The dreamer watched the four horsemen as they rode. He was flying, like a bird circling, although much closer to the group than a bird. He stared at each man and knew that they were very familiar. His family.

It was a cold, crisp winter’s day. The sky was clear azure. There was a layer of new snow on the ground and trees. It was beautiful, and he took a moment to appreciate it. The only sounds were those of the horses’ hooves crunching through the snow, their sometimes-harsh breathing and the creak of leather.

Suddenly, he found himself as the last horseman. The horse hesitated as the rider adjusted in the saddle. The dreamer felt Joe’s passionate emotions and volatile temper. Ever since Joe had been a child, he’d wanted to have the same responsibilities and privileges as his older brothers. Now he was bringing up the rear, which fit with how he’d always felt he needed to catch up with them. The dreamer understood his pain and urged the horse faster to reach them.

In a heartbeat, the dreamer found himself as the next horseman, the middle brother, Hoss. He was a gentle giant who loved all creatures big and small. He was both more quietly stubborn and more guileless than his brothers. The dreamer understood why Hoss had so easily fallen for Joe’s more outrageous schemes. Hoss was also the peacemaker between his brothers. They were both his best friends.

By now the dreamer had gotten used to the unexpected changes, and the horse beneath him never hesitated. He was the oldest brother Adam, whose brief childhood had died as he watched the light leave his Mama Inger when she was killed. Like the others, he was stubborn. Adam was the only son who would stand toe-to-toe with their father, never giving up. Adam had been given responsibility without authority long before he was ready which was a harsh way to learn. The dreamer understood why he’d tried to make things easier for the younger brothers who never appreciated what a gift it was to have a more carefree childhood.

And then he was at the head of the column. He felt the powerful horse beneath him. Ben was proud of his three strong sons, all fine men. He fiercely loved each and would gladly give his life plus everything he had to save any one of them. With grit and determination they’d realized his vision of creating an empire from the wilderness. His heartfelt wish was they’d continue his dynasty. The dreamer felt Ben’s sadness at the lack of wives and grandchildren.

Continuing to move from one to the other, the dreamer ended up in the one he felt most comfortable. He knew he’d found his way home.

Without warning, he was pulled from his horse, hands grabbed him, and one covered his mouth. The other three horsemen continued riding, seemingly unaware of his absence. His horse disappeared, and he was restrained, unable to call for help.

With a start, he awoke silently and alone. He realized he was safe in his room. His recurrent nightmare ended differently from before. Usually he only remembered the pain of separation and betrayal.

Most details of the dream vanished as before when the last vestiges of sleep left. But now he knew he was one of the four horsemen, and each horse bore a pine tree brand. Most of all, he knew he was loved.

To a man with amnesia alone among strangers with no identification, it was more than enough.

It was the start of going home.

All I can recall of that day was how numb I was and it wasn’t from the cold, even though it was bitterly cold. The mid-afternoon sun brought no warmth as it bounced off the snowy landscape, nearly blinding us as we rode. Puffs of warm breath from our horses drifted through the still air and up to the clear azure sky.

As Pa led us across the icy meadow closer to the tree-lined ridge, no one spoke. No one dared, for fear of losing our tenuous hold on hope. Silently we pushed our horses farther and higher.

As we neared the final trail, my grip tightened on Cochise’s reins, holding him back. This was where it had happened, where I’d lost my niece. Fear of what we’d find grabbed me once more. Suddenly it all flashed before my eyes again (was it really just hours earlier?) For days, Adam had promised to take his five year old daughter to the ridge to see the wintry lake but the trail was still too snowy. Finally, this morning, it had melted a fair amount but Adam had come down with a cold. He suggested I take her. The snow was soft so we rode part way, and hiked the rest of the way to the ridge. She and I were enjoying the view of the lake when she slipped on an icy patch. My arm jerked as her hand slipped from my grip, leaving her mitten behind. I spun around in time to see her slide down a hidden embankment and, oh God! I couldn’t reach her. She didn’t move when I called, and the rocks were too loose and slippery so my only choice was to get back to the house and get help. I marked the spot, told her I’d be right back with help, then ran off. Her silence haunted me all the way home.

As I raced into the yard, screaming for help, I’ll never forget the faces of my father and brothers – shock and horror, and condemnation from Adam.

By the time we were ready to leave, the sun had moved passed its zenith and the temperature was dropping fast. The few inches of snow on the trail she and I had taken had turned icy so we were forced to take a safer but longer route to the ridge.

Pausing at the edge of the forest, I watched my father and brothers move on, then I nudged Cochise forward. No matter what we find, I will face this head on, even if it means losing any bond with my family.

It had finally stopped snowing when the Cartwrights went out in search of Hoss’ wife. They had got a ransom for her that day. Lydia had been home when she had been taken. Hoss was heading to his own house from the Ponderosa when he saw the house was burned down.

“Lydia. Lydia!” He yelled.

He ran to the barn, but nobody was there. Her horse was gone too. He turned and saw a note tacked to the inside of the door. It was a ransom note. He shoved the note into his vest pocket and got on his horse and raced to the Ponderosa.

“Pa!” he called out.

He got off his horse and ran in the house.

“Pa!”

Hoss looked at Ben’s office. He pulled out the note.

“Pa, I found this tacked on the barn. Our house is burned down. Lydia’s gone.”

Hoss handed the note to Ben and he read it.

“I know where this house is. It’s the old Jenkins place.”

“Let’s go.”

“Adam and Joe are in the barn.”

Hoss grabbed his brothers gun belts and took them out to his brothers explaining they had to find Lydia. Adam and
Joe put their gun belts on and jumped on their horses.

They rode in a line. Ben was in front followed by Adam, Hoss and Joe. Hoss was antsy. What if they didn’t find her? What if…he didn’t want to think of the alternative. They had to find her. He pulled his coat around him. The cold bit right through the coat. He saw Adam hunch into his coat. The only sound Hoss heard was the crunching of snow under the horse’s hooves.

“How much longer, Pa?” Hoss called out.

“Not much longer. Just over the hill here,” Ben replied.

Suddenly, they heard shots fired.

“Lydia!” Hoss yelled.

The four men raced to where the sounds came from. They saw the house. They jumped off their horses and rushed to the cabin. The door was wide open. They saw two bodies in the front room. Hoss and Adam rushed into the house and saw a woman dead and another woman at the bottom of the stairs.

“Lydia,” Hoss whispered.