78. Someone’s Missing 

“Adam! Sit back and be still!” Lilyah was seriously upset as she angrily pushed the pillow into his back while pressing her hand against his chest. Her dark eyes were glowering beneath furrowed brows. “We shouldn’t have allowed you to get up at all! You were only supposed to sit by the fire!!”

“Oh, please!” Adam threw her an exasperated look. “Lil, I’ve done nothing!”

“I wouldn’t call hauling heavy rocks around ‘nothing’,” Esma remarked dryly as she squatted next to him, pushing up the pants on his wounded leg. It almost looked like the pants’ leg couldn’t be pushed up far enough, but she eventually managed to expose at least the lowest part of the bandages.

Adam hissed a little at the pressure on the wound, but still retorted stubbornly, “The horse hauled the rocks, not me!”

“And who got the rocks on the barrow? Now don’t tell me it was Pico!” Lilyah bowed over the leg, impatiently brushing the folds and layers of her own garments out of the way. “Does it bleed through?”

Esma probed for the fringe of the bandage. “Not yet, but…”

“No, it doesn’t!” Adam cut her off, stubborn eyes darting from one woman to another. “The wound is healing just fine. It feels like it’s already weeks old.”

“You’ve only received it three days ago.” Esma pulled down the pants leg again. “And it won’t heal at all if you continue to jump up and down like an addlepated rabbit digging up an ant hill. Get his pants off, Lilly, I’m not going to cut them open again.”

“What?” Adam flared up. “The bandage looks perfectly fine!”

“Now would you put your hands away!” Lilyah’s eyes flamed up as she stared into his, her hands trying to pry his fingers open that he had clutched around his belt buckle. “Adam!!I’m warning you!”

Adam didn’t know whether to cuss or to laugh at her agitated and yet so worried face. Rolling his eyes, he caught sight of Pico who stood only a few yards off, still holding the bridle of the horse harnessed to the barrow with the rocks. “I really could do with some expert advice right now!”

“Oh…” The boy’s features turned into an expression of hardest thinking, but it seemed his expert knowledge had reached its limits. “I’m afraid you’re doomed.”

“Yah. Thought so.” Adam finally gave in and allowed his pants to be removed, watched with a knitted brow as his bandage was taken off and renewed. The wound had actually started to bleed again and he felt guilty seeing the sorrowful pain in Lilyah’s face. Maybe he really should’ve stayed put by the fireplace, watching sheep. But it was so hard, almost unbearable, to just sit there, with nothing to do but think.

“What did you want with those rocks, anyway?” Lilyah carefully applied the clay layer before she fixed it with herb-soaked bandages.

“Well, I just thought you ladies would appreciate some sort of hearth.”

“We will.” Esma handed Lilyah a dry bandage and folded Adam’s pants. “In a week or so.”

“Hey!” His head snapped up. “Don’t I get my pants back?”

Esma chuckled. “I think we’ll better keep them under lock for a while!” She placed the pants on top of her green crate, along with his gun belt, and turned to the boy. “And you get that barrow out of our sight and unharness the horse!” With this, she marched back to the cabin.

“Yes, Grandma.” Pico pulled at the reins. “Come on, Socks!”

“Adam…” Lilyah had finished the bandage and caringly covered a blanket over his lower body. “You really shouldn’t do any work, it’s too early for that.” She brushed over his cheek and kissed him. “Be patient, will you, love?”

“Lil…” He sighed and put his forehead against hers. “I can’t just sit around, thinking…”

She softly kissed his nose. “I understand… wait!” She jumped to her feet and scurried off to the cabin.

Adam’s mood brightened as she came back and placed the old guitar of the late Goran Dobrachev on his lap, his hands glided onto the instrument almost all by themselves.

“It will keep your mind and your fingers at peace.” Lilyah’s eyes were warm as she knelt beside him, watching him tuning the instrument. “Oh, Adam… what was that about ‘expert advice’?

“Aw, nothing…” He focused his gaze on the guitar, one eyebrow climbing up. Clearing his throat, he said, “He’s an expert, of sorts…”

“An expert? On what?”

Adam’s lips pursed and he gave her a look from under raised brows. “On women.”

Lilyah saw the spark dancing in his hazel eyes. “And you’re asking for his advice…?”

The dimples in his cheeks grew deeper and deeper as he looked into her face and dipped his head.

Lilyah started laughing. “Now that’s what I call reaching out for desperate mesaures!”

“Any port in a storm,” Adam quipped and chuckled as her lips touched his. “See my plight?”

“I’m shattered…” She responded to his playful kiss until laughter got the better of both of them.

A small smile played around the corner of Adam’s mouth as he watched her walking off to whatever duty or lesson she was looking forward to. His fingers softly strummed the guitar, with melodies beginning to form in his head.

* * *

It was barely three hours later when Pico’s alert call came from afar.

“Riders!”

The frantic barking of the dog sounded up at the same time as the canine came running from the direction of the entry rocks, no doubt sent off by the boy to alert the little group. Adam heard Lilyah calling out for Chai and saw the stallion galloping across the promontory, nearly running over a terrified sheep in his hurry to heed his mistress’s call coming from the pools.

Adam hastily put the guitar away and sat up, straining to reach the makeshift cane the women had placed too far away from him, biting a curse through clenched teeth as he remembered that his gun belt plus gun had been carried off along with his pants and his boots.

“Lil, no! Wait!!” He fought himself on his legs as he saw her galloping by on her unsaddled, unbridled horse, but she didn’t stop. She was in such a hurry that she hadn’t even grabbed a wrap to cover her bare arms – which said something in her case. But she hadn’t forgotten to get her bow and quiver.

“Lilyah!!” Adam nearly fell as he retrieved his cane. The pain seared through his leg, but it didn’t keep him from limping along as fast as he could.

But when he rounded the large elderberry bush blocking his sight towards the entry, he stopped and relaxed. While he could only see the tiniest glimpse of a round hat top bopping up behind the rocks, it was enough to bring a smile on his face.

* * *

“Hands over your heads! Nice and easy like!” Pico had readied his squirrel gun, pointing its barrel at the two riders. “Don’t you think I wouldn’t shoot at you cattle freaks!”

Hoss squinted. “Now you listen here, you sawed-off pipsqueak! You put that bean shooter down or…” He broke off as Little Joe knocked him in the ribs and watched in slight confusion that his brother obediently raised his hands. Only when Joe gave him a stealthy wink did he raise his own hands.

“Listen, stranger…” Joe didn’t know what was funnier – the expression on Hoss’s face or the obvious triumph on the little boy’s. “We’re just coming to visit our older brother Adam.”

“Your brother?” A wagon-load of suspicion swung in Pico’s voice.

“Joe! Hoss!” Lilyah brought Chai to a sliding halt, laughing with joyful relief. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying not to get shot.” His hands still up, Joe bent a finger to point at the boy.

“Oh, Pico, you can put that down. These are Adam’s brothers!” She was so happy, she could’ve hugged both of them had she not been on horseback. “This here is Little Joe and this very big man is Hoss.”

“They’re really his brothers?” Pico finally lowered the squirrel gun. “They don’t look anything like him!”

Lilyah smiled. “Well, you don’t really look like Ruby, either, do you?”

“No!” the boy exclaimed, aghast. “Thank God for that!”

She laughed. “Go tell your grandmother we have guests!” She turned to the brothers again who had lowered their hands, her eyes shining. “Come with me! Adam will be so happy to see you two!”

* * *

“My brothers!” Adam turned to Esma who nodded her head and placed her shotgun against the shrubs again, a small smile playing around her lips. She went for the spring to get fresh coffee water even before the boy had arrived.

Adam didn’t notice as he watched as the three riders slowly coming up from the promontory’s entry. His wife and his brothers… for one short heartbeat there was the notion that this image wasn’t really complete, but he brushed the thought away in a mixture of sobriety and stubbornness. Nothing could dampen his joy over seeing his brothers, anyway. Leaning heavily on the cane to ease his wounded leg, he refastened the blanket he had wrapped around his waist to avoid suddenly standing there in his shirt only. His eyes were laughing as the three riders approached with nothing but smiles on their faces.

“Hey Hoss, hey Joe! What took you so long?”

“Looky here – the hermit in the hills!” Hoss laughed all over his face and dismounted, covering the distance to Adam in giants steps to give his brother a hearty, yet careful knock in the side. “Nice skirt, older brother!”

“Like those old Greek poets in the history books!” Little Joe laughed and jumped from his horse, slapping Adam’s shoulder. “Hey, older brother!”

“Now that explains it!” Hoss guffawed. “Dang, Adam, told you all them books of yours would tweedle-doodle up yer brains one day real odd like.”

“Eh!” Adam heartily returned the knocks and slaps and punches. “Not my choice. The women took my pants away.”

“We had to!” Lilyah defended their action, still sitting on Chai’s back and enjoying the brotherly reunion. “He wouldn’t stay put.”

Little Joe stared at her, then at Adam and then he exploded. He burst out laughing so hard and loud that the horses threw up their heads and went backwards. Crowing and cackling, Joe staggered about with his laughing fits shaking him up, until he finally grabbed hold of Hoss’s shoulder. Literally crying into his brother’s shirt, he whimpered, “Women took his pants away…” and then started screeching with laughter again.

Hoss was laughing, too, but he still saw that Lilyah had slid from her horse and hurried to Adam’s side to support him. Guessing her thoughts and spotting the obvious bedstead near the fireplace, he took his older brother’s arms and Adam was back on his sickbed before anyone could blink. “There you go, older brother! Reckon you’re better stayin’ put nice and meek like now if you wanna keep yer shirt on.”

“Very funny!” Adam tried as best as he could to put on a miffed face, but he could neither hide his grin nor his happiness. His eyes were twinkling as he turned to Esma and Ruby who watched the scene with growing amusement, particularly Joe’s laughing fit. “Esma, Ruby – these are my brothers! Hoss here, and Little Joe there – ignore that condition of his, he gets those fits from time to time.”

“Ma’am.” Hoss tipped his hat. “Miss.”

“Ma’am… Miss…” Joe echoed, but it was barely more than a thin squeal. Still snickering with what little breath he had left, he let himself fall at the fireplace, wiping the tears from his face.

“I see.” Esma put the coffee pot into the fire. “If it gets any worse, we always have the pools.”

“Good thinking!” Adam laughed. “Oh, and this is Pico!”

“We’ve already met – howdy, Pico!” Hoss gave the boy a grin and then bent forward to have an examining look at Adam, his blue eyes fixed on his brother’s toes peeking out from under the blanket. “Now tell me, older brother, how’s the married life?” he asked with an innocent face. “You still have your boots on?”

“He doesn’t even have his pants on anymore…” Joe burst out and started cackling again.

“What have I ever done to be punished with you two?” Adam asked in feigned frustration, but his laughing eyes betrayed him. His dimples had grown so deep that his cheeks above them were shining, and his pent up laughter finally broke free. “Come on, Hoss, sit down!”

“Ah, no… wait, Adam.” Hoss went the few yards back to his horse. “Roy done told us you guys might stay here fer a while, so we’ve brought you some stuff we thought you could use. Ain’t like there’s any stores anywhere nearby. Joe, come help me here!”

“Adam, you stay put!” Joe scrambled to his feet. “Lily, if he causes you any trouble, you just take a pan and slam it over his head – that’s how it’s done!”

“Why, thank you, Joe, what a wonderful advice!” Lilyah laughed at Adam’s face and watched his youngest brother going for his horse. She hadn’t really noticed or paid attention before, but now she saw that both horses were heavily packed.

Hoss unfastened a larger satchel. “Some of your clothes, shirts and pants…”

“I’ll take that!” Lilyah was swiftly on her feet and took the satchel, causing the two brothers to knock each other’s sides and heehaw again. “Pico, be so kind and carry that to our chamber, will you?”

“Sure, Lilyah!” The boy jumped off with the satchel.

“I’ve got a big chunk of yellow cheese for you, Lily.” Joe unloaded his horse. “And a box of black tea. A side of bacon, three pounds of coffee, cooking oil, some pepper and a big, big bag of sugar.”

“Oh, Joe!” Lilyah smiled. “I’ve so missed having sugar in my coffee!”

“Now you’ve got fifteen pounds of it,” Joe quipped. “Hoss would only take the big bag. Told him it was too much.”

“Hoss!” Adam shook his head, but he was still touched. “Fifteen pounds of sugar…”

“You can never have enough sugar, older brother!” Hoss defended himself.

“He’s right,” Esma remarked with a smile and helped store the goods near the boxes a few yards from the fireplace. “Now we can make marmelade and syrup from the berries we gather.”

“And sweet cream and pancakes!” Ruby added. By now she had lost all of her initial cautious reserve and her eyes, black as her grandmother’s, were smiling.

“See?” Hoss exclaimed contentedly. “And here’s some ammunition ‘n stuff for you, older brother! Five pounds of salt and a sack of flour!” He hauled the sack from his horse. “Eh, Ma’am, better let me carry that.”

“I’m a big girl already, young man!” Esma retorted dryly and picked up the sack like it weighed nothing.

Hoss chuckled and turned to his horse again. “And finally a bag of onions and a box of eggs…” His chuckle faded and his face took on an expression of rueful displeasure as he squinted into the box. “Dadburnit! Looks like them eggs didn’t make it up here… where’s your junk heap?”

“Forget about the junk heap!” Esma took the box and turned for Pico. “Pico! You know your job!”

“Sure, Grandma! Get out the whole ones, clean them up and pick the egg shells out of the rest!”

“And wash your hands before you start!” she added and threw Hoss a look. “And before long, those broken eggs will turn into some tasty pancakes!”

Hoss’s face lit up again. “Now that’s sound good to me! I ain’t really had much of a breakfast today.”

Both his brothers started snickering.

“I hope you haven’t plundered the storage room at home.” Adam watched Lilyah happily filling up the sugar can and smiled to himself. She had always loved sugar in her coffee or her tea and hadn’t really enjoyed either one without it.

“Nah, been to Carson yesterday evening and bought the stuff.” Hoss pulled the saddle from his horse. Even though they could only stay a few hours in order to get back before nightfall, the horses had deserved some better rest than just standing around with their girths loosened.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Eh, what do you think of us, older brother?” Joe grinned. “We put it all on your tab anyway!”

Adam laughed out loud – now those were the brothers he knew so well!

Before long they all sat around the fireplace with fresh, strong coffee. Pico was still busy with the eggs and Esma and Ruby had settled a few yards off to prepare a meal. Lilyah had attempted to follow, but Adam had inconspicuously held her arm, motioning her to stay at his side. The days when he had kept things away from her were gone for good.

“So, what’s going on in that far, far away world down there?” he finally asked.

Hoss shrugged his broad shoulders. “Nuthin’ much, older brother… Sheriff’s done told you it was Frank Miller who shot at you. They buried him the day before yesterday.”

“He’d also hired those comancheros.” Joe just caught himself to not spit out in front of the ladies. He felt the gall coming up his throat whenever he thought of it.

“Yah.” Adam nodded his head. “I knew somebody had paid them. I just wonder what made him hate me so much.”

“Seems like he thought his father thought more of you than of him.” Joe blew a hiss. “Who wouldn’t?”

“If you ask me, that feller wasn’t quite right in his head,” Hoss grumbled. “There was sumthin’ real murky’ n muddied up in his brains, plum insane he was and mad as a hatter. Who in his right mind goes to any such lengths to kill off another feller just because his Pa likes him? If that ain’t mad, I don’t know what it is.”

“It also seems like he poisoned our cattle alright, just like Hoss’s said all along they were,” Joe went on. “And some of Simmons’s, too, for good measure.”

Hoss nodded his head, “The sheriff’s asked around in town and he’d bought up every box of rat poison and every ounce of arsenic he could get. Told everyone it was for the ranch but ole Henry said he’d never allow any poisons on his ranch ’cause of his cats. Still Frank had bought loads of the stuff anyways.” He took a gulp of coffee. “And I darn’t thinkin’ he almost got you in the end had it not been for Joe’s hunch. Frank Miller was a good shot, he wouldn’t have missed on that range.”

Both Adam and Lilyah raised their heads, neither of them had known Joe had been there.

“I diverted his first shot,” Joe explained. “But I probably couldn’t have kept him from firing a second. He almost knocked me out.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Joe…” Lilyah exclaimed. “I didn’t see him soon enough, I’ve only noticed him after he’d shot.” She felt Adam’s hand on hers, softly pressing it as if to assure her that he was alright. His eyes smiled as he gave his youngest brother a nod.

“Think nothing of it, Lily!” Joe regarded her with a good-natured grin. “By the way, that was a great shot! I didn’t trust my eyes when that arrow hit him. Ha!”

“And dang good it hit, too!” Hoss chimed in with a great deal of satisfaction. “He just sputtered some blood and some nonsense and that was the end of the rope for that nutcase!”

“Poor Henry, though…” Joe got serious again. “He looked like an old man at the funeral. He had no idea, Adam… he suspected something, but he wasn’t sure and hoped all the time he was wrong.”

Adam blew a sigh. He still remembered how grateful Henry had been after he had brought Frank home from his misguided, unlucky gambling spree in San Francisco. He shook off the thought.

“How’s Pa?” he finally asked, trying to make it sound casual.

Hoss and Joe exchanged an uncomfortable look.

“Sulking.” Joe shrugged his shoulder. It was the best word he could think of. “Never seen him like that before.”

“But we did…” Hoss looked from one to another. “We did, dadburnit! You guys remember when old Gabe got killed? About two years ago, when Pa had one of his many brawls with Barney Fuller again and got all fired-up whippin’ us along to beat him on that contract? Wouldn’t even let us fix that dang cracked block from the winch ’cause he wouldn’t spare the time and then that damfool thang broke and the whole lumber came crashin’ down killin’ old Gabe.”

“Yah, I remember.” Adam knitted his brow.

“And that’s jest how he’s like, the way he was after what happened to old Gabe!” Hoss gave a decisive nod of his head. “Mopin’, broodin’, sittin’ around’n brewin’ in his own juice ‘n lookin’ like he’s had a flea-riddled skunk’s skin fer breakfast.”

“Yeah, that just about covers it,” Joe consented. “But it’s different, though. When that happened to Gabe, he didn’t care for the ranch at all anymore and turned his back to it completely. Now he’s…” He broke off. How could he possibly tell his oldest brother that their father didn’t even want to hear his name anymore? Avoiding Adam’s eyes, he awkwardly helped himself to another coffee, searching for a different line.

“Now he’s all about the ranch and chores’n all.” Hoss helped out. “Whenever he’s lookin’ up he bellows sumthin’ about chores we’ve gotta do, and how we’ve got a ranch to run ‘n stuff. Chasin’ us all over the place real good, but he himself is just sittin’ there’n broodin’.”

“Yeah,” Joe twisted his mouth. “And he doesn’t even look. Sends us doing the same chores twice.”

Adam nodded his head, but his darkening mood eased when he felt the soft touch on his arm. His eyes warmed as he regarded Lilyah’s small hand gliding over his skin ever so lightly, inconspicuous enough not to attract anyone else’s attention and yet so comforting to his heart.

“Does he know you’re here?” he asked.

“Nope.” Hoss shook his head. “He thinks we’re on the northern pasture, checkin’ on the herd there.”

“The herd’s alright, though,” Joe remarked. “We’ve checked with Bill Morley.”

Adam bit his lower lip. “Maybe I should ride down…” He noticed Lilyah’s hand lying still and added. “… when my leg is better.”

“I don’t know, older brother.” Hoss moved his shoulders. “Reckon it’ll be better if you just lie low fer awhile. Seems like Pa just needs his own time fer broodin’ and all any one of us would do right now would be gettin’ in his way’n rilin’ him up even more.”

“Yeah…” Joe nodded his head. “Yeah, I think Hoss is right.”

“Yah.” Adam looked into his coffee mug. Maybe all he would achieve would be another fight, anyway. “Don’t get yourselves in any trouble because of me.”

“Aw, nuthin’ we can’t handle, older brother… Hey!” Hoss suddenly lit up and rubbed his hands together as two pans were placed on the fire. “I’m really starvin’ already, Ma’am!”

“Esma.” The old woman didn’t look up, but poured oil into the pans. “We have no Ma’ams and Misses among friends.”

A small smile played around Adam’s lips. He was glad that his brothers got along so well with the little group, and even more glad when the chatter turned to lighter subjects. Hoss and Joe wanted to know all about the great climb up the mountains, an endeavour both had not thought to be possible – not with a flock of sheep and four heavily packed horses. Joe’s recollection how his father’s posse had stormed the small valley so sure of their success just to find it empty caused laughter all around. After all, it had been funny how the men had wracked their brains trying to figure out where all the sheep had gone.

The meal consisted of savory pancakes with mutton chops and Hoss, especially, chowed in.

“Hmmm… Ma’am… uhm, Esma… that’s real good. Ain’t never eaten any better chops…hmmmm…” He wiped his plate with a piece of pancake and already looked out for another helping.

“Hold on to your plates, everybody,” Joe remarked dryly. “Nothing’s safe as long as Hoss is hungry.”

“Yah.” Adam assented. “There’ve been gruesome incidents in the past where he’d pulled the chunks out from between other people’s teeth.”

“Ain’t true!” Hoss took a hopeful look into the pans.

“Help yourself, big fellow!” Esma smirked. “We’ve got enough and we want those pans to be properly cleaned out.”

This was music to Hoss’s ears and he contentedly emptied both pans onto his plate, scraping out every last bit that was left. Only after he had done so, he looked around. “Ehm… anyone else wants some more?”

“See?” Joe started laughing. “Next time you let Lily do the cooking. That’ll curb his appetite!”

“Joe!!” Lilyah grabbed a small piece of wood and threw it at him across the fire. He laughed and threw it back, but hit Adam by mistake.

“Come on, both of you!” Adam grinned at his brother. “And you’d be surprised, little buddy. She made a wonderful stew the other day, and she baked very tasty bread in the morning!”

Lilyah beamed with delight over his compliment and threw Little Joe a triumphant look, but Joe merely snickered into himself. He still had the liveliest memories of hopelessly burnt beans and ruined pans in his mind.

Time passed much too fast and there were still so many things they would have liked to talk about, but as midday went by the two brothers had to think of the long way back. They still had not asked exactly how Adam and Lilyah had met after Adam had left the Ponderosa, but both Hoss and Joe silently decided to curb the question. Why bring up the painful days that had passed before? The couple was together again and it was so obvious that they were just happy with each other. Older brother looked so peaceful and content like they hadn’t seen him for ages, and the little lady, while she had lost some of the pomp and glitter of her dress, shone like only a happy young bride could shine. They apparently had made good friends, too, and the promontory didn’t exactly look like a sad exile. Particularly not when considering that both Adam and Lilyah had always had that uncanny desire to ride around in the wilderness – and Adam even had a guitar at hand.

“Tell you, Adam, if it weren’t for that dadburn bleatin’ I’d stay here myself.” Hoss hauled the saddle onto his horse. “Beautiful place!”

“Aw, you get used to it.” Adam pursed his lips as he threw a sidelong glance to the flock. “After a couple of days you just don’t hear it anymore.”

“Like the old grandfather clock, huh?” Little Joe fastened the girth of his saddle. “I only hear it when it stops ticking and needs to be cranked up.”

“Something like that,” Adam laughed.

“Hey, older brother, anything you need?” Hoss stepped up to him. “Ain’t sure when we can make it up here the next time, but if there’s anything, just spit it out.”

“There is something…” Adam looked up. “Lilyah still has her luggage at a way station, somewhere between Carson City and Tinker’s Hole, maybe even Coyote’s Creek. She left it there…”

“We’ll get it,” Joe promised. “Which way station is it?”

“That’s the problem – she doesn’t know.” Adam couldn’t help a small smile. “All she remembered from it was an old man and horses.”

“Ouch.” Joe pulled a face. “We’ll check for it – let’s just hope the luggage’s still there…”

“Oh, I think it is,” Lilyah made herself heard, slightly embarrassed that she had never asked for the station’s name. “One of the drivers said it would be a better place than any other to leave it there because the old man would be so honest and never touch it.”

“Hey!” Hoss’s face lit up. “That sounds like old Josh! I heard tell you could leave a thousand dollars at his place ‘n all you have to worry ’bout when you go back for it is to dust it off!”

“Yeah!” Joe exclaimed. “Lily, was it a skinny old man with white hair and a shrubby long beard and an old straw hat?”

Clueless, she shrugged her shoulders. All she remembered from that way station was her haste to ride back, to let Chai run and rush back to Adam… she looked into Adam’s face and noticed the warmth in his eyes. For one moment her own eyes threatened to get moist.

“Sounds like old Josh alright.” Hoss smirked to himself, having well noticed the look between the couple. “We’ll get your stuff for you, Lilyah. Anything else?”

“Yeah, while you’re at it – I could use my writing materials, pens, ink and paper. Just take it from my room, it’s all in the desk.” Adam looked around. “Lil? Esma? Anyone else need something?”

“We could use some lamp oil,” Esma remarked. “Ours will last no longer than a week from now. I could cook some from the mutton fat we have, but I doubt you’d want that smell in your chamber.”

Adam blew a laugh. “No. So some lamp oil it is.”

“And lamp oil you’ll get, along with your writing stuff and Lilyah’s luggage!” Hoss dipped his head and stepped forward as he saw Adam getting ready to get on his feet. “You stay put, older brother, don’t need you gettin’ up ‘n jumpin’ around.”

“And you sure wouldn’t want to lose your underwear, too…” Joe snickered and bent forward to slap his brother’s stretched out hand before he swingmounted on his horse.

“We’ll be back, older brother!” Hoss mounted as well and tipped his hat. “G’day to you lovely ladies. Esma, those pancakes were sumthin’ real good!”

Adam watched the good-byes all around and still fought himself to his feet as his brothers rode off, circumventing the elderberry bush to watch them heading for the promontory’s entry. Lilyah silently closed in on him and nestled to his side, her hand softly brushing over his back.

Adam smiled and put his arm around her to pull her even closer to him.

* * *

Ben Cartwright barely looked up when his sons entered the house. Reclined in his red armchair, a book on his knees, his pipe in his hand, he seemed like he was a thousand miles away.

“Uhm… we’re home, Pa,” Hoss announced the obvious.

“The herd on the northern pasture’s alright.” Little Joe unbuckled his gun belt. They had actually checked on the northern pasture after they had come from the mountains, had chased their horses through the darkness just so they could tell their father they had been there. With the result being that it now was close to ten o’clock.

“You’re late,” Ben remarked curtly.

Joe hesitated. “We’ve been to the mountains, Pa.”

“I’ve expected you back by afternoon,” Ben continued as if he hadn’t heard Joe’s words. “You’ve got to get up early tomorrow. I need you to check on the Bridger’s Mine tomorrow morning and then ride to Dayton to see Edward Whitmarsh there. I happen to know Barney Fuller is after the Whitmarsh contract and he’s not going to get it because the Cartwrights are dragging their feet!”

“Pa, we’ve seen…” Joe broke off as Hoss knocked him in the side. His head snapped around and the green eyes locked with the blue ones in a mute argument – an argument the blue eyes won.

“I sent Hop Sing to bed.” Ben barely looked up from his book. “I’m afraid you’ll have to do with cold roast beef in the kitchen.”

“Yes, Sir…” the brothers mumbled in unison and made their way to the kitchen. They would have taken any wager that their father knew exactly where they’ve been – the clock alone should have told him that. He should know them well enough. Maybe he didn’t mind. They didn’t want to think that he probably didn’t care.

Ben sucked at his pipe without really noticing that it had gone out, his eyes on the book that by now he knew inside out.

Goneril: You see how full of changes his age is;
the observation we have made of it hath not been little:
he always loved our sister most;
and with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off
appears too grossly.

“With what poor judgment…” Ben murmured.

“You’ve said sumthin’, Pa?” Hoss chewed with his mouth full, coming from the entry to the kitchen with Little Joe in tow.

“No… no, I didn’t.” Ben absent-mindedly fished for his tobacco pouch and began restuffing his pipe. “You go to bed, boys. It’ll be a long day for you tomorrow.”

Joe stopped chewing. That was one way to tell them they’re weren’t welcomed to stay around. But maybe Hoss was right and Pa was hurting. At least he wasn’t fuming over their being so late. Gulping down his bite, Joe turned to the staircase. “Night, Pa.”

“Good night, son.” Ben put a cinder to his pipe, lightning it without taking his eyes from the pages.

Regan: ‘Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever
but slenderly known himself.

“Oh, and boys – thank you for looking after the herd!”

The brothers stopped at the foot of the staircase, more confused than anything else. There wasn’t the slightest trace of sarcasm in their father’s voice, and this time it wouldn’t even have been unjustified. After all, they had just galloped up to the northern pasture in the unseemliest haste, taken a hurried and breathless look around and then chased their horses back through the night as fast as they possibly could. With mumbles such as ‘Sure, Pa’ and ‘Night, Pa’, Hoss and Joe fled up the staircase.

Ben didn’t really notice.

… yet he hath ever
but slenderly known himself.

Maybe he had just forgotten about himself, forgotten about the man who had chased his dreams all across the country, bitter by the loss of his beloved wife, angered by the poverty he had to endure, by the many setbacks and mishaps, driven by the fierce will to make his dream come true against all odds, to build something for himself and his boy. The boy he had dragged along all the way, the boy that was supposed to have a much better life one day. It was only Inger who had tried to step in between, tried to tell him that the boy needed a better life, a little slack right there and then and not somewhere in a distant future. But Inger’s time had been so short… much too short. She was gone before his boy had even learned to laugh and romp and play like other boys they had met along the way, boys whose fathers weren’t chasing any big dreams all so fiercely.

Without knowing, Ben’s fingers paged through the small volume until it finally fell open at the spot he had read so often now.

Edgar: The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us:
The dark and vicious place where thee he got
Cost him his eyes.

Edmund: Thou hast spoken right, ’tis true;
The wheel is come full circle: I am here.

Ben exhaled a cloud of smoke, watched it lingering in the air and slowly drifting off to the hearth.

Adam had broken the circle.

He wasn’t there anymore.

* * *