Summary: While visiting the Ponderosa, Adam’s oldest daughter unearths a treasure trove of detective books in the attic. When the family learns Adam has put a ban on them, the story of what inspired such an un-Adam-like rule is told.

Rating: PG
Word Count: 6292

Adam’s Little Women Series

Queen of the Dunes

Beth Cartwright, Detective

The (Almost) Grand Adventure

I Know What I’m Doing (I Think…)

Beth Cartwright, Detective

Visits to the Ponderosa did not happen often enough for Beth Cartwright’s liking. Rarer still were the times she got to play in Grandpa’s attic, digging in old trunks and finding untold treasures. Her favorite things were those that belonged to her papa and prompted him to tell stories about when he was a little boy. Grandpa always remembered bits that Papa tried to leave out, making him blush and clear his throat with embarrassment.

“Stop giving her ideas, Pa,” Adam would admonish his father. His eyes always sparkled as he spoke, belying the sternness of his words.

“This angelic granddaughter of mine? Get ideas?” Ben would retort, giving Beth a wide smile and a wink. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

Today, Beth managed to unearth a veritable mine’s worth of gold on discovering a crate full of books. The very kind Papa didn’t allow her to read! Gathering as many as she could, Beth squirreled them out of the attic and into the room that was hers when they visited Grandpa.

After quietly closing the door, Beth sat on the floor and spread them out after using her dress to wipe away the dust. They had been in the attic for quite some time, she realized, her bright eyes taking in the amount of grime and the way the pages had begun to yellow. With great reverence for the forbidden material, Beth opened a detective novel and began to read, letting the time slip away.

Mid-morning, the blessed silence of the house was broken as Joe burst in the front door, fishing poles in hand, calling, “Adam! Hey Adam!” The shouting was needless, given that Adam was enjoying a book in the blue chair.

“Shh,” Adam chided, waving his hand at Joe. “Alta will have both our heads if you wake Nora and the serenity of her bath is disturbed. She only went down half an hour ago.”

Chagrined, Joe put a hand to his mouth for a moment. When he spoke next, his voice was much softer. “Sorry. Are you ready to take Beth to our spot? Hoss is gonna meet us there.”

“If we can find her,” Adam replied with a smile. “I imagine she’s rummaging in the attic again. I’m not sure why she finds that so entertaining, but at least Pa doesn’t mind. He loves telling stories about your misbegotten youth at any rate.”

Joe’s eyes danced with laughter. “Just my misbegotten youth? Pa got a selective memory when it comes to you?”

“I was always the epitome of seriousness and responsibility,” Adam countered, his own eyes twinkling.

“I’ll find her,” Joe offered. “I bet you a beer Beth’s got her nose in a book, just like some Yankee granite head I know,” he teased.

Adam just rolled his eyes. “That, brother, is a bet I’d lose. Go find her while I make sure Pa will listen for the baby for a bit. And let Alta know we’re leaving.”

---

Beth had already been located by her grandfather a short time ago, with her head buried in the prohibited reading material. “What’s all this?” he asked, looking over the number of books she’d collected. “You’ve been in the attic again.” Ben smiled warmly at his granddaughter.

Beth’s head popped up from the page and she turned to Ben with wide eyes. “Don’t tell Papa. I want to read them all first.”

Her response made him laugh, despite himself. There was no harm in a few detective novels. Or so he hoped! Beth was no Joseph, after all. “It’ll be our secret. I remember this one,” he admitted. Ben sat on the bed and picked up a book by Inspector Foote.

Sensing a story, Beth reached for Ben with both arms. “Tell me Grandpa, please?”

The Cartwright patriarch surrendered to his granddaughter’s request, ignoring the dust from the attic as he settled her in his lap. “It was a splendid summer morning,” Ben began. “And it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Only then I went down to breakfast and saw your Uncle Joe with his head in that book by Inspector Foote…”

---

Joe found his father and niece upstairs, with Pa clearly engrossed in telling some tale that had Beth’s full attention. He leaned against the doorway to listen in and smiled indulgently, completely unnoticed. They were still there when Adam came searching for them, arriving just in time to hear Beth exclaim, “Grandpa! Did you really put Uncle Joe in jail?”

Adam rolled his eyes heavenward as his youngest brother winced. He was happy to have been away whenever that escapade had taken place.

“I certainly did,” Ben confirmed. “And Uncle Hoss, too. They’d gone too far in their detective work. Isn’t that right Joseph?” His presence had not gone unnoticed by Ben as Joe had thought, and the patriarch now looked to him to confirm that part of the story.

By this time, Adam had spotted a few of the book covers. Cutting Joe off before he could respond, Adam nudged his brother with an elbow. “Go pack the gear, will you?”

The look on Adam’s face was one Joe recognized all too well. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed easily. Joe gave his niece a reassuring wink and said, “See ya outside pipsqueak.” He headed for the stairs, fishing poles still in hand.

Adam gave his daughter a meaningful look before clearing his throat. “If you’d give us a minute, Pa.”

Ben patted his granddaughter’s leg and kissed the top of her head. A part of him felt inclined to argue on Beth’s behalf. After all, he’d given her permission to rummage in the attic and play with whatever she found within certain parameters Ben had laid out. The books were well within those. Yet he chose not to, recalling how much he had disliked others interfering with his parenting when raising the boys. Instead, he nudged Beth to her feet and stepped out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him.

Once they were alone, Adam crossed his arms over his chest and said simply, “Explain.” Beth was a clever girl; he did not need to tell her the particular items he wanted her to expound on.

The nearly eight-year-old toed the floor with one shoe, avidly avoiding her father’s stern gaze. “I didn’t break any of Grandpa’s rules about things in the attic,” Beth deflected.

That answer was all Alta, and Adam had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep to from smiling. Instead, he nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s true,” Adam conceded. “What about my rules? Do you believe you’re following those right now?” An eyebrow quirked as he awaited an answer. Not that she saw it, given her intense study of the hardwood floor.

She couldn’t lie to Papa. With her eyes glued to the floor, Beth whispered, “No, sir.” What had felt like delicious, secret, rebellious fun when she found the books now was a terrible pit in her stomach.

Crouching down to her height, Adam tipped her chin up so they could look one another in the eye. “My rules still apply at Grandpa’s house, or anywhere else. You’re old enough and smart enough to know that. I’m disappointed you’d think otherwise.” He braced himself for the waterworks that inevitably came anytime he voiced disapproval of her choices. Sure enough, tears began trailing down Beth’s cheeks and Adam readily drew her to him for a comforting embrace.

“I’m sorry Papa.” The words, obscured by tears, were spoken largely to his shoulder as she pressed her face against it. He held her tightly, letting her cry for a few moments before speaking again. “I know you are. I accept your apology,” Adam reassured his child. “I need you to look at me and listen now.” He waited until Beth complied before continuing. “You will take all these books and put them in my room. They will stay there,” Adam explained firmly. “I want a promise that you will leave them alone. You will also promise that if you find anymore in the attic, you’ll bring it straight to me.” He watched her nod enthusiastically.

“If either of those promises are broken, or you somehow convince your uncles to gift you any books like that, there will be a necessary talk. Do you understand?”

Beth gave another nod, followed by a sincere, “Yes, sir.”

“Then give me your promises,” Adam prompted.

“I promise not to take the detective novels out of you and Mama’s room an’ I promise to give you any I find in the attic,” Beth vowed. “And I won’t ask Uncle Hoss or Uncle Joe to buy me any neither. Cross my heart,” she added, making the appropriate gesture.

Adam smiled at her sincerity and reached for her hand, giving it a kiss. “Good girl,” he praised. “Take every single one of those to my room now. Don’t leave any behind,” Adam cautioned her. “Then we need to find Joe and go fishing so we’ll have some supper tonight.” He turned Beth around to face the prohibited material and propelled her in their direction with a mild swat to her behind.

When Beth’s arms were full of books, Adam opened the door to allow her to take them to the other room. Somehow, he wasn’t all that surprised to see his father hovering nearby in the hall. He rolled his eyes a bit and gave Ben a smile. “I’ll explain later,” he quietly told the other man. “Will you listen for Nora until Alta’s out of the bath?”

Ben coughed a bit, embarrassed at being caught hovering. Not that he was worried; Adam was a good father. He simply felt badly that he may have played a part in Beth getting in trouble. She’d told him the books were off limits, and he hadn’t discouraged her, after all. “Of course,” Ben agreed. “And we’ll met you later at Hoss and Callie’s place,” he reminded Adam.

A moment later, Adam scooped Beth up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried her down the stairs, the two of them giggling together quietly until they got outside.

“About time you two got out here,” Joe teased. “Hoss is probably wondering where we are. He’s likely caught the biggest fish already, too, and we’ll near hear the end of it!” He was glad to see Beth was smiling and the day’s plans were going ahead. Joe swung into the saddle and looked over at his niece. “Want to ride with me pipsqueak? Instead of that old man you call pa?”

“I resent that remark,” Adam grumbled, though he smiled as he spoke.

Beth’s eyes lit up and she looked at Adam. “Papa, can I? Please?”

“May I,” Adam corrected.

That drew a groan from Joe, who muttered under his breath that some things never change.

“Yes, you may,” Adam agreed easily when Beth posed the question correctly. He passed her to Joe, giving his brother a firm look. “This is one of my greatest treasures you have here. No careless riding. Hear me?”

Joe nodded his agreement, then leaned down to faux whisper to Beth, “He’s no fun at all, is he?” Though the little girl knew that wasn’t true, she giggled just the same, largely due to the pained look on Adam’s face at the not-so-quiet comment.

---

Hoss was tying up Chubb when the trio arrived at the fishing hole. He waved a greeting when he saw them coming, then shook hands with Adam as the eldest brother dismounted. “Glad to see I didn’t keep ya waiting,” Hoss grinned. “Daisy wasn’t too sure I oughta be goin’ anywhere without her.” His oldest daughter, Margaret “Daisy” Cartwright, was Hoss’s little shadow. “I think if Callie hadn’t mentioned Pa was comin’ ta visit, I’d have had a fight on my hands with that little one.”

“I think the only person Daisy likes more than you is her grandpa,” Joe commented. “And in second place is probably the ‘hossies.’”

Daisy had caused a stir in the family when her first word had been ‘hossy,’ though the tot had meant ‘horsey’ rather than her father. Once they’d realized, everyone had been enchanted by her excitement over ‘hossies,’ no one more so than Hoss. Though she was no longer a toddler, the family didn’t let the adorable mispronunciation fade away, enthusiastically adopting it, much to the now six-year-old’s chagrin

“C’mere pumpkin!” He beckoned Beth. “Give old Uncle Hoss a cuddle!” When his niece flew into his arms, Hoss picked her up and swung her around, making Beth scream in delight.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine why Daisy thinks the sun rises and sets by him,” Adam grinned. “Any prospects for you, Joe? About time you settled down too, isn’t it? Add to the growing number of grandbabies.”

Between Adam and Hoss, the next generation was already five strong, and one more on the way. Granddaughters currently outnumbered grandsons, four to one.

“Isn’t it time for you to go back to San Francisco yet?” Joe groaned. While Hoss occupied Beth with whatever game currently had them running around and shouting, he and Adam gathered the picnic lunch supplies and fishing poles to take to the lake. “Actually, I’m sparkin’ a real nice woman. Might even let you meet her.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really now? Who is this woman? Is it serious? Hoss!” he shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“’Bout what?” Hoss asked, pausing to toss Beth over his shoulder. “Mind if I toss this little gal in the water?”

“About Joe getting serious with a woman!”

Hoss laughed. “Yeah, he’s courting the new schoolteacher. The one that replaced Callie.” He moved closer to the water, dangling Beth over it as he waited for Adam’s consent to toss her in.

The request to dump his daughter in the water was met with an eyeroll. “You’ll scare off the all the fish.” He was met with sad looks from his brother and child. “Later,” he promised. Adam turned to Joe and chuckled, shaking his head. “Between you and Hoss, Pa’s gonna get kicked off the schoolboard for using it as a matchmaking service.”

Joe just flashed that charming smile of his.

---

Some hours later, the brothers laid on their backs near the water, fishing string tied to their big toes and hats pulled low over their faces against the afternoon sun. Nearby, Beth was asleep on the grass, covered with the blanket they’d used for the picnic. She’d spent the time before lunch catching a few fish, corralling Uncle Hoss into telling her whether a nest of bunnies she found were abandoned, and being chased by all three men in a riotous game of tag, during which Hoss accused she and Joe both of being part jackrabbit.

True to his word, Adam allowed Hoss to toss Beth in the water. When she dramatically called for him to ‘save’ her, Hoss and Joe made sure he got a good dunking as well. Some things never changed; at least it wasn’t the water trough, and Pa wasn’t there to see! Naturally, he repaid them in kind until everyone was soaked and ready for lunch, after which Beth had fallen asleep, giving the brothers time to themselves.

“Hey Hoss? Did you know our older brother had gotten real mean in his old age? He bans books now,” Joe commented. “I bet there’s a good story behind that.”

Hoss lifted his hat from his face, looking over at Adam with a frown. “Nah, not Adam. Not our Adam. Ban books? Yer joshin’ Little Joe.” When Adam didn’t dispute the fact, he realized it must be true. “No foolin’? Reckon I’d like to hear that story. Musta been quite a thing to have happened to make you ban books.”

Underneath his black hat, Adam let out a heavy sigh. “You two delight in my trials as a father far too much.” He adjusted his hat and gave them a look. “You just wait until yours are older Hoss. And Joe? I hope yours are just like you when you have children. Beth is very much mine and Alta’s child. She has my stubborn streak—not that I admit as much to Alta,” Adam grinned. “And my lovely wife’s fierce determination, along with our combined intelligence. Every so often, she makes me feel like I oughta write Pa a letter and apologize for my own childhood behavior because she can try my patience and I’m certain I tried his. And at times, Alta is no help at all.”

Hoss and Joe laughed softly and sat up on their elbows a bit to give Adam their full attention.

“A few months back,” Adam began, “Beth and I were reading the paper together. When she was little, she’d crawl up into my lap and pretend to read it with me. She’d turn the pages very seriously, even though she couldn’t make heads or tails of what was printed on them.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “Now she really can read it. It’s become a sort of breakfast ritual with the two of us.”

He shook his head, still faintly amused by the memory. “So it didn’t occur to me that an article about a female Pinkerton agent would catch her attention. She didn’t say a word about it at the time. But apparently, she peppered Alta with questions about female detectives to the point of distraction.”

Adam’s smile widened.

“I come home from work one afternoon and find my child with a veritable treasure trove of books about detectives. Her nose is so thoroughly buried in one of them that she doesn’t even notice me walk through the door.” He gave a soft, incredulous laugh. “I ask her what on earth she’s reading, and Beth tells me that Alta got the books for her.”

He paused, his expression taking on the fondly aggrieved look of a husband who had discovered he was the last person to know about something happening in his own household.

“And then my dearest wife says to me, as though this is the most ordinary thing in the world, ‘Oh, yes. We went to the lending library. Beth’s very interested in female detectives. She thinks she might want to be one someday.’”

Adam spread his hands. “Which was something of a departure from Beth’s previous ambition, which was to be just like Mama.” His expression softened at that, the humor giving way to something warmer. “Though, if I’m entirely honest, I’m not sure the world is quite ready for her in either profession.”

He glanced towards his brothers with a resigned little smile. “Between you and me, I’m not certain which prospect ought to concern me more: Beth as a detective, or Beth becoming a lawyer like her mother.”

The other two men had to smother their laughter to keep from waking Beth. “Oh, I bet that went over with you real well,” Joe grinned.

Adam inclined his head in agreement. “I told her, over my dead body would our child be a detective. Alta then gets her back up. Don’t I think women can be detectives? What’s wrong with women detectives? That was not at all the point,” he reminded his brothers. “I have no opinion on the matter in general, but not my daughter. I’m sure you can imagine it became quite the argument.”

“I admire her Adam,” Hoss chimed in. “She’s good for ya. Doesn’t do to let ya have your way all the time.” He grinned when Adam glowered at him.

“Now, you see, my lovely Alta is an only child. She never grew up with someone like baby brother here,” Adam went on. “I don’t think she quite understands the mischievous capabilities of children at times. Beth might be bright and put her nose in books, but she’s also a Cartwright. I knew exactly what was going to happen, that this would turn into play that went too far, but there was no convincing Alta of that.”

He shook his head at the memory of that argument. “Finally, I threw up my hands and said we’d do it her way. We’d let Beth have the books and learn what she wanted and even think she could be one someday. But the minute it became a problem that I had to deal with, detective anything and everything was done and that would be it. She agreed.”

The thought of Adam giving in to anyone was comical enough for the brothers to make them grin, given his stubborn streak. That’s why they had always liked Alta, because she wasn’t a meek woman who had no thoughts of her own. She’d readily go toe to toe with Adam, and he needed a partner like that.

“Given the book ban I’m guessin’ her way didn’t work so well, huh?” Hoss prompted.

Adam gave an exaggerated groan. “That, brother, is the understatement of the year…”

FLASHBACK

He and Alta had come to an agreement about Beth’s detective obsession, and he was going to stick with it, even if it killed him.

At this rate, it actually might.

The agreement itself had seemed perfectly reasonable when they made it. Beth was curious, Alta had pointed out. She was reading voraciously, asking questions, paying attention to the world around her, and they ought to encourage it. There was no harm in allowing her to explore an interest that cultivated her mind. Adam had conceded the point, because how could he do otherwise?

Yet he remained certain that there were better, less inclined to mischief ways for their seven-year-old to exercise her intellect.

In the two weeks since Alta had allowed their daughter to effectively empty the lending library of every book on the subject that she was capable of reading, Beth had thrown herself into the profession with an enthusiasm that would have been admirable under almost any other circumstances.

She read at every opportunity, including while waiting for the bath water to warm and attempting to continue while bathing. On one occasion, she had nearly walked into a wall because her nose was in a book and Beth had failed to watch where she was going.

Beth begged her parents for a small notebook in which she started to record information she felt was important, in large, painstaking letters that wandered unevenly across the page.

Adam had learned that any question beginning with Papa, where were you at three o’clock yesterday afternoon? was best answered with caution.

After doing her due diligence in terms of research, Beth discovered, much to her disappointment, that there wasn’t enough crime in their neighborhood to solve. The obvious and most reasonable conclusion for a child such as herself was reached—

She’d simply create some mysteries to solve!

It began small enough, confined largely to the Cartwright home. Silverware mysteriously disappeared from the kitchen and was miraculously recovered by the triumphant heroine just in time for dinner.

Next, Adam’s cufflinks walked off. That particular disappearance was considerably less amusing.

They were supposed to be getting ready for an evening at the opera, and Adam had been in his room dressing when he discovered that the cufflinks he had set out on his dresser were nowhere to be found. He checked every piece of furniture and the floor thoroughly but came up empty.

“Alta?”

His wife appeared in the doorway, already dressed for the evening, and took one look at his expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“My cufflinks are missing.”

“The gold ones?”

Adam nodded.

“The ones I gave you?”

“Yes.”

They searched together. The drawers were emptied and replaced. The dressing table was cleared. Adam checked beneath the bed, though he had no idea why he expected to find cufflinks there. He searched through the clothes he had worn over the past several days without result.

He had barely finished suggesting they check the other rooms when Beth appeared, wearing an expression of extraordinary solemnity.

“Papa? I know where your cufflinks are.”

Adam stared at her. “You do?”

And then, with the grave importance of a Pinkerton agent delivering the final revelation in a particularly difficult case, she produced them.

His relief lasted approximately three seconds. “Where did you find them?”

“I found the robber.”

Alta, who had been standing just behind Adam, went very still.

“You found the robber?” Adam repeated slowly.

“Yes, Papa.”

There followed a tale of extraordinary heroism in which Beth had apparently discovered that someone had entered the house with the intention of stealing valuable property. She had tracked the villain. She had confronted him. There had been a struggle. Quite a struggle, judging from Beth’s increasingly dramatic gestures.

There had been fisticuffs.

“And where,” Adam asked very carefully, “is the robber?”

Beth hesitated. “Well…he got away.”

“I see.”

“But I got your cufflinks back!” She beamed at him, thoroughly proud of herself and expecting him to be the same.

The parents exchanged looks that said they understood precisely what had happened. Their spirited eldest child had taken them and manufactured an adventure so Brave Beth could heroically return them.

Adam’s jaw tightened.

Alta’s intervention was the sole reason that Adam didn’t warm Beth’s backside and put an end to her days of detecting.

Alta laid one hand lightly against his arm.

“I’ll handle this.”

There was enough authority in those three words to make Adam step back.

As promised, Alta handled it with aplomb. She took Beth to her room, closed the door, and delivered a scolding that was stern enough to make even Adam wince from the hallway. There was no shouting, but somehow that made it worse. Alta explained, in terms that left absolutely no room for misunderstanding, that stealing something—even from her own father—was not a game, and that frightening people by making them believe a stranger had entered their home was not detective work.

By the time Alta’s lecture was finished, Beth was crying. Adam’s heart twisted at the sound, but he had no intention of interfering.

Beth was put straight to bed for the night, well before her usual bedtime and long before Nora was expected upstairs. There would be no detective adventures, no dramatic investigations, and certainly no more mysteries that evening.

And so, after making certain that she was settled, Adam and Alta went on with their anniversary celebration.

From then on, his things, at least, were left alone.

Unfortunately, the lesson did not seem to apply to anyone else’s possessions.

Nora’s toys became the next casualties. A doll vanished from the nursery and turned up several hours later in a place Beth considered sufficiently mysterious to require investigation. A set of wooden animals disappeared one afternoon and reappeared the following morning arranged in a neat line across the parlor rug, accompanied by a scrap of paper announcing that the case had been solved.

Then came the neighbor’s bicycle.

It disappeared from down the street one afternoon and reappeared the next day in a location no one could quite explain. There was immediate speculation among the adults, but no one had actually seen Beth near it, and there was no proof that she had anything whatsoever to do with the disappearance.

Adam suspected her; he was nearly certain of it. But suspicion was not evidence. And without that, he had no grounds to accuse her—particularly not after the agreement he and Alta had made.

The newspapers were worse.

Two mornings in a row, the papers that normally arrived at the usual hour failed to appear. By breakfast, the neighbors were complaining. One man went so far as to suggest that the delivery boy was becoming careless.

Adam found himself wondering just how long it would be before his daughter’s detective career finally produced a case he could actually prove.

One afternoon, Adam came home to find his daughter standing in the middle of the yard dressed in clothes that very clearly did not belong to her.

He stopped several paces away and simply stared.

Beth stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, an old cap pulled low over her hair and a shirt several sizes too large hanging nearly to her knees. The trousers had been rolled at least twice at the cuffs, and she was wearing a pair of boots that looked as though they had been borrowed from someone considerably taller than she was.

Adam slowly looked her over from head to toe. “Beth…”

She looked up at him. “Hello, Papa.”

“Where did you get those clothes?”

Beth brightened. “I’m undercover.”

He blinked, brow furrowing. “You’re what?”

“Undercover.” She said it as though the answer ought to have been obvious. “A detective can’t always go around looking like herself.”

He glanced at the oversized shirt, eyebrows inching upward.  “Apparently not.”

“They belong to Tommy.”

“Tommy.”

“The boy down the road.”

Adam closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course they do,” he muttered to himself.

“He let me borrow them.”

His eyes opened, then narrowed suspiciously. “He did?”

Beth hesitated. “Well…”

“Beth.”

“I asked him…” Her eyes drifted to the ground. She tried to toe at the dirt but the boots were actually rather difficult to work with, given their oversized nature. All the better for disguise, not so good for… movement.

Adam waited.

“He said no.”

There was a long silence before the exasperated father responded. “Then you did not borrow them.”

Beth frowned at the ground. “I was going to give them back.”

“That is not the point.”

“But I needed them, to be undercover!” She couldn’t understand what Papa was missing about this important point and finally lifted her eyes to his.

Adam stared at her.

She stared back.

“ALTA!” he shouted toward the house.

Naturally, Alta was not there.

She was at her office, and the part-time nanny, who had apparently reached the absolute limit of what she was willing to endure from the little detective’s increasingly hoydenish exploits, was nowhere in sight. Adam could hardly blame her. He pinched the bridge of his nose again and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

Beth watched him with interest. “Papa?”

“What?”

“Your face is getting red,” she pointed out helpfully.

He took another breath, trying very hard to remember that he and Alta had agreed to encourage their daughter’s curiosity. They had not, however, agreed to encourage theft. Or whatever undercover was going to involve.

“Go inside,” he said at last.

“But Papa—”

“Go inside and put on your own clothes.”

Beth looked aghast at the very idea.  “But I’m in the middle of an investigation!”

“The investigation can wait.”

“But—”

“Then take those clothes wherever they belong.” He pointed toward the house. “And then you will go to your room and wait for your mother.”

Now it was Beth who looked perplexed. “Wait for Mama?”

“Yes. Wait for your mother.”

She frowned, clearly turning this over in her mind. “I don’t think detectives wait for their mamas.”

Adam’s jaw tightened.

“Especially not in their rooms,” Beth continued thoughtfully.

“Beth.”

“And I haven’t solved the crime yet!”

Adam pointed toward the house again. “They most certainly do wait in their rooms for their mother if their name is Elizabeth Frances Cartwright!”

The little girl winced at the use of all three names; a sure sign that she had gone a step too far. She nodded her agreement and added a quiet, “Yes sir,” before tiptoeing past him to go inside.

PRESENT

Hoss guffawed while Joe let out a high-pitched laugh as Adam recounted Beth’s career as a detective. Adam scowled at them both, unwilling to concede it was quite as hysterical as they found it to be.

“At least we were stopping actual criminals,” Joe mused, flashing Hoss a grin.

“Yeah, but we still ended up in jail. And I gave Pa two black eyes,” Hoss reminded him glumly. “I ain’t so sure I’m ready to see our detecting days as so much fun, little brother.” He looked over at Adam. “Bet Beth was all done detecting too, huh?”

“Oh, one would think so, wouldn’t they?” Adam replied, a dollop of sarcasm in his tone. “Unless one is my wife.” His lips thinned in annoyance even now.

FLASHBACK

The house was blissfully quiet, the morning finding all the Cartwrights still in bed. The littlest two were sleeping, giving their parents a chance for some uninterrupted intimate time.

“Have I ever told you how ravishing you look first thing in the morning, Mrs. Cartwright?” Adam queried. He covered Alta’s lips with his own, cutting off any verbal response. When he removed them, it was to whisper words in Alta’s ear that made her blush.

“The things you say! You’re a wicked man, Adam,” Alta lightly scolded, a smile on her face. She kissed him and asked, “What am I to do with you? Let you have your way I suppose.”

“That would be best,” Adam grinned wolfishly. He began to kiss her once more when an ear-piercing scream was heard outside. They froze, locking eyes with each other.

“That’s not one of ours, is it?” Alta asked.

“That sounded like an adult. I’m trying to decide if I care enough to investigate,” Adam admitted.

Alta shook her head. “No, sir, you do not.”

More screams followed by the loud cries of a toddler were heard, causing Adam to groan loudly. “At least one of those are ours. Remind me to put locks higher up on the door later.” He looked in her eyes and sighed. The tears were angry, not frightful, and he didn’t respond as quickly as he might have otherwise. “Why did we decide to have children again?”

“I have no idea,” Alta lamented. “I’d say hurry back, but…”

Adam nodded as he rose to dress, also mourning the fleeting moment of intimacy.

---

Whatever he expected on exiting his home, the chaos Adam encountered was not it. The next-door neighbor, Mrs. Hammond, was marching towards him with the darkest look he’d ever seen. Beth was pulling on the woman’s arm, trying to slow her down. “I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it, I promise! I’m so sorry! Don’t tell my papa!” Behind them toddled little Nora, the source of the tears, red-faced and… tied with a rope?!

He swiftly moved past the neighbor, going straight for Eleanor whose hands were bound with rope. Adam recognized the knot as one his father had taught him long ago, from Ben’s sailing days. “Because of course it is,” he grumbled to himself. “Shh, it’s alright Eleanor, Papa’s here. Let me get you out of that. Shh, don’t cry darling,” Adam soothed.

“Nah cimmal,” Nora sobbed. “Papa nah nah.”

It took Adam a moment to decipher the tearful toddler’s words and was infuriated once he did so. “Of course you’re not a criminal baby,” he hurried to reassure her. It didn’t take a great mind to put two and two together and produce four in this case.

Adam glanced over at Beth, his face a thundercloud of anger. “You did this?” he asked, indicating the rope he now removed from the toddler’s little hands. His oldest daughter’s nod was barely perceptible. “Oh, little girl, you better have a very good explanation or you’re in for the tanning of a lifetime,” he promised.

By now, Alta had appeared at the front door and was speaking with the irate neighbor when Adam approached with Nora in his arms. The look his wife gave him was filled with regret and the story that unfolded was somehow worse than he had anticipated. And Beth? She hoped the ground would open and swallow her before Papa got his hands on her and she was never able to sit again!

PRESENT

His brothers stared at him wide-eyed. “She turned Nora loose in the neighbor’s garden, knowing she’d mess it all up and then arrested her? By tying her up with a rope?” Hoss repeated. The words were said slowly as if somehow hard to comprehend.

Joe let out a low whistle. “That’s… I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified.”

“Horrified, Joseph,” Adam snapped, giving him a dark look. It softened a few seconds later. “Though I have to admit, it made me think of you.”

Joe immediately looked indignant, while Hoss guffawed.

“And that put an end to detective anything in the Cartwright household,” Adam concluded. “All the books went back to the lending library, and we had a very necessary talk about how we treat our siblings, appropriate ways to play, and destroying other people’s property. I also made certain she helped Mrs. Hammond replant her garden and contributed her pocket money to the cause.”

Hoss looked over at his sleeping niece, who looked so angelic and peaceful. He had a hard time imagining all that of Beth, but then Joe always looked so sweet and innocent too when he was little. Joe had got him in more trouble than he ever did on his own! Still did sometimes, Hoss thought. “Old Adam’s in real trouble, ain’t he Joe?”

The youngest Cartwright brother nodded. “Yeah, he sure is. I mean that really was impressive.”

Rolling his eyes, Adam pushed an unsuspecting Joe back into the water, hat and all. Beth awoke to the sounds of her father and uncles in the lake, behaving like young boys. With a laugh, she went to join in on the fun, using Adam’s own hat to scoop up water and toss it in his face.

Knowing his part well, Adam playfully roared at Beth and pulled her in with both hands, promising watery revenge as she screamed with joy.

The End

Author’s note: This story began as a pinecone titled “The Book Worm” and has been expanded. It includes characters created in other pinecones but can be read independently with the knowledge that Adam is married to a woman named Alta, who is a lawyer, loosely based on an actual historical individual.