Summary: This prequel is set a few weeks before Adam’s departure for school.  A simple request to pick up Little Joe from a neighbor’s home where the little boy is playing, ends up bringing Adam into a world of confusion over what’s going on with the wife of his father’s oldest friend.

This is the first of 2 prequels, the first taking place in the weeks before Adam left for college, and the second story showing his return. Both take a fun, yet serious look at how the Cartwright family faces problems.

Rating: K    Word Count:  26419

---

Discernment: Lessons Taught – Lessons Learned

The Beginning

The tall, tan, 17-year-old slipped through the back door to find his father working on financial ledgers at the kitchen table. His eyes darted around the room until spying a plate of cookies and pitcher of water on the cupboard, sending him there first. With a glass in one hand and a few cookies in the other, he made his way over and draped his lanky body onto the chair facing his father.

When his backside finally anchored at the front edge of the seat that seemed nearly too slippery to hold him, he slung one arm slung over the back to stay put, and asked, “Is L J sick? I saw you drive past on your way home from town and didn’t see him in the buggy.”

Ben raised his eyes from the cream-colored page as his left cheek crinkled. “Who are you asking about?”

Adam laughed. “L J is what the men call Little Joe. They say he might be small, but there’s nothing ‘little’ about him, so they made their own version of his name. I doubt they call him that when you’re around.”

“I expect they don’t.” Ben chuckled. “But I like it.”

“I expected he’d be playing outside or at least come running when I rode in. Even the house is quiet. My conclusion was that he must have been sleeping on the buggy seat, and is in bed now, not feeling well.”

Ben was already bent back over his sheet with the pencil tip hovering over a figure he suspected he’d transposed when entering. “He’s fine. You didn’t see him because he wasn’t with me. Marilou and Tom Tucker were in town, and she offered to take Little Joe home to play with her son, Timmy. I agreed to pick him up around four.” Glancing up to check the wall clock, he asked. “Are you finished for the day or just hungry?”

“We’re done. We moved the big rocks to mark the pasture line in that field we’ll plant tomorrow, but the rest of the stones were small enough to leave be. That ground should produce a good crop of grass, kind of like the Sower who spread seeds on fertile soil in the parable.” Adam tossed the last piece of his rapidly consumed snack into his mouth. While still chewing, he mumbled, “Do you want me to start something else before supper?”

The reprimand was instant. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. You’re setting a bad example for your brothers.”

Adam knew he was poking a bear, yet he’d worked hard since early morning, and had been nice enough to offer his further service, even if it came while chewing. He swallowed and rinsed it down with a gulp of water. “But my brothers aren’t around, and I suspect you wouldn’t be tempted to change your eating habits because of me.” He grinned devilishly. “I know you’re busy, so I did it only to speed my offer of help.”

The deadly stare sent his son’s direction spoke to his unhappiness in being challenged, but it softened to a half-grin of tribute at his son finding the flaw in his logic. “You know what I meant.” The look softened further with a sigh. “Your manners are slipping with spending so much time with the crew.”

“That could be true, but this just seemed an expedient way to do two things at once.” Adam watched his father’s expression become less accepting again and quickly added, “What should I do next?”

“How about you fetch your brother from the Tuckers. I’ll find my mistakes and get these columns to add right. When Hoss gets back from checking fences with Hugh, I‘ll help him with the Lessons Miss Jones sent along from town.” He stopped to recall something important that had flashed through his mind. “Please don’t let L J doze off on the way home. You might enjoy a few minutes of quiet if he does, but keep him talking or we’ll pay dearly tonight. And by we, I mean you, because I’ll expect you to stay awake until he tires out.”

“Don’t worry, Pa. I’ll do whatever it takes!” He winked. “Maybe I’ll let him drive while I take a nap.”

The promise was sincere, since allowing Joe to sleep even minutes would produce consequences for the next several days. It would take the edge off the boy’s sleepiness, and come bedtime, there was no telling how long he’d keep going before winding down again. That was bad enough, but it would start a chain reaction where he’d be tired and grouchy come morning, which meant he’d need a short nap later, prolonging the return to a normal bedtime schedule.

Marie had possessed a near miraculous talent in soothing her little boy. But not even Pa had that power, so the three of them did their best to keep Joe going rather than releasing the unhappy monster that appeared when the child became overtired, yet overstimulated.

“The Tuckers live in the McNally place?”

A nod. “You won’t have to rush back, but leave early enough so you don’t keep Hop Sing waiting supper. Preventing that is of equal importance to keeping your brother awake.”

“It’s just 3:00, so that should be easy.” Draining his water glass, he ran his shirtsleeve across his mouth and grinned at his father. “I know …. I should politely dab my lips with a napkin, but I’m gonna run upstairs and change into a clean shirt anyway.” Lifting his arm again, he  sniffed and grimaced. “That spring sun was hot today, and I’m a little ripe to pay a polite call on a neighbor. I’ll wash up too.”

Ben shook his head as he returned to his work. At 17, Adam still exhibited sweet reminders of his “youth.”  He was glad for the remnants, since this son had  been forced to grow up so fast. The fact that he could still tease and make fun of himself … and his father at times … was a testament to this boy’s resiliency. He’d survived the worst times while drawing the best from them.

Things were soon to change on the Ponderosa, causing Ben to wake in a sweat each morning. He’d made a promise two years ago that was soon to be called due. This sweet young man would be leaving for Boston. Everything in him said this shouldn’t happen, but how could he deny this opportunity for Adam when he himself had left his family for the sea when even younger.

His saving grace was knowing Abel Stoddard would be there to guide the boy and help with the paralyzing homesickness that was sure come. The bigger question, was who was going to help him adjust to life without this son at his side: the one who’d been an infant wrapped in Elizabeth’s afghan when they’d boarded a carriage to begin the journey to this destiny. The difficult years of living as nomads and then getting this ranch running at a profit, would be nothing compared to the hard five years he was about to experience with his son away.

There was no way around it, though. Adam had stayed an extra year already to help after Marie’s unexpected death. Any suggestion of another delay would be honored by family loyalty alone, leaving his son discouraged and eventually resentful at the loss.

Friends, attempting to be encouraging, had said, “You’ll still have two sons at home, Ben. You’ll barely notice Adam’s absence.” It didn’t pay to challenge such foolishness. Each of his sons was a special gift. Having two “left” would never make missing “the other one” any easier. All he could do now was cherish the last days of Adam being home.

Ben tucked these thoughts away as he returned to his ledgers, erasing, and reentering the figure before adding the column again, hoping the sum proved correct.

The Mission (Part 1)

Adam, now washed and attired in the nicer shirt he wore for supper each evening, brought the two-seat buggy into the Tucker homestead in what he estimated was 30-minutes. He’d learned to internally judge spans of time using sunlight and pace. This left him with a sense for when he’d need to start home to comply with Hop Sing’s schedule.

He heard the shouts and squeals of the two unseen boys as he tied up to the rail at the front of the house. Even with “noise” from the boys, Adam noted the difference from when the McNallys had lived here. They’d been a family of “indeterminate” number, as people in town described the plethora of offspring, without meaning it to be derogatory. There’d been a new baby nearly every year, leaving the exact number of McNallys a little nebulous.  They’d been grateful for their large family, but the number of mouths to feed, bodies to clothe, and children to tend, eventually turned their thoughts back to their original  home where relatives could lend a hand and a steady job could provide a better income than farming.

He’d stepped inside this house just once during the McNally occupancy to deliver boxes of food and baby things Marie had sent over. He smiled, recalling that the doorway was about as far as he could get, since the small house had been full to the rafters with bunkbeds and mattress stacked up next to those. It was clean in its own way, but “messy” from the overcrowding.

Before he’d left to make the delivery that day, Marie had reminded him not to judge the conditions of any struggling person or family, and instead recognize that they were doing the best they could. He’d always admired Marie’s heart for those treated or judged harshly, and had always assumed she had faced unkind, undeserved, and unwanted verdicts before meeting Ben Cartwright, to make her so aware of how humiliating it was.

As he looked around, he noticed that the place itself hadn’t changed much. There’d been a large garden plot in the side yard, and it was still there, the expanse carpeted by spring weeds in full bloom, ensuring a fine crop of them for years to come.

He called hello, and receiving no answer, he headed to the porch and knocked. When this also produced no response, he cracked the door just enough to restate his greeting in case someone inside hadn’t heard him arrive. The interior was dim, indicating the curtains were pulled. He could tell the many McNally beds were gone, and possibly replaced with a few pieces of furniture. Quickly closing the door to make sure his attempts to make his presence known didn’t turn into snooping, he jumped at hearing a voice off to his left.

“We’re all outside,” the lady of the house said as she rounded the corner.

“I’ve come to retrieve Little Joe.” He left the porch to meet Marilou Tucker, extending his hand in greeting. “You’re probably ready for that by now. He’s an active kid who never stops moving or talking.”

“Timmy is alone so much that he’s become very quiet. Hearing those two laugh and chatter has been nice.”

“Did Joe give you any trouble? He’s not intentionally disobedient, but he does have a mind of his own, and will spend a lot of time convincing you that you’re wrong if he doesn’t agree with you.” His brotherly description made him laugh. “Or at least that’s been my experience. But his spirit is honest and he owns up to his mistakes. Most people are won over by his enthusiasm and find him most likeable.”

“Including you?” she teased while stepping closer, still holding his hand.

“Especially me. Joe makes all of us feel protective of that innocent wonder he has.” He smiled as he slipped his hand free and took his first good look at Mrs. Tucker. The Tuckers had moved here several months ago during a busy time for the ranch. Additionally, they’d arrived shortly after Marie’s passing, when his father hadn’t been in shape to participate fully in an old friendship, even someone Adam sensed had been a very close acquaintance in the past.

Mrs. Tucker was nice looking, and a little younger than Mr. Tucker, who was Pa’s age. Tom Tucker and Ben Cartwright had sailed on Abel Stoddard’s ship from the time they were both in their mid-teens, and had remained long-distant friends even after their paths had diverged.

What he also noticed, was this woman seemed physically bold. She stood close, looking directly into his eyes rather than stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest: the normal position assumed by a married woman speaking to man she didn’t know.

“I’m Adam, Joe’s oldest brother, by the way. Pa sends his regrets at not coming, and he extends his thanks for a quiet afternoon to catch up on bookwork.”

She stepped closer again, leaving little space between them. “I know who you are, although you haven’t been at any of the get-togethers. Don’t you like parties?”

He could feel his cheeks blooming pink with her nearness and the flirtatious inflection. “I like parties well enough, Mrs. Tucker. But I work on our crew and spring is a busy time.” He sighed, and then grinned. “I don’t mind missing those parties sometimes since I usually get charged with keeping the younger kids busy.”

“I see,” she said with a gentle chuckle. “Please call me Marilou. Mrs. Tucker makes me feel old, and I’m just a year or two older than you.”

Adam did a quick mental calculation. He’d already decided Mrs. Tucker was “younger” than Mr. Tucker, however, her son was the same age as Little Joe, making him around six. The only way her claim of being near his current age could be true, was if she’d had Timmy in her early teens. Marie had instructed him to never question a woman’s stated age no matter how improbable, and he honored her memory by staying silent.

While he held his tongue about her age, he had to address the name. “Pa wouldn’t approve of me being on a first name basis with the wife of his friend. He’d see it as disrespectful.”

“How about this,” she suggested with a head tilt Adam thought leaned even more towards flirting. “How about we have a secret. You call me Marilou when we’re together, but Mrs. Tucker around your pa and Tom.”

The left side of Adam’s mouth rose in a modified grimace. “Keeping secrets from my father never goes well. He sees that sort of secret as the lie it would really be.” He watched an annoyed frown pass briefly over the woman’s face. “I will mention to Pa that you’d prefer I use your first name and abide by his decision.”

Marilou looked directly into his eyes with one hand now resting on his chest. “You’re old enough to work as a ranch hand,” she said as she moved her hand to his face and trailed her fingers down his cheek. “You’re old enough to shave and take responsibility for your brothers, but you have to check with your father before using my first name? What sort of tyrant is he?” she asked, as that same hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Not a tyrant, Ma’am. Just a man I respect as the head of our family.”

“But you’re a man too, aren’t you? Maybe it’s time you tell him what you’re thinking instead of asking for his blessing on your thoughts.”

“We’re a close family, Mrs. Tucker.” Adam took a step back to widen the gap and make her remove her hand.  “The way we operate, with Pa as the captain of our ship, has kept us going through some very rough weather. He has my respect because he deserves it, and his rules provide order in what could otherwise prove a chaotic life.”

Her expression changed immediately as she laughed and stepped closer again, now using both hands to grasp his muscled arms. “I was just teasing. But … you are an exceptionally handsome man, and it’s hard to think of you still under your father’s thumb.” Noticing the darkening blush in Adam’s cheeks, she added. “What’s the matter? Don’t people tell you how good-looking you are?”

“Sure,” he said, followed by a nervous laugh. “But it’s usually a grandmother, who says it while pinching my cheek.”

The comeback made them both laugh and released some of the odd tension Adam was feeling.

The release didn’t last long as Marilou moved her hands along his arms, causing the hair to tingle where his sleeves were rolled up. “Well, I’m not anyone’s grandma, and I know a handsome man when I see one. There aren’t a lot of men your age around here, which leaves me wondering whether there’s a woman in your life? Someone you’re currently courting or soon to ask for her hand in marriage?”

Another step back distanced him from her as his body began to react in ways that might cause great embarrassment if allowed to continue. “Nope. I’m leaving for Boston to attend college as soon as a professor I’ve been studying with, gets back to accompany me.”

“Smart and handsome,” she cooed. “That’s an intriguing combination.” Marilou again closed the gap between them. “Does that mean you’ve never kissed a woman?”

Adam’s eye grew large as he felt heat growing in places he knew he had, but always kept in check so as not to “think” with the wrong part of his anatomy: a condition his father always cautioned against.

He recalled private talks where this topic had been quietly, but sternly addressed. “You have goals for your future, son. One day, you will know the full joy these feelings bring, but it’s not something you dabble in. The consequence can be life altering.”

Adam knew exactly what that consequence was, as he had already witnessed two couples even younger than him, forced into marriage when momentary decisions left them with a debt to be paid in lifelong commitments.

He’d just come to get his brother, and surely hadn’t expected any conversation like “this” with a stranger. Her actions seemed deliberate. But why! Was she expecting he’d react naively so she could have a good laugh at his expense, or was she hoping for some strange liaison while two youngsters were playing in the back yard.

What he did know, was that nothing about “this” felt right, so he stepped away while asking, “Is Mr. Tucker around? Pa asked me to say hello.”

“He’ll come in from the field at dusk,” she replied in the irritated tone from earlier.

“Then I’ll miss him since Joe and I should get going.” Hearing Joe’s loud laugh from behind the house, he added, “Sounds like those two are having a good time,” before walking in the direction of their voices.

“Wait, Adam.” She caught his arm. “Let them play while you enjoy a cool drink on the porch with me. I don’t get callers out here, so having someone my age stop by makes me feel a bit playful. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” She laughed. “Perhaps you’ll understand me better if you hear about my situation.”

Her situation, he thought. Why would she want to divulge her “situation” to a stranger, especially one in their teens. What he did know was how much Little Joe liked being around other kids: an infrequent opportunity based on distance and the unending work on farms and ranches. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, and that’s what he finally told his hostess.

His decision was welcomed with a bright smile. “Come in and help me carry things to the porch,” she said as she walked ahead to the front of the house and up the steps to the door. Stopping before opening it, she said, “Please excuse the mess inside. With the boys here, I haven’t had time to tidy the house today.”

When Adam’s eyes adjusted to the filtered light of the interior, he had to keep from laughing at her apology about not tidying up “today.” In fact, the conditions inside matched what he’d observed as he’d glanced around while talking outside. The garden, when seen closer, hadn’t even been turned over yet, while most folks were already harvesting early crops like spinach, lettuce and green onions. He’d spotted wash lines beyond the garden drooping under the weight of dirty gray sheets and towels, along with board-stiff clothing. The state of the laundry indicated it hadn’t been washed or rinsed properly and had hung long enough to bake solid over the last few warm days. He’d even shivered to think how uncomfortable it would be to don a pair of those pants, and had given a quick thanks for Hop Sing’s efforts to keep them comfortable.

The huge garbage pile in the distance needed to be burned, and as he’d walked back to the porch, he’d nearly tripped over a spade and shovel hiding in the long grass. Their rusting edges implied they’d been used and abandoned in the elements for some time. And worst of all had been the smell of chicken coops and pig pens wafting towards them on the westerly breeze. Cleaning the coops and pens was the worst job on the Ponderosa, but it was done frequently to prevent this condition. He began to wonder whether the “situation” she had mentioned was simply that she was far behind in normal chores.

Marilou pushed the kitchen curtain aside for more light, allowing the interior mess to become more visible.  The furniture he’d seen from the door earlier, was draped with clothing in need of folding or washing, but their condition gave no clear indication which was the case. The sideboard held teetering stacks of dirty dishes and pots. And his boots made a ripping sound as they stuck to the dirty floor when he walked. Gooey egg yolk and bacon grease covered the piled plates on the table that were currently hosting a picnic for a family of flies.

Adam had been to homes where housekeeping was lax, but he’d never seen anything like this where there was adequate income and just three inhabitants. Recalling Marie’s warning not to judge, he did still allow a moment of astonishment.

He’d been raised by a single father whose insistence on organization had kept their homes from ever becoming like this. This was true now, but had held true in their boarding house rooms and their prairie schooner. Ship life had imbued his father with the importance of properly stowing everything. And with “everything” so hard to come by out here, they were careful with their possessions. Each Cartwright was responsible for keeping their own things orderly from the time they were able, and for taking on chores that benefited everyone. What he knew to be true, was that an orderly life took less time than having to find time to do the kind of cleaning needed here. An ordered, clean home and life had another benefit in that it was comforting to the mind and spirit. Who could think straight amid such chaos.

A further disconcerting quality in this house was the odor from fouling food and pans of dirty water. This all pointed to a lack of regular effort rather than a mess created by a one-time change of schedule, leaving him to wonder whether she was oblivious to the actual conditions.

His pondering ceased as she pulled a water pitcher from behind a stack of dirty dishes and ran a filthy dishrag around the interior before filling it from the kitchen pump: a luxury most farm homes didn’t have. She handed him the pitcher, and found two “clean” glasses on a shelf above the sink that she also passed to him, before rummaging on the table, finally pulling out a plate of “cake” from the mess he’d just seen covered with flies.

“Let’s get acquainted while you enjoy a treat,” she said, holding the door open for him.

As they were settling into chairs at the outdoor table, the two boys came running around the front of the house with Little Joe sliding to a stop at seeing his brother.

His wide smile turned to a pout. “I s’pose I gotta go home,” he stated without disguising his disappointment.

“Soon,” Adam answered. “I’m going to talk with Mrs. Tucker a few minutes. Finish your game and help Timmy clean up the things you played with.”

Satisfied with a short reprieve, the boys ran off again, their squealing voices flowing behind them like streamers.

Marilou filled the glasses with water, pushing one towards Adam. “You must need this. The dust out here just chokes me.”

“I’m outside all the time and have gotten used to it.” Remembering the unsanitary condition of the pitcher, Adam pretended to sip and returned the glass to the table, while raising his hand in refusal of cake, truthfully claiming he’d had something before leaving home.

With her hostess duties completed, she asked, “People say the Cartwrights were here before there was even a town. Is that true?”

“What you know as town, was a small trading post when we arrived, run by a couple who dealt with the Paiute, Washoe, and early trappers working the rivers and mountain streams to the west and north. We trapped on the land Pa had purchased, living in a tiny cabin uphill near streams during winter pelt seasons, and in a lean-to during the summer located where our house is now. We’d plant a garden for winter vegetable there and set out areas to be pastures, until Pa saved enough to add more acres and buy our first cattle. The Cass family arrived a few years after us; bought the trading post, and with supply trains making it to this area from the across the Sierras, he turned it into a general store. That served as an anchor for others who decided to stay put instead of crossing over to California. With enough people to support new businesses, we got a boarding house, a blacksmith, and a seamstress, to take root as what might become a town one day.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Here …. 10 years, but we left Boston when I was a few months old. My parents had decided to homestead out here, and my mother made Pa promise to do as they’d planned no matter what. She died soon after I was born and Pa upheld his promise. It took the two of us five years to get to St. Joe, Missouri, with Pa working along the way while saving up and letting me grow a little before trekking across the plains. At our last stop before Missouri, Pa met Hoss’ mother. They married, but she died during the trip.”

“You’re saying your father arrived here alone with two small children and built the Ponderosa?” Her lips pulled to a pucker. “He must have married again. Didn’t Little Joe’s mother pass around the time we arrived?”

“That was Marie. They met when Pa went to New Orleans to sell pelts at top prices to use for our cattle business.

“So how old were you and Hoss when you got here?

“I was nearly seven, and Hoss around eighteen months.” Adam shook his head. “It’s amazing what Pa accomplished in ten years. I helped too. At first by watching Hoss and keeping up the cabin so he could trap as much as possible, and then more responsibility as I was able. After a few years, Pa could finally a couple trappers to hire on as hands, and he had a real house built while he was in New Orleans.”

Her lower lip dropped. “So … you’re 17? Maybe you seem older because you’ve had so much responsibility put on your shoulders.”

“I don’t think of it that way. I would have done anything to help Pa. It was always our place, not just his.”

“You mentioned going back to Boston soon. There must be something powerful drawing you there. Something to make you leave the home you claim to feel so connected to. What is that?”

Despite the unclean living conditions and her strange behavior when he arrived, this conversation was nice. She’d even asked something no one else bothered with when he’d first told others he was going. He began to relax, thinking that she had been teasing him earlier to gage his reaction.

“I appreciate you asking why I’d want to leave. Most times I hear that I’m crazy to want this. They say I’ll be rich one day so why not stay put; get married, and forget the school nonsense. They don’t care why I want to go, and they judge me wrong to leave.”

“So … what’s the answer?”

“Good universities are part of it. Living as we have; I never attended school, as in a building with other students and a teacher. Pa made sure I learned the basics from the time I could talk. There were teachers in the wagon train, and a lady here helped me complete all my primary courses. Marie was well-educated, and helped me through secondary school books. Everyone says I’m smart, even though they think it’s a worthless attribute for someone who will make their living ranching. But I’d like to know if I can keep up with those who’ve had a formal education.”

“It’s a challenge then. But aren’t there universities closer?”

“I’ve wanted to do this from the first time I heard about the respected schools back East. And my grandfather still lives in Boston, so I can get to know him while I’m there.” He chuckled to himself. “I’ll come home afterwards, and it might be a really short trip if I don’t qualify for admission to any university.”

“Your father supports this decision?”

“He’s always listened to my ideas and supports them when they are reasonable. He may be getting more wary and worried as the time comes to leave, but he’ll honor his promise.

“How wonderful to have a someone who regards you enough to listen rather than dismiss everything you say because they ‘know better,’ or believe that having a dream will come to no good.”

A shout from the back yard reminded Adam that he had limited time before he had to leave. “Enough about me. You mentioned your situation?”

Marilou sighed deeply. “I was the oldest child like you, but in a big family, so I was expected to help care for everything when I was barely able to take care of myself. My family kept growing, and I felt trapped because they needed more and more help. I’d hoped to get away just enough to go to school in town, but Ma said no because she needed my help more than I needed school. At least she had Papa teach me to read and do figures because she never learned those things. Papa had gone to school and he managed to have a little learning time each morning with those of us old enough to catch on.

“Reading came easy, and I learned arithmetic so good, he had me help him do figuring for the farm on top of all the other chores. I asked to work at a store in Lancaster when I got to my teens, thinking the younger kids could help Ma, and I could earn a little money with my reading and arithmetic, since the farm never made ends meet. But Mama accused me of wanting to meet the men in town and run off.”

Although Mrs. Turner’s story sounded very much like most farm-family situations, Adam could accept there was frustration at being kept from trying new things. And yet, parents make hard decisions that kids can’t understand. He had just told this woman that he’d never been able to attend school either, and this opportunity to return to Boston, came at the end of a 17-year journey in which he’d been doing pretty much the same thing she had just mentioned. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she began speaking again.

“We did business with the Tucker family, and Tim, Tom’s younger brother, got sweet on me. He promised to make my life more exciting if I’d marry him, and I admit I believed he’d take me away. Tom was away at sea by then, so I didn’t know him.” She thought a moment. “Do you know that Tom is not Timmy’s father?”

“Pa mentioned that you and Tom’s brother were married, but he died shortly before Tim was born. If I recall, Tom left the Merchant Marine to come home and help, and he eventually asked you to marry him.”

“Forced me to marry him is more like it. He said he’d take Timmy away if I didn’t. Tom is a jealous man who watches my every move. He resents me having friends my age, and he brought me out here so I’m far away from everyone.”

“Getting used to all this quiet does take time,” Adam agreed. The turn her story just took, seemed as off-kilter as her earlier actions, yet he had no evidence of it being a lie. It was improbable that a man as “controlling” as she described Tom Tucker, would allow these living conditions to go unresolved.

Attempting to turn the conversation away from complaints about her husband, he offered, “There are young married women here with kids Timmy’s age. Pa could introduce you, and you’d have fun getting to know them.

Her tone turned sullen. “Fun? I don’t know what fun is! I married Tim because he promised we’d sell his farm and move to a city. But after we married, he said the farm wouldn’t give us enough cash to move, so we had to stay put until he could make the place worth more. He never got it to that point, so it felt like I escaped one prison and ended up in another. He left me with nothing when he died and I had to accept Tom’s demands. I have never been allowed to make my own decisions or find joy in life!”

Adam noticed her complexion becoming beet red as her voice rose in octave and volume during this explanation. He wasn’t sure what to say. Life didn’t usually go as you demanded, and the one sure thing, was that any success came with hard work and constant effort. In his experience, there was no law guaranteeing anyone a “fun or joyful life” either. Fun was something you chose to find no matter what might be happening, and joy came from living well in any circumstance. His father was a stickler about getting the work done, but he encouraged them to find something good and joyful in every hard thing they did.

Further, keeping up with daily chores like housework, gardening, and maintaining the animal pens and garbage, meant his family found time for things they enjoyed more, like a day of fishing; a picnic and swimming, or exploring their land. Even during their years of travel, his father had brought fun into long days on the road. They’d played word and spotting games, or Pa had read or told stories while driving the wagon. As he’d gotten older, he’d taken over reading. And since he had always loved learning things, his father had included him in every chance to see how things were done.

Another thought struck him. “Having Timmy must bring a lot of fun to your life.”

Marilou shrugged. “He’s a good boy. But sometimes ….” Her voice drifted off.

“Sometimes?” he asked, even while suspecting he shouldn’t.

“Sometimes I wish I had just run away from home instead of believing Tim would treat me better. I would have made friends and done whatever I pleased. I want Timmy’s life to be better than mine …. It’s why I invited Little Joe today.” She quieted again and looked past him as though seeing some far-away place. “But sometimes I envy that Timmy gets to be a kid, while I never did. Sometimes … I resent that I can’t run away now because of him.”

He was left speechless by this admission. He’d witnessed others take on huge responsibility during life’s unexpected turns without resentment, especially when it came to children. Pa was one of them. Didn’t Marilou Tucker see that? And even if his pa had ever thought his life would be easier without his sons, he would have sought trusted counsel from a pastor or close friend, not blurted it out to a kid he was meeting for the first time.

“You think I’m an awful person,” she whimpered.” But now you know the truth and can be on my side. I feel younger just talking to you.” She rose; moved behind him, and whispered in his ear. “Please be my friend.”

Adam felt his fresh shirt dampening again when she leaned in for a hug and peck on his cheek, he shot upwards and took the two porch steps in one leap. “It’s time we get moving.” He nearly ran to the back yard, where he told Joe to say goodbye and thank the Tuckers for the nice afternoon while tugging him towards the buggy.

Marilou Tucker stood on the porch as Adam tossed Little Joe onto the seat and climbed in after him.  “Timmy and I both made a good friend today,” she shouted as he pulled the team back enough to turn them towards home.

Escape to the Ponderosa

Feeling sticky in a few different ways, Adam raised his arms, hoping to dry his sweaty shirt in the breeze. His quick exit felt nearly like he’d made an escape to get home again. But thoughts about his own experience were set aside in favor of getting Little Joe talking.

“Did you have a good time?” he began. Joe’s  simple nod prompted another question. “What did you two do?”

Joe’s eyes widened along with his smile as he slipped under the reins and onto his brother’s lap. “Timmy’s pa made him a toy farm! Next time you gotta look, Adam. It’s got a barn, a cabin, and all kinds of animals, fences, water troughs, and wagons. And everything works like real!” The boy ended as he ran out of breath.

“Don’t stop now, Joe,” he teased.

“We didn’t just play with that.”

“I wouldn’t think so. What else?”

Joe continued talking, describing each activity. Adam kept him talking by saying, “Oh,” and “That sounds like fun,” and “Un huh,” at intervals. The horse knew his way and kept his pace while the older brother half-listened, and half recalled all that Timmy’s mother had revealed.

What had started strangely, took a nice turn to normal on the porch. She’d listened to what he’d said and asked insightful question. Yet when she’d described her “situation,” he had difficulty understanding how it differed from most others, deciding finally that what was different was her response. There was something that had wounded her, and was still hurting her more than having to help with chores.

He’d been uncomfortable with the state of the Tucker place, and had become even more so when she’d talked about Mr. Tucker’s treatment of her. Nothing he’d observed about Pa’s old friend had indicated he was a harsh man. It was the opposite. Tom Tucker seemed a good, honest, and upright man, much like his own father.

Tipping the scales further in Tom’s favor was that there was no gossip in town about him mistreating his wife. Next to a party, gossip was the highest form of entertainment in their small community. Even the ranch hands shared the latest “news” heard at the saloon at their campfires. The absence of gossip in this case, would seem to indicate an absence of cause.

None of this guaranteed it wasn’t happening, yet he couldn’t ask Pa, “Are you aware your friend Tom isn’t who you think he is?” His father didn’t listen to gossip. More correctly, Ben Cartwright heard gossip, but advocated for there being two sides in the story.

Feeling a tug on his shirt, Adam realized Little Joe had quieted and was staring up at him.

“Are you even listening?” the youngster said accusingly. “You ain’t said a word in some time.”

“Sorry, squirt,” he admitted. “I was thinking about meeting Mrs. Tucker.”

“Ya mean Marilou?”

“What did you call her?”

“She said to call her Marilou cuz she didn’t wanna feel like an old lady.”

“I see.” Adam pursed his lips. “Just call her Mrs. Tucker, Joe. It’s the respectful way to address the mother of a friend.”

“I did that.”

“Smart boy!” he replied with admiration while giving the boy a sturdy hug.

“Can you make the horse go faster?” Joe asked. “I’m really hungry. Maybe Hop Sing will have supper a little early.”

“Did Mrs. Tucker give you and Timmy something to eat?”

“Sort of. She brought out cake that had things on top that didn’t look so good.”

A loud laugh. “What sorts of things?”

“They were small and black … like mouse poop.”

“Maybe it was seeds,” Adam replied even as he imagined flies he’d seen on the cake she’d offered him, and suspected his little brother had the right element, but the wrong supply agent. “You didn’t tell her what you thought did you?”

Joe looked wounded. “Pa always says to say nothing if you can’t be nice. I said I wasn’t hungry, and that was true, cuz Pa bought Timmy and me jelly beans from Cass’ store. But boy, am I now!”

The older brother noticed that his stomach was growling too, and encouraged the large horse to a faster trot.

___

While eating the supper Hop Sing had hurriedly served after hearing Little Joe’s rumbling midsection, Ben asked the boy about his day, and received the same enthusiastic details he’d given Adam.

“So, you like Timmy,” Ben concluded. Joe nodded while taking a swallow of milk. “Did you two play nicely so Timmy’s mother could get her chores done?”

“I don’t think Timmy’s ma does much chores ever, Pa.”

Little Joe’s answer came very close to making Adam blow his own swig of milk out his nose.

Ben’s eye widened as he looked towards Adam and then back to the boy. “What do you mean, son?”

“Timmy’s pa got the farm stuff out for us to play with, and then went inside. We heard his ma and pa arguin’ pretty loud about how she’d let the place go so bad, it wasn’t fit for company. She said if he wasn’t happy, he should clean the house himself.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Joseph.”

His father’s words hadn’t been issued in anger, yet the little boy took offense. “I wasn’t doing what you said, Pa! We was just outside the door, so we couldn’t not hear.”

“I understand your dilemma. How about If that ever happens again, you just walk farther away,” Ben soothed.

“Sure, Pa. After Mr. Tucker left for the field, Timmy’s mom came outside and talked to a guy fixin’ siding on the barn until Adam showed up.”

___

“With Hoss and Joe tucked in and quickly asleep after their busy days, Ben was finally able to ask his eldest what he’d seen at the Tuckers.

“Mr. Tucker was out working, so I never saw or spoke to him,” he began. “But I doubt that’s what you’re asking about. I did see Steve Winkelman walking towards his buckboard when Joe and I were leaving, so that might be who Mrs. Tucker was with.”

“Steve does carpentry work now that his son can handle the farm. Tom’s good with wood, but it makes sense to get help with repairs.” Ben grinned. “Do you agree with Little Joe about Mrs. Tucker not doing much around the house?”

“I can confirm that Marilou is … ah … well behind with her chores.”

“Who’s behind?” Ben asked with a warning tone.

Adam laughed under his breath. “I told Mrs. Tucker that would be your reaction to her suggestion I call her that. She said she was only a year or two older than me and being called Mrs. Tucker made her feel old.”

Ben’s cheek rose slightly. “She implied she’s barely twenty?”

Adam nodded. “She also said she’s lonely because there aren’t many people her age out here.”

The raised cheek solidified. “I know you’re too smart to have questioned that, but I also know that If Little Joe noticed things undone, then the situation was very obvious to you. I assume you also were not impressed with any refreshment she offered?”

Adam’s shiver and sour look made Ben add, “Perhaps it was simply a busy day. We’ll leave it at that since she was kind enough to offer the play arrangement.” His father chuckled softly. “I was thankful to have a quiet afternoon to fix the figures I’d messed up trying to work with Little Joe’s constant interruptions yesterday.___

Adam lay in bed after prayers, hunkered under a quilt Inger had given him when she’d joined their family, and thought about Marilou Tucker again. He’d seen women in the wagon caravan who were unhappy with their lot in life. But his direct experience was entirely different. Inger and Marie possessed different personalities and talents, yet both were happy and nearly serene in the way they approached life. He missed them both with a deep ache any time his memories turned towards them.

Taking it down to the studs of what happened today, the disturbing part was the way she flipped between being forward and nearly seductive one minute; a thoughtful listener the next; claiming a miserable life from childhood on, and becoming childishly petulant in between.

He’d spent a day with Pa and Mr. Tucker while showing the newcomer around the territory shortly after he’d arrived. It had been pleasant with the two men telling stories about their time at sea. They’d even warned him about his grandfather’s wicked sense of humor, with numerous examples.

Also casting doubt on Tom Tucker’s ogre-like personality, was that Timmy had been along that day and clearly adored his uncle-become-father. Seeing them was like watching Pa with Little Joe, and remembering his own need for proximity to his father when he was that age.

He drifted to sleep, secure that with leaving soon for Boston, he would never have to hear about the Tucker’s marital problems again.

The Mission (Part 2)

Adam’s hope to stay away from anything Tucker-related, ended two days later when he arrived home from seeding the pasture they’d prepared, to find the buggy hooked up and his father hurrying out to greet him.

“Marilou Tucker stopped this morning,” he explained as he drew near. “She volunteered to take Joe for the day. I had so much to plan for next month it seemed a godsend.” He grinned up at Adam atop his horse. This time, I had Hop Sing pack a lunch for all of them in thanks for her offer, but also so Joe wouldn’t starve.”

“Are you heading over to get him?” Adam asked, hoping he’d have an hour of study time before dinner.

“I was, but your return is fortuitous. If you’ll do that, I can finish the schedule.” Noting his son’s dusty shirt and dirty face, he cringed. “You won’t have time to freshen up, but just grab the picnic basket and Joe when you get there, thank the lady, and leave.”

___

He parked the buggy out front and walked straight to the back, hoping to find Joe, see the toy farm, and get moving as his father had suggested. But as he approached the final turn to his destination, Marilou Tucker caught up to him and insisted he wait a few minutes before disturbing the boys.

“We have to get home,” he offered with some force. “I still have barn chores before supper.”

”Just a minute or two, Adam,” she insisted in the irritated tone she’d used last time. “I’m not asking you to stay for tea and crumpets. I just need to pack up the lunch basket. We can talk while I do that.”

“That’s fine, but I’ll let Joe know I’m here. If I don’t give him a warning, I find extricating him from play can become a war of wills.”

“Extricating him,” she repeated and laughed softly. “You have a way with words, Adam. How does that work when you’re with a young lady? Do they like your fancy talk or think you’re making fun of them?”

Taken aback, he blushed to crimson. “I don’t use ‘fancy’ language. I read a lot, which allows me to have a broad vocabulary. It’s not a way to put on airs, but if you’d prefer a simpler word, then it’s hard for me to pry him loose from his play.”

“You must think I’m dumb because I don’t have good grammar or a broad vocabulary.”

“I only judge people for how they treat others,” he replied. Shifting his feet, he added, “Where’s the basket?”

“Go see your brother, then meet me inside.”

___

“That really is something!” Adam told the boys as he finally got his first look at the large farm set. Taking a closer look at a few pieces, he marveled at the workmanship, but finally advised, “We have to leave in a few minutes today. How about you give Timmy a hand putting this away.”

“We don’t need to do that,” Timmy told him. “Pa’ll do it when he gets back.”

A quick look around the yard proved that not much had changed since his last visit. There seemed “new” laundry hanging on the line, but it was as dry and hard as the previous items. A hoe was sunk in the ground at the edge of the garden, but only a square foot of weeds was chopped down.

“Cartwrights clean up what they mess up,” Adam said teasingly, while meaning every word. “Little Joe enjoyed playing with it, so it’s his responsibility to help stow it.” He leveled an all-business look on Joe that he’d learned from their father.

Knowing exactly what it meant, Joe said, “Sure, Adam.”

___

He knocked before entering the house and found Marilou at the table staring down at the remains of the lunch Hop Sing had sent along.  A quick sweep of the interior, showed that conditions seemed better in some ways, but only until looking a little harder. The stack of unwashed dishes on the sideboard was smaller and the table held only the mess from lunch. But the rest of the place retained its disorder, and there was no sign of any true cleaning having been performed. Adam had considered the state of this house many times since being here, deciding that some people were able to turn a blind eye to mess and dirt. The conditions made him want to grab a bucket with lye soap and start scrubbing, but instead he concentrated on his reason for coming inside.

What happened next shocked him into believing there was far more than a blind eye at play here.

The lunch plates still held biscuit crumbs stuck on with honey, chicken bones, and the gooey evidence of Hop Sing’s potato salad. The dishes and silverware seemed familiar, and he finally recognized them as the old sets Marie had put aside for picnics. He allowed a small grin, knowing that when Pa had asked Hop Sing to send “lunch” he’d had him send everything they’d need, not just food.

The grin turned to a gape, when instead of placing these items into a dishpan for a quick wash, she simply knocked the loose morsels into a slop pail, and stacked the dirty items into the basket.

She looked up in time to catch his wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to wash these, but you said you were in a hurry!”

His attempt to not judge fell short as he considered that they’d eaten a few hours ago, and since the boys didn’t need constant supervision, she’d had plenty of time to at least rinse things before packing them. For the moment, it was only his extemporaneous speaking skill that saved him.

“I was only marveling at how much food two small boys could consume.” He added a hearty chuckle, hoping it sounded believable. “I hope you’ve kept any leftovers to use for supper.” He assumed Hop Sing had sent enough food for an army, which was confirmed when a subtle glance towards the leaning towers of dirty dishes let him see a mound of chicken, biscuits, and cookies on plates atop the stacks.

With the basket filled, she mopped up the dirty table with the checkered cloth that must have covered the feast for travel, and tossed that inside with the rest of the mess, finally shoving it across to him. A deep frown and catch in her voice prefaced her next statement. “You must find my housekeeping disgusting.” Raising her hand, she waved aside his attempt to deny it. “Outside, you told me that you only judge those who treat people badly. Well, I was forced to do all the cleaning and cooking as a child, and that continued after marrying Tim and Tom too. I just can’t make myself do it anymore! Maybe it’s how I rebel against all that has happened to me.”

Adam was uncomfortable again. Her earlier confessions of what had been expected of her didn’t differ from most kids who were given responsibility early. “I’m sorry things were so hard for you,” he told her with some sympathy, “Maybe instead of thinking about the past when doing this now, think of it as this being your place that you keep straightened for your own peace of mind and for your family.”

He immediately noted her growing frown and tried to clarify. “I cared for our horses from little on. It was a chore that felt burdensome sometimes. But when I finally got my own horse, I didn’t mind anymore because it benefitted my horse as much as the others.”

This time, her mouth hung open before she spoke. “Why would I see this as my house? I’m forced to live here just as I was at my parents; then at the Tucker farm, and at the other places we’ve lived! What I want is my chance to feel young; to choose where I want to live; find something fun to do, and be free of working my fingers to the bone!” she said through narrowed lips. “But that won’t ever happen and I’m stuck in this hell called my life. If you want to judge someone for how they treat people, start with Tom Tucker. He married me to get a housekeeper and he doesn’t expect me to want anything other than cooking and cleaning.”

As last time, the words coming from her mouth did not match what he clearly saw surrounding him. Little Joe had heard Mr. Tucker’s criticism of his wife’s domestic abilities. But was he being harsh or truthful. Did he have a reasonable expectation of coming home to an orderly house and nourishing meal after a day laboring for his family. This place wasn’t so large that household chores would take great effort if kept up.

Personally, he would never be able to live this way, and it made him wonder if he would also demand a division of labor be observed within the household. It would surely chafe and disappoint him if an able person refused to pitch in, claiming they didn’t care enough to do so. Pa and Tom were the same age, and Adam was noticing that while his father didn’t seem old, his stamina now waned after a long day. It was probably the same way Tom felt each evening. So … was Tom Tucker an abusive husband or a hard-working, exhausted man who’d given up trying to be understanding?

On the other hand, Ben Cartwright wouldn’t abide anyone mistreating their wife. The truth was here, but muddled by Marilou’s interpretation of her life. Again, Adam felt he was being told marital secrets he had no business hearing.

“A traveling preacher comes around every few months. It’s been a while, so he’s probably due. You could talk to him about this,” he suggested to divert the conversation to a suitable counselor.

“I thought you were different, Adam,” she hissed. “I thought we were friends. I’m beginning to think you’re just like everyone else who can’t see that the trouble is not that I don’t clean well enough, but that no one listens to me, and I’ve been forced to do what I have never wanted from my life!” She moved towards him as her voice turned childlike. “Please don’t hate me, Adam. I don’t have any friends and Tom is horribly jealous of any person I do talk to. I wander around this place like a ghost and the only time I’ve felt alive since we moved in was when you came to get your brother and we talked.” She looked down, wringing her hands. “I need you to be my friend.”

Her short rant and plea for this strange “friendship” was making his clothing feel tight and itchy, although maybe it was more his skin feeling that way. It was time to go, but he made one more suggestion.  “Your husband admires my father. Why don’t I ask Pa to talk with him.”

She stepped back and stomped her foot. “Don’t you dare! Those two would only lie about me.”

His response was immediate and sharp. “My father doesn’t lie.” He didn’t care how upset she was, he would not let this statement go unchallenged. “But he’s been through a lot too and could bring insight. Since it upsets you, I’ll stay out of it.”

“I want you as a friend, and that’s all. I didn’t ask you to fix me, just listen to me,” she whimpered. “We are still friends?”

Taking a cue from Little Joe’s earlier response when he knew it was time to go, he responded, “Sure.”

___

Ben noticed Adam’s distance during supper, just like the last time he’d been at the Tucker home. The eldest joined in table conversations, but then his eyes would drift to his plate as though highly absorbed with the mashed potatoes he moved around, but never ate.

With the house silent after Hoss and Joe were tucked in for the night, Ben finally asked, “Is something bothering you, son?”

Adam shrugged before asking, “Is it possible for people to change greatly during spans of absence, and not see it? Might we ignore things that bother us rather than risk ending a friendship?”

“Anyone in particular you’re referencing?” Ben asked while suspecting the answer.

“How well did you know Mr. Tucker in Boston, Pa?”

“We faced life and death together on Abel’s ship. Our hammocks hung next to each other, we worked the same watch, and had things in common like growing up on farms, having parents who’d allowed us to join the merchant fleet when the sea called us, and having brothers who remained home and took over when our fathers passed.”

Ben smiled softly as he returned to the ship in his mind. “The two of us worked hard to be favored by your grandfather. And since we wanted more than swabbing decks and manning sails, we worked hard and were careful to keep shore leave foolery to a minimum. It was a good time of life when Tom and I grew to be decent men.” He watched his son’s face closely for tells of what was bothering him about this old friend.

“And you feel he’s that same man?” Adam asked.

“I do. If you have seen otherwise, then I should hear about it. However ….”

“I know, Pa. If I’ve only heard things, that doesn’t make them factual.” After a deep breath, he continued, “Did you ever witness him get jealous and be mean about it?”

A knowing smile made a brief appearance. “Tom and I were both smitten by a beautiful young woman who happened to be Captain Stoddard’s daughter. We each spent time with Elizabeth, but when your mother chose me to court her, Tom stepped back and wished us the best. We continued sailing together until your mother and I married and I started the store. He was my best friend through those years, and we’ve remained as close as we could.”

Adam loved hearing stories about his parents, and hoped Captain Stoddard would be easily convinced to share more of them.  “It’s hard to imagine my mother having suitors other than you.” Adam shook off the odd feelings from the most recent visit to the Tucker house, and turned the conversation to his having seen the farm set. “It is perfectly to scale,” he concluded after a description.

“Tom’s favorite pastime on ship was whittling, but then he carved ships.” Ben yawned. “Since both you and Joe have mentioned it, I’ll have stop and see it.”

“Have you been there since you helped them move in?” Adam asked.

“Once I’d helped get them planted there, I thought it best to give them time to take root.   I often see them in town, but they’ve never extended an invitation to stop by.” Ben chuckled softly and grimaced while shivering, like he’d eaten something sour. “After hearing Joe’s description of the house and seeing the condition of the basket she sent back to Hop Sing, I’m pretty sure there’s no invitation coming either.”

“Pay an unannounced call soon, Pa. Maybe you’ll get a better feel for what’s going on.”

He eyed his son, realizing he’d just been issued an advisory. While nodding his intention to follow through, he pulled out his pocket watch. Another unbidden yawn accompanied his surprise at the hour. “According to scripture, tomorrow will have its own problems to deal with, and it won’t care whether we’re ready or not.*  I’m thinking it’s best we meet it fresh and ready.”

___

Marilou Tucker’s odd behavior faded again as Adam worked all day, and spent evenings studying the college-level materials left for him by the botanist professor he’d found studying wildflowers in the fields of the Ponderosa. Their partnership had arisen in one of those inexplicably blessed and nearly anointed moments where man and boy had met, leaving the Harvard educator impressed by an eager pupil holding incredible potential. With Ben and Marie’s approval, along with the offer of room and board whenever he was near enough to provide in-person instruction, Professor Metz had laid out a course of study and provided text books to prepare Adam for his shot at entry to a Boston university.

Adam had studied all of it, yet there was no way to know if he’d mastered it enough to pass the qualifying exams. The responsibility to represent himself well in his endeavor kept Adam’s nose in his texts when he might have equally wanted to enjoy less studious pursuits during his last days home.

His busy schedule made him confident the “friendship” with Mrs. Tucker was over.

That hope wavered when he saw Timmy sitting on the corral fence with Hoss and Little Joe when he rode into the yard after a day branding spring calves.

He waved to the three boys while heading inside without stopping. As had become the norm lately, his father was at the table surrounded by stacks of paper and ledgers. He tried to keep his tone neutral. “Did Mrs. Tucker drop Timmy off for you to watch today?”

Ben’s pencil paused above the paper. “Tom and Marilou were in town this morning. And since Hoss was home to keep the boys busy, it seemed a good time to make a reciprocal offer.

“Is someone coming for Timmy?”

Ben smiled up at his son. “I said I’d bring him home, but Mrs. Tucker took me aside and asked whether I could send you. Seems she enjoys the conversations when you stop by.” He watched his son’s cheeks tint to a rosy glow atop his golden tan. “Is there something going on between you two?”

Adam’s saucer-sized eyes pulled back into their normal shape as he realized his father was teasing him. “She thinks we’re good friends,” he admitted, before adding a little jab of his own. “I told you she considers herself too young to enjoy you old people.”

“Old people ….” Ben laughed before becoming serious. “Has she told you that she has no friends?” Adam’s nod prompted his father to continue. “From your previous questions about Tom, I’m guessing she’s implied that he doesn’t allow her to make friendships. Yet just today, I saw her dismiss an overture made by Patsy Stillman. Patsy must be in her mid-twenties; she’s married; she lives a ways out of town like Marilou, and has a young son. She asked about Timmy, and tried to start a conversation about gardening. But Marilou walked away from her and came to ask me to send you with Timmy. She complains to you about having no friends, but only puts effort into one with a teenaged boy.” He shook his head and bit his lip. “Hard to figure.”

Ben’s pencil tapped on the table as he did when in serious thought. “I should take Timmy home and finish this later. But if you go, I’ll be free to do something with the three of you tomorrow, like fishing or maybe camp overnight at the lake.” He noted the brief frown on his son’s  face indicating he didn’t like the suggestion, while not wanting to be disrespectful. “Take Joe along. We’ll tell him you’re trying to beat your best roundtrip time, so you can’t stop except to drop Timmy off. Don’t even get off the wagon.”

___

Marilou heard the Cartwright buckboard rumbling in the distance, and stepped outside to await its arrival. Shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, she could make out three people on the seat: two small figures, and a driver. At this distance it might be anyone, including a ranch hand, making her wait until verifying it was the Cartwright she wanted before beginning to bounce on the balls of her feet in excitement.

She waved as the vehicle entered the yard, but waited for the dust to settle before walking over.

Timmy and Joe jumped from the buckboard, heading to the back yard. “Don’t go anywhere, Joe!” Adam hollered after him. “You know Pa is timing us.”

“I need to use the outhouse,” the youngster called back. “I’ll be right back.”

As he finally looked toward Mrs. Tucker, he realized she was wearing a fancy dress that bared her shoulders and a good deal of cleavage. There were ruffles on the bodice and a cinched waistline atop a voluminous skirt meant to twirl while dancing. It was an outfit for a special occasion, not for chores or making supper. Additionally, she’d used something to pink her cheeks and had left her hair flowing from two clips in a style worn by young girls.

The attire put him at battle alert. It was unlikely the Tuckers were headed for a fancy party on a weekday, leaving the probable explanation that she’d dressed to impress him after asking his father to provide a particular chauffeur.

“I’m glad you could bring Timmy home, Adam.” She tilted her head coyly. “I got dressed up just in case. Do you think I look pretty?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded. “But you shouldn’t have gone to such trouble. We’ll leave as soon as Joe gets back.”  His uneasiness over this strange situation made him start babbling.  “Lot’s going on at the Ponderosa these days, and I still need to put in some study time before bed or I won’t be ready for Boston.” He thought his rebuttal would bring a bad reaction, but her smile remained.

“I have a wonderful idea, Adam.” Her eyes were now wide and beaming as she gazed up at him. “I’m going to offer to watch little Joe more often.” Her smile grew impossibly large. “I’ll fetch him in the morning, but you can pick him up, giving us a reason to see each other.”

“That isn’t possible,” Adam replied, fumbling for a way to end this crazy plan before it went further. “Pa already has set plans for Little Joe’s care as things get busier, and my being home in time to come for him has been a fluke. I’m usually not back until suppertime … and … I’ll leave for Boston soon, so don’t count on me being transportation. Your offer should be made for the benefit of the boys alone.”

While he thought she’d immediately rescind the suggestion, she said, “You’d only need to get here a couple of times so we can plan the future.”

He wanted to ask what future she was referencing, but decided it would only dig deeper into a hole he could barely see out of now. “Talk to Mr. Tucker and Pa about this if you’re serious, but again, don’t include me in the planning.” Not giving her time to respond, he hollered for Joe to get back. The boy came running while still pulling up his suspenders, and crawled onto the buckboard with the ease of an extremely agile kid. He waved to Timmy as Adam turned the wagon and left at such a fast pace, he suspected the party dress was now covered in a layer of gray dust.

The trip home was accompanied by a running dialogue from the six-year-old about the fun he’d had with Timmy and Hoss, while Adam sunk into deep thought. There was no need to wonder any longer about whether there was something terribly wrong at the Tucker house. It was a certainty, and he knew he’d have to mention her offer to his father. First, in case she did go ahead with it, and secondly so he could rebuff her folly of expecting him to retrieve Joe for the planned rendezvous she had in mind.

Triangle  -The Other Side of the Story

Adam had told his father about Marilou Tucker’s “suggestion” last evening. He’d watched as one eyebrow had made a slow rise on the man’s forehead as he’d listened, pulling the same side of his lips upwards into a grimace. Pa had expressed gratitude for the warning, and quickly dismissed it as being a logistical³ nightmare even if she was sincere about it, along with the thought that the boys would soon see each other regularly when they began attending class with Abigail Jones as he and Tom had spoken about doing.

Ben had finally determined the unlikelihood of the offer being extended without Adam’s involvement, deciding to say nothing unless Tom spoke of it.

Adam began to wonder if Mr. Tucker had done just that when the next afternoon, he saw their neighbor riding away from the ranch as he returned home from checking the emerging grass he’d sown earlier in the “fertile field.”

___

“Did Mr. Tucker make his wife’s offer?” he asked when he found his father in the house surrounded by paperwork again. While there were always financial ledgers needing updating, bids to write up, and a slew of records to keep, Adam had never experienced the overseeing of it to this degree before. His private conclusion was that Pa was getting a head start on the plans and schedules to be prepared for the coming exodus of his son with Professor Metz. Adam’s role on the ranch would be missed, and until his father could hire additional hands, he’d be taking his son’s place with the crew.

“We spoke, but not about that,” Ben responded as he slid a chair from the table with his foot, and nodded towards it. “Have a seat, Adam.”

Noting the edge in his father’s tone raised the hair on his neck, he attempted a smile while asking, “Did I do something wrong, Pa? I get the feeling I’m in trouble.”

The edge softened, and the stern set of Ben’s face pulled into to a weak smile. “No, son. What Tom and I  discussed is we both think it best you stay away from his wife until you leave. I thought Tom had come about the offer, but he was unaware of it. He knows that the boys get along well, and will only ask Little Joe over if he is able to remain at the house during the visit and provide the transportation.”

Adam stood abruptly. He hadn’t planned to go back to the Tuckers for his own reasons, yet this order made him wonder if there was truth in Marilou’s claims about her husband’s jealousy. “I haven’t done anything wrong over there, Pa. Mrs. Tucker and I talked … and really just one time. There’s no reason to suspect anything else or to order me to stay away.”

“Sit down, Adam,” Ben commanded without raising his voice. “No one is ordering you to do anything. Tom believes it’s best, and I agree.”

His eyes were shooting daggers towards his father as he lost control on the reigns of his tongue. “Marilou said her husband gets jealous. She told me he forced her to marry him and criticizes her relentlessly. It has taken away her will to do most anything.”

The volume remained controlled, but the tone indicated Ben’s rising frustration. “You need to consider carefully what you say next,” he warned. “You’ve heard one side of this story and are drawing conclusions from a request made to protect you. The truth may be far different than you think.”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t know the truth, Pa. Maybe Mr. Tucker has changed.” Seeing his father’s cheeks begin to stretch taught like leather over a drum, he backed down and pulled his tongue to a stop.

“I will not discuss the problems between the Tuckers. I fully believe Tom is the same man I’ve always known. His concerns for you are valid and the solution is for you to honor my ask. Last evening you gave me the impression you didn’t wat to return there anyway, based on your own uneasiness over the direction this … friendship … was taking. You might be a teenager, but  you’ll need to make this decision with the mindset of an adult. Choose wisely.”

____

The conversation with his father laid heavy in Adam’s heart, because as he’d told Mrs. Tucker, Ben Cartwright didn’t lie. He also didn’t make unreasonable judgments about others, so something was laying heavy in his father’s heart too. He settled on believing that time would reveal the truth of what was going on at the home to the north of them, and he had no part in it.

My Son, My Son – Painful Lessons for two Cartwright Sons

“I know I’ve asked a lot of favors lately,” Ben admitted when he pulled Adam aside the night before a celebration marking the fourth anniversary of the larger general store and boarding house being completed in town. It would be a festive day with food and conversation for the adults, and playtime for kids. “Your brothers really want to go to tomorrow, and I just realized our count on the herd in the pasture abutting the hill seems unrealistically low. I need an accurate number to make an offer to a new cavalry post just south of this territory, and it can’t be put off.”

“You want me to do the count?” Adam asked, hoping this was the impending request.

“I’d rather you take your brothers to town. Once I have the correct figure, I’ll head home and write up the offer. If I get done early enough, I’ll join you. Hop Sing will send food for the lunch and bakery for the raffle. It might give you a chance to see some folks a last time before you leave.”

There was no need to mull over the request. He knew his father felt great guilt about having to miss another family event while taking care of business, and there was no reason to make it any harder. “Sure, Pa,” he said easily. “It’s lunch with an hour or two before and after?”

Ben nodded. “It won’t start until after morning chores, and the need to get home for evening ones will keep it short.” He added, “Thank you, Adam,” as his son headed for bed.

___

The day in town flew by with his brothers’ joy evident on their dirty, sweat-streaked faces and big smiles as they’d run past. And he had been able to talk to people he’d be leaving behind. One of his favorites was Abigail Jones. The young teacher had ended up here after her father died on the trip to California, and her mother had planted roots where he’d been buried. Abigail’s love of literature had provided fodder for several conversation between them, and she had been the only person outside his family who had cheered his choice to be educated.

The pleasant day had been marred by one odd thing. When he’d taken Hop Sing’s offering to the ladies organizing the lunch, he’d seen them whispering as he approached. This ended when he arrived, and their pink-cheeked expressions indicated they’d been gossiping. While not an unusual occurrence when the ladies got together, it had left him feeling he’d been the subject of the furtive conversation. He’d pushed it aside, assuming they were likely taking their last shots at his plans to “abandon” his family for school.

When the afternoon sun began pushing its way towards chore time, Adam noted parents beginning to gather their kids. Feeling comfortable that he could do the same, he eyeballed his brothers’ locations, intending to give them notice of impending departure. To his chagrin, just as he got a bead on both, he saw Rebecca Manning heading his way with a look on her face that was all too familiar. The expression usually meant he was about to hear a report about the misbehavior of one the Cartwright boys.

He was right.

“Do you know what your brother did?” she shouted from a few paces away.

“You’ll need to narrow that down, Becka,” he said, trying to take the edge off her anger. “I have two brothers. Unless they’re in on this together, I’m betting this is about Little Joe?”

The comment stopped her in her tracks. “Joe?” she asked. “He’s a baby. How much trouble can he get into?”

“His young age isn’t a deterrent in Little Joe attracting trouble,” he offered sincerely, along with a knowing grin. “On the other hand, while Hoss gets into trouble, he’s seldom the one who initiates it. I’m surprised it’s his actions that have you so upset.” Adam’s statement was true . Hoss seldom did anything bad on his own, unless he was responding in anger or embarrassment.

Becka’s tone softened. “My little sister Jojo came to me crying, upset about Hoss. Those two have been a little sweet on each other for a while now.”

“I’ve seen that too,” Adam admitted. “Hoss can’t talk about her without blushing. He’s always saying how Jojo knows so much; does everything just right, and that she’s the prettiest gal in town.”

Becka agreed. “He’s always real sweet with her. But today, he came over and called her Bucky!”

“Bucky? What did that mean?”

“He said he was gonna stop calling her Jojo and call her Bucky the Beaver because of her big front teeth.”

Adam’s, “Ouch!” came from the heart. “That must have stung hard.”

“It did. He was with those older boys, and said it front of everyone, causing them all to laugh at her. Hoss is lucky there’s just girls in our family or he’d be missing his front teeth about now. I nearly socked him in the mouth myself.”

“Were those other guys led by Dave Cass?” Adam asked.

“I think so, although Jojo was too upset to talk straight. My other sister took her home while I came to find you.”

“It’s hard to believe Hoss would do that. He knows how it feels to be teased about things he can’t control. His size makes him an easy target.” Adam thought back to his own childhood. “I had large front teeth as a kid and got teased too. Tell your sister that a doctor in our wagon train told me something amazing about our permanent teeth. They come in at the size they need to be when we grow up. It’s not that they’re too big, it’s that our face is small and it will fill out to make the proportion perfect later. That aside, Hoss believes Jojo is beautiful.” He winked at the young married woman. “Just like the rest of her sisters.”

Becka grinned as she blushed to a soft pink. “She might not be ready to hear about adult teeth and the size of her face just yet, but I will tell her you think she’s pretty. Every girl in town hopes you’ll think that of them, Adam. Too bad you’re more interested in going to school than settling down here.”¹

Abandoning his family had been the biggest criticism about him leaving. Depriving the town of a fine candidate for marriage was a close second. It wasn’t that he didn’t find the young women in town attractive. It was that finding a wife wasn’t something he wanted yet. He chose to leave the comment unaddressed, offering,  “Pa and I will figure out why Hoss did this and help him sort it through. There’s got to be something behind it. How about I bring him to your place tomorrow to explain and apologize.”

Becka heard her name being called by the young ranch hand she’d recently married, and waved to him. “I’ll tell Jojo you’ll both be by. Thanks, Adam.” She smiled as she nodded towards her husband. “You may have not wanted to marry me back when my folks decided we’d make a good match, but that was a good thing. Marrying Clancy has turned out real nice.  He’s a good man, and the perfect person to help Pa on the farm. Getting married a little young ain’t so bad. It’s nice having someone who holds me as special like he does.”

___

Adam had taken the small buckboard to town, and put Little Joe in the back to play with the wagon and horse set they’d won in a ticket raffle. Various people had offered items to raise money to purchase school books Miss Jones could use for classes she held in the dining room of the boarding house for any child who could attend. There’d been donations of baked goods, some new items from Cass’ store, and a working replica of a buckboard and team whittled by Tom Tucker. While Tom’s donation had been there, Adam hadn’t seen the Tucker family at the event, and that had been fine with him.

Pa had sent money for the raffle, with Little Joe asking that they put all their tickets into the jar for the wagon. Seeding the outcome had worked, and he’d won. The best part was that it was now keeping him busy so Adam could talk to Hoss.

Once they’d turned onto the road to the Ponderosa, Adam finally broached the subject. “Becka said you called Jojo a name that made her cry. Is that true?”

Hoss’ jaw slacked as he turned to his brother. “I just called her Bucky. It weren’t meant to hurt her none.”

His astonishment seemed honest, and as Adam predicted, his younger brother seemed unaware she’d been offended.”

“Calling attention to any flaw in someone’s appearance is unkind, Hoss,” Adam explained. “Telling Jojo she has buck teeth, especially in front of others, embarrassed her, making her feel homely. The only way to make this right is to figure out why you did it and then how you’ll apologize.”

“It was them kids I was with at the end. They told me gals like it when their favorite guy calls ‘em something kind’a teasin’ like. And since I like Jojo, I was to figure out something special for her. It was Dave who said Bucky would be good, ‘cuz of her front teeth bein’ big like a beaver’s. He said not to worry, that she’d blush a little and act sort’a mad, but that would be her way of saying she liked it.”

Adam’s suspicions were confirmed. These older “boys” with nothing better to do, decided to make Hoss the butt of their joke, and it hadn’t mattered that they would wound sweet, innocent Jojo in the process. What made less sense was that Hoss’ recent experiences with Dave Cass didn’t make him wary of anything he said.

“Why would you trust Dave?” Adam asked with more bile than he’d intended, making Hoss turn away and slump in his seat. “Remember how he told Little Joe that you and I were bad seeds who probably made our own mothers die, and then we made Marie die too. Joe didn’t know it was a lie. He became so afraid of us, we had to find Pa and bring him home to solve the problem. Dave thinks it’s fun to hurt people, and by trusting him, you allowed him to do it through you.”

“I see that now,” Hoss said as he raised his head and looked directly at his brother. “But it made some sense.”

“How?” Adam demanded gently.

“He claimed his ma was a little heavy in her backside, so Mr. Cass called her Fat Fanny when he wanted to say something sweet to her.” The boy grew silent for a minute before adding, “He even said he heard Pa call Mama Marie, his Creole Madam once when they was at the store, and she giggled. That’s why he knew Jojo would like a special name too.”

Adam let the team come to a stop as he stared at Hoss. “Dave Cass lied to you in the worst possible way. His parents were devoted to each other. I never heard Mr. Cass say anything unkind to Mrs. Cass. They argued and got testy with each other as all couples do, but how Will could say such an evil thing about his own dead mother astounds me. And Pa … would … never have said that to Marie! He told me that Marie had faced abuse from people who should have treasured her, and he never wanted to hear anything unkind come out of our mouths.”

“But why was what Dave said so bad? I don’t understand.”

Adam could explain some of this easily, but wouldn’t get into the meaning of “madam” in this instance. “First off, no woman would be happy being called fat! And for our family, what Dave said implies there was something wrong about Marie being Creole. This only means her parents were born in France and kept some of their former customs and developed some new ones when they settled in New Orleans. But sometimes, people use that term to imply that those of Creole heritage aren’t sophisticated or smart, or that their ways are strange. You know Marie was a well-educated, refined lady. Dave meant to hurt you and Jojo, but he meant for Pa to be hurt when you said that in front of him. Pa would have torn out his tongue before saying that to Marie.”

Hoss’ confusion twisted his features to the point he looked ready to cry. “Why’d Dave say them things?”

“Dave Cass is an unhappy guy who delights in confusing those too young to discern his intention. He’s learned which words cut through flesh to the bone, and hates anyone with something good in their lives. With Pa. he probably dislikes that he’s so well respected. For me, it’s going away to school, and with you, he’s jealous that Jojo thinks you’re special. He got pleasure out of getting you in trouble with everyone.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any way you won’t tell Pa about this?”

The older brother slapped the reins gently to get the horses moving, while laughing heartily. “He will find out. Who do you suspect he’ll expect to hear it from first?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I’ll tell Pa privately about the names Dave told you, but you’ll do the rest. He’ll understand while still expecting you’ll make amends, and may even add a few extra chores to remind you not to listen to others when it doesn’t sound right.” He smiled. “I’m assuming it didn’t sound right to you?”

The boy’s head dropped again. “No. But sometimes it’s hard standing up to a group tellin’ you it is.”

“Judge things by what you know, Hoss, not what feels like a lie turned round and round to make it sound true. You have a good heart; trust it!

The Quality of Mercy

Ben listened to his middle son’s embarrassed explanation, leaving the man needing to control his anger at some points, and his smile at others. What was clear was that this sweet young man’s heart was too true to believe someone would stoop to such levels for sick fun.

The situation in the Cass family was something he had mentioned to Will already, most recently when he’d told Little Joe that the “evil cloud” over his brothers had killed Marie.²  Will had been apologetic, but later reported that Dave claimed it had been a “misunderstanding” on the little boy’s part.

Ben hadn’t pushed further even though Little Joe had been very clear about what had been said. A six-year-old couldn’t have come up with such an ugly conclusion about his family without a solid push in that direction.

But he was also complicit in the situation with Joe. The nonsense would have ended as soon as it started if he’d have been home to deal with it. His grief at Marie’s senseless death had sent him riding the hills to find something to explain it, while leaving Joe in the care of those Dave had accused of the treachery. There’d been no way for Hoss and Adam to deny the accusations once the child had jumped into the conspiracy with both feet. Being absent during the fiasco, he’d accepted that he’d shared the blame.

But Will’s failure to see the truth then, left the boy free to do it again. Should Hoss have doubted anything Dave Cass told him to do? Of course. But while the trusting kid might have doubted Dave’s words, it seemed he accepted that the others he considered friends wouldn’t set him up to do something bad.

While those boys were probably told it was innocent fun, it was Hoss who was learning that hurtful words couldn’t be unsaid, and how difficult it was to renew trust once lost.

As the tall 12-year-old stood twisting his hat in an unending circle, waiting for judgment, Ben finally said, “Since Adam offered to follow through with this, he should take you to the Mannings tomorrow as promised. However, between now and then, you will write out your apology, and I will approve it. And have no doubt that I will contact Jojo’s parent to make sure you have completed your mission.”

“Can’t I just say I’m sorry?” Hoss asked hopefully.

“Of course you will say that, but you’ll also need to explain why you did it, without blaming the kids who egged you on. They did an ugly thing, but it was your decision to act on it even though you had misgivings. That makes you solely responsible for the outcome.”

“Yes, Pa,” Hoss replied in a near whisper. “But do I gotta write it?”

“You will make things worse if you think the right words will miraculously exit your mouth without thinking this through. Go do your chores, and then head to your room to compose the apology. I’d suggest that once it’s finished, you take it along and read it. And since you’ll be more motivated if you’re hungry, you will finish writing it and get my approval before you have supper.”

The boy fidgeted. “But, Pa, I don’t have good words like you and Adam. I’ll starve before coming up with anything.”

“You told me very clearly what happened. Put that on paper.”

Hoss turned towards the stairs, making his father clear his throat. “Lest you have forgotten, chores come first.”

The fair complected boy blushed as he redirected his path, yet he knew better than to complain. As he neared the door, he was stopped again by his father’s voice.

“There’s more, Hoss. Since you had trouble discerning how words could hurt others, I’ll give you a list of Bible verses dealing with this subject to look up and write out. I’ll make sure you have time for that tomorrow, and we’ll use them for our Sunday reflection.”

“That sounds all right, Pa.” Hoss laughed in relief. “I thought sure my punishment would be a lot worse than writing out a few Bible verses.”

Ben smiled as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Spending time in scripture is never a punishment, son. Your punishment will be to paint the outhouse … in addition to your other chores, lessons, and ranch work. You don’t have to finish it in one day, but to make sure it does get done, all other fun activities are curtailed until we have a nicely painted facility.”

Ben turned away to wink at Adam. “I believe Hop Sing has chicken and dumplings for supper. That’s your favorite, but it’s our favorite too, so I’d suggest you get moving or there may be none left when you’re ready to eat. I’d hate for you to be left with a cheese sandwich.”

Ben and Adam held their laughter until Hoss was out the door.

With Joe outside enjoying his new toy, and Hoss doing his chores, Ben directed Adam to a bench near the hearth, and sat facing him.

“I suspect Hoss told you those nicknames Dave claimed he’d heard, and I’m grateful you took the burden for revealing them. I need the truth of how deep this went since I may try again to address Dave’s behavior with Will.”

Adam nodded.

His estimation of the impact was evident when he saw his father cringe and pale after hearing the statements. “How did Dave know those things about Marie?” he asked as he finished. “She told me about working in New Orleans, but I never thought of it as anything but hostessing at a fancy club.”

Ben shifted until he was facing the hearth instead of his son. “Marie spoke openly about her life because there was nothing to hide. People were curious about her here, so she told them about being French, attending convent school, having to work when her husband left for the West, and how we met. She described the place she worked just as you did, but these pioneering folks have never been in a city like New Orleans with its culture and old-world qualities, so they can’t understand the difference between high-society clubs like the one Marie ran there, and a saloon or brothel in a rapid growing gold town like San Francisco.”

“Wasn’t it a private, pricey club that catered to rich men? She said they paid dues to have somewhere they could talk business and politics, and belch without their wife’s permission.”

Ben laughed at his wife’s description. “They hired beautiful, intelligent women who provided elegance and order, and to keep things running smoothly.”

Adam nodded. “She said wealthy men were so inept at taking care of themselves, they expected her to handle everything. Raised as she’d been, she was equipped to do that.”

“I forget how much the two of you talked. She trusted you, Adam, and loved getting your thoughts.”

Adam hesitated in returning to the conversation. “I assume Dave overheard gossip about Marie.”

“Dave probably overhears a lot lurking around the store. I can’t bear to tell Will what was said about Mary, but maybe this time he’ll take action.” He shook his head sadly. “His own mother!”

A sigh preceded Ben’s rising from the bench, an indication their talk was over. “I’ll enjoy reading what Hoss comes up with. Thank you for taking control of the situation today. And tomorrow, while I know you’ll want to help him, let him handle it on his own.”

___

With his written apology approved by his father sooner that he thought possible, Hoss had quickly consumed the double helping Hop Sing had set aside for him, and still had time to start looking up his Bible verses.

The next morning, both older boys arose early to complete their chores before having a big breakfast and heading out. Since the Mannings lived on the opposite side of town, Adam decided to stop at the blacksmith on the way through to order new harness straps.

While he’d assumed Hoss’ blunder had happened late enough to avoid a stir, he began to wonder if Becka had reneged on her promise to keep the incident quiet after noticing two women point at them as they drove by, before quickly covering their mouths to “discreetly” discuss the latest gossip concerning the Cartwrights.

His main worry was that Hoss would become more nervous about his apology if he thought others knew what he’d said, so he drove the wagon to the rear of the blacksmith shop to cut behind the buildings until he could rejoin the road outside town to the Manning homestead when they left.

­­___

Becka exited her small cabin next to her family’s residence and watched the Cartwright wagon enter the long drive, exchanging a wave with the boys to acknowledge their arrival.

The young woman approached as soon as the wagon stopped. “I’m glad you two kept your promise,” she told Adam as he set the brake “Jojo and I talked last night and she agreed it isn’t like Hoss to be hurtful, so she’s ready to listen.”

Adam gave his brother a gentle nudge to get him moving. “Go ask Jojo to take a walk and tell her what you’ve thought about. You’ve got your written apology in your pocket?”

The boy patted his shirt and nodded, his distress showing in his pale cheeks, and the sheen of dewy sweat on his forehead and upper lip despite the cool morning. “Wish me luck, Adam.”

“You don’t need luck, Hoss. You’ve worked hard to understand what happened. Now tell her.”

With his brother on his way, he wound the reins around the brake and jumped down to address the older sister who was still grinning at him “Speaking of keeping promises, we got some odd looks and saw whispering when we went through town, making me think you might have spoken about Hoss’ misstep without waiting for the facts.” Crossing his arms, he leaned into himself with a near smirk of satisfaction at taking the moral high ground in this conversation. “I was worried Hoss might jump off the wagon and run for home.”

Becka was unshaken by the admonishment, and her grin grew bigger. “I didn’t say anything to anyone, Adam. It would have hurt my sister more than punish Hoss.” She stepped closer. “Besides, the gossip in town isn’t about your brother. It’s about you!”

“Me?” Adam choked out, taking a staggering step back to lean against the wagon as he felt himself rolling back down the hill of perceived advantage. “All I did yesterday was eat lunch and watch my brothers. How could that create gossip.”

“It started before you ever arrived,” Becka explained. “I’d have mentioned it, but Ma didn’t tell us until we got home. She’s very concerned for you.”

“What was being said!” It wasn’t a question. He was exhibiting his own sweaty response, as his shirt began sticking to his wet skin, and his curly hair glued to his damp forehead and cheeks.

Becka’s fun at Adam’s expense ended when she saw his tortured expression. “Let’s talk with my folks, Adam. They heard it directly, not second hand.”

___

Mrs. Manning cleared the house of her many daughters and sent Becka to bring her father inside.

“There’s gossip about you and Marilou Tucker, Adam,” she began when the house was quiet. “Seems you might be planning to take her along to Boston to help her escape her horrible life with Tom and her son.”

Adam’s jaw hung loose and froze for a moment. “Which ugly gossiper is spreading that story?” Regaining full use of his face again, he added, “Mrs. Tucker and I barely know each other. Where would anyone get that idea?”

Hannah Manning smiled at Adam as she led him to a kitchen chair and turned to her husband as he walked into the house. “Grab the boy a glass of something to get his heart pumping before he passes out.”

After a sip of the man’s homemade dandelion wine burned a streak down Adam’s throat and brought some pink back to his cheeks, Hannah finally revealed, “The person who said it was Marilou Tucker herself.”

“What?” he spoke with little strength. “She wasn’t even at the party.”

“The Tuckers came early with Tom’s raffle item,” Hannah began. “Marilou wandered over to talk to the women setting up the food tables, and Nancy Limerick said the woman claimed she’s become very good friends with you, and now that you know how bad things are for her, you’d help her get away if she’d ask you. Of course, Nancy immediately found Tom and told him about this. He went over to the ladies, took his wife’s arm, apologizing for her imaginative story-telling, and then led her to the wagon. They left and didn’t return. But other women had already told their husbands and the story was spreading. Mr. Manning and I managed to calm the rumors before you arrived, telling them this surely wasn’t true and to keep their tongues quiet before she needlessly destroyed another young man’s reputation.”

Adam suddenly understood why his father had warned him to stay away from the Tuckers. The woman’s odd offer of babysitting Joe so he could come more often to make “plans,” bounced in his head like a wagon wheel hitting a bottomless hole. But something Mrs. Manning just said puzzled him even more. “What do you mean by her destroying another young man’s reputation?”

Hannah’s head wagged left-to-right. “I’m sure she told you all about how awful Tom Tucker is to her. Bad folks can hide who they are, but Tom has always been good to her and Timmy. She, on the other hand, has caused trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Fritz Manning cleared his throat. “She favored a young man shortly after they arrived, spreading similar rumors about him taking her away from the hell she was in.  The truth came out, with her finally admitting it had been made up. But the damage had been done.”

“Who was this?” Adam’s heart was beating so fast he was having trouble breathing.

“You know the Fredericks who had the farm a little west of here?”

Adam nodded. “They moved away a month ago?”

Fritz explained, “They liked it here, but couldn’t stay on after the Tucker woman lied about their son.”

“What kind of lies?” Adam asked, with a rising urgency.

Hannah picked up the story. “Sadie Fredericks sent their oldest son to the Tuckers with some welcome pies when they moved in. Marilou was the only one home, and Sadie said the boy was gone for some time. Afterwards, he seemed overly quiet, but denied anything was wrong. She forgot about it until that crazy Marilou started sending notes to Stanley. She’d sneak over to the saloon when they’d come in for supplies, and pay some drunken cowboy to take it to the Fredricks’ place. She claimed Tom was so busy, she needed someone to help with heavy chores she needed done. At first, Stanley’s mama saw it as being neighborly.”

“But Sadie saw that her son looked more upset each time a note arrived,” Fritz confided. “She had the boy’s pa sit him down and demand answers to what kind of help she wanted. Turned out Mrs. Tucker was feeding the boy stories of how mean Tom was to her, and how she needed a friend—someone her age—who would make her feel young. He even admitted that she had quickly started talking about how he was old enough to go live in a big city, and send for her when he was settled.”

Hannah laughed sharply. “Sadie went to have words with Marilou about feeding her son lies. And when she saw the state of things out there, she told her she should spend her time taking care of her own house, and leave her son alone. Marilou got revenge by spreading rumors about the love-starved boy making excuses to come over, and then nearly molesting her. The Fredericks felt it best to leave after that.”

She continued after a deep breath. “Tom apologized to the Fredericks and even spoke to those who’d heard the lies, telling them that his wife had problems being so isolated out in the country.  From then on, he kept her at his side when they’d come to town so she couldn’t cause trouble. Funny thing was she acted like it was her who’d been harmed and held her chin up so high, it cast shadows on others.”

“I’m surprised Pa never heard about this,” Adam said before releasing his tension in a loud sigh.

“Ben was in the throes of Marie’s death, and with Tom being his friend, we all agreed to keep quiet. We also liked Tom and wanted to stop the gossip for his and the boy’s sake.”

One question was now pounding in his brain after hearing about Joey Frederick, “What exactly did she say about me?”

Hannah laid her hand on his arm. “Don’t look so worried. It was just that you’d come to pick up your little brother and the two of you struck up a friendship. You could see how bad Tom treated her and she was making plans for how you could help her escape.”

Adam was pretty sure his swallow was loud enough to be heard for miles. “Only one part of that is true. I picked up Little Joe and talked for a while. When she started complaining about her husband, I even suggested she talk to another woman or the traveling preacher about it, not me.” He stopped abruptly as he reconsidered how much to reveal. “I best talk to Pa and Mr. Tucker before saying more. Thanks for telling me the truth, and for defending me.”

___

Hoss’ relief over his apology showed in his chattiness on the ride home.

“Are you and Jojo friends again? No hard feelings?” Adam asked.

“She believed I was sorry. I told her people say things about me too that sound like teasin’, but ain’t, so I should’a known better.”

“You were both smiling when you said goodbye. I’m happy it worked out and you learned some good lessons.”

“What was goin’ on with you in the house?” Hoss inquired as he narrowed his eyes. “You looked sort’a scared when you went inside. Were her folks mad about what I done and pickin’ on you fer it?”

“It wasn’t about you. In fact, they were impressed with how you handled things. What you saw was me learning a serious lesson about judging what’s true as well. I can’t tell you more until I talk to Pa.”

Hoss was a curious kid, but he let things go easily. “That’s fine. Hey! Jojo asked me for Sunday dinner. I hope Pa let’s me go.”

“Put your best effort into that painting job. That’ll go a long way to ensure your attendance, even if you don’t get it all the way done.”

The boys grew silent for the remainder of the drive: Hoss savoring his success, and Adam wondering if Pa had already heard what was being said about him. The answer came fast when he saw Tom Tucker’s horse tied in front of the house. Asking Hoss to take care of the wagon and team, he headed inside to face whatever awaited him, just as his younger brother had done.

“How’d it go for Hoss?” Ben asked as soon as Adam stepped inside the house.

“Good! Smiles abounded and he even got a Sunday dinner invitation.” Adam’s eyes drifted to Tom, who was seated next to his father at the table, holding onto a mug of coffee like a log in a raging river he’d fallen into. “But the Mannings also said they’d heard gossip about me yesterday. I suppose that’s why Mr. Tucker is here.”

“It is,” his father confirmed.

“I’m not sure what was said, but the gist of what Mrs. Manning told me wasn’t true,” he began apologetically. “I have no idea ….”

“I know that, Adam,” Tom interrupted, while managing a sad smile to ease the boy’s nerves. “I’m here to apologize to you and explain a few things before we move.”

“Move?” Adam asked as his eyes widened. “Are you moving because of me?”

“It has nothing to do with you, son. Your father already knew I was considering this back when I found Marilou all dressed up because she expected you would bring Timmy home. My concerns grew when your Pa told me about her suggestion to take Little Joe more often, and he suspected it was meant as a way to see you, not help him.”

Tom released a long breath. “It’s why I asked Ben to impress on you the need to stay away from her. I’m glad you respected your father in doing that … even if it made you wonder if what she’d told you about me was true.” Seeing Adam blush, he chuckled sadly. “I’m aware she says I’m a miserable old coot who forced her to marry me; that I keep her from having the life she wants, and am extremely jealous and controlling.”

“Pa warned that I should be careful when I asked whether you’d changed. The Mannings confirmed that no one has ever seen the traits she offers as true about you, and they mentioned that the Fredericks moved away because of lies Mrs. Tucker spread.”

“The Fredericks boy is ….” Tom scrubbed at his face before saying, “There was no reason for them to leave. I should have exposed Marilou’s troubles more publicly back then to save the boy.” He sighed heavily. “She knew I’d do that, but it didn’t bother her. With the Fredericks gone, I offered her one last bargain: I wouldn’t complain about the state of the house and garden, if she’d just do better by Timmy and stop making up stories. She accepted the part of doing as little as possible around the place, and stayed at my side in town. But then she met you and I could see it starting up again. After what she said to those women yesterday, I realize there is something wrong with Marilou that I can’t cure with patience, forgiveness, bargains, or hope.”

Tom rose slowly, looking like Atlas trying to lift the unbearable weight of the heavens onto his shoulders.  “I have so much to finish before we can leave, so I’ll let your father tell you more.”

“Have you sold the farm already? Adam asked.

Tom glanced towards Ben. “Your father has offered me a good price for it.”

“So, we’ll be farming now, Pa?” Adam asked with a grin.

“Hop Sing wants to grow more food crops and raise the small animals away from the house. I’d  already considered making an offer when the last family left. This will work well if I find someone to run it  and provide Hop Sing’s needs in exchange for living there and getting a small salary.”

Tom stopped at the door and shook Ben’s hand. “It was good seeing you again. Abel always said you’d found the perfect place to raise your sons, and I came hoping to find that for Timmy. Pray for us Ben. Trying to control Marilou hasn’t worked. Maybe setting her free will.”

Tom shook Adam’s hand as well, wishing him the best in his travels and education.  “We’ll take a ship around the Horn to get home. Maybe we’ll see you at Abel’s if we get to Boston while you’re there.

“I’ll look forward to that,” the young man replied.

___

Ben accompanied Tom outside and gave his old friend’s horse a swat to send him on his way. Before returning to the house, he found Hoss to congratulate him on a job well done at the Mannings, and then asked that he keep Little Joe busy until he came for them.

“Is Adam in trouble?” Hoss asked. “He seemed pretty skittish on the ride home, and it got worse when he saw Mr. Tucker was here.”

“No trouble, but we need talk now without interruption.”

___

Pouring another cup of coffee, Ben joined Adam at the table.

The eldest began the conversation in an accusatory tone. “If you knew what was going on at the Tucker’s, Pa, why didn’t you tell me instead of ordering me to stay away?”

“I didn’t know the whole story until today. Tom originally only confided that there was good reason for you to stay clear, based on things he would explain only if it became necessary. And I didn’t order you to do anything. I trusted you’d accept that I would only ask you for something I believed was the right thing. As you’ve now learned, it was.”

“I did, Pa. I’m sorry.”

“To your credit, your decision was correct.”

Adam released a quick breath, aimed upwards in hopes of moving the lock of hair that had slipped onto his forehead. “How could she make up that story about me.”

“I’d ask instead that you imagine how defeating it was for Tom to hear.”

Ben placed his hand on Adam’s arm. “Tom and I admire that you cared enough to make diplomatic attempts to get my perspective without accusing Tom of anything. I realize that I should have asked more questions when you broached the subject, and then gone to Tom immediately.”

“I’ve thought a lot about this, Pa. While Mr. Tucker could have changed, her stories revealed more about her inability to cope with what she was expected to do, than anything being done to her. The conditions at their house didn’t speak to a man who ruled with an iron fist.”

Adam stopped to recall something. “Remember back when I accused Becka Manning’s parents of seeing her as a crop ready for sale back when they decided she should marry to bring a male into the family to help her father? As the oldest, she too carried responsibilities, and I don’t think the Mannings would have forced her to marry had she objected. But she told me yesterday that she accepted it when she realized Clancy was happy and grateful to become her husband. She saw it as a gift to her parents, and from this gift, she has found a very happy life.”

“Fritz also told me things are going very well for them.”

“On the other hand, Marilou saw her role in helping her family as a lifelong sentence of hard labor that kept her from anything even close to joy.”

“Tom feels Marilou has told this story of woe so often she truly believes there is nothing good about her circumstances,” Ben admitted.

“The most awful part in this is how she feels about Timmy.”

Ben nodded. “As difficult as that is, Tom understood enough to be patient. When his brother married, Tim wrote to ask if he could sell the farm to give his new wife a fresh start. Unfortunately, when he tried, property values had plummeted, leaving Tim no choice but to scrape a living from the homestead for a while. Marilou didn’t try to understand that it wasn’t meant to hurt her, and saw it as a lie. Being lonely while Tim worked so hard, her recourse was to get sympathy offered by strangers after hearing her tale. What has always kept Tom trying with Marilou was that as much as she talked about running off, she never did, and probably wouldn’t. He suspects she’s more confused than bad. But no efforts to help her have worked.”

Adam nodded. “May I ask how old she is?”

“The same age as Tom’s brother, so mid-thirties.”

“Was her childhood worse than most?”

“Tom believes it was difficult, but not as horrible as she implies. Her family and the Tuckers are from the area of Pennsylvania known for strict religious groups. Her grandparents belonged to one of the sternest. The sects conducted commerce with “outsiders” like the Tuckers, but didn’t socialize with them. But Marilou’s mother fell in love with an ‘outsider’ she’d come to know with whom her parents did business.

“It wasn’t an easy life for Marilou’s parents. They had this man’s small farm, but the profits never covered the needs of their big family. Added to their troubles was that neither set of their parents acknowledged the marriage or their grandchildren. The sect shunned them because her mother married outside the brotherhood, while the husband’s family claimed their son had been trapped by a conniving woman wanting out of the sect.”

“Would this be any different than the isolation pioneers experience when they leave their families behind?” Adam asked.

“Shunning is a different, son. The people are still there, but pretend you don’t exist. Tom also recalls that Marilou’s mother held to the regimented life of her religious upbringing even after she was ostracized, holding to their principles and regimented living.” Ben took a moment to think. “Tom confirmed that the family was large, and the parents were strict, but didn’t seem unkind back when the Tucker family did business with them. He did observe Marilou tending her siblings when they stopped by.” Ben smiled at his son. “I know …. So did you and every other ‘oldest’ kid you’ve known. It’s a simple fact of life.”

“Maybe being surrounded by people who could have helped and chose not to, made everything seem worse.”

Ben nodded rhythmically. “I agree.”

“I’m guessing Marilou’s parents did not like Marilou’s marriage to Tim Tucker?”

“Perhaps they found nothing bad about him, but Marilou’s mother was against the marriage because she had hoped to regain her sect’s good graces by suggesting a marriage between Marilou and a member, most likely an older widower. Whether that was possible remains unknown, although Tom is unaware of her being able to accomplish this arrangement with any of her other daughters either. But with Marilou’s elopement, the tender shoot of hope was trampled, and she then shunned her daughter and Tim for that.”

Adam thought a moment. “How did Tim die?”

“An accident while out plowing. Timmy was born just days before.”

“Leaving Mrs. Tucker with even more responsibility. Did she try running the farm?”

Ben shook his head. “Tom’s parents left the farm to both sons, stipulating that if one died, the farm went fully to the other. When Tim died, Tom owned it, not Marilou. It seems a spiteful thing, but it is done to keep property within a family. Tim was expected to set money aside for his family, but with things bad financially, Marilou was left in dire straits. Tom wired money to cover expenses for her and the baby until he could return home. He arrived in Lancaster to find his sister-in-law in custody, with every cent he’d provided, gone. She wasn’t in trouble for debts, though. She’d been arrested after folks had noticed her in town several times for many hours, without the baby.”

“Had she given him to someone?”

Ben’s head wagged again. “When talk of the missing baby reached them, her parents went to the farm and found Timmy wet, filthy, and screaming. They cleaned him up and took him into the authorities. They knew Tom was on his way and told the constable that their daughter had abandoned the child, so they should have the children’s welfare group  in Lancaster find a home for Timmy until Tom arrived. Then they left. Marilou was found talking the ear off a drunk in a lady’s lounge off a Lancaster bar. She admitted to leaving Timmy alone for short times after he was fed and sleeping. Her claim was on that day, she’d simply lost track of time, while normally being gone only an hour. A few inquiries proved she’d always stayed around the taverns for hours, using Tom’s money to buy drinks so patrons would listen to her.”

“Why wouldn’t Marilou’s family take the baby?  They must have understood there was something deeply wrong.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders and eyebrows, making Adam lower his head and ask, “How can people who claim to live by the Word, not understand a single thing about how to love and treat others in need. And in this case, their own flesh and blood. They knew how bad if was to be shunned, and then did that to their daughter.”

“Good question, son.”

“Hoss is just twelve, but after learning that he hurt someone he cared for, he accepted his responsibility and made amends. I’m looking forward to our family service when we go over those passages he’s been copying.”

“The difference in these two instances is that Hoss took the lesson into his heart rather than memorizing words.”

“How did Tom handle that mess?” Adam asked.

“Marilou and Timmy were released to his care. He said she was repentant to the extent of blaming her situation. She had too much responsibility and no way to fix anything.”

“She said Tom forced her to marry him. Was that his fix?”

“In a way. When she did little to become a better mother, Tom gave her two choices: He would adopt the boy with her parental ties ended, or she could marry him so she and Timmy would be safe while she learned to care for him. She agreed to the marriage and promised to do better.” Ben’s cheeked turned rosy as he added, “The marital arrangement was solely for the welfare of his nephew. Tom never demanded that they live as man and wife, only as parents to Tim.”

Adam’s cheeks flushed too as he understood the implication of his father’s words. “I guess I hadn’t thought about that, but I believe it. She’d have mentioned being forced in that way too, since she seemed to have no propriety over what she shared.” He released a long breath. “So, why didn’t they stay on that farm?”

“Everyone there knew what had happened, so Tom decided a fresh start was needed. He rented out the farm and they moved. After three attempts in different places where Marilou fell back into similar behavior with abandoning him and Tim to hang out in bars, causing the family to be ostracized, Tom recalled Abel telling him about me being out here, and thought it was the solution. Being near an old friend who’d made a good life despite the losses we’ve endured, seemed a perfect example to follow.”

“Why would she do the same thing when it brought nothing but trouble?”

Ben took a whistling breath. “Again, she likely doesn’t know what she wants, and found some kind of release and relief in her actions. You must recall a few people from the wagon train and around here who blame everyone but themselves for their unhappy condition. That was Marilou’s fallback too.

“What Tom hadn’t figured on was the change she made here. When Stanley Fredricks showed up at the farm, she realized that a youngster would be easier for her to convince of her hardship. I’m sure Stanley listened and expressed sympathy, even while being as confused as you were. This time his mother intervened and it was even worse than the wives because she was protecting her child. So Marilou fought back by suggesting the boy had been romantically interested in her and would have abandoned his parents for her.  She set out to punish the mother by ruining her son. Tom was dumbstruck when he found out that his wife had caused such hardship to another family.”

“Won’t this move end the same?”

“They’re leaving, not moving. Tom is taking Tim back to Pennsylvania to raise him on the farm.”

Adam’s left cheek rose. “And where is Mrs. Tucker going?”

“Wherever she wants. Their first destination is San Francisco to hire a lawyer. Tom will petition for an annulment, citing the marriage as entirely a custody arrangement. In return for giving her the money from this place and her freedom, she must give him legal guardianship of Tim. Tom hopes that deciding her own destiny will finally fill that empty hole she has inside. His greater hope is that with time, she’ll seek Tim out and be his mother.”

Adam’s lips took a sour turn. “It’s hard to imagine a woman walking away from her child, yet she confessed easily that motherhood was one more thing she felt forced to endure.”

“She’s sick in some soul-deep way. Tom can’t fix her, but he can give his nephew a stable life while Marilou does what it is she thinks she wants.”

“How did she take this news?”

“Tom said they’ve had more peace in the last 24-hours than in nearly six years. He doesn’t understand it, but he welcomes it.” Ben saw Adam close his eyes and slide down his chair until his head was resting against the back. “What’s wrong, son?”

“My mother, Inger, and Marie would have done anything to stay a little longer with us. How can she be happy about this?”

“The best outcome for you in this, is to learn another lesson about the human spirit.”

A small smile played at the corner of the boy’s mouth. “I’ve also learned to run away from anyone too eager to reveal their situation!”

A laugh shook Ben’s shoulders as his posture relaxed. “That’s true too. You and Hoss are both learning to discern what others tell you. The first step after listening is to scrutinize for the bias of their claims. I will always expect you to stick up for those in true peril. But you had a little trouble seeing that Marilou’s peril was in her own mind.” Ben grew quiet, his nose wrinkling and forehead scrunching while trying to put words to a thought in the back of his mind.

“We’ve talked about this skill many times, Adam, and you are very discerning. Yet you had trouble this time. Do you know why?”

Adam took a brief mental trip back to that first day with Marilou Tucker, spotting the likely answer to his father’s question. “I was put on guard by her actions at first, yet our first real conversation began with her questions about me … us …. How we got out here; how we made a living once we arrived; how long we’ve been here, and finally, she marveled at you allowing me to go on my own, just ten years after arriving here, even though you’d still benefit from my help.”

”Are you saying she charmed you?

“If you mean she feigned interest to disarm me; no.” Adam’s smile began to grow.

“So what was it?”

“What has been the normal response when people heard I was going back to where we came from … for an education?”

“Surprise?”

“Not surprise. Judgment!  Most think I’m stupid for wanting an education to live out here.  Others imply you’re a bad parent for letting me go, while most agree I’m greedy and evil to strip family resources for some fanciful belief that I’m smarter than others. And while they’ll dab some righteous cologne on their words to make them smell better, the odor of their judgment is pungent.”

Ben’s eyes hooded in concern. “I thought you’d gotten past that bothering you.”

“I have. But what … disarmed me … about Mrs. Tucker, was that I fully expected a similar response, and instead, she asked why school was so important to me and why I chose Boston. She listened, and was awed that you’d paid attention and gave your full support.”

A smile replaced Ben’s frowning concern. “You’re going to bring this around to something interesting, aren’t you?”

“There was a general theme to the complaints about her life.”

“What do you mean?”

“First: no one ever listened to her. Her ideas were disregarded. She was called selfish, crazy, and disloyal for wanting small opportunities outside her family. Others decided what was best for her without allowing her any say, and even Tim reneged on his promise, proving he’d lied to get a housekeeper for the farm.  Unlike Becka, whose family enlisted her help rather than demanding it, Marilou Tucker felt she’d been transferred from the prison of her family, to a similar prison term with Tim, and then Tom.”

“That makes sense,” Ben replied.

“Much of what she felt, was her interpretation of the situations she’d face. Others may not have reacted so adversely or even tried to understand that it wasn’t meant to harm her. And when Tim died, leaving her free for the first time ever, she had Timmy, no money, and no family who would help. Not sure what to do, she perceived her only option was accepting Tom Tucker’s fix.” Adam sighed. “She really doesn’t know what she wants, other than wanting out of the life she feels forced to accept.” Looking up, he addressed his father directly. “I believe Mr. Tucker is doing the perfect thing.”

“Huh?” Ben asked, struggling to follow his son’s logic.

“For the first time, Marilou will make her own decisions. She isn’t being asked to give Timmy up, and she will have that chance she’s felt was denied her. It may backfire, leaving her struggling even more without the safety net others have provided even while blamin them for doing it. But right now, she must feel like she’s sprouted wings.”

“That’s a stretch, son.”

“Is it? Those of us who have had our ideas supported, can’t understand the ache that drives her. You were given wings by your parents and as a result, you will always cheer your sons on. Marilou Tucker grew up hated by her community for nothing she’d done. Feeling unheard, she began to imagine fairy tales where someone set her free. That’s coming true.

Ben’s jaw slacked as he squeezed his son’s shoulder. “How on earth did you get so smart? Must come from your mother.”

“You’ve said that before, Pa. But I have happy memories from the years we struggled to get here and make our life here, while Mrs. Tucker interprets similar struggles as ruining her life and providing no fun or joy to the bleakness. The difference is that I had you to help me find the good parts.”

“I’ll take Tom aside tomorrow when I get the deed and tell him about this conversation. He’ll listen better if the words come from an ‘old guy’ like me rather than a kid who sees into hearts in ways we old codgers can’t.”

The Beginning (Rather than an Ending)

The two friends did a walk-around of the place after exchanging money and deed, with Tom pointing out upgrades he had made to the barn and equipment. The out buildings, as Tom’s domain, were neat and organized. This wasn’t a surprise, since he and Tom had learned such organization from the master, Abel Stoddard. And while the house still had the feel of surviving a canon attack, Ben suspected effort had been put into leaving it in better shape than his sons had described it. Even with some order apparent, there was elbow grease required to make the place suitable for a new tenant. Sensing his friend’s eagerness to get on the road, he let Tom believe everything was fine.

“Adam and I had a long talk after you left,” Ben ventured when he could no longer bear the sadness in Tom’s eyes. After explaining the gist of the conversation, he concluded, “It’s devastating to admit that your best efforts have failed, but I agree with Adam. Time and freedom may provide the answers separately that would never have come while together.”

“It rings true!” Tom replied. “I’d certainly decided I wasn’t the one who could help her, but your son’s thoughts make me hope that this is the only right thing to do. How did he come up with this after talking to her just a couple of times?”

“He listens better than most, and his childhood was difficult too. The difference between those two is his point of view. He was able to find the good in what he experienced along with the hard work and uncertainties.” Ben chuckled as he undid the reins from the hitch rail. “I guess I can take some credit for his attitude, since I never let him get bogged down by our experiences, and we always looked for the good things within the hard times. It seems Marilou was never shown how to do that. A loving family makes a lot of difference.”

Ben chuckled again. “I also believe Adam gets a heavenly direction from the three women who touched his life. There’s understanding in that boy that leaves me speechless sometimes.”

“I pray Marilou will change,” Tom confided. “Not for my sake. We are not a match that could withstand another marriage. What I do pray is that there is a better woman inside this frazzled shell, and that she finds her. I’ve kept Timmy from knowing the trouble his mother has caused, but he is getting old enough to see it and hear the gossip. He loves his mother, but that would change if we stayed together,” Tom sighed deeply. “I’d ask that you pray for Timmy and Marilou, Ben. Ask that he will have a chance to know her as she can be, not as she is now.”

“We’ll do that along with praying for safe travel and better days for all of you,” Ben promised while swinging himself onto his horse’s back. Giving Tom a smart salute, he added, “Give our old captain my warmest regards if you see him!”

 

Four Years Later in Boston

Blessed Are They

Charlie Ensworth pounded on the door of the room occupied by his two best friends at Harvard, Adam Cartwright, and Frankie Wadsworth. “Hey Adam,” he shouted. “Answer the door.”

A muffled, “Hold on a minute,” issued from behind the heavy barrier until it opened. “I was putting on my pants, Charlie. What’s the rush?

“Are you fully dressed now?” Charlie teased. “I don’t want you showing up in the lounge missing some vital piece of clothing.”

“What do you want, Charlie?” Frankie demanded as he joined Adam at the door.

“Mr. Adam Cartwright’s presence is requested in the parlor. There’s a woman and her son asking after him.”

“Huh?” Adam asked as his cheeks rose. “Did she give her name?”

“Nope. Hurry up though. You don’t want to be late for Professor Matthew’s class. You can’t skip or he’ll give you a failing grade for the day that’ll be hard to average in before the end of the semester, knocking you out of your top spot in the junior class.  Almost worse is incurring his never ending harassment over a tardy entrance into the auditorium.”

“Please tell her I’ll be out in a minute.” He looked down at his bare feet while scratching his messy head of hair. “Still need to get my shoes on, plaster my hair down, and grab my books.”

___

Adam finished getting ready while considering who’d seek him out on campus. The chilling conclusion was that it was one of Abel’s neighbors bearing bad news. Socks donned, shoes on and tied, and hair pomade hastily applied to tame the curls that had become springy without constantly wearing a hat as he had for most of his life, he made his way to the common area.

He spotted a woman and child gazing out at the beautiful campus from the far window of the room. Not recognizing them, he cleared his throat to make them turn.

She’d changed! Her hair was pinned up and she wore a fitted dress of good fabric that matched her small hat. Her appearance now fit her true age, giving her the grace missing when trying to pass herself off as twenty.

“Mrs. Tucker,” he said while setting his books on a chair and moving towards the duo. “Welcome!”

“Thank you, Adam.” She chuckled as she considered his greeting. “The funny thing is that I am still Mrs. Tucker, even though I’m no longer the wife of your father’s friend. Might you now be able to call me by my first name?”

“I can try,” he responded while getting the pit-of-the-stomach feeling this might turn into another strange conversation. “Is this tall young man, Timmy?” he asked. The time since last seeing these two had brought change in Marilou’s style more than her appearance, but the changes to her son were so profound as to be jaw dropping. He was several inches taller and not stick thin as before. His facial features were now more defined with wide-set cheekbones, darker hair, and a broad, toothy smile.

“It is,” she said with a prideful rise of her chin.

“Welcome, Timmy,” he added, extending his hand to the child. “What brings you both to Boston?”

“Tom and Timmy have had enough of farming, so they’re selling it to move here. They invited me to do the same. We arrived a few weeks back and found a house for them near the harbor where Tom will work … in a shipping office for now … and an apartment nearby for me. Tim and I stayed on to enroll him in school while Tom finalizes things in Pennsylvania.”

“I have so many questions,” he admitted. Yet he could ask only the most pressing, since Frankie and Charlie’s arrival indicated time was limited. Adam introduced his guests as neighbors from back home who were relocating to Boston. Sensing his friends’ desire to get him moving before they’d all be late for classes, he asked Tim, “Might you be hungry?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically. “I sure am.”

“The three of us are too. How about you come along to breakfast. Charlie and Frankie will tell you really bad jokes while you eat, and I’ll catch up with your mother.”

___

“The women who operated the cafeteria with militaristic precision, found no issue in the addition of a young boy for breakfast. They had noticed Adam from his first meals as a student, leading them to believe he’d come from a different background. He’d greeted them every day, complimented their meals, asked of their lives, and then remembered their names and situations. He’d even told them about the Chinese cook who kept the four men of his family in order with his fiery temper, along with his soft heart that alerted him to their needs before they knew they had them. He also bussed his own setting, even on days when this wasn’t required. The interesting part was that his ways began to change the attitudes of those who dined with him, making them all more gracious.

Marilou watched Adam’s easy way with those around him, as she sipped on coffee while he quickly ate a bowl of porridge. What she noticed most was his gaze returning to her son. “You’re well-liked here, Adam. That’s not surprising, since your sincerity is always evident.” She noted that his line of sight had again strayed to the table where his friends had made Timmy laugh so hard he’d choked on his milk. “Why are you staring at my son?” she finally asked.

A light blush colored his cheeks. “He’s grown so much. The hardest part about leaving home for five years was knowing that my brothers would keep growing up in my absence. Seeing Timmy gives me some idea of how much Little Joe has changed. I’m stuck between being amazed and heartbroken.”

“You’re changing too, Adam, and your family will be just as shocked to see you. You were a gangly, nice-looking teenager, and you’ve filled out into a handsome man. Yet, from what I’ve witnessed, you’re still as gentle and willing to listen.”

The blush returned briefly, but after a quick look to the clock above the entrance door, he knew he had to cut this unexpected reunion short. “We’re all due in class soon,” he said as he nodded towards the constant exodus of students. “That includes me since skipping a single class can put me far behind. So, may I ask why you’re here?” He rephrased his question. “You’ve told me why you’re in Boston, but why did you seek me out at school instead of at my grandfather’s house?”

Marilou took a deep breath. “I did speak to Abel, and he told me where to find you once he knew my intentions. I came to apologize for my actions in Nevada. But more so, I want to thank you for being a better friend than I could have ever imagined when I asked that of you.”

Adam’s rising left cheek, made her clarify. “On the way to San Francisco, Tom revealed what you’d told Ben about me needing a chance to decide my next steps without feeling pressured or judged. You’d listened to my ramblings, figuring out that I’d never felt valued enough to be heard.  You were right, Adam. Tom could see the results of that, but not the cause, especially in the light of what I’d put him and Timmy through.”

She paused to organize her thoughts. “Still, he was smart enough to know that whatever drove me to act that way made us all unhappy. He tried controlling and changing our situation in hopes that I’d find peace. But after those attempts failed, he offered to raise Timmy and give me the freedom I said I needed. It was best because my unhappiness had frozen me in a position of opposition to anyone’s ideas, and I lived in constant regret over not having the life I wanted. Even Timmy’s sweetness couldn’t thaw that.

“You went ahead with the annulment and the custody arrangement in San Francisco?”

A nod made her hat bounce. “At first I saw it only as the escape I’d imagined in each story I’d told of my life to some drunk or innocent young man. But Tom’s decision to set us all free, allowed me to finally see that what I’d been doing had made everyone as unhappy as I had claimed to be. I did need peace more than freedom. Once the legalities were done, they sailed East and I found a rooming house with other nice people, and then got a job at a store in San Francisco. It proved to be exactly what I’d hoped for all those years earlier.”

“How was that?”

“There were people at the store and boarding house I talked to each day. I was good with customers and showed the store owners that I could also handle their bookwork, earning their respect.  The couple who ran that store started asking me to sit in when the salesmen came through, and give an opinion about what items I thought might sell well. I was always right in my choices.

“That gave me confidence I’d always wanted. To do even better, I asked a teacher in my boarding house to help me improve my reading and grammar. I had the basics, but she helped me read history and the works of great writers. She also gave me a dictionary to look up words I didn’t know so I’d remember better.”

Marilou looked over at her son. “With so many good things happening, I no longer relied on my former “situation” stories to elicit sympathy. I started walking a lot, using the time to think through all I’d accomplished, and wonder why I could never find anything good about my life … even after having my son.”

“You’ve done a great job with this,” Adam told her with sincerity.

A nod. “I saw my life differently after a while. I hadn’t expected to find that I had always made choices: just bad ones. And I didn’t listen well either or I would have heard the sadness that had motivated my folks and Tim. My parents faced horrible obstacles in their life, and saw only one way to make things work. They hadn’t listened to me, but I began to see it wasn’t based on them being mean or hurtful. They simply couldn’t imagine how they could do without me. Marrying Tim could have been done better so both our parents would have understood our plans and supported us.

“And then I decided Tim had tricked me into marrying him, always intending to stay on the farm, until I remembered how sad he’d looked when telling me he couldn’t sell the place just yet. He’d promised we’d go once he could make enough to move, and he worked night and day to make that happen. I was finally able to recall what the doctor had said when he’d tended to Tim after the accident. Tim was in bad shape physically at the time. He was pale and thin, and the doctor thought he was in his 50s not his 20s. His said my husband had literally worked himself to death. The position of his body under the plow suggested he might have fallen asleep driving, tumbling forward off the seat and into the path of the blades. The horses continued moving, crushing him under the attachment.  I feel sick that I never saw how much he was suffering.”

She took a breath. “Then I grew to hate Tom and said evil, untrue things about him, even after he gave up the job he loved most to help me and Timmy. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, I would have gone to prison for abandoning my baby and Timmy would have been sent to an orphanage. Despite how badly I treated Tom, he stuck with us until he saw me trying to use the son of his best friend in my scheme, realizing I could have ruined your life with my lies.”

Another glance at the clock alerted Adam that he had only minutes left. “You came to see this all on your own?”

“I did some, but I had a little heavenly help too. The teacher from the boarding house, invited me to church with her. My mother’s type of religion was laden with laws, punishment, and eternal damnation, so I went with Cynthia just to be friendly, assuming I could duck it eventually. That day changed my life. This was a congregation who understood the laws and the consequences, but applied salvation, telling me that with faith, our shortcomings were forgiven.  The minister presented the same scriptures as my mother had, but in a hopeful way where I didn’t have to earn God’s love: I always had it.  I made friends there, Adam. Real ones who’d found their way through the worst of times too, and helped me examine those old hurts with a new heart. The day I confessed all I’d done, I felt fully free for the first time.”

“That sounds amazing,” Adam told her while smiling. “I wish you’d gotten to know my father better. He was a pretty good ‘pastor and preacher’ to us. He would have helped you see the same things. But I doubt you were ready to hear it back then.”

“You’re right about that. The pastor spent hours with me, really listening, and like you, he saw the cause of my anger that produced the effects everyone endured. He said that over the years, he’s found that when kids don’t feel valued or their ideas or dreams don’t matter, they eventually come to hate themselves, thinking it’s something missing in them that makes others disregard them. He was right, Adam. I didn’t see it, but it’s what drove me to stop listening too and blame everyone else for being angry and unhappy. It drove my bad choices.” Marilou’s eyes brightened. “The other wonderful thing he said was that I let Timmy go with Tom because I loved him. I instinctively knew I had to learn why I was so unhappy to be a better mother. Tom was a godsend who gave my son a very good life while letting me find my way back to my son with a repaired heart.

Adam’s smile was genuine and encouraging. “I’ve never heard a better explanation of what people experience when feeling unloved.” Another glance at the clock pressed him on. “How did you end up back here?”

“Let me disabuse you of thinking there will be some fairytale ending where Tom and I will live happily ever after now.” She laughed. “See, I’ve learned a fancy word or two myself.” She laughed again at Adam’s sideways glance and gentle head wag. “That day in San Francisco when I finally made a decision on my own was a long time coming.”

“I see it as either setting you free or paralyzing you,” Adam suggested.

“It was freeing, but not easy. And once I made great progress with myself, the pastor called me in again to say it was time to do right by my son. When I seemed confused, he explained that Timmy would begin wondering why I hadn’t come for him. He wouldn’t blame me, he’d start to blame himself, thinking he wasn’t good enough that I’d want him back. It hit like a punch to the gut, but I knew he was right. I’d always wanted better for Timmy. It was time to do that.”

“This is such an amazing story!”

“There’s something you need to know. When I’d listen to that pastor tell me about how I’d need to love myself, forgive those who had hurt me, and make amends to those I’d hurt: I thought about you. I feel awful when I think back to all the complaining I did about being the oldest and being expected to contribute so much to my family, like I was the only person who ever experienced this. I finally saw that you and your family had gone through the same thing. I should have asked why you were so happy about your life or how your family did so well with similar circumstances. I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

Adam blushed. “Thanks for telling me that. I admit wondering how you couldn’t see that many people faced the same choices you had.”

“Knowing it was time to see Tom and Timmy, I took passage with missionaries returning East. Tom welcomed me back. We didn’t pretend things could be the same, but they were good. He fixed up a bunk house as a house for me. Then I slowly became part of Tim’s life again, allowing Tom to trust that I was sincere. With this going so well, Tom admitted he hated farming, and suggested selling it to move back to Boston. His plan is to work in an office now, but if he’s convinced I can raise Timmy on my own, he’ll give us the house and return to service on the sea.”

“I’m happy for all of you, and so thrilled to have heard your update. Yet I’m sorry you made the trip to Cambridge when I’m pressed for time. You didn’t have to do this, but thank you.”

“I did have to do this. The preacher said it wasn’t an accident that you picked Little Joe up that day. He called you a blessing: someone whose open heart could see more than my crazy antics, and that allowed you to offer hope to us where none seemed evident. I had to let you know that.”

“I consider your visit today a blessing too. I’ll be in Boston a while yet, and I’d like to see all of you when I’m not rushing off. I’ll ask Grandfather to arrange something when Mr. Tucker arrives.”

“I’d wish you luck, Adam, but luck is something you don’t need.” She winked as she rose after calling Timmy to join her. “Just stay who you are and opportunities will flood in.”

___

“That was really someone from home?” Frankie asked as he and Adam trotted across the yard to make class on time.

“The Tuckers lived near the Ponderosa the year before I left for Boston. It’s a long story we don’t have time for now.”

“Her son is a quick study and funny. I saw you staring at us, though. Were we being too loud?”

Adam remained silent as the two slowed to enter the heavy doors of the lecture auditorium. Frankie was a quick study too who knew his friend’s times of silence were usually related to his mind traveling a couple thousand miles west. He’d witnessed deep homesickness blanket his friend at times in the years they’d been roommates, and noted that same wistful look wash over him as they headed upwards towards empty seats in the middle of the large hall.

“I’m guessing Timmy’s about the same age as Little Joe?” he asked to confirm his suspicions. He received a nod as they did a crab walk to reach two seats available halfway across the crowded row. Knowing he couldn’t let Adam remain where he’d gone, he  pulled him into the chair next to him just as the professor entered and took his place behind the large podium.

Leaning towards Adam, Frankie whispered, “Well doesn’t he look all pompous today,” as he nodded towards the man at the front of the class. “I’ll bet you a beer at the student pub tonight that he’s got an unscheduled test in that fat folder he just set down.”

Both boys laughed quietly when the man pulled down a chalkboard filled with problems to solve, and said, “Clear your desk of everything but a pencil.”  A smug smile accompanied him on his way across the front row, handing each student a stack of test booklets, while instructing, “Take one of these and pass the pile back. Your test scores on the last exam were so miserable they indicate you aren’t keeping up with your reading assignments. Until further notice, I’ll give daily quizzes to assist you in developing consistent study habits. They will be graded and worked into your overall average, so take this seriously. Please answer the seven problems on the board, showing your process in the booklet.”

Adam leaned closer to Frankie as they set their books on the floor and raised the small work surface attached to the back of the seat in front of them. “You should drop out of engineering to becoming a fortune teller, touring theaters and sideshows as a prognosticator extraordinaire. You guessed Professor Matthews’ intention from his expression and a stuffed portfolio. Seems you might do better at that than passing calculus tests.”

“I’ll speak to my father about changing careers when we’re at the house this weekend. I’ll also be sure to tell him you suggested it. But since you’re rapidly becoming his favorite ‘son,’ he’ll probably agree wholeheartedly. How does Wadsworth the Prophet sound for a stage name?” He laughed quietly. “Just keep your left arm off your booklet so I can check my answers with yours! I need to pass just in case my father prefers I stay the course to becoming an engineer.”

 

The End

 

Notes:

¹ The near shotgun style wedding between Adam and Becka is told in my story, Say Something.

²From my story, When Lies Wound a Broken Heart

³ Logistical seems like a modern word, yet Antoine-Henri Jomini, a Swiss military officer who served as a general in French and later in Russian service, and one of the most celebrated writers on the Napoleonic art of war, may have coined the term logistics in his Summary of the Art of War (1838).

*(Matthew 6:34)

My stories of Adam at school place him with Frankie Wadsworth as his roommate, and connect him to the Wadsworth family. He’d met the father, Frank, at an event when he’d first arrived and tested into Harvard, and the man had been so impressed with Adam’s background and scholarship that he’d quietly arranged for him to be his son’s roommate, hoping that the Cartwright boy’s methods and intellect would help Frankie through what was sure to be a difficult adjustment to a very difficult curriculum.

 

Tags:  Loving family moments