Summary:   Little Joe is engaged for the first time.

Rating:   T    Word Count:  8,840

 

The Banns Having Been Read

 

The banns having been read at church services that morning, the engagement of Joseph Cartwright to Leonora Simms became the most popular topic at Sunday dinner for the majority of the congregation.  By Monday night every aspect of the engagement had been repeatedly dissected by the sharpest tongues in the area: the young age of both parties, the volatile temper of the future groom as well as the misadventures of his childhood, the girl’s beauty, the financial status of both families, and the possible reasons for Ben Cartwright agreeing to such a short courtship especially since the future bride had arrived in town less than a month prior.  While many shook their heads over the suitability of the match and a sizable number of females sniffed over the loss of an extremely eligible bachelor, everyone knew that the wedding of an heir to the Ponderosa would be the social event of the year and began plans for their own participation.

 

The future groom seemed oblivious to any thoughts that might distract from his joy and single-minded focus on having snared the prettiest girl in a hundred miles, and he took his brothers’ teasing with unusual equanimity.  In fact, when Adam teased that had Leonora not come into the picture, they would surely have had to send the kid off to a monastery and in all probability should find one for him to visit until the wedding eve, it was Hop Sing who bristled and smacked the serving platter down with a stream of mumbled Chinese.  All the Cartwright men at the table exchanged glances and shrugs before devouring the excellent pot roast that resided on the platter.  Still, only Little Joe gave any further thought to Hop Sing’s reaction.  The next morning after rising considerably later than his father and brothers, Little Joe slipped into the kitchen looking for breakfast.  He slid onto the end of the long wooden table and reached into the basket of biscuits that sat upon it.

 

“I don’t suppose I deserve any butter or jam.  I’m sorry I wasn’t to table on time.”

Hop Sing grunted.  “Sit in chair.”  As Little Joe complied, the cook set butter and jam in front of the young man.  “You want eggs or hot cakes?”

Little Joe flashed a smile.  “Both, please, if it’s not too much trouble.”  Hop Sing shook his head and began preparing Joe’s breakfast.

Little Joe ate his biscuit and jam, retrieved a cup of coffee, and studied the cook for a few minutes.

“Hop Sing, can I ask you something?” Pausing, Hop Sing looked over his shoulder and simply nodded. “Well, I was wondering, umm, last night at dinner, well, you seemed mad, I just, ummm, does it have to do with my wedding?  We won’t expect you to do everything by yourself, we’ll…”

Hop Sing turned with a glare, “You think Hop Sing no can prepare wedding without help!  Think he…”

“No, no, I know you can; we all do.  That’s why Pa told the Simmses not to worry, that we’d handle everything.  I mean, Leonora will have a say in everything but…”  Little Joe sighed.  “I don’t want my wedding to be a burden to you is all.”  He looked up into Hop Sing’s eyes.  “You will be a guest, you know.”  His strongest emphasis was on the word guest, and his tone declared the irrevocable nature of the statement.

Hop Sing smiled.  “I see to everything then I be guest.”  He turned back to face his stove.

“Good.”  Little Joe buttered another biscuit.  “What made you angry then?”

“It is not a matter for joking.”

“What’s not a matter for joking?”  Little Joe’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“The monastery.”

“The monastery?”

“Is not the place to be made a joke.  Becoming a monk serious.  Christian or Buddhist, it is serious.”

Little Joe had never personally met a monk of either variety but had been taught respect for any man who adhered to a strict set of religious or moral beliefs.  “I don’t think Adam meant any disrespect; really I don’t.”

Hop Sing sighed, and his hands stilled.  “No, I know Mr. Adam no that kind of man.”

“But you got angry.”

Hop Sing sighed again.  “You not know, but Hop Sing spend four years at the monastery before come to America.   Father send Hop Sing to learn.  Hop Sing learn great respect for bhikkhu.  Hop Sing hold time at monastery very dear in heart.”

“You were a monk!”

“Hop Sing not yet twenty, could not be bhikkhu, but for a time was śrāmaṇera.”  Hop Sing realized that Little Joe had no familiarity with either term.  “Hop Sing no full monk, but took first vows and was …um, apprentice monk.”

“Oh.”  The single word was the only utterance that came to Little Joe’s mind.  Hop Sing brought Little Joe a plate with two fried eggs and returned to the stove to prepare the hot cakes.  Joe ate his eggs and set down his fork.  “Why didn’t you become a full monk?  Why did you leave the monastery?”  Hop Sing did not immediately answer.  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Hop Sing set a fourth hot cake on a plate and then brought it to the table.  Setting the plate in front of Little Joe, he took a seat.  “Is no great secret.  I find I would no be good monk.  I did not want to keep all vows.”

“What vows do Buddhist monks take?”

“No time to teach all vows to follow Enlightened One, but some quite same as for Christian monks: poverty, discipline, obedience, and…umm, life without woman.”

Which one didn’t you want to keep? Little Joe opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.  It would be rude to ask.  I wouldn’t want to keep any of them myself.

If the young man had asked, Hop Sing would have admonished him for the question, but when Little Joe dropped his eyes to the table and took another bite of his breakfast Hop Sing decided to continue.  “Hop Sing could be poor, family no very rich anyway, discipline and obedience something all can learn if try hard enough, but Hop Sing find he no want to live without woman.”

Something in the phrasing or the tone gave the reason to Little Joe.  “You fell in love.”

Hop Sing nodded.  “We have much love between us, but her father he had decided she would be bhikkhuni, be nun.  She could not go against father.  Hop Sing would not bring her that pain.  Hop Sing leave monastery, leave China.  Could not bear to look again upon her, could not chance.”  Hop Sing rose and walked back to his stove.

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

“Long time ago.  No be sorry; be happy you have great love with Missy Leonora.  Finish and go.  Father waiting.”

Great love?  Little Joe chewed the corner of his lower lip, and then as he had often in the past simply did as Hop Sing told him.

 

~~~~~

 

Little Joe stepped onto the porch where his older brother was sitting with his chair tipped back against the wall strumming his guitar.  Studying his brother as he finished playing “Early One Morning,” Joe walked over and leaned back against the porch rail.  He cleared his throat.

“Adam, can I speak with you?”

Adam cocked his brow.  When Little Joe did not immediately continue, he strummed a single cord and set his guitar down.  “Anytime, kid.”

“I want to, umm, I want to ask you something.”

Adam had heard Little Joe’s current tone many times.  “And you think I’ll say no.”

“You might, but it’s really not…”  Little Joe dropped his gaze and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I’ve said no before, little brother, but I’ve said yes a few times too.”

“Really, it’s not like it’s something bad; it’s not; it’s just you… but it’s real important to me, Adam.”

Adam’s hand tugged his right ear.  “What would you have me do, Joe?  Just spit it out.”

“Would you sing at my wedding?”

Adam’s brow furrowed and then smoothed.  “I plan to eat, drink, and dance at your wedding.  Adding singing will not be a problem.  It’s going to be the biggest party Pa’s ever thrown.  A great time will be had by all.”

“Not at the party.  Well, there too, but I want you to sing at the service, at the wedding ceremony itself.”  Little Joe took a step forward and then dropped to sit at Adam’s feet.  “I know you don’t like to sing at church.”  I don’t really know why ‘cause you sing in front of people other places lots, but I know you really don’t.  “You’ve turned the preacher down dozens of times, but, well, it’s real important to me that you do.”

Adam let the front feet of his chair hit the porch with a soft thud.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.  Then he took in a slow breath and released it.  Little Joe sat silent; he had learned long ago when not to interrupt his brother’s thoughts.  “Why is it important, Joe?”

Little Joe’s cheeks flushed as his eyes dropped to study his hands.  “I don’t… you’ll think it’s twaddle.”

Adam leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees.  “If it’s important to you, it’s not nonsense.”

Little Joe looked up at his brother.  “I know; you ain’t said nothing, but I know you ain’t sure about me getting married.  You think I’m too young; that we ain’t known each other long enough.”

“You’re my baby brother.” Adam saw Little Joe bristle. “You always will be even when you’re ninety, so you’re just going to have to get over me saying it.  I know you are no more a baby than Hoss is little.”  Joe shook his head and then waited. “If I’m less than one hundred percent in favor, it’s just that.  You haven’t known Leonora long, and you’re both young, but… I haven’t said a word against the marriage, now, have I?”

“No, but, well, it’s just, well, I have this feeling.”  Joe looked straight into Adam’s eyes.  “If you sing at the service, it will be like you’re giving my marriage your blessing, not just putting up with something, but giving it your blessing.”  Little Joe’s eyes dropped.  “That’s why it’s important to me.”  Several seconds passed.  “Pa wasn’t much older when he married your mother, was he?”

“No, no, he wasn’t.  Joe, you’re right about where my reservations lie.  Did you wonder why I didn’t voice them to you?”

“Well, I kinda expected that you’d bring them up to me at some point. To tell the truth, I expected to hear them before now.”  Little Joe scrunched his nose and cocked his head.  “Why haven’t you?”

Adam leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest.  “It could be that I didn’t want to spoil your happiness, and while it’s true that I don’t, that’s not the real reason.”

“Then why?”

“I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.”

“A hypocrite?” Little Joe’s confusion was clear.

Adam tugged his right ear and cleared his throat.  “Truth is that you are not the first of Pa’s sons to be engaged.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

“You?  But I don’t… when?”

“You can’t remember because you never knew.  The first year I was at college I was engaged to be married for seventeen days.  Since I wasn’t that much older than you, and I only knew her for five weeks before I proposed, well, there you have it.”

“You never said.”

“No, I… no, I never did.”

“We never knew.” It’s so important, and we never knew.

Adam felt his brother’s tone was much too sorrowful; he made his own tone light.  “There’s quite a few things about my college days that Pa, Hoss, and you don’t know, and if my luck continues to hold there are a number of things that Pa will never find out.”

The corners of Little Joe’s mouth quirked upward.  “Does that mean you’ll tell Hoss and me about them?”

Adam smiled.  “When we are old and gray.”

“I’ll take that as a promise.”  Little Joe drew his knees up to his chest and hugged his legs.  “Tell me about your being engaged.  Please.  I… since, well, I’m old enough to understand.”

Adam sighed.

“Why only seventeen days?”

Adam gazed out over his brother’s head to focus on the night sky.  “She was Irish Catholic my Mary Kate.”

“So.  Mama was Catholic.”

You never could listen to a story without interrupting, baby brother.  “She was, but…  anyway, Mary Kate’s mother was devout and her father… her father spent most Sunday mornings sleeping off the drink and darkened the church door only on Christmas, Easter, and the occasional baptism or confirmation, but he…  Well, I believe his words were ‘I’ll be damned if a daughter of mine will send herself to hell by marrying a heretic’.” It took me nine days to convince her to tell her parents of our engagement and eight days for me to accept that the marriage would never be.  Seventeen days.”

“But you loved her.”

“Yes, we loved each other.”

“You could have…”

Adam shook his head.  “No, Joe.  I thought of every possibility.  If it had been just her father…  She loved her mother.  She had seven brothers and three sisters; she loved them.  I had you and Hoss and Pa.  I thought of converting.”  Adam rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “I guess I couldn’t let…”  Adam shrugged.

“Is she why…”  Little Joe rubbed his hand along his pants.  “Are you still…”

Adam shook his head again.  “No, Joseph, she is not why you do not have a sister-in-law as of yet.”

“I thought…  She wasn’t your one true love?”

Adam leaned forward again.  “I loved her truly, Joe, but I don’t believe in one true love, not like in fairy tales and the ladies’ novels.”

“What do you believe, Adam?”

Adam leaned back and tugged his ear several times.  “I think, well, it’s like this to me.  You’ve heard couples sing duets.”  Adam took the simple nod of his brother’s head as an indication that the boy’s seriousness deserved an honest and complete answer.  “Well, when some couples sing a duet their voices meld; it’s a thing of beauty.  Sometimes it goes beyond the magnificence either singer could produce alone. Do you know what I mean?”  Little Joe had much less experience with music than his brother, but he nodded his understanding.  “Other times, two people signing together, even if they both sign well, it just sounds off.  They detract from each other instead of enhancing.  To my mind, falling in love is like deciding to sing a duet.  You can’t do it with everyone, but there is more than one possibility for creating beauty.  Especially… Joe, two people don’t just decide to sing together and do it perfectly.  To create magnificence, they have to practice, to work very hard, join their voices in a way that doesn’t compete but blends.  For the duet that is marriage, you have to choose well and work hard, but if you do, you have, well, your life has a beauty, a richness, that you could never have singing alone.”

“I’m not the best singer, Adam.”

“My analogy works best for me.  I could have talked about horses and riders, but that wouldn’t have been very flattering to your lovely Leonora.”  Adam smiled and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “I’ll sing at your wedding, Joe.  You, Leonora, and I can sit down and decide on an appropriate song.”

Little Joe smiled.  “That’s good!”  I hadn’t thought about Leonora wanting to pick the song.

Adam squeezed the shoulder beneath his fingers.  “I’m sure your duet will be a thing of beauty, baby brother.”

Little Joe chewed the corner of his mouth as he nodded.

 

~~~~~

 

 

Little Joe walked over to where Old Ned was working on the Cartwright buggy.  “Do you think you’ll have it fixed before tomorrow?”

The old man looked over his shoulder.  “Most probably.”  He straightened and wiped his hands on his pants.  “You’re wanting to take your betrothed out for a Sunday jaunt, I suppose.”

“That’s the plan.”  Little Joe sighed.  “Leonora’s not much for riding.”

Old Ned turned to face Joe.  “She’s not?”

“No.” Little Joe drew out the syllable.   “She’s lived mostly in cities and such.  We’ll work on her riding after the wedding.  I’ve got Hoss looking for the right mare.  I was thinking I might give her a mare of her own for a wedding present.”

“Having your own can make horses more agreeable to most.”  Though, if my eyes ain’t been deceiving me, a horse ain’t the present that little filly is dreaming on.   “Iffen I don’t run into any extra problems, I can have her done before I hit my bunk.”

Little Joe’s eyes lit up and then faded.  “You don’t have to work extra, Mr. Ned.  There’s other things Leonora and I can do tomorrow.”

“Should I be worried about what any of those things might be, Little Bit?”

Little Joe’s eyes danced, and he could not suppress a grin.  “I’m an engaged man, Mr. Ned; you nor Pa nor Adam need to worry; Mr. Simms, well, he might have just a bit of a reason.”  Joe watched the man’s brow furrow.  “Leonora’s a lady; I always treat her like one.”

“See that ya do, Little Bit; see that ya do.” Old Ned’s voice had grown serious and carried a tone Little Joe recognized.

Joe leaned against the buggy and studied the old cowhand’s face.  “There’s something more you want to tell me, isn’t there?”  I’ve seen that look on your face lots of times.  It’s your I’ve-learned-a-thing-or-two- over-the-years look.

“Could be I could take a bit of a break and still finish before tomorrow.”  Old Ned gestured to a bench against the barn wall, walked over, and sat down.  Little Joe followed, but instead of sitting on the bench beside Old Ned he dropped to the ground and sat looking up as he had for many a lecture from the man who he looked upon as a surrogate grandfather.

Old Ned spat a stream of tobacco off to his side.  “Some would think it ain’t my place to speak seeing as you have your Pa to be seeing that ya hear what a bridegroom is needing to know, but, well, you and your brothers understand how I think on you boys.”

Little Joe nodded.  “The Indians think that any elder should share his wisdom with any young brave who doesn’t have his experience.  ‘Sides, teaching me has always been your place.”

The old man smiled.  “Did I ever tell you that I had me a wife once?”

“No.” Little Joe’s voice was soft.  You were married!  “No, you never spoke of her.”

Old Ned cleared his throat.  “Avoiding pain, I suppose, even though it was a long, long time ago.”

“You don’t have to speak now if it pains you.”

Old Ned shook his head slightly.  “Something I want to say, and I want you to know I have some wisdom on the subject, of course, some of that wisdom was given to me by my papa; maybe that’s why I’m feeling the need to pass it on like I would have if my Jenna and I had had the sons we planned on.”

“Her name was Jenna?”

“Jennessa.  It’s means white and smooth and fair.”

“Was she very fair?”

The corners of Old Ned’s mouth turned upward in a gentler smile than Little Joe could ever remember seeing on the old man’s face before.  Ned gave a slow shake of his head.  “She weren’t the town beauty; no, she always said I was the only man ever saw beauty in her face or form.  I weren’t the onliest one to see it in her soul though.” Old Ned took in a deliberate breath.  “She was a frail thing, my Jenna.  Frail and young and pure, but I thought I could be strong enough for the both of us.  That if God made us one, she’d share my strength.  Might be my thinking was a bit cocky for the Lord.”

Little Joe went up to his knees and leaned toward Old Ned.  “Don’t think that; don’t think that way.  Hoss said… well, sometimes Pa…well, once Hoss said we can’t never think that God would take someone to punish or prove a point.  Ain’t nobody been that bad to deserve that.”

Old Ned nodded his head.  “That brother of yours, well, Bucko ain’t the only one of the boss’s boys can say something deep and true.”

Little Joe settled back onto the ground.  “You’re wanting to tell me something deep and true about being married.”

Old Ned gave another nod.  “About how a man should care for his wife.”

“I’m planning on taking good care of Leonora; I’ll be strong for her, and I’ll be gentle.”

“That’s good, boy, real good, but I want ya to be more.  I want ya to be tender.”

“Isn’t that the same as being gentle?”

“Not exactly.  A man needs to be gentle with his wife’s body; he has to be tender with her heart and soul.”  Old Ned saw the tiny furrow in Little Joe’s brow.  “Bucko’s got himself one of them big dictionary books for words up to the house, doesn’t he?”

“Sure, it must weigh ten pounds.”

“Well, if you look up tender, ya’ll see two ways of meaning.  One is fragile, easily broken.  A good woman’s heart is a tender thing, even a strong woman’s.  That’s why a man’s got to be tender in the other way: showing love and gentle affection.  It’s not enough to love her, Little Bit, not with your body nor your heart.  You have to show her love and gentle affection anyway ya can.  Over and over, any way ya can.”

“Pa did that with Mama.” Little Joe’s voice was a whisper. Old Ned nodded his affirmation.  “You had to be extra tender with your Jenna?”

“You know me, Little Bit, that ain’t my way, never was, never with anyone but her.”  Old Ned smiled and reached down to squeeze Joe’s shoulder.  “It’ll be easier for you, well, except for the times you let that temper of yours get the upper hand.”

“What if I do lose my temper?”

“If ya do, then ya go to her and ask for her tender mercy and forgiveness.” Old Ned squeezed the shoulder beneath his hand again.

“I will; I promise.”

“Fine.”  Old Ned rose and started toward the buggy.  “I best get to my fixing then.”

Little Joe stood and dusted off the seat of his pants.  “Mr. Ned, umm, could you do one other thing for me?”

Ned looked back over his shoulder.  “What’s that?”

“Ummm, I’m not meaning no sass.”

“Ya know I don’t allow none.”

Little Joe nodded. “Well, I was wondering, since I’m going to be a married man and all…  Well, I… it’s not that I don’t…”

“Spit it out, boy.”

“Could you call me Joe or something else besides Little Bit?  At least in front of Leonora.”

Old Ned’s eyes swept from the boy’s head to his feet and back again.  He spit another stream of tobacco at the ground.  “Well, a fellow does want his intended to see him standing tall.”

“So?”

“Old habits die hard, but, well, in front of the ladies, I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ned!”  Joe’s smile blazed. “And I’ll remember what you said.”

 

~~~~~

 

Little Joe pulled off his left boot and stood holding both his boots to his chest while listening for sounds in the quiet house.  Smiling, he sauntered toward the stairs.  His smile dropped from his face as he saw a large, dark figure emerge from the deeper shadows at the foot of the staircase.

“So, just getting home, are ya?”  Hoss’s voice, though barely more than a whisper, was a wee bit loud for Little Joe’s liking.

“Shhhhh, you’ll wake somebody.”

“Like Adam, maybe, or Pa?”

One would be near as bad as the other, and you know it! Little Joe chose to ignore the question.  “What are you doing up anyway?”

“Not sneaking in after midnight.”

“I’m not sneaking!”  Hoss simply nudged the boots in his brother’s hands.  “I was being considerate of others who might be sleeping.”

“Who you hoped would be sleeping.”  Hoss chuckled softly; Little Joe shrugged. “I woke up hungry and was gonna make a sandwich.  Do you want one?”

Mrs. Simms being a far inferior cook to Hop Sing, Little Joe shrugged again.  “Sure.” The two brothers made their way into the kitchen and lit a small lamp.  Joe took a seat on the end of the table while Hoss began slicing pieces of the leftover roast from dinner.

“I would’ve thought Mr. Simms would’ve chased ya home earlier than it seems he did.”  Hoss glanced sideways to observe his brother’s reaction.

Little Joe shifted, ducked his head, and cleared his throat. Actually, he did, but Leonora’s window has that big tree right in front of it.  Who’d have thought that half listening to Miss Jones read that Romeo and Juliet would come in handy one day?  “Sometimes I think Mr. Simms would like to chase me all the way to San Francisco.”

“Leonora’s his little gal, Joe.  Papas always want to chase away every boy who comes around their little girls, it’s to be expected.”

“I guess.”

“You ain’t been giving Mr. Simms no extra reason to give chase, have ya, Short Shanks?”

Little Joe bit his lower lip.  “Pa’s taught me better, besides Leonora’s a lady.”

“Of course she is; I thought nothing different.”

Little Joe sighed.  “She’s a lady, a good Christian, and well-brought up, and even though we’re engaged, well, she wouldn’t, and I would never expect her to.  I just really wish she would!

“I know.”  Hoss finished one sandwich and handed it to Little Joe.  “Won’t be much longer until you’ll be her husband and not just her betrothed.  Then, well, then I think you’ll be glad ya waited.”

“You think?”

“Not having first-hand experience being a husband, I only can think.  Still, well, then it will be as special as your love for Leonora, as least to my way of thinking.”

Special? Little Joe took a bite of sandwich to avoid chewing on his lower lip. “You don’t think it could be special with someone who’s not your wife?”

Hoss kept his eyes on the sandwich he was constructing, and Little Joe could only see the blush that tinged his brother’s neck and checks.  “I don’t think it would be special with just any female, like not with them women in…”  Hoss let his words fade.

“What women where?”

“Never you mind, little brother.”

“I may be littler than you, but in two weeks I’m going to be a married man, and you aren’t even engaged.  I don’t know why you think…”  Little Joe sputtered and let out a loud snort.  “You’re near as bad as Adam about some things.”

Hoss turned and leaned back against a cupboard.  “Guess Adam and I both are gonna have to think different about some things when it comes to you.”

“You and Adam and Pa.”

“You best not hold out too much hope when it comes to Pa; you’re always gonna be his baby.”

Little Joe kicked his foot toward his brother, but Hoss was beyond the reach of Joe’s boot.  “There’s some things I wouldn’t exactly want to discuss with Pa anyway.”  Little Joe gave his brother a glare followed by a look of supplication.  “What women, Hoss?”

Hoss sighed.  “Them painted women in San Francisco.”

“Painted women in San Francisco!”  Little Joe’s exclamation held much more volume than Hoss’s voice had all evening.

“Shhh, or ya will wake Pa.”  Hoss felt the warmth rising up his neck into his cheeks.

Little Joe’s eyes narrowed.  “When… No, I know.  It was when Adam and you went up to San Francisco after your twenty-first birthday and neither one of you would let me come.  I begged and begged, and ya both said no.”

“Pa said no.”

Little Joe snorted.  “The two of you had it planned, going and seeing them painted women, didn’t you?  That’s why I couldn’t get you to say I should go.”

“It ain’t like it’s the onliest place we went.  Besides, you weren’t even fifteen yet, Short Shanks.”

“I was old enough…”  Little Joe watched Hoss’s eyebrow rise.  “Well, I was old enough to at least go see.”  Joe crossed his arms around his middle and glared.

Hoss shook his head.  “We didn’t go down on the Barbary Coast.  Adam ain’t no fool; and neither of us was looking to get shanghaied.  We went to this high-class gentleman’s club where a friend of Adam’s is a member.  They don’t let nobody who ain’t twenty-one in the door.  Nobody, Joe.”

“But Adam took you?” Bet he wouldn’t take me if I was fifty.  Little Joe exhaled through his nose in a long, loud huff.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Tell me.”  It was both a demand and a plea.

Hoss left the sandwich fixings and took a seat.  “Okay, but you better never say a word to Pa, or I’ll pound ya right into the ground.  Do you hear me?”

“I hear ya!”

Hoss rubbed his hand through his hair.  “Maybe, well, maybe…since you’re betrothed and all.”  Hoss cleared his throat.  “It weren’t really like I’d thought it would be.”

“What was it like then?”

“Well, it was a really swanky place with marble and red velvet and gilded mirrors.”

Little Joe rolled his eyes.  I don’t really care about the furnishings.

“Anyways, there was music, and there were lots of men in evening clothes drinking and playing cards and…”

“And?”

“There were women sitting with the men or around on the settees.”

“Pretty women?”

Hoss nodded and shrugged at the same time.

“What were they wearing?”

“Some were wearing thin, silky dresses and some…”

“What?”

“Some was wearing less than that.  Lacy less-than-thats.”

“No dresses?”  Little Joe’s voice had become a horse whisper.

“No, but, well, they weren’t naked, but ya could see a lot more than a fellow should be seeing of some woman he don’t even know.  Some of the lacy things Adam said were called negligees.”

“Negligees?”

“Yep.  And there was all different kinds of women:  tall and small, blonde-haired and black and brown, even a couple with red hair.  There were lots of curls and ribbons, sparkly earbobs, and the smell of perfume.”

“All different kinds.”  Little Joe grew glassy eyed with the imagining.  “It must have been something.”

“It was, but…”

“But what?”

Hoss shifted and ran his hand once more through his hair.  “Um, umm, I guess it was the fard.”

“The fard?”

“That’s why they call them painted women, Joe.  They had all farded their faces.  Old and young, the fard was there covering their faces making them look, well, they looked like dolls.”

“Dolls?”  Is that a bad thing?  I’ve called Leonora my beautiful doll.  “Hoss, sometimes…  It’s supposed to make them look like men want women to look: fair skin, red lips…    They looked pretty, didn’t they?”

“Yea, they looked pretty like them porcelain dolls and china figurines in the big mercantile stores are pretty, but…

“But?”

“There was this one little, bitty mite of a thing in pink came over and sat on my lap.”  Hoss swallowed and dropped his voice to a bare whisper.  “I, well, you know, she was sitting on my lap and, well, she was offering and …  Then I looked at her face, and it was, well, with all the fard, the powder and paint, it was like looking at a mask, like I couldn’t really see her, just a doll’s face, and, well, I guess I want a real girl not a doll for that.” Hoss sighed.

“So you didn’t?”

Hoss shook his head.  “We drank and gambled, and well, I got me an eyeful.  Then we went back to the hotel.”

“But you wanted to.”

“Yea, of course, but…  I wanted to something powerful but not that way, not with no China doll.”

Little Joe’s shoulders slumped.  His voice barely reached his brother’s ears.  “It would have been a sin.”

Hoss looked straight into his little brother’s eyes.  “The sin would’ve been in using her like she, well, like she had no more feelings, no more soul, than a doll.”

“I’d never want to just use a woman, Hoss.”  I never wanted to just use Leonora.  I asked to her marry me.

“I know, little brother.  You want better than that.”  Hoss reached over and squeezed Little Joe’s shoulder.  “You’re going to have something so much better.  Before long you’re gonna have Leonora and something so much better.”

 

~~~~~

 

Little Joe ran his finger over the inked names and dates: a marriage, a birth, a marriage, a birth, a marriage, his birth.  Repeating the process, he reread them and then read them for a third time.

“Your marriage will be recorded next.”  Little Joe startled. “Pa!”  He quickly closed his father’s large Bible.  “I, I was just…”

“Have I ever denied you the Bible, son?”  Ben Cartwright sat down next to Little Joe on the edge of the bed.

“No, but…  I know I shouldn’t have just come in and, well, I know better; it’s your Bible.”

“It’s our family Bible.”  Ben watched his son relax.  “You’ve seen those entries before though.”  Ben’s tone conveyed to Little Joe not just his father’s observation but also a question.

“You gave up the sea when you married Adam’s mother?”

“I did.”

“Because you loved her?”

“Because I loved her, and we had another dream.”

“What, what if she hadn’t shared that dream, Pa?  Would you have given up your dream for her?”

Ben sighed.  “Supposition about the past is no surer than supposition about the future.”  Ben cleared his throat.  “Sharing that dream was part of our loving each other, but, yes, if the choice had been my dream of the West or Elizabeth, I would have chosen Elizabeth.”

Little Joe’s voice became softer.  “If she, if she had come west with you and Adam, well, if the three of you had stopped in that town and went into Mama Inger’s store.”

“Joe.”   Little Joe wasn’t sure if his name was an admonishment or an entreaty from his father.

“I don’t; it ain’t just curiosity, Pa.  You’ve been married three times, and I know you loved them all.  I just… I want to understand; I need to understand about marriage and all.”

Ben placed his hand against the back of his son’s neck.  “The man who married Elizabeth loved her with his heart and soul, and if she had been with me in that town Inger Borgstrom would have been no more than a lovely and kind woman we met on the way.  But the man who walked into that store was a different man, a changed man, and he fell in love heart and soul too.  Then yet a different man, a man changed by what had happened in his life, went to New Orleans and fell in love heart and soul with your mother.  Can you understand that, Joseph?”

Little Joe nodded.  “I think so.”

Ben’s hand squeezed Joe’s neck lightly.  “The marriage vows state until death do us part, and in this life that is a sad truth.”  Ben patted Little Joe’s back.  “But that’s the past, son, and we have a happy future to dwell upon instead.  Shortly, we’ll record the marriage of Joseph Francis Cartwright to Leonora Anne Simms and then, well, I intend to fill that page with my sons’ marriages and the births and marriages of my grandchildren.”

Little Joe ran his hand over the leather cover of the Bible on his lap.  “There must be ten pages for recording in here.”

“It’s my hope that another hand will keep the record going when the time comes.”

Little Joe gave a shake of his head, not wanting to consider a time when his father’s hand would not be there.

“Was your birth recorded in a Bible, Pa?”

“Yes, in one much larger and older with generations of Cartwrights listed on multiple pages.”

Little Joe saw the wistfulness in his father’s eyes.  “Where?”

“My grandfather recorded my birth in a Bible that was handed down through five generations of Cartwrights from father to eldest son.  My uncle Patrick was the eldest son.”

“Oh.  He had a son too, I suppose.”

“Six, six sons and two daughters.  He recorded my marriage to Elizabeth in that Bible.  I wrote to him of my marriage to Inger but there was no answer; I can’t be sure he even received my letter.”  Ben sighed and tapped the Bible gently.  “But we have a place for the new generations, right here, to be recorded for all to read along with God’s holy word.”  Ben squeezed Little Joe’s shoulder.  “You have my permission to open that Bible anytime, son, anytime.  In fact, from time to time a man needs to remind himself that the vows he took in marriage are holy, and he is bound to his wife by God.”

Little Joe swallowed.  Holy and bound by God.  Joe shifted and set the Bible on his father’s bedside table.  “Elizabeth Stoddard was a lady, a well brought up Christian lady.”  Little Joe bit his lip.

Ben’s brow furrowed.  “What is it, Joseph?”

“How did you know you wanted, well, a life and dream with her, Pa, not, well, not just what a good Christian lady would only give her husband?”

Ben placed his hands on Joe’s shoulders and turned his son to look directly into his eyes.  Little Joe’s eyes dropped and then his chin.  Ben cleared his throat.  “That gift is a benefit of marriage, Joseph, one of its blessings, but it should not be the reason, the motivation for a marriage.”  Ben’s hands dropped from Little Joe’s shoulders.  His tone became stern.  “When you came to me, you told me that you loved Leonora and wanted above all else for her to be your wife.  Are you telling me now that what you wanted was to bed her?”

Little Joe shook his head frantically.  “No, I love her.  She says she loves me.  When I’m not with her, I want to be.  I want…  I want to make her happy.  I want to be married.  I’ll take good care of her.”

Ben took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  “Joe.”  A few seconds passed.  “Many years ago, I knew a man; he sailed on The Wanderer.  On ship over a long voyage men talk; sometimes they share even very private thoughts.  Anyway, this man was married.  He told me that early in his marriage his wife had lost a child.  That the doctor had come to him after that loss and told him that his wife should never try to carry a child again.  That it would be dangerous; that she could die from the attempt.  He loved his wife; he desired her, but he was afraid.  He said that it was after talking to the doctor that he had signed onto a ship for the first time.”

“So that they wouldn’t?”

“So that the chance would not be taken.  Joseph, would you want to spend the rest of your life with Leonora if the doctor told you she could not, uh, have wifely relations?”  Ben waited for an answer, but Little Joe did not speak.  That’s an answer in itself.  I should have insisted that they wait.  They’re so young.

“Folks say… they say every man has some doubts, that all grooms get cold feet, but it’s nothing, nothing but nerves.  Anyways, we’re promised to each other; I couldn’t just break that promise, even if I…”  Do I want to?  I love Leonora.  I do!   “I love Leonora, Pa; I do, and I’m gonna try to be the best husband I can.”

Ben reached out and squeezed Joe’s shoulder.  “You are betrothed, Joseph, and that is a serious promise, but you must, you must be sure before you make those holy vows that what both you and Leonora want is to be bound together as one for the rest of your life and nothing less.”  His fingers tightened again as he felt a shudder go through his son.  “I, your brothers and I, shall support you in whatever you decide is right.”

 

~~~~~

 

“The lace is French, Joe, and there’s thirty buttons down the back.  It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen, and Momma said I can wear my grandmother’s pearl earbobs.”  Leonora’s arms slipped around Little Joe’s waist, and she snuggled against his side.  “I want to be beautiful for you; I want to be the most beautiful bride in the world.”

“You will be, Leonora.”

“I’ll be a good wife too.  I can bake and sew and…  I want children; we’ll have such pretty babies, Joe; just you wait and see.”

“They’ll be beautiful if they take after their momma.”

“The girls can look like me, but all of the boys will look like you.”  Leonora’s sigh was filled with satisfaction. “It will be perfect.”

Perfect? “Do you think so?”

“Of course!”  Leonora’s squeezed Little Joe and sighed.  “We’ll have the perfect wedding and then the perfect marriage, and our children will be angels, perfect little angles.”

“Leonora, you know… you do know that nothing’s really perfect?”

Leonora’s arms dropped as she pulled away.  “But…  You don’t think we’ll have the perfect marriage?”

“I…”  He saw the stricken look in her eyes.  “I love you.”  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I want you; more than anything I want you.”  He kissed her again, deeply and slowly. When their lips parted, she settled her cheek against his chest.

“I want you too, Joe.  My heart’s beating fast as yours, so I know I’m right, and that’s it’s going to be perfect.  You don’t think anybody but my perfect love could make my heart beat this way, now do you?”

Little Joe’s hand stroked her curls. “Am I the first boy to ever kiss you?”  He said it gently, but she pulled away, her eyes flashing at the insult.

“Of course!  I never…well, once but not really, not… I was eleven; he was just a little boy, we…  I’ve never let another man kiss me.”  She dropped her eyes and fiddled with the ruffle on the end of her sleeve. “Do you think I’m the kind of girl that…  Do you think I’m that kind of girl because I let you kiss me before we were engaged?”

“No, no, I never thought such a thing, never.  I just…”  He stood up and took three steps away from her and then turned to look out over the lake.  “Leonora, I’m not perfect.  I just…  Marriage isn’t a fairy tale.” He turned and dropped to his knees, staring across the space between them.  “Have you thought, really thought about how it will be?  Not the wedding; not having people call you Mrs. Cartwright; not being a married woman that doesn’t have to listen to her pa, but about really being my wife?”

Leonora’s hands reached toward him then dropped into her lap.  “I don’t understand, Joe; I don’t understand what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.  I want you to think.  Will you want to kiss me when I come in smelling of sweat and horse and cows?  Will you hug me when I walk my muddy boots across the floor you just mopped or track everything you try to avoid in a cow pasture across your carpets?  Will you think our babies are angels when their diapers leak on your new dress or they cry all night?”  Little Joe’s voice had increased in volume with each question.

“Joe, why are you hollering at me?”  He watched the tears drip from her eyes and drew in a slow breath.

“I’m sorry. I ain’t; at my house this ain’t anywhere near hollering.”  He moved closer and took her hands in his. What would she do if I bellowed like Pa?  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to holler.  I don’t want you to be upset; I don’t.  I just…  Think a minute, Leonora, about what I asked.”

She drew in several shaky breaths.  “Doesn’t Hop Sing mop the floors?”

“Hop Sing won’t be there when we have a house of our own.”

“But we can hire someone.”  She raised her eyes to his face.  “Can’t we?”

“I suppose, but what, what if we couldn’t?”

“Well, I’d mop floors then and wash clothes and whatever.”  She lifted her chin.  “I’d be doing it in my own house when I decided, so it would be different.”

“Mud’s mud and stinky clothes stink in anybody’s house.  Lots of things have to be done when they need to be done even if you don’t want to do them.  Adam’s told me that a million times.  Only when you’re grown and married, you’re the one who has to make yourself do them.”

“Don’t you want to marry me?”  He watched as she buried her face in her hands.  “I want to marry you.”

“But do you want to be married to me, not some perfect lover, but Little Joe Cartwright who hollers and has a quick temper and doesn’t want to get out of bed in the morning?”

She pulled her legs up, hugged them with her arms, and sobbed into her skirts.  He went to her and pulled her into his lap.  “Don’t cry; you don’t have to cry.  We’ll be married, and we’ll be happy, and our children will be angels.” Her sobs quieted, and she wiped her eyes with her skirt.

“But you…”

“I’m your betrothed, Leonora.  A betrothal is a promise, and any man who knows me will tell you that Little Joe Cartwright always keeps a promise.”  He stood then, helping her to her feet.  “We best gather the picnic things.  I told your father that I would have you home before dark.”

She nodded. Little Joe stowed the basket and the blankets in the buggy and settled Leonora. Walking around to the other side, his eyes fastened onto the bouquet of wildflowers lying on the seat.

“We were going to give those to your mother.”  Leonora’s voice sounded raspy and strained.

“I’ll… it’s not far.”  His hand pointed vaguely.   “If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Can I still come with you?”

“Of course.”

They walked in silence.  Leonora waited a few steps back from the grave as Little Joe placed the flowers in front of the headstone.

“It’s a pretty place.”

“She loved it here.”

“You were very young when she passed.”

“Yes, I barely…  I haven’t many real memories of her, but I feel…  I come here sometimes because I feel I can talk to her here.”

“Oh.”  She took a step toward him.  “Have you talked to her about marrying me?”

“No, not yet.”

“Papa told Mama I was too young to be marrying, but she told him to remember that she was only sixteen when she married him.”

“And they have a happy marriage.”  He turned to face her and waited as if for an assurance.

“Sometimes.”  She turned and started to walk back to the buggy.  Little Joe fell into step beside her.  The ride to the Simms house was a very quiet one.  Joe helped Leonora from the buggy and escorted her to the porch.

“Hop Sing will have supper ready about seven tomorrow, but you and your folks are welcome to come as early as you wish.”

“I’ll tell Papa.  Joe?”

“Yes.”

“I need… I need to talk to my mama about … about really being married.  I think you should talk to your mama about our marriage too.”

“And then we’ll talk together?”

“Then we’ll talk.”

 

~~~~~

 

The Simms had gone home.  Though it was still early, the discussion had taken quite some time and left everyone feeling weary.  Pa had taken himself up to bed, but Adam and Hoss had waited for a while and then went out into the night.  Looking around, they stepped off the porch.  Glancing at each other, they walked out to where he stood leaning against the pasture fence.  Adam went to stand on his right while Hoss took the spot on Little Joe’s left.  It was a few minutes before Adam spoke.

“There is no denying that folks are going to talk.”

“They always do.”  Little Joe’s eyes continued to study the horses in the pasture.

“Fighting with some barfly ain’t gonna help that.”  Hoss’s arm just barely brushed against Little Joe’s.

Little Joe shrugged.  “Fighting a barfly is gonna be a darn sight better than fighting Mrs. Peabody or one of the other church ladies.” Adam’s arm bumped Joe’s with significant force.  “Okay, no fighting, at least no more than usual.”  Adam and Hoss exchanged a look over their little brother’s head.  “Adam, that finishing school, it’s a good place, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t.”

“I know; I just want…  I don’t want her…”

“It’s a fine school.  I think, I really think she will enjoy it.  If she doesn’t, there is nothing keeping her there.”

“Seems to me the little gal was fine with the idea, but, like Adam says, she’s free to change her mind.  Her parents didn’t seem to be forcing things.”

“Her folks, Pa, we, everyone just wants what is best, and, well, a year isn’t forever.  When she comes back, if…well, there’s time enough then for a wedding.”  Adam turned his head to study Little Joe.

“It will cost Pa good bit.”

“Pa’s not concerned about that, and money spent on education is never a waste.”

Little Joe set his chin on his arms.  “Which saying do you think is true?”

“Most sayings have a good bit of truth in them.  If you want me to give an opinion, you need to give me my choices, kid.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder or out of sight out of mind?”

Adam cleared his throat.  “It depends.”

“On what?”

“Well…”

“On what two folks really have between them.”  Hoss’s observation turned both his brothers to look at him.  “It’s the right decision, Short Shanks.  I feel it.”

“Where?  In your bones.”  Neither of his brothers responded.  Little Joe dropped his eyes to the ground.  “I broke a promise.”

“Joe, you are not the first Cartwright to break a promise.  You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

“But…”

Hoss placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder and turned his brother to face him fully.  “Pa taught us about keeping promises, but he also taught us something else.  When did he say was the onliest time when a body should break one?”

“When keeping it would cause more harm than breaking it.”  Joe sighed.

Adam cleared his throat. “There’s another adage that I imagine came from people’s experience.”

“What?”

“Marry in haste; repent in leisure.”  Both of his brothers’ voices delivered the answer in unison.

Adam exchanged another glance with Hoss.  “I think for his next birthday I’ll pay one of the ladies at church to embroider that saying on a sampler to hang over his bed.”

Hoss seemed to be pondering the idea until Little Joe’s elbow found his brother’s side.  “I don’t need no samplers!”

Adam smiled.  “Maybe not.  You made a very mature decision, baby brother.”

“Baby!”  Indignation spat the word from Little Joe’s mouth.

Hoss placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder once again.  “Now, now, Adam don’t mean it that way, and you know it.”

Little Joe rolled his eyes.

“I don’t, you know, or else my little brother and I would not have arranged with Pa to take you on a trip to San Francisco.”

“San Francisco!  Pa said we could go to San Francisco?”

“He did.”  Adam’s dimples deepened, and Hoss’s grin revealed the gap in his teeth.

“And being the oldest, Adam volunteered his bank account for the entire trip.”  Hoss clapped his older brother on the back.

“I can’t believe…  Pa said we three could go to San Francisco?”

“Our father trusts my judgment, Joseph, and I promised him we would not set foot on the Barbary Coast.”

Little Joe exchanged a look with Hoss.  “Did you promise him we wouldn’t go anywhere else?”

“No.”

Hoss gave a slight shake of his head and mouthed twenty-one.

Little Joe smiled as the three brothers headed back toward the house.  I’m sure I can look like I’m twenty-one if I try!

 

The End

 

Written for the 2017 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.

The words/phrases dealt to me were:

engagement, at the monastery, faud, duet, tender

Tags:  Old Ned