Summary:   A sweet little ol’ lady arrives on the stage and befriends Hoss and Joe. Who would have guessed that such a sweet woman could be such a deranged killer?

Rated: T (15,765 words)

Story Notes:

Those who have read my previous story- Stranger on a Stage– will remember the character, Amy Sampson, and the town of Left Ridge. It is not necessary to read it in order to understand.

This story was written for southernsuga (our resident “Bloodthirsty SothernBelle”) as a WIP on the forums.

 

A Taste of Southern Sugar

“You will give Joe my love won’t you, Hoss?” Amy Sampson stood with her arm looped through her fathers on the boardwalk outside the stage office.

“I will, Miss Amy,” Hoss replied wearily to the question that had already been asked him several times. He tossed his bag up to the driver and opened the door to the stage. Poking his head inside, Hoss smiled at the empty coach. At least he would be able to stretch out his long frame on the journey back to Virginia City.

“Will you give him this?” Hoss turned to see what Amy was referring to and received a hasty peck on the check before Amy once again retreated to her father.

“Thank you for comin’ Hoss” Craig Sampson smiled and patted his daughters hand as it curved around his arm. “Tell your Pa that I always enjoy doing business with him and his sons.”

“I will, Sir.” Hoss tipped his hat and climbed into the coach shutting the door behind him and sticking his hand out in a final wave.

The stage driver finished securing all the items to the top and was about to set the horses in motion when a voice called out.

“Hold the stage!”

Hoss stuck his head out of the window and looked toward the voice. A little woman scurried toward them with her hands grasping folds of her billowing grey skirt.

Hoss opened the stage door and stepped out. “What’s the trouble, Ma’am?”

“Is this the stage for Virginia City?” She placed a hand lightly over her heart and breathed deeply.

“Yes’m,” Hoss nodded taking off his hat.

The little lady nodded her grey head. “Then I need to be on it. Do you have room, driver?”

Jim smiled at the old woman, “There’s plenty if you don’t mind sharing some of it with ol’ Hoss here.”

The lady looked up at Hoss with deep blue eyes. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Hoss smiled sweetly at the little woman. “Do you have any bags?”

“I’ve sent them on ahead.”

Hoss nodded and helped the woman into the stage.

“Do you prefer a certain side?” She paused looking to Hoss before sitting.

“Either side works just as well for me ma’am.” Hoss watched the woman look at both the benches before choosing the one facing forward. Hoss climbed in and sat across from her.

“I’m Hoss Cartwright.”

“Lydia James” Miss Lydia’s voice was soft and held a hint of southern twang. Her face was wrinkled with age and if Hoss breathed in deep enough he could smell a hint of honeysuckle.

“You going to be staying in Virginia City for awhile?” Hoss asked as the stage leapt into motion.

“I’m gonna be livin’ there.” Miss Lydia replied folding her hands on her lap and looking excitedly out the widow as the scenery began to fly past. “I’m moving into a little house just south of town. I believe they called it the Mc… Mc-something,” she shook her head. “I can’t seem to remember.”

“McBain? The McBain cabin?” Hoss suggested.

“That’s it. You know it? Will we be neighbours?” She looked hopefully at Hoss.

“No, Ma’am, not neighbours. I used to know Jedadiah McBain before he passed on.”

“Oh, I am sorry.” She reached across and patted Hoss’ arm. “Was he a good friend of yours?”

“Well…” Hoss tried to think of something diplomatic to say about the man who had drunk himself to death the winter before. “I helped him out on several occasions.” Hoss looked out the window and saw Left Ridge disappearing rapidly behind them then turned back to the woman across from him.

“Is it a nice town?” Miss Lydia went back to staring out the window.

“I think so.” Hoss followed suit and looked out the other window. “The people are friendly enough.”

“Are they?” Miss Lydia had an excited look on her face.

“I’m sure you’ll make a lot of new friends pretty quick.” Hoss assured.

“Good.” Miss Lydia relaxed against the back of her seat. “Good.”

—————————————–

2

Hoss scrunched up his face in a smile. “She couldn’t have been no bigger than this.” He held his hand up chest high. “I had to pick her up out of the stage.”

Joe smiled as he watched his middle brother tell of his stage ride home from Left Ridge. He was glad it had gone smoother than the last trip he, himself, had taken to that town. He had missed Hoss a lot for the week he had been gone.

“She’s gonna be moving into the McBain place.”

“It’s pretty small isn’t it?” Adam sank down in his blue chair with his cup of coffee in his hand.

“She’s just one little lady,” Hoss shrugged. “She don’t need more than two rooms.”

Adam nodded and sipped his coffee carefully to not burn himself. “Isn’t it pretty run down?”

Hoss looked to his Pa as he spoke. “I offered to help her fix it up.”

Ben raised his eyebrows, “Did you?”

“Yessir.” Hoss swallowed.

Ben nodded and thought for a moment, “Little Joe can help you.”

A look of relief flooded Hoss’ face. “You’ll love her, Joe. She really is the sweetest thing you ever did see.”

Joe tried to smile, but the thought of mending roofs and cleaning out old chicken coops didn’t seem appealing. Not to mention, he had bad memories connected to strangers on the stage from Left Ridge.

Hoss saw his brother’s smile waning and tried to think of something to cheer him with. “Amy Sampson sure seemed disappointed to see me instead of you, Joe and she sends her love.”

Adam and Ben turned to Joe to try and gauge his reaction. When Ben had suggested it be Joe to go and make the contract negotiations Joe had begged his way out of it. Adam wasn’t sure whether it was the stage ride he wanted to avoid or the girl waiting at the other end of the line.

Hoss wrinkled his nose, “She gave me a kiss to give you, but I don’t reckon you want me to give it to you.”

Joe’s eyes got big, “No, Hoss, that’s alright. You can keep it!”

———————————–

3

Joe found himself smiling the moment he laid eyes on Miss Lydia James. She was the cutest little thing Joe’d ever seen. She ran out to meet them as they rode up. Her run was really more like a bouncing walk. Her grey hair was pulled back in a bun at the back of her head. Her face was all smiles with a roadmap of wrinkles across it. Her blue eyes twinkled as she reached up to grasp Joe’s hand before he could dismount.

“Bless you for comin’ ta help.” Joe smiled further at her soft voice twinged with a southern accent.

Joe dismounted, “My pleasure, Ma’am.” He took off his hat and glanced over at Hoss with a look that said: I think I’m in love.

“Hoss dear!” Miss Lydia flounced over to Hoss and taking his hand in both of hers held it for a moment. “Is this your younger brother?” She looked back at Joe with a smile sweeter than sugar.

“Yes, Ma’am, this is my youngest brother Joseph.”

“Joseph,” Miss Lydia dropped Hoss’ hand and stepped toward Joe. “Do ya go by Joseph or Joe?”

“Normally Joe, Ma’am, but either will do.”

“I will call you Joe and both of you must call me Miss Lydia. Y’all will make me feel old with all that ma’am business.”

Joe and Hoss nodded. “Where would you like us to get started… Miss Lydia.” Hoss began to look around at the yard and dilapidated buildings.

“Oh,” Miss Lydia frowned for the first time, looking around. “It is a mess isn’t it? Where do you think would be best?” She looked hopefully to Hoss.

Hoss took stock of everything with his eyes. “Well, I reckon we’d better start on the roof.” He nodded toward the house. “We wouldn’t want you to get all wet with the first rain.”

“Yes,” Miss Lydia clapped her hands together. “I’ll go start some cookies bakin’ an’ you two can start on the roof. I got all the supplies you said we would need in the barn, Hoss.” She pointed toward the small once red barn. “If you need anything else just give me a holler.” With that she bounced back toward her house.

Joe shed his jacket and began to roll up his sleeves. “She’s adorable.”

“Ain’t she?” Hoss watched the woman pause near the kitchen door and glance back at them. Her eyes locked briefly on Joe and her smile broadened a little.

“I think she’s takin’ a fancy to you, Little Joe.” Hoss looked at his brother.

“She must have been a real heartbreaker when she was younger. Was she ever married?”

Hoss shrugged, “I never asked her. Didn’t seem like the thing to ask an older woman. I mean, her husband might have just died or somethin’”

Joe nodded, “Well, let’s get a look at what we’ve got in the barn.” He walked toward the barn with Hoss on his heels.

Miss Lydia hummed as she began to take ingredients out of her cupboards. She had only started unpacking two days ago but everything was already in perfect order from the cups and plates to her collection of spices.

She passed by the little window and saw Joe and Hoss coming out of the barn carrying supplies. She paused her humming and smiled gently.

He was so like Jackson. Dark hair and those eyes… eyes she used to lose herself in. She shook her head trying to get the hurtful images out of her head. Gradually, Jackson’s face faded and was replaced with Joe’s.

“Joe,” She smiled and looked back out her window. They were out of sight, but Joe’s face was still before her eyes. Yes, he would work perfectly.

————————————

4

Joe wiped his forearm across his eyes before reaching for one of the nails he held between his lips. “Hey, Hoss,” He called down to his brother who was chopping up a good supply of wood, “Will you bring me up some more nails?” He spoke through the nails already in his mouth. He threw the leather pouch that had once been filled with nails down to his brother.

Hoss swung the axe down, easily splitting the chunk of wood then buried the axe head into an uncut log. “Be right back.”

Joe watched his brother’s broad back as he ambled toward the barn. Once he had disappeared inside, Joe took one of the remaining nails from his mouth and pounded it into its new home. He glanced back at the barn before repeating the process with his last nail.

Sitting back down on the roof, Joe waited for Hoss to return, a bored look crossing his face.

Hoss exited the barn at about the same time as Miss Lydia walked out of the house holding a plate of still warm cookies in one hand and a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade in the other. “You boys have been workin’ too hard.” She craned her neck to locate Joe. “Come on down, Joe and I’ll get some glasses.” She placed the plate and the pitcher on an overturned empty barrel and returned to her kitchen where she already had three tall glasses laid out.

Hoss dropped the bag of nails by the barrel and smiled contentedly as he breathed in the scent of fresh cookies.

Joe walked gingerly to the edge of the roof and crouched down. Grabbing the edge, he swung down easily and crossed over to the barrel.

Miss Lydia came back holding the three glasses in her hands and smiling happily. “Go ahead, Hoss, and dig in.”

“Thank you Ma’am,” He reached for the plate.

“No, Hoss.” Miss Lydia frowned and Hoss’ hand hovered over the cookies. “Only those who remember to call me Miss Lydia can eat cookies.” She laughed gently at Hoss’ expression.

“Miss Lydia, May I have one?” Joe grinned.

“Have as many as you want, Joe.” Miss Lydia watched Hoss’ cheeks turn a shade pinker.

“Miss Lydia,” Hoss watched his little brother bite into his cookie, “May I have a cookie?”

Miss Lydia laughed merrily. “You may, Hoss.” She handed each of her helpers a glass and filled it with the lemonade. “I wish I had been blessed with children.” Her smile grew a little melancholy.

“Were you ever married, Miss Lydia?” Joe asked between mouthfuls of cookie.

“No,” Miss Lydia stared down into her glass. “Almost, but, no.”  She looked up and tried to re-fix the smile onto her face. “If I had been given children I would hope that they would have turned out as nicely as you two. I can’t tell you how much your kindness has meant to me.”

“It’s our pleasure, Miss Lydia.” Joe accepted the blue-checked napkin that Miss Lydia pulled from the large pocket on the front of her white apron.

She reached into the pocket again and extracted a matching napkin. Handing it to Hoss she said, “Ya gotta eat more, Hoss. I made extra just for you. I know how much food a man like you can consume.” She laughed softly. “I knew a young man every bit as big as you who I swore could eat a whole cow.”

“Sounds just like you, Hoss” Joe gave his brother a wink. “Only I think you might need one and a half cows to satisfy you.”

“Where is this feller?” Hoss sighed, “I’d like to ask him if he has a brother as ornery as mine.”

“He… he’s dead.” All smiles disappeared quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Hoss nearly stumbled over his words.

“He was found in a farmer’s field one spring day.” She looked up and squinted at the sun overhead. “His throat had been slit.”

Both Hoss and Joe found themselves swallowing involuntarily.

“They never found his murderer.” Miss Lydia sighed and took a sip of her drink. “I had to leave the town. There was just too many memories.” She turned her back to the brothers and composed herself. “I’m sorry I burdened you with my troubles.”

Both Hoss and Joe looked at each other not knowing what to say.

“Please, finish all the cookies and then you should probably go home. You’ve worked quite enough for one day.” She turned back and gave a sad little smile before continuing toward her kitchen.

“Poor lady,” Hoss shook his head. “Can you imagine what it’d be like to loose a friend in such a terrible and senseless way?”

Joe looked up with sad eyes, “Yes, I can.” He bent over and picked up the bag of nails. “You reckon she’d like me to finish up that section of roof before we go?”

Hoss looked toward the house. “She looked pretty upset.” He looked over to the pile of wood he had chopped laying in the yard begging to be stacked. “Maybe we’ll just come back first thing tomorrow.”

Joe nodded. “I’ll gather up the tools. You start saddling the horses.”

Hoss scooped up the last cookies on the plate and headed for the barn. “Tell her we’ll be back in the morning.”

“How long do you think it will take us to get this place in order?” Joe climbed the old ladder up to the roof to retrieve his hammer.

Hoss’ gaze swept around the yard. “Well,” he swallowed the last bit of cookie. “It depends on how often Pa’ll let us come out.”

Joe climbed back down the ladder and tossed the hammer into the wooden tool box then, pulling down the ladder and holding it in one hand, he grabbed the tool box handle and headed for the barn.

After he got everything put back in its place, Joe headed for the house. Rapping lightly on the door, Joe poked his head inside. “Miss Lydia?”

The lady shuffled out of the bedroom. “Yes, Joe?”

“We’ll be heading out shortly and I just wanted you to know that we intend on coming back tomorrow to pick up where we left off.”

“Bless you boys,” she clasped her hands together and smiled. “You are just to kind. Your father must be very proud.”

She watched them ride out through her kitchen window until they disappeared.

Humming softly, Miss Lydia took an old rag and again scrubbed her little table. Then remembering the dishes outside she went and retrieved them, quickly washing, drying, and putting them back in their proper place.

She looked around her kitchen and smiled. It was spotless and perfectly arranged. Sighing happily she picked up her knitting and sat down in her rocker in the corner of the room. She began a slow rocking motion with her body as her feet didn’t touch the floor.

“Joe,” she whispered aloud. “Joseph Cartwright.” A slow smile warmed her face as her knitting needles started to gain speed.

——————————

5

“How did it go today, boys?” Ben lowered himself into the chair by the fireplace letting its warmth seep into his tired body.

“She really is sweet, Pa.” Joe sat down next to Hoss an the settee and started to put his feet up on the coffee table until a glare from his Pa caused him to slip his feet back onto the floor. “The place is really a mess.” Joe leaned back. “It’ll take us a lot of work to get it into shape.”

Hoss nodded his agreement.

Ben turned to his eldest who was reading a thick book in his blue chair. “What do you think, Adam? Can we spare your brothers this week?”

Adam lowered his book and looked between his brothers. “They were never much help anyway, especially the little one.” He raised his book back over his face to hide his grin.

“Hey!” Joe pretended to be hurt. “It’s not my fault I’m small. Hoss always eats all the food.”

“I do not,” Hoss frowned across the space between him and his brother.

“Oh, yah?” Joe poked a finger at Hoss. “How many cookies did you eat at Miss Lydia’s?”

Hoss hesitated trying to remember. “Dadburnit, Joe, how am I supposed to remember.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you brother. You ate six. Six cookies in a matter of minuets. You know how many that left me?” He waited for Hoss to answer. When he didn’t Joe filled in the answer. “One! One little cookie.” He turned to his Pa who had an amused look on his face. “And older brother wonders why I’m so small.” He shook his head and let his smile break through.

Adam lowered his book to roll his eyes then raised the volume back to cover his face.

Ben leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “So, boys, it looks like we can spare you and your antics for the next few days.”

“Thanks, Pa.” Hoss smiled and thought of that sweet little lady. He was glad they were able to help her out.

————————————-

6

“Any mail for us, Nathan?” Joe asked the tall man behind the counter.

Nathan pulled out a single letter. “It’s from you know who.” He smiled as Joe sighed and accepted the letter.

“Amy?” Joe turned the letter over in his hand to read the sending address.

Nathan nodded his head. “She must be head over heels for you, or plum loco, sending all those letters with you hardly returning a one.”

Joe gave Nathan a hard look. “Aren’t you just suppose to hand out the mail and not pry into everyone’s lives?”

Nathan chuckled and bent down until his elbows came in contact with the counter in front of him. “The job would be awful boring if I didn’t get to guess on everything that is said in the letters that pass through my hands. It’s not like I read the letters. I just guess on what they mean.”

Joe rolled his eyes and tucked the letter into his coat.

“And since only ten letters came in on the stage and all of them but two were for the banker, you know Mr. Davidson don’t you?” Nathan continued without an answer. “The other letter was for one of the girls at the Bucket of Blood, no doubt form some lover or something. Your letter, being from the Sampson’s Ranch in Left Ridge, is by far the most interesting to ponder over.” Nathan stood back up to his full height. “I’m suspecting that you’re Miss Amy is much more attached to you than you are to her and that she’s probably trying to get you to marry her.” He smiled, “Am I right?”

Joe blinked a couple of times than turned to walk away. “I think I’ll send Hoss in for the mail next time.”

“Oh, come on, Joe,” Nathan pleaded. “Just give me a hint. You don’t know what it’s like having to stand back here all day and give out all them letters and never get one yourself.”

“Good bye, Nathan,” Joe raised a hand in a wave without turning around.

The bright afternoon sun welcomed Joe as he stepped out onto the street. He breathed deeply and crinkled his nose at the dust tossed at him from a passing wagon.

“Mornin’ Joe,” Sheriff Coffee called from across the street. He looked both ways before jogging across. “How’s your Pa?”

“He’s fine, Roy,” Joe grinned. “We haven’t seen you out at the Ponderosa in some time. Hop Sing’s beginning to think that you don’t like his cooking.”

“Is that an invitation?” Roy walked alongside Joe.

“Sure,” Joe tipped his hat to a pretty girl as she walked by on the other side of the boardwalk. “You know you’re always welcome.”

Roy nodded. “So what brings you and Hoss to town today? I saw him down at the hardware store.”

“We’re picking up some supplies to bring over to Miss Lydia’s place.”

“You two sure have been a big help to her. She stopped me just yesterday and was just singing your praises.” Roy dipped his head. “She seems like a mighty nice woman.”

Joe raised an eyebrow and looked over at the sheriff. “She’s a very nice woman. Hoss says she’s just about as sweet as an angel. You like her, Roy?”

Roy’s head came up, “She’s only been in town less than a week, Joe.” He stammered, “I just said she was nice.”

Joe nodded, “Mighty nice.”

Roy gave Joe a glare, “I’ve got a town to look after.” He turned to walk away. “You stay out of trouble, ya here?’

“Yes, sir” Joe chuckled and waved to the retreating sheriff.

Hoss had all the supplies loaded up on the wagon when Joe got there.

“I thought you’d show up when all the work was done.” Hoss grunted as he climbed up and gathered the reins.

“I picked up a letter and talked with Roy.” Joe tried to explain his lateness without mentioning the quick stop in the saloon for a beer.

“Who’s the letter for?” Hoss waited for Joe to seat himself before pulling back the brake and urging the horses forward.

“Me.” Joe leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“From Amy?” Hoss glanced at his brother.

“Mmmhmm,”

“Poor girl,” Hoss sighed. “Why don’t you just tell her you’re not interested so she’ll stop mooning over you?”

“Easier said than done.” Joe frowned pulling out the letter and opened it. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he began to read. A frown slowly crept down his forehead and fitted itself around his eyes.

Hoss glanced away from the road every now and then to try to read Joe’s features. “Well?” He finally asked.

Joe ran a hand through his hair and lowered the letter. “It seems Amy and her father will be arriving on the Left Ridge stage tomorrow and…” Joe pulled another folded letter from the envelope with Ben Cartwright scrawled across it. “I’m supposed to give this to Pa. No doubt, Pa’ll invite them out to the Ponderosa.”

“It’ll be a perfect opportunity to tell her that…” Hoss frowned. “How do you go about tellin’ a girl you don’t love her without breaking her heart?”

Joe returned both letters to the envelope and shrugged. “I’ll think of something. Maybe she’ll just take the hint.”

Hoss sighed. “You will be careful, won’t you, Joe? Amy’s a sweet girl. I’d hate to see her hurt.”

“Well I don’t exactly want to make her cry, or hit me either.” Joe roughly shoved the envelope back into his jacket pocket.

All frowns melted off the boys’ faces as they rounded the bend and saw Miss Lydia standing on a stool and trying to reach her laundry line and the clothes that hung off it.

Hoss pulled the horses to a stop and jumped down. “Can I help you with that, Miss Lydia?”

A smile spread across her weathered face. “Why thank you, Hoss. I think I need a shorter line or a taller stool.” She stepped down off her stool and stood aside while Hoss and Joe took down the laundry.

“You boy’s really are a Godsend.” She put the laundry in a basket. “This place already looks a thousand times better than it did when I first got here. Are you sure your Pa don’t mind you comin’ over here so much?”

“I think he and Adam are enjoying the peace and quiet.” Joe chuckled as he grabbed the last of the laundry and handed it to Miss Lydia.

Miss Lydia headed for the house. “I’ve got a pie baking for when you are ready for a break.”

Hoss smacked his lips, “Ya hear that, Joe?” He closed his eyes and imagined a hefty slice of hot, steamy pie being placed in front of him. “I bet it’s apple pie.” He opened his bright eyes and looked to where Joe stood grinning at him.

“Maybe that’s why you’re not married.” Joe smirked at the confused look that crossed his brother’s face. “I’ve never seen you look that way over a girl before… unless she had a pie in her hand.”

“Now, Joe, that ain’t true,” Hoss started to unload the supplies from the wagon. “Now stop wasting time and earn your piece of pie.”

———————————-

7

Joe and Hoss stood on the boardwalk watching as the stage from Left Ridge drew closer accompanied by a cloud of dust. The stage driver, Jim, pulled back the reins and stopped the horses right in front of where Joe and Hoss stood with a handful of other people who were waiting for the stage to arrive.

Joe’s prediction had been right and the letter Craig Sampson had sent to Ben had hinted that perhaps he and his daughter could stay at the Ponderosa while they were in town. Ben had, of course, sent Joe and Hoss to meet the stage and insist that the Sampsons come and stay with them, after all, first Joe then Hoss had been treated with great hospitality when they had been in Left Ridge.

Jim began to untie the bags from atop the stage and spit a stream of tobacco from his mouth just before the door opened and Miss Amy Sampson nearly fell out.

“Joe!” She squealed, the biggest smile lighting her face.

“Amy,” Joe said with slightly less enthusiasm. He stepped forward to help Amy down and found her arms encircling around his neck. He lowered her until her feet came in contact with the ground and still the arms did not relinquish their grip. Her face remained buried in his chest.

“Hello, Joseph,” Amy’s father jumped down from the stage and rubbed his back. “Hoss,” he extended his hand, “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, sir,” Hoss’ eyes kept darting back to his brother who was trying to detangle himself from Amy. People were beginning to stare.

The other people exited the stage and manoeuvred around the two young people. One older lady looked disgustedly at Joe who blushed under her gaze.

Amy finally pulled back and grinned at Joe. “It’s so wonderful to be here.” Her light brown eyes shown. She was a pretty girl. Her brown hair was thick and shiny and held a tint of red in its waves. She was just the perfect height to rest her head on Joe’s chest and she had taken advantage of that on more than one occasion.

Amy threaded her arm through Joe’s and smiled at her Pa who smiled back at his only daughter.

“Hoss was just telling me, dear, that Ben Cartwright has invited us out to the Ponderosa to stay while we are here.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful, isn’t it, Joe?” She looked up at Joe and blinked her big eyes slowly.

“Wonderful,” Joe managed a charming smile and patted Amy’s hand. “Hoss,” Joe turned to his brother,” You take the Sampsons out to the ranch and get them settled in. I have to stop by Miss Lydia’s house.”

Hoss frowned. “What for?”

“I just need to check on her,” Joe answered lamely. He looked down at the girl on his arm and almost laughed at the jealous look he found in her eyes. He pulled his arm away from her and headed for his horse. “I’ll be back before supper.”

Hoss looked at Amy and nodded, “Okay, little brother.” Poor Amy. Hoss determined to try to be kind to her.

————————————–

8

“Why, Joe, I thought you and Hoss weren’t comin’ over today.” Miss Lydia was kneeling in the little patch of ground Hoss had readied for her garden.

“Well,” Joe dismounted and smiled. “I thought I could finish up that chicken coop so you could get started on that flock you wanted.”

Miss Lydia stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “What would I do without you and your brother?”

“We’re glad to help.” Joe assured her.

“I must meet your father one of these days and tell him what fine sons he has.” She reached up and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. “But he probably already knows that.”

“Are the supplies still in the barn?” He asked already knowing the answer.

“They are,” Miss Lydia knelt back down in what she was transforming into her garden. “Thank you.” She called as Joe headed for the barn.

Joe whistled a tune he had often heard plunked out on the tinny piano in the Bucket of Blood as he began to work.

The time went fast as Joe’s mind concentrated on what he was doing and forgot all else.

Miss Lydia continued in her garden listening to the sounds Joe made as he worked and enjoying the bright sun that cast its warm down to wrap around her old bones. Joe whistling stopped abruptly and she heard him mutter something. Looking up she watched him round the side of the house.

His face held a measure of embarrassment but Miss Lydia didn’t notice. Her eyes were glued to the way Joe had his left hand rapped around his right. A bit of red was beginning to seep out between his clasped hands.

“Do you have any bandages or rags that I can wrap this in?” Joe asked sheepishly.

“You’re bleeding.” Miss Lydia whispered.

“Yes, ma’am.”

By the strange look that crossed Miss Lydia’s face Joe thought briefly that she was going to be squeamish, but then she came toward him wiping her hands on her apron. “Just let me wash my hands and I’ll fix you up.” She waved for Joe to follow her into the house and he did. “Sit there.” She ordered pointing to a chair as she passed through the kitchen on the way to her room.

Joe sat down and slowly pulled back his left hand to reveal a deep gash across the palm of his hand. Blood swelled and spilled down over his wrist. He quickly covered it again and pressed down again crinkling his nose against the stinging.

“How did you cut yourself?” Miss Lydia re-entered the room with a small box and a white hand towel draped over her arm.

“Caught it on some wire.” Joe gave half a smile.

Miss Lydia set the things on the table and went to where a bucket of water sat near a basin on the counter. After quickly washing her hands she poured some of the water into a bowl she retrieved from the cupboard. Placing that on the table next to the other things she had gathered she reached for Joe’s hand which he relinquished his own hold on. With a quick, easy motion the spotless white towel was wiping away the blood.

Joe frowned, “I don’t think that towel will ever be perfectly white again”

Miss Lydia chuckled. “This is what it was made for.” She cut a section of bandage and dipped it in the water then used it to clean the excess blood. Pulling out some ointment from her box of medical supplies she glanced briefly into Joe’s eyes which were following her every move. “This may sting a little.”

Joe nodded and bit the inside of his lip as she liberally applied the ointment causing even more stinging. He shifted his feet under the table.  “You’ve done this before,” Joe watched her deftly wrap his hand.

A smile played about her lips, “I’ve fixed up my share of injuries over the years.”

Joe was given his hand back and he turned it over surveying the bandage. “Thank you, Miss Lydia.” He smiled and pushed away from the table. “I’ll get that coop finished.”

“There’s no need for that, Joe,” Miss Lydia flapped her hands. “You can come back once your hand has a proper chance to heal.”

“You’ve wrapped it up so well I won’t notice.” Joe winked, “I won’t be another hour.” He turned to go before she could protest.

———————————-

9

Miss Lydia watched Joe’s back as he headed back out until he turned the corner and she could see him no more. Miss Lydia looked down to the towel in her hands. She gently stroked the red blotches that marred the once white towel. Some of the blood wiped off onto her fingers. She stared at it. Blood. His blood. Joe’s blood.

She balled up her fist and slowly opened it. It was real. It was there. Unlike the dreams where the blood disappeared before she could fully enjoy it.

She raised her fingers toward her face, looking closely at how it was already drying in the cracks and wrinkles of her aged hands. She could smell it. She could almost taste it. Yes, it was real.

She tore her gaze away from her hand and let it rest again on the stained towel. It wasn’t enough. She needed more.

Taking the towel in both hands again she laid it out flat on the table smoothed out all the wrinkles. The edges of the red were already turning a rusty brown as she precisely folded it back into its perfect rectangle.

Gently lifting it, nearly cradling it, she carried it back toward her room. She closed the door with her foot then turned the key in the lock. Moving over to the single window she made sure the curtain was tightly in place. She could hear Joe whistling not ten yards away from where she stood.

Quietly she crossed over to the far corner of her room. There sat a narrow trunk sealed tightly and locked. Miss Lydia pulled the thin silver chain that hand hung about her neck for many years up from her bosom. On the end dangled a tarnished heart shaped locket next to a key which she inserted into the lock on the trunk.

Most people would have wrinkled there nose at the smell that rushed out of the trunk, but Miss Lydia breathed deeply and slowly smiled.

At a first glance, no one would have guessed what it was they were looking at nestled in white towels at the bottom of the little trunk. Jars. Small jars. They were ordinary canning jars, sealed and filled with a dark red something. Your mind would tell you it was perhaps cherry preserves or strawberry jelly. Nothing sinister. Not in the house of this sweet woman. Not carefully canned by her small hands.

A second glance would pucker an uninformed person’s brow. Some of the white towels that swathed the jars had rusty splotches on them. The labels pasted onto the sides of each jar had a name on it above a date. The name of a man. None of the jars were completely full. One was less than half full.

Miss Lydia ran a finger across the tops of her jars. She didn’t really need the labels anymore. She knew the name and face that went with each jar. They were her trophies, her relics, her reminders of young men.

Twelve jars. Thirteen men. Neatly folded rust colored towels was the only marker she had of her first victim. Her Jackson.

Thirteen men. Young men. Thirteen women who would not have their hearts broken. Miss Lydia smiled softly and allowed her finger to trace the folded towel that had been thoroughly drenched in her lover’s blood.

Joe’s whistling broke through her thoughts. She wrapped his towel around an imaginary jar next to the one belonging to her last victim. She would need it again soon. Much sooner than normal. Thirteen was an unlucky number and Miss Lydia was superstitious. She needed fourteen.

——————————–

10

“Joe,” Amy stood from her seat on the settee before Joe could close the front door. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it back for supper.”

Hop Sing grunted as he laid out the last of his dishes on the table, “Suppah aleady cold.” He gave Joe a brief glare then shuffled back into his kitchen.

“It’s about time you show up young man.” Ben smiled as he descended the staircase. His eyes flicked between Amy’s adoring face and Joe’s unconvincing smile. We’ve got problems. He sighed as he headed for his spot at the head of the table. “Craig, Miss Amy, I believe these seats are yours.” He waited for Amy to come and pulled out her chair for her.

Amy smiled a thanks then turned her eyes back to Joe as he took the seat across from her.

Adam was the last to sit and the dance of passing the many dishes around the table without knocking over a wine glass or one of the candles began.

“What is it that brings you and your daughter to Virginia City?” Adam addressed his question to Mr. Sampson as he placed the dish of vegetables into Hoss’ waiting hands. He glanced between his youngest brother and Amy and almost added: Besides my brother.

“Amy’s been begging me to bring her out here to see the Ponderosa ever since Joe told her how beautiful it was.” All eyes shifted to Joe and he tried to concentrate on the vegetables Hoss had just passed him. “We were due for a little vacation. So I decided to come up and visit your family for a while then we’ll be heading to San Francisco for some society.”

Ben held the dish of vegetables that Joe had just handed him without dishing himself any while he asked, “You must attend the theatre while you are there, Craig. It really is very good.”

Adam nodded his agreement

“We were planning on it. Weren’t we, Amy?” He accepted the vegetables from Ben and took a heaping portion nearly as big as Hoss’ before passing it on to his daughter.

Amy took her eyes off Joe to serve herself some of the vegetables but quickly looked back up. “Do you like the theatre, Joe?”

Joe gave a little shrug, “Sure.”

“I wish you would come with us.” She lowered her head and looked through her dark lashes.

Joe swallowed and managed a smile. He could see Mr. Sampson watching him out of the corner of his eye. Unless he missed his guess, the Sampsons were intending to catch Amy a Cartwright and they had chosen him. “May I have some more vegetables?”

Amy looked down at the dish still in her hands and frowned. That wasn’t what she had wanted to hear.

—————————————

11

Moonlight tried to filter in through the curtained window. The music of a Nevada night tried to penetrate the wall and sneak in under the door. The lamp on the kitchen table cast its light in an eerie orb and threw shadows out that shuddered like leaves in the wind.

A rhythmic creaking from the rocker kept in time with Miss Lydia’s soft humming and the pulling of a blade across a stone.

Her bare feet, although they didn’t touch the floor, pivoted up and down at the ankle as she rocked back and forth in her chair. Her hands moved expertly and without visual aid as her eyes remained closed. Her mind played with a pair of eyes. Beautiful, passionate, sparkling eyes. Hazel green eyes. Joe’s eyes- or were they Jackson’s eyes? A slight frown added more wrinkles to her brow.

The eyes smiled at her and she knew they were Jackson’s. Her Jackson’s. A pang stabbed at her breast.

Why? Why was love so painful?

The rest of his body appeared and he stood there smiling down at her. So handsome.

He had been younger than her by five years and she had been in her thirties, quite the old maid, when they had first met. He had loved her with a burning passion. Never before had she felt so beautiful!

She had given him everything.

Miss Lydia’s eyes opened and she looked down at the blade in her hand. Her eyes reflected back at her. Her hand tightened around the handle as she remembered lashing out with it.

She hadn’t meant to at first. He had promised to marry her, to save her from her from her spinsterhood… to love her. But he had come to her that day telling how he had found someone new- someone younger. He didn’t love her.

She had watched in horror as blood spilled out over her floors. His mouth had been parted in a cry that had been drowned in his own blood. But the more she had looked at him lying there on her floor, the more she hated him.

Even now as night fell all around her she could still see herself scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees until the wood began to splinter and her hands had shrivelled and grown raw. Still it had seemed as if there was blood on the floor. Blood under her fingernails. Blood everywhere. She had picked up the wads of towels she had used to start cleaning the mess and prepared to burn them when she heard horse’s hooves drawing closer.

She had hastily shoved the towels in a trunk and dumped to bloody water out the back door. And just in time- it was the town’s sheriff come to tell her that they had found her Jackson’s body in a farmer’s field. She hadn’t needed to be told. She had dumped him there.

She had clung to the sheriff and cried until she thought her heart would break. But not for Jackson. No, never again would she cry for him. It was for herself and every other woman who would lose her heart to a handsome young man that her tears fell.

Miss Lydia closed her eyes again and the laughing eyes appeared again. Only they were different somehow. This time they were Joe’s. “Never again, Jackson,” she whispered. “Never again will you break another heart.”

————————————-

12

Joe excused himself out to the barn on some excuse about needing to finish some chores. His family all recognized it as an attempt to get away from the smiles and fluttering eyes of an adoring Amy.

Adam had hid his grin behind his book as Joe had stumbled over his words while he backed up toward the door. How many times had he warned Joe that if he acted interested a girl would chase him right down the aisle?

Joe tidied up the barn which had been cleaned recently and started to visit each of the horses. He stroked Buck’s neck and smiled, “You take good care of my Pa. Make sure he always gets wherever he’s going safe.”

In the next stall Sport whinnied and tossed his head. Joe patted Buck once more and moved to stroke Adam’s horse. “Hey, fella,” He watched the horse toss its big head around and waited for him to settle down. “The same goes for you.” He wrapped a hand around Sport’s long face and pulled the horse’s head down to his own eye level. “You watch over big brother, Adam.”

Chub waited patiently in his stall and watched with big dark eyes as Joe advanced his way. “Poor, fella,” He chuckled. “You sure do carry quite a load don’t you?” Chub  calmly stood as Joe patted the side of his neck.

A snort and a stomp called Joe’s attention to Cochise who waited impatiently for her master. “Are you jealous, my girl?” Joe chuckled and moved to Cooch’s stall. The horse immediately pressed her head up against Joe shoulder and Joe nearly stumbled backward. “Easy, girl,” He smiled and rested his head against Cooch’s. “I’m here. You’re my best girl. You know that don’t you?”

The horse seemed to sigh and pulled her head back to look at Joe with big trusting eyes.

“You going to sleep out here tonight?” Ben asked from the doorway of the barn.

Joe looked at his Pa then turned back to his horse. “I could. I’ve done it before.”

“I know you have,” Ben smiled gently and shut the door behind him as he walked toward his son. “Who do you think covered you up with those blankets?”

Joe’s smile widened. “I always knew it was you.”

“And I always knew that you never intended to fall asleep out in the barn.” Ben leaned against one of the barn’s support beams and crossed his arms. “Normally you would come out here to hide from something and I’d find you curled up in the hay or leaning against the side of Cochise’s stall.” Ben watched his son, “Not much has changed since then. Except this time you’re running from a girl.” A smile played at his lips. “I never thought I would live to see the day when you ran from a girl’s attention.”

Joe shrugged but didn’t look at his father.

“You aren’t going to keep secrets from me again?” Ben said almost sternly.

Joe shook his head. He knew how much trouble could come from keeping secrets. With a sigh Joe turned to his Pa. “She wants me to marry her.”

Something tugged at the corners of Ben’s mouth.

“It ain’t funny,” Joe groaned. “I might have flirted a bit when I was with her and her Pa that one week but it was only a week. How was I to know she would take it so seriously?”

Ben chuckled at his seemingly flustered son. “I warned you…”

“I know. Don’t lead a girl along.” Joe threw a hand in the air and Cochise tossed her head in protest to his movement. “I know better now,” he looked in the general direction of the house. “But what do I do about her? She really is a nice girl, Pa, I just don’t love her.”

“Her father seems quite set on your marrying her. He hinted at it in his letter and ever since they arrived. You’re going to have to let them know your intension before this goes any further.”

“I will. Tomorrow.” Joe promised.

“Our guests have gone to bed if you want to sleep in the house tonight.” Ben grinned and headed for the door.

“Thanks, Pa.”

——————————–

13

Joe took a deep breath and stretched as the holds of sleep began to drift away. He kept his eyes closed and went to snuggle in deeper under his covers. Only his back was against something hard. Joe’s eyes opened and he found himself staring into Cochise’s long face.

Looking down Joe saw the blanket covering him and a smile spread over his face. Slowly he began to stretch the sore muscles. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep out here especially after talking to his Pa.

Joe heard the barn door creak open, listened to someone enter then pause. In the early morning light it was nearly impossible to see who it was. “Is someone there?”

It was Adam’s voice and in the dim light Joe could see his brother’s form tense as he readied himself for anything.

Joe considered briefly playing a prank on his brother but his mind quickly conjured up images of all the possibilities of that idea going sour. “It’s just me, Adam.” Joe watched the shadowy figure relax and move toward his voice.

“What are you doing sleeping out here?” Adam’s eyes quickly took in the dishevelled look of his youngest brother. “Are you in trouble?” Adam’s gaze grew concerned.

“Nope, not this time.” Joe smiled and rubbed a hand across his eyes.

“Are you [i]going[/i] to be in trouble?” Adam narrowed his eyes.

“Not if Pa doesn’t find out.” Joe chuckled at Adam’s expression. “I’m just kidding.”

“Then I repeat,” Adam stood and frowned down at Joe. “What are you doing out here?”

“I fell asleep.” Joe shrugged and started to stand.

“I can see that.” Adam grunted.

Joe tried to smooth out his rumpled clothes, “I was out here thinking.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Adam snorted, “No wonder you were out all night.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Is anyone else up?”

“Maybe awake, but not up.” Adam led Sport from his stall. “What did you do to your hand?”

Joe stared unconcernedly down at the loosened bandage, “Caught it on some wire at Miss Lydia’s”

Adam nodded and moved to grab his saddle.

“Where are you headed?” Joe crossed over and stoked Sport while Adam saddled him.

“Some of us have work to do.” Adam said lightly as he hoisted the saddle onto Sport’s back. “I’ll be back before lunch if I head out now. I think you’ll probably be showing the Sampsons around the ranch. Amy…” Adam looked over his horse’s back to gauge his brother’s response. “has been asking for you to.”

Joe nodded slowly. At least it would provide him an opportunity to tell Amy what he needed to- even if he wasn’t looking forward to it.

“I think I heard her conspiring with Hop Sing to make it a picnic.” Adam let a small grin slip onto his face at Joe’s sigh. “You know what she’s after?”

“Yes,” Joe said annoyedly as he headed for the barn door.

“Just making sure.” Adam muttered as his brother disappeared from the barn. “I warned him, Sport.” Adam led his horse toward the doors, mounted, and rode off into the grey morning.

—————————-

14

Amy was beautiful and she knew it. What man wouldn’t want what she had to offer? Her hair was piled in ringlets atop her head with the exception of a single gentle lock that caressed the side of her face.

Her outfit was perfect. She had bought it just for this occasion, its fit accentuating her best features. Indeed all would admire her. She was confident as she strode down the stairs into the Ponderosa house’s great room.

Eyes turned upward to see her and appreciate her beauty. She flashed a smile that she had practised in the mirror, knowing that it made her shine. “Good morning gentlemen.” Amy crossed quickly to her place at the breakfast table.

“How did you sleep, Miss Amy?” Hoss placed the platter of eggs nearer to her.

“Simply wonderful.” She smiled again and checked out of the corner of her eye to see if Joe was watching. He was and that made her smile a little more genuine and triumphant.

Joe found his eyes wandering over the girl sitting across from him. He remembered why he had flirted around with her. Realizing that she was noticing his gaze and liking it he turned his eyes back to his plate.

“Ben,” Craig wiped his mouth with a corner of his napkin. “I’m anxious to view your corrals.”

Ben smiled, already guessing where this conversation was going. “I’m sure I can arrange that.” He glanced toward Joe who seemed to be staring intently at his flapjacks.

“Oh, but, Daddy,” Amy turned her big eyes to her father. “We were going to go out and see the ranch this morning.”

“Well, maybe you and Joe can go see the ranch and Ben can show me the corrals.”

Joe looked at his Pa who was trying not to smile. “We could postpone the tour until tomorrow.” Joe suggested.

“Nonsense,” Mr Sampson chuckled. “You two will doubtless have more fun without me tagging along anyway.”

“It’ll be fun, Joe.” Amy said softly looking up through her eyelashes to where Joe sat.

To Joe’s surprise, he managed a charming smile. “We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Amy pushed back her chair. “Let’s go!”

“But what about your breakfast?” Hoss looked at the food remaining to be eaten.

“I guess you get to eat it all,” Joe slapped his brother on the back and stood dropping his napkin onto his unfinished plate. “Think you can handle it?

“I sure will give it my best.” Hoss scraped the remnants of Joe’s plate onto his own.

“I knew I could count on you.” Joe followed Amy out the front door.

————————————

15

“Beautiful.” Amy said for what must have been the fiftieth time. “You must live in the most beautiful place in the world.” She pulled the horse she was riding to a stop and dismounted.

“We like to think so,” Joe looked out over the land. Their land. His home.

Amy watched as Joe dismounted. It was all she could do to not run to his arms right then. She fixed a smaller smile on her face than the large grin that bubbled from her inner depths.

Joe stood beside the girl for several silent moments before he too a deep breath, “Amy, I need to tell you something.”

Amy turned, her eyes sparkling. “You don’t have to say it, Joe, I know.”

“You do?”

“I felt it from the moment we first met. It was like it was meant to be.” She looped her arm through Joe’s.

“Amy, I think…”

Amy reached up and tapped his lips with two fingers. “Don’t say it, Joe. Don’t say anything” She leaned against him. “Just enjoy this moment.”

Joe dropped his head. “But, Amy…”

“Hop Sing packed us a lunch.” She stopped his words again. “Are you hungry?”

Joe sighed. There would be other chances. “A little.”

Amy reluctantly let go of Joe’s arm and went back to her horse. She stood there for a moment, “Did I give it to you?”

“The lunch?” Joe turned.

She nodded.

“No.”

“Then I guess I forgot it.” Amy’s cheeks turned a shade pinker. “I guess I was too excited.”

“We’re close to town.” Joe gathered up his reins. “Do you want to ride in and get lunch at a restaurant?”

Amy’s smile returned. “That sounds lovely.”

“Well then, let’s go.” Joe swung up onto Cochise’s back and waited for Amy to mount before leading the way toward Virginia City.

The streets of Virginia City were bare with the exception of two men loading a wagon down at the mercantile and a lone woman shuffling quickly down the street.

Joe turned in the saddle in time to see Amy jerk her eyes away from a saloon girl who had sashayed up to the swinging doors in her low-cut dress as they rode by. The noisy whoops, hollers, and laughter emanating from the place made Amy blush unknowingly.

Joe pointed toward Miss Daisy’s restaurant. “This is the place.” He dismounted and wrapped Cochise’s reins around the rail. Amy copied his actions and ran her hands down to smooth her clothes then reached up to quickly tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Joe led the way into the little café and waved at Miss Daisy who was pouring coffee into a patron’s cup. “Joe, you and your friend pick a table and I’ll be around in a second.” The ample woman fluttered her hand and nearly spilt the coffee.

“Thank you, Miss Daisy.” Joe pulled out a chair for Amy at a nearby table and took the seat across from her.

He searched his brain for a safe topic to discuss when a hand clapped on his shoulder. “Hey, Joe.”

Craning his neck around Joe saw his best friend, Mitch Devlin, standing above them with a cup of coffee nestled in one hand.

“Hey, Mitch,” Joe smiled. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“Not yet, Miss Daisy is…” Mitch noticed the girl sitting across from Joe. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss,” he swept the hat off his light hair. “I didn’t know I was intruding on your date.”

“It’s not a date.” Joe said lightly, missing the frown that crept across Amy’s face. “This is Amy Sampson. The Ponderosa does business with her father.” Turning to Amy, “This is Mitch Devlin.”

“Miss Amy,” Mitch gave her a charming smile and bowed slightly at the waist. “It’s a pleasure to make you acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Mr. Devlin.” Amy said politely.

“Do you want to join us?” Joe was surprised at his own words. Never before had invited one of his friends to join him when he had a pretty girl all to himself.

Mitch looked at Amy, who was doing a good job of hiding her disappointment. “I’d love to, thanks.” He pulled up a chair and sat down between Joe and Amy. He hung his hat on the back of his chair and set his cup of coffee in front of him. He slid a sly look in between his two table partners, trying to judge if Joe was interested in the beautiful young woman.

By the time Miss Daisy brought out their food, Mitch had decided that Miss Amy Sampson was fair game. With a happy smile, Mitch turned to Amy and picked up the slack in the conversation.

——————————-

16

The next day saw Mitch riding up to the Ponderosa ranch house.

Joe was carrying buckets from the well and dumping them in the water trough near the corral. “What brings you around here?”

Mitch swung down off his horse and played with the reins in his hands. “I was just riding by and thought I’d drop in.” He glanced to where Amy sat at the table on the front porch.

Joe followed his friend’s gaze and a slow smile crept across his face. Dumping his bucket Joe cleared his throat, “Come help me get another bucket.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow at his friend but followed him anyway.

Joe set his bucket by the well and dropped the bucket tied to the rope down the hole. “Are you…interested in Amy?”

Mitch’s mouth moved wordlessly then he shrugged.

“She’s fair game as far as I’m concerned.” Joe started to pull the bucket up and studied his friend out of the corner of his eye. “Why don’t you go talk to her? You know, friendly like.” Joe urged his friend. If Amy fell in love with his friend then she would fall out of love with him- right?

“You know, I might just do that,” Mitch winked, “friendly like.”

“Good luck.” Joe smiled and watched his friend saunter off toward the porch. A few more buckets into the trough and Joe would be done with his chores. He had received his Pa’s permission to go out to Miss Lydia’s after he finished.

Joe stole a glance at Mitch and Amy and saw Mitch talking while her eyes strayed away from him and towards Joe. Something he said must have caught her attention because she turned back to him with a smile playing across her pretty mouth.

Joe dumped the buckets into the trough and deemed it full enough.

He was sure Miss Lydia would be happy to see him and there wasn’t too much to get done before the house and yards were as good as new. Joe went through his mental checklist of all that still needed to be repaired or rebuilt.

Joe quickly saddled Cochise and led her out into the yard before swinging up onto her back. He gave Mitch and Amy a wave before prodding Cooch forward. A hasty glance over his shoulder showed him that his friend had Amy completely engrossed in conversation and Joe smiled at his good luck.

Joe rode on whistling a tune he often heard Adam singing accompanied by his eldest brother’s old guitar. The was a slight wind that blew the fresh scent of pine and mixed it with the smell of the wildflowers that grew in abundance on the side of the road leading to Miss Lydia’s.

Summer was beginning to slowly give away into fall. Here and there the first of the trees began to offer up a colourful leaf. Soon the land would be dotted with splashes of orange, tinges of red, and dashes of yellow.

It was Adam’s favourite time of year. Sometimes he would be gone for hours and Joe would spot him sitting up on a hill somewhere reading or staring out at the land that Pa swore had been painted with God’s finger.

Joe smiled when he saw the familiar horse tied out front of Miss Lydia’s house. Joe dismounted and wrapped Cooch’s reins around the post that Hoss had made the last time they were their together.

He gave Sheriff Coffee’s horse a light slap on the rump before heading for the front door. The door swung open before Joe had reached the porch.

“Joe,” Miss Lydia beckoned with both her hands. “Come in, come in. We have tea and cookies.” She stepped aside to let Joe in. Roy sat in on of the chairs at the table. Dainty teacups rested in their saucers next to a matching teapot. The cookies brought a sweet fragrance to the room.

“Roy,” Joe smiled mischievously at the sheriff.

Roy shifted in his chair. He had obviously not expected to be interrupted in his visit. “What brings you out here, Joe?”

“Had a free afternoon and thought I’d come and get those barn doors hanging again. Hoss should be out here soon to help me.” Joe accepted the chair Miss Lydia motioned to but waited for her to seat herself before sitting. “I don’t want to interrupt anything,” he glanced briefly at Roy.

“You ain’t interrupting anything.” Roy squirmed.

Miss Lydia smiled and covered the sheriff’s hand in hers. “The good sheriff stopped by to make sure everything was fine. Wasn’t that thoughtful, Joe?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe grinned, “Very thoughtful.” Roy shot him a glare while Miss Lydia wasn’t watching.

“Do you want some tea? It’s good and hot.”

“No thank you, Miss Lydia.” Joe stood. “I want to get started on those doors.”

“Of course you do,” Miss Lydia turned to Roy. “Hoss and Joe have been such a Godsend to me.” Her smile sweetened. “I don’t know what I would have done without them.”

“We haven’t done that much,” Joe said suddenly embarrassed.

“Yes, you have.” Miss Lydia seemed to be staring straight into Joe’s eyes. Her smile began to slip off her face. Then, with a blink, she forced the smile back onto her face. “You should take a cookie before you go.” She held out the plate.

Joe took a cookie and nodded his thanks, giving a sly wink to Roy before leaving.

Miss Lydia watched him leave then tried to turn her attention back to her visitor. But, try as she might, her mind kept wandering back to a pair of green eyes and, down from there, a soft throat that fascinated her nearly as much as the eyes.

————————-

17

Miss Lydia shuffled around her kitchen and began to tidy up the kitchen. She meticulously wiped up every crumb and washed every dish all the while humming happily to herself. Roy had left several hours ago and Joe had just stopped in to say that the barn was finished and he had to be heading home.

She had watched him ride away until he was out of sight. But truly, he never was out of her sight. Every dream she had, sleeping and waking, involved green eyes. Treacherous green eyes.

She had seen Joe in town with a beautiful young woman. A blind man could see she was in love with him, and yet Joe had been pushing her away. Not in a literal sense, but Miss Lydia could tell. He was going to break up with her, and break her heart in the process. Poor girl. Did not mothers warn their daughters to never trust a man?

Men could never be trusted. Never. They should pay for their deceitful ways, and pay dearly.

When she finished her cleaning she sank down in her rocker and wiggled back until her feet didn’t touch the floor she reached over to the little stand next to her chair and picked up her knitting needles with a long trail of already knitted rows trailing.

She began her humming again as the needles clicked together and more rows of perfectly neat stitches appeared. Occasionally the little woman would chuckle and lower her knitting to gaze up at the roof. There she would remain for several minuets until she finally raised her knitting again and began her rocking motion get her chair going her toes brushing inches from the floor. Eventually she rocked herself to sleep.

Joe was staring at her wide-eyed with a mixture of horror and shock on his face. “Miss Lydia, please put the knife down,” he pleaded with her.

Miss Lydia laughed from deep within her throat and ran her eye up and down Joe. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She laughed again as she stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Joe moved back away from the little woman.

“What does it look like?” Miss Lydia’s arm lashed out quick and accurate. Moments later she was staring down at her victim. The blood ran down his neck and onto the floor below. His eyes were closed unlike the last two she had killed who had died with the horrified look forever in their sightless eyes.

Miss Lydia knew she had work to do. She still had laundry to wash after all and now there was a body to dispose of and a floor to scrub clean. “Five more minutes” She whispered to herself. Five more minutes was all the time she would allow herself to revel in her latest victory. To watch the blood ribbon down the handsome neck. The young thought themselves invincible, but they weren’t. One stroke from her hand and…

Miss Lydia reached down to touch the small slit across the throat that she had administered. She couldn’t contain her longing to rub the blood between her fingers any longer…

Miss Lydia jerked awake nearly dropping her knitting needles. She breathed deeply raising a frail looking hand to her own throat. How come her dreams always had to end before she could reach far enough to touch the blood?

—————————-

18

Joe wasn’t entirely surprised to see Mitch’s horse stabled in one of the free stalls of the barn. Joe slapped the horse’s rump on his way by and whistled happily. His little scheme appeared to have worked beautifully.

As Joe exited the barn, having taken care of his horse, Hoss slowly ambled across the front yard his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I thought you were going to show up at Miss Lydia’s to help me.”

“I got waylaid,” Hoss rolled his eyes then changes the subject. “You see who’s stayin’ for supper?”

Joe nodded and took the hat off to scratch at the back of his head. “Wonder why he stuck around all day.” He winked at Hoss and continued toward the house.

“You’re a sneaky one, little brother.” Hoss followed Joe toward the house.

“Not sneaky, Hoss,” Joe tried to look hurt and offended but failed. “Just lucky, that’s all.”

Hoss grunted. “If I had half your luck maybe I could get Bessie Sue to go out with me again.” Joe stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “After what happened last time I don’t think she wants to see me again.”

Joe frowned at his brother’s downcast face. “It’s not like she has a line of suitors or anything.” Joe tried not to let the corners of his mouth twitch upward. Last time he had teased Hoss over Bessie Sue he had been given a public dunking in a Virginia City water trough. “Just what did happen last time?”

Hoss stopped his progress toward the house and the waiting dinner. “I got all tongue tied,” Hoss shrugged his broad shoulders, “And she thought I said more than I did… or somethin’.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m still not sure what happened. One second we were eating and the next she had that knife they put in the butter and was threatening to skin me with it.” He swallowed hard. “Alive.”

Joe’s eyebrows were raised just about as far as they could go. “And you want her back?”

Hoss nodded glumly.

Joe rolled his eyes and started walking again. “Apologize, call her baby a couple of times, and give her a kiss.” He reached the door. “And everything will work out fine… if going out with the woman who bullied Adam on her first day of school can be called fine.” Joe made his escape into the house and all heads turned as he scrambled through the door to the safety of company.

“Hey, Joe, look who’s joining us for dinner.” Ben clapped Mitch on the shoulder as he crossed toward the table and the feast that Hop Sing had prepared. “Hop Sing you really have outdone yourself this time.”

The little cook grunted and headed back for his kitchen before letting his smile of pleasure show.

“Looks like it might be all ready.” Ben stood behind his chair. “Let’s get started.”

Mitch held Amy’s chair and slid into the one next to her. She smiled and glanced at Joe out of the corner of her eye. He was looking at her. Good. Let him feel a little jealous. She gave Mitch a flirty grin.

Mitch glanced across the table to where Joe sank down in his chair with a dreamy look on his face that reminded Joe of Mitch’s first crush in school. He had been six years old at the time and had sworn his undying love. They had remained sweethearts until they were eight and Mitch had talked her in to marrying him. Joe had promised to be the best man and the group had snuck out at recess and made their way to where the preacher lived.

The preacher had turned them in to their parents.

That had been the last time Mitch had ever been engaged. He dabbled in girlfriends here and there but had never been very serious over most of them and had never gotten around to asking the question to the few that he had been more serious about.

Joe watched his friend toss Amy little smiles throughout dinner which she returned. Joe found himself frowning, to Amy’s delight, as he watched them. He hoped Amy wouldn’t hurt Mitch. If she could transfer her affections that quickly then maybe he should warn Mitch not to get too attached to her as she might fall for the next man who stepped off the stage and glanced in her direction.

“Joseph,” His Pa’s voice broke through Joe’s musings. “I believe Mr. Sampson has asked you several times for the potatoes.”

Joe looked at the platter of garlic potatoes set in front of him. “Sorry, I was…” Joe noticed Amy watching him although her head remained down toward her plate. “distracted.” Joe finished lamely passing the potatoes into Mr. Sampson’s waiting hands.

Craig smiled and glanced toward his daughter. She seemed to be cuddling up to this new young man awful fast. That hadn’t been in their plans at all. He had brought her all the way over here so she could chase after her Joseph she had been pining for all these months.

Now that they had come all this way and imposed on the Cartwright’s hospitality she was taking interest in this Mitchell Devlin. A handsome enough boy, but he wasn’t a Cartwright like he had always wanted. He wasn’t even sure if his family had property or if he was a drifting ranch hand.

Ben studied the company around his table as he mechanically lifted a forkful to his mouth. Hoss seemed to be ignoring most of the conversation and enjoying the meal as usual while Adam appeared to be splitting his studying between Joe, Mitch, and Amy. Joe looked as if her were worried about something. He kept discreetly glancing at Mitch and Amy as the couple chatted and Ben wondered if his youngest was changing his mind about the young woman.

Ben raised another forkful to his mouth. Oh, yes. We could have problems.  He shook his head slightly and raised his glass to his lips. Big problems.

———————————–

19

Joe was gone again, off to see that Miss Lydia. Amy had watched him ride out that morning. All her dreams were beginning to crumble. Her dreams of being the lady of the Ponderosa, of owning the heart of the most handsome man in the world, of being envied by every girl in the territory. Of course, that Mitch Devlin wasn’t to poor to look at. Amy looked at her reflection in her mirror. She was smiling.

Okay, so maybe Mitch was dashing and sweet. He wasn’t a Cartwright. That was what she had planned on. Wasn’t it? But he was nice. And, unless she was hearing things, he was here.

Amy practiced a shy smile in the mirror then straightened her skirts before going down to meet her suitor. Her dreams of being Mrs. Cartwright might be crumbling down about her feet but her new dreams, sparked by a moonlit conversation the night before, were rising to meet the skies.

What was this? She paused at the top of the staircase. She wanted Joe. Didn’t she? What was this foreign feeling? Why hadn’t she minded so much when Joe had left that morning?

“Is Amy here?” She heard Mitch’s voice hesitantly ask her father.

“Mitch,” Amy forgot her practiced smile and put on a genuine grin, “How nice of you to drop by.” Maybe her destiny had brought her here with other thoughts in mind.

——

“Joe!” Miss Lydia smiled as Joe dismounted.

“How are you this morning, Miss Lydia?” Joe returned the lady’s smile.

“Just fine. No, better than fine,” she grasped one of Joe’s hands in both of hers, “now that you’re here.”

“Always glad to help.” Joe assured her.

“I know you are, and I’m thankful for it.” She released Joe’s hand and tried to keep her eyes from straying to his throat. Every time they did she could see ribbons of beautiful red blood streaming down it and it was all she could to not reach out and run her fingers through it.

Soon. She assured herself. Soon.

——

“Where’s that youngest brother of yours spending all his time?” Craig Sampson walked beside Adam and Hoss through the streets of Virginia City as they headed to the bank to meet up with Ben.

“He and Hoss have been helping Miss Lydia fix up her place.” Adam answered.

“Miss Lydia is the elderly lady who got on the stage with me when I was leavin’ Left Ridge.” Hoss tipped his hat at a passing lady.

“Oh, yes,” Craig shook his head. “Poor woman.”

“Why do you say that?” Adam looked at the man walking next to him with curiosity.

“She left our town under some terrible circumstances.” The older man said sadly. “She was very close to a young man in our town, Walter was his name. Nice boy. Everyone liked him. He helped Miss Lydia around her house, repairs and such. She was like a mother to him.” The trio stopped walking just outside of the bank’s doors.

“What happened?” Hoss leaned against a hitching rail.

“A farmer found him in his field one morning with his throat slashed through.” Craig shook his head again. “They never found the one who did it. Not even a trace.”

Hoss’ brows drew together. “That was in Left Ridge?”

Craig nodded.

“What’s wrong, Hoss?” Adam frowned at the look on his brother’s face.

Hoss’ frown deepened as his mind raced through the story of a second young friend of Miss Lydia’s. Could it be a coincidence? Could a woman have this misfortune of having two different young men from different towns help her out only to have their throats slit and their bodies be found in a farmer’s field? It was possible, if you had an imagination. But not likely. “Joe’s in trouble.”

“What?” Ben joined the group. “What are you talking about, Hoss?”

“Pa, if I’m wrong I’ll be the happiest man alive. But if I’m right…” Hoss didn’t finish but started running to where they had left the horses.

Ben looked at Adam, “Adam?”

Adam didn’t answer. He had a bad feeling that Hoss believed Joe to be in great danger. There wasn’t time to rationalize. His brother needed him. He followed after Hoss.

“Craig, stay here or go back to the ranch.” Ben started after his sons. “We’ll be back once we sort all this out.”

Hoss was already on Chub’s back and spurring him toward his little brother and Miss Lydia, praying all the while that he was wrong.

He wasn’t.

————————————–

20

Joe squinted up at the sun and rolled his sleeves up onto his forearms. Everything was looking good. This fence was all there was left, and it wasn’t all that bad off. A few new rails here and there, a new post or two, some new nails, a little paint and he’d be done.

In a way, he was glad to see it all coming to a close. In another, he would miss riding out here and seeing the cute little woman several times a week. Not to mention getting to sample all her fine cookies and pies!

————

It was almost done. Miss Lydia looked out over her yard and the different buildings that occupied it. Soon Joe would have no work left. His visits would become sporadic and most likely he would always be accompanied by Hoss. Her chances at getting number fourteen would become slimmer.

She had to act today. Now. He was over by the barn now. The blood would doubtless be harder to clean out of the dirt and off of the fence should it splatter a little.

The little woman shrugged and pulled out her knife. Once again she tested the sharpness with the side of her thumb. It was ready. She was ready.

It was time.

————

Miss Lydia crossed the yard to where Joe was working. A long knife was held lightly in her hand as if she had been cutting up vegetables and had simply forgotten to put it down. Joe wouldn’t have even noticed it if the sun hadn’t glinted off of its sharp blade.

“Is something wrong?” Joe balanced the hammer along to top of one of the fence rails.

Miss Lydia didn’t answer. She simply smiled and drew closer. Joe raised an eyebrow briefly at the excited expression in Miss Lydia’s blue eyes.

“I have something for you, Joe,” She giggled out the words, her eyes scanning him from his tousled hair to the toes of his boots. She brought her gaze back to his eyes. She held his eyes with hers until she saw his eyebrows draw down into a frown.

“Jackson!” She screamed angrily, throwing herself forward with all her might and hurling her arm out in a slashing motion.

Joe’s reflexes were quick. But not quick enough.

———————————————–

21

Joe staggered backward until his back came in contact with the fence rail. He looked confusedly down at the red that began to soak his shirt running down toward his belt. His fingers reached up and covered the slash that followed just below his collarbone, starting out deeply but growing shallower at the end of its nearly five inch length.

Joe looked up and watched Miss Lydia draw out an already bloodstained towel from the wide pocket of her apron and wipe what blood was on the knife into its white folds.

She looked up and met Joe’s wide eyed gaze. “It ain’t enough,” she said coldly.

“Miss Lydia…” Joe’s breaths came faster. “Miss Lydia,” he held out a hand in a stopping gesture. He watched in horror as Miss Lydia’s gaze locked on Joe’s hand, more specifically on the blood that covered it and trickled down his wrist.

Her eyes snapped up to his throat and with a yell she charged forward, the deadly blade aimed at her objective.

Joe dove to the side and rolled to his feet, barely holding back a cry as pain tore through his shoulder and chest. He turned to see her coming at him again and found he had gone the wrong way. He was caught in the corner where the fence met the barn wall.

Out came Joe’s gun. The click of the hammer stopped Miss Lydia in her charge.

“Miss Lydia, listen to me. It’s me, Joe.” His breaths came in gulps. “Miss Lydia?”

Miss Lydia’s eyes wouldn’t leave Joe’s throat. She took a step, and another. Her knife raised. Her target sure.

“Miss Lydia, stop.” Joe pleaded, “Don’t make me…”

The woman lunged. The knife slashed out. Joe closed his eyes. The gun went off.

————————————–

22

Ben’s eyes swept over the scene before him in horror. Joe’s body leaned limply against the barn wall. Red blood drenched the front of his shirt. His head was lulled forward making it impossible to tell where all the blood was coming from.

Miss Lydia lay on her face in the dust several feet from Joe’ boots. A splotch adorned her back from where a single bullet had exited after shattering her chest and killing her nearly instantly. A blade was grasped in her dead hand. Her fist was still wrapped tightly around the handle.

Joe’s gun lay between the two fallen bodies.

Ben pulled Buck up to a stop and leapt from his back. “They’ve been attacked.” How could Hoss have known this?

“I don’t think so, Pa” Adam was already kneeling next to his brother.

“Joe?” Ben gently pulled his son’s head up. Blood slicked Joe’s skin from the chin down and, for a heart stopping moment, Ben thought his son was dead. His fingers quickly searched out and located a pulse while Hoss pressed a big bandana against the slash across Joe’s shoulder and chest.

Jo’s eye slowly blinked open. “Pa?”

“I’m here, Joe, easy now.”

“Did she attack you, Joe?” Hoss looked back at the body behind him.

Joe closed his eyes again. “I killed her, didn’t I?”

“Looks that way,” Adam gently touched his brother’s other shoulder.

“She went wild and came after me with a knife. Kept calling out for Jackson or something. I tried to stop her… I didn’t have a choice.” Joe’s voice was soft as he reached up to finger the bandana Hoss still had pressed against his wound. “I killed her.”

Ben could see the pain radiating from his son’s eyes.

“Why, Pa? What happened?”

“I don’t know, son. Maybe we never will.”

————

“Dead?” Roy stood slowly to his feet, his hands braced on his desk.

“She tried to kill Joe.” Adam looked into the older man’s eyes.

“I can’t believe that, Adam. Why would…”

“We suspect she’s killed two other men.” Hoss twisted his hat around by the brim. “At least.”

Adam filled him in briefly on what they knew. “I’m sorry, Roy.”

Roy took his hat from off the corner his desk and without another word headed to where his horse was stabled. As he passed the telegram office he slowed down. He should send out telegrams to fellow sheriffs. If Adam and Hoss were right then there could be a string of unsolved murders from here to wherever Lydia had come from in the first place. But that would have to wait. Right now Lydia was lying under a sheet at Doc Martin’s.

The old sheriff didn’t know what he was going to do when he got there, but for some reason he had to go.

———————————-

23

“Will you be back?” Mitch walked slowly next to Amy as they made their way toward the waiting stage.

“I… I don’t know.” Amy looked ahead to where the Cartwrights were helping her Pa load the luggage. Joe stood by, his arm resting quietly in a sling at Doc Martin’s insistence.

“I really hope you do,” Mitch allowed his fingers to brush against hers but didn’t try to take hold of her hand.

She didn’t answer.

“Can I write you?”

Amy looked at the young man next to her, “I would like that.” She allowed a smile to touch the corners of her mouth. “But,” she looked away, “I don’t want to rush things this time.” She stopped walking and looked down to where her fingers were intertwined. “I need to know if you really are serious about… us.”

Mitch swallowed and looked down at the beautiful young woman. Slowly he raised her chin with his finger and waited until her eyes met his. “I’m serious if you want me to be. If not, just tell me and I’ll back off.”

Amy smiled, slipped a piece of paper into Mitch’s hand, and walked toward the stage.

Mitch opened up the folded paper and a grin lit his eyes. Looking up, Mitch spotted Joe watching him and smiling. A wink passed between the two friends and it was all Mitch could do to hold in the whoop that bubbled up.

Amy whispered something to Joe before following her father into the coach. As soon as the door was closed she leaned out and waved back at Mitch, and she kept waving until the coach disappeared in a cloud of dust.

“What did Amy say to you?” Adam fell into step next to Joe.

Joe smiled softly, “She said, ‘I think I’ve found the reason I was put on this earth.’” Joe looked back to the settling dust and his friend who was still standing in the street, staring after a stagecoach that was long out of sight.

——————————-

24

It didn’t hurt that much. He had been hurt worse before and doubtless he would hurt more deeply in the future. It seemed to be his lot in life. Pain and hurt seemed to stalk after him. This time it wasn’t so much the physical pain but the hurt that stemmed from wounds doctors could never find nor fix.

He had trusted her. Liked her. Loved her. All her kind words and actions had hidden the fact that she had been waiting for the chance to kill him. Was there no one he could trust? Was there a killer hiding behind every smile?

He never could have dreamed that things would end the way they had. He had killed her.

Joe had never killed a woman before. He had never moved to hurt a woman. Now he had shot down an old lady, his friend. But had she ever been his friend? Had she just lost grip on sanity or had she planned to kill him from the moment they had met?

He would never know now. He had forever silenced the only voice who could have shed any light on these dark questions.

“Joe?” Adam poked his head into the room. “Supper’s on the table.”

“Go ahead and start.” Joe didn’t raise his eyes from the hand resting limply in his lap as he sat on the corner of his bed. “I’ll come down later.”

Adam pushed the door open further and came to stand in Joe’s room, “You won’t.”

“What?” Joe looked over at his brother.

“Come on, Joe. I haven’t known you this long to not know that you never want to eat when you’re upset.”

“I’m fine, Adam.”

“Sure you are,” Adam shook his head and moved to sit next to Joe on his bed. “I know better than that too.”

Joe gave a weak smile then let his gaze rest again on his hand. “Why…” He shook his head.

“Why what?” Adam watched the muscles play across Joe’s face as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

“It seems like wherever I go, or whatever I do there is somebody there who wants to hurt me.” Joe closed his eyes. “Is there no place in the world that is safe? No one I can trust? I just don’t understand. Does the world just hate me?”

“I don’t know all the answers, Joe. I don’t think anybody ever does.” He watched to see if his youngest brother was really listening. He was. “I can’t tell you that something like this will never happen again. I wish I could. But you can’t let it beat you. You can’t stop believing because one person betrayed your trust. You can’t stop living because someone wanted you dead. You can’t stop loving because it hurts when you are let down.” Adam reached out and rested his hand on Joe’s undamaged shoulder. “Don’t give up on people, Joe. We aren’t all bad.”

Joe turned his head to look into Adam’s eyes.

“And no matter what happens, as long as I’m alive there will always be someone you can turn to for help. The same goes for Hoss and Pa. We’re a family, Joe. We’ll make it through.”

Adam slapped Joe on the back and stood. “Now, how about you join us for dinner, and don’t give me any of that ‘I’m not hungry’ business.”

Joe smiled softly and stood. “Thanks, brother.”

Adam turned back at the door. “That’s what family’s for.” He grinned and led the way down to the dinner table.

————————————

EPILOGUE

Roy sighed as he loaded another crate onto the buckboard along with the other belongings of Miss Lydia James. The only living relative that they could locate had authorized them to clean out the house, giving away the small things and auctioning off the few valuable things she had owned. The relative, a Mr Jonathan James, would then donate part of the proceeds to Virginia City so he wouldn’t have to make the trip or handle anything himself.

The new owners of the small house and newly fixed up property were a young couple just starting out their lives together. They were both there along with Adam and Hoss to help Roy clean out the house. It wouldn’t be much longer and they would be finished. The house had been neat and sparse.

A fire burned away near the corner of the house. Devouring the items that no one would want and the leftovers of the work Joe and Hoss had been doing. It snapped and crackled, adding to the afternoon heat.

“We’re nearly done, Sheriff.” Evan Kline smiled enthusiastically at his new home. He noticed how the older man seemed not to share in his excitement. “Was the lady who lived here before really a killer?”

Roy Coffee looked at the newest member of his town. “It appears so. You’d never have guessed by lookin’ at her.” The sheriff shook his head, “I’ve been getting telegrams from other sheriffs in reply to my inquiries. Seems she left a line of unsolved murders in her wake. The count’s as high as eight right now.” Roy pushed the old rocker that sat in the back of the buckboard and watched it rock slightly. “We may never be sure how many, or know why. There’s no one left to tell the story.” Roy turned away from Evan, “Still seems hard to believe.”

“Hey, Roy,” Hoss exited the house cradling a large trunk easily in his large arms. “It’s locked up tight.” He set the trunk down on the back of the wagon.

Roy drew out the keys to his handcuffs and wiggled them around in the lock. Nothing happened. “Nobody came across any keys did they?” He directed his words to Adam and Mrs Kline who were just exiting the house.

Both shook their heads.

“What should I do with it?” Hoss tried to force it open.

Roy rubbed his moustache, “Toss it on the fire.” He jerked his head toward the burning pile. “No use keepin’ what you can’t open.”

Hoss obeyed with a shrug. The sound of tinkling glass made Hoss stop and frown at the trunk now sitting amongst the burning sticks and some of the old boards from the roof.

“Hoss, I could use a hand here.” Adam hollered from inside the house.

Hoss moved toward his brother’s call, promptly forgetting the trunk that slowly caught fire. The sound of breaking glass as the intense heat found the jars inside was missed by all ears.

Soon there was nothing left of the trunk and its contents save for the ashes that blew away in the Nevada wind.

THE END

 

End Notes:

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story and will let me know what you thought of it.

-BnzaGal-

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.