Summary: Joe wants to end a relationship, but the girl has other ideas.
Rating: PG-13     Word count: 10600

Sick Love

Rebecca

My eyes wander down C Street as I stand in front of the mercantile, dabbing sweat from my face. As always, the sun is merciless. Not a breath of wind stirs Virginia City’s streets. And the dust. Everywhere’s dust, creeping into each pore and leaving a gray shimmer on my blue silk dress, the one I wore just for my sweetheart.

If I were a man, I’d plop down on the wooden steps to rest my aching feet, but that would be inappropriate for a woman. The looks people give me while they go about their business are bad enough. They must wonder why I linger here for hours, pretending to study the displays in the store windows.

No one waits for me at home, and I don’t care what people think, because I’m deeply in love. I’d endure much more than a few hours under the blazing sun to meet my darling.

Soon he will be here. I can hardly wait to see the light in his handsome face when he spots me. Sadly, that doesn’t happen often enough. With his full-time work on the ranch, he’s always swamped and hardly finds time to visit. Yes, if the ranch were a woman, I’d be insanely jealous—but I try to be understanding.

A couple of weeks ago, he said we shouldn’t see each other anymore, but I know he didn’t mean it. It’s impossible that he no longer loves me.

My mother taught me never to give up, to keep my eye on the goal. And my goal is to be with Joe Cartwright. He needs to understand that we’re the perfect couple.

Sue’s Fashion’s window reflects my flushed face: smooth skin, a small mouth with pouty lips, and a wild mop of blonde hair I have to pin up to keep under control.

Men say I’m pretty. But I don’t want just any man. I want only one. We belong together.

At last! A buckboard turns the corner. I heave a sigh of relief, brush dust from my dress, and tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I recognize the familiar figure on the seat at once—legs spread wide, elbows propped on his knees, reins loose in his hands. That smile on his face makes my heart leap with joy.

Handsome Little Joe pulls the wagon up in front of the mercantile. He and Hoss climb down and walk inside without even noticing me. I’m a little disappointed, but that’s just how men are when they’re focused on their work.

Casually, I saunter closer. The surprise for Joe will be even greater.

It takes a while, but at last he comes out, a heavy sack of flour slung over his shoulder. With two quick steps, I leap into his path. “Hello, Little Joe. So nice to see you!” I chirp.

Joe stops dead, staring at me with wide eyes.

I place my hands on his chest. He’s wearing only a thin shirt, and I can feel the smooth skin and every hard muscle beneath it. My belly tingles. I’ve missed him so much!

“Uh, hello, Rebecca. Um, this sack’s pretty heavy, would you mind…” He sidesteps me, circles around, and drops his load onto the bed of the wagon. The cloud of dust makes me step aside.

“Becky, I thought we agreed not to see each other anymore. Things didn’t work out, and, uh—” He falls silent. I’ve got him cornered. His back presses against the buckboard, and that familiar Joe scent—fresh sweat mingled with leather and horse—drifts to my nose. My hand rises on its own to hush his lips.

“Shush! Don’t say that. I know you love me.”

His hands close around my upper arms, shifting me away. I love his touch. When I look up, my eyes are level with his lips, reminding me of the softness of our kisses.

But we are torn apart roughly.

Hoss’ hip bumps into my sweet boy, shoving him aside as he trudges out of the mercantile, carrying a barrel. “Howdy, Rebecca.” His voice changes from polite to annoyed. “Get outta the way, Joe! You’d better help me instead of flirtin’.”

I pout at Hoss. Sometimes he can be an unresponsive oaf.

Joe shrugs, mouths a quick “sorry,” then turns his back on me and heads inside again, Hoss following.

“See you at the barn dance on Saturday!” I call after him, raising my hand in farewell—but I’m not sure he hears me.

 

Joe

Getting supplies is a welcome break from ranch work. I slap my brother on his broad back before grabbing a sack of flour. “I’m sure we’ll have time for a beer later—it’s on me!”

“No argument here.” Hoss grins and wipes his sweaty forehead with his sleeve.

Coming out of the store with my load, my thoughts already on beer, I bump into Rebecca. She’s wearing her blue dress—it does look good on her. Her familiar scent of roses drifts up. Where did she come from? Did she wait for me?

She touches my chest. Normally, I don’t mind a girl’s hand on me, but hers feels wrong here in public. Her touch leaves a tingling sensation, but not the kind that excites—it’s the kind that makes you want to brush it off.

Pa raised us to be polite, but how do you shake off a pushy woman? My carefree mood is gone. Ending a relationship is never pleasant, though in my eyes, there wasn’t much to end. We had just a few dances and a picnic. I hope Rebecca gets over it.

Thank God, Hoss saved me from that mess!

We’re at the Silver Dollar Saloon, standing at the bar. It’s still early, not many folks around. Sam lines up bottles on the shelf, then starts polishing the mirror.

“I thought you and Rebecca broke up!” Hoss takes a deep pull of beer and wipes the foam from his lips.

I let out a weary sigh. “We did. But apparently, she doesn’t get it.” Will she wait for me every time I ride into town? I’m not interested in dealing with a woman who clings to me. Besides, I have a new girl I want to give my attention to.

My eyes drift over the empty tables. At least she can’t follow me in here—no women allowed in a saloon. I try to drown the unease in my gut with a few gulps of beer. “We had a good time, until I realized I wasn’t in love. Everything was about her. She always wanted me to say she was pretty or that I liked her dress. She talked about getting married and having children. Way too fast, way too much. I just wanted to have a good time—flirting, dancing, getting to know each other. But at the church picnic, I couldn’t even say hello to other women. She went crazy with jealousy!”

I finish my beer, then lean closer to Hoss, lowering my voice to a whisper. “I never told anyone, but she always wanted to touch me. Her hands were all over me, slipping under my shirt. I didn’t want things to go that far—a young lady has her reputation to think about—but she sure made it hard to keep my distance.”

My gaze meets Hoss’s. His face is flushed—he always finds this kind of talk embarrassing.

“She was offended when I couldn’t find time to see her. I could make a long list of things that bothered me. Anyway, I ended it, but she doesn’t seem to accept it.” I drain my glass and set it a little too hard on the counter. “Uh, let’s get going. Best get home before Pa sends out a search party.”

“That’s reasonable, Shortshanks!” Hoss slaps my shoulder. “See you, Sam!” he calls to the barkeep as we leave.

 

Rebecca

Two days ago, when Joe and his brother were stocking up on supplies, he was so busy that he didn’t have time for me. He told me on several occasions how much it takes to keep a ranch running, so I decided to make it easy for him and visit him.

My anticipation is somewhat dampened, for the Ponderosa ranch house looks deserted as I ride into the yard through the shimmering afternoon heat. The house is big, solid. You can tell wealthy folks live here.

Joe has never brought me here before, but it wasn’t hard to find. I tie my horse to the hitching post and smooth the wrinkles and dust from my riding dress, the one I wore just for this occasion.

When I knock, Ben Cartwright himself opens the door. Folks in town say he’s a fair, polite man who runs his ranch with a strong hand. For an older man, he looks good. He’s tall, with gray hair and a firm handshake.

I try to peek past him. “Hello, Mr. Cartwright. Nice to meet you. I came to see Joe.”

Cartwright frowns, confusion flickering across his face. “Joseph’s out with the cattle. They’re branding calves all day. I’m sorry, Miss… uh…”

“Benson!”

“Yes, uh, I’m sorry. He didn’t tell me you’d be visiting.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll wait for him!”

Mr. Cartwright mutters something like agreement and steps aside to let me in. He leads me to the settee and offers me a cup of coffee.

The room is enormous! My mouth falls open as I take in every detail. The space is filled with rustic furniture. The chairs don’t match. Everything is spotless, yet the room feels dark and a little gloomy.

Bigger windows would brighten it up. They sure could use a woman around here. Once Joe and I are married, I’ll hang lovely, colorful curtains, get rid of that worn-out blue chair and that massive table, and add a carpet—

“Miss Benson?”

“Pardon?” Snapped out of my daydream, I look at the gray-haired man who’s seated across from me. “Excuse me—I was lost in thought!” The uncomfortable settee makes me shift, and I suppress a grimace.

“It’ll be hours before Joseph comes home. Do you really want to wait that long? Please don’t be offended, but I have to read over an urgent contract, so…”

Is he throwing me out? Am I not welcome here as his future daughter-in-law? Irritated, I set my untouched coffee back on the heavy wooden table. I refuse to let on how much his rudeness annoys me, so I paste on a false smile and wave it off. “Too bad Joe’s not here. Perhaps I misunderstood. Mr. Cartwright, I’ll come back another time!”

I rise and shake his hand goodbye.

On my way out, I feel his puzzled gaze lingering on my back.

 

Joe

Tired from the day’s work, I shuffle into the house that evening. I’m dirty, sore, and hungry. From the kitchen drifts the smell of fried chicken, and my stomach growls, but first, I need to wash the dust off. As I unbuckle my gun belt at the credenza, Pa comes around the corner, plants himself beside me, hands on his hips.

“Miss Benson came to see you.”

I freeze. “What do you mean? Rebecca was here?” My fingers tremble with anger as I unbutton my jacket. I glance toward the settee, though of course she’s long gone. “We ended things weeks ago. And I sure wouldn’t meet her in the middle of a workday!” My voice rises. “What is that woman thinking?”

“Joseph, calm down—and don’t raise your voice at me!”

I drop my eyes to my soiled boots. “Sorry, Pa.”

“It seemed to me,” Pa says slowly, “that she believes you’re still together.”

I let out a long sigh. “I told her it was over. She just won’t face it. The last few times I went to town, she appeared out of nowhere. Now she’s following me out here. Whenever I turn around, I half expect to see Rebecca in her blue dress. Up until now, it only happened in town.” I glance toward the window behind the dining table, expecting to spot her among the trees, before turning back to Pa. “Maybe you’re right. I need to be clearer with her.”

When I shrug off my jacket, dust trickles to the floor. My clothes are gray with grime, and the acrid smell of scorched cowhide still clings to me. “Where’s Hop Sing? I need a bath.”

 

Rebecca

Saturday at last!

Again, I slip into my best silk dress. It shimmers a deep blue. The bodice fits snugly, trimmed with lace at the plunging neckline, while the skirt puffs out around my hips. Turning before the mirror, swirling the fabric around my body, I smile at my reflection.

Joe said this was his favorite dress. He told me it matched the color of my eyes—the color of Lake Tahoe. Yes, Joe is such a charmer! His face always lights up when I wear it. He’s told me countless times how pretty I am. I could see in his eyes how much he desires me.

I trail my fingers down my throat, over the swell of my breasts, and imagine they are Joe’s hands moving across my body, sliding down my waist, and moving to my back to open the tiny buttons.

I picture his strong, tender hands burying in my thick blonde hair, pulling me into a kiss. I feel his lips melt into mine. The intoxicating scent of Bay Rum and Joe surrounds me, blotting out the world, leaving me dizzy.

My flushed face in the mirror makes me fan myself with one hand. Just imagining Joe caressing me leaves me hot and trembling. What a beautiful fantasy.

A frown creases my brow—it’s only ever been a fantasy. Joe has always been so decent, resisting every attempt I made to love him the way a man and woman should. With a deep sigh, I draw the brush through my hair one last time before pinning it up. Time to go to the barn dance, so my sweetheart won’t have to wait.

It’s too bad Joe doesn’t have time to pick me up in the buggy. However, it is only a few minutes’ walk.

Behind me, I hear voices, but it’s only a cheerful couple heading arm in arm toward the brightly lit barn. Music spills onto the street. Excitement surges. I wipe my damp palms on my dress, glancing around. Joe must be here any minute.

I can’t wait to dance with my darling. I hope he wears his blue suit and white shirt—they make him look so handsome. Most days, he’s far less formal.

 

Joe

With a relaxed smile, I dismount in front of the barn and tie Cochise to the hitching post. From inside come fiddle tunes and bursts of laughter. Saturday night is the highlight of the week. I dust off my shirt and head toward the door—only to collide with Rebecca.

Where did she come from? It’s unsettling how she always knows where to find me. I’d hoped to avoid her entirely—it’s growing tiresome having to turn her away again and again. Will she make a scene in front of everyone?

Unpleasant sweat dampens my armpits and palms. I sigh. Well, maybe this is the time to be crystal clear with Becky.

I open my mouth, but her hands shoot forward, loop around my neck, and yank my head down for a kiss. I jerk aside, dodging her lips. “Rebecca! Don’t! This is ridiculous. Our relationship is over. I’ve got a date with Samantha tonight.”

I grab her slender forearms and peel her grip away from my neck.

For an instant, annoyance flashes across her face. “Joe, you’re hurting me!”

At first, I think my words hurt her, but then I realize how tight my hold is. I let go at once. “Sorry, but you don’t give me much choice, do you?” I mutter, struggling to keep calm. I’d never hurt a woman deliberately.

“I thought we might dance together!”

Heat rises in my chest, my body stiffening. In a clipped, almost strange-sounding voice, I make myself plain: “No, Becky, we can’t. Please excuse me. I’ve got a date with another woman.”

I turn my back on her and walk inside. Maybe bluntness is the only way to rid myself of her.

All evening, Becky hovers at the wall, her eyes fixed on me. Her glare needles me. Pity creeps in—she looks lonely and out of place while everyone else dances, drinks, and laughs.

Samantha notices. Every time we spin, Rebecca’s blue dress flickers in my vision, and I can think of nothing else but those burning stares drilling into my back like hot coals through paper.

“Joe Cartwright, do you think I’m too stupid to see you staring at Rebecca? I thought you broke up! Sort it out with her, then maybe I’ll dance with you again. But not tonight.”

Samantha sounds more hurt than angry. Her skirts swish as she turns away, leaving me standing on the dance floor while other couples whirl around me.

Shame scorches my cheeks. Joe Cartwright was dumped in public. Feeling like a fool, I rip the string tie from my neck, crumple it into a ball, and stuff it in my pocket. No need for it now. I head for the door—time to go home. Becky has ruined my evening.

 

Rebecca

At first, I’m jealous—but then I realize Joe would rather be with me. I see it in his eyes, the way he keeps glancing over. Surely, Samantha pressured him into the date, and he was too polite to refuse.

When she abandons him on the dance floor, I hide my triumphant smile behind my hand. Now my darling will see I’m the right woman for him. I’d never humiliate him in front of people. He’ll return to me and recognize our true love. My Joe is too good for that bitch.

Oh, my poor darling. He looks so dejected as he slouches toward the door.

I hope the little surprise I left for him will cheer him up. Yes, he’ll be delighted to find the scented handkerchief I tied to his horse’s bridle.

 

Joe

It’s a Wednesday, and we’re back to work.

Branding is, after gelding, my least favorite job—especially in the heat—but it must be done. I hoped working hard would take my mind off Rebecca. It doesn’t. Her clinginess leaves me uneasy. Even now, I feel watched—which makes no sense. Still, the icy knot in my stomach won’t ease.

It’s like hunting a cougar. You know the cat is out there, shadowing every step, but you don’t know where. Again and again, my gaze sweeps the brush, searching for a flash of blue. Nothing. A girl in a fancy dress couldn’t possibly be out here.

The absurd image of her crouching in the dirt behind a thornbush nearly makes me laugh.

“Joe, pay attention! Still got that girl in your head? Don’t be paranoid,” Adam scolds as he drags another bawling calf to the fire pit.

Darn, the branding iron overheated. Shaking my head to clear the fog, I force my thoughts back to work. Paranoid? I don’t even know what that means.

 

Rebecca

Hidden in the brush, I watch my sweet boy branding cattle. My brown riding skirt and dark green blouse blend me into the landscape. I’ve been lingering near the Ponderosa for days, hoping to cross his path. This morning, when he rode out with the ranch hands, I followed at a distance. I’m proud none of the cowboys noticed me.

The searing sun makes my eyes water. Dust and the stench of cattle fill the air, and I press a handkerchief to my face to stifle a cough.

Branding is horrible. My stomach churns at the sight of the poor calves suffering.

Joe, though—Joe is magnificent. Riding, roping, and moving with ease. Now he stands at the fire and strips off his shirt. It’s not only the sun that makes my cheeks burn. My eyes go wide, drinking in the sight. Sweat beads down his bare chest, carving rivulets through the dust. Muscles ripple under bronzed skin. Damp curls cling to the nape of his neck.

It’s the first time I’ve seen his naked torso. Oh my God, he’s so handsome! I long to run my hands across that golden skin, to explore every inch. Too bad Ben Cartwright raised him to be so decent. We’ve never gone further than kissing.

But we have time. There’s no need to rush.

The Cartwrights’ horses are tied in the shade of some cottonwoods. I slip a love letter into Joe’s saddlebag, smiling at the thought of his surprise. He’ll press the envelope to his lips, breathe in the rose perfume I dripped onto it, and think of me.

 

Joe

Another day of branding, but it was a short one for me. Because I kept looking for Rebecca, a moment of carelessness almost cost me my life. My fast reflexes saved me. I still shudder at the thought of how close the cow came when she tried to defend her calf. It was pure luck that I only suffered a deep scrape on my side.

It’s dark now. Pa put me to bed after cleaning and bandaging my wound. It’s painful but not deep—just a wide strip of skin scraped off.

Pa brings me a cup of broth and remains by my bed to make sure I drink it. Concern colors his voice. “Adam told me you’ve seemed distracted lately. Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

I take a sip of the strong broth to buy some time, then decide it can’t hurt to tell Pa. “It’s still about Rebecca. I don’t know what to do!” I hate the sound of desperation in my voice. “She follows me even here to the ranch. Yesterday, I found a love letter in my saddlebag, and I haven’t been near town in days!”

The actual letter and the perfume-soaked handkerchief from Saturday lie crumpled on my desk. “Rebecca won’t accept that I’m no longer seeing her. Whatever I say, she always hears the opposite.”

“Oh, Joseph, she’s just a young, lonely girl. She’s hurt and feels rejected, but she’ll understand eventually. Don’t encourage her in any way. Tomorrow, stay home and take the day off.”

“Yeah,” I reply, feeling like a youth asking his father for advice about a girl. With Pa, everything always sounds so simple and logical. Could he be right? Will this whole thing resolve on its own? I’m not so sure.

Pa notices my brooding. He places his warm hand on my shoulder. “Go to sleep now, son. Your body needs rest.”

“Yeah, I will.” With a sigh, I snuggle deeper under my covers. “Uh, Pa? Would you please take this letter and that fabric? Toss them in the fire. That smell of rose perfume makes me sick.”

“Sure!” He snatches them away before leaving my room, the door clicking shut.

I empty the cup of broth and make a face. Why can’t you eat anything solid when you only have a flesh wound?

 

Rebecca

Yesterday, I almost fainted when that crazy cow tried to impale Joe!

I absolutely must know if my darling is alright! I watched Joe ride home with Adam. He swayed in the saddle, and his shirt was soaked with blood. Although I watched the house for a long time, no doctor came.

I drive my rented buckboard up to the ranch house. Joe should be home, recovering from his injury. He doesn’t know about my surprise visit and the apple pie I baked for him, but it will cheer him up.

When I reach the house, I find the door unlocked. I turn the knob and step inside. “Mr. Cartwright?” I ask hesitantly. Nobody answers. The house is silent except for my heartbeat, which seems to echo through the empty room.

I’m nervous, because what I’m doing feels forbidden. I open one of the doors, but it looks like a guest room, and next to it is the kitchen. I reckon the bedrooms are upstairs. Placing the apple pie on the table, I climb the staircase. The steps are worn and creak softly. I sneak along a narrow hallway lined with many doors. Biting my lip, I open one after another until I find Joe’s room.

My sweetheart is sprawled in his bed, deep asleep. The covers are pushed aside, and the nightshirt he’s wearing has ridden up to his hips. My eyes widen at the sight of his half-naked form! I gasp for air.

With bated breath, I creep closer, trying not to disturb him. After all, he needs to recover.

My mouth goes dry, and my heart beats fast and hard. With one hand, I brace myself against the wall, trying not to pass out.

When I regain my composure, my eyes wander over Joe’s body. A white bandage is wrapped around his waist; I see it peeking out beneath the nightshirt. I catch a glimpse of his chest—tanned, smooth, and hairless. His slender thighs are firm and pale, and in a nest of dark, curly hair—I swallow hard. I didn’t even know a manhood was so big. How is it supposed to fit?

With a soft moan, Joe shifts slightly. My heart stops. He can’t wake up right now! I freeze, pressing my hands to my mouth to remain still. I’ve never seen a naked man before. My body glows with fiery excitement, and I feel a silky wetness between my legs.

Although every part of me is in turmoil and all of me screams to slip under the covers and caress his smooth skin, I must pull back. This is the wrong time for tenderness. Joe is injured and needs to rest. I’ll be reasonable and come back another time.

Reluctantly, I step out into the hallway. As his door squeaks, I leave it ajar.

 

Joe

A cool breeze blows across my body, giving me goosebumps. I straighten up on my elbows, frowning. My door is half open, moving with a faint creak. I’m sure it was closed before.

My head turns toward the open window. Maybe it was the wind, but something feels wrong. Something is in the air that I can’t quite place. Something floral, sweet, almost like—

My nostrils flare. It’s Rebecca’s rose perfume! I sniff again, no longer sure if I’m imagining it. It would fit with the open door. Was anybody in my room? I tug the nightshirt back down and pull the crumpled blanket from the foot of the bed up over my waist, shaking off the eerie feeling that makes my hair stand on end. Paranoid. Was that the word Adam used?

The growl of my stomach brings me back to my senses. I need to stop making things up in my head. Besides, I’ve slept long enough, so I’ll get dressed and go downstairs to snatch some food.

Where the hell is my shirt? I thought I just dropped it. Hop Sing always scolds me about clothes scattered on the floor. Shrugging, I grab a fresh one from the closet and slip it on.

The sight of an apple pie wrapped in a linen cloth sitting on the dining table brings a smile to my face. Hop Sing made my favorite! I walk into the kitchen to get a knife and cut myself a generous slice.

 

Rebecca

Impatiently, I tug at the handle of the jammed drawer in my dresser. When it finally gives, I drink in the sight of my treasures: a strand of Cochise’s mane, a battered pocketknife I stole from Joe’s saddlebag, and the blue silk ribbon he gave me when we first became friends. Smiling, I slide it through my fingers, remembering how he once said it was the same color as my eyes.

The newest highlight of my collection is what I took from Joe’s room—his brush, with a few single curls still caught in it, and a shirt I picked up from the floor beside his bed.

Pressing my face into the fabric, I breathe in deeply, savoring the scent of my beloved until I feel drunk with happiness. Soon we will be lying side by side, my head resting on his bare shoulder, his strong arm wrapped around my waist.

 

Joe

I’m sprawled shirtless in the dust by the fire pit, hogtied. Cows with their calves circle me, watching the scene with huge brown eyes. Rebecca towers over me, cackling, her heel digging into my back, holding me down. Madness veils her azure eyes.

“You belong to me, Joe! I will brand you as mine!”

Horror spreads through me as the red-hot branding iron with an “R” on it approaches my bare shoulder. I try to roll away. The heel keeps me in place.

Unimaginable pain rips through me as she presses the glowing iron against my skin. I smell my own burning flesh and can’t help but scream. “NO!”

I jolt awake, my heart racing like cattle in a stampede. It’s pitch-dark. My sheets are drenched with sweat. I struggle free of the covers I’ve tangled myself in and pull them up to my chin. My hand wanders to my shoulder, but I find only smooth, unbroken skin.

I listen into the darkness and sniff. Is my door creaking? Do I smell a trace of roses?

My groping hand finds the matches on my bedside table, but I tremble so hard I barely manage to light the lamp’s wick. A sigh of relief escapes me when the light spreads, warm and soothing. My room is empty and the door is closed. As the panic ebbs away, my breath slowly calms. It was just a bad dream.

Footsteps approach in the corridor, and my door is yanked open. “Joseph, are you alright?”

With the sleeve of my nightshirt, I wipe sweat from my brow. “Yeah, Pa. Just a stupid nightmare. You know, about Rebecca.”

Pa pours me a glass of water, and I down it in big gulps.

Is this how it feels to go crazy?

 

Rebecca

At last, Saturday night! I wait in my room, waiting for Little Joe to pick me up. After watching the street for what seems like an eternity, I realize he’s not coming.

Being stood up hurts. I don’t deserve to be treated this way. Offended and upset, I slam my front door shut, stepping out into the dark street. I’ll go to the dance alone.

Before entering the barn, I want to make sure—is Joe even there? Is he dancing again with that dreadful Samantha? I can’t bear folks’ eyes on me, their pity and whispers—‘That’s the girl Joe Cartwright left.’

A splinter pierces my palm as I press my hands against the rough barn wall to peek through a knothole. Couples whirl to the sound of lively fiddle music. People laugh and cheer, gathering around the punch bowl to talk and drink. The barn is flooded with light, and everyone is having a great time.

Me, not so much. I stand outside in the cold night, left out and lonely. The sting in my hand as I drive the splinter deeper into my flesh distracts me from my grief. Lost in thought, I suck at the small wound, fighting back the tears that burn in my eyes.

And there’s Joe—dancing with that redheaded whore, Samantha, again! My loneliness turns to rage. I clench my fists so hard my nails dig deep into my palms. Joe tramples on my feelings, treating me like dirt.

Seething with anger, I spin on my heel and march toward the street, where folks tie up their horses and buckboards.

Horses all look the same to me, but I recognize Joe’s striking pinto. He turns his head my way but stays calm as I come up beside him. Pulling a hairpin from my locks, I wedge it under his saddle. If all goes as planned, Cochise will buck. Joe will get hurt—just like I did. Maybe then he’ll understand how I feel.

The shreds of my latest love letter flutter to the ground as I tear it into pieces. He doesn’t deserve it. I grind them into the dirt with my heel. My vision is blurred with tears of anger and deep disappointment. Why is he throwing away everything we had? We had a perfect relationship. We loved each other. He always told me how pretty I was. What changed? Why doesn’t he want me anymore? It hurts to realize I’m never good enough for anyone.

This time, I won’t accept it without a fight. Joe Cartwright won’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll find a way to win him back.

 

Joe

It’s late at night. Samantha and I have been dancing for hours. Exhausted but happy, I return to the barn after walking her home, a huge smile still plastered over my face. As a farewell, she gave me a chaste kiss. My heart still leaps with bliss at the memory of her tender lips on mine! Maybe she’s the one for me. Imagine—the youngest Cartwright being the first to marry!

Best of all, Becky is nowhere to be seen. I hope she’s finally given up chasing me.

With a single fluid motion, I swing onto Cochise—and land on the ground with a hard thud as he bucks me off. Dazed, I sit up, rubbing my aching wrist. What happened? My pinto never throws me!

I scramble to my feet and unbuckle the cinch, speaking to Cochise in a soothing tone as he snorts and backs away from me. Running my hand along his belly and under the saddle blanket, my fingers strike something hard. I pull it free. My eyes go wide in disbelief at the hairpin, sharp enough to bore into my horse’s skin.

Clenching my teeth to keep from cursing aloud, I shove it into my pocket. That must have been Rebecca. The thought chills me—she isn’t afraid to hurt my horse, or me. How far will she go? It’s not over yet.

 

A few days later, Hoss drives into town to fetch the mail and pick up supplies. Alone. I avoid going to Virginia City.

Back at the ranch, Hoss flips through the bundle of letters he collected, then pulls one free and holds it out to me.

“A letter? For me?” Frowning, I turn it over. It only says Little Joe. I sniff the envelope—no trace of rose perfume. Relieved, I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“Somebody must’ve dropped it off straight at the post office,” Hoss muses, unbuckling his holster.

I tear the envelope open, my gaze skimming over the few sentences written in neat, delicate handwriting. “It’s from Samantha!” I pause, a puzzled look crossing my face. “Huh. That’s unexpected. She wants me to meet her at an abandoned shack on the outskirts of Virginia City this Saturday afternoon. She says she’s got a surprise for me.”

“What do you think it is? A gift? Maybe a picnic?” Hoss suggests.

“Possibly. We’d be undisturbed there. Samantha’s parents are very strict about protecting her reputation. So far, we’ve only met in public.”

Anticipation makes my heart pound. I need to ensure my best shirt is clean. Clutching the letter, I bolt upstairs.

 

Saturday at last! I have to endure my brothers’ teasing as I come downstairs, dressed in my good white shirt, a string tie, and hair slicked back.

Hoss chuckles: “Look at him all dressed up! That gal’s lucky!”

“Don’t you think you used too much Bay Rum?” Adam sniffs, wrinkling his nose.

I ignore them both, too excited to respond to my brother’s banter. “It’s getting late!”

“We’re not sitting at home waiting for you, Little Brother. We’re going to the saloon,” Adam says, reaching out to ruffle my hair, but I dodge him. “Good to see you smile again. I guess Becky finally stopped following you.”

“Yeah, you were a pain in the ass for the last couple of weeks. I’m glad you’re getting back to normal!” I hear Hoss call as I head out the door.

I didn’t tell them about the hairpin. I’ve decided to spend the evening not worrying about Becky, but concentrating on Samantha.

 

The abandoned cabin has stood in this clearing for many years. People avoid it because of the rumor that it’s haunted. Yet it’s still in fairly good condition. I know the kids from town sometimes touch the door or peek inside as a sort of dare.

The sweet scent of wildflowers envelops me as I guide Cochise through the grass toward the cabin. Towering pines form a dark green, fragrant scenery. The air is filled with birdsong, as happy-sounding as I feel. In the distance, a coyote howls a lonely cry.

A warm feeling spreads through me as I think of Samantha, so different from Becky. She’s interested in me, fun and adventurous, with a great sense of humor. I push down the nagging feeling inside me—this secluded place doesn’t feel right for Samantha.

A single-horse buckboard from the livery is parked in front of the cabin. I tie Cochise nearby. Excitement makes my heart race.

Pulling open the door, I step in. After the blinding light outside, my eyes struggle to adjust to the dim half-light. The room is not as dusty and run-down as I expected.

“Samantha?” I ask, taking a hesitant step inside, ignoring the overwhelming sense that something is wrong.

A scraping sound comes from behind me. My hair stands on end. I turn—but it’s too late. Before I can react, a sharp pain rips through the back of my skull. Everything goes black.

 

When I come to, the first sensation is a pulsating throb in my head. It feels like someone has tightened an iron band around it. The light sends stabbing pain through my skull, so I close my eyes and focus on my other senses. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee and apple pie fills the air, mingled with a hint of roses.

I guess I’m in bed with Pa by my side, stroking my hair and placing a damp cloth on my forehead. Did someone knock me out?

But something nags at my subconscious. Something is wrong, and I need a moment to figure it out.

My arms are pulled over my head, and I feel a rough rope cutting into my wrists. A thin, sagging mattress lies beneath me, and the pillow smells musty. Hop Sing would never tolerate musty bedding. My eyes snap open. This is not my bed!

A blurry face hovers above me, framed by blonde hair. Something blue flashes. A blue silk dress! I can’t breathe. Cold sweat collects on my chest. The bitter realization hits me like a bucket of ice-cold water. I’ve fallen into a trap. “Becky,” I whisper in terror.

“Honey, you’re awake!” The damp cloth disappears. Instead, a finger strokes my cheek. Blinking several times, I try to clear my vision. Rebecca sits beside me on the cot, leaning over me. Her hand creeps into my hair, smoothing it from my forehead. I almost gag as her overly sweet rose perfume hits my nostrils.

Her hand slides down to my chest, resting just above my racing heart. “Darling, you’re so excited! I’m glad you’re happy to see me! How do you like my surprise? This could be our new home. Look around and see how nicely I’ve decorated the cabin!”

“Oh God,” I moan, disbelief and horror settling in my gut.

I let my eyes roam. As in most cabins, there is a sturdy table and several chairs. Centered is the inevitable stove, radiating heat. There’s a shelf with battered enamel dishes and an empty cupboard. A thick layer of dust covers everything. Rebecca halfheartedly tried to wipe it away, but the smells of dust, mice, and mold linger.

Out of place are the red-and-white plaid tablecloth on the table, wildflowers crammed into a vase, several candles, fine china for two, flowery curtains on the windows, and a rug on the floor. Rebecca must have planned this for weeks.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” she asks, waving her hand through the room to show me her work.

“Yeah,” I say lamely, twisting my head to glimpse at my wrists. They’re tied to the cot frame, as are my spread legs. My boots and socks are gone. I only half-listen as Becky chatters beside me.

“Oh, my poor darling, you must be thirsty. Let me get you some coffee! Then I’ll fetch fresh cold water. There’s a little creek behind the cabin.”

I’m still testing the strength of my bonds as Becky sits beside me again on the cot, holding a cup to my lips. “Here, my love!”

I’m parched. As I tilt my head, a sharp pain shoots from my hairline down my neck. My head falls back onto the pillow. “Becky, please untie me. I can’t drink like this.”

“No, Joe, I’m afraid that’s not possible. First, you must prove that I can trust you. You have to convince me that you love me, not the Samantha you’ve been seeing.”

I swallow hard, pushing back the nausea. What does she have in mind for me? Apparently, deep down, she knew I wouldn’t voluntarily play along with her little game; otherwise, she wouldn’t have planned to knock me out and tie me up. For now, I decide to go along with it.

I try to smile. “Alright, give me some coffee!”

After I finish the cup, she sets it aside. Her hand rummages through my hair until she finds the sore lump. I flinch, suppressing a groan.

“Does it hurt much? I think I hit you a little too hard. You’ve got a big lump, and it’s bleeding some.”

“Yes, it hurts!” I pant as she probes the tender spot.

“I’m sorry. But you’ll forget the pain, I promise. We’re going to have a good time together. A perfect time! You won’t forget this night.”

“I bet I won’t,” I mutter.

Her blue eyes sparkle, and I see a flicker of madness behind the facade. She’s carefully dressed, her hair pinned up with a few loose strands framing her face. Her cheeks are flushed. At first glance, everything seems normal.

But looking closer, I notice the blue dress she’s been wearing for weeks needs cleaning. The white lace at the neckline is now gray with dirt, and I can see a tear. The fabric’s coffee-stained, and the cuffs are frayed.

Becky’s gone mad. Mad, but not stupid. She’s planned everything, and I—foolish, naïve, and love-struck—have walked straight into her trap. I wonder when my family will realize that—.

A slap with the flat of her palm hits my cheek, knocking my head to the side. New waves of sharp pain shoot through my skull, making me gasp. “What the hell?” Startled, I tear my eyes open.

“I asked if you wanted pie! I made your favorite! It’s rude to drift off while talking to a lady!”

“No, no pie, I feel kind of sick.”

She studies my face with an intense gaze, but seems to believe me. As her hand comes up to brush my cheeks, a shiver runs down my spine.

Becky doesn’t notice how uncomfortable I feel. Her eyes are veiled. The tip of her pink tongue flicks out to moisten her lips. “Your skin is so soft. Everything’s hard—your muscles, your calloused hands—but your skin…”

Her face comes closer, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Her hot breath brushes against my face. Before her lips meet mine, I turn my head away.

Another slap connects with my cheek, making me flinch. The sting of the blow and the embarrassment burn like fire on my face. She can hit hard for such a delicate woman. It was a mistake to underestimate her.

“Kiss me!” She demands, grabbing my chin in a firm grip. Her nails dig into my soft flesh. Pressing her mouth against mine, she forces her tongue between my lips. My nausea is getting worse. The pungent stench of rose perfume and the bitter smell of unwashed fabric from her dress make me choke. As her tongue explores the inside of my mouth, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to throw up.

For a second, I think about biting her, but what would the consequences be? Right now, I’m completely at her mercy. I wrench my chin free from her grip, turning my head to the side, gasping for air. “This isn’t how it works, Becky.”

“Oh, yes, it is!” She yanks at my hair, and spit flies across my face. “I had no choice. You wouldn’t listen to me. You kept avoiding me. It may take a few days, but eventually, you’ll see that we’re meant for each other. Until then, you must remain tied up!”

She presses her mouth against mine again. A sharp sting makes me scream as she bites my lower lip. Blood pools in my mouth and drips down my chin, making me cough.

Rebecca looks crazier than ever. She wipes her lips with the back of her hand, leaving red streaks. Her eyes flash angrily. “That was just a little taste of what happens when you reject me. Think about it. I’ll be back later.” She turns and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

My body slumps after Becky leaves, the tension leaving me with a long, sighing breath. Oh God, how am I going to get out of this? I wiggle my fingers, but they feel numb. My shoulder joints ache as I twist and turn, straining against the rough ropes biting into my skin. Even the cots’ frame doesn’t give. Whoever built this cot sure made it sturdy.

My muscles tremble with the effort as I finally let my head fall back in resignation. I wish I had my knife, but it’s somewhere in my boot on the floor. My mind is working at full speed, searching for a solution, a way out. Suppose I were to agree and sleep with Rebecca—no. I dismiss the thought as quickly as it came. I can’t do that. In the worst case, she’d end up pregnant, and I’d be stuck with her for the rest of my life.

Becky returns. My reprieve is over, and I brace myself for what’s coming. How far will she go? A nervous feeling settles in my stomach.

I hold my breath as she sits down beside me on the cot. Her eyes roam over me, examining every inch until coming to rest on my chafed wrists. She knows I’ve tried to escape. My sweat-drenched shirt gives me away, too.

“Now we’re going to have some fun, darling!” Rebecca smiles and begins to unbutton my shirt. I feel my muscles tighten in resistance.

“What are you doing? Please, Becky, stop!” My heart is racing again. She pushes the shirt aside, and her greedy eyes wander over my bare chest. That gaze makes me shiver.

“Do you like that, honey?” As light as a feather, she runs her fingers over the bulge of my chest muscles and down my ribs. Her hands brush my hips, making me tense up even more. I clench my teeth and pray that my body won’t react to her touch.

“Becky, don’t! Let’s talk,” I try to reason with her.

“Talk? You avoided me for the past few weeks when I wanted to talk to you. Now is the time for action, not talk! Show me how much you love me!”

Her fingers crawl over my belly, coming to rest on my belt buckle. My voice sounds strained, “This isn’t right! You’re an honorable young woman—.”

She throws her head back, and her maniacal laughter fills the small shack. “I was a respectable girl until I met you. You’re the reason I can’t think of anything else! I want you, Joe Cartwright. I want to carry your child. I want you by my side for the rest of my life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen!”

Despite the heat radiating from the stove, I break out in goosebumps. Tied to the bed, I am exposed to this madwoman, and it may take hours for Pa or—.

She unbuckles my belt and pulls it from under me. When the back of her hand brushes my crotch by accident, a nervous giggle bursts from her.

I groan in despair. This is worse than a nightmare! Yet there’s still a tiny spark of hope that I might reach her somehow. “Wait! What exactly do you want me to do to prove I love you?”

She giggles at the strained edge in my voice. “Sleep with me. We’ll have many children together.”

I’m jolted out of my thoughts as one of her hot, sweaty fingers traces the skin beneath my waistband. She’s trembling. I hope she’s too scared to go any further. I shift, trying to avoid her exploring hand, but it’s no use. Her breathing quickens, and her eyes glint with feverish excitement. No, I guess she isn’t scared. She’s aroused.

She fiddles with my fly. As far as my restraints allow, I move away from her. “Becky, please, you don’t want to do this! Stop it!”

She just smiles, trying to pull the tight pants down over my hips, but with my spread legs and me resisting as much as possible, she fails. Her face contorts as she yanks at the fabric.

Cochise’s nervous snorting reaches my ears. An idea flashes through my mind. “Becky! Someone’s coming!” I hiss at her. It’s probably just a coyote, but Rebecca doesn’t know that.

Thank God it works. She pauses, tilting her head to listen. Then she lets go of my pants, hurries to the window, pulls the curtain aside, and peers out.

“Nobody there,” she says, turning back to me, a puzzled look on her face. Her brow furrows as she chews her lip like she’s forgotten what she was about to do. With a vacant stare, Becky’s gaze goes right through me. She rubs her temples, blinking several times. “I feel kind of sleepy. How about a little nap?”

Without waiting for my answer, Becky snuggles down on the narrow cot beside me, pulling a blanket over both of us. I grimace as she flings her arm across my stomach and rests her head on my chest.

She falls asleep quickly, radiating a sickening cloud of rose scent. Her head rises and falls in rhythm with my breathing, feeling uncomfortably heavy and warm. Loose strands of hair brush against my nose. There’s no way I could sleep now. My mouth is dry from thirst, and I desperately need to use the outhouse.

 

After what feels like hours, Becky begins to stir, stretching like a cat waking from sleep. I half expect her fingernails to dig into my skin like claws, but she just smiles and sits up. “I could use some coffee and apple pie right now. You too, honey?”

I’m thirsty, but I have another issue to deal with right now. I’ve held out for so long. “Becky, I have to go.” I avoid her gaze and stare at her chin.

“Where?” She frowns. Is she trying to humiliate me further by pretending not to understand?

“You know, I need to go to the outhouse.”

“Oh!”

I can almost hear her brain working.

“I’m not going to untie you. You’re trying to trick me, right?” She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me with narrowed eyes.

“No, Becky, I really have to…”

“Well, if it’s really that important, use this!” She grabs a dented enamel bowl and crams it between my legs.

I feel myself blushing bright red. “No! I can’t do that!”

But I have to. She won’t untie me. I don’t have much of a choice.

It’s awkward and clumsy until Becky arranges everything so that I can empty my bladder. My face glows with shame.

The sight of my manhood, which she has fished out of my pants with her pointed fingers, seems to irritate her. She is no longer as eager as before but calmer and more thoughtful. She tucks everything back into my trousers, leaving the buttons undone, before carrying the bowl outside to empty it.

“What’s it like to make love?” she asks as she’s heading back into the cabin and wiping her hands on her dress.

What’s this now? An explanation about making babies? I pause to think for a moment, then I decide to be honest. I still hope that some part of the sensible Rebecca remains inside her, one that will realize how crazy this is and see that it leads nowhere.

“Both parts have to want it. It’s not love if you’re forced into it. It’s rape.” Yeah, I know these are harsh words, but she needs to understand what she’s about to do.

In her flickering eyes, I see shock, and then something like understanding. “You don’t love me, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

Tears roll down her cheeks. “I wanted so badly for someone to love me… for you to love me. Do you know what it feels like to crave a touch so much it hurts? To feel so drawn to someone that without them, you feel incomplete?”

I swallow, unsure how to answer. The usual phrases come to mind. “You’ll find the right man—someone you love, and who loves you back with all their heart.”

Becky sniffs and wipes her nose with her sleeve. Her eyes, red from crying, are full of raw emotion. I see regret, but also determination. A jolt runs through her body as she straightens her shoulders. She looks at peace, as if she has come to a decision. “I’m sorry, Joe. It shouldn’t have ended like this.” She bends down, picking something up from the floor. When she rises, she’s holding my revolver. It looks far too big in her delicate hands, but no less threatening. Becky trembles as she swings the barrel toward me.

I jerk my eyes open. “Wait! It doesn’t have to end like this! We still can part as friends!”

Wrong answer.

Becky shakes her head, her expression infinitely sorry. “You know, Joe, I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” Biting her lower lip, she trains the gun on my head. “I’d rather see you dead than in the arms of any other woman.”

She pulls the trigger.

 

Hoss

I’m in a great mood since Adam and I are on our way to the saloon. I’m looking forward to a few beers and a night out with friends.

As we steer our horses down the street in Virginia City, the door of a brightly lit house swings open, and a figure runs into the street. A green dress, fiery red hair—the woman looks as though she’s spruced up for a date.

I point in her direction. “Hey, Adam, look—isn’t that Joe’s gal, Samantha?”

Adam nods. “Yeah. But where’s the boy if she’s here?”

“Hoss, Adam!” Samantha calls, waving to us. “Do you know where Little Joe is? We were supposed to meet. He was going to take me out for dinner.”

Adam and I exchange a worried look. I scratch my neck. “We were just about to ask you the same thing. The letter you wrote said you’d meet him tonight at that abandoned shack.”

“I didn’t write him a letter. And what’s this about a shack? We always meet in town. I have to watch my reputation.” Samantha sounds genuinely confused and a little upset, but that will have to wait.

“We’ll talk later! Everything will work out!” I call to her as I urge my horse forward. Adam does the same. We don’t need words to understand each other.

Both of us know Little Brother is in trouble.

 

Joe

A loud bang fills the cabin. It isn’t the gun. The cabin door slams against the wall, nearly ripping off its hinges.

Rebecca, still fumbling with my revolver, spins around. Her mouth falls open as Hoss barrels into the room. She stumbled back several steps. A surprised cry escapes her when her dress snags on a nail. I hear the rip of fabric, and then she crumbles in a swirl of blue silk. A shot rings out, deafening in the tiny space.

Rebecca crumbles. Her slack fingers release my weapon—it had fired accidentally.

“Joe!” I hear Hoss yell as he’s beside me, leaning over. Adam drops to his knees next to Rebecca. Hoss’s horrified gaze sweeps over me, landing on my half-open trousers. I shake my head at his unspoken question. Hoss gets a grip on himself, draws his knife, and cuts through the ropes.

Trembling, I sit up, savoring the security of my brother’s strong arms around me. I take several deep breaths. “Good thing you found me so fast! Rebecca went crazy. She almost shot me.” I still can’t believe it’s over.

Adam stands, wiping his blood-stained hands on a rag. “She’s dead.” A few long strides bring him to my side, eyes dark with concern.

“Dead?” I stare at the lifeless heap against the wall, a crimson stain spreading across the white ruffles of her dress. “She wanted to shoot me. Pulled the trigger, but forgot to cock the pistol,” I whispered, trying to steady my shaking voice.

“It’s over,” Hoss says, his comforting hand massaging my back in slow circles. I feel my tense muscles relax. “Come on, let’s get you dressed. Can you walk?”

I nod, not trusting my voice, rubbing my hands to restore feeling. The tingling sensation already gives way to a hot sting.

Adam glances around the cabin, shaking his head in disbelief. He runs a hand over the checkered tablecloth. “What in the world was Rebecca up to?”

“She wanted to be with me. Said we should live here as husband and wife.”

“That woman belonged in an asylum,” Adam mutters, eyeing the apple pie with a frown. “Joe, that apple pie the other day… nobody knew who baked it. Think it was Rebecca?”

Hoss, who’d eaten most of it, turns a sickly shade of green. “Geeze, I hope she didn’t poison it or anything!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She loved Joe,” Adam says.

“That wasn’t love. She was obsessed,” I mutter, staring past Hoss as he helps me slip on my boots since my hands are still useless.

After buttoning my shirt and helping me into my jacket, he studies me intently, a flush creeping over his face. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Joe, I have to ask… did she… uh, do anything against your will?”

I avoid his gaze, stare at my raw wrists, and drag my tongue across the split in my lip. “Not what you’re thinking. She wanted, but she never went that far. Don’t worry, Hoss. I’ll be fine in no time.”

Hoss exhales with relief. “Let’s get you home, Joe. This cabin gives me the creeps.”

“Me too,” I shivered at the memory of the last few hours. I wanted to burn the shack and all its memories, but I knew it wouldn’t change anything.

Hoss wraps an arm around me, pulling me to my feet. I lean against him as we step into the cool night, lost in thought. Outside, everything’s as usual, despite what had happened inside the cabin. I hear the familiar chirping of insects and the call of an owl. No more worries about catching a glimpse of a blue dress.

As Adam brings our horses, Cochise snorts, nudging my face with his soft nose. I breathe in the comforting scent of my pinto. Adam looks me over.  “I’m going into town to tell Roy, so he can handle the body and notify any relatives. Hoss, you take Joe home. I’ll send Paul Martin up to the Ponderosa.”

“No! I need no doctor,” I say in the firmest voice I can manage. “All that’s hurt are my wrists.” And my pride for being overpowered by a woman.

Adam shrugs. “Whatever you say, Joe.” He mounts Sport, steering him toward Virginia City.

“How’d you find me so fast?” I ask Hoss.

“Samantha stopped us on the way to the saloon. She waited for you and wondered where you were. I knew right away something was wrong.”

“I need to apologize to her,” I mutter.

“She was worried. She won’t be mad at you. Becky tricked you.”

“Yeah… I was blind with love,” I admit, climbing awkwardly into the saddle.

“Yeah, and I guess that won’t be the last time,” Hoss scoffs, making sure I’m steady before we’re heading side by side toward the Ponderosa.

 

Epilogue – Joe

This morning, Sheriff Roy Coffee rode out to the ranch to report the latest investigation. Not much had been uncovered.

Rebecca’s home showed signs of her madness. The once elegant rooms were neglected. Dirty clothes and moldy food were scattered about. The eerie part was how long she had maintained the facade of a wealthy young woman—no one had noticed, partly because she kept to herself. Except for me, she had no friends.

The creepiest discovery was a drawer full of things she had stolen from me—my shirt and hairbrush—confirming she had indeed been in my room the day I was injured.

 

Standing in front of our fireplace, I look up from the newspaper article, which I’ve already read several times. Thankfully, the reporter kept the story discreet instead of turning it into something sensational. It’s just a few lines—enough to tell the tale without prying too far.

 

Tragedy Strikes at the Ghost Cabin

Last Saturday, Rebecca Benson, a young woman from Virginia City, was found dead in an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town. Miss Benson had no living relatives. Her parents had left her a modest inheritance upon their passing. The young woman led a secluded life and seldom attended social events, except for a handful of occasions—most recently, a few weeks ago, when she was seen dancing with Joe Cartwright.

Dr. Martin, who examined the body, reports that the circumstances suggest an accidental demise. Beyond this, Sheriff Roy Coffee has declined to release further details, leaving the town to wonder what had drawn Miss Benson to that lonely hut.

Rumor has it she had gone mad and had prepared the cabin to meet someone. A man? As it stands, we will never know what was going on inside the young woman’s mind.

The city authorities are considering tearing down the hut. Superstitious citizens whisper that it cannot be ruled out that the ghosts that are said to haunt the cabin have claimed another victim in poor Miss Benson.

 

I will never find answers to why Rebecca went mad. Could I have done something to free her from her obsession? Probably not. Anyway, there’s a small, nagging voice in my head whispering that I should have tried harder, should have been more understanding. And I also feel guilty for being relieved at her death.

Pa says that, considering the conditions and the methods of treatment in the asylums, it may be a mercy that she can now rest in peace. I guess he’s right, as always.

With a deep sigh, I crumple the page into a tight ball and toss it into the flames, watching until nothing remains but a heap of black ash. I need to get over my guilt and look ahead. Maybe someday there will be a way to treat madness. Medicine is advancing at a furious pace.

The End

 

Author’s notes:

Inspired by Sting`s song “Every Breath You Take”.

Written Summer 2023. I completely changed the ending and edited the story in September 2025

Tags: SJS