Summary: A bad winter and their ranch foreman lead the Cartwrights to an unusual set of triplets, and the adventures that follow.”
Rating: T 24,680 words
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Though the Library already contains stories from this author, this story was forwarded by Corina to be included as part of this project.
FOLLOW YOUR HEART
CHAPTER ONE
Clete Dawson smiled as he looked at the familiar handwriting on the letter he was holding. His smile broadened as he read the contents of the letter. The timing might be just right. It’s been a long, hard winter.
He rose from his chair and stretched his arms and legs, looking around the Ponderosa as he did so. Though it wasn’t quite Spring yet, the snows had melted and the sun gave a new promise of the coming warmth and the time of new growing things.
Clete was second-in-command as foreman on the sprawling Ponderosa. Red Dukes was the main foreman, but Clete had been working for the Cartwrights for a long time and had shown himself to be not only a top hand but responsible enough to run things if the need arose in Red’s absence. Clete was very proud to be working for “Mr. Ben” and his sons on the biggest and most lucrative ranch in the territory. He was trusted implicitly and got along well with all the men he worked with. Sure, he had been into some tussles and arguments over the years with a few of the newer hands, but those incidents were few and far between. Nobody really knew how old Clete was – he was never asked and he never had reason to tell. He was tall and rangy, a fact which belied his physical strength. There were quite a few times when he arm-wrestled with Hoss, just for fun. Nobody could tell if he actually won a match against Hoss or if Hoss let him win. It was just a known fact that Clete was very strong, and that was all that mattered. Maybe he wasn’t as well-educated as the Cartwrights or some of the other hands, but he had life experience which had served him well. He was a man of few words, but he was an exceptional listener. If any of the hands encountered problems, Clete was the man to talk to. His wisdom was always appreciated.
With the letter in his pocket, he headed toward the “big house” to talk to Mr. Ben. He caught a whiff of Hop Sing’s eggs and bacon and coffee, and he smiled again. He would be asked to join the family for breakfast and he would accept with a big smile. Life was good and, when Mr. Ben read the letter, things just might get even better.
CHAPTER TWO
Hop Sing heard the knock on the door and opened it. He smiled when he saw Clete standing outside. Before he could say anything, Ben’s voice was asking who was at the door.
“It’s Mistah Clete,” Hop Sing answered, already ushering Clete into the house. “You come just in time to eat eggs, bacon, hominy,” he whispered as Clete stepped through the doorway, removing his hat as he did so.
“Well, tell him to come in and eat some breakfast,” Ben called from around the corner where the dining table was located.
Hop Sing giggled and scurried back to the kitchen while Clete approached the table. Hop Sing knew that Clete was always welcome in the house which is why he had let the man in before Ben spoke.
Ben, Adam, and Hoss smiled at Clete, and Little Joe pushed out a chair at the table. Clete sat down and spoke for the first time.
“Good mornin’. Thanks for the invite to breakfast. I kin smell Hop Sing’s coffee all the way out to the bunkhouse.”
“Yeah, and I bet you smelled that bacon and those eggs, too, didn’tcha,” Hoss teased good-naturedly.
Clete snorted as Hop Sing served the breakfast platters and placed the coffee pot on the trivet next to Ben.
“Shoot, Mr. Hoss,” Clete said as he took a stab at the bacon. “The onliest thing that kin git you outta bed in the mornin’ is knowin’ there’s gonna be good food on the table.”
This comment elicited grins from everybody, including Hop Sing. He watched the men serve themselves to make sure that they had enough to eat. The Chinaman made sure that nobody ever left “his” table hungry. When he was satisfied that all the plates were heaped with food, he glided back into the kitchen.
CHAPTER THREE
As breakfast progressed, Ben turned his attention to a piece of paper which had been given to him by foreman Red Dukes earlier that morning. Ben’s brow furrowed as he looked at the figures.
“Bad year, Pa?” Adam asked as he sipped his coffee.
“It was a hard winter, son. We lost more than the usual amount of cattle to that terrible blizzard.”
“And the ‘black leg’ took its share too,” Hoss commented as he finished chewing his last piece of bacon.
Ben rubbed his forehead. “We lost three of our best seed bulls. That’s a real problem in itself.” Ben looked dismayed. “Looks like we’re going to have to replace them if we plan to replenish what’s left of our good herd. Plus, we need to buy more cattle to increase the herd that’s left.”
Clete was hoping for just such an opportunity.
“Mr. Ben,” he began. “Do you ‘member the Johnson Ranch over to Carson City?
Ben looked at Clete and nodded his assent. “A very thriving ranch until Betty Johnson died and Mike just up and left to head East. I remember hearing him say he just couldn’t look at all that land that he and Betty had worked so hard to build up. Good pasture land, several spring-fed creeks, and that big house he and Betty built. I was sorry to see him go.” Ben paused. “What are you getting at, Clete?”
“Well, that ranch has done been bought by some very good friends o’ mine by the name of Nichols. They have an enormous place of their own in Wyomin’ and have decided to branch out and are gonna move to Carson City, make repairs on Mr. Mike’s buildings, and bring in a whole bunch of cattle. Including seed bulls. Our winters here are bad, but Wyomin’s are worse. They do lose some beeves during the winter, just like you do, but they lose less. After they fix up Mr. Mike’s place, they’ll bring in some of their herd. What would you think about talkin’ to the new owners? They might be willin’ to sell you some of their seed bulls and more winter-hardy cattle.”
Instead of reading the letter he had brought with him, he handed it over to Ben.
After reading the letter, Ben almost smiled. “How well do you know these people? This letter sounds like an answer to a prayer. And just who are ‘the triplets’?”
“Shoot, Mr. Ben. I been knowin’ Jeni and Scott for so long that I kin hardly ‘member when I first met ’em. ‘The triplets’ is how Jeni and Scott refer to their three kids. Full-grown the kids are now, but I kin think back to when they was just young ‘uns. All of ’em is good people. They sure do know their livestock.”
Little Joe looked interested. “I’ve never met triplets before.”
“Me too neither,” replied Hoss.
“Do these ‘triplets’ have names? Do they know what they’re doing in starting a new ranch?” Adam always wanted to know the facts from the beginning.
“Yessir, they do.” Clete grinned. “There’s Al, Bart, and Cass. Al and Bart are married, and Cass is practically married. Like I say, I knowed ’em when they was just little kids. A nicer bunch of folks you’ll never meet. And smart, too. As a matter of fact, when I was much younger, I worked for Jeni and Scott for quite a while. I got tired of bein’ in one place for so long, so I wandered on down here to Virginia City for a change of scenery. That’s when you hired me. The whole bunch is kinda family to me, just like y’all are. We always stay in touch.” Clete paused. “What d’ya think, Mr. Ben? Would you like to meet ’em and just talk to ’em and get to know ’em?” Clete’s eyes almost looked impish.
Ben handed the letter back to Clete. “Talking about ranching business never hurts. And meeting new friends is an even better thing. It says in the letter that they will be here in a few days. Let’s go meet these ‘triplets’ and see what they have to say.”
“Kin I go with you?” Clete wanted to make sure that his presence would be welcome.
Adam grinned. “How could we go without you? Like you said, you’re almost part of their family.”
The stage was set. And it would end up being more than just talk of cattle and seed bulls.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Cartwrights – and Clete – reined in their horses on a hill overlooking the area of what would be called “Triple Nichols” ranch. Indeed, the ranch’s holdings were large, just as Ben had said, but no place around would ever be as vast as the Ponderosa. Still, the pastures were many and already gave the promise of what would be lush, green grass or a healthy growth of hay and alfalfa. In the distance were miles of trees and in the foreground were several buildings and corrals. The barn was large but a bit weathered and run-down. The house itself was in better shape and was almost as big as the Cartwrights’ home. It was a bittersweet sight – sweet because it was so beautiful but bitter because Mike and Betty were no longer there. Mike and Ben had often butted heads over timber contracts and the price of hay sales, but the Cartwright family and the Johnson family had been friends.
As they rode closer to the buildings, Hoss commented. “Kinda looks like a anthill, don’t it?”
Adam’s comment to Hoss, with a smirk, was, “You always did have a way with words.”
Joe snickered and Ben shook his head.
Indeed, there were people everywhere. Some were fixing the corral fences, some were on top of the barn or the house replacing roofing, some were fixing the shutters on the house while other were wielding paint brushes to areas of aging wood. At this rate, the old Johnson place would be good as new.
Tying up their horses to a brand new hitching rail, the visitors stood and watched the scurrying around. It wasn’t but a moment that a man strode up to Clete and began pumping his hand.
“Clete, you old cuss! I told ‘Two’ and ‘Three’ that you’d be here! Lordy, it’s been a long time since any of us has seen you!” Then, “Hey, Two! Get down off that roof and look who’s shown up!”
A carbon-copy of the first man appeared quickly and began pumping Clete’s hand. “Clete, just wait til ‘Three’ sees you! There’re gonna be fireworks galore!”
Ben cleared his throat gently. Clete apparently had forgotten that he hadn’t arrived alone and that introductions were in order.
Clete grabbed one of the look-alikes and began introductions.
“Al, meet Mr. Ben Cartwright, and these here’re his sons Adam, Hoss and Little Joe.” Handshakes all around. “Bart, meet the Cartwright family. They live in Virginia City.”
Adam, as usual, was sizing up Al and Bart. The men looked to be about twenty-six years old, had brown eyes, were probably a little less than six feet tall, had hair that defied any distinct color but leaned mostly toward auburn. They were suntanned and, judging by the grips of their handshakes, they were strong. And Adam realized that he couldn’t tell them apart. Which one was Al and which one was Bart? It didn’t matter – Adam liked them immediately.
One of the look-alikes spoke. “You don’t have to tell us who the Cartwrights are. We’ve heard about them and the Ponderosa all the way to Wyoming! We’re very proud to meet you all. I hope that we’ll be the kind of folks you will want as friends.”
Ben smiled. “There can never be too many friends in anybody’s life. In fact, out here, friends are a necessity as well as a luxury. When you get settled in, you have an open invitation to come to the Ponderosa any time you feel like it.”
“Dadburnit! I can’t tell which one of you is which. You look so dang much alike!” Hoss was confused and wasn’t embarrassed to say so.
“I’m Al. The firstborn. You’ll probably hear somebody call me ‘One’ for that reason. Bart is standing closer to Mr. Cartwright, and sometimes we call him ‘Two’ because he was born second.”
“Clete has told us that you brothers are triplets. I suppose the brother we haven’t met is called ‘Three’ and looks just like you two,” Joe surmised.
Al and Bart looked at each other and then looked at Clete. A smirk played about Clete’s lips and didn’t go unnoticed by Adam. But, then, he never missed much.
“CASS!” yelled Al. Or was it Bart? “Clete’s here! The least you can do is come out and say hello!”
“Better stand back, everybody. Cass has a peculiar way of greeting me.” Clete took several steps forward and braced himself.
Not knowing what to expect, everybody took several steps backward. Including Al and Bart. Adam wondered if Cass would turn out to be a troublemaker. Maybe there was “bad blood” between Cass and Clete that Clete hadn’t mentioned. He was wary and glanced at Al and Bart. Neither man seemed nervous at all.
There was a loud bang coming from inside the barn. A figure in bib overalls catapulted through the doors and charged directly at Clete who had taken a safe position several feet behind the water trough.
The figure charged directly at Clete at a dead run.
CHAPTER FIVE
It all happened so fast. There was a whoop of “Cleeeeete!” The figure jumped from the top of the water trough, yelling “Catch me!” and then sailed through the air, wrapping its arms around Clete’s neck and its legs around Clete’s waist. Clete took several steps backwards from the impact but never lost his balance. And his arms went around the figure in a bear hug, his smile broader than the Cartwrights had ever seen.
Was it Al or Bart who chuckled and said to nobody in particular, “Cass’s greeting for Clete never changes.”
The figure’s hat fell off, revealing a long, single braid and more of the facial features.
Hoss gaped. “That’s a gal!”
Little Joe’s comment? “I sure do hope so!”
Ben and Adam simply stood in stunned silence. Was this the third triplet? Both men remembered that the name “Cass” had been mentioned in that context several days ago but it was assumed that “Cass” was a man. Apparently not.
Whoever this person was, the expression on her face was one of pure happiness. Her eyes, not focusing on anyone around her, glowed with a sublime joy. Her smile extended from one ear to another.
“Clete! Clete! How wonderful to see you! It’s been way, way too long!” Her voice was melodic and genuine.
“Cass, please quit crawling all over poor Clete.”
Cass ignored the comment spoken by one of the brothers.
“I always greet Clete this way. Been doing it since I was little. No need to stop now.” She leaned back in Clete’s arms so she could look at his face. “Are we getting married yet?”
Clete grinned. “Not today.”
“Aw, you always say that.” Cass stuck out her bottom lip in mock indignation.
“Cass, please get down. You’re too old to be doing such things. Especially in front of company.” Which brother said that?
Cass unwound her legs from Clete’s waist, allowing her right foot to touch the ground. There was an impish expression on her face as she seemed to allow her left leg to get hung up on Clete’s gun belt. She and Clete stood that way for a few seconds before Cass’s other leg touched the ground. She unwound her arms from Clete’s neck and stood back.
Cass spoke to Clete. “You have to marry me now.”
Clete grinned, “Why is that?”
“Because I think we just made a baby,” Cass giggled.
“For God’s sake, Three! Watch what you say!” This from one of the brothers.
Cass looked around at all the faces, put on her most innocent look, and replied. “Why? Don’t these men know where babies come from?”
Hoss choked. Little Joe snickered. Adam tried to smother a laugh, and Ben put his finger to his lips to try to control the soon-to-erupt smile. When he found his voice and could control it, he asked the brother closest to him, “Is she always like this?”
The brother responded morosely. “No, not all the time. Sometimes she’s worse.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Al, it would seem that introductions are in order here,” Cass said as she looked at the four Cartwrights. So the introductions were made. Cass was no flibbertigibbet. She looked each of the four men directly in the eye, and her handshake was firm. Her smile was warm and genuine.
“Clete has written us about the ‘Cartwright clan’ and told us all about the Ponderosa. He holds all of you in the highest esteem. I’m so delighted to be able to put faces to names.”
Adam was busy scrutinizing Cass. She was average height but he could tell very little about her build due to the oversized shirt and the overalls. She apparently had long hair, judging by the length of the braid and, like her brothers, the color of her hair was rather indescribable – auburn with some red and gold. Her mouth was a little large and her nose a little crooked, but she would always be labeled as “very attractive.” There were smatterings of freckles across her nose, and her eyes were a brown-gold. Most unusual. Unlike her brothers, she had two deep dimples in her cheeks and also had a small cleft chin. She was not a carbon-copy of her brothers, but there was a distinct resemblance in some of their features. He had a vague feeling that he had seen that face before but just couldn’t remember where or when.
Cass turned to one of the brothers. “Bart, let’s not stand out here in the middle of the yard. Let’s go in the house and see what Bertha has set out in the way of food.”
Hoss shook his head. “How can you tell which brother is which?”
There was that impish smirk again. “Naked or clothed?”
“Cass!” The brothers’ voices in unison.
“Oh, all right. Can’t a girl have a little fun?” Cass pouted. “Hoss, Bart has a small scar on his cheek. He got that from when Al shoved him down the stairs when we were young. It was deep and, because we didn’t live anywhere close to a doctor, Ma just sewed it up on the spot.” Cass paused. “And Al has a small mole right below his lip.”
“What about when they’re nekkid?” This from Clete with a poker face.
“Birthmarks,” was all Cass said as she winked. And nobody dared to ask any more questions.
Little Joe muttered to himself as the group walked toward the house – something about how he had expected to be meeting three men rather than two men and a girl.
Cass didn’t miss much. Back came her smirk.
“Clete! Didn’t you tell them….? Obviously not. You have a mean streak, you know.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Little Joe said quickly. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
Once again, Cass giggled. “So were my Ma and Pa. Ma thought she was having twins. When Al and Bart were born, both boy babies, I slid right out after them. They were surprised that I was even in there and that I was a girl instead of a boy.” Cass paused. “I guess that my ever-lovin’ brothers pulled the stem off the apple early on and changed me into a girl. Both of them are mean as snakes.”
That being said – and before she could be chastised – Cass made a run toward the house, her melodic laughter dancing in the air.
“It’s gonna be a long day,” Al-with-the-mole said to Bart-with-the-scar. “She’s really wound up.”
“Not any more,” came Bart’s answer. “Look who just rode up.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
All eyes turned to the new arrival who was just now dismounting. The man couldn’t be called anything but handsome. He was tall and well-built and moved with an air of confidence. He was introduced to the Cartwrights as “Franklin Danforth, Cass’s fiancé.”
Adam, scrutinizing the new arrival, noted that the man’s dark eyes seemed to be flat and emotionless, though he seemed gracious enough.
“Glad to meet you, Frank,” Adam said perfunctorily as he shook hands.
Smoothly, the new arrival spoke. “I prefer to be called ‘Franklin.’” The man had eyes like a snake.
Adam took an immediate dislike to the man but maintained his composure. “Then ‘Franklin’ it is.”
“Where’s my girl?” Franklin asked.
“In the house seeing what kind of food Bertha’s fixed up.” Al seemed to be slightly on edge. “Clete’s in there too.”
“Oh, yes. Clete. The Cartwrights’ hired hand.”
Ben didn’t like Franklin’s demeaning tone of voice. “He’s not just a hired hand. He and another man share foreman responsibilities on the Ponderosa.”
“Ah, of course. Of course. The Ponderosa.” Franklin turned his flat eyes toward Ben. “I hear it’s the biggest spread in the Territory. I’d like to see it some time.”
“Some time.” Ben didn’t extend an invitation and walked the last few steps toward the house with Adam at his side.
“I don’t like his attitude,” Adam whispered.
Ben sighed. “Nor do I.”
Ben and Adam stood on the porch politely and waited for Al and Bart to invite them into the house.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Now all the men were standing in the living room which was crowded with packing boxes, crates, and all manner of musical instruments. The sounds of laughter emanated from the kitchen, causing everyone but Franklin to smile. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the appearance of Bertha, one of the cooks who had made the trip from the Wyoming ranch.
“That gal’s gonna be the death of me!” She rolled her eyes and put hands on her ample hips. “That Clete is tryin’ to teach her how to stick a spoon on the end of her nose and keep it there! My kitchen is a mess!” In reality, the kitchen was spotless, but Bertha had the tendency to exaggerate. She may have appeared angry, but the woman was as easy-going as any human being could be. A smile played about her lips.
“Clete’s shown us that particular trick many times,” Joe said. “I haven’t tried it, but Hoss has. And failed every time.”
“I just can’t get the hang of it yet,” was Hoss’s response.
At that moment, Clete emerged from the kitchen holding Cass’s body steady. On her nose was the scoop part of the spoon, and her eyes were crossed as she tried to watch the utensil as it clung to the tip of her nose.
“Cassandra Nichols!” Franklin’s voice dripped with disapproval. “Remember who you are!”
Immediately the spoon fell to the floor with a clink. Clete’s grin disappeared.
“Oh. Franklin. I didn’t know you were here,” was Cass’s surprised reply. “Clete and I were just….”
“I can see for myself what you and Clete ‘were just’ – try to remember that you’re a lady. How many times must I remind you of that? And what are those….those….clothes that you’re wearing?”
The sparkle in Cass’s eyes disappeared. “You’re right, of course. I’m not a child any more.” Pause. “I borrowed these overalls from Al. I was working in the barn and didn’t want to mess up any of my good clothes.”
The room was silent except for the rustle of Bertha’s skirt as she picked up the spoon and went into the kitchen.
“You were working in the barn?” Another tone of disapproval. “Don’t you know what all that dust might do to your voice? Manual labor will ruin your hands. That kind of work is for the hired hands.” Franklin looked directly at Clete who held his gaze steady. Franklin looked away first.
Cass’s demeanor had changed drastically. Gone was the smirk. Gone was the laughter.
“I guess I wasn’t thinking,” she said softly.
Franklin walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “I guess you weren’t. Now go wash up and put on something more appropriate.” He kissed her on the top of her head and smiled. Well, his lips turned upward but his face remained rock hard.
With a “Gentlemen, please excuse me,” Cass walked into another room and closed the door.
Bart spoke. “Why are you always so hard on her? She was having fun and she was also enjoying working in the barn.”
Franklin’s retort. “Don’t forget that Cassandra is one-third owner of this ranch. If anything happens to her voice or her hands, she’ll be out of work and you’ll be short some money.”
“We don’t need Cass’s income to run this ranch.” Al was testy.
“Ah, but it helps, doesn’t it?”
Stunned and uncomfortable silence ruled the room for several seconds. Then Little Joe spoke.
“Why are her voice and hands so important?”
Franklin looked truly surprised. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve never heard of ‘Cassandra Nichols’? Why, she’s sung opera all over the world! And when she’s not singing, she plays multiple musical instruments with the ‘Philadelphia Orchestra.” But maybe, out here, nobody keeps up with what’s going on back East….” The insinuation that people in the West had no culture hung heavy in the air.
Something in Adam’s mind clicked. “Quite the contrary. I happened to see her perform in Philadelphia a few years ago. ‘Tristan and Isolde’, I think it was. The star of the opera was ill and Cass took the stage in her place. Cass has a very extraordinary voice. I was quite impressed.”
“So you’re a patron of the Fine Arts?”
Adam had to unclench his teeth. “You’d be surprised how many of us ‘out here’ enjoy cultural interests. As a matter of fact, Thomas Bowers made an appearance at our Opera House just last year. He performed several times for an overflowing audience.”
Franklin said nothing but scrutinized Adam and realized that he probably had met his match. He would have to walk softly around this man.
Bertha magically appeared. “If you don’t eat now, the bread’ll get stale and the meat won’t be fit to eat. You’ll have to serve yourselves ’cause I ain’t got time to waste before it’ll be time to feed the ‘hired hands’.” Bertha fairly spit out the last two words.
“We’d better do as she says,” Al said with an anemic smile. “She rules the kitchen with an iron fist and, if we expect to be fed, we obey blindly.”
Ben spoke, “Shouldn’t we wait for Cass?”
Bart’s smile was genuine. “Cass won’t miss a meal. Bertha’ll have her hide if she does. Cass is around so seldom that Bertha can’t watch her like a hawk every day. So, when Cass is home, Bertha goes out of her way to practically force-feed her. In fact, Cass is taking a short sabbatical from her career before she heads back East. Bertha thinks Cass needs to be fattened up. Let’s go ahead and eat.”
CHAPTER NINE
It wasn’t long before Cass appeared. Her braid had been transformed into a bun, and she was wearing a dress. The men rose to their feet, and Franklin pulled out her chair. Though the men conversed, Cass had little to say.
After the meal, Franklin rose. “I must take the buckboard into town. Cassandra’s harp is the only thing that hasn’t been brought to the house. The piano is here, the violins, the cello, the harpsichord, and the guitars. The piano needs to be brought in, but I think everything else is already inside.” A long pause. “Mr. Cartwright, will you be here on my return?”
“We have some cattle business to discuss, so we might be here for a little while longer.”
Franklin nodded, kissed Cass on the top of her head, and then made his exit. The tension in the room disappeared as soon as the door closed.
Cass’s demeanor changed when she heard the buckboard leaving. She seemed to relax. But, then, Al and Bart seemed to relax also.
“I heard what you said about my performance in Philadelphia, Adam. You were very kind.”
“I was only telling the truth. You are quite gifted.”
Hoss was a bit confused. “I thought only fat ladies sang opera.”
“Hoss!” Ben was shocked.
The light came back into Cass’s eyes. “I’m really only the understudy. But you should see one lady. Why, she must weight at least three hundred pounds! It’s a wonder that the floor doesn’t cave in when she’s onstage!”
There was relaxed laughter as the group rose to wander into the living room. Ben had cattle business on his mind. Adam and Clete both had Franklin on their minds. Hoss and Little Joe had Cass on their minds.
CHAPTER TEN
Cass looked woefully at the living room and at the crates and boxes which were neatly stacked around the furniture. “What a shame that Linda and Grace aren’t here. They could help us unpack.”
Seeing the question in Ben’s eyes, Al spoke. “Linda is my wife. Grace is Bart’s. They’re ‘expectin’ and couldn’t make the trip.”
Cass dimpled at her brother. “Expectin’ what? Mail? What’s wrong with the word ‘pregnant’?”
The brothers responded in unison. “Cass! A lady doesn’t use that kind of language in mixed company!”
“I don’t know why not. It’s a perfectly acceptable word.” Cass’s dimples got deeper. “It’s not like I said ‘damn’ or ‘hell’.”
“Argh!” Bart said in a strangled tone. “You’ve always been incorrigible.”
“Insufferable.” This from Al.
“And you two have always been a royal pain in the…” Cass responded.
Quickly, Al clapped his hand over Cass’s mouth. But the three-letter word was only muffled.
“Franklin would have a fit if he heard you now.” Was Al actually blushing a little bit?
“Franklin’s not here,” Cass replied, the light dancing in her eyes.
Adam felt himself being drawn to this woman. He liked her spirit and attitude and wit but didn’t understand what she could possibly see in Franklin enough to marry him – the man had a distinct superiority complex and was condescending to boot. Adam wisely kept his mouth shut. For now.
“I know you’d like to talk men-stuff,” Cass said as she looked around the room. “But it looks like you’ll have to sit in the dining room to do it. I’ve got to tackle these crates and make sure that nothing’s been broken in transit.”
Hoss, bless his heart, replied, “Ma’am, you can’t uncrate things by yourself. Pa and Adam and Little Joe and Clete can handle the business talk. I’ll he’p you with the unpackin’.”
Cass looked at Hoss with gentle eyes. “Thank you, Hoss. But I can get some of the men outside to help me.”
“Nonsense, Cass.” Clete stepped forward. “Hoss and I can both help you. Mr. Cartwright doesn’t need me to talk cattle business.”
Ben held up both hands to indicate that he wanted to speak. “All we need are a few crowbars and some hammers.”
“In the barn!” And with a flash of petticoats and churning bare legs and feet, Cass bolted for the barn. It didn’t take long for her to return with the required tools.
Clete spoke. “Franklin wouldn’t approve of your running around like that.”
“Piffle. Franklin needs to calm down. Right now he’s just stressed from the move. He misses the East and just seems a little gruff.”
“Yeah, right.” Clete’s voice sounded completely unconvinced.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It wasn’t long before the boxes and crates were opened. The only thing left to be tended to was the piano crate on the front porch.
Bertha had brought in a huge pitcher of lemonade and poured glasses for everyone. Hoss took a huge sip from his glass.
“I don’t rightly know how we’re gonna git that piano through the door,” he said as he scratched his head.
“Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Cass replied. “It has detachable legs. It’s just really heavy and unwieldy.”
Clete knew all about how to set up the piano from years before in Wyoming. “Hoss, you and I can get that thing in here all by ourselves. Then it can be held up and we can get its legs in place.”
Al and Bart looked at each other. “Um, you don’t know how heavy that thing is.”
But Clete and Hoss were aware of each other’s strength. Both men were up to the task.
The only question that Cass had was where to put it once it was in the house. It didn’t take her long to find just the right place in the large living room. “It can go there along that back wall.” Before anyone knew it she had pushed a large chair, a coffee table and an end table out of the way. Apparently, she was much stronger than she looked.
Clete cuffed Hoss on the shoulder. “Let’s not keep the lady waitin’.” The two men headed immediately out the door with crowbars and hammers in hand while the rest of the group waited.
After the sounds of boards being pried loose and the squeak of nails being removed, there was momentary silence. Little Joe and Adam jumped up to lend a hand. But Al and Bart shook their heads. “Give them a minute. If I know Clete, he’s making a plan that will work like a charm.”
Heavy footsteps at the door. There appeared the piano with two legs that had been attached outside. The piano was being jockeyed gently through the doorway while tilted on its side. Neither Clete nor Hoss was even red in the face.
“Where?” Clete asked.
“There.” Cass pointed.
“Legs.” This from Clete.
“I’ll get them.” Bart was out the door in a flash.
When he came back in, Clete and Hoss were nonchalantly holding up the two-legged piano. Al took one leg, and Bart took the other. In seconds, the piano was standing sturdily on all four legs.
Cass clapped her hands in delight. “Perfect! Now all I have to do is tune the monster.”
Cass looked at Adam who had picked up one of the guitars and was running his hands over the smooth wood. This prompted Cass to ask, “Adam, do you play?”
“Some,” was Adam’s laconic answer.
“Don’t let him fool you,” Ben laughed. “He loves his guitar better than most anything.”
Cass looked at Adam – really looked at him for the first time. What a handsome man he was! Dark hair, expressive eyes, a sensuous mouth, broad shoulders, and a wonderful smile – with dimples. A small chill ran down her backbone. A good chill.
Adam was already tuning the guitar to perfect pitch, a smile on his face.
Cass sat at the piano, running her slim fingers over the keys. She rolled her eyes at the discordant sounds. She was also aware that Adam had found the correct pitch to the guitar, so she found her tuning tools for the piano and waited for Adam to play the first first string. The piano was tuned in no time.
Bertha peeked her head around the corner and motioned for Clete, Ben, Hoss and Little Joe to come into the kitchen. A fresh pie was on the table.
“That tunin’ noise goes right through me ever’ time,” she complained good-naturedly. “I ain’t never gotten used to it. Prob’ly never will.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cass couldn’t take her eyes off Adam. She watched his long, slender fingers as they found their way to the correct strings on the guitar he was holding. The description her mind echoed was “darkly handsome and incredibly sexy.”
Leaving the piano and picking up her favorite guitar, Cass began to play. Adam watched and played counterpoint to her melody. Soon the two of them had fallen in sync with a familiar Western trail song. Cass began to sing, and Adam joined her. Then Al and Bart picked up their violins and sang along as they played. It wasn’t long before the whole room was joining in with rollicking, toe-tapping singing. The only voice Cass was interested in was Adam’s. She recognized a good voice when she heard one. And he really could play a guitar! Cass was quite attracted to Adam, not only for his musical abilities but also for the fact that he was…Adam. And when he smiled at her, her heart sang its own music.
As for Adam, he realized that he was becoming quite smitten with Cass. Her eyes reflected her joy, and her smile was dazzling. He enjoyed the feeling when she bumped his shoulder occasionally – maybe it was accidental and maybe it wasn’t. He momentarily forgot about Franklin. What a shame because Franklin had a knack for showing up……
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
At that moment, Franklin pulled the buckboard to a halt and listened to the sounds of music streaming from the house. For a moment, his face turned dark with anger. Taking a deep breath, he jerked the harp from the bed of the wagon and hauled it onto the porch. It leaned heavily against him as he opened the door and stepped inside as the last chorus of the current song was ending.
“Franklin! Look! The instruments are all tuned and we’ve been singing and having a wonderful time!” Cass was enthusiastic.
“So I see,” Franklin replied. “While the cat’s away, the mouse will play.”
His ‘joke’ fell flat but he didn’t care. “While I’ve been all over creation hauling this harp around, you seem to have forgotten to put things away.”
The light in Cass’s eyes went out. “We checked the instruments to make sure there was no damage,” she murmured. “And Clete and Hoss brought in the piano. It’s tuned to perfection.”
“You asked a Cartwright to struggle with that piano? Cassandra, you have hired hands to do that kind of labor! Remember who you are!”
“I don’t know of any people who are as strong as Hoss and Clete,” Cass responded lamely.
Hoss jumped into the conversation. “She didn’t ask for my he’p. I volunteered. So did Clete. We was real careful with that pianah.”
Franklin ignored Hoss’s comment. Instead, he turned to Ben.
“Clete mentioned that you came to talk about cattle, and you obviously haven’t had a chance to do so. I’m sorry for that. Maybe you can have your business talk right now.” Franklin was hoping to get rid of the Cartwrights as soon as possible.
Ben was no fool. He knew that Franklin wanted him and his sons gone. Deliberately, he stayed seated and looked pointedly at the harp.
“There will be another time to talk business. I’d be interested in hearing Cass play the harp.” Ben looked at Cass. “That is, if she wants to.”
Franklin took a deep breath. The harp was Cass’s favorite musical instrument and he knew she wouldn’t refuse.
A flicker of light returned to Cass’s eyes. “I’ll have to tune it first. But it won’t take long.”
Ben smiled. “We have all the time in the world.”
Franklin was seething inside. He put the harp close to the piano and stood back.
Being careful to look lady-like, Cass glided over to the instrument, dragging an old wooden chair behind her. After she was seated and had propped the harp on her shoulder, she looked at Adam. And Adam knew what that look meant. He plucked the bottom string of the guitar and then Cass plucked a string on the harp. When the basics were done, it took only a short time to tune the rest of the harp strings. For a minute or so, she listened intently as her fingers automatically found their normal place.
She played a few simple chords, and then she began singing in her high, clear voice. “Ave Maria.” Her favorite song. Her ‘audience’ was spellbound. Even Franklin’s face seemed to relax.
Adam watched her intently. It seemed as though she had been transported to a different world – one of peace and serenity. The afternoon sun brought out the gold in her hair, giving her an almost angelic look. Adam Cartwright was, indeed, smitten.
When the song was finished, there was no clapping. Just silence. Her performance had touched every heart.
“Thank you very much for that,” Ben said softly. “You are most gifted, both vocally and instrumentally.”
Cass turned her eyes to Adam’s face, saw the warm glow in his eyes, and then felt her heart swell. She smiled at him and got a smile in return.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Cassandra, where are your shoes?” Franklin looked disapprovingly at Cass’s bare feet.
Cass’s smile vanished completely as did the serene look on her face. “I…uh…I don’t know.”
“When will you remember to act like the lady you are?” Franklin’s tone was harsh. Then, “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must ride back to town. I have a few errands of my own to tend to, and then I need to get settled in my hotel room. It wouldn’t look right if I were to stay here.”
He didn’t offer to shake hands with anyone. He only kissed Cass on the cheek and then made his exit.
Al and Bart let out big sighs of relief when the sound of the horse’s hooves died away.
“Honestly, Cass! Why do you let him talk to you that way?” Al was visibly upset.
“Al, he loves me. He only wants what’s best for me. When we’re married, things’ll change. You’ll see.” At no time did Cass say that she loved Franklin – a fact that one Cartwright didn’t miss.
Ben rose. “We need to head back to the Ponderosa. It’s getting late and our cook will throw our food out the window if we’re not home in time to eat.”
“But we haven’t even discussed the cattle business yet.” Bart looked embarrassed.
“When are you expecting the herd to arrive?” Ben asked.
“Early next week, if all goes well.”
“Why don’t you come to the Ponderosa on Saturday. We can talk there as well as we can talk here.”
“It’ll be our pleasure. Thank you very much.” Both Al and Bart looked at each other. Al grinned. “Franklin will be gone on business then, though.”
“What a shame,” Hoss said sarcastically. “What will we do without him?”
Even Cass had to laugh at that one as she deliberately swatted Hoss’s arm.
Good night’s and thank-you’s were said as the Cartwrights and Clete climbed onto their saddles and trotted away. Adam looked back and saw Cass standing in the moonlight, watching. She stood there even after the Cartwrights were out of sight. She didn’t know why.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
There was an air of excitement around the Nichols’ house because tonight they would be going to the Ponderosa for supper. It wasn’t that any of the Nichols weren’t used to being in the company of wealthy people – they hobnobbed with rich ranchers in Wyoming many times. And Cass was used to being in the company of the “financially-refined -and-cultured” crowd. Some of them she liked and some she could barely abide. But Franklin kept reminding her that she needed to surround herself with “big name” people – one never knew when she might stop being an understudy in her singing career and become the “star of show.” Frankly, Cass didn’t care about top billing – she just loved music. It didn’t matter to her whether she sang or played in the orchestra, but Franklin did mind.
When she first met him, she was attracted to his good looks and his air of self-confidence. During the course of their first conversation, Franklin was appalled that Cass had no manager to tend to her finances and appearances and schedules, and he told her so. Then he had offered to be her manager, and she accepted that offer. At first, theirs was strictly a business association but Franklin made it known that he cared for her deeply – as a woman. She had never had time to have any kind of romantic association with any other man. She couldn’t miss what she knew nothing about. She grew quite fond of Franklin as time passed. The fly in the ointment was that she was becoming dependent on his ideas instead of thinking for herself. She was told where she needed to be and when she needed to be there, what instrument she should play in the orchestra (despite the conductor’s own ideas), how she needed to speak eloquently and to stop being so sassy, how she always should be aware of taking care of both her hands and her voice. A small voice in her head had spoken to her many times: I have no freedom to choose what I want to do. She ignored that voice when Franklin proposed marriage. She accepted, but that quiet voice spoke to her again. You’re making a big mistake. Again, she ignored that voice. And Franklin was becoming more and more controlling, a fact which bothered Cass, her brothers and even Bertha. Cass’s parents just kept their mouths shut, trusting that Cass had sense enough to run her own life. So they thought……
Today, Franklin stood in front of Cass’s armoire and began picking out the dress she should wear to the Ponderosa. His eyes scanned the dresses hanging in front of him.
“This one,” he said with confidence.
Cass looked at the dress – a beautiful but revealing formal gown that she had worn onstage in one of her understudy performances.
“I think that’s a bit too formal,” she answered softly.
Franklin ignored her as he went to her dresser, opened her jewelry box, and extracted a stunning diamond necklace with earrings to match.
Cass shook her head. “I’m not going to meet the Queen, Franklin. I’m having an informal supper at the Ponderosa!”
“Don’t give me any of your smart mouth!” Franklin retorted. “You’ll wear what I say! You are the crème de la crème of society and must present yourself that way!”
He turned and headed toward the door, then turned around. His voice was soft but his eyes were cold. “Just do what I tell you to do. I’ll be back in town late tonight and will see you tomorrow.”
Cass sighed as she picked up the gown. It really is a beautiful dress……..
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ben greeted his guests with his big smile and warm handshakes. Ushering them inside the living room, there were more handshakes and greetings with Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe. Cass looked around the room, turning slowly as she took in just exactly how large the downstairs area was.
“I feel like a fairy princess who has found herself in a beautiful castle,” she said as she glanced at the dining table which was set with crystal glasses and fine china.
“I should have dressed in evening wear,” Al opined morosely as he fidgeted with his string tie.
Ben laughed. “Nonsense! I’m afraid Hop Sing went a little overboard when he set the table – he has driven us all to distraction with his efforts to dress up the place. He has a cousin in Wyoming who has written him on occasion about your family and what a beautiful home you have there.” Whispering. “I think he is trying to outdo the Nichols family.”
Bart laughed out loud. “Well, he certainly accomplished his intention. Your home is most impressive.”
There came a clattering and clanging from the kitchen area, an outpouring of words in a foreign language, and then Clete hurriedly appeared – holding his hand.
“Uh-huh,” Hoss grinned. “You was tryin’ to test Hop Sing’s cookin’, wasn’t you?”
Clete grinned sheepishly. “He hit me with a pan. Prob’ly broke my fingers. I might not be able to eat a’tall tonight.”
Joe snickered. “That’ll be the day! If you were taking your last breath, you’d ask for just one more of Hop Sing’s donuts!”
A round of laughter ensued – hearty and genuine. What a wonderful way to start a pleasant evening. Too bad it didn’t end that way……
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Cleeeete!” squealed a feminine voice.
Clete quickly jumped behind Hoss. “Hide me! Hide me! She’s gonna jump on me again! And if she don’t get to me, Hop Sing still is brandishin’ that dern pan!”
Hoss laughed out loud but stood solidly in front of Clete as Cass tried to reach around Hoss’s huge body. She finally gave up as Clete peeked from behind Hoss’s shoulder.
“Chicken,” she mocked.
“Cluck, cluck,” came Clete’s answer as he stepped slowly from behind Hoss’s back.
Instead of jumping on Clete like a monkey, Cass sidled up to the man and kissed him on his cheek. She was deliberately being ladylike (except for the squeal) because, after all, this was her very first visit to the Ponderosa. She truly did want to make a good impression on the Cartwright family – especially on one in particular.
The Cartwrights looked on, broad smiles on their faces. There was no pretense about the joy on Cass’s face when she looked at Clete – her unbridled enthusiasm was genuine. Al and Bart were quite used to Cass’s behavior, and the brothers grinned at each other.
Hop Sing sprinted from the kitchen, pan in hand, when he heard the squeal and then the ensuing laughter.
“No more steal fresh pie from kitchen!” he chastised. “Next time, Hop Sing cut off hand with meat cleaver!” He made a chopping motion with his hand and then disappeared into the kitchen, muttering under his breath.
Clete tried to look defensive. “I just took one little piece of the pie crust. It ain’t like I hadn’t washed my hands or tried to eat the whole pie!”
There was a chorus of laughter as all the guests were seated at the table. Adam sat directly across from Cass and couldn’t stop looking at her. There was no braid in her hair tonight, and the reflection from the overhead lanterns brought out the red highlights in her hair which hung halfway down her back. Her eyes were more gold than brown. Her face was relaxed, and her poise was obvious.
Hop Sing hustled in with overloaded platters of food, and then he silently disappeared into the kitchen again.
Cass giggled. “I think Hop Sing and Bertha should meet. They’re like two peas in a pod – they rule the roost, and they know it.”
Hop Sing, who could hear a gnat sneeze from forty miles away, shouted, “No woman in this kitchen!”
Cass shouted back. “Don’t worry. She won’t have a man in her kitchen!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Plates piled high, the meal began. There was a slight awkward silence until Cass spoke. She was seldom at a loss for words.
“With your permission, I’d like to explain my behavior with Clete.” She didn’t bother to wait for permission and launched into her story.
“My father hired Clete when I was very young. My mean-as-snakes brothers teased me unmercifully about my looks, about being the youngest, about not being able to do boy-type things. But Clete was always around. Though my mother taught me girl-type things, Clete taught me how to fish, how to ride, how to braid leather, how to track animals – not to kill but just to watch. He taught me how to shoot both a gun and a rifle. Most importantly, Clete was responsible for telling my parents that I had a knack for singing, something that my parents weren’t aware of. But they paid close attention to what he said and realized that he was right.”
Cass paused to daintily cut a piece of roast beef. “It was a well-known fact that Al and Bart were musically inclined, so my parents let me sing with them in the church choir and at weddings and funerals and such. It was Clete who bought a guitar for me. I couldn’t read a lick of music, but I was able to pick out notes quite easily. Soon I was playing chords and then arpeggios. I taught ‘One’ and ‘Two’ how to play also. Unlike me, they bought music books and learned what each note meant. I never did that. Al and Bart learned the violin and then the cello – they taught me. Then came the harpsichord and the piano.” Here, Cass rolled her eyes at her brothers. “But they never mastered the art of either of those instruments, though they are able to play some tunes in a reasonably recognizable fashion.”
Later on, all three of us got sent Back East to a music school, but Al and Bart longed for our Wyoming home – the farm work, the livestock, the building of things, the wide outdoors. The turning point for me was when I was introduced to the harp. I was hooked. I sang as I played, and a professor heard me and talked me into taking singing lessons. I am most fortunate to have a six-octave range, so I can sing in the lower ranges as well as the higher ranges. I soon found myself on stage, first as a member of the chorus and then as an understudy. Franklin became my manager, and that’s my story.”
Cass stopped. “Oh, dear. I’m running my mouth again. Please excuse me. The point that I would like to make is that Clete was always so dear to me. I had such a crush on him, but he was quite a bit older than I and was always quite the gentleman. My ‘greetings’ to him were always the same – climb up and hang on. Everybody thought it was cute when I was little but it’s probably perceived now as quite scandalous. I owe so much to this man who cared so much for me as a youngster and who continues to care for me as a woman. What with the distance logistically between us, I don’t get to see him often. But when I do see him, the child in me just comes right out.”
Cass looked at Clete and saw that he was blushing.
“Oh, for Heaven’s Sake, Clete! It’s true and you know it! I love you dearly!”
Clete grunted. “I unleashed a monster. She’s not allowed to sing opera in the house, here or in Wyoming, because her voice – in the highest ranges – causes glass to break. She has to practice out in the woods where the animals run and hide in sheer terror, and birds have heart attacks and fall right out of the trees.”
Cass took a big sip of water, gently swished it around in her mouth to cleanse her palate, and proceeded to stick out her tongue at the man she loved so dearly.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
There were no more awkward pauses after that. Cass’s poise, her ability to laugh at herself, her personality, her eagerness to listen to other conversations, and her intelligence endeared her to every Cartwright. Even Hop Sing (who was busy eavesdropping) was growing fond of her. Al and Bart watched their sister with pride. And, when they spoke, they themselves could be serious or comical according to the situation. These two were no dummies – they were impressive in their knowledge of running a working ranch. Ben had no doubt that “Triple Nichols” would be a big success.
Out came the freshly-baked pie. Instead of serving Ben first, Hop Sing tromped over to Clete.
“You get first slice. You already touch pie. Now you eat what you touch before I serve rest.” In the Chinaman’s hand was a spatula to use as a weapon if Clete dared try for a different slice.
Clete grunted and looked at the pie. He found the area where he had pinched off a bigger piece of crust than he originally thought and, discretion being the better part of valor, he pointed at that piece. Hop Sing nodded his head in approval, served that portion of pie, and then left the rest on the table for the others to help themselves.
“Hop Sing and Bertha better not ever meet,” he muttered in consternation. “They’d prob’ly kill each other with kitchen utensils and then we’d all starve.”
Dessert having been eaten, the group adjourned to the living room for glasses of brandy and the discussion of buying cattle. Adam deliberately seated himself next to Cass on the sofa where he caught the slight scent of Lemon Verbena. He breathed it in deeply and felt himself smiling. Cass smiled back at him. Maybe nobody else noticed this situation, but Al and Bart were very tuned into what was going on. Their hopes were that something would come of this interest between Adam and their sister. Maybe she’d see the difference between Adam and Franklin and come to her senses before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The cattle-business discussion began right away and was making positive progress. Then the conversation turned to buying a seed bull or two.
Cass smirked. “Let’s sell Thor!”
Al and Bart’s faces blanched. “We’re trying to make and keep friends – not run them off!”
Cass dimpled. “Thor is an excellent seed bull. He throws hardy calves year after year. He has the stamina and the genes that the Cartwrights are looking for and he seems to be impervious to extreme heat and cold.”
Bart gulped his brandy while Al looked everywhere around the room – everywhere but at the four Cartwrights.
Adam turned his head towards Cass. “What’s wrong with Thor that nobody will tell us?”
Cass dimpled at Adam and made his heart skip a beat. He watched as Cass twirled a tendril of her hair before she answered.
“Nothing is wrong with Thor. Ummm…he does have a slight attitude problem.”
Al choked on his mouthful of brandy. Bart covered his face.
Ben spoke. “What do you mean by ‘attitude problem’?”
Cass tried to keep a straight face. “He has a superiority complex. He chases the other bulls away and then scatters the heifers until he finds just the right one. He finishes with her and then chases the next one until she’s too tired to run away. It’s a vicious cycle but he sure does get the job done.”
The only sound in the room came from Bart’s glass clinking against the brandy bottle as he poured another drink. As for the Cartwrights, they were startled into silence. Never before had they had a conversation with a woman about breeding animals of any kind.
“Cass, please…..” Bart began but couldn’t finish.
“Oh, piffle. The Cartwrights didn’t build up their herd without knowing these things. Surely you don’t think that they believe calves are the result of the Immaculate Conception?”
Hoss hiccuped. Joe’s jaw dropped. Adam and Ben sat for a moment and then burst in riotous laughter.
When Ben could finally speak, he asked an important question. “This…this…’Thor’. If he’s such an asset, why would you be willing to sell him?”
Al, who had recovered from his groaning, answered. “Our other bulls are equally as hardy. But they don’t try to kill each other during the breeding season. Thor is both an asset and a liability.”
It was Hoss who came up with the idea. Cass was so savvy about cattle that he forgot that she was a woman, so he spoke frankly.
“Pa, if we bought Thor, we could divide the herds. Put Thor with one group for a while and then move him to another herd after that. And then to another herd. We could make the changes by cutting out the bulls and keeping them away from Thor while the moves are bein’ made.”
Smoke curled up from Ben’s pipe as he pondered this idea. “It could work.”
But it was Clete, who had remained quiet throughout the conversation, who spoke next.
“What about y’all’s goin’ over to look at Thor. If you like what you see, why not borrow Thor when the time is right? Pay Al and Bart for the ‘services rendered’ – whatever amount you agree on. If you don’t like the calves that he sires, then you ain’t stuck with a bull you don’t like.”
Ben smiled. “It’s a win-win situation then. I like that idea.”
Hoss looked at Cass. Her face was aglow, and her dimples were deeper than ever.
A knock at the door startled the group. The hour was late, so who would be visiting at this time of night?
Little Joe walked over and opened the door. There stood Franklin who walked in without being invited. He was greeted cordially – as were all guests at the Ponderosa.
Cass was still flush with excitement. “We’ve decided what to do with Thor!”
“Who’s Thor?” Apparently, Franklin (with all his intellect about music and singing) knew nothing about cattle.
“The seed bull we’ve had for years that arrived at our ranch two days ago with the rest of the herd,” Cass explained. “You surely remember him. He’s the one you call ‘ugly’.”
“Cassandra! You’ve been discussing cattle business with all these men? Including seed bulls?” Franklin looked disgusted. “What a grossly unladylike conversation you’ve been indulging in.”
Cass’s full lips thinned slightly. And with Franklin’s next comment, the glow disappeared from her face.
“And what is that…that…dress you have on. Didn’t I go to the trouble of choosing just the right attire for you to wear? Did you think my input didn’t matter?”
Cass looked down at the dress she had chosen all by herself. It was not the formal dress that Franklin had chosen. Nor had she worn the jewelry that he had picked out. Instead, she chose an outfit that she loved, made of creamy yellow material with a hint of green leaves scattered throughout the dress. She had chosen to wear a single gold locket with simple gold earrings.
Hoss, feeling the anger building in him, turned his eyes to Franklin. “I dunno what you picked for Cass to wear, but she shore does look purty in what she chose. As for talkin’ about cattle, maybe you’re right. Maybe most ladies don’t talk about such things. But she’s right smart – as smart as any o’ the men ranchers we know. You should be proud of her instead of fussin’ at her.”
Franklin’s first thought was to punch Hoss in the nose. But Hoss’s size and the anger in his eyes, even though his voice was controlled, kept Franklin standing at a safe distance.
“Come along, Cassandra. Let these men handle the ranching business. It’s late and way past the time you should be at home. Tomorrow you must practice your vocal and music lessons.”
“But…” Cass started to protest.
Franklin’s arm went around her shoulder and he propelled her to the door. So quickly did they make their exit that Cass’s thank-you’s barely got said.
“It was a pleasure having you here with us,” Ben said softly as Cass almost stumbled out the door. “Be sure to come back often.”
When the door closed, there was dead silence. But anger was written on every face in the room.
“I honestly don’t know what Cass sees in that poor excuse for a man,” Bart muttered.
“She says he loves her,” responded Al.
“That’s not love. That’s pure control of another human being,” Adam stated angrily. “She’s a smart lady. How can she put up with such treatment?”
Ben stopped the conversation. “She’s a grown woman. She has the freedom to make her own choices. It’s not up to us to intervene.” A long pause. “Let’s finish talking business.”
But Ben was as angry as everyone else was. He puffed constantly on his pipe until the air around him was a dark cloud – something he always did when he was angry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As planned, the Cartwrights, Clete, Red Dukes and a handful of other Ponderosa ranch hands arrived at “Triple Nichols” to buy cattle. In his pocket, Ben had the bank draft for payment in full. And, as luck would have it, the time was right to “borrow” Thor. The large group of men was met by Al and Bart, big grins on their faces as they stood and watched Bertha finish filling up the chuck wagon with food. Franklin’s horse was tied to the hitching post, much to Adam’s dismay. But he heard a piano in the background and knew that Cass must be practicing. How he longed to be in the room with her!
But business came first, and today’s business agenda was buying cattle so, with a small sigh, Adam greeted Al and Bart. Then the irony of the names hit him – Al, Bart, and Cass. “A,” “B,” and “C.” Just to try out his theory, he greeted Bart with a “Good morning, ‘B’” and watched as Bart’s mouth dropped open.
“How’d you figure that out? We’ve never mentioned it to any of you. Aw, Clete must’ve told you.”
“Nope,” Adam replied. “It just hit me as I rode up. Why be referred to as numbers instead of letters?”
“Our folks had a warped sense of humor.” Bart chuckled. “But ‘B’ and ‘C’ sounded so much alike that we got numbers instead of letters of the alphabet. Less confusion that way.”
Cass emerged from the house, wearing a dress (of course). “Did I hear my name mentioned?”
“Adam figured out the alphabetical connection,” came the reply. “And how’d you hear that over the sounds of the piano.”
Cass dimpled at Adam. “The letter ‘C’ has a very distinctive sound.” She didn’t bother to say that she had been watching for the Cartwrights or that she had played the piano very softly so she could hear what was being said. She also played extra softly to deliberately drive Franklin crazy. Cass, like her parents, had a warped sense of humor.
Al approached. “Where’s Franklin?”
Cass smirked. “He’s helping Bertha with the last load of stuff to go in the chuck wagon. Bertha just will not let anybody go hungry anywhere on ‘her’ ranch. I, of course, am not allowed to help. Why, I might hurt my poor little hands!” At this she rolled her eyes comically while she made her fingers into claws.
So, she is aware of Franklin’s overprotection. Adam gave her his lop-sided grin – the one that she found so attractive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ben walked up to Adam and then tipped his hat to Cass.
“Good morning,” he said with his usual smile. Cass seriously doubted that the patriarch of the Cartwrights was able to ever look angry. He was an intensely handsome man with smile lines around his mouth. His eyes seemed to always be crinkled in happiness.
A commotion by the barn distracted them before Cass could even open her mouth. A crowd of men had gathered around what looked like another chuck wagon – some men looked confused and some were just grinning.
“Uh-oh,” Ben remarked. “Hop Sing didn’t know how long we’d be gone and he never wants us to go hungry. Looks like he’s arrived with a load of food.”
Franklin stomped out the door. “Bertha’s mad. We’ve got the chuck wagon all packed with food, and now we have yet another chuck wagon with an angry Chinaman at the reins.”
Cass loved a good stand-off. “My money’s on the fact that Bertha and Hop Sing are gonna butt heads over who gets to feed everybody. I’m gonna watch this!”
“You most certainly are not!” exclaimed Franklin. “You haven’t even touched the harp today, and you need to practice.”
“Oh, get over it! I wouldn’t miss this for anything!” snorted Cass as she vaulted the porch railing and ran toward the two chuck wagons, petticoats flying and losing one moccasin in the process. Both Adam and Ben noted that she ran with the fluid grace of a deer. Ben and Adam left Franklin to pout while they followed Cass.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cass shoved her way through the large group of men and took in the scene. Bertha had her hands on her ample hips, and Hop Sing’s arms were folded across his chest. They glared at each other.
“Mistah Ben,” began Hop Sing, “nobody but Hop Sing is good enough to feed all these men.”
“Everybody here knows that I’m the best cook on this ranch,” Bertha countered.
Ben came up with a good solution. Or so he thought.
“The Ponderosa crew will eat from Hop Sing’s wagon. The Triple Nichols crew will eat from Bertha’s wagon.”
Hop Sing and Bertha glared at Ben and, in unison, gave a resounding, “No!”
Hoss, Cass decided, came up with the better idea. Hoss was a gentle man, but he spoke with authority and wisdom.
“I know for a fact that Hop Sing done cooked a whole mess o’ fried chicken. It’s gonna be a hot day, and the cold chicken will be welcome. Miz Bertha, what you got that would taste good and cool us down?”
Bertha smiled. “I made gazpacho. I got ice settin’ around it to keep it cold. It be healthy with all them vegetables in it.”
Hop Sing looked suspiciously at Bertha. “What is ‘gazpacho’?”
Bertha stuck out her lower lip. “Cold vegetable soup with spices in it. I could o’ made fried chicken, but it’s full of grease. Not healthy.”
Cass touched Hoss’s arm, feeling the strong muscles as she did so. She whispered, “Bertha’s gazpacho is delicious.”
Hoss laughed. “Ain’t nobody around these parts who kin make fried chicken like Hop Sing. No grease a’tall.” He paused. “I want Miz Bertha to taste the chicken. Then Hop Sing kin taste the soup.”
Nobody moved. Bertha’s lower lip stuck out farther. Hop Sing’s arms tightened across his chest.
Adam muttered, “Somebody’s feelings are bound to be hurt by this.”
Suddenly, Bertha turned, grabbed a cup, and dipped it into the large pot of “cold soup.” She walked halfway toward Hop Sing.
Hop Sing reached under the cloth that covered a huge platter of fried chicken and withdrew an enormous chicken breast. He met Bertha at the halfway point and traded the chicken for the soup.
Bertha looked at the size of the chicken breast. “Did you cut this off a turkey? It’s huge!” She knew that a chicken breast dries out quicker than any other part of the bird. She scrutinized the item.
Hop Sing looked smug. “Ponderosa have big chickens.”
Hop Sing looked into the cup of gazpacho. It was tomato-based and had cut-up vegetables in in. And some spices floating around in the broth.
Bertha took a bite of the chicken, and the juice fairly exploded in her mouth. Taken by surprise, she checked the chicken in her hand to make sure that it wasn’t raw. It was fully cooked and still crisp.
Grudgingly, she took another bite and tasted a spice that she herself never used before. She admitted to herself that Hop Sing’s fried chicken was absolutely delicious. And she said so.
“I done cooked a lot o’ fried chicken in my time, but I ain’t never tasted anything like this before. It’s delicious. I reck’n you win the contest.” Only the Nichols family knew how difficult defeat was for their beloved cook. She was absolutely honest.
Slowly, Hop Sing took a sip from his mug. Then he took a bigger sip. The texture was smooth and hearty, and all the vegetables’ flavors had melded together perfectly. Plus, the soup was very cold. It could be eaten with a spoon or poured into a cup. It was versatile and very pleasing to Hop Sing’s palate. Plus, there was some kind of spice that he knew nothing about that added some “zip” to the whole concoction.
“Hop Sing most distressed to say this soup velly good. This cook never taste such thing before. You win contest.”
As with the Nichols family, the Cartwright’s knew how hard it was for their cook to admit defeat. Hop Sing was every bit as proud of his culinary skills as Bertha apparently was of her own skills.
Hoss watched the cooks’ faces. He was a born referee – as Cass had noted before.
“Why don’t we take both wagons and share all the food? Lookin’ at more’n eight thousand head o’ cattle will make us hungry as bears! Now let’s get started and head to where we can do our jobs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As Cass headed toward the house, she looked back. Hop Sing and Bertha were standing close together and were smiling – obviously comparing recipes. She watched Hoss as he was swinging into his saddle with his brothers and father, and she looked at him through different eyes. He was a mountain of a man but had gentle abilities and a certain intuition on how to handle potentially volatile situations. Maybe he wasn’t the most outwardly handsome of the Cartwright clan, but there was much to be said about his heart and soul. A gal just couldn’t go wrong with a man like Hoss.
Cass’s quiet reflections were interrupted by Franklin’s angry, “Cassandra! Come back into the house right now! And pick up the item that you were wearing on your foot instead of the shoes that you should have been wearing!” Franklin hated anything that had to do with Indians, and the fact that Cass was wearing Indian-made moccasins inflamed him. “The harp is waiting for you, so get in here and practice!”
Hoss and Bart, the last men to leave, turned and looked at Cass. Her shoulders were slumped and her head was down. She slipped her foot into the lost moccasin and walked slowly toward the house.
“Franklin is pushing Cass into setting a wedding date,” Bart remarked. “I hope he drops dead before that happens.”
Hoss, who never wished that somebody would “drop dead,” sadly nodded in silent agreement. Nobody was aware of it, but he was quite attracted to Cass, but he also knew that she was attracted to Adam. Most women were……
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
By the time Bertha and Hop Sing had shared recipes and “secret ingredients” and had arrived at the site where the herd was grazing, the Cartwrights had picked out the cattle they intended to purchase. And there, sitting on the seat of Bertha’s wagon was a triumphant-looking Cass. Franklin was there also, but his face reflected controlled fury.
Ben was in deep conversation with Al and Bart, a broad smile on his face.
“I could have closed my eyes and just pointed at random at the beeves I want to buy. I don’t know when I’ve seen such fine livestock. Every one is a winner. Except for that bull over there.” Ben pointed in the direction of a huge bull, and an ugly one to boot, which was keeping the rest of the herd agitated.
Al and Bart were exceedingly proud of their herd, but at the mention of the “ugly bull,” they looked woefully at each other.
“That’s Thor,” Al admitted.
Adam joined the conversation. “Looks like a troublemaker.”
“Well, he is. Sort of. You just have to know how to handle him. Look around at the calves. He sired most of ’em.” Bart was proud of his crop of calves. And rightfully so. Except for their weird coloration, they were sturdy little creatures, healthy and bright-eyed.
Cass approached with mugs of coffee – with ice in each mug. This was one of Bertha’s ideas that Hop Sing happened to like. He was putting ice in the coffee he served as men lined up for a drink.
“Hey, this coffee’s really good. And it’s cold but ain’t lost none of the flavor!” Hoss was enthusiastic.
“Hoss, what do you think about that bull over there?” Ben pointed.
“I’d have t’ see ‘im close-up,” Hoss replied.
Al walked toward his horse and swung into the saddle. He didn’t look happy. He looked even more unhappy when he returned – without Thor. He sent a reluctant Bart out to do the job, but Bart came back alone. Several men from both the Ponderosa and Triple Nichol tried their best, but the results were the same. Thor, indeed, had what Cass had referred to as an “attitude problem.” The bull raged and bellowed, ducked and dodged ropes aimed at his head or his feet. He even attacked the riders with the intention of goring either horse or rider or both.
“Cass?” Al’s eyes were pleading. Al knew that Thor was the best bull around and that the Cartwrights wouldn’t be sorry to borrow the animal when needed.
Cass looked amused. “Oh, all right.”
Turning to Franklin, she asked to borrow his horse. But Franklin shook his head.
“Oh, no! You can’t go riding after that animal. You might hurt your hands.” He didn’t mention the fact that Cass might be killed by the great beast.
Cass snorted in contempt. She grabbed the closest horse and climbed onto the saddle, one bare leg showing. Hoss smothered a smile. She obviously didn’t listen to everything that Franklin told her.
Little Joe walked up to see what was going on. “What’s Cass up to?”
“She’s fetching Thor,” Al said happily.
Joe did a double-take. “Nobody’s been able to catch him yet, and we’re all men! And you’re sending a woman out to do what top hands can’t do?” He was incredulous.
Bart sipped his coffee. “Just watch.”
Very slowly, Cass approached the agitated herd, singing softly as she closed the gap. The milling cattle began to calm down – some even tucked their legs under them and laid down on the ground. The more Cass sang, the calmer things became.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“What’s she doin’?” Hoss was puzzled.
“She’s singing at Thor. She hasn’t taken her eyes off him since she mounted up.” Al’s eyes danced.
“Don’t you mean that she’s singing ‘to’ Thor?” This from Little Joe.
Al spoke. “Well, she’s keeping eye contact with Thor so she’s singing at him. The singing calms down the heifers and some of the steers that Thor has boxed up in one area, so she’s singing to the whole bunch.”
“What a waste of a good voice,” Franklin growled. He was ignored.
“Exactly what is she singing?” Adam asked.
“Brahms’ Lullaby,” Al and Bart said in unison. “Watch Thor’s eyes.”
Closer and closer to the big bull went Cass, still singing. Thor looked at her and snorted. He pawed the ground. Cass continued to sing, and the great bull began to hold still, a glazed look in his eyes. Very slowly, and still singing, Cass put a rope gently over the beast’s horns and led him away from the other cattle. Thor became so docile that his legs wobbled and he appeared to be falling asleep. The steady pressure on the rope kept him moving.
Cass’s concentration never wavered. She continued to sing even as she brought Thor up to her brothers and to the Cartwrights. Franklin chose the safety of the chuck wagon. In the years that he had known Cass, he had never been on a real ranch much less been around a bull with an attitude.
Cass nodded to her brothers, indicating that it was safe to approach the seemingly-in-a-trance bull. With some trepidation, the group of men drew near to inspect this animal closer. Cass never stopped singing, and Thor remained docile while he was inspected from head to toe. Hoss, who was good with animals to begin with, even opened the bull’s mouth and peered inside. Thor was definitely not an ‘old’ bull but was actually much younger than he appeared. And he was, in fact, quite ugly – looking more like a multi-colored quilt than an animal that one would use for breeding purposes.
Ben asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “If a lullaby can affect Thor this way, why didn’t your top hands just sing to him.”
Bart shrugged. “There’s something in the timbre of Cass’s voice that nobody else has. Everybody knows that, on a trail drive, singing any kind of tune when the beeves are bedded down has a calming effect. But Cass can sing any time of the day and have the same calming effect.”
Al sighed. “I tried singing to Thor. Or at Thor. He charged at me, my horse threw me, and I landed in a pile of rocks. Broke my leg in the process.”
Cass was still singing but her eyes danced with glee.
“And,” Adam began, “if we ‘borrow’ Thor, how do we get him to the Ponderosa and back again?”
“Oh,” Al laughed, “he can be driven easily as long as he has some of his harem and steers with him. It’s just separating him from the herd that makes him crazy.” Then “What do you think about ‘borrowing’ him.”
“I’m in favor of giving it a try – with the caveat that, if it doesn’t work out well, we can cancel our contract with regards to moving him from ranch to ranch.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Al grinned. “We’ll draw up the contract and the bill of sale for the cattle you bought today. But we’ll do it later. I’m starving to death. And Bart won’t do any business if he’s hungry too. And, of course, Cass will have to sign the contract.”
Hands were shaken and the deal was done. With a nod from Bart to Cass, Thor was led away with Cass still singing. She took him back to the exact spot where he had stood originally and gently removed the rope from around his horns. Still singing, she got far enough away and then sped quickly back to the chuck wagon.
For a few seconds, Thor stood still. Only for a few seconds. Then he exploded into his regular snorting, pawing, bellowing self and began agitating the herd until he was sure he had picked out his harem and some extra steers. No other bulls were allowed in the chosen group.
As the Cartwrights and the Nichols approached the chuck wagons – which were conveniently located side by side – Franklin’s voice could be heard.
“What you did was positively unladylike and bordered on indecency. You rode astride with a bare leg showing in front of all these men, and you ignored me when I told you to get rid of those moccasins!”
Cass’s reply? “Franklin, you’re a jackass!”
Al looked Ben in the eye. “Cass is a very reasonable woman. Except when she’s being stubborn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Cass had a bittersweet look on her face as she packed her suitcase in preparation for heading back to Philadelphia. On one hand, she looked forward to being able to play her beloved musical instruments and continue to aspire to be more than just a singing understudy, but on the other hand, she would miss all the friends she had made in and around Carson City. She especially would miss the Cartwrights – she had grown to love all of them dearly. She knew that Little Joe and Hoss had crushes on her and that Adam, under the right circumstances, might actually fall in love with her – but who could be sure? Time had allowed her to feel comfortable calling Ben by his first name, and she suspected that the senior Cartwright loved her – in a fatherly way. With her own father in Wyoming, she often turned to Ben for wisdom in certain situations and for advice in others.
Franklin was becoming more strict and more judgmental and controlling of everything that Cass did. But she tried to tell herself that he loved her and only wanted the best for her. She endured his constant criticisms and did what he told her to do. This trip to Philadelphia was his idea – the Orchestra had specifically asked that she join them and play the harp. And maybe the violin. She didn’t need to pack either instrument because they would be provided for her on her arrival.
Almost each piece of clothing that she touched reminded her of specific incidents that were dear to her. And they all had something to do with her interactions with at least one Cartwright. And dear Clete.
She touched her faded bib overalls and remembered seeing Clete for the first time when he had brought the Cartwrights to Triple Nichols. What a joyous reunion that had been! Clete didn’t care what she wore – he accepted her unconditionally. But she had to leave the overalls behind. A city like Philadelphia just wouldn’t approve of such a garment according to Franklin. She folded the overalls and tucked them into a drawer. Her boots stood in the fast-emptying armoire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Memories. Like one with Little Joe. She smiled as she remembered the day he came galloping into the front yard, yelling her name.
“Cass! Cass! We need you at the Ponderosa!”
Little Joe never even got down off Cochise. Frantic that something was wrong, Cass sprinted for the door and came close to breaking her neck as she jumped from the porch to the ground, never even bothering to use the stairs.
“What’s wrong? Who’s hurt? Do we need to get a doctor?” Cass’s questions came in a rush.
Joe swung his leg over the saddle horn and grinned slyly. “No emergency involving the family. It’s Thor. We can’t catch him to brand him. I just wanted to see how fast you could run.”
“Little Joe Cartwright! Wipe that grin off your face! That’s not funny!” Cass’s heart was still pounding. “You just about scared the life out of me!”
Joe laughed out loud. Cass’s heartbeat began to slow down.
“Adam sings. Get him to catch Thor.” Cass didn’t know whether to be angry at Joe or to laugh along with him.
“Adam tried. Pa tried. Even Hoss tried. Thor just got madder and madder and tried to attack them.” Joe couldn’t stop laughing.
“You’re just about as funny as a ghoul in a graveyard at midnight.” Having said this, Cass found a smile playing about her lips. Then, “Let me change clothes, saddle a horse and I’ll go back with you.”
“You most certainly will not!” Franklin stood on the porch. “Thor belongs to the Cartwrights for the time being. He doesn’t need another brand. Let the high-and-mighty Cartwrights handle their own problems. Branding cattle is not something a lady should be involved with anyway.” Franklin grabbed Cass’s arm.
Joe glared at Franklin as Cass wavered slightly. “We’ve branded the cattle we bought from Al and Bart. Only Thor is left and he needs a double brand – one for Triple Nichols and one for the Ponderosa. All Cass has to do is rope Thor. She doesn’t have to stay for the branding.” Pause. “Of course, Hop Sing will be disappointed. He’s making Bertha’s gazpacho for lunch.”
Cass made up her mind. Wrenching free from Franklin’s grasp, she headed toward her room to change clothes. Franklin’s look was one of sheer anger. But he considered that he was a lover, not a fighter. Even though Little Joe was much younger and smaller, Franklin doubted he could win a fight with this young upstart. The wisest choice he could’ve made caused him to stomp back into the house and head for a glass of liquor. He returned to sit in a rocking chair on the porch and glare at Joe from a safe distance.
In a flash, Cass was dressed for riding. “I’ll be back sometime after lunch,” she called to a fuming Franklin. One of the hired hands had heard the whole conversation and had a horse already saddled. Joe and Cass rode away in a cloud of dust.
The end result was that Thor got his double brand and that Cass teased Adam, Hoss, and Ben mercilessly as she ate the gazpacho, praising Hop Sing for getting the ingredients exactly as Bertha had obviously taught him. Then Cass excused herself from the table.
“Time to go home,” she said, almost wistfully. “I have a piano and a harp to work with. I need to practice every day to keep my fingers supple.”
Little Joe chose to ride with her. His face was serious.
“Why do you let Franklin treat you so bad? You deserve so much better. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Franklin wants only the best for me. He says that I have more potential than anyone he’s ever met. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad. He means well.”
“I’d treat you like a queen,” Joe said softly. “You could practice singing and playing your music. We could enjoy other things where you could just be yourself. We could go riding every day or have picnics or swim in the creek. I’d be a really good match for you.”
“Joe, you know that I love you dearly. But I’m not ‘in love’ with you. I admire your wild and free spirit and adore your sense of humor and your contagious laugh. Your practical jokes are hilarious. But I need to follow my gut instincts – and they say to stay with Franklin and continue my musical career.”
Joe’s soft eyes showed that he understood. But he added one more thing. “Follow your gut instincts. But don’t forget to follow your heart.”
Cass leaned over and kissed Joe on his cheek. “I’ll remember that.” Then, with a gleam in her eye, she nudged her horse forward into a gallop. “Last one to my house is a rotten egg.”
Joe gave a Rebel yell and surged into a gallop. Nobody was a rotten egg – it was a tie.
Cass ran her hands over the soft leather of the riding pants she had worn that day. She folded the blouse, too, and tucked pants and blouse into a drawer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
She touched a light yellow dress and decided that it, too, should remain in the armoire. Franklin had told her that it was too “plain” to wear “Back East.” Cass looked at the dress and remembered when she had first worn it.
Cass had raised “Felicity” from a filly. Now Felicity was in foal and seemed to be in some kind of trouble. Even Al and Bart agreed that something was just “not right” with the animal’s labor. As if of one mind, their first thought was to fetch Hoss. He would know just what to do because he was so in tune with nature and with its cycles of life and of death. The miracle of birth was something he knew well – from livestock to pets and even to humans. Cass remembered the story of a mare and a woman who gave birth literally in minutes of each other, and Hoss was the only human there to help both of them.
Time seemed to drag as Cass sat with Felicity who would get up and then settle back down into the hay. Her groans were pitiful to hear. When Cass finally heard the sounds of hoof beats in the front yard, she ran outside and grabbed Hoss’s hand.
“Hurry, Hoss. Felicity’s in terrible pain. Something’s wrong!”
Still holding Cass’s hand, Hoss strode quickly into the barn, his long legs keeping a pace that half-dragged Cass behind him. But he slowed down quickly as he entered the barn door. He began to speak softly and quietly to Felicity as he approached her. She backed away from him, her brown eyes full of pain.
“Whoa, gal,” Hoss crooned. “I’m here to he’p you and your baby. Just stand still and let ole Hoss see why you’re a-frettin’ so.”
Cass watched from a distance and was amazed to see that Felicity became noticeably calmer as Hoss continued to croon to her. Soon he was stroking her velvety nose, then her neck, then her withers, then the bulge of her belly on the side and the underside. His huge hands ran gently over her rump and down the length of her tail.
“Cass,” he continued to croon, “we need t’ wrap her tail so’s we can get it out o’ the way. I need t’ be able t’ see what I’m doin’. A sheet torn in strips’ll do fine.”
Cass bolted for the house, yanked the sheets off her own bed, and began tearing them into strips even as she sprinted back to the barn.
Felicity gave a squeal and settled back down miserably into the hay. Hoss was still crooning softly to her as he continued to run his hands ever so gently across the swollen belly. Without looking, he knew that Cass was there.
“Come on in and wrap her tail from top t’ bottom as best ya kin,” he said softly.
“What’s wrong with her, Hoss?” Cass asked as she began wrapping the strips, tears stinging her eyes.
“It ain’t quite her time right now. And that baby is tryin’ to turn around head-first like he oughtta be. The pain’s from his movin’ and from those contractions all at the same time. We need t’ help her turn ‘im t’ the right position.”
“How do we do that?” Cass was frightened but trusted Hoss implicitly.
“Well, she ain’t gonna like it, but we need to roll her on her back for a few minutes. That foal’ll jest natur’lly try to keep turnin’ hisself when he has extra room.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Cassandra!” Franklin said loudly. “Let Hoss tend to the horse. How unladylike to be wallowing in the hay at the back end of a horse!”
Hoss glanced at Cass and was taken aback by the absolute fury on her face. Her eyes were blazing fire and her lips had thinned into almost nothingness. But her tone was quiet.
“Franklin, Hoss and I are in the right place. And if you don’t get gone, I’ll take Hoss’s gun and shoot you full of holes!”
Both Hoss and Franklin gaped in surprise. Neither man had ever seen Cass so furious before. And Franklin wasn’t at all sure that he wouldn’t get shot. He did as Cass had told him – he “got gone.” And apparently he told Al and Bart about this incident because, when they came into the barn, they asked only one question: “Need help?” Hoss would shake his head and then the brothers would leave quietly. They knew their sister well. She had a temper that could be worse than Thor’s.
Felicity did not want to roll over on her back. Cass began singing “Brahms’ Lullaby” and Hoss used his great strength to position Felicity. Then he put his hands on both sides of her belly.
“I feel the baby movin’ ’round. He’s tryin’ to change positions. But we can’t keep this mama on her back too long. In a few minutes, we’ll stand her up.”
Cass continued singing but remained alert to Hoss’s every move. How gentle he was. How calming he was – to both herself and Felicity. Hoss is an incredible man – not a diamond-in-the-rough as I had thought at first. He’s simply a perfect diamond.
For an hour, the drill was to stand Felicity up for several minutes, let her rest in the hay for several minutes, then roll her on her back for several minutes. Sweat was pouring from man, woman, and mom-to-be.
Hoss’s face brightened. “He’s in the right position now. All we can do is t’ wait for him t’ come out.”
Cass smiled brightly. “How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”
Hoss chuckled. “Only a colt would be so ornery. A filly would be easier to deal with.”
So man and woman began their vigil, keeping their voices low and calm.
“Hoss?” Cass looked into a pair of blue eyes. “Have you ever been in love? I mean really in love?”
As he stroked Felicity, Hoss thought and then answered. “Once. Her name was Emily.”
“Why didn’t you marry her?”
“She was very sick and died.”
Cass’s face was sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Hoss. You’re gonna make some lucky woman very happy when the time is right.”
There was a long period of silence. Every now and then, Felicity would groan and change positions.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Hoss? Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure ya kin.”
“What does being in love feel like?”
Hoss rocked back on his heels. “You and Franklin are gonna git married. Don’t you know the answer to that question?”
Shrugging her shoulders, Cass answered. “Franklin has been part of my life for a long time. He’s been good for my career and has been good to me.”
Hoss’s eyes widened. “Good t’ you? All I hear is that he talks down to you, criticizes you, controls you. And you allow it. That just ain’t right! He’s all the time sayin’ to act like a lady. You are a lady. You have a career. You’re stronger than you know. Yet you put up with him. Why?”
“I’m afraid of being lonely. I want to be loved. Franklin loves me. And I don’t have to take the chance of being rejected.” There, she’d admitted her deepest feelings.
“I’ve loved someone. And I’ve been rejected. And there’s been a few times when I was loved but didn’t love back. Love has gotta feel right for both people. They need to follow their hearts.”
Felicity interrupted the conversation by having a huge contraction. “It’s her time. Kin ya come back here with me and hold her tail outta the way?” Pause. “No, you can’t do that. You’ll mess up your pretty dress.”
Cass snorted. Off came her dress, leaving her in a light shift, camisole and pantaloons. She hung her dress over a far part of the stall. Hoss almost fell over in surprise as Cass sat next to him. Hoss blushed, a fact which only endeared him to Cass a hundred times over. Cass sang and Hoss crooned to the laboring Felicity.
Soon, two little hooves and a nose appeared in a gush of fluid which drenched Hoss and Cass. Neither said a word but kept watch as, eventually, the whole body emerged. And, just as Hoss had predicted, the foal was a colt. Hoss cleared its nose and then spoke to Felicity who had turned around to see what this “thing” was that had just appeared.
“Clean ‘im up, mama. And, when he stands up, feed ‘im.”
Cass held her breath. She had no idea if Felicity would accept this new creature or not. She and Hoss watched as the colt began trying to stand on wobbly legs. Felicity licked him all over and kept knocking him down, but he kept getting back up. Finally, on unsteady legs, instinct drove him to his mama’s side. It wasn’t long before he was drinking milk hungrily.
Quietly and slowly, Hoss took Cass’s hand and led her out of the stall. Mother and colt needed some quiet time.
Cass, in her excitement, flung her arms around Hoss’s neck. “You did it! You turned that colt around and helped him into the world! I love you, Hoss!”
In came Al, Bart and Franklin. Cass, in her excitement, barely heard Hoss’s “I love you, too.” She missed the look on his face as she released Hoss from her stranglehold.
“Look! Look! Hoss brought Felicity through the birth safe and sound!”
Al looked at Cass as she stood happily in her wet underthings. Bart smothered a snicker. Franklin was horrified.
“Cass, get dressed immediately! You never should be seen in your intimate apparel!”
“Too late now,” Cass responded as she flashed Franklin a distinct I-don’t-care look.
“But…but… Even I have never seen you in those things.” Franklin was losing control.
Cass flashed a serious look. “And, at the rate you’re going, you never will!”
Discretion being the better part of valor, Franklin returned quickly to the house.
Gently, Hoss wrapped a blanket around Cass’s shoulders. He didn’t want her to catch cold, God bless him.
“What should we name him, Hoss?” Cass looked again into gentle eyes.
“Well, he’s kinda special. Nope, he’s basic’ly a miracle.”
Nodding her head, Cass laughed. “That’s his name. ‘Miracle’.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Memories flooded through Cass’s mind as she touched one particular dress. Just shy of being called “formal,” this dress was made of a soft, clingy green material with a low-cut, fitted bodice with tiny, off-the-shoulder straps. She wore this dress when Triple Nichols hosted their first party, complete with a small orchestra. Hop Sing and Bertha had outdone themselves making different kinds of punch and a huge amount of “edibles.”
From the moment the Cartwrights walked through the door, Cass’s eyes were glued to Adam. How very handsome he looked in his striped pants, crisp white shirt, string tie and jacket. Of course, to be fair, the other Cartwrights looked handsome also, but Cass had eyes only for Adam.
“You’re gawking,” hissed Franklin.
“Am not,” Cass retorted as she stepped forward to greet the four arrivals.
Adam had extended both his hands to Cass as she approached and, when she took his hands, she actually trembled slightly.
“You look particularly beautiful tonight,” Adam said softly as he let his eyes run up and down her body appreciatively. He touched the gold necklace which hung slightly above her bodice, and the mere touch of his fingers on her skin gave her goosebumps.
Having been to so many “high-society” parties in the East, Cass knew how to “work” a room. Her warm smile and genuine interest in people endeared her, even to wives who had the tendency to be jealous. She had a mind like a steel trap and remembered all the guests’ names, what they did for a living, and even how many children they had. And, when the band began to play, she and Franklin made a lovely couple as they danced. But Cass was aware at every moment as to what Adam was doing and who he was talking to or dancing with. She felt jealousy for the first time as she saw Adam with his arms around other women as he danced in perfect rhythm to the music.
This was one time when Franklin stopped being controlling. He had made sure, since his arrival in Carson City (and during his visits to Virginia City) that everyone became familiar with the name “Cassandra Nichols,” and what a famous musician and opera sensation she was in the East. Of course, he stretched the truth somewhat, but Cass wasn’t aware of that. She would have been quite angry with him if she had known. Under the circumstances of this party, Franklin could hardly complain when Cass danced with other men. And dance she did -partly because the men wanted to brag about dancing with a “famous opera singer” and partly because she was an excellent dancer.
Unfortunately, not all the men had a sense of rhythm. Cass bravely smiled as her toes got stepped on or if she had to try to dance completely against the music. Her eyes found Adam’s, and he winked at her as though he knew she was having trouble. When she made her way to the punch bowl, having to gently refuse offers to dance as she headed toward the table, Adam was at her side. He flashed her his wonderful lop-sided grin. Her heart went “thump!”
“How’re your toes holding out?” he whispered conspiratorially.
“I’d love to put these little piggies right smack dab in the punch bowl,” she answered back in a whisper.
Adam chuckled – a sound that started deep in his barrel chest and escaped through closed lips. It was a most attractive sound that made Cass dimple in return.
“Oh, no,” Cass whispered again. “Here comes Albert Finnegan. If I dance with him one more time, I’ll be crippled for life!”
Adam took Cass’s punch cup from her hand. “May I have the pleasure of this dance, Miss Nichols?” He bowed from the waist.
“Why, Mr. Cartwright. I would be delighted.” Cass dropped a deep curtsy.
There was no doubt about it: Adam could waltz flawlessly. When his hand went to the small of her back and he held her other hand in his, Cass prayed that she could die right then – and die of pure happiness. She wasn’t dancing, she was gliding across the floor as though her feet were on air. Adam was a perfect leader – strong and in perfect rhythm. The pressure of his hands as he swirled and turned let Cass know exactly where he was going. Her skin prickled as she gazed into his eyes, and she just couldn’t stop smiling. When the waltz ended, Cass was truly out of breath.
“Do you need a breath of fresh air?” Adam queried.
All Cass could do was to nod her assent. Adam took her elbow and steered her out the door into the moonlight. The early-morning rain had settled the dust and made the air smell fresh and clean. The flowers in bloom added their sweet scent.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Making their way around the multitude of horses and buggies, Adam and Cass stood under a bower of vines. The moon was full. The two stood in silence for a minute, listening to the distant sound of the band and the closer sounds of crickets and frogs.
“Did I tell you that you look particularly beautiful tonight?” Adam asked as he looked into Cass’s sparkling eyes.
“No, you didn’t,” Cass lied. “What an ungentlemanly thing to not mention.”
Adam laughed heartily, and put his arm around Cass’s shoulders. Sparks went through her body.
“You’re a very good dancer.” This from Adam.
“That’s because you’re an excellent leader.”
Adam’s hand tightened slightly on Cass’s shoulder. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
“No, not always.”
Adam turned Cass so that she was standing face-to-face with him. “You’re the whole package, Cass. You have the looks and the personality that attract people to you. You’re smart, you’re fun, you’re witty. You’re strong in your own right, and you have a wonderful career.”
Cass gazed into Adam’s eyes and saw the fire there. She tilted her head back slightly to receive the kiss that she knew was coming. She felt Adam’s fingers under her chin.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, “but I won’t. You’re a woman engaged to another man.”
Boom! In an instant, things had changed. Cass was shocked and disappointed.
“Cass, Cass, why do you stay with Franklin?” Adam’s eyes and face were serious. “Why do you let him treat you the way he does? He controls almost everything you do. He has no sense of humor. Do you ever laugh with him or just sit with him in quiet conversation? How often do you stand up to him when he criticizes you?”
Cass said nothing. Already Little Joe and Hoss had said basically the same things to her.
“You have so much to give, Cass. But you’re giving what you have to a man who doesn’t appreciate you. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Finally, Cass spoke. “I’ve been with Franklin for several years. He wasn’t always this way, but I guess I gave him too much free rein. I’m just worn down now. Maybe things’ll get better when we’re married.” The last sentence was more of an optimistic question than a statement.
“I can’t tell you what to do. But, if you listen closely, your heart will guide you on the right path. Listen to your heart, Cass. Please.”
A voice boomed from out of the darkness. “I should have known that I’d find you two out here. I’ve been watching you make googly eyes at each other all night. Cass, come back to the party immediately. I’ve promised everyone that you’ll play the piano for them. And, Adam, you leave Cass alone or there’ll be trouble.” Franklin now was standing close to Adam and Cass. Adam’s eyes met Franklin’s and held a steady gaze.
“Don’t threaten me,” Adam growled.
Franklin’s retort: “That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
With that, Franklin took Cass’s arm and propelled her back towards the house. And Cass, as usual, allowed it. Adam knew he could’ve done something, but Cass’s relationship with Franklin should be addressed only by Cass.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Clete, who had arrived late to the party, noticed that Cass seemed “different.” And not in a good way. He knew her so well and saw through the fake smile she had plastered across her face. When he saw the grip that Franklin had on her arm, he sidled up to the man and whispered, “If you don’t let go of her right now, you’ll have a broken arm.”
Franklin’s smile wavered but he did let go of Cass’s arm.
“Are you okay?” Clete asked as Cass kept walking toward the band. He smiled as he whispered to her, pretending a happiness he didn’t feel.
“Precious Clete. You know me well. I’m okay.” Cass took extra-long steps and stepped up to the piano. First, she talked to the band members, and then she addressed the guests.
“I understand that I’ve been volunteered to play a song for you, but the song I’ve chosen is not one that the band is familiar with. As much as I hate to have a ‘captive audience’, you’re kinda of stuck with me playing a solo.”
There was light laughter as Cass sat down and pulled the piano bench close to the piano. She let her fingers run lightly over the keys as she finished talking.
“This is my favorite piano piece. It was written not long ago by a very talented man named Franz Liszt and is called ‘Liebestraum’.” I’m not sure why he gave it a German name, but he did – it means ‘Dream of Love’.”
Al and Bart looked at each other and then looked at Clete. “Liebestraum” was indeed a favorite of Cass’s, but she usually played it when she was unhappy or upset. It always had a calming influence on her.
To the guests, the first minute or so of the music sounded fine. But to Al and Bart’s trained ears, Cass was “off rhythm” and some of the chords weren’t exactly right. Cass wasn’t suffering from stage fright but seemed to be distracted.
Al disappeared momentarily and then stood next to Cass, his violin in hand. He began to play along with her. Very quickly, Bart appeared with his violin, and stood next to his twin. Cass allowed them to play a “bridge” without her and then she joined in. Her face relaxed and her smile was truly genuine as she gently swayed to the music. The music gathered, swelled, and then faded slowly. She rose, kissed each brother on the cheek, and then all three of them bowed their heads to thunderous applause. Was it the lighting, or did Cass actually have a glow of her own? Or had she worked out something that had been bothering her?
The last waltz of the evening was being played, and Cass danced – not with Franklin, but with Adam.
“You did yourself proud,” Adam smiled. “Brava.”
The sparkle in her eyes had returned and she blushed slightly but said nothing. She just enjoyed being in Adam’s arms and basking in the warmth of his smile.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
There was one more dress that had a “memory” attached to it. The “memory” was that of a private conversation with one of the wisest men she knew: Ben Cartwright. The conversation took place at the Ponderosa one early evening and happened quite serendipity. Cass had walked outside, alone, and found Ben sitting in a chair on the porch. He was smoking his pipe and gazing at the stars.
“Would you mind having some company for a few minutes?” Cass asked politely. She was subdued, which was unusual for her. She was thinking back to a few nights before when Franklin had done the unmentionable to her. He said it was because he loved her, and she felt guilty for allowing it.
Ben stood and pulled a chair close to his. “A man always is happy to keep company with a beautiful lady. Please, sit down.”
“Why, Ben Cartwright! You’re as much of a flirt as your sons are!”
“And where do you think their flirtatious nature came from to begin with?”
Man and woman laughed and then sat in a comfortable silence.
“Ben, you and my father are the wisest men I know. My father isn’t here to talk to, so would you mind if I ask you some rather…um…delicate questions?”
Puffing on his pipe, Ben answered, “I’m quite flattered. Go right ahead and ask.”
Taking a deep breath and holding Ben’s hand in both of her own, Cass began. “I’ve been so involved with my music and my singing that I never had a beau until Franklin came along. I’m finding out now that I know nothing about love. I want to know how a woman knows she’s ‘in love’. Is it just good ‘chemistry’ when your heart pounds and your skin prickles when you’re with a certain man? Or is it the warmth that you feel inside, a happiness, that defines love?”
Ben relit his pipe. “Both.”
“Both?”
Smoke swirled around Ben’s head. “Being ‘in love’ means different things to different people. But when you get right down to it, ‘physical chemistry’ and warmth and happiness go hand-in-hand.”
Cass was quiet as she mulled these things over in her mind.
“I can make a poor analogy here, if it’ll help,” Ben said.
Cass nodded. “Please do.”
“Pretend that you’re walking into the finest restaurant in Philadelphia. You look at the menu and pick what really appeals to you. The meal is served and it looks delicious. Your mouth waters before you take your first bite. That’s a body’s chemical reaction. Once you begin to eat, you discover that the food doesn’t taste nearly as good as you thought it would. It wasn’t at all what you had expected. You derived no pleasure, no warmth, no happiness in eating it and, if you ever returned to that restaurant, you would never choose that particular meal again. Yet, as you leave the establishment, you see people eating exactly the same thing and thoroughly enjoying it. Their reactions are completely different than yours – you’re not wrong in what you felt and they’re not wrong in what they feel.”
Cass tilted her head to one side. “It’s like music. A certain composition can be played flawlessly but not touch a person’s heart. Or it can move another person to tears.”
Ben nodded but said nothing for a few minutes. Then, “Are you struggling with how you feel about somebody?” He didn’t mention Franklin’s name. He was too wise to do that.
“Sort of. Well, yes, I guess I am.”
“Love can’t be explained. It has to be felt. When ‘chemistry’ and warmth and happiness all come together, a person just knows that it feels right. Listen to your heart. It won’t lie.”
“But what if that person doesn’t love me back?”
“Loving someone is a risk, but it’s worth taking. If that love is not returned whole-heartedly, then it’s not meant to be.”
“What if a person loves you, but you don’t love them back?”
“Never lead anyone into thinking that you love them if you don’t – or are not sure. Wait until you know beyond a shadow of a doubt before you commit your life to someone you don’t love with all your heart. Yes, that person will hurt, but the pain is bearable and life goes on. That sounds harsh, but that’s the way it is.”
“So, following one’s heart and adding ‘chemistry’, warmth and happiness to the mix is how the whole deal works.” This was more of a statement from Cass than a question.
Rising from her chair, she put her arms around Ben’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. You’ve helped more than you know.” She paused. “I love you, you know.”
Ben smiled. “And I love you too. We all do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Several weeks passed by. Cass had sneaked off and gone back East to play with the Philadelphia Orchestra. She hadn’t said goodbye. Clete had informed them that this was quite typical of Cass. She abhorred saying goodbyes. And, yes, Franklin was with her. This last statement was met with groans from all the Cartwrights. Undoubtedly, she would marry that snake which would be such a waste of a wonderful woman. Each Cartwright, in his own way and at different times, had tried to counsel Cass but, in the end, her decisions were her decisions. Her laughter and her sassy mouth and her smile would be missed – by one Cartwright more than the others.
Cooler days and nights heralded the approach of Fall. Leaves were just beginning to turn colors, and the flowers were fast disappearing. This – and Spring – were the favorite time of year for everyone. The winds sweeping down from the Sierras brought a different scent and a welcome change from the humidity of the summer. There was much work to be done now on both the Ponderosa and Triple Nichols, so the two families saw little of each other. Thor had done his job, and it looked like the Ponderosa would have a bumper crop of calves this year. Getting Thor back to Triple Nichols had been a nightmare, but it got done. Now, Al and Bart were looking forward to their own big calving season.
Clete had gone to Carson City on an errand for Ben and, those errands being finished, happened to run into Bart Nichols who was lugging groceries out of the General Store.
“Looks like you got a load of food there,” Clete laughed as he watched Bart struggle with overflowing boxes.
“You could help me, you know,” came the reply.
Clete grinned. He had planned to help anyway but enjoyed teasing Bart. He grabbed a big box and lifted it into the wagon.
“Lordy, this is a lot of food!”
Bart grinned. “Somebody likes special foods more than other folks.”
“You mean…..?
Bart said nothing aloud, but his face gave away a secret. “Why don’t you and the Cartwrights come over for supper tomorrow night at about six o’clock?”
“We’ll be there!” was Clete’s hurried answer.
Bart’s wagon was loaded in no time. Clete galloped all the way back to the Ponderosa with a broad smile. He had a secret.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Clete stood at the front door and tried to compose himself. When he had accomplished that feat, he knocked. The door was opened by Little Joe who was busy munching an apple.
“Hiya, Clete. Come on in. I thought you would be in Carson City for longer than this. Did you get Pa’s errands tended to?”
“I did. And I ran into Bart Nichols while I was in town. Where’s Mr. Ben?”
“Right here,” came the answer as Ben called from behind his desk. “Pull up a chair and we can look over some figures in these books.”
Clete pulled up a chair by the large desk and made his mind concentrate on the ledger that Ben had put in front of him. He found everything to be completely in order.
“I heard you say that you ran into Bart. How’re things going at their ranch?” Ben closed the ledger.
“Oh, like us, they’re busy. Seems like Thor has been workin’ overtime there as well as here.” Clete laughed. “By the way, we’ve all been invited to supper over there tomorrow night at six o’clock.”
Ben frowned. “This isn’t really a good time to leave the Ponderosa. We’re so busy with chores and watching for early calves. We’re lucky that the wolves haven’t moved in on the herd yet. We need to keep it that way.”
Clete was persistent. “If we don’t go to supper, there’s no tellin’ when we’ll get the chance. ‘Sides, I’ll have to go all the way back to Carson City to tell them we can’t come.”
Ben thought a minute. “You’re right. This might be the best time, and I need you here to swap places with Red and let him come back and get some sleep. Pick a crew to take with you. I’ll see you later.”
Clete breathed a sigh of relief. And, as he headed towards the bunkhouse, he did a quick jig.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
As the Cartwrights neared the Nichols’ home, harp music could be heard.
“I thought that Al and Bart couldn’t play the harp,” Little Joe mused.
“They can’t,” Clete whooped as he nudged his horse into a gallop.
The Cartwrights were left looking at each other with puzzled faces. Then came the dawn of realization. Cass was back! They galloped up to the house and could no longer hear the harp. But the screech of “Cleeeete!” was unmistakable. Four grown men fairly jumped out of their saddles and banged into each other as they tried to be first going through the front door.
And there was Cass, plastered to Clete in her usual Clete-greeting position. Clete was laughing out loud and embracing his precious friend.
“Uh, Cass. Look behind you. We ain’t alone.”
When she realized that the Cartwrights were there, she let out a most-unladylike yell. Nobody had told her that these four men were the guests at the dinner table, and the table had not yet been set yet so as not to give the secret away by having so many extra table settings. Cass was under the impression that Clete was the sole guest. The look on her face was absolutely euphoric as she realized that Al and Bart had pulled off Triple Nichols’ biggest surprise.
Unwrapping herself quickly from Clete’s embrace, she hugged each Cartwright, murmuring each name as she did so. Her eyes were moist but the genuine sparkle was still there. She hugged Ben for a long time, loving the feeling of his arms around her. Loving the feeling of hearing his deep voice welcoming her home.
At last, she stood alone and glared at her brothers. “You two are sneaky and deceitful. And besides that, you’re mean as snakes!”
The brothers feigned being hurt. “What did we do?”
“It’s what you didn’t do, you dunderheads! You let me think that only Clete was the ‘guest’.” Cass feigned her own angry look, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “And here I stand in my overalls and moccasins and my hair is all a mess. You didn’t even tell me what time to expect company so I could look presentable!” She pinched Al’s cheek and tweaked Bart’s nose.
“Ow!” both men said in unison.
And then the laughter began. It went on for quite some time until Adam asked, “Where’s Franklin?” A hush set in as the men waited for an answer.
“Oh, him. I’ll tell you about him later. Let me go change clothes.”
Joe pulled Cass’s braided hair. “Stay like you are. We’re family – not guests.”
His words would prove to be prophetic.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Bertha had a big smile plastered all over her face as she quickly added place settings to the table. But where were the sounds in the kitchen coming from? Hop Sing began bringing in platters of food and, by the time he and Bertha were finished putting everything within reach, there was enough food to feed an army.
“Hop Sing!” Ben boomed. “You knew about this?”
Hop Sing cackled. “Velly big secret. Hop Sing keep quiet like little mouse.”
Cass turned to Bertha. “You could have warned me, you know.”
Bertha gave a Hop-Sing cackle. “Velly big secret.” With that, both cooks disappeared into the kitchen.
Bart bowed his head and returned thanks for the blessings of the day, the food, the friendship, and for Cass’s safe return home. And then everybody started asking questions of Cass as plates were served.
Cass answered each question as best she could. “I had to go back to Philadelphia to play some specific musical numbers. We all have our jobs to fulfill, and this one was mine. No, I didn’t say goodbye to any of you. I never say goodbye. Clete undoubtedly told you that. I loved being back with the orchestra – it’s grown a lot. Now there’s a string section, a woodwind section, a horn section, and a percussion section. We practiced a lot and were very proud when we received so many standing ovations. I’m proud to say that our schedule is completely booked up.” She stopped long enough to jam some roast beef and potatoes into her mouth.
“When do you go back?” Ben asked.
Cass was evasive. “I’m not sure. Music is my life. Forget the singing. I was…er…fired from my understudy position.”
Ben dropped his fork. “You were fired? That’s hard to imagine. What happened?”
Cass smirked. “Let’s just say that a good slap on the face to the operatic diva was good for my soul. And I’m not sorry, either. The witch deserved it.”
Adam’s eyebrow shot up to his hairline. Ben coughed.
Taking a sip of wine and swallowing, Cass continued.
“When will I go back? Will I go back? That depends on a lot of things that I need to work out for myself. Let’s just say that there’s something in the city that made it hard to breathe. And there’s something – someone – here that I just don’t want to leave.”
Adam asked the question that was on everybody’s mind. “Where’s Franklin?”
CHAPTER FORTY
Cass poured more gravy on her mashed potatoes and stirred them together a little with her fork before she answered.
“Oh, yes. Franklin. His attitude improved when we returned East. And then, one day, he plopped a small box into my hand. In the box was an absolutely gorgeous gold-set-with-diamonds wedding band. I told him that I needed some time to think about our getting married, and he just didn’t understand why. He assumed, rightly so, I guess, that I had already made up my mind and was just waiting for him to ask me specifically. I pointed out that I didn’t want my life – or my career – defined by anyone but myself. I told him that I was stronger than he knew and that his behavior in Carson City was unacceptable. He threw an absolute tantrum. He hollered and he yelled and he threw things and used language that I’m not sure are even actual words.”
Here, Cass stopped. She didn’t want anyone to know that Franklin had disappointed her so completely. She didn’t want to admit that she had been so foolish as to allow herself to be treated in such an emotionally-abusive way. But she also wouldn’t lie to these men who had cared for her so deeply and obviously continued to care for her. A flicker of sadness crossed her face and then disappeared.
Hoss leaned forward, concern written all over his face. “What did you do?”
Cass had to smile. “Oh, I listened and I watched for a while. Very few people have ever gone against Franklin, including me, and he just couldn’t handle it. I saw him for what he is: a handsome man, very smart, but obnoxious, egotistical, and terribly immature. When he shoved the ring into my hand, he basically demanded that I accept it and that we get married immediately. A sense of calm swept over me as I handed the ring back to him.”
Joe was on the edge of his seat. “What’d you say to him?”
“I very politely told him that, if he was the last man on earth, I’d ask for a re-count. I put the ring back into his hand and told him to shove it up….”
Al yelled and leaped to cover Cass’s mouth to try to stifle what he was afraid she was going to say. Too late. The sentence was finished and everybody heard it.
“Oh, my God,” Bart muttered as he covered his face with his hands.
Al lost his balance and fell to the floor. Ben’s eyes popped wide open. Adam gaped. Hoss choked. Little Joe stared. Something in the kitchen crashed. Clete grinned.
Cass began to giggle. “Did I say that in front of you all? I guess I did – my whole jaw just went numb.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. And then Hoss stood up and clapped his hands, a wide smile on his face. Instantly, the men stood and clapped along with Hoss.
“I’m proud of you, gal,” Clete said as the applause died down. “That was a big step – and a possibly dangerous one under the circumstances.”
Al stood up and looked at Bart. Cass had not mentioned Franklin’s name since she had arrived home early the day before. Had either of them heard this story, one or the other of the brothers would have been quicker to shut Cass up. Or at least cautioned her about her language. Now it was too late. And neither brother, nor any Cartwright, nor Clete, doubted the veracity of her story.
Bart was quick to apologize to his guests on his sister’s behalf.
“Oh, stop it, Two! I can make my own apologies. If anyone here is offended, I apologize.”
Ben spoke. “There are certain extenuating circumstances where such language wouldn’t offend any of us. I think this is one of those times.” He paused. “But, Cass, from now on, watch your mouth!”
Cass burst into laughter, free and unstinting. The laughter from the men at the table drowned out the laughter from the kitchen. Yes, Bertha and Hop Sing had heard the whole thing too.
Clete reached for Cass’s hand. “The real Cass has come home.” Then he repeated what had been said about her before: “She can be very reasonable – except when she’s being stubborn.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Cass spent as much time at the Ponderosa as she did at Triple Nichols. She had a plan that she needed to implement, so she flirted outrageously with all the Cartwrights whenever the opportunity arose. She needed to know something for herself. And positively, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Her thoughts kept returning to a short conversation she’d had with one Cartwright in particular, and she smiled to herself. The only way to find out for sure was to spend time with each Cartwright – preferably alone but the plan could work when all four men were present.
Today, her heart told her that her instincts were right, but she was nervous. She was so afraid of rejection. But she remembered some good advice: “Loving is a risk, but it’s worth taking.” And today had to be the day – she was working on a time schedule with the Orchestra, and she needed to let them know her answer soon. Am I sure? Absolutely sure? Will he reject me or will he love me back? I’ve been told to follow my heart, but will it get broken? Does he feel the way I think he does?
Chastising herself in a whisper, she climbed into the saddle. There was one Cartwright who would be at the Ponderosa today. The others would be going, as usual on the same day every week, to Virginia City to run various errands. Today had to be the day. She kicked her horse into a gallop before she lost her nerve.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
She was right. When she arrived at the Ponderosa, he was there – alone – except for Clete. Red had taken a crew out to look for new calves, so everything was much quieter than normal.
“Hi, you two!” Cass tried to sound nonchalant.
“Hi, yourself. What brings you out here on this chilly day?” Clete had looked at Cass’s face and knew she had something on her mind.
“Oh, I just saw something I’ve never seen. Anybody care to go riding with me for a little while to investigate?” Cass’s nervous hands on her horse’s reins made the creature side-step, almost unseating its rider.
Clete looked at Cass and scrutinized her face. “I have to stay here. There’re still some chores that need to be tended to. But I bet he will go with you.” Clete pointed his thumb at the other man.
So it was that the lone Cartwright got on his horse with a smile. He always smiled around Cass. But his smile didn’t make her less edgy.
They talked as they rode, the cool breeze making Cass have more goosebumps than usual. She was looking for just the right spot but just couldn’t seem to find one. She finally settled on a small meadow near a gurgling creek. She made a pretense of looking around and then shrugged her shoulders.
“I guess it’s gone now,” she lied.
“What was it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s water the horses for a minute. I need to stretch my legs anyway.”
Always the gentleman, he helped her out of the saddle. She felt herself tremble at his touch – it was a good tremble. It always had been. Standing in the shade made the wind feel colder, and she shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Just here in the shade. Let’s go sit in the sun for a minute.”
The man helped her make her way across the tops of stones in the creek. Indeed, the sunshine did feel better – it seemed to take the chill out of the air.
Nervously, Cass played with the buttons on her lightweight jacket. How did a woman tell a man that she loved him? Was protocol always for the man to speak first? Cass plopped down in the pile of leaves, and the man sat down too. He intuited that something was on her mind but she needed to be ready to talk. He was ready to listen.
“I lied. There’s nothing here for you to look at. I just wanted to talk to you privately. I have a lot to say, so please just listen.”
His head nodded, and he made himself comfortable, close enough to Cass to let her know that he was listening but just far enough away so she wouldn’t be skittish. He had no idea what was on her mind. For that matter, nobody ever really knew what was on her mind.
Cass’s words came out in a jumble – not at all as she had planned. The speech she had rehearsed flew clean out of her head.
“When you all came to dinner the night after I got home, I had mentioned that there was something about the city that said I couldn’t breathe. For one thing, after being on the Triple Nichols, watching it grow and being a part of that growing process, well….the city just closed in on me. You know how much my music is a part of me.”
She stopped talking. “This isn’t what I want to say at all. I’m making a royal mess of things.”
The man started to speak. Cass put her finger up to indicate that he be quiet.
“I also said on that night that there was someone here that I just didn’t want to leave. That’s why I came back. I had to know that my instincts and my heart were right. I was a fool before I went back East. I was too focused on stupid Franklin to pay attention. But I’ve had many weeks to think, to clear my mind, to know for sure where my heart belongs.”
She had the man’s complete attention. He thought he knew where this conversation was going but he would hear her out.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Cass wriggled around a bit to get more comfortable. “A very wise man once told me that ‘physical chemistry’, together with a warmth and happiness in the heart, are excellent indicators of being ‘in love’. I’m ‘in love’ with a man but don’t know how to tell him. I think he loves me, but I don’t know if he’s ‘in love’ with me. He’s a wonderful man, strong when he needs to be, gentle when he needs to be. He can be serious or funny, depending on the circumstances. He genuinely cares about other people’s feelings. When I’m with him, I’m comfortable. There’s just the right amount of ‘physical chemistry’ mixed with a deep feeling of happiness and warmth. Should I tell him or should I wait to see if he tells me first?”
The man’s face became sphinx-like. He said nothing for what seemed like forever. Then, “Tell him. He needs to know.”
There was something strange about the man’s voice, but Cass couldn’t put a finger on it. An eagle’s cry broke the silence.
“You need for me t’ talk t’ Adam,” the man finally stated flatly.
Cass stared at the man in utter shock. “Talk to Adam? Why?”
“I seen the way you looked at each other one night when you two was dancin’. Everybody else seen it too. But I’ll talk t’ Adam and see how he feels. I don’t want you t’ get hurt any more’n you already been hurt.”
Cass opened her mouth to say something and then promptly shut it. “You’d do that for me?”
“Yes’m.”
“Oh, Hoss…… I’m not interested in Adam. All this time I’ve been talking about you. Don’t you know that?”
Hoss’s blue eyes widened as he realized what Cass was saying. It just wasn’t possible. Cass in love with him?
“But Adam….”
“Adam’s a wonderful man. So is your Pa and so is Little Joe. But I love them like the dear friends they are. I love them like I love Clete. But, Hoss. What I feel for you goes so much deeper and is so much stronger.”
Cass moved close to Hoss and cradled his face in her hands. “Do you remember what you said the night Miracle was born? I do. You thought I didn’t hear you, and what you said didn’t register with me at that moment because of all the excitement. But, at some point, I did remember. Do you remember?”
“I remember. But I never said it again ’cause I thought you and Franklin or you and Adam… I wouldn’ta never thought that you would be int’rested in me.”
“Hoss, don’t shame me into saying it first. Let me have a little dignity. If your feelings have changed, just walk away from me.”
“No’m, my feelin’s ain’t changed.” Hoss reached for a tendril of Cass’s hair and brushed it away from her face gently. The lump in his throat kept him from speaking. Cass rubbed her fingers across his eyes and then his cheeks and then across his lips.
“I love you. I have for a long time.” Hoss stated the words simply.
Forgetting dignity, Cass bent her head to Hoss and kissed him tenderly. She felt an initial coolness, undoubtedly from the wind, and then she felt the warmth flood into his lips. Breaking the kiss, Cass smiled, a single tear sliding down her cheek.
“I love you, Hoss Cartwright.”
The next kiss was longer and stronger than the first one – and Hoss initiated it. Cass felt his big arms around her, felt his strength, felt his love, felt the chemistry and felt the happiness. This was just plain right. She returned his kiss, holding her hand behind his head, prolonging the contact. When they finally drew apart, both of them were breathless and speechless. It didn’t matter – words were superfluous at that moment anyway.
Man and woman held hands and looked across the small meadow. Hoss chuckled. “Me. Of all people. Just wait til Pa and Adam and Joe hear this!” A long pause. “What about the Orchestra?”
“Maybe I’ll join them for special occasions. But I think I’d like to teach music to folks. Kids maybe. They pick up things so quickly. I actually haven’t thought that far ahead.” Then, “Hoss?”
“Hmmmm?” Hoss was looking at Cass intently, wondering what the “catch” to this whole thing was.
“My brothers have called me ‘incorrigible’ and ‘insufferable’. I have the tendency to use unladylike language. I have a terrible temper. I’m worried about something.”
Hoss was on the alert. “Worried ’bout what?”
“Your Pa and Adam could keep me reined in, but can you? You’re the gentlest man I know. I don’t want a man who will let me run roughshod over him – and I will, if given the chance. But I don’t want another ‘Franklin’ who stifles me, either. I’ve calmed down a lot. Well, maybe just a little. But you need to know for sure that I will be myself most of the time. I’m sassy and opinionated and sometimes use bad language and….”
“That’s it? You’re worried if I kin handle you?” Hoss was amazed. “I love you the way you are! Yep, bad language is ‘unladylike’. But, like Pa said, there’re times when nothin’ can be done for it. You know the diff’rence and how to shut your own mouth. But, keep you ‘reined in’? No’m! I don’t want no wife who can’t stand on her own two feet. I been told that I look gentle. And, most o’ the time, I ‘m that way. But I ain’t no pushover neither. I love you for your spirit and your sassiness and for the gentleness that you don’t let most folks see. But I seen it, hiding behind your eyes. I don’t wanna change you. Not for nothin’. Don’t you worry none. You can’t run roughshod over ole Hoss.”
Cass exhaled. She hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath.
It was Hoss who spoke and broke the silence. “You sure you wanna marry me? Shoot, I don’t know nothin’ ’bout music, I can’t sing a lick, I ain’t as educated as Pa and Adam. I don’t even read books t’ speak of. I’m just a good ole country boy. That’s all I am.”
“Hoss,” Cass began, “it doesn’t matter that you know nothing about music, or opera, or famous composers. It doesn’t matter that you can’t sing. Maybe you think you don’t have the book-learning that your family has. You have life-experience, which counts for more than most things you can read in a book. And you’re guided by your heart. That’s what’s the most important thing. I can look in your eyes when you speak and know that what is there is real and honest. It’s these things that set you apart from other men. It’s why I love you.”
Looking at Cass with an impish light in his blue eyes, Hoss said, “You want a gold-with-diamonds ring?”
Cass snorted and pushed on Hoss’s shoulder. “Shoot, let’s use a band from one of your Pa’s cigars. I’m not choosy about the jewelry. Only about the man.”
Together, they rose and embraced one last time. They couldn’t wait to share their news!
EPILOGUE
The wedding festivities were over. Hoss and Cass had gone to their home, aptly named “The Meadows.” And now, Ben, Adam, Little Joe and Clete sat around on the front porch with contented and satisfied looks on their faces. Jeni and Scott Nichols, parents of the bride, had retired for the evening – they faced a long trip back to Wyoming. They had become immediate friends with all the Cartwrights and had adored Hoss. Al’s wife, Grace (with baby “Amelia) and Bart’s wife, Linda (with baby “Marcus”) had returned to Triple Nichols to make their homes with their husbands. They, also, had taken a liking to the entire Cartwright family.
“Who’d have thought that Cass would’ve chosen Hoss?” Joe opined. “She and I could’ve had so much fun!”
Ben smiled his fatherly grin. “That woman is way out of your league, Joseph. Not just in age but also in maturity. Yes, you would’ve had ‘fun’, but eventually all that wears off.” Ben didn’t sound unkind nor did Joe feel insulted at his father’s words – he knew that those words were right.
Adam was thinking. Indeed, he had been smitten by Cass, but he would never know if he could’ve fallen ‘in love’ with her. He needed more time to be around her, to see just how compatible they might’ve have been. They had the love of music in common, and there was chemistry between them, but it was a moot point now. Cass had made her choice, and Hoss was the right man.
Clete leaned back in his chair. “Wonder how ole Franky-boy is doing now?” He chuckled.
Even Ben had to smile. “He got what he asked for when he showed up in Carson City trying to make amends with Cass the night before the wedding.”
All thoughts turned to the evening when Franklin had alit from the stage, still with that air of self-confidence and arrogance. His eyes lacked emotion, snake-like. He heard the news of Cass’s upcoming nuptials and headed straight for the restaurant where the Nichols family and the Cartwright family were dining.
Striding up to the table, Franklin spoke directly to Cass. He ignored every other person in the room.
“Cassandra, you can’t do this. I love you more than he does. And you love me. Look at the years we’ve spent together. We were made for each other. A marriage to a man like Hoss would be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made!”
Cass felt Hoss begin to stand up. She put her hand on his arm, the gentlest of touches, and looked into his blue eyes. “I’m a big girl, Hoss. Let me handle this my way.”
Hoss reluctantly sat down. He intuitively knew that Cass wanted – needed – to stand on her own two feet.
“Franklin, I never loved you. I admired you and respected you for what you did for me and my career. I only thought that I loved you. But you will not stand here and cast aspursions on Hoss. He’s more man than you’ll ever hope to be in your lifetime! I’m in love with him and want to spend my life with him.”
“But he’s uncultured! He’s basically a country hick!”
The slap across Franklin’s face came quickly and with the power of years of pent-up hostility. Franklin reeled from that single slap, and he put his hand quickly to his face to stop the sting of it. He was mortified beyond belief. And he was angered by the satisfied smiles of Al and Bart and of all the Cartwrights.
In his fury, Franklin made the mistake of speaking directly to Hoss. “You don’t know what you’re getting for a wife. Cassandra is ‘damaged goods’. Very ‘damaged’.”
The next thing Franklin knew, his nose was not located in the center of his face and it was bleeding all over everywhere. The pain made his eyes water. Hoss grabbed him by his ruffled shirt, held him up in the air and was ready to deliver another crushing blow. He felt a hand on his drawn-back fist.
“No, Hoss. Once is enough. Let him go.” Cass’s eyes resolute.
Hoss dropped Franklin on the floor. Franklin had the good sense to leave quickly, holding his starched white handkerchief to his streaming nose.
Cass felt Hoss’s fist relax, but there was fury in his eyes.
“This is a wonderful supper. Let’s not let that idiot ruin it,” Cass said softly. “He got what was coming to him – twice – and that’s all that needed to be done.”
And she was right. Ben nodded his head at her, Adam winked at her, and Little Joe just grinned. Al raised his glass of wine to toast the soon-to-be-wed couple. The Cartwrights and the rest of the Nichols family followed suit.
“To Cass and Hoss. May this upcoming marriage be filled with joy and happiness. Forever.”
Glasses clinked. Cass held Hoss’s hand with the gentlest of touches as she smiled up at him.
THE END
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