mmary:  Adam falls in love with a rather unusual young lady and has a lot of trouble come his way. While facing his father’s strong disapproval, he will have to confront his own deepest feelings and find out what he really wants in his life. Matters are complicated by an unknown foe who wants to destroy him, just as his struggle with his father comes to a head.

Rated:  T (128,600 words)

Story Notes:  Timeframe: End of the sixth season, here set in 1864

Warnings: If any, the size… it’s a long story that takes its time to unfold.

Extra warning: The story has a prologue which contains no Cartwrights – the ultimate sin in fan fiction writing, I guess It will be new for everyone as the WIP was posted without it, and hard as it might be for me to say this, you might as well skip it.The story starts twenty years after the prologue is set.

I’ve added it here to have the story truly complete.

Disclaimer: All characters/elements of Bonanza are the property of Bonanza Ventures Inc.. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  No copyright infringement is intended.

The Dreaming Eagle Series:

As it Began
Through the Shadows
Spreading Wings

 

The Dreaming Eagle — Book 1 — As it Began 

Prologue

Agadir, Morocco, 1844

“And all her perfumes with their scented arts – could not disguise the fetor of her farts.”

Rousing laughter followed the words, the children’s eyes were gleaming with mischief as they usually wouldn’t get away with listening to such unbecoming language and then have the audacity to laugh at it. But in this case, even the grown-ups laughed.

“Abu Ahmed, you old scoundrel, don’t tell the little ones such nasty tales!” the fat biscuit vendor from the neighboring market stall chided in good humour. “Find something more appropriate.”

The old storyteller smirked and took a long puff from his hookah, a legion of wrinkles forming around his eyes that had stayed as young as his face had gotten old. Hovering on his colorful blanket like the cobras dancing in their baskets when the snake charmers played their flutes, he gazed all about the group that had assembled around him. The souk was buzzing and rumbling much like every day, people shoving and pushing through the narrow paths between the stalls, donkeys and camels bawling over manifold chatter, chickens clucking and sheep and goats bleating, and the vendors tried their utter best to be heard in all this while praising their goods. But the space around his blanket was an oasis of rest, no one made attempts to go away, all the eyes were hanging on his lips, waiting for another tale to listen to and laugh and savor. Even the noise all around seemed to withdraw in awe.

“Now what should I tell you?” His long bony fingers alluringly drew strange signs in the air. “The tale of the proud donkey? Or the tale of the fearful lion cub? Or the tale of the dreaming eagle?”

“I want to hear the tale of the dreaming eagle!” a bright voice called out.

“Ah, a wish!” The storyteller spread out his arms and eyed the little caller, a wee girl of maybe six years, accompanied by a dark, tall man who had all the bearing of a proud father. For one moment his bushy grey eyebrow climbed up as he regarded the two horses whose reins the father held in one hand, while his other hand rested on the little girl’s shoulder. There seemed to be no boy belonging to him, and yet the tiny saddle and the short stirrups on one of the horses indicated it was ridden by a child. A strange thing indeed – but the saddles were rich, the horses exquisite, the girl adorned with precious silk and jewelry. The father, no doubt, was a nobleman and looked like he would spare a copper falus or two for a poor storyteller. “So the dreaming eagle it is.”

He waited until even the slightest murmur had ceased.

“In a land far, far away, there once was a cage wrought from purest gold – and in this cage there lived a big, beautiful eagle. He had lived there all his life, cared for and tended to by a good man who had once found him in the desert when he had just been a tiny little nestling, fallen from his nest, too little to survive on his own. The good man had brought him up, loved and pampered him, fed him the choicest meats and the tastiest sweets, as much as he ever wished to eat. He read to him from the Qur’an and sang to him the songs of the troubadours, and everybody thought how fortunate the eagle was to have such a good home.” He made a dramatic pause, his eyes beneath the bushy brows glided over his audience, over the spellbound faces of the children and the mild smiles of the parents. One of his knobby fingers rose in the air. “But – was the eagle happy?”

“I’d be…” a small boy remarked, “for the sweets…”

“But he was in a cage!” the little girl objected. “My father always says…”

“Shsh…” The tall, dark man pursed his lips in amusement as he stroked his daughter’s head.

The old storyteller rose in his seat and his threadbare djellabah stretched. “In the night,” he continued in a heavy tone. “In the night, when everything was silent, the eagle was dreaming. He dreamt that there was no cage, no walls, no house, there was nothing but sky, and he would glide through those skies, high above the earth, almost touching the clouds, relishing the beauty all around him, relishing a freedom he had never known. And he was happy when he dreamt. But when he woke up, the dream was gone, like a mirage in the desert, nothing but a blur that wasn’t true. And he sat in his cage and looked out of the small window, and a deep sadness grew in his heart that wouldn’t go away.”

“Aww…” Everybody’s eyes hung on the old storyteller who took another draw from his hookah, exhaling a cloud of smoke that wavered all about him.

“But then one day the eagle heard a chirp from outside the window and when he looked up, he saw a little sparrow sitting on the sill looking in.

“‘Good day to you, friend,’ cried the sparrow, ‘What are you doing in this cage? Come out and fly with me!'”

The children in the small crowd giggled as the storyteller had distorted his voice to a chirpy squeak for the sparrow’s part.

“‘What are you saying?’ the eagle replied. ‘I cannot fly as I’m not a sparrow like you are.’

“‘But you’re an eagle!’ the sparrow insisted. ‘Eagles do fly, they’re born to fly.’

“The eagle became very upset because he didn’t know how to fly, as he had never learned how to fly, and all that he knew about it was that it was a beautiful thing in his dreams, but like all those fancy dreams it had no place in his reality. At long last, he took heart and told the story of his life to the sparrow.

“‘Oh, but I know you can fly,’ said the sparrow and began flapping his wings, flying up and down. ‘Just do as I do’.”

And again the children laughed, as the old man began flapping his arms and hands, hopping in his seat to portray the little sparrow. They were enraptured by his performance and clung to his every word.

“The eagle tried to do as he was told, but his big wings were not used to flying and they would not carry him into the air.

“‘You need the open sky to fly,’ the sparrow suggested. ‘Let’s open this cage and walk out into the garden, away from the bars, and there it will work’.

“Together, and with lots of hustle and bustle, they managed to open the door of the cage and they went to the garden, but while the sparrow flew from plant to plant, the eagle could only walk.

“‘Oh, this is a tragedy’, cried the sparrow, who had never met a flightless eagle before and therefore didn’t know what to do. ‘I shall ask my good friend, the wind, for his advice.’

“And the sparrow flew high into the sky to meet the wind, while the eagle remained seated below, forlorn and sad. He didn’t believe the tiny sparrow could do much for him; and the wind was notorious for being nothing but a troublemaker, stirring up the sand and the dust and whirling about all the leaves in the yard. But the wind listened to the little sparrow and pondered the problem for a while. Then he finally said to the sparrow, ‘Go tell your friend, the eagle, to meet me on the top of the highest mountain where we are closest to Allah, who is my father, and there I shall give him the secret of flight.'”

This time, the grown-ups chuckled at the storyteller distorting his voice to a deep, hoarse hissing to mimic the wind’s speech, making it sound like the Sharqi winds rushing in from the desert, sweeping giant clouds of sand and dust across the plain lands, driving them into the villages and cities to bury everything beneath them, hissing and whirling through the streets. The children were enchanted by the story, breathlessly sucking in every word, their wide eyes following every movement of the storyteller’s lively fingers painting colorful images into their imagination.

“The sparrow happily flew back to the eagle and told him what the wind had said, but the eagle at first was reluctant and unwilling to climb up the high mountain, for it was quite a daunting way if you couldn’t fly. But the sparrow insisted and kept on pestering the eagle because he believed with all his heart that once they met the wind there, his big friend would fly. And the eagle finally relented and so they went on their way, through the widest deserts, and up the tremendous mountain slopes that were higher than the mighty Atlas mountains, and it was a hard and straining journey.

“And when they finally reached the top, the eagle was so exhausted from walking and climbing that he could barely stand, and even the sparrow was exhausted because he had never flown so high before. The wind blew all about them and called out to the eagle, ‘There really is nothing much to the art of flying, my friend. All you have to do is spread your wings and rise!’

“The eagle got very upset, even desperate, because this was what he had tried before and it hadn’t worked. He also became very sad, because he suddenly thought all hope was lost and he could never live like a real eagle at all.

“‘What is an eagle worth that cannot fly?’ he cried in pain. ‘I might as well end it all and throw myself from this rock to my death!’ And he plunged himself into the deep, deep abyss

“Oh, no!” the little girl exclaimed, her dark eyes wide with horror. “No!”

“Just wait…” Her father smiled as he brushed over her hair.

The old storyteller creased his face in thousand wrinkles as he looked at his enchanted audience, and his eyes twinkled. “But, as the eagle fell like a stone, the wind suddenly came with a whoooosh and swept under his wings, and carried him high into the sky. And when the eagle fully opened his wings, he realized that he could fly, for all he ever had needed was the wind under his wings. And he glided through the skies, high above the earth, almost touching the clouds, relishing the beauty all around him, and all the images from his dreams suddenly were real and true, reaching out to him and embracing him in their beauty – and he was truly free! And the little sparrow flew up and laughed, flapping his tiny wings as fast as he could. Oh, he couldn’t keep up with the mighty eagle, and yet his cheerful chirps followed him all through the sky. ‘I told you so,’ he cried, ‘I told you so – didn’t I?'”

“Oooh! I love this! How I love this!” The little girl clapped her tiny hands together. “Nobody should live in a cage!”

The fat biscuit vendor laughed. “Oh, but a lot of people have to. You will, too, when you’re grown up.”

“No, I will not!” She seemed very sure of herself. “I will be like this eagle. I will cross the widest deserts and I will climb the highest mountains, and then I’ll fly away and be free!”

“And how will you do all this with your little legs?” the storyteller asked with a chuckle.

“I have Jahdi. She’s my horse!” The girl proudly pointed to the white mare with the little saddle. “I can ride to the end of the world with her, and we can climb the highest mountains.”

“It’s a long way to the end of the world, and the mountains are much higher than you’d ever know.” There was an almost pitying tone in the storyteller’s voice. “It’s not as easy as you think it is, my precious, and many have failed trying to reach the unreachable.”

“I can reach everything with Jahdi!” The little girl was more than just confident.

The biscuit vendor started laughing again, laughing so hard that his belly wobbled along with all his many chins. “Would you listen to this! Now this little princess will surely get her wings clipped one day.”

“No, I won’t!” She stomped her foot and went to her horse.

A trace of sadness glided over her father’s face, but it was quickly removed by a chuckle as he saw his daughter straining to get in the saddle. With nothing to climb up upon, the back of the Arabian mare was a little too hard to reach for the diminutive six-year-old. He closed in on her and inconspicuously lifted her up, noticing with some pride that once in the saddle, she didn’t need any further assistance.

He mounted his own horse and maneuvered it close to the storyteller to throw a coin on the colorful blanket. “Thank you for your stories, my friend, and may Allah bless you!”

“I thank you, Sidi…” The storyteller bowed his head and his eyes widened as he saw the coin. It wasn’t a copper falus. It was a silver dirham.

He raised his head again to bless the generosity, but he just saw the two horses disappearing in the busy jumble down the street.

* * *

 

Chapter 1. The Black Arabian by Hooded Crow

Love imposes impossible tasks
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Though not more than any heart asks
And I must know a true love of mine

 

Twenty years later – Nevada Territory 1864

1. The Black Arabian

Adam Cartwright forced his chestnut to a rapid halt as a wild noise shattered the silence of the lonely meadow, causing the birds in the adjacent trees and bushes to flutter up with cries of alarm, causing his horse to throw its head and stomp nervously against its rider’s strong hands. It was the raucous scream of another horse, mingled with the distinctive hissing roar of an attacking puma – and the terrified outcry of a woman.

Adam’s eyes narrowed as they darted across the rock-covered hillsides climbing up from the fringes of the meadow, his every fibre tensed as he kicked his chestnut into a gallop to race up the slopes in the direction where he had seen the birds fly up. He fervently tried to recall the location, to figure out the possible site of the attack, lest he’d waste one single moment searching around in this densely scattered labyrinth of rocks and boulders. There wasn’t time to wonder how on earth a woman came to be in this remote wilderness, so far away from any settlement and any road.

The puma roared again, an aggressive screech piercing the air, followed by the shrill neighing of the unseen horse. No more sound came from the woman and the possible scenarios chased each other in Adam’s mind as he recklessly forced his chestnut to keep up the full gallop on the risky path scaling along massive groups of rocks, meandering through thick bushes and beneath overhanging rocks – each corner of it a perfect place for a mountain lion to lie in wait for unsuspecting prey. Even though the lack of any further sound from the woman bore a frightening prospect, she might still be in the saddle. Why else would the puma continue to attack the horse when a fallen rider would be a much easier prey? And he did attack the horse, as the furious screams of the equine proved.

“Go!” Adam angrily slapped his horse as the chestnut balked at the thorny underbrush, forcing the animal to break through the shrubbery that didn’t allow any view of the ground. “GO!!”

The chestnut broke out in sweat as he fought and struggled through the thick growth, eyes rolling and his mouth open in protest of the rude handling. Adam didn’t care. A life could be at stake. He urged the horse forward until they finally broke free from the thicket.

The puma literally flew in his way from behind another group of giant rocks, sliding across the ground, fighting for traction in its wild movement. Its fangs open, the huge cat roared in furor.

Wresting the chestnut to an abrupt halt, Adam readied his rifle to shoot, but as lightning quick he had been, he wasn’t quick enough to pull the trigger. Before he could even take aim, a big black shadow broke out from behind the same rocks and threw itself over the puma – kicking, biting, neighing, screaming. It took Adam almost a full second to grasp the scene in front of him; his jaw dropped as he watched. It might have been the puma that had attacked the horse, but now it was the horse attacking the puma – and the big cat fought for its life.

Adam had seen a lot of wild horses before, but he had never seen a horse fight like this. The small black head snapped forward like a snake, viciously biting chunks from the sand colored fur, then again rearing and crashing both front hooves onto the puma, whirling about itself furiously once more to hit the predator with its hind hooves, a pandemonium of untamed rage amidst flying dust and a flurry of black hair. What he could see in the berserk fight was that while the horse was unsaddled, it wore a strangely colorful bridle – indicating it was not wild. Adam slowly let the rifle fall when he realized he could not shoot without risking hitting the horse. The puma had no chance, anyway. Before long, the hard hooves were trampling on a dead body.

The black horse actually seemed to celebrate its victory, neighing proudly, tossing its head so that the unusually long mane flew. Snorting in both exhaustion and triumph, it slammed the ground repeatedly with one front hoof as if to say ‘I am the greatest!’.

It was certainly the most uncommon horse that Adam had ever seen, a slim and longlegged stallion with a rather short back and a distinguished arched neck. The small dished head had nostrils so large that they almost looked bizarre; the long forelock covered half of the horse’s face and the thick long mane must be a real nuisance for any rider. The oddest thing was the high set tail dock pointing almost vertically in the air, causing a part of the rather long and voluminous tail hair to fall over the croup and haunches. The colorful bridle was richly decorated with playful tassles and fringes, a likewise set of closed reins still lay on the withers. An Arabian horse? Adam recalled seeing such horses in a book, but he had never expected to see one here in Nevada territory.

The stallion regarded him with a bold glare before he turned around to disappear behind the boulders. Adam followed, drawing a sharp breath when he detected the small figure slumped on the ground. The woman whose outcry he had heard lay face down, hopefully only unconscious, all he could see were oddly wide and flowing robes, long dark hair and one small hand. A sort of wrap was half torn off her shoulder and beneath it he could see a large, bleeding wound. The stallion stood beside her and all wildness seemed to have fallen off of him as he gently nudged the woman’s body, nickering softly in an apparent attempt to wake her up.

Adam dismounted and started to rush over to her as all of a sudden the stallion gave a rough neigh and threw himself around, breaking into a sharp gallop towards Adam, as if he was about to run him over. Adam stopped dead in his tracks and instinctively straightened out, spreading his arms to make himself appear bigger, but he did not move one step back in front of the rapidly approaching horse. The stallion came to a sliding halt a few yards in front of him, in a cloud of whirling dust, tossing his dished head up and down, snorting aggressively, clearly threatening the man to not come any closer.

“Ho… easy, boy, easy…” Adam tried his best to sound as calm and soothing as possible. “Easy… I don’t mean any harm. Nice and easy…”

An even more aggressive snort was the answer, the small ears pinched so far back that they were almost flat to the head. The stallion stomped and bowed his neck, shook his long mane, reared up and did everything he could in an obvious attempt to scare the human away. He had some success with the chestnut gelding who timidly retreated to the edge of the woods, but the man dressed all in black just stood like a rock. The stallion angrily pushed the air through his nostrils and slammed his right hoof into the ground. Dirt flew in all directions.

Adam continued to talk to him, but realized more and more that it made no sense. The stallion might have been cautious to come closer, but he wasn’t exactly afraid – he simply was boldly determined to keep this intrusive human away from his fallen rider. Adam’s eyes narrowed. The unfortunate lady was still unconscious, probably badly injured, and there was no time to try and make friends with a horse. Yet, when he attempted to step further, the stallion reared and even feigned an attack.

“Boy, we don’t have all day.” Adam began losing patience, his eyes on the closed reins. This wasn’t a wild horse – it was a horse apparently ridden by a woman and also a horse that was most likely very well trained, since the colorful bridle didn’t have a bit – it was a hackamore. It required a lot of trust between horse and rider to ride without the control of a bit, and proved that this horse had to be very reliable and well broken. It wasn’t wild. Adam collected himself and calmly stepped forward to grab hold of the reins.

A moment later he found himself on the ground, thrown off his feet by a harsh blow from the stallion’s head. He heard the shrill neighing and saw the flailing legs of the rearing horse above him, rolling around he was back on his feet in a split second. Adam retreated a few steps and the stallion backed off, still stomping, a staccato of snorting breaths proving first signs of nervousness. Throwing his head, the stallion looked behind him where the woman still lay motionless, almost as if seeking her advice.

Pursing his lips, Adam picked up his lost hat and retreated further, up to the point where his chestnut waited. The black Arabian danced on the spot, watching him, the nervousness visibly fading in favor of obvious triumph – and then he moved backwards himself, closer to the woman, until he turned and walked to her, just to nudge her again in hopes of waking her up. His nickering sounded almost helpless.

Adam could not help but feel a wave of sympathy for the magnificent black horse that so boldly and faithfully protected his rider, in such an unusual demonstration of animal loyalty, but it was of no use. He could not possibly leave this lady alone, unconscious and bleeding, in the middle of nowhere. He twisted his mouth and took the lariat from his saddle. The stallion seemed to keep his ‘thus far and no further-line’ a good fifty yards from the spot where his mistress lay. If he lassoed him there and managed to wind the lariat around one of those trees, it would leave enough room to get past him to the lady, with no risk that the furious animal might hit her in his attempts to break free from the rope. Maybe he would even calm down once he was caught, yet Adam felt this was a vain hope.

He wasn’t much surprised that the stallion immediately rushed back to his defense line, once he had noticed the man walking over again. Adam raised his brow, almost in regret, as he watched the horse getting all riled up once again, stomping and dancing, hammering his unshod hooves into the ground, rearing up, threatening, snorting in utmost anger upon this pestering human who quite obviously hadn’t learnt his lesson.

“Sorry, boy, I really am…” Adam got the lariat ready and threw the noose when the horse reared. He was quite a good roper and shouldn’t miss at so close a range.

His eyes widened when the black stallion crashed to the ground, throwing himself sideways, a stunningly quick reaction by a horse that had met a noose once too often and learned how to escape it. Adam saw the huge body rolling around in a cloud of dust, saw the legs hitting the grime to get up, but before he could ready the lasso again, the horse was back on his legs and attacked. This time it was Adam who had to throw himself out of harm’s way, but unlike before, when the stallion’s rearing had more or less been a demonstration of power and an attempt of intimidation, it was now a serious attack. Adam saw the black body rearing above him; he rolled around as fast as he could and heard the front hooves crashing into the ground, only inches from his head, slinging bits of dirt and stones in his face. The stallion screamed as he reared up again and Adam flanked sideways to escape the second attack, making it out from under the deadly hooves by a hair’s breadth. Catapulting himself out of the danger zone, he realized that the stallion hadn’t followed any further.

Adam breathed heavily as he got back on his feet. The stallion stomped and snorted, all muscles and sinews tensing and twitching under the dust-covered black coat, the long strands of his mane flying about his tossing head. Adam saw the flat ears and the white in the animal’s frenzied eyes and he knew that the stallion wouldn’t give up.

His hazel eyes turned dark. And he slowly drew his gun.

* * *

 

2. A Strange Lady

The gun in his hand, Adam calmly walked up to the stallion as far as he could without getting attacked, which was little more than five yards in front of the agitated animal. The black horse snorted and it sounded almost like a growl, his right front hoof hammered aggressively on the ground.

“Alright, boy, let’s see how you take this.” Adam raised the gun and fired two shots in quick succession, very close to the horse’s head.

The stallion nervously jumped backwards, throwing up his head and desperately fighting with himself, torn between the instinct to run away and the will to attack again. Adam slowly followed, crossing the invisible line that the stallion had so vehemently defended. The horse stomped and bucked and Adam fired another two shots. He almost felt sorry – and shamefully unfair. Yet he was on his guard as he quickly and mechanically reloaded his gun. The stallion was dangerous, he could still trample all over him and his revolver’s caliber might prove insufficient for striking down a creature that big once it decided to charge at so close a range. Adam noticed the film of sweat on the horse’s shoulders, he could literally smell the mixture of fear and rage steaming from the heated body, he saw the frantic rolling of the eyes, but still the black Arabian did not run. The fear of the noise obviously wasn’t big enough to completely erase his aggressiveness and determination.

“Chai!”

Adam started when he heard the female voice, his eyes flew over to the woman. She had barely moved and seemed to have trouble even turning around. But she doubtlessly had regained consciousness.

“Chai! Chai, come here…”

The black stallion got visibly nervous and began to move backwards until he reached the woman. She painstakingly tried to lift herself up, but broke down again, her fingers clawing the earth for another attempt. Adam stored his gun away and tried to approach her, but the black horse immediately jumped up to him, blocking both his way and his sight.

“Chai, what is it?” A trace of fear swung in the woman’s voice.

“Lady…” Adam took a deep breath, his hands clenching to fists as he took a side step to look past the stallion. “You had an accident! I’m trying to help, but…” He hesitated. What an incredibly stupid thing to say. “… your horse won’t let me.”

She laboriously turned on her side and tried to get a look at him. Adam pressed his lips together when he saw the bleeding wound at her temple and the obvious weakness of her body. Her right shoulder was soaked in blood. The puma must have jumped onto her back from the rocks above and threw her off her horse, and while falling she most likely had hit her head on one of those stones lying around everywhere. Adam took one step more and the stallion promptly acted up again. The threatening posture and the flattened ears clearly revealed that his worst fear was gone and likely all but forgotten.

“Chai, stop it. Come here.”

The horse obeyed, albeit reluctantly, slowly retreating to the woman while still shaking his long mane, the swishing of his voluminous tail revealing his displeasure. But he did not attack, nor did he stomp so close to the woman’s body, he even lowered his head to let her touch his nose.

“It’s alright, Chai, good boy…” she murmured while her eyes looked up to the dark clad man. He was tall and muscular, immense from her perspective, yet he did not frighten her; something in his face seemed to suggest he could be trusted. He would help.

His eyes on the black stallion, Adam slowly came closer and as the horse did not move, he cautiously crouched on his heels beside the young lady, trying to ascertain how badly she was wounded. For one moment he almost forgot the horse – she was a strikingly beautiful woman. Neither the blood nor the signs of pain on her small face could detract from her strangely serene beauty. For one seemingly endless moment he looked into a pair of big, dark velvet eyes.

The endless moment ended rather abruptly when the stallion snorted straight into his face, pushing his black head so close towards Adam that he nearly knocked him over, the long forelock brushing across the brim of Adam’s hat. There was no doubt that he still wasn’t very fond of the man’s presence and Adam’s love for fine horses briefly dropped to an all-time low.

“Chai, behave yourself.” Her small hand strained to gently push the horse’s nose away while her eyes still looked up to Adam. “What is your name?”

“Adam… Adam Cartwright.” He shot an exasperated look at the horse.

“Cartwright…? Adam… Cartwright? Not…” For one split second her brow furrowed as if something in the name seemed wrong to her, or at least unexpected. But then she seemingly shrugged it off and her eyes wandered to her horse. “Chai, look, this is Adam…”

“Lady…” His eyebrows moved up. “We have a ranch about an hour from here, the Ponderosa. I’d suggest we postpone any introduction ceremonies until we get there. And now let me have a look at your shoulder; we must stop the bleeding.”

“But you don’t understand.” Her eyes seemed to be pleading with him. “I don’t think I can stay awake.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to a doctor.” His eyes wandered across the amazing amount of drapes, robes and wraps around her. “Is it alright if I tear this up for a bandage?” He did not wait for an answer and began to tear up a shawl. The danger he saw too late and the next moment he was rudely pushed on his back, the already familiar growling snort telling him that he had forgotten about someone.

“Chai, behave yourself!” She gave Adam an apologetic look. “You see? He won‘t let you; and I feel so dizzy… If I pass out, you’ll have a problem.”

“Yah.” He pulled himself up and twisted his lower lip. A problem alright, a big, black, long-maned snorting problem. He drew a deep breath and sighed, and with a rather resigned, wry smile he asked, “And what do we do about it?”

She looked up in his face. He had good eyes, beautiful eyes, hazel green with brown rays – angel eyes. She could trust him… She had to trust him when she could feel her consciousness threatening to fade.

“Chai, come here.” Her hand tapped the ground at her other side opposite of Adam and he was surprised to see that the stallion obediently moved to the designated spot. What a contradiction this horse embodied – the unruly wildness on one hand and the affectionate devotion on the other. What he did not like at all was the sight of her small body so close to the horse’s hooves. How easily could she be kicked and injured even more. But hadn’t the stallion been surprisingly careful about this before?

“At least put that against your back.” He handed her the parts of the shawl, trying to remain calm. “You’ve lost a lot of blood already.”

She obeyed and it hurt him to see how painful her movements were, how her small face grimaced with the strain. Everything inside of him revolted against all this, his common sense protested, his hands itched to do something. He should tend to her wounds, and then she needed a doctor and she needed one fast. He didn’t like the look of the head wound nor the unhealthy shimmer of dizziness in her eyes. But the black horse represented a problem he could not ignore.

“Give me your hand…” She reached out for his left hand and he let her have it, watching her putting it on her chest and slowly starting to rub it. He took another deep breath but he realized what she was doing – getting the stallion used to his scent.

“Chai, look here – this is Adam.” Her hand lightly tapped Adam’s. “Here, Chai – Adam! Come here, it’s Adam!”

The stallion gave a very sour snort and reluctantly stretched his neck. His muzzle touched her hand but pulled back as soon as he got the unappreciated scent of a stranger. She put her own hand on Adam’s.

“Now look, Chai – Adam! Adam is a friend.” She softly went on like this until the stallion finally touched her hand again without pulling back when she removed it, leaving his muzzle to touch Adam’s hand instead of hers.

“Chai, you will listen to Adam, you hear me? You will listen to Adam for as long as I am ill, and you will do as he says! I’m serious, Chai!”

A moody snort was the answer and Adam sent a helpless look into the heavens. On any other occasion he might have humorously played along with such an unusual demonstration of horse training, but in a situation as dire as this it was nothing but irresponsible. They were wasting precious time, and yet, much to his chargrin, there was nothing he could do about it.

“You will listen to Adam, Chai, and you will behave yourself!” Her breathing became ragged and it was quite clear that her powers were about to fail her. “You will be a good boy, Chai! Because Adam will tell me everything you do and I… don’t want to hear… complaints…”

“Lady, that should do now.” Adam could not hold back any longer. “It seems that he has calmed down and…”

“Wait, let us first see what we have learned… Chai!”

Adam knitted his brows and tried to fight down his increasing restlessness as she pushed his hand from her and turned all her attention to the horse again. “Go, Chai, go!” She weakly waved her hand and the stallion blew and moved backwards until he was about fifteen yards away.

“Alright, Chai! Now – where is Adam? Show me Adam! Adam, Chai! Show me!”

The stallion nickered and jumped forward, nuzzling all over Adam as if they had been best friends forever. Her face broke into a wide smile that touched Adam’s heart and for one moment even managed to set off his growing uneasiness about the time they were losing, about the unattended, bleeding wounds, about all this utter ludicrousness. This smile changed her whole expression to a lightness he would not have expected on these serene features.

“That’s my boy! Good boy, Chai, good boy…” She softly caressed the horse’s head and the smile was still on her face when she turned to Adam. “You can handle him now.”

“Hmm… yah.” Adam was not quite sure how to react to this revelation, sending a skeptical look from the now so peaceful horse to his proud owner. His face must have spoken volumes because her smile faded away, or maybe it was just pain and exhaustion that began to take their toll.

“You will take care of him, won’t you?” Her voice suddenly sounded so fearful that he was perplexed. Her dark eyes were literally begging him. “You see, he is not just a horse. He’s my friend, my best friend! I’ve had him since he was born. I raised him with a bottle… he’s my baby!” Her hand touched his. “Please take care of him, please…”

His face softened and the wink of an assuring smile appeared in his eyes. “I’ll take care of him, I promise! Don’t you worry about it.”

Her eyes lit up and a shade of her smile returned to her face, albeit toned down by the apparent pain she had to be in. This whole odd ‘initiation ritual’ must have cost her her last strength. Adam shook off his enchantment and carefully tried to turn her around. “Come on now, let me look at this shoulder.”

“Wait!” She took a deep trembling breath. “There are some things you must know. Don’t tie him down and don’t use ropes, you don’t have to.” It took her considerable effort to remain conscious. “He will follow you and he will… always stay around where I am, anyway. He won’t run away… and always address him with his name when you talk… to him… he must know you mean him, or he won’t take you seriously…” She seemed to summon her last strength and did not let him get a word in, ignoring his soft attempts to stop her. “…if he is bad, sternly say ‘Chai, stop it’ or ‘Chai, behave yourself’. He knows exactly when he’s doing wrong, it is just that he thinks you wouldn’t know… and… don’t try to ride him, he won’t let you. And… don’t put him in a small box, he hates that… and… and…” She lost consciousness.

Adam breathed a deep sigh and shook his head before he finally got to tend to her badly clawed shoulder, scolding himself for letting all this nonsense get in the way of the seriously needed help. Even though one look at the black horse should have been proof enough that there simply wasn’t much he could have done about it.

The stallion stood calm and peaceful, watching everything Adam did with attentive eyes. Even as Adam cautiously moved to pick the young woman up from the ground, he didn’t misbehave, only his ears rotated back and forth, proving his still present alertness.

Adam wrinkled his brow as his eyes fell on the rather unusual object made from carpet and leather that he had seen before without paying much attention. Now that the lady’s wide robes were lifted from it he could see the stirrups on both sides, clearly defining the thing as a saddle. The form indicated that she must ride her horse astride, which seemed rather odd considering her long flowing robes. Two carpeted saddle bags and a sheath showing the handle of some sort of dagger further incited his curiosity. For one moment he was tempted to examine everything, but one look in her ashen face brushed all thoughts of that away. They had lost enough time already – and he just hoped they would not come to regret it.

The stallion followed him as he carried the young woman to his chestnut gelding and with some effort managed to mount the horse with her. It was just then that it occurred to Adam that he did not even know her name, nor where she came from, nor what she was doing on Ponderosa land. But at least he knew that her horse had been bottle-fed…

Grumbling under his breath, he nudged the chestnut into a light gait and was not even surprised that the black stallion stayed at his side, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
* * *

 

3. Arrival on the Ponderosa

“Hey, it’s Adam!” Little Joe Cartwright yelled out so loud that it was quite clear to his father and brother inside the ranch house that something unusual must have occurred.

“Hey, Adam, who’s this?” Joe rushed to his oldest brother who just slid from his chestnut horse, the limp figure in his arms.

“I don’t know. Joe, ride to Virginia City and get the doctor. And ride fast!”

“Something I should tell the doctor?” Joe was already in the saddle of his black and white pinto.

“Yeah, puma attack and a severe head injury! Hurry!” Adam did not even look as his youngest brother raced out of the yard, but headed for the house. The young woman had not regained consciousness even once during the long ride of well more than an hour, and he had gotten increasingly worried. He had contemplated the idea of riding to Virginia City with her himself, but that would have been another two hours from the ranch since he could not ride very fast carrying the lady. It would have been too much. It was better to let her rest and wait for the doctor.

Ben and Hoss Cartwright came out of the house, but while Hoss ran up to his older brother, Ben stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock. He did not see his oldest son nor the woman in his arms – all he saw was the black Arabian stallion standing in the yard. His jaw slowly dropped… it could not be! It just could not be. He never thought he would ever see that horse again…

“Pa, look, Pa, Adam has…” Hoss broke off when he saw the expression on his father’s face. “Pa, what happened?”

“Will anyone please care to help?” Adam’s usually soft baritone sounded as sharp as a knife. “I’ve got a seriously wounded woman here!”

Ben Cartwright slowly recovered from his shock. This could not possibly be. It had been almost forty years since – 38 years exactly. No horse could get that old… it simply was a lookalike. There was no way that this was the same horse the almost forgotten memory of which had erupted with such sudden force, it would be impossible. He took a last look at the black stallion who seemed to notice quite well that he was the center of attention. He stood there like the king of the world and proudly gazed back at the grey-haired man, slamming his right front hoof into the ground. Ben Cartwright heaved a sigh and realized that both his sons had already disappeared into the house. He shook his head and followed.
* * *

 

“Pa, Adam has brought her upstairs; he thought it would be better to not move her around so much.”

“Brought whom upstairs?”

Hoss’s blue eyes showed concern. “That strange young lady… Pa, you alright?”

“Yes, yes…” Ben Cartwright shook off the last effects of a totally unexpected shock and noticed Hop Sing running out of the kitchen and up the stairs with a bucket of apparently hot water. How long had he been standing there staring at that horse?

“What happened, Hoss? Adam brought a woman in? Where from? Did she have an accident?”

“She was attacked by that puma Adam was after, up in them Willow Creeks. Seems she was all alone there; Adam picked her up and brought her here. Joe’s gettin’ the doctor.” Hoss lifted his broad shoulders and dropped them. “She’d hit her head real bad and don’t wake up. Adam’s mighty worried ‘bout her.” He made a sorrowful face. “‘cuse me, Pa, I gotta get some more water.”

Ben nodded and went upstairs, approaching the guestroom just as Hop Sing came out with his arms full of all kinds of colorful fabrics. “Stlange lady vely sick, and all dless vely bloody! Have to wash now or blood neva get out and all plishous silk luined! Mistel Hoss get new watel, Hop Sing busy!” The stocky Chinese cook did not wait for an answer and rushed down the stairs.

Adam did not look up when his father entered the room; sitting at the side of the bed, he was trying to clean the blood from the long dark hair. He went about it very carefully, so as to not touch the bad looking wound at her temple that was only loosely covered.

Ben looked down at the young woman and felt a rather strange feeling, almost a stab. It wasn’t exactly dislike but there was something in her slender, serious face that did not sit well with him. He could not really put a finger on it. Maybe it was the refined but slightly arched nose, the all-too-high forehead or just the outlandish, sphynx-like impression that reminded him of an owl. Her skin seemed unnaturally pale right now, greyish even, but it was still apparent that her complexion was rather dusky and far too dark to be of European origin. Her long curled hair was of an ebon brown that almost appeared black. Maybe she just reminded him of something that he did not want to be reminded of.

He almost flinched when Hoss suddenly appeared beside him. His middle son was usually exactly the clumsy grizzly bear that people took him for, but when he had to, the 260 pound giant could move like a gazelle, neither making a sound nor moving a breeze.

“Adam, you need more water?” Hoss whispered.

Adam shook his head. “All we can do now is wait for the doctor.” He drew a deep breath. “She just doesn’t come to…”

“Maybe better so.” Hoss touched his brother’s shoulder. “Saves her a lot of pain I reckon.”

“Yah…” Adam looked into the pale and silent face and suppressed the wish to touch it. She was such a beautiful woman, even in her deep unconsciousness. He could not wait to see her awake and well, and he wanted to see her smile again.

“Where do you reckon she comes from?” Hoss asked in a low voice. “You think she’s a gypsy, or an Indian? I mean an Indian Indian… from India that is.”

“No, I don’t think so.” A shade of a smile appeared on Adam’s lips, his eyes scanned over the rather exotic fabrics of her robes. Those dresses certainly did not look as if they came from any general American lady’s garment shops. The saddle came to his mind and he pondered for a moment whether he should ride and get it; he could well be back before the doctor was due. But no matter how it itched him to get that saddle, and especially the saddle bags, he forfeited the thought. If she came to there should be someone around whom she knew – or who at least wasn’t a total stranger.

“What the…”

A raucous neighing shrilled over the yard outside, immediately followed by the noise of shouting men and crashing wood.

“Oh no!!” Adam hissed between his teeth and jumped up to run out of the room as if the devil were after him. Ben and Hoss exchanged a look and followed in a haste.

They came just in time to see one of their ranch hands running for dear life, throwing himself under the buggy that Ben had used earlier in the day – and the black stallion crashing down on that same buggy with all his weight, causing some considerable wreckage. Two more men tried to rope him, but had to run from the flailing legs themselves as the horse whirled about in lightning speed, ready to kick and bite. The stallion screamed out his rage and reared high up, furiously looking around for another victim to attack. The three cowboys, all experienced horse wranglers, were experienced enough to cautiously jump backwards, to not provoke another attack.

Adam closed his eyes for just a moment, then he took a deep breath and thundered, “Chai! Stop it!!”

He could not really believe it, but the stallion immediately stood still and gazed over to him.

“Chai! Come here!”

The black horse nickered and trotted up to him, even giving him a rather friendly blow.

“Good boy, Chai…” The rest of the praise kept stuck in Adam’s throat as he realized that everybody was staring at him. He flashed his teeth in a rather sheepish grin while sending a frustrated ‘Why me’ look heavenwards. “Uhm… yah…” He cleared his throat and reached for the reins that still were over the stallion’s withers, noticing that they could be unclipped into two. Turning one of those colorful tassles in his fingers, he gave the black horse a queer look. What a fine mess he had gotten himself into, promising the nameless lady to take care of her baby… The stallion blew a snort and proudly shook his voluminous mane. And still everybody was gaping.

“Alright…” Adam cleared his throat again. “Just one thing to say: Nobody touches this horse but me!”

“But, Mister Cartwright.” A man called Higgins stepped forward. “That horse was running loose, and…”

“I know he was running loose, and it’s alright for him to do so. Just leave him alone and it’ll be fine!”

The man shrugged his shoulders, pulling a face as he turned to leave. “Whatever you say, Mister Cartwright.”

“Make sure that word gets around!” Adam had finally recovered his cool. “So that no one else gets himself into trouble.”

“Adam!” Ben shook his head, shaking off another picture that had violently erupted in his memory, like an unwanted, unappreaciated reminder that he wanted no part of. “That is quite a dangerous animal. You cannot let such a beast run loose!”

“He’s not dangerous, Pa. As I said, just leave him alone. I take full responsibility for him.”

“You can’t be serious about that.”

“But I am!” Adam sighed. “Pa, he’s just a bit spoilt, but good natured. He’s likely used to some amount of freedom and I surmise he’s not used to have strangers handling him. I’ll put him on the meadow behind the house and as long as he’s left alone, it’ll be alright!” In an attempt to soften his tone he added, “And don’t worry, I’ll see to it that the buggy gets repaired.”

“Adam, you put that horse in the barn, right now! I just don’t want to see this critter running around here, do I make myself clear?” Ben’s voice sounded harsher than he intended it to.

“Pa, I don’t think…”

“You do as I say!”

A glimmer of anger showed in Adam’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Biting down the words, he led the stallion into the barn.

Ben turned away. He still couldn’t look at this horse without all the long forgotten shadows coming up again. By God, he wished Adam hadn’t brought that animal in, nor that woman in the upstairs bedroom.

“Dadburnit, Pa, ain’t that the funniest horse you’ve ever seen?” Hoss walked up to him, smiles all over his face.

Ben did not trust his ears. “Funny? What is funny about this horse?”

“The whole horse!” Hoss’s blue eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Just look at that tail stickin’ up in the air like a flagpole! And then he plum looks like one of them Daddy Long Legs spiders, and he jumps around like a grasshopper!” His grin got even broader than before. “And on top of it all they call him ‘SHY’! Yeah right, that’s just what he is – SHY!”

“Very funny.” There wasn’t the slightest humour in Ben’s voice, and Hoss shrugged his shoulders as he followed his father into the house.
* * *

 

“The mare’s stall. Four times as large as a normal box.” Adam opened the gate. “I hope that’s big enough for Your Highness.”

The black stallion stopped and snorted. He clearly wasn’t all too fond of being stabled.

“Come on!” Adam took hold of the hackamore and attempted to force the hesitant horse into the stall, but Chai half-reared and moved backwards.

“Boy, I don’t like it any more than you do, but it seems your lovely lady has us both stuck in this. So I suggest we just try and get along, alright? Now come!”

The stallion neighed and flat out refused to go into the spacious stall, giving Adam a hard time to keep him in the barn at all as he constantly bucked backwards. Yet there was no aggressiveness in his behaviour and Adam surmised that Chai was just trying out how far he could go.

“Chai! Behave yourself!”

He arched an eyebrow when he saw the look in the horse’s eyes. Chai clearly had been trained to react to certain phrases which were more powerful than any physical force could have been – and now he gazed at Adam as if to find out if he could possibly afford to ignore his word.

“Chai – if you don’t behave, I’ll have to complain about you!”

The stallion threw up his head – and strutted haughtily into the stall, all by himself.

Adam amusedly pursed his lips as he removed the hackamore and provided a good load of hay.
* * *

 

4. The Saddle 

“Doctor, what do you say?” Adam stood by the hearth in the great room, the only one of his family who was not comfortably seated around the lowly glimming fire.

Dr. Keefer ran a hand through his white hair and returned Adam’s look. It seemed the young man had overcome his consternation about being thrown out of the bedroom when the doctor had gone to work. How strange he had needed to be asked to leave at all. That was something the old doctor might have expected from the ever so nosy youngest Cartwright son, but not from the normally so refined and reserved oldest.

“She’ll be alright, but it will take a good time. She has a severe concussion and she’s lost a lot of blood; it will take several weeks for her to recover. Oh, thank you, Joe!” He gratefully sat down on the blue armchair and took the cup of coffee the youngest Cartwright had offered him. “She should stay in bed for at least two weeks to give the wounds on her back time to heal!” He sighed. “I’m afraid she might keep some scars… But, with a little luck, they’d be in a spot where they won’t be visible, as long as she doesn’t wear a very low-necked dress.”

“Did she come to?”

“Only for a few moments, Adam. I gave her a strong sedative that will make her sleep at least until tomorrow evening. This is better for her! I’ll be here again by that time.”

“Anything we can do in the meantime, Rob?” Ben had been reading in his big red armchair, trying to divert his mind. It had been a full, long day.

“No.” Dr. Keefer shook his head, “Just let her sleep. She was very lucky, though! If the puma had clawed her further up at her neck or even her throat, everything would have been too late.”

“Doggonit!” Hoss shook his head. “It’s a good thing that Adam shot that dang cat!”

Adam looked up. “I didn’t shoot the puma.”

Hoss gave him a startled look. “But you said the cat is dead.” His eyes became round. “Did that little lady…”

“No.”

If Adam had hoped no one would be interested any further, he was wrong – everybody looked at him.

“So the puma still roams about,” probed Ben, realizing his son’s uneasiness.

Adam drew a deep breath. “No, the puma is dead alright.”

Little Joe gave his older brother a long scrutinizing look, his green eyes sparkling. “Let me guess – you recited poetry and the puma died from massive boredom…”

A gurgling sound came from Hoss and Adam sighed.

“No, the black stallion killed the puma.”

“What? The grasshopper?” Hoss’s jaw dropped down.

“This harmless horse that is by no means dangerous?” Ben’s voice sounded rather sarcastic. “That animal that you would let run around loose as it wants?”

Adam pushed the air through his nose. “He just defended himself and at the same time protected the lady after she’d been thrown down. And he most likely saved her life because I wasn’t there in time. When I arrived the fight was in full swing.” He leaned against the solid stones of the hearth. “He’s a very remarkable and well-trained horse, in fact I was impressed how he obeyed to the slightest wave of her hand.”

“I was impressed when I saw the buggy…” Little Joe pulled an innocent face. For once it wasn’t him sitting in the pillory.

“It’s not normal for a horse to fight a puma.” Ben couldn’t help his thoughts wandering off. What was normal for these horses? How mad had the other one been, so long ago…? He shrugged the thought off and continued, “The normal instinct of a horse is to run away from a predator.”

“That ain’t quite right, Pa,” Hoss put in. “I’ve seen wild stallions running after wolves when they wanted to protect their herd! And you should’ve seen them wolves run.”

“Wild stallions!” Ben nodded his head. “Sure – and we sure are glad we don’t have any of them running loose in our yard!”

“The stallion is safely in the barn!” Adam pushed himself off the wall and walked to the credenza near the door. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and get the saddle.”

“What saddle?”

“The lady’s saddle. I had to leave it behind when I brought her here. I hope it will give us a clue as to who she is or where she came from.”

“It’s already getting dark, son.”

Adam put on his gun belt and gave his father an unfathomable look. “I’m a big boy already, Pa. Doctor, I see you in the morrow.” He took his hat and jacket and left without another word.
* * *

 

“That’s a saddle?” Little Joe took an incredulous look at the odd specimen his brother had just put on the table in front of the fireplace.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Hoss bowed over the table and a grin showed on the edge of his mouth as his finger tapped on one of the tassles decorating the breastplate. “Must look real funny to see the grasshopper jump around with this… uhm… gadget.”

“Do you have to bring this thing in here?” Ben’s face had clouded after one look at the saddle.

Adam looked up, jolted by his father’s reaction. “Why, I thought I’d like to hear what you think about it. I find this very interesting.”

Ben did not answer and admonished himself to not be so moody. Of course his sons thought it interesting to see such an unusual saddle. Of course Adam would have to bring it in.

“It doesn’t have a tree.” Joe remarked but Adam shook his head.

“It has a tree, it’s just crafted into the carpeting and the leather. Seems to be cork rather than wood, though.” Adam’s fingers ran over the richly decorated swells, or what might be called the swells. The saddle was an exquisite and doubtlessly precious work of art and the gold applications were actually gold, but it was also very worn and old. Girth and breastplate had broken due to old age when the puma had attacked. The beast really must have jumped her with tremendous force.

“Adam, where d’you reckon this comes from?” Hoss lifted the saddle to estimate its weight.

“Seems like an Arab saddle to me… might be a Bedouin one, as well.”

“What do you know about Arab saddles?” Ben did his best to sound casual, yet his tone drew a puzzled look from his oldest son.

“I’ve read quite a few books about the Oriental world, and I recall seeing pictures of saddles very similar to this one.” Adam proceeded to examine the saddle bags which had stirred his curiosity from the beginning. If they were to find out something about the young lady, then it would be through the contents of these saddle bags which weren’t fixed to the saddle as he first had thought, but were merely well fastened into the carpeted trimmings.

“Hey, look at this!” Joe had detected the attached sheaths and produced a richly engraved curved dagger. “That’s quite a knife!”

Ben’s face darkened even more as he took the dagger from Joe’s hand to have a closer look at it. His eyes seemed to get lost in the entwined engravings. It had been just such a dagger that had cut Geoffrey’s throat… thirty-eight years ago. And yet they would have overpowered the Arab warlord had it not been for that damn horse of his. Ben could still see this black stallion breaking into the camp like a creature from hell, causing havoc among their men – all good seamen, yet sailors who knew nothing about horses, who had barely been able to handle their own mounts, let alone a wild stallion that was viciously and aggressively attacking them. He still could hear the loud laughter of the warlord as he jumped on his horse and escaped. They had followed him, sure… straight into the trap he had prepared for them before. Ben’s face hardened to a mask. Had it not been for that horse… that vicious, unnatural, godforsaken black horse.

But then… He looked over to his sons. Adam on the settee, taking his time to examine those saddle bags, with Hoss beside him and Joe sitting on the table, impatiently looking on to see what they contained. Such a trusted, dearly familiar picture… his three sons. Ben suddenly felt a sharp pang. What would his life have been like had it not been for that black horse?

“A stage coach ticket…” Adam raised his eyebrows. “A stage coach ticket from St. Louis to Virginia City. According to this ticket she arrived in Virginia City yesterday.”

“With that horse?”

“Good question, Joe.” Adam looked at some other papers he had found in one of the two books that were stored in the saddle bags. “And here’s a telegraphed reservation for the International Hotel for one Miss Lilyah Al-Sharieh.” A small smile appeared on his lips. “Guess we know the lady’s name now.” His smile intensified when he read a second telegraph. “‘Yes, we do have accommodation for horses’…”

“What?” Both Hoss and Joe looked equally puzzled.

Adam smirked. “It seems she telegraphed the hotel twice to make sure there’s a place for her horse. As strange as it seems, she must have brought it with her.”

“What’s this?” Joe wrinkled his nose and looked up from the book he had just grabbed. “A joke?”

“I guess it’s Arabic, at least it looks like that.” Adam knitted his brows. “Her English is perfect, though, maybe apart from a little accent – and she spoke English with her horse. She must be well used to the language, most likely speaking it at home a lot.”

“You reckon she’s from St. Louis?” Hoss also had a look at the book. “Can you read this?”

“No, but thanks for your astounding faith in my abilities.” Adam gave his brother an amused look. “And no, she certainly doesn’t look like a lady from St. Louis. Her address there was a hotel, she might have just been passing through.” His brow furrowed in thought. “Her name definitely sounds Arabic, she rides an Arabian horse, with Arab tack and saddle, and her clothes look quite Oriental, as well…”

“You mean she could really be from Arabia?” Joe made big eyes. “Hey, that’s awfully far away!”

“It doesn’t have to be Arabia. The Oriental world is big and there are a lot of countries where she might come from. But far away they are – half around the world, to be precise, which makes her presence here in Nevada territory quite a miracle.” Adam scratched his nose. “Pa, what would you make of this?”

“Well…” Ben blew a breath, raising his eyebrows, fairly relaxed since the name Al-Sharieh had not told him anything. “Hard to say… maybe you could ride to Virginia City tomorrow and ask in the International Hotel. They might know more, and since the young lady seems to be staying for a while, it would be a good idea to see if she has any luggage.”

“I’ll better take the buckboard then.” Adam continued searching the saddle bags. “I might bring some fresh supplies along all the same.”

“You do that, son.” Ben leaned back in his armchair, ostensibly puffing his pipe. He really should put all those dark memories back in the past where they belonged. Those Arabian horses most likely all just looked the same, as did those saddles and daggers and tassles and whatever. Maybe the young lady ran away from a circus in St. Louis, who could know?

The saddle bags didn’t seem to reveal more information except Adam could not help the impression that Miss Lilyah Al-Sharieh was by no means experienced in long rides through a wild country. Her saddle bags lacked some important things needed for long trails. There weren’t even any dishes except a small enamel bowl, therefore she carried some rather odd things along, like a compass and precious hairbrushes with silverplated handles and delicate ivory inlays. Some of them were quite big and rough and on second sight Adam almost laughed – the hairs stuck in them left no doubt that these were horse brushes. There even was a hoof pick with a golden knob. Shereally seemed to pamper that horse of hers… A small loaf of bread and a chunk of wrapped up cheese were the only food supplies. A sad little smile played around his lips. Even the puma attack spoke volumes. Everyone with at least some common sense would have stayed clear away from those overhanging rocks in the Willow Creek. What on earth had she been doing there? How did she ever get there?

He was about to put the saddle bags aside when he halted. They were heavier than they should have been and their insides less deep than their outsides suggested. He examined them more thoroughly and finally let out a surprised whistle. Both bags had double floors hiding two embroidered leather pouches. He poured the contents of one on the table and his eyes widened.

“Wow!” Joe stared at the glittering jewels. “Are they for real?”

Adam scrutinized a collar made of gold and pearls, another one with rubies, his eyebrows climbed up.
“Yes… I would be very mistaken if they were not.”

“Must be worth a fortune.” Hoss exclaimed with awe.

Ben stood up and also examined the rather exotic jewelry, coming to the same conclusion as his sons. Whatever the young lady was, she certainly wasn’t poor.

“Typical Oriental craftsmanship.” Adam held up a kind of diadem with long braided gold fringes dangling from it. “She wore some similar jewelry in her hair.”

The second bag contained equally valuable preciosities – necklaces, bracelets, diadems, brooches, rings. Adam put it all back in the pouches and the pouches back in the saddle bags as he had found them.

* * *

 

5. Bits and Pieces 

The next morning brought a rude awakening to Adam when Hoss impatiently rattled his shoulder.
“You better come quick, Adam. Pa’s real mad.”

“Adam!” Ben Cartwright’s voice thundered through the house. “ADAM!”

“What happened…?”

To his surprise Hoss grinned from ear to ear. “You better look for yourself, older brother.”

Adam’s face darkened when his father’s voice bawled another “ADAM!”

Less than two minutes later he was down the staircase, unkempt, just pants and boots on, putting his shirt on as he approached his father, his eyes barely concealing his anger. “Pa, we have a very ill woman in the house! She needs her sleep and you’ll wake her up!”

“He’s in the kitchen!” Ben’s face was a fist as his stretched arm pointed vehemently in the direction of the dinner table where an agitated Hop Sing ran in circles, lamenting and lambasting in Chinese.

“Who’s in the kitchen?”

Ben was so riled up he hardly got a word out and had to take a deep breath. “Your horse!”

“My horse?”

“Mistel Adam!” Hop Sing shot up to him. “Hop Sing getting flesh milk and horse came lunning, tlying to steal milk! Flom bucket! Hop Sing lunning kitchen and horse lunning after Hop Sing! With horse in kitchen, Hop Sing quit!”

“Oh no, Hop Sing, don’t ya think of that! Looky here, brother Adam’s here takin’ care of that ole horsey – he’s the best dadburn horse breaker on the Ponderosa.”

“With horse in kitchen, no bleakfast! Spilled milk, no flapjacks! Hop Sing quit!” Rattling on in Chinese, he ran back to the kitchen entry but did not dare enter. From inside of the kitchen the sound of breaking dishes could be heard, causing the Chinese lament to considerably increase in volume.

Ben easily overpowered all the noise, his eyes shooting flashes at his oldest son. “He’s wrecking the kitchen, he’s stealing milk – and he’s YOUR responsibility!”

“You don’t need to shout!” Adam pulled a grimace and prowled into the kitchen. It didn’t take a fortune teller to figure that it wasn’t his good old chestnut who was rumbling around there.

“The shuggel! The good Jamaica shuggel! Hop Sing quit!!”

Adam sighed when he saw the black stallion happily munching away on the good Jamaican sugar cubes reserved for fine social teas only, the black muzzle still dripping from the milk cream he had slobbered before.

“Who on earth let you out of the stall? Chai, behave yourself!” He grabbed a strand of the long mane and was relieved that he did not have any difficulties navigating the stallion through the door leading out into the yard. “I just hope you didn’t eat anything that’s not good for you.”

Chai gave a friendly snort and quite obviously did not feel the least bit of guilt. After all, when he saw someone carrying a bucket of milk, it was only legitimate to assume it was meant for him.

“Higgins!” Adam’s voice rose to an edgy sharpness when he saw the ranch hand peeping out of the bunkhouse. “Who let this horse out of the barn?”

The sturdy man pulled his head between his shoulders while he reluctantly drew closer. “No one ever got near that horse, Mister Cartwright – just as you said!”

“So he got out of the barn and the locked stall all by himself, right?” Adam asked sarcastically, his eyes narrowing. “That’s quite an amazing accomplishment for a horse, don’t you think so?”

“I ain’t seen nothin’, Mr. Cartwright,” Higgins retorted in an offended tone. “I ain’t seen anyone gettin’ near that horse. Maybe you ain’t shut the bars right.”

Adam swallowed the sharp reply he had on his tongue. There was at least a faint chance that the man was right. He growled something like, “Yeah it’s alright” and led Chai back to the barn. At least the stallion did not give him any trouble and peacefully walked into his stall. This time Adam made sure that the bars were properly shut.

Jed Higgins pulled a fretful face. Of all the three Cartwright sons, he liked this one the least. Always so uppity, always sticking his Yankee nose into everything, always noticing the slightest glitch and then hawking down on it. It had happened more than once that Adam Cartwright had been all over him for not doing this or that well enough to his stuck-up expectations. Higgins noisily drew the air up his nose. But this time the wisecracker sure had loused up something himself, when Higgins was quite sure that no-one had gotten anywhere near this stupid horse.
* * *

 

“Well, older brother, you owe me a breakfast, you know?”

“I do what?” Adam halted the team in front of the International Hotel and gave Hoss a sidelong glance, one eyebrow slowly climbing up.

“Why, like Pa told you,” Hoss said with a long drawl. “That grasshopper is your responsibility!”

“Ah, yeah…” Adam’s drawl was as good as his brother’s.

“Sure thing – and it sure was the grasshopper’s fault that we had no flapjacks for breakfast. And no milk, and no eggs either, for he dropped the bag with the coffee grounds into the egg basket.” Hoss gave a deep sigh. “I sure feel hungry now…”

“Poor little you.” Adam nodded with a wry grin. “I should’ve known those 50 pounds of sandwiches weren’t enough to make it up.”

“Dang, I just ain’t like you, takin’ all morning nibblin’ on a crumb that wouldn’t feed a chicken.”

They both laughed when they jumped from the buckboard and entered the hotel lobby. “You go ahead and stuff your face, I’ll talk to Tom.” Adam gave his brother a friendly knock and proceeded to the lobby’s counter.

The clerk could not tell him much. They had never even seen the lady and her luggage had been brought in by the stage coach driver. She had paid her room per telegraph order in advance and they did not really care whether she was in it or not. And no, he did not think it very strange that a female stage coach passenger apparently did not arrive with the stage coach that carried her luggage.

Adam shook his head. Four years ago the hotel owner himself would have run to the sheriff to report the incident, but those times were certainly gone. With the silver boom roaring to staggering heights, Virginia City had grown to a sprawling, bubbling monster where no-one really cared about one another anymore. The town was overflowing with miners, prospectors, fortune chasers, gamblers and all kinds of folks, the mushrooming hotels resembled busy bee-hives, the numerous saloons were buzzing night and day with hardly a silent hour in between. Adam did not like it. There had been a time when he had watched excitedly how the town seemed to grow by leaps and bounds day by day, hailing it as progress and the advent of civilization. When Maguire’s Opera House had opened, his enthusiasm had known no borders. But somewhere along the way cold greed and recklessness had grown out of all proportion and the town had lost whatever soul it once might have had.

Adam shook off his thoughts and inquired about Miss Al-Sharieh’s luggage. The clerk was reluctant first to let him get it, but finally gave in since he knew the Cartwrights. Being the richest ranchers in the area, they certainly had no need stealing any luggage from the International Hotel. Adam took the room key and went to get the bags.

The luggage stood in the middle of the room she had rented, just as the hotel boy had put it there the day before. Two suitcases, a carpeted travel bag and a hard leather case the form of which immediately caught Adam’s attention. He curiously opened it and could not resist to take out the strange instrument it contained. It was a sort of lute with a short fretless neck, a sharply bent peg-box, a pear-shaped body and a staved, rounded back, with five double strings and one single string. Exquisitely crafted with fine mother-of-pearl and ivory fittings, it reminded him of her saddle – precious but old and well used. His fingers touched the strings and his face softened when he listened to the sound. The discovery that she played an instrument somehow made him feel one step closer to her.

“Adam?”

“Finished your breakfast?” Adam turned around when his brother appeared in the door. “Or did the hotel kitchen run out of supplies?”

“Nah…” Hoss grinned. “Just reckoned I’d better help you spindly feller with the luggage. You took so long I plum thought you’d broke down under the load.”

Adam gave him an amused glance and carefully put the instrument back in its case.

“What’s that?” Hoss came closer to have a look. “An Arab guitar?”

“More of a lute…”

“So the young lady plays an instrument, huh?” Hoss’s grin broadened as he pungently studied his brother’s face. “Now that’s sumthin’ neat to think about, ain’t it?”

“I don’t know what you mean. A lot of people play instruments.”

“Sure.” Hoss smacked his lips and his eyes were laughing. Adam could fool pretty much everyone when he put up that poker face, but not him, no Siree!

“You take the suitcases!” Adam grabbed the bag and the lute’s case and stormed out of the room.
* * *

 

They found the stage coach driver at the wainwright’s.

“Yeah, that strange dark lady!” Charlie Watkins pushed back his fringed hat and grinned. “Where is she? Was wondering already.”

“Wondering!” Adam knitted his brow. “Your passenger has disappeared from your stage coach and you’re standing here days later wondering about it.”

“She never was on the coach!” the driver protested. “Only her luggage was and that I brought to the hotel like I was told! Thought the lady was looking around in town or so.”

“She never was on the stage coach?”

“Nope! Said she don’t like being crammed in a cage. Rode her black critter all the way.”

The brothers exchanged an incredulous look.

“All the way from St. Louis?” Adam could hardly believe it even though it was clear that she must have brought her horse along with her from where ever she came. “That’s 1800 miles!”

“Yap!” The driver nodded his head. “Never thought it would work myself when we started in St. Louis, but lo and behold, she did it. Course, the war helped her a lot. Don’t think she coulda done it without the war.”

“The war?” Adam made a step backwards as the driver rolled one of the large wooden wheels past him that obviously had seen some repair.

“The war ‘gainst the South, I know of no other. Hey, Todd, gimme a hand here!” Charlie Watkins placed the wheel against the axis resting on a barrel. “That lousy war that slowed us down! Really messes up everything, most of the time we don’t even drive at night. Took us 32 days this time; without the war we woulda been fired by the bosses. Mail never took that long.” He puffed himself up and spouted out, “I usually do it in 21 days! Twenty-one days, no more! Goddamn war!”

“Sure, Charlie.” Adam still was dumbfounded. “So you didn’t see her at all throughout the passage?”

“Course I saw her, all the time! Not saw too much of her herself, with all them veils she was wearin’, but she was there. Was at every way station, had her grub, changed, or had a rest! She missed one now and then but always caught up. Rode alongside the stage coach quite often, too.” He scratched his head. “And that skinny critter she rode, I tell ya, never saw him having a big sweat even once! Darn black critter, he sure could run.”

“What else do you know about her? You must have talked now and then.”

“Gosh, Adam, ain’t no time for talking when you run the Overland and she kept to herself most of the time. But she must come from some desert place… Yep, she told me that skinny critter’s so tough cause it’s a desert horse.” He obviously thought hard before his face lit up. “Ah yep, and she must have travelled by train before. Said her critter got all pesky from being locked up in a train wagon.”

“Dadburnit!” Hoss shook his head. “I’ll never laugh about the grasshopper again!”
* * *

 

The first thing they saw when they drove the buckboard into the yard back home was the doctor’s buggy in front of the ranch house – the second. the black stallion running loose.

“Who in…” Adam suppressed the rest under clenched teeth as he slammed on the brakes.

“Uh… oh…” Hoss pulled a worried face. “Maybe Pa hasn’t noticed yet…”

Ben Cartwright had noticed and he was not all too amused about it, his nearly black eyes angrily glowering at his oldest son as he came marching out of the house like a locomotive under full steam.
“Haven’t I told you to take care that this animal is safely locked up?”

Adam did not know what to say, for one moment he felt embarrassedly helpless. He did lock the bars and he double-checked on them before leaving the barn – but he just did not want to defend himself like a ten-year-old, it plainly went against his pride. It wasn’t supportive at all that right then Chai decided to run up to him to give his new friend an affectionate nudge. Adam hardly knew where to look.

“Pa, he ain’t doin’ nothin’.” Hoss couldn’t help a quick look at the doctor’s buggy, noticing with some relief that it still was intact. “Hey Pa, he ran 1800 miles in 32 days, all the way from St. Louis. Ain’t that sumthin’ or not?”

“Hoss, you stay out of this!” Ben’s brows still darkened his eyes. “It should be sufficient to say that hardly anyone dares to even tiptoe across the yard as long as this horse is running around on it! And I sure should expect my oldest son to be able to properly stable a horse, shouldn’t I?!”

“I’ll put him into the corral.” Adam’s face clearly showed his discomfort. The rebuttal chafed. “Come on, Chai!” The stallion followed without the slightest hesitation.

Ben heaved a deep breath and looked at his middle son who stood there with his hands in his pockets, showing a rather unhappy face.

“1800 miles in 32 days?”

“Yes, Sir.” And Hoss proceeded to tell his father what Charlie Watkins had told them.
* * *

 

Adam felt relieved and disappointed at the same time after he had seen Dr. Keefer to the door. Relieved because the young lady had been awake and had even eaten some broth and disappointed because he had not been there to see it. Under the influence of the sedative she had been sleeping again before he had returned from Virginia City. According to the doctor, she had not uttered one single word and Adam felt that she would have spoken to him had he been there.

Even though the doctor had assured him that the house could come tumbling down without waking her up, he took care to not make the slightest noise when he carried her luggage into the room. He resisted the temptation to examine the suitcases and only opened the travel bag, just to close it again when the first thing he got out of it was a pair of long silken pantaloons. He quickly put it back and abandoned all thoughts of any further investigations. For a long while he silently stood at the side of the bed, looking into her small, serene face. Somehow he felt he already knew all he had to know.
* * *

 

6. Early Morning Ride 

It was way before sunrise when Adam got up – partially because he used to be an early bird and partially because he felt the urgent need to find out where the black stallion was before anyone else got up. He had put Chai in his stall for the night and locked the bar, checking it at least three times before he left – and yet he felt uneasy about it. Maybe someone had fun playing a practical joke on him.

The barely audible click of a door caught his attention just as he finished shaving, he turned his head and listened attentively. The door clicked again, almost not discernible. His brow furrowed. Neither his father nor his brothers would take so much care to not make a noise opening and closing their doors. Adam hastily put on his shirt and left the room, just in time to see a shade of gold floating down the staircase.

He followed and saw Miss Lilyah Al-Sharieh silently moving to the door and opening it. Suppressing his first impulse to call out, he scurried after her. He hadn’t even reached the door when he heard a very cheerful nicker and the sound of fast approaching hooves.

“Chai, Chai, good boy, sweet boy, have you missed me?”

Adam just shook his head and omitted a sigh, his slightly perturbed expression softening as he watched the affectionate welcome scene, saw the young lady caressing and even kissing the horse’s head while Chai happily nuzzled all over her. Those two really loved each other.

His presence did not remain undetected for long when the stallion’s snort made her turn around.

“Oh…” She wrapped her long wide gown closer around her. “Good morning…”

“Good morning.” For one moment he just watched her, admiring the long dark hair that fell in waves down to her hips, the small face with the dark eyes, the fine-boned hands. The dark brown and golden gown she wore was unknown to him and indicated that she must have unpacked her luggage, at least a part of it.

“You really shouldn’t be up.” He leaned against the corner and crossed his arms. “The doctor made it very clear that you have to stay in bed for at least two weeks.”

“Doctors always say such things.” She gave him a shy smile. “They think it makes them sound important.”

He arched an eyebrow. Her face still was ashen and the swollen wound at her temple, while unbandaged, was a sorry sight. She really looked rather ill, and it was quite certain that she had to be in some pain. He also knew Dr. Keefer well enough to know that the old doctor tended to be a bit over-conscientious, but he certainly could be trusted in his diagnoses.

“You must be hurting.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “but I would hurt all the same lying in bed.”

He pursed his lips. “But you would probably heal better.”

“I won’t be up for long, I just had to see Chai. I feel absolutely fine, Adam… Mr. Cartwright…”

“Adam, please – if I may call you Lilyah.”

“Yes…” She stopped, a puzzled look showing in her eyes as she looked up to his face.

Adam understood the unspoken question. “I’ve looked into your saddle bags – your name was on the telegraphs.”

“Oh, of course.” She gave him a little smile. So it must have been him who brought all her things to the room she had awakened in. “Thank you for everything, Adam! And especially for looking after Chai! I hope he did not give you any trouble.”

An amused sparkle showed in his eyes. “No, not at all… I’m just wondering how he got out of his stall again.”

“Did you lock him in?”

He twisted his mouth. “Of course I did..”

“That was a mistake. He hates to be locked up!” She gave him an apologetic smile. “He just sees it as a challenge to break out – and he can easily do this because he can open all kinds of bars and bolts. And if you use a key, he will make an awful lot of noise kicking against the walls, which isn’t good for his legs.”

“Now great.” Adam pulled a face but still felt the urge to laugh. “And how do you keep him in a stall?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t; he has an open stable at home. But he stays in a corral or a pasture if you put him there.”

“Where is home?”

She slowly turned around to her horse who had been standing there all the time, pressing his head against her unhurt shoulder, a mute sign of his affection.

“You’ve even groomed him.” She gently touched the stallion’s head. “I haven’t seen his coat so clean and shiny for quite some while now…”

“Where do you come from, Lilyah?” It felt so natural to call her so. Not ‘Miss Lilyah’ – just ‘Lilyah’.

She gave him a rather inscrutable look. “This is the house of Benjamin Cartwright, is it? The doctor told me.” She hesitated “And you are…?”

“I’m Ben Cartwright’s son.” Adam tried to read in her face. “Do you know my father?”

“No.” She shook her head and continued to caress her horse. “I don’t…”

“Lilyah…” His baritone was very soft. “Why don’t you just tell me where you come from and what you’re doing here?” He gave her an assuring smile. “It shouldn’t be that difficult to do.”

She looked up to him. Never before had she met a man that she had trusted so entirely without even knowing him. It was just like her father once told her – that sometimes it would only take one look into a man’s face to know that one had found a friend. And he had been able to groom Chai! Beside herself, her father had been the only person who could have done that. Something in her just wanted to tell him everything, just to have someone else know, maybe even have a friend who would understand, and be on her side. But no… It would not be fair.

“I will tell it later when I feel better. It’s not time yet.” Her eyes seemed to be pleading. “Can you just wait and not ask?”

Adam opened his mouth and closed it again. He could just drown in her eyes – so large, so dark, so childlike and yet so deep. “Alright.” He pushed himself from the wall and softly put a hand on her arm. “You really shouldn’t stand. Let us sit down.”

He came so close that Lilyah hastily made one step backwards, bumping into Chai. It wasn’t exactly annoyance and she did not even feel threatened or compromised by Adam’s closeness – it was just a strange sensation in herself that she did not understand, did not want to understand and was not willing to let grow any further. Not now. Or at all. She heard Chai’s nickering and felt his hopeful nudges. It was quite obvious what he was asking for, when it was their usual habit to have a fine long ride every morning. She still was weak and her back was painfully throbbing, but most certainly a good breeze of fresh wind would make her feel better. And it sure would get her out of this confusing warmth that seemed to be radiating from this big man.

“You know what, Chai? You’re right!”

Adam’s jaw dropped as she suddenly put her foot on the edge of the big flowerpot next to the porch and the next moment pulled herself on the unsaddled horse. Chai gave a loud and delighted whinny and stormed out of the yard.

It took Adam a full second to act. Biting down a heartfelt curse, he ran into the barn to get his own horse ready, forcing the bridle on the chestnut’s head in such a haste that the gelding got nervous and began dancing around. Adam grabbed for his saddle, but changed his mind and thrust it back, with no care that he missed and the saddle plunged on the ground. Using a grain box as a stepping block, he mounted and raced the horse out of the barn in full gallop.
* * *

 

For long moments Lilyah just enjoyed the ride, the wind in her face, Chai’s floating harmonious movements, the trusted reliable power of his body beneath her. Riding like this was like a taste of paradise and there was nothing she loved more, feeling like she was flying on invisible wings, free as the wind himself. There was no house of some man that had been a shadow in her life for years, no room that felt like a jail, no doubts, no thoughts, no problems. For one wonderful moment even all the pain was gone – unfortunately, only for one moment. She tried to ignore it like her father had taught her, but it was too much.

“Lilyah!”

She painfully turned around and saw Adam racing towards her. For one heartbeat she hoped that he would just love to have an early morning ride, like she had done all her life ever since she had got her first horse, but as he came closer the vague feeling of sameness quickly faded away. His face was dark with anger.

“Are you out of your mind?” He brought his chestnut to a halt. “Dashing off like this on an unsaddled and unbridled horse? In your condition? With your injuries? What if you fall? You have no control over this horse whatsoever, no halter, no nothing! A ten-year-old would have more brains than this!” He had to catch his breath. “You could’ve killed yourself!”

Her dark eyes flamed up. She had not fought all her life for her freedom just to have someone, anyone, bellow at her like this.

“But I feel fine!” Her chin rose tempestuously. “I’m perfectly fine! And you can well believe me that I can ride my own horse!”

Adam’s eyes narrowed to slits, his lips pressed to a thin line. He could not for the life of him believe that she was ‘fine’ – the paleness of her face alone spoke volumes. Quite obviously rationality wasn’t her strong suit.

“Wait, I’ll show you!” The anger let her forget all pain and weakness. With a stubborn expression on her face she turned the stallion around and nudged him into a light canter, changing into a fast gallop and then, after turning the horse on the haunches, into a wide extended trot.

Adam watched with mixed feelings. On one side he never had seen anything as beautiful as this graceful woman so naturally riding her outstanding horse, on the other he knew exactly what was coming. It just could not go well – and it did not. Three strides into the trot her body almost slumped over the stallion’s crest. Chai gave an alarmed snort and stopped while Lilyah’s hands desperately clutched his mane.

Within a few moments Adam was at her side, carefully holding her arm. “Are you alright?”

She gave him a deeply embarrassed look as she tried to breathe through the brutal hammering in her head, her suddenly hot face covered with sweat. It slowly got better now that the stallion was standing.

“I’m sorry…” She grimaced. “This… this comes a bit unexpectedly…”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Only two days after suffering a concussion and some bad flesh wounds this certainly could not have been expected at all.”

The reproachful look in her eyes almost made him laugh, even though the situation was anything but funny. She just looked like a child caught at something real stupid that had gone embarrassingly wrong. He tenderly touched her unhurt temple, brushed a streak of long hair from her face, his thumb stroked over her cheek. “Better?”

She nodded her head and tried to collect what was left of her composure. Had he just touched her? She hastily made Chai take a few steps backwards.

“Let us ride back.” The twitch of a smile appeared on his lips. “In a slow, slow walk.”

“Yes…” She rubbed her face with both hands. “I’ve probably overrated my strength.”

Adam decided not to pick on the word ‘probably’ and watched as she nudged Chai into a walk. The black stallion, who usually could not do three steps without dancing, walked as slowly and carefully as if he was walking on ice. Lilyah still seemed embarrassed by her weakness and just looked down at Chai’s mane while Adam used the chance to study her features. The wide gown she wore might have resembled a night gown by American standards, but on second sight it actually seemed to be a sort of riding dress – and it explained the overflowing wideness and manifold draping of her robes. She could well ride her horse astride and still be decently covered from tip to toe, without resembling the bulky appearance of a woman on a side saddle. In fact she gave a beautiful picture and Adam could have watched her for hours.

“You have a very close bond with your horse.”

“Yes.” Just as he had expected, her face lit up a bit. “We’re together all of his life and more than half of mine. I’ve had him since he was born!”

“You raised him with a bottle,” he continued, trying not to show his slight amusement. Her love for her horse certainly knew no boundaries and provided the perfect means to lure her out of her sullen mood.

“Yes, his dam had a terrible accident more than three weeks before he was due; she delivered but died.” Her dark eyes softened. “Chai was so tiny and not even able to stand because he was born too early. My father wanted to put him down because he thought he could not live, but I begged him to let me have the foal and try to save it. And Chai survived! As weak and tiny as he was, he wanted to live and he fought for his life!” Her hand lovingly stroked the long black mane.

“And you fought with him, did you?” Adam noted with some relief that she had recovered from her near-breakdown. Her face still was ashen but nowhere as deadly pale as before. Her features lived when she talked and he absolutely loved to listen to the soft timbre of her voice.

“Oh yes!” She gave him a smile. “Of course, most of his survival was thanks to my father who always told me what to do and showed me how to do it. I was only twelve years old and actually wouldn’t have known it all by myself. And when it really looked as if the foal would die and I was so desperate, he told me how Chai would be a big, proud stallion one day, as big and black and lionhearted as his sire had been!” She proudly lifted her head and added, “After all, he is a son of the great Shatam!”

“The great Shatam?” A flicker of laughter showed in Adam’s eyes when she had said this with such fanfare as if everybody must at least have heard about this obviously greatly renowned equine luminary. Shamefully, he hadn’t…

“The horse my father rode when he was young, very likely one of the greatest stallions that ever lived, who became as famous as the most honored war mares, which is very rare in Arab history! I only knew him as a very old sire of more than thirty years of age, but my father never tired talking about how he had been when he was younger!” She proudly patted her stallion’s neck. “The great Shatam had a lot of gorgeous sons and daughters, but only one son that turned out to be as big and black as he was!”

“Oh.” Adam dutifully made an impressed face while his eyes twinkled. “How old is Chai?”

“Fourteen years!” She cocked her head. “I bet you woudn’t have guessed that!”

“No.” He pursed his lips and watched her from aside. If Chai was 14, she was 26.

“Are you alone here in Nevada?” he asked casually.

“Except for Chai, yes.”

“And… no man to accompany you?”

“I don’t need a man to accompany me!” she declared with dignity. “I can take care of myself perfectly well!”

Adam cleared his throat and pretentiously scratched his nose. “Sure… of course…”

Her brow furrowed as she gave him a suspicious look and he produced the most innocent smile. “You are certainly an excellent rider!”

The suspicion did not leave her face entirely when she searched for a trace of irony in his features, but she softened when his smile intensified. This smile produced merry dimples in his cheeks and funny lights twinkling in between the brown rays in his hazel eyes. Without his black hat he looked much softer and he probably had the most beautiful mouth she had ever seen in a man.

“I mean it!” he said sincerely. “Riding from St. Louis to Virginia City is quite a remarkable feat!”

“Thank you!” She gave him an affectionate look. “It wasn’t that hard. It might have been nicer with the comfort of an accompanying caravan nearby, but then there were all those many way stations in between and no real desert to cross. I’ve been on much harder rides with my father. I just missed Virginia City…”

“How did you miss it?”

“Oh, that was a stupid thing.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I wanted to take a short cut and got lost.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. “A short cut? Across the Sierra Nevada?”

“Was I that far off the way?” She gave him a puzzled look. “The driver told me to stay west all along.”

Adam fought hard not to laugh. He could just imagine her sitting on her black stallion in the middle of nowhere studying her ridiculous little compass… She probably had been lucky she had arrived in Nevada at all.

“What about your father?” he asked. “Did he ever let you go on such a long ride all alone before?”

A sudden sadness swept over her face when she silently shook her head, and it took quite a while until she answered. “He died last year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” His voice was very tender. “I’m sure he would be very proud of you.”

She nodded her head and gave him a pensive little smile, and for a while they just rode silently side by side.

“Is there anything you have to do in Virginia City?”

“No…”

Their eyes met and he read the unspoken plea in hers.

“Alright, I can wait.” Adam realized her relief. “And I sure hope we will ride together again – on saddled horses – when you are better.” He gave her a look of mock severity. “And when we have the doctor’s permission!”

She could not help but smile. “Alright!”

He winked at her but felt his worries rising again when he watched her hands holding on to Chai’s mane which she hadn’t done at all since they had started to ride back. Her small face seemed more strained than before and her lips had turned a little paler.

“We’re almost there,” he said softly and registered her thankful look.
* * *

 

Adam sighed when he spotted his father and both his brothers standing in front of the house looking over at them, perplexed amazement on their faces. He would have vastly preferred to get Lilyah in her room and Chai into the corral before anybody was up.

Lilyah slipped from her horse’s back before he could get down to help her, only to discover that her legs did not support her. She desperately clutched Chai’s mane and neck to prevent falling down.

“Wait, I’ll take you.” Adam attempted to pick her up but she tried to evade his hands.

“Don’t! I can walk by myself!”

“Now come on! You can’t.”

She stubbornly clenched her teeth. “I can! Just a minute…”

“You only make it worse.” He pursed his lips. “I’ve carried you before and I can do it again, alright?”

She drew a deep breath and tried a last time to get control of her legs but it was to no avail. Looking up to his face she felt a deep blush on her cheeks and hastily hung her head. It was so embarrassing…

“Alright?” he repeated.

Her nod was almost imperceptible and he carefully picked her up, noticing with some amusement that she abashedly closed her eyes so as not to see anything around her. Poor little girl – but maybe it would serve well to keep her from going on a ride again before she was in any shape to do so.

After a few steps towards the house he stopped, noticing that Chai faithfully followed on the heels with his nose almost on Adam’s shoulder.

“How do we prevent Chai from following us into the house?” he whispered.

“Chai, you stay outside!” she whispered back without opening her eyes.

He gulped down a chuckle, turned around and repeated loud and sternly, “Chai, you stay outside!”

The stallion nickered and stood still while Adam quickly carried Lilyah into the house. Upon passing his father he flashed a bright and innocent smile.

“We’ve just had an early morning ride – I’ll take care of the horses later!”

Ben’s jaw just dropped.
* * *

 

Of course everybody was looking at him when he came down the staircase, his father standing in the middle of the great room with his hands on his hips, his brothers loitering around the settee with curiosity lurking in their eyes. The breakfast table was laid out, but apparently the upcoming confrontation was considered much more enticing.

“Alright, before you say anything – she was up on her horse and gone before I could do anything.” Adam leaned against the post of the staircase and crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, the little lady grossly overestimated her powers and in the end had just enough left to pull a blanket over her head and fall asleep.”

Ben nodded with his eyebrows raised. “And that’s all?”

“That’s all!” Adam couldn’t help a small smile even though he was still worried. Lilyah had been asleep within seconds after he had laid her down and he just hoped that her foolish endeavor had not made anything worse. Her wounds had not started bleeding and she was free of fever – but he still would have to talk to Dr. Keefer about it.

“That’s all…” Ben heaved a breath and his eyes pinched his son on the spot. “You were gone for quite some time – Joe found your saddle tossed on the ground almost an hour ago. You sure must have talked about something.”

Adam wrinkled his forehead and pursed his lips. “Well, we did. Some general conversation – mostly about horses.”

“Horses!” Ben stressed the word. “You mean, you are the first one who could have asked her what she is doing here and where she came from and you talked about… horses!?”

“Well… Actually, she did most of the talking. I more or less listened.”

“… and gawked!” Little Joe added impishly and suppressed a laugh, causing Hoss to grin all over his face.

“C’mon, Pa, don’t be so hard on him! Poor feller, he even forgot to saddle his horse…”

Little Joe cackled out loud until he caught his father’s gaze and forced his face into a frozen mask.

Adam twisted his mouth. “You two are so funny!” He drew a breath and continued. “She’s still very weak and she noticed very quickly that she had overextended herself. I saw no need to press her or ask any questions. She’ll tell us where she comes from as soon as she feels better. And if you’ll excuse me now, I’ll have to put that dangerous horse into the corral before he steals any more milk.”

Ben looked after his son as Adam left the house and wondered if he knew more than he said.
* * *

 

7. Ben’s Story 

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m going downstairs.” Lilyah collected herself and firmly returned Adam’s look.

“You can’t be serious!” It was no more than maybe four hours ago that he had faced an utterly aghast Dr. Keefer who could not believe that the young lady had gone for a ride in the morning and that a reasonable young man like Adam had been looking on. The old doctor had once again stressed the importance of bed rest and provided another sedative after she had eaten dinner. According to him, Lilyah should have been dozing in bed and Adam had just wanted to have a short look to make sure she was comfortable.

“Adam, I’m fine…”

“I was afraid you would say this.” He shook his head. “Do you really think it’s reasonable to walk around? You’re just exhausting what little strength you have summoned.”

“I won’t!” She turned around and picked up a wooden box from her drawer. “I have to get this over with.”

“What?” His eyes scanned the box which seemed to be a strongbox, delicately adorned with fine inlays.

“I’ll have to talk with…” She hesitated and avoided his eyes. “… your father.”

“I see.” He was not even surprised, he had suspected something like this. Her attitude this morning had been telling enough and he could still recall her first reaction upon hearing his name. ‘Cartwright’ had been familiar to her but ‘Adam’ seemed to have come quite unexpectedly.

“And you don’t think this can wait?”

She silently shook her head without looking up.

“Alright.” He reached for her arm. “Let’s go.”

“No.” She averted his touch but met his eyes. “Adam, I’ll have to do this alone! I don’t want you to… get into this. Stay out of it, it won’t do you any good.”

Adam drew a breath and looked down at her, scrutinizing her face. She was even paler than she had been in the morning, and whatever it was she had to do was obviously difficult for her. He did not like it at all, but at the same time he was wondering about himself. It wasn’t up to him to decide whether she was ready for it or not – and if she did not want to confide in him first, there really wasn’t much he could do about it. Whether he liked it or not.
* * *

 

Lilyah still could not prevent Adam following close behind her as she slowly proceeded down the staircase. Before she even could look around in the great room downstairs, she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“Pa, Lilyah wants to talk to you!”

She could have crashed the wooden box over his head. Had he even listened to what she had said?

Ben looked up from his figures, feeling the same reservations about her as the first time he had seen her. Something… something in her face really put him off and he fought down the irrational and unjustified notion of not wanting to have anything to do with her. He saw Adam retreating near the gun shelf, crossing his arms, watching attentively, his expression brooding. Joe and Hoss had been playing checkers in front of the fireplace and curiously stood up, waiting to be introduced. Yet their eyes glided over to their father, visibly irritated by his noticeable reserve.

“Miss Lilyah…” Ben collected himself and gallantly proceeded from behind his desk to point at the bulky blue armchair next to the hearth. “Won’t you sit down?”

She shook her head and regarded the tall figure of the old rancher. So this was Benjamin Cartwright… He looked nothing like she had expected, but then this wasn’t exactly a surprise. It had been clear even before she had started the long journey that he couldn’t be the young man anymore she had heard about.

“Mr. Cartwright…” She looked down at the wooden box in her hands before she met his eyes again. “You once were acquainted with my mother – Valerie Montane.”

Ben froze to stone and his eyes became black, and for one long moment he just stared at her. How blind had he been? When he finally spoke, his words had an almost cruel tone.

“Who is your father?” As if he wouldn’t know it…

She proudly lifted her head with an air of offended dignity. “Rashid ibn Hassan ibn Rahman Al-Sharieh, of course!”

“Rashid Bey Sharaf…”

“Bey Sharaf was just a title and not even a correct one. Only the Turks and the Europeans used it.” An almost imperceptible trace of disdain tainted her voice. “My father was a sheikh and not a bey!”

Ben heaved a deep breath. How could he have been so blind? One look in her face should have told him everything when it was so obvious, just so plain obvious. Those dark eyes, the high forehead, the cheekbones, the slightly arched nose – she was the spitting image of her Arab father. Softer, of course, more feminine, much smaller, but still the same stygian face. The whole posture was the same, the way she carried herself, there was the semblance of her father in every movement. She even rode the same horse…

“Does your father know you are here?”

“My father is dead.”

“And Valerie…” He could not finish the question.

“She died one and a half years ago.” Lilyah looked down at the box in her hands. “Mr. Cartwright, my mother had a habit of writing letters – to you. She never sent them, but when she knew that her life had come to an end she wanted you to have them. She made me promise to make sure you’d get them, and she wanted me to visit America and bring them to you. It was always her wish that I would meet you one day and see where she came from.” She put the box on the round table. “Of course, she had no idea you lived in the Nevada Territory. She always thought you would live in Boston; that you would be a sea captain, and that you would have married and have many daughters.”

Ben stared down at the box. “And you came all the way from Morocco…?”

“I owed it to her!” She turned away and retreated to the staircase when he approached the table. “We contacted an agency in Boston and they found out you were here. The rest was not difficult.”

“We?” Ben’s fingers moved over the box, as carefully as if he feared to break it. “Your brother… You must have a brother, he should be 37 years old.”

She shook her head. “My mother lost two sons when they were still in the cradle. I am the only living child. It was my Uncle Ali who helped me to make the contact to America.”

Ben closed his eyes. So the baby had died. It took him quite a while to regain his composure. He hesitantly opened the lid of the box and the first thing he saw was a daguerreotype. Valerie… Ben felt a lump in his throat. She was older in the picture than he had her in his memory, but she was still as beautiful as she had always been. Her hair looked just blonde, but he still remembered the reddish shimmer in the honey colored gold, like he remembered the light sea green of her eyes that he had never seen in any other person again. The little nose, the rosy lips… No, he had not forgotten anything. His face darkened when he looked over to Lilyah. How could a woman as fair and as beautiful as Valerie have a daughter like this? How could it possibly be that this dark creature was Valerie’s daughter at all?

Adam’s brow furrowed when he saw his father’s look and he felt a strong surge of protectiveness. She looked so small, standing there trying valiantly to maintain her composure. He covered the few steps between them and took her arm. “Lilyah, sit down – you should not stand!”

She shook her head without looking up, but couldn’t do much as he gently but determinedly guided her to the blue armchair. “Sit down, please!”

A spark of protest lit up in her eyes as he applied just enough pressure on her shoulder to make her sit down, but she did not say a word and fought down the impulse to shoot him a look. Not with that silver-haired man looking on.

Ben watched and his eyes glowered. “Did she tell you how exactly her father… ‘met’ her mother?”

“No.” Adam calmly returned the glowering look. “She did not tell me anything. But maybe you will.”

His father heaved a sigh and slumped down in a chair at the round table, the daguerreotype in his hands. A rather uncomfortable silence fell on the room when no one knew what to do and everybody just waited for Ben to say something. Lilyah looked into the fireplace and tried to ignore Adam who remained standing next to her, one hand resting on the blue chair’s high back. Couldn’t he even wait until he knew the whole story before placing himself in the middle of everything?

It took a long while until Ben raised his head and met the inquiring eyes of his sons. He had never told them about Valerie… He had never thought that he would tell anybody about Valerie again. It was so long in the past, buried under countless memories, almost lost in the distance. But she hadn’t been forgotten.

“Valerie Montane was a young woman I once knew…” He hesitated, but then went on, his eyes on the daguerreotype. “A beautiful young woman that I once knew and loved. She was the daughter of an English family that had emigrated to America. We practically grew up together, we were neighbors.” A lost smile played around his lips when somewhere in his memory her joyful laughter resounded. In his mind, the woman in the daguerreotype turned into the young girl again, whirling herself around so that her wide skirts flew. “We fell in love and wanted to marry, but her parents considered us too young and decided we would have to wait. I had just joined the navy and was only an ordinary seaman, of course I was expected to achieve a little more before marrying.” He took another deep breath. “In the year 1826 Valerie’s parents decided to spend a summer in Italy with their daughter and boarded a vessel to Naples. They did not get past the Mediterranean Barbary Coast when their ship was raided by Algerian pirates. The passengers were taken as hostages, for ransom.”

Nobody said a word as Ben continued.

“Geoffrey – Valerie’s brother and my friend – and I were aboard the vessel that sailed to Algiers to free the hostages, and as advised by the British we just paid what they asked. Only Valerie wasn’t there anymore. As we found out, some warlord from neighboring Morocco had seen her and bought her. He had paid more than the ransom was and so the pirates just sold her. That man was Rashid Bey Sharaf!”

“My father was no warlord.” Lilyah voice was quiet, but she lifted her head proudly and her dark eyes glowed. “He was a sheikh, and he came from a very noble and reputable family. He was an honorable man!”

Ben did not even look at her. but his lips became a tad thinner.

“Geoffrey and I talked to the captain and had permission to call volunteers to follow this man and see what we could do, and so we set out, with about twenty men. We followed him across the Moroccan border.” He shook his head. “I’ll make it short – he led us into a trap twice. He killed Geoffrey and in the end he forced Valerie to decide. Either she would come with him voluntarily or watch us all be killed off. She went with him…” His voice became bitter. “I could not accept it, but our own men had gone against me. We were on Moroccan land and America had a peace treaty with Morocco, we even had a legation in Tangiers. Algerian pirates were one thing, a Moroccan noble another one. They had to knock me down, but we eventually returned to our ship. The hunt was over.”

How poor these words sounded to him, so incapable of showing how it really had been. Valerie’s face when their eyes had met for a last time, the triumphant posture of the warlord as he reined in his rearing black stallion, the uncomfortable faces of the sailors as they feigned compassion while not being able to look him in the eye. He looked over to Lilyah who sat quietly on the edge of the blue armchair, very erect, just looking into the flames of the hearth. At least she had the decency not to say anything.

“I could not give her up, though,” Ben continued. “With the help of a good friend I managed my way to Tangiers about a year later and sought the help of the American legation. They actually located Bey Sharaf and with a lot of bribes they managed to arrange a secret meeting with Valerie.” He looked down at the daguerreotype. “In the meanwhile she had been married to him – against her will. And she had a baby – brought upon her against her will.”

“Pa, please!” Adam’s face did not reveal what he thought, but his words sounded angry.

“She cared for the baby anyway, she was the mother after all.” Ben’s voice became tired. “I begged her to come with me… I told her we still could marry, that I would accept the baby as my own, but it was to no avail. Valerie was a very conservative young lady, brought up in a very distinguished family, it was unthinkable for her to return to Boston – like this. With a child that was so dark and foreign that we could never have passed it off as…” He broke off and heaved a heavy sigh. Valerie had been so unhappy about the baby’s dark complexion, so bitter. He couldn’t look at Lilyah anymore. “She said she did not want to ruin my life as well and she sent me away. That was the last time I ever saw her.”

“My father made her an honorable sheikha, and she was treated with utmost respect.” Lilyah’s voice was still quiet and she did not raise her head, but looked into the fire of the hearth.

“Respect!” Ben blew a contemptuous snort. “You obviously don’t know the meaning of the word, and neither did your father.”

“You don’t have the right to talk like this!” she flared up and rose from her seat to face him, vigorously swirling her robes around her in the movement. “You couldn’t hold a candle to my father! My mother was blessed the day he set his eyes on her!”

For one moment Ben was absolutely speechless, unable to trust his ears.

“You better sit down again,” Adam remarked in a soft tone that Ben deemed highly inappropriate for the situation. “You don’t appear to be very steady on your feet.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Lilyah stood very straight and didn’t dodge Ben’s glower. “My mother had a good life and she learned to live with my father, she learned to appreciate him. And he always loved her.”

“Loved her!” Ben’s face went dark with anger. “You seem to have a grotesque idea about love!”

She took a deep breath and turned to the door, visibly straining to keep her proud posure. “I’ll have to look after Chai.” She did not wait for any reaction and left the house.

Adam shook his head, his eyes had darkened. “Pa, she’s 26 years old. She wasn’t even born when this story took place – and you can’t blame her for what her father had done!”

“I don’t blame her…”

“Don’t you?” Adam asked sharply. “You’re so infatuated with your wrath against her father that you completely forget she’s her mother’s daughter as well. And it’s on her mother’s behalf that she’s here in the first place!”

For one moment Ben did not know what to say and just watched as Adam quickly followed the young woman.
* * *

 

“I hope you have no ideas about going on a ride again.”

“No…” Lilyah looked up when Adam stepped out of the dark and leaned against the railing of the corral; her hands continued to caress Chai’s nose. “I just needed some fresh air.”

He watched her fine-boned face and admired once again the flow of her long dark hair. She wore a lace shawl loosely over her head, but the fabric could not entirely cover the rich curls. Seeing the uninjured profile of her face, he felt that he had never seen a woman whose beauty had been just so sublime.

“My father was an honorable man.” She turned her face to her horse again. “He was a good man, and he did love his wife. He was a good husband.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “He just had a slightly odd way of wooing her…”

She pressed her lips together. “A man has a right to buy himself a wife!”

“Is that so?” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, that’s good news! What’s your price?”

Her eyes widened as her head turned around. “What?”

“What’s your price? I’d like to buy you!”

She stared at him. “This is not funny!”

“But I’m serious!” He rubbed his chin. “You see, I don’t have a wife, you’re a beautiful woman, I would say that makes it a perfect match!” He flashed her a big and shiny grin. “I pay top dollar!”

She angrily pushed the air through her nose and her eyes were spitting fire. “You can’t buy me – I am free! And I’m not listening to you any longer!”

She haughtily threw up her head and whirled around, swinging her wide robes around her in such an overly dramatic manner that Adam almost laughed. For one moment he was back in a theater in San Francisco where he had seen the most remarkable performance of ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ ever. The actress who had played the Egyptian queen had been a lovely woman, but she had overacted her role so grossly that Adam had nearly choked in his desperate attempts to not laugh out loud. Best of all had been the fact that quite a lot of the visitors obviously did not realize the heinous overacting; and their awe-stricken faces had caused Adam to cramp up inside with his suppressed laughing fits. He had felt half dead for lack of air when the play was finally over.

And there stood Lilyah, three times as beautiful as this unforgotten actress and her performance three times as bad. Adam almost waited for her to cry out, ‘Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have immortal longings in me’…

“What are you laughing at?” Her dark eyes were flaming.

“Nothing.” Adam quickly put on a serious, most innocent expression. “Nothing, my queen…”

“It’s the tradition of my country and it is nothing to laugh about!” Her face was a fist. “And you have no right to judge!”

“Do you think it’s alright to buy a woman like a cow and marry her against her will?”

She opened her mouth, but the words did not come. Her fury left her as rapidly as it had arisen and she suddenly seemed even smaller than she already was. The black stallion provided her with some much needed diversion when he pushed his nose against her shoulder to get some more lovings and she wearily turned around to caress the horse’s head.

“He was a good father, was he?” Adam’s voice was very soft. “And you loved him.”

“Yes…” Her eyes looked at him with slight amazement. “He was a wonderful father – the best father a girl could ask for. He taught me everything I know…” A little smile played around her lips. “Oh, we had our fights! We both had strong heads and sometimes we really clashed, but… when I needed him, he was there for me. He always was there for me…”

“And your mother?”

She took a breath and her eyes lost the smile. “I don’t know… I don’t think we ever were really close. It got a bit better in the last few years, but…” She shook her head. “I never could live up to her expectations. She tried so hard to turn me into something that I just could not be and did not want to be. She loathed everything I loved… And she really hated Chai! She always said he would get in the way of everything…”

A twitch of a smile showed on Adam’s face. Lilyah seemed to be blissfully oblivious to the fact that Chai certainly had no trouble getting on people’s nerves – and a distinguished Boston lady of English heritage might have had some problems accepting the constant presence of this rather spoilt horse. But maybe the stallion had been only a symptom of a deeper cause.

“I don’t say it was good what my father did to my mother,” she finally said. “And I believe he thought differently about it when he grew older. He was very young when he first saw her, no more than 20 years of age. And he was a wild man when he was young, wild and impulsive.” She looked at him. “But he went against every tradition later when I grew up. He gave me my first horse when I was still little, he taught me to ride, he took me with him on his travels and he treated me like a son. He let me live my life like I wanted. Not many fathers allow their daughters so much freedom, it’s not customary in our country.”

Adam thoughtfully nodded his head. “What was it that your mother tried to turn you into?”

She shrugged her shoulder. “I don’t know. An English lady perhaps. Or an American lady… She never really could make up her mind whether she was English or American.”

“Where was she born?”

“In Boston.”

“That would be American enough for me.” Adam carefully pushed the stallion’s head away to have a better look at her face. “And that makes you half American.”

“I’m my father’s daughter.” She looked down on the railing. “That was what she just couldn’t take. That I had everything from him and nothing from her. That he and I were so close while she and I wouldn’t even know what to talk about.” A sad little smile played around her lips. “Can you imagine that I had about 50 useless dresses that she bought for me from Europe? I hated every one of them, they were uncomfortable, bulky, a plague to put on, and you couldn’t even sit down in them, let alone ride! And when I put one on just to please her she would say I would not know how to wear such a thing! It was hopeless! She just couldn’t accept me like I was and I couldn’t use anything of her.”

“So why did you travel half around the world to deliver her box of letters? It would have done had you mailed it – since she’s dead she never would’ve known.”

“She took my promise…”

“She took your promise to sail to Boston – not to travel 3000 miles across the continent, 1800 of them on horseback. So why, Lilyah?” He put his hand under her chin and raised her face to him. “I want you to think about it.”

She looked up to him and slowly reached up to brush his hand from her chin. Their fingers touched and for one thoughtless moment their fingertips seemed to caress each other until she hastily withdrew her hand. Adam felt a warm feeling growing deep inside of him. She was like a child and yet such a beautiful woman; she seemed so fragile and helpless and still he could feel the wildness in her and an amazing strength.

It was just then that Chai decided to hang his head between them and Adam rolled his eyes when he suddenly had nothing but the stallion’s long mane in front of him. This horse sure did have a talent to get in the way of everything..

This time it was Lilyah who pushed the stallion’s head away, not without gently stroking it. Adam’s romantic moment however was gone and he ruefully thought of her still weakened condition. Even in this darkness he could see that her lips had almost no color.

“Come on, let’s go back in the house.” He gently took her arm.

“I don’t want to go back in there.”

“Now what do you want to do? Sleep in the barn?”

“I have a hotel room in Virginia City.”

“Don’t be ridiculous – that’s a two hour ride from here.”

She helplessly pressed her lips together, knowing she could never ride that long as she already felt her powers leaving. Her head ached mercilessly and the pain in her back seemed to get worse every second, with every even so slight movement. All she longed for was to lie down and sleep.

“And apart from that,” he added with a wry smile, “putting Chai in a livery stable might be calling for trouble.”

“I… it seems…” She searched for words. “I’m afraid your father doesn’t like me very much…”

“Nonsense… don’t let his hollering frighten you.” Adam put one finger under her chin and lifted her head. “He will love you once he gets to know you a little better.”

Lilyah didn’t look very convinced, but she realized that she had no choice – and it was better to go inside now before her legs failed her. She really did not want to be carried again, her breakdown this morning had been embarrassing enough. She thankfully accepted his arm and tried not to walk too stiffly when she had to straighten her knees to not lose control over her legs. Maybe it would be wiser to mind the bed rest, at least for a while.
* * *

 

8. Kisses Gone Wrong 

“Adam, what are you doing?” Ben Cartwright was about to saddle his horse when he spotted his oldest son in a corner of the barn.

“Trying to repair this saddle.” Adam gave his father a look before he concentrated on his work again, forcing an awl through the thick leather. He had replaced the broken straps on Lilyah’s Arab saddle with new ones and was now busy fixing them tight.

“Do you think this makes sense?” Ben stepped closer. “We surely have a saddle she could use.”

“Pa…” His son shook his head. “Have you looked at her horse? He has a very short and broad back, I doubt we have a saddle that might fit. Besides, she’s well used to this saddle, so why should she change?”

“Well…” Ben shrugged his shoulders. “We won’t be able to change her much, anyway.”

Adam’s brow furrowed. “Why should we change her?”

For a moment it appeared as if Ben was caught off guard, he waved his hand disparagingly. “Oh, nothing… It is just…” He sighed. “Valerie wrote in her last letter that she hoped I would invite her daughter into my house and show her how Americans live…”

“And you did!” Adam remarked. “You invited her to stay as long as she wanted yesterday.” He tried to not recall that his father’s invitation after the sad recollection of his loss had not been as hearty and gracious as was usually his manner. It had been almost reluctant.

“Yes…” Ben said hesitantly. “But you see… Valerie had some wrong ideas about how we might live. She obviously thought that we would live in a big and noble house in Boston – that was what we had been dreaming about when we were young. A big house with a garden and lots of roses, and we wanted many children, sons and daughters.” A little smile played around Ben’s lips. “Somehow Valerie seemed to believe that I went on with that and it was her idea that I might help her daughter to discover her American heritage. She thought daughters of Lilyah’s age might help her to adapt to Boston society, to gain some better manners and conduct.”

“Better manners and conduct?” Adam could not prevent his eyes from narrowing.

“Yes. It seems her father had raised her like a son, much to Valerie’s embitterment. He bred Arabian horses in southern Morocco, and as a result all this girl seems to have in her head are horses, especially this black stallion she has. She used to spend all day with that horse, riding around in the desert or going on long rides with her father. Valerie was very sad that her daughter seemed to degrade to a savage.”

Adam’s hand clutched around the awl and it took him a deep breath to give his voice a calm tone.
“I’d be careful about calling people savages whose culture is far older than ours! Apart from this I fail to see how a noble house in Boston is any more suited to discover an American heritage than a ranch in Nevada. I’d rather say she might like it here much better than she would have liked it in Boston. And, Pa…” He looked his father in the face. “She’s not a girl – she’s a grown woman! It’s not ours to change her.”

Ben did realize the underlying sharpness in Adam’s voice, but decided to not address it when his son turned to his work again. For one uncomfortable moment he thought about the possibility that his eldest might have taken this Arab woman to his heart, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Adam was a very rational and level-headed young man who would not let any wild emotions get the better of him. Unlike Joe, he put his brains before his heart and thought long and deep before he acted or indulged in any romances. He might have a soft spot for the woman he had rescued, but he certainly wasn’t blind to the vast differences between them – a lesson he had learned from a previous experience with the Quaker woman Regina Darien. He would not make the same mistake twice. Besides, the dark Arab was way too dark to pass as a white woman, which would create an even greater barrier and probably even collide with the law. Ben hastily brushed the uncomfortable thought away and called himself a fool for thinking that far. She wasn’t even very pretty with her aquiline nose and her serious sphinx-like features, nowhere near as lovely as any of his former girlfriends, for example Laura Dayton. No, there was no possibility that Adam would lose his head over her.

“Well, I’m hoping you’re not wasting too much time on this, and don’t forget your chores on the ranch,” Ben finally said.

Adam narrowed his eyes and forced the awl through the leather once again. “I’ve done my chores alright.”

“Of course, son.” Ben walked over to his horse. “I’ll have a meeting with Henry Miller and won’t be back until late afternoon. Oh, and Adam, I want you to ride over to Hatfield’s place today and talk to him.”

“Yes I can go there…” Adam barely looked up from his work. Lilyah would sleep all day since Dr. Keefer had been so upset about her constant disregard of the bed rest order that he had vigorously enhanced the doses of her sedatives. According to him this bore less risk than having her walking around or even going on a ride before she had sufficiently recovered.

“Hatfield was thoroughly angered by Henry’s and my request,” Ben continued. “Make him understand that we just ask him to not strain the land.”

“What land?”

Ben turned around, baffled. “The open range between the Ponderosa and the Miller ranch! We discussed it in the last meeting of the Cattlemen’s Association!”

“Ah, yeah…” Adam nodded his head. “Yeah I’ll talk to him.”
* * *

 

“May I come in?” Adam asked.

“Please…” Lilyah looked up from her breakfast and smiled, her eyes glued on the guitar he was carrying. “You have a guitar?”

“Yes!” He returned her smile. “Hop Sing told me you’re getting impatient once again, and so I thought I better do something to keep you in bed!” He drew a chair closer and sat down. “After all, it would be extremely impolite to jump up and run off while I’m playing for you.”

“I won’t… and I’m not impatient!” She attempted to put her breakfast plate on the nightstand and gave him a thankful look when he helped. “I just told him I don’t want him to serve me like he does; I am well enough now to get up and go to the kitchen myself. And he has done so much already – look!” She pointed to an open wardrobe. “He has not only washed and mended the clothes I wore at the time of the accident; he has also ironed all those who got wrinkled up in the suitcases.”

“He’s a very meticulous fellow – and he seems to like you a lot!”

“I like him, too – but still I’m fine! And I have to look after Chai.”

“Chai’s on the big pasture next to the house and he vastly enjoys himself rounding up the other horses and chasing them from one corner of the pasture to the other.” Adam laughed. “If he works like this on cattle, we could save a ranch hand!”

“Those poor horses!” Lilyah shook her head. “I’ll have to exercise him. He becomes a plague when he’s bored!”

“You wait for the doctor!” Adam said in mock severity. “And those horses can use a bit of exercise so don’t you worry.”

“Don’t you have any goats to tend to? He’s good at that.”

“Tending goats?”

“Yes!” she laughed. “We used to have a herd of goats and it was my duty to tend to them when I was younger. So I trained Chai to keep them together and I could sit in the shadows and read a book.”

“Now that’s clever!” Adam chuckled. “Why didn’t I have such ideas?”

“You can still start.” A fine smile played around her lips. “It took me less than a year and Chai was the best goat herder in the area!”

“My father’s face sure would be worth it,” he laughed. “You think you could train him on cattle?”

“I can try.” She looked on the guitar. “You’ll play?”

He began to play a soft tune and enjoyed the light in her eyes as she listened with obvious pleasure. She looked so much better now and he silently congratulated Dr. Keefer for his idea to put her on a stronger sedative. She had slept the full previous day and the benefits did show. Her face had lost its ashen paleness and for the first time the soft golden tone of her true complexion could be seen. The wound at her temple had lost its grim look and seemed to be merely a bruise. Once again he admired the versatility of her small face – the solemn serenity when she was serious and the delightful lightness of her smile. Her laughter was like a sunrise.

“You just play wonderfully…” she said softly. “I could listen to you for hours.”

“Thank you.” He found it increasingly hard to concentrate on the strings and could not keep his eyes from her delicate features, anxious to not appear as staring.

“Hey, I know this!” For one moment it seemed as if she wanted to jump out of bed until she caught herself and hastily rearranged the quilt that covered her. Her eyes wandered to her instrument’s case.

Adam had followed her glance and smiled. “You want your own instrument?”

“Oh… I’m not sure…” She hesitated. “I just thought I might play along, but…”

“I would love you to play along.” He got up and took the strange lute out of its case. “What kind of instrument is this?”

“It’s an oud – an Arab lute!” She took it and started tuning. “I’m not even sure if it will work. We tune a bit differently than you do.”

“Let me hear.” He took up his guitar again and watched her, listening to the first sounds. The oud had a very soft, dark tone to it and he thought that this sound matched her whole personality.

“D – G – A – D – G – C..” He raised an eyebrow. So this was the Arab tuning.

“What?” She gave him a puzzled look.

“Your tuning – D – G – A – D – G – C,” he clarified. “We tune E – A – D – G – B – E.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and it was quite clear that she had no idea what he was talking about.

“You can’t read music?”

“Uhm… no… I just play it the way my father taught me.” She strummed the strings and began the very song that he had played before – an old English air called ‘Scarborough Fair’. It sounded a little strange in the oud’s tuning but nevertheless beautiful, with a slight oriental touch to it.

Adam felt a deep warm feeling that started in his heart and continued in his eyes, resulting in a wide smile. Right now she appeared to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, and for a while he just sat and watched her play, enjoying the lovely picture in front of him.

“Why don’t you play?” She looked up.

“Oh…” Adam continued to play, trying to complement the oud and harmonize with the different tuning. It took a few tries but then he found his melody and the two instruments played together as if they were made for each other.

Lilyah enjoyed the consonance and admired the skillful way in which he supported and enhanced her playing. She wasn’t the best oud player in the world and never had reached the mastery of the instrument that her father had possessed, but still she loved to play and let her thoughts and feelings float freely with the tunes. Adam accompanied her with such artistry that her own playing seemed much better than it actually was and this was just a wonderful feeling. She could not help but watch him whenever she thought he was concentrated on his playing. His face looked so much softer in his musing and his big hands seemed so tender on the strings. His black hair was not as strictly combed back as usual and showed how curly it actually was. She liked it much better this way.

“Who taught you this song?” he asked without interrupting his play. “Your mother?”

“No, Marfa did…”

“Marfa?”

“My nanny… She knew all those old English songs.”

“Do you know the lyrics?”

She nodded and gave him a little smile. When the melody started again she softly began to sing.

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
For once she was a true love of mine..”

Adam looked up in amazement – she had a wonderful voice, a soft dark soprano. He took a breath and intonated the second verse.

“Have her make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seam nor fine needle work
And then she’ll be a true love of mine”

This time it was Lilyah who raised her head in surprise – he had the most marvelous baritone she had ever heard, a warm, soft-timbred voice that touched her deep inside.

“Go on!” she begged.

“No, you go on!”

“No, you.”

He chuckled. “We’ll take turns..”

“I’ve forgotten the next verse.”

“Just a minute, young lady!” His hazel eyes sparkled with laughter. “We’ll stay honest with each other, alright?”

“The song adresses a woman. It sounds stupid if I sing it.”

“It does not!” Adam smirked. “And you could still sing ‘he’ and ‘him’ instead of ‘she’ and ‘her’.”

Lilyah chuckled. “What kind of man would that be to do such things? Weaving and running around with a basket of flowers?” She raised one finger. “You sing the next two verses about the weaving and washing and I the following two with the land and the plowing.”

Adam laughed. “You’ve got a deal!” And he proceeded to sing.

“Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And gather it all with a basket of flowers
And then she’ll be a true love of mine

Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
where water never sprung nor drop of rain fell
And then she’ll be a true love of mine”

Lilyah enjoyed the soulful voice, she could have listened to him all day. She almost sighed when he finished but she took her turn.

“Have him find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between sea water and over the sand
And then he’ll be a true love of mine

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
And then he’ll be a true love of mine”

They were so absorbed in their song that they both started when they heard the knock at the door.

“May I come in?”

“Dr. Keefer!” Adam put down the guitar and stood up when the old doctor entered the room.

“I’ve heard some wonderful music.” The doctor placed his bag on the table. “I hope I’m not too much of an intrusion.”

“No, no, not at all.” Adam smiled. “In fact we’d been waiting for you. The young lady thinks she’s well enough to walk around – again!”

“We’ll see, we’ll see.” Dr. Keefer turned around to him. “Young man, you know the procedure.”

Adam raised both hands. “Alright, I’m already gone.” He gave Lilyah a wink and left the room.
* * *

 

“No rides!” Adam grinned and leaned against the door frame. Lilyah obviously had not lost a moment’s time when Dr. Keefer had just left a few minutes ago – and there she already stood clad in her beautiful brown-golden gown that had proven before to be a good riding dress. His grin intensified. “The doctor gave me explicit instructions that I intend to follow closely!”

“But this makes no sense!” Lilyah protested. “Walking myself is much more exhausting than sitting on a horse.”

“We won’t walk to Virginia City,” he retorted. “Only a few steps around the yard and to the pasture.”

“But…”

“And you agreed to the doctor’s orders, did you?”

She pouted. “But only because it’s impolite to talk back to an elderly man! Old age must be honored, after all.”

“Ah!” He chuckled. “And you think you honor him if you disobey his orders as soon as he turns his back?”

She pulled a face. “I wouldn’t exactly put it this way…” She gave him a look from under long eyelashes. “In my view, I honor his work if I prove that…”

“… you can ride?” Adam laughed. “You have an amazing sense of logic, my dear, but no.” He touched her shoulder. “We will have a very short walk to the pasture, say ‘hello’ to Chai and then come back here – and don’t you forget you have me on your arm, so no escape attempts.” His fingers touched her hair. “And when we’re back we might continue working on our ‘Scarborough Fair’. We have not finished it and I think we could do some rearrangements in our respective parts – make it a real duet for guitar and oud.”

“That would be nice.” She averted his eyes when she felt the caressing touch of his hand, knowing that she should not let him do this and yet unable to push his hand away. There was something about him that made her want him as a friend, and even saw him as a friend already. His nearness felt so familiar, so warm, so well and dearly trusted.

Adam gently lifted her chin and took a deep breath when she looked up to him with those large dark eyes. “A thousand and one nights, they say…” he murmured softly. “I see a thousand and one life times…”

And then he closed his arms around her and kissed her.

For one moment she just stood still and let his lips caress hers until she suddenly gasped. What was she doing? What was he doing? She felt the tears shooting into her eyes as she vehemently struggled to break free, so hard that she almost fell backwards when he released her.

“Lilyah…” He held her again and if only to keep her from falling, but she furiously pulled back.

“No!” She grabbed the first thing she could lay her hands on and threw it at him. “How could you, how could you do this to me?”

“Lilyah, please…” Before he knew it a glass from her cupboard came flying in his direction, followed by a hairbrush. “Lilyah!” He ducked when a plate crashed next to him against the doorpost. What a temper! “Come on, Lilyah, I didn’t mean to…”

“Get out of here!” she screamed at him. “Oh, how could you?” The coffee cup almost hit him.

Adam retreated from the room into the hallway. It might be better to let her calm down before trying to talk to her any further. Much to his surprise Lilyah took after him, her eyes flaming, and he wasn’t fast enough to escape a small decor box hitting his shoulder.

“Lilyah, please…” He raised both hands. “I apologize… I didn’t mean to… Lilyah, no!” His eyes widened as she grabbed a green bottle from a small table in the hallway. Joe’s French Pinaud Cologne – if she would manage to crash that on him he would smell like a Sunday afternoon’s lady’s social for at least a week.

The bottle came flying and Adam ducked sideways, not noticing how dangerously close he was to the stairs. He tripped and in spite of his attempts to grab a hold of something, he clattered down the staircase crashing through the railing, landing hard on the floor of the great room.

Lilyah’s rage vaporized in a split moment and left only deep shock. What had she done? If he was hurt, she would never forgive herself.

Adam sat on the floor and almost laughed until he caught the sight of his family gathered around the table in front of the hearth, stupefied, gaping at him. What on earth where they doing there at this time of the day? This was certainly one of the moments he could have done without them…

“Adam?” A dumbfounded Ben got up and walked over, staring at his oldest son sitting amidst the pieces of the railing. Lilyah stood at the top of the stairs, both hands covering her face, the dark eyes looking over her fingertips widened with shock.

“Adam, what happened?”

“Nothing, Pa.”

“Nothing? Are you hurt, son?”

“No.” Adam slowly turned around and looked upstairs, noting well the relief on Lilyah’s face. Her eyes still were so huge from the shock and when her hands sank down he could see her lips trembling. A small smile grew around his mouth and he could not resist winking at her.

She gasped and all her anger rekindled again as she flew around and stormed back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

The smile was still in Adam’s eyes when he got up from the floor, in spite of the nagging thought that he shouldn’t have overwhelmed her like this, and in spite of the rather embarrassing situation. But deep inside of him he knew without a doubt that he had found his love.

“We heard the crashing and breaking of china.” Hoss was nearly bursting with curiosity. “Wha’ happened up there, Adam?”

“That’s none of your business!” Adam replied and started picking up the broken pieces of wood. What he needed now were a few minutes to himself, to sort his thoughts, to contemplate his feelings – and to figure a good way to make up with Lilyah. “Don’t worry, Pa, I’ll repair the railing.”

“You’ve kissed her!” Little Joe blurted out, the green eyes glittering with mischief as he noticed the slightly exasperated look in his oldest brother’s eyes.

“Kissed her?” Hoss repeated in disbelief while his face already broadened with a grin. “Adam, what went wrong? Did you forget to sing ‘Early one morning’ first?”

The two brothers burst out laughing, knocking each other’s sides with delight.

“He probably picked the wrong poetry!” Little Joe howled with laughter. “Hey, Adam, I’ve heard Hank Meyers is in town. Maybe he has some advice for you…”

“Or some singing lessons…” Hoss roared and wiped the tears from his eyes while Little Joe almost doubled over. The two really enjoyed themselves.

“You two are just so incredibly entertaining!” Adam shook his head and went for the door with the pieces of the railing.

Ben did not laugh as he watched his oldest son leave the house. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe what just happened.
* * *

 

9. Agreements 

Lilyah stood a bit forlorn in the yard between the rustic ranch house and the huge barn, trying to gather enough courage to proceed to the barn where Adam was. Hop Sing had told her where to find him, and she had been glad that the friendly cook was the only one she had met after she had made her way down the staircase. She liked the stocky man a lot and his kindness always cheered her up. The same could not be said about the silver-haired man who owned this place, and it became increasingly awkward to continue staying in his house as his guest, when it was so abundantly clear that he would be glad if she were gone. She really should leave, the sooner, the better. Maybe it was time to return home.

Home… A slight sadness crept over her face as she thought of the noble, pillar-decorated building with its arched canopies and its shaded terraces, its spacious rooms and the marbled bathing chambers, the beautiful gardens which maintained their green lushness even during the hot summer months. She missed the flower pots lining the yards, the colorful mosaic wells and the palm trees providing shade, and she missed the white stables with their pillared fronts, the horses roaming free all around until they rushed in in the evenings for their meal of camel milk and dates. She missed her father, his laugh that had never aged, his eyes that had never lost their fire.

But another pair of eyes threatened to move the memories aside. Hazel eyes, twinkling and warm, in a face adorned with cheeky dimples…

Lilyah brushed the image away and straightend up. She had to apologize, it was the proper thing to do. And that was all.
* * *

 

“Adam?” Her voice was very subdued.

He looked up from the wooden post he was staining, a piece that would go into the staircase railing once the stain had dried. Lilyah stood in the barn’s doorway, a small shy figure showing all the signs of discomfort, her hands clasped together.

“Hop Sing told me I would find you here.” She slowly came closer and collected herself. “I… I want to apologize. I… didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your family.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said warmly, putting down the stain brush. That she would apologize to him was the last thing he would have expected. “This family is hard in taking.”

“Still… I shouldn’t have lost my temper. You could have been hurt.” She straightened up and raised her chin. “But you shouldn’t have done what you did either! I know you didn’t mean anything bad, but you just can’t do that to an Arab woman!”

“Do what?” He knew he was mischievous but he could not resist.

She looked at him, stupefied. “Well… that! What you did! It’s… it’s considered very offensive!”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “I certainly did not mean to offend you.”

“I know this!” A trace of relief echoed in her voice and she came another step closer, softly touching his arm. She still felt bad for his fall and for her loss of temper and she was determined to make up for it. He had been so kind and helpful, he had not deserved to be treated like that.

“You see…” she continued in a lecturing tone. “Arab women just don’t… do that!”

“What? Kissing?” he asked innocently and refrained from showing any amusement. Her small tranquil face had such a serious expression as if she was explaining some most sacred and time-honored customs. Which she probably was.

“Yes, that.” Her hand still rested on his arm. “Unless they are married, of course. Before that, Arab women must not even be touched by any men. Had my father seen what you did, he would have taken it as a grave offense of our family honor!”

“I see…” Adam nodded somberly and looked at her hand. “You’re just touching me.”

She hastily withdrew her hand. “That’s something different.”

“In what way?” He still had a most austere face, but a tiny spark of laughter was already dancing in his eyes – and intensifying when he realized that she was obviously unable to come up with an answer.

“Well…” She assumed a dignified composure. “It’s good that we talked about it and everything is clear now.”

“Oh, just wait a minute!” He took her arm. “It’s not that clear to me.” He almost chuckled when he saw her dark eyes getting larger and larger. Boldly fighting down the impulse to laugh, he showed a sincerely interested face and administered strict control over the edges of his mouth. “So in order to kiss and touch an Arab woman one has to marry her, right?”

“Right!” She inconspicuously tried to free her arm but he just as casually didn’t let go, pretending not to notice her efforts.

“And if I marry you?” For one heartbeat his amusement was mixed with an almost anxious desire to see how she would react.

“You can’t marry me!” She finally freed her arm, giving up all attempts to do it inconspicuously, and added with grand fervor, “I am free!”

His eyebrows climbed up. “Well… I can understand that I can’t buy you because you’re free – but why couldn’t I marry you?”

“Ah, where’s the difference?” She pushed the air through her nose and quickly brought a few steps of security distance between them. “Isn’t it all the same? And I will never marry! I don’t have to!”

“You don’t have to?” he asked. “What do you mean by ‘don’t have to’?”

“Nobody can ever force me to marry!” She pretentiously sorted through her robes. “I’ve fought for my freedom and I’ve won it and my father granted it to me! I will be free all my life!”

Adam scratched his neck and tried to contemplate on this. “How have you won it?” he finally asked.

She adopted a proud posture and replied dignifiedly, “In a horse race!”

For one moment he stood dumbstruck and fought to keep his expression under control. Something inside of him tickled him to laugh but she was so grave that she probably wouldn’t have taken it lightly.

“A horse race…” He felt every muscle in his cheeks straining with the effort to keep a straight face.

“Yes!” Lilyah scrutinized his features. No matter how serious he looked, she still could see the lights dancing in his hazel eyes, like funny little sparks giggling and chuckling.

“You don’t understand!” She tried to keep her rising temper at bay. “In our country a woman gets married as soon as she turns sixteen or seventeen, or even at a younger age. Her father arranges for her marriage and picks out a husband! This is the tradition – and when I turned seventeen my father wanted me to get married, as well! But I didn’t want to, and I told him so!” Her eyes seemed to recollect the memory of what apparently had been a heroic battle. “I told him in no uncertain terms that I would never marry, that I would rather die! We fought over it, and when we couldn’t agree we asked the imam for advice…”

“The imam?”

“The pious man! Something like your priest.” She made a few steps and turned gracefully. “The imam suggested we should let Allah decide. And so we did!”

“In a horse race…” Adam crossed his arms and shifted his weight on one leg, still struggling to maintain a serious face.

“Yes! It was me on Chai against my father on Jibril. We raced over a distance of one and a half farasach – that would be about five miles!” She proudly raised her head. “Chai and I won by almost four lengths!”

Adam scratched his temple. “That’s very impressive…”

“Of course it is!” She gave him a suspicious look. He had a way of lowering his head and watching her from under his brows that brought her to her feet. “You don’t understand what it means for an Arab woman to be free!” Her eyes locked with his. “Free to live like she wants, free to talk like she wants, free to do what she wants! And I fought for this freedom! Most women can only dream about being free, but I am free! And I will always be free!”

Adam nodded his head and wondered how much sense it would make to ask her what on earth marriage had to do with being or not being free. A woman whose own father had bought her mother from her abductors and practically kept her in captivity all her life might have some difficulties to see these things with any objectivity. And wasn’t it a bit early to talk about marriage? He watched her beautiful frame, her adorable face and those wonderful eyes which seemed to hold a world for him, and a little warm smile stole over his lips.

Lilyah spotted it at once.

“You just don’t understand!” She brusquely turned her back on him.

“Oh, I think I do.” He pursed his lips. “I just wonder… what about love?”

“Love?” Her brow furrowed as she gave him a look over her shoulder. “You mean this malady that ruined both my parents’ life?” She made a disparaging movement with her hand. “I will never fall in love!”

“I understand…” Adam nodded his head seriously. “You lost that in a horse race.”

She so vehemently flew around that the silk of her gown swirled all about her, and Adam saw the image of the San Francisco Queen Cleopatra rising up in his imagination again.

“I won this race!” Her face darkened with an upcoming thunderstorm as he so casually crossed his arms again. “And you are not taking me seriously at all!”

“But I try…” He looked at her with an air of innocent sincerity, while the chuckling sparks she had seen in his eyes before started tucking at the corners of his mouth. “I really do.”

Her eyes flamed up. “Don’t you do this!”

“What? Take you seriously?”

“No!” She stomped her foot. “Oh, I hate it when you do this!”

“When I do what?”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say while his eyes were laughing. Waving her hands in a desperate search for words she finally burst out. “Standing there.. like.. like.. like that!”

“Oh!” Adam looked around and flashed her a smile. “Well… if you’ll just run and get me a chair, I can sit down.”

Lilyah’s temper exploded and her hand flew against him, only Adam had no problem catching her wrist and holding it. She froze in place when she realized how close she was to him – and how big he suddenly appeared at so close a range. She barely reached to his chin and his broad chest seemed to make her own frame even smaller. His hand could easily close his fingers around her arm. Worst of all was the warmth of his body which was so overwhelming and unsettling, threatening to stir something in her that she didn’t want to deal with. And she had lost her temper again when she had been so determined to handle this with calm and consideration.

“Let me go…” She didn’t look up, her eyes fixed on the black fabric of his shirt.

“Only if you promise to not throw anything at me.”

She felt the heat rising in her face and knew that she had visibly blushed. How embarrassing…

“Lilyah, I’m sorry.” His voice was very tender. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you.”

She moved a little, without looking up to him. His soft words soothed her so much that she wondered about herself. Why did it mean so much to her what he thought?

“It’s certainly quite an achievement for a woman to break out of old traditions,” he continued while noting the fragile jewelry that kept her head veil in place. The veil did not seem to have much of a function when its gauzy lace hardly hid anything and the piece itself did not even cover all her hair, but it surely was a unique finery. He resisted the almost childish temptation to play around with those dangling golden trinkets.

“It was just the horse race that took me a bit by surprise,” he went on and slowly let go of her wrist as he felt that she had relaxed. “A rather uncommon way to decide on such an important matter.”

“It was the only decision that my father would have accepted.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if to shield herself from his nearness. “The imam knew this of course – he was our imam for as long as anyone could think. He had known my father ever since he was a boy.”

“Sounds like a wise man to me.”

“Oh, yes, he was…” She finally lifted her eyes and looked into his face. There still was a smile in his hazel eyes, but it didn’t make fun of her. It was warm and tender and… she hastily made a few steps back.

“Shall we go and see Chai? I’m finished here.” He put the stain back into the shelf. “The pieces will have to dry now, anyway.”

“That would be nice!” She regained some of her confidence as she watched him clearing his work place. After all, nothing had happened. She had apologized for causing him to fall down the staircase and she had made him understand that she could not be kissed. She nodded to herself. He probably had had a little problem first to understand Arab tradition, but he certainly would mind it from now on.

“Alright, let’s go.” He put a hand on her shoulder and cocked his head as he noticed her befuddled look. “Something’s wrong?”

“Err…”

“Oh!” He made big eyes. “Is it that I’m touching you?” His hand softly moved down to her arm. “Don’t you think nothing of it. This is just a gesture of politeness towards a beautiful lady. You see, in this country a man would feel very hurt if his courtesy would be rejected.”

“I understand…” She scanned his face. “But you won’t do… that again…? I mean… you will honor the Arab tradition?”

“Of course.” He bit down a smirk and pulled a candid face. Hadn’t she just made a great ado about breaking out of her traditional role? Now all of a sudden tradition was important again – she really had a most enchanting way of twisting everything to suit her needs and likings.

Her hand slowly slid on his arm again and she admitted to herself that she wanted to be kind to him, that she wanted him to know she liked him. And as long as he would not think of her as an unchaste or imoral woman, there really was nothing wrong with it.

“Let’s go?” She looked up to his face, noting the dimples in his cheeks.

His eyes were caressing her. “Let’s go!”
* * *

 

 

10. The Morn Awakes 

“Good morning.” Adam’s face lit up when he saw Lilyah coming out of her room. “What are you doing up so early in the morning?”

“Good morning.” Her eyes smiled back at him. “I’m going downstairs to look for my breakfast. I don’t want Hop Sing to serve it to me, the poor little man is so over-worked already.”

Adam knitted his brows while a knowing smile sneaked on his lips. “Did he say so?”

Lilyah looked up, suddenly alert. “Oh, no… no! Not a sound! It’s just…” She searched for words. “I just had this impression while watching him. I might be wrong, though… He certainly didn’t say anything about it.”

Adam chuckled. He could vividly picture the Chinese cook muttering and grumbling under his breath, complaining about his many hardships. “Don’t you take seriously what he says. He’s been threatening to quit for years now, and his complaints about his hard life have become a household staple.” He laughed as he saw the expression on her face, revealing that she had been caught.

“This is a wonderful dress!” he added softly, honestly admiring the embroidered, dark red garment, an exquisite pastiche of velvet, silk and brocade. He really loved those wide flowing robes she wore. “You look lovely in it!”

“Thank you.” Her heart made a little jump. “I’ve bought the fabrics in Marrakech; you don’t find any of these in Agadir.”

“You sewed it yourself?”

“No, Marfa did.” She hesitated for only a moment when he offered her his arm, but then her small hand slipped all too willingly on his forearm.

“She sure knew what suits you best.” He fought down the impulse to place his hand on hers and walked her down the staircase.
* * *

 

“Miss Lilyah having bleakfast with family, yes?” Hop Sing beamed all over his face as he quickly put another set of dishes on the table. “Hop Sing make vely special flapjacks, with vely special cleam, just for little Miss!”

“Thank you, Hop Sing, that’s so nice of you.” Lilyah gave him a smile and sat down. “I really fell in love with your flapjacks.”

“Thank you, Missy!” Hop Sing radiated with delight as he scurried back to the kitchen, not without shooting a haughty look at Adam that said as much as, ‘Finally someone appreciates my value!’

Adam smirked and poured Lilyah and himself some coffee. They were alone at the table as of yet, neither his father nor his brothers were up.

“You’re an early bird, just like me…” He watched her as she filled three full spoons of sugar into her coffee cup. Quite a sweet mouth, by the looks of it..

“Yes, I love to be up early. Quite frankly, this is even a little late for me.” She looked out of the window. “My favorite time of the day is the early morning, when the sun rises and the dawn changes into a new day.”

Adam smiled. “‘The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays; on ev’ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays…'”

“Yes!” Her eyes warmed up. “That’s beautiful!”

“Phillis Wheatly…”

“Never heard the name.” She gave him a pleading look. “Could you recite more?”

“She was an American poet,” he explained. “Do you want to hear the whole poem?”

She eagerly nodded her head, looking at him in anticipation.

“Alright..” He took a sip of his coffee and started,
“Attend my lays, ye ever honour’d nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song…”

Lilyah closed her eyes and savored his rich baritone which was so perfectly suited to recite such poetry. She could have listened to him for hours on end, and smiled as he went on.

“Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies;
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev’ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather’d race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume..”

“Oh come on, Adam, that makes the milk turn sour!” Little Joe’s voice brought an untimely end to the poem.

“Poor little lady, she’s half asleep already.” Hoss followed right after him.

Adam rolled his eyes as his brothers noisily took their seats, giving Lilyah a rueful look. “I believe you remember these two nuisances I’m plagued with…”

“Yes…” A little smile played around her lips as she looked from Hoss to Joe, seated opposite from her at the table. These three brothers really were as different from each other as they could be. Hoss was so big and broad and his blue eyes spoke of warm-hearted kindness; Little Joe on the other hand reminded her of her cousin Farouk – frolicking, witty and a bit mischievous. Against Hoss’s huge frame he looked small, but then Hoss certainly would dwarf anyone sitting next to him. It seemed odd that those three brothers looked so very dissimilar from each other, very much unlike her own family were every stranger could tell the relationship from a mile apart.

“The poem was beautiful,” she said, “and Adam’s voice really gave life and spirit to it.”

“To the poem perhaps,” Joe quipped. Her solemn, almost aristocratic face amused him beyond means. After all, this was the same young lady that had sent his oldest brother rolling down the staircase just the day before. Seemed as if old Adam had sparked a little more life and spirit than he could handle… Joe grimaced in his attempt not to laugh out loud at the thought. This promised to be some fun, oh yeah!

“What are you doing up so early, anyway?” Adam gave his kid brother a miffed look. Turning to Lilyah, he added, “He usually wouldn’t roll out of bed until close to noon, if no one dragged him out before.”

“That’s true!” Hoss grinned. “But, ever since the grass… that mighty fine stallion of yours broke… uh… was seen in… uhm… near the kitchen, Lil’ Joe here thinks he might miss something.” He hastily gulped down a bite of his eggs.

“Oh..” Lilyah’s eyes wandered questioningly to Adam. “I hope Chai didn’t misbehave…”

“No.” He smiled. “Not at all!”

“Good morning!” Ben Cartwright was the last to appear at the table. “Good morning, Miss Lilyah. What a nice surprise to have you with us downstairs for breakfast!”

“Good morning, Mister Cartwright…” she replied politely. She could still feel his reservations about her and it made her uncomfortable.

“I hope you feel better this morning!” Ben helped himself to a cup of coffee and glanced quickly over her appearance. He certainly wished she wouldn’t dress in such an outlandish manner. “One of the boys could take you on a tour across the Ponderosa. Have you seen the lake yet?”

“No, Mister Cartwright.” She tried a little smile. What boys? Involuntarily her eyes wandered over to Adam. “I would love to see it, though…”

“We’ll let the doctor decide that.” Adam gave her an assuring smile. “He has promised to come here today first thing in the morning; and if he doesn’t object, I’ll show you the lake!”

“Why should he?” Ben lifted his eyebrows, looking from one to another. “He certainly won’t have any objections against a ride in the buggy?”

“I’m afraid Chai isn’t used to a buggy, Mister Cartwright…” Lilyah broke off when Joe snickered and Hoss almost choked on a bite. The two brothers quickly regained composure and ardently concentrated on their breakfast.

“Yeah, we… guessed as much.” Adam chuckled into himself. “Seeing how well you are I don’t think Dr. Keefer would have anything against you taking a ride – on Chai!”

“I really hope so.” Lilyah dedicated herself to another flapjack and tried not to look over to the silver-haired man. She was glad that Adam had seated her close to himself, his nearness gave her a sense of familiarity and security – and the feeling that she was welcome.

“I’m going to ride over to the Miller ranch today,” Ben started after he had finished his eggs. “We will have to talk to Hatfield once more.” He looked at his oldest son and his voice took a slightly reproachful tone. “Adam, it seems you didn’t make yourself very clear when you talked to him. He still has his cattle on the range.”

“Where else should he put it?”

Ben sat straight. “What was that again?”

Adam pursed his lips. “Hatfield doesn’t have the land to support his herd. He has to graze it on the open range or he loses his stock.”

His father’s brow furrowed. “Adam, it was you who warned of overgrazing this land! You told us that the wild grass is getting destroyed! It was you who made both Henry Miller and me take our cattle from this range to give the grass time to grow back!” Slamming his napkin on the table, he added, “And we did not withdraw our cattle just so that Hatfield’s herd can trample all over that grass!”

“Then buy the land.” Adam seemed unfazed by his father’s outburst. “As long as it is open range, Hatfield has every right in the world to graze his cattle on it.”

“Oh so? And we don’t?” Ben’s brow darkened. “May I remind you that it was you who chastized us for putting our herd there, which according to your logic would have just the same right to be there?”

Adam gave him a sidelong glance. “It’s quite a difference between Hatfield’s fifty or sixty head and that vast herd of nearly a thousand head that you just had to buy from the Californians, against all better knowledge.”

His father’s forefinger shot up. “Now don’t get started on that again, we’ve been through that before and it’s all said and done. Besides, we have a guest at the table…” He broke off, listening to a sound from outside. “Who could that be?”

“The doctor, I guess.” Adam got up and went to the door.

It was indeed Dr. Keefer, explaining his early arrival with his being called to a childbirth before dawn. Adam smiled as Lilyah eagerly followed the old doctor into her room for another examination. She couldn’t wait to go for a ride and he had no doubt that the doctor would give his permission this time.
* * *

 

“Ho, Chai, ho!” Adam could not help laughing as the black stallion jumped out off the barn, tossing his hind legs into the air. “Easy, boy!”

Chai reared and loudly neighed out all his excitement. He knew exactly what it meant when someone came and put a saddle on him. He had been defiant at first when this had not been the same man who used to do it once in a while before, but then he had remembered that this was Adam. And now he could not wait for his mistress to appear and take him on a long, happy ride. It did not bother him the least bit that he utterly spooked the other two horses that were led out of the barn.

“Dang, Adam, you can’t put that little gal on that firecracker!” Hoss did not know whether to laugh or to swear as he fought to keep Adam’s chestnut gelding and his father’s buckskin from running for dear life. His older brother sure had some trouble himself keeping the stallion under control who jumped in circles and forced Adam to turn around like a spinning top.

“What do we bet?” Adam laughed and finally managed to force the stallion to a stand – or at least to keep him from springing around any further. Dancing on the spot, Chai tossed his head up and down that his long mane flew. His tail once again was high in the air and finally caused Hoss to laugh.

Ben shook his head in displeasure at the ruckus in his yard. The dancing stallion was dolled up in full Arab tack – tassles on the bridle, tassles on the breast-plate, tassles hanging from the reins, and on top of it all this outlandish saddle. The excessively long mane was badly in need for a trimming, too.

“Looks like a circus horse…” he grumbled, loud enough for Adam to hear, and unaware that Lilyah had just stepped out of the house at the side of Dr. Keefer.

She pretended she had not heard the remark, and the joy of seeing her horse quickly banished any other thought.

“Chai!”

The stallion whinnied and jumped in the air with literally all fours, bucking backwards until Adam finally let go of the reins, watching with amusement as Chai rushed up to his mistress who greeted her equine friend with the utmost affection.

“You’ve saddled him for me!” She gave Adam a surprised smile. Chai had never let anyone saddle him except for her father, not even their old and trusted Ibrahim could have put a saddle on his back. And yet Adam did it… he surely was a very special man!

“It was my pleasure.” Adam returned her smile and offered one hand as mounting help for her. She hesitated only a second, then she put her little foot in his hand and let him lift her on Chai’s back. For one short moment Adam felt a wave of warmth sweeping his heart. This simple little act had had such a familiarity, such a closeness, as if they had done this a thousand times.

Chai neighed happily, jumping backwards, half rearing up, while Lilyah sorted her robes as if nothing unusual was happening. She certainly had a sure seat and was as eagerly anticipating the ride as her horse was.

“Chai, Chai… wait a second!” She laughed as she reined him in. “Adam, he’s so excited! We gotta run!”

“Coming, dear lady, coming.” Adam mounted his own horse and caught her laughing eyes. “Let’s go!”

Chai stormed off as if the devil were after him and Adam nudged his chestnut into a gallop to keep up.

“Dadburnit!” Hoss exclaimed with some awe. “That little filly sure has spunk!”

Dr. Keefer looked up, startled. “I believe it is a stallion, Hoss…”

Hoss squinted at the old doctor and burst out laughing.
* * *

 

Adam halted his horse on the top of a small hill. From here he had a good view on the meadows below – and on the very unusual rider racing along the wide plain. Lilyah and Chai obviously enjoyed themselves at a full gallop, while his chestnut was visibly relieved that he was not forced to run after the fiery Arabian. Adam had quickly realized that it made no sense to try and keep up; the black stallion was simply too fast. He let out a wistful little sigh and thought of the hayburner, this long-legged race horse he and Hoss had owned for a short while a few years ago. He sure wished he had not lost that horse; it would have been nice to join in Lilyah’s wild and joyful ride.

Making himself comfortable in the saddle, Adam watched and smiled inside himself as he enjoyed every detail of what he saw. Lilyah sure could ride and she was a sight to behold on horseback, with her robes flying and her long hair fluttering in the wind, only loosely held back by her head veil. She seemed to have no problem with this as she got up in the stirrups to lean wide forward over the stallion’s crest during gallop. Adam noticed that she held the reins mainly with one hand, having the other wrapped in the stallion’s voluminous mane, perhaps to keep the horse’s long hair from being swept in her face when Chai ran with his head held high. Drinking the wind, as it had been described in a book Adam had read.

Lilyah pulled Chai up into a light trot and looked around for Adam. What a shame he had no horse to match hers, or even join her in a little race. For one moment a trace of sadness swept over her face as she thought of her father who had never passed up a chance for a race, but then she spotted Adam and her face lit up. He looked so handsome as he sat on his horse, all dressed in black as it seemed to be his manner, his face shadowed by his broad black hat. When she had first come to the Western part of this country she had thought that these men all looked funny with those ridiculous hats on their heads, but she had changed her mind. Adam certainly looked good with his, even though it made him darker and took away some of the softness in his face. She wheeled her horse around and rode up to him.

“Adam, I’m sorry…” Her face still showed the joy of the ride. “But I had to race him! He needed it.”

“Seems he wasn’t the only one.” He smiled and watched her fastening a loose strand of her hair to the head veil’s golden trinkets. This headgear really was a good way to keep her long hair from getting in her way, allowing her to wear it flowing down her back – much to his silent admiration.

“No!” She laughed. “I love these rides just as much! I really missed them the last few days.” She looked around. “And it’s a beautiful land to ride in!”

“Yeah, it is…” He scanned her face. “You like it?”

“Yes, it’s more like home…”

“More than what?”

“Oh!” She gave him a smile. “More like the green… You see, when I looked around in Boston, and then later started the ride in St. Louis, everything was so lush and green. The grass, the trees, the bushes, there were thousand shades of green – so beautiful!” Her eyes shone in the memory. “We always think the Sous is the most fertile area in Morocco, and it most likely is, but when you compare it to that green in St. Louis, it’s really more a savannah. And I was so enchanted by all that green.”

Adam listened, watching her small face so lively reflecting her speech, her hand stressing every word. She did not even care to keep one hand on the reins all the time as she went on.

“But when we reached this part of the country, where the earth turned brown and dusty again, I knew deep in my heart that the green wasn’t for me. Because I felt like coming home, back to something I know.” She laughed. “Everybody in the stage coach was complaining about the dust, and I thought how I’d missed it. Call me a child of the desert!”

“I think I understand what you mean,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a bit like what I feel in regard to big cities – like San Francisco, or Boston. They are gorgeous, I revel in culture and civilization, but after a while I cannot breathe anymore and I have to come back to this.” He made a sweeping movement with his hand, covering the wide landscape around them.

“Ah, the green wasn’t that bad.” She reined in Chai who started to become restless, dancing on the spot. “But I know this feeling about the cities! I feel like this when I’m in Marrakech, or Fes, or any other big city! They’re wonderful, as you say, and I just love to stroll along their big souks – but then the noise kills me, the narrowness kills me, the many people become unbearable, and all I want is to get on my horse and run!” She patted Chai’s neck. “And like you said, I can’t seem to breathe anymore when I stay too long!”

“Oh yeah, I second that about the noise, the narrowness and the people. What is a souk?”

“A market, or rather a quarter full of markets.” She studied his face. “You love to be out here in nature?”

“Yes.” A smile played on his lips. “It’s the best way for me to be alone with my thoughts, my mind, my senses. No people, no hassles – just soothing and healing.” He laughed and his hand made a slow wave as he recited from Shakespeare, “And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.”

“‘As you like it.‘” Lilyah cocked her head. “I hope I do not disturb you with your thoughts, your mind and your senses.”

“No.” His eyes warmed up. “You’re rather the one thing I’ve been missing…”

Her lips parted as she contemplated what he said, her eyes nervously averted his. “Adam, shall we ride on? Chai is getting restless.”

Adam chuckled. All that racing around would have made any other horse dead tired – and this Arabian stallion looked as if he could do it all over again.

“If you don’t mind an hour’s ride, I’ll show you the lake.”

“As if I ever would.” She laughed and nudged Chai into a canter as Adam paced forward.
* * *

 

“It is beautiful…” Lilyah’s eyes gazed over the scenery of Lake Tahoe, the shimmering reflections on its sky-blue surface, the forest-covered hills in the background. “Beautiful… so peaceful… and cozy…”

“Cozy?” Adam raised an eyebrow. He had heard many adjectives to describe the lake, but ‘cozy’ had not been among them.

“Yes..” She returned his look. “I mean, when you compare it to the sea – the coast of the Atlantic Ocean at Agadir. The sea is wide, like the desert, and it seems endless. When you look at it, you can understand that centuries ago people thought the world would end there. It has its own scent that you can sense from miles away, and it can be terrifyingly wild in a storm. And even when it is quiet, you can still feel the power of its tides, of its waves, of its sheer mass…”

“And the lake is bounded,” Adam took up her thought, “surrounded by land. There are no major storms, and it is filled with freshwater, nurturing the land. It’s a part of the land, it doesn’t end it… right?”

“Yes.” For one moment their eyes locked, until she turned to the lake again. “Oh, Adam, let’s get down there!” She did not even wait for his answer, but gave Chai a nudge and the black horse jumped down the steep slope to the lake’s shore.

“Lilyah, take care! That’s a dangerous descent!” Adam saw in the same moment he had called out that he would not have needed to worry – the stallion had a sure footing and she sat in the saddle gracefully, easily balancing out the slide down the slope. With a mixture of amusement and admiration he followed her, admitting to himself that his own horse was by far less willing to skid down the rocky bank.

“Hey, wait! What are you doing?” He laughed when the black stallion cantered straight into the lake until the water reached close to his belly and the seams of Lilyah’s wide robes almost trailed in the floods. “Going for a swim?”

“No.” She bowed down and dipped her hand into the water, licking one of her fingers as she sat up again, her eyes scanning the lake’s surface in fascination. “I can’t believe it is all sweet water – the whole lake!”

“It’s actually just half the lake.” Adam stayed close to the shore. “Do you see the thin line in the middle of it? That’s where the salt water starts.”

She inadvertently looked into the pointed direction when she heard him chuckle. Rapidly turning Chai and urging him back to the shore, she bowed sideways again and splashed a good amount of water onto Adam, in addition to the spray stirred up by Chai’s jumps.

He had to accept a wet shower and was too slow for an appropriate reaction when Chai rushed past him before he could even look. Again he admired her riding skills when that last bow from the stallion’s back had almost brought her head at the height of the horse’s upper legs – during a canter – and she had regained her balance just as easily. And now she giggled like a little girl because she had managed to splash some water on him.

“Cat!” Adam laughed and maneuvered the chestnut closer to her. For one moment he felt tempted to pull her off her horse and just kiss her, but he felt that this might not be received all too graciously. As if she had read his thoughts, her giggling stopped and her eyes seemed to turn darker as she looked into his. Adam swallowed and half raised his hand to touch her face, but let it fall again. It was too early, much too early…

“Follow the shore for a while?” His voice sounded coarse in his ears and he cleared his throat.

“Yes, I would love to…” Her eyes still looked into his and her fingers played with a strand of Chai’s mane. His eyes… his beautiful hazel eyes… she hastily urged Chai to step backwards and Adam turned his chestnut and nudged him into a trot.

Side by side the two horses trotted along the lake, carefully avoiding the innumerable rocks and boulders littered across the sandy gravel.
* * *

 

“I think we’d better head for the ranch.” Adam looked up in the sky. He could not believe it but the sun was already lowering in the sky – they had spent all day riding along the shore. They had not turned until they had covered at least 15 miles and had just reached the point where they had started out in the late morning of the day. And yet he felt that the hours had passed like moments. By now Lilyah knew all about his upbringing and his college years in Boston. He on the other hand knew that she had no real prospects in Morocco after her father’s death, when a young woman alone could not run a horse farm in a country where women were not considered as equal to men. Her Uncle Ali had invited her to live with his family, but she had preferred to travel to America. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to returning to a kind but old-fashioned uncle and to spend her days with her obviously lovable but boring Aunt Fatima, and if it were for Adam, she wouldn’t have to.

“You must be hungry,” he added, watching her as she comfortably leaned on her horse’s crest. A day in the saddle did not seem to bother her the least bit.

“I actually am!” She looked over the lake. “We should have brought a fishing rod or something…”

His eyes lit up. “We’ll do it next time!” He urged his horse to the slope surrounding the shore of the lake. “Come on, let’s go!”

The black stallion was the first to cover the distance to the top, when he made two strides where the chestnut needed three.

“Hey, wait!” Adam laughed as he saw Lilyah riding forward. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the ranch…” She turned in the saddle. “I memorized the direction.”

“Did you?” He halted his horse at her side. “How so, if I may ask?”

“Oh, that was easy! I looked in the sky and remembered the cardinal directions. And then it really wasn’t a problem to…” Her voice broke off as she noted the rather amused smirk on his lips. “This is the direction to the ranch, is it? If we ride on in this direction…”

“… we end up in Placerville!” His thumb pointed backwards, into the opposite direction. “This is the way to the ranch!”

“Oh…” She cleared her throat and dignifiedly handled the reins, assuming a very straight seat. “These big trees are very confusing…”

“Sure…” Adam seriously nodded his head while the laughing sparks in his eyes exploded like little fireworks.
* * *

 

11. More Agreements 

The light of the day had not yet reached Adam’s bedroom window when he prepared for a shave; he even had to light the lamp to see his reflection in the mirror. Softly whistling a little tune, he soaped his chin and grinned at himself while admitting that he felt like a little boy who could not wait to run out for play. The past few days had been like a charm. Getting up at the first sign of dawn to have a wonderful early morning ride with Lilyah, one that would usually last all day – a day filled with laughter, joy, poetry, and long conversations every word of which he cherished. It did not bother him at all that his father’s glances became darker and darker every time they met, that Joe started complaining about having to do his oldest brother’s chores, and that Hoss grinned like a cheese cake whenever he passed by. Adam lived like in a dream.

A dream…

His smile faded away. Lilyah did not open up to him. She seemed to enjoy his presence, seemed to anticipate their times together just as eagerly as he did, but she evaded his every attempt of getting closer to her. He had addressed the subject of love twice and she had used her stallion’s superior speed to simply run away. Adam twisted his mouth as he carefully scratched off the beard stubbles. Maybe he should consider a trip to Kentucky or at least San Francisco to look out for the fastest race horse he could possibly find.

“Ouch…” Figuring that it wasn’t the best idea to chuckle while shaving, Adam heaved a deep breath and tried to get some order into his scattering thoughts. Still, he was so sure of her feelings for him – he just knew that she harbored them deep inside her heart – but on what ground did he base his knowledge? How could he be so sure that this was not merely his own wishful thinking? He could only be sure about his own feelings, anything else was mere conjecture. And since when did he build his plans on conjecture?

His plans?

His hand with the razor blade fell down. He did not have any plans, all he had was the deep desire to enjoy this steadily growing feeling, the warm trust he never knew before, the pleasure of her nearness, the anticipation of what would come to exist between them. He opened up a little more every moment he was with her, and he wanted to savor every bit of this. Just enjoy it, revel in it, getting carried away in the irresistably free flow of Lilyah’s overwhelming, almost childlike nature – not dissecting it with analyses, plans and brainy abstractions.

Why couldn’t he just wait, let her have her own time and pace, and see what would come out of it? She needed to have it her way, this he knew without any doubt, deep inside. In a sense, she reminded him of a wild bird that would fly away at the first loud noise. So why couldn’t he simply relax and wait and see?

He stared in the mirror without really looking at himself, not noticing that his brow furrowed when the one word entered his mind that he did not want to have there.

His jaw worked as he unsuccessfully tried to push that word back to where it came from. The fear of losing… He had twice lost the chance to love, first Regina and then Ruth, especially Ruth, when he was not prepared to fight for them when he had to. He had simply stood by and allowed them to slip off his hands, as if it would be his destiny to lose, as if it had to be this way for him. But not this time – he would not let it happen this time.

“Not this time…” He did not even notice that he had spoken aloud. He washed and dried his face and took great care to comb his hair strictly back. Putting the tails of his shirt into his pants, he headed for the door.

Not this time.
* * *

 

Adam’s mood lightened up significantly when he found Lilyah in a fruitless discussion with Hop Sing.

“But, Hop Sing, you don’t have to lay the table for us.” Lilyah seemed at the end of her wits. “We are perfectly fine with some bread and cheese…”

“Hop Sing cook in house! Hop Sing lesponsible for bleakfast! And little Missy must eat good bleakfast! Mistel Adam must eat good bleakfast too!” The cook literally slammed the plates on the table, making as much noise as possible while snarling on. “Still dark outside! Not cocklel clow yet! Middle of night! Hop Sing no sleep! Hop Sing quit!”

Adam couldn’t resist to flash a rascally grin as he casually strolled along. “Hop Sing, is the coffee ready? It’s about time.”

The cook flew around, his face a fist, one forefinger aggressively waving at Adam. “Coffee laddy when time is laddy! Coffee laddy when stove is hot! Stove not hot in middle of night!” Throwing up both his arms, the stocky man stomped back into his kitchen, his litany emerging to a rambled lament in Chinese.

“You’re mean!” A small smile played around Lilyah’s lips as she looked up to Adam. “You’ve teased him on purpose.”

“Guilty as charged!” He winked at her and admired the jewelry in her hair. She never wore her head veil as most women would do, but basically had nothing but a piece of lace and silk draped around and dangling from what appeared to be a kind of diadem. He had yet to find out the purpose of that piece of finery, when it neither hid nor covered anything, but then its sole purpose probably was to hold her long hair while riding. It certainly looked much prettier than the exorbitant eyesores other women wore on their heads.

“You’ve nicked yourself…” Lilyah’s finger softly touched the almost imperceptible spot on his chin.

“Happens once in a while…” He raised his hand to touch her fingers.

Lilyah withdrew her hand and stepped back as Hop Sing noisily trampled into the room, tossing a plate of bread and a bowl of jelly on the table, still grumbling under his breath. First they robbed him from his well-deserved sleep and now they were standing in his way.

“Don’t forget the coffee, Hop Sing!” Adam called after him, inciting a remarkable increase of volume in the cook’s bickering.

“Adam!” Lilyah couldn’t help a smile. It was one of those moments in which the big boy in Adam lurked from behind, another occurrence when his seemingly natural seriousness proved to be a well studied facade. Her smile intensified when she saw the sparkle in his hazel eyes. It had been his eyes who had given him away from the very beginning, alluding so vividly that there was much more beneath his restrained surface than what he chose to show.

“He’ll wake up the whole house.” Adam came a step closer. Judging from the noise coming out of the kitchen Hop Sing was throwing his pots and pans around.

“You didn’t exactly help it.” Lilyah retreated to the window and looked outside. It provided a view of the pasture on which she knew Chai roamed about, but she could not see her horse. Maybe the stallion was somewhere behind those trees.

“No.” A wry smile played in the corner of his mouth as he stepped next to her.

Lilyah held her breath as he stood so close to her, for one moment she allowed herself to savor the warmth of his nearness, to wonder about the silent wish to lean against him. His presence was so intense that it seemed to halt the flow of time. She stiffened as his hand softly touched her cheek.

“I’m sorry…” His voice was very dark and tender. “But there is something I have to know.”

And he kissed her again.

For one moment Lilyah let it happen, more unable to move than actually unwilling, then she violently struggled to get free. This time, however, Adam did not let her go. He did not have much of a problem holding her small wrists with one hand, keeping her body from jerking away and closing her mouth with his. She felt her eyes tearing, but her resistance broke down soon. When he finally loosened his grip on her wrists, she only closed her arms around him and responded to his kiss.

For one precious moment, they both forgot the world around them.

Adam knew what was up when she suddenly opened her eyes, the dark velvet lights instantly turning almost black, staring at him in utter shock. A trace of panic mixed in the shock and he almost felt sorry for what he had done. Almost… deep inside, his heart was singing when he was now sure about what he knew.

Lilyah rapidly pulled back, gasping. “You… you… you…” She did not get the words out, trembling with the turmoil inside her.

He knew it was the worst possible thing he could do, but he could not help his face breaking into a wide smile. He still tasted her lips, still felt her response to his kiss, her hands on his neck, her small soft body so willingly pressing against his, and it made his soul laugh with joy. Without him really wanting it, this laugh reflected on his face.

“You…” She gasped for air and exploded, grabbing the next best missile to throw at him. It was a small vase and she missed him, frantically looking around for something else to throw.

“Oh, here.” He readily handed her a cup.

“Thanks…” She took it from his hand and raised her arm to throw it at him when she froze in the movement, the sheer absurdity of the situation dawning in on her. She looked so dumbfounded that Adam’s amusement threatened to get the better of him.

“You… brute!!” She smashed the cup at his feet, her eyes spitting fire. “You!!!”

“I’d call that a miss.” He handed her a plate. “Try again!”

She furiously knocked the plate from his hand, hissing at him like a wild cat. It really looked as if she was about to suffer a heart attack. And he was laughing! Laughing! At her!

“Lilyah, I’m sorry.” He tried what he could to wipe the laugh from his features, but he did not really succeed. “Lilyah, I’m just so happy, I could cry… can’t you see?”

She hastily moved backwards as he came closer, stumbled over the chair standing next to the wall and grabbed for a hold of the table cloth, unintentionally dragging it half off the table. Two sets of dishes crashed down and Lilyah gasped as she regained her balance. But then her eyes glinted as they fell on the jelly bowl that had come to a halt just at the table’s edge. She grabbed for it with both hands.

Adam could not help but chuckle. “Hey, Lil, take care… don’t hurt yourself…”

The jelly bowl crashed into his face. In a reflex, Adam jumped backwards, bumping into Hop Sing who dropped the coffee pot and promptly started yelling again.

Lilyah turned around to flee from the scene and ran straight into Ben Cartwright.

“WHAT in tarnation…” Ben’s voice thundered through the house, overpowered only by Hoss’s call, “Joe! Joe, come quick!”

Lilyah gathered together as much of her composure as she could; blind with tears, she still threw up her head haughtily, swirled her wide robes around her regally and exclaimed in a slightly trembling voice, but still in the most imperious tone, “I’m going for a ride!!”

With that, she stormed out of the house.

“Adam!” Ben approached his oldest son who was still wiping the jelly from his eyes. “ADAM!”

Hop Sing preferred to beat a hasty retreat into the kitchen.

Little Joe rushed down the staircase as fast as he could, ran through the room and almost tripped, grabbing at his brother Hoss to steady himself. “What happened? He kissed her?”

Hoss nodded his head, grinning with delight. Both brothers froze to statues as their father’s fierce look glowered over them, forcing their faces into masks. Their eyes pinned on their brother they sneaked around the table to have a better sight of the drama.

“Adam!” Ben forced himself to a subdued voice. “What – is – this…?” His hand pointing at the mess.

Adam cleared his throat and wiped some more jelly from his face.

“We… we had an argument… sort of…”

“Sort of…” Ben repeated, his eyes nailing his son on the spot.

Little Joe could not hold it any longer and cackled out like a hen that had just laid an egg, while Hoss produced sounds reminding of a colicking horse in his attempt not to roar out loud. His head had taken on the color of a ripe tomato and his blue eyes were tearing.

“Joseph!” Ben’s eyes spat fire and Little Joe nearly suffocated fighting back his laughing fits.

“I’m wondering about you, son.” Ben directed his attention on Adam again. “We see nothing of you here on the Ponderosa, you leave your chores to your brothers, and when you’re here, you’re wrecking the house!”

Adam drew a breath. “Pa, if you don’t mind, I would like to clean myself up a little.”

For a moment Ben looked as if he was going to explode, but then he nodded. Adam had jelly spread all over him; it was understandable that he wanted to change.

“You do that. But, Adam,” he raised his voice to a threatening loudness, “if you ever attempt to kiss that woman again, do it outside!”

It was too much for Hoss and Little Joe who burst out in such a laughing fit that they did not even see their father anymore. “Outside…” Joe squeaked and cackled, and on top of it all started singing in a shrill and shrieking voice. “Early one mo-horning we heard the dishes cra-hashing…”

“Whooohooo…” Hoss collapsed over the table, howling with laughter.

Adam stopped on his way to the kitchen and slowly turned around, watching his kid brother from narrowed eyes.

Little Joe had the greatest time, conducting an imaginary orchestra and squawking on, “… we saw our brother Adam with the jelly on his face..”

“Stop it, Joe, stop it!” Laughing tears, Hoss hammered his fist on the table such that what little was still standing on it started bouncing. “I can’t take it no more…”

Adam picked up the jelly bowl and saw that there still was enough of the sticky stuff left in it. And before Joe knew it, he had it on his head, bottom up.

“Adam!” Ben did not trust his eyes. What on earth had ever happened to his oldest son? His most reasonable, rational, controlled oldest son?

“Sorry, Pa.” Adam pursed his lips. “It miraculously slipped out of my hand.”

And with a wry smile he left.
* * *

 

“Adam, I’m…” Lilyah stopped. Had she not been there before? She had apologized, and he had promised to not do it again. And then he had done it again, anyway. Pouting, she pressed her lips together.

“No…” A little smile played around Adam’s lips as he saw her standing in the barn’s doorway, almost in the same spot where she had stood when they had their first conversation in the barn. Only this time she wasn’t alone, Chai was standing at her side. Unsaddled and unbridled, he used to follow her like a faithful shadow.

“I am sorry!” he continued. “And I have to apologize! I shouldn’t have done what I did, and I’m sorry that I put you into so much distress!” His smile intensified. “And I fully deserved whatever you’ve thrown at me.”

“I have not hurt you?”

“No.”

She slowly came closer while Chai examined a load of hay.

“Can we still be friends?”

Her question caught him by surprise. Her dark eyes looked at him almost anxiously.

“Of course…”

“Adam…” She stood very close to him, her hand hesitatingly touching his arm. “Adam, don’t do it again… please don’t do it again…”

“I won’t.” He carefully put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to him. “I will never do anything against your will again.” He offered her his hand. “Handshake?”

She looked at his hand, puzzled.

Adam smiled. “A handshake settles an agreement.” A little spark appeared in his eyes. “It’s as good an arrangement as a horse race!”

A first little smile appeared in her eyes and her hand glided into his. For a moment he allowed himself to caress it gently with his thumb, his heart making a jump when her second hand slid on his, softly touching it. The heartwarming moment did not last too long, as she withdrew her hands and took a step back. Adam did not mind. As long as he could be sure that she indeed had feelings for him, it did not matter how long he would have to wait. As long as he could be sure, there would be nothing that he could not fight.

“It seems I have to ride fence today,” he started. “That basically means nothing but riding along the fences to see if they’re alright. What do you think of saddling Chai and coming along?”

Her eyes lit up. “I’d love to!”

“Alright…” His eyes followed her as she called Chai and went for her saddle and bridle. As long as he could be sure of her, there was no fear.
* * *

 

12. The Promise 

“Hey, Pa!” Little Joe halted his paint horse and pointed in the direction of the mountains. “Isn’t that Adam?”

“Where?” Ben Cartwright looked, but first could not see anything. It took him a while until he realized that there were two tiny spots moving on the slopes of a very distant mountain. Squinting, he tried to focus his eyes on them. “You have certainly better eyes than I have, Joe.”

“It’s Adam alright.” Joe shook his head. “Has he lost his mind?”

Ben did not reply as his eyes had finally focused on the two distant riders. Adam’s dark clad figure on the red chestnut was as unmistakable as were the lady’s wide gowns on the black Arabian. Taking a deep breath he admitted to himself that Joe’s question was justified. Those two riders were not merely having a ride on a mountain’s slope – they were painstakingly climbing up a very rocky and dangerous hillside. Ben knew this mountain; no sane person would ever clamber up there, least of all on horseback. Dragging a young lady along on such a hazardous ascent was downright irresponsible and was not anything like his normally so reasonable and responsible oldest son. What was he thinking?

“Caught him up there before,” Joe remarked.

“When?”

“Couple of years…” The youngest Cartwright creased his forehead. “He wasn’t very fond of me following him, and I gave up because…” He stopped and pulled an uncomfortable face.

Ben nodded in understanding. Joe had a problem with his fear of heights, and a risky ride across the steep slopes and abysmal gorges of that particular area would have been hard on him. Especially when is was utterly useless to climb up there at all. There was nothing on those mountains but rocks.

“Did he say what he was doing there?” Ben knew the answer even before Joe shook his head.

“No, he didn’t. Guess it was one of his excursions into ‘nature’ once again…”

“Yes…” Ben pressed his lips together.

Adam and his unfortunate, inexplicable excursions… He had always had a propensity to seek out the oddest places; a propensity that had proved dangerous more than once before. Ben still remembered when his eldest had an accident in the Sierras shortly after he had come back from college, losing his horse and almost his life because he wanted to be ‘alone’. Had it not been for an old Indian who had rescued him, they never would have known what had happened to him. Even worse had been an incident only a few years ago when he got lost in the desert. They had been looking for him in growing despair for two weeks before they had found him, half starved and delirious, dragging a dead man behind him. They had never found out what exactly had happened when Adam refused to talk about it – but whatever it was, it would not have happened had he not strayed out into the desert to be ‘alone’. Ben frowned. If Joe had not by chance spotted them on that mountain over there and any accident happened in that remote spot, they would not have stood a chance in life to find him there. At least now they had a clue…

“Not quite a place to take a lady,” Joe quipped, “but at least it explains why they never take the buggy.” A look in his father’s face told him that his joke was not considered funny.

Ben resisted the useless wish to call out for his eldest when the two distant riders disappeared between the rocks. It was too far for even the slightest chance to be heard, a gunshot might have gone unnoticed. And what sense would it have made anyway?

With a rather moody grunt Ben nudged his horse into a light gait. He had hoped Adam had long since outgrown these peculiar habits but, it didn’t seem like he had. On top of it, Adam did not even seem to mind that it wasn’t exactly the best decorum to go on lonesome rides with a woman day after day from sunup to sundown, just to spend what little was left from a late evening to play guitar on the porch, or even worse, in her bedroom. The rest of the family hardly ever saw their Arab guest since Adam seemed to regard her as his private property. It did not seem to bother him that she had the habit of throwing dishes after him, as little as it seemed to bother her that her behaviour was anything but ladylike.

Ben sighed. He could not for the life of him understand how Adam actually seemed to be so enchanted by this outlandish woman whose own mother had thought her to be a crackpot – it had been clearly visible in between Valerie’s resigned lines about her daughter. “I love my child, my only child…” Valerie had written, “But the older she gets, the more she becomes like her father. Like him, she is the essence of this country, the land I will never get used to, so strange and so wild…”

Ben sincerely hoped that his son would eventually regain his good senses and give up on this woman which could be nothing but a passing fancy, anyway. Maybe it was just his unfortunate fascination with queer and strange figures, most of which had not done him any good.
* * *

 

“Come on, the last one for a while.” Adam reined in his horse as he turned to Lilyah. “Don’t ride next to me – wait ’til I’m up and then follow in my tracks!”

“Alright.” Lilyah watched as he forced his chestnut up the rough slope. The gelding did not seem all too fond about the climb and Lilyah saw his ears unwillingly pin back as he lost his footing in the loose gravel and slipped down a few yards. A lesser rider would have lost it, but Adam was adamant, forcing the horse to catch itself and climb up again, not giving in an inch. He was not reckless, the ground was safe enough to ride, albeit a little tough to conquer. A mixture of admiration and regret rose in her. He was such a strong man, enforcing his will and getting it. She just wished he would have another horse – one that was more worthy of such a good and powerful man. A wishful look appeared in her eyes when for one short moment her mind wandered back to the great Arabian horse fair in Marrakech, where the best horses of the country were presented, and…

“Hey! Are you dreaming?” Adam called from above.

“No!” Laughing, she nudged Chai into motion. The black stallion also slipped, at exactly the same spot, but he pricked his ears forward and furiously fought his way up the steep hill.

Adam smiled as he watched. She sure could ride, and she had courage. Besides, she gave a wonderful picture, wearing the dark brown and golden robe again which he loved most. As the stallion made his last jumps onto the upper level, she rose in the stirrups to give him more freedom of movement and balance her weight over his shoulders.

“We have to ride one after another for a while,” Adam said as she arrived at his side. His hand pointed to a small pass way alongside a rocky wall. “The path is too small for two horses to go side by side.”

She nodded in affirmation. “You go ahead.”

“You bet.” The flicker of a smile appeared in his eyes. “It’s only a short piece. You stay clear from me, don’t get too close. You never know what might happen if a horse spooks.”

“I know.” She sorted her various drapings. “This reminds me of crossing the Atlas mountains with my father. There also were such small paths.” She laughed. “And he always insisted on taking the lead, even though I could have found the way as easily!”

“Sure…” An amused spark danced in his eyes. If there was one thing he had found out in the past few days, then it was that Lilyah certainly was the worst scout one could imagine. She probably would get lost when riding around the barn, all the while insisting that she had ‘memorized the cardinal directions’. With a soft smirk on his face he rode forward.

Entering into the small pass way was like getting on a frying pan, when the sun was blaring at the rocks and no wind moved under the giant overhang. The weather was unusually hot for the season and even though it was still early in the day, the heat was already stinging. For a moment he worried about Lilyah, but then he told himself that she came from a desert country and was certainly used to more heat than this. She had not complained even once during the rough ascent up the mountain, rather enjoyed the chance to show off her stallion’s remarkable talents and otherwise treated it as if it was just another one of their rides.

Just another ride?

Adam felt a warm feeling as he listened to the sound of Chai’s hooves behind him. How often had he ridden this way in the past ten years? Fifty times? More than that? And he had always come up here alone, to his secret recreation spot on the top of this mountain, to his retreat from the world. It was the first time that he shared this ride, that he intended to show this place to someone else. Would she feel about it like he did? Understand what he felt?

The narrow path mounted into a wide rock-covered slope and he halted the chestnut to wait for her. He saw the fascination in her dark eyes as she looked around, glancing over the rugged rocky walls and the wide landscape beneath them.

“Adam, this is magic!” She looked up the slope. “Do we go up there?”

“Yes.” His heart made a jump when he saw the anticipation on her face. She wanted to go up there, just like he was drawn to the top of the height the first time he had been here.

“You like being in the mountains?”

“Yes, I do.” A little smile lightened her face. “It is mesmerizing… and a little humbling.”

“In what way humbling?”

“They are so majestic…” she paused, searching for words. “You can’t just storm ahead as if the world is yours. You’re forced to do little steps, and you realize the world is so much bigger than you thought. It reminds you of how big Allah really is.”

“And how shallow is the human strife, how vain and futile, in the face of eternity…” he continued.

Lilyah furrowed her brows. Something in his words did not sit well with her, something in the tone he had spoken them. His look was almost forlorn.

“Adam, we are not that unimportant!”

“No.” The smile returned on his features. What a sweet child she was… “Come on, we still have a good hour’s ride ahead.” He turned his horse and took the lead.

Lilyah nudged Chai into a light trot and followed Adam as he made his way to the top of the slope. He did not take the straight way, but led the path in a wide arc, making the ascent far easier for the horses than it had initially looked. He certainly knew this mountain and she felt once more reminded of similar rides with her father. She felt the same faithful trust, the same warm feeling of safety, of being guarded and protected, as she followed the rider in front of her.
* * *

 

They had to cover a few more critical climbs until they finally reached a small high plateau, an almost unreal spot that looked as if some ancient giant had scattered a couple of large boulders on top of it. Even though it was all rocks and gravel, a few meager brownish shrubs had clawed themselves into the barren ground, too lacking to flourish but too stubborn to die. The sun was now high in the sky and burning down on the earth, yet the heat was hardly a burden, thanks to a steady wind blowing over the plateau.

“It’s called the Indian Needle.” Adam rode until only a few yards from the vast abyss beneath them, his silhouette darkly drawn against the pale blue sky. “Nobody knows exactly why. I heard an old story years ago that there once was a distinctively high and thin rock on top that looked like a needle from below, but I’ve never found a trace of it.”

Lilyah remained silent as she halted Chai at Adam’s side. The view on the wide landscape was breathtaking, but the tone in his voice bewildered her. His words were merely an explanation of the site, but the manner in which he delivered them indicated that there was more to it than the words expressed. Distracted from the stunning view, she gave him a look out of the corner of her eye. She had noticed before that he had become more and more quiet the closer they had come to the top; lost in thought and strangely restless, as if he had been waiting for something.

“Look…” His hand covered the wide panorama in front of them. “No… not at the land!” Reaching over to her, he softly put a finger under her chin and lifted her head. “Look in the sky!”

She complied and let out a surprised gasp, instinctively clutching Chai’s mane. She did not even notice that Adam had cautiously taken hold of her reins. For a moment she felt dizzy when the vast sky seemed to be so overwhelmingly close, as if the whole world was suddenly nothing but sky.

“It’s like the world would not exist anymore, isn’t it?” he asked, his own eyes getting lost in the endless firmament. “That’s why I come here… to breathe, to recreate. When I look in that sky, I feel like I am flying. Like I could just fly away…”

She looked up to him. “Where to, Adam? Where would you fly to?”

For a moment he seemed puzzled, as if the question had never occurred to him before. “There is no ‘where’. It’s just flying. Like running over that cliff and be free… allegorically spoken, of course.”

Lilyah did not know what to say, feeling deeply disquieted. There was a melancholy in his voice that touched her heart, a side of him that up to now she had not noticed… or maybe just ignored. Even the last few words, carrying an air of his usual ironic humour, could not lighten up the dejection looming within.

There was nothing but sky, and he would glide through those skies, high above the earth, almost touching the clouds, relishing the beauty all around him, relishing a freedom he had never known. And he was happy when he dreamt.

Slowly, hesitatingly, she raised her hand.

Adam startled when he felt the light touch on his cheek, looking at Lilyah in disbelief. Her fingers softly caressed his face, her thumb stroke tenderly over his lips. Her eyes seemed to be even larger as they usually were, with a slight shade of surprise lingering in the dark velvet brown, as if she herself couldn’t believe what she was doing. He took a short breath and did not even dare to move when she slowly leaned over to him, her lips softly touching his cheek.

For a moment he closed his eyes, before he raised his own hand and gently touched her hair, his lips touching her cheek just as lightly, gingerly wandering over her nose. It took long and intense moments until their lips finally touched the edges of each other’s mouths, and still then the kisses stayed light and soft, almost shy. Adam waited, patiently, meeting her dark eyes and holding his breath. Her hand slowly moved down to his neck and her lips finally met his.

The kiss was very soft and tender, merely the mutual caressing of each other’s lips, before it gradually gained in passion. Lilyah drew a trembling breath when she first felt the gentle pressure to open her mouth, but then she closed her eyes and responded passionately to his kisses.

It was a slight movement of the horses that interrupted the intense moments. Adam saw Lilyah’s eyes opening and gazing at him as in a sudden shock, the dark brown velvet turning black.

“Don’t…” His hand rose, touching her lips with one finger. “Don’t think…” His voice was very low and yet conjuring, as his finger caressed her face. “No thoughts… no consequences, no decisions. Just give it time, and let it grow – and see what comes out of it…”

She just looked at him, her eyes still so large in her amazement, but her hand still resting on his neck, her fingers so soothing against his skin.

“And, Lilyah…” he softly continued. “I will never force you into anything. You will always be free!”

Her hand moved to his cheek, gently caressing it, lightly petting the edge of his sideburns, as her eyes sank into his as if to seek a look at his soul. She felt the yearning inside of him and it touched her deeply. She never would have thought that he was lonely. And still… had not his music spoken a clear language, his poems, the often wistful look in his eyes? Her fingers touched the edge of his brow. His beautiful angel eyes…

He caught her caressing fingers and kissed them. “We have all the time in the world…” he murmured. “And no one to answer to but ourselves. Just give it time to grow…”

She silently nodded her head and responded to another long lasting kiss.
* * *

 

 

13. Kitchen Idyll 

This was the one word echoing in Adam’s mind when he awoke from a peaceful sleep, rolling on his back and looking up to the ceiling. He did not see the white plaster, a bit in need of a fresh whitewash, nor the thick wooden beams parting the ceiling in shadowed segments. What he saw was a beautiful small figure, a flood of long wavy hair, and a pair of large dark eyes looking up to him with so much trust. Trust… finally, at long last, she trusted him.

Adam smiled, stretched his body and spread out his arms. For one flight of a moment he allowed himself to wonder how it would be like, one day, to not wake up alone. He hastily brushed the thought away. Steady, old boy, don’t rush it… his smile intensified. No, she should have all the time she needed, he would not pressure her at all. There was no need to hasten anything. Closing his eyes, he could still feel the tender little kiss they had exchanged after bidding each other good-night, in the silent hallway between their rooms, out of everybody’s sight. The little flower that had begun to grow still needed the cover of its solitude to gain strength and surety, no curious look or loud word should disturb it. One day it would have grown so big that it would reach the sky, for all the world to see. Happiness!

He took a deep breath, trying to grasp this feeling that had been such a rare guest in his heart. Its first little signs had been enchanting, but the fully blossomed emotion was overwhelming. Adam laughed, not even knowing exactly at what. There was no particular reason, other than that he was just a very happy man. With a sound like a cat that had slept too long, he jumped out of bed.
* * *

 

“Good morning…” Lilyah’s eyes lit up when she found Adam in the kitchen, busy feeding the stove. “Don’t you make so much noise.”

“You don’t need to whisper.” Adam chuckled as he shut the door of the fire chamber. “Hop Sing spent the night in Virginia City.”

“How do you know?” Lilyah could not remember having seen the cook since the last morning. In fact, they had seen nobody when they had returned from their ride late last night.

He pointed to a couple of dirty dishes. “He’d never leave the kitchen like this. Besides, it’s time for one of his days off.”

“I see…” She held her breath as he softly kissed her temple, her hand touched his cheek. For one moment their eyes locked, in mutual, silent understanding. Lilyah returned his smile when she saw the light in the hazel rays. She had felt so unsure when she got up and dressed, not knowing what the day would hold, not knowing if it had been right what had been happening the last day, pondering about the strangeness of their agreement. But now she felt secure. She would let it grow, see what would come out of it.

“Ah, let’s get some breakfast!” Adam turned almost abruptly. He felt the strong desire to kiss her – not so soft and light, but as wild and passionate as it could get. At the same time he felt the childish wish to just swing her around and throw her in the air. Easy, old boy…

“Bread and cheese…?” Lilyah filled the coffee grounds into the pot.

“Come on! We had nothing but bread and cheese the past few days. Let’s fix some eggs! Besides, I’m kinda curious to see how you cook.”

Lilyah awkwardly turned away and avoided his eyes. “I like cheese for breakfast…”

Adam startled, a light suspicion rising inside of him as he recollected what he knew about her upbringing. “You surely can cook, can’t you?”

“But of course.” She assumed a dignified posture, her eyes wandering over the pans and pots hanging on the walls, the many cans, boxes and bottles in the shelves, all the various kitchen utensils dangling from their hooks. It could not possibly be very complicated, after all…

Adam opened his mouth and closed it, a legion of twinkling sparks popping up in his eyes. Pursing his lips and chewing down a chuckle, he took a big pan from the wall and put it on the slowly heating stove.

“Well…” He placed Hop Sing’s small egg basket on the counter next to the stove. “I think we can save the trip to the hen house – six eggs should do for us.” Stepping back, he crossed his arms and flashed her a smile.

Lilyah sensed the amusement in his voice and one look in his eyes told her that he was just waiting for her to fail or admit defeat. Collecting herself, she proudly propped up her chin. She would show him!

Adam watched with growing disbelief as she resolutely grabbed a big kitchen knife, picked up one of the raw eggs and attempted to cut it open. Of course she broke it, hastily holding it over the pan to save at least half of its contents. Aware of his look, she straightened herself. “I’m a bit out of practise.”

“Sure…” He fought down the impulse to laugh.

Lilyah brushed her long hair back over her shoulder and picked up a second egg. This time she attempted to cut it open right over the pan, breaking it again and having egg plus eggshells landing in the pan.

Clearing his throat, Adam stepped forward and picked up an egg himself. “Here in America,” he said in a scholarly voice, “we do it this way.” He knocked the egg against the pan’s edge and filled its contents into the pan.

“There are different traditions, for sure.” Lilyah tried to copy his method but hit the egg too hard and broke it again, egg white, yolk and shells equally distributed between her hand, the pan and the stove. Adam choked down the laughter but could not avoid a gurgling sound. Lilyah’s brow furrowed as she cleaned her soiled hand and proceeded to practise the trick on the last two eggs, more or less succeeding and finally trying to pick the pieces of eggshell out of the pan.

Adam watched fastidiously, his hands clasped behind his back. “Shouldn’t there be some oil in the pan?”

She stumped just for the split of a second. “I was just about to get some, Adam.”

“Oh!” He saw her searching eyes wandering over the shelves and handed her the oil bottle. “Here!”

“Thanks.” A big splash of oil landed on top of the eggs.

“I would stir it a bit…” Adam made a swirling movement with his hand.

“I know this, Adam!” In the meanwhile, the stove had gained sufficient heat to bake or rather burn the contents of the pan and her stirring did not really prevent it. Quite helpless, she poured the rest of the oil in the pan. At least it stopped the burning.

Adam felt a cramp in his cheeks. “And when does the bacon come in?” he asked innocently.

“We don’t eat bacon… it’s pork!”

“Oh, of course…” He made a very attentive face. “Then this is going to be a pancake?”

“Yes, it’s going to be a pancake!” If only he would stop peeping over her shoulder!

His face was a frozen mask. “Then you should put some flour into the dough…”

“I was just about to do this, Adam!” Her eyes started searching again.

“Oh, here…” He readily handed her the flour and looked on as she dropped a copious amount of it into the pan. Apparently she wasn’t aware that flour had the habit to dust and she was a bit taken aback by the cloud welling up.

“You need some milk.” Adam handed her the milk can. “You can’t make pancakes without milk!”

“I know this!” She took the can from his hand and poured a good amount of milk into the pan.

“Stirring! Don’t forget the stirring…”

“I know this!!” She flew around, her eyes glowering at him. “Adam, you don’t need to tell me everything! I know exactly what I’m doing!”

Adam seriously nodded his head while holding his breath. His whole face was aching from the attempt not to move a muscle, and he was greatly relieved when she turned to the stove again, helplessly stirring the strange mess in the pan. Meanwhile, the stove had gotten very hot, producing bubbles in the pan, burning the clumps and what had been spilled aside with a rather unpleasant odor. Grimacing, Adam fought for his composure.

“You need some water.” He readily got her some water from the pump, smirking as she took it without further comment to pour it into the pan.

“And some sugar! We want sweet pancakes, don’t we?” He almost lost his self-control when a bubble exploded in the pan and Lilyah jumped backwards like a spooked horse. Nevertheless she accepted the sugar and hopefully filled it on top of the bubbling and smoking disaster. Her dignified attitude had abandoned her as she gaped into the pan with increasing doubts.

“It looks a bit… odd…” She twisted her mouth and waved her small hand to brush away the thick clouds of smoke surrounding them. “Maybe, if I let it cool down a little…” She dragged the pan to the side of the stove, realizing with some relief that at least the bubbling stopped.

“That’s normal during this phase.” Adam handed her the salt. The urge to laugh threatened to overcome him, but he boldly fought it down. “It needs some salt for the chemical reaction to set in, and of course you need to go on stirring!”

She threw him a skeptical look and he hid behind a cough, trying his best to keep a straight face. His chest was aching from the cramping inside; and when she actually poured half the contents of the salt pot into the pan he almost broke down. Fighting not to make any suspicious noises his eyes started tearing and his jaw began to really hurt.

“Here, put that in!” He handed her another bottle. And another one. “And this!” Handing her a small box. “And you need some of this! Keep on stirring!”

Lilyah accepted whatever he handed her, but the monstrosity in the pan got worse and worse. The last ingredient made her startle. It looked flaky… and green… Suspiciously, she wetted her finger to pick up a bit of the strange substance, tasting it. Her eyes grew wide. “This is… soap…” She slowly turned around to him, staring at him in disbelief.

Adam exploded. He burst out laughing so hard that he almost doubled over, stumbling backwards against a cupboard, laughing and laughing with the tears rolling down his cheeks. He barely could see her in the thick smoke and guessed more than he saw that now she had a closer look at some of the bottles she so readily had accepted.

“Liniment!” she gasped. “Ooooh!”

Adam felt his knees buckling, holding his hurting sides as he laughed like he had never laughed before. The liniment bottle crashed next to his head into the cupboard, some other missile followed.

“Oh, Lil, I’m sorry…” He couldn’t stop laughing and beat a staggering retreat into the dining room to get out of the line of fire.

“Adam!” Someone grabbed him and Adam took a moment to realize that it was his father, wearing slippers and his bordeaux colored house coat.

“FIRE!” Ben cried out at the top of his lungs. “Hoss, Joe! The kitchen is on fire! Son, what happened?”

“Pa, no…” Adam gasped as a new laughing fit shook him. “No…” He couldn’t stop laughing, steadying himself at his father’s shoulder.

“Adam!” This was Lilyah, hissing like a wild cat as she stormed out of the kitchen.

Adam turned around and his eyes widened as he saw her carrying the pan and taking a swing at him. Still laughing, he ducked and flanked out of the danger zone.

Ben Cartwright wasn’t so lucky. He got the contents of the pan straight against his face and chest and stumbled backwards against the dinner table.

Lilyah froze in shock and dropped the pan, the color draining from her cheeks. Her eyes wide in terror as she stared at the silver-haired man, she swallowed hard and clasped her hands over her mouth, unable to move or to speak.

Adam slowly got up and looked from one to another. For the moment his laughing stopped until he realized that his father wasn’t hurt and the contents of the pan had apparently cooled down enough not to cause any harm. His eyes started glittering. “Oh yeah…” he said, very slowly. “You know exactly what you’re doing…”

Lilyah looked at him and while her hands dropped, her face turned into a fist. “You… oooh!”

Adam turned around and fled – not so much for fear of her temper, but more because he felt his uncontrollable laughing fits starting again. And one thing was for sure, laughing into his father’s face right now was anything but a good idea.

Lilyah furiously picked up the pan and took after him, passing Hoss and Joe who just came across the great room, their mouths hanging open and their eyes flying back and forth between the hastily leaving couple and their disheveled father.

“What happened, Pa?” Hoss’s blue eyes were round as saucers. “Did he kiss her again?”

Little Joe was about to burst as he caught his father’s wild stare and froze into stone.

Ben heaved a deep grumbling breath and stormed into the kitchen to clean himself up.
* * *

 

Lilyah entered the barn in which she had seen Adam disappear, looking around for him, holding the pan in both hands.

“Tut, tut, tut…” Before she knew it, the pan was taken from her hands as Adam appeared behind her. “We’re not going to throw with pans, are we?” His voice was full of mischief.

“You! Monster!!” She flew around, both her hands pinching into his belly. “You fooled me! And you did that on purpose!”

Adam laughed and fended off her hands, but she was faster than he thought, fighting like a wild cat.

Suddenly, she stopped, one hand against his chest. “You’re ticklish…”

His eyebrows shot up. “No.”

Lilyah’s face broke into a wide smile. “Oh yes, you are!”

Adam tried to save his belly from her now well aimed attacks, retreating backwards so hastily that he stumbled across a box and fell into the hay, dragging her with him. They were both laughing, fighting like little children, for a couple of light-hearted, thoughtless moments completely forgetting about everything else. Yet in the moment that Adam managed to hold both her wrists and their lips met, they both woke up. Their eyes still locked, they moved apart.

“Sorry…” Adam took a deep breath, savoring the sight of her as she sat up, bashfully sorting her gown and refastening her hair jewelry. What would he give to kiss her right now…

“You are so mean!” she replied, but her eyes were smiling as she looked into his face. His features were so relaxed after all his laughing, the lines under his eyes were so much softer. He looked years younger, the big boy inside of him had a day out. It was such a good feeling to see him like this when remembering the wistful melancholy that so often overshadowed the light in his eyes.

“I was just so impressed by your cooking.”

She blushed. “I can cook coffee… and tea…” She bit her lower lip. “That’s all, I’m afraid…”

Adam laughed. “And I can fix some eggs and heat up some beans… we make a terrific couple, don’t we?”

She chuckled, but suddenly her face went bleak. “Oh, Allah…”

“What?”

She twisted her lips. “Your father… now he will dislike me even more.”

“Don’t think of it.” He got on his feet and offered her a hand to help her up.

“I will apologize.”

“No. Let me talk to him.”

“But…”

“I know him better than you do!” He softly touched her hair and chuckled as he removed some blades of hay. The embroidered brocade of her dress had also collected some hay and he merrily plucked it off. “You shouldn’t go back in the house like this.”

“Nor should you,” she replied, picking some hay from his clothes and then proceeding to carefully comb back his ruffled hair with her fingers.

Adam enjoyed the gentle care, his eyes shining. It was a strangely familiar feeling, although he could not even remember the last time someone had done this. It must have been Inger, since he wouldn’t have allowed Marie to touch him like this. Most of all he was glad that Lilyah did not seem to take his joshing ill when he certainly had been carried away by his rather unusual bout of flippancy. As easily as her temper could flare up, she did not harbor any hard feelings for long and could certainly take a joke, even on her own expense.

A boyish smile danced over his lips when she finished her combing and glanced over him with examining eyes. “Am I fine enough?”

“You are!” Her eyes seemed to caress him and he softly kissed her lips, so very light and chaste. She touched his nose with a tip of her finger. “Next time you’re fooling me like that, I won’t miss!”

The dimples in his cheeks grew deeper as he somberly looked her in the eye. “I will keep that in mind.”
* * *

 

“ADAM!” Ben Cartwright seemed to breathe fire as he stood in the doorway in front of the ranch house, hands in hips, every inch the personification of fury. His voice bellowed all over the place. “I want to talk to you! NOW!”

Adam heaved a breath and sighed, yet he got distracted when he noticed Lilyah’s reaction. Instead of showing fear or insecurity, she seemed to gather all her pride together, straightening herself and lifting her head, her dark eyes beginning to flame. It was Queen Cleopatra in the making – or rather a little cat attempting to make itself bigger in front of the huge, barking dog.

He couldn’t help an amused smirk. “Lilyah, go and get Chai ready. We’ll have quite a long ride to the meadows I want to show you today.”

“I can’t let you go in there alone!”

“Come on! He’s not going to eat me.”

“He’s furious…” She looked up to him, “And it was me throwing the pan at him, not you!”

“Don’t forget why you threw it in the first place.” As amusing as it was, he felt deeply touched by her apparent worry. “I can deal with him much better when I’m on my own. So go, take care of your horse and don’t get in my way!”

Lilyah still hesitated, searching in his face for a trace of something he might not show her. She could feel the growing tension inside of him and it did not sit well with her. He had been so happy and carefree all morning, she wanted him to stay like this. A steep line grew above her nose as she looked over to Ben Cartwright. He had every right to be angry at her, but did he have the right to yell at Adam like that, like he was calling an unruly servant?

“Go!” Adam gave her a gentle push in direction of the pasture where Chai was spending his time.

“Adam! I said NOW!” Ben seemed short of exploding.

“I see you later!” Adam nodded to her and she knew that he wanted her to be out of the way. She gave him a small rueful smile and took the path to the pasture.

Adam collected himself and walked up to the house.
* * *

 

14. Conspiracies 

Cold air… this was Adam’s first impression when he entered the big room. The most unsettling signal was the sight of his brothers, uncomfortably cowering on the settee. There was no trace of any mischief or gleeful anticipation of older brother getting a rebuke, sentiments that Adam had half expected. Instead, they looked like beaten dogs; Hoss sulking and Joe sneaking him a look in commiseration.

“You certainly took your time!” Ben’s voice sounded anything but friendly. His whole posture spoke of nothing good as he stood erect next to his big red armchair, squinting at his eldest son. He had dressed, only his moist hair spoke of the unfortunate encounter with the contents of the pan.

“I came as soon as you called.” Adam kept standing in the middle of the room, his thumbs in his back pockets, bracing himself for an unpleasant encounter.

“So? Did you?”

“Pa, the thing in the kitchen….”

“I’m not talking about the kitchen!” Ben snapped, his eyes glowering.

Adam’s brow furrowed. “What then?”

“Your behaviour!” Ben lowered his voice again, which was no sign for any ease of his mood. “Your erratic behaviour all throughout the last days, nay, weeks! You’re gone all day, you neglect your duties, you leave your chores to your brothers, and you exhibit a comportment that is, to put it very mildly, objectionable.” With every word, the subdued voice became louder and harsher. “And I will NOT tolerate this any longer!”

For a moment Adam was completely taken aback. While he had known that his father was angry, he had not been prepared for an onslaught like that. He had neglected his work, yes… although he had practically ridden every single foot of fence across the Ponderosa in the past days, using the long rides with Lilyah to check on even the remotest spots.

Ben did not give him much time to think. It was like he was talking himself into a rage as he paced back and forth, waving his arms at every word he spoke. “We have a ranch to run! Obligations to look after, contracts to fulfill! All things that you seem to have forgotten lately!”

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating it a little? I might not…” Adam did not get any further.

“Exaggerating?” Ben bellowed, his eyes shooting flashes. “If someone here is exaggerating something, it is you! And I am going to put an end to it!”

Adam slowly raised his head, his eyes narrowed.

Ben thrust his hands to his hips. “We have those 400 head of cattle ready for the drive to Eastgate, I want you to take them there! A few weeks on the trail surely will help you to clear your head and get back to your senses!”

“What??” Adam stood dumbstruck, barely trusting his ears.

“You heard me right, son!” Ben stood with his chest proffed out, his son’s reaction making him even angrier. “You’ll ride to the lower south valley near Carson right now and prepare the trail to move tomorrow at sunup. Lew Benson will be your right hand; I’m afraid you’ll be a bit short of men, though. You better get started!”

Adam drew a deep breath. He hated to do it, but the words came out almost against his will. “Can’t Hoss or Joe…”

Ben cut him off with what sounded like an angry gnarl. “I need Hoss here, and Joe deserves a week off after doing your chores for you!” He stopped his pacing around, his eyes nailing his son on the spot. “What is wrong with you, boy? It’s not anything like you to dodge yourself around your duties!”

Adam uncomfortably crossed his arms, grappling his own upper arms almost like shutting himself up. “I wasn’t aware we had 400 head ready for…”

“Of course not!” Ben thundered. “You’re not aware of anything, after wasting days on end doing nothing but riding around with that circus attraction of yours!”

Adam’s eyes turned black. He abruptly turned his back to his father, staring at the cold ashes of the hearth to fight down the sudden anger boiling up inside of him.

Ben looked at his son’s back and knew that he had gone too far. He saw from the movement of Adam’s shoulders that he needed another deep breath to collect himself, and part of him wished that Adam would snap around and voice whatever rage he felt within, even scream at him. Like Joe would do, angrily trying to make his father understand what he had on his mind. Yet he knew it would not happen when Adam slowly turned around. His hazel eyes still were almost black, but his face was blank, void of even the slightest emotion. It was as if he was suddenly wearing a mask.

“The herd is standing in the lower south valley near Carson,” Ben continued. “You will have to look in Carson City if you can hire some men; we cannot spare more hands since we have to handle the California cattle we bought.” He scanned Adam’s face but saw nothing but unfazed aloofness. It bristled him, he wanted to get at least a reaction. Almost provocatively he added, “I hope you have not forgotten we bought that cattle!”

“I was present when we bought them.” Adam remarked dryly. “Lilyah is looking forward to a ride today. She needs to exercise her stallion, and I don’t want her to ride out alone.”

Ben nodded his head. “I’m aware of that… Joseph!”

Little Joe looked up, a mixture of confusion and suspicion on his face.

“You will take Miss Lilyah on a ride today!” Ben registered with some satisfaction the bedraggled look of his youngest son – one perfectly fine guarantee that he would not lose his head over the Arab sphinx.

“But… Pa, you said I would have a week…”

“Well, young man, it certainly won’t take you the whole day to take her on a ride; an hour or two should be sufficient to exercise that horse. Miss Lilyah is a guest of our house and we all have to look after her!”

Little Joe uncomfortably avoided his oldest brother’s look. “Yes, Sir…”

“Alright!” Ben resolutely clapped his hands together. “We got a ranch to run and starting right now we’re all going to remember it. Oh, and Adam, please saddle my horse for me, I have a meeting in Virginia City with the Cattlemen Association.”

Adam turned around, took his hat and his gun belt and left the house with no further word.
* * *

 

Lilyah put Chai’s front hoof that she had been cleaning out down on the ground again as Adam approached her. His face… it was strangely distant and aloof, all the happiness, the mischief and the softness of this morning seemed to have gone. Her eyes wandered over to the ranch house were Ben Cartwright appeared and slowly began to walk over to them. She did not like the thought that Adam might have gotten in trouble for something that she had done. Judging from his look, he must have been hurt…

“Lilyah, I’m sorry…” Even his voice seemed to have changed. “I can’t ride with you today. I have some work to do.”

She silently nodded her head. In a first impulse she raised her hand to touch his face, but then let it fall again. The silver-haired man was watching, and she could feel his disapproval towards her. Now she regretted that she had brought Chai to the barn to give him a good grooming. She should have stayed on the pasture, out of the sight from the house.

“Good morning, Miss Lilyah!” Ben stopped and threw a cautious look at the black stallion who gave him a rather unfriendly snort. The horse wore neither a halter nor a rope. “Wouldn’t it be safer to tie this animal down for grooming?”

“I never tie him down.” Lilyah collected herself, “Mr. Cartwright, I have to apologize for this morning. I made a mistake and…”

“Aw, come on!” Ben forced a little laugh, more out of politeness than real humour. “We won’t talk about this anymore! Oh, and you won’t have to forego your ride today. My youngest son Joseph will be happy to accompany you. Adam, my horse!”

Lilyah almost cringed as Adam turned around without a word and disappeared in the barn. She could sense that he felt rebuked by this short command, she had seen the barely perceptible flinch in his eyes, she knew that he was biting down his anger. How could his father treat him like this? Was it all because of her? It hurt her deep inside, but it also angered her, brushed away all the guilty feelings she’d had because of the pan.

“My son Hoss had prepared a little breakfast,” Ben went on. “Nothing much, just coffee and sandwiches.”

“I’m not very hungry, thank you.” Lilyah tapped Chai’s chest, causing the stallion to move backwards, away from the silver-haired man. She felt uncomfortable as he kept on watching her, not knowing what to say or what to do, when every word that came to her mind would be grossly impolite. Her small hand clutched the hoof pick. She still had the hind hooves to clean out.

Ben watched as she went behind the horse and picked up one of the hind hooves, placing it on her knees and starting to clean it out. As usual she wore one of her flowing outlandish robes and the sight of the horse’s hoof resting on gilded velvet and brocade was downright absurd. Apart from the fact that not only her long dark hair, but also the golden trinkets and silks of her head jewelry were literally dangling over the hoof as she worked on it. Shaking his head he came closer, still cautious as the stallion’s ears pricked backwards. This horse had an unsettling habit of staring at a person, and right now he glared at Ben.

“I certainly don’t want to criticise, but… don’t you have any more appropriate clothes to wear?”

She put down the hoof and straightened, her brow darkened. “I’m sorry… I did not know that a more formal dress would be required.” For one fleeting moment an almost imperceptible trace of derision stole over her lips. “I’m afraid I have only a limited choice of dresses with me. When you ride, you just prefer sturdier fabrics, as the more delicate ones might get too easily damaged. I was under the impression my garments would be sufficient for this surrounding.”

For a moment Ben had his mouth hanging open. “Uhm… yes, of course, of course…”

He took a step backwards when the black stallion threw up his head and half reared to slam his front hooves into the ground. The small dished head looked downright dangerous as the horse snapped his teeth in the air.

“You really should not let him run loose like this!” Ben was forced to make another move when the stallion danced a circle, shaking his long mane. If she would at least bother to put a halter on that animal! The look from her dark eyes bristled him even more – it was downright haughty, contemptuous even.

“He’s just showing off a little.” Lilyah did not even flinch at her horse’s acting. “Arabian horses have a very playful nature.” While this was true, she knew that Chai was reacting to her own uneasiness. The sensitive horse could feel the tension in the air and responded to it. Nonetheless he stood still after a soft “Chai, stop it.”

“I would appreciate it if you put a halter on this animal for as long as it is on the Ponderosa!” Ben toned down his voice when the stallion tossed up his head, letting an aggressive snort. For a moment he had an awkward feeling, as if this horse understood every word and vastly disliked every one. Ben furrowed his brow. He was used to horses who would stand around indifferently, looking at nothing in particular. This stallion stood there with his head held high, alert and paying attention to just about everything around him, and right now he was staring at Ben in an almost penetrating manner. Ben changed his position and stepped right in front of the horse, knowing that equines could not focus well on anything straight ahead. The black stallion gave an almost contemptuous snort and shifted his own position, firmly keeping the man in his eye.

“Your horse, Pa…”

Ben turned around, scrutinizing Adam’s face. Was he mistaken or had there been a tinge of amused sarcasm in his son’s voice? Yet Adam’s features were as remote and blank as they had been before. Not even the hint of a smirk showed around his lips. Therefore, the black stallion gave a nickering that sounded like a chuckle and Adam gently greeted the horse by giving him a short stroke.

Ben took the reins of his buckskin. “Has Adam told you that he won’t be around for a couple of weeks?”

Lilyah looked up, shocked. Her lips opened, but she did not answer, her dark eyes wandering to Adam, trying to read his face.

Adam drew a breath. “I’ll have to go on a cattle drive, it should take about two weeks.” He made a little pause before he continued, “Have you ever been on a cattle drive?”

Ben froze in place, his jaw almost hitting the ground.

“No… but I’ve accompanied my father while driving a herd of horses! From Agadir to Marrakech, and also from Agadir to Fes!” The trace of a smile appeared on Lilyah’s face as she spotted the little spark of warmth in Adam’s eyes, a tiny little one, yet happily dancing around the brown rays in his hazel eyes, unaffected by the cold demeanour he so sullenly displayed.

“Now wait a minute!” Ben got loud again. “There is no place for a woman on a cattle drive! It’s 120 miles to Eastgate, through dry and rough terrain, it is a long and hard trail!”

“It’s 150 miles from Agadir to Marrakech.” Lilyah’s voice was quiet. “And about 400 miles from Agadir to Fes… through the desert and across the Atlas mountains.”

“I WILL NOT TOLERATE…” Ben choked down the rest of his thundering words as the black stallion acted up again. Heaving a deep breath, he menacingly stared from one to another. Adam just raised his brows and looked sideways as if the whole scene was of no concern to him; Lilyah turned away, disconcertedly fiddling with some of her jewelry. The only one who openly and brazenly returned Ben’s glowering look was the horse.

Ben pushed the air through his nose. “Adam, you ride to the lower south valley right now, don’t lose any more time!” Even though Ben almost whispered, his voice revealed all too clearly that he was seething. “And you, Miss Lilyah, put a halter on this horse!”

Turning around, he spotted Little Joe, who awkwardly stood just a few yards away. “And you take Miss Lilyah for a ride, right now!”

Little Joe attempted a sheepish grin. “Sure, Pa… I was just about to saddle Cochise…”

“You do that, son!” Ben mounted his horse. “Adam! You come along!”

Adam mounted his chestnut and rode out of the yard without waiting for his father.
* * *

 

“Hey, Lilyah, don’t be sad about the cattle drive!” Little Joe did his best to cheer up the silent woman riding next to him. Ever since they had started out from the ranch, she had barely spoken a word, except for a compliment about Cochise’s color. Every attempt of charming conversation failing, he had finally come to the conclusion that she was probably the kind of woman who would actually prefer sitting there with a somber face listening to Adam reading Shakespeare or something. Nevertheless he boldly continued his efforts. “Those two weeks will be gone like a wink, and Adam will be back in time for his birthday!”

Lilyah halted Chai so abruptly that the stallion tossed his head. “Birthday??”

“Yes, in two weeks.” Little Joe reined in Cochise. “He turns 34.”

“Oh…” Lilyah’s thoughts started racing as she nudged Chai into a light trot. Adam’s birthday… it was not only a welcomed distraction from her sorrowful thoughts, but it also offered an unexpected possibility to maybe do something about a very special matter.

Joe noticed with some amusement that her attitude had changed from thoughtful brooding to barely concealed excitement. She might have the habit of throwing things after Adam, but she seemed to care a great deal about him nonetheless.

“Joe!” Lilyah halted Chai again, turning to the young man. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure…” With slight surprise he registered that she had even changed in her looks. When before she had looked like one of those serene medieval virgins in the history book, she now resembled a spirited child. She was much prettier this way.

“But you must not tell Adam!”

“Of course not!” He put a hand on his heart. “You can trust me!”

Lilyah took a deep breath. “Joe, where can I buy a horse in this area?”

His jaw dropped. “A… horse?”

“Not just any horse! A good horse, a real good horse – a great horse!” Her small hands stressed every word. “Adam told me that there are no Arabians anywhere near here, but maybe thoroughbreds!”

“What do you need another horse for?”

Lilyah’s cheeks blushed to a deep red as she bashfully dropped her eyes, her fingers picking at Chai’s mane. “Well, it might be a gift…”

“For Adam?” Joe almost cackled, but caught himself as he saw her wince.

“Do you think it would be… somehow inappropriate?”

“No, not at all…” He shook his head. “In fact, I remember some years ago when Adam said that a horse would always make a wonderful gift…”

“Is that so?” Her eyes lit up.

“Yes – but he already has a horse!”

“Oh, come on!” Lilyah’s brow furrowed. “That four-legged sofa!”

This time he didn’t suppress his cackle. “Oh yeah… that just about sums it up! Nothing like my Cochise! But a thoroughbred… no!” He shook his head. “Lilyah, he had a thoroughbred, a mix, that is – I think it was an eighth of a thoroughbred, or even a quarter! A big, beautiful chestnut gelding, Sport was his name. Has he told you about him?”

“No…” She looked at him. “What happened to Sport?”

“He had to sell him – he almost got killed by that horse! Pa had told him right from the beginning that Sport wasn’t a ranch horse, but Adam was adamant to keep him, I guess he was proud of him. Sport was very spirited, used to act up a lot, and at times we had a real good laugh when Adam rode into Virginia City sideways because the horse wouldn’t stop prancing.” He drew a deep breath. “However, such antics are nothing you can use when you’re on a cattle drive. Adam used to have a firm grip on that horse, but about three years ago on a trail the herd went unruly and Sport started acting up. Adam was so busy reining in his horse that for one moment he failed to watch out. Sport spooked, ran into the cows, they both fell, and had it not been for Hoss, Adam might have been trampled to death.”

Lilyah’s heart ached by just imagining such a fall for Adam. With a sigh she said, “That is the problem with a lot of thoroughbreds. Many of them just don’t have the heart and the soul that an Arabian has. And I assume that this was the reason, because it surely wasn’t a matter of bad training.”

“Adam is one of our best horse breakers, if not the best!” Joe confirmed. “Sport just had too much temper and that one eighth of thoroughbred made him edgy!”

Lilyah shook her head. “Temper should not be the problem and neither should be race! It’s a matter of character and heart!”

“Aw, come on!” Joe stemmed one hand in his hip. “Some horses just don’t make good ranch horses. They are just bred for good looks or speed, like thoroughbreds, or Arabians like your stallion. I can tell by just looking at this feller that he is incredibly fast, and that’s great! But he cannot do what a ranch horse can do!”

Lilyah raised her chin, her eyes sparkling. “And what would that be?”

“Doing a full stop, or turning on the spot, for example!”

She pursed her lips and made Chai turn on the spot.

Joe laughed. “Not like that! Like this – watch me!” He hammered his heels into his horse’s side such that the pinto gave a loud neigh and immediately set off in a full gallop. After a good 100 yards he yelled out “Now watch!”, yanking his horse around into a rapid 180 degree haul.

“Did you see that?” Joe screamed from the distance. “And now watch this!” He again brought Cochise into a fast gallop, raced up to where Lilyah waited and then forced the pinto to an abrupt halt, so rapidly that the horse almost sat on his behind. “You see?” Joe donned a triumphant grin.

“I see…” Lilyah gave him an elfin smile. “And now you watch!”

Little Joe had his mouth hanging open as the black stallion shot off, performed an equally sharp 180 degree turn and then raced up to him, executing an equally rapid stop.

“Wow…” Joe was genuinely impressed.

Lilyah chuckled. “But I assume ranch work is not just about riding tricks.”

“No, it’s not. A horse has to be sturdy, calm, able to run with the cattle without spooking, and reliable enough to not need constant reining. Sport was a great horse, but Adam had to keep an eye on him all the time. More often than not he needed both hands for the reins – and that is not what a good ranch horse is supposed to be. A good ranch horse should be worked with one hand and be stable even without the reins, for example, when you need the lasso or something.”

“I understand.” Lilyah took a deep breath, her eyes getting a pleading look. “Joe… Would you help me find a good horse? I can recognize a fine horse and make sure it is not a porcelain horse, but I would not know what to look for in a good ranch horse. Could you help me with that?”

“Sure!” He squinted his eyes. “I could figure a row of good tests for a horse… you’ve come to the right man!”

“Thank you, Joe!” Lilyah beamed. “Adam has told me that you know a great deal about horses…”

“Oh, did he?” For one moment Joe looked like a happy little boy, before he hastily assumed a more conceited attitude and nonchalantly asked, “What is a porcelain horse?”

“That’s what unfortunately many thoroughbreds are – horses made of porcelain! They are good for as long as they run on smooth and even ground, but as soon as they get on a rougher terrain, they stumble over their own legs and break all their bones.”

Joe pulled a grim face. “Nah, we can’t use that!”

“I guessed as much!” Lilyah’s eyes became shiny. “The horse that I have in mind needs to have a perfectly sure footing! It should be fast and endurant, with quick reactions and great power! It needs to have great courage, intelligence, loyalty and enough heart to fight for its master! It should be a horse that can carry him through the desert, across the mountains, a horse that will stay faithful and steady in battle…”

“Uhm…” Joe raised a finger. “Adam doesn’t go to any battles.”

She gave him an admonishing look. “Didn’t you just tell me that he almost got killed because his old horse spooked from a herd of cows? That wouldn’t have happened with a horse that can keep its calm during the heat of a battle!”

“Yes…” He looked surprised. “You’ve got a point there… I’ve never looked at it from that.”

“Like I told you, Joe, it’s all about character and heart.”

“The question is, where do we find such a horse?” Joe knitted his brow, strenuously thinking.

“HAH!” All of a sudden, he snipped his fingers, almost jumping in the stirrups and with little concern that both Chai and Lilyah flinched at the rapid outburst. Even Cochise nervously rotated his ears.

“What?” Liyah gave Chai a reassuring pat.

Joe’s green eyes glittered. “The Ortega Ranch! That’s where we find that horse!” He gave her a triumphant look. “I’ve been there with Pa and Hoss! Señor Ortega breeds thoroughbreds, but mixes them with Andalusians…”

“Andalusians?” Lilyah was thrilled, her eyes began to sparkle.

“Not just any Andalusians!” Joe specified. “They are very special Andalusians, he has brought them all the way from Spain! He said they improve the thoroughbreds, in regard to power, endurance and stamina!”

Lilyah was so excited that Chai began to dance. Special Andalusians from Spain – there was only one way for the Spanish to make their horses ‘special’, and that would be breeding them with either Arabians or Barbs. And then mixing with thoroughbreds… “Joe! I have to see these horses!”

“We can go there…” Joe started dreaming himself. Señor Ortega not only had good horses. He also had two most beautiful maiden daughters, one prettier than the other, both of which had cast their eyes on young Cartwright when he had been there. Evita and Dolores… Joe could still hear their giggles and kittenish whisperings, and he still was mad at his father for dragging him out of that place by the scruff.

“When?” Lilyah’s enthusiasm grew as she watched the elated expression on Joe’s face. Judging from his shining eyes, those horses must be spectacular.

“Any time you want.” Joe’s face sobered up. “But… there’s a downside to it – the Ortega Ranch is in California! It’s a good five days’ ride.”

Lilyah’s smile faded away, her brow furrowed. “Joe, that’s too far! I cannot be gone for so long, Adam would be wondering, and I don’t want him to know anything beforehand. Isn’t there any closer place?”

“Not that I know of. There are thoroughbred breeders in Kentucky and Mexico, but that would be weeks to travel!”

Lilyah sadly dropped her eyes.

“HAH!” Joe’s fingers snipped again. “Adam won’t notice anything! He’ll be gone on his cattle drive!”

“But… I thought of going with him…”

“What?” Joe laughed. “You must be joshing! Pa would kill Adam if he takes you along, and the other men would be laughing at him!”

She gave him an unhappy look. “Laughing?”

“Maybe not in his face, but surely behind his back.” He drove Cochise closer to Chai. “Lilyah, I heard what he said. But I don’t think you should go. Pa would be mad as a hornet, and you can take it from me, he could make Adam’s life a living hell! And the drive would not be pleasant. Think of the other men who would be around, day and night! It’s no place for a woman and Adam should know that.” He shook his head. “Dang, a few years ago I brought two ladies to the pasture to just have a look at the herd. Adam went all over me for bringing women along and he was downright nasty!”

Lilyah bit her lower lip. She could not even bear the thought of not seeing Adam for two weeks; not to speak of the rather unsettling prospect of being without him for so long on the Ponderosa – an unbearable thought. Maybe he had felt the same, and had asked her without thinking much further. Had he even asked her to come along? She sighed. She also hadn’t thought of other men laughing at him. No one had dared laughing at the sheikh taking his daughter along on his trails, but that certainly had been a different matter. Adam obviously hadn’t the authority to do as he pleased, and his father didn’t seem willing to grant it to him. The thought made her sad. Adam was such a proud man…

“Hey!” Little Joe gave her an assuring grin. “Don’t be sad! It is actually quite perfect – Adam is gone for 14 days, maybe 13 if he rides fast on his way back. That gives us time enough to ride to the Ortega ranch: five days to there, five days back, and three or four days in between to test the horses and find a good one!” He made a dramatic pause and added, “And when he comes back, he’ll get the greatest horse ever as a birthday gift! Hey..” He winked at her. “I do know he is not perfectly happy with the gelding he has now. Couple of months ago I outdid him in a small race to Virginia City, and he said I couldn’t have done that if he’d still had Sport!”

A small smile showed on her lips. If she could find the horse she had in mind, no one would ever outdo Adam in anything again! She recalled her rides with him, like he always used to wait with his chestnut when Chai had his exercise racing. He never said a word but she could sense that he would just love to take part in the races. He just didn’t try because he knew that his horse wouldn’t stand a chance.

She resolutely straightened her back. “My father always said: ‘A man needs a good horse!’ And I will get him that horse!”

“That’s the spirit!” Joe laughed. Who could have guessed that his unappreciated chaperone duty would have turned out be so pleasant? And a nice trip to California certainly would be more fun than just going fishing or hanging around in town. What were the bumpkins in Virginia City compared to Evita and Dolores? Of course he would not only think of the girls, he would assist a young lady to find a birthday gift for his older brother. She could not do it alone, so he was practically helping a damsel in distress.

“But what about you?” she asked. “Will your father allow you to be gone so long – with me?”

Joe’s laugh fell off his face and he pulled an uncomfortable grimace. Ouch… “Let me think!” He pressed his lips together. “What we need is a plan! A strategy!”

Lilyah patiently waited.

“HAH!” The inevitable finger snip clicked through the air. “I’ve got it!” His green eyes started glistening. “Pa gave me a week off! I’ll tell him I go fishing and hunting and then looking for strays – that will easily give me the 14 days we need! And you will go on a ride and tell Pa you’ll go after Adam!”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“You won’t, of course – that’s the trick! Adam will be gone, and Pa will never know that you meet with me instead!”

“But, Joe! You just told me that he would be mad at Adam, and give him hell!”

“That’s another trick!” He made a clever face. “Of course he’ll be mad, but when Adam comes back, he’ll realize that he’d done him wrong! And that will cause him to sugarcoat Adam for weeks to come, to make up for it.” He gave her an impish grin. “Bad conscience and all, you understand?”

Her face broke into a wide smile. “Joe, you’re brilliant!”

“Thank you!” He grinned cheekily. “This is actually one of my best talents. I’m a master strategist!”

“I can believe that!”

Joe’s self-satisfied grin faded again. “Another point… Ortega horses are rather expensive. Even the cheaper ones won’t go for less than 800 dollars. I know that, we’ve been there.”

“That’s not a problem, I have about 400 dollars on me and I can sell some of my jewelry. And I don’t want to go for the cheaper ones. It has to be a great horse, not just any horse.”

Joe raised his brows. “I’m not sure if Adam would let you sell your jewelry for that.”

She creased her forehead. “I don’t intend to ask him.”

Joe grinned. This little lady sure knew what she wanted.

Lilyah however felt suddenly unsure. “Joe… if the horse is expensive, Adam must never know it. I don’t want to embarrass him.”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “We’ll hatch a plan for that when we have the horse! I’ll find something you can tell him! Do you know where to sell the jewelry?”

“No…”

“But I do!” He made an important face. “I have a banker in Virginia City who will pay you a good price if the jewelry is worth it!”

“It should be.” She gave him a grateful smile. “Joe, I don’t know how to thank you! You must love your brother very much to do this for him!”

“Sure thing!” Joe cleared his throat. “Like you said, a man needs a good horse! But we have to be absolutely discreet about it!” He raised a finger. “Nobody should get the slightest suspicion!”

“This is self-explanatory!”

Joe nodded his head. “Good! I will work out some more details, we will have to act swiftly and cunningly!” He drew his hat deeper into his face and nudged Cochise into a light canter.

Lilyah followed, torn apart between the excitement about the prospected horse and the pain of not seeing Adam for so long.
* * *