Synopsis: We all know Adam left the ranch, never to return. We all probably know a story line or two that would have encouraged him to return for an occasional episode.
Rating: PG
Words:  13,800

After the Fall Series:

After the Fall
Bloody Peace

---

The Brandsters acknowledge that the authors are the owners of their stories.  Should an author included in the project reach out to us and indicate they do not wish their work to be archived in the Bonanza Brand Fanfiction Library, we will remove their stories.  We would also be happy to change the e:mail address for any authors who wish to continue to have their stories archived in the Library.

---

Author’s Note:  I wrote this story back in 1992, my first attempt at writing a Bonanza story, and it has been updated to be a continuation of “After the Fall,” per a Bonanza friend’s request. This is its first appearance since its publication in a fanfic magazine back in 1993.

 

BLOODY PEACE

Ben Cartwright sat alone at the breakfast table in an unusually quiet house. No clanks of silver on the stoneware, no clamor of hungry sons reaching for the last biscuit, no stories of drovers wrestling in the mud with mavericks that needed branding or of training new herd dogs for spunky cattle without getting them trampled.

He had been allowed to sleep in this late August morning and felt poorly about it. Too often because of the rigors of running the ranch he missed out on the company of his sons. Adam usually had something humorous to say about his brothers’ follies, which could be, Ben would admit, quite funny. Hoss would grin in that fetching way of his and end up saying something profound that would surprise even him. Joe – ah, that youngest son, he had the confoundest way of saying the most outrageous thing just to start an argument. But when you came right down to it, regardless of their differences they all worked together as one unit, sharing a heartbeat that stayed in place where it belonged – on the Ponderosa.

Ben loved every minute of their life as a family, the arguments, the tumbles, the fights – although sometimes he wished his boys could duck those bullets and fists a little faster. There was no denying life was dangerous out here, and he came close to losing each of them more than once. Whenever the house was too quiet his nerves flamed, wondering what they were up to. He had been left to sleep in this morning because he had only just recovered from the ague.

Hop Sing bustled in with more coffee. “Feeling much better now, Mr. Cartlight?”

“Oh much, thank you, Hop Sing.” Ben dug into his eggs. “Has the hole out back been properly covered?” They didn’t move the outhouse all that often, but Ben saw to it that it was moved if anyone had just recovered from illness, to help prevent the spread of the illness.

“Oh yes, Mr. Cartlight. The boys choose short sticks and Mr. Hoss, he lose again.” Hop Sing chuckled and shook his head as he went back into the kitchen.

Ben chewed thoughtfully, trying to remember what the boys might be up to this morning, off on their own since he came down with the sickness several days ago. It wasn’t yet the end of the summer so roundup was weeks away. All the fences were mended that he knew of. A ranch this size could be a curse, just in trying to keep track. Of course, Ben chuckled to himself, the land didn’t change, just a man’s memory of it.

And they had just finished up another big timber contract and were preparing for fall tree planting season, moving saplings from one ground where they grew too tight to more open areas to increase their survival rate.

The boys. Ben’s appetite hadn’t returned a full plate’s worth so he sat back. No sense in worrying, they were grown men. How hard it was for a father to think of his sons as grown. Where has the time gone off to? He felt fortunate that they all seemed comfortable here, that they knew, once they married, that they could still make a home on the Ponderosa. Plenty of land and work for all of them.

But marriage has eluded them so far. Not that they hadn’t had chances, but Ben feared some inner concern they wouldn’t express kept stopping them. They’d all lost mothers, learning first hand how hard life could be on women out here. Still and all…

So quiet. Where could they be?

Ah yes, Joe had an inkling to look at that stallion of Johansen’s they considered unbreakable, Hoss was headed to town to pick up a couple more pups – in case the ones they had didn’t work out, he said. But he’d take any excuse to bring a pup home. And Adam was escorting the pretty young daughter of a Carson City lawyer to some northern town for some reason that escaped him still. The stage didn’t run as soon as she wanted – and she hated “stuffy bumpy stagecoaches anyway.”

She was a bit stuffy herself, Ben thought with a grin as he picked up his coffee. But Adam could do worse. She had a certain charm about her, and a month or two on the Ponderosa would rid her of the stuffiness.

Ben rubbed his forehead where an ache lingered. Adam’s kept himself very busy since his lost engagement to Laura. Ben wondered if he’s come to terms with it yet. Losing a family was never easy. Adam will probably always wonder what he could have done differently, picturing Laura and Will together, Will being father to Peggy, was Laura thinking about him, or Peggy missing him, at all? Ben felt just the slightest bit of remorse over his part in the whole thing. He saw it coming and he let it come. He should have told Laura the truth about the house – she could have acted surprised. But how does one hold on to a love that was never there to begin with? At least, not on her part. Ben still wasn’t sure if Adam really loved her, or only thought he did.

Adam, as his eldest, should be settled down by now, and Laura was as close as he’d come. There were others, of course, like that woman Ruth out on the Mountain of the Dead. Ben remember with great sorrow the month that Adam was gone looking for her and the tragic tale he told on his return. He never met Ruth himself, but Adam described her so well Ben knew he would have loved her himself.

Adam was now 36! And as handsome, cultured, and intelligent as Adam is, he naturally draws interest from women in town, but so far has found no reason to spark with any of them. Ben thought his eldest was too smart to allow one or two burnings to spoil him for good.

Aside from the tragedies they’d experienced, all too common here in the wilds of the west, it seemed that his boys just plum got cold feet. There weren’t enough gals out here, and that was a fact. One for every five men.

Not a lot of good the Ponderosa can do them with odds like that.

Ben quit rubbing his head and finished his coffee. His headache wasn’t going anywhere and his memory wasn’t returning. Adam told him something, but Ben must not have listened well. “Hop Sing!”

Hop Sing poked his head out, his face half covered in flour. Ben hid a laugh, hoping the Chinaman hadn’t sneeze in the dough. They couldn’t afford anyone else sick just now.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Gone to town, see Adam off.”

“How long…does Adam intend to be gone?” No way around it, Hop Sing was going to figure out that Ben’s memory was going.

“He not know. Will send word, maybe in a week.” When Hop Sing sensed Ben had no more questions, he went back into the kitchen.

A week? He’ll be gone more than a week? Ben pushed himself at the food again. With his eldest gone that long, he’d better get his strength back fast.

He didn’t acknowledge an inkling of fear, buried in the back of his head, but it was there all the same, masked by a lingering ache. Wherever Adam was going, Ben figured it was to forestall trouble. And the Cartwright luck couldn’t hold up forever. Ben lost count, purposefully, of the total number of bullet scars each of his sons carried. Their mothers could be getting weary of caring for them from beyond.

Since the half-brothers were headed to Virginia City for their errands anyway, they agreed to keep each other company. Adam wondered how much Hoss and Joe knew of the real reason for his errand. He had tried to tell Pa about it, having made up his mind about it only days before. But Pa hadn’t been in the mood to listen, and probably didn’t tell Hoss or Joe that something unusual for a Cartwright was in the wind.

“Say Adam, I hear tell this gal’s sweet on you,” Hoss said with a twinkle in his eye and a wink at Joe.

“Yeah Adam, talk in town is there’ll be a wedding on the Ponderosa before long.”

“Now shut up, the both of you. We’ve never actually kept company, so no one could be talking.” Adam had just about decided to tell them but their customary teasing – which they could have foregone, just this once! – changed his mind. They can find out in due course. He wasn’t sure how far he was going with his project of his, at any rate.

“Maybe not, older brother, but you have been known to jump whenever LizaSue needs a favor done.”

Adam pulled his horse up short and narrowed his eyes at Hoss. “You know, I get the feeling you’re jealous. Seems to me you were eyeing her up yourself when they first moved to town. Tell you what, you want her, you escort her on this trip.” His horse jumped away from the other two, kicking up a cloud of dust that settled unnoticed around Hoss and Joe.

“Hey, you don’t have to get so touchy!” Joe yelled after him.

“Ah, something’s been eating at him all morning. Reckon what it is?”

“I don’t know. Come on.” Together they rode, at fast cantor, to catch up to their brother.

The Cartwright brothers stopped in town at the International House for a cup of coffee. It was already warm for early morning in the late summer of ’65 and the restaurant was empty except for the Bonner brothers. They looked like they hadn’t slept the night before and had their coffee cups glued to their lips, as if holding that precious mineral water they called whiskey.

The Cartwrights walked to a table on the other side of the room. Ever since Adam nearly had them thrown in jail awhile back, they’ve avoided each other like the plague. And sure enough, a few minutes later, they were gone.

“Hi fellas! The usual?” Marge called from where she served coffee at another table.

“Yeah, thanks, Marge,” Joe said.

“And bring one of your terrific blueberry muffins too!”

“Gotcha, Hoss!” Marge said with a laugh.

The brothers sat in companionable silence, with Hoss and Joe looking everywhere but at their brother’s pensive hole-in-the-wall stare. At a distracting clatter outside Joe jumped up and looked out the window. “Looks like LizaSue is here, Adam.”

“She’ll wait.” Adam sat back as his mug of coffee was set in front of him, and picked it up.

“Yeah, I reckon she’s going to run inside the ladies’ parlor and tidy up after that long trip from D Street,” Hoss said with a chuckle over his own exaggeration.

“Hey Hoss,” Joe poked him, laughing. “Can you see Adam pulling over every mile so she can fix her bonnet?!”

They laughed but Adam didn’t join in. He studied the door to the street so hard it looked like he thought it was going to fall off its hinges. Hoss and Joe exchanged glances. They could reach each other’s thoughts, that Adam had mostly recovered physically from his fall – though now and again they’d catch him stretching his back out – but emotionally he wasn’t quite the same. And lately the Crow and Night Owl, the small Crow boy, was all he talked about. He visited them every chance he got. He wanted to get them moved onto Ponderosa land, but both Pa and the Crow were stubborn on that matter.

“Hey, Adam.” Hoss waited until Adam looked at him. “We won’t fun you anymore about LizaSue if it bothers you.”

Adam smiled. “It’s not that, Hoss. You know I can take as good as I give, most times. But…” he paused, shrugging off a wall of inconstant thought, and leaned forward. “You remember last week, when we found that Paiute shot and dumped on a dead cow carcass?”

“Yeah, we gave him a decent burial—.”

“Decent?” Adam turned to Joe. “Decent would have been bringing him back to his own people.”

“Oh, come on now, Adam, in the condition his body was in….”

Adam started to argue with Joe, but changed his mind and leaned back.

“And besides, how do you know he wasn’t killed by one of his own kind? Or caught stealing that cow?”

“It wasn’t one of his own kind. And that cow was dead longer.” Adam said with a finality that made Joe let it go.

“Say, Adam, how come all of a sudden it’s bothering you?” Hoss asked. “We’ve seen lots of it, whites and Indians not getting along, fighting each other since we was young’uns. It’s not getting better but it’s not any worse than it was.”

“Look, you remember those Indians who are living just off our north section of the Sierras, I stopped a posse from butchering them, and they stood their ground peaceably against the U.S. Army? Ever since then…” he picked a coin up off the table and twirled it. “There are things I could be doing besides cattle ranching. I can’t explain it any better than that.” He stood and drained his coffee. “Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back. After I drop off LizaSue I may ride to the fort and offer to sign on.”

“Sign on? As what?” Joe, as usual, wanted the comment in black and white.

“Ah, come on, Adam.” Hoss couldn’t look his brother in the eye but he knew by the tone of his voice, he was serious. Adam was getting an itch to get away from home. Hoss could see it coming for weeks now, but avoided looking it in the face.

“As Indian agent, Joe. I can help other tribes, find land peacefully where they can live as they want to live.” Adam finished his coffee and stood. “Indians shouldn’t be forced to treaty for land they don’t believe anyone can own, but all can share.”

“Wait a minute, you’re giving up ranching? Leaving the Ponderosa? Just like that?” Joe knew better than to raise his voice to his older brother when he was in a mood like this, but didn’t always stop and think about Adam’s mood before getting riled.

“Pa’s only going to let you give away so much of the Ponderosa, Adam. You can’t save every—.”

“I don’t mean it like that, Hoss.”

“So you’re going to just ride off and leave me and Hoss here to do all the work? While you go riding around being pals to the Indians? What good do you think that’ll do?”

“Joe, listen to me a minute—.”

“I remember when you went off to college, I was a kid and I believed I’d never see you again. I felt miserable until I finally decided, to hell with it, people die all the time but life still goes on. Then you came home from college, and I thought you were this strange older version of Pa. I had to get used to you all over again.”

“What are you trying to say, Joe?”

Joe pursed his lips before looking up, his eyes strangely hardened. “If you leave again, and the rest of us have to wait, every day, wondering whether you’ll be back—.”

“Just because I want to take a position with the U.S. government doesn’t mean—.”

“I think it does, Adam,” Hoss said quietly.

“I should have kept it to myself.” Adam stood and walked outside.

Joe chased after him and Hoss reluctantly followed, never enjoying the display of tempers between his brothers.
“Come on, brother, let’s have this out. What’s your real reason for leaving?”

“My real reason?” Adam acted as though thinking hard. “I’m sick of you.”

Like a snake Joe lashed out with his fist, but Adam blocked the blow. Hoss grabbed Little Joe’s arm. Joe turned on Hoss, and just as quickly started to laugh. “I’m sorry, Adam. But you’ve been away a lot lately. It’s got on my nerves. And with Pa feeling poorly—.”

“I think LizaSue is waiting for you, Adam.”

Adam turned to see her sitting in her buggy watching him.

“You can do this and still come back to the ranch, right?” Joe nearly bit himself but the boyish pleading had already escaped.

“Sure, Joe.” Adam waved to LizaSue, and her returning smile made her bonnet loosen by the way she immediately turned to fuss with it. He sighed. Getting hitched to LizaSue, what a thought. He felt Joe and Hoss behind him, still worrying. “Ah, don’t worry, we’ve got a good couple of weeks before roundup. I’ll be back in time.” He shook Hoss’s hand and slugged Joe’s shoulder before turning away. Briefly his throat closed up tight. Something was going to change on this trip, all right. Time will tell what that something will be.

“Adam, we need to get riding. Father’s waiting.” LizaSue yelled.

Adam forced a smile as he hitched his horse to the back of her buggy and patted it briskly under its mane. He got up into the buggy and took the reins from LizaSue. “You been waiting long?”

“Long enough and you know it, Mr. Cartwright. I know you were spending time in the International with your brothers.” Her tone was filled with honey, only a touch of lemon, so Adam didn’t respond except with a smile. “How long will it take us to get there?”

“Four Troughs? Four days maybe. We’ll follow the Truckee River for a piece before finding a route east through the hills.” Adam gave the reins a shake and the horse she called Dancer started off. Adam held the reins tight to keep the horse within the town’s legal limits. There was more to LizaSue than it seemed, handling a big, excitable horse like this.

“Are you sure your father wants you up in Four Troughs? That’s desert country, and just a small mining town.”

“Can we ride out of town first before I tell you the whole story? My nose is just closing up on me here – I need some fresh air.”

Adam smirked to himself as he gave the reins another shake. Virginia City may not be the most sanitary of towns, but the wind mostly carried odors elsewhere. Perhaps he was the one being taken for a ride. She had heard he was making this trip to the fort where the army was temporarily stationed and it was just his luck that her father was a corporal living in a small town on the way.

“Did I tell you Father wants to run for governor?”

“Huh. A military man as governor? Well, I guess if they can be president. Personally I think we’re better off with lawyers. Not much better.” Maybe if Lincoln had been a military man, he could have seen the inevitable conclusion of the War of Succession. Not that foreseeing would have made any difference to a man of integrity like Lincoln. His own experiences with the slavery issue and with Lincoln made him realize there was much more to issues than what we’re led to believe.

“Father is having a party Saturday night at Four Troughs, that’s why he’s there, getting the event prepared. He’s invited everyone for miles around – even your pa should have got an invite. He plans to announce his candidacy for the next election.”

“Then I guess it’s understandable why he wants you there.”

“And he specifically asked that you bring me.”

Adam feigned surprise. “Why, Miss LizaSue, are you flirting with me?” As she laughed, Adam realized that he didn’t mind being taken for a ride. Talking to Corporal Ledders about the Indian agent vacancy was only a matter of formality. He had already decided to accept the position. After that, he might just feel like doing a little dancing – before he gets down to work. “I guess the area is growing up, even though it’s years yet before we see a railroad.”

“Oh Adam, I bet Virginia City will get as big as New York when that happens!”

Adam laughed but with a bitter edge. “I hope not.”

They traveled on in companionable silence, ready for the next conversational topic to come along.

“Hoss! Whatcha got there?” Roy Coffee was out on his stoop, dirt smudges on his brown trousers and tan vest and his shirt half undone, looking as though he’d just finished cleaning his office with a scrub bucket. He took off his spectacles and wiped at them with his kerchief.

Big gentle Hoss was a sight with two squirming pups under one arm, one all black and one black and brown, the other arm heavy with his saddlebag. The pups wiggled and nipped at his arm, making his grin spread wider. “Oh hey, Roy, this here’s our new range pups.”

“Ah. Tough spring roundup, was it?”

“That’s right.” Hoss nodded at Roy and continued on toward his horse. It was going to be a chore getting these pups to stay still all the way home. He stopped, wondering if he was going to need a box or some kind of sack or something.

“Ah, Hoss?”

“Yeah?” He turned back, his mind on the pups. He didn’t want to put no living critters in no sack, that much he knew.

“Was that your brother I saw heading north?”

“Yeah, it was, Roy, and I’d be careful if I was you. He doesn’t take too kindly to being heckled about doing favors for LizaSue.”

“Well, Jimminelle, boy, everyone in town knows he’s doing favors for LizaSue, she musta told everyone in town. No, it ain’t that. I got word that the posse giving us grief over that Indian attack on white settlers was not letting things lie like we thought. You remember ‘em, Hoss, you got ‘em living out near your land there, don’t ya?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know ‘em, Roy.”

“Word is they’re going to drive them Indians off’n your land if they have to kill every last one of ‘em. And they got a powerful grudge against Adam, too.”

Hoss somberly studied the back of the black pup’s head.

“Now I don’t know how serious this is, mind you. So far it’s just talk between one or two of ‘em. I’m gonna try my hand at calming them down. But Hoss, you and me both know how the government feels about them Indians.”

“Yeah, Roy, that’s a fact.”

“I hear tell that even if we were to take them Indians to court for the trial of the Johnson murders, no government official has to take their word on anything. They say an Indian’s word can’t be trusted. Don’t matter who fired the first shot, neither.”

“And that’s about as unfair as anything can be.”

“You and me know it. But our opinions don’t count.”

“Tell you what, you let Pa and me know if’n they head out to cause trouble. We’ll put enough men together and stop ‘em.”

“Now Hoss, you know you can’t draw down on your neighbors to save Indians. You’d be in for a peck of trouble, more trouble than even you Cartwrights can handle.”

“Well, don’t you worry none about that.”

Roy walked back to his office and watched as Hoss got on his horse. He felt a little easier now that he gave that warning. Not much, but a little. In an official capacity, there wasn’t much else he could do. Except try to keep things from going beyond talking to doing.

Hoss rode up to the ranch as quick as he dared with pups tucked in his saddlebags. “Pa! Pa!”

Hop Sing came running out of the kitchen door. “Something on fire, Mr. Hoss?”

“No, Hop Sing, but I need Pa. Where is he?”

“He gone, help brand caffs. They run into trouble over on back range, and short men.”

“Short men? You mean, like you, Hop Sing?”

“Like me?” Hop Sing caught on and chuckled. “Oh, you a funny man, Mr. Hoss. Velly funny.” He shook his head, laughing as he went back into the house.

Hoss took the pups out and brought them to the bunkhouse. Like Roy says, it’s probably nothing. He’ll let them know if they have anything to worry over. Problem is, can he let them know in time?

Hoss knew one thing for sure – Adam would really be hurting if something happened to that little Crow boy.

Adam squinted up at the setting sun. Another hour and they’d have to make camp for the night. LizaSue had squealed when he told her there would be no rooms for rent past Truckee Meadows and they were already long past. She quite coyly admitted she never gave their sleeping arrangement much thought, but she said it in such a way that he knew she meant just the opposite.

They had been following the lush Truckee River, but soon they were going to have to veer east of the shade of trees keeping them moderately cooled to follow a rocky and difficult barren trail over the foothills of the Sierras. And beyond that, desert, before the town of Four Troughs just west of a stream that often went dry. That meant a hot two days ahead of them by the looks of the sky. He had to admit, though rather unwillingly to himself, that she was made of much stouter stuff than he imagined. He could feel the inklings of respect for her, and something else he didn’t feel ready to acknowledge. A feeling like desire coupled with a newborn interest to seeing that this trip was as pleasant and comfortable as possible.

But the thought of seeing her wilt in the next few days wasn’t giving him the jumpy feeling he’s carried well hidden. Could be knowing what can creep out from behind rocks in the middle of nowhere. Could be the memory of that murdered Indian slinking back into his mind, the killer yet unknown. He couldn’t escape the memory of hate in men’s eyes when they sought ‘justice’ against the Crow. Without thinking about it, his hand slipped down to his holster.

“Oh, Adam, it really is peaceful out here, isn’t it? Not a soul around for miles, just you and I and our horses. You might almost say it’s—.”

Adam shushed her. There were two horses off to the left by a cluster of sage. He reached for his gun but saw a man and a boy, unarmed, waving to him. The man was leaning over his mount’s right hoof, holding it up.

“Adam, what do they want?”

“I think we’re about to find out.” He steered the buggy toward them, but pulled up short with a safe distance between them.

“Hey, we are glad to see you.” The older man was rough and dirty but smiling through his poverty. Adam couldn’t finger what didn’t seem right about him. The boy’s face was smudged and hair unruly, and his smile didn’t hide the sadness in his eyes.

“What’s the problem?”

The man held up a horseshoe in his other hand. “Horse threw a shoe. You carry any nails with you?”

Adam squinted at the horseshoe. It wasn’t nicked or rusted, not even a little bent up as riding through rough rock’ll do. As the man’s face fell, Adam looked down at the horse. The hooves, needing a trim, were nicked and split. None of those hooves had shoes.

“Please, mister?” The boy said. “We’ve been stranded without food—.”

While the boy distracted Adam, the man went for the gun hidden in his shirt. In the second it took him to pull it out Adam drew and shot the gun from his hand.

“What kind of trade is this to teach a boy?” Adam shook his head and replaced his gun. “Try and find a better way of living for your boy’s sake.”

As the two mounted up and rode off, Adam put his arm around LizaSue, watching until he couldn’t see them any longer. Something was familiar about the man, but he couldn’t place a finger on it. “Gonna ruin those animals.” LizaSue clutched him tightly, trembling. “Hey, are you all right?”

“That was…I’ve never…they were…”

“Just two desperate people.”

“They’ll try it again, though, won’t they? Maybe not to us, but…there’s no law out here. Oh, Adam, I’m so lucky you were here.”

“It wasn’t luck, they just made a mistake.” Adam saw the path leading around the side of a hill through the rocks. He steered the horse and buggy in that direction, leading them to a flatter clearing amid the rock and sage. Their two waylayers had made use of it, even made a fire while they waited for someone to jump. Or maybe they just took advantage of an unexpected opportunity. Adam shrugged off a disquieting thought before it took firmer hold. “We may as well camp here for the night. Not much left to the sun. Our friends counted on that, too.”

“But you see like a cat in the dark, don’t you?” LizaSue leaned up against him. She wasn’t trembling in fright anymore, but trembling just the same.

Adam jumped down out of the buggy, missing her dismayed frown.

She looked around, wrinkling her nose. “We’re going to sleep here?” When she looked up into the darkening sky she shrugged. “All right.” LizaSue looked him straight in the eye, no longer attempting to hide her intent. “Might get cozy, at that.”

Adam pulled Dancer to the brush to tie the reins securely, then loosened his horse to graze on what it could find. He helped LizaSue down, and she held on to him, threw her arms around him and kissed him. After a surprised moment Adam responded, kissing her back.

Instead of looking away in embarrassment after the kiss she stared at him boldly, waiting. Adam took off her bonnet and brushed her hair off her forehead.

“Let’s…make some supper.”

During a light supper of fried pork and beans Adam listened to LizaSue talk. She was surprisingly self sufficient, had to be all her life, and proud of it by the light in her eyes and the raise of her chin. Her soft light brown hair shimmered in the campfire, and her smooth velvet hands took hold of any opportunity to touch him. As Adam poured the coffee she quieted and studied him. She held her skirt against her legs and squiggled close to him. At his smile she placed a hand on his arm, her eyes digging imploringly into his.

“Liza, I enjoy your company, well, most of the time. We have our differences, but then, no two people are really alike, I mean, look at my brothers, we—.”

LizaSue put a finger on his lips. “Adam, what are you trying to say?”

“Just that…” he leaned over and took her in his arms again. They kissed and conversed, as the night closed down around them and the fire embers died.

 

Adam was startled awake shortly before dawn by LizaSue leaning over him. “I didn’t sleep too well. How about you?” She kissed him lightly on the lips.

He sat up. “Did you hear something?” It was either his imagination or the hills were trembling.

“Only my heart beating against yours.” She threw herself across his lap. “Make me feel better, this rough life is really hard on the spirits.”

“Hard on the—.”

Four horses came around the hills before Adam could untangle himself from her arms. Snorting, hard ridden horses with Indians holding the reins came to a stop in front of them. Adam stood and pushed LizaSue behind him.

“We…are friends.” He used his best Paiute tongue, although these appeared to be Crow by their dress. “Just…passing through…”

But one Indian raised his rifle and fired.

“No!” LizaSue screamed as Adam staggered backward into her and fell to the ground at her feet. She dropped down next to him, reaching out but not touching the blood from the hole in his shoulder. “Oh Adam, no.”

The Indian lowered his rifle as they rode forward. LizaSue, tears streaming down her face, saw the blue eyes under the leader’s dirt smudged face – they had the clothing but little else that marked them as Indian, hard to tell at a distance.

“Get the girl.” He ordered to another in plain English.

Another ‘Indian’ jumped off his horse and grabbed LizaSue, pulling her off Adam.

“Let me go! I have to help him! Stop it!”

But he picked her up and threw her up on the horse of another who pinned her hard against him. As she watched, helpless, their camp was stripped clean, the buggy and both horses taken away with them. They rode off with Liza screaming, leaving Adam bleeding on the rocks behind them.

Hoss wasn’t sure why he needed to visit the Crow. He knew Adam brought them gifts every so often, food and things they could use, and he especially enjoyed seeing the young’un. Hoss figured Adam needed the little guy to fill the hole made inside him when Peggy moved away with her mother. But who’s to fill the hole left by the mother? He didn’t think LizaSue was up to the task.

Roy’s warning left Hoss a little perturbed, but he didn’t think there was enough to worry Pa over. He only wanted to warn the Crows, nothing more. A mile before their camp he got a queasy feeling, like a smell that meant trouble, like nature was disturbed, he couldn’t figure his feeling closer than that. Around another crook in the path, there, sticking out of the brush and rock, was a hand. Hoss got reluctantly off his horse. A dead Indian, all right. Stripped naked, too. Hoss stood, shaky. He had the sudden feeling he wasn’t going to like what he found at the Crow camp.

 

Sparks of intense pain throbbed through his brain. Adam tried to push it away, seeking blissful black sleep again. Something cold and wet covered his face and the pain worsened. He groaned and tried to move but two soft firm hands held him down.

Slowly the pain subsided, rocking back through his body into his right shoulder. Adam opened his eyes.

The Indian girl crouched beside him smiled. She put a crudely fashioned wooden bowl to his lips and he sipped at the sappy tasting water until the pain sent him back down again.

He blinked hard and tried to talk. The girl shushed him, saying a few words in her tongue that his fuzzy mind couldn’t comprehend. She seemed familiar but his eyes weren’t allowing him to focus. He could only think she was some angel sent from the heavens. She signed for him – ‘lie, pain will pass, bullet out’, and he closed his eyes again.

Adam felt better the second time he awoke, although at first he didn’t recognize it. His thirst was enormous. A wooden bowl was at his left side, so he rolled that way and reached with his right, but his right arm was roped to the ground both at the wrist and at the elbow. With the pain spurred in his shoulder all the memory of what happened came flooding back. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, the pain washing fresh through him, through the wound and into his mind.

LizaSue. The Crow took her. But why the Crow…why did they shoot him?

When he opened his eyes the Indian girl was leaning over him. She gave him a small drink of water. He looked into her deep brown eyes, at her velvet black hair, the familiar lovely smile. Ayissai. He looked around the oblong grass and mud lodging, their medicine lodge. The Washoe.

“How many days…” he licked his lips, “moons have I been here?” He hoped she could understand his broken attempt at their language. He wasn’t good at it and even worse with his throbbing head.

“Moons?” When he nodded she showed him one finger, twice.

“Two days?” He groaned. “A girl with me? LizaSue?” When she shook her head, he sat up with a jerk, fighting the dizziness that threatened to push him back down. He reached for the rope that held his right arm down, but his fingers couldn’t work the knots, they felt as lifeless as cooked cow meat. He relinquished himself to her gentle pressure and laid back down.

She signed with fingers to mouth.

“Food?” He nodded. “I guess so. Wait.” He grabbed for her hand but missed, his fingers brushing her skin. “How did you find me?”

“Adam Cartwright, you will speak to my father,” she said brokenly, hoping she knew enough English to make herself understood.

“Is…your tribe…well?” He tried to remember the last time he visited her tribe, and realized he’d been overly concerned with the Crows’ safety.

“We are a poor people.”

“Your English is getting better.”

“You sleep now.” She left the simple grass and mud medicine lodge, the animal hide flap slapping neatly back in place.

“Ayissai.” He put his head back and sighed. “I have to get out of here.”

When she brought the food to him she also brought two of her elders who seated themselves without ceremony at his feet. Ludtai he recognized but not the other younger one. Ludtai had always been mistrustful of Adam’s visits, regardless of Adam’s intent and purpose. “Who did this to you?” Ludtai used his own tongue.

“Men…different…bad tribe.” Adam said. They looked at each other without expression. “A girl…my companion… woman, dead? When you found me?” He looked at Ayissai.

Ayissai shook her head. She placed his food bowl in his good hand. She gently touched his cheek with one finger and got behind him to help him sit up. His bad shoulder stung with pain but he fought not to let her know.

Still, Ayissai felt his pain shuddering through him, saw the sweat glistening his forehead. She knelt behind him and cradled him tenderly, just elevated enough to eat but to also keep his shoulder down and relaxed.

“Do not struggle.” Ludtai advised him.

Ayissai took a small piece of raw red meat from the bowl and fed it to him, then gave him a small sip of water. Adam was surprised to find he was famished.

“Do you know what tribe?” Ludtai continued.

“From what I could tell, Crow. I had helped a tribe of Crow a while back, now living on the Ponderosa, so these must be renegades.” Adam waved off Ayissai’s help and started taking the food himself with his good hand, while studying the faces of the elders. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

As she held the bowl so he could eat, Adam and the elders talked. They told him it could not have been Crow, but would not say why. He didn’t like the way this denial made him feel, but with their language barrier he couldn’t get into the feelings, only acknowledged that he may have been mistaken. They told him that there were men riding the country, disguised as Indians, and stealing women, and that one of their own women was missing.

“Do you know where their camp is?”

“Know that they move, every night. Take people, keep prisoners. Steal food. Butcher cattle.”

“Sounds like a nasty bunch.” Adam waved at Ayissai to put the food down and he struggled to sit up. “I have to find them before the trail is gone.”

“Yes.” Ludtai knew some English as well, enough for Adam to follow him. “The earth spirits…send you to us…” and at this point he and the other began talking rapidly in their own tongue.

Adam could feel Ayissai listening intently behind him, at one point tensing over something they said. They were talking about him, and she didn’t like what they were saying.

She gave him the water that he indicated. For a moment all he could think of was getting enough water to drench his entire sweating body. When he finished drinking and looked up, the three stood and without sharing another thought left him alone in the lodge.

Adam flexed the fingers of his right hand. His gun hand. If they had wanted him dead, he would be. No Crow but dressed like Crow. Then who? A sudden thought made him shudder.

He reached again for the rope again, knowing he had to leave, but eating had worn him out. He laid back and within minutes was asleep.

Ayissai woke him sometime after the sun had set with more food. This time she undid the ropes on his arm so he could sit and feed himself.

“Elders…” he gestured. “Plan capture? Follow the trail and find those prisoners?”

“Want to stop bad men. You rest.”

He looked into her soft brown eyes, and realized like a sudden blow to the head what it was about LizaSue that he could not tolerate. Every move he made, she read something into, as though believing she knew what he would do next, instead of just taking his company and face value and enjoying it. In LizaSue’s presence he felt he was constantly being analyzed.

“You know I cannot stay.” Adam swallowed hard, the food he chewed pushing against the lump in his throat. He had to help LizaSue, but he knew just as surely that he did not want to leave here. At the same time he felt he knew what had happened to the Crow, and felt the ache in his heart at hoping that Night Owl had been spared. And all his people, supposedly so safe out on the Ponderosa. If they were all dead, what good were his plans now? “I have to leave.”

After a moment she looked down and nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell me how you’ve become so good at English.”

“Friend. Yours.”

“Who? What friend?”

“Sall-ee.”

Adam nodded. A retired school teacher, she dedicated herself to the Indians, bringing them food, medicine and help breaking the language barriers. She was supposed to give them catechism lessons too, but often fell short when she saw how well they honored their own gods. At least, that’s what she told Adam.

After he finished eating she made him hold still while she removed the dried mud pack she’d put over his wound. Ugly and throbbing but the wound seemed to be clean. She took some brown powder out of a small pouch and sprinkled it on the wound. Then after making Adam drink more water she made another mud pack in the wooden bowl and covered the wound again. The cool mixture was soothing. Everywhere she touched him awakened a part of him that needed touching, has needed it for a long time.

She pulled out a leather strap, tied it around his neck in a sling and helped him fit his hand through. He winced sharply, but at the touch of her hand to his cheek was able to relax the pain away.

“You didn’t have to do this. You could have left me out there to die.”

She sat back and looked at him. “No. Not you, Adam.” She stood. “You are not ready and I would stop you.” A tear trickled down her face as she leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Take care, Adam Cartwright. Find your woman.” She left the lodge.

“Wait, she’s not—.” he stared at the door. LizaSue. He had to concentrate to get himself to move.

Standing was harder than he thought. He had to lean against the lodge walls until the ground stood still again.

He took his time to get outside, finally leaning exhausted against a tree. A painted horse stood a few feet away, stamping its feet. It looked well stocked, a blanket, bulging pouches, his gunbelt was there but bullets would be limited without the rest of his gear, which must have been taken by the renegades.

He grabbed onto the horse’s mane, and after a couple missed attempts managed to pull himself up. They had given him, thankfully, a small mustang.

He urged it forward. LizaSue was his responsibility. But he took Ayissia’s loving concern with him.

Even finding the naked Crow in the bushes didn’t prepare Hoss for the devastation he found at the Crow village or his feelings of anguish and anger. The village had been carefully burned, tended so that the fire wouldn’t ride the wind into other homesteads nearby. That meant the marauders had to stand and watch, and probably even drove the people back into the fire who tried to escape. Some women, half burned, had been chopped in two, men viciously slashed and left to die or burn, and even children – children! Where was Night Owl? But some bodies were charred beyond recognition, and more than just a few were stripped of clothing. Several had been scalped.

Hoss didn’t have an outlet for his anger, except to sit on the ground and cry.

The Washoe acted on instinct, knowing when to let Adam go, near dusk, and what he needed to keep healing while he traveled. They had included roots and powders he could only assume were medicines and he also found, along with an abundance of dried meats and vegetables, two pouches of water and water pellets for the horse. They had carefully hidden one of their crude but deadly skinning knives in the saddle blanket. They meant well, but he had the feeling that one bullet from his gun was all the further he was going to get.

He wasn’t sure at first why he was going off to the west. It didn’t feel right to him, but then since he was shot and the Indians moved him, he couldn’t be sure where he was. So he had no choice but to take the route Ayissai pointed out. He thought hard about these men who’d taken LizaSue and remembered seeing, just before the shot, a pale color in the long hair of one of them. Half breed renegades? Or….

Not Indians at all but wearing Indian garb. Who would want to do this?

Ayissai was right. He wasn’t ready, even though he had no choice. But the pain, after riding the horse only a mile in the dark, had risen to a low scream in his shoulder. Outside of the cool lodge, the remaining heat of the cooling desert just over the rocky ledge was stirring up a slow fire inside his head he knew was fever. It wasn’t near as hot now as when the sun was at midday but he felt as though the sun was right over his head. He would have to find a place to sleep the hottest part of the day.

He couldn’t go back. LizaSue depended on him. He was careless and now he had to get her back, for her father’s sake – her father, who had insisted she make this journey for a party. Now they could both end up dead.

He reached into one of the pouches they provided, digging for the root to chew on. He didn’t recognize what plant it was, but the taste wasn’t bad. He felt very honored to be given Indian medicine, they went to great lengths not only to find exactly what they needed but also to purify it in what was probably a long and dedicated ceremony. They wanted him to find not only LizaSue but their woman and other prisoners as well. Indian prisoners?

If these were white men disguised as Indians, where did they get the clothes?

The horse stamped impatiently as Adam got his bearings. So the Washoe, who tried to find these men themselves and failed, felt he could do it? That meant thinking like a white man. Outlaws like this, in disguise, would want obscurity, somewhere near a water source. They had prisoners to provide for. If their intentions were to keep them alive, and, Adam realized with a shudder, their intentions toward women prisoners were most likely physical, they would also be looking for an outpost. An outpost and obscurity. Adam looked up at the stars until he had his direction. Going directly into the western desert was the only logical route. He drank too much of the water they’d given him but felt a little cooler. He’d have to find more to get him past the sunrise that was sure to come.

“Pa, you didn’t see the village. Men who would do that are letting hate control ‘em and would do anything!”

Ben was too shaken by the news of the Crow slaughter to respond past “you can’t be sure who did it, or why.” Hoss seemed to think it was the posse that Adam tangled with over the Crow but Ben knew some of those men, had known one of them since practically the first day they built their ranch on Ponderosa land.

“We have no proof, Hoss.”

“I think we have to tell Adam about this, Pa.” Joe’s quiet assertion broke into the angry silence. “He has to know about little Night Owl.”

“We’re not going riding after your brother.”

Hoss frowned. “He’ll know soon enough anyhow.”

Joe nodded. “Yeah, and then he’ll act on it officially. But I was thinking of how he’ll feel personally.”

Ben looked sharply at Joe. “What does that mean?”

“I was thinking how bad Adam will feel if—.”

“No, about the officially acting on it.”

Hoss exchanged a worried glance with Joe. “He uh…done told us he plans to get a job as an Indian agent.”

“He what?”

Joe cleared his throat, voice barely a whisper. “He wants to help other tribes the way he helped the Crows.”

“Oh, no.” Ben knew the Crow village meant a lot to Adam, but now it also stood for a sense of pride and the belief that he could make a difference in this culturally torn apart world. “When he hears this—.”

“Pa, Adam could be in trouble now, too.”

Ben looked up at Hoss sharply. “Why do you say that?”

“Because some of the Indians had been stripped of their clothes.”

“That doesn’t mean—-.”

“No, it don’t mean nothing. But it could mean trouble. Everyone knows Adam was heading out with LizaSue. Now I ain’t saying they’d kill him. But what if they wanted to make him hate Indians too? Roy warned me, Pa, said that posse was still mad, and talking about getting even.”

Joe stood from the settee where he had been slouched. “Pa, we better go find him.”

“No.” Ben stared at the floor. “Adam’s a grown man. He wouldn’t take kindly to us riding two nights and days to catch him just to give him a warning that’s probably for nothing.”

Hoss shoved his hands in his dungarees and stared at the floor. “Mind if Joe and I go out riding awhile?”

“Yeah, Pa, we would just make sure he’s okay without him knowing, and come back.”

Finally Ben nodded. “Can’t stop you from taking a ride.”

Hoss and Joe ran to the door and grabbed their coats.

“Boys!” Ben went up to them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’m going with you. I could use a good ride.”

Ben and Joe watched as Hoss got off his horse. The ground was getting rocky, but that wasn’t the reason the tracks were getting difficult. They had followed the buggy tracks for nearly a day, and only five miles out of town the hooves of riders covered the buggy tracks.

Hoss shook his head. “No sign that they weren’t but deliberately following Adam and LizaSue’s trail. We stay on this trail and we’ll come up with something before long.” With the reins in his hand he walked his horse for a bit, then stopped and bent over again. “Hey, Joe, come here.”

“What is it?” Joe jumped down by him.

“Look at this.” Hoss pointed, indicating a different direction than the one they’d been following. “Indian ponies.”

“Yup, they’re lighter than the other ones, all right. Newer trail, too, see how the other one is blown looser in spots. I don’t think one trail has anything to do with the other, Hoss.”

“No, I reckon not. I just don’t like the idea that if Adam hasn’t met with one kind of trouble, he’s met with another.”

“Don’t concern yourself with Indians, Hoss, Adam can handle himself there. It’s this first group, the way they picked up his trail and didn’t get off it again.”

“Probably the posse.”

“Probably.”

Ben hadn’t added to the conversation but he heard them clear enough. No denying what they didn’t want to know – Adam and LizaSue met up with some big trouble somewhere up ahead.

And probably days have passed since then.

Ben spurred Buck on ahead of them. “If God is on our side, they’ve kept Adam and LizaSue alive.”

“If they didn’t, they didn’t bother to bury them,” Joe added softly. He was glad Pa didn’t hear him. “He’s mighty upset,” he said to Hoss. “We don’t need him getting sick again.”

“Yeah.” Hoss started his horse trotting. “But what’s even worse is what will happen to him if we find Adam dead.”

Joe kicked Cochise into a gallop.

The sun fried the sand as the day wore on. Adam wasn’t familiar with this part of the desert. He had gone a lot farther than he expected he could in such a short time, thanks to the horse’s energy. He had left the Outpost some miles back where it was a shambles, and now he had no idea where he was, only that he was still going the right way. Even if he finds and rescues LizaSue he may never get them back alive. That would be a strain on the romance, he thought with near laughter.

There was something about this trail, but he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him. Adam got down off his horse for a closer look. A sudden wave of dizziness hit him and he sank to the ground. The day was hot, too hot. He dragged himself to his feet and took the other water pouch off the horse. He poured a little more water on the bandana he wore around his forehead. He swallowed too much, too quickly and before he could stop himself this pouch was empty. He took out another of the thirst pellets for the horse. After studying the edible water balloon for a moment, he gave it to the horse.

He was going to have to find shade and sleep but he feared it, feared not being able to get up again. He rubbed the back of his neck where the leather strap dug into his skin. Not enough shade for him and the horse to sleep in around here anyway.

Adam bent down to examine some brush. What first looked like a blooming flower wasn’t. It was a piece of cloth. With a shaky left hand he pried it loose. He concentrated with his eyes shut, trying to remember what LizaSue was wearing. When he finally got her in his mind he looked back at the cloth. Either she put it here herself to mark the way or…

His right hand jerked toward his gun but was held in place by the leather strap. The stinging bolt of pain through his shoulder sent him down on one knee.

“Enough!” He scolded himself. “You’re feeling sorry for yourself, turning yourself into a child. If it wants to hurt, let it hurt and be done with it!”

He took his right arm out of the sling and flexed his fingers. Clenching his teeth he made a fist and slammed it into the ground. With a scream that broke off in his throat he passed out on the hot dry ground.

Ayissai tried to run forward when Adam fell but Tukwaida stopped her.

“Brother,” she whispered angrily to his hand on her arm. “I can help him, make him better, keep him going.”

“Yes, you can make him better, but he will not be able to find the way.”

“I will not keep him from—.”

“You will stop him, little one, with you to lean on, he will no longer listen to his heart and his mind. This Adam Cartwright, we know how he feels, how he thinks. He has the strong need of finding his woman to force him back to his feet. But he must believe he is alone.”

“But he will die there!”

“Not yet. If he does not get up soon. Wait.”

 

The horse stamped its foot by Adam’s head, impatient to be moving through the heat to the other side. The Indians trained the horse well for traveling through the desert, for knowing where on the other side water could be found, and it knew well that until it got there this human was the source of its water.

It pushed Adam’s neck and whinnied in his ear. Slowly Adam came out of it. He put his good arm around the horse’s neck and allowed the animal to pull him to his feet. Any more time lingering exposed to the sun could be fatal.

He jumped up on the horse and started off in the direction they had to go. North, further into the desert. His wound had begun to bleed again but he no longer felt the pain.

Just over the next ridge Adam stopped. The man and boy he had run into earlier were dead on the ground, killed and left to rot by people without even the decency to cover them with rocks. They ran into the Crow – no, whites dressed as Crow. Was it the posse he tangled with some time ago. No, don’t think that. Then they were former friends, meaning to scare him, make him think he was attacked by Crow, who knows what goes through minds blanketed with hate? Why would they kill these innocent white people? They didn’t bother to make it look like an Indian attack. But these two weren’t that innocent, were they? He thought the one had looked familiar. Had they been with the posse but tried to cut out? Decided they had enough? Threatened to turn the rest of them in?

Too many questions made his head hurt. Adam followed a trail leading from the bodies with his eyes. The trail widened and went up a ridge, hooves of many horses. Only four had attacked him, but this appeared to be 20 or more. That was the way then, up out of the desert into a plateau. The tracks were fresh, not more than a couple hours old. They must be feeling secure, not hiding their trail.

This time when Adam reached for the gun at his right side, he felt no pain.

Adam crouched and peered down into the canyon. They were camped in a semi circle of rock, looking settled and content. Some were asleep on the ground, one snoring. Others were off to one side eating, and still others checking weapons. Only three were dressed as Indians. A total of twelve, most he figured he wouldn’t recognize. He couldn’t see any women, but heard a nasty strangled gasping from what appeared to be a cave opening. He scanned his surroundings, trying to find a better vantage point. They had two openings in the red and brown walls of rock surrounding them, and he decided to climb over to the northern entrance, where a sleepy guard stood with his back leaning against the entrance. He had to climb up first and then down to get to it, and could only hope to be quiet enough. At least it was cooler here, a little.

As he studied them, their clothes, their manners, he saw they were white men disguised, all right. And though he fought not to see it, the clothes were familiar. That one with the circular pattern—.

He could no longer deny it, or push it to the back of his mind. That was the magic symbol of the Crow shaman.

That could mean only one thing, and Adam dreaded knowledge of that one thing. He slid around the side of the foothill, carefully staying hidden but seeking a way to get closer to the one wearing the holy garb. Adam planned to put a bullet hole in his forehead if he discovers they’ve done any harm to that Crow tribe. And Night Owl.

Adam got close enough nearly to whisper a man’s name and be heard, and fell backward in horror. Jacobs! One of Pa’s closest friends. The one Pa was sure would give up the posse soon enough. Now they were just men who hated the Crow, who would cross all boundaries, legal or not, for their warped idea of justice.

He stumbled back down the hill, and finally collapsed onto a patch of rocky ground. Night Owl. They killed the tribe, massacred them, could Night Owl have survived? Did they have the decency to let the women and children go? He imagined the Crow, serenely going about their days chores, Night Owl laughing as he hit another practice target, just before the noise, the sound of angry men’s horses pounding in the village, gunfire, screams—.

And as they died, they cursed the name of Adam Cartwright.

Adam tried to stand again, but a terrifying weakness overwhelmed him, and he let blissful sleep carry him away…

….When he came to found his hands bound behind him, and laying on a patchy grass area in the midst of corralled horses. He picked his head up and squinted into the sun. He had been out since late yesterday afternoon and now it was near mid-morning. Some rescue. At least his arm didn’t hurt. Problem was, he wasn’t sure if he could even stand. But he had to. This won’t end until he makes them realize how wrong they are.

Behind him where he struggled to get to his knees came laughter. Around the crude corral of horses belonging to a rundown homestead stood four men from the posse, Jacobs, Samuels and two others, the only four left who found enough hatred to carry them on. The others with them must be stragglers they picked up along the way. None were wearing Indian garb now.

“Well, Adam, thought you could come after us, eh?”

“Maybe he’s thinking to kill himself some red skins.”

“You get hurt by an Indian attack, Adam? Want to side with your own people for a change?’

“You know how cruel redskins are now, too.”

Adam turned to his side and squinted, fighting dizziness. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m on your side now. We…we have to go after them. They…took my….a woman that I…”

“They took his woman! Did you hear that? Nothing worse than a lousy redskin taking a man’s woman! Why, she’s probably dead by now. Feel like killing yet, Adam?”

“Gotta find her. Kill whoever did this.”

“Whoever? We been on their trail, Adam, they was Indians!”

“Yeah, must be the same ones who shot me.” Adam could barely whisper. “Do you have…water?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jacobs stepped forward, taking over. “Get him some water.” He crouched down by Adam. “You ain’t fooling me, you know. I’ve known you and your family a long time. You’re playing along to get me to untie you. You think to accuse us of your injury. Look, friend, you’re bleeding to death. Why don’t you just ride on out of here before you die, go get your daddy and see if he’ll believe we was the ones who shot you. Go on. Get up. We’ll put you on a horse and you can ride right on out of here.”

“I could take you on my death bed.”

“That’s about where you are, I’d say.” Jacobs looked behind him at the others, as though considering it.

Palmer brought the canteen over but Jacobs waved him away. “No. Adam wants to shoot it out with me. I think we oughta give him the chance. That way we can put him out of his misery quick. It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”

Adam finally got to his feet as Palmer entered the corral carefully, to keep from riling the horses. He untied Adam and scurried up and over the fencing again. Adam walked to where the gate was secured but looked up into the barrel of Samuels’ rifle.

“Back up, Adam. You haven’t heard the rules of this little game yet.”

Adam squinted. His vision blurred but he knew where Jacobs was, all right. “Did you kill them all, Jacobs?”

“All?”

“Even women and children?”

“Hey, that’s right, Pete, Cartwright here was quite fond of a young’un, remember? Probably thinking of becoming a Crow hisself.”

“Rule one is you fire at me from the center of the corral, with me out here.”

Adam looked around at the horses, subdued for the moment, but looking for a reason to run and a route to escape. “Tell me the truth. Did you kill them all?”

“I don’t kill women or children, unless in self-defense. Rule #2. You shoot with your left hand.”

Adam looked down at his right arm, his injured arm. He couldn’t feel the pain, but he was bleeding, all right. Problem was he’d be about as good with the left. “How can any man hate so much? And understand so little?”

Jacobs grunted and jumped on Adam’s saddled pony. “Rule three is you shoot at a moving target.”

Adam pulled his gun with his right hand and tossed it into his left. Jacobs was surprised and pulled his, giving Adam the moment he wanted. He shot Jacobs out of the saddle just as the pony under him started to move.

Adam kept his gun out at the other three who only stared, startled at Jacobs writhing on the ground. “Three rules are enough for any man.”

He blinked hard as the ground dipped under his feet. “All right, go get the girl.”

“Adam!”

LizaSue ran out of the small shack, pulling a figure behind her. “Adam, I’m so glad you’ve come!” She stopped suddenly and the Indian girl with her stopped too, the Indian was dirty, her dress torn, legs and arms scratched and bruised, face beaten, and sadden beyond her young years. LizaSue was dirty and disheveled, but her dress wasn’t ripped and she did not have a beaten look to her. Well, of course not, she was white. This was a setup, all right, but they….

“Adam, watch out!”

The horses had begun to stampede the corral, Adam didn’t know why, only knew that they were anxiously seeking a way out and didn’t care who was in their way. He dodged a few thighs and ran to the gate but it wasn’t easy to open. He fired a shot above the animals, scaring them off for the moment as he worked on the gate’s rope but before he knew it they had charged at him again and tore through the gate that he had half opened. He flung himself sideways but couldn’t avoid all the hooves as the horses ran over him to freedom.

His last thoughts before blackness was of the last time he saw Night Owl, holding up an arrow in victory to him.

Only a little while later he came to feeling an excruciating pain. He thought he was hallucinating because he could see both Ayissai and Joe hovering over him. Then he heard LizaSue’s screeching voice, smiled to himself, and drifted off again.

When Adam awoke again he was in a small bed in a small room that he didn’t recognize, a canteen of water at his side. He reached for it with his right hand before remembering, and cursed at the pain that flooded him. His arm was still attached to his shoulder – somehow he didn’t think his arm was going to make it. He knew from enough experience how to avoid stampeding horses and caught only a few bruises. What he suffered from now was more loss of blood and sun exposure. A few bruises wouldn’t bother him otherwise.

But what happened to everyone? He shot Jacobs but not to kill – did they get away? If they did they won’t get far. He threw off the moldy blanket covering his legs and discovered they had stripped him of clothes. They…

“Pa!? Joe?”

But Ayissai answered his call. Shyly, as though not sure he would welcome her. She changed her mind when she saw his wide smile of surprise and happiness.

“Come here.” Adam pulled her close, and slowly, a bit shyly, he wrapped his good arm around her shoulder and gently kissed her. She didn’t resist, not at all. “Tell me what happened. Were you following me?”

“Saw you shot. Could not stop horses. We shot two, not other two. Other white men come.”

Adam laid back. “Are they still here?”

“You bet we are, big brother.” Joe’s grinning face poked in the doorway, and he was suddenly shoved from behind by the big happy hide of Hoss.

“Joe always loves to hog the fun,” Hoss said, laughing. “Hey, Adam, glad to see you.”

“I’m plenty glad to be seen. What happened out there?”

“Welp, near as I can reckon, after the horses stamped the Indians attacked and LizaSue and Amien, that’s this little Crow gal, they ran for the trail leading west where they ran into us. We got here just as the Indians were searching the area for prisoners and Ayissai was fixing your arm.”

“She’s quite the doctor, Adam, you gotta be mighty grateful to her.” Joe said as he patted Ayissai on the shoulder.

Adam grinned at the smirks on his brothers’ faces. “I am. Ahhh, how’s LizaSue?”

“Quite upset. She missed her father’s party,” came his pa’s voice behind them.

“Pa.” Adam realized what it would have meant to Ben if he had found his eldest dead. Because he knew, now, how it felt to lose someone as precious as Night Owl. He wanted to apologize for every time he or his brothers put their Pa through this kind of grief, he wanted to tell him that there are some things in life more precious than principles…

But as Ben stepped toward his son Adam realized that he was hiding something behind him, and as Adam’s quivering smile drifting into puzzlement Ben pulled his arm forward.

Night Owl ran to Adam, pulled Ayissai away and threw his arms around him.

Adam couldn’t feel the pain in his arm, only the happiness, and he could barely laugh for crying.

Joe and Hoss walked out to let Ben, Adam and Night Owl have a reunion. “Hey, hey, Hoss, look, there’s LizaSue.”

She sat in the dirt, drawing with a stick. She hadn’t washed since the rescue, and appeared only a shadow of the woman they saw riding out of Virginia City.

“Think she’s okay, Joe?”

“I don’t know.” Joe walked toward her, holding out his hand. “Hey, LizaSue, are you all right?”

“Is my father coming?” She didn’t look up at him.

“I think so. He’s been sent for.” Joe crouched down at her side, with Hoss a towering force over them. “Adam’s feeling much better now—.”

“I hate them!” LizaSue jammed her stick into the dirt like a vicious knife. “I’m going to tell father, so that he runs every one of them from the countryside.”

“Who, the posse?” Hoss asked, puzzled.

Joe, still at her side, only shook his head sadly.

“No, those Indians! Those filthy Indians! I hate them! I had to sleep with that girl, that Crow and she was awful! And that other girl, the things she was doing to Adam, and she called it healing. It was barbarous, that’s what it was.”

“Come on,” Joe stood, holding his hand down to her. “If you want to see your father when he gets here, you need to get cleaned up.”

She looked up at him, at the two Cartwrights staring down at her. “Help me up.” Once on her feet she pushed them both away with an anger quite unbecoming a young lady. More like a raging bull. As she stormed toward the river they heard the gallop of horses. LizaSue ran back and hid behind Joe, and then Hoss, and peeked out, finally recognizing her father’s caravan of soldiers.

“Father!”

Joe and Hoss watched as LizaSue fell into the loving concerned arms of her father.

“Hey, Hoss, you think Adam will still be interested in her after this?”

“You know, Joe, I got the feeling we got a brother who ain’t never getting married.”

“Yup. He has that kind of luck.”

 

The ranchhouse was quiet, as Ben once again found himself alone at the dining table. Joe and Hoss had rode out early to check on the cattle, and Hop Sing was teaching Night Owl how to feed his chickens. Hop Sing didn’t much cotton to the Indian method, he was right fussy in his eastern ways. The quiet felt more contented this time. Adam was coming around, on the mend, and anxious to get back to work, though he was vague about just what ‘getting back to work’ meant. Ben wasn’t worried, for once. His sons have been through many a trauma, and have always come back at ranch work with a vengeance. His work ethic was powerfully strong, and once he gets his mind set—.

At the top of the stairs came that familiar throat-clearing.

“Adam!” Ben stood. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“I’m fine, Pa.” Adam’s voice held that familiar no-nonsense timber. He was dressed, his arm back in the leather sling.

“Well, you sound fine.” Ben smiled. “Sit and I’ll have Hop Sing bring you breakfast.” He noticed Adam already had his boots on. “You’re not thinking of going out.”

“I’m not thinking it. I’m doing it. Where’s Night Owl? I need him with me.”

“Going where? Your fever only just broke yesterday. You’ve…you got to eat some breakfast, here, I’ll…Hop Sing!” This was not the son he was used to facing, this was a man who had something on his mind far beyond his years.

“No breakfast. You stuffed me so full last night I thought I would burst.”

“But you’ve gotten too thin, boy. Where are you going?”

“There’s something I gotta do.”

“Now son, I hope it’s not what I’m thinking.”

The door opened and Night Owl ran in, right into Adam’s welcoming arms, as though knowing Adam had come down and was looking for him. There was something between these two Ben envied. Perhaps it was their youth. How had he and his sons grown so old, so quickly?

Adam spoke in brief Crow to Night Owl, who nodded, and stood by the door. Adam then fished the papers he wanted out of the front drawer and grabbed his hat. “And what if it is, Pa?”

“What?” Ben couldn’t remember what he had said a moment ago. “Look, son, I know how you feel about that girl, that Ayissai, and that you need to help protect her people. But what you’re feeling now, are you sure it’s not just gratitude to her for saving your life?”

“No!” Adam turned to him. “I thought hard about that, Pa. But since I’ve been home, just lying up there, all I could think about was being with her again. About finding Night Owl a real home.”

“Stay here and rest for a few more days. Night Owl is safe here, and LizaSue’s father promised safety for the Washoe. Then if you still feel the same—.”

“He promised safety? And you believe him? Did you hear LizaSue? Who do you think he’ll listen to, huh?”

“But son, the Washoe’s world is…it’s so different from ours—.”

“And this is the only world that exists for you. But not for me.” He looked down at Ben’s hand on his arm. “Some things are more important than ranch work, Pa.” Adam pulled gently away and went outside.

Ben understood, only too well, that Adam needed a family of his own, and that Night Owl was hurting fierce over the loss of most of his tribe. But this misplaced loyalty to the Indians was only going to end up hurting Adam in the end.

This wasn’t over yet. He could feel it. There was more to be said. He turned to Hop Sing. “Thank you for breakfast, Hop Sing, I better get to work myself.”

“Mr. Adam, he well now?”

“I guess we have to let him determine that for himself.”

Ben tried hard not to worry when Adam didn’t come home that night, but he didn’t sleep well. Hoss and Joe didn’t have to ask why Ben wasn’t coming out to check the herd the next day.

Ben took his frustration out on chopping wood for the fall’s stockpile when Adam rode in late that afternoon. Ben could see the difference in him, the color in his cheeks, the smile in his eyes. For the first time since his injury he was steady and sure. He no longer wore the sling.

“Pa. Now how come I knew you’d be here.”

“Well, Adam. Good to see you again, son. Where’s Night Owl?” Ben wouldn’t admit the relief he felt that his son was alone. Maybe whatever it was had left his system and things could get back to normal.

“He’s with Ayissai’s people. I think he’ll be happy there. He told me the whole story of the attack. I talked with the sheriff about rounding up the two men who got away. They’ve sent out a posse.” Adam lost that last word in a slight smirk.

“I was ummm…a little worried about the way you rode off.”

“Thinking I wouldn’t be back?”

“Did you talk to the Colonel?” Ben had an awful sinking feeling in his heart. He wanted to push this moment back ten years, never wanted anything more.

“He surprises me. He’s grateful to Ayissai’s people for saving LizaSue, even if she’s not. He’s recommended me as agent for the territory, Pa. It’s only the first step. I’m going to use it to get into the Indian Bureau. I want to help our government keep its treaty promises.”

Adam tied his horse to the rail and with a new hesitancy in his step walked to the house and stepped inside. Ben, after a pause, followed. He wasn’t sure if Adam wanted his company right now, but by golly, Ben sure knew he needed it.

They stared everywhere about the room but at each other, for once not finding words comfortable and easy. Adam looked around as though not sure where he was – or as though seeing it for the first time. Hop Sing came out with coffee and dessert, making Adam chuckle.

“Watching out the window again, eh, you Celestial Skygazer?”

Hop Sing laughed but when he saw the look on Ben’s face frowned and went back into the kitchen. Adam picked up one of the sconces and took his coffee to the dining table, but he didn’t sit, seemed uncomfortable.

The door opened behind Ben, and Hoss and Joe came in.

“Hey, brother.” Hoss said as he unbuckled his gunbelt. “You look about ready to go back to work tomorrow, and it’s a good thing because I’ve about had it for chasing spunky little cows.”

“Yeah, you should have seen him, Adam. You’d have been proud. He even stayed on his horse until one of them ‘little cows’ tugged on the rope too hard.”

“Hah. In your dreams, little brother.”

Adam smiled wistfully at their banter but was unable to join in. Finally he looked back at Ben. “Sorry I raised my voice to you yesterday, Pa.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not what I wanted for my last day here.”

“Your last…” A deep trembling started in Ben’s gut. “What are you saying, son?”

Adam took a deep breath, and looked at each of them in turn. “I’m leaving, Pa.”

“Leaving? For a while, a year…?”

“No. For good.”

Ben went to Adam and took his arm. “Come on, let’s sit down and talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Adam pulled his arm away.

“Any work you can do for the government you can do from the ranch.”

“That’s not the way I want it. Ayissai and I—.”

“Ayissai? And….you….”

“When I went to her, stayed with them last night for the first time with a clear mind, I felt their pain instead of my own, and I knew. When I held her in my arms, finally, I was sure. Pa, I married her last night. In an Indian ceremony.”

“Oh.” Ben found the idea not as hard to accept as he thought. He even felt a little better now. “Adam, you know I’ll accept her, I’ll accept any choice of a wife you boys make. You take your parcel of land wherever you want it and make yourselves a home….”

“You don’t understand. Ayissai could never live here, on the Ponderosa, away from her people.”

“Away from them.” Ben turned away, a fist pounding the back of the settee. “But away from us?”

“I’ll never regret growing up on this ranch with you and my brothers…” he couldn’t look at Hoss and Joe. “But there’s a world out there that’s screaming, Pa. I can’t hide from it.”

“You mean the Indian people.”

“The little bit that I can do, any little bit, I’ve got to do it.”

“You could do it from here.”

“No, Pa. No one would take me seriously living on this big rich ranch. Your friend Jacobs proved that. Pa, please understand. You did a good job raising three sons. It’s long past time to let me go.” Adam put his good arm around his father. “I love you, Pa. That’ll never change. And I will see you again.”

Ben threw his arms around his son and held him tight. How on earth could he ever let go?

Adam gently pushed him away. He stepped toward the door before turning back. “Hoss, you take care of the old man.”

“Yeah.”

“And Joe, you take care of Hoss.”

“You know I always do, older brother.” But Joe’s voice cracked. He went to Adam and embraced him, no longer trying to hide the tears. He rubbed his eyes and walked away as Hoss held his hand out to Adam. Adam shook it, then pulled Hoss close for a last big bearhug.

Adam stood in the doorway. “You know, the ranch never looked bigger than it does right now. I can remember the day we started building it, as though it were yesterday.” He smiled in turn at his brothers and gazed with a measure of sadness at his pa.

Adam turned suddenly and walked out. The door closed with reluctance behind him.

At first the three of them didn’t speak.

“Pa,” Hoss said, pointing to Adam’s gunbelt. “He didn’t take his gun.” He grabbed it and tried to run outside but Ben took the gunbelt out of his hands.

“Never mind, Hoss. I think he hopes that where he’s going, he’s better off without it.”

They stood in the big empty house as the sound of horse hooves faded off in the distance.

 

The End