* Four lines of dialogue taking place between Ben and Hoss appear in italics in Chapter 1. This dialogue is from “The Stillness Within.”

*This is part 1 of a 3 part posting.

 

Prologue

Adam read the letter for the third time since arriving home. When he finished the last line – Love, Pa – he leaned the back of his head against the soft velvet of the settee, and stared at the ceiling. With slow, gentle strokes, Adam absently ran his hand over the German Shepherd sitting regally at his feet.

The man smiled a little as the word “Pa” ran through his mind. It was a term he rarely heard here in Boston. “Papa” or “Father” were the common forms of address for one’s paternal parent; “Da” the chosen form of the Irish immigrants. But to Adam Cartwright, his father would forever be Pa. That simple one syllable word still conjured up warm feelings of comfort and safety. Feelings forty-two year old Adam hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in for several years now. For many reasons, it wouldn’t do to grow homesick. Not the least of which was that, from the day Adam left Nevada, he’d never intended to return.

But this time it was Adam who Ben Cartwright was seeking comfort from. Or if nothing else, answers. Though his father hadn’t expressed sorrow in the letter, Adam sensed it just as clearly as if he were standing next to Pa in the big great room of the Ponderosa ranch house. Worry, now that was easy to discern, because it was the one emotion Pa openly spoke of. Adam had that paragraph memorized, and could hear the tone and cadence of Pa’s voice each time he read it.

“I’m worried about him, Adam. I don’t know what else I can do to help him. He can’t face what’s happened. He won’t accept it. He continues to deny that it’s permanent. He continues to deny that it’s doubtful he’ll ever see again.”

It was the light scent of perfume that first announced her arrival. Adam was so preoccupied by his father’s letter, that he hadn’t heard her walking through the dining room, or crossing the foyer. But then, all of his senses had sharpened since he’d taken the position at the institute. He no longer relied only on his hearing or eyesight for his brain to register someone’s presence. 

He lifted his head and smiled. He held out his left arm, and used his voice to guide her.

“There you are. It’s past time the most beautiful woman in Boston comes to the parlor to spend the evening with me.”

Without being told to, the dog got up and moved to lie beside the brick hearth of the fireplace so the woman wouldn’t trip over him.

She felt along the edge of the settee, her sightless eyes fixed on the portrait of Abel Stoddard that hung over the mantel. She settled next to Adam, her smile soft and gentle, just like the voice he’d fallen in love with the first time he’d heard it.

“Mrs. O’Connell needed help with the dishes.”

“Mrs. O’Connell is paid to do the dishes. You don’t need to help her.”

“Adam, that’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Why is it so terrible? She worked for my grandfather for twenty years, and now she works for me. She never seems to need help doing anything until you arrive. Then she holds you hostage in the kitchen, while leaving me alone to pine for you.”

The young woman chuckled. “Amongst the many things that can be said in praise of Bridget O’Connell – she keeps a tidy house, and is a better chaperone than any father in Boston.”

“That she is,” Adam said, while placing a kiss on Laddie’s cheek. “I wish she’d keep in mind, however, that you’re several years beyond the age where a chaperone is necessary, and I’m well beyond it.”

As though she’d been listening from the dining room, which she probably had been, Bridget O’Connell’s pudgy form suddenly appeared. She wagged a stubby finger in Adam’s direction, and with a heavy Irish brogue imparted, “No woman who’s not betrothed is ever past the age of needin’ a chaperon if she fancies her reputation, and don’t yeh be fergettin’ that, Adam Cartwright.”

Adam mumbled under his breath, “Now I know why I miss Hop Sing on some days,” though to humor his housekeeper, he smiled and acknowledged, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Mr. Brockington’s driver is outside with the carriage, waitin’ to take the missy home, he is.”

“Thank you,” Adam said, then said it again, and then was forced to say it a third time. 

“I said thank you, Mrs. O’Connell,” Adam stressed, hinting to his housekeeper that it was time for her to return to the kitchen.

She gave an indignant huff, muttered, “Can’t see me one good reason why yeh just don’t marry Miss Laddie so her da doesn’t have ta’ send fer her,” then bustled off to the kitchen to finish drying the dishes, and to start the dough rising for the next morning’s biscuits.

One of the things Adam loved about Laddie Brockington, and there were many, but the one that he loved about her the most right then, was that she didn’t use Mrs. O’Connell’s blunt manner of speaking as a tool to get him to propose to her. The woman said nothing about Bridget O’Connell’s views on matrimony, but instead, changed the subject.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. If I didn’t spar with Mrs. O’Connell at least once a day, I’d think I’d come home to the wrong house.”

Laddie smiled briefly at the man’s joke. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No?”

“No. What I meant was, you seemed upset when I first arrived this evening. Then you left the dining room rather abruptly after we finished eating.”

Adam picked up a small, delicate hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but it’s apparent something’s been on your mind for several weeks now.” She teased, “Not another woman, I hope.”

“Not unless her name is Joe.”

“Jo?”

“As in Joseph.”

“Oh. Well, my father named me Laddie, so I suppose it’s possible there’s another man somewhere who longed so greatly for a son, that he named his poor little girl Joseph.”

“I suppose, but not in this case.”

Paper crinkled as Adam picked the letter up from his lap and skimmed it again.

“Do you have a new student for me?”

A few seconds passed, before Adam realized Laddie had spoken to him.

“Pardon?”

“A student. I heard paper rustle. I assume you’ve received a letter from someone who wants to hire a teacher during our summer break.”

“I did.”

“Then where am I off to?”

“You’re not off to anywhere.”

“Oh. Is the student coming to us in September, then? To the institute?”

“No.”

“Then why aren’t I being sent to teach him?”

“Because I’m afraid this student will be too much for even the formidable Miss Brockington to take on.”

“But it’s said that the rowdiest of boys shake in their knickers when they hear the swoosh of my skirts.”

Adam chuckled. “That may be true, but the boy I’m thinking of hasn’t worn knickers in many years now, and like his oldest brother, he’s too stubborn for his own good.”

Laddie tilted her head. “His oldest brother?”

“Me. This letter is from my father.” Adam glanced at the paper again. “My brother Joe. . .Pa sent me a telegram a few weeks ago, Laddie. There was an accident when my brothers were storing some nitroglycerin. Joe lost his sight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I suppose because, like Pa, I was holding out hope that Joe’s eyesight would return a week or two after the explosion.”

“And was there such hope?”

“Initially, the family doctor seemed to think so. But now. . .”

“But now things have changed in that regard,” Laddie surmised.

“Apparently so. My father wants to hire a teacher.”

“You specifically?”

“Not that he stated. His exact request is that I send someone I consider to be ‘highly qualified, and the best possible candidate to teach Joseph.’ I just so happen to think that candidate is me.”

“But you teach geography and literature at the institute, not skills for the blind, like I do.”

“That’s true, but according to what Pa says in his letter, Joe’s refusing all suggestions of a teacher.”

“And you think he’s the first blind man who’s said he doesn’t want help?”

“No, but I know Joe. I know how cantankerous he can be when he puts his mind to it.”

“And you think he’ll be any less cantankerous for you?”

Adam shook his head, then remembered that Laddie couldn’t see him. 

“No. Actually, he’ll probably be even more cantankerous, just because it is me.”

“Then why are you so insistent upon being his teacher?”

“Because. . .” 

Adam’s eyes traveled to the framed photograph he kept on the wooden mantel that was taken shortly before he left Virginia City six years ago. His father was seated in the picture, his three sons forming what almost seemed to be a protective semi-circle around him – Hoss directly behind Pa’s chair because of his girth, and then Adam standing on Pa’s right, and Joe on Pa’s left, with a hand on Pa’s shoulder. The photographer hadn’t told Joe to touch their father. Joe had done so of his own accord, because that was the type of relationship he’d always had with Pa. Sometimes stormy, yes. Sometimes loud and volatile too, when Pa and Joe lost their tempers with one another over something Joe had done, or wanted to do, or was determined to do, despite Pa’s admonishments against it. But close, as well. They’d always been close in a way Adam envied, but could never quite attain, simply because it wasn’t in his nature to be an open book in the way Joe was to his family.

“Because why, Adam?”

The man’s eyes were drawn from the photograph he’d stared at more times than he’d ever confess to since returning from sea and settling in this house he’d inherited from his deceased grandfather.

“Because he’s my brother.” Adam reached out and gently wound one of Laddie’s pale, corkscrew curls around his index finger. “Because he’s my little brother, and at one time he thought I could walk on water. He probably hasn’t thought that in many years now, and rightfully so, but when he was a kid, he was eager to learn anything from me that I was willing to teach him. Maybe. . .just maybe,” Adam said softly, as his eyes moved to linger on Joe’s image in the picture, “I can convince him to learn from me again.”

Chapter 1

Ben walked out of the house. He slowed his pace, then paused as he stepped from the wooden porch to the dirt. Cochise stood in the middle of the ranch yard, his front hooves dancing with a nervousness Ben rarely saw in the gelding. Especially when it was Joe who was saddling him. But today the horse was confused. He knew Joe’s voice and scent, but he didn’t understand why his master was suddenly so clumsy. Or so Ben surmised were the horse’s thoughts.

Ben felt like he was watching a child attempting to saddle a horse with a blindfold on. Joe reached out a hand, waving it in the air until it came in contact with Cochise’s side. He took a step forward, trying to hoist the saddle over the horse’s back. Except by the time Joe got the saddle in the air, the skittish Cochise had pranced three steps away from him. As the saddle hit the ground, Joe cursed, “Damn you, Cochise! You know better than that.”

Ben shook his head. He’d never heard Joe cuss his beloved mount. He stood silently watching Joe repeat this routine four more times. How many times it had been repeated prior to his arrival, Ben couldn’t guess. By the sweat staining the front of Joe’s shirt and running down his face, Ben figured it’d been going on for quite a while. Although he didn’t have any concerns that Cochise would get spooked to the point that he’d rear up and injure Joe, he didn’t like to see an animal worked beyond what it could tolerate. And Cochise, like Joe, was reaching that level.

Ben walked toward his son. “I thought you were in your room.”

Joe’s head turned toward the direction of his father’s voice. Ben still wasn’t used to the sightless eyes, or the way they didn’t land on his face when he spoke to Joe, but instead, stared off somewhere beyond his shoulders. His heart ached at how dull those eyes were now. And his heart ached over how, when Joe had lost his sight, he’d also lost his enthusiasm for life. Ben longed to see those eyes sparkle with mischief again, even if Ben himself was the intended victim of one of Joe’s pranks.

How we take for granted the little things until they’re snatched from us. The practical jokes, and the contests Hoss was always being entered in, and the get-rich-quick schemes I used to admonish Joe for as a waste of time. . .I’d gladly get enjoyment from all of those things, if only he could have his eyesight back.

Joe’s voice broke into his father’s thoughts. 

“What would I be doing in my room? Staring at the four walls I can’t see?”

Bitterness so unlike Joe. . .or unlike him before the accident, was now present in almost every word he spoke. Ben hated the sound of it. On some days he was torn between telling Joe to stop it, or taking Joe in his arms and urging him to let out all of his fear, pain, and anger.

Like he’d been doing ever since the explosion that took Joe’s sight, Ben ignored the bitter words and kept his own tone calm and gentle.

“I think you’ve done enough here for today, Joseph.”

“It’s not enough, Pa. Until I get this saddle on Cochise, it’ll never be enough.”

“And if you get the saddle on him, just what are you planning to do?”

“Ride out and join Hoss rounding up strays.”

“Joe. . .”

“Don’t! Don’t say I can’t do it!”

“I’m sorry, son, but you can’t. At least not right now. But if you’ll let the teacher from the institute come, you might be surprised to discover how many skills you can learn.”

“No! I told you I don’t want her here.”

“Joseph–”

“No, Pa! No teacher. I’ll learn by myself. I don’t need anyone’s help. Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna be blind forever.” 

Ben sighed as he watched Joe bend over and search the ground for the saddle with his open palms. It was so apparent that he did need someone’s help, but until Joe was willing to admit that, Ben knew his son was destined to continue failing. Just like he was failing now, as he once again tried to saddle Cochise, and then tried two additional times. Joe finally flung the saddle aside and stomped toward the house.

“Joe. . .Joe, you and I can go find Hoss if that’s what you want! I’ll hitch up the buggy and–” 

“I don’t wanna ride in the buggy like some helpless woman! Just leave me alone, Pa! Leave me alone!”

Joe stumbled toward the house with his hands waving wildly in front of him. He ran into a hitching post, a porch support post, and then tripped over a chair, before he finally made it to the front door. Ben couldn’t begin to guess how many bruises had marred his son’s shins and arms in recent weeks. 

Ben threw his head back. He stared up at the sky as though he could look right through the clouds to heaven, and get an answer to the questions he’d asked so many times since the explosion.

Why? Why my son? Why did Joe have to lose his sight? What did he ever do to deserve this?

When the heavens didn’t open and rain answers down upon Ben, he picked up the saddle.

“Come on, Cochise. Let’s get you back in the barn.”

The horse followed Ben without the man having to get a halter for him. Cochise walked into his stall, seemingly relieved that his master was no longer demanding things of him that he couldn’t comprehend.

Ben carried the saddle to the tack room, then made sure Cochise had fresh water. 
He rubbed the horse down with a towel, patted his flank, murmured, “Good boy,” in way of thanking Cochise for putting up with Joe’s short temper, and exited the barn.

Ben walked to the front porch and righted the chair Joe had knocked over. He sat down in it, staring out at the dry ranch yard. They needed rain badly, but rain was the least of Ben’s concerns. He thought back to the conversation he and Hoss had the previous evening after supper. 

“What do you think he’s gonna say when the teacher from the institute gets here?”

“Same thing he said when I suggested it in the first place. That he doesn’t want her here.”

“You know, Pa, maybe. . .maybe you shoulda’ told him you sent for her anyhow.”

“Yeah. . .maybe.”

Now Ben second-guessed himself once again. Maybe he shouldn’t have written Adam asking him to send a teacher. 

Adam was the administrator of the Boston Institute for the Blind, and taught classes at the school, too. Therefore, he was the logical person for Ben to seek advice from regarding how to help Joe. Adam was also the logical person to choose a teacher for Joe, because Ben knew without a doubt, that Adam would send the best teacher the school had to offer. Ben had told his son in a letter he’d mailed several weeks earlier, to spare no expense. He didn’t care how much the teacher cost him, or how long she stayed. 

Although Adam hadn’t identified the teacher, Ben felt certain the instructor Adam was sending was the one he often mentioned in his letters – Miss Brockington. Ben wasn’t foolish enough to think that it was only Miss Brockington’s teaching skills Adam was smitten with. His oldest son had written of the woman too often during the past year for Ben not to surmise Adam had feelings for her. And now she was due to arrive on a stage from Reno. Ben had wired Adam enough money to cover one month’s salary, a ticket on the Transcontinental Railroad, a ticket on the stage line, and other traveling expenses, such as food and lodging. Adam had telegraphed back that a teacher would be leaving Boston shortly, and gave an approximate due date for arrival at the Ponderosa. Without Joe’s knowledge, Ben had Hop Sing get the guest room ready.

“And make it. . .you know. . .pretty, because our guest is to be a young lady.”

“Hop Sing don’t know how to make pretty. Hop Sing work for Mr. Cartwright and sons too many years to make pretty. Room will look like room looks. If not good enough for young lady, then Hop Sing quit and go work for someone who not ask for pretty.”

Hop Sing had ended his tirade with his usual, “Humph!” and then stomped off to the kitchen. Despite the housekeeper’s assertion that he didn’t know how to make things pretty, the room had been aired out and dusted, the windows washed, fresh linens were on the bed, flowers bloomed from a vase sitting in the center of the bureau, and small, round soaps that smelled of violets and roses and lemons, along with dainty new towels, rested in fancy scalloped dishes on either side of the pitcher and bowl on the washstand. 

When Ben thanked Hop Sing for the hard work he’d put into fixing up the room, the man grumbled, “Yes, lots work. Hop Sing even go Miss Sadie’s Bath Shop to buy towels, and soaps, and dishes. Ladies point and giggle at Hop Sing, because men no go in ladies’ bath shop, but Mr. Cartwright say make room pretty, so Hop Sing do what he told.”

“Thank you. I appreciate all you went through to spruce up that room.” Ben reached in his front pocket for the roll of dollar bills he kept there. “I must owe you some money for the things you bought at Miss Sadie’s.”

Hop Sing studied Ben’s face a moment. “Will this teacher who come help Little Joe?”

“I hope so. Adam’s spoken highly of her in his letters.”

“Then you not owe Hop Sing anything. It good enough for Hop Sing if Missy Teacher help Little Joe so he not fall over things and be sad.”

Ben smiled at the man who’d been a part of his household since before Joe was born. He wished it were going to be as easy as Hop Sing made it sound. However, Ben had a feeling it would be anything but easy. 

That conversation took place several days earlier. The feeling that things wouldn’t be easy stayed with Ben. He didn’t know if he was making a mistake by not telling Joe a teacher was coming. He didn’t know if he’d made a mistake by sending for a teacher in the first place, after Joe was adamant that a teacher not be hired. But what was done was done. If there had been no delays during her travels, Miss Brockington would arrive tomorrow. Adam had stated in a telegraphed message that it would be best if Joe weren’t home when the teacher reached the Ponderosa. For that reason, Ben had already arranged for Candy to take Joe on a long ride the next day, and had asked Hop Sing to pack a lunch bucket for the two men. Ben didn’t care if they went by buggy, buckboard, or hiked the ranch on foot, just as long as Candy managed to get Joe away, and keep him away until late afternoon.

As Ben’s thoughts turned to the son who was now sitting alone somewhere in the house – mostly likely in his room with the door closed, staring at the four walls he couldn’t see, as Joe had so accurately stated – Ben decided it was worth dealing with Joseph’s fury when he discovered his father had gone against his wishes. If only Miss Brockington could show Joe how to feel useful again, if she could teach Joe the basic skills he needed to function in a world he couldn’t see, then Ben would gladly accept any blame Joe wanted to place at his feet for hiring her.

Adam knows what he’s doing, Ben assured himself. He wouldn’t send anyone to teach Joe but the best possible person. He knows Joe as well as Hoss and I do. He knows what kind of a person Joseph will respond to. He knows what kind of a person Joe will work hardest for. 

Ben couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his final thoughts.

I just hope this teacher won’t be scared off by Joe’s temper, and hightail it back to Boston before tomorrow’s even over. I hope Adam remembered how stubborn and hotheaded his little brother can be, and warned Miss Brockington that Joe’s bark is worse than his bite.

What Ben didn’t realize was that yes, the teacher knew very well how stubborn and hotheaded Joe could be. That’s why it was Adam Cartwright bound for Virginia City, and not Laddie Brockington.

Chapter 2

This had been Adam’s first trip on the Transcontinental Railroad. It certainly made traveling across the country a lot easier and quicker, than when he’d left Nevada in 1866. He’d journeyed by sea that time, leaving from San Francisco and sailing around South America, and then north along the Eastern coastline of the United States. The trip took almost four months, but Adam hadn’t minded. It allowed him to clear his head – and his heart – of Laura Dayton. And since he’d hired on as a crewmember in an effort to get his “sea legs” prior to arriving in Boston and starting work for his grandfather, the long journey also allowed Adam to gain some valuable experience. 

But this time, Adam was thankful for the luxury of the train line in operation just three years. His seafaring days had ended about the same time the Transcontinental Railroad welcomed her first cross-country passengers, and for numerous reasons, Adam had no desire to travel by ship again. 

The trip from Boston to Reno took just eight days. Adam stayed overnight in Reno, then caught a stage for Virginia City the next morning. Good weather and no breakdowns meant Adam arrived in Virginia City early that afternoon – exactly as he’d estimated. Had he been traveling during the winter months, the length of the trip would have been difficult to predict due to snowfall. Not even trains were yet able to travel through deep snow, though Adam had read predictions stating that within the next two decades, railway travel would become so sophisticated that even foul weather wouldn’t cause lengthy delays.

Though he hadn’t lived in the West for six years, Adam still favored a black cowboy hat over any type currently popular with men in the East. Right before the stage came to a stop in Virginia City, Adam pulled the brim of his hat down low on his forehead. If he could get to the Ponderosa without anyone recognizing him, it would be for the best. First of all, he didn’t want word of his impending arrival to reach his father or brothers, and second of all, he didn’t want to stop and answer questions that were no one’s business. 

Adam subtly studied the town while the stage driver untied his luggage from the rack. Virginia City had changed some since Adam left – grown larger, and contained an entire new section sprawling off to the south. He also caught sight of a new church and wondered if the Baptists, who used to meet in the back of Harper’s General Store, had finally raised enough funds to erect a building. He noticed the schoolhouse had expanded, too. It was no longer the one-room structure Adam and his brothers had attended, but now contained a second floor, and what appeared to be three additional classrooms on the first floor.

The stage driver’s voice interrupted Adam’s observations. 

“Need help gettin’ these bags somewhere, Mister?”

“Um. . .yes. Thanks.”

“There’s a hotel just ‘cross the way.”

“I see that, but I won’t be staying there.”

“No?”

“Uh huh. You mind helping me get my luggage to the livery stable down the street? I’ll pay you for your trouble.”

“Nope, don’t mind ‘et all,” the man said, while hoisting a suitcase with each hand. 

Adam led the way, carrying a valise that was just large enough for two changes of clothing and daily necessities, like his toothbrush, toothpowder, and a comb. 

When they arrived inside the livery, Adam paid the driver for his trouble just like he’d promised. The man hurried back to his stage, leaving Adam alone to negotiate whatever business he needed to.

Adam didn’t recognize the boy who took care of him at Jensen’s Livery. An educated guess told him that the tow-headed youth he estimated to be thirteen or fourteen was one of Tom Jensen’s eight sons – or at least Tom had eight sons back when Adam left Virginia City. By now, he could have several more for all Adam knew. Regardless, Adam didn’t ask the boy his name, because he didn’t want to in turn, be asked his name. He paid to rent a horse, thankful there were no other customers in the livery, and that Tom wasn’t present, either. Though the boy didn’t appear to have any idea who his customer was, Tom would know Adam the second he spotted him. 

“Son, can I pay you to come pick up the horse tomorrow, and bring these two suitcases along as well?”

“Yes, Sir. Just tell me when and where.”

“When is whatever time’s convenient for you. Where is the Ponderosa.”

The boy led a bay gelding from a stall and threw a saddle blanket across his back. 

“You’re goin’ to visit the Cartwrights?”

“I am.”

“Hear what happened to Joe?”

“Joe?”

“One of Mr. Cartwright’s sons. He was blinded in an explosion ’bout two months back. No one’s seen him since. Some of my friends say that probably means he’s not right in the head now too.”

“Why would Joe not be right in the head?”

“ ‘Cause of the explosion. It musta’ addled his brain or something. They say we never lay eyes on him ‘cause Mr. Cartwright’s hiding him. You know, ‘cause he’s ashamed of him, an’ all.”

“Oh, I see. May I ask you something?”

“Sure. My pa says the only thing free around this place are answers to a customer’s questions.”

Adam chuckled. That sounded like something Tom would say.

“Okay, since answers to questions are free, here’s my question. How well do you know Mr. Cartwright?”

“Pretty good, I guess. He’s president of the school board, an’ when he’s in town, he usually stops by here an’ talks to my pa for a while.”

“So, if you know Mr. Cartwright that well, do you really think he’d be ashamed of one of his sons, or hide him?”

“Well. . .no,” the boy admitted, while securing Adam’s valise to the rear of the saddle with two sturdy leather straps. “I don’t reckon so.”

“Then the next time those friends of yours are trying to start rumors by saying Ben Cartwright’s ashamed of one of his sons, or that Joe isn’t right in the head, you stand up to them and tell them you know those things aren’t true.”

“But I don’t know for certain they’re not true.”

“Then allow me to assure you that they’re not.”

“And just who are you?”

“Someone who knows Ben Cartwright better than anyone in this town.” Adam mounted the horse. He nodded toward his suitcases. “You’ll keep those safe overnight, and bring them to me tomorrow?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Adam reached in a pocket for his money clip and plucked a dollar bill from it. He leaned forward in the saddle, handing it to the boy.

“It’s a long ride out to the Ponderosa. I’ll have another one of those for you when you arrive with my luggage, and maybe we can even sweet talk Hop Sing into giving you a glass of lemonade, along with some cookies.”

The boy’s eyes grew round. 

“I’ve never gotten a tip this big before. Thanks, Mister.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Adam gave the horse’s sides a gentle nudge with his cowboy boots – footwear that he hadn’t completely given up, any more than he’d given up his hat.

As he rode out of the stable, he heard the boy call, “Hey, Mister, I didn’t catch your name!”

Adam pretended he didn’t hear the teen as he traveled down the town’s main street. He kept his head bent, and didn’t make eye contact with anyone on the sidewalks. Because it was Saturday, the town was bustling with activity. That actually made it easier for Adam to go unnoticed. Miners and cowboys filled the streets, and drifted in and out of the saloons. Young children not more than five or six years old ran into the General Store for penny candy, while older boys played marbles in the alleys, and girls skipped rope nearby. Women did their weekly shopping; their husbands around somewhere, transacting business at the bank, or Blakes’s Feed and Seed, or Jake Tanner’s hardware store. 

Adam headed out of town, thankful when he reached the open countryside without anyone recognizing him. He traveled Virginia City Road for a while, then exited at a familiar spot Hoss had always claimed cut miles off of the trip to town, while Joe claimed they saved a half of a mile at best, which wasn’t worth the extra time it took to travel through thick stands of trees and over rough rocky ground. Adam had always been inclined to agree with Joe in regards to this so-called shortcut, but he used it today because he knew he wouldn’t encounter anyone on the remainder of his trip to the ranch.

The scent of Ponderosa Pines, wild flowers, sun-bleached grass, and even cattle dung, caused Adam to bask in nostalgia as he traveled. For the first time in six years, he was the one place he never thought he’d be again – home. Not home as in the luxurious house he’d inherited three years ago when his grandfather died, but home as in the place where he’d grown up, the place where he’d worked for a good part of his adult life, and the place where his father and brothers still lived.

Adam’s thoughts skipped to the mental outline he’d made on the trip of things he wanted to teach Joe. He had Braille books in one of his suitcases, and each week, the Braille newspaper the students published was to be mailed to him. He’d worked with Laddie for several days prior to leaving Boston in order to sharpen his abilities to teach Joe the skills he’d need to be independent. Laddie was correct when she’d said Adam had never taught these skills to the blind. But he’d seen them taught many times since taking the administrator’s position at the institute, and he’d assisted enough students in his classroom to feel confident that he could help Joe.

The man thought of Laura Dayton as he rode, and then thought of the last sea voyage he’d taken. He’d failed at enough things in recent years. Adam was determined that teaching Joe wasn’t going to end up being another failure to add to his list. 

Adam straightened, sitting taller in the saddle, and urged the horse to increase his pace. They were only a few miles from the house now. Although Adam was a little nervous about this surprise visit, he was also eager to be reunited with the father he hadn’t seen since Pa traveled to Boston shortly after Grandfather Stoddard’s death, and especially eager to be reunited with the brothers he hadn’t seen since leaving Virginia City for Massachusetts.

Chapter 3

Joe’s body swayed slightly with the rhythm of the buggy. If he couldn’t spend the day with Hoss, then Candy was next on Joe’s short list of people he felt comfortable being around since losing his sight. The other person was Pa, but lately all Pa wanted to do was try and convince Joe to let a teacher for the blind come and help him. Help him do what, Joe repeatedly asked his father. Just what was some prissy woman from the East going to teach him that would be of any value on a ranch? 

Joe supposed Pa wanted to hire someone from that school where Adam worked, but he’d never asked. Nor did he even know if Pa had written Adam about the accident. He assumed so, but again, he hadn’t asked, because he didn’t care. It was better not to show anything that might be mistaken as interest for fear Pa would latch onto it, and then the next thing you know, some teacher would be here.

Teacher. Just the word made Joe laugh. He was almost thirty years old, and hadn’t attended school since he was sixteen. The last thing he needed was some woman following him around, nagging him to do this or do that. If he wanted to be nagged, he’d get married. Well. . .he would have gotten married. But now that he was blind, no woman would want him, and he couldn’t blame anyone for that. What good would a blind husband be? He couldn’t make a living. He couldn’t do maintenance around the house. He couldn’t even do something as simple as hitch a horse to a buggy and take children to school. He couldn’t do anything but sit in the chair someone led him to, and stay there until someone came and got him. Not exactly the kind of man women would be standing in line to wed. Not even if they assumed Ben Cartwright would financially support his blind son, without asking for anything in return. And if a woman did assume that and the thought appealed to her, then she assumed wrong, because Joe would never allow it. He refused to be a charity case, nor was he going to be known around Virginia City as, “the blind son old Ben Cartwright gives money to.” 

As the buggy made a turn, Joe’s thoughts shifted from teachers and marriage, to trying to decipher which direction they were traveling – north, south, east, or west. If there was one thing Joe didn’t have the words to describe, it was how disorienting the world was now that he couldn’t see. He’d never thought it would be possible for the house and ranch he knew so well, to seem like places he’d never been before, just because he no longer had his eyesight. But that’s exactly how it seemed. He couldn’t count how many times he’d tripped coming down the stairs, or had stumbled over a chair, or other piece of furniture. He couldn’t count how many times Pa or Hoss had rushed to him as though he were a clumsy toddler, and helped him get back on his feet. That he needed their assistance in the first place, made him feel foolish, made him feel embarrassed, and made him feel stupid. And more than anything else, it was times like that when he hated being blind. 

But he wasn’t going to be blind forever. Doc Martin had said his eyesight might come back. Granted, the last time the doctor was out, he did try to tell Joe that since his sight had been gone for two months, it was becoming more and more doubtful that it would return, but Joe didn’t believe him. Pa always said if you had faith, anything was possible. Well, Joe had plenty of faith when it came to wanting to see again. He was just waiting for God to get around to him. 

Joe smelled the sharp scent of the Ponderosa Pines they were traveling amongst. He closed his eyes, picturing the towering trees on either side of the road. How he wished when he opened his eyes, he’d be able see them. Lately, it was getting harder and harder to open his eyes during a moment like this, because if Joe were honest with himself, he’d admit he knew Doc Martin was right. He wasn’t going to get his sight back. But Joe wasn’t ready to admit that, so when doubts crept in, he shoved them aside and reminded himself that, no matter what anyone else said, this nightmare would end soon. Yet deep inside, Joe knew the real reason why he wouldn’t allow a teacher to come to the Ponderosa. If he told his father to send for one, then Joe might as well admit he’d never see again, because sending for a teacher was the same as saying, “I give up.”

Candy’s voice interrupted Joe’s thoughts.

“You okay?”

Joe turned his head to the left. He wondered if he was looking at Candy, or if, like he’d seen other blind people do, he was looking somewhere over Candy’s shoulder, or above his head, or even down at his feet. Now he understood why that happened. Without your sight, you could only estimate the location of a person’s face.

“Yeah.” Joe offered his friend a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t have a headache, do you?”

Joe had been plagued by the worst headaches he’d ever experienced during the first couple of weeks after the explosion. They’d let up recently, though occasionally, he was still bothered by one so intense that all he could do was lie on his bed and be grateful for the cold compresses Pa or Hoss held to his forehead.

“No. I’m okay.”

“You’ve been pretty quiet since we ate lunch.”

Joe shrugged, while turning his head to face forward again. 

“Any reason?”

“No. It’s just. . .it’s different when you’re blind, ya’ know?”

“No, Joe, I don’t know.”

Again, Joe smiled. He appreciated Candy’s honesty. If he’d said the same thing to Hoss, Hoss would have changed the subject, simply because he was so kind-hearted and sensitive that he seemed to think if they didn’t talk about Joe’s inability to see, then Joe wouldn’t remember he was blind. If Joe had said it to Pa. . .well, Pa would have probably used it as an opportunity to say something in return like, “If you’d let me hire a teacher, son, it wouldn’t have to be so different.”

But Candy wasn’t his brother, or his father. Maybe that’s why it was easier to talk to him about the word Hoss could barely stand to say, and that filled Pa’s voice with sadness.

“It’s different, because you have to listen harder when you’re blind,” Joe explained. “It’s almost as if my ears have become my eyes, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.”

“I suppose before I went blind, I could tell you if it was Pa or Hoss walking down the hallway at night, but I never paid much attention. Never had reason to – except in my younger days, when I was sneaking into the house through my bedroom window at two in the morning. At times like that, you can bet I knew if it was Pa coming down the hall.”

Candy laughed. “I’m sure ya’ did.”

“But now I always know which one of them it is. And Pa. . .”

“What about your pa?”

“He paces a lot. He never used to do that, Candy. But now he paces almost every night. I don’t know what time it is, since I can’t see the clock, but it’s a few hours after we go to bed. He’s not sleeping because of me.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“What else would it be?”

“He runs a big operation here. He’s probably got a lotta things on his mind. If I owned a place this size, I’d pace every so often too.”

Joe shook his head. “He’s never done it before. Business is important to Pa, but it’s never been so important to him that he loses sleep over it.”

“Even if he is having trouble sleeping because of you, Joe – because you’ve lost your sight – you can’t feel guilty over it. After all, he is a father. Worrying about their kids is what fathers do.”

“I guess. I just. . .I hate that I’ve given him something to worry about. He’s not getting any younger, ya’ know.”

“Better not let Ben Cartwright hear you say that.”

Joe chuckled. “No, I’d better not.”

Although it was just yesterday that Joe had told his father he didn’t want to be taken for a ride in a buggy like a helpless woman, he appreciated the invitation Candy had extended to him after breakfast. Not even Pa balked at Candy missing a day of work. He’d said he thought it was a good idea for the two men to go off and do whatever it was they wanted to. Usually with Joe and Candy, that meant riding into Virginia City for a few beers, a few hands of poker, and some girl watching. Maybe even some girl “catching,” if they got lucky. But without Joe having to say so, Candy knew Virginia City was off-limits. The buggy never left the Ponderosa, and they hadn’t encountered anyone the entire day, much to Joe’s relief. They’d done some fishing, taken a walk, napped beneath the warm sun after they’d eaten their noon meal, then fished again. They hadn’t caught anything, but that didn’t matter. If you wanted to catch fish, you brought Hoss along. For whatever reason, he was the one who had the ability to fill a bucket with fish thirty minutes after casting his line. Adam had always said if Hoss decided to give up ranching, he could make a fortune crewing a fishing boat. Picturing his huge, land-loving brother who was prone to seasickness, wearing a sailor’s cap and skippering a boat, was almost more than Joe could bear. He’d double over laughing each time Adam said that, while Hoss acted all put-out and demanded, “And just what’s so dadburn funny ‘bout that, little brother?”

It had been a long time now since Joe shared a laugh with both of his brothers, or a day of fishing. Six years long. Since Adam didn’t appear to have a desire to return to the Ponderosa, Joe doubted they’d ever share anything again. 

Pa had visited Adam a few years back, after Adam’s grandfather died, while Joe and Hoss remained at home to run the ranch. Pa hadn’t said much about the visit when he’d returned three months later, and ever since then, whenever Adam wrote, his letters were always addressed to Pa in unfamiliar handwriting, which made Joe wonder if his brother was now so highfalutin that he dictated even his personal correspondence to a secretary. No letters came any longer addressed to the entire family, or addressed just to Joe, or just to Hoss. Joe knew Hoss had continued to write to Adam for a while, but Joe hadn’t bothered with it. If Adam couldn’t take the time to write him, then why should Joe waste time writing letters that were never answered? And besides, he didn’t want an answer if Adam’s secretary was the one sending it to him. 

Nonetheless, this didn’t mean Pa didn’t tell them news of Adam, or read his letters out loud after supper, because most often he did. But whatever happened to cause Abel Stoddard’s death – and Joe was convinced there was more to it than just an old man’s “quiet passing,” as Pa maintained upon his return from Boston – had changed Adam in some way. Or, maybe he’d just gotten busy being the administrator of that blind school, and making a life for himself amongst Boston’s elite citizens. Or so Joe assumed. He could picture Adam at the kind of stuffy parties where you had to wear a suit coat, a waistcoat, woolen trousers, tie, and shoes that pinched your toes, and where all the men adjourned to a drawing room to smoke cigars, drink brandy, and talk politics. Not the kind of party Joe wanted to attend, that was for sure, or Hoss either. 

Therefore, Joe was just as happy to stay on the Ponderosa and let Adam have his life in Boston. If that’s what Adam wanted, then so be it. Sure, it would have been nice to get a letter from him every so often, like Joe did back when Adam was at sea. But Joe knew time and distance changed a relationship whether you wanted it to or not. Didn’t Pa always say he was close to his brother John when they were growing up? But now, Pa hadn’t seen John in almost forty years. And though they wrote to one another, it wasn’t with any great frequency. 

Candy’s voice broke into Joe’s thoughts once again.

“Is there anywhere else you wanna go before I head this rig towards home?”

Joe wanted to tell Candy not to take him home. After all, there was nothing for him to do at the house but sit in the great room, or sit in his bedroom. But where else could they go? It’s not like they could drive around the Ponderosa for days on end without Hoss or Pa coming to look for them. 

“No. No, I guess not. What time is it?”

By the movement of the buggy, Joe could tell Candy was now holding the reins with one hand, and reaching for his pocket watch with the other.

“Quarter to five. Before we left this morning I heard your pa tell Hop Sing to have supper ready at six, so I suppose we’d better mosey on in that direction.”

“I suppose.”

Joe leaned back and held onto the buggy’s frame with his right hand. The depression that had been his constant companion since losing his sight returned in full force now that they were headed home, and he had nothing to look forward to but another long, boring evening. He stared straight ahead seeing only black, and prayed that God would soon change things for the better.

Chapter 4

Watching Joe try and unhitch the horse from the buggy made Candy realize how inaccurate the phrase, “I can do it with my eyes closed,” really was. Candy had no doubt Joe’d been unhitching horses from buggies without help since he was ten years old. Now, he fumbled his way through the chore, as clumsy as a kid doing this job for the first time. 

Candy didn’t say anything as he stepped forward to help. He’d seen Joe lose his temper with his father and Hoss often enough during recent weeks to know the best way to go about giving Joe assistance, was to do so unobtrusively, and without offering instructions. Candy made small talk while they worked, just like he’d do if Joe still had his sight.

“Pretty nice day, huh?”

“Sure was. Thanks for takin’ me.”

“No need to thank me. Got me out of branding.”

Joe’s smile seemed hollow and wooden to Candy. As though he’d give anything to be able to spend a day branding cattle. 

“Yeah, guess it did. I’ll be glad to help you get outta more work if you can convince my pa we need to go fishing several times a week.”

Candy clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You can count on me to give it my best shot.”

Joe snorted. “I’m sure I can.” 

Candy walked beside Joe when they left the carriage house with Joe leading the horse known as Old Pete. Candy kept a hand on Joe’s elbow, guiding him toward the barn. His hand remained where it was as they entered the barn and Joe stalled Pete. Joe did a pretty good job of rubbing the horse down, while Candy got water and grain for the animal.

As he worked, Candy’s eyes kept traveling to an unfamiliar horse in the last stall. He hadn’t pictured the teacher arriving on horseback. A woman from Boston conjured up images of fancy dresses with matching hats, white gloves, maybe a parasol or two, and a buckboard filled with trunks of clothing, as opposed to a woman in riding clothes, who traveled so lightly that whatever she’d brought with her could fit behind a saddle.

Candy shrugged. Either way, it wasn’t his concern. Mr. Cartwright had asked him to keep the news of the teacher’s arrival from Joe, and Candy would continue to honor that request. He didn’t mention the strange horse as he and Joe tended to Pete. He didn’t rush Joe in currying Pete, or even assist with finding the brush when Joe dropped it and had to search Pete’s stall for it on his hands and knees. 

Candy kept glancing toward the house, hoping Mr. Cartwright or Hoss would come out to get Joe. The foreman had witnessed numerous blow-ups since Joe’d lost his sight that he felt he shouldn’t have been privy to. He had no desire to witness the one he knew would lift the rafters right off the house, when Joe found out a teacher was inside waiting for him. While Candy appreciated the fact that Ben Cartwright treated him like a son, and Joe and Hoss treated him like a brother, when you came right down to it, he wasn’t related to the Cartwrights. As an old cowhand once told Candy long before he came to work on the Ponderosa, no matter how close a foreman grew to be to the ranch owner and his family, it was always wise to remember that you were still hired help. A man doesn’t fire his son. His foreman, however, is another story. Not that Candy had any concerns Ben Cartwright would fire him because he’d seen Joe barely in control of himself on a few occasions since the accident, but to Candy’s way of thinking, the Cartwrights deserved their privacy at a time like this. How the family handled Joe’s loss of sight was their business, not Candy’s, and not anyone else’s.

“Hey,” Joe said, “how about goin’ in for supper?” 

Joe used one hand to hang onto the stall while walking out of it. Candy ran over and grabbed a short stool in the man’s path. He scooped it up, putting it down on the other side of the stall without Joe knowing he’d ever been in danger. Candy placed a hand at his friend’s elbow again.

“Sounds good,” Candy agreed, though at the same time he wondered how quickly he could escape from the house. If he were lucky, he’d be able to hightail it out of there before Mr. Cartwright got a chance to introduce Joe to the teacher.

Candy stared at the front door as they crossed the ranch yard. He willed Hoss to open it and step out for his brother. When that didn’t happen, Candy had no choice but to continue to walk with Joe.

Joe fumbled for the knob and opened the door. At first, Candy assumed the teacher was resting in the room Hop Sing had prepared for her. He saw Mr. Cartwright sitting in his chair by the fireplace, looking content and happy in a way Candy hadn’t seen him look since the explosion. Hoss stood by the grandfather clock, as though he was waiting to walk with someone to the sitting area. It wasn’t until another person came into view, that Candy realized the man had been standing by Mr. Cartwright’s desk, his presence blocked by Hoss’s body. For a brief second, Candy saw a wistful look lingering on the man’s face. As though he was getting reacquainted with old and cherished memories. But what memories did this room hold for the dark headed stranger dressed all in black?

As soon as Candy and Joe’s presence registered with everyone, Mr. Cartwright stood. The visitor remained silent as Mr. Cartwright approached wearing a big smile.

“There you two are. Did you have a good day?”

“Sure did, Pa.” 

Mr. Cartwright took Joe’s hat as the blind man attempted to place it on the sideboard. Candy saw the stranger frown at that action, as though he thought Mr. Cartwright shouldn’t have helped Joe with such a simple task. 

“We didn’t catch any fish, though,” Joe said. “Guess we shoulda’ brought Hoss along.”

“Guess you shoulda’,” Hoss agreed. “Next time you two get ta’ spend the day loafin’, make sure ya’ fill me in on it ‘fore you go ridin’ outta here.”

“We sure will, big brother.”

Candy stepped back, letting Mr. Cartwright take Joe’s elbow. He didn’t care that the table was set with a place for him, and that Hop Sing was already bringing out platters of food that made his stomach growl. He turned for the door, wanting to leave before the fireworks started, but he wasn’t quick enough.

“Joseph…son…”

Joe’s brow furrowed. Mr. Cartwright’s eyes darted to Candy, then to Hoss, then to the man who was now standing beside Hoss. Candy could hear the suspicion in Joe’s voice. As though Joe suddenly knew some surprise was about to be sprung on him that he wasn’t going to like.

“What is it, Pa?”

“Joseph, about that teacher–”

Joe pulled away from his father. “I told you I don’t want a teacher.”

“I know what you told me, but–”

“There’s no buts about it. I said I don’t wanna teacher!”

“Well, son, it’s. . .it’s a little too late for that, because–”

“Because you went and sent for one anyway, didn’t you? You sent for one anyway after I told you not to, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Joe, I did.”

“How could you? I. . .I. . .” Joe lurched forward as though trying to flee from the room. As though he feared a woman was present to witness what no man wanted a woman to see. Not even a woman he didn’t know. His vulnerability. His fear. His humiliation. 

“I told you not to, Pa! I told you not to!”

Joe tumbled headlong into the blue chair by the stairs. When Mr. Cartwright ran to him and tried to help him up, Joe pushed his father aside.

“Get away from me! Leave me alone!” Joe lurched for the stairs again, heading for his room using a stumbling half-crawl that made Hoss drop his gaze, and brought tears to Mr. Cartwright’s eyes. 

“I told you I don’t wanna teacher! Why didn’t you listen to me?” Joe’s voice broke with the anger and emotion he could no longer keep in-check. “I-I-I told 
you. . .I told you I don’t wanna teacher, damn it! I don’t want a teacher!”

For the first time, the stranger spoke. His voice was gentle, his tone filled with a quiet kind of understanding.

“Not even if the teacher is your brother, Joe?”

Joe spun around, a hand grappling for the railing behind him. His eyes widened, and Candy swore he saw Joe’s lips silently form the word, “Adam?” 

“Joe?” the man questioned again. “How about it? How about if I’m your teacher?”

Joe made a stifled sound that was a cross between a sob and shocked surprise. For just a moment, Candy thought he was going to witness a happy reunion. But then the moment passed, and the shouting started again.

“No! I told Pa no teacher! Just. . .just go back to Boston, Adam! Now that you’ve satisfied your curiosity, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than baby-sit your blind brother. Like dictate letters to your secretary, or discuss politics with your rich neighbors, or smoke cigars, or drink brandy, or-or-or–” 

“No, Joe, I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Well I do! And none of what I’ve got planned involves you!”

With that, Joe turned and scrambled up the stairs on his hands and knees. Candy could have predicted the sound of a slamming door before he heard it. Hoss let out a heavy sigh of disappointment, while Mr. Cartwright bowed his head in defeat. 

This new Cartwright was the only one who didn’t seem particularly disturbed by Joe’s actions. He walked over to Candy and held out his hand. 

“Hi. You must be Candy.”

Candy tried not to stare as they exchanged an awkward handshake.

“Uh. . .yeah,” Candy acknowledged to the man he’d heard mentioned on numerous occasions, but had never met. “I am.”

“Nice to meet you. In the event you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m Joe’s brother Adam.” Adam’s eyes flicked to the stairway, and a slight smile curved his lips. “He’s obviously missed me a great deal since I’ve been gone.” 

Candy couldn’t help but smile in return. Joe might not want to be told this right now, but it was apparent he and his oldest brother shared a similar sense of humor. Because of that, Candy had a feeling he was going to like Adam Cartwright just fine. He hoped Joe would come to his senses and be willing to learn all that his brother could teach him. If not. . .well, if not, just by looking at the exhausted slump of Mr. Cartwright’s shoulders, Candy knew Joe’s refusal would break his father’s heart.

Chapter 5

Adam couldn’t blame Candy for his hasty retreat after the introductions ended. The foreman said something about eating in the bunkhouse with the men, then took off like a “scalded cat,” as Hoss would say. Adam got the impression Candy usually ate the evening meal with his employers, so he appreciated the man forgoing that tradition tonight in favor of allowing Adam and his family their privacy. Besides, the way things were looking right now, no one had much of an appetite. Not even Hoss. 

Thirty minutes had passed since the door to Joe’s room slammed shut. Without voicing any complaints, Hop Sing carried the food to the stove to keep it warm. That Hop Sing wasn’t cussing them out in Cantonese while he scurried back and forth to the kitchen, spoke volumes for the mood in the house. What had begun as a joyous reunion, turned into angry words filled with fear, embarrassment, and resentment. The first two emotions Adam understood. It was natural for Joe to be frightened of the dark world he now found himself living in, and to be embarrassed when encountering someone he wasn’t comfortable with. By virtue of the years he’d been gone, Adam was forced to acknowledge he fell into that category. But the resentment . . .Adam didn’t even have a secretary, so what Joe meant by that remark was a mystery. 

Little Brother, you might have some gray in your hair now – and God knows that shocked the hell out of me – but despite having hair that’s on its way to being the color of Pa’s, you can still turn this household upside down with that temper of yours.

Ten years ago, those same thoughts would have been shrouded with irritation. Now, Adam found them funny. Joe was Joe. Just like Adam was who he was. The essence of a man’s personality never seemed to change greatly from what it had been in childhood, despite the maturity and wisdom the passage of time gives most everyone. 

Adam wished his father and Hoss could find some of the same amusement – and hope – in Joe’s temper that he did. Pa sat in his chair with a far away look in his eyes, as though he’d sell the Ponderosa for a dollar if only someone would promise to give Joe his sight back in return. And Hoss – that tenderhearted, bear-of-a-brother Adam hadn’t realized how much he’d missed until they’d been reunited a few hours earlier – stood staring forlornly into the fireplace with his hands shoved deep in his front pockets.

Pa and Hoss were so mired in their worries for Joe, that they didn’t notice Adam’s inability to take his gaze from them. The intensity of Adam’s emotions surprised him. Yes, he’d been looking forward to seeing his family, but he hadn’t expected the hugs to last so long, or for it to be so difficult to step from those embraces. And the tears that came to his eyes while wrapped in his father’s arms. . .well, Adam hadn’t anticipated those at all.

Hoss was the first person to notice Adam’s homecoming. As Adam dismounted his horse, Hoss stepped from the barn, not immediately recognizing the “stranger.” It wasn’t until Adam pushed the brim of his hat up and Hoss clearly saw his face, that recognition occurred. And even then, it took Hoss a few seconds to act on that recognition. He stared at Adam as though a ghost had ridden onto the Ponderosa, then he grinned and let out a whoop of joy while throwing his hat in the air.

“Adam! Adam, you’re home!”

Before Adam could react, he was picked up in massive arms and swung around three times. When he was finally on the ground again, he exchanged a long and powerful hug with his brother. After the hug ended, they stood back and absorbed the sight of each other, taking note of six years worth of changes. In Hoss’s case, his hairline had receded more, and he was thinner on top, too, but wider around the middle.

In Adam’s case, Hoss noticed the obvious difference right away. But when he questioned, “Adam?” with confusion, Adam shook his head. 

“We’ll talk about it after I get settled – and in private, where Joe can’t overhear us.”

The confusion didn’t leave Hoss’s face, but he nodded his understanding that there were things Adam didn’t want Joe to know about just yet.

Before the brothers were able to say anything else, the front door opened. Hoss shoved Adam behind him as Pa walked out.

“Hoss! What’s all the ruckus about?”

Adam could hear the grin in Hoss’s voice. 

“Nothin’, Pa! The teacher just got here, that’s all.”

“Teacher?” Pa’s voice drew closer. “Where?”

Adam imagined the puzzlement on his father’s face, when the only thing Pa saw was a horse with a small valise secured to the saddle. It wasn’t the way Pa was expecting the teacher to travel the final leg of the journey. To prevent anyone from the Ponderosa being sent to meet his stage, Adam had told his father via a telegram that the teacher would hire a buggy and driver at Jensen’s Livery upon arrival.

“Right here, Pa,” Hoss had said. “Behind me.”

“Well then, bring her up to the house, for pity sake. We don’t want Miss Brockington standing under the hot sun.”

“No, I don’t reckon we do. Only the “miss” ain’t a miss, after all. She’s a mister.”

“A what?”

“She’s a mister, Pa.”

“Hoss, what in tarnation are you talking about? Now quit taking over your brother Joseph’s role as the family practical joker, and show Miss Brockington some proper hospitality.”

“It’s like I already told ya’, Pa, she’s not a miss, she’s a. . .” Hoss stepped to the side, as he finished his sentence with, “mister.”

Pa’s reaction to seeing Adam was almost identical to Hoss’s. Several seconds passed before it registered with him that his oldest son was standing just a few feet away. His face, however, was minus any confusion, because unlike Hoss and Joe, Pa knew how Adam had changed since he’d left home.

“Adam?” Pa whispered. “Son?”

“Yeah, Pa.” Adam smiled as he walked into his father’s arms. “It’s me.”

Adam was enveloped in a hug that seemed to go on forever, and that he had no desire to break. A hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him even closer. Adam returned the hug with just as much strength and emotion, and didn’t try to hide the tears trickling down his face.

When Pa finally broke their embrace, he took two steps back, but kept his hands on Adam’s shoulders. He studied his oldest child from head to toe. 

“You look well, son.”

Adam smiled and nodded his assurance. He knew he looked a far cry better than the last time his father had seen him – both physically and emotionally healthier than he’d been three years ago.

“I’m fine, Pa.” Adam patted his father’s right arm. “I’m just fine.”

Pa let his hands drop. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Adam, but what’re you doing here? We were expecting Miss Brockington.”

Adam chuckled. “Why?”

“Why? Well. . .well. . .well, because I just assumed. . .”

“Then you assumed wrong. I never said I was sending Laddie.”

“No, I guess you didn’t,” Pa admitted. “But you never said you were coming, either.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Pa laughed. “You certainly did that and then some.” Pa placed an arm across Adam’s shoulders. “Come on in the house. We’ll get you a cold drink and a comfortable place to sit.” 

“I’ll put this horse away and be right in ta’ join you fellas.” 

“Thanks, brother.”

“ ‘Welcome. Did ya’ rent ‘im from Tom?”

“I did.”

“Do I need to take him back for ya’?”

“No. One of Tom’s boys is coming out with my luggage tomorrow. He’ll get the horse then.”

“Sounds like a dandy idea.”

“For the promise of a dollar tip, the boy thought so, too.”

“I reckon he did.” Hoss led the horse toward the barn. “Don’t you two start talkin’ without me.”

“We won’t,” Pa promised.

Adam walked beside his father to the house. He’d just put his hat on the sideboard when he heard Hop Sing coming from the kitchen.

“What all noise about? Is Missy Teacher here? You say Hop Sing serve snacks when Missy Teacher come, but no one tell Hop Sing Missy Teacher get here until Mr. Hoss start yelling like sky falling. . .”

Hop Sing’s tirade stopped as he walked around the corner and caught sight of the “teacher.” Like Pa and Hoss had been, the housekeeper was momentarily stunned. When Hop Sing finally spoke again, Adam grinned at the high-spirited chatter he could have predicted was coming next. 

“Mr. Adam! Mr. Adam, you go ‘way long time! Make father and brothers sad.”

“I don’t know how sad I made anyone, Hop Sing, but it sure feels good to be home.”

“Good have you home.” 

Hop Sing eyes lingered on Adam a moment. He didn’t remark on any changes he observed, but unless he’d lost his sight like Joe, he’d surely noticed at least one. However, any questions Hop Sing had he kept to himself as he turned to scold Pa.

“You say Missy Teacher come and Hop Sing should get room ready for her! Now no Missy Teacher come. Mr. Adam come, but Mr. Adam’s room not ready. And I make special supper for Missy Teacher, just like you say to. If you say Mr. Adam coming, Hop Sing make Mr. Adam’s favorite foods, but too late now ‘cause supper started.”

Adam laughed at the little man’s temper. As he’d said, it sure felt good to be home.

“Don’t worry about my room, Hop Sing. I’m sure it’s fine. That is, unless one of my brothers has taken it over. If Hoss commandeered it, then the mattress will be sunk in the middle and make my back hurt. If Joe’s claimed it, then the smell of cologne and hair tonic will be so strong that I’ll have to leave the window open for a week.”

“No, Mr. Hoss not sleep in your room, and Little Joe not sleep there either. Mr. Adam’s room just like was when he left. Hop Sing think Mr. Hoss and Little Joe leave it ‘cause they hope Mr. Adam come home someday and want room back.”

“I think so too, Hop Sing,” Pa agreed with a smile. “Now can you bring some lemonade and cookies for us?”

Hop Sing shook a finger under Pa’s nose.

“Not for you, because I work hard to get room ready for Missy Teacher. But for Mr. Adam, yes, I bring snacks.”

After Hop Sing left, Adam teased, “I’ll share some with you, Pa.”

“Thank you. As you should. After all, it’s your fault I had Hop Sing get “Missy Teacher’s” room ready.”

Adam chuckled, then followed his father to the sitting area. Hoss entered the house with Adam’s valise just as Hop Sing brought a tray of lemonade and cookies from the kitchen. Adam enjoyed a lazy afternoon visit with his father and brother. Shortly before Pa expected Candy to return with Joe, Adam excused himself and carried his valise to his room.

As Hop Sing said, the room hadn’t been changed in the years since Adam’s departure. Adam opened the window to allow the summer breeze in, and to air out the stuffiness that spoke of a space long unoccupied. It took him no more than a minute to unpack. He opened his bureau drawers one by one, seeing the clothes he’d left behind. He changed out of his traveling suit then – the gray dress trousers, gray suit coat, white shirt, and black string tie he’d worn. He found a pair of familiar black pants and a black shirt to put on in their place. He was surprised the pants still fit as comfortably as they did. Adam would have sworn he’d put on a few pounds since taking the job at the institute. 

When Adam returned to the main floor, he took a slow tour of the room, savoring everything from pictures, to books, to furniture, to the Indian blanket that still hung on the banister. It was while he stood in front of Pa’s desk running two fingers over the smooth wood, that Candy and Joe entered the house. 

Adam had wanted his reunion with Joe to be just as exuberant and heartfelt as his reunion with Pa and Hoss. Nonetheless, he wasn’t surprised when it didn’t turn out that way. First of all, Joe had told their father numerous times not to send for a teacher. And second of all, even when Joe discovered the teacher was his brother, Adam understood that, given the circumstances, it was difficult for Joe to be welcoming of unexpected visitors. 

Adam stood up from the settee now, ready to make another attempt at a reunion with his youngest brother. He broke the heavy silence that had prevailed in the room since Joe tumbled up the stairs. 

“I’ll go talk to Joe. See if he’ll come down and eat supper.”

Hoss turned to look at Adam as Pa asked, “You think that’s a good idea?”

“I do,” Adam nodded. “He can’t sit in his room and brood forever.”

“Adam. . .” Pa’s voice warned that he wasn’t up to hearing the kind of heated exchange his oldest and youngest had engaged in at times during years past.

“Pa, trust me. I know how to handle Joe.”

“I do trust you. It’s just that. . .”

“That what, Pa?”

“You’ve been gone a long time. You don’t. . .”

“I don’t have the right to push my way back into Joe’s life? Is that what you were going to say?”

Pa gave a reluctant, “Yes.”

“I’m not going to push. I’m going to teach. I came here to teach Joe, Pa, not to fight with him. Believe me, I saw the gray in his hair.” Adam smiled. “While I’ll always think of Joe as my kid brother, I realize it’s been a lot of years since he was a kid, and that I’ve got to treat him with the same respect I’d want if our positions were reversed. Besides,” the man added as he paused with a foot on the first step, “I also noticed the muscles that little scamp has packed onto his chest and shoulders since I left. If I’m not careful, he’ll knock me right through a wall.”

“He will,” Hoss agreed. “Heck, Adam, even when Joe was a lot scrawnier, that never kept him from takin’ a swing at ya’ if ya’ got him riled.”

“No, it didn’t,” Adam said to Hoss, but then quickly assured his father, “but don’t worry, no fist fights. I’m too old to be on the receiving end of Joe’s temper.”

“I would hope you’re both too old for that kind of malarkey.”

Adam laughed. “Oh, come on, Pa. Joe and I tearing up this room every so often as we tossed each other over furniture was kind of fun.”

“Maybe fun for you and Joseph, but not fun for Hoss and me when we had to try and pull you two apart.”

“Well, no need to worry about pulling us apart this time around, I promise. I’m just going to talk to Joe. Just going to try and convince him that I can help him – teach him – if he’ll only let me.”

Pa’s, “I hope Joe agrees to that,” sounded flat, and without any real conviction. The look on Hoss’s face mirrored Pa’s certainty that Adam would fail.

But Adam had ridden onto the Ponderosa determined not to fail, and no amount of stubbornness on Joe’s part was going to change that.

Chapter 6

Joe sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the knock on his door. The “rap rap rap” sounded again with more persistence. 

“Go away, Adam.”

“Joe–”

“I said go away.”

Despite the directive, the door opened. Joe scowled.

“Somethin’ wrong with your hearing?”

“No, I hear just fine. As do you, evidently, since you could tell those were my footsteps in the hall, and not Pa’s or Hoss’s.”

“Did you come up here just to prove how smart you are, or do you get enjoyment outta barging into rooms you’ve been told not to enter?”

“I didn’t come up here to prove anything, Joe, and as for barging in. . .I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“About what?”

“Well, first of all, how about just to say hello, and that I’m glad to see you.”

“Fine. Now that you’ve gotten that outta the way, you can leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah. Go to your own room. Or go back downstairs. Or go back to Boston, for all I care.”

“What if I’m not ready to go back to Boston?”

“Then that’s your choice. Just don’t bother me while you’re here.”

Silence cloaked the room. Joe could picture Adam studying him while considering what he’d say next.

“Joe, there’re things I can show you. . .teach you, if you’ll only let me.”

“Oh, so now Adam Cartwright is the savior of the blind, is that it?”

“Adam Cartwright isn’t anyone’s savior, believe me. But he is your brother, and he’d like to help you.”

“No.”

“I came a long way and–” 

“I didn’t ask you to. Besides, you weren’t interested in coming home before.”

“Before? Before what?”

“Before I went on display like some kind of side-show freak.”

“That’s not true.”

“What? That you weren’t interested in coming home, or that I’m a freak?”

“It’s not that I wasn’t interested, it’s just that it wasn’t. . .it wasn’t possible. And I don’t think you’re a freak.”

“Well I do, and that’s all that matters. 

Again, silence prevailed between the brothers. Men’s laughter drifted in through the open window, followed by the clang of a horseshoe striking a metal stake. It was a game meant to pass time, and in Joe’s opinion, not all that exciting. But it was strange what simple things you longed to be able to do when you could no longer see.

“I can teach you.”

Joe turned his face from the window.

“What?”

“Horseshoes. I can teach you how to play horseshoes.”

Joe didn’t know which made him more furious – Adam’s insistence that he could teach him things, or that he’d so easily discerned what Joe was thinking. 

“Now that’ll sure make Pa proud.”

“Joe. . .”

“Hey, Adam, then you really could get me hired by a freak show. You could bill me as the blind, horseshoe-playing man.”

“Joe–”

“If nothing else, it’ll get me outta this room and give me a way to earn a living so I don’t have to be Pa’s charity case.”

“You’re not Pa’s charity case, you’re his son.”

“That’s not what people will say.”

“What people?”

“No one in particular. Just people.”

“I’ve never known you to worry about what people say.”

“You’ve been gone a long time. Maybe I do now.”

Adam chuckled. “Even thrusting your chin out at me like that in defiance, won’t make me believe Joe Cartwright has changed so much that he loses sleep over the opinions of others.”

“Look, Adam, what you believe or don’t believe, doesn’t matter to me.”

“If you really are concerned about people thinking you’re Pa’s charity case, let me teach–”

“No! How many ways do I have to say it? No, Adam! Now get outta here! Go!”

A heavy sigh was accompanied by footsteps heading toward the door. The footsteps paused. Even without the ability to see his brother, Joe knew Adam had turned to look at him.

“Hop Sing’s got supper waiting.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“For Pa’s sake, could you at least try and eat?”

“Not tonight. I just wanna be left alone.”

Adam was quiet a few seconds, then made a soft confession.

“I’m no stranger to what you’re feeling, Joe.”

“No?” Joe didn’t attempt to keep the bitterness from his tone. “Does that mean you’re blind too?”

There was a long hesitation, as though Adam wanted to say far more than what he finally settled on.

“No. . . .No, I’m not.”

“Then you are a stranger to what I’m feeling. You have no idea what I’m feeling, and don’t you dare come in this room and try and tell me otherwise.”

Joe expected to be inundated with Adam Cartwright words-of-wisdom, and was therefore glad when he received none. Adam’s footsteps moved toward the doorway again. He paused just long enough to say, “Oh, and by the way. I don’t have a secretary.” 

Joe’s brow furrowed with puzzlement, but before he could reply, the door closed and Adam was gone.

Long after Adam left, Joe sat wondering why the solitude he claimed to crave brought him no comfort, and how a man could feel so alone when his family was gathered around the dining room table just one floor below.

Chapter 7

Adam suspected Joe’s late arrival at the breakfast table on Sunday morning had nothing to do with oversleeping, and everything to do with Joe assuming his family had left for church. But since Joe couldn’t see a clock, his timing was off. If he’d waited another fifteen minutes, he might have found himself alone in the house, save for Hop Sing. Instead, Hoss was outside getting the buggy ready, while Pa and Adam sat at the table sipping coffee.

Joe groped his way down the stairs. His uncoordinated movements were painful for Adam to watch. In less than ten minutes, Adam could show his little brother a safe and confident way to traverse the stairs, if only Joe would let him.

Pa exchanged glances with Adam. There’d been a lull in their conversation, which was likely why Joe didn’t realize they were still in the house. Pa waited until Joe was on the landing, to say, “Good morning, Joseph.”

“Oh. . .uh. . .morning, Pa.”

“Morning, Joe.”

Adam received nothing more than a curt, “Adam,” in response to his greeting.

As Pa stood to assist Joe, Adam shook his head. Pa cocked a questioning eyebrow. Adam nodded toward his father’s chair, indicating that he’d like the man to sit back down. Pa reluctantly did so. Adam then turned his attention to Joe, who was headed for the blue chair. Joe waved his arms in front of him in what Adam knew was an ineffective way for a blind man to navigate a room. He was proven correct, when Joe collided with the chair. True to Joe’s stubborn nature, he wouldn’t ask for help. He righted himself, and then kept walking.

“Joe, your shins are about to make contact with the coffee table.”

Regardless of how Joe felt about Adam’s presence, he stopped.

“Take three steps backwards, and then seven steps to your left.”

Joe hesitated.

“If you take three steps back, and seven steps left, you’ll be in the open space behind the settee.” 

The explanation seemed to help Joe reach the decision to do as Adam instructed. 

Adam realized the added explanation had probably made his directive sound less like an order. He filed that in the back of his mind for future reference. Joe never had taken well to being bossed around – especially when the person doing the bossing was his oldest brother.

“Now put your right hand out at waist level.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, you’ll feel the edge of the table behind the settee.”

Again, Joe hesitated, as though the last thing he wanted to do was take orders from Adam. But Joe also must have recognized that Adam’s verbal guidance was allowing him the independence he so badly wanted.

“Run the back of your hand across the table as you walk forward. No, not the front of your hand, the back. It’s safer that way.”

Joe couldn’t keep his curiosity in-check. “How come?”

“Because if you encounter a nail, or other sharp object, you’re not as likely to pierce your skin as you are if you use your palm.”

“Oh. . .okay.”

“When you come to the end of the table, keep your hand at waist level, palm inward just like you have it now. You’ll take approximately eight steps, and then feel the corner of the dining room table.”

Once Joe reached the table, he was able to get to his chair and sit down without further instructions. If this small feat made him happy, he worked hard at not revealing that to Adam.

Adam frowned as his father filled a plate for Joe. This was another habit he would have to break Pa of.

Pa placed the plate in front of Joe. 

“Scrambled eggs at twelve o’clock, son. Bacon at nine, and fried potatoes at three.”

“Thanks, Pa.”

Adam watched his father pour coffee for Joe next; another task Joe could be doing for himself.

“Coffee’s at the top of your plate.”

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. Are you coming to church with us this morning?”

“Uh. . .no. No, Pa, I’m not.”

Based on things Adam was told by Pa and Hoss the previous afternoon, he knew Joe hadn’t attended church, or been in Virginia City at all, since the explosion. 

“Sally Morris will ask after you.”

Joe shrugged.

“Is there a message you’d like me to give her?”

“No. No message.”

“Joe–”

“There’s no message, Pa.”

Pa’s eyes remained on Joe. Adam wished his brother could see the pain those eyes held, and the way exhaustion and worry were taking their toll on Pa.

Pa finished his coffee, set the cup on its saucer, and looked at Adam.

“Ready to go?”

“You know, Pa, I’m pretty tired from my trip. I think I’ll stay here this morning.”

Adam almost laughed out loud at the scowl on Joe’s face. 

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I never said you did. As a matter of fact, I didn’t say anything about you.”

Joe at least had the good grace to blush a little.

Pa didn’t intercede on behalf of either of his sons. He must have decided they could fight it out on their own; or, he surmised what Adam hoped to accomplish if he were able to spend some time alone with Joe. 

“I’ll see you boys later, then.” Pa stood and walked from the dining area. “I’d better get out to the buggy, or Hoss’ll wonder what’s happened to me.”

“Bye, Pa,” Adam said.

Joe’s, “Bye,” was subdued, and devoid of the cheerfulness his older brother’s had contained. As though the prospect of being alone with Adam was worse than the thought of being seen in public. For a few moments, Adam wondered if Joe would change his mind about going to church. 

Pa must have wondered the same thing, because he stood behind the settee, his gaze lingering on his youngest son. When Joe said nothing more, Pa placed his hat on his head, turned, and headed out the front door.

Joe ate with the kind of speed that said he was in a rush to escape his older brother’s presence. Adam cast about for something to say. If he didn’t make conversation, Joe would find an excuse to return to his room as soon as he finished his breakfast.

“It sure is nice to be home.”

Joe didn’t answer, but by the way his eyes were drawn to the direction Adam’s voice was coming from, Adam knew he had his brother’s attention.

“All three of you look good.”

“Wish I could return the compliment, but as you’ve already figured out, I’m not seeing much of anything these days.”

Six years ago, Adam wouldn’t have had the fortitude to withstand Joe’s bitterness, but life had taught him a few hard lessons since he’d been gone, and two of the things he’d learned from those lessons was patience and empathy. He plowed forward, pretending he hadn’t heard Joe.

“I have to confess I was a little surprised by the gray in your hair, and the way you’ve filled out in the shoulders and chest. A few years on down the road, and you’ll be the one amongst us who looks the most like Pa.”

Being compared to Pa made Joe smile a little. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Everyone’s always said I look like my mother.”

“You did when you were younger, and you still do to some extent. But I’m seeing a good deal of Pa in you, too.” Adam smiled. “Maybe it’s just because I’ve been gone awhile.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you need glasses.”

Despite the lack of humor in Joe’s tone, Adam chuckled. “Maybe I do.” 

Adam moved the conversation along, talking about the changes he’d observed in Virginia City, and then on the Ponderosa during his ride to the ranch house the previous day. Joe’s answers were short when he answered at all, but at least he seemed to have forgotten he was in a hurry to leave the table. 

Casually, Adam stated, “I’ll be here for a few days yet. Maybe the Cartwright brothers can get some fishing in before I go back to Boston. What do you think?”

“Uh. . .sure. Yeah. I suppose we could. When’re you leaving?”

“Probably at the end of the week. I arranged to be gone from the institute for at least a month, but if you don’t have a need for me. . .”

“I don’t have a need for you. Doc Martin says I’m gonna get my eyesight back.”

“Oh. . .I didn’t realize that. Pa didn’t mention it.”

“Well, he should have. Might have saved you a trip.”

“Yes, it might have. But overall, it doesn’t matter. I was long overdue for a visit home, wouldn’t you say?”

Joe shrugged, but Adam could detect the hurt in his response. “Your life is in Boston now.”

“A part of my life is there, yes. But a part of it’s still here on the Ponderosa too, Joe. The part that’ll always be connected to you, and Pa, and Hoss.”

The conversation paused, as though Joe was absorbing Adam’s words and deciding how he wanted to respond to them. 

“Pa’s missed you.”

“I’ve missed him, too. And Hoss and you, as well.”

“If you’ve missed all of us, how come you never came home for a visit?”

“Boston isn’t exactly just a town or two away, you know.”

“I might be blind, but I’m not stupid. I know how far Boston is.”

“Then you know it’s not a trip a person makes on the spur of the moment. Besides, you never came to visit me.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

Touché, little brother. Touché.

“Then I’ve been negligent in telling you that you’re welcome any time. Would you like to come stay with me for awhile?”

“No.” 

“Oh. . .well, obviously my invitation is a little late, but that doesn’t make it any less sincere. I really would like you to come for a visit.” 

“I know. What I meant was, not right now. Someday, when I have my sight back, then. . .yeah, maybe. I might like to see Boston. Hoss too.”

Adam smiled while keeping the disappointment out of his voice. He’d thought if he could get Joe away from the Ponderosa, then Joe might be more receptive to learning. 

“Both you and Hoss are always welcome. Just let me know you’re coming, and I’ll have Mrs. O’Connell get the guestrooms ready.”

“Mrs. O’Connell?”

“My housekeeper. A female, Irish version of Hop Sing.”

That got a chuckle out of Joe.

Taking advantage of his brother’s good humor, Adam held out his coffee cup.

“Joe, the coffee pot’s to your left at ten o’clock. Would you mind pouring me a cup?”

Before Joe had the chance to say no, Adam placed his cup in Joe’s right hand.

“I. . .you’d better do it. I might spill it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right, you might. . .unless. . .” 

“Unless what?”

“I can show you a way to do it if you want me to.”

“What way?”

Adam leaned across the table and gently manipulated the fingers of Joe’s right hand around the delicate china cup.

“Here. Like this. Place your index finger just inside the rim of the cup. You’ll know when to stop pouring.”

“Yeah,” Joe smiled, “guess I will.”

“I hope your hands are clean.”

Joe smirked at his brother. “That’s the chance you took when you asked me to pour.”

“A request I’m regretting now that I’ve given it a second thought.”

Joe laughed. Adam sat back in his chair, enjoying the sound. That was one thing that hadn’t changed in the years since he’d left. Joe still possessed that distinctive cackle Adam could have picked out of any crowd, no matter how dense.

Adam reached out to take the cup Joe held toward him. 

“Now I can show you another method with your own cup.”

“One that doesn’t involve my finger?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I don’t mind getting your coffee dirty, but I don’t wanna drink my own that way.”

“Very funny.” Adam wished Pa were present to witness this exchange. It would do him a world of good to hear Joe laughing and joking. “Now this might be somewhat difficult for you, because you’ll have to keep your mouth shut for a few seconds and listen.”

“Now who’s being funny?”

“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, little brother,” Adam teased. “Listen as you pour this time. The sound will be fairly noticeable when you first begin, but as the cup gets fuller, the sound will diminish. When the cup is about three quarters of the way full, the sound will stop altogether.”

Joe’s eyebrows knit together with concentration as he poured. The delight on his face was impossible to miss.

“Hey, it really works.”

“You thought I was lying to you?”

“Well. . .no, but I figured you’d think it was justified payback for past deeds on my part if the coffee ran over the cup.”

“It would be justified payback, but when payback comes, it won’t be at the risk of your hand getting burnt.”

“So payback is coming, huh?” Joe asked with a twinkle in his eyes as he set the coffee pot on the table.

“Hard to say. Don’t know if I’ll be here long enough to pull anything off, but I wouldn’t let my guard down if I were you.”

“Um. . .about that. . .”

“Oh no. Don’t try and tell me you don’t deserve whatever prank I dream up. Need I remind you about the Abigail Jones fiasco, and the time you–”

“No,” Joe smiled slightly, “you don’t need to remind me. But what I meant 
was. . .you. . .uh. . .you said something earlier about being able to stay a month.”

“Yes. Even longer if necessary.”

“I know I’ll have my sight back by then, but Pa. . .Pa would probably like it if you stayed longer than just ‘til the end of this week. I mean, it’s not fair of me to chase you off. For Pa’s sake and all.”

“That’s true, I suppose.”

“And if you would decide to stay awhile, I guess. . .well, if you still wanna teach me some things, I’d probably find them helpful until I can see again.”

“Hmmm. . . .” Adam nodded. “You make a good point I can’t argue.”

“So. . .uh. . .would you?”

“Would I what?”

Joe worried his lower lip a moment.

Come on, Joe. Ask me. Set your pride aside and ask me.

“Would you stay and. . .and in-between visiting with Pa and Hoss, show me a few things maybe?”

“There’s no maybe about it. Of course I’ll stay. And yes, in-between visiting with Pa and Hoss, I can probably find time to show you some things – if you’re willing to let me be your teacher, that is.”

“I’m willing.” Joe gave a teasing smile. “As long as I don’t have to call you Mr. Cartwright , Sir, or Headmaster.”

Adam laughed. “And here I was thinking Headmaster Cartwright as spoken by my youngest brother had a nice ring to it, but if you insist. . .all right. I guess for you, Adam will do just fine.”

Joe’s smile faded a bit. Adam knew this hadn’t been an easy decision for him. By saying he was willing to be taught, Joe was taking the first small step toward acknowledging he’d never see again, even though he’d likely deny it if asked.

“Thanks, Adam.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And about yesterday. . .”

“What about yesterday?”

Apologies had never been easy for Joe to extend to his oldest brother, any more than the reverse was true. As Pa often said, brotherly love existed between Adam and Joe, but sometimes their relationship was “prickly.” Or better put by Hoss, “Them two’s got more thorns between ‘em than a porcupine’s got quills.”

But what Adam received from his brother that morning, meant far more than any apology could have.

“I. . .I should have told you that I’m glad you’re home.”

“You should only tell me that if you mean it.”

“I do. I do mean it. I’m glad you came home, Adam.”

“And I’m glad to be home.”

“Only next time. . .”

“Next time what?”

“Give a guy a little warning before you just show up outta the blue. My shins can’t take any more of those stupid stairs.”

Adam laughed again, then laughed harder when Hop Sing came out of the kitchen shouting, “Mr. Adam an’ Little Joe, yack yack yack like old ladies at hen party! Go outside an’ yack yack yack. Hop Sing need clear table before Mr. Hoss come home church an’ want know where lunch is!”

Adam walked around the table and lifted his brother by one arm. 

“Come on, Joe. I think that’s our signal to make ourselves scarce.”

“Sure sounds like it to me.”

~ ~ ~

The smell of roast beef and warm apple pie was wafting out of the house when Pa and Hoss arrived home three hours later. As the buggy rounded the corner of the barn, Adam saw the astonishment on their faces at the sight of Joe playing horseshoes with Candy. It wasn’t nearly the miracle Pa and Hoss thought – just a rope Joe could use as a guide as he walked back and forth between the two stakes, along with a liberal dose of verbal confidence offered by his oldest brother. But as Adam told them after lunch had been eaten, and Joe and Candy returned outside to their game, it was a start. 

“A start I’m grateful for,” Pa said in a tone thick with emotion. “Thank you, Adam. Thank you.”

Adam stood, clapping his father on the back as he rounded the table. 

“Come on, Pa. I think it’s time for a family horseshoe challenge. You and me, against Hoss and Joe.”

Hoss followed his father and brother to the door. “Now there’s a challenge I ain’t refusin’.” 

Candy and Joe finished their game, then Candy said he needed to go check on some livestock. Whether that was true or not, Adam didn’t know. Once again, he was grateful for the foreman’s perceptiveness, and his willingness to give the Cartwrights time alone together.

The only thing that marred the afternoon was the arrival of the Jensen boy with Adam’s luggage. Joe fled to the house with a stumbling gait, when he heard a buckboard coming around the barn. Pa called after him, but Adam shook his head while placing his hand on Pa’s shoulder.

“Let him be, Pa. Remember what I said. Today was just a start. We have a lot of days ahead of us yet. Give him time. Little by little, he’ll get there on his own.”

Pa looked skeptical. “If you say so.”

“I do. Now, while I help Hoss with my luggage, how about if you go in the house and break the news to Hop Sing that I promised my delivery boy a glass of lemonade and some cookies.”

“Leaving your father with the dirty work, is that it?”

“Yep, that’s it,” Adam agreed with a grin. 

Adam followed Hoss into the house with a suitcase in hand. Last night, he’d thought this visit would be so short that there’d be no need to unpack. Now, he looked forward to putting his clothes away, getting his teaching materials out, and settling in for an extended stay. The only drawback to that stay – he already missed Laddie terribly. But for whatever period of time Joe needed him, letters back and forth between the Ponderosa and Boston would have to soothe the longings of the heart.

Chapter 8

In the weeks following Adam’s arrival, Joe barely had a moment to relax between eight in the morning and four in the afternoon – the hours Adam declared “school” was in session Monday through Friday, save for a one-hour lunch break at noon. Joe hadn’t studied with this intensity during all of the years he’d attended Virginia City’s schoolhouse. When he’d said as much to Adam, Adam droned, “That doesn’t surprise me,” in a tone that held just the right amount of brotherly teasing. 

Learning to read and write Braille took up most of Joe’s time and concentration. He often asked Adam to continue working with him after supper. In a reversal of roles, it was Adam who put a halt to the learning whenever he recognized Joe needed to set the books aside and have some fun. When Saturdays arrived, it was also Adam who rounded up Hoss and Joe for fishing excursions, or journeys over Ponderosa land on horseback. Sometimes Pa came along, while other times he said he had things to do and remained at the house. Pa wasn’t fooling his sons. They knew this was his way of giving them time together as brothers, after too many years apart.

Braille opened the world to Joe in a way he never imagined it could. Adam had books written in Braille, a deck of Braille cards, and a set of Braille dominos and Braille checkers. The cards, dominos, and checkers were also marked in the traditional manner for sighted people, which enabled Hoss and Joe to resume playing the after-supper games they’d indulged in since boyhood.

Other lessons for Joe included learning to saddle Cochise, fill his own plate, shave his face without assistance, make his bed, and fold and put away his clothes. With Adam’s help, Joe also learned to sort his clothing by color and type, so that he no longer worried about making a fool of himself by putting on a pair of trousers meant for church, with a shirt meant for ranch work. He also learned to safely navigate both floors of the house, as well as the stairway. Once Joe accomplished those feats, he learned to traverse the wide-open space of the ranch yard, and then the interior of the out buildings. Joe couldn’t count the number of times he’d heard Adam command, “Head up, Joe. Up, just as though you’re looking someone in the eye. Keep your right arm bent and in front of your face. If you bump into a wall, it’ll hurt a lot less if your arm takes the brunt of it, as opposed to your nose. Palm inward on that left hand. Inward. Remember, it’s the back of that hand you run over walls and furniture, not the front.”

Exactly when these new skills became second nature and he no longer needed Adam’s reminders, Joe wasn’t sure. All he knew was suddenly it seemed like he’d been blind for years. That thought scared him, because it forced him to accept that more time was passing in which his eyesight showed no sign of returning. It forced Joe to acknowledge that, in all likelihood, this is what the future held for him. Braille books, Braille checkers, Braille dominos, and everything surrounded by darkness. Everything he’d known for as long as he could remember – his bedroom, the comforting glow of the fireplace in the great room on a cold winter’s evening, the meadows, streams, lakes, grazing lands, and timberlands of the Ponderosa, and his father’s face – would be only memories in his mind’s eye. Memories that Joe feared would diminish as the years went on, until he couldn’t recall what Pa looked like at all, or how Hoss cocked his head, scrunched up his nose, and pursed his mouth when trying to figure out if Joe was pulling his leg about something, or telling him the truth.

Despite Adam’s lessons and the hope they brought Joe that he could eventually live a semi-independent life, depression remained a companion hidden in the shadows, and creeping over him whenever he dwelled on all that he might never see or do again. Before the explosion, Joe thought his entire future was ahead of him. A future that included a wife and children. A future that included running the Ponderosa with Hoss, long after Pa had lived to be a ripe old age, and then was no longer with them. Now, Joe set all those dreams aside permanently. There would be no wife, no children, and no ability on his part to be a business partner in much of anything, let alone this ranch that encompassed one thousand square-miles. 

During these bouts of depression, Joe was an “ornery little cuss,” as Hoss mumbled on a few occasions. It was then that Joe and Adam would invariably have words over something Adam wanted Joe to do, that Joe wanted no part of. And the thing Adam wanted Joe to do the most lately, that Joe in turn resisted the strongest, was taking a trip into Virginia City. Adam brought it up again during that afternoon’s Braille lesson.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Joe asked, as he sat at the dining room table with his brother. “I don’t wanna be stared at.”

“You can’t see. Therefore, you won’t know if anyone’s staring at you.”

Joe ignored Adam’s attempt at humor. 

“I’ll know.”

“How?”

“Because I will. I don’t have to be able to see in order to sense what’s going on around me. You’re the one who keeps telling me that, in case you need to be reminded.”

“I don’t need to be reminded. But you can’t hide out here on the Ponderosa forever.”

“I’m not hiding!”

“Looks to me like you are.”

“Well I didn’t ask what it looked like to you.”

“I realize that, but a trip to town is part of your schooling. You need to learn to navigate in all types of situations, Joe, and with all types of distractions. That includes traveling a crowded sidewalk, making your way through a store on a busy afternoon, and stepping out of the way when you hear a stagecoach coming down the street.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. So on Saturday, we’ll go into town together and–”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Joe–”

“Look, I’m not the kid brother you can boss around any more.”

“I realize that, and I’m not bossing. But you were the one who asked me to be your teacher, and as your teacher, I’m telling you a trip to town is part of learning to cope with being blind.”

“Well maybe I don’t wanna cope! Maybe I don’t give a damn about coping!”

“You may not give a damn about it, but one way or another, you have to come to terms with it. And that means putting up with people staring at you, pointing at you, and probably even whispering behind your back as you walk away.”

“If that’s what coping’s all about, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Joe, you’re not the only person in this family who’s been stared at, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Um. . .nothing. Nothing.”

Joe scowled. “That’s what I thought. Nothing. Because you don’t know. Because you’re “Perfect Adam,” and you always have been.”

“I’m not perfect.”

“Sure you are. The Cartwright brother who’s always had all the right answers. The Cartwright brother Pa depended on to help him make the important decisions for the Ponderosa, until you weren’t here any more, and Pa figured out Hoss and I aren’t as dumb as he thought.”

“Joe–”

“The Cartwright brother who’s never made mistakes, never made a bad decision, and never made a fool of himself. So yeah, Adam, it’s easy for you to tell me I should go into town, because you’ve never been stared at or pointed at a day in your life! Until you know how that feels, don’t tell me what I have to do!”

Joe flew from his chair and stumbled for the front door, angry at how difficult his sightless eyes made fleeing from a situation he no longer wanted to be a part of. He expected his brother to follow him, but he didn’t hear any footsteps behind him, nor did Adam come outside and try to prevent him from leaving on Cochise. That was just fine with Joe. He didn’t need a babysitter, or a teacher for that matter. Maybe it was time for Adam to go back to Boston. Maybe it was time for Adam to go back to his life, and let Pa, Hoss, and Joe, return to theirs.

But what exactly is my life now? Joe wondered as he rode wherever Cochise took him. What can I do that’ll ever be of any use around here? Of any use to Pa, or to Hoss?

Being on Cochise without someone riding beside him was probably reckless, but Joe didn’t care. Cochise knew the way home, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to Joe. Besides, it felt good to be outside alone, traveling on Cochise like he used to back when he’d taken his eyesight for granted. 

Joe trusted Cochise to take him wherever the horse was inclined to. By the warmth on his face, Joe knew they were headed west, but their exact location was a mystery. Joe listened hard for the sound of water lapping against rocks, or the sound of men working cattle, or breaking horses, but he didn’t hear any of the things that might have oriented him to his whereabouts. Still, it didn’t bother him not to be able to discern his location. When Cochise crossed from uneven terrain to a smooth surface, Joe didn’t urge the horse to alter his path until he heard a buggy. That’s when he realized they were on Virginia City Road.

Joe gave the reins an urgent tug to the right. “Come on, Cooch.”

“Joe!” A woman’s voice called from in front of Joe. “Joe, wait! Joe!”

“Come on, Cochise, let’s–”

“Joe, wait! Please!”

Evidently, Cochise was as easily swayed by a pretty face as his master, because he ignored Joe’s command, and stood in the middle of the road waiting for the buggy to reach them.

“Joe! It’s so nice to see you.”

Joe pulled the brim of his hat low on his forehead, and “looked” down at his saddle horn.

“Uh. . .hi, Sally. Nice to see you, too.”

“I ask your father about you every Sunday at church.”

“Yeah. . .um. . .he’s mentioned that.”

“I hope you’re feeling better.”

“I am. I’m feelin’ real good.”

By the silence that followed, Joe suspected the woman was studying him, trying to determine if any signs of injury remained. 

“I’m glad to hear that, and glad I ran across you, as well. I was just on my way to your house.”

“You were?”

“I made you some strawberry jam as a get-well present.”

“Oh. . .thanks. Thanks a lot.”

Joe hoped she wasn’t holding the jam out to him, expecting him to get off of Cochise and come retrieve it. The awkward silence that followed told Joe that’s exactly what Sally was doing. She rushed to fill that silence.

“Here, let me bring this to. . .Whoops!”

“Wha. . .what’s wrong?”

“I’ve got my skirts caught in the wheel. No, Bonnie, don’t! Whoa! Don’t move! Whoa, Bonnie! Whoa!”

Joe slid off Cochise and hurried to Sally’s side. In his haste, he forgot Adam’s instructions on how to travel an open area, and instead, fell back into the old habit of waving his hands in front of him.

There was something in Sally’s tone that indicated she’d seen Joe’s actions and knew what they meant. Her, “Thank you,” when he’d gotten Bonnie halted, was hesitant and soft, and held embarrassment for him. Sally released her skirts without Joe’s help, then placed the jar in his hands.

“Here, Joe. The jam’s right–”

He shoved it back at her. “I don’t want it.”

“But I made it for you.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why? Why was it so important to come and see me? So you can tell your girlfriends the rumors they’ve heard are true? That Joe Cartwright really is a helpless blind man who can’t even assist a woman in getting out of a buggy.”

“Joe. . .no. No, I–”

“Just go, Sally. Go, and take this with you.”

Joe shoved the jar at the woman again, forcing it into her hands. He turned, stumbling for Cochise, while Sally called his name. Her presence made it impossible for Joe to concentrate on climbing into the saddle. Cochise did a two-step away from his master, skittish over the sudden yelling and upset.

“Go! Go I said!” Joe hollered, knowing he’d never manage to get on Cochise with Sally staring at him. “Get outta here!”

Joe heard Sally’s cry of surprise at his cruelty, followed by a choked sob. Then he heard the buggy being turned around, and Bonnie urged to travel at a clipped pace toward the Morris homestead. At any other time, Joe would have felt like a cad for treating a woman so poorly, especially one he’d been smitten with. But not today. He hadn’t asked Sally to call on him. He hadn’t asked her to make him jam. And most of all, he hadn’t asked for her pity.

As Joe struggled to climb back on Cochise while the horse turned nervous circles, he heard riders coming. The sound made Joe even more desperate to get on his mount and flee this open area. But desperation wasn’t a blind man’s friend, as Joe was finding out. The more urgent he became, the less cooperative Cochise became. With one foot caught in a stirrup, Joe was forced to dance in a circle with Cochise like some sissy fella who’d never sat a horse.

“Joe! Joe, stop!”

“Joe, do as Hoss says and quit moving! Grab the reins and pull back! They’re directly above your left hand!”

Worse even than Sally Morris seeing him in this predicament, was having Adam and Hoss see him while riding to his rescue.

Joe didn’t know who got a hold of Cochise’s reins, but an educated guess told him it was Hoss. 

“You okay, little brother?”

“I’m fine.”

A mammoth hand cupped his upper arm and started to lift. Joe jerked away.

“I can do it myself!”

“Don’t much look like it to me.”

“Well I can! Just hold onto him for me.”

“Whatever you say, Joe.”

Adam’s voice followed Hoss’s.

“The saddle horn is–”

“I know where the saddle horn is!”

Joe didn’t need his eyesight to know his brothers exchanged glances. 

“Quit looking at each other like that!”

“Like what?” Adam asked.

“Like you’re both so smart, and I’m so stupid.”

“We’re not looking at–” 

“Yes you are!”

Adam sighed, but didn’t say anything. Hoss evidently knew better than to contribute his two cents worth at this moment, as well, because all he said was, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Home to what, Joe wanted to ask. More Braille lessons? More games of Braille checkers? More lessons on learning how to live with being blind? Live? This wasn’t living. This was death as far as Joe was concerned. A slow, painful death, that had stripped every ounce of dignity from him, and made him so dependant on others that he couldn’t even get home by himself on the back of a horse he’d ridden since childhood.

As he rode flanked by his silent brothers, as though he was once again an errant schoolboy being taken home to Pa for punishment, Joe wished the explosion had killed him. In his opinion, death couldn’t be any worse than spending the rest of his life in darkness. 

And when all was said and done, it might even turn out to be better.

Chapter 9

Supper was a subdued affair. Not since the first evening Adam arrived, had Joe refused to come downstairs and eat, but this evening he did. By the worry on Pa’s face, and how little he ate, Adam knew this step backwards on Joe’s part was gnawing at their father’s insides.

“I’m sorry, Pa. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been so insistent about Joe taking a trip with me into Virginia City.”

“Would you have insisted with any other student?”

“Well. . .yes. Yes, I would have.”

“Then don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Then allow me to apologize for handling it the wrong way.”

“Handling it the wrong way?”

Adam smiled with chagrin. “Joe was right. He’s not the kid brother I can boss around any more.”

“Meaning?” Pa questioned. 

“Meaning, Joe and I are apparently still bound to butt heads every so often over our birth order.” At the confusion on his father’s face, Adam explained, “He still thinks being the oldest is an enviable position he missed out on, and I still think being the youngest wouldn’t be so bad on most days.”

“Well, no matter how ya’ look at it, I’m the brother who’s always caught in the middle between ya’ two ornery cusses.”

“That you are, Hoss,” Adam laughed. “That you are.”

“ ‘Sides, I think Joe’s mood is about somethin’ way more ‘an that, Adam.”

“Way more than what?”

“You and him havin’ a quarrel over goin’ into Virginia City.”

“How so?” Pa asked, as Hoss speared another pork chop from the platter.

“I saw the Morris rig on Virginia City Road this afternoon. I was too far away to see who was drivin’, other than to say it was a woman – unless ol’ George has takin’ to wearin’ dresses and bonnets.”

“Sally?”

Hoss nodded. “I think so. I bet she was headed here to see Joe, and he ran across her when he was out on Cochise.”

Adam didn’t know Sally Morris, but he’d heard her mentioned several times since he’d arrived. He assumed the Morris family had moved to the area sometime after he’d gone to sea. He thought a moment, then asked his father, “Does Sally Morris mean a lot to Joe?”

“She does. Before the accident, I was certain Sally was the girl he’d finally settle down with.”

“Then it makes sense.”

“What makes sense?”

“How upset he was when Hoss and I found him. Why he wants to be left alone this evening.”

When Adam didn’t say anything further, Pa asked, “Would you care to explain it to me and your brother?”

“Don’t you see? He’s gotten at least somewhat comfortable with the thought of being blind, as long as the outside world doesn’t intrude. Around us, around Candy and Hop Sing, around the hands he’s worked closely with for years, he’s coming to accept that he has to ask for assistance sometimes, and he’s come to trust that if he stumbles stepping off the front porch, no one’s going to laugh at him. But today, the outside world did intrude, and in the form of a woman who means a lot to him. The last thing a man wants is to appear weak or helpless in front of a woman. I suspect Joe felt both of those things by the time Sally went on her way. Her unexpected presence emphasized to him that the outside world is going to intrude whether he wants it to or not, and that he’s the only one who’s in control of how he handles such intrusions.”

“So it was kinda like a test?” Hoss asked.

“Yes,” Adam agreed, “kind of like that. And speaking from my own experience, I’d venture to guess Joe thinks he’s failed at this particular test, and failed badly. I’d also venture to guess that right now, he can’t see you sometimes have to fail before you can succeed.”

“When will he see that?”

“Hoss, if I had the answer to that question, I’d make my living traveling from town to town with a crystal ball, instead of spending each day trying to interest young boys in classic literature.” 

Adam glanced up the stairway. “But knowing our little brother like I do, I don’t need a crystal ball to tell me that when he finally does come to the realization that he has to fail before he succeeds, it’ll only happen the hard way, and with a good deal of stubborn resistance thrown in to boot.”

“I don’t need no crystal ball ta’ tell me that, either.”

“Nor do I,” Pa said with a chuckle.

If nothing else, even though one chair at the table remained empty, supper ended on a lighter note than it had begun.

Chapter 10

Joe didn’t know what time it was when he heard the first rumble of thunder, and smelled the damp air that blew in through his window, heavy with the scent of the coming storm. His best estimate of the time – somewhere around one in the morning – was based on when everyone had gone to bed, which was two, maybe even three hours ago. Pa stopped in Joe’s room then, asking if Joe wouldn’t let Hop Sing bring up a supper tray.

“No. I don’t want anything.”

“Joe–” 

“I don’t want anything, Pa.”

“Joe. . .son, it’ll get better. I promise.”

“Unless you can promise my eyesight’ll return, then no, Pa, it won’t get better.”

There was a part of Joe that regretted the way he hurt his father with those words, and yet, a part of him that didn’t care. He just wanted Pa to go away. He hated what his blindness was doing to the man. He hated the worry, the fear, the despair, and the hopelessness he heard in his father’s voice. Emotions he hadn’t heard since prior to Adam’s arrival. As though Adam had the power to make everything all right. 

For a while, even Joe was fooled into thinking Adam had that power. That Adam’s presence would somehow change things, because Adam was the oldest son, and the smartest son, and the son with all the answers. But now they must face the fact that Adam traveling all the way from Boston really hadn’t made a tinker’s damn worth of difference. Oh sure, Joe learned to read Braille, and saddle Cochise, and get down the stairs without falling. But overall, what good did any of those things do him? Today had been proof that he couldn’t ride Cochise anywhere without an escort. And knowing how to read and write Braille weren’t exactly assets on the Ponderosa, unless Pa suddenly started doing business with blind men. Joe supposed it was good that he was no longer falling down the stairs, though actually, a broken neck might be more of a blessing than a curse. At least it would end all of this pain, and allow Adam to return to his home, and Pa and Hoss to return to running the Ponderosa without being burdened by the son and brother who was now dependant on them for so many things.

Pa left the room as quietly as he’d entered. Joe could feel the man’s anguish long after he was gone. 

“I’m sorry, Pa,” he whispered in a ragged voice. “I’m so damn sorry.”

One by one, bedroom doors closed, and the house grew quiet. Joe still found it strange to pass from day to night without noticing any difference, because to him, it was always nighttime now. In this ever-dark world, his room seemed like a prison cell. Yes, it was the place he retreated to when he didn’t want his family to bother him, but it was also the place that effectively penned him in, and kept him safe. No one had to worry about Joe when he was in his room, because short of falling out of the window, he couldn’t do himself any harm here. The thought of spending the rest of his life sequestered from people, activity, and the outdoors, was more than Joe could bear. Today’s encounter with Sally only further proved to Joe that he’d never again live the life he’d been accustomed to, despite Adam’s promises to the contrary.

Joe cradled his head in his hands. Not only was the world around him dark, the light inside him had been extinguished, too. When you had no purpose, you had no reason to go on living. Now Joe understood why he’d often heard old cowhands say they’d rather die in the saddle than be put out to pasture. Joe would have rather died in the saddle too, so to speak, but as things stood now, he was doomed to wallow in this pasture of darkness for years to come. 

The thought of wallowing didn’t set well with Joe Cartwright’s independent spirit. Sometimes a man was left with no way to prove he could still make his own decisions. Still be in control of his destiny. Given his current condition, Joe didn’t have many ways to prove those things, but he did have one or two.

Using the techniques he’d been taught by Adam, Joe stood and walked to his closet. He opened the door, and with a questing hand, searched the top shelf. He’d encountered his gun and gun belt by accident the other day, when putting some clothes away. All this time, he’d assumed the gun was on the sideboard, or perhaps had been stored in a drawer of Pa’s desk. After all, what good was a gun to a blind man? But someone – Hop Sing perhaps? – had brought the revolver to Joe’s room, and put it in the closet. It made perfect sense when you thought about it. Hop Sing had probably gotten tired of dusting around the revolver, and he didn’t have a key to Pa’s desk, or to the gun cabinet. Hop Sing likely never thought of what the gun could be used for if Joe ran across it on a rainy night when life no longer seemed worth living. 

Joe didn’t need his eyesight to smoothly slip the gun from its holster. He rotated the cylinder, and using nothing but one finger, was assured bullets were still cradled in the chamber. He carried the gun to his bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. The firearm seemed unusually heavy in Joe’s left hand, as though it was trying to send him a message. As though it was asking him not to do what he was contemplating. But that was stupid, because a gun couldn’t send a person a message, any more than those soothsayers could who came to Virginia City once a year with the traveling show.

When the thunder, lightning, and rain started in earnest, Joe stood and headed for his door. If nothing else, he was now good at navigating in the dark. The sound of the storm covered his movements, making it easy to get to the first floor undetected. He walked to the liquor cabinet housed at the far end of Pa’s study, and pulled out a bottle that, judging from its weight in his hand, was a little more than half full. A bottle of what, he didn’t know until he uncorked it and took a whiff. Whiskey. Not Joe’s drink of choice, but not one he’d refuse either. Especially if someone else was buying. And tonight, in a figurative manner of speaking, Joe supposed Pa was doing just that.

Joe didn’t bother with a glass. He tipped the bottle, taking a long, careless swig that allowed liquor to run down his chin and stain his shirt. Cradling the bottle against his right side, and with his gun in his left hand, he walked toward the front door. 

The rain they’d needed for so long hit the dry ground with hard splats. Water pelted Joe’s skin like pebbles. He headed for the barn, cursing when the toe of his left boot caught a hitching post. He tumbled forward, barely managing to keep the whiskey upright. He climbed to his feet, no longer sure which direction he was traveling in, but not caring, either. 

It was only by chance that Joe bumped into a corner of the barn. He slid along the rough boards of the structure until he reached the doors. He set his bottle down long enough to open them, picked the bottle up, and slipped inside the building. His clothing was drenched, his saturated hair dripping water down his face and neck. 

With his gun still in his left hand, Joe felt his way to Cochise’s stall. He eased himself to the ground, leaning back against a wooden support beam. The horse nickered softly behind him, and for just a moment, a nose nuzzled Joe’s wet curls.

Joe lifted the bottle in the form of a salute to his loyal mount.

“Might as well get this party started. Here’s to you and me, Cooch.” 

Joe took his second long swig of the night, followed quickly by a third, and then a fourth, and then more swigs than he could keep track of. The liquor burned going down, but soon the burning changed to a comforting sort of warmth. The kind of warmth that wrapped Joe tightly in its embrace, and made him forget that what he intended to do in this barn would break his father’s heart, leave Hoss grieving for his best friend, and send Adam back to Boston thinking he’d failed.

“Well, ya’ didn’t fail, Adam,” Joe slurred, as he took another healthy swallow. “I just ain’t much of a student, big brother. Guezz ya’ could say I flunked. Yep, thaz what I did. I flunked bein’ blind, ‘cause I just ain’t no good at it.” 

Tears ran down Joe’s cheeks as he caressed the butt of his gun.

“Nope, I just ain’t no good at it. I’m sorry, Pa. I’m sorry, Hoss. Adam. . .I’m. . . I’m sorry. I’m real sorry, but I just ain’t no good at bein’ blind.”

Chapter 11

Thunder rattled the windowpane, waking Adam. He turned away from the sound and was just about to drift off to sleep again, when lightning cracked somewhere in the distance, splitting a tree in half. Adam came to full awareness as rain slammed against the side of the house. He threw the sheet back and yawned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He crossed to his window, the billowing curtains tangling around his shoulders. He freed himself of the material and shut the window, effectively keeping both the wind and rain outside where they belonged. He listened for sounds in the house indicating someone else was up and moving about, but couldn’t hear much over the storm. 

I’d better see if Pa’s shutting windows, or if I need to do it.

Adam lit the lamp on his nightstand. He pulled on the pants he’d laid across the end of the bed when he’d retired, then grabbed a clean shirt and a pair of socks from a dresser drawer. He put the socks on and slipped into the shirt, but didn’t bother buttoning it, or tucking the tails in. He picked up the lamp and exited the room. 

Adam’s light cast a yellowish glow against the log walls of the hallway. Pa’s bedroom door was still closed, as was Hoss’s. It wasn’t like Pa to sleep through such a powerful storm. Adam suspected his father’s continuous worries over Joe, and the restless nights those worries caused, had finally caught up with the man. He rapped on the door, calling softly, “Pa.” 

When there was no answer, Adam knocked again.

“Pa?”

When his father still didn’t respond, Adam opened the door. Pa was sleeping on his right side in the center of the big bed and remained oblivious to Adam’s presence. Adam set his lamp on the dresser, then crossed to the window. He shut it, retrieved the lamp, and exited the room as quietly as he’d entered. 

Adam knocked on Hoss’s door next. As with Pa, he received no response other than the loud snores that indicated Hoss was sleeping on his back. Adam entered the room. As another deafening snore vibrated the pitcher on the washstand, he thought it was a wonder Joe hadn’t come in here and made Hoss turn over – a ritual that dated back to when Hoss was no more than sixteen, and started raising the rafters with his snoring. Maybe Joe couldn’t hear Hoss over the storm. Or considering the snores rivaled the rumbling thunder outside, maybe Joe couldn’t distinguish between Mother Nature and his brother.

Adam repeated the pattern he’d followed in Pa’s room. He set his lamp on Hoss’s dresser and shut the window. Unlike Pa, however, the presence of someone in the room woke Hoss in the middle of a snore. 

“Rrrrph. Umph?” Hoss hitched himself up on his elbows. Wispy hair stood in wayward tuffs, looking as out of sorts as Hoss himself. The large man squinted into the glow of the lamp. 

“Adam?”

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s raining. I came in to shut your window. Go back to sleep.”

Hoss glanced toward the window. “Rainin’?”

“Uh huh. Pretty wild storm, too.”

Hoss settled back down on the mattress. “Good. Need the rain. ‘Night.”

“Good night.”

Adam picked up his lamp and slipped from the room. He smiled and shook his head with affection when the snores started again.

The man proceeded down the hall to Joe’s room. This door was open. He held up his lamp, looking inside. Joe’s window was raised, but the bed hadn’t been slept in. 

Mmmm. If I didn’t know better, little brother, I’d think you were up to your old tricks of sneaking out in the middle of the night to go meet up with some girl, or join your buddies in a poker game. But you’re too old to have to sneak out of the house these days, and somehow I don’t think even you’d be foolish enough to climb down from a two story window without your eyesight. Or at least I hope you’re not that foolish.

Adam craned his head, looking out the window just to make certain he was right. When he didn’t see signs of anyone below, he shut Joe’s window and left the room.

He must be downstairs shutting windows. Or maybe skipping supper got the best of him, and he’s raiding Hop Sing’s pantry.

Adam headed for the stairway. If Joe hadn’t already shut them, the windows in the dining area would be open. It wasn’t until Adam reached the landing that he saw the open front door. He frowned with puzzlement as he made his way down the reminder of the stairs, and hurried to shut the windows behind the dining room table. The kitchen was dark and silent. Adam stepped in there briefly, his lamp revealing nothing but an empty room.

The man walked back to the foyer. Water soaked the soles of his socks as he went to the doorway and looked out. It was too dark to see anything, until a streak of lightning made it seem like noon. Though the opportunity to view the ranch yard didn’t last long, it was long enough for Adam to spot the open barn doors.

What the. . . .? Joe must be out there. Wonder if he heard something? Maybe one of the horses got spooked.

Adam set his lamp on the sideboard and grabbed his boots from behind the door. He pulled the boots on and left his lamp where it was, exchanging it for a lantern. He lit the lantern and picked it up by its wire handle. He stepped out into the storm, firmly shutting the door so no more water would blow into the house. With running strides, Adam crossed the ranch yard, his shirttails flying out behind him like a cape.

Chapter 12

“Joe? Hey, Joe, are you out here? Joe!”

Adam lifted the lantern, shining it around the yard as he ran toward the barn. 

“Joe! Joe, where are you? Joe! Joe, where–”

“Lookz like ya’ found me, big brother.”

Adam stopped in the barn’s doorway. He stepped farther into the structure when the driving rain began to soak his clothing. He hung the lantern from a nearby hook. 

“What are you doing out here?”

Joe’s laughter spoke of silliness brought on by too much alcohol. 

“Boy, Adam, fer a smart guy, you surely can be dumb sometimes. Whaz it look like I’m doin’?”

“Feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Wrong.” 

“Oh really?”

“Don’t cock an eyebrow at me and say that like yer some kinda’ know-it-all.” Joe lifted his left hand, giving Adam his first view of the gun now being waved in his direction. “Which ya’ are, ya’ know. A know-it-all.”

Adam kept a wary eye on the gun. He wasn’t concerned Joe had any intention of shooting him, but regardless of intentions, a drunken blind man wielding a firearm warranted caution. 

“I am, huh?”

“Yep.” Joe took another swallow of whiskey. “Now, as far as what I’m doin’, Mr. Know-It-All. I’m gettin’ drunk.”

“Looks to me like you already are.”

“Oh no.” Joe shook his head with exaggerated awkwardness. “No no no no. I’m juz gettin’ started.” Now the bottle was waved at Adam instead of the gun. “Care ta’ join me?”

“Not right now. It’s late, Joe. Let me help you back to the house and–”

“No! I don’t need yer help! I’m fine juz where I am.”

“That’s your problem, isn’t it?”

“Whaz my problem?”

“The word help. You can’t accept that, for the rest of your life, there’re times when you’re going to need help.”

“Not for the rest of my life!”

“Yes, Joe, for the rest of your life.”

“No! I’ll get my sight back. Doc Martin says–” 

“Doc Martin doesn’t say anything, because he hasn’t been out here in weeks. Why do you think that is?”

“Because he’s biz . .biz. . .busy. . .” Joe stumbled over the words, trying to collect his muddled thoughts. “Busy mendin’ some cowboy’s busted leg. Or some miner’s busted arm, or some kid’s busted nose, or some woman’s busted ankle – boy, oh boy, we sure are a clumsy bunch ‘round these parts, aren’t we. Or maybe he’s deliverin’ a baby, or–” 

“Joe, he hasn’t been out here because he can’t help you. Because he knows your sight isn’t going to return, and that there’s no use in getting your hopes up, or making you empty promises.”

Joe struggled to stand. He fell back to his butt three times before he finally got to his feet. He swayed back and forth like he was on the deck of rocking ship.

“Shut up! Shut yer mouth, Adam! Go back to Boston where you belong! I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place. I don’t need you! I don’t need you, or anyone else for that matter!”

“Why? Because when you’ve got yourself plied with a sufficient amount of liquor you plan on putting that gun to your head and pulling the trigger?”

“So what if I do?”

“Have you given even the smallest bit of thought as to what that’ll do to Pa?”

“I’ll be doin’ him a favor.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because he won’t have to spend the rest of his life takin’ care of his blind son!”

“He doesn’t have to take care of you. No one has to take care of you.”

“I need help! You said so yourself.”

“Needing help is a lot different from being taken care of.”

“Not to me it’s not.”

“Okay, so to you it’s not. What’s supposed to happen come morning then? Am I supposed to tell Pa where to find your body? Or Hoss? How do you think Hoss’ll feel when he walks in to this barn, and sees you slumped over a stall with half your skull missing and your brains splattered all over the walls? What do you think a sight like that will do to Hoss, and then to Pa, when Hoss brings him out here?”

“I don’t care!”

Even though Joe couldn’t see him, Adam thrust a finger at his brother.

“Well you’d better care! You’d better start thinking of someone other than yourself for a change, Joe, because it’ll kill Pa. As surely as I’m standing here, it’ll kill Pa to see you like that. It’ll kill him to know you took your own life. He’ll spend the rest of his days wondering how he could have helped you. Wondering what he could have said that would have kept you from drinking yourself into a stupor, then using that gun to end your life.”

“He couldn’t have said anything! Tell him that, Adam. You tell him he couldn’t have said anything! Tell Pa it’s not his fault.”

“I’m not telling him a damn thing except that his youngest son was a coward!”

“I’m not a coward!” Joe raged over the thunder and driving rain.

“Looks to me like you are. Only a man who can’t face up to, and then conquer the hardships God has handed him, commits suicide.”

“Oh, so yer a preacher now too, is that it? Brother Adam, the preacher who holds church in a barn, with nothin’ but a blind drunk for an audience. Brother Adam Cartwright.” Joe giggled. “That’ll be easy to remember, ‘cause you already are my brother.”

“I’m not preaching. I’m just telling you–”

“You’re just tellin’ me horseshit. Blah, blah, blah. God, Adam, but you must put yer students right to sleep.” 

Joe lifted the bottle, gulping the remainder of the liquor in four swallows. The bottle slipped from his fingertips and fell to the barn floor with a “plunk” as he swiped at the whisky dribbling down his chin.

Joseph, you sure are a sloppy drunk. Now drop the gun like you did that bottle. 

But Joe hung onto the gun as he warmed up to his next subject.

“And you talk about conquer, Brother Adam?” Joe paced in unsteady circles as though he was the one giving a Sunday sermon. “What do you know about conquering anything? You can see. You can see, Adam! You sit at yer fancy job all day, then go home to yer fancy house, and yer fancy neighbors, and yer fancy parties, and Lord knows what all.” 

“You don’t know anything about how I conduct my life.”

Joe stopped, pivoting in the direction of Adam’s voice. “And just whose fault is that? You were the one who quit writing, not me! Well. . .okay, I did, but only after you quit writing first.”

“Joe–”

“And the hardships God has handed me, you say? Hardships? Being blind isn’t a hardship! Being blind is. . .it’s like a disease I can’t get rid of! It’s like I’m a cripple, do you understand? I’ve still got two arms and two legs, but I’m a goddamn cripple! I can’t do the things I used to do. People’ll look at me differently. They’ll treat me differently.” 

Joe pointed his gun toward the rafters, the butt resting against his temple, his index finger on the trigger. Although Joe couldn’t do himself much harm with the gun aimed in that direction, Adam feared this was his brother’s first step toward committing an act that would end in the kind of tragedy their father would never recover from.

Adam moved two steps closer to Joe.

“And that’s a reason to die? Because someone looks at you differently?”

“Yeah, it is! It’s a good reason as far as I’m concerned.”

“If you ask me, it’s a dumb reason.”

“Well I didn’t ask you! Besides, ya’ don’t know anything about it.”

“I’m getting a little weary of you telling me what I do and don’t know about. 
Now come on.” Adam stepped forward, shagging his brother by the arm. “Let’s go in the house.”

Joe jerked from Adam’s grasp. “Leave me alone!”

“I thought you were years past acting like a spoiled brat, but I guess I was wrong!”

“And I thought you were years past acting like a self-righteous, know-it-all jackass, but I guess I was wrong too!”

Adam took a deep breath, and then counted to ten in an effort to gain control of his temper. This exchange was proof that he and Joe could still get underneath one another’s skin if they put their minds to it. But now wasn’t the time for angry words they’d both eventually regret. Now was the time for Adam to do what older brothers do best. Take charge of the situation, calm everyone down, and in this case – get that damn gun out of Joe’s hand.

“Joe, look, I shouldn’t have called you a spoiled brat.” Adam took another step toward his brother, hoping the sound of the storm would prevent Joe from discerning how close he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Well if you’re expectin’ an applegy. . .appolog. . .appolo. . .damn, that’s a hard word to say when a man’s drunk.”

“Apology?”

“Thaz the one. So if yer expectin’ me to say sorry, I ain’t gonna, ‘cause I’m not ready to yet.”

“I’m not expecting anything. Now give me the gun, and let’s go in the house.”

“No.”

Adam let out a deep, pent-up breath. “Joe. . .”

Joe took a step backwards. “Quit movin’ towards me! Just go back to the house and leave me alone.”

“You stubborn hard-headed mule. Now come on! It’s late, and I’m sick and tired of standing here watching you wallow in self-pity because you can’t see. A lot of people can’t see. I’ve got an entire school full of children who can’t see. Children, Joe! Children who have accepted their lot in life with more dignity and grace than you seem to possess.”

With a cry of outrage, Joe doubled over and charged his brother, catching Adam below the ribs with his right shoulder. He backed the man up all the way to the far wall, slamming him against it, and driving Adam’s breath out in a pain filled “Ooof!” As Adam had known when he’d first arrived on the Ponderosa, he was no longer a match with Joe where strength was concerned. 

“Shut up!” Joe shouted. “Don’t lecture me about pity. I’m don’t pity myself!”

“You do too!” Adam struggled to push Joe off his chest. “You’ve done nothing but feel sorry for yourself since the day you lost your sight, and it’s past time you stop! It’s past time you face up to the rotten hand you’ve been dealt and learn to live with it!”

“What do you know about it? What do you know about any of it?”

“What do I know about it?” Adam finally managed to shove his brother away. “I’ll tell you what I know about it!”

Adam grabbed a fistful of Joe’s shirt and jerked him forward. He clasped onto Joe’s hand and pressed it to his right side.

“Feel that, Joe?” Adam shouted. “Do you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Exactly. Nothing! My right arm is gone. It’s gone, Joe.”

Joe staggered backwards. “Wha. . .what?”

“It’s gone. It had to be amputated after an. . .an accident at sea.”

“But. . .but why? Why. . .”

“Why didn’t Pa tell you?”

Joe swallowed hard and nodded. Adam’s news seemed to have sobered him up quicker than any of Hop Sing’s home remedies could have. 

“Because I asked him not to. Because I didn’t want you and Hoss to know.”

“Why?”

“Because, just like you, I went through a long period of time where I wallowed in self-pity. Because, just like you, I went through a long period of time where I didn’t want to be seen by anyone, or acknowledge what happened to me, or accept help from anyone. Not even my own family. And when I finally was able to move forward with my life. . .well, even though Pa knew of my physical limitations, I still couldn’t bring myself to let him tell you and Hoss. I didn’t want either of you feeling sorry for me.”

“I wouldn’t have–”

Adam smiled. “Yes, you would have. Just like I felt sorry for you, when Pa first wired me about the explosion. It’s taken me a long time, but I’ve come to learn that someone feeling sorry for me isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It just means that person cares.” 

Joe thought over Adam’s words. He finally gave a slow nod, then took a few hesitant steps toward his brother. His gun fell as he reached out his left arm. Adam grasped the arm as Joe stepped forward and buried his face in Adam’s chest. Whether the alcohol made it impossible for Joe to stand any longer, or whether he was simply exhausted, Adam wasn’t sure. Regardless, when Joe slowly crumpled to the barn floor, Adam went down with him.

Tears came to Adam’s eyes as Joe cried into his shirt. He rested his chin atop Joe’s head and rubbed his back while murmuring, “I know. It’s all right. I know. It’s okay,” each time Joe said, “I’m sorry, Adam. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Adam knew the repeated apologies covered an array of things Joe was unable to voice. From the name-calling, to the words said in anger, to all of the times in recent weeks that Joe had accused Adam of not understanding what he was going through, to Joe’s sorrow over the physical handicap Adam had lived with day in and day out for the past three years.

“Don’t cry for me, Joe,” Adam said gently. “Don’t cry for me.”

Joe’s arm wrapped tighter around Adam’s vacant right side. 

“I’m. . .I’m just sorry I didn’t know. I would have helped you. If I’d have known, I’d have done anything I could to help you.”

“I know you would have. But you didn’t know, and that was by my choice. Don’t blame yourself, kid. Don’t blame yourself.”

Adam’s use of the word “kid” got a small chuckle from Joe. 

“Haven’t been a kid for a while now. Got the gray hair to prove it.”

“Yes, you do, but no matter how gray your hair gets, you’ll always be my kid brother.”

The storm had quieted to a soft, steady rain, by the time Joe loosened his grasp on Adam and sat up. He swiped at his eyes in a self-conscious sort of way that Adam tactfully ignored. 

Adam hooked his left hand beneath Joe’s armpit. “Come on. Let’s get up off this floor.”

Joe didn’t protest when Adam helped him stand. He swayed for a moment, but Adam surmised that was more from the effects of a long, emotional night, rather than from the whiskey. 

Adam bent and picked up Joe’s gun. He thrust it at his brother.

“Here. Hold onto this.”

Adam could tell Joe was surprised that he’d trust him with the gun. He could also tell he’d made the correct decision. Joe needed to realize that when he stumbled – literally or figuratively speaking – Adam had confidence he would get back on his feet again, and keep going in the right direction. 

“And I’ll get rid of this before Pa finds it.”

“What?”

“The whiskey bottle.”

“Oh. Good idea.”

“I think so too,” Adam said, as he buried the bottle in the bottom of a wooden barrel used for trash. 

Actually, Adam wasn’t concerned that Pa would say much of anything to his twenty-nine year old son for over imbibing, and he doubted Joe was too concerned about it, either. But the less Pa knew of what almost transpired in this barn tonight, the better.

Adam took the lantern off the hook. He carried it in his hand, while jutting his elbow toward Joe and giving him a gentle nudge. 

“Come on. I think it’s past time we call it a night, don’t you?”

“Guess so.” Joe laid a hand on Adam’s arm, using it for guidance as they walked from the barn. He was still unsteady on his feet, and his words came a bit slowly, as though his alcohol-laden brain had to think hard to string them together. “If Pa figures out I’m hung over come morning, he’ll be tossing me out of bed at daybreak.”

“Probably,” Adam agreed as he stopped to close the barn doors. “Though he won’t hear it from me.”

“Thanks, Adam. I don’t want him to know about. . .you know. The gun and all.”

“I know. And you’re welcome.”

The brothers walked together through the rain to the house. Adam made sure everything would look as it should to Pa come morning. He put his boots back where they belonged and blew out the lantern, returning it to the sideboard while retrieving his lamp. Joe’s hand remained on Adam’s arm as they climbed the stairs. When they reached Joe’s room, Adam stopped.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Adam turned to head toward his own room. “Good night.”

“Hey, Adam,” Joe called softly.

Adam turned around.

“Yes?”

Joe pointed in the general direction of Adam’s missing arm. 

“Guess this means we’re both left handed now, huh?”

It was the kind of bad joke only brothers would find funny. And then even funnier, when a deep voice from behind a thick oak door shouted, “What in blazes are you two doing out there laughing like a couple of wild hyenas? Do either of you know what time it is?” 

“Uh. . .sorry, Pa,” Adam apologized.

“Yeah,” Joe said in-between one of his staccato laughs. “Sorry, Pa.”

“Don’t be sorry! Just go back to bed!”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Sure, Pa.”

“Now!” came the shout, when Joe’s laughter started all over again.

It had been a rough night, but nonetheless, it was times like this that made it difficult for Adam to think about returning to Boston. Without his family being aware of it, Adam’s work here was almost finished. However, he had a proposal to make to Joe, but that could wait until later in the day. Even at forty-two years of age, Adam wasn’t willing to try his father’s patience at three in the morning.

“ ‘Night, Joe,” Adam whispered.

“ ‘Night,” Joe stage-whispered in return, still laughing.

Adam waited in the hall until Joe entered his room and closed the door. He turned for his own room again, all remnants of humor evaporating as he wondered how Pa would take it if he were told his youngest son was leaving the Ponderosa, and moving across the country to start his life anew.

Chapter 13

Two weeks had passed since the much needed rain storm. Ben Cartwright sat at his desk, recording figures next to names in the ranch’s payroll ledger. He glanced up when the front door opened, but couldn’t see who’d entered. Nonetheless, by the careful, steady-paced walk, he knew it was his youngest son. 

Gone were the days when Joe bounded in and tossed his hat on the sideboard with a cheery, “Hi, Pa!” What Ben wouldn’t give to hear the footsteps that indicated the energy and fearlessness that had defined Joseph Cartwright since birth. Although Ben knew the energy was still present, it was now tempered by the caution Joe exercised so he wouldn’t trip over a piece of furniture, tumble down the stairs, or walk into a wall. 

As far as fear went. . .well, Ben silently acknowledged no man was without fear, regardless of how vehemently that man might deny it. But as Joe’s father, it caused Ben deep pain to think of the fears Joe now had to live with by virtue of having lost his sight. The things most people took for granted – the ability to flee a burning house, jump out of the way of boisterous cowhands racing their horses down a Virginia City street, navigate alone outdoors – were all situations that could cost Joe his life without someone nearby to assist him. These possibilities, and so many others, worried Ben. He wanted to do all he could to keep his son free from harm. Yet Ben knew Adam was right, each time Adam reminded him that he’d do Joe more harm by trying to restrict his movements, rather than let him explore the world as a blind man, and take a few falls along the way.

“Pa?”

Ben forced a false note of cheerfulness to his voice, just like he’d done for so many weeks now whenever he spoke to Joe.

“I’m right here, Joseph. In the study.” 

Joe came around the wall and stopped when his left hand encountered the front corner of his father’s desk.

“So, you boys are back from your ride?”

“Adam and I are. Hoss stopped to help Candy fix some fencing damaged during that storm.”

“Where is Adam, then?”

“Taking care of the horses.”

“And he’s not bossing you around,” Ben teased, “while making you help?” 

“No, not this time for a change.”

“Then you might as well get washed up for supper. Hop Sing’s been banging things around in the kitchen for the last two hours, which can only mean we’re going to eat soon.”

“Yeah, probably so. But. . .uh. . .Pa, I need. . .I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes first, if you have the time.”

“Of course I have the time. It sounds serious.”

“No. Not serious. Well, I suppose it’s kind of serious.” Hastily, Joe added, “But it’s nothing bad.”

“It’s been quite a few years since I’ve worried about you reporting anything of a “bad” nature to me.”

“Guess that’s true,” Joe agreed. “Boy, I’ve sure gotten boring in my old age, haven’t I?”

Ben laughed. “I wouldn’t say that.” He put his pencil on the open ledger page, stood, and placed a hand on his son’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s go over and sit down.”

Joe didn’t protest as his father led him to the settee. He sat on the end closest to the dining area, while Ben sat in his leather chair.

Joe’s legs jiggled up and down, that movement indicating his uneasiness to Ben. If this had been fifteen years ago, Ben would have known he was about to be told of a poor mark in school, or a homework assignment left undone, or a prank pulled in town that Mitch Devlin and Joe had gotten caught at. But because Joe hadn’t needed to confess to misdeeds of that nature in a good number of years now, Ben was left uncertain regarding the source of his son’s nervousness.

“Joe?”

“Uh. . .yeah?”

“You said you needed to talk to me.”

“Um. . .yeah.” Joe stilled his legs. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then just go ahead and say what’s on your mind, son.” 

“Okay. . .um. . .well, I. . .Pa. . .um, Pa. . .Adam’s. . .Adam’s. . .uh. . .”

“Adam’s what?”

“Adam. . .he’s asked me to go back to Boston with him.”

Although this announcement of a visit East was unexpected, Ben couldn’t say he was completely surprised by it. He didn’t know what had transpired between Adam and Joe the night of the storm – other than some heavy drinking on Joe’s part that the boys thought their father was ignorant of – but ever since then, Joe’s mood had improved, and no longer did he sink into periods of depression. Or at least not so that it was obvious to his family. 

Ben had also come to realize it was sometime that night when Adam finally told Joe he’d lost his arm. What transpired between the boys in that regard was never spoken of to Ben, either. But he’d noticed Adam no longer kept the right side of his body shielded from Joe, and he’d also overheard a couple of jokes about Adam now being left-handed too. As well, something about the sudden improvement in Joe’s mindset indicated to Ben that Joe finally understood he wasn’t alone when it came to being forced to adjust to a new way of life.

“Pa?” Joe questioned with trepidation at Ben’s silence. He joked, “You still here?”

“I’m still here, Joe. Just thinking a moment.”

“So. . .?”

“So. . .I’d say it’s a good idea.”

“You would?”

Ben chuckled. “Don’t sound so shocked. Yes, I would. It’ll be a nice opportunity for you to see. . .for you to get acquainted with a different part of the country. You deserve a long vacation. Then right after the fall cattle drive, Hoss and I’ll join you for a couple of weeks. Candy can run things here while we’re gone. We’ll celebrate an early Christmas with Adam, then the three of us can head home before winter sets in and travel becomes unpredictable.”

“Um. . .uh. . .yeah, that sounds good. You and Hoss coming to Boston, I mean. Adam would like that. But. . .uh. . .Pa, I. . .um. . .”

“You what?”

“I. . .I’m not talking about visiting Adam. I’m talking about living with him.”

“Living with him?”

Joe nodded. “Moving there.”

Now it was Ben who couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice. “Permanently?”

“Yeah.” Joe smiled and shrugged. “Or at least until I wear out my welcome. Maybe eventually I’ll buy a home there and hire someone to help me with the things I can’t do. Adam said Boston is full of “gentlemen’s assistants,” whatever that involves.”

Almost absently, Ben recited, “Helping you with your mail and other personal correspondence, doing household chores, doing the marketing, taking you where you need to go in the buggy, things of that nature.”

“That’s what I thought. Sounds pretty stuffy for a bronc buster like me, but that’s a ways off yet. I’ll be living with Adam until I save the money to go out on my own.”

“Joe, you don’t have to save any money. I’ll give you whatever is needed for a home and the hired help you require.”

“No, Pa!”

“No?”

“No,” Joe shook his head. “Don’t you see? That’s exactly why I have to do this.”

“Do what?” Ben leaned forward in his chair. “Son, I’ll admit I’m confused. Just what is it that’s suddenly so attractive about moving to Boston? I can have a house built for you right here on the Ponderosa if that’s what you want. I can hire as many assistants as you need. I can–”

“Listen to yourself, Pa. It’s all you. What you can do for me.”

“But you’re my son. I want to do things for you.”

“I know, and I’m grateful for that. I really am. But I don’t wanna take charity.”

“Charity! Joseph–”

“I wanna pull my own weight, just like you’ve always expected your sons to do. I don’t want you giving me a house and money if I’m not doing anything in return to earn them.”

“But you will do things in return to earn them.”

“What? What will I do? I can’t see, Pa. I’m never gonna see again.”

“Joe–”

“No, don’t say it. You and I both know it’s true. I’m not gonna get my eyesight back. Because of that, I need to figure out a way to earn a living, and I just don’t see how that’s possible here on the Ponderosa.”

Ben cast about for something to say. Something to offer Joe that would make him feel useful, and as though he’d be able to earn his keep. The problem was, there was little Ben could think of. 

As though he could read his father’s mind, Joe said, “See, you can’t come up with anything either.”

“That’s because I haven’t given it a lot of thought yet. I. . .I’ve been hoping as much as you have that this condition would be temporary.”

“I know,” Joe said softly. “But you and I both have to face that it’s not going to turn out that way.”

“Yes,” Ben acknowledged in a tone as quiet as Joe’s, “I suppose we do, don’t we.” 

Joe allowed his father a minute to gather his thoughts and emotions before speaking again.

“There’s just not a lot of things I can do on a ranch to earn a living, Pa. But in Boston I can earn a living.”

“Doing what?”

“Teaching at Adam’s school.”

“Teaching?”

Joe chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Me, Joe Cartwright, a teacher. Who’d have ever believed it, given how much I hated sitting in a schoolhouse all day. But Adam’s been talking to me about it the past couple weeks. He’s even been teaching me how to be a teacher.”

“What exactly would you teach, son?”

“Skills for the blind. Adam said another teacher aside from Miss Brockington is needed to work with the new pupils. He’s wanted to split off her classes for some time. Have her teach just the girls, and have a male teacher for the boys. He said he hasn’t been able to find the right person for the job, and that he thinks I might be that person. The school board would have to approve of me first though, so it’s not like I’m guaranteed the job or anything. But Adam thinks I have a pretty good chance.”

“Well, I don’t suppose Adam would ask you travel all the way to Boston unless he’s fairly confident the school board will hire you.”

“He said as much. And he even wants me to teach the students about living and working on a ranch.”

“Sounds like your area of expertise.”

Joe smiled. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can convince the school board I know a few things about ranching.”

“I’m certain you can.”

“It’ll. . .it’ll be a big change for me. To live back East, and teach school. It’s not something I ever thought about, let alone thought I might be doing someday. But I hope you understand why I have to give this a try.”

As much as Ben hated to endorse this idea, he wouldn’t be doing right by his youngest if he didn’t give Joe his full support.

“Yes, Joe, I understand.”

Joe brightened. “You do?” 

“I do. But don’t think there won’t be some bumps in the road. Some adjustments to make.”

“I don’t think that.”

“Good. Because not only will you have to adjust to a way of life that’s foreign to you, but you’ll be doing so while living under Adam’s roof, and having him as your boss, as well. Are you sure you’ve given that sufficient thought?”

“I’ve given it some.”

“You and Adam don’t always see eye to eye, you know.”

“Even less so now.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile a little at Joe’s humor. It hurt to hear him joke about his lost sight, but at the same time, it felt good to hear him joke about it, too.

“Yes, even less so now,” Ben acknowledged. “Regardless of that, you and Adam can butt heads more than a couple of old rams fighting over the same mountain. Added to that, you haven’t had to live or work together for six years. Are you both prepared to be around one another as much as Adam’s proposing?”

“I think so. We’ve talked about it. We know it might not be easy at first.”

“All right,” Ben nodded. “It’s good that you two have discussed it. Obviously, none of us can predict how well this arrangement will or won’t work. All I ask, is that neither of you let any disagreements escalate to the point that they cause a permanent estrangement in your relationship.”

“We won’t.”

“And I want you to remember something else.”

“What?”

“That at any time, if you want to come back to the Ponderosa, you’re more than welcome to. As I told Adam when he left for sea, there will always be a place for you here, son. A permanent place, should you choose to return to it.” 

“Thanks, Pa. That means a lot.”

“Has Adam said when you boys are leaving?”

“Next Wednesday.”

Six days. Six days from now, Ben would be left with just one son by his side to run the Ponderosa. It wasn’t how he’d envisioned the future, but then, Joe hadn’t envisioned his future as a blind man, any more than Adam had envisioned a woman named Laura Dayton would prompt him to leave Nevada, and from there, experience a chain of events that would eventually have him running a school in Boston.

Ben fought to keep the sorrow from his voice. “Well, now, that’ll give us some time yet to get used to the idea of both you and Adam leaving.”

“Yeah, guess so. And, Pa?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell Hoss about this. I need to be the one who does that.”

“You do,” Ben agreed. “I won’t lie to you. Your leaving is going to be hard on him, Joe. Harder than it was when Adam left.”

“I know. I hate doing this to him. If I thought there was a better choice I’d make it in a heartbeat. I really would.”

“I understand that, son. Hoss will understand it, too.”

“I hope so.”

“He will.”

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. When Hop Sing began carrying food to the table, Joe stood.

“Guess I’d better wash up.”

“Looks like it.”

Joe laid a hand on his father’s shoulder as he brushed by the back of Ben’s chair. Ben reached up and clasped the hand, not wanting to ever let go. Joe seemed to understand that, because he stood there patiently while Ben gave his hand a long squeeze before finally releasing it. 

Ben watched Joe climb the stairs. When his son was no longer visible, Ben leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It was another hand on his shoulder that caused Ben to open his eyes and lift his head.

“I’m sorry, Pa. The last thing I want to do is take him away from you.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I can’t fault you for offering Joe the one thing he wants most right now.”

“What’s that?”

“A purpose.”

Like he’d done with Joe, Ben squeezed Adam’s hand. He released it when Hoss walked in the door, remembering to smile and not let on to his middle son that, in just six short days, their household would grow smaller, quieter, and lonelier, as they became a family of two.

Chapter 14

“You’re awful quiet today, little brother. Somethin’ wrong?”

“Uh. . .no. No. Not at all.”

“Now if I was a bettin’ man, I’d stake a ten spot that you’re fibbin’ me.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Hoss reached for Joe’s fishing pole and yanked his line from the creek. 

“ ‘Cause this is the second time you’ve cast your line in without baitin’ the hook.”

“Oh. Uh. . .guess I’m not paying attention to what I’m doin’.”

“Guess not. Unless you’re figurin’ on comin’ up with a new way of catchin’ fish that don’t involve worms.”

“Wasn’t figuring on it, no. But hey,” Joe shrugged, “if it works. . .”

“Take it from me, the fisherman in this family. It won’t.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” Hoss put the pole back in Joe’s hands, this time with a worm on the hook. “There ya’ go. Cast it again.”

Joe stood, drew the pole back over his left shoulder, and in a smooth motion flung it forward, casting his line into the wide creek. He sat down beside Hoss on the grassy rise along the banks of Walcott Creek, where they’d eaten lunch two hours earlier.

“Now maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“Doesn’t matter what kinda’ luck I have. You’ve already caught a dozen fish.”

“Well now, Joseph, that just there goes to show ya’.”

“Show me what?”

“That aside from bein’ a better cowpoke than you, and a better tracker than you, and a better blacksmith than you, and better at doctorin’ sick animals than you, I’m a better fisherman, too.”

“Seems that way.”

Joe jerked back when a big hand was laid on his forehead.

“What the heck are you doing?”

“Seein’ if you gotta fever.”

“What in tarnation for?”

“ ‘Cause it ain’t like my little brother to say nothin’ more than, “Seems that way,” when I tell him I’m better at stuff than he is.”

“Well enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I will,” Hoss muttered, while studying his sibling. Joe had been the one who’d suggested this Saturday afternoon fishing trip. When Hoss said something about Adam coming along too, Adam quickly – too quickly for Hoss’s taste – claimed he had other things to do. And Pa. . .well, he’d been a little too enthusiastic about letting Hoss take the day off during a time when they were still discovering damage from the storm scattered all over the Ponderosa.

“Okay, Joe, what’s goin’ on?”

“Whatta ya’ mean, what’s goin’ on?”

“I mean, you asked me to come fishin’ with ya’, but ya’ haven’t said more than three words since we left home. And Adam claimed to have things to do that kept him from comin’ with us, but I can’t figure out what exactly those things are. And 
Pa. . .”

“What about Pa?”

“We’ve still got lots of cleanup from that storm. It’s not like Pa to be so eager for me to take the afternoon off when there’s work to be done.”

“Maybe Pa’s gettin’ soft in his old age.”

“Maybe, but I don’t rightly think so.”

“Oh you don’t, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t. So, are ya’ gonna tell me what’s goin’ on, or am I gonna dump ya’ headfirst in this creek?”

Joe’s chest jutted out in challenge. “You ain’t big enough or tough enough to dump me headfirst anywhere.”

“You wanna rethink that statement, little brother?”

“Nope.”

“You’re sure ‘bout that now?”

“You bet I’m sure, ya’ big ox.”

Joe and Hoss hadn’t been brothers for almost three decades for Joe not to know what was coming next. Except without his sight, he wasn’t quite quick enough to thwart Hoss’s grab for him. What followed was the kind of free-for-all the brothers had engaged in since childhood, with Joe struggling for all he was worth to break free, and Hoss fighting to keep the sly little bugger in his grasp, while at the same time being careful not to hurt him.

Hoss wasn’t sure which one of them ended up in the creek first. All he knew was that someone’s foot hit the bait bucket and sent the worms flying, while someone else’s foot hit the empty lunch bucket and sent it flying, and then they were tumbling down the bank, rolling over and over with their hands locked onto each other’s shoulders and shouting like a couple of Paiutes on the warpath. 

They both yelled when they hit the cold water. What was refreshing on a hot summer’s day when they were boys, was just plain uncomfortable now. They splashed handfuls of water in each other’s faces for old time’s sake, then Hoss grasped Joe by the arm and pulled him to his feet. He looked around, spotting his hat and Joe’s bobbing a few feet away. He grabbed the hats with his free hand, tossing them onto the grass to dry. The brothers stumbled together to the bank, laughing, cussing, and dripping. Hoss guided Joe in scaling the incline, then collapsed beside him in the warm sun.

Joe pulled his shirttails from his pants so his shirt would dry completely. Hoss did the same. They removed their boots next, dumped the water out, then set the boots upright so the sun would shine into them. Hoss said, “Be right back,” and gingerly walked in his stocking feet, gathering the buckets they’d scattered, along with their fishing poles and hats. He put everything in a pile by the buckboard, figuring their fishing expedition was likely over for the day. The fish he’d caught had been spared during their playful brawl, and still swam safely in a big bucket a few yards away. Hoss was thankful for that. Those fish would taste doggone good come supper time, along with a pile of roasted potatoes, a thick slice of corn bread warm from the oven and slathered with butter, and topped off by a couple of pieces of that peach cobbler he’d seen Hop Sing making after breakfast.

“We still got the fish you caught?” Joe asked, as Hoss sat down beside him again.

“Sure do. Them’s the one thing we didn’t manage ta’ kick ta’ high heaven.”

“Good, ‘cause I sure was lookin’ forward to pan fried fish with roasted potatoes, along with some of that peach cobbler Hop Sing was making before we left.”

“Me too.” Hoss scrunched up his nose. “Hey, how’d you know Hop Sing was making peach cobbler?”

“Smelled the peaches as he was slicing them.”

“But how’d you know it wasn’t gonna be a peach pie?”

“Easy.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Adam likes peach cobbler better than he likes peach pie. And if you haven’t noticed, Hop Sing’s been making all of Adam’s favorites ever since Adam got here.”

“Guess he has, now that ya’ mention it. Never really noticed before.”

“That’s because any food is your favorite.”

“You wanna be thrown in this creek again, Joseph?”

“I don’t believe I was thrown. I believe I overpowered you, and we fell in together.”

“Overpowered me, huh?”

“Seems like it to me.”

“I’d argue that one, but my shirt’s just beginnin’ to dry. Don’t feel like startin’ the process all over again.”

“Me either.”

“This was a lot more fun when we were kids.”

“What? Taking a tumble into the creek, or sitting in the sun in wet clothes?”

“Both.”

“I agree. Which means, big brother, that we’re either gettin’ old, or we’re gettin’ smart.”

“My vote’s on smart.”

“Mine too.”

“Adam would probably say we’re gettin’old, and that we ain’t got the sense God gave us.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t ask Adam, now did we?”

Hoss chuckled at his brother’s sharp comment. It felt good to spend an afternoon alone with Joe. Since Adam’s arrival, Joe’s time had been taken up with all kinds of learnin’. Not that Hoss wasn’t grateful for what Adam had taught Joe about bein’ blind, because he was. And if Hoss was available, he was always included in anything Joe and Adam did outside those lessons – like a ride around the Ponderosa, or a fishing trip, or a game of horseshoes with Pa. But Hoss wouldn’t deny that he and Joe had always been close, and had grown even closer after Adam left for sea. They’d worked, lived, and played side by side for a lotta years now. Hoss hadn’t ever pictured it being any different, other than when the day came they each found themselves some pretty little filly to settle down with. But even then, though they’d have their own homes somewhere on the Ponderosa, they’d still work together every day, and likely as not, live close to each other, and their kids would grow up playin’ together, and goin’ to school together, and workin’ on the ranch together, and gathering at their grandpa’s house for dinner after church every Sunday – probably even be more like brothers and sisters than cousins. Or at least that’s what Hoss had always hoped would be the case. But now, with Joe’s loss of eyesight, Hoss’s assumptions of what the future held were altered, just like he knew Joe’s assumptions of the future had been altered. Exactly what the future would hold, Hoss wasn’t certain, though as much as it saddened him to acknowledge it, Hoss was certain about one thing. Quite likely the future didn’t hold Joe ever working beside him again.

If only I hadn’t gone in to get Charlie. Maybe I’d have seen that dadburn cat. Maybe I’d have been able to shoo it outta there, or maybe I’d have been able to catch that bottle ‘fore it hit the ground, or maybe. . .

Hoss shook off those thoughts. They’d haunted him every day since the accident. Pa would tell him it was time to put them to rest for good. That he couldn’t have done anything to prevent what happened, and if he had been in the shed with Joe, he might have lost his eyesight too, or been crippled up real bad, or even be dead right now.

It was as he was lost in his own silence, that Hoss realized Joe had fallen silent again. Hoss let the silence linger, wanting to see how long it would stretch before Joe finally broke it. But just like prior to their few minutes of horseplay, Joe didn’t seem inclined to speak, or share whatever was bothering him.

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t ya’ just come right out and tell me what’s keepin’ ya’ quieter than a mouse that’s been spotted by a rattler?”

“A mouse that’s been spotted by a rattler, huh? How quiet is that?”

“Pretty dadgum quiet, that’s how quiet. Now come on, just tell me whatever it is you brought me on this fishin’ trip ta’ tell me to begin with.”

“Who said I brought you fishing to tell you anything?”

“No one. But between the way Pa and Adam were actin’ before we left, and the way you’ve been actin’ the whole day, I don’t have to be the smartest guy in Nevada to know somethin’s goin’ on.”

“Good. ‘Cause you aren’t the smartest guy in Nevada.”

“No?”

“Nope. I am.”

Hoss shook his head while Joe laughed. 

“You’re just itchin’ for another dump in this creek, ain’t ya,’ Mr. Wiseguy?”

“Not really. My under drawers are just startin’ to dry.”

“All the more reason for ya’ to quit joshin,’ and tell me what’s goin’ on.”

There was a moment of hesitation on Joe’s part, then a slight nod. “You’re right.”

“So what is it?”

“Well. . .uh. . .Adam’s headed back to Boston come Wednesday.”

“Oh.” While it wasn’t easy for Hoss to think of Adam leaving, he’d known all along that his older brother would eventually have to return to Boston, and the obligations waiting for him at the blind school. “Sure wish he could stay longer.”

“Uh. . .yeah. Me too.”

“But I figured he was ‘bout done here. He’s taught ya’ an awful lot. Didn’t think there was much left for ya’ to learn.”

Joe chuckled. “Well, I’m sure there are a few things. Or at least Adam would probably say so.”

“When it comes to learnin,’ Adam is always one to say a man could do more.”

“That’s true.”

“So I expect Pa’s takin’ Adam’s leavin’ kinda hard, huh?”

“I suppose so. But I’m sure he’s been aware all along that Adam didn’t come home to stay.”

“Guess you’re right about that.” Hoss thought a moment. “Maybe we can have a big send-off for Adam on Tuesday night.”

“A big send-off?”

“Yeah. We’ll gather the hands, and roast a steer. Hop Sing can get some of his cousins to come out from Virginia City to help him with the extra cookin’, and we can–”

“Sounds nice,” Joe agreed. “But. . .uh. . .Hoss, there’s something else I need to tell you about Adam going back to Boston.”

“What’s that?”

“That um. . .that I. . .that I’m going with him.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m going with him.”

“Oh. Well now, don’t guess that’s such a bad idea.”

“You don’t?”

“No. You’ll probably like payin’ Boston a visit for a few weeks. Be good for ya’,” Hoss said, while thinking an extended visit East would be good for Joe. It would give him something new to occupy his time with, before returning to the Ponderosa and doing. . .well, Hoss wasn’t sure what, but he figured Pa was probably thinking that over right now, and coming up with things Joe could do that would make him feel useful.

“Uh. . .yeah, it probably will be good for me. Or at least I hope so, because I’m not. . .”

“You’re not what?” Hoss asked, when Joe let his sentence trail off unfinished.

“I. . .Hoss, I’m not going there to visit. I. . .I’m going there to live.”

“To live?”

“Yeah.”

“But. . .but why, Joe? How come? Why do ya’ wanna do somethin’ like that? How come ya’–”

“How come I can’t stay here?”

“Yeah. How come ya’ can’t stay here? On the Ponderosa with me and Pa?”

“Because I have no purpose here. Because there’s nothing I can do here without my sight.”

“Sure there is.”

“What?”

“Uh. . .well. . .um. . .”

Joe smiled. “You’re just like Pa. You can’t think of anything either.”

“But. . .but. . .but what are ya’ gonna do in Boston?”

“Teach.”

“Teach?”

“At Adam’s school.”

“Oh. . . I see,” Hoss said quietly. And he did. He didn’t need all the details to know that Joe now possessed skills he could teach to others who’d lost their sight. And he didn’t need all the details to know that Adam had offered Joe, what Joe had desperately wanted ever since going blind – a way to be useful.

“And. . .um. . .you’re gonna leave on Wednesday with Adam?”

“I am.”

Hoss brushed at the sudden moisture that filled his eyes. “Guess. . .” he cleared his throat. “Guess that party I was talkin’ about havin’ for Adam is gonna be for the both of ya’s.”

“Guess so.”

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“I. . .I know I probably shouldn’t say this, but I don’t want ya’ to go. I can’t lie to ya,’ little brother. I don’t want ya’ to go.”

“I know you don’t want me to go. And in a lot of ways, I don’t wanna go either. But it’s my only chance to make a living. If I can do that, while passing the skills Adam’s taught me on to someone else, then all the better. At least I’ll feel like I’m paying him back for the time he’s put into teaching me. I hope you understand that.”

Hoss squeezed his eyes shut so his tears wouldn’t fall. “I do, Joe. Honest I do.”

“Good.” Joe jostled Hoss’s arm with an elbow. “And now I’m gonna make you a promise.”

Joe’s face swam in and out of focus. “What promise?”

“That if my sight ever does return, I’ll be right back here on the Ponderosa before you can say, ‘Joe, dadburn yer ornery hide! I’m gonna get you for that.’ ”

Hoss couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll hold ya’ to it.”

“You can.”

Hoss’s smile faded as quickly as it had come. “Joe. . .Joe, I’m really gonna miss ya’.”

“I know,” Joe acknowledge softly. “I’m really gonna miss you too.”

The brothers sat together on the banks of Walcott Creek until late that afternoon, talking about everything from boyhood exploits, to pranks they’d pulled on Adam over the years, to the times they’d tried their father’s patience just for the fun of it, to places they’d traveled together, and things they’d seen and done. The only subject they didn’t discuss was the one most on their minds – Joe’s upcoming move to Boston. 

When Hoss finally stood, signaling it was time to head home, their clothes and boots were dry. They pulled their boots on, retrieved their hats, then loaded the buckboard with their gear and Hoss’s bucket of fish.

After they arrived at the ranch, Hoss told Joe he didn’t need any help unhitching the horses or unloading the wagon bed. Joe didn’t try to force his help on his brother, seeming to sense Hoss’s need for some time alone.

Hoss watched until Joe made it safely into the house, then began doing his chores. He swallowed hard and blinked furiously, trying not to think about how much he’d miss his younger brother, and how lonely it would be around the Ponderosa after Joe was gone.

Chapter 15

Joe stared out the window with a blank gaze, only able to imagine what the passing scenery looked like. Adam described things to him from time to time, like the breath-taking view when the train traveled over a trestle bridge high above a rushing river in the Rocky Mountains. Or the burnt reds, dark browns, burnished oranges, and soft yellows of the canyons in Utah territory. Or the way the plains of Nebraska seemed to stretch on and on, like one massive wheat-colored ocean. Still, it wasn’t the same as being able to see those things for yourself. 

Joe truly felt like a blind man now that he was traveling away from everything familiar to him. No longer could he picture the face of someone speaking to him, unless that person was Adam. No longer could he picture the lay of the land. No longer could he picture what the town looked like each time the train stopped at a place he’d never been before. He wouldn’t say it to Adam, but this frightened him, and whenever they got off the train to have a meal, or stretch their legs, Joe kept a firm grip on his brother’s arm. Getting separated from Adam now held prospects far different from getting separated from him in Virginia City, where so many people knew Joe, and someone he trusted would have quickly offered him help. 

As they left the West farther and farther behind, Joe grew increasingly disoriented. The sounds, smells, and accents were different from what he was used to. By the time they’d changed trains in Omaha, and then traveled through Iowa and on into Illinois, where they had an evening layover in Chicago, Joe wasn’t as confident about this move to Boston as he had been just a week earlier. Suddenly, making a living independent of his father’s goodwill didn’t seem nearly as appealing as returning to all that he’d known since childhood. Adam must have sensed some of what Joe was feeling, because as the train chugged past Indiana cornfields Joe longed to be able to see just so he could write Hoss and tell him what a field rich with rows and rows of bright green corn stalks looked like, Adam said, “It’s not easy making a new start, is it?”

Joe turned toward the sound of his brother’s voice. He hesitated a few seconds before admitting, “It’s a little harder than I thought it would be. But I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will. Once you get settled and some time passes, Boston will start to feel like home.”

Joe wasn’t certain about that, but he didn’t say so to Adam. He thought back five days to when they’d left Virginia City on a stagecoach bound for Reno, where the first leg of their journey on the Transcontinental Railroad began. So many emotions had assaulted Joe as they headed for Virginia City in a buggy driven by Hoss, that he’d even forgotten to worry that someone he knew might see him. It was his first trip to Virginia City since he’d lost his sight. All too quickly, it became his last trip there, as the stage arrived and Hoss began helping the driver secure Adam’s suitcases, and then Joe’s trunk, to the top.

With a mixture of excitement and trepidation, Joe waited to board the stage. If anyone he knew passed him and said hello, Joe didn’t hear the person. He was focused solely on how difficult it would be to say goodbye to Pa and Hoss. Soon, he had no choice but to do just that. Hoss finished with their luggage and stepped forward to tell Adam goodbye. Joe heard a good deal of backslapping going on, along with promises of letters being written more frequently on Adam’s part than they had in recent years, and a promise given by Hoss that he’d come to Boston for a visit with Pa after the cattle drive.

Adam’s goodbye with Pa wasn’t nearly as noisy as his goodbye with Hoss, leaving Joe guessing what their parting entailed. After Adam stepped aside, it was Joe’s turn to say goodbye to his family. As with Adam, Joe’s goodbye with Hoss involved backslapping and promises of being reunited in Boston come fall. Whatever else they might have wanted to say to one another had already been said at Walcott Creek on Saturday. Joe knew Hoss didn’t want him to go, and Hoss knew Joe wouldn’t be going if he still had his eyesight. There was no need to say those things again. It would just make the leaving all that much harder on both of them.

Joe stepped out of Hoss’s embrace, and into Pa’s. His father didn’t say anything for the longest time, then finally whispered in a choked voice, “Take care of yourself, Joseph.”

“I will.”

“Remember what I said about the Ponderosa always being your home.”

“I will,” Joe promised again.

As Joe stood clutched in his father’s arms, it seemed as though the man couldn’t bear to let him go. Because of that, Joe knew he was the one who had to be strong for Pa, rather than the other way around.

“Guess I’d better get on the stage.” Joe did something then that he hadn’t done since he was a boy. He kissed his father’s cheek, tasting the salt of the man’s tears. “I love you, Pa.”

His father could barely speak when he said in return, “I love you too, son.”

“Take care of Hoss for me.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let him enter any flapjack eating contests without me here to be his manager.”

That got a chuckle out of Pa. “I won’t.”

“And don’t let him go off on his own, searching for any little green men, or give his money to the next inventor who comes along promising he can make Hoss fly. And whatever you do, don’t let him buy any Gerby Royals. You know how skittish he is about skinnin’ rabbits when it comes time.”

“No, I won’t let him do any of those things, either.”

The stage driver called for all passengers to board. The man’s directive made it easier for Joe to move from his father’s embrace and say a final goodbye.

“I’ll see you in the fall,” Joe said.

“Yes,” Pa promised. “Hoss and I’ll see you then.”

“In the meantime, write me every so often and let me know what’s goin’ on around here. Just don’t include anything you don’t want Adam reading to me.”

Pa chuckled again. “I don’t think we have to worry about that.” Joe could hear his father’s tone change as the sadness crept back in. “Goodbye, Joe.”

Joe held out a hand, and for just a moment was connected to his father again. He squeezed Pa’s hand, said, “Bye, Pa,” turned toward where he thought Hoss was standing and said, “Bye, Hoss,” then boarded the stage with Adam’s help, not waiting to hear the goodbyes in return.

Or maybe not wanting to hear them is a better way of putting it, Joe thought now, as every mile the train traveled brought him closer to Boston, and farther from the Ponderosa.

“Adam?”

“Hmmm?”

Without having to be told, Joe knew that when he’d fallen silent, Adam had returned to reading the book he’d brought from their sleeping car a little while ago.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Given the noise of the wheels clacking against the tracks, there was no concern about being overheard by any of their fellow passengers sitting nearby.

“How come you never came back home for a visit after you left for sea?”

“Isn’t not exactly easy to visit when a man’s at sea, Joe.”

“I know that. But I mean afterwards. Once you’d settled in Boston for good. After your grandfather died.”

A long enough silence lingered that once again Joe got the impression some kind of painful memory was tied to Abel Stoddard’s death. But before he could decide whether he should inquire further about the old man’s passing, Adam spoke.

“Because of Laura Dayton, I never had a strong desire to return.” Joe could tell Adam was smiling just a little bit when he added, “I suppose you could say that I don’t take well to not getting the desires of my heart.”

Only Adam would use such flowery language to describe a broken engagement. 

“Evidently not,” was all Joe said in regard to his brother’s six-year absence, and the role Laura Dayton played in that. 

“And then there’s my arm. Or lack of it, I should say. I already told you that I didn’t want you and Hoss to know about it.”

Joe nodded.

“Aside from that, what good was a one-armed cowboy going to be to Pa?”

“About as much good as a blind cowboy, I’d guess.”

“Joe. . .Joe, I didn’t mean it that way. I was talking about myself, not you.”

Joe smiled his understanding. “I know. But still, it’s true. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be on this train with you.”

“And if I haven’t told you that I’m glad you’re on this train with me, then it’s past time I do.”

Joe chuckled. “Keep that in mind after a couple of weeks have passed, and you’re ready to kick me outta your house.”

“I’ll do that,” Adam droned with that dry wit he possessed.

Joe listened to the rhythmic “clack clack clack” of the wheels for a few seconds, then said, “You mentioned a housekeeper?”

“Mrs. O’Connell?”

“Yeah. Will she mind me being there?”

“Why should she mind?”

Joe shrugged. “I don’t know. Because now she’ll have twice as much work to do.”

“First of all, she’s hired to do the work. Second of all, I give her a handsome raise each Christmas, along with a generous bonus. And third, you’ll be doing me a favor by being there.”

“How?”

“Because now she’ll have someone else to mother besides me.”

Joe chuckled again. “At least it sounds better than being mothered by Hop Sing.”

“Hop Sing doesn’t mother. Or at least not very well.”

“That’s what I mean. Might be nice to be mothered for a change.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Joseph.”

“If you say so. Do you have any other hired help?”

“Just a gardener who attends to my lawn and flowerbeds.”

“What about at school?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“I thought you had a secretary.” 

“I told you weeks ago that I don’t.”

“I know. I mean before you told me; that’s what I thought. That’s why I quit writing you.”

“Pardon?”

“I thought you were dictating your letters to someone, because the handwriting on the envelopes addressed to Pa had changed. I just. . .I just want you to know why I quit writing.”

“Because you thought I was dictating my personal correspondence to someone?”

Joe nodded. “Seemed kind of. . .I don’t know. . .”

“Impersonal?” Adam chuckled.

“Yeah. Impersonal. I didn’t wanna put the time and effort into writing you, if some stranger was writing me back. If I’d have known about your arm. . .”

“I made a mistake in not telling you and Hoss.”

“You had the right to keep it private.”

“Not from my brothers.”

Had this conversation taken place before Joe lost his sight, he might have agreed with Adam. But recently, he’d learned a lot about what pride could drive a man to do, and what it could drive him to avoid doing, as well.

“You know, it’s kind of funny when you think about it.”

“What’s kind of funny?” Adam asked.

“I was mad because I thought you were dictating your letters to someone, and now when I wanna write to Pa or Hoss, I’ll have to dictate my letters to someone. Guess that just goes to show that there is justice in this world every so often.”

“I don’t think you deserve to be blind just because you thought I was dictating my letters.”

Joe turned toward the window again, muttering so softly that Adam couldn’t hear him. “Seems as though someone does.”

Joe only half heard Adam say that he should have taught Pa and Hoss to read and write Braille, so Joe could correspond with them privately. Joe mumbled something about Adam not having time to do that. He also wanted to assure Adam it wasn’t anything to fret over, and that it wouldn’t bother him to dictate letters to Adam meant for Pa or Hoss. But suddenly, he couldn’t speak, because he was doubled over with a headache that had come upon him with the kind of swiftness and severity he hadn’t experienced since the first few weeks after losing his sight. An arm grasped Joe’s waist, keeping him from falling to the floor.

“Joe! Joe, what’s wrong?”

Joe clutched his head, grimacing. “Head. . .headache.”

“Porter! Porter, is there a doctor anywhere on this train?”

“No!” Joe grabbed a fistful of Adam’s shirt with a trembling hand. “No. . .no 
jus–just help me to our car. I’ll be. . .be okay if I can lay down awhile.”

“You’re sure?”

Joe fought the nausea the side to side swaying of the train only made worse. He gave a slight nod, too sick to speak unless he had to. 

“Joe. . .?”

“I’m sure,” Joe mumbled between clenched teeth. He slowly sat upright, hoping he wasn’t being stared at by every passenger in the car, while knowing that he probably was. “Just get me somewhere that I can lay down.”

“All right.”

Joe stood when his brother urged him to his feet. It felt like someone was trying to pound his way out of Joe’s head with a sledgehammer, and all he could hear was an odd swooshing sound, like blood rushing between his ears.

Joe was barely aware of someone hurrying to help Adam. Another arm snaked around his waist, and when he was finally lowered to his bunk in their private sleeping car – one of only three private cars the train contained – he heard the voice of their Negro porter, Isaiah.

“I see if there be a doctor on board, Mr. Cartwright.” 

“No. . .” Joe ordered with as much strength as he could muster, even though he suspected Adam was the “Mr. Cartwright” Isaiah was speaking to. “No. Be. . .I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure, Joe?”

“I’m sure.”

Joe heard Adam’s frustrated sigh of indecision, then heard him asking the porter to bring a cloth and some ice.

The next thing Joe was aware of was the smell of a freshly laundered linen cloth as it passed over his nose, and then the immense relief brought by the ice wrapped within that cloth being pressed against his forehead. Adam had removed his boots and covered him with a blanket, though Joe had no memory of those actions taking place. Either he’d lapsed into unconsciousness briefly, or had been unaware due to the pain lancing through his skull and throbbing behind his eyes. 

It took thirty minutes for the pain to begin to recede. Within an hour, it was almost gone completely, just like Joe could have predicted. He fell asleep shortly after that, and woke up three hours later, hungrier than Hoss had ever thought of being. Adam insisted Isaiah bring a supper cart to their car, even though Joe told his brother that wasn’t necessary, and that he could make the trip to the dining car. 

“No, we’ll eat in here tonight,” Adam said, and Joe decided after the scare he’d given his brother, he wouldn’t cause Adam more grief by arguing with him. Besides, from what Joe could tell, their sleeping car was luxurious, thanks to Pa’s generosity. Therefore, Adam probably didn’t mind remaining in here. It would allow him to read without interruptions. As far as Joe was concerned, it didn’t make much difference where he ate supper, considering everything looked the same to him these days.

After the brothers had eaten, and Isaiah had been given a handsome tip for all of his help, Adam settled into an easy chair with a paper he’d purchased from one of the butcher boys that morning. The teenage boys boarded the trains at various stops, walking the aisles carrying baskets filled with candy, gum, cigars, newspapers, magazines, dime novels, toys, bakery goods, and just about anything else they could think of that a train’s passengers might buy. Adam asked Joe if he’d like him to read the newspaper out loud, but Joe said no.

“I’m tired.” Joe stood, feeling his way to the lower bunk. “Think I’ll call it a night.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t try and hunt up a doctor to take a look at you?”

“I’m fine, Adam. And if you ask me if I’m sure about that fact one more time, I swear I’ll throw you off this train.”

“That doesn’t sound like an idle threat.”

“It’s not. So don’t push your luck.”

“Okay. But if you have another headache while we’re traveling. . .”

“You can hunt up as many doctors as you want to,” Joe conceded, if only to ease the worry in his brother’s voice.

“I’ll do just that.”

“As long as you pay for his visit, you can do whatever you want to.”

“Somehow I knew I’d end up getting the short end of this deal.”

“Which is why you should never insist I do anything I don’t want to.”

“I shouldn’t have forgotten that particular personality trait of yours.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Joe agreed with a laugh.

Adam’s newspaper soon held his attention. After Joe had stripped off his shirt and socks, he slipped onto his bunk, being careful not to whack his head against the frame of the bunk built above it, that was Adam’s. 

As he waited for sleep to claim him, Joe tried to estimate how many miles they’d now traveled from the Ponderosa, while at the same time, silently berating himself for being homesick like some eight-year-old kid who’d never been away from his pa.

Chapter 16

“I’ll hire a carriage and see to our luggage. You wait here.” Joe’s hand was removed from Adam’s arm and placed on the back of a bench. “I won’t be gone long.”

“But –”

“Just wait here, Joe. Use this bench as an anchor, like I taught you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Sure. . .uh, sure. . .okay. But, uh, why don’t I just come with you.” 

When no one answered him, Joe questioned, “Adam?” He fought to keep the panic from his voice when he called again, “Adam? Adam!”

When his brother still didn’t answer, Joe knew Adam hadn’t heard him as he rushed off through the crowd. 

Joe already disliked the hustle and bustle of Boston, and he’d only been here fifteen minutes. As he gripped the back of the bench to keep his hand from being jostled free by the people brushing past him, Joe decided the city’s entire population of 400 thousand must be present at the train station this afternoon. He’d thought Virginia City had gotten large in recent years, when her population grew to 30 thousand. But by the noise swelling around him and the heavy footsteps vibrating the wooden platform, Joe could tell Virginia City’s residents were no match for the nearly half a million people who inhabited Boston. 

Though he was curious as to why everyone seemed to be in such a hurry, Joe stayed put. Despite his uneasiness at being on his own in a strange city, Joe had no concerns that Adam wouldn’t return for him shortly, just as Adam said he would. 

Just remember what Adam taught you. If you have to wait in a large crowd, hang onto a landmark you and your guide have agreed upon ahead of time, then don’t move from that spot until your guide comes for you.

So, Joe did as his brother instructed. Not because he’d suddenly turned into such an obedient student, but because he had no desire to be lost in Boston.

~ ~ ~

“Hey, Paddy, see that guy there?”

“What guy?” 

Patrick MacMurray stood on the toes of his worn shoes, straining to see over the crowd. He and his buddy, Rooney Sullivan, hung around the train station several times a week, hustling departing passengers for a few bits to carry luggage, hire a carriage, or give them directions to various places in and around the city. If the day was slow as far as business went, Rooney would pick pockets or grab a lady’s handbag. Patrick had never directly participated in this particular trade, though he always acted as Rooney’s lookout. For his sharp eyes, Patrick earned half of whatever was in the wallet or handbag Rooney snatched. Patrick knew Father O’Brien wouldn’t be approving of a fourteen-year-old boy making money in this fashion, and saints knew Patrick’s mam wouldn’t approve of it at all. Man of the family or not, he’d feel the razor strap more times than he cared to think about if she ever discovered how he came by some of the money he turned over to her at the end of each week. But his father had been dead for two years now, and there were six children younger than Patrick who needed to be fed and clothed. Mam’s salary as a cook for that rich old Mr. Hirsh didn’t make ends meet. Not even when she worked extra hours cooking up all kinds of fancy things for a party, or a holiday dinner. 

“The one dressed like a cowboy, standin’ by that bench.”

“Yeah, I see him.”

“Come on.”

“Why?”

“We’re gonna play a game with him.”

“Game?”

Rooney laughed, his face crinkling in a way that made his freckles seem to dance. 

“Yeah, blind man’s bluff, as ya’ might call it, while I pick his pocket.”

Patrick stared at the cowboy a moment. By the uncertainty on the man’s face, and the way he stood frozen in place with his eyes skimming the area but not actually landing on anything, Patrick realized what Rooney had already figured out: That the man couldn’t see. 

Patrick shook his head. 

“Rooney, I don’t think we should. Let’s see what we can hustle up at the other end a’ the platform.”

“No need ta’ walk all the way down there, mate, when we already got us money to be made right here.” Rooney shagged Patrick by his shirt. “Come on. This’ll be easy as takin’ candy from a baby.”

Patrick hesitated, chewing on his lower lip with indecision. He wondered how many years he’d have to spend in purgatory for stealing from a blind man. 

“Paddy, come on,” Rooney hissed, tugging on Patrick’s shirt again. “This is a rich one.”

“How can ya’ tell?”

“ ‘Cause I got me a nose for the ones with money. Bet his wallet’s full. Think of how much easier things’ll be on both of us next week if we can split ten. . .maybe even twenty dollars ‘tween us.”

Twenty dollars!

Patrick couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to touch twenty dollars, let alone bring that kind of money home to his mam. Money like that would get them through another month, and well into the next one. 

The boy followed his friend on nothing but a promise of the cash they’d acquire by picking the blind man’s pocket. As they silently approached their target, a stab of guilt, along with the thought of the razor strap being whipped across his bum, caused Patrick to hope he’d soon get steady work at the docks, and could then give up hustling with Rooney for good.

~ ~ ~

It happened so quickly, that Joe didn’t know what was going on until he was traveling away from the bench. Someone had come up to him and put a hand on his back. He’d assumed the person was Adam, and had walked along beside him without question. It wasn’t until “Adam” didn’t respond when Joe had asked twice, “Did you get a carriage?” that Joe realized something was amiss.

“Adam? Adam, I asked if you got a carriage. Adam?”

Suddenly, another hand grasped Joe, and he was forced to run between two people. He still had no idea what was going on, and for a few brief seconds, wondered if there was a fire, or some other danger that Adam and someone else was hurrying him away from. But then he heard laughter as a hand slipped into the left pocket of his green jacket. Joe whirled, making a grab for the owner of that hand. He wasn’t quick enough to catch the kid, and by the laughter he knew it was a kid who’d just picked his pocket. Another voice joined the laughter, this one tinged with urgency and fear –“Come on! Let’s go!” – then footsteps running away from him.

If he’d been able to see, Joe would have chased the little rascals down, and then taught them a lesson about stealing they’d never forget. But Joe couldn’t see, and right now the least of his worries was his stolen wallet. He didn’t know how far he’d traveled with the boys, or where the bench was he’d been told to remain by, or if Adam would be able to find him.

People jostled Joe as they hurried past him. Four different times he tried to get assistance from some of those people, but never got beyond, “Excuse me, can you. . .” before the person moved on without paying him any mind.

Joe squelched his fear, knowing it would only make his situation worse. But no matter how hard he tried to remember the things his brother had taught him about navigating in an unfamiliar area, panic caused Joe to revert to ineffective methods. He stumbled, tripped, and helplessly waved his arms in front of him, as he traveled farther and farther away from the bench where he was supposed to be waiting for Adam.

Chapter 17

Laddie’s body swayed back and forth slightly as the carriage came to a halt. She smiled, thinking of how surprised and pleased Adam would be when he saw her father’s coach waiting for him and his brother. 

Hopefully, he’ll be even more surprised and pleased to see me. 

Laddie silently chuckled at what her father would say to that thought – that any man who knew what was good for him had better be surprised and pleased to see Edward Brockington’s youngest daughter.

The woman leaned forward, placing a hand on her driver’s shoulder.

“Do you see him anywhere, Elliot?”

The driver turned his head to the side so his voice traveled back to his passenger.

“No, Miss Laddie. But there’s a large crowd moving about. When it thins a bit, I’ll surely spot him.”

“Unless he’s trying to hire a carriage. Perhaps you should go look for him.”

“Now, Missy, you know your father wouldn’t approve of me leaving you alone.”

“Elliot. . .”

“Don’t use that tone of voice with me, young woman. I’ve been driving for your father since before you were born. If you think–” 

“…for one minute that I’m taking orders from you, that override Mr. Brockington’s orders,” Laddie said with a laughing lilt to her voice, “then you’d better think again.” Now, Laddie did laugh. “Really, Elliot, I’ve heard that so many times I can recite it in my sleep.”

“Then I’d advise you to quit asking me to do things that you know will get us both into trouble with your father.”

Laddie gave the man’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “I keep hoping you’ll surprise me someday.”

“Ah, fair lass, that will be the day I plan on giving your papa my notice of retirement. But until then, I’ll continue doing as he instructs me to.”

“You’re that frightened of my father?”

“No, Miss Laddie, it’s not your father I’m frightened of. It’s my dear wife I’m frightened of, whenever I think of arriving home without any money to place in her outstretched hand. And believe me, it’s always outstretched.” 

Laddie laughed again. For as long as she could remember, Elliot had made jokes about his wife. Laddie didn’t know Mrs. York well. She only encountered the woman each year at the Christmas party her father hosted for his employees and their families. But Mrs. York had always seemed to be a soft-spoken woman, and not nearly as bossy and demanding as Elliot enjoyed leading a person to assume.

“Perhaps if you’ll do me just this one favor by going to look for Adam, I’ll forget to mention our conversation to Mrs. York at this year’s Christmas party.”

“Blackmail doesn’t become you, Miss Laddie, nor will it work. We’ll just wait here a while longer yet and. . .”

By the way Elliot’s sentence trailed off unfinished, Laddie could tell something had caught his attention.

“Elliot? What is it? Do you see Adam?”

“No. No, I don’t. But there’s a man. . .looks to be a blind man. . .who’s having a difficult time getting around.”

“Difficult time? Why? What’s wrong?”

“He appears to be lost.”

Laddie sat forward and craned her neck out the side of the carriage as though she could see the man, too. 

“What’s he look like?”

“A dapper fellow, he is. Though dressed a bit. . .odd.”

“Odd?”

“Rather like a cowboy.”

“A cowboy?”

“He’s wearing a cowboy hat and boots, a green jacket, a tan shirt that appears to be made for hard work, and gray dungarees. Poor fellow. He’s really beginning to panic.”

Laddie climbed from the carriage, urging her driver to come with her. “Take me to him, please.”

“Miss Laddie, I don’t think your father would approve of me allowing you to approach a stranger and–”

“Elliot, from what you’ve said, the man needs help. Besides, I don’t think he’s a stranger.”

“Miss?”

“I suspect he’s Adam’s brother.”

“Then where is Mr. Cartwright?” Elliot placed Laddie’s hand in the crook of his left elbow and headed toward the blind man stumbling through the crowd. 

“That’s what I intend to find out,” Laddie said, her tone indicating she wasn’t pleased with Adam.

Though Laddie was the one using him as a guide, Elliot almost had to run to keep up with her. 

“He may not be Mr. Cartwright’s brother at all, Miss.”

“It doesn’t matter whether he is or not. Either way, from what you’ve described to me, he needs assistance. Now come on, let’s go offer it to him.”

Elliot York had no choice but to hurry along beside the young woman. If he got in trouble for this from Mr. Brockington, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell his employer that Laddie inherited her stubbornness and determination from her father. 

Maybe it is time for me to retire, Elliot thought with a hint of amusement, as once again, one of Edward Brockington’s daughters talked him into going against instructions. 

Chapter 18

“Sir. Sir, excuse me. May we be of assistance? Sir!”

Joe was so disoriented, that he wasn’t aware of the man trying to gain his attention.

“Sir! Excuse me, Sir! Do you need help?”

It wasn’t until he felt a touch on his shoulder that Joe swung around, startled and frightened. While a part of him was relieved that someone was finally offering him assistance, Joe also hated himself for feeling so helpless and vulnerable. Yet, didn’t he have a right to feel that way? He was lost in a strange city, and the last time he thought someone was “helping” him, he’d ended up with a stolen wallet, and a fast trip away from the bench where he was supposed to wait for Adam.

“Sir? May we help you?”

“Uh. . .” Joe took three wary steps backwards to force the man’s hand to drop from his shoulder. “Um. . .I. . .I need to find my brother. I’m looking for my brother.”

“Perhaps we can be of assistance, then.”

Joe didn’t know who “we” was. So far, all he’d heard was one man’s voice. Without his eyesight, he wasn’t able to make the assessment vision gives a person when it comes to deciding if you’re comfortable with a stranger, or if that stranger might represent a threat of some sort. Because of that, Joe decided it was best to be upfront and make this person, or persons, aware that he had no money to offer. If nothing else, he might save himself from a beating, if mugging was the only form of “help” they planned to give.

“I can’t pay you. Some boys just stole my wallet.”

“Who said anything about payment?”

Joe turned toward the sound of a woman’s voice. It was gentle, and held just the correct amount of forthrightness to ease at least some of his fears. Some, but not all. He’d met enough female con artists in his day to know the presence of the fairer sex wasn’t always a guarantee of safety.

“My brother though, he’ll have money,” Joe added hastily, in order to let these people know they’d be paid to assist him if money was what they were after. “He went to hire a carriage and get our luggage.”

“Again, who said anything about payment? My driver and I only want to help you get back where you belong. We’re not seeking a reward.” 

Joe remained cautious, not willing to be led any farther away from the bench than he already had been until he felt he could trust these people. By the loud, screeching toot of the train whistle, he knew he was still at the station. If he blindly followed this pair, as the expression so appropriately went, he could be led into even more trouble than he already had.

The woman must have sensed his fear, or maybe it plainly showed on his face, because when he didn’t immediately accept the offer of help, she asked, “You wouldn’t have happened to traveled here from Nevada, would you? From a place called Virginia City?” 

Joe’s sense of mistrust was heightened once again. How did she know where he was from? 

While Joe was still casting about for an answer that sounded more elusive and clever than, “I might be,” the woman laughed softly and teased, “Forgive me, but you’re dressed like you’ve just stepped off the range, if I’m wording that correctly. I have a. . . friend, who’s from Virginia City. My driver and I came here to pick him up. He was traveling with his brother. Adam Cartwright. Do you know him?”

Relief washed over Joe. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Adam’s my brother.”

The woman’s hand came to rest on Joe’s right forearm, then slid down. She seemed to flounder for a moment as she tried to get her hand in the correct position to shake with him. 

“You must be Joe. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Laddie Brockington. I work for Adam at the institute.”

Joe gently shook the woman’s hand while tipping his hat with his free hand. 

“Ma’am. Nice to meet you, too. More than you’ll ever know right about now.”

The woman laughed again. “Oh, I think I know exactly how you’re feeling.” She placed Joe’s hand in a much larger one. “And this is my driver, Elliot York. Or better put, my father’s driver, and my babysitter.”

Joe was puzzled by her comment, but didn’t question it. He shook hands with the man.

“Mr. York. I’m Joe Cartwright.”

“Hello, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Call me Joe.”

“Mr. Brockington wouldn’t approve of that, Sir.”

“Why?”

“It wouldn’t be deemed proper.”

“Well, as my brother’ll be the first to tell you, I don’t worry too much about what’s proper and what’s not. Like I said, call me Joe. Besides, what do you call my brother?”

“Mr. Cartwright.”

“Figures. He always has been the proper one in the family. So see, if you call him Mr. Cartwright, and me Mr. Cartwright, it’ll only confuse everyone. Joe’s fine.”

“If you say so, but Mr. Brockington–” 

“Since I’m not gonna be living with Mr. Brockington, I don’t see why I have to abide by his rules.”

“I like your style, Joe Cartwright,” Laddie said with a smile in her voice. “I look forward to you and my father meeting. You’ll be a formidable opponent for him, to be certain. My sisters and I, and I dare say my mother as well, will appreciate the entertainment.”

Joe wasn’t sure why this woman, who was Adam’s employee, thought he’d have reason to become acquainted with her father. But on the other hand, since she was here to meet Adam, that likely meant the two of them shared feelings that went a lot deeper than that of employer and employee. Although Adam hadn’t mentioned the woman to Joe, she’d been mentioned in Adam’s letters to Pa on several occasions, so between that, and her presence now, it didn’t take Joe long to figure out there was probably something serious between them. Like what he’d had with Sally Morris until. . .well, it was best not to think about that now. This was a fresh start, and last he’d heard, Carl Jeffers was courting Sally. No doubt they’d probably be married by the time Joe returned to the Ponderosa for a visit.

“Come along.” Laddie hooked her arm through Joe’s in a gesture that he knew would have been considered outrageously bold for a single female of her social position, but was acceptable given she was assisting a blind man. “We’ll return to the carriage and Elliot will look for Adam. Then we’ll find a police officer and report your wallet stolen.”

Joe wasn’t aware that Elliot didn’t immediately leave in search of Adam. Nor did he realize that the man was walking a few steps ahead of them, leading them to the carriage with Laddie’s free hand lightly clasping the driver’s arm.

“It’s probably long gone by now,” Joe said with regard to his wallet. “I think it was a couple of boys. Teenagers, by the sound of their voices.”

“Nonetheless, it should be reported.”

“Whatever you say, Ma’am. Boston’s your home. I’m just visit. . .I’m new here.”

Laddie seemed to understand all of Joe’s uncertainties, because she gave his arm a squeeze. 

“Boston will seem like home in no time, Joe. I realize She hasn’t been very hospitable to you thus far, but you’ll soon be settled at Adam’s, and sitting down to a banquet-sized meal made by Mrs. O’Connell – the best cook on the East coast, as she’ll tell you every chance she gets. Except it’s true. She is the best cook, and also the best housekeeper. Adam’s always grumbling that he has to continually raise her salary so someone doesn’t snatch her away from him.”

Joe gave an impish grin. “Serves him right.” 

“It certainly does.” Laddie chuckled. “ I think you and I are kindred spirits where Adam’s concerned.”

“Kindred spirits?”

“We think alike.”

“Sounds that way.”

“Can’t let him be too serious and proper, now can we?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“And speaking of proper, please don’t call me that.” Laddie stopped walking as her hand was placed on the frame of the carriage – her “anchor.” Without interrupting the conversation, Elliot patted her arm, silently indicating he was going to look for Adam. She nodded her agreement to the driver, while speaking to Joe. “Ma’am is reserved for my mother. I’m Laddie.”

“Yes, Ma’. . .all right. . .Laddie. Unusual name, if you’ll excuse me for saying so.”

“That’s what I get for being Edward Brockington’s youngest daughter.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve been told Papa accepted it well when my eldest sister Helen was born, and then was followed by my sisters Margaret, and Florence. But by the time baby number four arrived, Papa so wanted a boy. It was not to be, however. Therefore, his plan of naming the child, Edward Louis Brockington Jr., changed to naming her Edwina. When baby number five was due a year later, Papa was certain he’d finally have that son he’d been longing for, only to once again become the father of a baby girl. My sister Louisa.”

“Edwina and Louisa,” Joe stated. “I suppose that’s about as close to Edward Louis as a person can get, while still giving his daughters girls’ names.”

“Exactly. And then seven years after Louisa arrived, I was my parents’ “blessed surprise,” as Papa says.”

“Not a bad thing to have your father say about you.”

“No, not at all. A very pleasant thing, actually. Though, of course, Papa–”

“. . .wanted a boy,” Joe finished for the woman.

Laddie smiled. “He most assuredly did, Joe. During the months my mother was with child, Papa referred to me as his “little lad.” He was positive that this time, there would be an Edward Louis Brockington Jr. So positive, that he wouldn’t so much as discuss a girl’s name with my mother, let alone choose one. When I was born, and Papa saw that baby number six was also a girl, I’m told he gave up all hope of ever having a son, cradled me in his arms, kissed my forehead, and said, ‘Girl or not, you’ll always be Papa’s little lad. Laddie. Laddie Rose. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.’ ”

“And it is,” Joe agreed.

Laddie shrugged. “I’ve grown accustomed to it, let’s put it that way. It was a source of school yard teasing when I was a child, but whenever I’d ask Papa why he couldn’t have given me a real girl’s name, like Catherine or Penelope, he’d remind me that I was his little lad, and that my name was all the more special because of it.”

“So, did your father ever get an Edward Jr.?”

“No. I’m the end of the line. Though he does have a grandson named Edward – Helen’s oldest boy. And Papa has twelve other grandsons too, along with three granddaughters. So what he lacked in sons, he’s more than made up for with grandsons.”

“I’d say so.”

“And you, Joe? You’re the youngest of three sons from what Adam tells me.”

“Yeah. There’s Adam, then our brother Hoss, then me.”

“Adam has mentioned you and Hoss to me on several occasions since I’ve known him. He missed you both a great deal.”

“We’ve missed him, too.” 

“And your father. Adam speaks highly of your father also.”

“Our father deserves to be spoken highly of. He’s a good man. A good Pa to his sons.”

“I hope I can meet him someday.”

“I hope you can, too. He and Hoss are planning to come for a visit in the fall.”

“That’ll be wonderful. I’ll look forward to making their acquaintance.”

“I’m sure they’ll like making yours, as well.”

The talk shifted to the school next. 

“Adam wrote and told me you’ll be taking a teaching position with us at the institute.”

“Well. . .it’s not for certain just yet. I have to interview with the school board in a few days, and to be honest, I’ve never taught anyone much of anything, if it didn’t have to do with horses, or cattle, or ranching, so I’m not sure–”

A voice filled with anxiety and fear rang out over the crowd, interrupting Joe’s sentence.

“Joe! Joe! Joe, where are you? Joe!”

Before Joe could answer, the shouts stopped. Elliot York, drawn by Adam’s frantic calls, hurried up behind the man. He tapped Adam on the shoulder and pointed toward the Brockington carriage, where Laddie and Joe stood together waiting.

Chapter 19

Adam hadn’t been gone from the bench where he’d left Joe for more than ten minutes. He’d hurried to acquire a carriage before they were all spoken for, then helped their porter get the luggage to the carriage. He tipped Isaiah, thanked him for all of his assistance, told the carriage driver, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and went to retrieve Joe. 

As he approached the bench, Adam couldn’t see Joe. He wasn’t concerned at first, assuming Joe had sat down, and the people milling about were blocking his view of his brother. But as he got closer and saw the bench was empty, Adam was momentarily confused. He looked around, wondering if he’d come to the wrong place. But when he glanced up and saw the wooden sign that read, Beacon Hill Exit, Adam knew this was where he’d left his brother. He stopped and stood on the tips of his boots, sure he’d spot Joe somewhere nearby. But when he didn’t see a beige cowboy hat – and there surely couldn’t be more than one of those in Boston at the moment – a fist of fear socked Adam in the stomach.

“Joe!” Adam stayed on his toes, scanning the area. “Joe! Hey, Joe! Joe!”

The man didn’t care if he was making a spectacle of himself as he started shagging people down and asking if they’d seen a blind man wearing a cowboy hat and a green jacket. Adam got a variety of responses, ranging from a few polite, “No, Sir. I’m sorry, I haven’t,” to a growled, “Leave me alone!” to numerous people giving him a wide berth, no doubt wary of his frantic demeanor. 

As Adam swam through the crowd, his eyes searching for a cowboy hat or flash of green material, his mind traveled back to the time when Joe was five, and he’d lost track of the kid at a traveling carnival show passing through Virginia City. Marie had been dead just a few months, and this was the first real outing their father had felt up to taking them on since her passing. While Pa did some errands around town, the boys explored the carnival’s grounds. Adam and Hoss were soon drawn to a target shooting game. Adam laid down ten cents so he and Hoss could play. The last thing he’d said to Joe before turning to take his first shot was, “You stand right here behind Hoss and me. We’ll be done in a few minutes.” 

When their game was over and they’d turned to collect Joe and leave, the kid was gone. Adam’s heart was stuck in his throat the entire time they spent looking for the boy. He dreaded the thought of having to find Pa and confess that he’d lost Little Joe. But he’d just about run out of other options, when Hoss spotted Joe seated on the back of a sideshow wagon between the Fat Lady and the Bearded Lady. The kid was having a grand time, eating a bag of candy while regaling his audience with some kind of tall tale that had them laughing. 

For the first time in his life, Adam understood why a parent was sometimes torn between giving his child a licking, and giving him a hug. In the end, Joe got a hug. In part, because Adam knew he shouldered most of the blame for the child disappearing in the first place. After all, he was seventeen, to Joe’s five, and Pa had put Adam in charge of his brothers, making Adam promise to keep an especially close eye on Little Joe. And in part, because if a licking was needed in the Cartwright household, it was Pa who administered it. Not Adam, not a hired hand, not Hop Sing, and not even their foreman, Byron, who was like a brother to Pa. Pa had always been firm about this rule, saying he would handle the discipline as he saw fit where his sons were concerned. He tended to “spare the rod,” more than most fathers, not that Adam was complaining. Although while he hugged Joe, Adam thought his brother shouldn’t be spared the rod this time. He even said as much, then tried not to laugh as Joe put up a loud protest. Hoss soon joined in, reminding Adam that he’d been the one in charge, and if, “You’re gonna tell Pa on Little Joe, you might as well tell ‘im on yourself, Adam. If Joe’s gonna git a lickin’ outta this, then you deserve one too.”

“I’m seventeen – almost eighteen – and leaving for college in the fall,” Adam had reminded Hoss, with a grownup air of superiority.

Hoss, who despite just celebrating his twelfth birthday the previous week, proved himself wise beyond his years, as he often did when you least expected it.

“I bet it won’t much matter ta’ Pa if you are almost eighteen. Losin’ track a’ Little Joe, just ‘cause you wanted ta’ do some target shootin,’ seems like a pretty serious offense ta’ me.”

“Yeah,” Joe piped up, from where he now stood in-between his brothers. “Seems like a pretty serious offense to me, too.”

Adam scowled down at the child. “You don’t even know what the word offense means.”

“Do too. Pa told us, didn’t he, Hoss?”

“Sure did. A few weeks back, when it was one a’ them there vocabulary words I had ta’ define for school.”

Adam glared at Hoss. “Well, I didn’t hear you turning me down when I offered to pay for that round of target shooting.”

Hoss gave his brother a smug smile in return. “Yeah, but I wasn’t the one in charge a’ Little Joe.”

“Yeah,” Joe grinned, “he wasn’t the one in charge a’ me.”

“Be quiet,” Adam ordered, for lack of anything else to say. As they walked away from Joe’s new friends, Adam bartered, “I’ll tell you what. You share your candy with us, and I won’t mention any of this to Pa. Deal?”

Joe held up his bag so Adam and Hoss could each take a handful. “Deal.”

“Where’d you get it from, anyway?”

“The Fat Lady. She said I could have it, ‘cause she needs to go on a diet.”

All three boys found that funny, and soon who was or wasn’t at fault over Joe’s disappearance, was forgotten as the brothers spent the rest of the day touring the carnival grounds.

This time I probably won’t get lucky enough to find him sitting safely between a fat lady and a lady with a beard. Come on, Joe. Where are you? Why the hell didn’t you stay put like I told you to?

Just as Adam called for Joe one last time, and then decided he’d better find a policeman to assist him in his search, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, surprised to see Elliot York standing behind him. His eyes followed the direction Elliot pointed toward, first widening with relief when he saw Joe, then narrowing with anger as he marched for the Brockington carriage.

Chapter 20

A hand grabbed Joe’s arm and swung him around. 

“Where have you been?”

Joe never had taken well to Adam using that accusatory, big brother tone with him, and no amount of age or maturity would likely ever change that fact. Therefore, Joe’s temper blew before he had time to remember that there was a woman standing next to him.

“Where I’ve been is all over this train station, thanks to you!”

As had been the case all of their lives, Adam’s response to Joe’s temper was to display his own.

“Thanks to me? All I asked was that you stay put! All I asked was that you wait for me like I taught you to. But no! You have to go running off, just like that time when you were five and–”

“If by running off you mean having my wallet stolen by a couple of kids and–”

“Well you shouldn’t have tried to chase them down! You shouldn’t have left that bench, Joe! How many times do I have to tell you–”

“I didn’t chase them down! They–” 

“I don’t care what they did! You’re blind now, Joe! You’re blind, and you 
can’t–”

“Wow, Adam, thanks for that information. I wouldn’t have known I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face if you hadn’t just announced it to everyone in Boston!”

“Look, all I asked was that you stay put. Maybe bringing you here was a mistake.”

“Maybe it was! So far your precious Boston hasn’t been very welcoming. Maybe I should just go home.”

“Maybe you should!”

“Then I will!”

“Good! I’ll buy you a ticket and put you on the next train if that’s what you want!”

“That’s what I want!”

“All right then–” 

“Gentlemen.” Laddie interrupted the heated tirade before the brothers made decisions they’d both regret. “Gentlemen, please. The two of you are behaving worse than even the most unruly boys who have passed through my classroom. I’d make you both serve detention during recess if I thought it would do any good, but you’d likely just start brawling again the minute you were left unattended.”

Laddie’s voice reminded the Cartwright brothers that first and foremost, a lady was present, and second, that she was right. They were acting like a couple of unruly kids, as opposed to acting like grown men, and brothers to boot.

Joe was the first to apologize. 

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

“Yes, I apologize, too,” Adam said. “You shouldn’t have been subjected to 
our. . .brotherly disagreement.”

“Remind me to put Papa in a room with the two of you sometime. It will make him thankful that he had all girls.”

Joe chuckled. “Yeah, it sure will.”

Adam smiled. Like Joe, the worse of his anger had passed, thanks to Laddie. “Our pa would wholeheartedly agree with that. As a matter of fact, on some days, he’d probably be eager to trade your father boys for girls, and not care that he ended up with three extra children in the bargain.”

“After being privy to your rather. . .loud discussion, I can understand why,” Laddie said. “And now, how about if we set aside the harsh words and accusations, and take our leave. There’s no use in staying here longer and drawing a crowd with your shouts. Joe, in the morning, if you still want to go home, Adam can buy you a ticket. But you’ll need a traveling companion, so until that can be arranged, I’m afraid you’re stuck here in Boston.”

Properly chastised, Joe blushed. “I. . .I’ll probably stay a while, if Adam’ll still have me.”

“I’ll still have you.”

“Good,” the woman acknowledged. “Then that foolishness is settled. I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m looking forward to the supper Mrs. O’Connell will have waiting for us. Why don’t you and Elliot get the luggage, Adam, then we’ll be on our way.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Elliot, it’s back over there. Our luggage is already loaded on a carriage, but I can hire a porter to help us transfer it.”

“Very good, Mr. Cartwright.”

Adam turned around and ordered pointedly, “And you two stay right there. I mean it, Joe.”

Joe took a step forward, only to have Laddie grab his arm and say softly as Adam left with Elliot, “Let him have the last word, Joe.” 

“Why?”

“Because he’s the oldest, and it’s important to him.”

“All the more reason why I shouldn’t let him have the last word.”

Laddie chuckled at Joe’s stubbornness. “Do you two butt heads like this often?”

“On a fairly regular basis, yeah. Why? Don’t sisters argue?”

“Oh, we do, though not with quite as much. . .gusto.”

“Gusto.” Joe smiled at the word. “That’s a good way to put it. Adam and I have always had a lot of gusto behind our disagreements.”

“Ah, I see.” Laddie’s tone spoke of her understanding. “The typical clashes that occur between the eldest and the youngest, is that it?”

“I guess so, because Hoss and I rarely get into it, and the same goes for Hoss and Adam.”

“Helen and I often have the same difficulties. She’s fourteen years my senior, and sometimes forgets that it’s been a good many years since I’ve been in need of a second mother. Much like I’m sure Adam sometimes forgets that you no longer need a second father.” 

“Exactly.”

Laddie patted Joe’s arm. “See. I told you we’re kindred spirits. This just proves it all the more.”

“Because we both have bossy older siblings?”

Laddie laughed. “Yes, because we both have bossy older siblings, though I think we’d better keep that between us.”

“Since I’m relying on Adam’s generosity in order to have a roof over my head, I think you’re right.”

When Adam and Elliot returned with a porter pushing their luggage on a wooden cart, Adam asked, “What are you two finding so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Laddie replied. “We were just talking about how grateful we are for our older siblings.”

“Yeah, Adam,” Joe smiled. “That’s what we were talking about.”

“Uh huh,” Adam said knowingly. “I’m sure you were. For some reason, I get the impression that the two of you together spells nothing but trouble for me.”

“Oh now, come on, older brother, what would give you that idea?”

“Just a feeling I have, younger brother, let’s put it that way.”

The teasing ended once the luggage was secured. Adam tipped the porter, thanked him, and helped Laddie into the carriage. He then placed a hand on Joe’s elbow. 

“One step up, Joe, then turn to your right, and you’ll feel the seat against the backs of your knees.”

Once the trio was settled, Elliot climbed onto the driver’s perch. 

“To your home, Mr. Cartwright?”

“Yes, Elliot, to my home.”

“Very good then.”

Elliot gave the horse a light slap with the reins and ordered, “Giddy up.” The carriage moved forward, its driver steering it toward Beacon Hill, and the sumptuous house where Adam Cartwright resided.

Chapter 21

Joe gave his mouth a final wipe with the linen napkin, then placed it on his empty dessert plate. He’d barely sat back in his chair before a pair of chubby arms swooped in and whisked the plate away.

“Would yeh like another spot of coffee, Joseph?”

Despite the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, Joe smiled. He’d only known Mrs. O’Connell a couple of hours, but Adam claimed she was already spoiling him. And admittedly, she was. She’d taken to Joe the moment he walked in the door and Adam introduced him.

“Mrs. O’Connell, this is my brother Joe.”

“Nice ta’ make yer acquaintance, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Likewise, Ma’am.”

“Mr. Cartwright has spoken of yeh to me on many occasions, Mr. Cartwright.”

“I’m sure he has.” Joe gave a sly smile. “And probably hasn’t told you anything good, either.”

“Come now, Mr. Cartwright, don’t yeh jest like that. Mr. Cartwright never has anything but kind words and praise fer his family, he does.”

“You’re obviously confused, Mrs. O’Connell. I’ve always had kind words and praise for my brother Hoss, and my father. As for this scamp, now that’s another story.”

Joe pictured Bridget O’Connell shaking a scolding finger at Adam.

“That’s a falsehood if I ever heard one, Adam Cartwright. Yeh should be ashamed of yerself fer teasin’ yer dear brother like that.”

“Yeah, Adam,” Joe quipped. “You should be ashamed of yourself for teasing me like that.”

Joe was jostled forwarded by a brotherly elbow thrust into his ribs.

Mrs. O’Connell went on as though she hadn’t seen the horseplay.

“Why, he reminds me of me own dear brother Joseph. Gone from this earth fer just a year now, may his sweet soul rest in peace.”

“He was as big a scoundrel as the day is long,” Adam mumbled into Joe’s ear, while Mrs. O’Connell continued to lament over her departed sibling. “Always in debt to someone over scams that went sour, and then always coming around here to beg money from Mrs. O’Connell. That is, when he was sober enough to find his way.”

Joe would have laughed at his brother’s words, if it hadn’t sounded like poor Mrs. O’Connell was on the verge of tears. He could picture her dabbing at her eyes with a dishcloth, or perhaps with the corner of her apron. For that reason, Joe was just beginning to realize how perceptive a blind person could be if he only listened carefully to what was happening around him. 

“Well now, enough of me goin’ on about me own heartaches as though I’ve never had a sunny day. As me precious mam was fond of sayin,’ ‘There’s always another poor bloke who’s got worse troubles, Bridget, so bear that in mind the next time yeh go to feelin’ sorry fer yerself.’ ”

“Yes, Ma’am. That’s good advice.”

The woman patted Joe’s arm. “Ah, but yeh are a sweet lad, aren’t yeh.”

Joe turned to Adam and smiled. “Yes, Ma’am. My brother Adam here is always saying that very thing.”

“While trying not to choke at the same time,” Adam muttered.

“Oh you boys.”

“Yes,” Laddie echoed the housekeeper, “oh you boys. I get the impression this will go on all evening if we allow it to, Mrs. O’Connell. However, I’m sure their father would say it’s past time their quarreling ends. Would you like some help in the kitchen while Adam familiarizes Joe with the house?”

“That I would, Miss Laddie. I thank yeh, I do.” The housekeeper addressed the men next. “Mr. Cartwright, why don’t yeh show Mr. Cartwright to his room. I have it prepared fer him just like yeh asked me to.”

Before Adam could answer the woman, Joe made the same request of her that he’d made of Elliot. 

“Mrs. O’Connell, please call me Joe.”

“Aw no, Mr. Cartwright. No. I canna’ do that.”

“Don’t tell me, let me guess. It’s not proper.”

“No, Sir, it’s not. It’s not at all proper for a housekeeper to call her employer’s guests by their first names. Me dear mam taught me that long before God saw fit to put yeh on this earth, lad.”

“Would it be proper if I give you permission? Like I told Elliot, it’s gonna get pretty confusing around here now that there’s two Mr. Cartwrights in the house.”

“I ‘cpect so, but still–”

“Then please. Joe will be fine.”

“It just doesn’t seem right, me callin’ yeh Joe. Guess I could call yeh’ Mr. Joe, like I call this fine lass here Miss Laddie – with her permission, a’ course – but fer some reason I just don’t like the sound of it.” The woman thought a moment, then brightened. “But Joseph. I could call yeh Joseph.” Mrs. O’Connell turned to Adam. “Does that sound proper enough, Mr. Cartwright?”

Adam’s smile held a hint of mischief. He knew how much Joe would hate being addressed as Joseph on a continual basis. 

“Yes, I do. I think it holds just the right amount of propriety. Mrs. O’Connell, you have my permission to address my brother as Joseph from now on.”

Joe shot Adam a dirty look. Or at least he hoped it went in Adam’s direction, as opposed to being seen by one of the women. 

“Joseph. Just like me own dear brother Joseph. Is that all right with yeh, Joseph?”

Joe gave the woman a weak smile. “Uh. . .sure. Sure, that’s fine.”

“By the look on yer face, I can see no one calls yeh that very often. A shame too, bein’ it’s such a nice, manly name.”

“No, Ma’am. My pa’s about the only one who calls me Joseph, and then only when he’s mad at me, or trying to make me see his side of an argument. . .or telling me to take my feet off the furniture.”

“Or worried about him,” Adam murmured to Laddie, though not softly enough that Joe didn’t overhear.

Joe didn’t have a chance to dispute his brother’s comment, because Elliot came in with some of the luggage. The next few minutes were spent getting things unloaded from the carriage. Elliot followed Mrs. O’Connell, carrying the luggage to the appropriate rooms. He then made his leave, telling Laddie he was going home for supper.

“Shall I return for you at nine, Miss Laddie?”

“That will be fine, Elliot. Thank you.”

After Elliot left, Laddie went to the kitchen with Mrs. O’Connell, while Adam familiarized his brother with the house. Although the method of learning each room didn’t differ from what Adam had taught Joe on the Ponderosa, this was the first time Joe had the opportunity to use his skills in a house foreign to him.

“Let me draw you a map first, Joe. Give me your hand.”

Joe presented his left palm to Adam. As Adam’s index finger traced the layout of the parlor, while at the same time he verbally described the room, Joe tried to visualize what it looked like. When Adam’s “drawing” was completed, he asked, “Ready to take a tour?”

“I think so.”

Joe did as Adam had taught him, protecting his face with his right arm while his left hand slid slowly along the wall. Adam walked behind, only stopping their progress if Joe came to a piece of furniture he was in danger of toppling over. 

“You’re coming to the fireplace now, Joe.”

“All right.” Joe’s hand brushed against the mantel. “I feel it.”

“Take five steps to your right so you don’t trip over the hearth.”

“Okay.”

Joe’s hand slid along the mantel, bumping against the corner of a large picture frame that seemed to be hanging on the chimney.

“A portrait of my grandfather,” Adam supplied.

Joe nodded. He’d never met Abel Stoddard, and had no idea what he looked like. Someday he’d ask Adam to describe the man in both physical appearance and personality, but for the time being, he set his curiosity aside and continued his travels. When Joe’s hand encountered a smaller frame residing on the mantel, Adam said, “The picture of the four of us that was taken shortly before I went to sea.”

Joe nodded again. This time he was able to easily visualize what the people in the photograph looked like.

“Okay, now stop and bend down while holding out your left hand.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Joe heard the smile in his brother’s voice. When he felt soft fur, and then a wet tongue licked his hand, Joe smiled, too.

“A dog? You have a dog?”

“Well, it’s not a bearskin rug, that’s for certain. Joe, meet Shakespeare.”

“Shakespeare?”

“Yes.”

Joe crouched beside the dog for a moment, stroking his large head and feeling the heat from his panting breath. 

Shakespeare, huh? Leave it to Adam to be courting a woman with a dog’s name, and to own a dog named for a dead guy who wrote boring books.

Joe wisely kept those thoughts to himself as he stood and navigated around the animal.

“What kind of a dog is he?”

“German Shepherd.”

Joe wasn’t familiar with the breed, though he had seen a picture of one a year or so ago in the Territorial Enterprise. 

“Big dog.”

“Yes,” Adam acknowledged. “He probably weighs ninety pounds. Maybe a little more. But don’t worry, he’s gentle.”

“Didn’t think you’d tell me to bend down and pet him if he was gonna take my hand off.”

Adam chuckled. “Tempting thought though it is, no, I wouldn’t have.”

The dog remained where he was, lounging next to the fireplace hearth, as Adam and Joe moved on. 

“We’re going to walk across the foyer now, then we’ll be in the dining room. The foyer is all that separates the dining room from the parlor.”

“All right.”

When the men reached the dining room, the process of Adam drawing a map on Joe’s hand was repeated, then Joe navigated around the long table that sat eight, and had been carved from cherry wood by a craftsman in Scotland. Adam said the tablecloth, wispy and delicate to Joe’s touch, was purchased in Japan by his grandfather, and that the heavy window tapestries came from India. Just like in the parlor, a large rug Abel Stoddard had brought back from the Orient covered a good portion of the dining room floor.

Joe’s hands explored the buffet, and the china cabinet mounted on top of it, before the brothers continued their journey. Joe got acquainted with the kitchen, then the summer kitchen where the women were cooking supper, and after that, the back porch that ran the length of the house. The gardener Adam employed maintained the yard, flowerbeds, birdbaths, birdfeeders, and flower-lined paths of the three acres that sprawled behind the home, and were surrounded by a black wrought-iron fence. Adam promised he’d take Joe for a walk around the grounds the next day. The chirping of the birds, and the mixture of pleasant scents created by the flowers, made Joe decide this porch, with its comfortable furniture and overhead roof that shaded it from the hot sun, would be a favorite spot of his.

The men traveled back through the two kitchens to Adam’s study. This big room was in front of the dining room, and included a bay window.

“The window overlooks the front lawn and street. We’re about twenty feet off the ground, as you probably noticed when we climbed up the front walkway. The house is built on a hill.”

“Thus the name Beacon Hill,” Joe said.

“You’re smarter than you look sometimes.”

“My oldest brother has been known to admit that every so often.”

“Reluctantly, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure too,” Joe laughed.

At Adam’s encouragement, Joe picked up and shook a set of maracas, hearing the “cha cha cha,” rhythm the seeds inside made. As with other rooms in the home, Adam said that many of the items on the study’s bookshelves, and hanging on its walls, were collected by his grandfather during his years of travel to foreign ports. The massive desk sitting several feet in front of the window was made from mahogany wood Abel Stoddard had purchased in South America. 

Joe’s hand ran over rows and rows of leather bound books as he finished his tour.

“Are these all yours, or were some of them your grandfather’s?”

“The majority of them are mine, along with a few that Grandfather said belonged to my mother.”

The rich, mingling smells of mahogany and leather made Joe think of Adam. The room seemed to define his brother, and Joe could picture the hours Adam spent in here, seated behind the desk doing paperwork that he’d brought home from the institute, or sitting in the chair by the corner fireplace reading a book. 

The only room on the main floor Joe didn’t tour belonged to Mrs. O’Connell. It was located off the kitchen, and from what Joe gathered based on Adam’s description, was similar in size and comforts to the room Hop Sing had on the Ponderosa.

“We’re going to walk back through the dining room, Joe, and then the length of the foyer until we reach the stairway that’ll take us to the second story.”

“All right.”

Just as the toe of Joe’s right boot had knocked against the bottom stair, Laddie called from the dining room, “Supper will be on the table in twenty minutes, Adam!”

“We’ll be there. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Joe heard the woman’s light footsteps move off toward the back of the house. 

“Okay, Joe, fourteen steps straight up. There’s no landing like at home until you reach the top. The railing is on your right.”

Joe nodded, proceeding up the stairs with Adam following him. He toured the four bedrooms the upper story contained. When they reached the room that would be Joe’s for as long as he lived here, Adam encouraged him to take his time exploring it.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Adam said, as Joe walked the perimeter of the room with his left hand brushing against the wall.

“It’s fine. Real nice. Thanks.”

And it was nice from what Joe could tell. A Hoss-sized four-poster bed sat in the center of the room. There were two large windows that allowed fresh air to flow freely throughout. A chest containing six drawers for clothing, along with a closet, resided on one wall, a small desk with a chair resided on another. The washstand with pitcher and bowl were next to the bed.

Adam reached Joe’s hand upward until he encountered a brass fixture mounted on the wall.

“Gas lights throughout the house. There’s no need to carry a kerosene lamp from room to room.”

“Doesn’t make any difference,” Joe did his best to joke, “since I don’t have much need for lights these days.”

“No, I guess you don’t,” Adam agreed in the same light tone Joe had used.

The last room the brothers’ toured was two doors down from Joe’s, and across the hall.

“This is the lavatory.”

“Lavatory?”

“What you’d know as the water closet.”

This was the only room Adam didn’t map out on his brother’s hand. 

“Go ahead and explore it.”

“Aren’t you gonna explain the layout to me?”

“No. I’ll be right behind you. Go ahead and see what you think of it.”

“Adam, it’s just a water closet. I–”

Instead of scolding Joe for not exploring the room as he’d been taught, Adam laughed when Joe’s knees rammed into an object Joe couldn’t identify. 

“What the heck is this?”

“To put it delicately, it’s a one seater.”

“A one. . .” Joe turned in the direction of his brother’s voice, certain the confusion on his face was plain for Adam to read. “You mean it’s like. . .it’s an outhouse, in the house?”

“That’s what I mean. It’s called a commode.”

“But how does it work?”

“The. . .uh. . .execution of using it isn’t any different from what you’re used to at home. But by pulling this chain when you’re finished,” Adam guided Joe’s hand upward until it was wrapped around a wooden handle hanging from a chain, “you flush away the waste.”

“And it goes where?” Joe asked, with a good deal of trepidation.

“Through underground pipes until it reaches Boston’s sewer plant.”

“And I can use it any time I want. . .” Joe blushed, “I mean, any time I need to?”

Adam laughed. “Yes, any time day or night. Just remember to put the seat down when you’re done, or you’ll hear about it from Mrs. O’Connell.”

It would take Joe a day or two to understand what Adam meant, but for now, he just said, “All right.”

Joe found the washstand next, jumping back when Adam turned on a faucet that made water shoot into the marble sink.

“You don’t have to pour it in from a wash pitcher?”

“No.”

Joe felt around.

“Where’s the pump?”

“There isn’t one. The house has a water tank.”

Joe next allowed Adam to lead him to what felt like a massive square wooden box surrounding smooth porcelain. As his hands explored it, his face lit up.

“It’s a bathtub.”

“That it is.” Joe’s hands were moved to the front of the tub. “Here’re the faucets.”

“You can just turn one of these on, and water’ll run in the tub?”

“Yep. The right one is hot water; the left one is cold. Just make sure you have this plug in the drain before you turn the faucets on. When you’re finished bathing and want to let the water out, you pull the plug.”

“And you don’t have to heat the water on the kitchen stove?”

“No.”

“How’s it get hot then?”

“It’s heated by the natural gas that’s piped into the house.” 

Joe grinned as he straightened. “Hoss would love this.”

“We’d probably never get him to come out of here, would we?”

“Not for the better part of a day, that’s for sure.”

Adam showed Joe how to regulate the water so he wouldn’t burn himself, then led him to the bureau that contained towels, wash clothes, and bed linens. From there, they walked the few steps to the dirty clothes bin.

“You can put anything you need laundered in here. Mrs. O’Connell empties it every Tuesday, bundles it all together, and leaves it on the back porch for the laundry boy. Everything we send out is returned to us on Friday.”

“All right. Let me know what I owe you for it. And anything else, like food 
and–”

“I’m not going to charge you for food. And as for the cost of the laundry, we’ll worry about that after you start working at the institute.”

“Adam, I can pay my own way.”

“I know you can, and you will after you start working. For now it’s not important.”

“Adam–”

“Joe, allow me to assure you that money isn’t an issue here. You’re my brother. I’m not doing anything for you that you wouldn’t do for me.”

“I know but–” 

“Unless you want Laddie upset with us, I’d advise you to drop it before we start arguing again.”

In deference to the woman who’d helped him at the train station, Joe conceded.

“Okay, okay, I’ll drop it. But just as soon as I’m earning a weekly salary, you’re taking some money from me.”

Adam put his arm around Joe’s shoulders and led him from the room. 

“Joseph, I’ve been waiting twenty-nine years to hear you volunteer to give me money without me having to hang you upside down by your ankles and shake it out of your pockets. Believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Joe said in the same dry tone Adam was fond of using.

The men had returned downstairs to find a table laden with so much food that even Hoss couldn’t have finished it all. Or at least not in one sitting, Joe said to Adam and Laddie as yet another dish was passed to him.

When dessert was finished and Mrs. O’Connell offered Joe that additional “spot” of coffee, he politely refused.

“No no. I’ve had all I can hold. Everything was very good. Thank you.”

“Yer welcome, Joseph. It’s a pleasure ta’ cook for someone who appreciates me efforts.”

“I appreciate your efforts,” Adam told the woman.

“One wouldn’t know it by the lack of kind words yeh bestow.”

“I’m kind to you!”

“Not as kind as Joseph. Yeh could learn a thing or two from yer brother, Adam Cartwright. A “please” and “thank you” ever’ so often does a woman’s heart good.”

Mrs. O’Connell marched from the room with a “huff,” Adam calling after her, “Mrs. O’Connell! Mrs. O’Connell, if you think I don’t shower you with enough kind words, then you can just go down the street and work for Jackson Prewitt. Then you’ll find out just how kind I am.”

“I just might do that!” came from the kitchen.

“Then farewell!”

“And farewell to yeh too!”

Laddie leaned close to Joe. “Don’t worry, they do this all the time. It doesn’t mean a thing. They’re like an old married couple who wouldn’t be happy unless they had at least one good argument a day.”

“I’m beginning to get that impression.”

“What are you two whispering about?”

“Oh nothing,” Laddie said with a smile in her voice. “Nothing at all.”

“Nothing, Adam,” Joe assured. “So much of nothing, that I’m going to excuse myself and call it a night.”

“It’s only seven-thirty, Joe.”

“Feels more like midnight to me for some reason.”

“Traveling will do that to a person. Do you need my help finding your room?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I know where it is.”

“All right.”

Joe heard chairs being pushed away from the table as he stood, then his brother bid him, “Goodnight.”

“ ‘Night, Adam.”

“Goodnight, Joe.”

Joe turned toward the sound of Laddie’s voice. 

“Goodnight, Laddie. It was nice meeting you. Thanks again for the help you gave me today at the station.”

“You’re welcome. Sleep well.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Joe left the room then, making his way to the stairs. He looked forward to “sleeping well” as Laddie put it, and getting rid of his headache before it grew any worse.

Joe heard Adam tell Laddie they’d have their coffee in the parlor, then didn’t hear anything else that transpired between the couple, as he reached the top of the stairs and headed for his room.

Chapter 22

“Oh, Joseph, I apologize. I wasn’t excectin’ yeh to be comin’ to yer room so soon after supper.”

“That’s okay.”

“I was just puttin’ yer clothes away fer yeh.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Joe told the housekeeper, realizing she must have come up the back staircase from the kitchen.

“I don’t mind. Yeh look tired, yeh do. Sit down on the bed there and take a bit of a rest.”

“I will, but only if you sit down and rest, too.”

“Oh now, I don’t be needin’ to do that. Go on with yeh though. Sit. Sit, sit, sit.”

Joe chuckled, but did as the woman commanded. He pulled his boots off and set them on the floor beside his bed, then sank to the mattress, leaning his upper body against one of the tall posts.

As the woman bustled around the room, Joe commented, “Adam said you live here full time?”

“For a good many years I have. Ever since me husband passed away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That me husband passed away?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be. He was a nutter.”

“A nutter?”

“Not right in the head. Don’ know why I married him to begin with. Guess ‘cause he was the only one who asked me. I wasn’t the kinda’ girl who caught a young man’s eye.”

“Oh come on. I don’t believe that.”

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth. But never yeh mind about it. We can’t all be fair of face like yerself and Miss Laddie. God gives each of us our share of blessings, as me dear mam often said. What one gits another doesn’t, and so on. It all works out even in the end.”

“I imagine it does.”

“So after Seamus – me husband – passed on, Captain Stoddard invited me to live here. He was bein’ kind, he was. He knew I’d have a hard time makin’ ends meet if I didn’t have me room and board as part of me pay. I have no sons to help provide for me, yeh see. The good Lord didn’t bless Seamus and me with children, which was probably just as well, since nutters run in Seamus’s family.”

“What was he like?”

“I already told yeh,” the woman said as she moved between Joe’s trunk, the dresser, and the closet, putting his clothes away. “He was a nutter.”

“Captain Stoddard?”

“No Seamus. But if it’s Captain Stoddard yer askin’ me about now, he was a lot like yer brother Adam.”

“How so?”

“A smart man, he was. A good man; well thought a’ by those who worked fer him and did business with him. A little too serious much a’ the time, and stingy with his pleases and thank yous, just like yer brother is, yet he cared. He cared deeply in his heart, I believe. Just had a hard time showin’ it.”

“Guess he does sound a little like Adam.”

“Not a little, Joseph. A lot. Adam has much of his grandfather in ‘im. So much that sometimes I catch meself callin’ him Captain Stoddard by mistake.” 

The woman shut a drawer. From the sound of her voice, Joe could tell she’d turned to look at him. “Whew, that job’s done. Think I’ll shut this trunk and take me a bit of a rest right here on top of it ‘fore I go downstairs and wash the dishes, if yeh don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. Please do. And thanks for putting my things away.”

“Yer welcome. Just don’t tell yer brother I unpacked yer luggage, or he’ll be thinkin’ I should unpack his, too.”

Joe laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I knew it would be. Yeh know, he was beside himself with worry over yeh.”

“Pardon?”

“Yer brother. He was worried somethin’ fierce over yeh when he got yer da’s telegram ‘bout yer accident.”

“Oh. Oh. . .I suppose he was.”

“And then after yer da’s letter came ‘bout wantin’ to hire a teacher, yer brother told Miss Laddie straight off that he’d be leavin’ for Nevada to offer yeh whatever help he could. Never hesitated a bit, he didn’t. Just said his responsibilities at the school would have to wait until he got back.”

Joe absorbed this news without comment. He’d assumed his father had asked Adam to come home. Until now, he hadn’t known that Adam had made that decision of his own accord.

“He worked hard too, learnin’ things to teach yeh from Miss Laddie.”

“I’m sure he did.”

“ ‘Course she was the best teacher he could have, her bein’ blind and all.”

Despite his headache and weariness, Joe pushed himself away from the bedpost. 

“What’d you say?”

“That she’s the best teacher–”

“No, I mean the part about Laddie being blind.”

“I said just that. She’s blind. Yeh didn’t know?”

“Uh. . .no. No, I didn’t.”

“Oh dear. There I go runnin’ on at me mouth again. I’m sorry, Joseph. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell yeh. Mr. Cartwright didn’t say not to, but if he didn’t want me to, he’ll be awfully cross with me.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him be.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well there, I like yeh even more now than I already did.” Joe heard the rustle of the woman’s skirts as she stood. “I’ll push this empty trunk into the closet, then I’d better get at those dishes. I laid out a clean towel and a washcloth for yeh in the lavatory on the edge of the sink, and I put yer toothbrush and tooth powder there, too. Yer other things – comb, and hair tonic, and razor, and such, are here on top a’ the dresser.”

“Thank you.”

“Yer welcome. Sleep peacefully, Joseph.”

“I will. You too.”

“Goodnight to yeh.”

“Goodnight,” Joe replied, hearing the door close as the woman departed.

Joe sat a moment absorbing all he’d been told by Mrs. O’Connell, then stood, making his way out of his room and down the hall to the water closet. He’d been in a few expensive San Francisco hotels over the years and enjoyed their bathing luxuries, but not even the most lavish San Francisco accommodations compared to the conveniences right here in Adam’s home.

Guess there is a thing or two to be said for big city living here in the East.

Joe used the facilities, jumping a little at the “whooshing” sound the commode made when he pulled the chain to flush it. He hoped he hadn’t broken it, but when Adam didn’t come charging up the stairs, Joe assumed he’d done nothing wrong. He moved to the sink, where he washed his hands and face, then brushed his teeth, all the while relishing in the convenience of how easy it was to cleanup when you didn’t have to pump water into a pitcher, and then pour it into a washbowl. 

Joe returned to his room, faintly hearing Laddie and Adam’s voices coming from the parlor below as he navigated the hall. After he closed his door, Joe removed his pants, shirt, and socks, and laid them across the end of the bed. He was too tired, and his head hurt too much, for him to care about finding which drawer Mrs. O’Connell had put his nightshirts in. He climbed between the sheets wearing just his under drawers, the scent of Adam’s flowerbeds drifting in with the summer breeze.

Joe gave a grateful sigh as his aching head sank into the pillows. Mrs. O’Connell had given him a lot of information to think about, but Joe was too exhausted, and in too much pain, to concentrate on anything but trying to capture the relief sleep would bring him.

Chapter 23

The Cartwright brothers breakfasted at the round wicker table on the back porch the next morning. Or on the “veranda” as Adam referred to it, only to have Joe counter with, “Yeah, like I said, the back porch.”

In a haughty tone, Adam teased, “We call it a veranda here in Boston.” 

“Well now, that might be so, but as your hero Mr. Shakespeare was fond of saying, a rose by any other name. . .”

Adam toasted his brother with his thin china coffee cup. “Touché, Joseph. I didn’t realize you were familiar with Shakespeare.”

“Only familiar with him because Miss Jones made us put on some of his plays in school. She always gave me the biggest speaking part, since Mitch had such a bad case of stage fright he spent most of each performance in the outhouse, and as far as any of the other boys went – no one could do memory work as slick as me.”

“Thanks to the way Pa made us recite our school work to him while we did chores.”

“Maybe that’s what helped you. As for me, it’s thanks to the way I memorized the rotation of what girls were scheduled to dance on what days at the Silver Dollar.”

“You couldn’t even get in the Silver Dollar when you were still in school,” Adam scoffed. “Sam would have kicked you out. He knew Pa would have his hide if he let you frequent that place.”

“I could get in if I slipped in the back door, and kinda laid-low behind a corner table. Boy, that Nellie could sure give a man – as well as a boy – a mighty fine view when her leg went in the air, couldn’t she?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Joe cocked an eyebrow over his plate of three eggs fried sunny-side up. “Oh you wouldn’t, would you?”

“Um. . .no. No, I wouldn’t,” Adam answered, all the while wondering if his brother knew Miss Nellie had been as much a favorite of his, as she’d evidently been of fourteen-year-old Joe’s.

Adam got his answer when Joe laughed in that cackling way he had whenever he was delighted about something.

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Joe said smugly. “Just like I’m sure Hoss would deny that Doris was the one he fancied.”

“Doris? Why she was as big as a barn.”

Joe shrugged. “There’s no accounting for taste when it comes to what a man desires in a woman.”

“Apparently not.”

“Speaking of women, Laddie seems very nice.”

“She is.”

“Sounds young.”

“She’s twenty-six.” 

Adam’s reply was sharper than he’d intended it to be, as though he was challenging Joe to make a comment – any comment at all – about the age difference between himself and the woman he was courting.

Joe didn’t make a comment, though. Or at least not one that Adam could take offense at. Joe only nodded his head. “I thought she sounded young.”

“You two seemed to have hit it off.”

“Like I said, she’s nice. I’m happy for you, Adam. For both of you.”

“Happy for us for what reason?”

“That you’re seeing one another.”

“How do you know we’re “seeing” one another?”

“Same reason I know Nellie was your favorite saloon girl. I’m the youngest. I’ve had years of practice at paying close attention to the things you or Pa won’t come right out and tell me.” 

“Or you saw me in the Silver Dollar when you were hiding behind that corner table.”

Joe grinned. “That too.”

Adam studied his brother over their plates of eggs, toast, bacon, and blueberries. This last was a fruit Joe had never eaten before, because it wasn’t native to Nevada or the surrounding area. 

Given another time, Adam would have been jealous of how well Joe and Laddie got on from the moment they met, and Joe would have given him cause to be. The competitiveness between them ran long and deep, dating back to all of the years Adam was envious of the attention Joe received from their father, and Joe was envious of Adam’s position as the oldest brother, and all the privileges it brought him. Or at least privileges in Joe’s eyes. But Adam’s years away from the Ponderosa had done them both good. Adam could see that now. Joe hadn’t needed a big brother in order to grow into the man he was to become – a man of strength and character, whose actions reflected the moral teachings he’d been raised with. The kind of man Pa was proud of, just like Pa was proud of Hoss, and proud of Adam, too. 

Now, for reasons Adam couldn’t fully pinpoint, he knew Joe wouldn’t make a play for his girl. There was a time when the insecurities Adam never admitted to out loud, would have had him as on guard as an old “mama bear with one cub,” as Hoss would say, where Laddie and Joe were concerned. But no more. Although a degree of competitiveness would likely always exist between himself and Joe, Adam had no worries that his brother would initiate anything with Laddie that was meant to take her away from him. 

Of course, it doesn’t hurt any that they can’t see each other, Adam chuckled to himself, in reference to the beautiful woman he was courting and his handsome brother. Even with that sprinkling of gray hair, you still turn the ladies’ heads, Joseph, and probably will until the day you die.

Joe interrupted Adam’s thoughts as he took another spoonful of blueberries from the small bowl to the left of his breakfast plate. “These are good.”

“I thought you’d like them.” Adam took note of how well rested Joe looked this morning, and how chipper he sounded. The early trip to bed had probably been the best thing for him after their long day. “They make an excellent pie, too.”

“Now that Hoss would like.”

This wasn’t the first time since leaving Virginia City that Adam realized how often Joe mentioned Hoss. He assumed this was a reflection of a touch of homesickness. Or maybe it was just a reflection of all the years’ worth of adventures Joe had shared with Hoss, and that Joe would like to be sharing this adventure in Boston with his middle brother, as well.

“Mrs. O’Connell canned some of them. I’ll ask her to make a blueberry pie when Hoss and Pa come to visit.”

“Hoss’ll enjoy that almost as much as he’s gonna enjoy that bathtub of yours.”

“I imagine you’re right.”

Joe finished his blueberries, pushing the dish aside. He “looked” at his brother. 

“Adam, why didn’t you tell me Laddie was blind?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. Why didn’t you tell me Laddie was blind?”

Adam’s eyes shot to the screen door, where the little woman who’d just started to step out of it while carrying the coffee pot, disappeared back into the house.

“Mrs. O’Connell told you.”

“It doesn’t matter who told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because Laddie and I wanted to wait a while before revealing it.”

“Why?”

“Because we wanted you to have a good understanding of how much she’s capable of doing. We wanted you to be. . .surprised, I suppose you’d say, when you found out that she can’t see. We thought it would help you gain confidence regarding your future.”

“Any thoughts I had about my future pretty much got blown up in that shack of Charlie’s.”

“I realize that. But as time goes on, you’ll start thinking about your future again with renewed hope. I wanted you to see that Laddie’s made a rewarding and full life for herself.”

“Is she happy?”

Adam smiled. “You’d have to ask her that question, but I think so.” The man sobered. “She has the same things you do, Joe.”

“What’s that?”

“A family who cares about her, and gives her whatever support she needs. A job where she’s valued and depended upon. A good sense of humor, and the ability to laugh at herself.”

“Well, I guess two outta three isn’t so bad.”

“Two out of three?”

“I don’t have a job yet.”

“You will.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me, big brother, but until the school board actually hires me, I don’t have a job.”

“Like I said, you will.”

“Time will tell I expect,” Joe shrugged, before taking the subject back to Laddie. “Was Laddie born blind?”

“No, but she doesn’t have many memories of when she could see. She was just three when she lost her sight.”

“How’d it happen?”

“She was ill with the measles, and ran a high fever.”

Joe nodded. High fevers were a common way children lost their sight, or their hearing, or often times both.

“Sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier that way.”

“If what would have been easier?”

“Losing my sight. If it would have been easier to lose it before I knew what it was like to see. Or at least before I had memories of what it was like.”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Depends on what mood I’m in.”

“That sounds like Joe Cartwright. Ruled by his moods.”

“Even six years can’t change some things, Adam.” Joe brightened. “Now on the other hand, if I’d never been able to see, I wouldn’t know what Pa looks like, or what Hoss looks like, or how serious you used to look when you were frowning over something I’d done that had you riled.”

“Which was so often it’s amazing my mouth isn’t permanently set in a frown.”

Joe laughed, while pushing his empty plate aside and standing. He must have sensed that Mrs. O’Connell was eavesdropping somewhere just inside the door, because he called, “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. O’Connell! It was wonderful!”

“Yer surely welcome, Joseph,” came the pleased response. 

As Adam held out his arm to Joe and led him down the six steps from the back porch to the yard, he admonished, “Quit flirting with her.”

“Who? Mrs. O’Connell?”

“Yes. Mrs. O’Connell.”

“Aw, come on, Adam, I can’t flirt with Hop Sing. Or at least not without the neighbors talking, so let a guy have a little fun, will ya’?”

Adam just shook his head while whistling for Shakespeare. The dog got up from where he’d been laying beside Adam’s chair, trotted down the stairs, and joined Adam and Joe as they started to walk around the grounds. 

As soft fur brushed against his fingertips, Joe said, “He seems to be a real calm dog.” 

“He is,” Adam agreed. “He’s got a pleasant temperament. He carries himself with an almost regal bearing, as odd as that sounds. He’s intelligent, too. We’ll take him for a walk in a little while if you’d like.”

“Sure. But don’t you need to go to the institute?”

“Not today. Today I’ve set aside to get you familiar with the yard and the neighborhood.”

“You don’t have to, if you’ve got more important things to do. I know you’ve been away from work longer than you probably should have.”

“Joe, when I left, I told the school board I’d be gone as long as my brother needed me. I made no promises as to when I’d return, so I think I can be gone one more day without the risk of losing my job.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Besides, the institute isn’t far from here. I thought we’d walk there with Shakespeare. A lot of the kids go home during summer break, but a number of them remain at the school year round, too. They love Shakespeare. A visit from him will brighten their day, while giving you a chance to meet some of them, as well as some of the teachers.”

“Well…okay. If you think it’ll be all right.”

“Of course it’ll be all right. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” Joe shrugged, as he walked a flower-lined stone path with Adam. “It’s not like I work there yet, and I don’t have a child who attends there, and–”

“And you’re my brother, so yes, it’s all right.”

Adam would have wondered why Joe had suddenly gotten so insecure, if it hadn’t been for the scolding he’d received from Laddie after Joe had gone to bed the previous evening. As was befitting for a woman of her class and upbringing, the scolding was gentle, but it got Laddie’s point across.

“Adam, I’d like to discuss something with you, please.”

Adam had smiled as he set his coffee cup on the little table to the side of the settee. 

“Whatever it is, you sound far too serious after the pleasant meal we’ve just finished, and you’re frowning, too.”

“As well I should be.”

“And why, pray tell, my dear lady, should you be frowning?”

“Adam, you were wrong to leave Joe alone by that bench today.”

All the lightness in Adam’s tone left then.

“Oh, Laddie, come on. He knew that bench was his anchor, and that’s where I’d be expecting to find him. If you’re going to frown at someone, it should be at Joe, not at me.”

“You’re his teacher, Adam, and his brother. His teacher and his brother both. You, more than anyone, should know better than to leave him alone during the first ten minutes he’s in a strange city, bench or no bench.”

“But you don’t know Joe. He’s got an independent streak a mile long. Five miles long, my father claims. Joe won’t stand for being babied.”

“I’m not saying you should baby him. I’m saying you have to be mindful that he’s in a city foreign to him, and that it’s going to be a while before this feels like home.”

“I realize that, but you’re blaming me for something that wasn’t my fault. He was the one who left the bench! He was the one who shouldn’t have chased those kids who took his wallet.”

“Are you certain that’s how it happened?” 

“Pardon?”

“Are you absolutely certain that’s how it happened?”

“Well. . .”

“Well, of course you’re not, because you didn’t let Joe explain.”

“What was he going to explain? That his temper got the best of him, and he ran after the boys like he would have if he still had his sight? I already know what happened, Laddie. I didn’t need an explanation.”

“I think you do. Actually, I know you do. And when you get that explanation, you’ll realize you owe your brother an apology.”

“An apology!”

Laddie gave a firm nod. “An apology.”

“Woman. . .”

Laddie had leaned into Adam’s shoulder then, “looked” up at him, and smiled. 

“Woman what?”

Adam sighed, then gave in and kissed that luscious mouth. “You’ll be the death of me yet.”

“But it will be a sweet death, won’t it?”

As Adam began kissing her more arduously, he’d murmured, “Oh yes. Oh yes, it will be.”

Now, as Adam walked with Joe beside him, Joe’s right hand resting lightly on his arm, Adam cleared his throat like he did whenever he had to “eat crow” – which fortunately, Adam didn’t deem necessary very often.

“Uh. . .Joe. . .”

“Yeah?”

“When we stopped at the police station on the way home yesterday, I didn’t hear what you told the officer who took the report about your wallet.”

Joe shot Adam a funny look. “I know. You didn’t come in the room with me.”

“Um, no. No, I didn’t, because I realize you’re perfectly capable of handling your own affairs. I didn’t want you to think I felt otherwise.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. That’s good. Uh. . .listen, if you don’t mind, why don’t you tell me what happened.”

Joe wasn’t any easier to fool now, than he had been when he was a kid. He scowled, though Adam thought he could detect a hint of amusement behind those furrowed brows and that cold stare – the facial expression reminding Adam so much of their father, he almost thought it was Ben Cartwright beside him. Joe’s response made Adam think of their father, too.

“Why didn’t you ask me yesterday, instead of accusing me of chasing those kids and leaving that bench on purpose?”

“I didn’t accuse you of leaving the bench on purpose.”

“Sounded that way to me. As though you thought I’d inconvenienced you on purpose.”

“You’ve been inconveniencing me on purpose since the day you were born.”

When Joe didn’t laugh, Adam nudged him. “I was only kidding.”

Joe smiled then. “I know. Just thought I’d make you sweat a little.”

“Already am sweating. This August heat gets to me after a while.”

“Then I thought I’d make you sweat a little more.”

“Which you’ve accomplished. So come on, how about it? Tell me what happened.”

“Not much to tell really. I felt a hand on my back, leading me away from the bench. I thought it was you, so I went along. I asked if you’d gotten us a carriage, and when you didn’t answer, I asked again. I still didn’t get an answer, and all of a sudden another hand joined the first one, and they started running. I was in-between them, so didn’t have much choice but to run, too. At the time, I still thought one of the hands I could feel belonged to you. I figured something was going on that you needed to get me away from, like a fire, or a runaway train. But then one of the kids took my wallet and I heard him laugh, and knew I’d been had. By the time they took off, I had no idea where I was. I tried to get help, but no one would stop until Laddie and Elliot came along.”

A silence ensued that was interrupted only by the birds chirping in the trees overhead, and squawking as they played in a birdbath a few yards up the path.

Adam finally broke the silence. “Joe. . .Joe, I’m sorry. I should have let you explain yesterday, instead of standing there yelling at you. It’s just that I. . .well, I was pretty worried, you know?”

“I know.”

Adam gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I kept wondering how I was going to explain to Pa that I’d lost you within ten minutes of arriving in Boston.”

In his best imitation of Hop Sing, Joe scolded, “Mista Cartlight be berry berry unhappy if you lose number 3 son.”

With a laugh, Adam agreed, “Yes, Mr. Cartwright would be.” 

“So did Laddie make you apologize to me?”

Now it was Adam’s turn to scowl. “Did you hear us talking?”

“Nope. Was sleeping like a baby not long after I went upstairs. It just seems like the kind of thing she’d do.”

“Let’s put it this way. She suggested that I give it serious consideration.”

“Then in my opinion, she’s the right woman for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That any woman who makes you apologize to me will be the perfect sister-in-law.”

“You’ve already got my housekeeper spoiling you. You don’t need a sister-in-law doing the same.”

“Adam, that’s your problem.”

“What’s my problem?”

“You have yet come to the realization that a man can never be spoiled by too many women.”

“At least not in Joe Cartwright’s book.”

“Especially not in Joe Cartwright’s book.”

“Well, it’s jumping the gun for us to be discussing sisters-in-law, so how about if I finish showing you the grounds, then I’ll go in and get Shakespeare’s leash and we’ll head over to the institute.”

“Sounds fine to me, as long as you don’t leave me hanging onto a bench somewhere.”

“Oh, believe me, Joseph, it’ll be a good long while before I leave you hanging onto a bench again.”

“Maybe it’s you who owes me candy this time, so I don’t tell Pa.”

“Wha. . .oh,” Adam nodded, realizing Joe remembered the incident at the traveling show, too. “Yes, I suppose I do owe you some candy. We’ll stop at the sweet shop on the way to the institute. Nothing will have you beloved by the students quicker than arriving with enough candy for everyone.”

“As long as you’re paying for it, big brother, I won’t argue.”

“I didn’t think you would, little brother,” Adam said, as he put his arm around Joe’s shoulders. “I didn’t think you would.”

Thirty minutes later, with Joe holding Shakespeare’s leash, the Cartwrights were headed out of Adam’s front gate, with Casey’s Sweet Shop slated as the first stop on their agenda, followed by the Boston Institute for the Blind.