To say that Adam was disappointed the next morning to find his brother chatting away to Etta and Hoss would be a gross understatement. After his own restless night, dozing in the chair and waking at the slightest sound. Wishing and hoping that Joe would have another dream, even a nightmare so that he could see him once more as himself. It wasn’t to be. Waking early he paid a visit to the outhouse, then freshened himself at the outside pump. He could hear Hoss mumbling, complaints or complements to the cow or horses he didn’t know which. Hoss called a good morning. Which he returned. He silently watched Hoss as he entered the house by the kitchen door. As usual he carried in the milk. Adam decided to say nothing about the previous night. If what he thought had happened, had happened then there would be no reason to say anything. Joe waking as himself would prove him right. If he didn’t well there would be no reason to say anything, just wait and see if the incident was repeated.As Adam entered the kitchen little Joe’s calls for his mama took the strength from his body. Grabbing a hold of a chair he sat himself at the table and listened to Hoss’s voice and Joe’s giggles and Etta scolding the two of them. He shut his eyes and prayed for strength, not just for his body but for his mind and soul.For three consecutive nights little Joe woke screaming in fear on two of those nights he awoke more than once. His reoccurring dreams were terrifying him. After each awakening he was himself. He spoke rationally sharing his nightmares of the black, screaming skies, screaming animals, screaming people and falling. Forever falling, the screams and cries cutting into his head. At one point he begged for Adam to help him. Not knowing whether he was awake or dreaming. Pleading for something to stop the searing pain in his head.It was on the third morning over breakfast Adam told Hoss of the night dramas. Hoss, forever the optimist, thought it was a good sign saying that if Joe was himself in his dreams it wouldn’t be long before he would be himself when he was awake. The fact that Joe had no knowledge of these dreams and nightmares when he was awake didn’t figure in Hoss’s equation. Etta repeated her advise of last night. She could offer no explanation and advised Adam to speak with Tom Simms. Adam made two decisions. The first that he would speak with Tom. The second if Tom did not arrive as expected tomorrow he would ride into Turner’s Town.The previous night Joe’s cries had woken Etta. Quietly she had crept into the bedroom and witnessed the scene. Joe was in a state of distress and fear. Pleading with his brother to help him. To keep him from falling back to asleep. He was feared of the dreams and nightmares. One moment he was trembling in terror the next groaning in pain and thrashing his head against the pillows. Adam struggled to control his brother. Etta slipped out to the kitchen and prepared a dose of laudanum. On her return Adam had his brother clasped to his chest. Whether little Joe was in some kind of faint or had fallen back to sleep Etta couldn’t tell. She tapped Adam’s shoulder and showed him the glass. Joe drew his head back away from his brothers shoulder. A look of horror over came him. Etta immediately realised the reason and swiftly turned and made for the door. The cry of Joe’s ‘Mama’ was not that of the child’s voice but of the man’s, at the realisation that he had seen his dead mother.Adam stayed with Joe until the combination of the laudanum and fatigue took a hold of his brothers body. Joe’s white knuckle grip on Adam’s hand relaxed as he slipped into an induced, deep sleep.

Feeling completely rung out Adam joined Etta in the main room. Etta had made a brew of herbal tea and warm brandy. She also had popped a log on the fire and the warm glow was more than inviting. They sat in comfortable silence. Both reliving what had just happened. The last three nights had taken it’s toll on Adam. After each of little Joe’s nightmares, he experienced moments of being himself. Each night the moment’s lengthened and when, at last, Joe drifted into a deep sleep. Adam would sit, drained in body and mind. The only time little Joe knew and recognised Adam to be his brother, the boy was in fear. As much as Adam wanted Joe’s mind to be his own he couldn’t bear to see the terror in Joe’s eyes.

Relaxed by the infusion of tea and the warm brandy Adam felt the draw on his eyes. His eyelids slowly closed as he gave into a worry free sleep. Startled awake he realised it was the snuggling in of Etta’s head against his shoulder that had disturbed him. He looked down upon her sleeping face. The soft glow emanating from the fire highlighted the moisture from the tea and brandy on her lips. Her mouth slack with sleep was slightly open. It was all Adam could do to stop from tracing her lips with one of his fingers and then pressing that finger to his own mouth. Instead he curled his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled in closer to his open shirted chest. Normally he would never have compromised a woman dressed only in her night attire. He knew he should wake Etta and apologise for his behaviour. It seemed to Adam, he appeared to be moving in a slow, trance like dream. To Adam everything was perfectly right and natural. He wanted to be nowhere else in this world but sitting here beside Etta Tone. It felt the most normal thing to do. To raise his hand upward and feel the softness of those chestnut curls. The light of the fire glistened across the strands of her hair. The need to feel the warmth of that rich colour against his palm was overpowering. The need to breathe the woman’s fragrance overcame him. He lowered his head. His chin rested on a pillow of softness. She wore no perfume or cologne to distract or entrance. The aromas of the house, fresh baked bread, coffee and herbs mixed with the wild flowers and grasses from the meadow. Closing his eyes he inhaled this concoction, a deep, satisfying breath of the woman. Holding the breath within himself. Making the moment last. With a precise slowness he exhaled. She moved beside him. Opening his eyes, hers were upon. The dying glow that still hung in the hearth had made her face indiscernible. Two green, shining, globes shone from the shadows fixing him with a stare that sent his blood racing. The pounding in his veins travelled through him slamming into his heart, setting his temple throbbing and his groin aching.

“Not like this, not here.” his voiced deepened, cracked with emotion it became a whisper. “not like this.” he buried her head in his chest and buried his face in her hair. He could find no other words. He could no longer face the look of rejection in her eyes.

Etta’s body moved against him he released his hold. She stood and looked down at him, all feeling and desire stripped from her face. In silence she walked out of the room. Adam couldn’t bear the pain that ripped through him. Before she reached the door he had caught her and pulled her into his embrace. He knew now that he couldn’t live without her.

“I love you Etta. I want you for my wife.”

Her body sagged against him, thinking she was going to fall he swept her into his arms.

“I love you…l love you…l love you.” he whispered into her hair…her neck…her mouth

Etta’s body trembled in his arms. He kissed the tears from her eyes. Licked the salty tears from her cheeks and her neck. Her sorrow flowed from every pore in her body.

“You know that can never be. It can never happen.”

“I will make it happen. As God is my witness. I will make it happen.

Cradling her in his arms he walked to the bedroom. He toed the half open door with his boot, lightly back heeled it closed behind him. Gently he laid her on the bed.

“Stay with me.” she whispered.

“For eternity.” he replied.