Cartwright Romance #6 – Annie, My Love (by Emmy)

Story Summary:  Hoss and Annie Cartwright learn more about themselves, each other and their community.
Rating and Reader Alerts:  PG, mild language
Words:  21,925

Cartwright Romance Series

Truth Be Told
Second Sight
Heart and Home
Journey
Katherine, My Love
Annie, My Love
Jenny, My Love

 


The Brandsters have included this story by this author in our project: Preserving Their Legacy. To preserve the legacy of the author, we have decided to give their work a home in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library.  The author will always be the owner of this work of fanfiction, and should they wish us to remove their story, we will.


Annie, My Love

Chapter 1
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“Hoss!” Annie Cartwright called up from the bottom of the stairs.  “Hoss, breakfast is ready!”

“I’ll be right down, Annie,” her husband called back to her as Annie turned back towards the dining room table, lifting her apron to wipe her hands as she moved.

Annie Cartwright was busy this weekday morning.  But then she usually was busy so today was no different.  Although they had Hop Sing to help with the cooking and housework in the big ranch house, Annie liked to do her share of things, and not just oversee the work.  This was her family, after all, and for Annie nothing pleased her more than to take care of her family.  She’d been without a family for so long, since she was ten and her parents had died, that to have folks to call kin again was a very special privilege, one that she didn’t take lightly. 

Moving back to the table, Annie sat down next to her year old son Buck, already strapped into his high wooden chair awaiting his morning meal.  Annie had given him a few spoons to play with while he waited and Buck was babbling happily as he pounded away on the tray before him, a spoon fisted into each hand.

Coming down the stairs, Hoss inhaled appreciatively as he moved across the room to take his place at the table across from Annie and Buck.  “Sure smells good, Annie,” he said, reaching out to the plate of hotcakes in the center of the table.  Extending her hand, Annie lightly tapped her husband’s hand away.

“Wait fer yer Pa, Hoss,” she admonished gently.

“Sorry, Annie,” Hoss apologized sheepishly.  Annie’s cooking was so good he almost forgot his manners.  Turning his head towards the staircase, Hoss bellowed, “Hey, Pa!  Breakfast is ready!” hoping his father would hurry up.  He wanted those hotcakes while they were HOT.

“Hoss!” Annie met her husband’s eyes to reprimand him for his outburst.

“Sorry, Annie,” Hoss apologized again, less sheepishly this time, as he hid a secret smile.  Annie often scolded him like this but her words and manner never had the desired effect she wanted, since Hoss knew better than to go by what she said.  It was all because of her eyes.  Annie had the most readable eyes of any woman Hoss had ever met.  Well, readable by him anyway.  So her words might scold him but her eyes told him something else and today, like most always, they were soft and filled with love.  Watching as Annie lifted the lid from a small bowl of oatmeal and began to feed their son, Hoss complained, “Hey, how come Buck gets to eat afore me?”

“Hoss!” Annie reprimanded for the third time.

Holding up his hand as Annie was about to say more, Hoss sighed, “I know, I know.  I’m sorry, Annie,” repeating his apology for the third time as chuckling a little Annie continued to feed her son, expertly delivering a spoonful of creamy oatmeal and then running the spoon across his mouth to mop up the excess.

“What’re you up to terday, Hoss?” Annie enquired after her husband’s planned activities for the day as she continued shovelling spoonfuls of oatmeal into Buck’s mouth.  Hoss watched in amusement as Buck continued to bang his tray with the spoons in his hands as his mother fed him, the child pausing now and again to absently open his mouth to accept the spoonful of offered food before continuing with his impromptu performance.

“Pa wants to ride on up to the mesa terday and check on that cattle up thar.  Make sure they ain’t overgrazing the land,” Hoss informed her as Annie nodded in understanding, just as Ben Cartwright came down the stairs.

“Good morning Hoss, Annie,” Ben greeted cheerily as he moved around the table.  Stopping behind his grandson, Ben laid his hand over the silky sandy-coloured hair atop the child’s head as Buck paused to tilt his head backwards to look up at the touch.  “Good morning Buck,” Ben affectionately said, leaning over to look down and meet Buck’s eyes as the child laughed in reply, flashing his six-toothed smile.  As Ben moved into his spot at the table, the child resumed his spoon-banging activity.  Quickly reaching out, Annie snatched the spoons from his hands, wanting her father-in-law to enjoy his breakfast without the distraction of her son’s actions.  As Buck let out a wail of displeasure at the loss of his source of amusement, Annie quickly handed him a small piece of her buttered toast.  His attention now focussed on the interesting object as he turned it over in his hand, Buck finally raised the morsel to his mouth to gnaw it gently, as the adults began to partake of the hotcakes and maple syrup.

“My, that sure was tasty, Annie,” Ben complimented near the end of the meal. 

“Sure is,” agreed Hoss, reaching out to fork another cake from the almost empty plate, as Annie suppressed a small smile of satisfaction.  It felt good to know her efforts were appreciated and that she was sending her menfolk out for their day’s labour with a bellyful of good homecooking.

A scant few minutes later, Ben wiped his mouth with his napkin.  “Well, we’d better get going, Hoss.  It’s a long ride up to the mesa,” he said, dropping the napkin onto the table as he stood.

“I’ll be right with ya, Pa,” Hoss answered, finishing up the last morsels of food from his plate as Ben headed over to the door to strap on his gunbelt.  Seeing that the men were just about to leave for the day, Annie quickly reached out to wipe her napkin across Buck’s face and then over his sticky fingers.  Discarding the napkin onto the table as she stood, she unstrapped Buck from his chair and reached her hands under his arms to lift him, just as Hoss got up from his place to follow behind his father.  The child propped on her hip, Annie turned to head towards the door.

“Thanks again for breakfast, Annie,” Ben said as he put on his hat. 

“Oh, yer welcome,” Annie replied as Ben pulled open the door.  Speaking words of parting, Ben left the house, leaving the door open behind him.  Annie watched silently as Hoss strapped on his gun and settled his hat on his head.  The tasks completed, Hoss moved closer to his wife and child, suddenly reaching out to crook his arm around the pair, drawing them roughly to him.

“Hoss!” Annie exclaimed mildly, just as Hoss lowered his head to deliver a quick kiss to his wife.  Her husband pulling back at the end of the kiss, Annie admonished, “Hoss, yer Pa is waiting!”

“Let him wait, Annie,” Hoss grumbled back to her, not about to be rushed from his pleasant diversion. 

“Hoss!” Annie exclaimed again, mildly shocked.

“You know, you taste like hotcakes and maple syrup, Annie,” Hoss observed teasingly, savouring the feel of his wife’s body still pressed close to his.  God, she felt good.  Warm and soft and pleasingly rounded in all the right places. 

“Hoss!” Annie laughed lightly just as her husband leaned in to taste her again. 

Pulling back at the end of the kiss, Hoss turned to his son.  “Let me hold Buck fer a minute, will ya Annie?” he said, reaching his hands towards the child. 

Leaning the child towards Hoss as she relinquished her hold, Annie warned, “Well, alright, Hoss, but mind that he’s just had his breakfast,” as Hoss nodded his head in understanding of the consequences of any over-zealous jostling.  Enveloping the child in his arms, Hoss leaned close, inhaling deeply the clean fresh baby smell.  Dropping his head into the crook of the child’s neck he pressed his lips to his skin, blowing until the air vibrated noisily as Buck laughed delightedly at the ticklish sensation.  Pulling back, Hoss met the child’s eyes as together they laughed at the silliness.  Moving close again, he pressed a kiss to the child’s cheek before leaning him back towards Annie. 

“Now you be a good boy for your mama,” Hoss admonished tenderly as Annie reached out to lift the child back into her arms.

“Goodbye, Hoss,” Annie breathed to her husband.

Delivering a final bear-hug encompassing both wife and child, Hoss echoed, “Goodbye, Annie,” as he turned and headed out the door.  Watching for a moment from the open door as her husband walked towards the barn, his hands crammed into his pockets, Annie sighed contentedly. 

Life didn’t get any better than this, she thought.  It just didn’t get any better than this.
Chapter 2
********
Annie and Jenny Cartwright were standing inside the general store, Jenny looking at some garden seeds while Annie scoured over the bolts of material, when Hallie Schandrock entered the store.  Immediately identifying the Cartwright women, Hallie felt a jolt of jealousy course through her.  She might be just a saloon girl but it wasn’t too long ago that she herself had hoped to snare a Cartwright mate.  In fact, there were a lot of other disgruntled women in town now that the three most eligible bachelors in the territory were all spoken for.

Not being able to help it, Hallie sidled closer to the youngest one.  The one with the beautiful blond hair and petite figure.  Her jaded eye travelling the length of her as she stood next to the seed rack, Hallie felt even more disgruntled.  Oh, she was a fetching one, that one.  A real beauty.  Their weren’t many women who possessed such fine features and such flawless skin.  And her colouring.  All that rich blond hair and those peculiar blue-violet eyes.  Yes, she’d surely have a lot of men after her if that young Joe Cartwright hadn’t snatched her up already, Hallie thought, her jealousy sharpened.  Not that any man would try anything now that she belonged to Joe Cartwright.  That was one thing about being a Cartwright woman.  The other men knew well enough to leave you alone or risk serious repercussions.  The Cartwrights were the richest family in the territory and that made them the most powerful.  Yes, the other men knew to keep their distance.

“Annie, I’ll wait for you outside,” young Jenny Cartwright called to her sister-in-law as turning from the seed rack she headed towards the door.  Impulsively, Hallie Schandrock followed behind her.  Coming up behind her as she stood on the front stoop of the store, Hallie approached her.

“‘Why, if it isn’t Mrs. Joe Cartwright,” Hallie greeted her, false pleasantness in her voice.

Turning to the woman, Jenny eyed the stranger, before enquiring politiely, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Well, we ain’t been formally introduced but you could say we have a lot in common,” the woman replied, her voice dripping with sweetness.

“Oh?” Jenny was puzzled by the woman’s words.  “What’s that?”

“Why, your husband, of course,” the woman explained patiently.

“My husband?” Jenny arched her brow in surprise.

“Well, of course, I ain’t seen much of him lately but I expect it won’t be long before he comes to visit,” the woman answered slyly.

“I beg your pardon?” Jenny was struggling to understand.

“Yes,” the woman sighed as her eyes purposely swept Jenny’s body with a false look of disdain, “it won’t be long.  Frankly, I don’t know as how he’s been satisified with you for this long.  Seems like he’d be wanting the company a real woman by now.”

Sucking in her breath sharply as the full import of the woman’s words became clear to her, Jenny’s face took on several shades of pink at the insult.  Why, the woman was saying she wasn’t…she wasn’t….Jenny shook her head, words of icy retaliation coming to her lips.

Seeing Mrs. Cartwright’s outrage, Hallie held up her hand to stall her.  “Well, it’s been delightful talking to you.  I’d better go now,” she added, turning swiftly on her heel, a smirk of satisfaction on her face.

Frozen in shock, Jenny stared after the woman.  Who was she?  And why had she said those things? Jenny wondered.  Why had the woman looked her up and down like that?  Was there something wrong with the way she looked?  Looking down at her small frame a second, Jenny looked back up at the figure receding in the distance, a decidedly fuller figure than her own.

“Well, I hope Hoss likes this new shirt material I bought,” Annie Cartwright commented, coming up alongside her sister-in-law outside the store.  Noting Jenny’s fixation on something in the distance, Annie asked, “Jenny, is something wrong?”

Pulled from her reverie by her sister-in-law’s question, Jenny answered carefully, “No, nothing’s wrong, Annie.”

“Well, we’d better get going,” Annie prompted, nudging Jenny’s arm.

“Annie?” Jenny asked.  “Annie, who’s that woman over there?”

“Over where, Jenny?” Annie asked, following Jenny’s gaze across the street.

“The one there just walking past the bank,” Jenny identified the woman.

Squinting her eyes at the woman in question, Annie answered, “That’s Hallie Schandrock.  She works in the saloon.  Why’d you want to know, Jenny?”

“Oh, no reason,” Jenny answered evasively, pulling her eyes away from the woman and turning back towards the buggy.  “We’d better get going,” she reaffirmed Annie’s earlier remark.
Chapter 3
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“Hey, Adam! Katherine!” Hoss greeted the pair from his rigid stance by the fireplace as they entered the Ponderosa ranch house, Katherine carrying 2-month old Fallon in her arms and Adam holding the hand of 3 1/2-year old Beth.

Chuckling at the sight before him, Adam commented, “Well, it looks like you’re kind of busy right now, Hoss, maybe this isn’t a good time to go over those cattle counts with you.”

“Ah, ah…,” Hoss hesitated awkwardly as Annie continued fitting a shirt to his large frame.

“I’ll be done with Hoss in jist a few minutes, Adam,” Annie mumbled past the pins she held in her mouth.  “Come on in and set yerself down,” she invited the group as she turned her attention back to her task, pinning the material together over Hoss’s upper body.

“That’s a nice shirt, Annie,” Katherine complimented her sister-in-law’s handiwork as she settled onto the settee, her sleeping child in her arms.

“And such a nice colour too,” Adam couldn’t resist teasing, settling Beth onto the settee next to her mother before turning to survey his brother.  “Why it brings out the blue in your eyes, Hoss,” Adam noted teasingly.

“Ah, ah…,” Hoss faltered at Adam’s reference to the shirt’s colour.  It was a pale blue, a baby blue some might call it.  It wasn’t so much he minded the colour, but this was the fourth shirt Annie’d made him that was this colour and he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever get to wear anything BUT blue.  “Annie likes this colour, Adam.  Dontcha Annie?” Hoss asked, turning to her, seeking to explain the shirt’s colour both for Adam and himself.

“Hoss!” Annie reprimanded.  “Now you know the only reason I’m making you shirts this colour is cuz it’s yer favourite,” she informed him, mindful that Katherine had told her once a long time ago, before she and Hoss had married, that this shade of blue was Hoss’s favourite.  Why, she’d even taken and worn a party dress this exact colour that Katherine had offered her just for that very reason.

“Huh?” Hoss asked in surprise.  “I didn’t know I had a favourite colour,” he told her innocently.

“You didn’t know you…..,” Annie repeated, trailing off just as she pinned the last pin, a sudden understanding dawning as she turned to her sister-in-law.

Suddenly sensing the direction things were taking as Annie cast her furious eyes upon her, Katherine quickly looked over to Adam. “Adam, maybe now’s not a good time to discuss the cattle.  Why don’t we come back later,” she suggested nervously, rising from the settee and reaching her hand out to Beth.

“Huh?” Adam asked, startled by his wife’s unexpected suggestion.

“KATHERINE CARTWRIGHT!” Annie shouted from her place by the fireplace, her tone accusing.

“Now, Annie,” Katherine hemmed nervously.  “It was the only way I could think to get you to take the dress and come to the party,” Katherine tried to explain her deceit.  “Besides,” she countered, “it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” her expression hopeful.

“But…but…,” Annie sputtered, still outraged at her sister-in-law’s subterfuge as Adam sidled up next to Hoss.

“What are they talking about, Hoss?” he leaned in to ask in a whisper as the two women continued their exchange, Annie accusing and Katherine placating.

“I got no idea, Adam,” Hoss whispered back, eyeing the women in confusion.  “But I think it’s got something to do with why I got all these danged blue shirts.” 

Raising her hands in exasperation, Annie shouted at her sister-in-law, “AND JUST WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THE FIFTEEN YARDS OF MATERIAL I STILL GOT LEFT?!?” 

“But Annie…,” Katherine pleaded. 

“Don’t you ‘but Annie’ me, Katherine Cartwright!” Annie yelled, crossing her arms with displeasure.  Really!  Telling her Hoss’s favourite colour was blue just so’s she’d wear that blue dress and go to the party with him.  Like she’d deliberately set out to fix them up or something.  Begrudgingly, Annie had to admit it had worked too.  She’d gone to that party, even told Hoss about her dream of a cabin by the lake that night and she’d felt a real connection with him.  And now they were married, she sighed in acknowledgement, so maybe what Katherine had done hadn’t been so bad after all.

A silence fell over the group as Annie ceased her accusations and Katherine waited nervously for the next outburst.  Suddenly struck by the humour of the situation, Annie let out a sound somewhat like a cross between a giggle and a snort.  The giggle-snort turning into something akin to laughter, Katherine looked at her sister-in-law and smiled.

“It is kind of funny, isn’t it, Annie?” she asked.  “You making him all those blue shirts,” she teased.

Her laughter increasing, Annie nodded as she offered, “Maybe…maybe you could take the material and make a few dresses for Beth.  There should be enough there for…I don’t know…,” she paused, pretending to do a mental calculation before announcing, “…about TWENTY dresses or so!” as both women succumbed to peels of laughter, sharing their private joke.

Staring at their wives uncomprehendingly, Hoss and Adam shook their heads.

“Do you reckon they’re alright, Adam?” Hoss asked uncertainly.

“Hmm,” Adam shook his head. “You never can tell with women,” he observed.  “Maybe we should just leave them be and go on out to the kitchen.”

“Hey, yeah!” Hoss brightened at the suggestion.  “Annie’s got some apple pie out there!” he exclaimed in delight just as Adam moved away.  “Hey, Adam!  Adam, wait!” Hoss called after him, moving to follow on his brother’s heels.  “Can you take these pins out fer me first?” he begged, watching his brother continue on his way.  “I can’t hardly move but one of ’em starts poking me!” Hoss yelled in complaint, as Adam ignored his brother and disappeared around the corner towards the kitchen.  “Dadgumit Adam!” Hoss yelled again, trailing uncomfortably after him.  “Help me ter take these dadburn pins out!”

Watching as Hoss headed off to the kitchen, his arms held stiffly out his sides, Annie and Katherine’s peels of laughter increased as they suddenly realized something entirely new was adding to their merriment.

“I really should go help him take those pins out!” Annie cried, clutching her stomach.

“Naw,” Katherine countered.  “I’m sure Adam’ll help him.  You know what a good brother he is,” Katherine deadpanned before breaking out into even more peels of laughter.

Shaking her head as she laughed, Annie countered, “Now fer sure I REALLY hafta go help him!”  Holding her hand out towards Beth, Annie managed to invite between the laughter, “Come on, let’s go get some pie!” as the child scooted off the settee to take her hand and together they headed towards the kitchen, Katherine chuckling as she followed behind with Fallon amazingly still asleep in her arms.
Chapter 4
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Annie Cartwright absently worked the needle into the cloth before her a week later as she sat in the chair next to the fire, a solitary lamp burning nearby.  She winced as she accidently pricked her finger, the result of a combination of her lack of concentration and the dim light she was working under.  Sighing, she lowered the material to her lap, raising her finger to suck on the wound.  She had started a new shirt for Hoss, a cream colour this time, but she should have known better than try to get any work done while she waited up for him.  Knowing she couldn’t sleep till he got home anyway, she’d tried to make use of the time but he was very late tonight and her fatigure made her clumsy with the needle.  She’d known he would be late and her father-in-law had urged her to go to bed but she’d steadfastly maintained her watch, succeeding instead in convincing Hoss’s father to retire for the night.

Suddenly perking up at the slight horse’s whinny in the distance, Annie rose from the chair, dropping the unfinished shirt onto the low table before her.  Moving to the door, she reached up to the pegboard to lift down her heavy shawl.  Wrapping it around her shoulders, she opened the door, standing on the threshold to peer out into the night.  Pulling the ends of the shawl crossways over her body, she shivered slightly as the chill of the night air reached her.  Making out the shadowy silhouette of a figure emerging from the barn, Annie let out a little sigh of relief.  Hoss was home.  Even though it was too dark to make out his features yet, there was no mistaking his size or his gait.

Walking towards the ranch house after his long day, his hands in his pockets, Hoss smiled a little seeing his wife silhouetted in the door frame.  She often waited up for him when he came home late but he hadn’t expected her to tonight.  It was very late, almost two o’clock in the morning.  So late in fact, he’d almost decided to stay in Placerville for the night after conducting his business there instead of making the long trek home.  Well, he’d thought that for all of ten seconds before realising what he really wanted was to get home to Annie just as soon as he could.

“Annie, what’re ya doing up so late?” Hoss asked as he drew near, just as Annie suddenly flew at him, startling him.  Removing his hands from his pockets just in time, he moved his arms aside as his wife wrapped her arms around his trunk, a corner of shawl clutched in each of her hands so that he was wrapped in her shawl too.

“I’m glad yer home, Hoss,” Annie confessed, holding him tight, as Hoss slid his arms across the back of her shoulders to hug her back.

“I’m glad to be home, Annie.  I missed ya,” Hoss breathed to his wife.

“I missed you too, Hoss,” she answered, breathing in the scent of him.  The warm, earthy smell of horse and man.  Tightening her arms around him, her face pressed sideways into his chest, Annie commanded, “Tighter, Hoss.  Hold me tighter,” as Hoss grinned at her request, not the first time she’d made it.   He was so used to reining in his strength, both with her and others, that it had been a pleasant surprise to find Annie liked his strength, welcomed it.  Complying with her wishes, Hoss tightened his arms about his wife, squeezing her a moment as they both revelled in the sensation before he released the pressure to pull back a little.

“Did you get everything taken care of in Placerville?” Annie asked him, enquiring after the business errand Ben had sent him on as she tilted her head to look up at her husband.

Nodding down at his wife, Hoss answered, “Everything went jist as smooth as silk, Annie.  Pa’ll be real pleased when I tell him all about it.”

“Well, I’m glad of it, Hoss.  Come on in ter the house.  I’ll get ya something to eat,” Annie said, stepping back and turning into the house as Hoss followed behind her.

“Don’t bother, Annie.  It’s late and I’d jist as soon git ter bed,” Hoss declined the offer of food as he closed the door behind them, not really wanting anything to eat but also not wanting Annie to stay up any later tending to him.  It was late and she must be tired.

“Well, if yer shore, Hoss,” Annie said, unwrapping her shawl to lay it on the back of the settee before turning to peer hesitantly at Hoss.  She was tired but she would be happy to fix him something if he was hungry. 

“I’m sure, Annie,” he answered, moving forward and reaching for Annie’s hand.  Turning, he headed to the staircase, pulling Annie along behind him, thinking it was time they both got to bed.  Beginning to climb the stairs, still trailing Annie behind him, he stopped suddenly on the third step as Annie stumbled at the first, her tiredness making her loose her footing.  Descending back down the stairs towards his sleepy wife, Hoss bent, scooping Annie into his arms, as she cried out in surprise, “Hoss!” 

“Now you never mind, Annie,” he grumbled at her cry of protest, turning back to head resolutely up the stairs as Annie reached an arm around his neck.  Giving in to her weariness, Annie sighed as she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder.  She was glad he was home, she thought, closing her eyes both in weariness and contentment as she yawned softly.

Yes, she was glad he was home.
Chapter 5
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“Annie!” Hoss Cartwright cried in alarm at the sight before him as he descended the stairs the next morning.  Annie was struggling to lift the heavy irons from the cold fireplace.  Moving quickly to her side, Hoss reached in to pry the heavy weight from her hands, admonishing her as he did so.  “Annie, you ain’t gotta lift these heavy things.  Hop Sing can do it, or get me or Pa.  It’s too heavy for you, Annie,” Hoss voiced his concern that she should be doing such heavy work.

Relinquishing the task to her husband as she wiped her hands together dusting them off, Annie defended, “They ain’t so heavy, Hoss, and you know I’m strong,” a hint of pride in her voice at the statement.  “‘Sides, Hop Sing’s making breakfast for the hands already so I told him I’d clean out the fireplace.  And I cain’t do a good job with them irons in the way.”

“I know but…but…,” Hoss stammered, still not liking the idea, as he moved the irons out of the fireplace.  She worked too hard, he thought in discontent.  Annie worked too hard, he was beginning to realize.  It wasn’t just this morning with the fireplace but all the other things she did too.  And it’s not like she even had to work at all.  They certainly could afford to hire any help they needed.  “Annie, you ain’t gotta work so hard,” he voiced his displeasure.  “There ain’t no need for you to be doing all this housework,” Hoss complained, his brow furrowing.

“But Hoss!” Annie exclaimed in shock.  “But Hoss, I wanna do my share!”

“Annie, it ain’t about doing yer share,” Hoss stated emphatically.  “Yer doing more than yer share.  Yer doing too….”

“Miz Cartwright come quick!” Hop Sing broke into the room to exclaim.

“What’s wrong, Hop Sing?” Annie immediately rose from her place and turned towards the agitated man.

“Mister Frank in bunkhouse hurt.  Blood all over,” Hop Sing explained the emergency as Annie headed quickly towards him to follow him to the bunkhouse, Hoss following behind them both.

**********

“Now you be careful with that jacknife from now on, y’hear?” Annie admonished the ranch hand as she finished cleaning and bandaging the cut to his hand.  It wasn’t as bad as it looked, the sight of the copious amount of blood more frightening than life-threatening.

“Yes, ma’am,” the hand dutifully replied, a little embarrassed that his carelessness with the knife had resulted in one of the ranch owner’s wives having to tend him.  Everyone was a little in awe of the Cartwrights, but everyone knew Hoss Cartwright was a right friendly man and now Frank Diemert could say the same for his wife.  Why she didn’t have no airs about her at all.  It was as if she was just regular folk like one of them.

“There,” Annie said as she tied the last knot.  “All done.  I’ll be by after supper to check on it and change the bandage fer ya,” she said, rising to her feet.

“Thank ya.  Thank ya, ma’am,” Frank said appreciatively, nodding both to her and her husband standing nearby.

Looking about her as she was about to leave the bunkhouse, Annie spotted Digger Jones moving stiffly over to the pegboard to retrieve his hat.  The older man suffered aching joints, a frequent malady of the elderly, and Annie could tell they were paining him today.  “Mr. Jones, you been drinking that tea I done gave you?” Annie questioned, referring to the concoction she’d given him to help soothe his aching joints.

“Well, yeah, I have been…that is, when I can, ma’am,” the elderly man replied sheepishly.

“Hmm,” Annie grumbled to herself, thinking, if he’d just do as she said he wouldn’t be so stiff in his joints.  “Well, see that you do,” she chided her errant patient as turning, she left the bunkhouse, her husband on her heels.  Leaning in to whisper to him as they approached the house, Annie commanded, “Hoss, see that Digger Jones stays off his horse for a few days.  Maybe find him something to do around the barn.”  As Hoss raised his brow wondering at her strange order, she explained, “His joints are aching him cuz it’s so damp out.”

Understanding her meaning, Hoss nodded to her.  “Okay, Annie, I’ll find him something ter do here.”

“And I’d better get a move on,” Annie observed, hurrying towards house.  “I gave Hop Sing the rest of the day off to visit his cousin in town and Jenny’s coming by this morning.  I promised to help her learn to bake a pie.”

“Annie,” Hoss drew her name out warningly as he came to a standstill behind her.  Here she was again.  Doing too many things for too many folks.

“Now, Hoss,” Annie soothed, turning to him, “somebody’s got to show Jenny how to cook.  You don’t want yer brother to starve, do ya?”

Laughing out loud at Annie’s reasoning, Hoss conceded on a chuckle, “No, Annie, I wouldn’t want Joe to starve.  I could like as wring his neck at times but, no, I wouldn’t want him ta starve.”

“Well, get going then and leave me be,” Annie shooed him off, smiling a little at her victory. 

Turning away, Hoss’s face took on a worried expression.  Annie really did do too much, he thought, as he headed away from the house towards the barn, his hands in his pockets and his brow furrowed.

Chapter 6
********

“Here, Joe, have a piece of pie,” Jenny said, setting the pie plate on the table, proud of her achievement.  Why the pie looked perfect, she thought.  No burnt crust.  No overspilled filling.  Just perfect.  A perfect cherry pie.

“Why, Jenny, it looks great!” Joe enthused as he sat at the dining room table in the Ponderosa ranch house.  Cuting into the pie, he lifted out a wedge onto his plate, thinking what a good idea it had been when Jenny asked Annie to help her to learn to cook.  Chuckling to himself, he reflected what a good idea it had been both for Jenny AND himself, since he was the one doing the tastetesting.  Lifting his fork, he cut into the pie, raising the morsel to his mouth.  His eyes widening in surprise as he bit into the concoction, Joe faced a tremendous dilemma.  Try to hide his true reaction or admit to Jenny that something was very wrong with her pie.  In the end, the decision was out of his hands as tears began streaming down his face as he continued to chew.  It was that bad, this cherry pie.  Such a strong taste of…of…he wasn’t quite sure but whatever it was it surely was bad.

“Joe!” Jenny exclaimed at Joe’s expression, just as Annie came into the room from the kitchen. 

Seeing her brother-in-law almost choking on his pie, Annie reached to fill his glass with water.  Handing it quickly to him, she ordered, “Here, drink this!”

Gulping down the water between his sputtering coughs, Joe was finally able to breathe clearly again.  Looking over at Jenny, he saw her staring dumbfounded at the remaining pie on his plate. 

“But what did I do wrong?” she mumbled aloud, having realized by her husband’s reaction that her pie had been a dismal failure.  Turning to her sister-in-law, Jenny questioned in a puzzled tone, “But Annie, what did I do wrong?”

Just as confounded as Jenny, Annie wondered what could be so wrong with the pie as to cause such a reaction from Joe.  Bravely picking up another fork, Annie broke off a morsel of pie and raised it to her own lips.  A reaction not unlike Joe’s ensuing, Annie quickly reached for the glass of water, suddenly understanding the one flaw with Jenny’s pie.

“Annie?” Jenny questioned.

“Jenny…,” Annie began.  “Jenny, how much sugar did you put in the pie?”

“Why, two cups Annie,” Jenny answered, “just like you said to.”

“Jenny, did you use the sugar in the cannister on the shelf in the kitchen?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, the cannister was empty so I used the sugar in the pantry,” Jenny said, still puzzled.

“Jenny, I ain’t got no sugar in the pantry,” Annie stated.

“No sugar in the…?” Jenny trailed off.  “Then what did I….?”

“Salt,” Annie informed her.

“Salt!?” Jenny screeched.  “I put two cups of SALT in my pie?” she asked in disbelief, as Annie nodded her head to her.  Turning to look at her husband, an anguished expression on her face, Jenny apologized, “Joe, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, Joe.”

“Jenny…,” Joe began, wanting to tell Jenny not to worry about the pie.  There were more important things than pie and he didn’t care if she ever learned how to bake one.

“No, Joe,” Jenny interrupted him.  “You shouldn’t have to eat my failures.  I should have tasted it first, only I didn’t want to…I didn’t want to…,” Jenny trailed off.  She hadn’t wanted to cut into the pie, she’d been so proud of it.  She’d wanted Joe to see it in all its pristine glory.  “I’m sorry, Joe,” she apologized again.  Would she ever get it right? she wondered, berating herself for her stupidity, her chin beginning to tremble as tears welled in her eyes before she quickly looked down.

“Jenny!” Joe exclaimed, reaching out to clasp her arms in concern, having seen her tears before she’d dropped her head.  Why was she getting so upset? he wondered.  It was just a pie.  So what if she accidentally put salt in instead of sugar.  “Jenny…Jenny…it doesn’t matter,” he tried to soothe.

“It DOES matter, Joe!” Jenny exclaimed, as she bolted  from her chair and flew towards the door.

“Jenny!” Joe called, rising to follow after her.

Intercepting him, Annie moved into his path.  “Joe, let me talk to her.  It was my fault about the sugar.  Let me go, Joe,” she pleaded, not liking to see her sister-in-law in tears over something that wasn’t even her fault.  “Please, Joe,” she repeated as Joe nodded to her.

Following Jenny outside, Annie looked about her and seeing the open barn door, she quickly headed off towards it.  Entering the dim room, she came upon Jenny as she cried, her face buried into her horse Lightening’s neck, the horse having been stabled in the barn for the morning during the cooking lesson.

“Jenny, it wasn’t your fault about the pie,” Annie was quick to correct her sister-in-law as she came up behind her.  “Jenny, it was my fault.  I should have checked that there was enough sugar, Jenny.  You didn’t have no way of knowing.”  Moving closer as her sister-in-law continued crying, her sobs muffled into her horse’s neck, Annie came up beside her, reaching a hand to her shoulder.  “Really, Jenny, it’s jist a pie.  We can try another one tomorrow,” she said, suddenly thinking that maybe something else was bothering Jenny.  Something more than pie.  “Jenny, what’s wrong?” she prompted tenderly.  “All these tears can’t be over one pie, can they?”

Sniffling, Jenny shook her head, still buried in her horse’s neck.

Pulling her back from the horse and turning her towards her, Annie repeated, “What’s wrong, Jenny?”

Looking down at the ground, Jenny suddenly wished her mother was still alive.  She could always talk to her mother, convey her worries, ask for guidance.  And now she was married with a whole new set of issues and concerns and no mother to advise her.

“Jenny,” Annie prompted.

“It’s just…it’s just I try so hard, Annie.  I try so hard to be a good wife and I…I…,” she faltered.  “Joe deserves a good wife, Annie,” she said, shaking her head forlornly.

“Jenny!” Annie exclaimed in surprise.  “Jenny, you are a good wife!”

Shaking her head, Jenny countered, “Sometimes I wonder why Joe married me when he could have picked any girl he wanted.”

“Jenny!” Annie exclaimed again, shocked this time.

“I mean I can’t cook or sew or…or…,” Jenny faltered.

“Or what, Jenny?” Annie prompted.  At Jenny’s silence to her question, Annie prompted again, her voice gentle as she squeezed her arm, “Or what, Jenny?”

Hesitating a minute, Jenny continued, worry in her voice, “Or give him a baby.”

“Jenny!” Annie exclaimed in surprise.  “Jenny, you’ve only been married a year.  You have lots of time to have a baby yet,” she consoled.

“But you and Katherine both had babies your first year.  Why don’t I?” Jenny asked, doubt in her voice.

Annie considered Jenny’s words for a moment before eyeing her pointedly to ask, the question trailing off suggestively, “Well, Jenny, is Joe…is he….?” 

“Annie!” Jenny exclaimed as she blushed, now her turn to be shocked at the question her sister-in-law was alluding to.

Noting her sister-in-law’s blush at her intimate question, Annie sighed, “Well, I guess that ain’t the problem then.  Jenny, you just have to be patient.  I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

“But I want Joe to be happy.  I want to make him happy,” Jenny said.

Snorting a little at that, Annie observed, “Looks ter me like Joe ain’t suffering any.  What makes you think he ain’t happy?” 

Thinking of the saloon girl’s remarks to her that day in front of the store, Jenny shook her head.  “It’s just…well, Annie, what was Joe like before he married me?” she posed the question instead.

Surprised, Annie asked, “Whatd’ya mean, Jenny?”

“I mean, before he was my beau.  Did he…did he go out with a lot of other girls?” Jenny asked, putting into words what she’d come to suspect since her run-in with the saloon girl that day at the store.

“Well, Jenny,” Annie answered carefully, “I guess you could say he had a way with the girls.”  Eyeing Jenny sharply, she added, “But surely you don’t think he’s….”

“No,” Jenny shook her head in denial.  She knew Joe wasn’t stepping out with anybody else.  Sighing, she continued, “It’s just…if he went around with so many girls before why would he be happy with just me?  Especially if I can’t give him a baby.”

“Jenny!” Annie exclaimed, well and truly shocked this time.  You know, she thought, it was almost too bad that Jenny hadn’t had a beau or two herself before Joe.  Just to know her own appeal.  But she’d gone from being a pants-wearing tomboy to Joe Cartwright’s girl so quickly there hadn’t been time for any of the other fellas to stake a claim.  Not that she thought her and Joe didn’t belong together, because she did, those two, but still, it wouldna hurt Jenny any to hear how lovely she was from a few other fellas besides Joe.  Adopting a stern tone, Annie firmly reprimanded her sister-in-law, “Now, Jenny Cartwright, you listen to me.  You ain’t gotta do nothin’ to ‘make’ Joe happy.  He’s already happier than I’ve ever seen him.  So you jist put those worries out of yer head.” 

Leaning sideways against her horse, Jenny sighed, not convinced but suddenly very tired.  “Okay, Annie, if you say so.”
Chapter 7
********

Riding out across the land adjoining the Ponderosa ranch the next day, Hoss felt his stomach lurch as he came upon the sight of the animal caught in the trap.  It was just that his immediate empathy for the injured animal caused his own physical reaction.  The poor thing, he thought, dismounting from his horse and carefully approaching the animal, its front leg caught in the steely trap.  He wondered for a moment what a dog was doing way out here where only wild animals roamed.  Hearing the animal’s soft whimpers, Hoss took a deep breath and stole closer, knowing as he did so that he put himself in no small measure of danger.  An injured animal was a dangerous thing.  In its pain and fear it could turn on the very hand that tried to help it.  Within a foot or two of the animal, Hoss was surprised to note that this dog showed no signs of agression, only stared up at Hoss with doleful, pleading eyes.  Crouching low before the animal, Hoss assessed the damage.  It was bad, he noted grimly.  How he hated these traps, thinking them cruel and inhumane.  Most folks didn’t use them any more but there could still be found an odd trap here and there, long ago abandonned and forgotten.  The large trap had bit into the animal’s leg, mangling it almost beyond recognition.  And the animal had been here a while, evidenced by the dried blood and the way he’d tried to chew his way free, almost severing his limb in the process.  Taking a deep breath, Hoss wondered what to do.  Surely the best thing to do would be to put the poor creature out of its misery.  Only pain and suffering awaited it now.  Pain and suffering and a slow death.   Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Hoss reached out instead, manoeuvering the lever that sprung the trap open, carefully prying the deadly clamp wide.  Hoss felt his heart lurch for a second time as the animal cried out in pain as he edged the steely device away from its body, freeing its maimed extremity.

Hoss paused for a moment then, speaking gently to the creature as he met its eyes to ask, “Well, what do we do now boy?” wondering if the wounded creature would allow him any further liberties.  Looking up at the human with mournful eyes, the dog made no effort to rise now that the it was free of the trap, perhaps keenly aware of its inability to do so.  Unable to help it Hoss reached out to brush his hand reassuringly against the side of the dog’s face, his touch featherlight.  As if sensing the goodness of the human trying to help him, the dog turned his head to weakly lick Hoss’s hand in gratitude and it was that small display of trust that clinched Hoss’s decision.  Pulling back, he shrugged out of his coat, carefully drapping it around the animal as he lifted it from the ground.  At the dog’s pitiful whimpers, Hoss consoled, “Now don’t you worry none.  Ole Hoss here’ll take care of you.”  Carefully mounting his horse, the wounded creatures craddled in his arms, Hoss turned, heading home to the Ponderosa.

**************

“I just don’t know if I done the right thing,” Hoss Cartwright agonized to his wife, Annie.  “Maybe it woulda been better to…to…,” Hoss trailed off, not wanting to put into words the thought that it maybe it would have been better, more humane, to kill the wounded animal.  After all, what kind of a life would it have now? he wondered.  Now that it only had three legs.

“Hoss, you’re givin’ it a chance. A chance, Hoss.  That cain’t be wrong,” Annie consoled her troubled husband as they stood in the barn, the dog asleep nearby on a bedding of hay and blankets, its body bandaged heavily from neck to mid-belly.  She’d been surprised when he’d brought the wounded animal back with him to the ranch, thinking to herself as she saw the extent of its injuries that it wouldn’t survive.  It was a bad wound, signs of infection already evident, and Annie realized it likely wouldn’t be long before the infectious toxins would poison the rest of the animal’s body.  Oh, she’d seen that enough with humans when she’d worked for the doctor over in Carson City to know it wouldn’t be much different with the dog.  But then she’d seen Hoss’s face.  Seen his face and read his determination to help the creature.  Nodding to him, she’d gone into the house and gotten her bag of medical supplies, mentally trying to calculate how much ether would be needed to put an animal the size of a small dog under.  Attentively monitoring the animal after the drug had done its required work, Annie had watched as her husband worked over the small creature, carefully cutting away the infected flesh, carefully severing what remained of the shattered bone.  “Hoss, yer giving it a chance and that’s all anyone can ask of ya,” Annie continued, still seeing how heavy Hoss’s decision to amputate the dog’s leg was weighing on his mind.  “I’ve seen if afore, Hoss, and so have you.  An infection like that woulda killed him.  You done the only thing you coulda to save his life.”

“I know, Annie,” Hoss answered.  “I know that,” he repeated, still torn.  “But maybe I shoulda just….,” he trailed off, shaking his head at the thought.

“No, Hoss, you couldna done that,” Annie supplied knowingly, understanding his meaning, as her husband looked up at her in surprise.  “You couldn’t kill an animal, Hoss.  Not when he has a chance to live,” she informed him, putting into words what she’d recognized about her husband’s character a long time ago.

Nodding his head slightly, Hoss took in his wife’s words.  No, he couldn’t have killed the dog, not unless he’d been absolutely certain that there was no hope and only by killing it he could spare the animal more pain.  How had Annie known that? he wondered.  Known him so well like that?  Reaching out, Hoss drew his wife into his arms, silently embracing her as Annie reached her arms around his waist to hug him back. 

“Thank you, Annie,” Hoss murmured quietly to her, grateful for her reassurance and her comforting words, as he dropped his head beside hers.  Continuing the embrace, Annie didn’t answer as she held her husband close, her silent action speaking all that needed to be said.
Chapter 8
********

Moving hurriedly across the courtyard towards the barn in the wee hours of the morning, his hands crammed into his pockets, Hoss wondered what the dog he’d impulsively named Skeeter would be like today.  It was three days already.  Three days since he had amputated the poor creature’s front leg in an attempt to save its life.  The dog had come through that alright but Hoss knew it was the healing process that was the real test.  Pitifully weak from its ordeal, the dog still faced the possibility of infection setting in.  So its fate was far from certain yet and Hoss probably shouldn’t have given the dog a name.  In case…well, in case he didn’t make it.  Once you gave an animal a name it became important to you and if you lost it, why, it just made it all the harder.  Coming up to the barn doors, Hoss was surprised to see the door ajar.  Who was out in the barn at this early hour? he wondered.  He’d only gotten up himself ten minutes before, dressing quickly and going out back to chop wood to start the morning fire before coming to check on the animal.

Nudging one of the doors open wider, Hoss peered into the dim interior, his gaze drawn to where Skeeter was bedded down, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the low light.  Inhaling sharply a few seconds later at the sight before him, Hoss stood frozen a moment, finally leaning over to rest his shoulder against the door frame as he watched the scene before him.

Her body in profile to him and unaware of her husband’s presence, Annie was talking quietly, soothingly to the animal as she crouched low before him, holding a bowl of broth in her hand before the dog.  “There.  There’s a good boy,” Annie whispered approvingly as the dog lapped delicately from the dish, as Annie reached with her other hand to gently scratch him behind his ear.  “What a good boy you are, Skeeter,” Annie softly praised the creature, adopting her husband’s name for the animal, as she continued talking to him quietly.

Drinking in the sight before him, Hoss had the sudden revelation that he’d never seen Annie more beautiful.  Just why that should be so, he couldn’t quite figure out.  It couldn’t be her clothes, for she was wearing one of his old coats, the oversize garment almost swallowing her up, extending down  to her knees.  She’d had to roll the sleeves back just to free her hands from the voluminous folds and the dress she wore underneath was an old one, one she’d owned from before they’d married, it’s pattern worn and faded as the material pooled around her on the hay-strewn floor.  And it couldn’t be her hair, he realized, still trying to figure out what made the picture so appealing.  She hadn’t even fixed her hair yet.  It hung down her back in a thick braid, numerous strands escaping their supposed constraint to curl in disorder about her.  Was it her face then? he wondered.  Her face that made her so beautiful?  Hoss shook his head a little.  Her couldn’t even see much of her face, the way she was in profile to him, her attention directed at the dog.

“You’ll be up in no time, won’t you?” Annie was cooing softly to the dog as she continued to stroke him.  “Yes, you will, especially if you keep eating like this,” she teased, her voice tender, as the dog emptied the bowl and proceeded to lick all traces of broth from the sides. 

Finally conceeding defeat at trying to find an explanation for just why Annie looked so good to him at this particular moment, Hoss straightened away from the door frame and moved purposefully into the room.  Hearing his approach, Annie turned to him, looking up at him from her position low to the ground, a pleased smile lighting her face.  “He’s much better today, Hoss,” she blurted out quickly, wanting to share this piece of good news with him as she smiled hopefully up at him.  Not taking his eyes off her, Hoss moved swiftly till he stood before her, reaching down to pull her abruptly to her feet, the bowl dropping from Annie’s hand in startled surprise.  Puzzled by the intensity of her husband’s looks and actions, Annie stammered, “H-Hoss?” just as her husband pulled her to him, lowering his head to meet her lips with his in a passionate kiss as the dog stared curiously up at the pair.  Words of startled surprise muffled on her lips, Annie clung weakly to her husband, his sudden display of acute ardor overwhelming her.  Pulling minutely apart after a moment or two, Annie found some small measure of breath left inside her to pose the word, “Hoss….?” before Hoss leaned in to claim her lips again, his ardor still burning brightly as he locked his arms tightly about her.

Finding her inquiries silenced for the second time, Annie gave herself up to the heady sensations swirling in her mind, heart and body.  She’d wanted to ask him why he was kissing her like that.  Kissing her like that before the sun was even all the way up, out in the dim barn surrounded by horses and hay, and her looking the way she did.  Wearing his old coat, her old dress and her hair all undone.  Why was he kissing her like that? she’d wanted to ask but the question had been silenced on her lips.  Silenced till other more important matters prevailed.  Silenced until she questioned no more.
Chapter 9
********

Hoss Cartwright looked up from his spot at the front of the ranchhouse a few days later at the approaching rider.  Laying down his saw, he brushed his hands across the sides of his thighs, sweeping away any sawdust, before moving into the courtyard to greet the stranger.

The stranger pulled up in front of the big man standing in front of the big house, worry on his face.  David Simpson had good reason to be worried.  He was new to these parts, him and his family, his wife Sara, and their son Davey and they hardly knew a soul.  But that wasn’t what worried him.  No, Sara was, well, most times folks called it being in a family way.  And he was worried about her.  She’d been poorly for a few days now and he thought there might be something wrong.  Something wrong with her or the baby.  Going into town to fetch a doctor he’d been dismayed to find the physician out of town, seeing to another patient some thirty miles away.  But folks in town had said to try Mrs. Cartwright.  Try Mrs. Annie Cartwright.  She had a healing way about her, had worked for a doctor before and could likely tend his wife.  So he’d come out to this place.  This Ponderosa he’d heard folks talk of.

“Howdy,” the big man on the ground said to him.

“Howdy,” David echoed back, nodding his head to him.  “Would you be Hoss Cartwright?” he asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.  There couldn’t be two men this size.

“Yessir, that’s me,” Hoss confirmed, wondering who the man was and what  he wanted.  “What can I do fer ya?” he enquired.

“Mr. Cartwright, my name’s David Simpson.  Me and my wife got a place just the other side of Pike’s Peak,” David began, pausing to take a deep breath.  “Only my wife is kind of poorly and the doc is outta town.  Folks in town said…said yer wife might be able to help.  I don’t mean trouble you none but…but…,” he faltered, his voice apologetic.

Holding up his hand to halt the man, Hoss nodded in understanding, seeing the man’s worry. “I’ll go fetch my missus.  I’m shore she’ll be glad to help,” he said, knowing Annie would be happy to do what she could, thinking of the other times folks had called upon her assistance.  No, this wasn’t the first time folks had come to ask for Annie’s help and it wouldn’t be the last.  Word was spreading about this particular Mrs. Cartwright.  How she had the touch.  The healing touch.  Turning towards the house, Hoss was startled when the door opened and Annie came out, wrapping her shawl hurriedly around her as she walked quickly towards him, her medical bag in her hand.  Meeting her eyes and reading her thoughts, Hoss realized that Annie already knew the reason for the stranger’s visit.  It was that peculiar intuition she had about things.  Stopping, he nodded to her, telling her, “Annie, I’ll go hitch up the buggy.” At her nod of acknowledgement he turned, heading past the stranger towards the barn.

Approaching the man still up on his horse, Annie looked up at him to ask without preamble, “Can you tell me more about what’s ailing yer wife?”

“Well…ah…ah…,” David faltered, wondering if he’d missed something.  He was sure there hadn’t been time for the big man to explain the situation to his wife.  The circumstances being too dire to wonder long on the matter, he took a few minutes to explain about his wife, her condition and the way she’d been feeling of late. 

Nodding her head in understanding and seeing the man’s worry, Annie soothed, “Now don’t you worry none.  I’m sure everything’ll be fine,”  just as Hoss drove the buggy up alongside them.  Stopping, he stepped down, moving to Annie to help her inside.

“Lead away,” Hoss called out to the man on his horse after he’d followed Annie into the buggy.  Turning his horse, David led the pair towards his ranch.
***************

“Really, Miz Cartwright, my David is just fussing too much,” Sara Simpson complained from her bed.  “I’ll be right as rain in no time.  I’m jist a little tired, is all.”

“Hmm,” Annie grumbled noncommittally as she felt the woman’s pulse.  “Any pain anywhere?” she probed.

“No, no pain,” Sara Simpson answered as Annie continued feeling her pulse.  “Like I said, I’m jist tired.”

Her pulse was a little faster than it should be, but strong and steady.  “How long have your hands and feet been swollen like that?” Annie asked, eyeing the extremities with some concern.

“Well…,” the woman hesitated.  “I guess just the last couple days or so,” as Annie nodded in understanding.  It sometimes happened.  Especially to women so late in their pregnancy, like Mrs. Simpson.  Too much fluid retention.  Edema, the doctors called it.

Grabbing a few nearby pillows, Annie propped the woman’s feet up, telling her as she did so, “Keep yer feet raised up like this.  It’ll help with the swelling some.  Yer hands too,” she added, propping them likewise.  “I’ll go make ya something to drink that’ll help take down the swelling,” Annie announced, rising and turning towards the door. 

Stopping short at the sight of a young boy peeking curiously into the room, Annie listened as Mrs. Simpson explained, “Oh, that’s just my boy, Davey.  Davey, say hello to Miz Cartwright.”

“Hello,” Davey obediently said.

Smiling a little, Annie replied, “Hello, Davey.  It’s nice to meet ya.  Can you show me where the kitchen is?”

Nodding, Davey turned as Annie followed behind him, stifling her surprise at the boy’s awkward gait.  It was apparent one of the child’s legs was considerably shorter than the other, resulting in a pronounced limp when he walked.

Meeting Hoss and David Simpson as they waited in the next room, Annie was quick to reassure them.  “I think she’s alright.  Jist holding more water than she should.  I’ll make her something to help with that till Doc Martin can come take a look at her.”

“Thank you, Miz Cartwright,” David Simpson breathed in relief and gratitude.

“It weren’t nothing, Mr. Simpson.  Now, Davey,” she turned to the child, “where’s this kitchen of yore’n?”

Chapter 10
*********
Little Joe didn’t know how much more he could take of this.  Jenny wouldn’t let him touch her like he was used to doing throughout the day.  Holding her hand, brushing up against her, the hugs when they parted and re-met.  He hadn’t known.  Hadn’t known how vital those small touches had become to him.  And the way she trembled when he touched her.  She always did, without fail.  It was like an electric current ran between them, recharging them both and without it he felt empty and hollow.

“Jenny, what’s wrong?” Joe tried again to get her to tell him what was going on as they stood in the front room of their home.  Something was bothering her, that much was clear.  It was almost a week now, a week since she’d been acting this way.  It must be something he’d done, he told himself.  But he just couldn’t figure out what.

“Nothing’s wrong, Joe,” Jenny denied his words, turning away from him as he drew near.

“Jenny, something’s wrong!” Joe replied fiercely.  Did she think he was blind?  “You won’t let me touch you,” he said.  “Why?  Why, Jenny?” he demanded to know.

“Joe, there’s nothing….,”

“Jenny,” Joe interrupted, “you have to tell me what I did wrong.  What did I do wrong, Jenny?”

Turning quickly at her husband’s self-accusatory words, Jenny countered, “Joe, Joe, you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Then why are you mad at me?” Joe asked, trying to understand.

“I’m not mad at you, Joe!” Jenny denied.  Had she done that? she wondered.  Made him think he’d done something wrong?  Something to be angry at him over?

“Then what is it, Jenny?  Tell me, please,” he begged.

Hesitating a moment, Jenny shook her head, not wanting to discuss it. 

“Please, Jenny,” Joe begged again, seeing her hesitant expression.

Taking a deep breath, Jenny debated with herself, finally making a decision.  “You didn’t do anything wrong..  It’s not you.  It’s…it’s me,” she began, searching for the words to explain her concerns. 

“What’s you, Jenny?” Joe asked, confused.

Pausing again, Jenny wondered just how to put it into words.  “It’s just…it’s just….are you happy, Joe?” she asked.

“Am I happy?” Joe echoed, incredulously.  What in heaven’s name was this all about?

“I’m wondering if you’re happy, Joe,” Jenny finally confessed her worry.  “I’m wondering if you’re happy with…me.  If…if I’m enough for you.”

“Enough what, Jenny?” Joe asked, puzzled.

Jenny looked up sharply at his question, wondering that he didn’t understand her meaning.  Seeing his look of honest confusion, Jenny clarified, “Enough woman, Joe.  I’m wondering if I’m enough woman for you.”

“Jenny!” Joe exclaimed in surprise.  Where had all this come from? he wondered. “Of course you’re enough for me!” Joe exclaimed in relief.  So this was all that was bothering her?  He almost smiled in amusement as he reached his arms out towards her.

Pulling further back as he husband went to embrace her, Jenny protested, “But I’m not like those other women, Joe.”

“What other women, Jenny?” Joe asked, his almost-smile quickly replaced by consernation at the way she’d pulled away from him.

“The other women that you’ve…that you’ve kissed,” Jenny informed him.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Joe squirmed, “But Jenny….,”

“And you’ve kissed a lot of other women, haven’t you, Joe?” Jenny interrupted him.  Shaking her head at her own question, Jenny said, “No, you don’t have to answer that.  I already know.”

“Jenny….” Joe began, trying to explain, “Jenny, that was all before I met you.  There’s been no one but you since I first laid eyes on you, Jenny.  No one but you,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a tender whisper.  As Jenny continued to stand silently before him, Joe tried another tactic.  “Jenny, it’s you I love, you I married.  Those other girls I kissed….well, they’re forgotten.  Just like the boys you’ve kissed before me.  It’s the same thing.”

Colour suddenly infusing her face, Jenny dropped her eyes from his.  “But I haven’t kissed any other boys, Joe,” she confessed.

Stiffening a little in surprise at his wife’s words, Joe moved closer, reaching out to pull her to him, his wife not resisting his efforts this time.  “None, Jenny?” he prompted tenderly, remembering their first kiss.  Her first kiss, he marveled.  Hell, he would never have known it if she hadn’t told him.  Not the way she’d kissed him back that time.  Suddenly, of its own volition, a pleased grin came to his face.  He had to admit it.  It pleased him.  Knowing he was the first and only man to kiss her.

“None,” Jenny confirmed, still looking down.  A small silence following her declaration, Jenny stole a glance upwards at her husband’s face.  Seeing his expression as he grinned down at her, Jenny exclaimed, “Joe!”

“What?” he asked in mock innocence, making no attempt to hide his grin.  “I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t please me, Jenny.  And it does please me,” he told her, his voice suddenly dropping low.

“Joe, be serious,” Jenny admonished, pulling away.  “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m…I’m different from those other women.”

“Jenny, what are you talking about?” Joe asked in exasperation.

Sighing, Jenny realized she was going to have to be blunt.  “I’m small, Joe,” she ground out.  “I’m not like those other women at the saloon.  I’m not…,” Jenny paused, searching for the word, “….voluptuous.”

“Volup…,” Joe choked on the word, her meaning suddenly clear to him.  “Jenny…”

“So I’m just wondering if it’s enough for you.  If I’m enough for you,” Jenny explained, doubt in her voice.

Good God! Joe thought to himself.  Didn’t she know?  Didn’t she know what she did to him?  The passion she ignited in him?  She wondered if she was enough woman for him.  Enough woman?  Hell, if she was any more woman, he’d….Joe shook his head.  “Jenny, you’re more than enough for me,” he tried to reassure her.

“I’m not too…,” Jenny waved her hand vaguely before her body, “…too small?”

“Jenny, you’re perfect,” he told her firmly.  His wife’s eyes wide as she soaked in his words, he repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Perfect for me.”  Seeing the doubt still lingering in the depths of her eyes, Joe suddenly felt something akin to anger arise inside him.  If his words of reassurance weren’t enough, well, then, he would just show her, he decided, suddenly pulling her to him and lowering his head to kiss her.

Startled by her husband’s sudden move, Jenny let out a little cry of surprise just as her husband’s mouth settled over hers, stifling her cry.  Caught in her husband’s spontaneous kiss, Jenny’s head swirled at the sudden passion lit between them.  This was no tender, gentle kiss, the kind they’d shared so often before.  No, this was different.  Passionate, raw, demanding.  Revelling in the uncontrolled fire raging inside them both, Jenny wound her arms up around her husband’s neck, clinging to him as her body trembled against his.

Ignoring the voice inside him telling him to slow down, to be tender and gentle, Joe let his passion reign unchecked.  His mouth raking across his wife’s, he took instead of gave.  Demanded instead of asked.  Shaking as the fire of his need coursed through him, Joe pulled back slightly, his mouth a whisper away from hers.  “This is what you do to me, Jenny,” he groaned, before he moved to claim her lips again.

As he continued to show her in the most effective way possible that yes, indeed, she was enough for him, Jenny felt her doubts melt away in the fire of her husband’s embrace.
Chapter 11
*********

“Come on up to the house fer something to eat, Sam,” Hoss invited the young man who’d delivered a load of supplies from the general store in Virginia City to the ranch house, as Skeeter barked noisily from the ground, hopping excitedly about on his three legs.  Casting a glance towards the dog, Hoss commanded, “Quiet boy.”  The dog immediately understanding and obeying the order, Hoss felt a little jolt of pride course through him.  This was one smart dog, he was beginning to realize.  Already he’d taught him several tricks, the dog’s keen mind picking up the instructions easily.

“Naw, thanks just the same,” the young man answered, declining the invitation, embarrassed to accept what felt like charity, even though the offer sounded mighty inviting.  He’d only just gotten the job at the store and cash was still in short supply and didn’t always stretch as far as it was needed.

“Well, if you’re shore…,” Hoss trailed off, eyeing the young man, thinking he could use a good meal.

“Yeah, I’d best be getting along,” Sam answered, turning to go, just as Annie came through the barn door and approached the two men.

“Hey, Sam,” Hoss called out to stop him.  “This here’s my wife, Annie,” Hoss introduced them as Sam turned back.  “Annie, this here’s Sam Whitman.  You recollect me mentioning him to you.”

“Why shore I do,” Annie replied, greeting the stranger.  “It’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

“It’s nice to me ya, ma’am,” Sam said, touching the brim of his hat.

“Hoss, how come you ain’t invited Sam up to the house?  I’m just about to fix lunch.”

“Well,” Hoss hemmed nervously, “I did, Annie…..,”

“Please don’t bother, ma’am,” Sam interrupted.  “I’ll be getting something in town.”

Narrowing her eyes on the young man as he stood before her, Annie very much doubted if he had the money to buy anything in town, much less a good meal.  Deciding to take matters into her own hands, she assumed an affronted tone, “Sam Whitman, if that ain’t the most insulting thing I’ve ever heard.  Why, my cooking is ten times better that what you’d get in town!  Now you go on into the bunkhouse and wash up and then come on in fer lunch.”  Holding up her hand to silence him as he made to protest, Annie’s voice was firm. “Now I mean it!  Ain’t nobody gonna tell me they prefer that restaurant food over my cooking!  Now go on,” she commanded, shooing him away, “and don’t keep me waiting!”  Turning quickly, Annie headed back to the house, her abrupt departure forestalling any denials.  The two men watched as Annie entered the house, a small silence filling the air as they stared after her, mildly stunned at her vehement outburst.

Breaking the silence, Sam spoke his observation aloud, “She sure is a bossy piece of business, ain’t she?”

“She shore is,” Hoss agreed, pride in his voice.  “Now come on and let’s git washed up.  We’d best not keep her waitin’ long,” he winked, drapping his arm across Sam’s back as together they headed to the bunkhouse.
Chapter 12
*********

Annie nudged her sleeping husband a few weeks later.  “Hoss, wake up,” she whispered urgently, her nudge ineffective against her husband’s solid slumber.  “Wake up, Hoss!” she repeated louder, whacking him on the arm as Hoss jolted from his sleepy state.

“Annie?  What’s wrong, Annie?” Hoss asked, startled and alarmed.

“I got a feeling, Hoss,” Annie informed him, as she was wont to do.  “About Miz Simpson.  I…I think it’s her time.”

“Oh, is that all, Annie?” Hoss slumped back against the bed, not so worried anymore, as he closed his eyes in preparation of going back to sleep.

Whacking him on the arm again, Annie commanded, “Get up, Hoss!  Yer taking me over there.”

“Now Annie?” Hoss complained.  “It’s the middle of the night.”

“No, it’s not, Hoss, it’s almost morning.  And even if it were the middle of the night you’d still be taking me over,” Annie grumbled, as Hoss sighed and rolled out of bed, pausing a moment to sit on the edge of the mattress and scratch his head.  It didn’t do no good to argue with Annie when she got like this, especially since she was usually right about things.  That strange intuition she had about things came in mighty handy sometimes, except like now when it meant an interruption to his sleep. 

“Hurry up, Hoss,” Annie commanded, throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed.

Sighing, Hoss went to find his pants.

***********

“It’s a good thing you were here, Mrs. Cartwright,” Dr. Martin said, moving to the door of the ranch house after he’d finished examining the new mother and child.  He’d arrived at the ranch house to find the child already born and Annie Cartwright quietly going about taking care of things.

“Oh, I’m jist glad I could help,” Annie replied modestly, ushering the doctor to the door.

“Well, it could have been a difficult birth and you handled things just fine.  Any time you need a job, you just let me know.  There’s a lot of ground to cover out here for just one doctor and I’d be glad to have you for my assistant,” the doctor offered and then chuckled.  “You know, my wife should thank you too.  She says she’s seen more of me since you settled here than at any other time in our entire marriage!”

Smiling her pleasure at the compliment, Annie said, “Well, you tell yer wife I’m jist doing what I can to help, is all.”

Watching a moment as her husband walked the doctor to his carriage, Annie turned back towards the room, spotting young Davey Simpson peeking around the corner at her.  “Davey?” she called.  “Davey, don’t you want to see the new baby?” she invited.

The boy continuing to stare silently at her from his almost-hidden spot, Annie moved close to him, stopping and crouching low before him.  “Ain’t you even wondering if you got a brother or a sister?” she asked.

Silently the boy shook his head as Annie pondered the strange behaviour.  Sighing she got up and was about to turn away, when the boy bluttered, “What about its legs?  Are its legs alright?”

Crouching back before the child, Annie met the boy’s eyes to reassure him, “Yes, Davey, her legs are alright.”

“They’re not like…they’re not like mine?” he asked urgently.

With a sudden understanding, Annie reached out to squeeze the boy’s arm.  “Davey, you jist wait here a minute.”  Turning back towards the bedroom, Annie came up on Sara and David Simpson as they talked quietly together in the small bedroom, their newborn child asleep in Sara’s arms.  “Sara, would you mind if I took the baby fer a minute? To…to show Davey?  He…he don’t want to come in right now,” Annie ended lamely.

“Why shore, Annie,” Sara answered, a little puzzled but nevertheless relinquishing the child, as Annie scooped the baby into her arms.

Carrying the baby across the room towards her brother, Annie crouched down low before the boy, holding the baby in the crook of her arm and across her lap.  With her other hand she carefully unwrapped the blanket surrounding it.  “See, Davey?” she asked, when the child’s limbs were finally explosed.  “See?  Her legs are fine,” Annie informed him.

Peering down at his sister’s well-formed limbs, Davey visibly slumped in relief.  “I’m glad of it,” he said.  “I’m glad she’s not like me.  I wouldn’t want her ta….,” Davey trailed off, suddenly switching the topic as realization struck.  “Hey, did you say it’s a girl?  I wanted a brother, not a sister!” he objected with childlike vigor.  “Girls ain’t good fer nothin’,” he complained.

Ah, this was more like it, Annie smiled, her smile softening her rebuke, “Well, Davey Simpson, a sister is what you got and a sister is what you’ll keep.”  Wrapping the baby back in its blanket she rose, turning back to the small bedroom, the smile still on her face.

Chapter 13
*********

“Hoss Cartwright!” Annie angrily stormed into their room the next day, her arms crossed in front of her as she called her husband’s name.

“Annie?” Hoss turned from the wardrobe closet to look at his wife in surprise.

“Hoss Cartwright,” Annie began again, her voice accusing.  “Did you tell Hop Sing I wasn’t allowed to lift the wash kettles no more?” she demanded, fresh from her encounter with the adamant Chinese man who wouldn’t let her near the aforementioned cast iron pots.

Oh, so that was what this was about, Hoss thought to himself.  Confronting his wife, Hoss replied, “Yeah, Annie, I did.  I told ya I don’t want ya doing all that heavy work no more.”

“But…but…,” Annie sputtered, struck speechless at her husband’s actions.

“But nothin’, Annie,” Hoss finished for her.  “You ain’t doing that no more and that’s final,” Hoss commanded in a firm voice.

Shocked and dismayed at her husband’s order–never having heard him use that tone before–Annie stared silently up at him, feeling a strange sort of panic invade her.  “But Hoss,” she finally managed.  “But Hoss, I have to.  I have to take care of my family,” she pleaded as Hoss narrowed his eyes on her, wondering at her strange statement and the strange way she’d said it.

“Annie, you do take care of us,” he informed her.  “But you ain’t gotta do everything yerself.”

“Please, Hoss,” Annie wasn’t letting the matter drop.  “Please let me do what I need ta,” she begged.

“Need ta?  You ‘need’ ta, Annie?” Hoss asked, now even more confused.  “Why do ya ‘need’ ta?”

“Because…,” Annie stopped, wondered herself just why doing as much work as she could was so important to her.  She just knew that for some reason it was.  That it was the only way to stop the…stop the fear.  The fear that if she didn’t, she would lose everything, lose everyone.  Just like she had when her parents had….Annie shook her head, not wanting to think of that.

Watching his wife as she struggled mentally with her herself, Hoss had a sudden suspicion.  A sudden idea of why this was so important to Annie.  Moving to her, he reached for her hand, pulling her alongside him as he sat on the edge of the bed.  Pulling her down beside him, Hoss stared intently at her as he gently coaxed, “Annie, I want ya to tell me about yer folks.”

Confused by the sudden change of topic, Annie stammered, “My…my folks?  I…I told you my folks died when I was ten, Hoss.”

“I know you did, Annie,” Hoss countered.  “But I was jist wondering what happened, is all.”

Realizing her husband was asking for the full story of what had happened, Annie shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, hoping to dispell his interest..  She really didn’t want to recount it all for him.  Hoping to satisfy his curiousity with a short version, she offered, “Well, when I was about ten years old they took sick with fever.  Both of them come down with it within a day of each other.  Weren’t much that could be done and they…and they….,” Annie hesitated over the words, “…and they both died.”

“A fever?” Hoss contemplated his wife’s words.  “And there weren’t nothing the doctor could do?” he asked.

“Well…,” Annie hesitated.  “Weren’t no doctor there.  It was…it was jist me and my folks.”

“Jist you and your folks, Annie?” Hoss frowned.  “You mean you was all alone when your folks…when they took sick?”

Annie nodded her head in answer to her husband’s question.  Seeing his questioning look, she continued tentatively, “We had a little place out in the middle of nowhere.  The nearest town was two days away.  Even if I’d gone for a doctor it’d a been too late,” she explained.  “So I…so I did what I could fer ’em,” Annie said, suddenly dropping her head at the memories.  “Really, I did what I could fer ’em,” she repeated.

“Annie, Annie…,” Hoss began.  “I don’t mean you shoulda left ’em to go fer a doctor.  I was jist wondering about you being there all alone, Annie.  You were jist a little kid, Annie.  Jist a young’un,” Hoss added, sympathy in his voice.

Annie shrugged a little at her husband’s observation, uncomfortable at having told him this much.  “I should get back to work now,” Annie announced, moving to rise.

Reaching out Hoss stopped her, pulling her back onto the bed.  “So what happened then, Annie?” Hoss prompted.

“What do you mean what happened, Hoss?  I told you.  They both died,” Annie replied.

“No, I mean, I want to know what happened when they died,” Hoss clarified.

Shaking her head a little, Annie said carefully, “Hoss, I don’t know….I don’t know if I can tell you about it.”

“Why not, Annie?” Hoss asked gently, squeezing her arm a little.  “If you don’t want me to know….,”

Shaking her head, Annie denied, “No, Hoss.  That ain’t it.  It’s jist…..,” 

“Jist what, Annie?”

Turning her head a little to stare silently out into space, Annie wondered if she could tell him.  Tell him the long held secrets in her heart about that awful time.  Maybe it was time to finally share what had happened that night.  If there was one person in this world she could share her pain with it was this man.  Her husband.  Her best friend.  “Alright, Hoss,” Annie said suddenly, turning back to face him.  “I’ll tell you what happened.”

“Only if you want to, Annie,” Hoss countered tenderly.

Nodding her head, Annie began, “Well, first it was my Pa that took sick.  Ma and me…well, we weren’t too worried at first.  Folks was always taking sick one way or another.  Ma and me, we tended him, tried to bring the fever down but it weren’t no use.  He jist kept getting worse till he started talking out of his head like.”  Shaking her head at the memories, Annie continued, “And then…and then Ma, she got the fever too and it was jist me, jist me tending them both.  I asked Ma what to do.  If I should go fer a doctor.  But that was two days away, Hoss.  Two days there and two days back.  Ma said no, jist to stay nearby.  So I did, Hoss.  I stayed and did what I could fer ’em.”  Her voice quivering a little on the last part, Annie looked up to meet Hoss’s eyes.

Seeing the pain deep in the depths of his wife’s eyes, Hoss said, “Annie, you ain’t gotta tell me no more.”

“No, Hoss, I want to,” Annie replied, desperate now to purge the memories.  Swallowing hard, she continued her story.  “So I took care of ’em both.  And sometime in the night, my Pa…he stopped talking out of his head and got real quiet.  I took a wet cloth to wipe his face and I could tell he weren’t breathing no more, that he was dead.  I was only ten years old but I knew my Pa was dead,” she choked out.  “My Ma…she was getting real bad too.  So I sat beside her, doing what I could, begging her…begging her not to leave me.  I promised her I’d be good, that I’d do all my chores and more, told her I’d do anything she wanted only…only…she couldn’t leave me.  She was all I had left and she couldn’t leave me!” Annie cried out in agony.

“Annie, Annie…,” Hoss placed his hands on her arms now, shaking as he tried to interrupt her, to get her to stop the anguished memories tearing at her heart, tearing at both their hearts.

Oblivious to his actions, Annie perservered, “But it didn’t do no good.  My Ma…she died just a few hours later.  And then I was by myself.  By myself with the…with the dead bodies.  It was dark outside and I was alone with the dead bodies of my parents.”  Annie took a deep breath.  “When the sun come up in the morning, I left.  I took one of the horses and I rode for two days till I come into the town.  When I told them what had happened, they wouldn’t come near me at first.  They thought I’d brung the sickness with me.  But finally the minister, he took me in and I slept, I don’t know, musta been a coupla days.  When I come to, the minister asked if I had any other kin I could go to.  I didn’t have no other kin.  I didn’t have no one and nothing left in this world.  So I ended up staying with the minister and his wife for four years, working for them and other folks in the town.”  Stopping, Annie looked up at Hoss, a silent plea in her eyes.

“Annie…,” Hoss began, not knowing what to say.

“You can see I did what I could fer ’em, Hoss, can’t you?  I did what I could,” she repeated, pleading for understanding.

Pulling her to him, Hoss enveloped her in his arms.  “Annie, I know you did.  It weren’t nobody’s fault what happened.  Ain’t nobody coulda done no better, Annie.  Nobody,” he reassured her as Annie began to cry quietly into his chest, relief flooding her at his words.  Why, this was the first time anybody’d ever told her that.  Told her it wasn’t her fault that her folks had died.  She’d always thought that if she’d just taken better care of them they woulda lived.  In all these years, no one had ever said it wasn’t her fault, that she’d done all anyone could have done. 

“Shh, Annie,” Hoss comforted his wife, her sobs muffled into his chest.  So this was why she tried so hard.  Tried so hard to take care of everything and everyone.  “I know you done what you could, Annie.  Shhh,” he breathed to her, rubbing her back as he held her close.
Chapter 14
*********

“Hey, Miz Simpson!” Hoss greeted the woman on the porch as he reined the wagon in at the Simpson ranch.

“Why, Hoss and Annie Cartwright, how nice to see you!” Mrs. Simpson answered, stepping off the porch to greet the pair, her month-old child in her arms.  “What’re you doing out all this way?” she asked, looking up from the ground at them.

“Well, Annie brung ya some vitals and I brought this here lumber for yer husband,” Hoss answered, jerking his head towards the wagonload of wood behind him.  “It was just going to waste back at the Ponderosa and I figured yer man could make use of it.  My Pa said to tell ya he’s gots lots more if yer aneedin’ it,” Hoss explained.

“Why, that’s mighty neighbourly of you. My husband’s out working in the north pasture but I know he’ll be thankin’ you too,” Mrs. Simpson said, looking from Hoss to Annie, appreciation in her voice.  These were good people, these Cartwrights.  Turning back to Hoss, she nodded her head at the wagon, “You tell yer Pa thanks kindly and I hope we can return the favour someday.”

“Now don’t you go worryin’ about that, ma’am,” Hoss said, jumping down from the wagon, as Annie scooted across the wagon seat towards him, rising slightly to lean down towards him, arms outstretched.  Reaching up his hands, Hoss lifted her down, swinging her around to set her on the ground, before reaching into the back of the wagon to lift out Annie’s basket of food.  Moving forward, Annie took the basket from his hands.  “Here Hoss, I’ll take that in ter the house,” said, eyeing him pointedly.  Nodding his understanding of her silent communication to start unloading the lumber, he moved to the back of the wagon as the two women turned into the house.

Letting down the back panel of the wagon, Hoss called, “Okay, Skeeter, come on down boy!”  At his master’s command, Skeeter rose from his place on a blanket in the corner of the wagon away from the lumber, his tail wagging excitedly as he moved to the end of the buckboard.  He paused a moment to receive Hoss’s affectionate and enthusiastic petting before nipping past him to jump down onto the ground.  “Now don’t you go getting into any trouble,” Hoss chided cheerily to the animal.  “I got work to do,” he added, reaching to pull the first slab of lumber from the back and turning to pile it by the side of the barn.

Watching the big man from the his hiding place in the bush at the side of the house, young Davey Simpson’s interest had been piqued when he saw the man call his dog to him.  Spying the dog’s body and wagging tail over the sides of the buckboard as the man petted him, Davey sensed the animal’s friendly demeanour.  But his interest soon turned to wonder as he watched the animal jump from the wagon to the ground.  Why, the dog only had three legs! he stared in shock at the sight.  As the big man continued unloading the wagon, Davey watched as the curious dog moved forward to sniff the nooks and crannies of his surroundings, his gait peculiar and jerky.  First he sniffed the corner of the barn that the cats were always rubbing against, then over to the bush by the hitching post, then across the porch to sniff around the rocking chairs.  Moving to the edge of the house, Skeeter suddenly looked up, sniffing the air, his nostrils prickling with discovery.  Suddenly, he lunged towards his discovery, excitedly sniffing at the young boy’s legs as he crouched in the bush.

“Go away!” Davey hissed low to the animal, brushing the inquisitive animal away with his hand.  He didn’t want his hiding place to be discovered and this dog would draw attention to them both.  “Go away,” he hissed again as, ignoring the command, the dog propped his front leg onto the boy’s knees to reach up and lick his face, the dog’s tail waging mightily.  “Don’t you understand me?  I said go away!” Davey repeated his command angrily in frustration, trying to shield his face from the dog’s wet tongue.

“Hey, who’s there?” Davey heard a deep voice call out, suddenly close by.  He hadn’t seen the man approach them.  He’d been too busy trying to get the dog to leave.

“It’s me,” Davey confessed his whereabouts, standing and sidling out from the bush, limping slightly.  “Davey Simpson.”

“Why, Davey, I didn’t know you was there!” Hoss exclaimed mildly.  “I see you’ve met my dog Skeeter,” he observed, seeing that the dog was still yipping excitedly around the boy.

Looking warily down at the dog, Davey acknowledged, “Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Well, don’t let him bother you none,” Hoss instructed, turning slowly back towards the barn.  “He’s a real friendly dog and smart, too.  The smartest dog I got,” Hoss bragged over his shoulder, neglecting to mention Skeeter was the ONLY dog he had.

“But…but…,” Davey sputtered at Hoss’s obvious admiration of the dog, as he moved forward to limp hesitantly after him.

“But what?” Hoss stopped and turned back to the child.

“But…but he’s only got three legs!” the child exclaimed, pointing out the obvious. 

“Oh, yeah,” Hoss acknowledged, scratching his neck.  “I kinda forget that sometimes,” he confessed.

Eyeing the dog as he moved off in search of other scents, Davey asked, some hesitation in his voice, “How’d he…I mean…what happened to him?”

“Well, I’ll tell ya….,” Hoss trailed off, moving over to sit on the porch stoop as Davey came to sit beside him, peering up at him.  “Ole Skeeter here got hisself caught in one of them bear traps.  By the time I found him, well…..,” Hoss hesitated, “….well, it was too late to save his leg.  But Skeeter, he don’t let it stop him none.”

Absorbing the man’s words, Davey turned his head to peer over at the dog.  Skeeter was chasing a colourful butterfly as it fluttered over a nearby bush.  No, Davey thought, he didn’t seem to be bothered by his loss.  He almost acted liked he didn’t know.  Didn’t know he was different from other dogs.  “I guess…I guess it musta hurt.  When he lost his leg, I mean,” Davey pondered aloud.

Nodding his head in remembrance, Hoss answered honestly, “Yeah, Davey, it hurt a lot.”  Thinking a minute, Hoss added, “But you know, there’s two kinds of pain, Davey.  There’s the physical pain when your body is ahurtin’ and there’s the other kind of pain, when it’s yer insides that are hurtin’.  Skeeter had the physical pain, alright, but he don’t hurt on the inside.”

“What?” Davey asked, puzzled by his words.

Thinking a moment how to better express his thoughts, Hoss continued, “Skeeter don’t hurt on the inside because he don’t let losing his leg stop him from doing what he wants ta.  If he did, well, then, I reckon he’d be hurtin’ on the inside, wouldn’t he?”

A thoughtful look on his face, Davey nodded slowly in understanding, beginning to realise Mr. Cartwright wasn’t just talking about his dog now.  “But Skeeter don’t have…he don’t have other dogs making fun of him,” Davey countered.

“That’s true, Davey,” Hoss acknowledged.  “Skeeter don’t have that.  But it’d shore be a shame if he let what the other dogs were doin’ stop him from doin’ what he wanted ta.”  Deciding he’d made his point, Hoss quickly changed the subject. “Hey, do ya wanna see what he can do?” he asked, reaching down to pick up a stick laying on the ground.  Looking about him, he spotted an empty bucket, went to retrieve it and brought it back with him before sitting back down.  “Skeeter, come here boy!” he called as the dog obediently obeyed.  Reaching out his hand, Hoss cupped the dog’s jaw, meeting the dog’s eyes as he delivered his instructions.  Touching the stick lightly to the dog’s nose, Hoss said, “Fetch” before lowering the dog’s head so he gazed at the bucket on the ground next to him.  Touching the stick to the edge of the bucket, Hoss said, “Bucket” before releasing the dog to throw the stick across the yard. 

Watching the dog turn and race after the stick, Davey’s jaw dropped in amazement.  He was fast, Skeeter was.  As fast as any of the dogs the boys at school had.  His somewhat jerky gait was smoothed out when he ran, as the dog cleverly swung his one front leg from side to side, like a rower first paddling one side of a canoe and then the other.  Reaching the stick, Skeeter grabbed it between his teeth, turning on a dime and racing back towards the porch.  Pulling up to a stop in front of the bucket, he dropped the stick inside before looking up expectantly at the humans, his tongue hanging crookedly out the side of his mouth as he panted from exertion and excitement.

“He did it!” Davey cried out in amazement.

“Why, shore he did,” Hoss chuckled at the boy’s reaction.  “I told you he was smart,” Hoss said, reaching out to pet and praise the animal.  Reaching into the bucket, Hoss retrieved the stick.  Turning, he held it out to Davey.  “Here, you try it,” he suggested.

“Me?” Davey asked in surprise, taking the stick from Hoss’s hand. 

“Sure.  Just do what I did.  Only let’s make a little harder,” Hoss winked at Davey as he moved the bucket from the ground onto the porch behind them.  “Okay, go ahead,” he coaxed.

Turning to the dog, Davey repeated Hoss’s earlier actions.  “Fetch,” he said in a clear voice.  Turning he touched the stick to the bucket behind them. “Bucket,” he repeated, before facing forward to throw the stick.  Once again, Skeeter raced off after the hurled object, retrieving it expertly before turning back.  Coming up quickly to the two figures sitting side by side on the edge of the porch, Skeeter didn’t veer to go around them but stampeded between them, the two leaning apart laughingly when they realised his intent.  Dropping the stick into the bucket, Skeeter turned triumphantly back to the pair as Davey reached over to hug him.  “Good boy!” he exclaimed.  “What a good boy you are!” he said, running his hands over the dog’s glossy coat and laughing delightedly as Skeeter began licking his face.

“Come on, let me show you what else he can do,” Hoss smiled, standing to move away from the porch as the two new best friends followed behind.

***************

“I can’t thank you enough, Annie, fer coming over and fer the vitals you brung,” Sara Simpson thanked as the two women approached the front door, the baby asleep in her cot.

“Oh, yer welcome Sara.  It was my pleasure,” Annie replied, as Sara pulled open the door and the two women exited onto the porch.

“Well, just the same….,” Sara stopped midsentence, stunned by the sight of her son, Davey, playing in the yard with Hoss and his dog.  It wasn’t the sight of the big man playing with the child and dog that stunned her.  It wasn’t even the strange sight of the three-legged animal that confounded her.  No, it was seeing her son race about as they tossed a stick around.  Sara couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her son play like that.  He never liked to join in the games anyone was playing, not wanting to draw attention to his awkward gait.  But that wasn’t stopping him today.

“I’ll get it, Hoss!” Davey shouted laughingly as he and Skeeter both chased after the errant stick.  Skeeter reached it first but surprisingly he stopped before the stick, waiting patiently as Davey came up alongside him and stooped to retrieve it.  Turning, Davey threw it back towards Hoss as Skeeter bolted in pursuit.

“Well, I’ll be….,” Sara expelled her breath unbelievingly, marvelling still at the sight.

Seeing the women on the porch, Hoss tossed the stick back towards Davey.  “Here, Davey, you and Skeeter play by yerselves a bit,” he instructed, moving away to join the women.  Coming up alongside the two women, he turned, the three of them watching in silent reflection as the child and dog continued playing in the yard.

“Say, Miz Simpson, I wonder if I could ask a favour of ya?” Hoss spoke a moment later, breaking the silence.

Surprised, Sara tore her gaze away from her son to stare at the man.  “Why, of course you can!” she exclaimed, grateful to do anything to repay his kindness.

“Well, it’s about my dog, Skeeter,” Hoss began.

“Your dog?” Sara questioned.

“Yeah.  It’s like this.  See, I can’t spend much time with him.  Me being away most of the day.  And my boy, Buck, well, he’s too young yet to keep a dog like Skeeter busy so I was wondering….I was wondering if maybe you’d let Davey keep him,” Hoss suggested, as Annie stiffened in surprise next to him.  What was Hoss doing? she wondered.  Hoss loved that dog. 

Even more surprised, Sara answered, “Why of course Davey can keep him, if…if yer shore you want to part with him.”

Nodding, Hoss affirmed, “I’m shore.  Skeeter needs a boy like Davey to take care of him.”

“Hey, Ma!” Davey suddenly called over.  “Hey, Ma, come here and watch this!” he exclaimed excitedly.  Smiling, Sara Simpson left the porch to do her son’s bidding.

Staring silently up at her husband as he looked out at the activity in the yard, Annie felt her heart swell.  What a good, kind man he was, this man she had married.

Feeling his wife’s eyes on him, Hoss turned to look at her, inhaling sharply at what he read in her eyes.  “Annie?” he questioned.

“Hoss Cartwright, I love you!” Annie told him, thinking of the other things she would tell him later.  The simple declaration would do for now.

“Aww, Annie,” Hoss shuffled bashfully at his wife’s recognition of his selfless act.  “Seems like those two were just meant to be together,” he observed, reaching out to hook his arm around his wife.  “Come on, let’s go home.”
Chapter 15
*********

“Hey, Hop Sing,” Hoss greeted the Chinese cook as he entered the ranch house a week later.  Looking about the room, Hoss asked, “Hey, where’s Annie, Hop Sing?”

“Miz Cartwright laying down,” Hop Sing succinctly informed him.  “Good thing, too!  She work too hard,” Hop Sing grumbled at Hoss before he turned from the room.

Annie laying down? Hoss wondered at this information, his brow furrowed in puzzlement.  Annie never took a nap in the middle of the day.  Never.  Well, just those few other times when she was…..Suddenly a delighted grin appeared on Hoss’s face and he turned to head up the stairs.  Coming up to the slightly ajar bedroom door, Hoss pushed it opened and entered the room.  Annie was taking a nap, alright, he grinned at the sight of his wife fast asleep on top of the blankets on their bed.  Moving close he crouched next to her as she lay on her side.  He just wanted a moment to look at her and then he’d quietly leave, he told himself.  He missed her so much when he was gone through the day.  Like her good cooking fed his body, Annie fed his soul and he never could wait to come home again and take his fill.

Her eyelids fluttering open, instinctively sensing her husband’s presence, Annie breathed his name, “Hoss….”

“Annie, I’m sorry,” Hoss apologized in a whisper.  “I didn’t mean to wake ya.”

Rousing herself more fully, Annie pushed herself up on her arms.  “No, Hoss, I should get up,” she chided herself for falling asleep.  She’d only meant to rest for a moment or two.  But she was just so tired.  Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Annie paused, not feeling quite right.

From his crouched position next to her, Hoss looked at Annie’s face, wondering if his suspicion was right.  Carefully phrasing the words, he probed, “I was surprised when Hop Sing told me you was laying down, Annie.  You don’t usually lay down in the daytime, Annie.  You only ever did jist that one other time.”

Looking sharply at her husband and his implied question, Annie was quick to correct him, a blush coming to her cheeks, “No, Hoss.  I[‘m not…I’m not…No, Hoss,” she repeated, shaking her head, “I’m not carryin’.”

“Then why are you….,” Hoss trailed off, worried now, as he reached a hand to her face.  She was warm, too warm.  Frowning now, he pushed her back against the pillows, Annie too weak to protest.  “Annie, yer sick.  You jist lie there for a bit,” he ordered, moving to the door to yell downstairs. “PA!….HOP SING!” he shouted, trying to control the panic he felt rising inside him.  Annie was sick.  For the first time since he’d known her, Annie was sick.  The words rose up to repeat mercilessly in his head, Annie was sick, Annie was sick, only to be stifled by another thought, another word.  A word more frightening than the others.

Fever.
Chapter 16
*********

Going out the back door later that night after the doctor had been summoned to the ranch house, Hoss moved out into the night, feeling the night surround him, hearing the night sounds and breathing the night air.  Stopping a short distance away from the house, he raised his hand to rest on a tree as he turned to look up at the sky, the light of the stars staring back at him.  Taking a deep breath, he spoke, the words coming from his lips and his heart to, he prayed, God’s ears.

“Lord, I know I ain’t much of a regular churchgoer and I know it’s been a while since I prayed to ya but I’m asking fer yer help now,” he began, his voice barely a whisper.  “I’m asking ya ter help my Annie.  She’s…she’s in a bad way.”  Shaking his head, he pleaded, “Annie, she ain’t never done no harm to no one.  Why, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.  She’s a good woman, Lord, but I reckon you already know that.”  Pausing a moment, Hoss swallowed before continuing, “You can’t mean to take her.  Not yet.  Please God.  I ain’t…I ain’t asking jist fer me…it’s fer Buck too.  He needs his Ma.  He’s jist a little’un yet.”  Running his hand down the length of the tree to support himself, Hoss sank onto his knees and lowered his head.  “I’ll do whatever you want me ter.  Anything.  Jist…jist let me have my Annie a while longer.  You see, there’s things I promised her, Lord.  Things I ain’t had a chance ter do yet.  You know she allus wanted a cabin by the lake.  Give me a chance, Lord, give me a chance ter build it for her.  Don’t take her yet,” Hoss pleaded, his shoulders beginning to shake as sobs racked his body.  “Please God,” he choked the words out between the sobs.

“Don’t take her yet.”
Chapter 17
*********

Opening her eyes slowly, Annie took a deep breath.  Turning her head slightly, she saw her husband slumped in the chair close to the bed.  “Hoss,” she called out, her voice soft.

Immediately looking up at his wife’s utterance, Hoss leaned close to the bed.  “Annie? Annie?” he queried.  “How’re ya doing, Annie?” he asked in urgent tones.

“I…I think I’m alright, Hoss,” Annie reassured him.  “What…what happened?”

“You had the fever, Annie,” Hoss informed her.  “You had the fever real bad, Annie,” he told her, reaching his hand out to feel her forehead.  “But it’s gone now, Annie,” he reassured them both.

Reaching up to feel her own face with the back of her hand and feeling the coolness of her skin, Annie sighed a little in relief.  Letting her hand slid away from her face onto the pillow next to her head, Annie was startled to feel the spikey ends of her shorn hair.  “Hoss!” she cried out in alarm.  “Hoss!  What happened to my hair?” she asked, her hand running over the short choppy tendrils on her head.

“Annie…Annie…,” Hoss soothed.  “We had to cut your hair, Annie.  The fever, Annie…,” he tried to explain.

“Ohhh!” Annie cried in dismay, just imagining what she must look like.  Bringing her  arm up over her face, she hid her eyes in the crook of her elbow as she turned her head away, trying to shield herself from her husband’s eyes.  “Don’t look, Hoss.  Don’t look at me,” she pleaded.

“Annie…Annie, honey,” Hoss tenderly rebuked, gently prying her arm down from her face.  “Don’t you know how wonderful you look to me?” he asked.  “Don’t you know?”

Slowly Annie turned her head to meet her husband’s eyes, her own filled with unshed tears.  “Really? Really, Hoss?” she asked, doubting his words.

A tender smile on his face, Hoss reached out to touch the wayward locks of his wife’s hair, brushing them smooth to the side of her head.  “Really, Annie,” he answered, his voice firm.  “Why yer jist the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, Annie.  And that’s the honest truth,” Hoss declared.

A tremulous smile touching her lips, Annie shyly replied, “Well, if you say so, Hoss,” feeling reassured that maybe she wasn’t such a ghastly sight after all, or at least Hoss didn’t think so.

“I say so, Annie,” Hoss affirmed.

Chapter 18
*********

“Well, I know he’s a good doctor,” Katherine commented critically, eyeing her sister-in-law’s head a day later as Annie sat up in bed leaning slightly forward, “but he’d make a very sorry barber.”  As Annie chuckled at the observaton, Katherine reached over from her place beside her with the scissors to snip an uneven chunk of hair.  “But we’ll have this all straightened out soon,” she soothed, continuing her task as Annie bore her ministrations docilely.

Suppressing a tsk, Katherine continued working over her sister-in-law’s hair.  At the height of Annie’s fever the doctor had ruthlessly chopped off her thick braid of hair, leaving the remnants jagged and spiked on her head.  Combing the wayward tendrils smooth, Katherine trimmed a fresh cut line, evening out the discrepancies.

The task complete, Katherine pulled back to survey her work.  “You know, it’s kind of cute that way,” she complimented her sister-in-law’s shorn but now-consistent locks, falling no further than chin-length around the perimeter of her head.  “Maybe I should cut my hair too,” Katherine remarked admiringly.

“Katherine!” Annie laughed at the baldfaced lie.  “Don’t ya dare cut off yer beautiful hair!”

“But Annie,” Katherine continued, bolstering her sister-in-law, “it looks so nice on you.  And think how cool it’ll be in the summer.”

“But what would Adam say?” Annie voiced her opinion that Adam wouldn’t want his wife to cut her hair.

“Adam?” Katherine snorted, before dropping her voice conspiratorially.  “In case you haven’t noticed, Annie, I don’t let what Adam would say stop me from doing what I want to.”

Laughing in agreement over that, having witnessed a few of those aforementioned instances herself, Annie said gratefully, “Oh, Katherine, yer jist what I needed today!” already feeling vastly cheered by her sister-in-law’s presence, as the two women smiled at each other.

Jolting with a sudden remembrance, Katherine said, “Oh, Annie, I just remembered.  I brought something for you,” as she reached into her skirt pocket to pull out a tissue wrapped object.  Seeing her sister-in-law’s quizzical gaze, Katherine unwrapped the object in her hand, revealing a pair of tortoise shell haircombs.  As Annie gasped at the sight, Katherine said, “I want you to have these, Annie.”

“Katherine, I couldn’t,” Annie said, refusing the gift.  “They’re…they’re too expensive,” she objected, noting the small jewels embedded on the back edges of the combs.

“But Annie, I didn’t buy them,” Katherine informed her, refuting her objection.  “They were my grandmother’s and then my mother’s and then mine, and now I’d like you to have them.”

“But Katherine!” Annie protested, even more shocked and appalled.  “Surely you don’t want them to go outta the family?”

Eyeing her sister-in-law pointedly, Katherine remarked, “Annie, they’re not going out of the family.  I want my sister to have them.”

Frozen in shock at her words, Annie sat mutely as Katherine reached over to thread first one and then the other comb into the hair on the sides of her head.  “There,” Katherine said in satisfaction as she pulled back to survey the result.  Reaching over to the mirror on the nightstand, she brought it before Annie.  “There, see how nice you look,” she complimented.

“Oh, Katherine,” Annie breathed on a whisper, tilting her head from side to side as she admired the dainty combs and their softening effect on her severely shorn hair.  “I don’t rightly know what to say,” she said, overwhelmed by the gesture.

“Well, just say you’ll take them,” Katherine supplied matter-of-factly.

Nodding her head imperceptibly in acceptance as she continued to stare in the mirror, Annie replied, “Okay…okay Katherine, if yer shore.”

A pleased smile on her face, Katherine affirmed, “I’m sure, Annie.” 

Looking up from the mirror to meet her sister-in-law’s eyes, Annie said, her voice tentative, “Thank you…thank you, Katherine.”

“No, thank YOU, Annie,” Katherine countered, as the two women stared silently at each other, understanding that it wasn’t a gift of combs they’d exchanged today.  No, they’d given each other another gift.  Given each other something neither of them had had in their lives before.

A sister.
****************
Leaning against the wall just around the corner from the bureau by the front door of the Ponderosa ranch house, his arms crossed high on his chest, Adam eyed his wife quizzically as she stood nearby pulling on her gloves. 

“Are you ready to go, Adam?” Katherine asked, looking up at him, wondering at his inactivity.

Straightening away from the wall, Adam moved closer to his wife, reaching out to take her hands in his and effectively stilling her movements.  “I think Annie appreciated what you did today, Katherine.  The way you fixed her hair,” he began, as Katherine stared up at him, wondering what he was getting at.  “And your grandmother’s combs sure looked nice too,” he added meaningfully, proud of his wife’s generosity.

Oh, so he’d noticed that she’d given Annie those combs, did he? Katherine shuffled uncomfortably.  Thinking to defend her actions, that maybe Adam would have wanted her to keep the combs to give to Beth someday, Katherine maintained, “I only gave them to her because of what you told me, Adam.”

“What?” Adam asked, surprised.

“You know,” Katherine reminded him, “after I broke your mother’s music box.  You told me that people were more important than things.  Isn’t that what you said, Adam?” 

Staring down into his wife’s eyes as she stared back up at him, her eyes wide as she awaited his answer, Adam nodded slowly, even more proud of her actions now.  Pulling her close towards him, he wrapped his arms tightly about her.

“Adam!” Katherine exclaimed as she stared up at him, startled at the spontaneous act, especially here by the ranch house door where anyone could walk in on them.

“Shut up, Katherine,” Adam growled low, feeling a sudden overwhelming urge to kiss his wife.

Lowering his head, his did just that.

Chapter 19
*********

“Can I do anything fer ya, Annie?” Hoss asked later that day.

“Well,” Annie hesitated, eyeing the bottle of essence Katherine had left for her, “I wouldn’t mind a bath, Hoss….maybe with some of this here bath oil?”

“Why, shore, Annie,” Hoss was pleased to do whatever Annie wanted.  “I’ll just go on down and see about the water.”  Getting up from his place next to the bed, he headed to the door, turning at the threshold to remark teasingly, “Now don’t you go nowheres.”

Smiling a little, Annie replied, “Don’t worry, Hoss.  I won’t.”

“Good,” Hoss winked at his wife and turned again, disappearing out the door.

Fifteen minutes later the tub filled with water near the foot of the bed and a generous dose of bath oil liberally poured into it, Hoss turned to his wife.  “It’s all ready for you, Annie,” he informed her, approaching the bed.  Watching as his wife sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed, he questioned, “Do you want me to stay and….,” he trailed off, not sure if his help was wanted.

Shaking her head as she sat on the edge of the bed, Annie replied, “No, Hoss.  I’ll be fine.  Thanks,” declining his help, as she slid her body down to the foot of the bed.  Pausing to rest a second, her hand clasped around the poster, Annie took a deep breath, muscling her strength for the task ahead. 

“You’re shore yer okay, Annie?” Hoss hesitated, uncertain as he watched his wife’s movements.

Nodding her head, Annie tried to stand, wanting to show Hoss she was up for the task.  Her legs not co-operating with her mind, Annie barely raised herself a few inches off the bed before she quickly sat back against the bed, expelling her breath in surprise at her weakness, just that little effort having exhausted her.  Couldn’t she even manage that little bit? she berated herself, as tears of frustration welled in her eyes. Oh, how she hated this.  To be weak, like this.  Especially in front of Hoss. 

Seeing his wife’s inability to rise, Hoss crouched low in front of her, placing a finger to her chin to raise her downcast face.  Meeting her eyes, he saw her as yet unshed tears.  “I can help ya, Annie.  I can help ya, if you’ll let me,” Hoss offered tenderly, his tone gentle.

Seeing the gentleness and caring of the man before her, Annie replied, nodding slightly as she confessed, “I guess I’ll need some help after all, Hoss.  I…I’m as weak as a kitten.”

“Well, you jist let me be strong for the both of us, Annie,” Hoss stated firmly.  Nodding slightly again, Annie looked down to unbutton the row of small pearl-like buttons at the front of her nightgown as Hoss rolled up his sleeves.  Her task completed, Annie reached down to her knees, pulling the hem of her gown up her body. Pausing when the material bunched at her thighs, she looked over at Hoss, not sure what to do next. 

Seeing his wife’s hesitation, Hoss instructed, “Okay, Annie, lift up just a little and we’ll have this offa ya in no time,” as he reached out to clasp the bunched material in his hands.  Doing as requested, Annie raised herself slightly off the mattress as Hoss stood and  raised the gown up past her waist.  Sinking back to the mattress, Annie raised  her arms over her head as Hoss tugged the material up over her arms and discarded it onto the bed.  Her eyes cast down in embarrassment over state of undress, Annie brought her arms before her, her hands cupped together under her chin, feeling vulnerable and exposed.  This was silly to feel like this, she chided herself.  He was her husband, she reminded herself, even as she realized that all her rational self-talk was doing little to relieve her embarrassment.

Seeing his wife’s unease, Hoss moved quickly, not wanting her to be uncomfortable for long.  Scooping her up gently into her arms, he turned towards the bathtub.  Kneeling down on one knee before the tub, he leaned forward to gently lower his wife into the water.  “It’s not too hot, is it?” he asked, his tone matter-of-fact.

“No-o, Ho-ss,” Annie stammered.  “It feels good,” she admitted as Hoss lowered her more fully into the tub.  The soothing warmth of the water enveloping her, Annie sighed with pleasure, leaning her head back against the edge of the tub as Hoss pulled his arms from beneath her.   “I…I think I’m okay now, Hoss,” Annie informed her husband, still a little embarrassed and wanting a little privacy.  “I…I’m okay now….,” she repeated, trailing off.

Understanding his wife’s unspoken request, Hoss nodded, “Annie, I’ll be just outside the door.  You need anything, you just holler, okay?”

“Okay, Hoss,” Annie replied in relief that he wasn’t going to insist on staying while she bathed.

“And don’t you go drowning on me now,” Hoss warned as he got up.  “I ain’t having you git through the fever jist to up and drown on me,” he admonished teasingly.

Smiling back, her awkwardness alleviated by the humour, Annie replied, “I promise not to drown, Hoss,” as she watched her husband get up and head to the door.

Leaving the door slightly ajar, Hoss moved to the other side of the door. Eyeing the hallway, he spotted a chair just outside one of the other bedroom doors.  Moving towards it, he picked it up and carried it back and placed it just outside Annie’s door.  Sitting down he settled himself, intending to wait until Annie finished bathing and needed his help again.

Annie took a deep breath as she relaxed in the soothing water, her hands paddling the water into swirls around her.  Reaching for the nearby soap, she began to lather up.  Oh, it felt so good.  The water.  The clean fresh smell of soap.  The warmth seeping into her tired, weary body.

“How’re ya doing, Annie?” Hoss called gently from his spot by the door, the merest hint of worry in his tone.

Smiling at her husband’s concern, Annie replied, “I’m jist fine, Hoss.”

“Well, I’m jist here if you need me, Annie,” he reaffirmed.

“I know, Hoss,” Annie said.  “Thank you, Hoss,” she shyly spoke her gratitude, both for his patience and his understanding that she wanted this time alone.  Continuing to bathe until the water began to get uncomfortably cool, Annie finally called out, “Hoss, I’m all done.”

Entering the room and closing the door behind him, Hoss moved to the bed.  Unfolding a thick blanket from the foot of the bed, he spread it out over the mattress and down the edge of the bed before turning back to Annie.  Crouching low before the tub, he put his arms into the water, one below Annie’s knees and one behind her back before rising to a stand.  “I’m getting you all wet, Hoss,” Annie apologized, seeing the water marks on her husband’s clothes as she reached an arm up around his neck.

“Don’t you worry none about that, Annie,” Hoss chided her as he moved over to the bed and set her down so she sat on the edge of the bed over the outstretched blanket.  Pulling back a little, he released her from his hold.  Seeing his wife’s shivers as the cool air of the room touched her wet skin, he moved quickly, lifting the edges of the blanket around her and wrapping her, mummy-like, in its warmth.  Crouching low to the ground, he secured the ends of the blanket around her feet, so that, except for her head, not an inch of her was exposed to the room’s chill.  Running his hands up and down her legs and then up and down her arms to dry her, he asked, worry in his voice, “You’re not cold, are you Annie?”

Her teeth chattering a little, Annie denied, “I-I’m not co-old,” as Hoss met her eyes at the untruth. 

“Don’t worry, Annie, you’ll be warm and toasty in jist a minute,” Hoss told her, reaching for another blanket and wrapping it around the first, working quickly and diligently to warm his wife.  Suddenly Hoss scooped Annie up into his arms again, as she let out a little ooh of surprise.  Moving with her, he settled himself into the oversize rocking chair, nestling her sideways on his lap, his arms wrapped around her.  Stroking her arm and side as he gently rocked, he asked, concern in his voice, “Are you warm yet, Annie?”

Answering truthfully this time from the warm cocoon surrounding her, Annie replied, “Yes, Hoss, I’m warm.”

“Good,” Hoss grunted in satisfaction as Annie snuggled deeper against him, her ear pressed to his chest.

Suppressing a small giggle, Annie confessed, “I feel like a little girl again, Hoss.”

“You do?” Hoss asked with mock surprise.  “Funny, you don’t feel like a little girl to me, Annie,” he teased.

Giggling outright now, Annie answered, “No, I mean the way you’re holding me and rocking me.  I feel like a little girl on my Pa’s knee again.”

“Is that right, Annie?” Hoss asked tenderly, as Annie nodded into his chest.  A small silence fell between them as Hoss continued rocking, his hand stroking the length of her arm.

Breaking the silence a moment later, Annie observed, “Yes, this reminds me of when I was little girl.  Only my Pa would tell me a story while we rocked.”

“A story?” Hoss repeated.  “Well, I ain’t much for storytelling, Annie, but I could try if’n you want me to.”

Annie shook her head.  “You don’t have to tell me a story, Hoss, but could you…could you keep talking?  I like the sound of yer voice.  I…I like listening to the way it rumbles inside ya when I’m sitting like this,” she told him, her ear pressed to his chest as she snuck her hand out from inside her cocoon to press it palm flat to his chest, wanting to feel the rumbles now too.

“Well…,” Hoss began, smiling a little to think he ‘rumbled’, wondering what to say now that she’d asked him to keep talking.  Never having done much reading, he didn’t have a lot of stories to draw on.  What could he talk about? he wondered.  Slowly, hesitantly, he began.  “Well, yesterday I was up to the creek, Annie, and I saw a mama bear rastling with her cubs.  If it weren’t about the cutenest thing I ever did see….” he trailed off at the remembrance.  “And winter’s comin’, Annie, you can smell it in the air and see it in the trees.  All them different colours, Annie.  The reds and the oranges.  I ain’t never seen colours like I done this year,” Hoss said in wonder, his quiet love of the land singing out reverently in his voice, as Annie relaxed against him, his words lulling her to a warm and tender place.  “Oh, and there was this one little kitten I found all by his lonesome out near the woodpile.  Now, how do you figure he got there all by hisself?  I looked around and never did see no mama so I brought him into the barn, Annie.  Gave him a little o’ that cream Hop Sing was saving up.  He shore did like that,” Hoss smiled with tenderness.

Smiling at her husband’s anecdotes and tilting her head to look up at him, Annie observed, “You know, Hoss, yer wrong.  You tell a real good story.”

Surprised and pleased at the compliment, Hoss looked down into his wife’s eyes.  “Well, it ain’t hard to talk about the things you love, Annie,” he told her.

Nodding her head in understanding, Annie acknowledged, “And you love it out here, don’t you, Hoss?” 

In answer Hoss stopped rocking, moving his hand from its place stroking her arm to rest it atop his wife’s, his large hand dwarfing hers as it lay on his chest over his heart.  “There’s things I love more, Annie,” he told her, staring deeply into her eyes.  His voice dropping to a mere whisper, he added, “I love you best of all, Annie.”

Sucking in her breath at the surprise declaration, Annie managed to breathe the words, “Oh, Hoss,” before  her husband lowered his head to seal his declaration with a kiss.
Chapter 20
*********

“Hoss,” Jenny rapped softly on the bedroom door before poking her head inside.  “Hoss, there’s some people downstairs.  What should I tell them?” Jenny asked her brother-in-law as he moved away from Annie’s bedside towards her. 

“Some folks?” Hoss asked on a whisper, not wanting to wake Annie.  “What do they want, Jenny?”  At Jenny’s slight shrug, Hoss followed her out the door, taking a final look at his sleeping wife before leaving.

Following Jenny to the landing, Hoss froze in surprise as he looked down on the great room below.  Why there must be twenty or thirty folks here.  What did they all want? he wondered.  Moving down the stairs to where his father stood on the first landing, Hoss came beside him to ask, a puzzled expression on his face, “Pa…Pa…what’re all these folks doing here?”

Looking at his son, Ben Cartwright wondered that he didn’t know the reason.  But then Hoss was too genuine and unassuming to ever guess.  “They’re here because Annie was sick, Hoss.  They’re here because they want to show their support for you and Annie.”

Swallowing hard at this piece of information, Hoss turned to look at the various people, identifying them one by one.  The Simpsons were here, all four of them, and by the look of Davey’s dishevelled shirt, Skeeter was likely just outside.  And then there was Sam Whitman from the store and some of the ranch hands, Digger Jones and Frank Diemert, Doc Martin was here with his wife, and even Hop Sing’s cousin from town, and weren’t those the Shepherd sisters?  Annie had brought them vitals for a week when they’d both come down with the flu at the same time.  And the Connor family was here too.  Why it was just a couple of months ago Annie and him had stopped by and while Annie’d visited with the womenfolk he’d helped the menfolk repair their fence line that the storm had knocked down.  There were even some folks here he didn’t know and it suddenly occurred to Hoss that Annie had been up to a few things even he didn’t know about. 

Stunned by the outpouring of concern, Hoss moved slowly down the stairs till he reached the bottom.  The people in the room moved close to him, offering their support as they did so.

“I was sorry to hear your Annie took sick, Hoss.  I’m glad she’s doing better now,” Mrs. Simpson offered.  “I brung ya some vitals in case Annie don’t feel like cooking fer a while.”

“Yer wife allus been so nice to us ranch hands, Hoss,” Digger Jones piped in.  “Why my joints ain’t felt this good in years,” he observed.  “Musta been all that funny tea she gave me.”

“If there’s anything we can do to help out, Hoss, you just let us know,” one of the Shepherd sisters cut in.  “Your Annie was mighty good to us when we was both doing poorly that time.”

Raising his hands to halt the flow of support and offers of help, Hoss cut in, shaking his head still not believing what he was seeing. “Could…could you folks wait here jist a minute?” he asked, before turning to head back up the stairs.

“Hoss?” Ben enquired as his son made to go past him.

“I’m gonna get Annie, Pa.  She ain’t gonna miss this,” he stated firmly, knowing nothing would make Annie feel better faster than to know so many folks cared about her, that she not only had a family now that cared about her, she had a whole dang community of folks.

Nodding curtly to his father, Hoss turned to head resolutely up the stairs to wake his wife.
Chapter 21
*********

Leaning against the fireplace a few months later, Annie watched her husband as he roughhoused with their son Buck, a small smile on her face.

“GRRRR,” Hoss rumbled as he approached the child on all fours, “I’m a hungry bear!  GRRRR!  And I’m gonna eat you up!!” he threatened, as fifteen-month old Buck squealed in delight and tottered out of his way.  “GRRR!” Hoss lumbered toward the child, chasing him around the low table, as Buck ran to his mother’s skirts, laughing delightedly.  “I can still see you!!” Hoss roared, as the child pretended to hide in the voluminous folds of Annie’s skirts.

Watching the scene unfold, Annie couldn’t help smiling.  Her own childhood ending abruptly at age ten, it was a pleasure to relive a small part of her childhood through Buck, even if it was as a spectator. 

Looking up at his wife as he neared the pair, Hoss inhaled sharply as he read his wife’s eyes.  A look of longing, of envy, of wistfulness, lurked in their dark depths.  Reaching up he pulled Annie down onto the ground beside him and Buck.

“Hoss!” Annie cried out in surprise.

“GRRR!  I’m a hungry bear!” Hoss growled in reply, continuing the game.  “And I’m hungry enough fer both of ya!” he roared the announcement, wrapping his arms around them both and wrestling them to the ground, amid Buck’s shrieks of laughter.

Shrieking joyously herself, Annie tore away from her husband, crawling her way to escape.  “Get her, Buck!” Hoss growled, recruiting his son to his side as Buck hurled himself at his mother’s retreating figure, knocking her over as they both laughingly tumbled to the floor. 

“GRRR!” Hoss roared, coming up on the pair.  “I’ve got you now!” he boomed, pinning his arms over the pair, Annie on her back with Buck atop her. 

“You win! You win, Hoss!” Annie conceded laughingly, knowing defeat was at hand.  “Jist eat Buck first!” she choked out traitoriously amid peels of laughter.

Pretending to chomp on Buck’s shoulder, Hoss chewed noisily, “Yum, yum, yum!!” as Buck squealed and rolled to his mother’s side.  “You’re next, Annie!” Hoss roared, leaning in for the feast.  Changing tactics at the last second, he suddenly brought his lips to hers, startling her with his kiss, the laughter on her lips suddenly swallowed by his touch.

The kiss continuing a moment or two, Buck reached over impatiently to tap his father’s cheek with the flat of his hand.  Pulling away from his wife, Hoss looked over at his son.  “Why you…!  I ain’t done with you yet!” he roared, reaching his hands over to scoop Buck up, the child shrieking in delight, as Hoss rolled them both away.

Watching her husband and son as they continued to play on the floor, Annie sighed contentedly. 

Life didn’t get any better than this, she thought.  It just didn’t get any better than this.

THE END
 

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