Chapter Three

The hairs on the back of his neck bristled and Joe barely managed to stop himself from tugging at the string tie that threatened to strangle him. A faint murmur greeted them as the family had made their way into church and he was under no illusion what had provoked it. The town gossips were having a picnic at his expense and he wrapped a protective arm around his son’s shoulder as they slid into their family pew. His brother’s firm hand clamped down on his own shoulder as he settled himself and he looked up to nod towards Adam. His brother’s calm demeanor helped settle his own wayward breathing and he soon found himself focusing on the preacher instead of the two women whispering together across the aisle.

It wasn’t long before Michael began to fidget and Joe found himself smothering a smile as he recalled how difficult he had found it to sit still when he was the same age. His father had only to drop a warning glare his way and he would stop squirming and sit up straight. It wasn’t that he didn’t like church. It was just that he didn’t always understand all the long words the preacher used. He liked some of the stories though and his favourite was always the one about Noah. When he told his father that he would have filled the ark with horses, Hoss had gotten quite indignant with him.

“What about all them other critters, Joe? The possums and the lizards and all them other things that couldn’t swim neither?”

Joe wasn’t all that interested in possums and other furry things that Hoss seemed to like so much, but he did like lizards. He’d conceded that he’d be okay with Noah putting lizards on his ark along with all the horses in Nevada. It had been no secret even then that Joe was obsessed with horses and Hoss had been placated with the idea he could take other critters along too.

Ben looked across to see his youngest son smiling and gazing off somewhere and he quietly cleared his throat. It was enough to pull Joe back from wherever he was and he managed to look contrite as he straightened up against the pew. It was Ben’s turn to smother a smile as he considered that some things never changed.

Michael looked between his father and grandfather, knowing that something was going on, but not really understanding what. He couldn’t have defined it as he simply didn’t have the words, but something about the two of them together made him feel safe. He’d watched and listened in the weeks since he came to his new home and he’d discovered a new way of being a family that he never knew existed. The men were sometimes loud when talking with each other and Hoss’s size had scared him at first, but he’d soon come to see what everyone else knew; that Hoss wasn’t scary at all. His Uncle Hoss reminded him of a story his mama had once told him about a giant and he ventured a sideways peek at the man who sat down the pew from them. He’d never seen a man as big as Hoss and the world looked very different from up on his broad shoulders.

As the lady playing the organ began to play the last hymn, Michael stood up alongside his father. He had no idea what the words were, but he liked the music and he listened as his Uncle Adam’s voice carried over the top of his pa’s. It was deep and smooth and something about it made him feel warm inside. He wished that he could sing like that, but his voice was never going to be that deep. He tried to concentrate on the hymn, but not knowing the words made it difficult to do. Instead his eyes began to wander around the room and he noted the finery that the good citizens of Virginia City were decked out in. His mama had never had such pretty dresses and he wondered what she would have thought of the huge feather that wafted in front of him from the lady’s hat. It seemed to dance on its own as she sang and he wondered if it wasn’t still attached to the chicken under all that silk and ribbons.

He looked across the aisle and saw a lady staring at him and something about it made him shrink back against his father’s leg. Joe felt the shift under his hand and he glanced down to see Michael frowning across the room. He followed his son’s gaze and briefly made eye contact with the widow Morton. She was a shrew of a woman and he had sometimes considered that her husband, Wilf had up and died just to get away from her. His father had rebuked him when he’d voiced that comment many years ago, but he still stood by it. The widow had the sharpest tongue in Virginia City and Hoss had once joked that a fella could sharpen an axe on it. Of course, he’d said that out of earshot of his father and Joe found himself having to stifle a laugh as it came to mind at the worst possible moment. He squeezed his son’s shoulder and smiled as the boy looked up at him. He watched as the expression shifted from a frown to a tentative smile and when the hymn finished, Joe deliberately pulled the boy onto his lap as he sat down.

By the time the service ended, Joe wanted nothing more than to escape back to the Ponderosa. He had no wish to run the gauntlet of the town’s gossips who couched their curiosity in Christian concern and charity. It was his father’s idea that it was time to bring the family to church and Joe had been loathe to agree. He felt that Michael was still getting his feet under him and he wanted to shelter him as long as he could.

“Son, if Michael is truly part of this family, he needs to be seen as such. You can’t hide him away for ever.”

“I’m not hiding him, Pa! It’s just that …”

There had been no logical finish to that point and Joe knew it. He had to start somewhere and the monthly church picnic had been designated that starting point.

Hoss plonked himself down and nudged at Michael’s arm. “Hey, little fella, how’s about we take a looksee at what Hop Sing made us for lunch?”

Ben was off somewhere talking business with one of the other ranchers and Adam was leaning up against a tree, talking anything but business with Maisie Hawkins. Joe smiled as he watched his brother’s smooth moves charming the pretty young brunette he’d danced with a few times the night before. Joe had surprised his father by declining to attend the dance with his brothers and instead had sat on the sofa reading a book. He’d held his tongue about Joe’s usual eagerness to get there and dance with every girl in the room, knowing it was far too soon.

As Joe snagged a piece of fried chicken from under Hoss’s nose, his brother grumbled something about starving as he dug further into the basket. Michael watched as the two of them made comments back and forth and he tried to make sense of them. It sounded like they were arguing, but they were laughing as they spoke. Before he could get his thoughts around things, a woman came sidling up to Joe and slipped an arm around his waist. An emotion he could not define crawled up from his stomach and he almost spat out the chicken still in his mouth. She reminded him of the saloon girl he’d seen in Providence. All desperate eyes and slippery hands. Joe disentangled himself from her arm and stepped sideways as she moved to try again.

“Now, Little Joe, we’ve missed seeing you around Virginia City for months now. I didn’t see you at the dance last night and I’d saved you a spot on my card.”

“Well, I’ve been outta town for some time and only just got back a few weeks back. I’ve been kinda busy and … well …” Joe scratched at the back of his neck as he tried to once again sidestep her hands.

“And just who is this handsome young gentleman you’ve got here?”

Michael scooted a little closer to Hoss who was torn between standing in the company of a lady and keeping close to the little boy who looked like he wanted to bolt. In the end he decided that Joe could deal with Stella on his own and he pulled out a napkin and made a show of dabbing at Michael’s chin with it.

“Stella, this is Michael.” As Joe waved towards the child and made no move to explain any further, Stella dropped to her knees alongside the boy and began to ruffle his hair.

“Such lovely curls you have. Joe, I seem to recall hearing that you had sweet curls when you were a little boy too.”

The seemingly innocent comment had Joe’s blood boiling and Hoss moved to forestall his brother’s anger. Michael was looking decidedly uncomfortable and Hoss reached to pat his hand.

“Well, Michael’s mama had the prettiest dang curls too and I guess he just takes after her.”

Joe felt his fist unclenching as he looked at his older brother’s innocent expression. He’d described Hannah to them more than once and Michael most definitely favoured his mother’s blonde hair and blue eyes. He had no idea what the boy’s father looked like and had never asked. He didn’t really care to know anyway and it no longer mattered.

“Ohh,” Stella cooed as she leaned back on the picnic rug. “And just when might his mama be coming along?”

“My mama’s in Heaven … with Joe’s mama.” The whispered answer caught them all by surprise and Joe felt his breath hitch as he watched the child crumple before his eyes. He silently cursed Stella and all the other busybodies who had been watching the action from underneath their Sunday best bonnets.

Stella at least had the good grace to look embarrassed and she began to climb to her feet. On any other day, Joe would have reached out a hand to help her, but he was too concerned with getting past her and reaching his son instead. By the time he got to him, Michael was shaking and tears threatened to spill as Joe picked him up.

“I think it’s time we went home, Hoss.” His brother was already gathering the remnants of the picnic into the basket and could see his father and brother heading their way. Stella was still standing on the rug and Joe wanted to nudge her with his boot and make her move. He pulled in the thought and turned to head towards the wagon before he could do anything stupid. As he hurried away, he could make out murmurings and frowning faces looking his way.

“Always knew that boy’d sow some wild oats in the wrong place one day.”

“Poor Ben … he must be so disappointed.”

“Well money doesn’t guarantee good breeding does it.”

“Suppose the mother was some floozy he had hidden in another town.”

The poisonous words felt like arrows in his back as Joe scrambled to shield his son from the onslaught. He knew it was only a small minority, but it felt like an entire army arrayed against him. He wanted to do what he usually did and shout down any argument. If it weren’t the women doing the talking, he would have taken a swing at those who were throwing out such spite.

As he hoisted Michael up onto the seat of the wagon, it didn’t escape his attention that the child desperately grasped at his arm, as if not wanting to break contact. He climbed up beside him and pulled the boy onto his lap. His father’s calm voice beside him steadied him as he struggled to keep his mouth shut. He would not give the gossips the satisfaction of responding to them and the tears soaking into his chest were of far more immediate concern than his tattered reputation.

It was several miles down the road before he realised that even though Hoss was riding silently alongside them, Adam was nowhere to be seen.

Adam watched as the wagon rolled away and he’d seen his father’s frown as he made no move towards his own horse. He’d sensed the atmosphere change as Stella sidled up to Joe and he’d been watching as Joe had tried to pull away from her. The girl was pretty enough to have caught Joe’s eye when she first began to flirt with him, but her flighty nature and vicious tongue had made short work of that attraction. Joe might have been a sucker for a pretty face, but he would not long tolerate cruelty. When Stella had chosen to whisper comments about a young woman who was new to town, Joe had heard her and seen past the prettiness. The ugliness was hidden only just below the surface.

Adam stood and watched as the picnickers attempted to smooth over the awkwardness left in the wake of the departure of his family and he nodded as the preacher made his way towards him.

“I’m sorry Adam. That should never have happened and that poor child is welcome here in the house of God.”

“Thanks.”

Adam stared at the man and took in the earnest face before him. He was new to Virginia City and didn’t know any of them well yet. Still, his outstretched hand proved he meant what he said. Adam glanced around to see others watching them and he slowly stepped forward.

“You all sat in that building this morning and heard the preacher here talk about a lot of things. It was a fine sermon and I’d just like to add something to it. And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity. I’m assuming you all know those words since they come from the Bible. I’ve heard sermons where that word charity is also translated as love. The greatest of these is love. My brother may not always get it right, but for those of you who pointed the finger at him, you couldn’t be more wrong. Dead wrong!”

He could hear murmurings and he barely managed to hold himself in check.

“It’s true, Michael is his son. But not because Joe dishonoured any woman. In fact, the opposite is true. My brother gave honour to a woman that the world had chosen to spit on. He brought home her child to raise as his own after she died.”

Adam could hear quiet gasps as understanding sunk in. He had no wish to share the details of Joe’s story, but he would not stand by and let a few malicious gossips sully what his brother had done and tar Michael with a stain he did not deserve.

“My brother knows more about love than some of you will ever discover in an entire lifetime. Instead of adding to his pain, you might try taking a leaf out of his book. Learn a little about compassion.”

Adam didn’t bother waiting for any kind of response, knowing he’d made his point. He spun on his heel and stalked towards his horse, smoothly pulling himself up into the saddle and heading for home.

It was two weeks before Joe agreed he was ready to head back to church with his father. Michael sat silently, leaning against him as the sway of the wagon lulled him almost to sleep. Joe felt his gut churning wildly the closer they got to Virginia City and he wished he had argued louder against the idea. As if sensing his unease, Ben reached a hand across and squeezed his shoulder.

Some time later, he sat in the family pew and he listened intently as the preacher opened his Bible and began to read. It was a verse he knew well.

“And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

Adam lifted his eyes to the ceiling as he barely held back a smile.

(1 Corinthians 13:13)