On a different trail but heading for the same destination. The Cartwright caravan, a wagon and four riders on horse back. Made their way, in their own time, onwards to the Ponderosa. Slowly, steadily and with much more ease and comfort than that of the Overland Stage. The five journeyers drew nearer to the pines.

Hop Sing insisted on taking the cooking chores. Joe had paced himself and with determination and discipline. He was now able to manage two full hours a day on horseback. Separated by a good few hours rest. The cramping in his thigh and calf was still a painful problem. At times hitting him with such severity that he was unable to hold back his cries. He was further frustrated by the fact that Adam or Hoss would have to help him to dismount. His leg, being stiffly encased in the plaster. His muscles would spasm and contract leaving his leg rigid inside the man made restriction. Joe abhorred the weakness in his limbs that the accident had inflicted upon him. Still possessing the vanity of youth, he prided himself in the fit active body he had been deprived of. The amount of physical work that culminated in the daily running of a ranch as big as the Ponderosa was a major contributor to keeping his small wiry, frame, well muscled, fit and healthy. His brothers teased him unmercifully that he didn’t pull his weight. But that was just a tease. Joe Cartwright worked as hard and long as any other man on the property. He had hoped that their wouldn’t be hardly any trace of the accident for his father to have to concern himself. This now as not a possibility. Even at the pace they were traveling. This would be the penultimate night on the trail. Joe looked down at himself. He sorely needed more than a few extra pounds of flesh on his bones. A fact that Hoss didn’t hesitate to keep him informed of. One that he found more than annoying. The many hours sitting and laying in the wagon gave way to thought. He wondered that his big brother must feel the same kind of annoyance, when he and others referred to his largeness of body and appetite. He resolved, in the future, to be much more sympathetic to his brothers size.

Joe had to admit that as much as he hated taking them. The powders and medication that Etta had brought with her had made his days more comfortable. They helped to relax his muscles and soothe the pounding headaches which regularly plagued him. Hop Sing as always had his own potions and teas. Joe felt at times as if Etta and Hop Sing tried to out do each other in their concoctions, and he was the human Guinea Pig.

With the evening drawing in, camp was set up beside a small stream a tributary of the Truckee River.

Etta’s question as to when she would see the Ponderosa brought a chuckle from the men and a gasp from Etta herself when Adam informed they had been on the Ponderosa for the past two days, and there was still another two days of riding before they reached the ranch.

Hoss and Joe had been successful in their fishing. A fine catch of trout. Hop Sing fried them crisp, they made for a delicious supper. Which was a welcome change from the rabbit, bacon and jerky that had been their staple diet of the previous days. Etta was amazed at the Chinese man’s culinary ingenuity. He being able, with barest of utensils and ingredients to prepare a tasty meal. It turned out to be a good idea to bring along Mallow, the cow. There was always a fresh supply of milk, and what with Hoss’s regular riding ahead and meanderings. He often came back with a few treats. Eggs, butter, bread and sometimes a fresh baked pie. Which Joe teased that it was a wonder the pie hadn’t made it back in Hoss’s gut. They would never have known if it had. At his brothers furious glare and growl of ‘he would have known’. Joe remembered his recent resolve and much to Hoss’s surprise, Joe quickly apologised. Only to have Hoss bring a wry smile to Joe’s lips by adding that he only got the pie so’s he wouldn’t be taking a skeleton home to Pa.

The nearer they drew to the ranch the more Etta’s bouts of apprehension increased. How would Adam’s father take to his son’s choice of a wife? How would Ben Cartwright feel about his daughter-in-law looking so alike his dead wife? Adam and Hoss had come to terms or used to Etta’s appearance. The shock was not visible anymore on their faces. Hop Sing as like the few Asian’s Etta had previously met was extremely adept at keeping his feelings and facial expressions well separated. With little Joe though there were still moments when a look. Or a surprised disbelieving stare would stay fixed to his face. Whether in conversation or just a side long glance. It was not Etta that Joe was seeing it was his mama. Would Ben Cartwright though be able to take Etta as a person in her own right or would she always be a remembered vision of his late wife?

Etta had been wanting to talk with Adam. On the many times she had tried to bring up the subject, she had held back, wondering if Adam being somewhat biased would be able to give a less than truthful opinion. Etta hadn’t needed to voice her misgivings to Joe.

Adam had decided to go off with Hoss on one of his jaunts. Before they left, Joe, who had not been having a good day, had another violent attack of cramp. Hoss and Adam helped him from his horse to the wagon. Hop Sing decided a brief stop was necessary. They were following the course of another stream. Taking the canteens he made his way down to the fresh, flowing water. Etta sat in the wagon with Joe. She had given him a pain killing sedative. At first he insisted he was fine. Etta was now well aware of Joe’s small untruths. She was just as insistent that he take the medication. Which he did. Now he was laying back, his head and shoulders resting against the pillowed side of the wagon. His eyes were closed. His face twitched and grimaced as the stabbing pains attacked his thigh and calf, which would then leave in his leg an aching, numbness.

Etta sat with her knees pulled up to her chin. The pants that she wore, which had belonged to her husband. She had altered them to fit, were tucked into her boots. The baggy shirt, again her husbands she had tucked loosely into the waistband. For the journey Etta had decided to revert to the form of clothing she wore regularly around the ranch. That is until Adam Cartwright came into her life.

She sat staring at the dark pines. Her thoughts were again drawn to her new home and her new life.
Being with Adam in her own home, on her own ranch. She had felt comfortable. She as in control in her own surroundings. She had lived alone for nearly two years. She had needed no one. She was her own boss. Able to come and go as she pleased. Although Harriet Simms had often told her she was trapped in her own prison. She never felt that way. Never felt trapped nor imprisoned. She had no need of Turner’s Town or any other town. She had then allowed Adam Cartwright into her life. Into her world. What though would it be like in his world? What would it be like in his life? What would Ben Cartwright be like? He was more than a man, more than a father to his sons. She had heard them talking. Hoss had told her about the Ponderosa and his Pa. Would Ben Cartwright be her first obstacle? Of course he would.

‘ Hi Pa, this is my finance…Etta Tone…The Murderess.”

How would Ben Cartwright welcome his daughter-in-law to be into his family? Etta Tone, the murderess. Would he welcome her with open arms?…this woman…this apparition of his dead wife.

The feeling that she as being watched prompted her to lower her gaze to the man beside her. Joe’s eyes, dulled slightly due to the drug he had recently taken, were still piercing in their intensity. He seemed to be searching her soul. There was hardly any bruising or marks left on his face from the accident. Only a trace of of the stitching on his forehead, which was already being hidden by his rapidly growing, thick, curly hair. There as a small, faded blemish on his left cheek, obviously an injury from long ago. Maybe as a child. This did nothing to detract from his clean cut, boyish features. There was no doubt, Etta thought, that Joe Cartwright, as like his brother Adam was a remarkably handsome man. Though in a totally different way from his elder brother. His penetrating gaze sent a shiver through through her. His lips pursed and tightened into a lopsided, half grin.

“He aint that scary ya know.” Etta’s brow furrowed, questioning Joe’s ability to read her mind. “he’ll love you just like we all do. You’ll see, l reckon, at first though, you’ll scare the pants offa him.”

Joe’s grin widened, his eyes softened, trying to make light of what he knew to be the woman’s concerns. Etta returned a half smile of her own. A smile which went nowhere near her eyes. Joe’s well meaning, good intentioned words did very little to ease her mind. Etta Tone had to admit she was more scared than she had been for a long time. Scared of a man she had never seen and had yet to meet.