Summary: In the middle of a busy Christmas morning, Adam receives a request from Roy Coffee to help him investigate a possible crime in Virginia City. The case intrigues him as he follows the clues along with Roy and Paul Martin, and he has a moment of agony as the truth becomes obvious. In the midst of this difficult truth, he receives a few unexpected reminders of the true meaning of Christmas, and is able to offer the gift of restoration.  (This story does cover a sensitive topic in a gentle way)

Rating: K+

Word Count: 10649

 

One

Christmas at the Ponderosa varied year-to-year based on weather. Sometimes the family was snowbound by November, while this current December was blessed with moderate temperatures and clear roads.

Ben and his sons had risen long before sunrise to enjoy a Christmas breakfast of ham, eggs and the wonderful fruit and nut filled sweet bread called stollen. They weren’t sure how their Chinese cook had learned to make this amazement, but it was likely he’d heard ladies of Germanic ancestry talk of it at the general store in town, and found a recipe he’d adapted. This, along with the French yule log cake he would serve after tonight’s dinner, were two sweets Hop Sing made better than anyone: probably even the renowned pastry chefs at restaurants in bigger cities.

With dinner guests arriving later, and helping the trail cook employed by the Cartwrights to put on a feast for the crew at noon, Hop Sing didn’t refuse the Cartwrights’ offer of help following breakfast. The two younger sons cleared the table while Adam rolled up his shirtsleeves to wash and Ben dried. Joe and Hoss lent further help by adding a board to the allow more room at the table later, and carrying out the tableware and linens their cook would use to set up for the evening feast.

There’d been an earlier party hosted at the Ponderosa for the Cartwright neighbors and friends, but Roy and Paul were the only two invitees for tonight’s dinner, chosen to give the two most often sought out members of the community on any day of the year, a break in the daily grind. They’d been told to find someone to cover their jobs so they could to stay the night and take advantage of a few blessed hours of peace while being served rather than serving.

When Hop Sing’s kitchen was returned to order; he issued his directive that the four men leave his domain and not return unless there was an emergency, and the Cartwrights readily obeyed the command, heading to the room at opposite end of the living area that had served as their original bunkhouse, to finish their own preparations for handing out Christmas gifts to their year-round ranch hands. The number of such employees had risen over the years, and it had become a tradition to give practical items like new gloves, socks, and bedrolls for personal comfort, along with scrip they could use in town to replace worn items of clothing or gear. The men appreciated these thoughtful gifts, since they were prone to leaving such items behind each time they broke camp, resulting in them having just one glove and mismatched socks left by this time of year. But the gift they anticipated the most, was the small envelope they’d receive containing crisp bills to spend as they wished.

Hoss had already decorated the room with pine boughs for a little Christmas cheer, and once the crew had gathered and the gifts and thanks had been distributed, the sons headed to the barn for morning chores, and finally regrouped around the tall decorated pine in their living room to open their gifts to one another.

***

“I’m not complaining,” Joe stated as he handed Adam his gift. “But each year it gets harder to come up with something for the man who has everything he wants, buys what he needs and really doesn’t want or need anything.”

Adam grinned. “You’ve said many times that you know me well. Are you now saying that isn’t true?”

“Ahhhh … maybe I do know you well enough to know what you want. It’s just hard to know exactly what of what you want is what you want.”

Adam laughed along with his family. “Well … that clears things up.”

With ribbons and paper piled on the low table in front of the hearth, all gifts opened and thanks offered; Adam grabbed the compilation of poems he’d received from Joe. “This is exactly what I wanted. I take back what I said earlier. You do know me and must have paid attention when I mentioned this was coming out soon.”

Joe’s cheeks blazed to pink. “I’ll take some credit, but only for knowing where to go for help. I asked Marjory at the book store what you’d been looking at recently, and she sold me that one. Then she said she’d make sure you wouldn’t purchase it for yourself before Christmas.”

Adam’s laugh rang out like a Christmas bell. “That explains a lot. I’d seen it in the window, but when I went to buy it, Marjory said she’d sold every copy. You may not have known which book I wanted, Joe, but you knew where to start.”

The family’s continuing conversation about their gifts was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Ben glanced at the clock, even while knowing it was far too early for Paul or Roy to be arriving. He found Andy Markel outside, extending an envelope to him as soon as the door stood open.

Andy was a young man who cleaned and ran errands for Roy Coffee at the jail. “The sheriff had me bring this,” he began. “He says to apologize for interrupting your holiday, but could Adam please read it and give me an answer to take back to him.”

Adam’s left eyebrow arched dramatically as he walked over to retrieve the note while his father led Andy into the kitchen for a hot drink and some of Hop Sing’s Christmas sweets.

“Well, what does Roy want?” Ben asked after leaving the boy in the kitchen with his snack.

“There’s been a death in town, and he’s asking me to come in and investigate.”

“Who died?” Hoss asked. “And why can’t Roy investigate it?”

“Roy writes that his foot and ankle are still swollen from when he stepped in a pothole chasing that kid who stuffed his shirt full of goods at Wilson’s store, and he can’t even wear a shoe. The ‘who’ is Jeb Metzer.”

“Jeb … that small, mean drunk who’s always looking for a fight?” Joe asked.

“I assume so. He was found behind a saloon near the edge of town. Roy feels he probably tripped while drunk, and fell flat on his face, like a falling pine. Paul needs to take a better look at the body, but feels Roy’s on the right track.”

Hoss took on a decidedly sour expression. “That’s a bad end even for a mean ol’ curmudgeon like him, and specially hard for his wife to face on Christmas day. But if it’s cut and dried, why’s Roy investigating anything?”

“To make sure all is as it seems, I suppose.” Adam looked towards his father. “It’s ten now. An hour in, an hour or two to investigate, and another hour home would get Paul, Roy and me back in time for dinner.”

Ben’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t think you’re asking my permission.”

The oldest son knew he’d been caught in an explanation rather than asking to be excused for a few hours. His grimace changed to a lopsided grin. “I guess not, Pa.”

“Go on, then. I think Roy has given you the best gift of all: a chance to discover the truth. But … you three better not keep Hop Sing waiting. You know how upset he gets on any given evening. A holiday where he’s asked to keep dinner warm will cause a loud resignation and a promise to be gone by morning.”

Two

“Merry Christmas!” Adam called to Roy Coffee when he entered the sheriff’s office after a frosty, yet not uncomfortably cold ride to town. He noted the older man’s swollen foot resting on a stack of pillows. “That does look bad. Haven’t you been taking care of yourself?”

“I tried. But Clem’s been out of town visiting his folks for an early Christmas, so I kept going the best I could.  After limping around on my normal rounds and routines for a few days, it got so I could barely get my loose bedroom slipper over this elephant leg. Paul knew I had to be on duty, but he ordered me to hire someone to be my feet and stay put with my leg up until the swelling goes down. He also has Cynthia Gatsby coming round twice a day to do hot wraps, and he gave me crutches that are only for getting here and home or like today, out to investigate something unexpected.”

“Who’s been dealing with the desperados of Virginia City since you can’t hop around on one leg fast enough to catch a criminal.” Roy’s snarly expression revealed how little humor he found in his guest’s comments. “Sorry, Roy, you’re obviously not in the mood to be teased. I’m just as grouchy when I’m laid up. You’re still planning to come out to the house later?”

“Clem promised he get back early this afternoon, and then Paul will bring me to your place in his buggy.”

“Good! We’ll make sure you won’t have to move except to hop to the table. You can use the bedroom on the first floor tonight and Hop Sing might even furnish breakfast in bed come morning.”

Roy’s raised eyes and half-grin showed his unfamiliarity with receiving the kind of care Adam was offering, while also conveying his gratitude for having the Cartwrights as friends.

Adam unbuttoned his heavy coat and perched on the corner of Roy’s desk. “Tell me why I’m here.”

“To answer your question on who’s keepin’ the peace; I deputized Mick Michaels to be my legs. He’s young and respectful enough to not overstep the restricted authority accompanying that badge. He makes rounds, and he’s broken up fights, brought disorderly drunks in to sober up, taken reports of thievery and the like, and then I write up the reports and decide how to proceed.”

“I’m glad he’s doing well.”

“I called you in because Mick can’t follow through with an unexpected death like Jeb’s. Paul thinks something might be fishy, and I need your skill to investigate what we found, and give your thoughts.”

“You best tell me why this needs investigating or it’ll be time for us to head home for dinner.”  Adam’s grin softened his admonition, yet he knew Roy’s method of communicating often had to be lassoed in or his story would run loose a while longer.

“Salvador, the young Italian guy who bought the Watering Hole last year, found Jeb in the alley behind the saloon when he went outside to dump his mop bucket around 5:30 a.m. He could tell Jeb was dead, so he came to report it to us. I’d just gotten here and Mick has been sleeping at the jail, so we both went to check.  Once I saw Jeb’s condition, I sent Mick for Paul.”

“Why so?”

“It was still dark, but I could see a lot of blood on Jeb’s face and shirt when I rolled him over. And his face ….” Roy shivered noticeably. “I ain’t never seen such a wound, Adam. His nose was flat to his face and gaping open.”

Adam reacted to this information much as Roy had, and shivered despite still wearing his heavy coat. “Had he been out there all night?”

“Rigor mortis hadn’t set in. Jeb’s joints were still loose enough to move him easily, so Paul estimated he’d been dead less than two hours, and maybe even less in light of the cold.”

“Had Jeb been drinking at the Watering Hole earlier?” The rising tone of Adam’s voice indicated his growing fascination with this story. “Unlike places further in town that close their doors when the drinking gets light and the gambling is done, Salvador stays open to get the late-night clientele to bring in extra money. He’s got Steve to run the place at night and he’s big enough to keep order.”

Roy shook his head. “Jeb smelled of alcohol, but Salvador said business was slow with being Christmas eve, so he closed the place around six to be with his own family. He’s closed today too, but came in early to get the cleaning done and be back home before his kids woke up.”

Adam noticed a look of uncertainty wash across Roy’s face. “Despite what’s giving you the shivering willies about this; I get the feeling you aren’t in a rush to pin his death on someone else. He was such a contrary cuss that half the town has wanted to take a swing at him. The other already had.”

“Are you speaking from your own experience, Adam?”

“Jeb favored hard-drinking shacks with cheap rotgut booze out near the mines. Now and again, I’d end up out there for mining business. Jeb was always firmly attached to the bar, almost as though his coat was burred to the roughhewn wood they use instead of sawed wood, and well on his way to a full-blown drunk. But he’d come to life on seeing me, shouting his, ‘You think you’re so much better’n me cuz yer rich,’ harangue. I’d refuse to react or acknowledge him, so he’d get louder and more obnoxious until I’d finish and leave.  He’d follow me out, shooting his barbs at my back like bullets. For a guy several of inches shorter than Little Joe, he never backed away from his big mouth. I know he lost a few teeth when he used that vile tongue on the wrong guys.”

“I doubt there’s anyone in town who will mourn the man’s passing … or won’t say they figured he’d end up dead in the street, just as he did,” Roy added to Adam’s story. “But I’m sworn to uphold the law, and if he didn’t just trip in the dark and do himself in, then I gotta make an effort to get to the truth.”

“Does Emma know he’s dead? He wasn’t a good husband, but they were married a lot of years.”

“The odd thing was she came by while we were looking around,” Roy said with a growing bit of wariness in his voice. “Said Jeb wasn’t home, and she’d come looking to make sure he wasn’t sleeping in the cold alley somewhere.”

“Was she shocked by what she saw, or upset with his death?”

“More numb-like than aggrieved. I had Mick walk her back to her house, and promised someone will come see her after we finish investigating.” Roy’s wary look returned. “She was so quiet. Not a tear, and seemed far away from where she stood, if you know what I mean. Led me to wonder if she knows more than she said.”

“You might be right.” Adam drew a whistling breath between his front teeth. “You wonder if Jeb was a good man who simply got lost in alcohol. Most of us can indulge in a drink to warm up or relax now and then, but the same liquid becomes an unrelenting compulsion in others. It doesn’t discriminate either, destroying the lowly and the powerful. The only difference is the quality of the poison. The lowly die quicker because cheap booze is deadlier to body and mind.”

“The last few years all he’s done is drink and sweep walkways for a few businesses to get money for his next bottle. Emma has always cleaned to pay for their needs,” Roy offered.

“I recall them moving here right after silver was found, and buying that small house many considered a shack to be torn down. The city grew up around it, leaving it one of the few houses that wasn’t razed for a business. Yet Jeb didn’t come to mine or work in one. He always just did those odd jobs. Emma’s a sweet woman: respected and well liked. She’s got a knack for baking too—always winning the pie contests—and gets extra money from selling her sweets for parties.” Adam’s nose rose in a pucker. “Their house is on the street around the corner from the Watering Hole. Maybe he was headed home when he fell?” He dropped his fist softly on Roy’s desk to clear his thoughts for action. “Where should I start?”

“Go see Paul. He was called to see a sick baby before he could take a good look around where we found Jeb, and it was still dark then. But he should be home now. Mick and Salvador took Jeb’s body to Paul’s shed, so maybe he’s had time to take a closer look at the injury. The problem with all these folks who are helping me, is that they know nothing about tracking or seeing what others miss. And I trust you’ll dog the truth, even if it’s not what we wish it to be.” Roy frowned deeply, with his mustache following in its wake. “Gotta admit I wish I could do this with you, but I’d be in the way more than helpful.”

“No matter what I find, we’ll make the conclusions together, Roy.”

Three

Paul Martin was pouring a cup of coffee when Adam rapped on the door and slipped inside. “Merry Christmas,” he offered, before taking a cup from the cupboard and holding it out for the good doctor to fill. “Might you have anything to flavor this?” he teased. “It’s pretty chilly out there despite the sunshine.”

“I might, but I’ll have to wait until we get out to your place. News of a tipsy doctor showing up to render care spreads fast.”

“Reputation is everything,” Adam agreed. “But I have no reputation to uphold, so where’s the brandy?” He pulled the bottle from the shelf Paul indicated and added a splash to his cup.  “Have you had a chance to examine Jeb?”

A solid nod. “I felt something was off from the start, Adam, and feel it even more now. I’ve read case studies where someone was punched upwards at the nose, breaking the nasal cartilage and sending shards into the brain, causing death.”

“Roy said Jeb’s face was a fright. If that’s what killed him, could it happen by falling face-first without breaking his fall?”

“I can’t say with certainty that’s what happened, even though I’d stake that reputation you just mentioned on this being the cause of his demise.  Yet … there’s no indication he was in a fight prior to this deadly strike. He has no bruising on his hands or torso. And it’s unlikely someone would have walked up and socked him in the nose, although it’s possible. He was an ornery cuss.”

“Then you’re leaning towards him tripping?”

Paul huffed and shook his head. “It’s just as unlikely to have happened that way. When someone does one of those timber-style falls; their forward motion pushes the head backwards. He’d have struck the ground chin first, not nose first, snapping his cervical vertebrae. Those are so high on the spinal column, damage there destroys the nerves that keep the heart and lungs working, causing instant death rather than paralysis.” He eyed Adam over the rim of his cup. “It’s that whole equal and opposite reaction for something in motion: an engineering application to medicine.”

“Ouch!” Adam replied with a recurrence of his earlier shiver.

“The nose might break and there’d be bruising around the eyes when the sudden impact brought his head forward again, but Jeb’s chin and neck are fine.”

“So … how do you explain what happened?”

“It was still dark and that alley is shadowed anyway, so I probably missed the clue I need. Let’s go look for a rock or raised area that could account for his nose hitting first when he tumbled.”

“Anything else bothering you about this?”

“Jeb was an awful human being: mean to most and meaner to his wife. I can’t say I ever saw a kindness from him toward man, child or beast, but it’s not up to me to say good riddance and sweep a possible murder under the rug.”

Adam drained his cup and set it on the sink. “I’m not looking forward to this; but lets start with a look at Jeb as you go through what you just told me. Then we’ll move to the scene. I really hope every person in town hasn’t walked through there to see where it happened.”

Paul shook his head. “Roy had Mick block the alley, and stand watch until we get there.”

Four

After walking both outer edges of the alley section behind the Watering Hole, Adam motioned for Paul to join him, and pointed to the footprints most visible in the frozen muck of the street. “Which direction was Jeb oriented?”

Paul pointed towards the far end. “Head was that way, feet just about where we’re standing.”

“If he fell forward, it would mean he was walking away from town.” Adam walked slowly in the direction Jeb would have come from, stopping at intervals to squat and look more closely. “This is odd,” he finally revealed.

“How so?”

“Roy implied Jeb was probably heading home after drinking somewhere all night. But his orientation implies he was going the opposite direction when he fell. His house is behind us.”

Paul’s eyes widened. “Huh! That didn’t occur to me. What else bothers you. Your deep squint tells me there’s more.”

“It rained yesterday, and the puddles smoothed out the dirt back here, giving us a blank slate. And with freezing last night, everything is preserved well. You estimated he wasn’t out here for more than an hour when he was found?”

Paul nodded. “How does that fit in?”

“I see no foot traffic in this alley after that rain other than those who checked on Jeb. That seems to confirm what Roy said about the town being quiet by the afternoon. Even Salvador closed his saloon early.”

Paul’s mouth hung open slightly. “I’ve heard stories of you and your brothers being excellent trackers but never saw you in action.” He took a good look at the ground and shook his head. “I see several prints here. How can you tell they were made just by us?”

“You’re wearing high-top dress shoes with a round toe and broad, flat heel.” Still squatting, Adam pointed to a set belonging to Paul. “I see where you entered the alley and walked around Jeb and eventually left. Salvador was still here when we arrived now, so I took a quick look at his boots along with the ones Mick was wearing. They both had pointed toes with a smaller, square heel: boots designed to help hold your foot in the stirrup. I see two sets corresponding to those, and before you ask how I know there were just two; each set has a distinctive mark. I’d have to examine the soles to know which is which, but these prints all belong to the same two people. The only other ones belong to Roy who was wearing a slipper and his shoe, while using those crutches, and another smaller set that must be Emma’s. Today is above freezing again, but the sun hasn’t reached this alley, so all sets are encased in the frost.”

“That’s amazing! So … what’s bothering you?”

A deep chuckle rippled up from Adam’s chest. “Paul … there’s one very important set of prints missing. I checked Jeb’s boots when we were in your shed. They’re old and the soles had deep cracks. Those would be as distinctive as Roy’s mismatched ones. But there’s not a single set of his prints in this alley. I don’t think Jeb could fly, so how did he get here? If he was laying out here before the rain and didn’t die until early this morning, his clothes would have been wet. Were they?””

“No. And I can add something else that’s missing,” Paul offered.

Adam’s stood and eyed Paul expectantly. “What’s that?”

“Two things. We spoke about how he’d have had to hit his nose first to cause that injury. There are no rocks or mounds of dirt here. And with as bloody as his clothes were, there should be blood on the ground. There’s none!”

“Well done, Inspector Martin,” Adam said with a small bow and sweep of his hand.

“He was undoubtedly moved here after he was already dead. That implies another person involved, and this is no longer an unfortunate accident.” Paul’s tone was indicative of his disappointment with the situation taking an ugly turn.

“You are correct! But I see something now that I didn’t when I thought Jeb walked here.”

As the two men did another careful observation of the area, Adam considered an alternative to Jeb being disposed of by a murderer. Before he could address this with Paul, a young man, hat-in-hand, approached from the intersection leading from the main street. “Hey, Doc,” he said in a nearly reverent voice. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Jonah,” Paul said. “Is there a problem with your son’s arm?”

“He’s been whimpering all morning, doc, and says it hurts something awful. I know it’s Christmas, and Mick said something bad happened back here, and only let me disturb you when I told him Charlie was crying. I know he’s not pretending because he didn’t even want to open his presents!”

Adam offered a kindly smile. “That’s a sure indication he needs a visit from the fine doctor.”

Paul nodded, “Let me have a few words with Adam, and I’ll be there, Jonah. I’ve got a good idea what’s bothering him, and he’ll be fine.”

After Jonah left, Adam said, “You may not know footprints, but you’re a good medical detective. What’s wrong with Jonah’s boy?”

“He fell forward off their porch yesterday.” Paul stopped to smile. “Seems like falling forward is the accident of choice this Christmas. But Charlie reached out to break his landing with his left arm. I didn’t feel any bone separation to indicate a fracture and felt it was badly sprained. Since he’s still in pain, I’m leaning towards a type of fracture common in kids. His bones still have a little spring and can often twist without breaking. In this case, landing with his arm beneath him must have caused a snap in his radius or ulna, but it didn’t go all the way through the bone so I couldn’t feel anything amiss. Liken it to trying to break off a fresh twig. It bends and the interior will break but the twig stays in one piece. I gave him a sling, and said to keep his arm still, but being a kid, he’s surely been moving it. That’s irritating the tissue around the break. I’ll put a plaster on this time to immobilize it for a week or two and he’ll feel better fast.” His smile turned to a wistful frown. “I’ll miss watching you figure out what actually happened to Jeb. Do you have any ideas?”

“I do, but I won’t say anything until I’m sure. Come to the jail when you finish with Charlie. There might be an answer by then.”

***

Alone in the alley, Adam quickly followed up on his idea of how Jeb got there, and where he’d come from.

Mingled in with shoeprints after Jeb had been found, was a set that couldn’t be explained by Roy’s narrative. He’d mentioned Jeb’s wife Emma showing up while they’d been working on him, but that she’d stood off to the side until escorted back home. He could account for those: a set of short, square-toed, heavy soled shoes that entered from the corner and stuck to the edge of the passageway and left next to a set of the pointed boots he could now attribute to Mick.

But as he squatted where Jeb’s body had been; he saw another set of Emma’s small prints peaking out from beneath those of the deputy, Paul, Salvador and Roy. He could now see where a solo set of Emma’s prints left the alley and returned to the Metzer home, but there was no corresponding first set coming into it other than two at Jeb’s head. His question of how Jeb got into the alley without walking, now had an answer that tore at his heart.

Emma was not a large woman, but she was a little taller than her husband, and from what Adam knew of her situation, she was an active woman who cleaned homes and did all the chores at her place. She was undoubtedly in far better physical condition than her husband who bore all the signs of failing health due to low-quality alcohol. His complexion was gray, mottled with a yellowish tinge, and the whites of his eyes were already bile tinted. He also bore the skeletal appearance of a hard drinker who got nourishment from a bottle of fermented mash and walked only between saloons.

The thought taking shape relied on that difference in Emma and Jeb’s size and abilities. A grimace of confirmation accompanied a deep sigh as he spotted that Emma’s prints at Jeb’s head, showed the deeper indent at the toe, with a roll back to the heel. She had been walking backwards. Those two sets indicated where she’d stopped, and he found a few partial prints then at the side where the soil bore marks of where Emma had rolled Jeb’s body from whatever she’d used to pull him to that spot.

Hot on the scent of a truth he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, he spotted the marks left by the edges of that same transport—most likely a tarp or blanket—as well as the deeper indentation in the middle where Jeb’s body was the heaviest. He easily followed this from the alley straight back to the Metzer’s door. The reason there were no prints of Emma’s first foray into the alley was that they’d been obliterated by the weight of the tarp she was dragging backwards.

His exhilaration at having a mystery to solve, suddenly tasted sour in the back of his throat. The alley mystery was solved. The next step would be gathering evidence inside the house and finally taking Emma in for questioning.

***

Emma’s mouth fell into a startled “O” as she answered her door. “Why Adam Cartwright! What a happy surprise visit.”

“It’s not a visit as such, Emma. I’m helping Roy look into the death of your husband. May I offer my condolences to you and your family.” His forehead rose as he admitted, “I honestly don’t know whether you have children. You and Jeb moved here alone.”

She opened the door wide, indicating he should enter. “Cmon’ in and sit by the stove to warm up.”

Adam looked around as he entered the small, tidy one-room home and replied, “Thank you,” while noting a mop and bucket near the door, and a large, dark wet spot on the wooden planks near the table. “It sure smells wonderful in here.” He sniffed the air. “Would that be pumpkin pie I smell?”

“Just from the oven. I’d offer a slice, but it’s still settin’ up.” She smiled briefly as she quickly rolled her sleeves down and buttoned the cuffs. “To answer your question, Jeb and I have a son, but he was grown enough to stay in Missouri when we set out for these parts.”

Perching on the corner of the table, Adam noticed there was only one chair in the place. “Why don’t you sit, Emma. All that’s happened this morning must be weighing heavy on your mind and shoulders. It must have been a shock to go out and find Jeb that way.”

“Not so much as you might think, Adam.” She took the chair near the stove. “He’s been drinking heavy lately. People think he was always a drunk, but it wasn’t always so bad as this.”

“You were married a long time?” he asked.

“Near 30 years, but my folks put me up for marriage when I was barely 13. Jeb was in his 20s and wasn’t happy I was so unaware of worldly things, but said I looked strong enough to help with the farm and birth sons.”

“Did you come here to mine?”

Emma nodded. “Jeb hadn’t done well as a farmer, and we only had enough to buy a place to live. He couldn’t afford a claim, and then saw how tough working the mines was, and decided he’d do odd jobs instead. He’d started drinking back home, but promised things would be better in new surroundings.” She eyed Adam knowingly. “You probably know how such promises go. Not getting a claim added to his previous failures and weighed so heavy he could only shut out the shouting in his head by passing out. He grew to hate anyone he thought was successful.”

“Including you?” he asked. “You run a good cleaning business, and everyone likes you, while they sort of ignored Jeb or laughed behind his back.”

There was no verbal confirmation, but a blush rose into Emma’s cheeks. As he waited to hear whether there’d be an answer, he finished his perusal of the room. The table where he was sitting bore wetness at the corner, corresponding to the floor beneath it. One thing that couldn’t be washed away, was the outline of a thin handle with a hooked end, burned into the floor a few steps back from the table. Looking towards the stove, he spotted a fire poker with the identical shape leaning against the oven door.

When Emma offered nothing more, he asked, “Have you been able to consider what you’ll do now?”

“I’d already been thinking of going back to live with my son. Jeb’s health was surely on the decline. He refused to see a doctor, but I could see he wasn’t well and didn’t have long.”

“You would certainly pick up on that. I am so sorry this happened today of all days. It’s hard to lose a loved one on a holiday and then grieve while others are having happy get-togethers.”

“Oh, Adam …. I can tell you grew up in a happy, lovely family. I’ve heard the stories of how Ben lost his wives and you boys lost your mothers, but your daddy did the best he could by you three. Christmas has never been different than any other day for me, except when there’s a church service to attend. I haven’t gotten a Christmas gift in so many years, I can’t recall the time nor the gift. For me, the reason for Christmas is about a baby who was our Savior, and left us a promise that life on earth is only the stepping stone to a better life. I hold onto that; share whatever kindness I can with the little I have and offer thanks that I keep my eyes above me instead of falling into self-pity or drowning in a bottle.”

“You seem to understand Christmas far better than anyone throwing big parties and giving expensive gifts, Emma. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Another period of silence elapsed before Emma asked, “You said you’ve been looking into Jeb’s death. Have you figured it out?”

“Part of it.”

“Everyone says you’re a smart man, but fair too, and that’s what I’ve always seen. You’re kind as well, and ain’t never walked past me without a smile and asking after me. What do I need to do?”

“I know Jeb didn’t die in the alley, and I can see how you got him out there. What I don’t know is what started it, Emma. You’ll need to accompany me to the sheriff’s office and tell Roy what happened.”

Emma rose and went to her cupboard, grabbing a basket and a clean, folded towel. “Might as well take this pie along so it don’t go to waste. Roy always has a pot of coffee on.” She tucked the pie inside the wicker and covered it before grabbing her heavy shawl from the hook, stuck her arm under the basket’s handle and walked outside.

Adam stopped at the threshold when he noticed a lump of fabric inside a galvanized tub. He removed it carefully and allowed it to drape downward for a closer look. It was a threadbare dress with blood covering the front bodice and skirt. But what stopped his breath were the sleeves. There was blood on them from Jeb, but there were several slits with singed edges, obviously burned into the cloth, where the blood originated on the inside of the dress. The burn marks were fresh since he could still detect the odor of singed fabric. Sticking his head out the door to make sure Emma had continued to move away, he rolled the garment in on itself and tucked it inside his coat.

***

Adam watched the happy smile Roy offered him and Emma as they entered the office, turn to concern.

“You didn’t have to come here,” he addressed Emma. “I would have let you know what we determined.”

“We’ll explain it to you in a minute Roy. But first, Emma’s going to dish out some of her prize-winning pie, and I’ll fill a few mugs with coffee and we’ll toast the holiday before getting to business.”

The trio had just taken their first bite when the door swung open and Paul Martin hurried in. “I got here as quickly as I could.” He looked towards Adam. “I’m assuming you figured something out?”

“Yup, but first, enjoy some pie and coffee. We’re having a little Christmas.”

***

With plates clean, the whole pie consumed and cups refilled, Roy finally locked Adam in a steely glare and said, “Get on with it. I don’t want to be late for Hop Sing’s dinner.”

Adam moved his chair next to Emma and took her hand. “I’ll start with what I discovered, and I believe Emma’s ready to fill in the rest.”

Roy and Paul leaned forward in anticipation.

“After examining the footprints in the alley more closely, I realized his body was pulled to that spot on a tarp.”

“Ya don’t say!” Roy voiced in surprise. “Any idea who did that?”

Adam looked over at Emma, who said, “I did. I’m not sure how Adam figured it out, but I realized he knew as soon as I answered the door and saw him standing there.”

Roy shifted in his chair until he was looking directly at the woman. “You don’t have to say anything more unless you want to, Emma. But if you do, I’ll have to take it to law no matter what it is.”

“It’s all fine, Roy,” she answered in a steady, stronger voice. I still don’t know how Adam figured it, but I’m relieved. I couldn’t have lived with what I did.”

“It was all in the footprints,” Adam explained. “Things didn’t add up until I realized there were two sets of yours, Emma; one of them made before anyone else was there. They showed you’d been backing up, and then I found the drag marks indicating you’d been pulling Jeb from your house on something. I assume he was already dead by then and you hoped others would think he’d tripped and died by the saloon?”

“Is that right?” Roy asked.

Emma nodded. “I’d like to know what else Adam saw that gave me away?”

“The wet floor and table in your house showed they’d been scrubbed recently, but blood is nearly impossible to remove from wood because it’s so porous. Paul said Jeb’s nose injury would have bled profusely. There was no blood in the alley, but your wet floors bore that black stain that won’t disappear even after it dries.” He reached inside his jacket and tugged out the bloody dress, making Emma gasp, and then smile resignedly. “I also found this.”

“No one in this room thinks you’re the murdering type, Emma,” Roy told her reassuringly. “Why don’t you start from the beginning.”

Her head dropped as she folded her hands in her lap. “Jeb didn’t pay attention to December passing and missed that it was Christmas Eve yesterday. He slept all morning like usual, and when he finally went out looking for odd jobs to finance his drinking for last night, the business owners who usually hire him had already finished and were ready to close. Sam at the Bucket of Blood was good enough to give him a few near empty bottles to tide him over, but he got home mad and sullen, finished those leftovers fast and went to bed.”

Roy interrupted her. “Did he harm you when he got home in that mood? Everyone knows he gets mean when he’s mad, and you’d have been the handiest target.”

“Not then. I’m plumb embarrassed that everyone knows what he was like with me.”

“It’s more they suspected it because of his violent nature when drunk,” Paul offered. “Then again; you seem to have just confirmed that he treated you as others suspected. Why you didn’t say anything to someone who might have helped?”

Emma laughed openly. “To what end, Dr. Martin? The pastor would have told me I was wed to him and should pray for him and be a good wife like I vowed. I didn’t have money to get a lawyer, and, Roy, you kept him here overnight when he was at his worst, and I thank you for that. But you did that because you knew what he’d do if you’d have let him go home. There seems to be an understanding among men where they think it’s all right to toss a wife around because she deserves it for not doing enough to keep them happy.”

“You’re right about some of that, Emma. I did hold him on his worst nights, and the most I could have charged him with was disorderly conduct and held him longer if you wouldn’t or couldn’t pay the fine. Assault charges can only be levied if the wife is willing to issue a complaint and follow that through the court. You made some good points as to why a wife might not do that, but they also back down when the man promises he’ll be better to her and not drink so much. I understand that too. They often have children and can’t pay bills or feed the kids if their man is in jail.”

“What you’re being polite enough not to say in front of Adam and the Dr. is that I done that a few times myself, sheriff,” Emma admitted. “Those apologizes always raise just enough hope to give it another go. The goodwill lasts a day or two, but once they know they can get away with this behavior; they get even worse.”

She sighed deeply. “I don’t know what the answer is. But … I’m guessing you three have somewhere to be for Christmas so I’ll finish this. It was quiet with him in bed last evening so I got things organized for today, and then got up real early to bake. Jeb didn’t eat enough to spend money on making a big Christmas feast for us, so I’d accepted an invitation to dinner from Sally Caruthers at the boarding house where I clean. I promised to bring pie. She included Jeb in the invitation, but I figured he be out cold by then and wouldn’t care where I was. What I hadn’t factored was that he wouldn’t stock up for the holiday.

“I worked quietly as I could before the crack of dawn with the lamp up only enough to see what I was doing. But that old bear rose from hibernation and slipped up behind me, and asked what I was doing in a tone of voice I knew meant trouble.”

She stopped to gather her thoughts. “I always made it clear that I wouldn’t stop him from drinking, but I wouldn’t pay for his liquor either. He usually earned enough to keep himself lubricated. He stole coins from my sugar bowl now and then, but after messing up yesterday, he was looking at a full day of sobriety. Instead of blaming himself, he got on me for wasting ‘our’ money on a stupid pumpkin, instead of making sure he had what he needed for his nervous condition.” She snorted. “That’s what he called his boozing. Must have heard someone say that once and thought it sounded good. Funniest part is he had no idea what that meant.

“I reasoned that the price of a pie pumpkin wouldn’t have bought so much as a shot glass of whiskey, and when I said I had nothing extra to give him even if he could find a saloon open today, he got deadly quiet. I went back to what I was doing, not paying attention to what he was up to, and when I turned around a few minutes later, he was lifting the poker from the hot stove burner where he’d been heating it. It was so hot it showed red specks in the darkness.”

“What did he do next?” Roy asked.

“He came at me saying he was gonna give me a Christmas present I’d never forget, and started swinging the poker at my face. I put my arms up to shield myself, and ….” She went quiet.

“Please, roll your sleeves up, Emma,” Adam said softly.

None of the men spoke once her sleeves were unbuttoned and pushed up far enough to expose the raw, seeping burns on her arms made by the hooked end of the poker. Adam held the bloody dress up again to show the corresponding burns in the fabric of the sleeves.  “Jeb hurt you bad, didn’t he, and not just today.”

“He’d use a switch or his belt and whip me towards the wall. Then he’d take great pleasure when I’d have to get on my hands and knees trying to crawl around him. There’s no looking glass at our place big enough to see all the bruises, but I felt every last one. I taught myself to tuck the pain away.”

Paul shook off his shock and made a closer inspection of the wounds. “You’ll come with me when we’re done here.”

“I don’t have money for doctoring,” she answered, looking down at her rough, leather work boots.

“That’s not your worry today,” Paul said firmly.

Roy shifted in his chair. “I’m gonna ask you outright how Jeb died, Emma. I got a pretty good idea you were defending yourself, but I need to hear the full truth.”

After rolling her sleeves back into place, she sat straight. “I backed away from him after the first few hits, screaming at him to stop. He did for a minute and then raised that poker again. I was so afraid, I didn’t even know that I’d been holding something in my hand and just threw it at him with all my might. It hit his forehead.”

Paul held up his hand. “You’re saying it hit high on his face, not directly on his nose? And this was enough to kill him?”

“It hit his forehead, and I didn’t say it killed him!  Surprised him is more like it. He dropped that poker to the floor where it burned an imprint because it was still so hot. He had murder in his eyes when he raised his arms with his hands outstretched and I knew he’d strangle me to death.  But when he lunged ahead, he tripped on that poker and fell face-first onto the edge of the table.” Emma began shaking violently. “He groaned and dropped. Blood was pouring from where his nose had been and he went quiet.” Another shiver wracked her body. “I ain’t never witnessed nothing like that in my life. I couldn’t even look at him and didn’t know what to do. Figured everyone would think I did him in, so rolled him onto my wood tarp and pulled him to the alley, hoping someone would find him soon. Then I went home, cleaned up the mess and finished what I’d been doing before it happened. It was like I was in a dream: floating above and looking down. Nothing seemed real.”

Roy looked towards Paul. “I’m guessing there’s some medical reason she felt like that?”

“Shock is the term. She’d never fought back before and the one time she did, he died. I’d say she has no fault in his death. He died as a result of blind rage and clumsiness rather than anything Emma did.”

“I saw the burn on the floor from where that poker dropped, and it lined up exactly with Emma’s description of him falling forward onto the table,” Adam offered quickly.

Roy finally leaned forward onto his desk. “I’ve got one of the best trackers and observer in these parts who saw evidence to back your story, Emma. And Doc Martin said from the start that the damage to Jeb’s face had to be made by a powerful thrust.”

“So, you believe me?” Emma asked as her shaking eased. “All of it, even the part about being like in a dream when I took him out of the house?”

Roy and the other two men nodded together, while Paul offered a further thought. “I’d say some of what you experienced in that state was a euphoria from being released from years of being abused. You’re a decent woman who would never have fought back to the point of causing Jeb’s death. Yet there he was, dead in a horrific accident. I’d go so far as to maintain that whatever you threw, had no impact except to make him angrier.”

“Am I free then?” Emma asked tentatively.

“I need us all to come back tomorrow and go through each step. But for now, the only charge I might have to bring is for moving the body. Yet no judge, when given the evidence, will impose a sentence.”

“What can we do to help right now?” Adam asked. “I doubt you want to go back to your house tonight.”

“I’ll have dinner with Sally like I planned, and she’ll let me stay there until I figure things out. If there ain’t any law business holding me here, I’ll move by my son come spring. That’ll give me time to set aside enough for the fare.”

“No need to worry about that.” Adam said as he gave Roy a quieting glance over the small woman’s head. “The town offers a stipend to those who need a little help in a situation like yours.”

Roy shook his head and gave Adam a half-grin. “There’s one thing I need to finish my notes for today,” he said to Emma. “What was in your hand that you threw?”

“I’d be interested in knowing that too,” Adam agreed. “I saw nothing at the house that would be palm-sized and carry enough heft to stun Jeb. Did you get rid of it?”

Emma’s laugh was quiet, as her cheeks reddened. “I guess you could say that.”

“What did you do with it?” Roy’s tone took an edge as he considered whether she had offered some less than truthful facts about her part in Jeb’s demise.

“Remember how I said I felt foggy-like. I did things like cleaning up, without even thinking about how Jeb was dead and out in the street where I put him.” She stopped for a long breath. “Once that was done, I went back to what I’d been doing before Jeb woke up. I’d cooked the pumpkin yesterday, but that pie is always best fresh, so I mixed the flour, salt and lard for the crust last night too and set both things by the window to stay cool overnight. It got cold enough that the lard in my ball of crust hardened into a rock. I was holding it, hoping the warmth of my hands would soften it enough to work it when Jeb came at me. After he got those first licks in with the hot poker, and was coming in again, I threw it at him, like David slinging a stone at Goliath. I made things worse by laughing, because it bounced off his head right into a wooden bowl sitting on the cupboard where I’d intended to put it anyway.”

She looked up, making eye contact with each man listening. “When you asked if I’d gotten rid of the ‘weapon’ I used, I guess I did, because after coming back from the alley and cleaning up; the dough had softened up enough to I roll it out and I made the pies. It don’t exist anymore, because you three gentlemen just ate it.”

Roy was the first to understand the implication, and the humor in the situation. His chuckle became a laugh. “Maybe I’ll leave that part out of my report. The circuit judge doesn’t need to know that I and my detectives ate our material evidence.”

***

While Roy went through his notes with Emma regarding her statement, Paul went home for his bag and returned to bandage her burns. As they finished, the door opened and Clem entered, wishing them all a Merry Christmas along with his thanks that the weather had offered him an easy ride back.

Leaving Roy to apprise his deputy of the solved case, Paul headed out with the intention of alerting the undertaker that he could retrieve Jeb’s body before going home to gather his overnight bag and retrieve his buggy for the trip to the Ponderosa.

When Emma spoke up about not having money for a pine box or funeral, Adam quickly asserted that the town would take care of those items as well, before escorting her home to get her things and intending to drop her at the boarding house before meeting back with the contingent heading to the Ponderosa.

“What do I tell people about Jeb’s dying?” she asked Adam as they walked the back streets.

“There’ll be rumors and gossip for sure, but hold your head up and say that Jeb fell and cracked his head. Those of us who know the truth will stand up for you should we hear talk, and as my father always says; this will only be news until something new happens.”

The low-wicked lamp still burned inside the house that smelled of cinnamon, cloves and the warm sweetness of pumpkin, leaving Adam thankful there was no accident scene to clean up before he could head home. He and Roy intended to spend a few minutes later this evening writing up the initial report, but that would be the end of his part in the case. Emma was innocent of any criminal act other than not knowing what to do after the accident happened. Thoughts of the wounds on her arms made him grimace as he thought about all the times this woman had endured the indignity and pain of her husband’s ill temper. The frown deepened as he wondered how many other women faced the same disturbing situations behind the doors of their homes.

“Lucky I baked a second pie,” Emma told him as she placed the one cooling by the window in the same basket she’d taken to the jail. After gathering her comb and brush and discretely pulling a fresh set of bloomers and petticoat from a dresser drawer, she looked around and blushed deeply. “I didn’t have but two dresses: the one that got ruined and the one I’m wearing, so I guess I got all I need to take along.”

“Just so you know, Emma. That stipend I mentioned will cover some new clothes and personal things.”

She grinned up at the tall man next to her. “Aren’t you the sweetest thing, Adam Cartwright. I know there’s no stipend to cover anything more than a pine box and a hole dug in the cemetery. And it sure don’t cover my ticket to Colorado or new clothes. It’s from you. I don’t usually accept charity because I know there’s others worse off’n me who need it more.”

“It’s not charity, Emma,” Adam told her as he perched again on the corner of her table to see her better. “This is a Christmas gift. I’m going to give you some good advice to go with my gift. If you follow it, you may not need the entire amount, and I’ll ask you to pass what’s left on to someone else.”

“What advice is that?”

“This house is going to be feel empty, even if Jeb hadn’t been a good companion for some years. After the holidays—if you agree—we’ll go see Arnie at the hardware store up the block. He’s mentioned a few times that he needs more storage, and your house would be perfect for that. He’ll offer a fair price, and if you keep working, you can rent a room at the boarding house and tuck your house money away for the trip. Living with Sally will help you remember what it’s like to have someone care about you.”

“That does sound good. Despite all I went through with Jeb; walking in here and knowing he isn’t coming back, sort of staggered me. It might be nice having people around for a while.”

Five

The trio of doctor, sheriff and rancher made it to the Ponderosa in time to enjoy a toast to Christmas and open a few more gifts before being called to the table. Talk at the feast was limited to general topics after Ben’s order that Jeb’s death not be discussed until later.

But once they were finished and seated around the fire with brandy-laced coffee and a second piece of the yule log Hop Sing had made, Joe brought up the subject of Adam’s earlier call to service.

The three had spoken about this on their ride out, and decided to divulge the full story so his family could defend Emma’s name if they heard it being maligned. The only other thing the trio had agreed to withhold was the extent of Jeb’s disfigurement.

When Roy finally divulged what Emma had thrown to stop her husband in his tracks—while being careful not to tell of its disposition—Hoss and Joe started to laugh.

“What’s so danged funny?” Roy asked.

“Did she make a pie with it after that?” Joe asked in a giggle.

Adam nodded, adding only what Emma had told them about the rock of dough falling neatly into a bowl, and not wanting it to go to waste. He wasn’t sure she wouldn’t tell others about this, but assumed she’d be discreet since the other half of it was probably being served right now at the boarding house.

Hoss looked over at his oldest brother, grinned and finally winked. “It ain’t never good to hear that someone’s died, but in this case, you might just say mean old Jeb got his just desserts!”

The unison groan from those gathered around the warm fire preceded a long round of laughter.

“Good one, Hoss,” Adam told his brother with a lingering grin. Then, turning his attention towards his father, he brought up a serious topic that had been on his mind since leaving Emma earlier. “Pa, you’re on the board of the bank, so I’m going to propose something as our Christmas gift to all the women in this area who struggle with husbands and men like Jeb. Emma saw through my generosity in helping her financially, because she knows there is no fund available to women in her circumstance. There should be.”

“Are you suggesting we create a real endowment?” Ben asked.

“Exactly, Pa. I’ll put a good amount in to get things started. Roy can make it known to such women when the situations arise, and we can tell the pastors about it too, but with money involved, it needs to be overseen by a financial entity. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but we can see Mr. Weems at the bank soon and figure out how best to approach it.”

Roy adjusted his sore foot on the pillow atop the low table in front of the settee, before issuing a low, humorless chuckle. “I’m not sure that will pan out, Adam,” he offered. “Some of the pillars of our community are just as mean to their wives as Jeb was, and will resent such a fund.”

“That’s true. I’ve seen the bruises,” Paul offered. “But once the fund is established, those men couldn’t badmouth it without tipping their hand as to what they do behind closed doors. I’m not sure money is enough to get women to walk away, but if just one uses it and the man faces trial for assault, other men will be put on notice. I’m with Adam, and will generously help fund it.”

“That settles it.” Ben decreed, using his fist as a gavel on the arm of his chair. “We’ll set up a meeting, and solicit a few other sponsors.”

***

With the evening slipped away to midnight and the next sunrise promising a return to work and chores; the Cartwright and their guests bid each other goodnight.

As the house quieted; Ben slipped from his bedroom and knocked quietly at Adam’s door.

With his son’s permission to enter, he slipped inside, saying, “I knew you’d be awake,” as he moved forward to sit on bed where Adam was stretched out, looking through the book of poems from Joe.

“How’d you know that?” Adam asked, even as his lopsided grin indicated he understood how well his father knew his habits and nature.

“You had a very good Christmas. I was thinking back to what Joe said about not knowing what to get you, and realized you received the most amazing gift today. Roy’s request for help gave you a chance to use your innate talents to help solve the puzzle and exonerate Emma from any wrongdoing, and in that you exposed a dire situation for many women. Then, you were able to offer a gift to help set her towards a better life and think towards doing the same for others. It’s your nature to find more joy in giving than receiving, and I’m proud of what you accomplished in a few hours.”

Adam winked at his father. “Thank you for those kind words, but I do like getting regular presents too. This book was great, and your gift of those symphony tickets to use during our trip to San Francisco come spring are truly unexpected and thoughtful! Emma said I’d been given the gift of a good father and family, which will make me always view holidays with happy memories. She was right. You’ve always given our family wonderful Christmases, Pa. And at the risk of sounding too sentimental; You’re the gift I’m most thankful for.”

Adam’s admission caused Ben to blush as he rose. “I’ll ride into town with you tomorrow when you go with Roy and Paul to finish your statements. I’ll see Weems at the bank while you do that, and they we’ll take Emma to Rebecca’s dress shop to replace her ruined dress, at least to start, and then go with her to the undertaker to arrange Jeb’s burial. Emma is not used to asking for or receiving help, so we’ll have to ease her through this until she’s fully on her feet.”

He paused and turned again before leaving the room. “You were my first gift and blessing as a father, and that has never changed. Merry Christmas, Son.”

The End