Summary: When Adam and his wife welcome a second child, the household is thrown into chaos. The changes leave their oldest feeling so overlooked that she becomes convinced that no one will miss her if she disappears. Being a Cartwright, she decides to put that theory to the test.

Rating: PG (mild violence)

Word Count: 15,160

Queen of the Dunes

Every woman in Adam’s life was crying. Beth was in her room crying because she was in trouble again (he was losing count of the number of times that happened lately). Alta stormed into their room off to release tears she’d held in check while they fought. Usually, Adam was teasing when he started in with ‘your daughter’ but it got a bit out of hand this time. And Nora? He was pacing the floor of the great room with her as she wailed.

“Here, let me try,” Ben offered. “Sometimes Grandpa has the magic touch.” He took Nora in his arms, nestling her against his chest, and began to sway. Sure enough, she settled, and Adam threw up his arms in defeat.

“This was a bad time to agree to a visit,” Adam commented as he sank onto the settee. “We’re just not doing well.”

“It’s tough when you go from one to two. You’re more confident on how to care for the second, but there’s more…” Ben searched for the right word. “Chaos. You must find a new sense of balance for the whole family, and everyone struggles with that.”

“You and Inger made it look so easy.”

Ben chuckled. “You were six and didn’t see the worries we kept from you. Whether the journey would hinder Inger’s recovery from birth, if we’d have enough supplies to keep her eating right and able to feed Hoss. How we’d keep you both safe. And we were just as sleep deprived as you are now, yet we tried to keep our routine the same. That gave you a sense of security and eased any fears about what a new baby meant for us as a family.”

Adam reached for the cup of coffee Pa had abandoned in favor of swaying with Nora and downed the contents as he considered Ben’s words. Memories of those final months with Inger flooded his mind. He still rode up front with Pa as he drove the wagon, helped with chores, and was given new, special responsibilities with his brother. He and Inger read every night while Hoss slept. Pa answered his endless questions with patience, sometimes with his eyes closed and voice drowsy. They never failed to tuck him in and Inger was never too busy with Hoss for a cuddle or anything at all that he needed.

“That’s what’s wrong with Beth,” Adam groaned, putting his head in his hands. “We’re barely keeping ourselves together, and she’s suffered for it.”

Ben paused his swaying to pat Adam’s shoulder. “It happens to the best of us. Marie and I after Joe…” The words trailed off as he shook his head and laughed. “Beth wants your attention, even if it’s negative. I think she’s worried there’s not enough love to go around for big girls. It’s fixable, son.”

Deciding there was no time like the present for a heart-to-heart with Beth, Adam headed upstairs to her room. Opening the door, he discovered the house was short one crying female; Beth was nowhere in sight.

————–

The decision to leave her room, go down the back stairs, and exit the house was a spontaneous burst of rebellion. Papa was tired of her, and Beth was tired of a lot of things. She was tired of being in trouble, of the baby, of she and Papa never doing anything together anymore. The whole family was at home all the time it seemed, because they were worn out. Well, Grandpa wasn’t worn out, not like Papa and Mama. But even he liked to stay close to home, usually to hold Nora.

And because everyone was so tired, no one had taken Beth to the lending library in forever. Or anywhere else. Even stuck at home, the routines had changed. She and Papa hadn’t had breakfast together and looked at the paper in ages. Each time Beth mentioned it, he promised another day, but that day didn’t come. It was the same thing with the park and Woodward’s Gardens and anything else she asked for. No, no, NO, was all she heard.

So, Beth decided that she, at least, was going to get un-tired. After all, Papa had taught her how to use the cable cars, navigate streets of the neighborhood, which were not safe to go to, how to use a compass, and all sorts of neat things. Surely, he wanted her to use those skills. Granted, she had no compass, but Beth had a good sense of direction and didn’t worry about those finer details, including the fact that she didn’t have any money. Mostly, because she didn’t need any money where she was going and it wasn’t far from home either.

Bypassing her friends’ homes on the street where she lived, the little girl headed towards the bay to play in the dunes along the way with anyone that might show up. And, if she was lucky, Beth would see the steam shovelers and say hello the workers again. They probably forgot her; it had been so long since her last visit.

————

Alta poked her head out of the bedroom as Adam shouted their daughter’s name, ready to ask what Beth had done now. The tenor of his voice gave her pause, shifting what was to be a weary inquiry to a sense of unease. “Adam?” Alta called as she descended the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Beth.” His face was lined with worry. “I think she left the house.”

A cold knot formed in Alta’s stomach. San Francisco had grown up since its gold rush beginnings, but it was still no place for a small child to wander alone. “Maybe she went to a friend’s,” she offered. “Or is playing in the street. She knows she’s not allowed beyond our street and the block on either side without permission.”

Considering she had left her room, and the house, without permission, Adam wasn’t feeling confident about Beth’s willingness to obey rules just now. “Pa and I will start knocking on doors.”

Adam and Ben split up; each taking one side of the block. Anytime someone answered, they asked about Beth, inquiring whether she was inside, had come by or been seen at all. They stopped any child they saw, hoping one of them spotted her or saw her playing somewhere. Some pointed in a vaguely eastern direction but only was certain it was Beth; the others were not. Only one house corroborated the child’s sighting the missing little girl.

“She called hello and waved,” Mrs. Gibbs told Adam. “She was just skipping along, not a care in the world. Always such a happy little thing.” The woman smiled, recalling the child’s sweet greeting.

Adam offered a bland smile in return; usually, Beth was a happy child. “And you’re sure she was headed east?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t see where she went much past our place. My youngest two started wrestling and I had to separate them before another nose or finger broke.”

He thanked her for her time and went back to the street. The men weren’t far from the corner and hadn’t tried the houses on the other two blocks Beth was allowed on.

“What’s East of here?” Ben asked. From what he could see, it wasn’t much. Beyond the shops on the cross street, there were no other houses or buildings.

“Nothing.” Adam shrugged. Sand was hardly a likely refuge for a little girl. He wasn’t even sure whether Beth had her shoes on or not. He couldn’t recall seeing them on her feet, but Adam wasn’t looking for them either. Nor did he see if they were gone before dashing out of the house.

After continuing the search on the next block over and gaining no new information on Beth, Adam thought hard about where to go next. Could Beth have gotten on cable car? She certainly knew how. In that moment, Adam regretted teaching her how to use the transport system safely. Could Beth have gone as far as Woodward’s Gardens? He didn’t like to think of her in a place that big, so full of people, all on her own. Not that she was likely to get in without money and Adam was certain she had none on her. Then again, he recalled several children that hung around the entrance of Woodward’s, hoping someone might take pity and pay their fee, and with a decent success rate.

The cable car, however, was much harder to navigate without funds. A well-dressed child on her own was apt to be noticed, too, especially when she couldn’t pay. That seemed like the perfect place to look for a sighting of Beth, given the lack of further information in the neighborhood. Sharing his thoughts with Ben, the pair headed for the nearest stop.

“You really think she’d come this far?” Ben asked, noting the distance. “All on her own?”

“Remember how you taught me how to navigate by the stars, the way you did on ships?” Adam asked. The two shared a brief smile, despite the circumstances. “I’ve taught her the same, along with streets and landmarks. Don’t underestimate Beth because of her age. She’s got a decent mental map of a fair part of the city. I used to take her round all sorts of silly ways and have her bring us home to teach her.” The pride he felt was quickly replaced with a sense of dread accompanied by a grimace. “Regretting that a more than a little bit now.”

Ben reached out to put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, giving it a brief but firm squeeze. “We’ll find her.”

————-

As Adam worked to curb his rising panic by forcing logic to the fore, his heartbeat increasing with each passing minute without Beth in his sight, an epic battle raged in the sand. Beth was part of a motley crew waging war in the dunes, having the time of her life.

A lone figure stood triumphantly at the top, grinning down at the hundreds (twelve) of enemies (other children) attempting to take his hill. They slipped, slid, and grappled as the unstable sands shifted beneath them during the climb, shouting all the while. Some offered threats, others rallied a friend or two to join them in a coordinated attack (“gimme a boost!”), while more still called out warnings as compatriots tumbled down the dune. Giggles, cheers, jeers, and shouts filled the air.

As soon as anyone came too near, the current king, a big boy of eleven named Boyd, shoved them down. Typically, he wasn’t gentle about it either. A persistent newcomer was getting on his nerves, making a surprisingly strong effort to unseat him as King of the Hill, or Dune as it were. This time, Boyd propelled her downward with a kick. Instead of sliding, or even rolling somewhat gently, Beth flew towards the base and collided with two other children on the way. The tangle of flailing, shouting children landed at the bottom in a heap.

The battle paused momentarily while Beth and the two other children were assisted by fellow would-be-kings. Pulled off one another, scrapes and bruises were forming from where limbs and heads knocked together. Beth wasn’t sure what part of whom bonked her head, but her nose was dripping blood at a steady pace. She had no handkerchief to staunch the flow.

“Pull on your sleeve and put it on your nose,” another girl said. “It’s just about off anyway.”

Beth looked and saw her friend was correct. The right sleeve of her dress was coming apart at the shoulder seam. She tried to tug it the rest of the way off but couldn’t manage it on her own. The other girl, and a boy, yanked on the material until it came off. The force of it sent Beth rolling backwards and she laughed hysterically, despite the bloody nose. Taking the cloth, she pinched her nose with it, smearing blood across her face as she did so.

“I’m Gwen,” the little girl introduced herself. “This is my brother, Dixon.”

“I’m Beth.” Her voice sounded funny thanks to her pinched nose, making them all laugh.

“Boyd gets mean ‘bout being king. It’d sure be nice to throw him off the dune. Wanna help us try?” Gwen asked.

Dixon frowned. “She’s little Gwennie.”

The girl in question hopped to her feet, thrust her chin in the air defiantly and challenged, “So what?”

“You might get hurt.”

Beth pinned him with a withering look that Alta would’ve been proud of. She said nothing and simply pointed at her face with her free hand.

Dixon sighed. “Fine. But no cryin’!”

A look of unholy glee came over Beth’s face. “I got an idea.”

She was no stranger to the sand dunes, though Adam rarely let her engage in the rough play that took place there. Instead, they explored the area, looking for little treasures they might find and learning about the odd bits of plant life that popped up in some places rather than others. Usually, Beth was satisfied with this, because she loved learning and Papa knew everything it seemed. Today, some of that learning was going to benefit rough play with her new friends, Gwen and Dixon.

Almost trembling with excitement, the little girl proposed her plan. “There’s prickly little shrub bushes around here. I know where! We should find some and use them to create a… a…” Beth’s nose crinkled as she tried to think of the word. After a few seconds, she shrugged and moved on. “We need to attack on three sides! One throws plants, the other two try to get Boyd off the dune.”

Dixon frowned. “There’s only sand here. I ain’t seen any plants. And I’d have to throw ‘em if there was any, because I got a good arm.”

“There are too,” Beth challenged. “I can show you.” She set off with a determined stride towards another set of dunes where she knew the shrubs poked out of the sand in random places.

Behind her, Dixon and Gwen shrugged and followed Beth. They had nothing to lose and possibly a game to win.

———-

As Beth and her friends plotted to overthrow the current King of the Dune, Alta, too, put plans into action. She wasn’t the sort of person that sat at home, waiting for someone to decide to provide her with updates while her child was missing. Adam might have told her to stay home, but as far as Alta was concerned, Adam didn’t tell her anything. She had her own mind, free will, and intellectual abilities and made her own decisions.

When he and Ben failed to return after ninety minutes and Beth had not returned, Alta took matters into her own hands. She left Nora in the capable care of their housekeeper and cook, promising to return in time for her next feeding, and left. Adam went looking for information, for a trail. Alta went looking for a search party.

Within fifteen minutes, Alta managed to assemble five other women. “I’ll start at the lending library. Effie, you go to the ice cream parlor. Julia, the new confectionary that opened. Martha and Minnie, take Union Square. Lisa, the school,” she delegated. “We’ll start there and work our way back here, looking anywhere a child might be interested in going, playing, or hiding. We’ll meet back here in no more than two hours.”

—————

Elsewhere, the cable car driver turned out to be a dead end. Against Adam’s better judgement, he and Ben proceeded to the nearest police station.

“It’s not like Virginia City, Pa,” Adam warned. His interactions with the police in San Francisco had left a great deal to be desired. “We’ll be lucky if they show any interest at all in helping. At times it’s difficult to tell the authorities and the criminals apart.”

“Adam, it’s a child that’s missing! Surely even the most unethical of individuals will be persuaded to look for a little girl,” Ben countered.

Ten minutes later, the Cartwright patriarch found his faith in humanity sorely tested as an officer heard their story with a look of boredom. “Do ya have any idea how many children there are in this city?” he asked. “Comin’ off boats, runaways, orphans, young’uns wandering around at their leisure while their folks work all the day long, some doin’ jobs of their own. And you want me to find one of them? If she was so important to ya, how’d ya lose track o’her in the first place?”

Seeing red, Adam made to leap over the counter at the officer. Ben grabbed at him, pulling Adam away. “Adam! ADAM! That’s enough!” He knew it was the fear, and even guilt, that his son felt making him react that way. Adam fought him, growling angrily, still trying to get at the officer. Yet Ben continued to drag him away from the other man and outside into the street. “You’re not helping Beth right now!” he thundered.

Her name broke through Adam’s anger, and he stopped pushing against Pa’s hold. Ben continued to keep a firm grip on him, unwilling to let go too soon and have Adam end up behind bars. “Now is the time to think and think hard. If the authorities aren’t going to help us, we need a search party. We also need places for them to look. Where would she go? You know her better than anyone,” Ben reminded him. “Think son!”

———

She stood defiantly, triumphantly even, and simply pointed at the plants. They weren’t plentiful, and rather spread out, but Beth had proven their existence. Now, she delighted in Dixon’s surprise and begrudging acceptance that she knew what she was talking about. Beth watched him reach for one and jump back in surprise at the prickles. Rolling her eyes the way she had seen her mother do hundreds of times, she sighed.

“I did say they were prickly. But I do know how to pick ‘em up,” Beth added. “And hold ‘em so they don’t get you. Watch me.” She moved past her new friends and reached for the nearest plant, carefully touching it around the base rather than the leaves. “You pull it like this,” she demonstrated. “And hold it there where it isn’t going to hurt you.” The plant sat easily in her hand, held loosely by the base.

Dixon copied her movements and this time managed to succeed in keeping himself free from stings. “This will hurt Boyd then,” he mused.

“If you hit him with it. If your aim is that good,” Beth added.

Gwen chimed in before her brother could sputter in outrage. “His aim is good. Maybe try not to hit ‘im in the face. If he goes home whinin’, we’ll get in trouble.”

“It’s a diversion.” Beth’s whole face lit up as she recalled the word she meant to use earlier. “We shouldn’t hurt him with it if we can help it.” She glanced down at the dirty footprint on her dress from where Boyd kicked her earlier. “Well, maybe not too much.”

“Not more than he deserves,” Gwen nodded. In her mind, that was a lot of latitude. Boyd was a bully and if they managed to take him down from the dune, the trio would become the heroes of the neighborhood. “Grab some more, quick! Before the game is over and we hafta wait until tomorrow.”

————

On the street outside the police station, Adam was still growling indignantly over the officer’s comments. “How could he– She’s my daughter! I didn’t lose her on purpose!”

“He doesn’t know you or our family,” Ben countered. He still held Adam firmly and half directed, half moved him even further away from the building as the man continued to grumble. “Forget about him.”

If Beth wasn’t missing, Adam might not have allowed himself to be talked into walking away from the situation. Or rather, be physically removed from it, as it were. But she was and his child remained his top priority even if he had a strong urge to bash in that fool’s head. “You can let go now Pa,” Adam stated, giving his father a firm look.

Ben gave a stern look of his own. “Can I? You won’t do anything foolish?” Only when he had Adam’s promise did he let go of the younger man.

“You’re right that we need a search party and our best bet is to gather employees at the office and people from the neighborhood. Before we start doing that, we’re very close to the lending library and I want to check it to make sure Beth isn’t hiding there with her nose in a book,” Adam decided.

It would make for a peaceful resolution to an increasingly fraught situation, Ben thought, if they found her there. However, if she’d been there the entire time while they were losing their minds with worry, he might need to restrain Adam once more. Ben well remembered the desire to both hug and murder a child (mainly Joe) in instances like this!

The pair headed for the lending library, urgency giving their feet wings. Hours had surely passed and if Beth was found in the next few moments, the fears of finding her injured—or not finding her at all—could end. They dodged people and prams, conveyances, shoppers, and signs standing outside shops to get there quicker. Adam swore his heart was about to beat right out of his chest it was racing so fast as he anticipated, hoped, and even prayed to find her.

Rather than find Beth, however, Adam ran, literally, into Alta. As she was frantically exiting and he quickly tried to enter, the two collided with enough force to knock them both over.

Ben, ever the gentleman, was there to catch his daughter-in-law and steady her before Alta took an embarrassing fall onto her backside in front of all and sundry.

“Are you alright?” Ben asked.

Adam tried to right himself, flailing his arms, but didn’t quite manage it. He fell over, narrowly missing an entire book display, landing with a thud that seemed absurdly loud in the otherwise quiet space. The groan and coinciding growl of, “Ow, damn it,” drew gasps from female patrons and grins from small children.

The words earned a bellowed admonishment of “Adam!” along with a signature glower from the Cartwright patriarch.

Despite the stress of the overall situation, Alta let out a brief giggle at the sight of her husband on the floor, having just been publicly scolded. She earned a scowl in the process and bit her lip as she offered a hand to Adam.

“What are you doing here?” they each asked, in unison.

—————

The Cartwrights left the lending library, and anyone scandalized by Adam’s coarse language, behind. Ben’s eyebrows were still drawn sharply in disapproval, but he refrained from lecturing given the seriousness of the circumstances. Much to his consternation, Adam paid him little notice.

“You didn’t truly expect me to sit at home and wait for hours on end when my child is missing, did you?” Alta asked. Her tone was even, but her eyes promised a challenge if his answer happened to be ‘yes.’

He shook his head gloomily. “I didn’t expect it to take this long to find her.”

“The law is singularly uninterested in aiding us, which I find unfathomable,” Ben added.

To his surprise, Alta snorted derisively.

“Frankly, I’d be more likely to suspect them of involvement than expect their help. Your son keeps telling me it would be unwise to bring a class action against the whole lot on a wide variety of issues. This being one of them,” she stated bluntly.

“Now, why haven’t you found my baby?” Alta’s tone turned severe as she turned to Adam, her eyes boring into him. “Have you looked all those places you two are always running off to?”

He frowned in confusion. “Run off to?”

“Don’t be obtuse. The question is simple.”

This must be what she’s like in court, Ben mused.

“You and Beth are always doing things together,” she continued. “She comes back crowing about how much Papa knows and how exciting it was. Beth enjoys your special time together and it sounds as though you return to similar places on your excursions.” Alta and Beth had Mama and daughter time, but, as she explained, those places were already being searched. “Where Adam? Think!”

Suddenly, the pieces all fell into place. Had Adam not been so sleep-deprived thanks to his youngest, it might have occurred to him hours ago. He only prayed she was still there and hadn’t got in the way of any of the steam shovels or workers.

“I know where she is!” He promptly took off running, leaving his wife and father without a clue as to his destination.

“Adam!”

“Son!”

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

Ben watched in dismay as Alta ran and continued to call after him. There was no other option; he sprinted after the pair of them, bellowing their names. He watched, heart pounding wildly, as they dodged in and out of traffic, until Alta finally cornered Adam.

Did that girl just push him into the side of the building?!

“Now you just wait a damn minute!” Alta shoved him again for good measure, eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t you dare run off and leave me behind! You don’t keep that information to yourself Adam Stoddard Cartwright.” She poked his shoulder with her finger this time, once for each of his names, for emphasis. “She’s my baby, and I’m not just waiting for you to waltz back. I’m going with you, wherever it is we’re going. Do you hear me?”

Adam raised his hands in surrender to his irate wife. “The steam shovelers filling in the Bay. She’s been fascinated by them since they started work,” he hurriedly explained. Adam saw his father catching up to them out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll tell Pa, and all go together.”

Alta gave a curt nod of agreement. “That’s more like it.”

————-

Blissfully unaware of the amount of time that had passed since she left, not to mention the agony she was causing her family, Beth and her new friends set the stage for the Great Battle for the Dune. Dixon, loaded for bear with their secret weapon, hunched out of Boyd’s sight. Gwen and Beth were waiting for a signal on opposing sides of the dune, ready to scramble up as fast as they could. It was debatable which of them had the most important job: Dixon, with the distraction, or the girls with the takedown. In the end that didn’t matter, so long as they did win. They planned to give it their all.

Dixon let out the agreed upon war cry and launched the first of the prickly plants. It landed at the other boy’s feet, pulling Boyd’s attention in that direction. The girls began their ascent, scrabbling for foot and hand holds. As Dixon kept tossing, Boyd began cursing. None so far had hit their mark, but they were annoying! He picked one up and yelped, dropping it instantly.

Colorful words Beth had never heard before and a variety of oaths were let loose by Boyd as she and Gwen steadily climbed towards the top.

“I’m gettin’ rattlesnaked here!” Boyd hollered. “Somebody help me!”

Jeers were the only response to his cry. Boyd remained so focused on figuring out who was throwing the plants and how to remove them without touching them that he never noticed the girls crest the dune. Suddenly the taunting changed to outright cheers.

“Look, look!”

“Boyd’s gonna get it!”

“KICK ‘IM!”

Boyd whirled around to face his attackers, at once shocked and dismayed to find Beth and Gwen. Before he could react, they combined forces and pushed him with all their might. The King careened down the dune, wailing and flailing until he came to an ignominious and painful stop at Dixon’s feet—on top of the last few prickly plants.

A mighty roar went up at the realization that Boyd had been completely and humiliatingly dethroned. After what seemed like years of ruthless domination of the dune, his reign ended.

At the top, the reigning Queens joined hands, jumping up and down as they squealed with glee. The celebration was not meant to last.

“Wait! They’s girls!” Someone noted, pointing to Beth and Gwen.

A moment passed as all silently deliberated whether a girl, let alone two, should control the dune.

“I ain’t gonna be ruled by no calico!”

Beth scowled down at the other children, hands on her hips and demanded, “What’s that mean?!”

The boys merely swarmed the dune while the few other girls in attendance stepped back. They wanted no part of what was about to happen. Within minutes, the throne of the dune was empty once more as a massive brawl took place at the base of it.

Beth struck out with fists, feet, and even teeth when necessary. She gave as good as she got, feeling no pain as the adrenaline and excitement of the fight raged. If anyone had asked just then, Beth would report that this was the most fun she ever had in her life.

The melee continued with abandon as fists and feet flew with rage. Beth defended her honor, and status as co-queen, alongside Gwen at first. The two were quickly separated amid the crush of children and the intensity of the fighting. Shoes sailed, nails scratched, epitaphs were shouted, children rolled around pulling on clothes and hair indiscriminately.

With no adults nearby, and no one willing to be the first to surrender, there was no end sight. Well, no one except Boyd, that is. He elected not to join in the fracas from the start, his pride deeply wounded along with his person. The ex-king scrambled far away from the pokey plants and slunk home.

Though she was among the youngest there, Beth was undeterred. If anything, that fact made her scrap even harder to prove her place. Not just that she was old enough and big enough but that she—and by extension—Gwen, were worthy of playing the game and winning! She pinched ears, bit fingers that clawed at her, punched, and put her shoes to good use with mighty kicks. Before long, Beth, too, was calling out words she heard the others use simply to affirm her rough-and-tumble status.

The roar of the fighting was so loud, and every child so focused on it, that none of them noticed a trio of horrified adults racing in their direction.

———-

Adam led the way towards the Bay where the steam shovelers worked, with Alta and Ben close behind. To access the area meant passing around or over the sand dunes and as the adults approached the area, sounds of an all-out brawl met their ears long before they saw the spectacle.

“Sounds like some young boys are giving each other quite a beating,” Ben commented with a frown. Wrestling amongst youngsters was one thing, but the sort of fighting they could hear was not the type he approved of. Frankly, the echoes of skin hitting skin amid the shouts and cursing were rather disturbing.

Adam smiled briefly and caught Alta’s eyes. He inclined his head lightly in Pa’s direction and winked. He’s going to get in the middle of it and send the boys home with a flea in their ear.

She nodded in agreement.

“You two don’t need me to get Beth,” the patriarch continued.  “I think I better put an end to that ruckus and send those boys home to their parents before someone really gets hurt, if they haven’t already. Besides, you’ll pass back that way if you need me for anything.”

Adam and Alta looked at one another and tried not to laugh. It required some biting of lips and the insides of their cheeks to keep from doing so. Pa was rather predictable at times.

As they rounded the corner past the last stores on that street and made for the dunes, two things immediately became apparent. The first was that Ben would require assistance in stopping the altercation. This wasn’t just three or four young boys going at it. Adam could count eight… ten, eleven… perhaps even closer to fifteen children all out brawling with a ferocity that was shocking.

The second thing was that Beth wasn’t watching the workers at the Bay. She was here, in the middle of the fighting, and holding her own. The girl popped up from the bottom of a pile of children, only to be tugged back towards the ground by her hair. As Alta gasped, Beth socked the boy right in the eye. Despite the situation, Adam felt a surge of pride.

Ben easily took command of the situation, storming right into the fray. “That is enough! All of you! Stop this at once!”

Most children did as he said, largely out of shock at the booming voice and thunderous look that accompanied it. Those that did not were quickly separated and sat on the ground none-too-gently by Ben.

Suddenly a joyous little voice burst out amid Ben’s growls and orders. “Grandpa!” Beth jumped to her feet, intending to run to him but skidded to a stop after just a few seconds.

Ben did not greet his beloved granddaughter with a smile. Lips thinned with anger, nostrils flared, he pointed at her with a stern finger. “Sit. Down. Now.” He watched as Beth sat so quickly, she nearly fell onto another child in the process.

Only then did Beth notice her father. Even though Grandpa wasn’t happy, she still smiled brightly and waved at Adam as if nothing at all was wrong. Then Grandpa barked again and her eyes went back to Ben as he sternly lectured the entire group of misfits.

“I’m going to kill her,” Adam murmured to his wife. “The minute I get my hands on her.”

Alta shook her head. “Oh no you’re not. I’m going to look at her injuries, give her a bath, and make her listen to how much I was worried about her today.”

He raised his eyebrows in silent challenge. Surely Alta didn’t intend to let it go at that?

“Then you can kill her.”

That seemed appropriate. After all, Beth was a mess, and that was putting it lightly. At least some of the blood had to be hers, though she didn’t look like she was actively bleeding. Or even in any pain. “My god she’s outrageous.”

“She’s your daughter.”

“She’s your daughter.” Adam sighed heavily and shared a helpless look with Alta. “What are we going to do with her?”

Alta shrugged a bit, looking somewhat defeated, though her eyes sparkled. “Keep her, I suppose. No one else will want her, especially with the way she looks right now.” She struggled to hold her composure when Adam had to turn away from her, his shoulders shaking with the laughter he held in.

“AHEM!”

They cast sheepish looks in Ben’s direction, listening as he finished his lecture with the announcement that he was personally bringing every child home and speaking to their parents. The agonized groans and pleading of the young fighters were nearly Adam and Alta’s undoing.

————

It was quite a sight, watching his father bark orders at a gaggle of children who scurried to obey. I always obeyed that tone, too, Adam thought wryly. Despite the complaints and unhappy looks, they began directing Ben towards where they lived. The only child who did not need to be escorted was Beth. He sent her directly to her parents. Adam watched her come skipping towards them and struggled to discern if defiance was putting that spring in her step or if she was truly that unaware they were angry.

The closer Beth came to them, the worse she looked and the more horrified her parents became. Her hair was coming out of its braids, and one ribbon was gone; her shoes were scuffed, and Adam swore that there was blood on the toe of the one. One stocking was ripped from knee to ankle, her dress was missing a sleeve, and the hem was barely hanging on. The front of it was stained with blood and dirt. Most of Beth was covered in dirt, it seemed. And that was just the cosmetic issues!

Her person was in a similarly appalling state. Beth’s little hands and face were scratched, and one hell of a shiner was developing on her right eye. Blood was smeared on her face, but it didn’t appear fresh. A bruise was forming on her chin and her knuckles looked sore. Yet, she was all smiles and a part of him felt proud of her. She was one tough little girl! Just a part though; the rest of him was furious.

Before Adam could say a word and Beth could do more than greet them cheerfully, Alta knelt and had her arms wrapped around the little girl. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered, hugging Beth close. She felt almost weak with relief that Beth was alive and safe. None of the horrible scenarios that were popping up in Alta’s head these last hours had come to fruition.

Beth was a bit alarmed at the intensity of her mother’s greeting. She was being held so tightly that she was practically crushed to Mama’s chest. It was disconcerting, too, that Mama kept calling her ‘baby.’ There were many sweet names Mama and Papa had for her, but that wasn’t among them and hadn’t been for some time. That was doubly true since Beth was told she was going to be a big sister. Feeling unsettled, the little girl began trying to put some distance between Mama and herself by pushing away. “Too tight Mama,” Beth complained.

Alta relinquished released Beth just enough to hold her at arm’s length and give her a slight shake. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? All of us have been searching for you for hours. The neighbors too!” Alta scolded. “Where did this blood on you come from? Are you hurt?”

The sudden change from soft murmuring and stifling cuddles to a stern demeanor left Beth a little dazed. She looked at Mama, observing her serious countenance and worried eyes, then shifted her gaze to Papa, noting his eyebrows were slanted in a frown. “You have?” she asked tentatively.

She sounded so shocked that Adam felt a surge of guilt. Had Beth really felt so neglected that she didn’t believe they’d notice her absence and come looking for her? He hoped that wasn’t so; that it was merely the disconnect between actions having consequences, common for her age. The fact that Beth was quite bright didn’t mean she always had the reasoning to match it.

Where Beth’s question prompted remorse in her father, it drew a sharp look from her mother, who swatted her backside.

“Mama!” The scandalized tone and look of censure on Beth’s face forced Adam to cover his mouth with his hand and smother any chuckles.

Face growing red, Beth stomped her foot. She realized at once that was a mistake as Mama made to swat her again. Beth managed to pull away and sought refuge with Papa, but he wasn’t looking all that sympathetic.

“You can stomp your foot again and we’ll put on a show for the whole neighborhood,” Adam warned. “Or you can answer your mother’s question, and we’ll go home quietly.” He caught Alta’s eye and the two shared a meaningful look. Neither of them wanted to go over the day’s events with Beth in the street. With a gentle push, Adam sent Beth back to Alta.

Alta’s eyebrow arched as she waited for Beth to answer her.

Rather than do so, the little girl’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “Which one?!” she squeaked. She didn’t notice Papa turn around, unable to take the unintentionally comedic show Beth was providing.

Sighing heavily, Alta willed herself to have patience. “Are you hurt? Where is this blood from?”

“Oh; that.” Beth rubbed at her face with dirty hands. “Somebody’s head bonked my nose. Maybe Dixon. Oh! I made new friends today.” She beamed at her exasperated mother. “But no, I don’t think I’m hurt. Not too much. If I am, it was worth it. I was Queen of the Dune, Mama!”

Unable to help herself, Alta’s eyes lit up. “Were you really?” She smiled as Beth nodded, beginning to bounce on her toes as she recalled the excitement. “I’m so proud of you!”

Beside her, Adam cleared his throat loudly.

Alta hurried to add, “But that kind of play is dangerous by yourself. I hope you realize that you’ve made some very poor choices today.”

Beth’s face fell. “Was being Queen of the Dune wrong?”

Scooping Beth up in her arms, Alta pressed a kiss to her head. “No, that wasn’t wrong.” She ignored the look Adam gave her. Alta refused to condemn her daughter’s goal and the bravery it took to achieve it. “But it was wrong that you were at the dune without anyone knowing where you were. I think you know where you went wrong today, and all the poor choices that followed. Don’t you?”

As the trio began walking towards home, Beth put her arms around Mama’s neck and pressed her face against her. She nodded to confirm Mama’s statement. Beth did know; only she had convinced herself no one would notice and so she wouldn’t get caught.

“I thought so,” Alta murmured. “We’ll talk about it more later. First, you’ll have a bath, and Mama will take care of all those battle wounds.”

That sounded nice, so Beth raised no objections. Her hands were starting to hurt! “Can I go be Queen of the Dunes again tomorrow, Mama?” She was blissfully unaware of the horrified looks her parents exchanged.

God help us.

————

“Ow! Mama! Ow! I don’t want it!” Beth squirmed to get away from her mother. Whatever was being dabbed on her scratches and scrapes stung but Mama held her fast between her knees.

Alta knew it didn’t sting as much as Beth was putting on. The girl hadn’t said a word about it while in a hot, soapy bath. Only now that she was out of the water did she kick up a fuss. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, Alta took a breath and let it out slowly. “I thought you were the Queen of the Dune?”

The little girl stopped her escape attempts and frowned. “I am!”

“After the battle you had to earn that title, I’m sure you’re brave enough for this.” Alta held up the bottle of witch hazel. “Your bruises tell me you’ve had bigger hurts today than this gives.” She bit back a smile as Beth gave her words serious consideration.

“You’re right, Mama. I’ll try to be still.” The six-year-old put on her bravest face as Mama continued to doctor her injuries. She still reacted, but the little gasps and whines were sincere as opposed to the dramatic shouting before. Her efforts were promptly praised, and Beth offered a smile in return.

“You know, I don’t think we’ll be able to save your dress,” Alta stated. “And I know your stockings are beyond repair. You’ll need new ones, but it’s wrong to destroy your nice things. What should we do about that?” The bottle of witch hazel was set aside but she cast a critical eye over Beth, wanting to be certain every injury, no matter how small, was properly tended. Satisfied, she let Beth wiggle into her nightdress.

Beth considered the question as she popped her head through the collar. “I got my birthday money from Grandpa,” she recalled. He’d given her two whole bits, along with a few presents. “I could pay for a new dress. But we should use the fabric for somethin’ else. Could I make something for Nora?”

The suggestions made Alta smile and give Beth a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good idea. We’ll talk to Papa about the dress and see what he says about your birthday money. Now what did you have in mind for Nora?”

“She can’t do much yet.” Beth let out a gusty sigh. “But she likes to grab things, like fingers, and hold ‘em. Maybe she’d like a…” There was a pause as she tried to sort out what she envisioned. “Some kind of dolly. Just all fabric so it can’t break. Do you think she might like that?” The little girl looked up at her mother hopefully.

“I think so. If not now, then very soon. We’ll do that for her, together, hm?” Alta felt as though they might be making some progress at last. She leaned down to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “You don’t dislike her then?”

Beth shook her head, her hair flinging drops of water as she did so, prompting Alta to reach for the towel to dry it further. “I onliest wish she’d share, like a good girl. Then I could be good, too.” The words were whispered, but heartfelt.

It was on the tip of her tongue to correct Beth’s grammar when the child’s words sank in. That explained quite a bit of the behaviors she and Adam were seeing if Alta’s suspicions were correct. “Share?” she repeated.

Beth’s eyes fell to the floor as her dark head bobbed up and down, this time making its point without dripping hair. “You and Papa. She doesn’t share and nobody remembers ‘bout me unless they’re mad.”

A pained look crossed Alta’s face. Immediately, she gathered the sorrowful little girl into her arms and snuggled Beth on her lap. “Is that why you’ve been acting so naughty lately?” When she nodded again, Alta held her daughter a little tighter. It didn’t sit right with her that Beth felt the only way to have her parents to herself was to purposefully misbehave; that negative attention was better than none. “Is that why you decided to leave the house today?”

Rather than answer, Beth buried her little face against Alta’s chest. The room fell silent as Alta held her close and carded her fingers through Beth’s dark hair. Still damp and unruly, it was beginning to curl and desperately needed brushing. That could wait; Beth’s tender heart couldn’t. After a few moments, she asked softly, “Do you know how I felt today when Papa said you were gone?”

Beth raised her head and looked into her mother’s eyes. “Mad.” She couldn’t imagine it was anything else!

Alta shook her head. “Frightened; terribly so. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more scared in my entire life.”

Dark eyebrows furrowed in confusion on the little face. That didn’t align with everything Beth knew about Mama. “You’re never scared of anything! You’re the bravest person I know.” While she didn’t entirely understand what a lawyer was, Beth knew Mama made important speeches in a special building in front of people. Mama had to make men listen to her, even if they didn’t want to, and talk to the judge, too. Judges seemed scary when sitting at their benches in the courtroom, but Mama was never afraid of them.

Smiling, Alta kissed Beth’s forehead, wondering how Adam might feel about their child’s assessment of who was the bravest parent. “Not today. I felt scared that we might not find you or that you were badly hurt. There is nothing and no one in this world that could replace you, Beth, ever. And no matter how old you are, you’ll always be my baby. My very first baby that I love so very much.”

“Even when I’m old like Papa?”

“Oh yes, even then.” Alta caressed her cheek. “Even when you’re as old as Grandpa.” There was no holding back the chuckle at Beth’s wide-eyed look at the thought of being so terribly old.

The sound of a baby’s hungry cry broke the tender moment between mother and oldest daughter. “Beth, listen to me carefully.” Alta’s tone was firm. “I’m not choosing Nora over you. Not now, or ever. She is very tiny and can’t do a thing for herself, unlike you. Mama must feed her now and I know Papa wants to speak to you. He and I will trade places, hm? Later we’ll cuddle more, I promise.”

Nodding obediently, Beth hugged her mother tightly, wishing she didn’t have to go to the baby. Oh, she didn’t begrudge her sister needing to be fed. Only where Mama had been gentle and given her cuddles, Papa was bound to do the opposite and Beth was not looking forward to that.

———–

Nora’s deafening cries for sustenance seemed to grow louder and it frustrated Adam that he was unable to soothe her. “All right, all right, we’ll get Mama,” he promised, carrying the tiny, but exceptionally loud, baby girl upstairs.

The increased volume as Adam and Nora came closer to the door of Beth’s room did not go unnoticed. “She’s very hungry,” Beth observed. “Mama?” She looked up at Alta once more. “I’m sorry I made you afraid.”

Alta hugged the little girl tightly and kissed her cheeks. “Apology accepted.” With one last squeeze, she set Beth on her feet again and left the room to find her squalling baby.

The search was a quick one, with Adam just outside the door holding Nora in his arms. “Ooh, little one,” Alta tutted, taking the baby from him. “What lungs you have.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Adam reaching for the handle of Beth’s door. “A word first.” Without explaining further, Alta moved down the hallway and into their bedroom to nurse and expected him to follow. She wasn’t disappointed.

Adam stopped just inside the doorway to lean against the frame and waited patiently until Nora was feeding. “What’s on your mind?”

“You need to talk to her Adam.”

His mouth set in annoyance. “What did you think I was about to do?”

“Husband, you do try my patience. I don’t mean your little Cartwright euphemism that you all think is so clever,” Alta replied, her tone brimming with sarcasm. “Actually speak with her. Be gentle—”

“Be gentle?!” Adam’s voice rose slightly. “You can’t be serious.”

Alta’s lips thinned. “If you’d be so kind as to let me finish speaking?” He glowered but fell silent. “Be gentle with your approach because her heart is hurting and that’s on us. A good way to begin repairing that is by having a conversation with her. She needs you to be understanding and reassuring.”

His eyes rolled heavenward. “What she needs is a good spanking.”

“Do you hear me saying otherwise?” Alta challenged.

“I can’t believe you’re sitting there, defending her actions.” Adam’s angry gaze swept over her, as though looking for where the woman who swatted Beth in the street went.

“You will get no argument from me that this is, by far, the worst she’s ever behaved. Combining it with everything of late, and it’s beyond enough. But I know my daughter, and we, as her parents, need to reassure her that we love her, no matter what. Regardless of whatever she might do, or however many babies we may have, we love her unconditionally and she cannot be replaced. She believes she has been,” Alta pointed out. “And she adores you, Adam. If you don’t go in there and set things right, go straight to a spanking, you’ll break her heart.

“We are partners, these are our children, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t make it plain to you,” she continued.  “You can go in there, lay down the law, and punish her. Or you can make her understand she’s still important to you, then respond appropriately to what she’s done. One will confirm Beth’s fears that we love her less than Nora. The other will reassure her and teach her to obey because she loves and respects you. You decide what kind of father you want to be.” Alta’s eyes met Adam’s and held them. “But don’t take too long to make up your mind.”

The parents looked at one another, each firm in their belief of what was the right course of action for their child. Neither was willing to give, and the stalemate-come-staring-contest continued silently while Nora ate hungrily from her mother’s breast, blissfully unaware of the discord.

At last, hazel eyes gentled and blinked, conceding to the opposing pools of vivid emerald with a weary sigh. “And here I thought I might have it easier with daughters than Pa did with sons.”

Alta’s finely shaped eyebrows arched mischievously. “My dearest, foolish husband. You married the wrong woman if you wanted simple, quiet, or angelic children.” She was barely able to keep the laughter from her voice.

Mouth twitching with amusement, he deadpanned, “Didn’t I just?” As Alta scrunched up her nose, Adam brushed a conciliatory kiss onto her forehead. “Be careful, your face might just freeze that way.” Her warm, melodic laughter followed him as he turned to leave.

———–

With his wife’s words of wisdom—or warning—ringing in his ears, Adam raised a hand to knock on Beth’s door. He hesitated, uncertain of what was waiting for him on the other side: the exuberant little girl they found out at the dunes, rather oblivious to her wrongdoings? Or a contrite child beginning to grasp that her behavior was outrageous? That was truly the only label Adam could put on it. He couldn’t imagine doing even half the things Beth did of late.

Then again, her childhood stood in stark contrast to his own, much like Joe’s had. Chasing a dream by fits and starts, at times experiencing plenty and others a hungry belly, having happiness and losing it, focusing on a future that would make all the sacrifice worth it. There was little time to play, and disobedience could carry life and death consequences.

Being Pa’s right hand man for as long as he remembered, Adam never had the opportunity to be outrageous, should he have wanted to. The security of achieving that dream, the Ponderosa, and all that came with it, made way for Joe to have the freedom to be outrageous. Suddenly, Adam felt as if he understood his youngest brother—and his daughter—better.

He knocked briefly on Beth’s door and waited for a beat before opening it, half-expecting Beth to launch into a plea for leniency, or at the very least acknowledge his entrance. Instead, Adam met a silence that hung so heavy and thick, a mote of dust shifting could be heard. The oppressiveness of it made him uneasy, his shoulders tensing and eyebrows furrowing in response.

The sight of Beth only added to his discomfort. She sat with her arms wrapped tightly around her shins, hugging her knees to her chest, little fingers, with faint bruising on the knuckles, interlaced. Face pressed tightly against her knees, she was hiding away in the folds of her green gingham nightdress, just her bare toes brave enough to peep out from beneath the hem. Dark hair, still damp from her bath, lay tangled and unbrushed around Beth’s hunched shoulders.

The absence of the unabashed glee he saw earlier, which at the time made him want to laugh and shake her in equal measures, was made even more noticeable by her uncharacteristic silence. Between that and her posture, Beth seemed prepared, even waiting, for the very sky itself to come crashing down on her.

Adam closed the door, shaking his head as if trying to clear the ridiculous thoughts away. Yet as it shut firmly, he saw Beth flinch and paused. At the absurdly loud noise it created that tore through the oppressive silence, perhaps. Or the finality of that action and what was to follow? He remembered that feeling all too well. Thinking back on their interactions of late, the idea that she might truly be that worried about his reaction began to feel less far-fetched. Adam had not been patient and the attention Beth received from him wasn’t positive, either.

The lengthening of the dead air between them only tightened the grip that nervousness had on Beth’s stomach. Papa didn’t frighten her; nor the quiet either, but both baffled her at that moment. The alteration in the all-too-familiar pattern of late (Papa arriving to ring a peal over her head and deliver punishment) made her uneasy. A thought popped into her head that made Beth shiver. Is Papa so mad he can’t even talk? A part of her couldn’t imagine Papa running out of words, due to anger or anything else.

Suddenly, her mind began spinning wildly and a sense of panic took hold. What if Papa just plain wasn’t going to talk to her anymore as punishment? What else could the absence of any speaking at all mean? Inhaling sharply, Beth turned her head to the side just a bit and peeked at Papa, trying to gauge if that frightening thought might be accurate.

An eyebrow quirked as a hazel orb suddenly peeped through long, dark lashes at him. A flicker of apprehension was visible in that one eye as it thoroughly scrutinized him. “There you are,” Adam spoke quietly. “For a moment, I thought your nightdress was slowly gobbling you up.” As Beth’s head fully turned towards him and she sat up, he watched a quick-fire succession of emotions play over her face. From eyes round with shock to narrow with wariness, to an anxious pulling up of her lower lip between her teeth, his child made an intense study of him.

Shifting restlessly on the bed, Beth stretched her legs out in front of her briefly before pulling them to her chest once again. Now resting her chin on top of her knees, she examined Papa’s face closely for a moment, before her gaze fell away, sliding to the pattern of her nightdress. Beth exhaled and almost seemed to deflate. “That’s a silly thing to say,” she ventured. Her index finger began tracing the design of her pajamas. “Clothes can’t eat anyone up.”

Adam nearly laughed at how serious her tone was, as though she felt he needed a firm reminder of reality; or worse, was questioning his sanity. He quickly turned the chuckle into a cough, but before he could respond, she continued.

“Are you going to shout at me now?”

The resignation in that softly spoken question made him wince. “Do you want me to?” Adam posed his query in a voice just as hushed. He watched Beth’s head pop up like a jack-in-a-box and stare at him in astonishment before tentatively offering a, “No, sir.”

“I didn’t think so. I’ve done a lot of that lately, haven’t I?” He felt saddened when she bobbed her head in enthusiastic agreement. “It hasn’t done much good, if today is anything to go by,” he concluded wearily. “Though don’t get any ideas that you aren’t in serious trouble, young lady.” There was no point in letting her think otherwise. “I want you to tell me what was going on in that bright head of yours today. And I don’t mean anything about the game on the dune,” he preempted.

Beth shook her head, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “I can’t, Papa!”

The distress in her voice propelled Adam away from where he was leaning against the door. He crossed the room and crouched beside the bed, then reached for Beth, pulling her to the side of it so they were eye-to-eye. “You can’t what?” he asked gently.

“It wasn’t in my head.” Beth’s face crumpled as she began to cry. “Here.” She reached for him, or so he thought; instead, Beth put her palm flat on his chest, over his heart.

Does Alta ever get tired of being right?

That one, simple word, matched with the placement of her hand, was devastating. Without a second’s hesitation, Adam scooped her up from the bed and into his arms in one sweeping motion. Almost as if she was a puzzle piece locking into place, Beth’s small arms slipped around his neck, clinging tight. Her red, tear-streaked face disappeared against his black shirt. Doing so muffled her sobs but didn’t stop them, as her trembling shoulders and shuddering breaths on the fabric testified to. The sad sound made Adam tighten his hold instinctively.

Placing a broad palm against Beth’s back, he started to move his hand in slow circles, applying a gentle, grounding pressure. He kept at it, steady and patient, as though working at a sore muscle—or trying to smooth away the sobs themselves. Adam couldn’t say how many minutes he rubbed her back, even swayed a bit on his feet. What he did know was that he hurt alongside her every second. Slowly but surely, the persistence paid off. The sobbing eased, her ragged breathing gradually evened, and the tension ebbed away, allowing her to rest easily in his arms.

As Beth relaxed, her hands unlocked from around his neck, though she still felt an instinctive need to anchor herself to him in some fashion. Her fingers sought his shirt and curled softly into it, lightly tugging the fabric.

He sensed more than felt the faint pulling at his shirt and responded by pressing a soft kiss into her hair. Briefly, he rested his cheek on top of her dark curls. “That was a big cry,” Adam observed, letting his voice, nearly a whisper, rumble soothingly in her ear. Lifting his head, he offered Beth a look of reassuring softness. “Feeling a bit better now, moonbeam? Ready to talk about what brought on all those tears?”

At the sound of her nickname, Beth went still in his arms. Slowly, her head lifted, revealing wide eyes flickering with surprise. Uncertainty lingered on her face and Adam inwardly cringed. Has it been that long since I last called her my moonbeam? Time moved differently for small children, but it was possible that it truly had been some time.

When Papa’s face didn’t waver in the soothing look it offered, anxiety slipped away from Beth’s. Her brows were no longer furrowed and the reticence in her eyes disappeared. Almost shy now, Beth nestled against him comfortably, still anchored to him by his shirt, and answered the question with a dip of her head.

“Good girl,” Adam praised. The simple words drew a little smile from Beth as he carried her over towards the bed. He watched in amusement when it was replaced by a frown the moment he put his feet up to stretch out with his back against the headboard. He followed her gaze right to his dusty boots. “I’ll tell Mama it was me if she gets cross.” That seemed to satisfy his daughter, so the pair settled comfortably together.

Doing so gave Adam the first real change to get a look at her face since the epic battle and subsequent bath. Gently hooking a finger under her chin, he raised Beth’s head slowly to take a look. The sight of the black eye drew a low whistle. “You are a Cartwright, through and through, aren’t you?” He fought back a smile and noted Beth did the same, uncertain whether she should be proud of her efforts at the dune or not.

“You’re certainly not calm like a moonbeam, are you?” Now he lost the battle as the corners of his lips turned up. “You’re still constant and full of light, so we’ll keep that, hm?” Beth was still every bit as magical a creation now as she was as an infant. He never ceased to wonder at everything she was and would become. Even days like today didn’t change that.

Despite the gentle tone and the smile tugging at his lips, the comment about her lack of tranquility sent Beth’s gaze downward to study the fabric of his shirt with considerable intensity. “Papa? I’m sorry.”

I’ve heard that so often lately. “Tell me what you’re apologizing for,” Adam encouraged.

“Leaving by myself. And making Mama scared. Did you know Mama could ever be afraid?” The awe still felt by this news caused Beth to raise her head up briefly, as though searching to see if Papa knew that.

The absolute admiration of Alta that shone on Beth’s face in that moment was a picture. “Mama told me she forgave you. And yes, as strange as it may seem, Mama can be frightened sometimes, and you managed just that today.”

Once more, Beth’s head bobbed down to study his shirt. Adam never knew it was that interesting. “We agree that wasn’t something you should do, don’t we? You’re not allowed to leave the house without permission. And when I send you to your room, I expect you to stay there. You understand that. Don’t you?” A slight edge of sternness slid into his tone now. He only just caught the barely whispered, “Yes, sir.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “Good, we know what rules you broke and what you’ll be punished for. Right now, I want to know why.” Adam had a surfeit of ‘why’ questions about her recent behavior and hoped to get at least a few of them answered.

“Everyone wanted Nora and not me. Maybe nobody would know I’m gone. Or feel happy. Then you wouldn’t have to shout no more. And…” Beth’s voice trailed off, and she shifted uncomfortably in his lap, the confession of her feelings difficult. She never used to have problems talking to Papa!

Adam gave her a gentle squeeze. “And?”

The little girl drew in a shaky breath, uncertain how her father might respond to her admission. Then, bravely, Beth raised her head to look Papa in the eye. What she wished to see there, the little girl didn’t know, but look for it she did. “I didn’t like being bad, but I had to.”

The fingers still curled into his shirt held on tighter now, as though the firmer grip strengthened her courage. “You were just with Nora unless I was. I missed you, Papa.” It was never truly about going to the library, seeing the steam shovelers, or any of the other things her parents did with her. She simply needed them.

Before Adam could even begin to respond, Beth’s face was pressed to his chest once more. He was proud of her for telling the truth yet crushed by her words. Little did he know she had one last blow to deliver.

“Papa?” Her voice was small and muffled by his shirt. “Why don’t you like me anymore?” The words emerged with the raw kind of hurt only a child could express so easily.

His eyes squeezed shut as he sucked in a sharp breath, the sound catching in his throat. Chest tightening, a few beats passed before he could shakily exhale. Knowing the question was asked innocently didn’t make it less painful.

On opening his eyes, Adam found Beth sharply watching him, her brows drawn downwards in a frown. Her hazel orbs, the mirror of his own, were awash with uncertainty as she searched his face for something.

“Beth; oh, Beth.” Murmuring her name like a prayer, he drew the little girl closer, resting his cheek on top of her head while holding her tight. “Nothing, absolutely nothing, you could ever do or ever say would make me stop loving or liking you.”

Raising his head, Adam tried to catch Beth’s eye, but her gaze locked onto his shirt once more. For now, he let it remain there. “Not today, not a thousand days like this one. You don’t have to earn my love. You already have it; always have and always will. Do you hear me?”

When Beth didn’t respond, Adam cupped her chin to gently tilt her head back, greeting her hopeful face with warm, steady eyes. She heard me, but does she believe me? “I love you just as you are.” His words were spoken with surety as he tried to ease any lingering doubts. “You are my one and only Beth and that is all you need to be.”

Beth’s fingers clasped at Adam’s shirt again, but the soft tug was different this time. Rather than seeking an anchor, she tried to close any space between them. She leaned into him, eyes locked onto his own, listening closely with every part of her being.

“You don’t have to follow certain rules or do anything to be loved, Beth. You just are, always, and that never stops. Even when you’re naughty or a new baby comes, none of that makes a difference. You have a whole, special place right inside my heart that’s all your own. No one else could ever be my little ball of wonder, my moonbeam,” he promised.

“Not in a hundred years?”

The question was put to him with such earnest reverence that Adam nearly smiled. Only the fact that it was such a weighty matter kept him from doing so. “Not in a hundred thousand years.”

A soft gasp escaped as she realized the enormity of that number and considered how very long it might take to count that high. A hundred thousand years! The very thought of such a span of time, stretching out into eternity, made a considerable dent in the insecurity she felt. Papa’s voice, calm and sincere, and his eyes, full of love, did away with the rest. She reached for Adam’s neck again, hugging him tightly, the words echoing in her mind: a hundred thousand years. Could anything even be that old? Beth set that question aside to ask Papa later.

He gently loosened her arms a bit, telling her softly, “Papa’s gotta breathe.” Beth hid a tiny giggle against his shoulder in response. That beautiful sound brought such a profound release that his eyes shut to sharpen his ability to hear it. She’ll be all right; we will be all right.

Adam kissed her head once more, feeling thankful for her resilience. “You know that you can always talk to me, don’t you? About anything at all, even hard things; especially hard things. You don’t have to let that hurt build up inside the way it did this time. You never have to feel alone or be afraid to tell me something.”

Beth sat back, scrutinizing him and the sincerity of those words, with a look on her face that Adam couldn’t quite place. Finally, a dark eyebrow quirked, and Beth imitated one of his own stern gazes. “Papa.”

The amount of exasperation in that one word made Adam bite his lip to keep from laughing. That’s my girl. He’d rather have the borderline sass than the tears any day.

“I did try to talk to you. Many, many, many times.” Hands on her hips, Beth stared him down.

His brows rose high enough to nearly disappear into his hairline. “That many, huh? Let’s think about that for a second. Did you say, ‘Papa, can I please talk to you, it’s very important’? Or did you shout and stamp your feet and demand I listen to you?”

The bravado of a moment ago slipped from the little girl’s face, replaced by consternation as her face grew warm. Beth’s gaze shifted from Papa’s face back to his shirt yet again, seeking its familiar comfort with her fingers. One digit began tracing the placket’s stitching.

“Oh.” After a beat, she added. “Those aren’t the same.”

“That’s right, my bright girl, they are not,” Adam confirmed. He reached for her hands and held them tenderly in his own. “Can you look at me and explain what makes them different?” Quiet praise was given when Beth raised her head.

“One is respectful, and the other one isn’t. I think I was doing the one that isn’t,” she confessed. “But I should do the respectful one; ask and say please.”

“I’m not scolding you for the choices you made before. But it’s important to see they are not the same. If you need to talk to me about something that’s important to you, be respectful and I will always listen. If you aren’t, then I won’t listen, and you’ll be in trouble instead. Understand?”

“Understand. I promise!” Beth bobbed her head to underscore her words. “Papa? Are we done now?”

Adam brushed stray curls from her forehead, wishing that it could be the end of things but knowing it couldn’t. How can I put her heart back together, only to make her cry all over again? But all she’s had recently is unpredictable changes; she’s begging for consistency and boundaries. I always thought Pa was exaggerating, if not outright fibbing, when he said disciplining us hurt him worse.

He braced himself for the challenging task ahead and responded, “No, we’re not done yet.”

There was a finality in his tone that she recognized. Beth looked away, the corners of her lips tugging downward as a flush crept up her neck and onto her face. “I knew you were going to say that,” she murmured.

Resigned to her fate, and giving a sigh worthy of the greatest dramatic actress, Beth slid from his lap and onto the floor.

The lack of genuine protest or pleas for leniency confirmed Adam’s instincts. Beth needed the consistency of his response as much as she needed the lesson on obedience. He moved to sit at the edge of the mattress and placed his hands on Beth’s shoulders, guiding her to stand between his knees. “Look at me,” he directed, quiet but firm. Adam waited for her to comply, forcing himself to ignore the tears already shining in her eyes.

“Don’t ever leave the house without telling Mama and I again. It’s not safe. You could get hurt, or worse. We’d never be okay if that happened because we can’t replace you. Do you understand?” If she took any lesson at all away from this, Adam wanted it to be that one and he had to be sure she understood, so there was no room for misinterpretation.

Beth was caught off guard by Papa speaking so urgently and something in his eyes she couldn’t quite identify. The last few (several) times, he’d been brusque, annoyed, even angry with her. Today was different, and she sensed great importance in the shift. Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out why. “Papa? Does that come from here?”

Once more, she placed her hand on his chest, over his heart, confirming for Adam that she was paying close attention. He nodded solemnly, putting a hand over hers.

She swallowed hard, her lower lip beginning to quiver. “I understand.”

Having said all that was necessary, Adam put her across his knee. Beth discovered that while Papa’s words might have changed, his hand didn’t at all!

—————

The transition to soothing was immediate. Adam was up on his feet with Beth, who always responded best to movement when she needed calming. He chalked it up to her desire to always be doing something; mind, body, or both. Beth’s legs went around him as he rose, her face seeking the comfort of his shirt once again. His arms kept her steady, one around her torso hugging her to his chest, and another near a knee, ensuring she was well anchored.

With long, even strides, he started to pace the floor. Adding a gentle sway, along with a steady stream of reassurances spoken in low, soft tones, he worked to console her. The tears subsided more with each turn around the room until she grew relaxed and heavy in his arms.

“There now,” Adam whispered gently. “You’re all right.” He smiled as she nodded, confirming his words, and kissed her head in response. “Brave girl. Are you holding on tight enough?” She felt secure enough to him, but Adam wanted to be certain that Beth felt the same. He smiled as she adjusted to latch on more firmly.

As they made another turn around the room, Adam paused beside her dresser and brushed his hand across the head of a stuffed rabbit. Made of yellow floral fabric, the toy had seen better days. One ear was heavily faded from being worried by Beth’s little fingers, loose threads hung from one arm, and a seam under the other was coming undone. The rabbit didn’t often leave her room these days, serving mainly as extra comfort at night or moments like these.

Moving it towards the edge of the dresser, Adam glanced at Beth and tilted his head in that direction, both eyebrows raised in a silent question. He watched her look towards the bunny, then back at him, the corners of her lips turning up.

With a hum of acknowledgement, he placed the toy gently in her hands. A wide grin blossomed across Beth’s face as she tucked the rabbit under her arm. “Looks like you two went adventuring recently,” Adam observed, pointing out the more tattered areas.

Beth nodded, lightly touching the broken seam. “I was lonely,” she whispered.

The words tugged at Adam’s heart, and he tenderly kissed her cheek.

“Marigold got caught in the tree and I had to pull her down.”

Expecting Beth to continue, Adam was disconcerted when the story ended with that statement. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he slowly nodded. “I see,” Adam responded, his tone filled with great understanding. The father didn’t really see at all but wisely decided not to ask any of the questions raised by the idea of the rabbit—and Beth—up in a tree. Whatever occurred, it didn’t take place today. Adam was content to leave well enough alone rather than risk more tears.

“I’m sure Mama could fix Marigold up nicely if you asked. Should we go find her?” His brow furrowed when Beth shook her head no.

“Papa, I can do it. I know how.” She examined the open seam once more, as if scrutinizing an intricate puzzle, then gave a gusty sigh. “Mama’s stitches are small and straight, on the parts still together. Mine aren’t very good like that yet. I will ask Mama to help me to do it nice.”

The worried expression on his face shifted to one of pride at her independent streak. “That’s my girl,” Adam praised, his voice soft and warm with approval. “Hey; look at me.”

Her attention moved away from the rabbit as Beth raised her head, glancing at him curiously.

He smiled gently, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “Do you know something?”

A shy grin spread over her face. “Oh, Papa, sure I do,” she responded confidently. “Lots of things!”

Resting his forehead against hers, Adam chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “You’re a bright girl,” he confirmed. “But do you know much I love you, moonbeam?”

Her nose scrunched up as she considered the matter thoroughly. Rather than wait for a response, Adam proceeded to whisper the answer. “More than all the trees on the Ponderosa and just as big and strong.” Beth’s eyes grew round and wide, her mouth opening in surprise, and Adam knew he had picked just the right image to make his point.

“Are you picturing them in your mind? How they go on for miles, acres, and acres, so far you can’t even see the end?” he prompted. Her head bobbed so quickly it nearly collided with his. “Good. Promise me you’ll remember that’s how much I love you, always.”

Beth gave her word solemnly and latched on to his neck for the umpteenth time that day, with all the force she had within her, squeezing tightly. “I’m going to tell Grandpa about that!”

She missed the surprised wheeze her father made, somewhere between laughter and protest at the enthusiastic grip. Resigning himself to it, Adam gently patted her back for a second before moving to adjust the strength of her hold. “You’re getting to be as strong as Uncle Hoss,” he teased. Watching her dissolve into a fit of giggles at his words was well worth the strangling. “Come on, let’s go find Mama.”

He moved to set Beth on her feet when a laugh-filled, “Noooooooo,” made him pause, her feet just inches from the floor. “Noooooo?” Adam repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Carry me!” Beth’s eyes sparkled impishly. “Please?”

The sound of mock outrage he made, combined with his wide-eyed expression of feigned horror, drew more giggles from her as she wiggled in mid-air. “Carry you?” Adam tsked disapprovingly. “I suppose; if you insist.”

Adam immediately swung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, grinning as Beth squealed in delight. He looped an arm around her legs to hold her in place as she playfully protested—or so he assumed, since the giggles rendered her almost unintelligible.

“Oh, was this not what you meant? Hmm, well, that’s too bad; off we go.” Adam bounced her a little before carrying her out of the room and towards the stairs.

On their arrival in the great room, he immediately noticed Alta’s inquiring, worried face, though Beth was too busy to do so. After a moment catching his breath, Adam turned his daughter right side up to bring her to Alta. “I have a giggling sack of flour here. Quite a commodity, really. Any interest?” He caught her eye and offered a reassuring nod over Beth’s head. When concern turned to a smirk of self-satisfaction, Adam rolled his eyes dramatically.

“So much interest,” Alta agreed. As she reached for Beth, she stuck her tongue out at Adam just out of the child’s eyesight.

Sitting at the other end of the settee, Ben smiled at his granddaughter. Beth only had eyes for her parents now but looked happier than he had seen her in days.

“Oh, Adam, her hair!” Alta cast a scathing look at her husband while Beth snuggled up close. “You were up there with her all that time, and you couldn’t once brush it, or tell her to? Full of knots.”

Reaching for a cup to pour himself some coffee, Adam paused and glanced at Alta, raising an eyebrow. “Was I supposed to?” Though asked sincerely, the way that her mouth thinned in annoyance made it clear she thought otherwise. “You didn’t ask me to.”

The Cartwright patriarch winced on Adam’s behalf. That won’t go over well.

Eyes full of fire, Alta shot back, “And you don’t see with your eyes and solve the problems in front of them?”

Beth burst into a fresh round of giggles, her eyes dancing with merriment. Papa was in trouble!

Raising his hands in surrender, Adam moved away from the coffee. “Point taken.” He beckoned Beth towards him. “We’re going back up to take care of that wild hair of yours. How would milady prefer to travel?”

Alta sighed, but smiled, as Beth gave the predictable answer and Adam swung her over his shoulder again. “Braid her hair before you come back, if you intend to keep carting her around that way.” Her heart felt light as she watched, knowing they had reconnected once again. How she loves her papa.

Nearby, Nora cooed, as if to remind all assembled of her presence. Rising, Alta moved towards the cradle and began rocking it gently. “Don’t worry darling.” Her tone was gentle and lilting, halfway between speaking and song. “Papa will play with you like that, too.”

——————

Beth spent the remainder of the day basking in the glow of attention from her parents and grandfather. When bedtime came, it took little effort on her part to cajole both men into reading to her. Tucked snuggly into bed, cuddled up between the two, their calm, steady voices lulled her to sleep. Adam and Ben read a few pages more, just to be certain she wouldn’t wake again, then eased themselves up from the bed and tiptoed out of the room.

Adam quietly shut the door behind them and rested his forehead against it. He smiled faintly at the feel of Ben’s hand on his shoulder but didn’t lift his head. “Pa?”

“Yes, son?” A gentle squeeze of the patriarch’s hand accompanied the quiet response.

“I’m sorry.”

Ben’s brows flickered upward in surprise, then downward in a frown. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Adam might be apologizing for, and looking at the man gave him no clarity. The posture and tone spoke of a weariness that he knew all too well. When Adam chose not to elaborate, he pressed him gently. “Whatever for?”

Standing up straight, the younger man met his father’s eyes and exhaled softly. “For every day I ever gave you like the one I had today,” Adam responded at last.

“Ah.” Ben nodded, recalling days when he, too, must have sounded that exhausted. “Those were forgiven a long time ago. And you were worth each one of those days, and then some.” He offered the younger man an encouraging smile. “Quite an ordeal then, I take it?”

Adam gave a humorless chuckle. “You have no idea. Let me recap the devastating blows of one Elizabeth Frances Cartwright for you over a brandy. She’s a hell of sharpshooter.”

“Did you think Cartwright daughters would be easier than sons?” Ben teased. He stifled his laughter when the look on Adam’s face made it clear that was precisely what he thought. Ben patted his son’s shoulder before leading the way downstairs.

The baby was tucked up in a cradle near the fireplace, snug and warm, and brandies were ready on the coffee table when they arrived in the great room. Alta passed one to Ben with a smile, but held back the second glass, an impish look on her face.

Adam groaned loudly, his face contorted into a grimace. “Oh, will you stop.” He reached for the glass, only for her to move it further out of his reach and wag her head. “Are you really going to do this?”

She laughed wickedly. “Please, do you really think I’m going to pass up this chance? I thought you’d know me better than that after all this time, husband.” Still dangling the glass out of his reach, holding it by just the tips of her fingers, Alta hummed impatiently.

Eyebrows raised, Ben stayed silent and brought his glass to a comfortable armchair. He took a small drink and nodded at the quality.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Adam glowered. “How long are you going to keep up this unbecoming behavior, exactly?”

Alta shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s up to you; I just need three little words. Pa?”

Somewhat startled at being drawn into whatever they were doing, Ben almost spilled his drink. “Yes?” he answered warily.

“Very good, isn’t it? The brandy. Quite good, hm?”

The mischief in her eyes begged him to play along and Ben found himself nodding in agreement. “Excellent in fact.” He threw a glance at Adam before taking another sip.

A spark of merriment entered Adam’s eyes. “I could just get the bottle and end all this now.”

“Certainly.” She nodded slowly, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Be my guest. If you can find it.”

Moaning as if he’d been struck in the gut, Adam dropped onto the settee. “You’re a mean, cruel woman, Alta Cartwright.” When his glare only made her giggle, he raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, fine,” he ground out. “You were right.”

Alta bit back a squeal and pounced onto the settee beside him. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear you,” she taunted. Eyes wide, her voice filled with delight she begged, “Say it again!”

“Give me my drink, brat.” Adam grabbed it from her with one hand as the other pulled her onto his lap. “You were right,” he whispered in her ear, voice like a soft purr. “And I hate you for it.”

Tutting softly, Alta kissed his temple. “You do not,” she asserted with confidence. “And if you can’t be right, isn’t it lovely that I can be? Shall I stroke your ego for you darling?” She began petting his hair the way she did when comforting Beth.

Closing his eyes, Adam let out an exaggerated sigh of impatience. “Where did I find you and why didn’t I leave you there?” he asked. Setting aside the drink, he cupped her face with his hands and drew her closer for a brief, but satisfying kiss.

Alta hummed and sat back, smiling. “At a party where you rudely asked if I knew the law and then tracked me to my office. Very forward of you. It’s a good thing we’re married now, or I might call you out for that.”

When he started to laugh, she handed him the abandoned drink, and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “Can I hear it one more time?”

“No!”

———-

Bright and early the following morning, Adam woke Beth, signaling for her to be quiet with a finger to his lips. Hair escaping from her braid, she nodded in understanding and reached her arms out towards him. A smile lit up her face as Adam swung her into his arms and whisked her downstairs. The chill of fall was in the air this time of day and he pulled a quilt from the settee to wrap her in as they passed through the great room.

At the table, he sat down in front of two plates of breakfast and a newspaper with Beth on his lap. He took care to tuck the warm folds of the quilt around her. “Cozy?” Adam chuckled as she nodded, a warm biscuit with a bite missing already in her hand. “Hungry, too, I see.” He placed a glass of milk next to her plate and poured a cup of coffee for himself, then reached for the newspaper.

“What section should we start with today? World news? Local politics?” Without looking up from the paper or even pausing in his recitation of potential areas of interest, he reclaimed his coffee from her hands. “You wouldn’t even like it,” Adam pointed out for the hundredth time or more. By the time he did so, Beth’s attention had shifted to a column on the front page.

“Read it out loud,” he encouraged.

“He finds himself…charged,” Beth spoke slowly. “With two cases of…” Stopping, she looked up at Adam quizzically. “Papa, what’s that say?”

Setting aside his coffee, Adam looked to where her finger pointed at a printed word. “Burglary.”

Beth’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Let’s read this one! Maybe Mama is in this story.”

The sheer joy in her tone caused Adam to throw back his head and laugh, while silently promising himself never to give up these moments with her ever again.

 

THE END