The following morning, as he descended the stairs Adam noted that he had only his brothers for company. He hadn’t expected his Pa to be down for breakfast but had hoped that Etta, who was normally an early riser would be present.
“What time ya call this?” Joe questioned through a mouthful of egg. Adam settled himself and spread his napkin on his knee before he spoke.

“l could ask you the same thing. Isn’t it usually noon before you greet the world. And, if you don’t mind, l would prefer you to reply without splattering me with the half chewed contents of your mouth.”

Hoss threw Adam a frown from under his hooded brows. He kept his silence, paying close attention to his breakfast. Adam helped himself to the scrambled eggs and bacon “Just because Pa isn’t sitting over you it doesn’t mean you have to drop the modicum of manners that he somehow managed to drill into that thick skull of yours.”

This time Hoss’s eyes flicked at the brother sitting opposite him. Joe returned a wide, eyed look his dark brows rising to meet his hairline. Making a dramatic show of swallowing, he swilled his mouth with warm coffee and loudly gulped the fluid down his throat.

“There how’s that,” he gaped his mouth open wide for inspection. Adam gave a look a disgust while Hoss snickered into his hand. “do l have permission to speak now?”

Adam didn’t bother to reply or even look up from his plate. “l reckon you need more sleep elder brother, you’re getting a mite snippy. Reckon your keeping pretty late hours. It was well past midnight before you hit the sack…upstairs.” Hoss took a deep breath, closed his eyes and sat back. He couldn’t believe it. As if there weren’t enough tension in the house without these two starting up. With precise deliberation Adam placed his knife and fork on his plate and slowly lifted his head to stare into the look of innocence masking Little Joe’s features.

“l have no concern at all about what you do or do not ‘reckon’. I would though like you to explain that last remark?” Adam’s voice was low, his words precise, without emotion.

“Nah, not really, l think l made myself clear…after all aint you the one with the college education.” Hoss decided to cut in before things got out of hand.

“Listen up you two, aint we got enough trouble on our door step without this.”

Adam pinched at the bridge of his nose. Joe sulkily picked at some toast crumbs that had fallen onto the table cloth. Both looked suitably chastened. Joe though had to have the last word.

“He oughtend to come at me like that Hoss. He’s the one to tell me to mind my manners.”

Adam was more than chastened. He knew Joe was right. He was the last person who should be casting stones. Taking Joe completely by surprise. Adam apologised for his behaviour. Though still insisted that there was no need for that kind of sarcastic remark. Hoss smiled in satisfaction. Joe grinned back at Hoss then directed his words to Adam.

“I only learned from the master of sarcasm, aint Pa always telling me to take more notice of the example set by elder brother?”

“Only when it suits you too.” Adam agreed giving a halfhearted, soft chuckle.

At that point both Etta and Hop Sing appeared on the scene. The former from her bedroom. The latter from the upper floor. Hop Sing carried a tray of delph, the crockery making more noise than the light footed Chinese man made, on his descent down the stairway. The questioning faces of the brothers turned to the small man. He stopped at the table and placed the tray upon it.

“Mista Ben feel betta. Mr Ben eat litta, drink litta. Hop Sing tell stay bed. Mista Ben speak with No 1 son.”

His information to his employers son’s given. Hop Sing turned his attention to Etta “Hop Sing get Missy Etta flesh egg.”

Etta’s already pale face blanched at the man’s words. Giving him a tight smile, she advised she would be happy with a slice of toast and coffee. Etta gave credence to her words. Picking up the pot she poured herself out a cupful and held it out to the men. Hoss shook his head. Joe and Adam passed their cups for refills. Adam immediately downed his. Placed a light kiss on the top of Etta’s head. Then made his way up the stairs to his father’s bedroom. Three pairs of eyes followed his slow climb to the first floor.

The door was slightly ajar, nevertheless, Adam tapped his knuckles on the polished wood before he carefully pushed the door open. His father was laying back against a pile of pillows. Ben’s silvery hair was swamped by the crisp, white, linen.

Not allowing a sound to escape from the meeting of his booted feet with the wooden floor. Adam made his way to the bedside. Silently he sat on the upholstered chair that was positioned beside his fathers bed. He remained silent. His forward leaning body touched the edge of the bed. His father’s arms were over the bed linen, laying inert at his side. He knew, if it were Hoss, and even more so Little Joe, they would have their fathers hand held in theirs. Why did he hesitate? If the scenario were reversed, his Pa would be clinging to Adam’s hand. A life line that the man hoped would speed recovery.

“Son?” the moment had passed. His fathers brown eyes, bleary with sleep and dulled with medication, searched Adam’s face. Before Adam could speak his father’s soft, slightly croaky voice penetrated the silence. “Adam, you’ll have to help me son.”

“Help you?” Adam sat back in the chair…he looked down at his clasped hands. The hands that had made no contact with his father’s “of course l’ll help you Pa. But there is nothing for you to do but sleep.”

“Oh yes, l’ll sleep son, l am tired, very tired. Never felt so tuckered out.” Ben’s face took on a worried frown. This time when Adam leaned forward, without a second thought he found his father’s hand in his.

“It’s probably just the effect’s of the sedation that Paul gave you. You have to sleep it off to get it out of your system. Stop worrying and do as the doctor told you, sleep.” Ben gave a stiff, half smile and a soft chuckle. Like father like son he thought.

“l will…l will sleep. Now you stop worrying.” nodding his head Adam pulled the same half smile. “Adam, son, it is in my mind that l owe an apology, to you or someone. l have no idea what for. I know something happened last night. I have no idea what.”

For some reason now it was easy and natural for Adam to keep his father’s hand enclosed in his palm. His father had a large, calloused hand. The hand of a man that worked hard. Worked with rough materials. Worked on the land. Yet his father’s hand looked small in Adam’s palm. It was as if it had shrunk during the night. Adam’s hand, it too the hand of a hard working man, was able to easily enclose his father’s. The long elegant fingers encircled the older mans hand and held it in a firm but gentle grip.

“What can you remember?”

“Son l don’t know if it is a dream or if it really happened…it all seems bizarre and strange…it must have been a dream.”

Tell me? That is the only way l can help. Tell me? Maybe l can tell you if it is a dream or not.”

“I’ll try,” Ben closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in thought. “l do remember, now this is not a dream. I do remember getting off the Stage. Going to the Silver Dollar to wait for Paul. Talking with Sam. Paul turned up and we drove in his buggy to the house, and then.” Ben paused in his recollection. Opened his puzzled eyes and stared into his eldest son’s calm, patient, handsome face.

“And then?” Adam repeated. His father took in a lungful of air and exhaled a long sigh.

“And then…and then you told me you were getting married. You had asked a young lady to be your wife. The woman, Adam, the woman you had asked to be your wife was your mama, mama Marie. She was standing beside you. Marie, my wife was right there in the room. The next thing you were hanging from the ceiling…no not hanging, looking down at me from the ceiling. Joseph threw himself at me, or, l don’t know, maybe he tried to throw a punch at me. Though why l think Little Joe would take a swing at me, l have no idea. Your brother was pulling at me and l tried to reach for you and pull you down from the ceiling, but l couldn’t. l couldn’t reach you…I could hear myself shouting at you…son, it was all a crazy dream, a bizarre, crazy dream. I can make no sense of it.”

Adam listened without making any comment. It seemed to him that his father’s face had eased, gone from it’s worried puzzlement, to a calm, look of relief.

“Can you recall what you were shouting?” Ben’s lids had drooped over his eyes. They remained closed as he answered.

“Oh, l don’t know…l think l was shouting that l was sorry l couldn’t reach you and pull you back down…it still makes no sense to me…but…now that l have told you, l feel l could sleep. Yes l can sleep now.”

“That’s good. Do you need anything Pa, a drink?”

“Thank you son.” Adam helped his father to a glass of water. He stayed until Ben’s breathing had evened and the hand. Still held in his palm had become limp. Loosening his firm grip he slipped his hand from beneath his father’s, but not until he had lifted the hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of the tanned, creased skin.

“Sleep well Pa.”

He exited the room in the manner he had entered. A tall, black, silent shadow.