Synopsis: Adam reflects on the special relationship he shares with Hoss as Thanksgiving approaches.
Rating:  G
Words:  7,000

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*I*

*THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM*

 

“Ready, Little Joe?”

Joe nodded as he buckled his gunbelt. “Ready, Pa.”

Ben and Little Joe were dressed for a long trip, satchels packed and their horses chomping at the bit out at the hitching rails.

Adam and Hoss smiled at Joe’s enthusiasm. Adam was pleased at the turn of events. He knew that his father liked to spend time alone with each of his sons. They all enjoyed the times when they were all together, but one-on-one time with each other was highly appreciated.

Adam was looking forward to just that with Hoss. The two of them together in the house boded well for peace and quiet. It would have been the same with his father who when not disciplining was a man appreciative of quiet. Little Joe was a different story. Little Joe was light and motion and noise. Adam treasured the times with his father, a situation he had been accustomed to as the natural order of things in his childhood, or the times with Joe, which always kept him hopping.

Yet the times alone with Hoss were perhaps the most relaxing of all. His father was as stubborn and opinionated as Adam and they often clashed; he and Joe seemed to clash as much as they breathed. With Hoss, words were not even necessary between them. Adam was going to enjoy some quiet time before the whirl of the holidays.

“Make sure you’re back in time for Thanksgiving,” Hoss warned.

“Yeah, or else there’ll be nothing left,” Joe snickered.

Adam and Ben laughed while Hoss grinned. “You’re right, Little Brother, there’ll be nothin’ but turkey bones left if you don’t get back.”

“Hop Sing will scalp you if you don’t show up,” said Adam with a sparkle in his dark eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it,” Ben said, clapping Joe on the shoulder. “We have a lot to be thankful for.”

His sons nodded and Adam and Hoss put on their coats to see their father and brother off.

The horses stamped their hooves, little puffs of breath hanging in the air. The days were growing more chill as autumn entered its final phases. Hoss glanced at the gray sky. “No snow for awhile, but we might have some for Thanksgiving.”

“We’ll get our business done in Siler City as quick as possible,” Ben promised.

He and Joe swung up on Buck and Cochise, waving goodbye as the horses trotted out of the yard. Adam and Hoss waved back and watched while Ben and Joe disappeared down the road. Hoss clapped a big hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“C’mon, big brother, I smell Hop Sing’s sugar cookies bakin’.”

Adam laughed and went inside with his brother, smelling the heavenly scent of the aforementioned cookies.

“You’re amazing, Hoss.”

“’Course,” Hoss said with a characteristic grin.

Adam settled in his father’s chair by the fireplace as the flames crackled. Hoss disappeared in the kitchen. The main work of preparations for winter had been done, and now they could take things a little easy while keeping a check on the last minute duties.

Hop Sing came in with a heaping plate of warm cookies and fresh milk, closely followed by Hoss, who sat on the couch.

“You staying in ‘til lunch?” the cook asked.

“Might as well.” Adam glanced at the grandfather clock that read 11:30. “Is this our appetizer?”

“Sure. Mistah Hoss always have big appetite!”

Adam and Hoss laughed as Hop Sing returned to the kitchen. Biting into a cookie, Adam closed his eyes. “Mmm.”

“Agreed, Brother.”

The sugary flavor melted on the tongue as Adam savored the cookie, washing it down with the rich, creamy milk. He realized how hungry the morning’s work had made him. Hoss must be veritably starving.

He did polish off half the plate and grinned at Adam. “Gotta be quick, Brother.”

Adam chuckled. “Living with you makes it a necessity.”

Hoss pretended a wounded mien but his sparkling blue eyes gave him away. He rarely minded Adam’s teasing as it was invariably gentle.

The comfortable silence both enjoyed settled between them, the only sounds that of the hissing fire and the occasional chomp of a cookie. Adam’s mind didn’t race over the afternoon’s chores. He merely let his mind drift. Hoss was in a state of bliss. He sat back and Adam laughed.

“What’s so danged funny?”

“Nothing.”

Hoss looked suspicious but he relaxed at the look of affection in Adam’s eyes. Adam could have a scathing tongue, but it was rarely aimed at him.

Mutual respect kept their relationship warm and affectionate. Hoss respected Adam’s prodigious intellect and right to leadership, and Adam respected Hoss’s knowledge of animals and people. He knew how to soothe Adam’s prickliness and Adam always protected his younger brother from the cruelties of the world.

Adam enjoyed the comfort level of his relationship with his younger brother. While he usually received intellectual stimulation from his father, Hoss gave him a sense of peace he could not find elsewhere. His relationship with Little Joe could be stormy, exciting, and frustrating, but when he wanted rest and the simple joys of living, he sought out Hoss. Hoss was always warm and welcoming, a big man with a big heart.

Years of childhood together had formed an unbreakable bond. Adam couldn’t imagine life without that solid, reliable presence known as Hoss. He glanced down at the plate and deliberately left the last cookie.

Hoss looked at Adam. “Did you wanna go over that schedule you had for next week?”

“Right.”

They worked on ranch business until lunch. Adam chuckled as Hoss made a beeline for the table. Hop Sing laid out roast beef sandwiches and pickles with apple pie for dessert. After lunch they went out to check on the men who were on fence repair, then checked the herd as they were being readied for winter quarters.

They came back to the house red-cheeked from the cold and with hearty appetites. As he smelled the good cooking from the kitchen, Adam cracked, “At least it won’t be mesquite beans.”

“Ha ha,” said Hoss with a twinkle in his eyes. The long-standing joke about always getting mesquite beans on the menu when traveling with Hoss was now family shorthand.

The meal was merry, rife with jokes and teasing, then quiet settled down over the house as Adam and Hoss returned to the living room with their coffee. Adam read a book in the blue chair by the crackling fire while Hoss read the newspaper on the couch. The evening passed quietly, then around 10 o’clock Hoss yawned and said, “Think I’ll hit the hay.”

“Sounds good to me.” Adam closed his book and followed his brother up the stairs.l Adam was in bed in ten minutes and dropped off to sleep before Hoss began to snore in his own room.

* * * * * *

Adam and Hoss reached the head of the stairs at the same time the next morning, Adam

waving his ever-hungry brother ahead. Hoss readily took the advantage.

Breakfast was a lively affair, and when they finished, Hop Sing cleared away the plates, frowning at the food left on one.

Adam and Hoss helped with fence repair on this blustery day. At mid-morning Adam offered Hoss some beef jerky.

“No, thanks, Adam, coffee’ll be fine.”

“You refusing food?”

“Well, Adam, it is beef jerky.”

Adam laughed in agreement. “We just need some hardtack now.”

Hoss wrinkled his nose and Adam laughed again.

As they worked the fence again after coffee break, the wind grew colder, cutting through sturdy winter coats and fleece-lined gloves. Adam shivered as he looked up at the sky. Gray and menacing, but with rain not snow. He hoped that the day’s work would be done before the deluge hit.

An hour later, Adam yelled, “Let’s go, Hoss!” as the wind nearly snatched his words and hat away.

“Right!”

The hands were also heading to the bunkhouse as Adam and Hoss nudged Sport and Chubb home. They kept the pace quick but careful as branches lashed out, stinging skin and making the horses skittish. Adam glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. The dark rain clouds were gaining on them.

“Better speed up a little!” he shouted over the wind.

Leaves whirled around them as the wind gusted, and the horses galloped with a vengeance, eager for a warm stall and tasty oats.

Inside the great house Hop Sing greeted Adam and Hoss with a scolding tongue, then he drew hot baths for each shivering man. When they were dry and wrapped in comfortable robes, Hop Sing served a hot supper. Adam dug into his beef stew with gusto, and when he finished the bowl he quirked an eyebrow at Hoss. His brother’s bowl was still half-full.

“Hoss, you feel all right?”

Hoss swallowed. “I’m fine, Adam.”

Adam cocked his head. “Your throat hurt?”

“A little.”

“Since when?”

“This morning.”

Adam frowned. Hoss was so strong and healthy that he rarely got sick, but he wasn’t superhuman.

“Ask Hop Sing to brew you some tea with honey.”

“I guess that’s a good idea.” Hoss rubbed his throat. “I don’t want it to get ahead of me.”

Adam relaxed. Little Joe would have put up a fight, thinking that admission to weakness was impugning his manhood but Hoss would always be reasonable. The only exceptions were if he felt he was bothering his family, or if he was forced to take sulfer-and-molasses for his spring fever. Adam sympathized with the latter exception. That sulfur-and-molasses mixture smelled bad and tasted worse.

Hop Sing immediately brewed the tea and laced it with honey. Hoss took it and swallowed carefully. “Feels better now.”

“Good.” Adam felt the knot in his stomach lesson. Hoss might be a giant of a man, but to Adam, there were times that he saw the week-old baby that he had protected in his arms during a fateful Indian attack. He smiled ruefully. Now he understood Ben’s occasional tendency to treat his full-grown sons like children. “Take Pa’s seat by the fire.”

Hoss did and Adam sat on the couch. They talked quietly, the crackling fire warming their bones, then they both decided to go to bed early.

Several times during the night Adam checked on Hoss, but his breathing sounded clear. Too clear, Adam thought with a snort as Hoss’s snoring threatened to bring the house down.

By morning, Hoss declared himself much better. This was good news, as Adam envisioned a cold, rainy day of work, and he wasn’t wrong. They spent the day hip-deep in mud as a cold drizzle soaked their clothes. A calf stuck in mud took hours to free with sweat and curses. There were a few Hoss-sized sneezes by late afternoon, and Adam called it a day, weary beyond belief.

Hop Sing brewed more tea with honey as Hoss’s throat grew worse. He ate a little soup but nothing else and decided to go to bed early, Adam following his lead. He tumbled into bed and fell into a heavy sleep, waking up with a groggy head. His mouth felt like cotton and his throat was scratchy…wait! His throat! Hoss!

Adam dashed out of bed and burst into Hoss’s room. His heart sank as he heard the rattling sound in the massive chest.

“No,” Adam moaned. He laid a hand on Hoss’s forehead and snatched it back. The heat from his brother’s skin was scorching. He ran to the head of the stairs. “Hop Sing!”

“Yes, Mistah Adam?” The cook ambled out from the kitchen.

“Go to the bunkhouse and send a hand for Doc Martin. Hoss is very sick.”

Hop Sing’s smile vanished and he raced out the front door.

Adam returned to Hoss’s room, his skin growing cold at the thought: pneumonia!

By the time Paul Martin arrived at the house, Adam was dressed and wiping Hoss down with cool cloths. He looked up at Paul, who could tell it was serious by the expression in Adam’s eyes.

Adam gave Paul a quick rundown of symptoms and when they had started. Paul immediately got to work.

Time dragged slowly, Adam outwardly calm but close to screaming inside. It was rare to see Hoss so ill. He felt the fear grow within him.

Paul was grim as he worked over his patient. Hoss was struggling to breathe, his body wracked with tremors. The smell of sickness hung heavy in the room.

“Paul?”

The doctor was listening to Hoss’s lungs with his stethoscope. He removed the pads from his ears and looked at Adam.

“The congestion is bad, very bad.” Paul looked down at Hoss. “The weather hit him hard as he’d already had a sore throat.” He shook his head. “Hoss is usually so healthy. I’m surprised at the speed this developed.”

Adam bit his lips, his dark eyes shadowed.

The front door knocker sounded loudly from downstairs. A few minutes later Hop Sing appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“Doctor, man here from one of the mines. Say big accident happen and you needed.”

Hop Sing looked unhappy and Adam felt the fear grow. Paul looked at him.

 

“I have to go.”

His reluctance was obvious but his duty was clear.

“I know.” Adam tired to tamp down the bitterness he felt at the scarcity of medical help in the West.

Paul left some instructions and promised to return as soon as he could. Adam merely nodded but felt a cold lump in his stomach.

It was all up to him now.

The front door closed behind Paul as the rain came down in sheets. In the house the fireplace roared with warmth but Adam felt like ice inside. He walked slowly up the stairs, looking at the entrance to Hoss’s room for a long moment, then he squared his shoulders and went into the room.

Adam held his younger brother’s hand as the wind rattled the windowpanes of Hoss’s room. He wished that his father and Joe could be home, but they were still three days’ travel away. It was strange, seeing his big, strapping brother so ill. Hoss was usually the one taking care of them during sicknesses.

He touched his brother’s forehead. Warm. He gently wiped down Hoss’s face and his hand brushed against the nightshirt. It was damp with the sweat of the sickness. He rose to get a new nightshirt when he smelled the scent of hot tea. Hop Sing glided through the shadows carrying a tray with a steaming cup and bowl. Adam could smell the chicken soup. He saw the golden broth swirl gently in the bowl as Hop Sing carried it.

“You eat. Drink up. Mistah Hoss need you strong.”

Affection sparkled through Adam’s weary eyes. “Thank you, Hop Sing.”

The Oriental nodded and set the tray down and left, the whisper of his apron the only sound in the room besides Hoss’s labored breathing.

 

*II*

*”WHATEVER HE NEEDS…”*

*”Big, stupid dummy!”

“Overgrown oaf!”

“Big as a horse!”

Adam walked around the corner of the schoolhouse. His six-year-old brother was in the center of a group of jeering children. Adam’s heart broke at the bewildered look on his little brother’s chubby face. He was far bigger and taller than the children in his grade and he was paying for it.

Adam glared at the schoolhouse. Where was their teacher? He had little use for the haughty Mr. DeBakey. He was probably composing some lovesick missive to the spindly Beatrice Godey, the woman he was courting, and ignoring the fracas outside.

Well, Adam was not about to let his little brother be tortured due to an indifferent teacher’s laziness. Besides, he was a Cartwright and Cartwrights took care of their own.

Adam strode forward and some of the children scattered. The hard-core bullies stayed, defiant and spoiling for a fight. That was fine with Adam, because he was spoiling for one himself.

Butch Seeger sneered at Adam. He was big for his age but twice as dumb in Adam’s opinion. Anger seethed through the oldest Cartwright as he saw the look of shame on his younger brother’s face.

“What do you want, Cartwright?”

“For you to leave my little brother alone.”

“Little?” Butch’s laughter set off his cohorts. “Man, your big ol’ dumb brother is not ‘little’.”

“No, he’s not. He’s big for his age. Like you.” Adma’s steely gaze bore into Butch. “He’s got a big heart. Unlike you.”

For a second Butch had to process that information, then he scowled. “Lissen, Cartwright…”

“That’s *Mr.* Cartwright to you. Keep a civil tongue in your head.”

“Or you’ll do *what*?” came the sneer again.

Adam walked over to the bully, his considerable height dwarfing the boy “Do you *really* want to find out?” he asked softly.

The boy stared defiantly at him for several seconds, then gulped and immediately sneered. “C’mon, guys, let’s leave the high-and-mighty Cartwrights. to themselves. Weirdos.”

“That’s right, boys, you leave us be. Anyone wants to bother Hoss again will answer to me.”

The boys surrounding Butch cast furtive looks back as they walked away. Adam dismissed them and turned to his brother.

Hoss sitll looked devastated. He dragged a sleeve across his face and blinked back tears. Adam’s heart ached for his gentle brother.

“It’s okay now, Hoss. They won’t bother you again.”

“Th…Thanks, Adam.” Hoss sniffled. “I’m sorry you had to get all mixed up in this.”

“Hey, I’m your big brother. What’s a big brother for if not to knock a few heads?”

Hoss answered Adam’s grin but sniffled again. “I know I’m big and dumb.”

Adam immediately knelt in front of his brother, gripping his arm. “You’re big but you’re not dumb. Those others don’t understand because they’re the dumb ones.” Adam gently squeezed Hoss’s arm. “You’re going to be a big, strong man someday while they end up like scrawny chickens.”

“*Really*, Adam?” Hoss asked hopefully.

“*Really*, Hoss.”

Adam gently hugged his brother, who fiercely hugged back.

* * * * * *

Adam felt exhaustion in every bone in his body. He sat in the chair while the rain drummed on the roof, his hand over his eyes. He could hear Hoss’s struggles. Wearily he rose from the chair and put his hand on his brother’s forehead. Still hot. He picked up the fresh cloth that Hop Sing had brought up and wet it, wiping Hoss down as the windowpanes rattled with the force of a sudden gust of wind.

He felt the despair seep into his bones. He had sent a hand into town to send a telegram to Ben and Joe but the wires to Siler City were down. Frank the telegrapher had promised to send the telegram as soon as the wires were up again.

That meant he was isolated here with Hoss and Hop Sing. The Oriental was invaluable help to him and concerned like the member of the family that he was, but Adam was worried about his father and brother. What if they came home to…?

He shook his head. No. He wouldn’t think like that. Hoss would survive. He would just have to, that was all.

As Adam continued his ministrations, he remembered another time when Hoss had lain in this bed, close to death from a bullet wound courtesy of Rhett Twilight, an Indian scout and buffalo hunter who was out for revenge after Hoss had accidentally killed his brother Willie.

Adam had been alone at the ranch when Clem, Roy’s deputy, had come out to tell him of the terrible incident. His heart in his throat, Adam had ridden into Virginia City with Clem as fast as he could and had gone over to the sheriff’s office.

He left there and went to Doc Martin’s. Paul let him in, his eyes saddened, and spoke briefly to Adam. Adam cautiously went into Paul’s sitting room…

* * * * * *

On the couch sat Hoss. His face was scrunched up and his big hands were clenched into fists as he stared down at them. The ticking of the clock on the mantel sounded loud and abrasive. Adam stopped a few feet from Hoss.

“Hoss…” he said softly.

“Go away, Adam.” Hoss’s voice was drenched in despair. “Just go away.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I killed him.” Hoss began to rock back and forth, his blue eyes blurred with unshed tears.

“It was an accident.”

Hoss shook his head violently. “I killed him. *These*…” he held up his hands “…killed him.”

Adam bit his lip. He knew that had long been a fear for his brother: that his great strength would someday be the cause of someone’s painful injury or death. Adam had to tread carefully. He would *not* lose his brother. Not now. Not ever.

He walked up to Hoss, feeling the pain radiating from his brother’s body.

*Oh, Hoss.*

He knelt down in front of Hoss and gently took one large hand.

The explosion knocked him back, his body impacting painfully with the floor.

“Don’t, Adam! *Don’t* touch me!”

Adam looked up in shock at his brother as Hoss loomed over him. Anger and hate suffused the usually placid face. Adam realized that the anger and hate were self-directed. His heart went out to his suffering brother.

“Hoss…”

“No!” Hoss violently shook his head. “Don’t come near me! I could kill you like I did Willie!”

Adam swallowed. Paul had told him about Hoss sitting in this room, warning people away and staring down at his hands. The doctor diagnosed shock, but was uncertain as how to proceed. Adam knew that Hoss needed him.

Hoss backed away and sat down again, clenching and unclenching his massive fists. Adam lifted himself off the floor and slowly walked toward Hoss again. For a second he felt fear, then he quashed that emotion and calmly approached his brother, well aware of the dangers but not afraid any more. Whatever Hoss needed, Adam would give it. It had always been like that between them. The edge of danger didn’t make that fact any less true. He stopped inches away from his devastated brother.

“You are not a killer.” His voice was quiet, calm, confident. “It was an accident. You are the gentlest man I know. You would never hurt anyone or anything deliberately.”

Hoss was still staring down at his hands. “Mary said I killed Willie.”

“She loved him. She was in shock.” Adam carefully placed his hand on a broad shoulder. “So are you.”

He could feel muscles tense and waited. Finally Hoss looked up, tears streaming from his blue eyes.

“I killed him, Adam. I did.”

Adam gathered his brother close and let him cry. Tears ran down his own cheeks. He removed Hoss’s ten-gallon hat and stroked the fine, silky hair.

* * * * * *

If only that storm of tears had washed away Hoss’s guilt. He had grown quiet after the sobs subsided and had allowed Adam to take him home. The guilt still ate at him and Willie’s brother Rhett did his dirty work, shooting Hoss in the back. The whole family had undergone an agonizing wait to see if Hoss would have the will to live.

Adam sat on the bed and stroked that fine hair again. Hoss had recovered, no thanks to Rhett Twilight and his murderous rampage through the house, but Hoss still feared the consequences of his own strength.

Adam briefly closed his eyes. He hoped that his younger brother could use that strength in the fight to stay alive this time. Opening his eyes, he gazed down at his feverish brother and took one big hand in his own. Hoss could easily crush his hand with a little applied pressure, but Adam was willing to risk some broken bones to let him know that he was here. As the winds rattled the windowpanes with fierce glee, Adam began to talk, time slipping away as the storm pounded the Ponderosa.

 

*III*

*”WHATEVER I NEED…”*

 

Adam awoke abruptly. For a moment he stared into complete darkness, listening to the tick of the grandfather clock downstairs, then realized that the kerosene lamp had gone out. The rain was still coming down in torrents, thunder rumbling in the distance. He worried about flooding, then put that thought out of his mind. Charlie was an excellent foreman. He would take care of things. Adam had something far more important to worry about right now.

He checked on Hoss, who seemed to be resting more comfortably. Hope blossomed within him. Tiny, but there. He re-lit the lamp and made a brief trip to the water closet. He hoped that Hop Sing was getting some sleep, but it seemed like the Oriental could go for days without sleep if one of them was ill.

Adam briefly sent up a prayer of thanks for Hop Sing, then hurried back to Hoss’s room.

Settling himself in the chair again, he rubbed his face with his hand. Hoss’s breathing was much better. Could they be at the turning point? Adam felt a rise of excitement.

He smiled as he grasped Hoss’s hand again. Even ill, his little brother’s presence was comforting. Hoss always knew just what to say when it mattered. Maybe he didn’t say it elegantly or cleverly, but he said what was needed. What Adam needed…

* * * * * *

Adam fumed as he kicked at the rocks by the lake. He didn’t dare do this in front of Pa, because if he did, that would just be another reason for his father to give him a hard time about going away to college in Boston. He had to act completely mature at all times, not like some bratty six-year-old.

Yet he *felt* like kicking those rocks. And he felt like flinging them as far as they could go, and riding on Sport as far away as he could get…

He sighed. Suddenly feeling drained, he sat with a thump on the grass.

It wasn’t too much later when he heard the whinny of a horse and smiled despite his moodiness. This was one of those times when he wanted someone to come after him. That someone was Hoss, who always knew whether to come or leave him alone. He skipped a stone across the water.

His brother dismounted and ambled his way over, not directly looking at Adam. He bent down and picked up a stone and joined Adam in the skipping game. Finally he did look at his older brother.

“Adam, I know you’re all steamed up. Reckon ya got a right.” Hoss skipped another stone. “Pa can be kinda bullheaded sometimes.” At Adam’s snort Hoss added, “So can you.” Adam had to smile at that. Encouraged, Hoss continued, “I know goin’ back East to college means a whole lot to ya.”

“You do understand I don’t want to shirk my responsibilities to the family and ranch? Or that I don’t intend to abandon you?”

“’Course not.” Hoss skipped another stone. “Pa and Little Joe said those things because they’re scared.”

“Scared?”

Hoss waved his hand. “Lemme say this first. Adam, I know why you want to go to college. I don’t understand the hunger ya got inside ya for learnin’, at least not book learnin’, but I understand that ya need it. You’re smart as a whip and ya want to sharpen those smarts with other people who are as smart.”

Adam looked at his younger brother with respect. Hoss had always possessed incredibly sharp insights.

Hoss kicked a few stones. “Ya need to be in that world for awhile.”

“Four years isn’t just awhile.”

“Yeah.” Hoss jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’ll miss ya somethin’ fierce, but it’s somethin’ ya gotta do. Like me here on the Ponderosa. I love this land so much it’s like I was breathin’ it in. Does that sound stupid?”

Adam replied softly, “No, Hoss.”

Hoss glanced at him a little shyly. “Well, I don’t mean you don’t love the Ponderosa, but I’m kinda a nature boy, I guess. My world of learnin’ and appreciation is out under the stars, or in a meadow filled with gold-backed ferns or asters or dogwoods. This lake is like a big ol’ drink of water to me. That’s what Boston is to you. You want to know more about yours and Pa’s birthplace and your mama’s. And you can talk to people who’ll know what the heck you’re talkin’ about.”

Adam laughed. He clapped Hoss on the shoulder. “You’re right, Hoss. Brilliantly put.”

Hoss blushed slightly. “You said that Pa and Joe were scared. Of what?”

“Of you never comin’ back.”Adam opened his mouth to protest but Hoss cut him off. “Don’t be sayin’ it’ll never happen, Adam. I know how strong a pull Boston is for ya. You might like it just fine and want to stay.” His expression was unhappy but he said, “I wouldn’t like it but I wouldn’t want ya to stay here when you loved it there so much.”

Adam squeezed his shoulder. “Hoss, I *do* love Boston. From what I’ve heard, I’m sure that I’m going to love it. Yet I love this land, too, and you and Pa and Little Joe. It might feel like I’m being torn in two sometimes, but maybe that’s a lucky thing.”

“Huh?”

“Well, most people don’t even have one place they can call home. I’ve got two. And people who love me.” His voice grew soft again. “I’ll be back, Hoss. And if I do decide to stay in Boston, I’ll still be back to tell you so.”

Hoss nodded and Adam pulled him into a hug, getting a bearish embrace in return.

* * * * * *

Adam stared down at his feverish brother and swallowed. He touched his throat, disturbed by the soreness he felt there. Well, there was no use worrying about it. He couldn’t get sick. He just couldn’t.

Hop Sing appeared with a hot bowl of broth and honeyed tea. He set both down on the nightstand and left just as silently as he’d appeared. Adam looked at the broth and tea and wondered for the thousandth time how Hop Sing always knew just exactly what the family needed.

He eased his tension-aching body into the chair and slowly ate the broth, wishing that Hoss was awake and hungry. He smiled slightly. His little brother’s appetite was infamous, of course, but that was because a big body like his needed a great deal of fuel.

Lightning flashed across the sky, throwing the room in stark relief. The weird illumination last for only a few seconds, then the room was plunged back into darkness again. He stared out at the sky, watching the fury of Nature dance across the blackness.

Adam finished the broth and tea and kept his vigil, talking softly to Hoss as the night stretched on.

By morning he was feeling ragged and wishing that Paul could return. Despite Hoss’s improved condition, he was wary of a relapse. Hop Sing relieved him as he went to brush his teeth, shave, and get dressed. When he came back into the room he helped the cook move Hoss so that they could change the sheets.

The kerosene lamp was kept lit as the day was dark. Adam wondered if they were going to have to build Noah’s Ark as he looked at the rain continuing to pound down in sheets. He picked up a book and kept one eye on Hoss as he read, pleased at the clear breathing sounds. No more rattling or gasping. The pneumonia was lessening.

By the afternoon Adam’s adrenaline was disappearing. He yawned and blinked his eyes, trying to focus on his brother as his vision blurred and his head began to droop…

* * * * * *

The rain came down in torrents, washing away his footprints as he struggled through the mud. He was soaked to the bone, his hand wiping his face. The wind blew more rain into his eyes as he coughed. Damn, his throat was sore. He wished he had some of Hop Sing’s tea with honey. He coughed again.

His head suddenly came up with an almost violent motion. Had that been someone calling his name? He strained to hear, sinking slightly in the mud. With a muffled curse he pulled his boots out of the mud and struggled to make some headway.

“Adam!”

This time he heard the voice clearly. The person sounded desperate.

“Hold on! I’m coming!” He pushed himself on through the quagmire, his clothes adhering to him like a second skin. He called out, “Don’t give up! I’ll get you!”

Thunder boomed overhead and lightning streaked the sky as the wind gusted, spraying cold rain all over Adam. He had forgotten what it was like to be dry. He kept on walking, his energy draining from pulling his boots up out of the muck with every step.

“Adam!”

“Hoss?” Tendrils of panic began to curl in his stomach. He struggled harder as he fought to move forward. “Hoss, hold on! I’m coming!”

“Adam, I can’t! Please come quick!”

The panic in his brother’s voice spurred Adam on. He managed to free himself of the quagmire and crashed through the trees, ignoring the stinging branches as they caught his arms and face. He burst into a clearing and saw his brother sinking in the mud, his hand outstretched. Hoss coughed violently, his blue eyes pleading as he looked at Adam. Adam ran toward him but was suddenly caught in a thicket. Thrashing around, blood was drawn as the thorns pierced Adam’s skin. He looked up and panicked as he saw Hoss sinking deeper.

“I’m coming, Hoss! Don’t give up! I’ll get you!”

“Adam, hurry!” Hoss cried. He coughed again and this time tiny flecks of blood surrounded his mouth.

Adam nearly screamed in rage as he fought to get free of the thicket. When he finally pulled away, strips of cloth left behind, he reached out to Hoss.

“Adam, I can’t reach ya!”

“Yes, you can! Just lean forward…”

Hoss shook his head. “Tain’t no use, Adam. I’m sorry, Big Brother. I know ya tried.”

As Hoss began to sink further into the mud away from him, Adam screamed and dove in…

 

*IV*

*WAITING IN THE DARK*

 

“Mistah Adam! Mistah Adam!”

 

Adam came awake with a jolt. He looked up at a concerned Hop Sing. “Wha…?”

“Mistah Hoss bad again!”

Adam was instantly out of his chair and leaning over Hoss. He silently cursed himself for falling asleep. Hoss’s breathing was labored again. The rattling sound sent a little dagger of fear into Adam’s heart.

“Hop Sing, we need fresh water.”

The cook nodded and hurried out with the bowl. Adam bit his lip as he touched Hoss’s forehead. Burning up. He wished that Paul would get back out here. Surely by now he would have fixed up those injured miners!

Guilt flooded over him. Paul might be dealing with severe injuries if the miners were even out of the mine. He remembered a time when he had been caught in a mine cave-in. He smiled slightly down at Hoss. His brother had stubbornly refused to give up on him…

* * * * * *

Adam coughed. The debris and dust were coating his lungs. He felt the weight of the shaft on his legs and fought down panic. Philip Diedesheimer was resigned to wait for help, if it came at all. Gil was behind them, probably out cold.

The darkness enveloped Adam as he tried to steady his breathing. Hoss had been eating breakfast at the restaurant. He would have heard the alarm whistle. He would come. All Adam had to do was wait.

Yet it was difficult to wait as the pain throbbed in his legs and the darkness grew more suffocating. He coughed and prayed that Hoss would hurry. He didn’t want to die in the dark.

So he waited, sure that Hoss would come.

* * * * * *

A tear rolled down Adam’s cheek. He grasped his brother’s hand and leaned down to whisper, “I’m here, Hoss. I won’t leave you in the dark.”

* * * * * *

Ben and Joe rode up the familiar trail toward their home. Both were silent as the light rain misted the surrounding countryside. They had been forced to wait out the worse of the storm in Siler City, and the trip home had been fraught with cold and mud and rain. Both were exhausted and looking forward to the comforts of home.

But that was not the only reason for their silence. Ben had awakened one morning in their hotel room with an uneasy feeling. Joe had caught wind of it, too, and they had decided to set out for home since the rains were less heavy. Now as they came closer to the Ponderosa, their uneasiness was increasing.

They rode up to the house and Ben felt fear strike his heart. Paul’s buggy! He dismounted off Buck and nearly ran into the house, Joe following closely behind him.

Inside the house they were not greeted by a scolding Hop Sing for tracking in mud and water. Ben looked up the stairs and saw the cook coming down with a large bowl in his hand.

“Hop Sing!”

Hop Sing looked up and a myriad of emotions crossed his face. “Mistah Cartlight! Little Joe!”

The Cartwrights rushed to their old friend. Ben asked, “Hop Sing…?”

“Doctor Martin here now. Will help with velly sick son.”

“Adam?” The fear that never left Ben over his oldest son’s health gripped his heart.

“Mistah Adam fine. Mistah Hoss sick.”

“Hoss?” Joe exclaimed.

For a moment both Cartwrights were stunned. Strong, healthy Hoss sick? It was a rare occurrence. Ben had been certain that Adam had caught some kind of lung congestion in this nasty weather. He was prone to respiratory problems more often than his brothers and it shocked him to hear that his big, cheerful son was the patient.

He took the steps two at a time with Joe right behind him. They stopped at the door of the Hoss’s room.

Inside, Paul Martin was bending over his patient while Adam held his brother’s hand and talked soothingly to him. He looked ready to collapse himself. Both men turned their heads at Ben’s call of “Paul?”

“Welcome back, Ben.” Paul returned to examining his patient.

Ben’s eyes met Adam’s. The fear and exhaustion he saw there made his stomach sink. He took off his coat, hat and gloves and strode forward.

“It’s pneumonia, Ben,” Paul said without being asked.

* * * * * *

It was later that day when Ben awoke. He was sitting in the rocking chair close by the bed. Adam was on his knees by the other side of the bed, still grasping Hoss’s hand and his head laying on the blanket. He was sound asleep.

Ben heard Joe’s voice downstairs. What was going on?

He looked at his middle son and saw that he was no longer struggling to breathe. Paul Martin emerged from the shadows of the room with a smile.

“He’s going to be fine, Ben.”

Ben felt dizzy with relief. He glanced out at the window. The sun had not broken through the clouds but the day was brighter than he had seen in almost a week. He smiled at Paul and then put a hand on Hoss’s forehead. He put the other on Adam’s dark hair and closed his eyes in thanks.

 

*V*

*BOUNTIFUL*

Hop Sing had to hurry with the Thanksgiving preparations and banged pots and pans and cursed in Chinese, but by Thanksgiving morning the house was decorated with arrangements of leaves, fruits, and pine boughs for a festive air as the smell of roasting turkey permeated the house.

Upstairs in his bed Hoss’s mouth watered. His incredible powers of recuperation would allow him to partake of the feast as long as he took it easy on the portions. He had agreed to the stipulation, figuring a small portion of turkey meat was better than clear broth or soda crackers.

Adam and Joe were sitting on his bed, laughing and teasing with him, and Ben smiled at the family scene as he passed by on his way downstairs.

“C’mon, let’s help you get dressed,” Joe said, bounding up from the bed.

Hoss was still weak so he welcomed the help.

“Joseph!” Ben called from the living room. “Would you come down here, please?”

“Right away, Pa!”

Adam had things well in hand as Joe left to answer his father’s summons. With chuckling and teasing, Adam managed to get Hoss into his shirt and pants. He insisted that Hoss sit on the bed and he would slide on slippers for him. He went to his knees and gently lifted up each large foot, sliding them with ease into the comfortable slippers. He looked up and saw Hoss’s blue eyes on him.

Love passed between them, unspoken as it had often been through the years. Adam’s hazel eyes sparkled as he grasped Hoss’s hand, then gracefully rose to this feet and helped Hoss to stand.

As they made their way down the hall and down the main staircase, Adam could smell the delicious aroma of roast turkey and yams and squash and potatoes. There were pumpkin and apple pies for dessert. He could see the table with the best china and crystal goblets and the dark-green tablecloth. After the meal the fine lace tablecloth that had once belonged to his mother would grace the table, safe from spills or tears. Ben and Joe and Hop Sing were busy setting out plates of steaming food.

Ben would say the grace thanking the Lord for their bounty and for Hoss’s recovery. Adam tightened his hold on Hoss a little more, his heart overflowing with gratitude as bountiful as the fine feast on the table. His little brother had not left him. That strong, quiet, understanding presence would be with him for a long time to come.

It was a very happy, laughing, thankful family at the Thanksgiving table this year.

 

December 21, 2000