Synopsis: It’s Hop Sing’s birthday, but no one remembers. Maybe it’s because Hoss and Joe have their hands full with a woman who claims to be their sister, Adam’s been accused of murder, and Ben returns home from San Francisco with amnesia and thinking Hop Sing is the owner of the ranch. Well, what better birthday present could he want? Only one, somehow to get everything back the way it’s supposed to be.
Rating:  G
Words:  14,000

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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.

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Lost

San Francisco, November 1858

There were two ways to get out of a tricky situation, Ben Cartwright knew. There was casual and easy, to catch the pursuer off guard. And there was quick and sneaky, like a chess game, where the pursuer doesn’t have time to figure out the next move. Ben always prided himself on knowing ways to outwit any chess opponent. But this time he decided on casual and easy. Mostly because it had been such a delightful past two days visiting with an old lady friend, Anna Marie Alcott. They had talked over old times back in St. Louis, times he hadn’t thought about in years. It made him feel young again, lifting the melancholy that he fought against in the dead of winter.

He hadn’t forgotten Anna Marie though, recognized her right off by her soft lovely smile and the curve of her hips in the satin dresses she was fond of wearing. He had just finished a deal to transport the lumber they were cutting and headed for the stage to go home. She stood there in his path on the walk, as soft and subtle as an early spring dawn. He immediately accepted her offer to stay a few extra days as her guest and instead of boarding the stage sent a quick letter home to the boys. He knew they could handle things. And what they couldn’t, Hop Sing would.

Why hadn’t they married back in St. Louis, was Anna Marie’s third question, following “how have you been” and “what are you doing in town?” Ben answered with a grin that it must not have been in the stars. She laughed because she had no regrets, the man who ended up taking her off her father’s vegetable ranch had done very well for himself before his death. He brought her to the city and left her living in a high style, and she readily admitted to Ben that the city was where she belonged. She had slipped in a quick “Are you really as rich as they say?” and when he asked what she heard she changed the subject, getting him to laugh in that way she always had, by remembering the time she got him and young Adam to ride a pair of lanky mules her father owned.

It was a great visit between two old friends, until the letter tacked on her door dampened things a bit. Ben scoffed at the letter, saying no man had reason to be jealous. But Anna Marie told him not to scoff, this particular old seafaring rat was not kidding around. Then she smiled and apologized, remembering Ben had been on the sea as well. He accepted her apology easily, telling her he knew quite a number of seafaring rats himself.

He ripped the letter into pieces and made her reassure him that neither she nor her daughter were in any danger. When she convinced him that this rat was a mouse around her, Ben made his plans to leave again. Anna Marie did everything possible to keep him longer but he needed to see his boys again. The sweet and loving relationship between Anna Marie and her daughter left him longing.

But now there was someone behind him as he walked to the stage station. Still he forced himself to stay casual and easy, knowing there would come the moment when he could strike, like a snake under deep grass coming up on prey. He sensed with his mind the gun he always carried, even under his duded up dress jacket, and how quickly his hand would pull it out at just the right moment. The gun made him feel a little less duded up, more comfortable.

“Hey.”

Ben stopped. That sounded like a boy, a lot like Little Joe a few years back. He shook his head, suddenly feeling more homesick for his boys than he realized.

“Spare some silver? Maybe a gold piece?”

Ben whirled around, the sound of the voice pathetic and not the least bit threatening. “Come in out of the dark if you want to ask a favor.” He forgot his own chess rule of never turning your back, thinking of it just before the lead pipe came down on his head.

 

Joe came out on the front porch of the ranch house, yawned and stretched, then huddled deeper inside his coat against the cold November air. A grimace settled into his boyish features that spoke of longing for summer’s return. The grimace etched even deeper when he realized his brothers started chores without him again. The shovel leaned against the outside wall of the closed barn. Joe groaned, his face twisted in disgust. Why did he always have to be the last one up? He grabbed the shovel and walked inside where Adam and Hoss were pitching hay.

“Well, hello, younger brother,” Adam called from the up in the loft. He was tossing hay down to Hoss, who by his size could move more hay than Adam but not as quickly, which meant they had found a good rhythm together. “I see you’ve found your chore for the day.”

“Yeah, but you wait, Adam. I’m gonna get me a rooster to sleep under my bed and be up way before you two.”

“Oh-ho, what an idea,” Hoss laughed. “Then we’ll have the only cock to sleep in til noon.”

Joe mocked a sick laugh at Hoss and walked to the first stall. “Wait til Pa gets home, Adam, he’ll make sure the chores are divided up fair.”

Adam laughed. “I know how Pa feels about late sleepers, Joe. I’ve been living with him longer than you.”

Hoss had a sudden thought. “Say, ain’t today the 5th of November? Shouldn’ta Pa been back yesterday already?”

Adam looked up, squinting, as though trying to read the winter sky through the barn roof. “Yeah, I seem to remember him expecting to be back yesterday at the latest.”

“Think something’s happened to him?”

They watched Joe’s face wrinkle as he scooped up a pile of horse droppings.

“I doubt it, Hoss. Pa knows what would happen if he gets caught in a snowstorm up here. He’ll make it back.” Adam forked down another stack of hay.

Hoss shrugged his big shoulders and got back to pitching the hay into the horses’ feeders. Adam kept Hoss and Joe from worry, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do enough for all of them. As the eldest Adam seemed to inherit the worrying capacity, even though Hoss with his size was better able to carry it. Hoss took his time to worry about something, but when he did, he did it with a passion that could be frightening. Joe, as the youngest at 15, waited until his brothers told him to worry and then got angry that they didn’t tell him sooner.

This time, Joe decided after listening to their talking around him, he’ll wait until there’s a better reason to worry, not just a single date on a calendar.

 

Becky Alcott, face flushed from running, slammed the door. “Ma! Hurry!”

Anna Marie had been packing boxes of china, part of her marital legacy that brought her a good price for another week’s worth of food, when she heard her daughter’s impetuous tone. “Now what?” She kept packing and didn’t look up when Becky burst into the room.

“Your friend, Ben Cartwright, he’s been hurt. Doctor says amnesia.”

“Amnesia.” Anna Marie slowly stood, grimacing at the ache in her knees. “Where is he now?”

“The doctor’s waiting for someone to come forward and identify him so he can be sent home.” Becky collapsed on the bed, her massive frame trembling as she continued to gasp for breath. “You gonna do it?”

“How’d he get hurt?”

“Someone jumped him in the night, robbed him, left him for dead.”

“Hmmmph. I think I know who.” Anna Marie stared down at her precious china now sold off to buy them another week of living. Surely there was a better way. And if Ben’s lost his memory…. “Becky, I don’t think we’ll identify him. Not just yet. I’ve got a better idea.”

The following evening brought still no word from Ben. All three boys were aware how long a letter could take if Pa had been detained for any reason. Hop Sing served Hoss and Adam their after-supper brandy in silence. He had nagged at them during the meal about Ben’s whereabouts until finally Adam told him to leave it alone, Ben could take care of himself. Hoss took Joe up on a game of checkers and Adam got out his book of sonnets, but after a few minutes put the book back down and sat staring into the fire.

A sudden angry, blistering winter wind whistled around the house. Hoss looked up, shivering. “Sure don’t like the sound of that. Anything stranded out there wouldn’t have much chance of lasting through the night.”

Adam got up suddenly and grabbed the iron poker. After standing a moment he jammed it into the burning log embers, sending sparks up the chimney and into the room.

“Hey, easy Adam,” Joe said, brushing comically at his shirt. “You want to burn this house down?”

Adam put the poker down again. “Pa’s fine, you hear? He’s just fine. Now let’s not bring it up again.”

Hoss held up a hand. “I ain’t saying a word.” In the silence that followed the clock ticking made time quicken more than any of them liked. “What came in the mail?” Hoss asked quietly.
“Nothing from Pa.” Adam picked up a stack of mail that hadn’t been opened yet. “These are addressed to him, but maybe they shouldn’t wait.” He opened the top one.

“Sure Adam, go ahead and take over, just as if Pa was already dead and buried.”

With the swiftness of a leopard Adam leaped across the room and pulled Joe out of his chair by the shirt. “Don’t do it, Joe,” he said with gritted teeth into Joe’s mocking young face. “Don’t rile me to the point of losing my temper, not now. You’re just a boy, but I’m more than willing to forget that just now.”

“Any time, older brother, any time,” Joe said, spreading his arms wide.

After a moment’s hesitation Adam pushed Joe back down in his chair, knocking the checkers to the floor. Joe scrambled up at him but Hoss grabbed Joe’s arm and flung him back.

“I don’t think either of you mean to go at each other right now. We’re all a little unsettled so let it go now, you hear?” Hoss watched him but Adam stared without response at the letters in his hand. “Adam, I’m sorry for what I said before. About someone not surviving out there.”

“We can’t go out and look for him tonight, Hoss. But we will first thing tomorrow.”

“Well, heck, I know that,” Hoss admitted sheepishly. “And we all agreed this morning that he could be back yet today yet without us being worried over him. So, what’s it say in them letters?”

Adam had the first envelope open and pulled out a letter. “Got a woman’s handwriting.” He started to read, muttering to himself. Hoss crossed over to him to read over his shoulder. Adam’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I don’t believe this!”

Joe jumped up and grabbed the letter away. Adam was too stunned to move. Joe glanced over it, looking for the fun parts. “Adam, it says here that this Becky Alcott is…Pa’s daughter?”

“Hey, wait, I didn’t get to that part yet.” Hoss tried to grab the letter from Joe but Joe dashed away, still reading.

“And Hoss, it says how she’s 5 foot 10 and weighs over 300 pounds. Sounds like she’s your twin!” He laughed and ran behind the desk, waving the letter at Hoss.

“Dadburnit, Joe, this is nothing to laugh at.” Hoss refused to pursue his brother for once, and held out his hand for the letter. Joe’s smile gradually faded and he handed the letter to Hoss. Hoss read, finding a word now and then that he sounded out aloud. “Adam, she’s on her way here!” Hoss read again. “It says, leaving on the 28th, stopping in….Adam, we got a sister!”

“Give me the letter.” Adam read it over again quickly. “It doesn’t say how she’s our sister.” He put the letter down. “I think she’s a charlatan.”

“Huh?” Hoss scratched his head. “She’s in the theater?”

“An imposter, Hoss.”

“Well, maybe she is, Adam, but what if she ain’t? Look, she’s coming here long after anyone should be traveling to this area because her ma told her she has a Pa she never met. If she was an imposter wouldn’t she wait at least until traveling was easier in the spring?”

“Something isn’t right. This letter is from San Francisco. And we get this before we get anything from Pa.”

“That’s it, Adam!” Joe jumped between his brother, pointing to the letter. “Pa ran into this gal in San Francisco and is sending her on ahead. She’ll be able to tell us where Pa is.”

Hoss nodded, grinning. “Yup, sounds right to me.”

“But why now? Could be she’s in need of money.” But Hoss wasn’t being swayed from Joe’s opinion. “All right, we’ll welcome her in, as a guest. But we’ll watch her closely, all of us.” He folded the letter. “I hope Pa gets here before she does. He’s the only one who can be sure of this.”

Joe looked up as another strong burst of wind whistled around the house. “It won’t be tonight, not either of them. I say we go to bed.” He got up from his squatted position on the desk, but Hoss stopped him.

“What’s in that other letter, Adam?”

This time the letter was brief and easy to read. Adam’s face wasn’t. “That bull Pa wanted. It’s shown up a week early in Carson Valley. If Pa doesn’t see it by day after tomorrow…”

“It’ll be gone,” Joe finished for him. “Doggonit Adam, he really wanted a good look at it, too.”

“Well, there’ll be other bulls. This is his only daughter.” He waved both letters at them. “If Pa’s not home first thing in the morning, we’ll take action, the three of us.”

Ben stirred, blinking rapidly. A group of Chinamen jumped back a step. Ben picked his head off the hard bed he was stretched out on and tried to focus his eyes before laying back down again. The room he was in was simple, dark, sweet smelling…and unfamiliar.

“Where…where am I?”

“Is okay, Mr. Ben.” One tall thin fellow, a relative of Hop Sing’s called No. 1 Cousin, stepped forward. “You lucky. Sent to orphanage to heal, where some of us do laundry and cooking. No one know your name, until we come.”

“The doctor said…that until someone can claim me, I’m stuck here. You claiming me?” He rubbed his temples as he sat up, feeling better but not great.

“You know me, see me only days ago with new recipe from Hop Sing. No 1 cousin. You think now, maybe you remember.”

“Hop Sing?” Ben pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes. “No, sorry.” He touched the back of his head gingerly. “By the feel of this bruise, it could be awhile.” One of the fellows got the cloth cold with the water at his bedside and handed it to Ben. “Thanks. How long am I stuck here?”

“Must think of way to get you home. Could take time.” No. 1 waved his friends to another corner of the boarding room. “I count on Mr. Ben to help us with sending our grandfather back to China. Now he not even know where own home is. You find me paper and pencil and get doctor, we think of plan to get him home. First write letter to Hop Sing.” After his Chinese friends dispersed he turned back to Ben. “You think hard? Remember something?”

Ben studied hard on it, wincing with pain. “No, no, I’ve been trying. Nothing. Maybe if I were home. Help me get there, would you?” He threw off the cover, a light tarp blanket like seafarers used, and tried to get to his feet but No. 1 pushed him back down.

“You wait til we get doctor to say you travel. I send letter to Hop Sing back where you live. We make sure you get home.” He almost asked Ben to return the favor, but realized that asking help of him now would be like lighting fireworks with water.

“Thanks.” Ben laid back down. “The thought of wandering aimlessly gave me such a headache…” and he fell asleep.

No. 1 nodded at the others. “Hop Sing get boss back, but not quite like he expect. Then Hop Sing can do favor for No. 1 Cousin.” He laughed. “This work out well for all of us.”

Hop Sing shook his head and went back to cooking breakfast. Adam exchanged a disquieted frown with Hoss. It was now set in their minds. Pa was missing. And in the start of winter yet, with the snows in the outstretchings of the ranch going up to a foot, trails to and from Sacramento and other spots hard to keep passable. But they were going to have to look for him.

Joe bounced down the stairs, rising an hour earlier than just the day before. “Pa back? I thought I heard a—.”

In an instant Adam leaped to the door and threw it open. “Pa—.”

It was Filip, one of the Cartwrights’ loggers who’d been with them about a year. A puny and shy man when he signed up with them, he had gained in size due to better muscle tone and good food but remained soft-spoken. “Mr. Cartwright, if you please.” He wasn’t yet out of his 20s but lines of worry had etched his face. If anyone were to ask, he would not remember the last time he laughed.

“I’m sorry, Pa’s not here.” Adam looked out into the yard. “Come on in.”

“Must see him, sir. Problems now, with the cutting.”

“Well, you’ll have to talk to me. Awful early in the morning to be having problems, isn’t it?”

“Wanted to wait until sun is up. Late yesterday, that new lad, he throw down his ax, tells everyone they’re not paid enough for this work. Says he’s cold and hungry, says he does not like sleeping in the sawmill at nights. None of us has minded, sir, until this one, he says we all deserve better money for winter work. Now none will lift an ax, or a saw, or haul one more log until you pay more money.”

Adam threw up his arms and turned away. He stood staring at the fire, hands on hips.

“How come all of you are listening, Filip?” Hoss asked in the heavy silence. “You know working the winter is better than sitting idle, making no money.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Adam turned back. “Because they think they can, that’s why. I told Pa we were pushing our luck accepting this contract. I warned him that we were cutting too rapidly and better off waiting another year. But you know how he gets this time of year, Hoss, he wouldn’t listen. So he hires a crew after just finishing up a contract, and has to hire on new people. In winter, Hoss! You don’t hire on in winter. You’ve no loyalty built up. We always hire on the new people for the marking and bleeding of timber in the fall.”

“Why do you suppose he did it then?”

Ignoring Hoss’s question he turned to the Dutchman. “Look, thanks, I’ll ah…” he threw up a hand briefly. “I’ll look into it.”

“You stop that new kid, Mr. Cartwright. He needs stopping. I only want to go back working.”

After Filip left, Adam turned back. “This melancholy Pa gets this time of year…he needs to keep busy, is all. We’re not always the best of company for him.”

They watched Hop Sing put grits and biscuits on the table. Joe sat and started filling his plate.

“I seem to recollect feeling Pa getting that way sometimes myself. He’s lonely and he broods, don’t he, about why our mas died.” Hoss said to Adam as he and Adam filled their bowls and ate without sitting.

Joe shoveled food in his mouth until he noticed Adam and Hoss standing. With a grin that dropped into embarrassment he grabbed a biscuit off the plate and stood, munching. They couldn’t eat like nothing was wrong with Pa missing.

“Doesn’t do any good to wonder about Pa’s moods now,” Adam said, taking a quick swig of coffee. “We’ve got some problems to settle. And we’ve got to look for Pa. Although whether he’s even left San Francisco we don’t know.”

“Right. Let’s settle what we have to, look around these parts for him, and then set out for San Francisco.” Although Hoss preferred setting right out for San Francisco, he knew Adam would expect them to do it this way. Now was not a good time to ignore other troubles.

“We got three problems and can take care of them in three different directions so we can look for Pa at the same time.”

“Then when do we get to go to San Francisco?” Joe asked.

“We’ll give ourselves two days and then meet back here to pack gear if we haven’t found him or heard any word. Then we ride to San Francisco.” Adam frowned, rubbing his temples. “With any luck, the big snows will hold off another week. If he’s stranded in San Francisco, at least he’s not freezing.”

“What problem do I get, Adam?” Joe asked with a mouthful of grits.

“Joe, how many times…” Adam shook his head. “You were as interested in the bull as Pa was. Take the route east into Carson Valley to the Jacobs’ ranch. There are enough stops on the way to warm yourself. Check with everyone on the way about Pa, someone may have heard something.”

“Will do, Adam!” Joe grabbed a sip of coffee and ran for the door.

“And Joe,” Adam stopped his young brother. “You’re almost grown now, I expect you know how to take care of yourself.”

Joe winked at them. “You bet. And I’ll find Pa first.” He grabbed his hat, winter coat and gloves and dashed outside.

“He misses Pa and is anxious to be riding,” Hoss said as the door slammed.

“We all are. I’m not happy about sending him off alone but it can’t be helped. He just better stay out of trouble. Sometimes I think he has a hankering for it.”

“Ah, he’ll be fine. He’s older today than he was last week, ain’t he? What you want me to do?”

“I was going to have you see the bull so Joe could stay here. I wanted to meet this so-called sister myself, but now…” he reached up to slap a hand on Hoss’s shoulder. “I’ll have to trust you to be the one to meet her stage.”

“Hey, don’t you worry, Adam, I’ll check her out good.”

“Yeah, well, remember, we don’t trust her story until we have proof. As far as we know, Pa only had three wives.”

“Right. But you remember our first concern is finding Pa.” Hoss went for his coat.

“I think I can remember that. And Hoss, take only the most traveled road to Genoa. If you see signs that might lead you off, get back on it as soon as possible. We don’t need you getting lost too.”

“Don’t you worry none about me.” Hoss opened the door. “Good luck with those loggers.”

“With any luck, that’s where Pa is right now.”

 

As was his wont, Jim from the Genoa supply post came riding by the Cartwright ranch later that morning with the mail, unpredictable as ever. He felt like getting away whenever the weather was good, and this day had come up bright and clear and a little warmer than the day before. He rode into the yard and hooted and Hop Sing came running out.

“Hiya, shortie! Where’s everybody?”

“All gone. Only Hop Sing here. You bring mail, maybe news good?”

“Well, if that’s what you’re hoping for, then that’s what I’m hoping I brung ya. Even got one for you here.” He handed them down. “Got any of those great biscuits left?”

“Yes, wait here!” Hop Sing ran back inside. Those boys had been so worried this morning they left too much food behind. He was going to be one very fat servant by the time anyone got back. He ran back out with a bundle packed for Jim.

“Hey, that’s mighty fine of you, Hop Sing. Gotta run now.” With a biscuit in his mouth and a congenial wave he rode off.

Hop Sing dashed back into the house, feeling the chill settle in through his canvas shirt. He opened first the letter that he recognized as Ben’s handwriting, hoping this one would end his worry, and sure enough, Ben wrote to say that he was staying with a friend for a few days and not to worry about when he was coming back. He also said he didn’t expect to take any chances on being stuck on the sunny side of the Sierras all winter. With a relieved smile Hop Sing opened the letter addressed to him. ‘Found Mr. Ben Cartwright, he injured, hurt in head, does not know himself or your honorable cousin. Will send this letter when doctor say okay to send home so you will find him in Genoa by the time this letter come. He not be upset, doctor say, so when you find him, not upset him in any way. He will know himself someday, doctor say, but not be forced. So whatever he say to you, you must agree. Agree? Doctor riding to Genoa with him, so have for him one hundred in Ponderosa dollar. Will need you to return favor. You will find out how when Mr. Ben home in short time. No. 1 Cousin.’

Hop Sing read the letter again. The relief he felt a moment before disappeared briefly before returning again. At least No. 1 Cousin took care of Mr. Ben, and he was still coming home. But not to know himself? And now the boys were out looking for him, and Hop Sing did not know how to tell them he was coming home. Hop Sing decided quite logically that he could not worry about the sons, he had his own work cut out for him, to get the house all closed up for a couple days while he went to Genoa to wait for Ben’s stage to come in. Maybe he would meet Mr. Hoss on the way, coming home already with Ben. But maybe Mr. Hoss wouldn’t find him because he did not know to look.

 

Hoss was in Genoa in time for his noon feed. The town looked smaller with the covering of snow, drifts climbing up the flagpole in the middle of the town square. But there were hoof prints for Hoss to follow a trail, reassurance that there were people in town. He was thankful he was in time for the noon meal because Adam didn’t give them much chance for breakfast. Hoss was worried about Pa, but it wouldn’t do Pa much good if his sons collapsed from lack of strength, which he was likely to do if he missed a meal. The Mormon Tender here in Genoa served one of the heartiest meals he ever had, as long as he ordered enough of it.

“Hello, Hoss,” said Isabella, the lovely little Mexican gal a long way from home. “You here to meet the stage today? East or west?”

“West today, Isabel. Come in yet?”

“One came in late yesterday, maybe another one is due in today, yes? You going to wait in town then?”

“I reckon so, after I check out all the trails around these parts. Say, you ain’t heard any news about my Pa, have you?”

“No, Hoss. What did he go west for?”

“Ah, just some business, you know.” Hoss didn’t like talking about his Pa missing. “I gotta meet a lady on the west stage, did ya see a lady getting off yesterday’s stage?”

Isabella made a face. “A very loud one. You want me to aim you to her?”

“No, not yet, I got a powerful amount of looking to do this afternoon before I bed in for the night.” Hoss knew that if Pa was on that stage, he’d rent himself a horse to ride home on and everything would be okay. Problem was if he was caught out there somewhere needing help. “She can wait til I can see her tonight.”

“You eating today, Hoss?”

“Yes, ma’am! I mean, Miss Isabel. How about getting me one of them great #1 dinners, twice.”

“You got it, big fella,” she poked him in the ribs as she headed for the kitchen.

“Say, Isabel,” Hoss called after her. “How’s Bandito?”

“Oh, still ailing, you know him. One day he’s up and the next day he’s down and complaining all over again.”

“I’ll take a look at him soon as it’s too dark to hunt the trails, if you’ve got a lantern.”

“That I do, Hoss, thanks.” Isabella giggled and disappeared into the back.

“Ornery ole mule,” Hoss said to himself, chuckling. He munched on the corn chips she put in front of him. Behind him a woman walked in and cleared her throat, standing with her hands on her oversized hips. Hoss was sure that if he were standing he wouldn’t feel quite so big.

“Well, where is that little domestic when you need her,” she muttered under her breath. “She served me dreadful food last night, and now she makes me wait.” After tapping her foot, she wheeled around and left.

Hoss looked in the direction Isabella disappeared and in a moment her head peeked out. He chuckled. “It’s okay, Isabel, she’s gone.”

“Oh, lucky stars. That one’s business even I do not care to have. I hope she is not the one you wish to see, Hoss! I only wish she would go back where she came from, hasta la vista, and pronto!” She disappeared again.

Hoss looked back at the door. It couldn’t be, could it? He frowned, worrying over it. Nah, couldn’t be. Joe’s not gonna get credit for being right on this one.

 

Joe stopped along the way, checking every track as far as he could. Once the tracks led deeper in the woods and out of the wind, he would see that he was only tracking mule deer or wolf. At the first shack he found he stopped to ask for coffee and a share of warming fire. He was hungry as well, but he didn’t impose on the miner who seemed not quite well fed himself. The miner welcomed him heartily and had a great many stories to tell, but knew nothing “about no Ben Cartwright, nor any man too rich to bother with mining.” When he seemed about out of stories Joe excused himself to get back on his tracking, knowing he spent more time than he should not getting fed.

The more Joe rode, the more he fumed at Adam for what looked like a merry goose chase. What would Pa be doing out this way anyhow? They should have just gone on to San Francisco from the start. And after he sees the Jacobs’ bull and gets himself something to eat, he was going to turntail home and pack up to do just that.

Adam doesn’t always know what’s best, even if he thinks he does.

Adam was having even less luck. The loggers had huddled inside the sawmill and weren’t budging. At first he tried promising them better winter wages than what they could make on the drive, but then young Whittleby got to his feet and announced their demands.

“Mr. Cartwright, you speak fine words even without your pa backing you up. But we want is simply this. A new, warmer bunkhouse and our own live-in cook, along with wages double the usual summer pay.”

Adam turned away, fighting to keep his temper. The job would be finished in less than a month if they kept working. A live-in cook? He thought they enjoyed cooking their own hot meals from the supplies that were always kept well stocked. He supposed he could find another Chinaman, but…. And this sawmill was insulated for the purpose of housing workers. If their pay was doubled, the job wouldn’t be worth finishing.

He rubbed his temples. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m a little distracted this morning. My father is not back from San Francisco as planned. Whittleby, why don’t you and I sit and talk out these demands in private? Would you men mind doing just a half day’s work for an additional half day’s salary added on while he and I work out a reasonable compromise?”

The men got to their feet grumbling, except for Filip who jumped up, anxious to get back to work. One of the older men pulled Adam aside. “I reckon you go and find your pa to handle this. He hired that scalawag and only your pa can put him right again. He claims your pa made him bull of the woods.”

“Well, Jed, Pa isn’t here right now, I am.” Adam ran his hand over his mouth and took a breath to calm down. “So he’s going to have to listen to me. And you know as well as I that Pa wouldn’t give a new man that responsibility.” After all the men had gone and the door was shut Adam turned back. “What are you doing here, huh?”

Whittleby, looking more boy than man, did not shrink under Adam’s anger but stepped toward him. “Someone who knows his worth, is all. I come from back east where we would never be expected to live in quarters such as this, or work for wages like you’re paying, or eat the slop we get. It’s downright inhuman.”

“You may think so, but why don’t you check a miner’s camp sometime? Go see people who have nothing to do all winter, and have to forage under the snow for food. We give people work in the winter and we feed them, without it they’d have nothing until spring. This is the west, boy, you crossed the line after you left St. Louis and out here you have to be strong enough to live with what you can get and work hard for more. Boston is quite a few miles back.” Adam rubbed his hands together, anger letting up some as Whittleby seemed to be listening. “I spent three years back east myself going to college, and then I came home because of the challenge of working hard to build the west. That’s what other men are doing, they’re looking for their own opportunities, but every one of them has learned they only find it if they work for it.” He sat on one of the bunks, gazing hard at the boy. “I don’t know why they’re listening to you, though.”

“Because your pa put me in charge. He’s the one I should be listening to, not you.”

“Well, you will listen to me because I am in charge when Pa is not here. All that the Ponderosa is prepared to offer these men is an additional 10% wage, and an additional 20% in food supply. Now you can go off to your friends and you can tell them what a great negotiator you are, you got them what they didn’t have before. And you can get the fool notion out of your head that you’re bull of the woods. Whatever Pa told you he didn’t mean to tell you that. I’ll be riding along with you to appoint a foreman.”

Whittleby didn’t move. “I don’t care what you want to believe, or what you’re trying to offer instead of your Pa. The men are listening to me. And your offer is not good enough.” His stubborn face jutted out of his fur lined coat, making him look like an arrogant cock.

Adam stood. “You set great store by yourself, don’t you, boy.”

“I know my worth.”

“Not anymore. You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me.”

“I want you off Ponderosa property right now.” Adam’s fists clenched at his side.

“Only Ben Cartwright who hired me can fire me.”

Adam lashed out, delivering a clean punch across Whittleby’s jaw that knocked him direct to the floor. Whittleby writhed for a minute, howling, but didn’t jump him back. “I said off the Ponderosa. I’m going to make sure the loggers are given a proper foreman, someone with something more than beans for brains. You better be gone when I get back.” Adam left the sawmill.

Adam made the announcement to the loggers after drawing them all together in the snow under a natural breakfall of trees. He got no murmur of protest out of any of them that he had returned without their negotiator. Some even seemed relieved. He stuck to his intent of 10% wage and 20% food and then named the one who had been with them the longest, Jed, as bull of the woods, adding that it was a temporary situation until Pa got back to either confirm the move or make his own changes. But in either case, Adam assured them, Pa will approve the firing of Whittleby.

Jed accompanied Adam back to the sawmill to make sure Whittleby was gone, but he was so talkative as they went that their progress was slowed. Jed was enthused about the icy track down the mountain that took the logs to the river pretty as you please, the first log of the day busting through the night’s ice and not giving the river the chance to freeze up again until after they quit for the day, the icy river holding the logs in place until the spring thaw. Adam wanted to argue with him that those logs that submerged and froze there until the spring thaw may not have much value, but he had too much on his mind to worry over it. He was anxious to get this whole ordeal over with so he could get back on the trail to look for Pa. Jed went on and on about how things changed after Whittleby arrived but Adam only barely listened. His first impression as they reached the sawmill was that Whittleby must have left. But as he opened the door to let Jed in he got a sudden terrible uneasy quivering in his gut. When Jed stopped dead Adam had to pull up short behind him and walk around. Whittleby was laying dead on the floor, his blood a congealed pool beneath him.

Adam bent over the body. “Dead all right. Should be a fresh wound, but it’s cold.”

“You left himself yourself a little more than an hour ago,” Jed remarked. “Enough time for a body to chill.”

“So it was done right after I left him. Odd I didn’t hear a shot.” He had been so distracted thinking about Pa that any noise might have sounded like natural timbering.

“Real odd,” Jed said, pulling Adam’s gun and holding it steady on him. “Sorry, son, I hate to do this, you know I like your pa and all you boys. But it seems to me you were the last to see the kid, and so you should be the one held for his murder.”

Adam looked up at the ceiling and grimaced, his arms raising away from his sides. If there was one thing he didn’t need today…. “All right, have Sheriff Coffee brought here, and let’s get this done.” When Jed paused, Adam kicked a chair over and sat down.

“Well, get some rope and get moving, I don’t have time for your sympathy.”

Hop Sing got into Genoa at three minutes before 3:00. In his inimitable hurry-up fashion he checked the boarding house where he was told no Mr. Cartwright checked in yet. Hop Sing figured that meant Hoss wasn’t here either, but why not? He didn’t see Hoss on the ride coming here, so that meant Hoss wasn’t on his way home yet. Maybe he was out checking trails for signs of Mr. Cartwright. Hop Sing decided he couldn’t worry about Hoss or he might miss Ben, and that would be the worst thing with Mr. Ben not knowing where he was or where he was going. So if Mr. Hoss sees Hop Sing, okay, but Hop Sing was waiting for Ben. He knew the stage’s approach was usually about mid-afternoon, and that’s about what it was now. He could only hope his timing was right. Mr. Cartwright hadn’t been here yet, that much he knew.

Hop Sing ducked back outside again when a big woman asked him if he was from the Ponderosa. He wasn’t sure what to do with someone so intimidating. And the boys didn’t say anything about expecting a guest. He sat on the buckboard and huddled down inside his coat. Perhaps someone from one of the saloons or the restaurant would see him shivering and ask him inside. But they never have before.

If Mr. Cartwright wasn’t on the stage coming in ‘whenever’, he was going to have to find some hay to bed down in for the night. He did not socialize enough in Genoa to get to know who might have Chinese help – if he did, he could ask for a room in exchange for work. But he was not comfortable with the Mormon people to be so bold. True, only about half left were Mormon, but it was enough to send him crawling into some hay for the night, if he had to.

Still, he didn’t have much to complain about. The Cartwrights were good to him and encouraged him to socialize with his own kind over in the Washoe whenever he had the chance. The Cartwrights often told him he was part of the family more than their servant. But now his birthday was only a few days away and no one was around to help him mark the day with the proper somberness and ceremony. All of a sudden too many problems. They could go weeks without having any problems, and then all of a sudden they would have too many. Hop Sing called it poor planning. He would certainly never make too many cakes in one day.

Mr. Cartwright was coming home without knowing who he was. Hop Sing tried to picture a man always so much in control who will now seem more like a frightened lost dog. He just couldn’t get that picture in his mind. He saw the stage coming before he heard it, the snow-covered roads keeping the stage at a slow, quiet pace. He heard the rattle of the chains holding the horses to the wagon tongue but the sound of hooves beating the ground was muffled. Hop Sing hoped very hard. He sent a short Chinese prayer skyward to the heavens.

A gentleman, distinguished enough but younger and dark haired, got off the stage. He turned and offered his assistance to a fine, red-haired woman, perhaps his wife, as she gingerly stepped in the snow. They both stood a moment, hands up, to help another off the stage, a white-haired man. He was trembling, disoriented.

“Mr. Cartlight!” Hop Sing slapped the reins and the horse jerked the buckboard forward. “I no sleep in hay!”

The man and woman looked up as Hop Sing approached. They both smiled, relieved. “You must be Hop Sing,” the man said. He shook Hop Sing’s hand warmly. “Lin Ching said you’d meet us. I’m Dr. Walgrove and this is my wife Marianne.”

“Lin Ching – ah, No. 1 Cousin.” Hop Sing hadn’t used Cousin’s family name in so long. “I am most grateful that you bring him back, take good care. No trouble? He be all light?” He handed an envelope to Dr. Walgrove.

After a peek inside the envelope the doctor tucked it in his jacket. “No, he was no trouble, except for some nasty headaches and being unhappy at not remembering. After another week of rest he should be fine physically, although I suggest you have a local doctor take a look at him after he gets settled in to make sure he’s adjusting all right.”

“Him still not know himself?” Hop Sing watched his boss carefully. Ben glanced at Hop Sing and then surveyed his surroundings as though he found himself in a bold and exciting new land.

“Nothing’s come back yet and there’s no telling when it will, I’m afraid. Hopefully back here where he lives his life will gradually start to replay itself for him.” Dr. Walgrove watched as Hop Sing accepted the bags from the coach driver and loaded them on the buckboard. “But for a week or so, let him stay in the main house with you, until he recovers his full strength, before you put him to work.”

In turn both Dr. Walgrove and Marianne shook Ben’s hands and wished him well, and Hop Sing helped him up into the wagon seat. He was about to hop up into the seat when a sudden shock of realization stopped him. “Mr. Doctor? You say…let him stay in main house…until he can work?”

“You know, keep him in the main house for a week before sticking him back in the bunkhouse. Put him to work gradually. He’s not a young man, you know. Now, if you have any more questions, would you kindly direct them to us in the cafe yonder? We’re famished.”

“But,” Hop Sing whispered, “Mr. Cartlight is owner of ranch, not worker.”

“Oh! Well, my good man,” Dr. Walgrove pulled Hop Sing aside for another quiet conversation. “If that’s truly the case, and I have no reason to doubt it, I’d be careful how I break that news to him. The shock of so much responsibility could be hard on him, after being convinced he works for you.”

“How he hurt?”

“A bad blow to the head, but no one witnessed it. In fact, there was quite a bit of underground work getting him here. Your cousin is a brave man. And a considerate one.”

Hop Sing got up in the wagon next to his boss. Considerate? No. 1 Cousin know Mr. Cartwright as boss of the ranch. He did this deliberately. Hop Sing almost laughed outloud. A birthday present! But not a very funny trick. Now here he sits with his boss, and yet, not his boss. This was someone without strength in his eyes, courage in his carriage. Hop Sing was surprised a man could lose so much forgetting who he was. He slapped the horse’s reins and they rode out of town. “Mr. Cart…Ben feeling good?”

At first he thought Ben wasn’t going to answer. Then Ben sighed and looked at Hop Sing. “I’m sorry that I’m so much trouble. This is really kind of you.”

“You no trouble, Mr. Ben. Just glad to see you all light.”

“This is fine country, isn’t it. To be truthful, I’m glad to be out of San Francisco. I’m very grateful for your friend’s help, but that city was…” he looked away and rubbed his temple, a gesture Hop Sing recognized from whenever his boss was upset or disturbed, but now it just looked like he had a headache. “Something bad happened there, I know that much. I wasn’t thrown from my horse as the doctor said. And yet, what…” he sighed. “It’s a real bother, not remembering. But I have a feeling, in this clean, invigorating air, surrounded by all these tall trees… what do you call them?”

“These trees Ponderosa pine.” Hop Sing watched Ben’s face, but no recognition flowered.

“Ponderosa. Good, strong trees. Why, out here, if this is where I lived, I should be right as rain in no time, once you put me back to work. What kind of work did I do for you, anyway?”

Hop Sing stammered. He was not prepared for this. No. 1 Cousin hinted at it, Dr. Walgrove stated it, and yet Hop Sing didn’t know how to handle it. No. 1 Cousin knew better, could have told Ben right away that he was the owner, and now it seemed Ben did not even know he has three sons. How to tell him? Hop Sing did not have the slightest idea. So he said the only thing that came to his mind.

“You cook and clean house…for me.”

“Really?” Ben frowned for an instant and Hop Sing tensed. Big trouble ahead when Ben realized the truth. But for now Hop Sing knew nothing else to do. “That doesn’t sound hard. The doctor made it sound like I couldn’t work for a week or more, but to tell you the truth I’m so hungry right now I could fix us a 12 course meal.”

Hop Sing almost chuckled in real humor that time. That he would like to see.

“Oh, say…” Ben hit his head, and reached into his jacket pocket. “A few things I can remember, I guess. A note here that the fine Chinese fellow who knows you told me to give you. Fire and brimstone, this nagging head annoyance is really getting on my nerves.”

Hop Sing nodded. Mr. Ben would be all right. Even now he was starting to sound like his old self. He handed the reins to Ben so that he could read the note from No. 1 Cousin. “Hop Sing. Must have your help as soon as you can. Send $10,000 in a note to San Francisco bank in my name. Must get Grandfather back to old country or he will be killed. Think of this as good exchange. If not for your honorable cousin, Ben would remain in orphanage until he die.” Hop Sing folded the note back up. This was a pretty dilemma. Now he saw the real reason No. 1 Cousin told Ben that he was only a worker on the ranch. He didn’t remember Hop Sing’s birthday at all. Hop Sing didn’t know which was worse – having to come up with that much in gold and silver, being boss of the Ponderosa, or having his birthday forgotten.

But he knew one thing for sure – this was one birthday he’d never forget.

Had Hoss been looking for the wheel tracks of his Pa’s buckboard when he rode back into town he would have seen them, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t quite sunset but he was exhausted, and couldn’t see another track even if he tried. He followed every possible trail for miles, even climbing up steep Kings Crossing as far as his horse would go, and found he was on nothing but animal tracks. It was as though once leaving town and the main trail, there were no people in the world at all.

He poked his head in the door of the Mormon Tender where Isabella was clearing the table for a fine looking new couple in town. The stage was in. Hope climbed up into his chest from his gut. “Isabel!” He brushed at the snow clinging to his heavy flannel coat as she bustled over to him with a load of dirty plates. “Did ya see that stage that came in from the west?”

“Sorry, no, Hoss, I was busy hiding. These folks, they were on it, and now they’re waiting for the next stage to go back.”

“Is that right?” As he walked up to their table he put on his best innocent shy smile. “Excuse me for intruding but you’re done eating, ain’t ya? Would ya mind if I ask a question?” He paused as they stared up at him dumbfounded. “My name is Hoss Cartwright, and I’m looking for my Pa. Was he on your stage?”

“Ah, see that, dear? There is another one of them. That Chinaman may have been telling the truth after all. It’ll come as a shock, but maybe it’s just the thing—.”

Hoss smiled sourly as he dropped a heavy hand on the man’s shoulder. “Sorry, but I had me a very long and very cold day riding out there. I don’t want to play no guessing games.” His grip tightened on the man’s shoulder.

“Now see here, you could just drop this meager attempt at a threat, my good man.” Suddenly embarrassed, Hoss loosened his grip. “As a matter of fact, we brought a man who’s called Ben Cartwright back from San Francisco.”

Hoss grabbed a chair and sat down with a thud next to Dr. Walgrove. “You brought my Pa back? Is he all right? Who are you anyhow?”

“I’m the doctor who’s been tending your Pa. Seems he suffered a blow to the head, and now—.”

Hoss jumped to his feet. “But he’s all right, ain’t he?”

“Sure, he’s fine, but he—.”

“Excuse me, I got to take care of something and I gotta head on home to see Pa!” Hoss shook the doctor’s hand a little too roughly. He dropped the hand with a sheepish grin and wiped his hand on his pants. “Thanks a heap, doctor, I really do thank you!”

Isabella stopped Hoss from dashing out the door. “What about that lady you were waiting for?”

“I’m heading that way now. If it ain’t her, and I hope it ain’t, then the boarding house can put her up when she does get here. I’ll send Pa back for her myself. Oh, and I’ll check out Bandito for you quick before I leave, too.”

“Don’t fret about Bandito, he’ll be fine. If you need to check on your pa, then go.”

“Thanks, Isabel.”

Outside the boarding house he stopped. That big lady stood as though waiting for him. When she saw him she forced a smile. Hoss forced one back. She was big, and with a face that could match a stone fence. But then, he was hardly one to talk.

“Evening ma’am. Bit of a cold night to be standing out here all alone.”

“Are you Mr. Cartwright? The one I’m expecting?”

Hoss gulped. This big lady….was his sister? He ain’t gonna hear no end of this from Joe.

Joe rode into the yard, not as fast as his desire because of the snow. He was going to do it, though, no matter what Adam or Hoss says. If Pa wasn’t home he’s off to San Francisco.

He tied up his horse and glanced in the barn. “Adam? Hoss?” He didn’t see their horses. “Fine. You get to stay out later than me, you gave yourselves the best jobs, sticking me with the ‘let’s get the kid out of the way’ stuff. Well, I’m heading out to San Francisco.” Bull wasn’t even worth it, either. He stomped his boots off on the front porch and brushed at the snow clinging to him from the overhang trees on the trail. He threw the door open. “Hop Sing! Pack me some food, I’m going—.”

And found himself staring into the barrel of a rifle, pointed at him by his Pa.

“Pa, you’re home! What—.”

“You can’t come barging in Hop Sing’s house, young fella. Now I suggest you just turntail out of here and come back in proper if you have business with the mister.”

“But Pa, it’s me, it’s Joe. Little Joe. Joseph.” Ben grimaced slightly but the rifle never wavered. “Hop Sing!”

“Don’t think you can lie your way out of this, trying to butter me up with some silly affectionate nonsense. I don’t know what I was to you, but I hardly think we were close enough for you to call me Pa. All I am is the cook here. And if I had a son he’d have more manners than you.”

“But Pa….”

Hop Sing came down the stairs, dressed up in one of Joe’s own good dinner jackets. “Mr. Joe, good you back. You know rules of house. We knock when we have business. Please to take your bunk in bunkhouse. I call for you.”

Joe’s mouth opened wide as he stared at this utterly nonsensical servant. “What’s going on here?”

The Chinamen grabbed Joe’s arm to shush him and guided him out the front door. Over his shoulder he called back to Ben. “Please to put rifle away, this young one be made to listen now.” He took Joe outside and shut the door.

Joe jerked away and wheeled on Hop Sing. “All right, what’s going on? Why did Pa pull a gun on me and why are you acting so crazy!?” But Hop Sing pushed Joe further away from the house, and Joe knew it was useless to struggle, Hop Sing being stronger than he looked. He walked to the barn where Hop Sing herded him before turning back again. “Come on, Hop Sing, cut it out and tell me! What’s going on? You gone loco and holding Pa for ransom?”

Hop Sing looked up into the sky, saying a few quick and choice Chinese words, to the effect that here he was almost family and it was almost his birthday and now he’s being treated like it was all his fault, none of which Joe understood.

“In English, Hop Sing.”

“Your pa, just back from San Francisco, suffer blow to head. Not know who he is now. Was told by No. 1 Cousin that I owner of Ponderosa—.”

“No. 1 Cousin said that?”

“He joke, or give me birthday plesent, or someting. But not upset Mr. Ben, he get memory back, everything be normal. Does not even know about sons.”

“Doesn’t know about us? Oh, that’s silly, Hop Sing, that’s….” Joe sank down on the bench alongside the barn. He looked like he was about ready to cry, but then he straightened his young shoulders and cleared his throat. “Well, we’ll just have to tell him about having sons, that’s all.” He got to his feet, but Hop Sing pushed him back down.

“We tell nothing.”

“Oh, right, you just like being Mr. Boss, don’t you? Sitting real high and cozy in the saddle now, right? Hop Sing, you can’t keep letting my Pa be your servant, you just can’t!”

Hop Sing’s eyes narrowed at Joe. Muttering under his breath, he shuffled back to the house.

Joe jumped up after him. “Hop Sing, wait! I’m sorry, I know I never should have said that. Listen, I know you’re doing what’s right for Pa. And I am happy to see he’s all right.” He looked back at the house. “Physically, anyway. But how long do we have to keep this up? Why can’t we just tell him?”

“Doctor say shock of being boss, being father, being everything and not remembering be too much. He must slowly remember, or may lose all. For now you pretend.”

Joe thought this over hard, but nothing good came to him. “Okay. For now. We’ll see what Adam and Hoss have to say about this.”

“They say no more than you.” He opened the front door, and then turned back to Joe standing alone out in the cold. “You wish to come in, you knock. The bunk house, you be warm enough in there.” The door closed with a soft thud behind him.

Adam sat in the sawmill with his hands tied behind him, the dead body on the floor over his left shoulder. He put his head back against the post and closed his eyes. How did things get this bad? Someone had it in for this fellow and waited for Adam to have it out with him. Brilliant. He never saw it coming. There was no way he could have known what was going on around here. With this many men together during a desperate time of year, and nearly half of them strangers, bizarre things happen.

If Pa were here, Whittleby would have just taken the firing and left. He maybe still would have ended up murdered, but not here, not where it looked like Adam was the only suspect. He couldn’t ask the loggers if anyone had been missing for that hour, being tied up the way he was, but once Roy gets here, it should be the first thing he does. Hardest part was not knowing where Pa was. He wouldn’t be too happy knowing his eldest could soon be strung up as a murderer. But Adam didn’t even know if his pa was even still alive.

Adam counted heavy on Roy knowing he’d never kill anyone except in self-defense. Once he examines all the facts, he’ll see that…he’ll see that Adam had the most motive, the most opportunity, and was the last known person to see Whittleby alive. Even Roy would be no good against a lynching jury that finds him guilty. There had to be a way of smoking out the murderer.

He heard the low din of an angry group of men. The loggers were coming back, sounding too much like a lynch mob ready to try, condemn and hang without any more proof than the dead body on the floor. His throat felt suddenly dry and hot. Jed had to get back in time with Roy.

“Why didn’t you think to bring more than one blanket?” Becky huddled her large body under Hoss’s bedroll as she sat astride the horse he had rented for her. He hadn’t brought the buckboard because he had mistakenly believed he could rent a buggy in town. None were being rented out now until spring.

“Sorry, Miss Becky. You got to realize, like I says, that we been so concerned about Pa and with your letter taking us by surprise—.”

“Yes, yes,” she waved impatiently at him. “Well, hadn’t we ought to move a little faster? Looks like it could snow.”

“Believe me, I’m going as fast as I can,” Hoss looked skyward in disguised disdain. Ever since meeting up with this so-called ‘sister’ yesterday he’d known nothing but grief. He had to spend the night in the boarding house with her because it had become too dark to travel home. Although he would have rode it on his own, with her he couldn’t chance it. She kept him up so late that he actually fell asleep a couple times as she was talking, which didn’t improve her temperament any.

Pa was one subject he and Becky had yet to broach. He wondered if she realized Pa was back home. If he was thinking right, her seeing Ben home could be enough to get some real truth out of her. That’s the way Adam would think – catch her by surprise. So he wasn’t about to tell her that if she wasn’t his sister, Ben would let them know.

Instead he asked her about her past, and how she was so sure that Ben Cartwright was her Pa. She showed him the papers she brought along for Pa, with names and dates and such, and it all seemed pretty straightforward, all right.

Hoss didn’t linger on the thought that she might be a legitimate part of the family for very long. Even with the threat of snow hanging over them and Becky talking nonstop about her amazingly bland childhood, the ride home was a pleasure to Hoss because he didn’t have the worry he had when he rode out yesterday morning. He looked forward to hearing Pa’s stories about his latest trip to the big city. Something really important must have happened to keep him away so long. And then there was that bang on the head he’d suffered. Hoss especially looked forward to seeing his pa in person to make sure with his own eyes that he was all right.

The horses trotted into the yard and Hoss jumped off. “Pa!” he yelled. He helped Becky down and tied the horses up. Joe ambled out of the bunkhouse chewing on a sandwich.

“Hi, big brother.”

“Hi, Joe. Hey, ain’t it good news? Pa’s back. Is Adam back yet? Hey, how come you were in the bunkhouse?”

Joe shrugged. “Change of scenery. Got tired of my room.”

“Hah! Sure you did.”

“Don’t know where Adam is, haven’t seen him since I got back yesterday.”

“Huh. Get Pa back, lose Adam. Pa okay?”

“Oh, sure. Hey, you gonna introduce me?”

Becky stood behind Hoss with her arms folded across her chest. “I am getting a little chilled.”

“Uh, Joe, this is Becky and I gotta get her inside to introduce her to Pa. You coming?” He guided Becky toward the door. She didn’t flinch when he told her a mile back that Pa was home and would be anxious to meet her, but she didn’t say much afterward either.

“Don’t think so, Hoss. Don’t think you should, either.”

“Oh, quit funning, Joe. Stay there if ya want, but you’ll miss the look on Pa’s face when he gets introduced to Becky here as his daughter.”

Joe chuckled. “Uh-huh.” He sat back on the bench and watched as Hoss and Becky walked into the house without knocking.

After a few minutes the door opened and Hoss flew back out not by his own design and rolled in the snow like an oversized horseshoe way short of the peg. Joe laughed out loud, holding his gut and whooping, laughing at Hoss as he kneeled and wiped the snow off his face. Hoss brushed himself off and carried an enormous frown over to where Joe was laughing.

“All right, little brother, ‘fess up. Why did Pa pull a gun on me? Why’d he act like I’m some sort of stranger and toss me out of my own house?”

“Because you are.”

“Huh?”

“He was hit in the head. Gave him amnesia. He doesn’t remember us. We can’t go in our own house unless we knock first.”

Hoss frowned at the house. “Then let’s go knock. We gotta talk to Pa and get him to remember.”

Joe shrugged. “I’m with you, but I don’t think Hop Sing is gonna like it.”

Hoss and Joe stood in front of the door. Hoss glanced at Joe, then forced a grin and knocked. “Uh, hello…can we come in?”

The door opened and Ben stood blocking their entrance. “Oh, it’s you two. I guess Hop Sing can spare a little time. Come on in.”

Hoss looked at Joe. ‘Hop Sing?’ he mouthed and Joe nodded. “Uh, thank you,” he said to Ben.

Hop Sing looked up from where he sat in Pa’s favorite chair reading a book. Becky sat on the couch with a smile like she was lady of the manor. Hoss felt something deep in his gut going hot. This was his house but it didn’t look like his house at all.

“Hop Sing! What in tarnation—.”

Joe poked his arm. “Pa thinks Hop Sing is boss. It’s No. 1 Cousin’s birthday present to Hop Sing.”

“Dadburnit, that’s not…” but he noticed Ben leaning against the wall and rubbing his temple. “Ah, Hop Sing, me and Joe just came in to ask what our chores are for today. You know, what in tarnation are our chores, we gots to get going before it snows!”

“Hop Sing, if you don’t mind,” Ben said, heading toward Hop Sing’s room, “I think I better lie down for awhile. This news has kinda done me in.”

After he left Hoss went to Hop Sing. “Hop Sing, why ain’t you told our Pa about us? And what news is he talking about? And where’s Adam?”

“Mr. Hoss to please ask one each time, wait for answer.” Hop Sing folded his arms and glared at Hoss. Hoss grinned back, jamming his fists in his pockets. “No can tell Mr. Ben, too much shock. He just been told he have daughter he never knew about, this enough for now!”

“That’s right, Hoss,” Becky said from her comfortable seat. “One announcement at a time.”

“Hey, I called him Pa and he threw me out! Why not you?” Joe fumed, waving half a sandwich at her.

“Because I told him he never knew about me before.”

“Now listen here, Becky, I done told you—.”

Becky laughed lightly and stuck a smug face into Hoss’s frowning countenance. “I am so sorry, brother. Well, I could hardly help myself, could I? I mean, think of poor me, all those years without a pa and suddenly, there he was!”

Hoss took an angry step toward her, but Joe held him back. Hoss turned back to Hop Sing. “Why didn’t you stop her from talking like you did us?”

Hop Sing smirked. “You responsibow for her. I responsibow for you.”

“Well, Hoss,” Becky stood, smoothing her dress down her ample structure. “You just don’t have a woman’s touch. Something Pa needs a lot of right now. I’m going to bring him some headache medicine.” She walked to the stairs, but turned back. “I think Hop Sing will agree my presence didn’t upset him near as much as these two fellows claiming to be his sons.” She trounced up the stairs.

“I not happy she here. Or that she tell. But I no wrestle her to ground like I do Little Joe!”

Joe snickered. “He’s got a point there, Hoss.”

Becky stopped at the top of the stairs. “Oh, don’t worry, Hop Sing, you’ll get used to me. You’re only the servant here, remember that.”

This time both Joe and Hoss took threatening steps toward her but Hop Sing put up his hands as Becky disappeared down the hall. “Please to let Hop Sing take care of new sister. Mr. Joe and Mr. Hoss to sweep in bunkhouse tonight.”

“Dadburnit, Hop Sing, at least you could have told Pa we were your sons so we could stay in our own rooms.”

Hoss couldn’t figure out what made them all laugh like that.

Clem riding into their yard at top speed a few minutes later sobered their moods instantly. “Adam’s been arrested for murder. They’re holding a trial at the sawmill with Roy in charge. Roy sent me to get you because he figures you’ll want to be there.”

Hoss and Joe ran for their horses, but Hoss stopped as Joe leaped on his horse. “Well, come on, we gotta bust him out of there.”

“No, wait Joe.”

“But Hoss, you heard ’em, they’re gonna hang Adam for murder. We know he’d never kill nobody, ‘cept in self defense! So come on!”

“Joe, we gotta bring Pa.”

“Pa? What good can he do? He won’t remember Adam any more than…oh, you think maybe he might?”

“Maybe. And maybe just seeing him in danger would be enough. We won’t tell him nothing more than we need all of us to be on Adam’s side.”

Filip stood in the corner of the sawmill as the rest of his fellow jurors took their seats. It was beyond him why that Sheriff Coffee didn’t realize that at least one of these eight men was going to find Adam guilty. Slowly he took his seat on a bunk as well, as Coffee cleared his throat. Filip glanced at Adam, who was looking nowhere in particular and sweating, just a little. Must’ve shook him when the loggers had him outside in the snow before Coffee showed up.

Filip tried to find a little pity in his situation but couldn’t. He had worked for the Cartwrights over a year and was no better off now than before. The Cartwrights had lived off him and his kind for too long. Now they were getting what they had coming. It had all gone together so well, even better than Filip hoped. He was only expecting to ruin a timber contract for the rich and mighty Cartwrights. This kind of justice felt even better. Amazing how he was the only one who knew that shortcut to the breakfall and was never missed at all in the time it took him to hold up and shoot the kid in the back. Winter does tend to cloud men’s minds, he knew that much from working for years as a logger.

That Whittleby had been a great dupe, too, taking Filip’s advice and getting everyone all worked up the way he did. Filip’s own attempts at stirring had gone unnoticed. Nobody took him serious anymore since he took that impulsive swing at Hoss last summer. Now whatever happens to this Cartwright was out of his hands.

“Guess we can’t prolong this anymore,” Coffee said. “We’ve all had a long night, especially you, Adam, since I couldn’t untie you. Do you object to us going ahead without your family?”

Adam’s head snapped up. “Roy, do you…” he closed his eyes wearily. “No.”

“Thank you, son.” Roy cleared his throat. This was agonizing. He knew Adam was innocent, knew it in his heart, but he owed it to these eight jurors and Clem here to proceed as legal as he could. Out here, he was the only law they had. It was up to him to instill a particle of doubt in these men’s minds, so he can get Adam away from here and tried decent in Sacramento. If they get riled and convinced Adam’s guilty, his one gun won’t stop them.

“Adam, you’re aware of the charge these men hold agin you?”

Adam met his eyes. “Yes.”

“You’re aware that each has been talked to and none can find another to accuse with motive and opportunity?”

Adam paused. Some of these men, like Jed, were friends, and yet even Jed seemed to doubt his innocence. “Yes.”

“What do you say to the charge now held agin you alone?”

Adam looked at the jurors one by one, trying to read their eyes. When he met Filip’s intense stare he held it hotly. Filip was the one who dragged him out here to begin with. “Not guilty.”

Hoss and Joe stepped inside. They had pulled no guns.

“You can believe him, Sheriff, you know that,” Hoss said.

“Boys, I’m glad you’re here, but you’re going to have to sit quiet over here while I—.”

“Hoss! Joe! Did you find Pa?”

“We did, Adam.”

Adam caught sight of the doorway where Ben stood. He thought Ben would walked right over to him but he didn’t. And then Adam noticed an oddness to his eyes.

“Ben,” Roy strode over to him. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m doing my best to see Adam gets a fair trial.”

Ben looked over the eight jurors before turning to Adam. He walked to this angry looking man tied to a pole and exhausted from lack of sleep, face darkened with whiskers, and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to Joe. “This the one we have to bust out of here?”

Adam’s jaw tensed as he exchanged looks with his brothers.

Ben looked down at him. “Did you kill someone, like they say?”

Adam looked up at him, eyes glistening. His Pa didn’t know who he was. “No, sir.”

“There you go, then.”

“Now hold on, Ben,” Roy said. “You know we have to—.”

“Why? Seems to me you can just take his word for it.”

Adam looked up, he had heard Pa say that before. What was going on here? Why would he pretend not to know his own son?

“Ben, there’s got to be a trial.” Roy exchanged puzzled looks with Adam. “You know I can’t let him go on your say-so.”

“Maybe. But I know enough about trials to know that this is a mockery of one. If you want this man tried, you’ll have to take him to San Francisco—.” Ben held his head suddenly and staggered backward.

“Pa!” Adam shouted.

One of the jurors got up to steady Ben but Filip knocked him down. Quick as a mountain cat Joe leaped across the room and tackled Filip. Two others tried to pull Joe off but Hoss grabbed a shoulder of each and slammed them into each other. One of them got back to his feet and hurled himself into Hoss’s gut as Hoss brought both fists down on the man’s back. Roy jumped in to pull Joe away but took a punch to the jaw from Filip. Hoss grabbed Filip and threw him across the room, storming after him on Adam’s encouragement. Jed pulled out Adam’s gun and shot into the air just as Hoss was getting set to deliver a punch to Filip’s face. The gunshot cracked behind Filip’s head. “I vote innocent, he’s innocent!” Filip screamed.

Roy, rubbing his jaw, got to his feet. “Ok, Filip, suppose you tell us why?”

“I…I…was being threatened by his brother…it doesn’t count…”

“I think it just might, at that.” Roy held a gun on Filip. “I’ll take Filip here back with me to Genoa where we can talk in private.”

Hoss untied Adam’s hand and threw the rope to Roy to tie Filip up.

Adam untied his legs and ran to where Joe knelt beside Ben. “That was some fighting for a kid, Joe,” he said. “Pa, are you all right?”

Ben looked up at him. “Not yet. But…I think I will be. As soon as you three boys tell me who you really are. Or who I am.”

“We’re your sons, Pa,” Joe said. “We tried to tell you but—.”

“Then thought maybe it was better on you to learn it a little at a time,” Hoss finished.

“Why, you don’t think your old man is…” he got to his feet with Adam’s help. “Any stronger than that?”

“You are, Pa,” Adam said. “None of us could ever doubt that. Glad you came to help.”

“Anything to get out of cooking.”

Adam pulled Hoss aside. “Hoss, what about the girl…our sister? Did she show up?”

“Did she ever. It’s like Joe said, Adam, she looks like my twin. I don’t know how that confounded Little Joe knew—.”

“Then you brought her back?”

“Sure enough, and confound it, she told him he never knew he had a daughter before, he accepted her right away.”

Adam looked around as the loggers were pulling themselves to their feet, grumbling, and Roy shoved a couple of them outside to dig a shallow hole for Whittleby who remained to be buried. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be out of here, but it sure seems like I got out of one mess and right into another.” The three shared a relieved laugh before going back to Ben’s side.

Hop Sing sat at the table, exhausted. Becky ordered him around all day and he had enough. He did not believe for a moment that this was a Cartwright. Perhaps she was raised wrong by her mama, but there had to be some way to know for sure. And he felt responsible, just a little, for the way things had gone since he picked Ben up.

“Hop Sing! I need more hot water!”

As tempted as he was to bring up the cold, he did as she asked. But once back downstairs he crept into her room. To smoke out a rat, dig inside its hole, was an old Chinese proverb…

The meal that night at the house was loud and rambunctious, several times everyone talking at once. Adam shied away from Becky and watched Ben closely, who seemed more and more responsive to memory. Adam didn’t believe Becky was Pa’s daughter either, but the records she presented looked pretty solid, and Ben’s first impression was that she was.

Ben leaned back in his chair. “I wondered about being a cook when my meals turned out so bad.”

Hop Sing chuckled. “Me like birthday plesent but not for too long.” He patted Ben’s shoulder. “Nice to call you Mr. Cartlight again.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing. At least I can remember my sons’ names now.”

“Good, you won’t call me Hoss anymore,” Joe said, laughing.

“Oh Pa, it’s so good to have us all as a family together finally,” Becky said.

“Becky. So true.” Ben smiled with a nod. “Hop Sing, I found that note that No. 1 Cousin gave you, about needing to send his Grandfather back to the old country. I want you to know I’m going to take care of that as soon as I can. I figure,” he looked around the table at the faces that grew more comfortable with each passing minute. “I owe him a lot.”

“I wish I had been the one to find you, Pa. To think you were hurt right after visiting Ma.”

Ben leaned back. “Is that right?”

“Well, I…” Becky grabbed her wine and took a less than ladylike long drink. “Ma figured after seeing you that she kept her secret long enough.”

“Becky, tell me again about your mother, how she and I met, that sort of thing. I just can’t come up with her at all.”

“Oh, Pa. It was so long ago. I mean, that’s what she said. She said…back in St. Louis, you remember.” She laughed. “I think she said the two of you were drunk and having such a good time that…well, a gal can’t always choose how she…” she grabbed her wine and lifted it, spilling a little. “To the Cartwright clan!”

When Ben didn’t join in on the toast, Joe put his glass back down. “And your mother’s name is…..”

“Anna Marie Alcott, of course.” Ben frowned and rubbed his temples as a sudden flash of pain shot through his head. “Don’t you remember her?” Everyone stared at Ben. Becky felt herself start to sweat. “Well, don’t worry, it’ll come to you. Hoss, pass me some more of those wonderful mashed up potatoes.”

Hop Sing crept back out of the kitchen and stuck a note in Ben’s face. As Ben read it, Becky tensed. She opened her mouth but just as quickly clamped it shut again.

“Well,” Ben said, folding it up. “This Anna Marie is quite the woman. I can see now why I fell for her.” He picked up his wine glass. “To Becky, newest member of our family.”

Joe, Adam and Hoss exchanged glances but said did not join in on the toast. They continued on the sly to watch their father. They’d seen him in action before. That look in his eyes meant something was up.

“Hoss, first thing in the morning you’ll take Becky out and show her how to cut the horse’s nails and keep their hooves clean.” He saw Becky spit up some of her wine in alarm but pretended not to notice. “And Adam, we have four more geldings ready for green breaking, I think Becky here looks like a natural. Joe, I know you’ve been dying to get off water closet duty….”

Becky pushed her plate forward. “Uh, Pa, sir, what are you talking about? I’m a woman, I’m only set to do woman chores.”

“Oh, out here on the Ponderosa a Cartwright is a Cartwright. And none of us deems to be treated any differently. You have to be true to your blood, child.”

Looking vastly more pale than just moments before, Becky got to her feet. “I….I think I’m needed in my room….” She ran from the room without a single glance back.

“Pa, what was in that note?” Hoss leaned forward, anxious to be part of the conspiracy.

“Hop Sing can be a bit of a rascal when he wants to be. That note had to have been hidden carefully in her satchel. It only said the very things that Becky wouldn’t want me to know. But exposing her lack of character was a lot more fun this way.”

As Hoss and Joe laughed, Adam held up his wine glass. “Welcome back, Pa.”

Ben held his glass up in response. “Boys, it’s good to be back. Damn good.”

The End