Wednesday

Hoss leaned back in the rocker. Adam was finally sound asleep. After having insisted on refusing the sleeping powder the doc had left for him, he had tossed and turned in his bed more than Hoss had liked it, complaining about it being too hot in the room, too stuffy, too crowded. Well, Hoss hadn’t been able to help with the last, because he had vowed to his father that, come hell or high water, he wouldn’t leave Adam’s room for even a split second, but he had opened the bedroom window to let in cool and fresh evening air, and this eventually had done the trick, and Adam had finally settled down and drifted off.

The past twenty-four hours had been an ordeal for the whole family, who had taken turns to watch over the reluctant patient. The doctor had left them with a drugged Adam, which inevitably had triggered the dreaded nightmares. Adam had woken up several times, panting hard and sweating. He had refused to tell them what his dreams were about, but from all his writhing and head throwing when he was in the clutches of a dream, it was quite clear that the images they provided were at least unpleasant.

Later that night Adam’s fever had spiked, and that had seemed to provide more fodder for his nightmares. He had thrashed out in a ferocity that had made them fear for the newly administered stitches, and so they had awoken him every time his tossing and turning had gotten too wild for their liking. When being pulled out of yet another disturbing vision, Adam had looked at them with unfocussed, burning, fever bright eyes, clutching whatever piece of clothing he could get a hold on, and had agitatedly asked the same question time and again: “Is Juliet all right?”

Of course, they had assured him that Juliet was fine, that she was safely at home in Virginia City, and didn’t he remember she had been here, at the Ponderosa, only yesterday and slept so peacefully on the rocker at his bedside? Adam had stared at them, slurring things like “Bu’ they wanna hurt ‘er…” or “Gotta help ‘er…” before sliding back into restless sleep.

By one in the morning the fever had raged in Adam’s unresisting body so furiously that it had taken both Hoss and Joe to keep their brother from throwing himself off the bed. He had become even more agitated, demanding to be let out of his room to go and save “Mylady” from “the varmint” (and if all this hadn’t been so scary, Hoss would have laughed out loud at this – he had never heard his brother use this expression before, but from an earlier conversation with Adam he knew perfectly well where this came from). At that point his father had been ready to send Joe for the doctor, despite the dangers of a ride to Virginia City in the dark of the night, and had even suggested Joe might try and ask Miss Heatherstone to come to the Ponderosa, only so Adam could somehow be convinced she was, indeed, perfectly all right; when suddenly Adam had become deadly still, opened his eyes and said calmly, “Either one of you opens the window or you all leave this room. There’s far too much of a crowd in here, and since I designed this house I can tell you with certainty this room wasn’t meant to be a place of assembly.”

They had stared at him, stunned, and then Hoss had reached out and felt Adam’s brow, and had smiled broadly when he had announced, “The fever has broken.”

They had been too exhausted by then to cheer heartily, but had patted Adam on his shoulder and his leg and seemingly everywhere else they could reach him. Pa had given him a drink of cool water and had bathed his face with some more water, and Adam had turned onto his side, sighed deeply and slipped into a peaceful slumber. And then they had organised their watch schedule, and finally gotten some sleep, too.

Adam had slept long into the morning, and when he woke up he had looked considerably healthier and better rested than the day before. He surely looks more rested than Pa, Hoss had thought, but he couldn’t fathom what had kept his father from sleep, after Adam so clearly had been out of the woods.

The solution of the riddle had come later that day. Adam had been reading a few pages of the book from his nightstand, then had asked Joe to give him another one from the shelf, had read a few paragraphs in that, but obviously hadn’t been satisfied with it and asked for yet another book. When Hoss had come into the room for the changing of the guard, as Adam called it, in late afternoon, Joe had drummed his fingers on Adam’s desk, looking quite exasperated, and asking impatiently, “I think there are two or three books left on the shelf, do you wanna have a peek into them now, too?”

Adam had just waved him off with an irritated flick of his hand, and when Joe had opened his mouth to say something that would inevitably cause a major eruption at the sick bed, Hoss had intervened and said, “Why don’cha go an’ hava nice cuppa coffee, Joe, an’ I see that big brother here get what he need. All right?”

Joe had given him a brief relieved glance and had left the room muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Ol’ bossy boots don’ even know what he wants.”

Hoss had sat down at his brother’s side, looked at the dozens of books that were strewn on the bed covers and the floor round the bed, and had softly asked, “What is it yer lookin’ fer, Adam?”

“Just something to keep me occupied, Hoss. I need something to do, something to keep my mind busy. But I have read each and everyone of these books at least a dozen times. And I have stayed in this bed far too long already.” Adam had looked at Hoss with a look that could have melted stone, and he had drawn out downright desperately, “I’m bored, Hoss.”

Hoss had had to laugh at this display. Adam had looked and sounded exactly like the twelve year old boy who had been confined to his bed for long weeks with meningitis, who, for fear of overexertion, hadn’t been allowed to read during recuperation, and who had complained (only to Hoss, so not to cause his pa and heavily pregnant ma any more troubles) bitterly, “I’m so bored, Hoss!” And just like back then, Hoss hadn’t had anything to offer to make Adam’s life less miserable than it was but his wide toothy grin and the words, “There’s no way you get outta this bed, Adam. But ya jest calm down, I gonna tell ya some funny story.”

While he had still been searching his mind for a funny story Adam yet hadn’t heard, Pa had entered the room, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee and a broad smile.

“I just heard Paul’s buggy coming in the yard, Adam,” he had said. “If he thinks you’re up to it, maybe you’ll like to have some of the cake Mrs. Hawkins made for you.”

“I just hope he brings Juliet along.” Suddenly Adam had looked far more cheerful. “She promised to bring me a new book she discovered at her next visit.”

Pa had looked uncomfortable. “Um, son, I, um, wouldn’t count too much on that. Surely Miss Heatherstone can’t come out to the Ponderosa every other day. It’s a long way, and she’s got a job in the town and certainly a lot of other, er, occupations, too.” He had spoken uncharacteristically fast, like he had wanted to get it over with, and Hoss had eyed him suspiciously. Pa had glared back, silently daring him to say a word. Hoss hadn’t had any idea what, but something clearly had been going on. He had never considered his father a coward, but something in Pa’s behaviour had struck Hoss as cowardly.

Adam had been oblivious to their exchange. He had shifted himself into a more comfortable position, and looked quite relaxed and content.

“I don’t think Juliet minds the long way very much, Pa. In fact, she promised to make it today. And I have to admit, I’m glad she’s coming. No offense, but it’ll be very nice to see another face.”

Pa had actually stepped from one foot to another. “Well, I’m fairly sure she won’t come today. Paul said you needed rest and absolute quiet, and so we decided—“

Oh, Hoss had thought, that’s what’s going on.

“You decided? You decided what, Pa?”

“We decided that Miss Heatherstone’s erratic behaviour was too strenuous to—”

And then hell had broken loose.

Hoss thought back with a shudder at the argument between his father and his older brother, and as much as he sympathised with Adam, who had been disgusted at his father’s interference with his life, he also understood Pa’s rage at being called a “meddling old cockalorum”.

The pandemonium had only stopped when a red faced Doctor Martin had stormed into the room, bellowing at Pa, “You, out here!” and threatening Adam with a “very generously measured” dose of laudanum if he wouldn’t calm down “in an instant!”

For the rest of the day Adam had been grumpy. He had spent quite some time sitting in his bed, propped up at the headboard, his arms crossed, and glaring at everyone who had ventured into his room. When this had gotten too tedious, he had opened a random book and read it without really paying it attention.

While Pa had been fuming downstairs, and Joe had done everyone’s chores just to stay out of the danger zone that had seemed to occupy most of the house, Hoss had brought Adam a bowl of broth and insisted that Adam empty it to the last drop. He had entertained his brother with stories from their childhood, hadn’t spared Adam from a comparison of his recent attitude with that of his twelve year old self, and had finally managed to distract Adam’s mind from the betrayal of which he accused their father. They had talked amiably until long after dark, had shared some long forgotten tales from the days when they had been only two sons, and then two sons and new mama, and eventually two sons and a baby brother. Adam had gradually gone quieter, until he finally had found the peace and quiet the doctor had prescribed and decided to go to sleep.

Now he rested peacefully, without any disturbance, and Hoss closed his eyes to get a capful of sleep, too. Tonight the family wouldn’t take turns to watch over Adam; even Pa had grumpily agreed that it would be wiser if Hoss were there should Adam wake up at night. There would be time tomorrow to sort things out between father and son, but tonight it would be just Hoss and Adam.

Hoss yawned heartily, wriggled himself comfortably into the rocker and tightened the blanket he had draped around his shoulders. The last thing he contemplated before he let himself slip into oblivion was Adam’s sleeping face that reminded Hoss so much of the child his big brother had once been. He decided that Adam hadn’t looked this relaxed since the day he had been shot; and so Hoss wouldn’t have to feel bad when tomorrow morning he would leave the room and the ranch to keep his own appointment at Virginia City with none other than Miss Juliet.