***** SEASON FOUR *****

The First Born

He can’t be. He’s dead.

They wouldn’t have… would they? Did they really despise me that much? They conspired to drive my husband away. Did they lie about our child? Why? Because I wasn’t born of money? I wasn’t an aristocrat?

All those years, I longed to hold him in my arms. The humiliation I suffered in having to work for Eduard. All because of their deceit.

But Clay… Is he really? I can see the resemblance, yet he’s worldlier, more mature, my first born. He should have been raised here, with his brothers.

But would Ben have proposed marriage?

By BluewindFarm

The Artist

On occasion a man is in the right place at the right time to lend a hand.  I’ve taught all my boys since they were young that if you can, you should.  It doesn’t come with a promise that it’ll be easy.  Or even that the person will be grateful

They might not understand what I’m about to do.  They will eventually.  They trust me enough not to interfere despite their confusion.

Life has dealt this gentleman an unfair blow. He feels he’s somehow less than a man.  It’s about time he’s given the opportunity again to be treated fairly.

By CJTurtle4

The Deserter (1962)

The Shoshone children were the first to spot the uniformed riders.  With wide eyes, they turned and fled.  Screaming and shouting alerted their mother, who labored over the hot stove.

Could it be?

She dared not hope as the excited sounds of her son and daughter filled the yard.  Leaving the kitchen, she gathered them into her arms as they burst through the door.  “They’re here!  They’re here!  They’re back!”

Small hands dragged her over the threshold and out onto the porch.  She stood transfixed as the two men rode in.  Tears choked her greeting.

By CJTurtle4

The Way Station

I envy Marty in a way.  An adventure awaits her, a new stage in her life with an opportunity to learn more about an art she already loves.  She has her grandfather’s devotion and support.  More importantly, she has his understanding.  The only way he can make her truly happy is to let her go.  In the end, a sheltered child is harmed unintentionally.  They’re never allowed to make their own mistakes.  They’re never allowed to stand or fall, completely and utterly, on their own merits.  Now she’ll have that chance, come success or failure.

See the cities, Marty.  Go.

By CJTurtle4

Gallagher’s Sons

I’m gonna have a heck of a time explainin’ this, I thought as I watched the stage disappear around the bend—leavin’ a cloud of dust in its wake. I was supposed to’ve been home three days ago, and iff’n I hadn’t had to drag those two, little gals across the desert on a wild goose chase, I would have made it back to the Ponderosa on time. Well, now I was late, and judgin’ by what the doc told me, I’d not be fit to sit a saddle for at least a week. So it was lookin’ more an’ more like I’d hafta wait for the next stage to come in afore I could leave this sorry town behind me.

“Dadblamed gals.” I muttered as I made my way over to the telegraph office, but there was little heat in my words. True, they’d made a bad decision when they took that bank money—and an even worse one when they “forgot” to mention it to me—but they were only young’uns. And judgin’ by what they’d told me, they hadn’t been raised proper by their pa anyhow.

I shook my head as a slow smile spread across my face. “Hmph! Gallaghers.”

By AnnieKCowgirl

The Decision

The beans tasted off and the coffee too bitter.  With a mostly empty and upset stomach, Joe continued to digest his father’s words.

“Please believe me.  It’s better this way,” he’d said.

What was better?  Being so far away from his pa and injured older brother?  Not knowing if or when Hoss would recover?  He couldn’t shake the feeling he was being deliberately sheltered from an ugly truth.

A hand settled on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll get back just as soon as we can.”

Adam sat down beside him, never breaking contact with his younger brother.

By cjturtle4

The Jury

“Hoss, what’s your vote?”

The rest of the jury members glanced my way. They were all convinced that Jamie Wren was guilty of murder, but–unfortunately–I wasn’t so sure. ‘Course, there was a witness, but the night the crime took place had been awful dark. And the onliest thing the case hinged on was that eye-witness testimony. Something about that rubbed me the wrong way.

Guilty or not guilty? No matter how hard I thought on it, I just didn’t know.

“Hoss?”

“I reckon that judge was right; there is reasonable doubt.” I sighed. “I gotta vote not guilty.”

by Annie K Cowgirl

Song in the Dark

Danny Morgan was innocent. I knew that with every fiber of my being, just like I had known last year that Bill Enders shot Toby Barker at Goat Springs. The trouble was I had to prove it, and the only evidence I had was my own experience with the man. He could have stolen three thousand dollars from me when we first met; he had had plenty of opportunities to do so. But he didn’t; heck, Danny just didn’t seem to put much stock in dollars and cents! Men like that don’t change into ruthless, money-hungry criminals over night. Pa had taught me that.

Though the Cartwright name was nearly as good as gold, in this case it was worth less than the dust that clung to my bootheels.

I wasn’t there. I didn’t see who killed the Widow Baker or Mrs. Mary Johnson. Neither was I with Danny when the crimes took place. And since he had a strange habit of riding around alone singing to the stars, my friend had no witnesses to prove his innocence. Therefore my opinion was only that: an opinion.

No. Danny wasn’t guilty. Too bad I was the only one who believed it.

by Annie K Cowgirl

Marie, My Love

NO! Not my Joseph! Oh, please! This can’t be happening!

With little guidance required from his rider, Cochise had effortlessly run across the land, skimming through tall grasses, gracefully jumping any obstacles. His hoof beats drummed rhythmically, 1-2-3 pause, 1-2-3 pause, as the pair made their way home. A shout, and they were down. The pinto gained its footing, but not his rider.

How could you do this?! Has not this family suffered enough?

Time passed without any tears streaking the faces of those who carried the youngest member into their home.

“Thank you for letting him live.” Marie exhaled.

By BluewindFarm

~ B ~ O ~ N ~ A ~ N ~ Z ~ A ~

Heaven was the only way to describe the sensation; warm and comforting. Burrowed deep under the covers he snuggled contentedly.   The fragrance of the spring-time blossoms floated on the breeze through the open window, teasing him with the memory past.

He grasped at the vision. Running and laughing, hand in hand, they crossed the meadow towards the patch full of berries. Her golden hair escaping the ribbon that restrained it to the nape of her neck. She looked at him with loving eyes, a smile upon her lips. Butterflies flitted above the tall grasses while birds sang their songs in the nearby trees. The scene shifted; the two sat on the blanket.   He laid his head on her lap, she toyed with the curls that fell from his too long hair. But soon the darkness returned; realization made real, he was alone. No longer was she there to cuddle and soothe his hurts.

Pushing down the covers, he slipped from the bed, across the floor, and down the hallway to Adam’s room. Carefully he climbed into his brother’s bed, while strong arms wrapped themselves around him, pulling him closer. Tears fell as he wished his mother had not gone away.

By BluewindFarm

My Brother’s Keeper

I knew the wolf was just beyond that rock, and I had to be fast to shoot him. We’d lost several cattle to him. It was time to bring it to an end.

With my rifle ready I slipped from behind the rock and … a hit to my shoulder tossed me to the ground. Agony spread through my chest as if someone stabbed me with a branding iron. Growling, the wolf ferociously attacked me. I fought for my life while his teeth strained to reach my neck.

Oblivious to the shots; I felt safe once Adam knelt beside me.

By SilverSven

The Boss

How I ended up with Doc Martin patting me on my shoulder and telling me I was lucky, is beyond me. His instructions I’d heard before, ‘Take it easy, keep my arm in the sling, and for heaven sake, take the laudanum before the pain became too intolerable.’

I remember one of Slayden’s goons calling my name. I turned and next I was flying through the air with my shoulder burning as if someone had thrust a branding iron into my flesh. Hitting the ground must have done more than knock the breath out of me. How’d I get home?

By BluewindFarm

To Season Five