Summary: Thirteen-year-old Hoss has to deal with changes, both at home and within himself. In the midst of his confusion a young girl enters his life. She gives Hoss a new perspective and together they share “One Golden Summer”.

Rated: Family Friendly / Word count: 20,000

 

One Golden Summer

Chapter 1

White clouds floated overhead—great puffy giants, leaving wispy tendrils lagging lazily behind—each one creating its own unique pageantry for the silent observer below. Soft breezes played with the grass surrounding a cherubic face, lost in dreamy wonder. Putting his hands behind his head, thirteen-year-old Hoss Cartwright sighed contentedly as the leaves rustled lightly in the trees, stirring the wonderful scent of pine and cedar. It was a perfect day. He was high in the mountains, in a small sweeping valley he’d discovered—one that he had never shared with anyone else. In this place he was at peace, tucked safely away from a world that was beginning to overwhelm him. To say that he had experienced a growth spurt in the last few months would have been an understatement. For the first time yesterday he had met his father’s gaze eye to eye, and it had frightened him. But today, all that was behind him. Today he had left everything behind when he’d turned his horse away from the school yard and headed instead for the hills that seemed to be calling out to him. It was the last day of the school term, and if Little Joe hadn’t been sick that morning, he would have had to spend the day inside a stuffy school house, trying to cram his oversized body into a desk that was made for a boy, quite literally, half his size. He knew that if his pa found out, he would have some heavy explaining to do, but he didn’t care. The moment he was experiencing would be worth almost any cost. Hoss allowed his eyes to slide shut, but was startled a moment later by a soft sigh coming from just over to his left. He quickly sat up and looked toward an outcropping of large boulders and was surprised to see a young girl sitting atop one of the smooth, round rocks. She wore a pink gingham dress that was pulled down over the knees she had drawn up to her chest. Her long blonde hair was pulled back loosely from her face and held in place with a white ribbon, and she rested her chin on her knees as she looked at him through eyes so blue they seemed a mirror image of the crystal waters that lay not too far in the distance.

“I wondered if you were ever going to get up,” she said, slowly raising her head.

“How long you been there?” Hoss asked quickly reaching out to grab his white cotton socks.

“You don’t have to wear those on my account,” the girl said as she pointed to his boots. “See, I don’t have any on either.”

Hoss couldn’t help but smile as she poked out a pair of tiny, pink feet and wiggled her toes.

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he said, suddenly feeling very shy.

The girl just nodded, and he watched as she slid off the boulder, landing nimbly on the soft grass beneath her. As she approached, her small stature made him feel even more self-conscious, and he nervously twisted the sock in his hands.

The girl stopped directly in front of him. “What’s your name?”

She didn’t seem the least bothered by his size. It seemed everybody had some remark for him lately, but she just stood there, waiting expectantly, perfectly at ease.

“Hoss,” he said after a moment.

“Hoss,” the girl repeated. She seemed to roll the name around the tip of her tongue for a moment before continuing. “That suits you. My name is Melissa. Melissa Clark, but seeing as how we’re going to be such good friends, you can call me Missy.”

Hoss looked down at the tiny hand she held out to him and gently took it in his. Her hand was soft and warm. He felt his insecurities melt away when she looked up at him, with gently freckled cheeks, and smiled.

“Do you want to see something wonderful?” she asked.

Hoss was surprised when he found himself nodding, and leaving his boots in the indented grass where he had spent most of the day, he followed the young girl that was leading him farther up the mountain.

Missy chattered happily as they walked along, and Hoss listened to the sound of her voice. Its flowing rhythm reminding him of some of the melodies his oldest brother had strummed on his guitar, but that had been before—before Adam had left to go to college. Hoss tried to pull his thoughts away from the longing he felt whenever he remembered his big brother though he couldn’t keep a look of sadness out of his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” Missy asked and stopped to place a hand on his arm.

“Ah, it’s nothin’,” Hoss said, embarrassed that she’d noticed. “I was just thinkin’.”

Missy turned then and continued walking. “Who is it you’re missing?”

“My . . . my brother. How’d you know?”

“I recognize that look,” she answered casually. “My grandpa gets the same look when he comes in at night to tuck me in.”

“Where do you live?” Hoss asked.

“You’re Mr. Cartwright’s son, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then I live just at the edge of your property, about a mile from here.”

Hoss had a sudden dawning revelation. “Is your grandpa Old Sam Clark?”

For the first time that day, Missy seemed hesitant, and she stopped and looked at him. “Yes.”

Hoss pulled at the collar of his shirt, afraid he might have offended his new found friend. “I didn’t mean nothin’. My little brother called him that when we saw him for the first time, and it just kind of stuck. I don’t mean no disrespect.”

Hoss could see her begin to relax and he gave her a shy smile which she returned. They continued on, and Hoss discovered that Missy and her grandpa were living in an old house that actually stood on Ponderosa property, but that had been abandoned long ago.

“Your Pa was so kind,” Missy said. “He told us we can stay there as long as we need it. I don’t think it will be too long though.”

“Oh,” Hoss said, not liking the idea that his new found friend might be leaving. “You thinkin’ of movin’ to town?” He couldn’t imagine that old Mr. Clark would be able to do any ranching, but at least if they were in town he could still see Missy once in a while.

“No,” Missy answered, stopping in front of a large bush that was growing in between two large rocks. She slowly pulled the branches apart so that Hoss could see what lay behind, but the spectacular view of a hidden waterfall wasn’t what took his breath away. “We won’t be staying long because I’m dying.”

Chapter 2

Dear Adam,

I met a girl. It’s not what you’re thinkin’! She’s, well . . .

Hoss sighed as he read his letter over one last time. Little Joe was fidgeting at his side, waiting not so patiently to add a picture to the bottom of the page before it was sealed. Normally, Hoss welcomed Little Joe’s creative contributions. It saved him from having to fill up an entire blank page with words, but this time was different. This time, he’d had a lot to talk about, and there was very little room left for Joe to draw. A fact over which Little Joe was now noisily protesting. Hoss eventually calmed him down by promising to leave extra room on the next one, and after making sure to cover his words from prying eyes, he went and sat down near the fireplace. His mind continued to echo the startling words from the day before.

“I’m dying.”

Hoss worked again to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat when Missy had told him, but it continued to sit hard and unmoving. He’d barely been able to eat anything at breakfast or lunch, and Hop Sing had been casting worried glances in his direction all day. Pa hadn’t seemed to notice, being preoccupied with the payroll and for that Hoss was grateful. He knew he wouldn’t be able to put into words what he was feeling—he wasn’t even sure himself what he was feeling. He’d never known anyone that knew they were going to die before. He thought back to when she had given him the news, so matter of fact, like she was telling him the time of day . . .

Hoss’s wide, blue eyes shot back to Missy’s face. “What did you say?”

The young girl sighed and then turned to face him. “You may as well know right off. The doctor said I probably won’t last the summer . . . It’s fitting somehow though. For me . . . summer will never end.”

Her voice had faded softly as she spoke, and Hoss continued to stare, unsure of what to say. He was surprised once again when a moment later she turned to him.

“Promise me you won’t cry,” she said.

Hoss knew he was gaping now, but he couldn’t help himself.

“You’ll want to sometimes, but promise me that you won’t.”

He stared hard at her for a moment. The unwelcome thought had just occurred to him that someone might have put her up to this. But her crystal blue gaze met him back squarely, and there was no teasing in her eyes, only a silent pleading. It was a request he couldn’t ignore.

“I . . . I won’t,” he promised.

Hoss could feel the sweat forming on his brow, and he wiped wet palms against his pant legs. Then Missy smiled, and he relaxed.

“We’re going to have a wonderful summer,” she said. “Let’s just forget I’m dying. Come on, I want to show you something else .”

Hoss couldn’t forget though, and now he was regretting that he had agreed to meet her again. He knew he needed to get going, or he would be late. His head was telling him to stay home and forget about the girl, but his heart knew that he couldn’t turn away.

“Pa, you mind if I go ridin’?” he finally asked after a few more moments of hesitation.

“As long as you’re back in time for supper, son.”

Even though his father’s gaze was focused on the papers in front of him, Hoss found himself nodding.

“I wanna go too,” came a plaintive voice.

Hoss groaned as Little Joe jumped the last two steps and scurried to join him, then quickly grabbed his hat. “Not today, little brother.” Before the young boy could even respond, Hoss was out the door. He stood outside for a moment with his hand on the knob. He knew Little Joe would be heartbroken, and tried to console himself with the fact that his little brother was still getting over a cold and really shouldn’t be out. He hurried to the barn, afraid that his Pa might come and demand he take his brother. Part of him wanted to talk to his Pa—tell him all that was going on, ask questions about what was happening—but he wasn’t ready to share any of it yet.

He had just rounded the corner of the house when he heard a buggy pull into the yard. He turned and gasped as he saw his teacher jump down then secure his horse to the rail. He sucked in a sharp breath, as his heart began to beat fiercely. He knew he should go back and face what was coming, and he sat for several minutes in before finally turning his horse and heading for the hills.

Hoss spurred his horse on as fast as he dared. He knew he was running—running from consequences, but mostly from disappointment. As he approached the bottom of a steep hill, he stopped and dismounted and after tethering his horse securely, he began the long climb up the side of the mountain. Here was another secret he was keeping. His hidden valley had not been easy to find, and the path to reach it was treacherous. He knew his father would never allow him to make the climb, and that was part of the reason he had kept this place to himself. He had come across the narrow, rocky path while out looking for strays one day. He’d known there wouldn’t be any strays that far from the main herd, but the day had been beautiful and his horse had wanted to run. Hoss had decided to climb the trail to get a better view of the lake. Finding the valley had been an accident which occurred when he’d tripped over an old root. He’d fallen in just the right direction, if he’d gone in the other he would have fallen over the edge of a cliff.

Hoss’s face was red, and he was puffing by the time he walked into the valley. Missy was there already skipping stones across a small pond. Today she was wearing a red and white checkered dress. Her long hair was flowing loosely, and, to his delight, she wore no shoes. Hoss quickly took off his boots, shed his socks, and together they headed for the waterfall and more secrets.

Chapter 3

Hoss stood back from the pool where he and Missy had spent most of the afternoon, and leaning back against a rock he watched her for several minutes. Just now she was concentrating very hard on trying to catch a pollywog, oblivious to the way the bright sunlight shone down on her blonde hair, turning it almost the color of a wheat field at harvest time. Hoss still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him. She didn’t look sick, and he wondered if maybe she’d been teasing him after all. Still he’d noticed the way she had to stop every once in a while to catch her breath and he could see the slight flush on her cheeks. Suddenly, his heart felt heavy, and he turned away from her for a moment. Once again, he thought of telling his pa about his new friend. His pa knew a lot of people and maybe he had heard of a doctor that might be able to help Missy. Thinking of his pa reminded him of home and what was there waiting for him. Suddenly needing to chase away his unpleasant thoughts, he jumped up and without warning plunged into the cold water. He came up spluttering, teeth chattering, and grinned at Missy’s shocked expression, but his face matched her own a moment later when she too leapt in, clothes and all. Her delighted scream as she hit the water had him laughing, and after a few minutes of splashing each other they pulled themselves out of the sparkling pool.

Hoss’s feet were barely on the shore when Missy grabbed his arm. “Come on,” she said.

The sun worked to take away some of the chill as they followed a narrow, crooked path along the creek that fed the small waterfall. The icy water flowed swiftly down over large, smooth rocks, and Hoss figured the water must come directly from the snowcapped mountain peaks. They had been walking for quite a while, and Hoss was starting to wonder if there was ever going to be an end to this climb when they came over the top of a large boulder, and he gasped at the scene before him. They were high, higher than he had ever been before, and the view was magnificent. Endless mountains circled majestically around the giant, blue lake near where he’d lived all his life. He’d always appreciated its beauty, but up here it was more than beautiful—it was heavenly, and he felt close to Heaven as he looked out at the scene.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Missy spoke softly beside him.

Hoss nodded, his eyes fixed on the water that continued to sparkle like diamonds.

“Just wait til the sun starts to set.”

Missy’s words caused Hoss to jerk to attention, and his eyes snapped to where the sun was now almost touching the tips of the mountains. His heart sank as he realized there was no way he would make it home in time for supper.

“Is something wrong?” Missy asked, looking at him in concern.

Hoss almost blurted out that he needed to leave but, at the last minute, managed to hold himself back. A small part of him was starting to rebel at the idea of telling her he needed to hurry back because his pa was waiting.

“Don’t you need to get home . . . before it gets dark I mean?” he asked instead.

“Oh my grandpa won’t be expecting me back for hours yet,” she answered pleasantly.

Hoss dropped his eyes unsure of what to say next, but Missy provided him a way out.

“I am a little cold though,” she said. “I should probably get back and warm up.”

Hoss looked up gratefully, and she gave him a small smile. He wondered if maybe she had guessed at his predicament, but she surprised him a moment later when, instead of turning back toward the path, she headed for the creek.

“I thought you said . . .” Hoss started.

“This way is faster,” she replied and sitting down in the creek inched toward the spot where the water started to flow a little faster and a little deeper. Hoss guessed what she had in mind, and his eyes grew round, as he opened his mouth to protest, but she interrupted him again.

“We’re already wet,” she said, reaching out her hand. “Come on.”

Whether it was the merry twinkle in her eyes, or the way she held out her hand so beguilingly, Hoss wasn’t sure, but a few minutes later they both landed with a giant splash in the small pool below. He let out a loud whoop as his head resurfaced, and Missy laughed.

Moments later, barefoot, freezing, and soaking wet they bounded into the valley. Hoss quickly grabbed up his boots and turned to say goodbye.

“You’ll come again tomorrow, won’t you?” Missy asked just before he had a chance to say anything.

Hoss hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to expect once he got back home, but after looking into Missy’s pleading eyes, he knew what his answer would be regardless.

With a nod and a wave, he turned and hurried as fast as he dared on the climb down. The light was already starting to fade as he mounted his horse and headed for home, and the sun had been down for a good twenty minutes by the time he entered his yard. He glanced anxiously toward the house, and for the first time that he could remember, the soft light spilling from the windows didn’t seem welcoming. He hopped down and started to lead his horse toward the barn when a voice stopped him.

“Let me take him for ya,” said Charlie, one of their long time ranch hands. “You better get in there. Your pa’s already got a few men out lookin’ for ya, and he said he’d be joinin’ them as soon as he got the little one in bed.”

As Charlie took the reins, Hoss could tell from the look of sympathy in the man’s eyes that his worry was showing on his face. With his horse being taken care of, he was out of reasons for delay, and his heart pounded in his chest as he headed for the door. He had a list of sins for which to account, but only a few that he was willing to admit, and as he reached for the knob he unconsciously pulled the walls a little tighter around his heart and the secrets he kept there.

Chapter 4

Hoss lay on his bed, his hands behind his head, watching as moonlit shadows crossed his ceiling. He’d been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but there was so much going on inside his head and inside his heart. With a heavy sigh, he sat up and swung his feet to the floor. The conversation he’d had earlier with his father kept repeating itself over and over . . .

“Son, this isn’t like you.”

Hoss hung his head, he didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t be a lie, but he couldn’t keep silent long. At this point his father was more concerned than angry, and he wanted to keep it that way. He struggled for the right words to say. Over the years, he’d watched his older brother play verbal games of cat and mouse with his father more times than he could count, but he didn’t think it was something he could pull of; he wasn’t a quick thinker like Adam was.

“Pa, I just . . . well, it was such a beautiful day, and I got to climbin’ and the lake was shinin’ so pretty. I just lost track of the time.”

His father stood silently, his gaze never wavering, waiting for Hoss to continue, but Hoss didn’t want to push his luck, so he let his flimsy explanation stand on its own. Still his father waited. Hoss could feel the sweat begin to trickle down his back and he began fidgeting nervously with the pockets on his pants. The silence was deafening, and Hoss almost broke, but just as he opened his mouth to speak a small voice sounded from the top of the stairs.

“You’re home,” Little Joe cried joyfully.

Hoss watched with relief as his father spun around. “Young man, I thought I told you to stay in bed.”

“Sorry, Pa, I was worried because . . .”

“You’ll have real cause to worry in a minute if you don’t get back in that bed.”

Little Joe stalked off, mumbling something about nobody ever telling him anything. Hoss knew his little brother well enough to know that he’d probably been driving Pa crazy for hours and he felt a small pang of guilt. Pa turned back to face him then and Hoss knew his temporary reprieve was over.

“Son, are you sure there isn’t anything more you want to tell me?”

Hoss’s breath caught in his throat. This was the question that always led to his demise. He knew that his father expected him to confess anything he’d done that wouldn’t meet approval, but how much did Pa know? Hoss had never before been willing to take the chance that his father might not already know everything, but this time there were things he didn’t want to have to give up. Mustering every ounce of courage he had, he answered.

“No, sir . . . I mean yes, sir . . . I mean, there’s nothin’ else.”

“I see.” Ben nodded and walked toward the small table where he kept his pipe. Hoss continued to watch as his pa struck a match, lit his pipe, and then sat down in Adam’s favorite chair. Hoss moved toward the fireplace as his pa motioned him over and sat gingerly on the edge. His stomach was in knots, and he glanced toward the stairs, longing to be upstairs in his room with all of this already behind him, but his pa’s next words were a surprise.

“Son, if something is bothering you; I want you to know that you can talk to me. I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed a little lost ever since your brother left, but he’s not the only one that can listen, you know.”

Hoss smiled weakly; the little boy inside of him desperately wanted to jump into his pa’s embrace, tell him all his troubles, and ask him all his questions, but the part of him that was becoming a man held him back. His pa, unlike Adam, had the power to take away his new found freedom and his new friend, and Hoss wasn’t willing to take that risk.

“Really, Pa, I wasn’t payin’ close enough attention. I’m real sorry I was late.”

Hoss forced himself to meet his father’s gaze and hold it.

“All right then. I won’t say anything more about it, this time. Just see that you give more attention to the time in the future. I don’t pay our ranch hands to spend their time looking for you, not to mention the fact that your little brother hardly ate a bite of his supper, he was so worried about you.”

Hoss nodded, feeling ashamed, and after a short goodnight he headed up the stairs.

Sitting on the sill of his open window, Hoss allowed the cooling breeze to wash over him, relieving some of the discomfort of the summer evening’s heat. He wished it could also cool his searing conscience. After he’d gotten upstairs, he’d ducked into Little Joe’s room to say goodnight, but mostly to see if he could find out why their teacher had been there. Pa hadn’t mentioned him, and Hoss was more curious than relieved at that point. It had turned out that it had just been a social call. Apparently their teacher had been making the rounds, visiting the families of all the school children, and making sure they would be returning for the next school term. Hoss had questioned Little Joe carefully, and once he was sure the teacher hadn’t mentioned his absence he had bidden Joe goodnight.

“So why do I feel so miserable?” he asked himself, as he closed his little brother’s door behind him.

He crossed the room and opened the door, sticking his head out into the hall. The soft light coming from downstairs let him know his pa was still awake. His stomach was rumbling, but his pa hadn’t mentioned anything about getting something to eat. With a sigh, he closed the door again, and crossing the room he flopped down on his bed. He knew he should be grateful that missing out on supper was his only punishment, but he didn’t feel grateful—just guilty and confused and torn. His thoughts turned suddenly to Missy and the wonderful afternoon they had spent together: an afternoon of no expectations, no responsibilities—just the sun, the wind, and peaceful companionship.

“She can’t die,” he pleaded silently into the dark. “She just can’t.”

Chapter 5

“Hoss, wake up,” Little Joe shouted as he bounded into his brother’s room.

Hoss groaned as his bedroom door slammed against the wall, and then yelped a moment later when Joe’s knees landed hard on his stomach.

“Little Joe, I hate it when you do that.”

“Sorry, I forgot, but you gotta get up now. Pa says we’re goin’ to town.”

The excitement in Little Joe’s voice was contagious, and Hoss sat up quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Little Joe scooted to the end of his bed bouncing on his knees as he waited for Hoss to get up.

“What are we goin’ into town for?” He asked his wide-eyed little brother.

Little Joe scrunched up his face as he tried to recall. “To pick up supplies and to go to the bank and Pa wants a haircut. Him not me, we’re gonna mail Adam’s letters, and guess what? Pa said we can get lunch at the hotel, and then we’re gonna go over and see Zeke’s new horses.”

Hoss had been pulling on his clothes during Little Joe’s recitation and looked up suddenly. If they were going all the way to Zeke’s farm, they wouldn’t get back home again until almost supper time. He tuned out his little brother’s chatter as he looked out his window at the mountains where he knew Missy would be waiting. He felt torn by his desire to go with his family and the conflicting promise he had made.

Finally making his decision, he turned back to his brother. “Hey, Little Joe.”

The youngster ignored him and continued spouting off all the other exciting things they were going to do that day.

“Joe, I ain’t goin’.”

That got Little Joe’s attention, and the small boy stopped looking stricken. “What do ya mean? Pa said you’re not in trouble; I asked him.”

“I just can’t today is all,” Hoss answered with a shrug. He turned away from his brother to continue dressing, so he wouldn’t have to see the look of hurt on the boy’s face.

“Hoss, you said we were gonna have fun once school was out and that we’d go fishin’ and campin’ and all kinds of stuff, but . . .”

“We’ll do all that stuff, Little Joe. Just not today.”

Little Joe stuck out his lower lip and crossed his arms across his chest. Hoss could tell his younger brother wasn’t far from losing his temper, so he added quickly. “We’ll go fishin’ tomorrow, okay. I’ll take you to that spot I told ya about way past the creek.”

“The one you and Adam found last spring?” All signs of unhappiness had vanished from the little boy’s face, and Hoss breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yep, that’s the one.”

Little Joe let out a whoop, jumped off the bed, and then ran out the door. Hoss couldn’t help but smile, though as he turned once again toward his window, he felt just a hint of resentment creep in toward the young girl that was causing him to miss out on a fun day with his pa and brother.

“Oh, what in tarnation’s wrong with me?” he chided himself.

His conflicting emotions were causing him to become increasingly frustrated. He sat down by his window and listened for a moment as the leaves fluttered in the breeze. He thought of Missy and what she had told him, and then he thought of Little Joe and the disappointment that had been on his face.

“Missy’s only got this summer,” he told himself. “Little Joe is just gonna have to wait.”

It hadn’t occurred to Hoss that his pa might not allow him to stay home, but now as he sat at the breakfast table the frown on Pa’s face caused him to worry. He hadn’t exactly lied when he’d said that he wasn’t feeling up to going into town. He wasn’t; he had other things he wanted to do.

“Hoss, I’m not sure I like the idea of you staying here by yourself all day, especially if you’re not feeling well.”

Hoss knew that Hop Sing had been planning to spend a few days in town and was leaving right after breakfast. He had never stayed home completely alone for an entire day before, but something inside of him chafed at the idea of his pa being worried.

“I’m not a baby, Pa,” he said and winched as the words came out harsher than he’d intended. “I mean I’ll be just fine. I don’t need no one to look after me.”

Pa looked somewhat surprised at his tone, but seemed to be considering his words. “Son, I know you can take care of yourself, but it’s nice to have someone around when you’re sick.”

Hoss nodded and mumbled an apology as his stomach tightened. His pa was getting the wrong idea, and what’s more, Little Joe had taken up pouting again. He was starting to feel guilty, and the day had hardly begun.

“It’s all right, son,” Pa said after a moment. “You can stay here. I’ll ask Hop Sing to leave you something for lunch and supper. Zeke had asked us to eat at his house, so it will be pretty late before we get back. If you need anything, you can ask Charlie. He said he would be around today.”

Hoss nodded again. “Thanks, Pa.” He looked down at his plate but didn’t feel much like eating and spent the next few minutes pushing eggs and potatoes around his plate. He looked up suddenly when he felt a cool hand against his forehead.

“Son, are you sure you’re going to be okay? I could cancel our plans and stay home if you like.”

Hoss shook his head rapidly as his father withdrew his hand. “It’s all right, Pa. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry none.”

A half hour later Hoss watched from the window as Little Joe and his pa rode out with the buckboard. He gave a loud sigh of relief and then headed into the kitchen to pack some food. His feelings of guilt were lessening now that his family was out of sight, and when he entered the kitchen and saw a freshly baked apple pie sitting on the stove top, he forgot all about his uncomfortable morning.

Twenty minutes later, he finished filling his canteen from the well and mounted his horse. The day was hot, but there were clouds in the sky, and a soft breeze was blowing, and he knew it would be cooler once he got higher up in the mountains. The birds were singing sweetly, and the squirrels were busy chattering as he made his way toward the hidden valley. It was going to be a wonderful day.

Chapter 6

Once again, Missy beat Hoss to the valley. By the time he got there, he was winded from the steep climb and stopped for a few minutes to catch his breath. He watched the young girl prance around in the ankle-length grass. Every once in a while she would stop to pick a flower and add it to the collection in her hand, but it was what she did in between the picking that caused him to smile. She would raise her arms to the sky and twirl causing her dress to whirl around her and then plop down letting the folds of fabric surround her. Hoss continued to watch until finally she slipped and tumbled over backward. He laughed as he rushed over, but as he bent to help her up, he suddenly became concerned. Her chest was heaving, her breath sounded raspy as she sucked in air, and her cheeks were flaming.

“Missy, you all right?” he questioned reaching to help her sit up.

She nodded and managed a weak smile. Hoss stood by her side uncertain of what to do next when it occurred to him that she might need water, and he quickly pulled out his canteen. Missy looked up gratefully as held the water out to her, and he watched with satisfaction as she took a good long drink. She wiped her mouth after that, handed him the canteen, then cocked her head as she looked up at him.

“That was fun,” she said with a grin.

For just a moment she reminded him of his little brother the time he had jumped out of the loft in their barn onto a pile of hay below. Hoss had thought for sure his heart was going to beat out of his chest, but Little Joe had grinned and laughed just like Missy. Hoss wanted to chide the girl for scaring him, but he was distracted when she stood and began to brush the grass from her dress. The dress, he guessed, was about five sizes too big.

“Missy, what . . .”

“It was my mother’s,” she answered. “Isn’t it beautiful? I just had to wear it today. Today is her . . . was her birthday.”

Hoss dropped his eyes. “Has she been gone long?” he asked after a moment.

“Almost two years.”

Hoss looked up then. “Two years?” he questioned. His stepmother, the only mother he’d ever known, had died almost two years ago. “My Ma did too,” he said softly.

“Well, then they must know each other,” Missy answered brightly. “You know, I’ll bet they’re best friends just like we are.”

Hoss thought about her words for a moment. He’d never had a best friend before, but he liked the sound of it, and somehow, thinking of Missy’s mother together with his own, made him feel close to this young girl beside him. When he looked up, Missy was watching him so intently that he started to feel a little nervous.

“Did you check on the babies yet?” he asked hoping to distract her. It worked instantly, and Missy turned toward their hidden waterfall.

“Not yet, I was waiting for you.”

“Well, let’s go then.”

The two young people talked easily as they climbed toward the waterfall. The day before, Missy had showed Hoss a spot over the edge of some rocks near the fall where a quail was sitting on a nest. She had apparently been checking every day for weeks to see whether they had hatched yet or not.

They were nearing the bushes that parted to reveal the waterfall when a hawk suddenly took flight from the ground in front of them. They stopped startled, and Hoss’s eyes traveled to where the bird had just been. His eyes fell on an unfortunate scene, and he knew Missy had seen it too when she gasped.

“Oh, Hoss.”

Before he could say anything, she ran toward the still form on ground and knelt down beside the quail, tenderly stroking its soft feathers.

“It’s her,” she said, looking up through mournful eyes.

Hoss was trying to think of what to say when Missy sprang up and headed toward the falls. He watched for a moment in confusion and then felt his heart leap into his throat as Missy quickly scampered over the edge. Forcing his legs to come to life, he ran toward where she had just disappeared and looked over the side. Missy was already standing on the small ledge where the mother quail had laid her nest, and her nimble feet were balanced precariously as she scooped up what looked to be tiny bits of fuzz.

“Missy, what in tarnation do you think you’re doin’?”

“I’ve almost got them all,” she called up to him. “There’s just one more hiding in this crack.”

Hoss shifted on his knees nervously as she contorted her body into an awkward position to try and reach the tiny bird. It wasn’t a terribly long way down from where Missy was standing, but the rocks on the bottom were sharp, and Hoss instinctively knew that the young girl was almost as fragile as the baby birds she was trying to save.

“Got it,” she cried, and Hoss breathed a sigh of relief. He watched as she tucked the helpless creatures into a fold of her dress which she formed into a carrier. Then with only one free hand, she started to climb back up. She was almost to the top before the sound of rocks slipping reached his ears, and she gave a frightened gasp. She looked up at him, her large blue eyes full of fear, and Hoss’s heart nearly stopped beating. Missy reached up for him just as he lunged for her, and he caught her hand. He grunted as her feet slipped away from the rocks, leaving him holding her full weight. She wasn’t nearly as heavy as some of the sacks and bales he lifted back home, but he was in an awkward position. Grabbing hold of her arm with his other hand, he managed to pull her up by sliding backward.

For several minutes neither one spoke as they worked to catch their breath. Finally they both moved into a sitting position, and Hoss looked Missy over. She had a small scratch on her cheek, and her breath was wheezy again, but other than that she appeared to be fine. He then watched in concern as she carefully opened the fold of her dress.

Four of the baby birds had been killed during Missy’s climb, and over the next few hours they sat in silent sympathy waiting to see if the other three would make it. Hoss got up frequently to look for bugs to feed the little creatures, but only one of them seemed interested in the small beetles and grasshoppers that he caught, and he wasn’t surprised when the other two died. Missy sat almost unmoving the entire time with the tiny birds cupped in her hands. It wasn’t until Hoss gently took from her the two that had died and buried them in a small hole that she got up.

She clutched the one remaining chick tightly to her chest. “We can’t let this one die,” she said. “It’s much closer to my house than it is to yours. Will you come with me?”

Hoss looked up at the position of the sun and figured that he still had plenty of time. His pa probably wouldn’t be home until sometime after dark.

“Sure,” he answered. “I’ll catch more bugs along the way. That one’s got an appetite like I do.”

For the first time in hours Missy smiled, and Hoss felt much better as he quickly gathered their things.

Chapter 7

Twenty minutes later the two arrived in the front yard of Missy’s home. It was clean but sparse, and most of the various structures strewn about the property were in desperate need of repair. Hoss’s eyes automatically traveled to the roof, and he was glad to see that it, at least, was in good condition.

“My grandpa paid someone to come and fix it,” Missy said coming up beside him. “Your pa said that fixing up the place was all the rent he wanted. I know it doesn’t look like much yet, but grandpa’s going to hire someone soon.”

Hoss gave her a nod and ran her words over in his mind. An idea was coming to him. One that might solve a few of his problems and help ease his conscience. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get home to talk to his pa.

Hoss stood back allowing Missy to push the door open, and as he entered the house he looked around with wide-eyed wonder. He had been to this house years ago, but it looked nothing like he remembered it. The walls had all been painted in bright colors, and decorative curtains fluttered gently with the breeze coming from open windows. Thick ornate rugs and several large paintings added even more color. Sunlight shone through the open windows; its gentle rays casting a warm glow across everything they touched. Benches, stools, and chairs were all adorned with plush pillows, and there were vases full of flowers scattered throughout the tiny kitchen and cozy sitting room. Hoss’s eyes quickly scanned the two rooms, and his eyes came to rest on a small kitchen table covered with a lacy top which held a plate full of cookies, and on a nearby window sill sat a large pie.

“Wow,” he said. “Don’t know why you’d ever want to leave a place like this.”

Missy smiled warmly then motioned for Hoss to follow her as she headed over to a tall cupboard in a corner of the kitchen.

“There should be a basket in there,” she said keeping the baby quail held close to her body. “Hurry, he’s starting to tremble.”

Hoss quickly opened the cupboard and after a minute or two of rummaging came out with a sturdy looking basket.

“We should put something soft in it,” Missy said looking about the room. Hoss followed her movements, and it was then that he saw a man asleep in a comfortable looking chair near the fireplace. “I think there’s some straw out in the barn.” Missy continued calling back his attention.

“I’ll go get it,” Hoss said. “Be back in a minute.” Hoss couldn’t help but stare as he made his way out the door. He figured the man with his snow white hair and mustache must be Missy’s grandfather, but she hadn’t as yet offered any introduction. Once outside he quickly trotted toward the broken down barn and noted with some puzzlement the lack of animals about the place. There wasn’t even so much as a chicken, and he wondered where they got their food. The inside of the barn creaked as he entered, and the stale smell of old hay and rotting wood reached his nose. Crossing to an open stall, he was glad to see a pile of straw. He dug through to the middle looking for the cleanest straw, and grabbing a good sized handful, ran back to the house. As he opened the door, he noticed Missy working to light the stove.

“Here, let me do that,” he said trading the straw for her matches.

Within minutes there fire was crackling and soon he could feel warmth radiating from the coal black stove. Missy finished settling the straw in the basket and then added bits of brightly colored flannel from a sewing box sitting nearby. She set the basket on a small stool, scooted it near the stove, and then gently placed the tiny bird inside.

“I better go collect some more bugs,” Hoss said. “Do you have a jar or somethin’ I can put them in?”

Missy quickly got him a small, glass canning jar out of the cupboard, and Hoss spent the next thirty minutes or so collecting an assortment of fat, crawly insects. He’d been right about the little bird having a hearty appetite, and Hoss was glad that bugs were in vast supply this time of year.

Missy had just finished pouring them each a glass of milk when her grandfather stirred, dropping a glass that must have been sitting in his lap. Hoss looked over and noticed the tall, almost empty whisky bottle sitting on a table next to him. The man started snoring softly, and Hoss turned to Missy. He was surprised to see her looking at him adoringly.

She turned to Hoss and said with a soft sigh, “Isn’t he wonderful?”

Hoss couldn’t help it when his eyebrows rose high enough to touch his hairline. Wonderful wasn’t quite the word he’d been thinking of just then. “Is he always like that?” he asked.

“Oh, not always,” Missy answered happily. “Only on Thursdays. My grandmother and my own mother died on a Thursday, you see.”

She handed Hoss a cookie and sipped her milk as if what she’d said was the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey, Missy,” he said after grabbing another cookie. “Where do you get your food from? I didn’t even see any chickens outside.”

“My grandpa goes into town every week and buys what we need from the mercantile. We’re going tomorrow. Would you like to come?”

Hoss wanted very badly to say yes, but remembered at the last minute that he had promised Little Joe a fishing trip.

“I can’t tomorrow,” he said. “I promised my little brother I’d do somethin’ with him.”

Missy looked disappointed for a moment but then brightened once again.

“Well, you’ll stay for supper, won’t you? We’re having raspberry pie, blueberry muffins, and mashed potatoes.”

For some reason, Hoss wasn’t surprised at her food choices, and he had to admit, that it sounded much better than the beans and cornbread Hop Sing had left for him to heat up. Glancing out the window at the sun, he mentally calculated how long it would take him to eat and then get home. Satisfied that he would have enough time, he gave Missy a beaming smile and agreed to stay.

Hoss helped Missy to peel potatoes and stirred while she added ingredients to a large bowl for the muffins. They decided to wait outside while the muffins cooked, and Hoss watched as Missy tenderly tucked a small blanket over her grandpa’s knees before they left. It was getting pretty warm in the kitchen, and Missy decided they should take the little bird outside with them.

“Isn’t he cute?” she asked after they’d walked around the yard for a while. “Just look at that little tuft of hair on top of his head.”

Hoss nodded. “That’s gonna be his curlicue when he grows up.”

“Curlicue,” she repeated in fascination. “That’s what we’ll call him, Hoss. Curlicue.”

Hoss laughed as the little creature suddenly cheeped. “Guess he likes his name.” Hoss raised his head then and sniffed the air. “Hey, you smell that?”

“Muffins must be done,” Missy replied, and the threesome made their way back inside to enjoy a feast, the comforts of home, and the joys of friendship.

Chapter 8

Dear Adam,
I’ve got a job!

Hoss sat back on his bed and looked over his letter again. He’d talked to his pa at the breakfast table that morning, letting him know that Mr. Clark was looking to hire someone to fix things up around his place. He’d held his breath waiting as his father pursed his lips then leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. He’d taken his time answering and Hoss had thought for sure he was going to say no when he finally did speak.

“That’s a big responsibility, son.”

“I know that, Pa, but you and Adam done taught me all about ranchin’, and I can build a fence, coop, or pen faster and better than most of them greenhorns you hired in the spring.”

Hoss noted the way the corners of his pa’s lips twitched and the sparkle in his eye, but there was no humor in his voice, only firmness, and maybe concern.

“I know that you think you know how to do all those things, Hoss, but you’re forgetting that either your brother or I were always close by in case you needed a hand, or forgot something. If you take this job, there won’t be anyone to check up on you and mistakes can cost a man a lot of money, not to mention the possibility of causing someone harm.”

Hoss’s shoulder’s sagged as if his father’s words had flown over and settled themselves there, but the possibility of being able to spend time with his new friend and with a clear conscience to boot, gave him courage, and sitting up straight, he met his father’s eyes.

“Pa, just give me a chance. I’ll remember all the things you taught me, and I know I can do a good job.”

His pa had stared hard at him for a few uncomfortable minutes, but then his features softened and he smiled. “Okay, son, if Mr. Clark agrees then I’m willing to give you a chance. I’m curious how you found out about the job though?”

Hoss froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. He was furiously wracking his brain for an answer when Little Joe inadvertently saved the day by spilling his milk. The cold liquid splashed right into his father’s lap and that ended any further conversation during that meal. Hoss breathed a sigh of relief, and made a mental note to do something extra nice for his little brother later.

Hoss looked up as he heard the patter of little feet in the hallway and quickly stuffed the letter under his pillow. He’d spent a long time that morning writing to Adam about all that was happening lately. For some reason, it was easier for him to write out what he was thinking and feeling than it was to try and say the words out loud. As he wrote, he’d wondered absently who his older brother had gone to whenever he’d needed to talk. Hoss didn’t want to take the chance of his letter being read so he hadn’t even told anyone he was writing it.

“Are ya ready, Hoss?” Little Joe said entering the room like a sudden storm. Fast as lightening and noisy as thunder.

“Yep, just gotta get our gear and the lunch Hop Sing packed and we’ll be all ready?”

“Can I saddle the horses this time?”

“You can help.”

Little Joe crossed his arms as he pushed out his lower lip. “Ah nuts, why don’t anyone ever let me do anything by myself?”

“’Cause you’re just a shrimp that’s why.” Hoss jumped off his bed and took off toward the stairs at a run. Joe gleefully chased after him, loudly protesting his brother’s choice of words.

When the two arrived in the kitchen out of breath and giggling, Hop Sing looked up from the table where he was peeling peaches for a pie and shook his head. “You little boys no run in house. You shake whole house, Hop Sing think earthquake.”

Hoss and Little Joe just laughed and thanking Hop Sing for the lunch left out the side door. It took twice as long to saddle the horses with Little Joe helping, but Hoss was patient and took the time to show his little brother how to check each knot, tie, and buckle just the way Adam had taught him. He didn’t know that his pa had been watching until he came up behind them and laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked at his father and saw that he was smiling.

“You’re really starting to become a man, son, you’re older brother would be proud of you.”

Hoss grinned broadly at the compliment, but a few minutes later, as they steered their horses toward the fishing hole his face was screwed up in puzzlement. In the space of about ten minutes he’d gone from being called a little boy to being called a man, and he’d felt equally comfortable with both labels, but something was telling him that it wouldn’t be long before he had to choose one or the other, and an uneasy feeling was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach. His troubled thoughts were interrupted a moment later when Little Joe turned to him.

“Hey, Hoss, you wanna race?”

“Little Joe, don’t you dare. Pa would skin you alive if he found out you were racing through this part of the forest. The trees are too thick here.”

“Ah, don’t be a chicken. Ready?”

“Joe, I said no!”

“Go.” Little Joe took off so fast that Hoss sat gaping for a moment before he could react. He spurred his horse after his reckless brother who wasn’t content to just go at a fast pace. The small boy purposely guided his horse to every fallen log and small gully within sight, and every time his horse jumped or Joe ducked under a low hanging branch Hoss could feel his stomach clench.

In his heart he pleaded for his little brother’s safety while in his mind he plotted the young boy’s demise. Hoss looked ahead in the direction Little Joe was racing, and his body seized in fear. The boy was headed for a large gully this time, much larger than the others, and the other side of this one was strewn with large rocks.

“Little Joe, don’t,” he shouted.

Chapter 9

Hoss’s heart leapt to his throat as Little Joe swiftly approached the treacherous jump, but at the last moment the boy veered his horse to instead follow the length of the wide gully. Hoss sat trembling for a moment, and then a surge of anger fueled by fear pulsed through him, and he kicked his horse into action. Within moments, he was up alongside his little brother’s heavily breathing horse and reached out grabbing the animal’s headstall. Little Joe pulled back on the reins to stop the weary horse and turned to Hoss in confusion. When he saw the dark look his older brother was wearing, his own face paled.

“Little Joe, you get down off that horse,” Hoss ordered.

Little Joe quietly slipped from the saddle as Hoss dismounted and stormed around the animals to confront his brother.

“What the Sam Hill, do you think you’re doin’? Do you know you ‘bout scared me to death? You’re just lucky Pa wasn’t here to see what you did, although I’ve got half a mind to tell him about it. You could’ve been killed! What have you got to say for yourself?”

Little Joe kept his eyes glued to the ground during his brother’s tirade. Then shrugged and sniffled in answer to his brother’s question.

“Dad-burn it, Little Joe. I’m not gonna be able to breathe right for the rest of the day, and just look at your horse.”

Little Joe swiped a sleeve across his eyes and took a glance at his horse before once again hanging his head.

“Poor thing looks half frightened to death,” Hoss continued relentlessly. “Don’t you even care that he could’ve broken a leg? Just look at him, all covered in sweat and breathin’ hard, and . . .”

Hoss was cut off by the remorseful tone in his brother’s voice as he interrupted. “I’m sorry, Hoss. I just wanted to race; I didn’t mean to hurt the horse. I’m sorry.”

Hoss softened instantly at the sight of large tears tumbling down his brother’s cheeks.

“Ah, Joe, I didn’t mean to yell at ya. You just scared me is all, but you gotta think before you do things. How would you feel if somethin’ had happened to your horse?”

“Bad.”

Hoss laid a hand on his brother’s small shoulder. “And how do you think I would feel or Pa, if somethin’ had happened to you?”

“Real bad.”

“Yeah we would.” Hoss patted Little Joe’s shoulder and then in an effort to lighten the mood, gave him a playful push. “We’ve gotten kind of used to havin’ you around, you know?”

Little Joe’s head shot up, and he studied Hoss’s face for a moment before giving a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry I scared ya,” he said giving his brother a quick hug. “You still wanna go fishin’ with me?”

Hoss pursed his lips and rolled his eyes upward in thought for a moment. “’Course, I do,” he answered then smiled at the way Little Joe’s face brightened. “Come on; that special spot I told ya about is only a little ways from here.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent fishing, splashing, giggling, and eating as the two boys enjoyed their time together, and later, when they headed home it was at a much more moderate pace, although there were a few times Hoss felt sure Little Joe was going to wiggle himself right out of the saddle.

The next morning, Hoss took his time tying his horse to the outside rail, then taking a deep breath he headed for the front door of Missy’s home. He had left the ranch before it was light out, without breakfast or even waiting to inform his father. He had, however, left a note at his pa’s place at the table, to let him know that he wanted to get an early start on his new job, and at this particular moment, he was hoping desperately that he would in fact have a new job to start.

He didn’t actually know anything about Missy’s grandfather other than the fact that the young girl seemed to adore him, and that on occasion he drank himself into a stupor. Hoss stopped in front of the door, and as he raised his hand to knock he hoped that he wouldn’t be waking anybody at this early hour. He gave the door a solid wrap and then stood back, rocking on his heels as he waited anxiously. When no one answered, he raised his hand to knock once again, but before his knuckles hit the door he was startled by a strong, baritone voice from behind him.

“She’s not home. Been gone since the sun came up.”

Hoss gasped and whirled around. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to . . . I was just . . . I mean . . . “

The white-haired man chuckled and set the load of wood he was carrying in the wood box near the door. “You must be Hoss,” he said extending a hand.

“Yes sir,” Hoss gulped then closed his mouth as his hand was clasped tightly. For an older man, Sam Clark’s grip was solid and strong, and his eyes seemed to twinkle in that same mischievous way that Missy’s did.

He clapped Hoss on the back and opened the door, motioning for him to enter. “No need to bother with the sir,” he said. “You can call me Buddy.”

“Thank you, sir, I mean . . . Buddy.” Hoss ducked his head shyly as rubbed his palms up and down against his vest. “Well, sir, uhhh Buddy, I just came to ask ya . . . what I mean is . . .” Hoss took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Getting this job meant a lot to him, and he didn’t want to lose his chance by sounding like a simpleton. “Missy mentioned that you were thinkin’ of hiring someone to do repairs around the place. I’m out of school for the summer, and I was hopin’ you’d consider me for the job. I’m real strong, and I’ve been ranchin’ most of my life. I’m sure I’ll . . .”

Hoss stopped, his stomach sinking when the older man held up his hands. “Whoa, son, now just hold on a minute. I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet. Would you care to join me for a bit of breakfast while I think things over?”

Buddy smiled then, and Hoss breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed. “I sure would,” he answered. Hoss sat down at the table and waited while Missy’s grandfather set out cups and pulled a hot coffee pot from the back of the stove.

“You like cream and sugar?” Buddy asked. Hoss nodded then suddenly stiffened as his stomach gave a noisy rumble. Buddy laughed a hearty joyful sound, and Hoss couldn’t help but join in. He was beginning to see where Missy got her easygoing manner, and he found himself liking the older man in spite of the opinions he had formed on his previous visit.

Buddy pulled a pan of cornbread out of the oven, set it on the table then rummaged around in the large corner cupboard until he found some honey.

“You know you’re all my granddaughter talks about lately,” he said after handing Hoss a small plate. Hoss fidgeted and looked cautiously at the man. He knew his own father wouldn’t approve of him spending so much time alone with a girl, and he worried that maybe Missy’s grandfather felt the same way, but then the man chuckled and continued. “Well, you and that ornery little cricket cruncher she’s taken such a shine to.”

Hoss gave the man a grin. “You mean Curlicue?” he asked.

“Yes, tenacious little thing and noisier than a flock of magpies . . . he’s good for her, though.” As the man’s tone softened, Hoss looked up from his food, and this time Buddy’s face was series. “You’re both good for her,” Buddy said.

Hoss swallowed hard at the look of sadness that had fallen over the man’s face, and, whether he truly wanted it or not, he felt his heart bind to this man. For they shared something valuable, something that wasn’t going to last forever, but something well worth the pain they knew was coming.

Chapter 10

Several weeks later, the sun beat down heavily as Hoss labored to rip away the rotting shingles from the barn roof. Missy’s grandpa had agreed to give Hoss a chance to prove himself, and so far the repairs had gone flawlessly. Old fencing had been replaced with freshly cut poles, the well handle had been repaired, the front yard had been cleared of brush, and the chicken coup was standing solid, just waiting for a flock of noisy birds to make their home. Hoss had decided to save the barn for last since it was the biggest structure. The inside of the building was large, but it had only one story, so Hoss hadn’t worried about trying to repair the roof by himself.

He paused to wipe the sweat from his eyes and grinned at Missy who was sitting on the edge of the low hanging roof swinging her legs back and forth. She stopped and held her feet out in front of her, wiggling her toes in the sunshine.

“Don’t you ever wear shoes?” Hoss asked with a chuckle.

“Only when I have to.”

Hoss grinned. That answer meant that she most likely never wore shoes. In the short span of time Hoss had spent with Missy and her grandpa, he had never known Buddy to make her do anything, and while Buddy didn’t necessarily go out of his way to spoil his granddaughter, there was never a request he refused her. Thankfully, Missy wasn’t hard to please. She and Hoss shared a love of the outdoors and all the amazing splendor that nature had to offer, so Buddy made sure that Hoss and Missy had plenty of time each day to visit their meadow. Hoss took great delight in arriving for work early each morning, and the first thing he did was take off his boots and leave them on the front porch.

His bare feet were not serving him well on the roof, however, and he winced when a sliver of wood made its way into his heel.

“Dad-blame it,” he said sitting down to wrestle out the good-sized splinter.

Missy giggled, and he glared at her which only caused her to laugh louder. “I love it when you use words like that,” she said.

“Can’t say I do,” Hoss said. “Seems like every time I use one, somethin’ bad is happening.”

Missy grinned and pulled her knees into her chest. “Hoss, how come you’ve never asked me?”

“Asked you what?”

“Why I’m dying.”

Hoss’s eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t look up as he continued to dig at the splinter. “I guess I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to.”

Missy sighed softly before answering. “I don’t mind talking about it sometimes,” she said. “I guess it’s got something to do with my blood being weak. It’s what my mother died of and my grandmother too.”

Hoss’s breath caught in his throat, and his vision suddenly grew watery.

“Is that sliver hurting you?” Missy asked in concern.

Hoss shook his head and swiped at his eyes. “Just hot up here, I reckon.”

“Buddy better take a look at it anyway,” she said and then scrambled to the ladder.

Hoss had found it amusing that Missy called her grandfather Buddy, but nothing about the young girl really surprised him anymore. She spoke her thoughts as randomly as they appeared in her mind, and she lived her life the same way, on impulse and whim. Hoss had sensed that the only thing keeping her from being shallow and spoiled was her tender nature.

Hoss climbed down the ladder right behind Missy and limped on the ball of his foot inside the house.

“Buddy,” Missy called out. “Hoss has a bad splinter.”

“Well, that won’t do,” the man said coming out from a small bedroom off the living room. He had Hoss sit in a chair as he examined the wound. “I’ll need my bag,” he told Missy and the young girl left quickly to retrieve it.

She came back a moment later with a black bag that looked to Hoss a lot like the one Doc Martin carried. Buddy rummaged around in the bag and withdrew a small bottle of liquid and the tiniest knife Hoss had ever seen.

“This will sting for just a minute,” Buddy said, and Hoss tried not to wince as the man quickly made a cut and then pulled out the offending piece of wood. Hoss blinked away the tears that sprang to his eyes when Buddy rubbed the wound with alcohol and then covered it with a bandage.

Closing his bag Buddy folded his arms and shifted his gaze between Hoss and his granddaughter. “All right,” he said, “I prescribe an afternoon of relaxation, and by that I mean I want you two to go catch some nice big trout for supper.”

“I’ll get the poles,” Missy said excitedly, and then made her way out the front door.

Hoss stood up to leave but then paused. “Are you . . .” he asked, turning slightly, “Are you a doctor?”

Buddy picked up the black bag and brushed it off absently. “I was,” he answered after a moment but then looked up. “For all the good it did me.” He sighed then and waved his hand toward the door. “You and Missy go have fun now.”

Hoss watched as Missy grandfather went to the tall corner cupboard in the kitchen and withdrew a bottle of whisky; then grabbing a small glass he headed over to the chair near the fireplace and poured himself a drink.

Hoss left the house, shutting the door tightly behind him. It was Thursday, and he knew that by the time they got back from fishing Buddy would be out for the rest of the night. His mind was overflowing with questions. The biggest one being if Missy’s grandfather was a doctor, why couldn’t he help her? His thoughts were interrupted when Missy called out to him.

“Hoss, I’ve got to get Curlicue, will you carry the poles please?”

Hoss looked up and saw Missy trying to balance two poles, a tackle box, and a can of worms. He laughed, and it was then an idea came to him.

“Missy,” he said, “you sure you wanna go fishin’? I think I’ve got a better idea.”

Chapter 11

During his time spent working, Hoss had seen an old buggy housed in the back of the barn. It wasn’t very big and was light enough for him to be able to pull it out into the yard by himself. Missy exclaimed her excitement over the idea of a buggy ride as she circled the dusty vehicle. It was in a shabby state, but the wheels were sound, and the springs were good. Hoss checked the barn for an oil can while Missy scrounged up some old rags, and between the two of them the buggy was looking almost fit for travel an hour later.

Hoss had noticed that Missy’s breathing was becoming more labored as they continued to work in the hot sun. He’d suggested several times that she go sit in the shade for a while, but the young girl had insisted she was fine. Finally, in a last ditch effort to get her to rest, Hoss said he himself needed a break. He suggested she sit up in the buggy under the canopy; then he trotted over to the well for some water. When he got back, Missy looked exhausted; her cheeks were flushed and sweat had plastered her hair to her neck and face. Hoss quickly handed over the water and then went to collect the horse. He felt sure that once the buggy was moving the breeze would help to cool her off. Missy sat listlessly and watched as he hitched up the horse. Hoss patted the animal, an old dappled mare, and then climbed into the buggy.

“You ready?” he asked.

Missy didn’t answer but pointed to the small box she had set in the shade near the barn.

“Oh, yeah,” Hoss said as he hopped down to collect Curlicue.

It had become obvious shortly after rescuing the tiny chick that it was never going to be a normal quail. One of its tiny legs was twisted so that its foot pointed inward, and one wing stuck out awkwardly regardless of their many efforts to fix it. Buddy had told them that the quail would always struggle to walk and that it would most likely never fly, but Missy hadn’t minded in the least. Curlicue had come under her protection the minute she’d scooped him into her hands that first time, and she took care of him with loving dedication. Everywhere she and Hoss went; Curlicue went with them.

Hoss clucked to the mare, and they took off down the winding road. To his delight and relief, the ride did Missy a world of good, and after a few minutes of having a cooling breeze wash over her, she sat up seeming much revived. She clutched the little box with her beloved pet tightly, and Hoss laughed as the little bird poked its head up to try and see what was going on. The little tuft of hair on his head was beginning to grow longer, and he was starting to trade his baby fuzz for real feathers. For right now though, he looked odd and gangly, and Hoss empathized with him completely.

After a while Missy glanced toward her gallant escort. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Nope, it’s a surprise,” was all he would answer.

Missy sunk down and pretended to pout, but Hoss wouldn’t give in. Under the shade of the buggy’s canopy and with the breeze blowing, the day seemed more pleasant than it had before.

“Oh, look at that,” Missy said suddenly.

Hoss looked to where she was pointing and pulled the buggy to a stop. Only about a dozen yards away, a herd of wild horses were grazing near a small stream. Missy looked out in amazement at the beautiful animals and nearly fell out of the buggy in her excitement over seeing several young colts. Hoss’s gaze had left the herd looking for the lone stallion he knew wouldn’t be too far off. Sure enough, after a moment, he caught sight of it standing up on a hill near a jagged outcropping of rocks. The stallion made a striking figure with its solid black coat glistening under the rays of a hot summer sun. He started to nudge Missy to show her, but figured she’d be more excited if she spotted it for herself. He cleared his throat a few times and made a quick glance in that direction when she turned. It worked, and he was rewarded with her squeal of delight as she pointed out the magnificent animal.

“He’s a beauty, all right,” Hoss said with a chuckle.

He finally convinced Missy to let him continue on with the promise of an even better surprise coming soon, but she kept her head hanging out of the buggy looking back until he turned a corner and the horses were hidden from view. She pulled her head back in with a deep, contended sigh.

“Oh, Hoss. They were so beautiful. You know, I’d love to be able to ride one, just once, before . . .”

She stopped then and suddenly focused her attention on Curlicue. Hoss thought about what she said as they continued on.

“You want to ride a bronc?” he asked after a little while.

“Well, not a real wild one,” she answered. “But I’ve never ridden a horse, except for Sissy there,” she said jutting her chin out toward the mare.

Hoss grinned to himself. He knew he couldn’t find a wild horse that would be safe for her to ride, but he knew of an animal that would be the next best thing, and he was already formulating a plan when they pulled up into the yard of the Devlins.

Missy looked at him curiously, and Hoss, giving her a quick wink, hopped down and sprinted around the buggy to help her down. Mr. Devlin came out from the barn to meet them as Hoss and Missy crossed the yard.

“Well, and what brings you out here, Hoss Cartwright?” the man asked reaching out to shake his hand.

“Mr. Devlin,” Hoss said. “This is my friend and neighbor Melissa Clark, and we’re here to buy some chickens.”

Hoss grinned as Missy gasped beside him and clutched excitedly at his sleeve.

“You better go to the house then,” Mr. Devlin answered. “Chickens are my wife’s department.”

Hoss thanked the man, and then he and Missy headed toward the house. Hoss couldn’t help but notice the curious way Mr. Devlin kept looking between him and Missy, and suddenly he was wondering if this had been such a good idea after all. The Devlin’s were friends of his family; in fact, Mrs. Devlin had been at the Ponderosa the day Little Joe was born, and she and Marie had been close. Hoss hoped Mr. Devlin wouldn’t say anything to his pa about this visit should they happen to cross paths.

Mrs. Devlin greeted them on the porch with her youngest son close on her heels. Hoss smiled at the small boy who reminded him so much of his own young brother. The two little boys were already great friends, and Hoss almost wished he’d been able to bring Little Joe along. Missy was beaming as they headed toward the large coup where Mrs. Devlin maintained a well-stocked flock of chickens. Neighbors from far and wide went to her for most of their poultry needs, and during this time of year she always had plenty of chicks to sell.

Hoss left Missy to make her selections while he went and collected a crate to carry them in, and by the time he got back, Missy had separated her little flock of chicks.

“What do you think, Hoss?” she asked pointing them out proudly.

“I think a dozen is just about right for startin’ off, and they look like good healthy ones.”

Mrs. Devlin interrupted at that statement. “Hoss Cartwright, of course they’re healthy,” she said placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t keep sickly animals.”

Missy glanced with some concern toward the buggy where they could just see the tip of Curlicue’s head peeking out, but when she looked to Hoss he gave her arm a light nudge, and the young girl relaxed.

“Do you have time to come help Mitch and I eat some cold watermelon?” Mrs. Devlin asked after they’d settled the chicks in the crate.

Hoss and Missy both answered with an exuberant yes, and the air was filled with laughter as they headed for the house. Mrs. Devlin walked ahead to get things ready, and Missy reached out to stop Hoss for a moment.

“I didn’t bring any money,” she said with some concern.

“Don’t worry about that,” he answered. “My pa has a credit with them, but I’m plannin’ on bringin’ her the money tomorrow.”

“But, Hoss . . .”

“Nope, no buts. It’s the least a neighbor can do. Helpin’ another one get started.”

Hoss crossed his arms and looked down at the young girl who was smiling from ear to ear with eyes that were shining with gratitude. He shrugged and then grinned shyly. It had been a long time since he had felt as happy as he did right then, and he couldn’t wait to see how she reacted to the next event he was planning.

Chapter 12

Dear Adam,
Things were goin’ real good up until last week . . .

Hoss sighed and then shoved the letter he was working on to the edge of his desk. Somehow, during the swift flow of days—long days spent working or fishing, talking and laughing underneath the golden glow of sunshine, he’d forgotten that Missy was dying. Oh, he’d seen little glimpses of evidence here and there. He’d always managed to push those nagging worries aside, but last Tuesday had changed everything. Missy had seemed listless when he’d arrived that morning. Her usual bright and cheery disposition had seemed muted, and her pallor had been gray. She’d sat in the shade on the porch watching as Hoss went about his work. Normally, she would have been following him about chattering up a storm and making him stop every few minutes to look at the shape of some peculiar cloud or to watch a butterfly as it flit about, but that day she just sat. Hoss had tried not to worry, but a strange foreboding began to creep about his heart. He was nearly done with his repairs. Truth be told, he should have been done long ago, but he’d managed to drag out every task no matter how miniscule to the point where there was almost nothing left to do but pick up his tools and go home.

Tuesday, Hoss had finished up within an hour, checking things over one last time and putting away tools and supplies. When he was finished, he went and sat beside Missy, and the two surveyed his work silently. Every now and then Hoss would glance over at his friend. Her head was leaning against the side of the house and except for little wisps of her hair dancing in the breeze and the gentle stroking of her fingers over Curlicue’s soft feathers, she hadn’t moved since his arrival. It was then that he remembered. He’d turned his gaze back toward the yard where, moments before, he’d taken such pride in his accomplishments; now it all seemed like wasted effort. He turned when he heard Missy adjust herself beside him.

“You’ve finished it just in time,” she said. “Now I feel like I really live here. You’ve made everything so beautiful.”

Hoss worked to swallow the lump in his throat so that he could answer, but the only words he could find were questions.

“Missy, what happened?” he asked. “You seemed just fine yesterday.”

“I got a fever last night,” she answered. “Buddy says that my body just isn’t strong enough to fight things off the way other people’s do.”

Hoss knew from the brightness in Missy’s eyes and the soft splash of red on her cheeks that the fever was still with her.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? I mean don’t your grandpa have some kind of medicine or somethin’?”

Hoss jumped as Curlicue suddenly flapped his wings squawking noisily and, for the first time that day Missy smiled.

“He’s defending Buddy,” she said and then turned her large blue eyes to him—eyes that seemed to plead for understanding. “He knows there’s nothing that can be done.”

Missy had continued to weaken during the next few days and, gradually, Hoss was coming to the realization that his time with her was coming to an end. Now, as he sat in his room trying to think of what to say to his brother, his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he’d kept his friendship with Missy a secret. There’d been times when he’d almost let her name slip as he told of his day, but then he would catch sight of Little Joe’s eager face or his father’s eyebrows raised in question, and he would tell himself, “not just yet.”

The burden though was growing heavier, and the ache inside of him was almost too much to bear. As Hoss gazed at the nearly empty letter, a conversation from long ago came drifting back to him . . .

“Adam, you ain’t got no older brother like I do.” The young boy had waited patiently while Adam shook his head in response. “Who do you talk to then when things need ‘splainin?”

His older brother had chuckled and pulled him close. “That’s what pa’s are for, you knuckle head.”

With that memory still fresh in his mind, Hoss left his room in search of his father, in search of answers, and in search of comfort.

Chapter 13

Hoss woke slowly to the sounds of intrusion: the soft whine of his door being opened, the creak of his floor boards, the padding of small feet on their way toward his bed. Then came the gentle push on his mattress, and he knew without opening his eyes that Little Joe would be leaning across the bed with his little chin resting on cupped hands, but Hoss wasn’t ready to give up the comforts of sleep just yet. He rolled over and pulled his blanket up under his chin. Little Joe, however, was not put off in the least, and a moment later Hoss groaned as he turned to watch his little brother slip under the covers beside him.

“Little Joe, it’s barely even light out yet. Can’t you ever just let me wake up on my own?”

The small boy didn’t answer except to sigh happily and scoot a little closer to his brother. Hoss pulled his pillow out from under his head and slapped it over his face.

“Hey, Hoss?”

Little Joe’s muffled voice made its way through Hoss’s pillow, but he tried with one last vain effort to ignore the little intruder. His younger brother had never been easy to ignore, however, and a moment later Hoss yelped and tossed his pillow across the room as Little Joe’s icy feet slid under his back.

“Joseph, I hate it when you do that! Go get your socks on.”

Little Joe pulled his feet out and sat up hugging his knees to his chest. “Don’t need no socks. I’m not cold.”

“That’s what you think,” Hoss retorted as he got up and stomped across the room to collect his pillow. He fluffed it up as he walked back to the bed, and seeing Little Joe sitting so small and innocent in the middle of his once comfortable haven, he couldn’t resist, and whacked his brother upside the head. Little Joe squealed in delight and immediately took up the challenge by barreling head first into Hoss’s stomach. The boys continued to wrestle for a few minutes until suddenly Little Joe cried out.

Hoss jumped off the bed as Little Joe rubbed his shoulder. “Gee, I’m sorry Little Joe, I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

Hoss sucked in a breath and watched as Little Joe’s face waged a war over whether or not to cry. Finally, the young boy sat up grabbed a pillow and threw it at Hoss. Hoss hadn’t been expecting that, and the pillow hit him square in the face. For some reason Little Joe found that hysterically funny. After he’d quit laughing, he fell onto his back bouncing a few times against the mattress. Hoss shook his head and then joined his brother on the bed. They’d been staring at the ceiling for a few minutes when Little Joe picked up where he’d been interrupted earlier.

“Hey, Hoss?”

This time Hoss answered. “Hey what?”

Little Joe was quiet for a moment, so Hoss turned toward him and noticed that the young boy was studying his face.

“Are you sad?” Little Joe asked.

Hoss hadn’t been, until that moment, but Little Joe’s question brought back to his mind the conversation he’d had with his father the night before and the remembrance of things to come.

Little Joe spoke again softly. “Pa told me you were. He said I should be real nice to you. How come you never told me about Missy?”

Hoss moved his eyes back to the ceiling. His father had asked him the same question—he hadn’t had an answer then, and he didn’t really have one now.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I guess I just liked havin’ somethin’ all to myself, somethin’ I didn’t have to share with no one else.”

“How come you told Pa then?”

Hoss thought about that for a moment before he answered. “I . . . well, I guess, sometimes, carryin’ around a lot of secrets is like totin’ around a big load, and it was getting’ too heavy for me to carry all by myself.”

Hoss turned to look at his brother and could tell from his puzzled expression that he didn’t understand, but to the little Joe’s credit, he remained silent and just accepted his brother’s answer.

“When is she gonna die, Hoss?”

Hoss gasped as the air suddenly rushed from his lungs as if he’d just been hit in the stomach. His heart began to beat fiercely, and it took him several moments to calm himself enough to answer.

“Don’t know,” he said softly, and he was glad when Little Joe once again changed the conversation.

“Do you like her better than me?”

“Nah, I don’t like her better . . . just different,” he answered. “She’s my best friend.”

Hoss could feel Little Joe’s eyes on him, but he continued to stare up at a knothole on the ceiling. When Little Joe did speak again, his voice was real low, and Hoss hoped he hadn’t hurt the boy’s feelings. He was surprised when he felt Little Joe’s small hand come to rest on top of his.

“I’ll be your best friend if you want. . . when she’s gone.”

Hoss swallowed back the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. He knew his little brother was trying to comfort him, but as much as he appreciated the effort the young boy’s words weren’t helping. He decided it was time to change the subject.

“Hey, I smell oatmeal,” Hoss said.

“Oatmeal?” Joe squeaked. “You can’t smell oatmeal, it don’t smell like nothing.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I say it’s oatmeal, and if I’m right, it’s got just a touch of brown sugar and . . . and cinnamon.”

“Let’s go see,” Little Joe said excitedly as he jumped off the bed.

“You’d better get dressed first,” Hoss shouted after him and then chuckled as the boy quickly changed his direction from the stairs toward his room.

“I’ll race ya,” Little Joe hollered from his doorway, and as Hoss hurried to get dressed the sound of his brother’s infectious laughter wafting down the hallway helped him to forget. Even if only for a moment.

Chapter 14

Hoss shifted nervously in the saddle. He couldn’t understand why today of all days, his pa was insisting on going to visit the Clarks. He glanced anxiously up at the sun and hoped that Missy’s grandfather hadn’t started drinking yet. It was Thursday, a full two days since the last time he’d seen Missy. He’d tried everything short of just sneaking out of the house to go and see her earlier, but his pa had insisted that he catch up on some chores around the house. There were other reasons his pa wanted him to wait, but Hoss didn’t agree with any of them. He shook his head as his father’s words rang once again in his ears.

“Son, this is a difficult time for them, and they haven’t had a day alone in quite some time, besides I think it would be good to distance yourself a little bit.”

Hoss could feel the heat coming into his cheeks as he thought about his father’s words. Deep down he knew that his pa was looking out for him and trying to do what was best for his sake, but Hoss didn’t care about himself as much as he did Missy, and he knew, in the same way he knew his pa’s true concerns, that Missy needed him.

He’d been so excited that morning when his pa had finally given permission for him to visit, but his joy had been muted a moment later when he found out that his pa planned to come along. If it hadn’t been Thursday, he wouldn’t have minded in the least, but it was, and now they were over halfway there. Hoss was grateful that at least Little Joe hadn’t been allowed to come. The little boy had been bitterly disappointed and actively demonstrated his feelings until Hoss was worried Joe would soon be in trouble. Hoss waited until his pa stepped out for a moment and then promised Little Joe another fishing trip if he would straighten up, so when Ben came back a few moments later, he found his youngest son’s disposition much improved.

Hoss enjoyed the ride to Missy’s despite his anxiety. The hot summer sun was shining brightly, but beneath the shade of the monstrous Ponderosa pines the heat wasn’t so bad, and a light breeze helped to keep him cool and dry. A half hour later, not soon enough yet before he was ready, they had arrived. Hoss jumped down from his horse and offered to stable his father’s along with his own in the barn. Ben smiled and seeming to sense his son’s nervousness reached out and gave Hoss’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

Hoss had reached the barn entrance before he turned to look back toward the house. He watched as his father knocked, and then a moment later the front door opened. Holding his breath, he waited and soon was rewarded with the sound of laughter as his father shook hands with Buddy and then stepped inside the house. Feeling much better, Hoss continued the task of taking care of the horses. With his previous worries gone, his thoughts turned to Missy. The last time he had seen her, she had seemed so small and listless. She hadn’t even gotten up from the couch where she lay the entire time he was there. He quickly finished brushing down the horses, and then making sure they had water he headed toward the house.

As he approached, he noticed the front door was still open, and he could hear his pa talking to Buddy. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he stopped and listened for a moment. His heart sped up, and he sucked in a breath when he heard his pa’s next question.

“How can you let her run around all day unsupervised and in her condition?”

Hoss rolled his eyes. Trust his pa to get right to the heart of the matter, but, truth be told, he’d often wondered the same thing. He waited with pounding heart for Buddy to answer.

“I can see how you must think me callous and irresponsible,” Buddy began, and Hoss relaxed at the man’s even tone. “I never would have done such a thing before Missy’s mother died. I kept my daughter indoors and in bed much of the time, but for all my efforts I still couldn’t save her. When I realized Missy was sick . . . that she was dying, I was determined to let her live whatever amount of time she has left anyway she pleases.”

“But a child can’t be expected to make appropriate decisions,” Hoss heard his father say.

It was quiet for a moment, and Hoss began to worry that Buddy was angry, but a moment later he spoke again, and there was nothing in his voice except sadness.

“Mr. Cartwright, Missy will never have the opportunity to make appropriate decisions, as you say. She is dying, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it or change it. It makes her happy to run free and wild, and that happiness is the only thing left that I can give her . . .”

Hoss decided he had heard enough. He wondered at the two men talking so openly, and he stepped inside expecting to see Missy wide-eyed lying on the couch, but she wasn’t there. He turned a puzzled expression to Buddy, and the man smiled upon seeing him.

“She was feeling a little better today, Hoss,” he said. “She’s gone to the lake. She told me to have you join her there if you came today.”

Hoss looked beseechingly toward his pa and sighed with relief when Ben nodded his consent. A slow smile began to spread across his face as Buddy’s words sank in. “She’s feeling better.” He turned to go with a sudden lightness to his step but was stopped when Buddy called out his name. Hoss turned, and after looking into the man’s eyes his new found happiness vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

“Hoss, I . . . I don’t want you to think . . .”

Hoss nodded, his face turning solemn. He understood what Buddy was trying to say, and with one more quick nod toward his pa he hurried out the door. He knew just where Missy would be; it had become one of their favorite places to visit. He didn’t even bother to saddle Chubb, deciding that he needed the time it would take to walk there to gather his thoughts. Buddy’s words kept echoing in his mind. “She’s dying.”

The fact was becoming more and more real to him, and slowly his mind and heart were coming to the realization that it would be soon. She’d warned him many times what the future held, but it had all seemed so far away then, and it had been easier to push the thoughts away than it had been to try and face them.

A short while later, Hoss broke through the trees, and he walked toward the lake. The shore where he and Missy had spent hours fishing, talking, and skipping rocks was strewn with huge boulders. Hoss turned suddenly at the sound of his name being called, and when he caught sight of Missy sitting atop one of the larger boulders he smiled. The young girl’s hair was loose and flowing gently in the breeze. The sun shone down on her like a spotlight causing her hair to glisten, and her bare feet were brown underneath the golden sunlight. Hoss quickly scaled the huge rock and sat down beside her. He wasn’t surprised to see Curlicue nestled on her lap.

“I was so hoping you would come today,” she said.

Her voice was weak, and Hoss swallowed hard. “My pa wouldn’t let me come sooner; I tried everything.”

Missy turned to him and smiled. “He’s probably just concerned is all,” she said then laid a small hand on his arm. “He doesn’t want you to be hurt.”

Hoss nodded and then turned away from the intensity of her gaze. For a while neither one spoke, content to just gaze out on the water.

“Hoss,” she said a while later, her eyes still on the shining blue lake. “I don’t want you to be hurt either.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he kept silent. He didn’t want to tell her that his heart was already beginning to break.

“You know,” she continued. “I think when I’m gone, after I’ve visited Heaven for a while, I’ll come back and settle here. If you’re ever lonely, you can come look out at the water, and my spirit will comfort you.”

Hoss had to blink rapidly to keep back the tears that kept threatening to fall. He finally looked at her when he felt her hand once again on his arm.

“Are you afraid?” he asked softly.

Missy looked into his eyes for a moment before answering. “Sometimes—at night when it’s especially dark. I worry that . . . that’s what things will be like when . . .”

She then abruptly changed the conversation. “I made a wish on a star the other night,” she said. “Do you know what I wished for?”

Hoss didn’t even venture to guess.

“I wished that Curlicue would get well. Do you think he could, Hoss? I mean do you think he might ever be able to fly?”

Hoss just shrugged, but then seeing near desperation in Missy’s eyes, he answered. “I don’t see why not. Miracles happen all the time.”

Missy smiled then and turned her attention to her little pet, stroking his feathers softly. “Do you hear that, Curlicue. Hoss says he doesn’t see why my wish can’t come true.”

Hoss listened for a while as she continued to talk softly to the small bird, and though Missy was wishing for miracles, Hoss’s only wish was for the promise of tomorrow.

Chapter 15

Hoss slowly turned the glass jar upside down and allowed the coins to fall onto his bed. As he figured it would, the jingling sound caught the attention of his younger brother, and a moment later, the young boy burst through the door of his older brother’s bedroom.

“Watcha doin’?” Little Joe asked bounding across the room. His little green eyes grew round at the sight of the large heap of coins mingled with dollar bills.

Hoss grinned to himself as he started to separate the money. “I’m plannin’ a party, little brother.”

He got the anticipated response as Little Joe began to jump up and down in excitement.

“You are? What kind? Who’s it for? Will there be cake? Can I help?”

Hoss laughed out loud and then held up a hand to stay his brother’s enthusiasm. “Yes, I am, and it’s a . . . well, it’s sort of a lot of different kind of parties all rolled into one; it’s for Missy, and I was hopin’ you’d want to help with it.”

Little Joe’s exuberance tempered some at the mention of Missy but there was still a smile on his face as he reached out to finger the coins.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Well, if you’ll go get Charlie to saddle up our horses, you can go with me into town to buy the things we need.”

Little Joe let out a whoop as he ran for the door. Hoss listened as the sound of little boots clattered down the stairs followed by one big thud as Little Joe jumped the last two steps.

“Some things never change,” he contemplated, then with a sigh the thought continued, “and some things do change no matter how much you wish they wouldn’t.”

He’d discovered that in spades over the long summer. For a while it seemed as if his own body had become his worst enemy as he’d struggled to control and eventually accept his new found size and strength. Missy had been a large part of helping him overcome his doubts and fears. He remembered back to a day about a month ago when the two of them had been fishing near a fresh, mountain spring . . .

“Oh, Hoss, look,” Missy exclaimed.

Hoss turned to where the young girl was excitedly pointing out a large, colorful butterfly. She reached out carefully and held her hand beneath where it had lighted on a bright cluster of sweet smelling flowers. He wasn’t a bit surprised when the butterfly flitted a few times and then landed like a softly floating piece of cotton onto her open palm. Missy’s smile lit up her face as she turned to show Hoss the beautiful creature.

“Well, I’ll be,” He murmured. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

Missy giggled as the butterfly made its way up toward her wrist. “Here, take it,” she said. “It feels as if you’re holding onto a bit of a cloud.”

Hoss waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, I can’t hold that tiny thing. I’d crush it for sure.”

Missy was undaunted. “Don’t be silly,” she said taking his hand and holding the butterfly over it. The creature had stayed put for a moment only moving every now and again to slightly open or shut its vibrant wings. Hoss held his breath as he waited and finally the butterfly flew into his hand. He watched mesmerized as the fragile creature moved like a soft breath of air across his long fingers.

“Well, I’ll be.” Hoss grinned and then looked up into Missy’s dancing eyes.

“See, Hoss,” she whispered. “You’re the gentlest person I know.”

Hoss startled from his reverie by a firm knock on his bedroom door.

“Well, young man, what’s this I hear about you and you brother going into town today?”

Hoss felt his cheeks color as he stood to address his father. “Gee, I’m sorry, Pa. I guess I should’ve asked you before sayin’ anything to Little Joe. I was hopin’ to go buy a few things for that surprise I told you about; I’ll use my own money.”

Ben stood tall and stern. “Yes, you should have asked first. What if I’d had something else planned for you boys?”

Hoss didn’t miss the past tense reference or the twinkle in his pa’s eyes. He smiled sheepishly as he replied. “Ah, Pa, you don’t really mind, do ya?”

Ben laughed then and slapped Hoss’s arm good-naturedly. “No, I don’t mind, but for future reference, you should ask first. It wouldn’t be fair to get your little brother all excited and then have to dash his hopes.”

Hoss replied with a “yes, sir” and then made for the door. He wasn’t quick enough, however, and Ben delayed his son’s departure by another ten minutes as he lectured him about good spending habits. Hoss did his best to listen and to respond where appropriate. Then, as soon as he was free, he bolted down the stairs and out of the house. His horse and Joe’s pony were both saddled and waiting contentedly. Little Joe had run out of patience, though, and was amusing himself by swinging back and forth the on the open corral gate.

“Joseph, you better get off of there before Pa sees you,” Hoss admonished.

Little Joe quickly hopped down and gave the gate a big push. Hoss cringed as the gate slammed shut, but he noted that at least it had latched.

“Come on,” Hoss said, waving for his brother to get a move on.

Little Joe scrambled onto his pony and was sitting up in the saddle before Hoss had even finished mounting. “Can we run?” the little boy asked breathlessly.

Hoss scrunched up his face in thought for a moment. “I guess as long as we stay on the roads and . . .” that was as far as he got before Little Joe took off down the long, winding path that made its way from their ranch to meet up with the larger roads leading into town.

Hoss thought about shouting to his brother to slow down, but then the warm sunshine mixed with the sweet call of birds and a rustling breeze suddenly filled him with a zeal that rivaled his little brother’s, and a few moments later only a small cloud of dust left evidence that there had been any young boys in the ranch yard.

Chapter 16

Dear Adam,
The party was a success, but . . .

Hoss jumped as a loud crash of thunder sounded outside his bedroom window. The weather had changed quickly since he’d arrived home. The sun had been shining brightly that morning when he, Little Joe, and his pa had loaded up the wagon before heading to Missy’s. They’d gotten a late start because Little Joe had insisted on adding a few things to the assortment of gifts and trinkets Hoss had purchased or made. Hop Sing had joined in heartily the night before, baking a large cake with pink icing, as well as cookies and tarts of all sizes and flavors.

When they finally arrived, Missy had look flushed and listless, but she perked up some at their appearance, and by the time they got to the gifts she was smiling and laughing along with the rest of them. Hoss, for the most part, sat back and let Little Joe take over the conversation. The young boy was never at a loss for words, and Missy seemed to enjoy his lively chatter, but as Hoss watched her his heart began to sink. Missy wasn’t the same. Her answers to Little Joe were short, and her words seemed to come with great effort. She was fading, and to Hoss it seemed almost as if it were happening before his very eyes. A few times Missy focused her weary eyes on him, and he had tried his best to push a smile past his breaking heart.

When it was time for the food, Missy could only be persuaded to take a few small bites of cake, which she declared to be fit for a queen. Then came the gifts. Hoss had used a good deal of his money to buy her a book of poems as an early birthday present. It was one he had never read, but he’d heard his brother quote from it often, and he was certain Missy would enjoy it. Little Joe had begged to give her the Valentine that they had spent a good two hours making. The little general store had not had any colored paper, and they had come up with the idea to thin some of their left over red paint and color the paper themselves. It had taken them several attempts before they had gotten the shape of a heart just right, and Little Joe was proud of their efforts.

Missy hugged, and exclaimed over each and every treasure, but the gift that brought tears to her eyes was his Christmas gift. Hoss had managed to scrounge up a few bits of old Christmas paper that had been painted gold by Marie years ago. Missy carefully removed the paper and opened the box. She gasped when she pulled out a small ornament—a wild stallion running with its legs stretched out and its hair blowing in the wind. Hoss had spent nearly every spare moment for the past month working on the carving.

“I know you can’t ride it,” he said, “but you can hold it anytime you like.”

“It’s beautiful,” she declared emphatically.

Hoss’s heart was heavy as they took their leave a short while later. Missy and Little Joe, despite their best efforts, had fallen asleep, and Hoss and Ben tiptoed out quietly. At the door, Hoss turned to Buddy, intending to say a few words, but upon seeing the man’s sad smile, Hoss’s throat suddenly went dry. Buddy reached out and laid a hand on Hoss’s should giving it a firm squeeze. No words were spoken by either of them.

The clouds began gathering on the way home, and with them a feeling of foreboding crept slowly over Hoss. If he had been alone, he would have turned and run back to the little cabin, but he wasn’t alone, and the rain started a short time later. By the time they reached the ranch, the rain had become a downpour, and lightening was streaking, bright and angry, across the billowy gray skies. After getting the stock settled, Hoss bolted up to his room and shut the door. His mind and heart were full and grabbing up a pen he began to pour out his troubles to the one he’d turned to for as long as he could remember.

Hours later, Hoss lay on his bed, the letter to his brother clutched tightly to his chest. There were tears in his eyes, his heart was pounding fiercely, and a moment later it started to beat in rhythm with the heavy footsteps coming quickly down the hall. He stood up when he heard the hard rap on his door, and he knew—without seeing who was there or hearing the message being delivered—he knew.

His pa didn’t wait for an answer and opened the door. He seemed startled when he saw Hoss standing there, and the two seemed frozen in time for a moment.

“Hoss,” Ben began then stopped to clear his throat. “Mr. Clark is here . . . it’s . . . it’s Missy, something’s happened. He’s brought her here. She’s downstairs, she . . .”

Hoss didn’t listen to anymore, but bolted past his father and down the stairs. The door was open and the light was on in the spare room. He rushed over but Buddy stepped out of the room before Hoss could enter and placed a hand against the boy’s chest.

“It was that fool bird,” he said. “Got out the window shortly after you left; Missy went after it. I’d only gone out to the barn for a minute . . . I found her lying on the ground, soaking wet . . . she hasn’t stopped shivering since. Hoss, she wanted . . . she begged me to bring her here . . . she wanted to see you . . . before . . .”

Buddy voice broke down then, and it took every bit of control Hoss could muster not to crumble in the face of the man’s grief. Instead, Hoss laid a hand on Buddy’s shoulder and returned the squeeze that he’d been given earlier; then he walked past the bent man and into where Missy lay. He could hear her raspy breathing from the doorway, and the sight of her still, small form was almost too much for him. He started to turn away from the room, wanting desperately to escape the pain that was threatening to consume him, but then Missy opened her eyes and held out a hand toward him.

“Hoss,” she whispered hoarsely. “Come sit with me.”

Hoss couldn’t refuse her plea and quickly crossed the room enveloping her small hand in his own. He sat down in the large, stuffed chair next to the bed and stroked his thumb gently over her cold, white fingers. He could feel her eyes on him, but it took him a moment before he was able to meet them.

“Missy . . . why? Why’d you do it?”

“I wanted to see him fly,” she answered. “And, Hoss, he did. He flew higher and higher, right up into the clouds. Don’t you see? My wish came true.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.”

Missy smiled and opened her mouth to speak again, but was suddenly overtaken with a coughing spasm. Buddy was in the room almost instantly and gave her some kind of liquid medicine from a bottle. It took several minutes, but finally the coughing subsided. Missy was exhausted after that and fell into a fitful sleep. Hoss stayed by her side every minute, listening to every ragged breath, and startling at every soft moan. At some point he fell asleep himself. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sleeping when he jerked awake, but he was glad to see Missy’s eyes open. She was watching him intently with the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

“Hoss,” she said, and he leaned in close to hear her, “you remember where I’ll be waiting?”

Hoss’s mind traveled the few miles over to the rocky beach where Missy had declared her spirit would come back to rest—to comfort him. “I remember.”

Missy nodded weakly and then turned her gaze toward the window. “I’m not afraid. I can see it now, and it’s full of light.”

As she spoke the first gentle rays of the morning sun broke through the clouds and shone down. Missy lifted her drawn face toward the warmth, and Hoss knew that she was on her way to someplace fairer than even their own meadow with its breathtaking view of the lake. Drawing on her last strength of will, Missy turned to Hoss. Her voice was so soft that he almost missed what she said.

“Tell, Buddy . . . tell him that today . . . is my gift for him.”

It took a moment for Hoss to understand, and then he remembered that today was Thursday. Buddy wouldn’t have to add another day for trying to drown his sorrows. She’d been holding on for him. Hoss felt a tear splash onto his hand, and he looked through the mist in his eyes into Missy’s. She was smiling.

“Don’t . . . don’t ever . . . change . . .”

With those words Missy breathed her last breath. Hoss wasn’t sure how long he sat there holding her hand, only that some time later, his pa had come in and told him that he needed to get some sleep. Hoss allowed himself to be led up to his room, but at the door he turned to his pa.

“I’m . . . I need to be alone,” he said.

Ben hesitated, his eyes full of worry and empathy, but then he nodded and turned, quietly shutting the door and leaving Hoss alone.

Hoss moved stiffly across the room to his desk and withdrew a clean sheet of paper, but no matter how long he stared at it no words would come, and it finally hit him. His older brother was gone, like Missy, he was present in spirit, but for Hoss, for today, that wasn’t enough. Hoss took the paper and crumpled it up in his hand tossing it at the foggy window panes.

An old longing came over him, and he followed it out the door, down the hall, into the waiting arms of his father, and there he found strength, courage, and comfort.

Epilogue
Over the years, Hoss visited the lake many times. He sought solace among the gently rolling waves and strength from the solid pines and boulders. His joy was renewed in each sunset and sunrise, and while he was there, he never felt alone.

He thought of her often; always with a little pang of longing until the day when, for the last time, he closed his eyes on earth and opened them again in Heaven, to see a glowing, healthy young girl with large blue eyes and long golden hair. She smiled radiantly as she held out her hand, and he accepted it joyfully.

“Do you want to see something wonderful?” she asked, and Hoss laughed.