungry by this time.”

Ben patted her hand gently and smiled down at her. “And I’m sure he’s expressing his displeasure at your absence in the loudest manner possible. But,” he paused until she smiled back, “Adam will figure something out. He’s a watcher.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He observes everything we do. You used to say it unnerved you when you’d see him watching how you did things.”

“I remember. I asked him once why he was so interested, and he said that he wanted to know as much about everything as he could.” She stood taller, and said, “He will think of something,” with far more conviction than she felt. He voice set with steel as she added, “But we will leave here as soon as humanly possible.”

Six

With the warmth of the fire, a change of diaper, and the calm tone of his brother’s voice as he read aloud, Little Joe had fallen asleep on Adam’s lap. Hoss was stretched out on the rug in front of the hearth listening carefully as the story unfolded, and as Adam stopped to turn a page, he asked, “Why’s them folks called the Swiss Family Robinson?”

Adam checked the front of the book to confirm his thoughts before answering. “It was written by a Swiss man named, Johann Wyss. I suppose he made the family Swiss like he was.”

The younger boy scrunched his face into a series of creases. “What’s Swiss mean?”

“He was from Switzerland. That’s a country in Europe.” Adam knew that Hoss was a bright child, but there was little call for him to know geography just yet. He was learning how to read with Marie’s guidance and doing very well, but his studies were limited to the three “R’s” at this point. “Bring Pa’s big green book over to the table and I’ll show you where it is on the map.” Their father had a beautifully illustrated atlas that Adam had spent many hours studying over the years.

“Ooph,” Hoss grunted as he set it down. “That’s one heavy book!”

Adam had switched Little Joe around to sleep on his shoulder, and carried him to the table. He paged through until he came to the map of the world and pointed toward the small Swiss country on the continent labeled Europe. “That’s where the book was written.”

Hoss asked, “So where’s us on this map?”

The opposite page showed a map of North America and Adam pointed out the general area where the Ponderosa sat. “Much of this part of the country hasn’t even been mapped well yet,” he explained.

“Pa should write a book about us and call it the…ah…something…Family Cartwright. I guess I need to know what we are before I can name it right.”

Adam tried not to laugh but chuckled in spite of his resolve. “That’s a good idea. When you think about it, we’re kind of doing what the Robinsons did. There wasn’t a shipwreck, but we came to an area that we made into our home with nothing but what we’d brought along in the wagon. Maybe we aren’t quite as isolated as they were, but we still learned to live on the land and make do.”

“So what are we?” the youngster asked in a serious voice.

The older boy’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well that family was Swiss; what are we?”

“Hmm. The name Cartwright is English, and means that our ancestors were cart makers.”

Hoss laughed. “Cart makers? I wish we’d a been kings or somethin’ like that.”

“Don’t be disappointed. The artisans in a town—like cart makers—were well thought of.”

“So we’d be the English Family Cartwright?”

Adam smiled. “Well, I would be because my mother’s name was Stoddard and that was English too. They were horse breeders back in history. But your mother was Swedish, and Marie is French, so,” he winked, “we’d have to be the English, Swedish, French, American Family Cartwright.”

Hoss waved the idea away with a snort. “That’d be too long a name. We’ll have to come up with somethin’ better’n that.”

“You work on it,” Adam laughed as he stood. “I’m gonna put Joe down for a nap, and then see about making something for us to eat. I bet you’re hungry.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Mama and Pa? They should be home soon.” Hoss’s face held a hopeful smile as he asked the question

Adam turned back at the bottom of the steps. “They can’t come through this weather. They’ll get back as soon as they can, but I’m guessing they’re still in town waiting out the rain.” He saw his younger brother nod forlornly. “I’m not a good cook, but I think we can sop some bread in scrambled eggs and fry it. You like that sprinkled with a little sugar.”

The little boy’s eyes brightened. “Sure, that’d be good! I’ll get the pan and a bowl ready while you toss Baby Joe in bed.”

Hoss was looking out the window when Adam came back down, and the older boy wondered what was so fascinating that it would keep the child from going ahead with lunch preparations. He joined him, and gulped when he saw what was mesmerizing his brother. “Wow,” he breathed.

“Yeah; wow.” Hoss echoed.

Rain was still falling hard and fast, but now the ground was saturated. Water was already pooled in lower areas and the liquid edges of those hollows were rapidly moving toward one another, threatening to cover the entire yard between the house and the barn. Their home was built on a platform, but the barn was at ground level and Adam realized that water would soon reach the doors. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed slickers for himself and Hoss; handing it to the wide-eyed youngster when he returned. “Put this on. We have to fill those empty feed bags with sand and block up the doors to the barn before it floods.”

Hoss was so nervous at the new development that he had trouble getting his shirt sleeves through the stiff canvas. “What about Baby Joe?”

“He’s asleep. We’ll check him in a while. Marie leaves him to sleep while she works outside.” He released a deep sigh. “Besides, I don’t know what I’d do with him if we had to take him out there with us.”

Adam remembered that there was some fairly dry, sandy soil under the roof of a lean-to at the back of the corral they used to keep the feed-hay dry. After making a quick stop in the tool shed for a spade and the bags, they got to work with Adam shoveling while Hoss held the sacks open. They stacked the filled bags on a wheeled cart to move them over to the barn. While struggling through the soggy dirt, Adam quipped, “Hey, Hoss, you realize our ancestors would have been the ones who made this carts back in the middle ages.”

The boy laughed. “Maybe if they’d a been kings instead, they could’a hired someone to build them, and we’d be so rich we could buy bags already filled with sand.”

After lining the front side of the barn with a double barrier of bags, Adam sent Hoss in to do a quick baby check. The water in the yard already covered the child’s feet as he sloshed back, and reported, “He’s awake and crying, Adam! His face is so red, that his head looks like it’s gonna pop!”

Adam looked back across the yard while the heavy rain pounded down on his hat, and ran off the brim like a pitcher spout. What he saw developing made his heart pound faster. They’d managed to control the water’s entrance into the barn, but now it was creeping up on the house, and he knew they should reinforce those entry-points as well. “Go wait by the sand,” he ordered Hoss and then loped his way through the water. Once inside the house, he rummaged around until he found the carrier Marie wore to hold Little Joe on her back while she worked. It was a canvas knapsack with holes at the bottom for Joe’s legs and it came up high enough on his body that he wouldn’t tip out. The shoulder straps would fit Adam’s body fine, although Marie had to tie them together with a rope in front to keep them from sliding down her arms.

He groaned loudly as he walked into his father’s bedroom, figuring it was better to get his frustration out of his system that way instead of hollering about finding Joe wet again. Adam changed the diaper and then wrapped his brother’s short legs in a blanket, creating makeshift pants to keep his lower limbs warm while in the carrier, and slipped one of Marie’s home-knit sweaters onto the uncooperative baby’s arms before nestling him into the contraption and slipping it onto his back. He’d taken his wet slicker off and had to replace that, covering Joe in the process. With the baby on his back, he could only get the top two buttons closed, but he figured that would let enough air flowing around him to keep the child from suffocating.

He carefully plodded through the muck back out to Hoss, and they filled more bags with sand. Adam was thankful that for whatever reason, Little Joe had stopped crying, and judging from the kicking and babbling going on under the coat, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

Adam had no idea how long they’d worked shoring up the barn and house doors, but it was starting to get dark again, and this time it wasn’t the storm. He was thankful that they’d finished their work before evening, and patted his younger brother on the back as they headed toward the house. “You did a good job, Hoss. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

When they reached the porch, Adam looked Hoss over and realized he was soaked from the bottom of his coat down to his feet, and said, “Strip down out here and I’ll hang your wet stuff in the kitchen while you get into a nightshirt, robe and dry socks.” With Hoss off doing as he’d been told, Adam removed his own wet outerwear and was amazed and thankful that Joe had stayed mostly dry under the heavy canvas coat. Still his skin felt cool, and Adam knew he’d have to warm him up quickly. As he looked from the dying embers in the fireplace to the few pieces of wood sitting in the bin, he realized he’d need to bring in more logs before he could get out of his soggy clothes. He waited for Hoss to return to keep an eye on Joe before he shrugged back into the wet coat and headed back out into the blowing rain.

He’d already carried several armloads of wood across the water-covered yard between the wood shed and the house, and had set the logs by the door; asking Hoss to carry move them to the bin. The pile inside had grown to an amount he was sure would last through the night, and he was hurrying back with the final load, thinking ahead to getting dry, warm and fed, when his foot hit a deep, slippery pothole hidden under the water. There was an audible and sensory pop as his ankle twisted. Fortunately his forward momentum sent him sprawling face down in the mud instead of collapsing on the injured joint. Unfortunately, not all of the logs he was carrying went flying during the awkward fall, and he landed on the ones he’d been holding closest to his body. The pain in his ankle and chest were bad enough that he felt dizzy and nauseated as he tried to stand. The tumble had left him soaked to the skin and covered in mud, and he snorted in a brief moment of wry humor when he saw his hat floating away on the current of water moving through the yard in what he mentally dubbed, the Ponderosa River. The nausea passed as he stood a little longer, and he sighed with relief as his ankle held when he brought his weight to bear on it. It hurt, but Adam figured that if it held him up when he took a step, it would mean that no bones had broken. He limped back to the shed to grab dry logs, and stepped carefully on the way back to the house. The ground beneath the water was so slick that he wondered how he’d managed to move through it at all, and he looked heavenward as he sent a quick thank you for being able to stay on his feet as long as he had.

Hoss was waiting in the doorway as his brother finally appeared out of the darkness, and he hollered, “What’s takin’ you so long? Baby Joe is startin’ up to cryin’ again.”

His brother’s news was the final straw: the insult added to injury. Adam stopped, and let the cold rain saturate him as it had the ground. It ran through his hair, dripping down his forehead and snaked its way into the collar of his coat, drenching anything beneath it that had remained dry. His ankle and chest were throbbing, and he felt worn to the bone. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of turning around and running away. The feeling passed, and he grinned as he started moving forward again, thinking that he couldn’t really “run” anyway. And he was a Cartwright, and the English, Swedish, French, American Family Cartwright always did the best job they could. After tossing the last logs into the house, he held his arms out and let the rain wash away the dirt and sludge. He stripped out of his wet things at the door, hopped to the steps on his good leg, and used the walls of the stairway to ease his way up to his room without uttering a word. Once he was dry and attired in his nightclothes and slippers, he made his way back down to build up the fire and deal with his hungry brothers.

“I think Joe’s starvin’” Hoss suggested when Adam came down the steps. He gave his brother a good looking over. “Why’re you limpin’? And yer one ankle looks a lot bigger than t’other.”

“You’re very observant,” Adam grumbled. “C’mon, kid, we’re not done yet. Let’s build up some heat in here and light more lamps. Then we’ll see about fixing some food.”

Seven

The endless stream of water flowing down the hill and across the rutted road past Cass’s general store had begun to ease as the rain slowed to a drizzle. The friends who’d holed up together in the store had made a run for their homes as the rain had diminished, leaving only Marie and Ben with Will and his children. Marie was pacing the perimeter of the room, looking out each window as she passed by.

Will pulled Ben aside, speaking quietly. “I know your wife will want to head for home now that the worst of it is past, but won’t it be too treacherous now that it’s nightfall?”

“I know that, and you know that, but it will take some convincing to make Marie accept that. She’s ready to walk home if she has to.”

“That cabin next door is still furnished and there’s clean bedding in the chest. Why don’t you convince her to spend the night there and leave at first light.”

“What are you two talking about?” Marie asked with a wary look as she made her way over to the two men. She looked pointedly at her husband “I thought you’d be getting ready to go now that the rain is ending.”

Ben took her hands. “Will suggested we use the cabin next door for the night. I think we should accept.” Marie tried to object, but he went on. “We don’t know what might have happened out there during all that rain, and it’s a long way home. The roads to our place weren’t great to start with, and they may have washed out. And you know there are some sections that are tricky to pass through even in the daylight. At night, on slippery roads, they’d be deadly.”

“Won’t it be just as deadly tomorrow?” she asked with a pout.

“Maybe, but at least we’ll be able to see what’s ahead and we can work our way around the worst areas. We’ll borrow saddle horses instead of taking the wagon so we won’t needs roads. You’ll have to ride a full saddle to give you stability, and we’ll need to find some warmer clothing. It’s cooled down already, and I’m sure by tomorrow it will be cold.”

“I’m sure Anne had things you can use, Marie,” Will offered. “I’d give my coat to Ben, but it would be too small.” He thought a moment, and added, “I’m sure we can find a heavier shirt in the store, and Jim Wright is close to your size.”

Marie wasn’t happy about the plans, but she agreed they made the most sense. It wouldn’t help their children if they didn’t make it home at all. She moved off to a quiet corner and prayed, asking that the good Lord watch over their sons and give Adam courage, patience, and the presence of mind to cope with his brothers. She knew that Little Joe was a sweet, easy-going baby, until he was hungry or wanted attention. Then he’d cry and carry on until he got what he needed. He’d never had to wait long, and she grimaced, suspecting that Joe’s reaction to a delay would not be pleasant for his two older brothers.

Eight

Adam blew out a breath as he finally sat down in the rocking chair in front of the blazing fire. He gingerly raised his left leg onto the hearth and examined the large blackish-blue bull’s eye that had formed around the bone in his ankle. The swelling had increased too, now encapsulating his foot, and making his toes puffy. He yelped when he pressed the skin near the bruising, and decided that this was the point of injury. The throbbing had stopped in favor of numbness…unless he pressed on it, and he cautioned himself not to do that again.

The other two Cartwright sons were lying on the rug, taking in the warmth of the fire. Hoss was up on his elbow making faces at his baby brother while the recipient of the performance expressed his delight with giggles and squeals. Adam was relieved that all had gone as well as it had during the day, but he was still worried about the rising water outside. He’d checked again before he’d sat down and felt great relief that the drizzle had ended. The air had cooled so much over the day that he thought he had seen a few snowflakes swirling in the breeze. The problem that remained was even though the rain had stopped, the saturated ground was still rejecting water, and the runoff would continue to drain toward lower ground.

Their first cabin had been built on a small rise, but the work hands had set this house to get the best views, and nestled it in the trees so they hadn’t had to do a lot of clearing. That decision had put the residence on ground that was even with what surrounded it, and from the way the water had moved during the day’s storm, there was a natural drainage area running through the middle of the yard between the house and barn. There hadn’t been a storm like this since they’d begun living in the house over a year ago, but there had been some indication of a problem with the spring thaw. He and his father had talked about building a ditch to divert drainage from higher ground around the back of the house and into the pasture. But there’d been more important things to accomplish, and the situation had gone unresolved. Adam suspected his father was thinking about that decision right now, and hoping it hadn’t cost him dearly. Yet he was excited in spite of the work he’d had to do to keep things from flooding, because the erosion from the storm would show them exactly where to place the swale and what areas in the yard needed to be filled in.

His attention came back to the present when he heard Hoss say. “Uh oh, Adam, Joe looks like he’s getting’ ready to blow again.” He knew instantly what was happening when he saw the baby’s face turning red as he strained. He looked over at Hoss, and both boys began to laugh. They laughed so hard that tears were running down their cheeks before the deed was accomplished, and then Little Joe began giggling too.

This time the diaper held tight and cleanup was quick. “Would you like me to read more from the Robinson book?” Adam asked.

“Nah…it’s good and all, but I’m tuckered out and wouldn’t listen so well.” He waited a minute before asking the question he’d asked earlier in the day. “Is our house gonna flood, Adam?”

The older boy limped to the door and checked again. “Nope. I think our work with the sandbags did the trick. Water came up about halfway onto the ones by the porch, but it’s going down now.”

The youngster smiled. “That’s good,” he said in a yawn. “Can I ask you somethin’ else?”

“Sure.”

“How come you know so much?”

“What do you mean?”

“You knew what to do when Joe…exploded this morning. Then you knew what to do when the rain started, and how to make sandbags, and you even knew what to feed Little Joe when he was starvin’ to death.”

“I’m older for one thing, and I learned a lot when we were on the way west, and then from Pa when we settled here. I knew what to feed Joe from back when you were a baby we and had to give you cereal or milk-soaked bread from when you were just a couple weeks old, because otherwise you wouldn’t last more than an hour or two before you’d be hungry again.”

Hoss giggled. “I still like to eat.” His eyes rose as he bit his cheek. “You know what I don’t understand is why Mama always says she’s gonna go to feed Little Joe and then she goes upstairs without no food. How’s she feed him without taking anything along?”

Adam grinned as he thought back to a time when he’d thought his father had given Hoss away because another woman had taken him after Inger had died. Pa had tried to explain the reason for it, but he’d finally given up and just said Mrs. Henkel was helping them out for a while. Adam discovered the reason himself, after he’d gone into the wagon while she was nursing. She’d taken the time to explain what she was doing and that she could do it because her baby had died just before Hoss had been born. She’d called it a blessed providence that Hoss was a child without a mother, and she was a mother without a child.

Hoss’s question made Adam wonder if he should tell his brother about it. Hoss had seen calves and colts nursing and he could probably make the connection from the animal world to the human species if he wanted to. But he was tired and didn’t care to answer all the questions that were bound to crop up from such a revelation, and simply replied, “Ask Marie; she’ll explain it to you.”

The two older boys played a game of checkers while Adam held Little Joe who grabbed at the pieces and chewed on the edges. When the yawning at the table became too frequent to ignore, Adam declared it was time to sleep.

“I’m kind’a scared to be alone tonight,” Hoss confessed. “Can I sleep with you Adam?”

“I think we can do even better than that. It’s chilly upstairs, so we’ll bring our blankets down and sleep in front of the fire…you know, sort of camp out.” The idea was well received and Hoss ran up to gather the bedding they’d need, nearly tripping on the steps as he carried it all down. Adam set up two areas for himself and Hoss, and then emptied out the large drawer from the cupboard and padded it as a crib for Little Joe. After a cookie for the middle brother and a little more milk and bread mush for the baby, he got the two settled for the night.

Adam found that he was tired, but not sleepy, so he limped to the kitchen and cleaned up the dishes from supper, folded the laundry that was already dry, and stoked the stove to create more warmth to heat the room more for the wetter things, before sitting at the table to read.

Nine

After making supper at the Cass house, Marie slipped over to the cabin to make up the bed. Ben had gone over earlier to start a fire, and when she finished setting things to her satisfaction, she sat in the chair by the fireplace and allowed herself to shed the tears she’d been holding back. It wasn’t that she was angry at the turn of events, it was the gut wrenching uncertainty that plagued her heart and mind. The “what ifs” turned over and over as she imagined the worst scenarios to drive out the positive thoughts she’d held in place all afternoon. She was doubled over in a sob when Ben opened the door, and came rushing over.

“Marie,” he soothed as he held her tightly. “I’m worried too, but a sense of peace came over me this evening, and I know our children are fine. I imagine they’ll be mad because we didn’t get there like we promised. They’ll be hungry, tired and the house will be a mess, but they’ll be fine.”

She lifted her head and touched his cheek. “You always give me hope and make me brave, Benjamin Cartwright. I felt it from the first time you spoke to me, and the only reason I rejected you at first was to see if you’d come back.” She kissed him tenderly. “I was so relieved when you did, because I was already in love with you.”

Ten

“Huh?” Adam blurted as his head snapped up. He wiped away the drool that had accumulated on his chin and looked over to see Hoss standing next to him by the table. “Did you say something?” he asked the wide-eyed child.

“I can’t sleep…or maybe it’s I can’t stay asleep, and wondered if you’d come by us now.”

The older brother glanced over and was overjoyed to see Little Joe sleeping soundly. “I guess I can do that. Do you need anything before we turn in?”

Hoss grinned. “Well, maybe you could tell me a story first.”

“Should I read a little more now? That might do the trick.”

The youngster’s eye twinkled in the lamplight as he crawled onto his brother’s lap. “I was thinkin’ maybe you could tell me the story of the Family Cartwright.”

Adam had told his little brother this story many times, but Hoss never got tired of hearing it. He always wanted to have it told from the beginning. He wrapped his arms around the little boy and began:

“There was once a brave seafaring man named Ben Cartwright, who wanted to leave his ship behind and sail across the plains in a wagon.” He normally embellished this part greatly, but with the late hour and the sleepy child on his lap, he moved the story along.

“Mr. Cartwright married a beautiful woman in Boston and had a son, Adam. But sadly, the lovely Elizabeth passed away, and the man and his infant son had to go on alone to find their destiny.”

“Where’d you go?” Hoss asked, as he always did.

“We made our way to Ohio with Pa working many jobs along the way to save up enough for the trip west.”

“Tell me about Uncle John,” Hoss prompted.

“Pa and I stayed with his brother John and his family for a little while. They were nice and I had other kids to play with, but then we had to get moving on to our goal.”

“Because Cousin Will lied, right?” the younger boy added.

“It was just time to leave, but there was some trouble too. I don’t remember all of it, but Will, who was about my age, broke an expensive clock and then blamed me for it. When I said that wasn’t true, Uncle John said I lied, and Pa decided it was time to go.”

“Did Pa believe you?”

“Of course he did, but Pa didn’t want to make trouble. Pa hoped Will would tell the truth someday, but he figured that was best left between Uncle John and his son. He paid for the clock and we headed toward Missouri.”

“This is where it gets good, right, Adam?”

“That’s right. It was a long way to Missouri, and the weather was bad that summer. It was either raining and cold, or so hot you couldn’t breathe. It took its toll on me and I got sick, so Pa and I pulled into a little town in Illinois. Pa decided we’d stay there so I could rest better, and he could work because our money was running low again. But in that town we met a beautiful woman with a Swedish accent who was very kind to us. She gave me “medicine”, as she called it, and sat with me when I had to stay in bed while Pa was working.”

Hoss whispered, “That was my mama.”

“Yes, that was your mama. I liked Inger from the very first time I met her. Pa was pretty grouchy at first, and didn’t want her to think we needed charity. But your mama was so sweet that Pa finally saw how nice she was, and he got to know her better. We both loved Inger, and Pa decided she would make a perfect Cartwright. We bought a bigger wagon after they got married, and we headed towards St. Joe.”

The little boy looked up at his brother and smiled. “I like this next part the best,” he whispered.

“Along the wagon trail in Nebraska, Pa and Inger had a baby boy, and they named, Eric. I named you Hoss because that’s what your Uncle Gunnar said Pa should call a son if they had one. You were a big baby from the start, and pretty cute too.”

“I think that’s all I want to hear tonight.” Hoss said as he laid his head on his brother’s chest. “I’m pretty sleepy now.”

Adam knew that sometimes Hoss wanted the entire tale retold, but tonight he didn’t want to hear about his mother’s bravery at Ash Hollow or the journey after she died. Tonight, he just needed to remember that Inger was beautiful and kind, and how she fell in love with a traveling man and his little boy, and that’s how he came into the Cartwright family saga. “C’mon then,” he said as he slid the child from his lap. I’ll put a few more logs on the fire and we’ll snuggle up and get some rest.”

In minutes the room became silent except for the rhythmic breathing of the three children who slept in the fire’s glow.

Eleven

“See, I told you he’d make it back here,” Marie called to Ben as they brought their horses to a stop at the edge of the yard. She was pointing to Hugh, who was exiting the barn.

The worried parents had slept restlessly, and had already been up getting ready when there’d been a knock on the door. Outside were the same friends and neighbors who’d been with them at the burial the day before. They bore gifts of breakfast, warm clothes and two saddled horses to get the couple on their way. The outpouring of concern had brought Marie to tears, as she’d thanked them. They’d eaten hurriedly and had gotten on the road with the first rays of light.

The ride that normally took under an hour had taken nearly three, as they’d been forced to slow down or pick their way around the worst of the washouts and boggy fields. Ben had been relieved to see the house and outbuildings from a distance—all still standing. But he hadn’t been able to see the condition between the buildings until they’d gotten to where they’d stopped. He waved to Hugh and motioned him over, rather than moving their horses into the mud.

Marie wanted to jump off her horse and run to the house, but Ben laid a hand on her arm, and said, “Let’s wait to hear Hugh’s report first.” Ben greeted his foreman with a hearty handshake when he finally found a way over to them that didn’t involve tromping through the sludge. “Looks like we lost the outside stock,” Ben commented as he nodded toward the empty corral. “I suppose they spooked when the storm hit.”

Hugh shook his head. “No, sir, they’re all in the barn or their pens. It’s gonna take some cleaning to get that barn straightened out again, but them sandbags along the front kept everything dry inside or it would have been a real mess. I was just about to let some of them animals out and get workin’ when I heard you ride up. ”

“Didn’t you get here before the storm hit?” Marie asked as she blew warm air through the stitches of her knit gloves onto her freezing hands.

“No Ma’am. I just got here myself.”

Her voice held an edge of panic. “Did you see the boys? Are they all right?”

“I ain’t seen them yet, but I saw smoke comin’ from the chimney so I figured they was all right.” He removed his hat and scratched his head. “But now you mention it, I’m surprised they didn’t come out when I got here.”

Marie was off her horse and headed toward the house before Ben could stop her. He handed the reins of their horses to Hugh and ran to catch up. “Slow down, before you fall and hurt yourself,” he ordered as he pulled her to a stop. They hadn’t been able to see the front of the house from where’d they’d been, and now he could see the sandbags piled up against the porch, back door, and the sides exposed to the rushing water. The watermarks staining them indicated that the water would have gotten into the house if they hadn’t been put in place, but it seemed far too much work for a teenager and six-year-old to have accomplished. Yet, if Hugh hadn’t been there, then he reasoned that it must have been the boys, and Ben’s chest swelled with pride.

Ben walked ahead of Marie, picking his steps carefully until they could step over the feedbags and get to the door. She pushed past him into the house, stopping abruptly to look around the room, and then back at her husband.

The interior was tidy except for the washlines strung across the room holding an assortment of clothing. There was a lingering scent of fried toast in the air, letting her know the boys had cooked. Her eyes finally came to rest on their three boys…still asleep on the rug in front of the fire.

She looked up at Ben and took his hand. “They did so much work, they must have been exhausted.”

He could only nod for fear of revealing the catch of emotion that would have shown in his voice. He led his wife over to the tangle of arms and legs, and bent down to nudge Adam gently.

The oldest son rubbed at his eyes as he awoke, and smiled broadly when he realized who had poked him. He stood and tried to take a step towards his father, but his ankle gave way and he tumbled forward.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked after catching him, and helping him to the rocker.

“Ankle.” Adam grimaced in pain as he lifted his leg and pointed to the swollen, black-and-blue appendage. “Fell last night,” the young man explained in clipped words; his eyes widening in panic when he realized he was having trouble breathing. “Chest hurts,” he squeaked out as his breathing became labored.

Ben opened the buttons of his son’s nightshirt and saw the streaks of bruising along his ribs. “Did this happen in the same fall?”

Adam nodded. “Holding wood for…” he choked out as he pointed toward the fire.

Hoss was awake too and came over to pat his brother’s back. “I’m sure glad yer back, Pa,” he said before turning his concern to Adam. “He fell bad outside, but other than limpin’ and that  big ankle he got, he didn’t seem hurt too awful bad.”

A nod from the wheezing teen confirmed his younger brother’s assessment.

Marie joined in helping Adam after checking Little Joe. “You probably have a bad sprain, sweetheart,” she cooed as she examined the injured ankle. “Get that shirt down further so I can see how bad those bruises are on his chest,” she commanded her husband. “Oh, these are bad too,” she said after looking them over and pressing against them, eliciting only hissing and grimacing. She patted his shoulder after pulling his gown back into place. “I’m guessing you stiffened up overnight, and got it all to hurting again when you moved too fast just now. You’d have had severe pain and trouble breathing from the beginning if you’d broken ribs. Let’s get you up to your room now so you can rest.” As he limped off toward the steps, holding onto Ben’s arm, she caught up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. Your father promised you could handle whatever came your way, and he was right. You are an amazing young man.”

The “young man” blushed as he mumbled a thank you in a breathy wheeze.

Twelve

Adam began to feel better soon he got settled his own soft bed. Marie quickly brought cool compresses for his head and chest, while Pa and Hoss fashioned a poultice for his ankle out of the cold mud from the yard.

He’d drifted off for a while, but awoke when his father came back to check on him.  “It must be pretty cold outside,” Adam commented. “I noticed how chilly your coat felt when you caught me earlier, and that mud was freezing cold.”

“There’s a thin coat of ice on the puddles already,” Ben confirmed as he pulled a chair to the bedside. “And it’s gotten windy. But that should help things dry out pretty fast.” He patted his son’s shoulder. “Hugh and I looked around outside and saw all the things you did to protect our stock and the buildings. Marie was grateful that everything inside was in such good order too, and,” he grinned widely, “Hoss told us about Little Joe’s ‘explosion’ and how you took care of both of them all day. I forgot how we made that bread mush to feed Hoss, but I’m glad you remembered. Joe seems to have done well with it and if you hadn’t tried that, he would have been pretty unhappy. In fact…” Ben looked toward the door and listened for a moment to make sure no one was coming up the steps. “Marie admitted that she will give Joe some of that at night to make him sleep better.”

“Thanks, Pa. Hoss helped a lot too,” Adam revealed with a look of pride. “He’s so tall that I forget how young he is, but he had to watch Little Joe when I was busy, and he did a good job loading those bags with me. I counted on him yesterday, and he really pitched in without grumbling.”

“Sounds like a little boy I used to know,” Ben remarked softly as he sat forward. “You were always a big help to me, son. You could drive the wagon when you were barely six. And after Inger died…well…I admit that you took care of Hoss and a lot of other things when I got too busy to handle it all. So maybe Hoss did such a good job because he had a good big brother to learn from.”

“He had both of us, Pa. I learned what I know from you. We were the Family Cartwright, setting off to find our home…and now we’re here building it just like you always dreamed we would.”

Ben leaned over to kiss the top of Adam’s head. It wasn’t something he did since the boy had grown into a young man overnight. But his fatherly heart was so proud and filled with love that he reclaimed the little boy who’d traveled so many miles at his side with the gesture. “You should rest more,” he said; his voice husky with emotion. A gust of wind outside swirled dancing snowflakes past Adam’s window, and they both watched for a moment. “Are you warm enough?” Ben asked with a shiver.

“Yeah, Pa. Marie has enough blankets on me to give me a fever.” Father and son shared a laugh. “Hey, Pa,” Adam added, “I’m really glad you and Marie are back.”

The End

 

Tags:  Ben Cartwright, Family, Marie Cartwright, Storm