Summary: 1863 has arrived, and the Cartwrights face a hard winter. Their faith in God and each other is tested as both Ben and Josie face life-threatening situations and Adam must trust his instincts – and the local Paiute tribe – to save them. And in the end, they will all have to trust one another to endure a visit from some surprise visitors.

Rating:   T  (39,200 words)

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Fervently Do We Pray
Book 4 of A HOUSE UNITED series

 

Ponderosa Ranch
Nevada Territory
1863

            Josie didn’t tell her family back East right away that she planned to stay permanently in Nevada. No one would expect her to return until the war was over, so there was no need to stir the pot just yet. Her parents would accept her decision, but Aunt Rachel probably wouldn’t. She didn’t care one way or the other about Aunt Rachel’s opinion, but she didn’t want Mama to have to bear Rachel’s rage. Uncle Ben and her cousins, however, were overjoyed when she told them at breakfast one morning in early January that she didn’t want to return to Washington when the war was over and asked if she could stay on the Ponderosa. Little Joe let out a whoop that shook the windows, and Hoss grabbed her by the waist and swung her around. Adam grinned so broadly he thought his face would split.

“Josephine, that’s wonderful!” Ben exclaimed. “Of course you can stay! Remember me telling you that I didn’t know how we ever got along without you?”

Josie blushed. “I didn’t want to presume.”

“You didn’t presume anything,” Adam interjected. “Besides, in a couple of months, you’re going to have the prettiest clinic anyone’s ever seen.”

Josie grinned. She was so excited over her clinic she thought she might burst, and she prayed every night for the snow to stop so Adam could begin construction.

But the snow continued despite her fervent prayers. By mid-January, it was so deep she didn’t dare try to ride into town for work. She tried walking out to the barn one morning to check on Scout, but halfway there she got stuck in snow up to her waist and had to holler for help. Hoss was more than happy to pull her free, but not before he had a good laugh. Even Pip was unhappy. Every time he came into the house from a brief sojourn outside to relieve himself, his belly and scruffy beard were coated in tiny snowballs.

One morning toward the end of the month, Ben and Hoss stepped onto the porch, looked up at the clear, blue sky and decided they’d have a break in the snowfall, at least until that evening.

“Think I’ll go into town and pick us up a few more groceries,” Hoss said.

“Good idea,” Ben said. “I’m gonna ride up into the high country and check my traps. Probably nothing in them with all this snow, but at least it’ll get me out of the house.”

“Don’t be out too late, Pa. I expect it’ll start snowin’ again tonight.”

Ben nodded and went back inside to see if anyone wanted to go with him.

“No thanks, Pa,” Adam said. “It’s colder than a polar bear’s nose out there. Besides, I was going to catch up on some of our inventory.”

“Me either, Pa,” Little Joe said. “I’m just gonna stay inside where it’s nice and warm.”

Ben rolled his eyes and turned toward Josie, who was just emerging from the kitchen. “How about it, Josie? Want to go for a ride with your old uncle?”

Josie raised a cup of tea and the copy of Les Misérables she had swiped from Adam’s room and smiled apologetically. “No thanks. I’m all set. But you should take Pip with you. He could use a good run.”

Ben glanced at the enormous hound, who had topped out at 160 pounds and was now snoring next to the fire. “What do you say, Pip? Wanna go with me?”

The dog’s head snapped up at the sound of his name, and he bounced to his feet and trotted to Ben, where he sat and leaned against his legs. Ben scratched his ears. “At least someone is excited to go with me,” he muttered. “I’ll be back by suppertime,” he told Adam, Josie, and Little Joe, who all nodded. “Come on, Pip. Let’s go!”

Ben and Pip trudged through the snow to the barn, where Ben saddled up Buck and swung into the saddle. He shivered. Maybe the kids were right about staying in today. The temperature was below freezing, and he was glad he’d brought the scarf Josie had given him for Christmas. By the time he and Pip reached the first of his traps two hours later, he wished he’d stayed home. He was half-frozen, and as he had expected, the traps were empty, and the fresh snow revealed no tracks.

“Come on, Pip,” he said resignedly. “Let’s go home and have some hot coffee.”

Pip wagged happily but then stiffened and let out a low growl. The hair on his shoulders and the back of his neck bristled and stood straight up.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Ben asked. Then he heard it: another growl from the ridge above him, but not a dog’s growl. This was a higher, snarling sound. He snapped his head around and spotted a tawny mountain lion poised to pounce from the ridge. Stomach lurching, he dropped the reins and reached for his rifle just as Buck whinnied frantically and reared up. Ben flew backward off his horse and crashed onto a large rock underneath the snow. Something popped in his left shoulder, and he bellowed in pain even as the wind was knocked from him. Buck whinnied again and tore off.

“No,” Ben gasped. His shoulder screamed, and his entire left side felt like he was being stabbed with a dozen knives. He had to have broken some ribs. All he could do was watch his horse run off without him. Another loud snarl from the ridge brought his attention back to the mountain lion, and he pulled his revolver from its holster and fired a shot in that direction. It went wide but was enough to scare the animal off. But recoil from the shot reverberated through his body, and he nearly blacked out from the pain. He bit his lower lip until he tasted blood and fought to remain conscious. If he passed out here in the snow, he was a dead man.

Pip raced over and whined at him. Ben looked up at the hound. “We’re in trouble, boy,” he gasped between stabs of pain. He couldn’t possibly walk home—he was at least fifteen miles from the house, and he could hardly breathe—but he sure as hell couldn’t stay here on the trail, either, unless he wanted to freeze to death. There were a few small caves less than a mile away. Those would give him the best chance of survival until the boys and Josie could come after him. Grabbing hold of Pip with his right hand, he hauled himself to his feet and bit his lip again as the pain once more threatened to make him pass out. Slowly, he began his long walk through the deep snow to the caves, leaning heavily on Josie’s giant wolfhound for support.

---

Back at the house, Adam, Josie, and Little Joe passed a pleasant morning. Little Joe coaxed Josie away from her book, and the two of them engaged in several fiercely competitive rounds of checkers. When Adam finished updating the ranch’s inventory, he pulled up a chair and gave so much unsolicited advice to them both that they yelled at him to go away. Hoss returned from town in midafternoon, and he and Adam set about trying to build a house using an entire deck of playing cards. Bored with checkers, Josie and Little Joe sauntered over to the table to annoy Adam.

“Careful now,” Little Joe said as Adam slowly set the last card on top of the delicate structure. “Don’t knock it over.”

“Yeah,” Josie added. “That would be terrible, undoing all Hoss’s hard work like that.”

Adam glared at them and resumed placing his card. Just as he let it go and carefully drew away his hand, Josie poked him right under his ribcage. He emitted a sharp “Eep!” and jumped. His knees hit the underside of the table, and the card house collapsed, scattering playing cards all over the table and onto the floor. Everyone stared open-mouthed for several moments before Adam and Hoss turned their heads slowly to Josie, who burst out laughing.

“We’re gonna get you for that!” Adam shouted.

He and Hoss leapt from their seats and chased Josie around the table and into the living room. She screamed in mock terror as her cousins cornered her behind Ben’s armchair. Adam dived behind the chair and snagged her around the waist.

“Quick, Hoss!” Adam hollered as he tightened his grip on his wriggling cousin. “Fill the bathtub!”

Cackling, Hoss thundered up the stairs and started pumping water into the tub as fast as he could.

Josie cackled as Adam flung her over his shoulder and carried her toward the stairs. “No!” she screamed.

“Oh, yes!” Adam said. He mounted the stairs awkwardly as Josie struggled to free herself from his grasp.

“I got the tub filled!” Hoss called as he stepped out of the washroom. He grabbed Josie’s wrists while Adam grabbed her ankles, and the two of them carried her into the washroom and dunked her, fully clothed, into the bathtub.

Josie hysterical laughter evolved into a shriek as she hit the water. “Hey!” she sputtered. “That’s cold!”

“I wasn’t gonna waste hot water on someone who wrecked my hard work,” Hoss said, and Adam erupted in laughter.

Josie stuck her tongue out at them and dragged herself out of the frigid tub. She stood dripping on the floor, her sable hair hanging in wet strings all around her face. Still giggling, Adam graciously handed her a towel.

“Thanks,” she said, snatching the towel from him and rubbing her hair. She tried to glare at Adam and Hoss, but she broke out in giggles too. “Guess I deserved that.”

“You sure did,” Adam agreed. “And so do you!” He spun around and grabbed Little Joe, who had snuck upstairs to watch the show. Hoss and Josie hopped out of the way as Adam tossed his little brother into the bathtub.

“What did I do?!” Little Joe shouted as he hauled himself out of the tub, his nostrils flaring. “I didn’t knock down your cards!”

“Oh, cool off, Joe,” Hoss said, and he pushed his younger brother back into the tub.

******

            Josie and Little Joe changed into dry clothes and returned to the living room, where they called a truce with Adam and Hoss.

“Should probably think about startin’ supper,” Hoss said, looking at the clock on the dining room wall and nudging Little Joe. Hop Sing had taken a few weeks’ vacation, so the Cartwrights had been taking turns cooking, and tonight was Joe’s turn.

“Try not to burn it this time, would you?” Adam said.

Little Joe glared at him and stalked off toward the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t Uncle Ben have been home by now?” Josie asked. It was only five p.m., but the day was fading fast, and snow had begun to fall again.

“I’m sure Pa’s all right,” Adam said. “He probably went out farther than he planned to and holed up in a line shack for the night.”

This sounded reasonable, so Josie put it out of her mind. But just as they cousins were finishing up supper, a horse galloped into the yard and whinnied. Adam rose from his chair, opened the door, and peered out to see who had arrived. It was now fully dark, and the snow was swirling heavily, but he immediately recognized the shape of his father’s buckskin gelding. His chest tightened.

“Who is it, Adam?” Hoss asked.

“It’s Buck. Just Buck, without Pa!” He raced outside with his brothers and Josie hot on his heels.

In the light streaming from the house, Adam examined the horse. The animal wasn’t injured, and Pa’s rifle and saddlebags were undisturbed.

“Do you think he got bushwhacked?” Josie asked. Images of Adam dragging a travois through the desert flashed through her mind, and she almost lost her supper.

“If he did, he got jumped by the world’s worst robber,” Adam said. “All he was carrying were his rifle and his lunch, and they’re both still here. Besides, a bushwhacker wouldn’t have let Buck come home to alert us. If they could even get past Pip in the first place.”

“Pip must still be with him,” Josie said.

“We better go after him,” Little Joe said and turned toward the barn. Adam grabbed his arm.

“We can’t go after him tonight,” he said gently.

“Why not?” Little Joe demanded, his chest heaving. “Pa’s lost in the snow somewhere! We have to find him!”

“I agree with you,” Adam said, “but we can’t go out there now. You know as well as I do that you can’t track a man in the dark. Besides, this snow is going to turn into a full-on blizzard within the next hour. Riding out now would be suicide, and we’re no good to Pa dead.”

“We can’t just leave him out there! He could die!”

“Joe,” Hoss intervened, “Adam’s right. Ain’t no good goin’ out in this storm. Pa’s a tough old bird. I’m sure he’s holed up somewhere safe for the night.” He took hold of Buck’s reins. “Now you three go on inside before you freeze. I’ll take care of Buck.” He led the horse through the swirling snow to the barn, leaving Adam, Josie, and Little Joe with nothing to do but go back inside the house.

Little Joe kicked the sideboard as he reentered the house. Adam and Josie shared a look but said nothing. Joe flung himself onto the settee and dropped his head into his hands. Wordlessly, Adam and Josie started to clean up the supper table. Adam’s stomach churned, but the others would take their cues from him, so best to act normally.

“Joe?” he said. “Could you help us wash the dishes, please?”

Little Joe’s head snapped up. “The dishes?” he said incredulously. “Our father’s out there freezing to death, and you’re worried about the damn dishes?”

Adam sighed. “Little Joe, I’m worried, too, but there’s nothing we can do about it right now, so we might as well make productive use of the time.”

“Productive use of the time,” Little Joe sneered. He leapt to his feet and marched over to Adam. “We could be making productive use of the time by looking for him!”

“Joe, we went through this already,” Josie said. “Look outside! It’s nearly whited out. You wouldn’t be able to see your hand in front of your face, let alone signs of Uncle Ben. You’d just get frostbite—or worse—for your trouble.”

“Sure,” Joe huffed as he stepped into Josie’s face, his nostrils flaring. “Take Adam’s side. You always do.”

“Hey, lay off her!” Adam said, stepping between Josie and Little Joe. “If you’re going to be intolerable, you can go up to your room.”

Joe barked out an unfriendly, mocking laugh. “You gonna send me to my room, Big Brother?”

Adam puffed out his chest, straightened to his full height, and looked down at Joe. Time to put the pup back in his place. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’d sure like to see you try,” Joe retorted, and he gave Adam a little push.

Adam pointed a warning finger at Little Joe. “Now watch yourself, Joe,” he said coolly.

Josie stepped back and watched the tension mount between Joe and Adam. “Come on, fellas,” she pleaded, but they ignored her. Joe pushed Adam again, and this time, Adam shoved back, sending Little Joe staggering backward. Joe’s green eyes flashed, and he launched himself at Adam. The two men crashed to floor, fists flying.

“Stop it!” Josie screamed.

Little Joe landed a hard left on Adam’s jaw, splitting his brother’s bottom lip. Adam responded with a right hook to Joe’s nose, which sent up a spurt of blood. Little Joe fell backward onto the floor, and Josie jumped in.

“I said stop it!” she screeched and wedged herself between them. Adam immediately backed off, but Little Joe was so angry he could hardly see. Not realizing Josie was between him and Adam, he flung his left fist forward again and cracked Josie hard in the right eye.

Josie cried out and fell backward into Adam. They tumbled to the floor, Josie landing in Adam’s lap, her hand clutching her eye. Little Joe stared in horror.

“Josie?” he squeaked.

“Josie!” Adam bellowed. He pulled her hand away from her face so he could see her eye, which was already swelling and turning an ugly shade of purple. His gaze snapped up to Little Joe, who was standing over them, blood dripping from his nose onto the floorboards. “Look what you did,” he snarled, his eyes burning with rage.

He jumped to his feet and was about to tackle Joe, but Josie was faster. She jumped up, too, and threw herself between them again, one arm stretched out in each direction to keep her cousins apart.

“It was an accident!” she shouted, gaze darting back and forth between them, making sure neither was about to charge. “It was an accident,” she repeated, more softly this time. “And it was my fault. Papa always told me never to jump between two fighting dogs.”

Joe’s chest kept heaving, his fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move. Adam hung his head, lip still bleeding.

“You shouldn’t have had to,” he said.

Little Joe hung his head too. His shoulders relaxed, and his fists uncurled.

Josie lowered her arms and turned to Adam. “Go clean up that hole in your lip.” Adam turned and went outside. That was strange, but right now, she didn’t care. Her eye was throbbing, nearly swollen shut, and she still had to check Joe’s nose. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at the blood on his face. “It’s not broken, but I’ll be surprised if you don’t wake up with at least one black eye.”

Hoss came in just then and looked at Josie and Joe. “Why is Adam outside bleeding?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Josie said. Joe sniggered, and Josie glared at him. “So is this one.” She glanced over her shoulder at Hoss. “Could you please check Adam’s lip and let me know if he needs stitches?”

Hoss turned around and headed back outside.

“Josie, I’m so, so sorry,” Little Joe said as his bleeding finally slowed. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to,” she said, cocking her head in Adam’s direction as he reentered the house. “This is killing him, too,” she added quietly. “He just doesn’t show it like you do.”

Adam came over and tapped her shoulder. When she turned around, he pressed a snowball gently to her injured eye. She sat down the settee and held the snow to her eye until it melted and her face was numb from the cold.

Little Joe watched as Adam handed Josie the snow, and a wave of guilt swept over him, not only for hurting Josie, but also for antogonizing Adam. His oldest brother had never done anything but look out for him, and he shouldn’t have taken his anger and fear over their father’s situation out on him. He needed to apologize, but maybe later. Instead, he let Hoss apply some snow to his face to try to control the swelling.

The four cousins sat silently in the living room, everyone but Hoss nursing their wounds, and no one sure what to say. Finally, Adam rose to wash the dishes that had started the fight in the first place. Josie and Hoss followed to help, but Little Joe stayed in the living room, his head throbbing. When they finished the dishes and went back into the living room, Adam announced he was going to bed.

“We leave at first light,” he said and gazed around the room, his eyes coming to rest on Little Joe. “So, you all better get to bed too.”

Everyone nodded and went upstairs, Little Joe making sure Hoss and Josie were between him and Adam. Hoss and Little Joe ducked into their bedrooms toward the front of the hall, but Adam escorted Josie to her door at the end. He turned up the hallway lamp and peered at her eye, which fortunately, hadn’t swollen all the way shut.

“That doesn’t look too bad. You’re gonna have a pretty good shiner for a few days, though.”

Josie stared at him. She didn’t say anything, but Adam could read her face. She was furious. He ducked his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let him provoke me.”

“You should be apologizing to Joe. He needs your patience right now.”

Adam sighed. “I will tomorrow. It’s probably better if we spend a few hours apart.” He reached his arms out and looked at her hopefully. Josie gave him a half-smile, fell against his chest, and let him wrap his arms around her.

“You really think Uncle Ben’s all right out there?” she asked softly as she bit back tears.

No, he didn’t. But he sure as hell couldn’t tell Josie that. At least not tonight.

“Hoss is right. Pa’s a tough old bird. If anyone can make it out there, it’s him. Besides, he’s got Pip with him, remember?”

Josie nodded, kissed his cheek, and went to bed, leaving Adam standing alone in the hallway. Averting his gaze from his father’s empty bedroom, he turned toward his own room to get ready for bed.

---

Adam slept badly for only a couple hours before the wind howling outside his bedroom window woke him. He peered out, but the glass was coated in frost and snow. He wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, so he pulled on his dressing gown and slippers and went downstairs, where he threw a couple logs onto the embers in the fireplace and went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

On his way back to the living room, he opened the front door and was blown back by a blast of icy wind and snow. As he and Josie had predicted, the snow had evolved into a raging blizzard. He’d made the right decision in not setting out to search for Pa that night. But the thought of his father out there in that storm set his stomach churning again. He hoped he’d encouraged the others by telling them that Pa had probably decided to stay the night in a line shack, but he knew it wasn’t true. Pa never would have stayed out in this weather knowing his family was waiting for him to come home, and he certainly wouldn’t have let Buck run off without him if he wasn’t hurt.

Adam closed the door, collapsed into his father’s armchair, and set his cup on the coffee table. He dropped his head into his hands as images of his father finding him in the desert last summer flashed through his mind. The guilt was almost unbearable. Pa had searched through broiling heat for a week and a half to find him, and here he was, cowering next to the fire while his father was lost in a blizzard.

“I’m so sorry, Pa,” he whispered as he rocked in his seat and clutched his hair. “You always told me first and foremost to take care of my brothers. I’m just trying to keep them safe.”

A creak from the top of the stairs broke his reverie, and Adam snapped his head up, hoping his eyes weren’t as red as he thought they must be. Little Joe stood at the top of the stairs, his face puffy and swollen. Standing there in his dressing gown and slippers, he looked much younger than his twenty years, and for a moment, all Adam saw was his brother as a little boy of five, begging him not to leave for college.

“Oh, sorry,” Joe said. “I didn’t know anyone else was up.” He turned to go back to his room.

“It’s okay. Come on down.” Their gazes met, and both brothers could see the regret in the other’s eyes. Joe slowly descended the stairs and sat on the settee. Adam went into the kitchen and poured his brother a cup of coffee, which he set on the coffee table in front of Joe.

“Thanks,” Joe said, taking a sip.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes until they both broke out babbling at once.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You go ahead.”

“No, you.”

“No, really.”

Amused smiles began to rise on both of their faces, and Adam held up a hand to silence Little Joe.

“I’m sorry I fought back,” Adam said. “I should have just walked away.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Joe said. “The whole thing was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have pushed you in the first place. I just got so… so…” he trailed off in frustration, not sure how to express what he was feeling.

“It’s okay. I’m scared, too.”

Little Joe looked up, his eyes wide. “You? Scared? I didn’t think anything scared you.”

“Just something happening to someone I love.”

“Unless it’s at your own hand, huh?” Little Joe gave Adam a wry smile.

Adam smiled back and reached over and tousled Joe’s curls. He had always loved his baby brother’s curly hair. It suited Joe’s personality somehow, and he was glad it hadn’t straightened as Joe grew up.

“Well, what d’ya say, Older Brother?” Joe said. “Shall we use this time productively?” He went to the gun rack and pulled down four rifles and some cleaning supplies. He handed Adam two of the rifles, and they set about cleaning the guns for the next morning’s expedition.

---

When Josie and Hoss stumbled downstairs the next morning just before dawn, they found Adam and Little Joe asleep in the living room. Little Joe was stretched out on the settee, and Adam was slumped in Ben’s burgundy armchair. Each of them had a rifle resting in his lap and another on the floor nearby.

Hoss looked at Josie in alarm. “I didn’t hear no shootin’ last night, did you?”

“No,” she said, not taking her gaze off of Adam and Joe, “but a body would have been hard-pressed to hear anything at all over that wind.” She walked to the settee and looked at Joe. His face wasn’t quite as bruised up as she’d feared it would be, but his left eye was black. She looked at Adam and saw that his lower lip was purple and swollen. She shook her head and nudged Little Joe awake while Hoss poked Adam, who jumped.

“Saddle up, Older Brother,” Hoss said. “Let’s go find Pa.”

The cousins choked down some cold biscuits from last night and loaded their saddlebags with enough food for several days. They brought two bedrolls apiece to protect against the cold, bundled up in coats, chaps, hats, gloves, and scarves, and set off through the deep snow.

They headed directly to Ben’s trap lines in the high country. The morning was clear and sunny, but it took three hours to ride into the mountains through the snow that had fallen overnight. The blizzard had blown away any tracks Ben might have left yesterday, and it took them several passes just to find the first of his traps buried in the snow.

“Okay,” Adam said, thinking aloud when Hoss finally spotted the first of the traps. “If I were Pa and got into trouble around here, where would I go?”

“There’s some little caves just about a mile up this trail,” Hoss said. “Some more over that way.” He pointed south.

“That’s where we’ll look, then,” Adam said. “Hoss, Joe, check those caves to the south. Josie and I’ll follow this trail. Three shots if you find any signs of a man or a dog. Remember, we’re looking for Pip too. He’ll hear us before Pa will. We meet back here in three hours if no one finds anything. Agreed?” Everyone nodded, and the cousins split up.

Adam and Josie called for Ben and Pip as their horses picked their way up the trail. Josie was shivering. Adam frowned. The temperature was below freezing. None of them could tolerate it for long before they’d have to find shelter.

About a half mile along, they came around a bend, and Josie hollered for Pip again. This time she was rewarded with an answering bark. She would have recognized that deep, resounding voice anywhere. She shot Adam an excited glance.

“Pip!” she cried again.

The wolfhound bounded through the snow toward them, barking excitedly, his wagging tail knocking the snow off the bushes around him. Josie slid off Scout and threw her arms wide in greeting. Pip leapt into her open arms, knocking her backward into the snow. He stood over her, tail still wagging furiously, and licked her face. She squealed with laughter.

“Cut it out, Pip!” she said, still laughing. “Your drool is going to freeze to my face!” She shoved the massive canine off her and sat up as Adam drew his Remington and fired three shots into the air. “Come on, Pip!” Josie urged the dog as she remounted her Appaloosa. “Go find Ben!” The dog barked once more and bounded off the way he had come, with Adam and Josie following closely behind.

After less than a quarter mile, Pip veered off the trail into the trees. As they rode through the forest, Adam pointed out bent twigs and a broken branch.

“Someone came through here,” he said. His heart lifted. If Pa had made it this far, then maybe…

A few minutes later, they reached a sheer rock wall. Josie thumped her saddle in frustration, thinking Pip had brought them to a dead end, but Adam recognized the area. He jumped off Sport and was stumbled through the waist-deep snow.

“PA!” he hollered. “Pa, are you in there?”

Josie saw that he was following Pip into a small opening in the rock face she hadn’t spotted. She jumped down from Scout, grabbed her medical bag off her saddle, and followed Adam and Pip. She was nearly to the cave entrance when Adam turned around, his eyes, the only bit of his face she could see between his scarf and his hat, were wide.

“Josie, he’s in here!” He grabbed Josie’s hand and pulled her the rest of the way through the snow and into the cave.

The cave was shallow, no more than about twenty feet deep, and lying on the floor near the back was Ben Cartwright. Josie’s heart shattered. They were too late. Uncle Ben was curled up in a ball on his right side, and the little bit of his face she could see was a pale blue. She approached slowly, about to confirm the worst, when he blinked twice and looked up at her.

“Elizabeth?” he whispered as a look of awe crossed his wan face.

Josie nearly burst into tears. “Oh my God, you’re alive!” Behind her, Adam let loose another three shots into the air just outside the cave. Josie dropped to her knees, pushed on Ben’s left shoulder, and rolled him onto his back. He gasped as she put pressure on his injured shoulder, and then he nearly bent double as the sharp intake of breath upset his broken ribs, bringing on the now-familiar stabbing pain through his chest. He screwed his eyes shut against the agony. Adam had made his way back into the cave by then, and he dropped to his knees next to Josie.

“Pa?” he asked tentatively. Ben’s eyes fluttered at the sound of his eldest son’s voice.

“Adam,” Ben breathed, groping around with his good right hand until he found Adam’s.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Adam asked, his voice thick with anxiety.

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “It’s a miracle he’s still alive.” Uncle Ben was in a bad way. He was in the advanced stages of hypothermia, and a quick examination revealed his left shoulder was dislocated and he had broken three ribs on his left side. She spotted his discarded chaps a few feet away and thanked God he had been wearing them to keep his pants dry. He never would have survived the night in wet clothes.

“What can I do?” Adam said.

“Build a fire. As hot as you can. We have to get him warm.”

She ran out to Scout, grabbed both her bedrolls off her saddle, and took them back into the cave. She unfurled the thick, woolen blankets and laid them over her uncle. Adam took off in search of firewood. If she was going to pop Uncle Ben’s shoulder into place, now was the time. She’d seen onlookers pass out watching this procedure.

“Uncle Ben,” she said gently. His eyes fluttered open again. “I have to set your shoulder. I’m really sorry, but this is going to hurt like hell.” Ben nodded feebly and closed his eyes again. Josie sat on the cave floor facing him and putting her foot in his left armpit for leverage, she grabbed his left forearm and yanked. He screamed and sat bolt upright as his shoulder slipped back into place with a faint pop. The quick movement sent the stab of pain through his chest again, and he alternated clutching his side and his left shoulder with his right hand. His gasping slowed as the pain he’d endured in his shoulder for the past twenty-four hours finally receded. He lay back down heavily.

Adam returned with a small bundle of firewood as Josie pulled off Ben’s gloves and boots to check his hands and feet for frostbite. Miraculously, his fingers and toes were all right, though the tips of his ears were bright red. His pulse was also much too weak. They were running out of time.

“How is he?” Adam asked as he dumped the wood near the mouth of the cave.

“Bad. Hurry up with that fire.”

Adam stacked the wood just inside the cave entrance so they would still have protection from the bitter wind but the fire wouldn’t smoke them out. He pulled a box of lucifers out of his pocket and got the kindling to catch in short order.

While Adam fussed with the fire, Josie took off her gloves and placed her hands on her uncle’s icy cheeks to warm him up a little.

“It’s too cold, Elizabeth, you shouldn’t be out here,” Ben muttered.

Adam’s head snapped around. “Did he just call you Elizabeth?”

“Yeah,” Josie said grimly. “That’s the second time.”

“You do look just like her.”

“I know, but the confusion is a bad sign. How’s that fire coming?”

“Ready!” Adam dashed to the back of the cave and half-carried-half-dragged his father close to the fire. Ben smiled weakly as the warmth hit him, and Adam moved in close to the flames too. Josie was about to instruct Adam to lay next to his father to help warm him up, but Pip trotted over, lay down at Ben’s side farthest from the fire and snuggled up close.

“I think we just discovered how Pa survived the night,” Adam said in amazement.

“Good boy, Pip!” Josie said. She grabbed the two wool blankets and laid them over both Ben and Pip and tucked them in tightly.

When Hoss and Little Joe arrived a few minutes later, Joe let out a strangled sob and dropped to his knees next to his father.

“Pa!” he cried, tears spilling from his green eyes onto his father’s blankets. Ben’s eyes remained closed, and Joe reached out to shake his father’s shoulders, but Adam grabbed him.

“He’s hurt, Joe,” Adam said. “Dislocated his shoulder and broke a few ribs. He won’t thank you for shaking him.”

“Will he be ok?” Joe whimpered.

“It’s hard to say,” Josie said. “Hypothermia is tricky. Hoss, did you bring any coffee?”

Hoss nodded and started brewing a pot. When it was ready, Hoss propped Ben up, and Josie carefully poured some of the hot liquid into his mouth. She managed to get about half the cup into him before he began shivering too violently to swallow any more.

“Josie?” Little Joe asked, his voice trembling almost as hard as Ben’s body.

“Believe it or not, this is a good sign,” Josie said. “It means he’s warming up.”

Hoss carefully laid his father back down, and Pip snuggled back up to him. Within a few minutes, Ben’s shivering slowed a bit, and he pulled one gloved hand out from under the blankets and scratched Pip’s head.

“Good dog,” he whispered. “Good boy.”

Josie looked hopefully up at Adam and then back down at her patient. “Uncle Ben?” she said.

Ben’s eyes blinked open slowly, and he gazed up at her.

“Elizab- Josie!”

“There you are.” She smiled down at him.

“What happened to your eye?”

All four cousins laughed. In her concern over Uncle Ben, she’d completely forgotten about her own injury.

“It’s nothing. Joe and I just had a little collision. It was my fault, really.”

Ben turned his head and squinted his eyes at his youngest son, taking in Joe’s bruised and swollen face. “That must have been some collision,” he wheezed, clutching his injured ribs.

“Try not to move,” Josie said. “You’ve got three broken ribs, and I just put your shoulder back into place about an hour ago.” Ben nodded and closed his eyes again.

“Wanna go home,” he said.

“We’ll go soon. Finish off this coffee Hoss made, and then we’ll go home.”

Hoss and Little Joe helped Ben finish his coffee while Adam pulled Josie aside.

“It’s a long ride home. Is it a good idea to make him do it already?”

“Not especially, but it’s better than making him spend another night out here. Can Sport carry you both through this snow? Uncle Ben can’t sit his own horse, and he needs someone to keep him warm.”

Adam thought for a moment. “Two riders the size of Pa and me might be a bit much for Sport, but Chubb could do it. Hoss can ride Sport home, and Pa and I’ll ride double on Chubb.”

Their plan set, Adam and Josie returned to the cave to prepare Ben for the long ride home. Hoss and Little Joe pulled off his coat, shirt, and thermal top so Josie could bind up his ribs. Ben grimaced and lost what little color he’d regained as Josie cinched the bandages around his chest.

“I’m sorry it has to be so tight,” she said. “I know it’s painful.” She wished she could give him some morphine, but it would make him too groggy for the ride. Instead, she used her scarf to fashion a sling for his left arm to keep his shoulder still. “Keep him as steady as you can on the way home,” she told Adam. “And keep him awake.”

Adam nodded. “Let’s go. We can’t wait any longer if we want to make it home before dark.”

Hoss carried Ben out of the cave to where Chubb stood waiting. Adam swung up behind the saddle and reached down for Ben as Hoss lifted him up and settled him in the saddle. Josie handed Adam a couple of blankets, which he wrapped around his father’s shoulders. Then he reached his arms around Ben and picked up Chubb’s reins. Hoss, Little Joe, and Josie mounted up as well, and they set off slowly for home.

Adam had to work hard to keep Ben awake on the ride home. Ben leaned back against his son’s chest and tried to nod off. He was feeling cold again—the sensation had faded overnight—and if he could just sleep until they got home, the journey would be so much more tolerable.

“Stay awake, Pa,” Adam ordered as his father’s head lolled against his chest for at least the twelfth time.

“So tired,” Ben muttered.

“I know the feeling,” Adam said, thinking back to his Christmas in Boston. “Hey, Pa,” he said brightly, “how about you and I stay home from now on when the weather’s bad? We don’t seem to have much luck outdoors apart from pleasant spring days.”

Ben let out half of a weak chuckle and winced as the motion disturbed his ribs. “Good idea, son,” he gasped. “I’m sure Hoss and Joe won’t mind doing all the work from now on.”

“What’s that?” Hoss asked, sidling up to Adam and Ben.

“Oh, nothing,” Adam said.

Josie rode closely alongside Chubb so she could keep an eye on Ben. She, too, was worried about how often Adam had to rouse him, but there was little she could do. When they finally reached the house four hours later, Ben was barely conscious, and his pulse was weak again. Hoss pulled him down from Chubb and rushed him inside.

“Put him on the floor next to the fireplace,” Josie said. “It’s the warmest spot in the house. Joe, go heat some water for tea. Adam, take care of the horses.” The brothers ran off like obedient soldiers. Josie laid several blankets down on the rug in front of the fireplace, and Hoss laid Ben gently on top of them before throwing several logs onto the fire. “Pip!” Josie called, and the dog ambled over and lay down next to Ben on his side facing away from the fire. “Get his coat and shirt off him,” Josie ordered Hoss as she darted upstairs. She grabbed all the blankets off her uncle’s bed and dragged them downstairs, where she tucked them tightly around Ben and Pip. She pulled off his hat and checked his ears again. They were still red, but fortunately didn’t seem any worse than they had been in the cave.

Little Joe emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later bearing a kettle of boiling water. Josie dug a small sachet of powdered willow bark from her medical bag and plunked it in the water to steep. When it was ready, Hoss propped Ben up while Josie raised a cup of tea to his lips. He took two sips and turned his head away.

“Ugh! Tastes terrible!”

“Seems to be a common sentiment in this family,” Josie said. “Come on, Uncle Ben, drink it. It’ll warm you up and help with the pain.”

Ben drank the rest while wearing the same wrinkled-nose grimace Adam always made when confronted by willow bark tea. It revived him a bit, so Josie sent Hoss into the kitchen to heat some broth and make sandwiches for everyone. By the time Adam came in from bedding down the horses, there was a tower of sandwiches on a plate on the coffee table next to a large pot of coffee. Ravenous, Adam grabbed a sandwich and crammed half of it in his mouth at once.

“How’s Pa?” he mumbled around the cold roast beef.

Ben glanced up from the floor where Josie was spooning broth into his mouth as Hoss propped him up.

“Cold,” he wheezed. “But still alive.”

Adam sat next to Hoss, Josie, and Ben. The warmth from the fire at his back felt heavenly, and he suddenly realized how very tired he was. He could fall over onto the stone hearth and fall asleep right there.

“Where’s Joe?” he asked, noticing his little brother was not in the room.

“I sent him upstairs to take a hot bath,” Josie said. “He’s sore.”

“What in the world happened to that boy?” Ben asked, remembering the state of his youngest son’s face.

Adam sighed. “He and I got into it last night. That’s how Josie got hurt. She got between us. Joe didn’t see her, and…” He sighed again.

“What were you fighting about?” Ben asked.

Adam sighed a third time. “He was upset I wouldn’t let him go out looking for you last night. It was already dark and snowing hard when Buck came home, and I was worried we’d all get lost.”

Ben reached out his good hand and squeezed Adam’s arm. “You did exactly the right thing, son. I’m proud of you.” Adam relaxed under his grip. “Now, Josephine,” he said, turning to his niece, “may I please sleep?”

Josie smiled and nodded. “I’ll get you a pillow from your room.” Ben was asleep before she returned with the pillow, which she slipped under his head. “So far, so good,” she said to Adam, Hoss, and Joe, who had just returned downstairs from his bath. “He’ll probably be feverish for a day or so, but it’s encouraging that he can hold a conversation. So long as he doesn’t develop pneumonia, I think he’ll be all right.”

The brothers nodded, and Adam moved to the settee, where he pulled off his boots. “You three go to bed. I’ll sit up with Pa in case he needs anything.”

“I’ll sit with you,” Josie said. “Just in case.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Little Joe said.

All eyes turned to Hoss.

“Well, I ain’t goin’ upstairs alone!” he said. “That hallway’s downright spooky after dark.”

They laughed, and Josie collapsed onto the settee next to Adam. She pulled off her boots and lay down, resting her head in Adam’s lap. Hoss grabbed one of the many blankets that had materialized all over the living room and covered Josie up.

“Thanks,” she said, already drowsy.

Hoss slouched in Ben’s armchair, and Little Joe took the blue armchair, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“Joseph, get your feet off the table,” Ben muttered from his pallet on the floor.

Joe looked at his siblings in disbelief, but then sighed and lay on the floor between Pip and the coffee table instead. The entire family was asleep within minutes.

---

Sometime in the night, Adam fell forward onto the floor, where he woke the next morning to find Josie’s hand dangling off the settee and resting on his face. He batted it aside and sat up, smacking his forehead on the edge of the coffee table in the process. His yelp of pain woke Josie, who peered down at him.

“What are you doing down there, silly?” she asked, her eyes dancing with amusement.

“I don’t know,” Adam said, rubbing his forehead. “I have no memory of landing here.”

Josie giggled and got up to check on Ben. As she’d expected, he was running a fever, but his pulse and breathing were both strong and steady. She looked at Adam.

“While I’m grateful the Cartwrights appear to have a tolerance for extreme weather, I do wish you all would stop testing it out.”

Adam grinned sheepishly. “I’ll make breakfast.”

The smell of bacon and eggs cooking woke everyone else. By the time Adam put the food on the table, Ben was sitting up unassisted in impatient anticipation of a hot meal. Rather than making Ben get up to sit at the table, Adam and Hoss delivered loaded plates of food to the living room, where the family had an impromptu picnic on the floor. Adam had even fried up some extra bacon just for Pip, who downed it so quickly Josie was certain he hadn’t bothered to chew. She was pleased, however, when Ben sent Little Joe to refill his plate for him.

After breakfast, Ben related the story of how he had ended up injured in the cave.

“Bit strange for a cougar to be out in this weather, ain’t it?” Little Joe asked.

“Must have been hungry,” Hoss said.

“In any event, he didn’t get lunch that day,” Ben said. “Now if the good doctor has no objections, I’d like to go to bed.”

Adam and Hoss helped Ben upstairs to his bedroom and into bed. Josie and Little Joe followed them with all the blankets Josie had dragged to the living room the night before. As Ben lowered himself stiffly into bed, he caught a glimpse out his window of the sun glinting off the thick coat of fresh snow blanketing the ground outside.

“It’s pretty when you’re not stranded in it,” he grumbled as Little Joe stoked the fire in the bedroom’s small fireplace.

“It sure is,” Josie mused. Her face lit up as an idea struck her. “Hey, Adam! You wanna build a snowman with me?”

The four Cartwright men stared at her incredulously.

“We spend all day yesterday riding around miserable in that snow, and she wants to go play in it,” Little Joe muttered, shaking his head.

“No thanks, Josie,” Adam said. “I think I’ll stay in here with Pa and drink coffee. Lots and lots of hot coffee.”

Josie turned a disappointed face to Hoss.

“Aw, Josie,” he said. “You know I love buildin’ snowmen, but it’s awfully cold out there, and—” He cut off as Josie poked out her lower lip to look a little bit sadder. “Oh, all right. Get your coat on. Let’s go build us a snowman!”

Josie cheered and took off downstairs. Hoss followed a moment later, leaving Adam and Little Joe sitting with Ben in his bedroom.

The snow was wet and heavy—perfect for snowman construction—and Hoss and Josie quickly rolled a base level for their snowman that rose to Hoss’s waist. Several minutes later, Josie had to sit on Hoss’s shoulders to lift the head onto the snowman because it was too high for him to reach alone. Their laughter carried upwards into Ben’s bedroom, where Adam and Little Joe watched through the window.

“They’re having entirely too much fun out there,” Little Joe said.

Adam nodded. “We should do something about that.” The brothers shot each other wicked grins. “We’ll be back, Pa!” Adam shouted as he and Little Joe darted from their father’s bedroom and down the hall to the stairs. Pip dithered for a moment, looking back and forth between Ben and the now-empty doorway.

“Go on, boy,” Ben said. “I’m okay.”

Pip yipped happily and followed Adam and Joe down the stairs.

Outside, Josie and Hoss were putting the finishing touches on the largest snowman the Nevada Territory had ever seen; it was more than nine feet tall and wider than Hoss. Josie had brought a carrot from the kitchen, which she stuck to the snowman’s face for a nose, and Hoss poked some branches in the sides for arms. A few rocks they had dug out from under the snow served well as eyes, and they used pebbles to create a smiling mouth. For a finishing touch, Josie swiped Hoss’s tall hat from his head and jumped up and plunked it on the snowman’s head.

“I’d say that’s a pretty good snowman,” Josie said as she admired their work.

“Me, too!” Hoss agreed. “Let’s make him a wife.”

They were just beginning to roll a snowwoman foundation when a wild rebel yell erupted on the porch. Josie and Hoss whirled around to see Little Joe and Adam on the porch, their arms full of snowballs.

“We’re under attack, Hoss!” Josie yelled. “Get down!”

Josie and Hoss hit the snow as Adam and Little Joe pelted them with snowballs. Hoss and Josie crawled behind their snowman and started rolling snowballs as quickly as they could. Pip bounded through the snow to them, barking encouragingly. When they had a small pile, Hoss and Josie peeked out from opposite sides of the snowman and hurled snowballs toward the porch. Hoss knocked Adam’s hat off, and Josie caught Little Joe squarely in the rear end when he turned around to grab another snowball. Little Joe responded with a snowball that knocked the nose off the snowman.

“We got a wounded man, Doc!” Hoss shouted.

Josie gallantly threw herself into the line of fire to grab the carrot and jam it back onto the snowman’s face. Adam and Little Joe took advantage of the opportunity to bombard her with snowballs. She shrieked for help, and Hoss grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back behind the snowman.

The battle raged for a quarter of an hour, both sides keeping up a steady barrage of flying snow, and Pip running back and forth between the two, barking madly. Finally, frustrated by their lack of headway, Little Joe covered Adam while he raced in and stole Josie away from Hoss, slinging her over his shoulder and running back toward the porch.

“We’ve got your partner!” Adam called in his best outlaw voice. “Surrender, or she gets it!” He and Little Joe both aimed snowballs point-blank at Josie, whose scream of terror ended in uncontrollable giggles.

“All right!” Hoss hollered back. “All right, I give up! Just don’t hurt the little lady!” He stepped out from behind the snowman with his hands up, and Adam and Little Joe turned their snowballs on him, both nailing him right in the face. Hoss charged the porch, grabbed Little Joe, and chunked him headfirst into the snow. He turned for Adam, who threw his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he gasped between gales of laughter. “I give up!”

Hoss laughed and threw one arm around Adam and one around Josie.

“Come on, you two,” Josie said. “Let’s go inside and get warm. I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

Hoss tromped back to Little Joe, who was still struggling to free himself from the snow, grabbed the younger man’s feet, and pulled him free. He reclaimed his hat from the snowman and followed his brothers and cousin inside.

Upstairs, Ben heard to the joyful shouts of his sons and niece and couldn’t resist heaving himself out of bed to watch from his window. He tried not to laugh as Adam and Little Joe beaned Hoss with their snowballs—the motion sent stabs of pain through his chest again. But smiling didn’t hurt, so Ben smiled broadly. Despite their fight two nights before, Adam and Little Joe were comrades again, and Ben’s spirits lifted as he watched them work together to defeat Hoss and Josie. “As long as they have each other, they’ll always be okay,” he thought. Hearing the younger Cartwrights coming back into the house, he hustled as quickly as he could back to bed. He didn’t want to get in trouble for getting up.

When Josie came upstairs a few minutes later to change into dry clothes, her cheeks and nose rosy from the cold, she poked her head into Ben’s room to check on him and found him resting comfortably, right where she had left him. She laid a hand on his forehead and was pleased that his fever hadn’t risen.

“How’s the pain?” she asked. “Would you like an opium pill?”

“It’s not too bad, as long as I hold still. And those pills make me fuzzy.”

Josie smiled. “Would you like some hot chocolate?”

“That would be lovely.”

Josie kissed Ben’s forehead and skipped happily out of the room to change her clothes.

Ben smiled again as he watched her go. His shoulder and chest ached horribly, and no matter how many logs the boys threw onto the fire, he was still cold despite his fever, but his family was together and happy. Nothing else mattered.

---

Josie made Ben stay in bed for the next three days until his fever broke and he could move at least a little without pain. By the beginning of February, he was getting around almost normally. The snow had also stopped, and while it hadn’t yet melted, the roads were passable. Adam took advantage of a free, sunny afternoon in the middle of the month to ride to the Lucky Star Ranch to see if he could enlist Simon’s help in building Josie’s clinic. He hoped the weather would let them start building in about a month, so he wanted to start gathering his labor force. Ross had already agreed to help, of course, but the more men they had, the faster the work would go, and Simon was quickly becoming known in the area as a skilled carpenter.

“Hi, Adam!” Simon’s younger sister, Rebecca, called as he dismounted and wrapped Sport’s reins around the hitching post. “What brings you out this way?”

“I was hoping to talk to your brother.” He stepped onto the porch and doffed his hat. “He around?”

“He’s upstairs. Come on inside, and I’ll fetch him for you.”

Rebecca led him into the Crofts’ living room. It was more modest than the Ponderosa’s, but cozy and comfortable with a blue sofa and two squashy armchairs. It all looked inviting, but Adam stood close to the fire to warm up after his long, cold ride. Rebecca brought him a cup of coffee and ran upstairs to get Simon.

She knocked on her brother’s closed bedroom door. Footsteps approached from the other side, and Simon flung open the door. Rebecca could tell by the grumpy expression on his face and the way his dark blond hair was rumpled that he’d been dozing. He’d spent the past two days checking on their winter herds and was enjoying a well-deserved afternoon off.

“What?” he demanded, hoping he could lay back down before his drowsiness wore off.

Rebecca ignored her brother’s grouchiness. “You have a visitor.”

Simon’s face lit up. Due to the weather, he’d seen Josie only once since the Christmas party, and his heart leapt at the idea that she’d ridden out to see him.

“Tell her I’ll be right down!” he said and scurried to his mirror to tamp down his hair.

“I’ll tell him,” Rebecca replied with a smirk.

“Him?”

“Yes, him.”

“It ain’t Josie?” Simon couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“Right family, wrong member.” Rebecca paused. “It’s Adam.”

Simon had been about to pat down his cowlick, and now his hand froze in midair. “Adam?” he echoed weakly. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty darn. He’s too big to be Little Joe, too small to be Hoss, and too young to be Mr. Cartwright. That leaves Adam.”

Simon went pale and sank onto his bed. “Is he wearing his gun?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Of course he’s wearing his gun. He just rode in from the Ponderosa. You’re being awfully rude, you know, keeping him waiting.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Simon replied absently, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll be right down.”

Rebecca tossed her long, honey-colored hair and flounced out of the room. Simon stayed on his bed, agonizing over why Adam Cartwright had ridden all the way out to the Lucky Star to talk to him. He was certain Adam hadn’t seen him kiss Josie at the Christmas party. Had Hoss told? No, Hoss wouldn’t tattle. Adam must be there for another reason, and it was high time he quit being so afraid of Josie’s cousin. Simon was no coward—he’d assisted Hoss and Little Joe in more than one barroom brawl—and he resolved to go downstairs and face Adam like a man. Perhaps he’d even broach a little topic he’d meaning to discuss with Adam and Mr. Cartwright. He rose, set his shoulders, and strode downstairs, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.

“Hi, Adam!”

Adam noticed Simon’s overenthusiastic greeting and smirked at the younger man’s obvious discomfort, but he extended his hand cordially. “Hey, Simon. Good to see you. Making it through this winter all right?”

“Oh, all right,” Simon said, shaking Adam’s hand. “You?”

“Nothing we haven’t been able to handle.”

Simon refilled Adam’s coffee cup and poured one for himself before they settled into the armchairs. The two men sat for several moments, sipping their coffee and sizing one another up. Finally, Simon broke the silence. “So, what brings you out here?”

“How would you like to make a little money?” Adam said.

Simon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Of all the questions he had expected to come out of Adam Cartwright’s mouth, this was certainly not one.

“Money?” he asked stupidly.

Adam chuckled. “I’m building Josie a small clinic on the Ponderosa, and I thought perhaps you’d like to help. I hope to start next month. I know it’s a busy time of year for ranchers, but I’ll pay you well for your time.”

Simon let out a relieved burst of laughter. “I’m sorry,” he said in answer to Adam’s mildly offended expression. “I just never expected you to offer me work. I thought you hated me.”

“Who says I don’t?” Adam replied, completely straight-faced. “I don’t have to like you to admit you’re a good carpenter.” He let out a small chuckle as he watched the color drain from Simon’s face. Time to be direct and put the poor boy out of his misery. “Look, Simon, I don’t like the idea of you courting Josie any more than you like the idea of Little Joe courting Rebecca, but I don’t think I get a whole lot of say in the matter. Josie seems to have warmed up to you, and she tends to get her way.”

Now Simon chuckled. “She does,” he agreed with a smile.

“So, if she’s agreeable, you go right on ahead and court her.”

Simon grinned in relief. “Thanks, Adam. Truly, thank you. I know you and Josie are close, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you and Mr. Cartwright about courtin’ her. She’s one heckuva girl.”

“Yes, she is. Which is why I do want to make one thing incontrovertibly clear.”

Simon swallowed hard. He’d never heard the word “incontrovertibly” before, but he caught Adam’s meaning all the same.

“If you hurt her,” Adam continued coolly, “and I mean even slightly, or if you get her into any trouble”—here he raised a knowing eyebrow— “or if she ever comes home with anything less than a smile on her face, I will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth. And when I catch you—and rest assured, I will catch you—I will kill you. Very, very slowly. You understand?”

Simon’s eyes went as wide as wagon wheels. “Yes,” he squeaked, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I do understand, and I know how you feel. Little Joe and I have been friends for years, and I still want to strangle him every time I see him put his hands on Rebecca.”

“Well, in Little Joe’s case, that probably wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Adam said. He cut Simon a wry smile, and Simon laughed. “Now,” Adam said, “about this clinic.” He pulled a small sketch out of his pocket and unfolded it on the coffee table, and the two men began to plan.

---

Winter broke early, much to the relief of everyone in the region. It had been a hard winter, and no one was sorry to see the snow melt. Adam was especially pleased because it meant he could start building Josie’s clinic two weeks earlier than he’d planned. Simon, Ross, and a few men from the mining camps joined him early one morning in the second week of March to clear the ground for the little building. Josie ambled out to watch them begin, and Adam handed her a shovel and let her break the first ground.

“Thanks, Adam,” she said, beaming, as she passed the shovel back to him, “but I’ll let you boys take it the rest of the way from here.”

The men laughed, and Josie headed into the barn to saddle up Scout. Ben wanted to check his traps again, and Josie opted to go with him this time. After ten days of riding through the desert searching for Adam last summer, she had a different notion of what constituted a “long ride.” Two hours to the alpine country no longer seemed like a big deal. She insisted she was going just to keep Ben company, but they both knew better.

Uncle and niece enjoyed their ride together into the wooded mountains with Pip prancing happily along—sometimes behind them, sometimes off to the side, sometimes way out in front. Ben told Josie stories of his days as a first mate to her and Adam’s grandfather, Abel Stoddard, aboard the merchant vessel Wanderer, and Josie was fascinated by his descriptions of such exotic locales as Singapore and Hong Kong.

“I want to see the whole world,” she sighed wistfully as she turned her face up to catch the sun.

Ben smiled and admired the way the sun shone against her black hair that ran in a long braid down her back. She’d been on the Ponderosa for more than a year and a half now, and he regarded her as more of a daughter than a niece. The boys had long ago begun introducing Josie as their sister, and one glance at the resemblance between Josie and Adam was all it took to convince most people this was true.

“So you shall, my dear,” Ben assured her.

Josie grinned and opened her mouth to say something more, but she was cut short by a loud whinny and galloping hooves coming toward them from around a bend several yards ahead. A small, rider-less red horse charged past, and Ben and Josie had to hold tightly to Buck and Scout to keep them from bolting too.

“Where in the world did that come from?” Josie shouted as Scout reared up and she barely kept her seat. “Was that one of ours?”

“No,” Ben said as he grabbed Scout’s bridle to help settle the mare down. “That horse had a bow and arrows tied to him. It was an Indian pony.”

Josie’s eyes went wide. “On the Ponderosa?” She’d seen a few Indians who wandered into Virginia City on occasion, but she’d never encountered one on the range. The Paiutes in the area had been fighting with the U.S. Army for almost two years, but they generally avoided the larger ranches. Barons like Ben Cartwright could afford to hire men to patrol the borders if needed, and the local tribes knew the risk of capture was too great.

“Something must be wrong,” Ben said as the horses steadied themselves. “The local Paiutes generally respect the Ponderosa’s borders. I better check it out. Stay here, Josephine.” He drew his revolver and turned Buck’s head to continue up the trail in the direction the little red pony had come from.

“No way,” Josie said, drawing her Colt and clucking at Scout to follow Buck. “If there’s one thing that’s guaranteed to bring this family trouble, it’s one of us going off alone. Or haven’t you been paying attention?”

Ben whipped his head around and gave her his sternest stare. “Now listen here, young lady—”

“Uncle Ben, with all due respect, are you going to sit here and bless me out, or are we going to find out why there’s an Indian pony running wild across our ranch?”

Ben’s jaw twitched as he took a deep breath to keep himself from shouting like he would at his sons. “The pony,” he grumbled at last through clenched teeth.

They made their way cautiously up the trail, guns drawn. Just after they rounded the bend the horse had come from, Pip spotted a dead deer and barked to alert Josie and Ben. It was a young buck, judging by the antlers, and it had two arrows sticking out of its side. Ben jumped down from Buck.

“Still warm,” he said, laying a hand on the creature’s neck. “Whoever shot him couldn’t have gotten far.”

Josie glanced around, fearful, but trying not to show it. “They’re not allowed to hunt on our land, are they?”

“They are not,” Ben said firmly as he remounted his horse. “And I’m surprised they’ve tried. We’re friendly with Winnemucca’s people, but they know better than to trespass.”

They continued slowly up the trail, both scanning the woods and trail for any sign of the hunter. After a couple hundred yards, Josie held up her hand to stop Ben and Buck.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

Ben strained his ears but heard nothing, so he shook his head. Josie listened intently for several moments.

“There it is again!” she declared. Ben still heard nothing. Must be getting old, he thought.

“What do you hear?” he said.

“It sounds like growling.” Josie’s brow furrowed. Pip heard it, too, and bounded up the trail. Josie and Ben kicked their horses and followed him. Just before they rounded the next bend, Pip began barking furiously—a deep, throaty sound he used as a warning to anyone or anything he deemed dangerous.

Josie urged Scout to run faster. As she came around the bend just ahead of Ben, she spotted a massive grizzly bear about to take a swipe at a little Indian boy who was backing up against a rock, dragging his left foot in front of him. The bear roared and raised its gigantic paw for a killing blow, and the little boy screamed in terror. Quick as a flash, Josie holstered her revolver, whipped her rifle out of its scabbard, took aim, and fired.

Her bullet went straight through its skull and into its brain, killing it instantly. The animal fell to one side and lay still. Josie leapt from Scout and approached the bear slowly, keeping her rifle trained on it. Ben had caught up by then, dismounted, and followed Josie to the bear. He admired the clean bullet hole in the animal’s right temple.

“Well done, Josephine!” he said. “Well done, indeed!”

Josie nodded acknowledgement but had no interest in her kill. She turned her attention to the boy, who was still cowering next to the rock.

“Are you okay?” she asked, handing her rifle to Ben and approaching the boy.

The child clearly didn’t understand a word. He pressed himself even tighter against the rock, and a few tears slid down his cheeks.

“Poor thing’s scared to death,” Josie said to Ben.

Ben studied the boy. He couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old, and he wore only deer-skin breeches to protect against the cold March air. He was so skinny that all his joints protruded sharply through his skin, and his long, black hair hung in limp strings around his face. Ben’s heart broke; he couldn’t see a child of any race without visualizing his sons at the same age. The child shivered, and Ben leaned Josie’s rifle against a tree, removed his brown corduroy coat, and approached the boy slowly, holding the coat in front of him.

“Here, son,” he said gently. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

His black eyes wild with fear, the child leapt to his feet and tried to run away, but he took only two strides before crying out and crashing to the forest floor. Ben and Josie raced to him, and Ben scooped the child up in arms and wrapped his coat around the skinny, shivering body. The child thrashed a few times, but then, apparently exhausted and finally understanding these people meant him no harm, he went limp in Ben’s arms. Ben sat down under a tree so Josie could examine the boy.

“He’s terribly malnourished,” she said, shaking her head.

“It’s been a hard winter,” Ben replied. “The Paiutes must be desperate if they sent a boy onto the Ponderosa to hunt.”

Josie’s exam also revealed that the child’s left ankle was badly sprained. He must have been thrown when the grizzly spooked his pony. She dug into Scout’s saddlebags and pulled out a couple bandages, which she wrapped tightly around the ankle to keep it still. The boy whimpered when she pulled the bandages tight, but otherwise stayed silent. Josie could tell he was too worn out from the lack of food to put up much of a fuss.

“His ankle will be fine in a couple days, but this child needs food,” she said, looking up at Ben, who was cradling the boy tightly against his chest to warm him up.

“We can’t take him back to the house,” Ben said. “If the Paiutes discover we have one of their children, it could cause a misunderstanding. We’ll have to take him back to his people.”

Josie nodded while a flock of butterflies exploded in her stomach. Winnemucca and his people maintained a settlement not too far from the Ponderosa, but she’d never expected to visit it. “Should we go get some men first?”

“No,” Ben grunted as he rose to his feet, still holding the boy, who was now calmly snuggled up in Ben’s coat, his head resting on Ben’s chest. “We don’t want to look like we’re invading.” He glanced at Josie and saw the anxiety written on her face. “It’ll be fine. Winnemucca knows I don’t mean his people any harm.”

She hoped he was right.

They picked their way carefully back to the horses, where Josie sheathed her rifle and dug a scrap of paper and a stubby pencil out of her saddlebag. She jotted a quick note to Adam so he and the others wouldn’t worry if they missed supper and tied the note to Pip’s collar.

“Go home, Pip!” she told the dog. “Go find Adam!”

Pip barked excitedly and shot down the trail toward home.

Josie put the pencil back in her saddlebag and drew out some jerky. She handed it to the boy who eyed it suspiciously for a moment, then snatched it from her hand and crammed the entire wad into his mouth at once. Ben watched the boy eat greedily and sadly shook his head. He handed the child to Josie, mounted Buck, and reached down for the boy and nestled him safely in the front of his saddle. Josie swung onto Scout, and Ben led the way back down the trail.

When they reached the dead deer, Ben reined to a stop. Josie pulled up alongside him, and Ben carefully passed her the little boy, still bundled up in Ben’s coat. Josie worried that Uncle Ben was getting too cold, but she couldn’t deny the boy needed the coat more than her uncle did. She scooted back in her saddle to make room for the child and watched as Ben slid off Buck and stepped over to the dead deer. He yanked the arrows out of the deer’s body and lifted the animal onto Buck’s rump. He tied the deer securely to his horse and swung back into the saddle.

“You’re letting him keep the deer he poached?” Josie asked, curiously, not critically.

Ben sighed. “I hope this doesn’t encourage the Paiutes to come onto our land for hunting, but I can’t let this child starve. Not when I have the power to prevent it.”

Josie smiled at him. There was no doubting her uncle’s kindness.

They rode in silence for several hours as Ben led Josie down the mountain and off the Ponderosa. As the sun began to dip in the late afternoon, Josie noticed her uncle shivering, and she hoped they would reach their destination soon so he could get his coat back. She was so very tired of treating her family for exposure.

The sun was dropping below the horizon when they finally reached the Paiute camp fifteen miles off Ponderosa land. Josie marveled at the little huts that were grouped together to create the Paiute village. She’d expected teepees like she’d seen in books, but the Paiutes didn’t live in skin tents. Instead, there were dozens of circular, wooden-framed huts covered with sagebrush and pine boughs. She was also surprised there weren’t more people milling about. She’d heard that Indian villages were busy, lively places, but this one felt deserted, or, she realized with a shudder, closed-up, like Virginia City had been during the influenza epidemic back in the fall.

“Something’s wrong,” Ben said grimly, confirming Josie’s suspicions. “Where is everyone?”

Apart from three spindly women squatting around a small cooking fire, the village appeared abandoned. Josie detected a sharp, bitter odor coming from whatever it was they were boiling. She wrinkled her nose and looked at Ben.

“Mesquite beans,” he said. “Cattle fodder, mostly. You can eat them in a pinch, but they taste terrible. These people must be pretty bad off.”

One of the women at the fire looked up and called out loudly in Paiute to the rest of the village. The little boy in Josie’s saddle shouted a reply. Two men rushed out of a nearby hut, Josie stiffened as they approached. Her hand drifted instinctively toward her Colt, but Ben barked at her to keep her hands clear of her weapons. One of the men reached up and ripped the boy from Josie’s arms and hustled him into one of the huts. The other motioned for Josie and Ben to dismount. This man was shorter than the other, but his fierce eyes and squared shoulders revealed his leadership position.

“Ben Cartwright,” the man said in a gruff voice as Josie and Ben slid stiffly to the ground.

“Winnemucca,” Ben said, nodding to him. He gestured to Josie. “Allow me to introduce my niece, Josephine.”

Josie smiled nervously as the Indian chief nodded to her. Then she pictured what Aunt Rachel’s expression would be if she knew Josie were in an Indian village and had to stifle a laugh.

“This belongs to the boy,” Ben said, pointing over his shoulder to the deer still strapped to Buck’s rump.

“We do not need your charity,” the chief said, his eyes narrowing. He spoke slowly and deliberately, and Josie was impressed by his English. According to everyone back east, the natives were an ignorant lot who communicated in grunts. She could hardly wait to write to Michaela and Katherine and tell them how misinformed they had all been.

“Not charity at all,” Ben replied cheerfully. “The boy shot it. My niece and I came across him a bit later and saw he was injured, so we thought we’d bring him—and his prize—home.”

Josie admired her uncle’s masterful omission of whose land the boy was on when he shot the deer. “His horse got spooked,” she added. “He hurt his ankle. He should stay off it for a few days.”

The Indian shifted his piercing black eyes from Ben to Josie. He studied her carefully, taking in her long, dark hair, black coat, jeans, and boots. His eyes twinkled with amusement when he saw her Colt strapped to her right hip.

“You know much of medicine?” he asked.

“A bit,” Josie answered with a wry smile.

“Josephine is a doctor,” Ben said. “A good one, at that.”

Winnemucca seemed to be considering something for a moment, but apparently decided against it. Instead of speaking whatever was on his mind, he said, “You will stay and eat with us.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ben replied. “We should be getting back to the Ponderosa.” Winnemucca was also much thinner than he had been the last time Ben had seen him, and Ben didn’t want to take any food away from these clearly desperate people.

“You will stay and eat with us,” Winnemucca repeated.

Refusing a second time would insult the Indian chief, so he graciously accepted. Winnemucca turned back toward the village and shouted something in his native language. Three young men—teenagers, by the looks of them—scampered out of another hut and rushed over. Like everyone else in the village, these boys were too thin, their eyes were sunken and hollow. Two of them took Ben’s and Josie’s horses, and the third took the deer off Buck and carried it to the women at the cooking fire. The women chattered excitedly when they saw the fresh meat, and they started butchering it immediately.

“Come, Ben Cartwright,” Winnemucca said. “Let us go inside where it is warm.” Still without his coat, Ben was only too glad to follow the chief into his hut. Josie was apprehensive, but she trusted her uncle and followed along.

The door to the hut was small, and even Josie had to duck to avoid hitting her head on the way in. Once inside, it took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim light cast by the small fire in the center of the shelter. Though modest, the fire let off a warm glow, and Josie and Ben sat down gratefully in its warmth. Winnemucca handed them each a rabbit-skin blanket, for which Ben was especially thankful.

“I will get your coat,” the chief said, and he slipped back out of the hut, leaving Ben and Josie to bask in the heat from the fire.

That was when Josie noticed the woman on the pallet at the back of the hut. The woman let out a dry, hacking cough and moaned softly. Josie cast one concerned look at Ben, threw off her blanket, and raced to the back of the hut. The woman—no older than Josie herself—was running a dangerously high fever. Josie tried to wake her, but the young woman was in a stupor and only moaned again when Josie jostled her. Ben hustled over and knelt next to her.

“Oh, dear Lord, it’s Sarah,” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Sarah,” Ben repeated. “Winnemucca’s daughter. She’s a year or two younger than Little Joe. Her Paiute name is ‘Shell Flower,’ but Winnemucca gave her and her sister Christian names in the hopes it would create some goodwill with the government during negotiations. Hasn’t really worked. What’s wrong with her?”

Josie looked up at Ben, her eyes brimming with the bad news. “It’s typhus, Uncle Ben.”

Ben’s eyes went wide. “Typhus?” he echoed as he backed away from the chief’s daughter. “Are you sure?”

Josie nodded. “It’s the rash that gives it away. Dull and red, covering everything except the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet.” She turned one of Sarah’s hands toward Ben to show him what she meant.

“And now we’ve been exposed,” Ben said grimly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Typhus is like the measles; you only catch it once. But unlike the measles, you often don’t come down with it at all. Just being exposed is usually enough to make you immune. With all the traveling you’ve done around the world, you should be fine.”

“What about you?”

“Oh,” Josie waved a hand dismissively, “I was around typhus all the time when I was working in the poorhouses in Philadelphia.”

Relief washed over Ben. They’d gotten lucky during the influenza outbreak, and he didn’t want to tempt fate. “I wonder how many others are ill,” he mused.

“I would guess a lot, by how deserted the village seems. This girl has probably been sick for a week already. They may have had a lot of deaths by now.”

“Can you do anything for her?”

Josie nodded. “I’ve got a bottle of quinine in my saddlebags. I always carry one along with some iodine.”

Winnemucca reentered the hut with Ben’s coat in his hand.

“The family of the boy is indebted to you,” he said. Then he noticed Ben and Josie leaning over his daughter. He dropped Ben’s coat, crossed the hut in two long strides, and yanked Ben away from the pallet. Frightened, Josie backed away, too. “You must not touch my daughter!” he snarled.

“I can help her,” Josie said firmly, rising to her feet. “I know what’s wrong. I can help.” Winnemucca cut his black eyes to Josie, who met his gaze and did not blink. The chief’s angry glare slowly evolved into a look of approval as he recognized the courage in this young woman.

“You can cure her?” he asked, hope creeping into his voice.

“I can’t promise that. But I can try.”

Winnemucca stared into Josie’s eyes a few moments longer, then said, “You may try.”

“Where’s my horse?”

Winnemucca led Josie back to Scout, and Josie dug her quinine out of her saddlebags. She raced back to the hut and gave Sarah a generous dose.

“It’ll be all right,” she whispered to her insensible patient, more for her own benefit than for Sarah’s. “This should lower her fever,” Josie explained to Winnemucca. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

“Thank you,” Winnemucca said.

“How many of your people are ill?” Ben asked.

The chief sighed. “At least thirty. We have already buried seven dead.”

Ben closed his eyes. Thirty people was a fifth of Winnemucca’s band. No wonder their food stores were so low; everyone was either sick or tending to the sick.

Josie handed the bottle of quinine to Winnemucca and explained how much to give each sick person. “I can come back tomorrow with more,” she said.

Winnemucca hesitated before accepting the bottle. Ben understood. The Northern Paiutes had been in conflict with the U.S. Army off and on for several years now, and while the Indian war had settled as the Army diverted its resources to the Civil War, there was still much distrust between the Indians and the whites. Winnemucca was loathe to accept gifts, even from the Cartwrights with whom he was on friendly terms. He shook his head and held up a hand.

“We have our own medicine,” he said.

“At this point, what have you got to lose?” Josie asked, thrusting the bottle toward him again.

“You make a good argument,” the chief said with a small smile as he accepted the bottle. “I will get our food.”

Josie sat down heavily next to Sarah, smoothed the girl’s sweaty black hair, and tried not to think of Margaret. Guessing Josie’s thoughts, Ben sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. Josie leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I hope I wasn’t too late,” Josie said, gazing down at Sarah.

“You did what you could. The Lord doesn’t ask us for more than that.”

Winnemucca reappeared with three bowls of steaming venison stew, and Josie and Ben suddenly realized how hungry they were. Neither of them had eaten since breakfast, and they scarfed it down.

When they finished eating, Ben thanked their host for the meal and announced that he and Josie needed to head back to the Ponderosa. Josie cast one last look at Sarah and followed Ben out of the hut.

“One of my cousins and I will be back tomorrow with more quinine,” she promised Winnemucca. The chief nodded and wished them a safe journey home.

It was nearly midnight by the time Josie and Ben finally returned home, but Adam, Hoss, Little Joe, and Pip were still awake and waiting for them in the living room. Relief washed over their faces as Ben and Josie stepped through the front door. Adam leapt from Ben’s armchair and gathered Josie up in a big hug.

“Sorry if we worried you,” Josie said. “We encountered something we didn’t expect.”

“Who was worried?” Hoss said with a sheepish grin.

“We got your note,” Adam said, gesturing to Pip. “What happened?” Josie and Ben told him about finding the boy and the illness that had gripped the Paiute village. Adam blanched. “Typhus? Do you think we should warn the town?”

“Not unless the townspeople like to visit the Paiutes,” Josie said. “Besides, I’m sure that at least most of the miners have already been exposed to typhus. It tends to sweep through places where people live close together without good sanitation. Papa told me in one of his letters that they’re having a terrible time with it in the Army camps.” An enormous yawn split her jaw, and she announced she was going to bed. Everyone agreed that sounded like a good idea, said their goodnights, and retired to their bedrooms.

---

Adam rode to the Paiute village with Josie and Pip the next day to deliver three more bottles of quinine. It was Josie’s entire supply, so Little Joe made a simultaneous journey to Virginia City to wire the apothecary in San Francisco for more. It was a shorter ride to the village from the house than from the alpine country, so they made it in about three hours. Winnemucca himself greeted them when they arrived. His eyes widened when he saw the massive wolfhound accompanying the little raven-haired doctor, but even Pip’s presence couldn’t distract from Winnemucca’s happy news.

“My daughter’s fever has broken,” he said as soon as Josie leapt down from Scout. Josie could tell that he was working hard to contain his excitement. She supposed that running around and shouting for joy was not a very chief-like thing to do.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. Adam, standing behind her, grinned broadly.

“Your sister has saved my daughter’s life,” Winnemucca told Adam.

“Technically, she’s my cousin,” Adam said.

Winnemucca shook his head and studied the pair closely. “You are of the same spirit. Man may say she is your cousin, but the spirits say otherwise.”

Josie grinned.

“Besides,” Winnemucca continued, “she looks just like you.”

Josie burst out laughing, while Adam shook his head and smiled. “We do hear that a lot,” he admitted.

Winnemucca turned to Pip, who was standing close to Josie in a wide-legged stance that wasn’t unfriendly but was undeniably protective. He didn’t growl, but he stared unblinkingly at the Paiute chief. Winnemucca held out a hand to the dog and spoke softly in his native language. Pip sat, wagged his tail, and allowed the Indian chief to scratch him.

“His name’s Pip,” Josie told the chief.

“This animal is a warrior,” Winnemucca said approvingly. He whistled sharply, and from around the back of one of the huts came a leggy brown-and-white dog. She was a good deal smaller than Pip—as were most dogs—but she had the pointed ears, bottlebrush tail, and long muzzle of a wolf. She stared up at Adam and Josie, and Adam got the distinct impression that her intelligent yellow eyes could see clear through to his soul.

“This is Esa,” Winnemucca said and gestured to Josie that she should greet the animal.

“She’s beautiful,” Josie breathed as she scratched the dog’s head. “What does her name mean?”

“Wolf,” Winnemucca quipped with a crooked smile.

“It suits her,” Adam said, reaching out a hand for Esa to sniff. “Is she full wolf?”

“About half. She has been my friend through many adventures, and she is to be treated with respect.”

Pip seemed to agree. He approached Esa slowly, tail wagging, and licked her muzzle in a submissive gesture. Esa nipped playfully at his ear, and before long, the two dogs were racing around the village, barking happily.

Josie, Adam, and Winnemucca smiled and watched the new friends for a few moments before Josie began her medical rounds.

She looked in first on Sarah Winnemucca. The young lady’s fever had, indeed, broken, and she smiled at Josie and grasped her hand.

“You came to me in a dream last night,” Sarah whispered weakly. “You told me I would be all right, and you stroked my hair as my mother used to when I was small, so I knew you were telling the truth.”

“That wasn’t a dream,” Josie said. “That was real.”

“Dreams are real,” Sarah insisted with as much force as her illness-ravaged body could muster. “They are simply another plane of existence.”

“That’s an interesting philosophical topic for another day,” Josie said with a smile. “I am glad you are feeling better. I should go check on the others.” She squeezed Sarah’s hand and made a quick round of the thirty other ill Paiutes. Many were beyond human assistance, but she was hopeful that the quinine would help most of them recover.

Before she left, she visited the little boy she and Ben had rescued. His ankle was swollen, but Josie assured him and his mother, for whom Winnemucca translated, that he should be back to normal in a few days.

“Otskai and his family thank you,” Winnemucca said.

“Is that his name?” Josie asked, nodding toward the boy. Winnemucca nodded. “What does it mean?”

“It means, ‘One Who Goes Out. Yesterday was not the first time he ran off and got into trouble.”

Josie giggled. “Suits him, then.” Otskai said something to his mother, who laughed, and Josie looked to Winnemucca for another translation.

“He says we should call you ‘Padooa Mogo’ne,’” Winnemucca said, looking confused. “It means ‘Bear Woman.’ Why would he say that?”

Josie blushed. “I may have shot a grizzly bear that was about to attack him.” She looked down and kicked at the dirt. “It was nothing.”

“To this boy, it was everything.”

Josie whistled for Pip as Winnemucca walked Adam and Josie back to their horses and wished them well.

“We are indebted to you,” he said. “If you find yourself in trouble, please call on us.”

“We will,” Josie said. “Take care.”

Pip and Esa appeared from out of the trees a few moments later. Pip carried a dead squirrel, which he dropped at Esa’s feet before slinking over to Josie with his head drooping.

“I’m sorry, boy,” Josie said. “Maybe we can visit again sometime.”

“You are always welcome,” Winnemucca said. Adam and Josie smiled at him and mounted up.

As the pair of them rode out of the village, Adam turned to Josie. “Do you have any idea what an amazing thing you did back there?”

“All I did was hand out some quinine. And I’m afraid it came too late for a lot of them.”

Adam shook his head. “You don’t understand. The Army has been fighting those people since the Comstock strike four years ago. There has been nothing but bloodshed between the Indians and the settlers, and you just rode in there and made friends. How did you do it?”

“I didn’t do anything any decent person wouldn’t have done,” Josie replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “To be honest, Winnemucca scares me to death.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about from him.”

---

Hoss and Little Joe couldn’t help bragging, and before long, everyone in Virginia City had heard about Josie shooting the grizzly bear and saving Chief Winnemucca’s daughter from typhus. A few townspeople said Josie should have let the savages die, but most were impressed that she had won the favor of the fierce Paiute warrior.

Because of the heavy workload all their ranches required in the springtime, Adam, Simon, and Ross made slow progress on Josie’s clinic throughout the month of March. Adam was frustrated because issues kept arising on the Ponderosa that needed his attention and drew him away from the construction. Their cattle had been unusually prolific despite the hard winter, and they had about a third more calves to brand than they did most years. In addition, the snowstorms had wreaked havoc on fences and line shacks, so they spent more time than usual repairing those. A week and a half after Josie’s visit to the Paiute village, when Adam had hoped he’d be hanging the walls of the clinic, he, Simon, and Ross had only just managed to erect the framework. Josie came home from Dr. Martin’s clinic in Virginia City that Friday to find him scowling at the building’s still-exposed skeleton.

“It’s all right, Adam,” Josie said. “I know everyone’s been busy. You’ll get it done, and I’m going to love it.”

“Yeah, I’m just impatient.” He looked over and smiled at Josie, who smiled back. He narrowed his eyes. Josie looked awfully pale. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little tired. I got into your Wilkie Collins novels last week, and I’ve been staying up too late reading.”

Adam chuckled. “I’ve done that more than a few times myself. Especially with Wilkie Collins. Which one are you reading?”

“The new one, ‘No Name.’ A little scandalous, but I like it.” She shot Adam a wicked grin, which he returned. “I’m gonna get Scout bedded down. I’ll see you inside.”

Adam watched Josie walk back to her horse and mount up—rather stiffly, he thought. He shrugged it off. She probably was just overtired, like she said. He stared at the unfinished clinic a few moments more to decide where to pick up later that week when Simon and Ross could make it out to the Ponderosa again, and then he trudged back to the house.

Dinner that evening was quieter than usual. Little Joe was camping out on the range with some of the ranch hands so they could get an earlier start the next morning, and Ben, Adam, and Hoss were worn out from their long day. After supper, everyone, including Pip, settled in the living room for a relaxed evening. Ben and Hoss battled on the checkers board while Josie and Adam reclined with novels on opposite ends of the settee.

As much as Josie was enjoying the Collins novel, she had a hard time concentrating on it. Every muscle in her body ached, and her head was beginning to pound as well. And those oil lamps! She’d never noticed how painfully bright they were. She’d definitely been overdoing it lately.

From his end of the sofa, Adam saw Josie blinking a lot and massaging the back of her neck.

“Hey,” he said to catch her attention. She turned her head slowly toward him as if the motion hurt. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she said with a forced smile. “Just tired. Think I’ll turn in.” She rose from the settee, kissed them all goodnight, and mounted the stairs with slow, deliberate steps, one hand massaging her lower back, just at the waistband of her skirt. Pip followed her a bit more closely than usual.

Adam watched her go. “She isn’t feeling well,” he said when he heard Josie’s bedroom door close.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Ben said, his eyes never leaving the checkers board. “Probably just a cold.”

Adam rapped softly on Josie’s bedroom door before he went to bed about an hour later. When she didn’t answer, he opened the door a crack and peeked in. Pip was curled up on the floor, and Josie was sound asleep in her bed, her black hair fanned out across her pillow. Adam closed the door quietly and went to bed.

When Josie awoke the following morning, the sunlight streaming in her windows stabbed her eyes. She clapped a hand over them and gasped in pain. She’d never felt so awful in her life. Her head pounded so hard it might burst, and every muscle and joint in her body screamed in pain at the slightest movement. She shivered violently despite the heavy quilt covering her, and when she tried to get out of bed, she struck a wall of dizziness that dropped her to the floor. She wanted to call for help, but her head hurt so badly that the mere thought of raising her voice loudly enough to be heard downstairs brought tears to her eyes. She pulled herself up onto all fours and crawled to the door. Just reaching up for the door latch took a herculean effort, and once she had the door open, she had to sit in the doorway for a minute to catch her breath. “This can’t be possible,” she thought. But the aches in her body and the fever she felt coming on told her otherwise.

Downstairs, Ben, Adam, and Hoss were finishing up breakfast, and Hoss remarked how strange it was that Josie hadn’t joined them yet.

“She ain’t never the last one down,” he said.

“That’s because Little Joe is always late,” Ben replied drily.

The three men were still chuckling when they heard a creak on the staircase landing and turned around. There stood Josie, white as a ghost and clinging to the landing railing for dear life. The Cartwright men sat stunned.

“I don’t wish to alarm anyone,” Josie gasped, “but would one of you be so good as to ride for Dr. Martin?” Then she swooned.

The dining room exploded.

Ben leapt from his seat, raced for the sideboard, and in one swift motion grabbed his coat, hat, and gun. He shouted to Adam and Hoss to take care of Josie as he darted out the door to saddle up Buck and ride pell-mell into town.

At the same time, Hoss, too, leapt from his seat and dashed across the living room to try to catch Josie before she fell down the stairs. But he misjudged his proximity to the coffee table, tripped, and went sprawling, his chin skidding across the wooden floorboards.

Adam saved the day. Crossing the living room in three long strides and leaping neatly over his fallen brother, he bounded up the first flight of stairs and caught Josie just before her head cracked onto the floor of the landing.

“Josie?” he mewled, stroking her cheek. His stomach twisted as he felt the heat radiating from her skin.

Her eyelids fluttered and she stared up at Adam with unfocused eyes. “Adam, I don’t feel good,” she whispered.

“I know, Little Sister.” He hoped he sounded soothing because he was shaking with fear. “Don’t worry. Pa’s gone for Dr. Martin. He’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

Josie nodded and closed her eyes. Hoss had picked himself up and joined Adam and Josie on the landing. He and Adam exchanged a brief glance that spoke volumes, and Adam gathered Josie in his arms and carried her back upstairs and to her bedroom. Hoss threw back the covers on her bed, and Adam laid her down and tucked her in.

“Cold,” Josie whimpered.

“I’ll get another blanket,” Hoss said, and he scooted from the room. He nearly collided with Hop Sing, who had heard the commotion from the kitchen and had come out to investigate. Adam pulled the curtains open a little farther in the hopes that the sunlight coming in the windows would help warm Josie up. As soon as the light hit her, however, she threw one arm weakly across her eyes and began to cry.

“Josie, what is it? What’s wrong?” Adam asked, nearly crying himself.

“It hurts,” she sobbed.

“What hurts?”

“Light!”

Adam stood there perplexed, but Hop Sing understood. He dashed to the windows and yanked the curtains closed so vehemently it was a miracle they held fast to the wall.

“Is that better?” Adam asked as he pulled Josie’s armchair alongside the bed and sat down. She nodded weakly.

Hoss returned with another heavy quilt, and he and Adam spread it over her and tucked it in around her.

“Do you think it’s influenza?” Adam said as he and Hoss gazed down at Josie who was now only half-conscious.

“I don’t know,” Hoss answered. “Came on quick like influenza, but she ain’t been around it since the epidemic last year. Who’s she been treatin’ lately?”

“No one in particular. Just the Paiutes.” He paused. “Oh my God. The Paiutes. They had typhus.” He stared fearfully at Hoss.

“I thought Josie said she couldn’t catch typhus.”

“Maybe she was wrong.”

There was nothing else to say. They would know nothing for certain until Ben returned with Dr. Martin, so Hop Sing got a bowl of cool water and some rags so they could try to fend off Josie’s rapidly rising fever.

And they waited.

Nearly four hours passed before Ben returned with Josie’s colleague, by which time, despite Adam, Hoss, and Hop Sing’s best efforts, Josie’s fever had risen to the point of delirium. Dr. Martin hustled into the room, took one look at his ailing young protégé, and said sadly, “Oh, Josie.” He ripped open his medical bag and began his examination. Ben, Adam, and Hoss looked on anxiously as Dr. Martin pried open Josie’s eyelids, looked down her throat, and took her pulse. When he finally stepped back from the bed, he looked grim. “Ben, could I speak with you, please?” he said. He stepped out of the bedroom, intending for only Ben to follow him, but Adam, Hop Sing, and Hoss trailed closely behind. Dr. Martin sighed and turned to the eldest Cartwright. “It’s bad, Ben.”

“How bad?” Ben asked, taking a step closer to the doctor.

“I wouldn’t typically suspect typhus, but given her recent contact with the disease, that’s got to be what it is,” Dr. Martin said. Hop Sing made small whimpering sound in the back of his throat, but otherwise everyone was startled into silence.

“That can’t be,” Ben insisted. “She told me she was immune since she had been exposed during her internship in Philadelphia.”

“Exposure is usually all it takes,” Dr. Martin conceded, “but not always. In Josie’s case, it doesn’t seem to have been enough.”

“But she’ll be all right, won’t she?” Hoss said.

Dr. Martin sighed again. “I’d give Josie as good a chance as anyone. She’s young and strong, but typhus can claim up to half its victims.”

“What are you saying?” Ben asked urgently, grabbing the doctor’s arm.

“I’m saying there’s a chance she won’t pull through,” Dr. Martin replied, not meeting Ben’s gaze. “I’m saying you should be prepared for the worst. Just in case.”

Adam’s vision went fuzzy, and he gripped Hoss’s arm. Hoss patted his shoulder.

“Don’t you worry, Older Brother,” Hoss said. “Our Josie’s tougher than an angry grizzly. If anyone can pull through, it’s her.”

“Sure, sure,” Adam said absently, focusing on quelling the nausea that threatened to cost him his breakfast.

“I’m going to have to quarantine the ranch,” Dr. Martin continued. “No one in or out. Where’s Little Joe?”

“He’s rounding up cattle on the far side of the property,” Ben said. “We’re not expecting him home for another two days.”

“He has to stay away until this is over,” Dr. Martin said. He didn’t say as much, but everyone silently added “One way or the other.”

Ben nodded. “Paul, would you be so good as to send a telegram for me when you get back to town?”

“Of course, Ben.”

The five men went downstairs, where Ben pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen to compose his telegram. Adam’s stomach lurched when he saw what his father had written:

TO: Hannah Cartwright, Stoddard House, Boston, Massachusetts

FROM: Benjamin Cartwright, Ponderosa Ranch, Nevada Territory

MESSAGE: Josie seriously ill with typhus STOP Recovery uncertain STOP Will keep                                                you advised STOP Love Ben

“Pa,” Hoss began, “you think that’s necessary? You’re gonna give Aunt Hannah a powerful scare.”

“She has to know, Hoss,” Ben said. “If Josie doesn’t— I mean, if she— ” he couldn’t spit out the words. He took a deep breath and tried again. “If the worst happens, Hannah must be prepared. I’d want to know if it were one of you.” He folded the paper and handed it to Dr. Martin along with a few coins to pay for the transmission. Dr. Martin handed him a brown bottle in return.

“Quinine,” the doctor said. “It’s the best thing for typhus. It will help control her fever. Hoss knows how much to give her.”

“How long can we expect this to last?” Ben asked.

“Typhus moves slowly. The fever can last up to two weeks. I’m afraid you’re all in for a long journey, whichever way this goes. Stay close to her. Try to control the fever. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben said, passing the quinine bottle to Hoss and walking the doctor to the door. He saw the man out and then turned to his pale sons and housekeeper. “You heard the doctor. We’ll take shifts sitting with her. Hoss, please show everyone how much medicine Josie should get.”

Hoss nodded and grabbed a spoon from the kitchen so he could show the others what an appropriate dose looked like. Adam tried to pay attention, but he barely heard a word his brother said. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Josie fighting for her life in her bed upstairs. Images of her as a little girl flashed through his mind in such rapid succession he thought he was going insane. No longer able to stand it, he darted back upstairs and into Josie’s bedroom, where he dropped into the armchair next to her bed. He grabbed a sodden rag from the bowl on the nightstand and began mopping her brow again. She barely stirred at his touch, and Adam blinked back tears.

“You have to make it through this, Josie,” he whispered. “We need you. I need you.” He heard footsteps at the door and looked up to see Ben carrying in the armchair from his own bedroom. He placed it on the opposite side of the bed and sat down. The two men kept a silent vigil through the afternoon and into the evening.

At suppertime, Ben went downstairs to the table, but Adam refused to leave Josie’s side, so Hop Sing brought him a tray along with a bowl of beef broth for Josie. She’d been insensible all day, so Adam had to prop her up while Hop Sing spooned the broth into her mouth. They managed to get most of the it into her, which Adam found encouraging, but no matter what any of them did, they couldn’t lower her raging fever. Even the quinine seemed to have little effect.

After supper, Hoss came in and offered to sit with Josie through the night. Ben accepted and went to bed, but Adam refused to budge. The brothers sat up with their cousin all night long, neither of them leaving her side except once when Hoss left to refill the bowl of water. Hoss tried a few times to make conversation, but Adam was too lost in his own thoughts to chat.

As the first rays of dawn bled over the horizon, Josie’s condition worsened. She was so delirious she now tried to fight off anyone who tried to give her food or water. Tears streamed from Hoss’s eyes as he pinioned Josie’s arms and held her still enough for Adam to pour water into her mouth. An hour later, Ben wandered bleary-eyed into Josie’s bedroom to relieve his sons. Adam still refused to leave, but Ben insisted he go downstairs at least long enough to eat something and help Hoss clean up the breakfast dishes so Hop Sing could help with Josie.

No sooner had Adam and Hoss reached the first floor then there was a sharp knock at the front door. Forgetting about the quarantine, Adam flung the door open to see the cheerful, smiling faces of Simon and Ross. Adam stood confused until he remembered that they were supposed to work on Josie’s clinic that day.

“Hey there, Adam!” Simon greeted him brightly. “Ready to work?”

Simon hadn’t realized something was wrong, but Ross instantly recognized the dread in his best friend’s bloodshot eyes. He took a step forward.

“What’s happened?”

“You can’t be here,” Adam said dully. “We’re quarantined.”

“What?” Ross exclaimed.

Simon’s dark eyes widened. “Where’s Josie?”

Adam caught the younger man’s gaze. “She’s the one who’s sick.” His voice wavered. “It’s typhus.”

Simon dropped onto the rocking chair on the porch and cradled his head in his hands. With all the work he’d been doing on the Lucky Star and building Josie’s clinic, he hadn’t had an opportunity to tell her about his conversation with Adam last month and invite her to court. “Why didn’t I make the time to tell her?” he whispered.

Ross glanced at Simon and then back at Adam. He was concerned about Josie, too, but he kept his cool in an emergency. “What do you need?” he asked.

Adam took a deep breath to clear his foggy head. “It’s a lot to ask, but would you ride out to the southwestern corner of the Ponderosa and tell Little Joe? He’s supposed to come home tomorrow, but Dr. Martin said he has to stay away until…” he searched for the right words, “until Josie’s better.”

“You got it.” Ross nodded and then turned to Simon. “You’re coming with me, boy,” he said, tapping Simon’s shoulder.

“No, I’ll stay here,” Simon said, his head still down.

“You’re not gonna sit here and clog up the Cartwrights’ porch. Now get up, and let’s go.” Simon rose reluctantly and followed Ross back to their horses.

Simon paused before mounting up. “You’ll tell Josie I was here, won’t you, Adam?”

“Of course,” Adam said. He didn’t add that in her current state Josie wouldn’t know the difference. He raised a hand in farewell as Ross and Simon galloped away.

Adam returned to the kitchen and choked down a couple pieces of toast before helping Hoss wash the few dishes. Hoss headed to bed, but Adam returned to Josie’s side. Ben turned around when he entered the room.

“Son,” he said gently as Hop Sing mopped Josie’s forehead, “get some sleep. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

Adam knew he needed to rest so he did not come down ill, too, but he couldn’t stand to leave Josie for more than a few minutes. He considered his options for a moment, then pulled off his boots and lay down on top of the covers next to Josie.

Ben sighed. “That isn’t what I meant,” he grumbled.

“Should have been more specific,” Adam mumbled drowsily.

Ben shook his head as his son drifted off. They were in for a long haul.

---

Adam awoke when Dr. Martin arrived about an hour later to examine Josie again. He felt her cheek and shook his head. “Her fever’s really high,” he said, “but that isn’t unexpected. Has she eaten anything?”

Ben related their success at getting Josie to drink some broth the night before. This seemed to encourage Dr. Martin, who told them to keep it up and that he would be back in two.

“Don’t be alarmed if she develops a rash,” he told Ben and Adam.

“Everywhere but the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet,” Ben muttered.

Dr. Martin nodded and said he would see himself out. As soon as he left, Adam lay back down and dozed off again. He slept for only another hour before Josie woke him up.

“They’re dead! They’re all dead!” she screamed, her thrashing arms striking him several times as he shook off his drowsiness. Ben, who was still sitting in the armchair next to the bed, grabbed Josie’s arms to keep her from hurting herself.

“Josephine!” he hollered. “Josie! It’s okay! No one’s dead. Everyone’s okay.”

Josie looked at her uncle, but her eyes were glassy and unfocused. Ben’s heart broke. She didn’t recognize him. She did, however, respond to his deep, gruff voice that was so similar to her father’s.

“Papa?” she said. Then, apparently believing Ben really was his younger brother, she cried “Papa!” and collapsed against his chest. “I’ve missed you so much!” she whimpered between sobs.

Ben wrapped his arms tightly around Josie and looked over her head at Adam with an expression that clearly said, “What do I do?” Adam met his gaze and nodded.

“It’s all right, Josie,” Ben said soothingly. He kissed her forehead. “Papa’s here. Everything’s okay.”

Josie sobbed for a few moments more before accepting a couple sips of water and allowing Ben to lower her back onto her pillows. He rested his hand on her forehead as he had always done to calm his sons and, unbeknownst to him, Jacob had always done to soothe Josie, and she was soon asleep again.

“Did I just do a terrible thing?” he asked Adam without looking up from his niece.

“No. Look how peacefully she’s sleeping.”

Josie slept quietly the rest of the afternoon. A couple hours before supper, Little Joe returned home with Simon in tow. He’d ignored Ross’s warnings to stay away from the house. As soon as he heard the words “Josie is sick,” he kicked Cochise hard and made a beeline for home. Hoss stopped him at the porch before he could go inside.

“You can’t come in, Joe,” Hoss said firmly. “I shouldn’t even be standin’ out here talkin’ to you. Now you go stay with Ross or Simon until this clears out.” Then he went back into the house and slammed the door in Joe’s face.

Little Joe screeched and kicked the front door as hard as he could, tears streaming down his face. “She’s mine, too!” he screamed up at the windows. Simon grabbed him and dragged him away from the house just before he could punch the heavy oak door with his bare fist. Joe twisted to break free, but his friend had too strong of a grip on him. Little Joe sank to his knees in the front yard and sobbed.

“She’ll be all right,” Simon said, loosening his grip but leaving one arm around Joe’s shoulders. “She’s got Adam and Hoss and Hop Sing and Mr. Cartwright all taking care of her. She’ll be all right.”

“I want to help,” Joe hiccupped. “I just want to do something.”

Simon understood. The helplessness was infuriating. He wracked his brain for an idea. “Maybe there is something we can do,” he said thoughtfully.

Joe looked up at him, his eyes full of hope. “What?”

“We can finish building her clinic.”

Joe’s eyes lit up. “Let’s do it.”

The two young men sprang to their feet and headed to the barn to collect their tools.

---

Josie’s fever raged for the next several days as she developed the telltale red rash. It began on her chest and spread rapidly across her entire body, except her palms and soles. Adam, Ben, Hoss, and Hop Sing took turns sitting up with her to give her quinine and sponge off her burning forehead. Adam refused to leave her for more than the few moments it took for him to run to the washroom or eat a quick sandwich. He no longer slept through the night, instead catching short stretches of sleep next to Josie every few hours. As the days wore on, it was increasingly difficult to get Josie to take broth and water, and it became clear that she was weakening. By the fifth day, Ben began to debate whether he should send Hannah another telegram.

Word had spread through Virginia City that Dr. Cartwright was seriously ill, and despite the quarantine signs posted on roads into their property, the Cartwrights often had to turn visitors away from the house, though the guests left offerings of food and gifts. Several of the men stuck around to help Simon and Little Joe work on clinic, and by the fifth day when Josie was worsening, Ross, Isaiah Jenkins, Reverend Lovejoy, Margaret’s father, Amos Crawford, and Sheriff Coffee’s deputy Henry were helping to build the roof and lay the floor. On the sixth day, Patience and Sally arrived, and when they were refused admittance to the house, they joined the men building the clinic.

On the eighth day, Dr. Martin returned to check on Josie. Watching patients succumb to disease was never easy, but watching Josie decline was as difficult for Paul Martin as it would have been if she were his own daughter. His heart broke as he turned sad eyes to the family he knew so well and gave them the worst news any doctor ever had to deliver.

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen. I don’t know that she can pull through. If she makes it through tonight, there’s a chance, but I’m afraid it’s not a very good one. I’m so sorry.” Hoss and Hop Sing both began to cry, and Dr. Martin had to swallow hard to keep from weeping himself.

“That can’t be,” Ben said, collapsing into the armchair next to Josie’s bed. “That just can’t be. She’s twenty-two years old…”

Adam stood by Josie’s bedside, his chest heaving. “You’re wrong!” he roared.

“Son,” Ben said, reaching a hand toward Adam, which the younger man batted away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Adam,” Dr. Martin said gently, “she’s been burning up for over a week. She’s not eating. The body can only take so much.”

“Josie’s can take a bit more.”

Dr. Martin looked like he wanted to say something more, but Ben shook his head. Casting one last sad look at Adam, Ben led the doctor out of the bedroom and to the front door. Sensing Adam wanted some time alone with Josie, Hoss and Hop Sing followed.

As soon as the door shut behind Hop Sing, Adam sank onto the bed next to Josie and pulled her into his arms. Ignoring the heat radiating from her body, he buried his face in her hair and sobbed.

“Please, Josie. Please, don’t go. I can’t lose you.”

Josie, who had been fully unconscious for the past two days, didn’t respond, and this only made Adam cry harder. At some point, exhausted by his long vigil, he fell into a fitful sleep, still clinging to his cousin.

Ben found him thus ten minutes later when he returned to Josie’s bedroom. His brown eyes bloodshot from fatigue and sorrow, Ben leaned over and brushed dark locks of hair off both Adam’s and Josie’s foreheads before sinking into the armchair. Out of earthly options, he began to pray.

“Oh, Lord, please heal our Josie. Please restore her to us. But if it be your will that she join you, please give us the strength to understand that.” He paused for a moment, startled by a sudden rush of fury. “No,” he seethed. “No, I will not understand it.” He gazed at his eldest son, holding tightly to Josie as if doing so might keep her in this world. “And neither will Adam. This family has buried too many women it loved, and each time, we have accepted it as ‘your will.’ We will not do that again. You have taken three mothers from my son. You cannot have his sister. You just can’t have her.” He dissolved into tears and buried his face in his arms on the edge of Josie’s bed and sobbed. “Jacob, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Ben had no idea how long he sat there crying, but he was interrupted by Hoss’s heavy footsteps charging up the stairs.

“Pa!” Hoss called. “There’s Indians here!”

Ben’s head snapped up. Surely he had misheard.

“What?”

“Indians, Pa!” Hoss repeated as he burst into the room, waking Adam. “Winnemucca and a few of his men.”

Ben hopped around Josie’s bed and peered out the window. Sure enough, there in the front yard stood Chief Winnemucca, two of his warriors, and one wizened old man with a gray braid that reached his waist. They had dismounted from their ponies and laid their rifles carefully on the ground to show they meant the Cartwrights no harm. Ben raced downstairs to greet them but stopped short when he reached the porch. Adam, who had leapt out of bed and followed him, nearly slammed into him.

“Winnemucca!” Ben called. “I’m sorry, but we have sickness. It’s dangerous for you to be here.”

“I know, Ben Cartwright,” the chief replied, approaching the porch. “Your niece caught the illness assisting my people. We are here to help her.”

“That’s very kind, but our doctor has been here and said there is nothing else he can do.”

“Nothing else he can do,” Winnemucca said. “I have brought you our medicine man. He helped many of our people who were thought to be beyond hope.”

Adam was flummoxed. If modern science couldn’t help Josie, what did these Indians expect they could do? He looked at Ben and shook his head.

Winnemucca watched the exchange. “At this point, what do you have to lose?” he asked, echoing Josie’s argument to him when he didn’t want to accept the quinine.

Adam threw his hands in the air. “All right. Give it a try.”

“Take us to her,” Winnemucca said.

Ben and Adam led the small contingent into the house and upstairs to Josie’s bedroom. Hoss and Hop Sing stared open-mouthed, and Ben indicated to them that he would explain later.

When they reached Josie’s bedside, the elderly medicine man leaned over, putting his face only inches from Josie’s. He stared at her for several moments and then said something in Paiute to Winnemucca.

“He can restore her,” Winnemucca said. “We must take her outside.”

Adam made a moue of protest, but Ben shushed him. Winnemucca gathered Josie in his arms and lifted her easily. Josie groaned softly but was otherwise still. She laid her head against the chief’s bare chest, her white nightgown contrasting sharply with the man’s dark skin. Winnemucca muttered something soothingly to her in Paiute and carried her down the stairs and into the front yard, where his two warriors had already built a small fire. The medicine man spread a blanket on the ground, and Winnemucca laid Josie gently down on it and stepped back, letting the medicine man take over. Ben grabbed Pip’s collar to hold him back.

The group working on the clinic wandered over to stare as Ben Cartwright allowed an Indian to carry his niece out of the house and lay her next to a fire in the middle of his front yard. As the medicine man began humming, then singing, in Paiute, Amos Crawford leaned over to Reverend Lovejoy in rage.

“Ain’t you gonna stop this heathen display?”

Reverend Lovejoy shook his head and grabbed hold of Little Joe’s and Simon’s arms to keep them from rushing to Josie. “The Lord often chooses unusual messengers. It is not for us to judge. Besides, at this point, I can’t see that it will do Josie any harm.”

Simon watched silently, tears streaming from his brown eyes. Even from this distance he could see how frail and weak Josie had become. Sally took Simon’s hand, and Patience took Little Joe’s, and the four friends stood and watched as the medicine man tended to Josie.

Winnemucca and the two warriors joined the medicine man in his singing, and the raw emotion in their voices brought tears to the eyes of everyone watching. Adam rubbed his eyes roughly with his sleeve as he kept his gaze fixed on Josie. The medicine man passed a smudge stick slowly back and forth a few inches above her body, and the scent of burning sagebrush filled the yard. The Indians gradually sped up the tempo of their singing, and their voices echoed off the house, barn, and bunkhouse. On the medicine man’s sixth or seventh pass with the smudge stick, as the singing reached a frenzied pitch, Josie’s eyes flew open. She arched her back violently and took in a sharp, gasping breath before collapsing back onto the blanket and lying still. Fearing the worst, Adam let out a stifled sob and lurched forward, but Hoss held him back.

“She’s okay,” he reassured his older brother. “Look.”

The medicine man grabbed a small pot of tea from next to the fire and poured it slowly into Josie’s mouth while Winnemucca held up her head. She sputtered and choked at first, but the old man gently rubbed her throat to help her swallow, and she drank the entire pot. When she finished the tea, the medicine man approached the Cartwrights, who were still standing a few paces away, watching in anxious silence. The wrinkled old man paced back and forth in front of Ben, Hoss, and Adam several times, studying each of them carefully. He glanced over his shoulder at Little Joe, who was still restrained by the Reverend Lovejoy near the barn but shook his head and returned his attention to the men in front of him. He paused for a long moment in front of Ben, but then returned to Adam and nodded. He put his hands on Adam’s shoulders, stared into his eyes, and spoke rapidly to him in Paiute. Adam smiled awkwardly. He had no idea what the old man was saying, but it seemed important to pay rapt attention nonetheless.

When the medicine man finished speaking, he turned back toward the fire and gestured to Winnemucca. The chief lifted Josie from the blanket and carried her to Adam. Josie’s eyes were closed, and she was sleeping again. Winnemucca handed her to Adam, who cradled her against his chest. Her condition appeared unchanged from the past several days, and he was relieved that at least the Indian ritual seemed to have done her no harm.

Then Josie sighed and opened her eyes. “Hey Cousin-Cousin,” she muttered before closing her eyes, nuzzling against his chest, and falling asleep again.

Adam was so surprised he nearly dropped her. Josie hadn’t had a lucid moment in more than three days. He looked up at Winnemucca with wide, startled eyes.

The chief’s eyes smiled at him with little crinkles at the outside corners. “My medicine man says that your spirit ties hers to this world,” he said, “as hers has tied yours here in the past.” Adam had a brief vision of launching himself at Peter Kane. “Stay close to her, and her fever will break tonight.”

Adam dared not hope, but a little flicker lit his eyes regardless. He thanked Winnemucca and carried Josie back to her bedroom as Ben and Hoss thanked the Paiutes and saw them off. Adam laid Josie in her bed and tucked the covers in around her. Was she sleeping more peacefully than before, or was it just wishful thinking? He couldn’t tell. In any event, he obeyed the medicine man’s orders to stay close. That evening, Hop Sing brought up Adam’s supper on a tray so he didn’t have to leave Josie’s bedside. Ever hopeful, the cook also brought some broth for Josie, though they hadn’t been able to get her to eat anything for more than a day. Ben propped her up while Adam spooned the broth carefully into her mouth, and both men were encouraged when they were able to get nearly half the bowlful into her.

Unable to sleep, Adam sat next to Josie on her bed, stretched out his legs, and leaned against the headboard. He’d tried to keep a little distance between them the past several nights—her fever was so high he hadn’t wanted his body to make her warmer—but tonight, he pulled her into his arms and laid her head on his chest. Somehow, he knew something decisive was going to happen tonight, one way or the other.

He lost track of how long he sat with her. Hoss relieved Ben at some point, but Adam still sat wide awake, stroking Josie’s limp hair. He grew angry as Josie’s fever continued to rage and cursed himself for hoping that Winnemucca had been right about her fever breaking. Around one a.m., Josie’s fever began to rise even further. This was it. They were losing her. His stomach clenched in wrenching knots and tears coursed down his face as he futilely mopped Josie’s brow and hummed “Amazing Grace” to her as he had done when she was a child.

Hoss sat silently in the armchair, his head in his hands, as he prayed more fervently than he had ever prayed in his life. He thought he should wake Pa, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that Josie was dying.

But shortly before 3 a.m., Josie began to sweat.

At first Adam thought her hair was damp from his frantic mopping of her forehead, but a few minutes later, he realized that her whole body was sweating and dampening her nightgown. By a quarter after three, her perspiration had drenched her entire nightgown and was seeping its way through Adam’s shirt. He finally allowed himself to speak the words he thought he would never get to say.

“Hoss!” he barked, interrupting Hoss’s twenty-second round of the Lord’s Prayer. “I think her fever’s breaking!”

Hoss’s tear-stained face snapped up and he reached a trembling hand out to graze Josie’s cheek. “I think you’re right,” he said disbelievingly. He leapt from his chair with more agility than a man his size should have possessed and thundered across the hall to Ben’s bedroom.

“Pa!” he shouted. “Pa, Josie’s fever’s breakin’!”

Ben charged out of his room without bothering to put on his dressing gown or slippers. He dashed to Josie’s bedside and laid his hand on her forehead.

“I don’t believe it,” he said. “The fever’s going down. Get some more water! She’s going to be thirsty.” Hop Sing, who had been alerted by Hoss’s shouting and rushed to Josie’s bedroom, dashed out of the room again and returned in short order with a pitcher full of water in one hand and a glass in the other. He filled the glass and handed it to Adam.

Adam propped Josie up and held the glass to her lips.

“Come on, Little Sister,” he urged. “Drink some water.” He poured a bit into Josie’s mouth. She swallowed it quickly and groped weakly for the glass.

“More,” she whispered.

Adam obliged. Before long, Josie had polished off the entire glass of water. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him. It took her eyes a moment to focus, but when they did, they were clear for the first time in a week. She smiled wanly.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Adam said, choking on his tears.

“Hey yourself,” Josie whispered back.

Wiping his eyes, Ben sat on the edge of the bed next to Josie and took her hand in both of his.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asked.

Josie turned her head slowly toward him. “Like I’ve been trampled by every steer on the Ponderosa,” she groaned.

The four men laughed until Josie clutched her head and groaned again.

“Sorry,” Ben said in a stage whisper as he, his cook, and his two oldest sons stifled their laughter.

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“Almost nine days,” Adam said, brushing a sweaty lock of hair off Josie’s cheek.

Josie’s eyes went wide. “Holy smoke,” she whispered. Then a shiver coursed through her body. “I’m cold.”

Hoss laid a hand on Josie’s wet nightgown sleeve. “Course you are. You’re soaked through with sweat. The sheets are, too.”

“Adam is, too,” Adam said, looking down at his shirt. It was mottled with large dark patches that clung to his skin.

“Sorry,” Josie apologized. Her voice was so weak, but Adam had never heard anything so beautiful.

“Not at all,” he said and kissed her forehead. He extricated himself from behind Josie and laid her gently on her pillows so he could stand up.

“Adam, Hoss,” Ben said, “get Josie into a dry nightgown. Hop Sing and I will change these sheets.

Adam and Hoss shared an awkward glance. “Uh, P- Pa,” Hoss stammered, blushing deeply.

Ben looked at his middle son impatiently. “I’m sure Josie appreciates your sense of modesty, Hoss, but we have no other options right now. Please just help your cousin.”

Hoss sighed but trudged over to Josie’s chest of drawers. After much embarrassing rummaging in which he first extracted a pair of knickers and then a corset, he at last found a clean nightgown. “All right, you two,” he said to Adam and Josie. “Let’s see if we can all get through this with our dignity intact.”

Adam lifted Josie out of bed and carried her to Hoss on the other side of the room. The two brothers stared at each other, Adam holding Josie, and Hoss holding the dry nightgown. They looked to Josie for advice, but she had closed her eyes again and was dozing in Adam’s arms.

“Now what?” Adam asked.

“Uh,” Hoss hesitated, sizing up the situation. His brow wrinkled as he thought hard. At last he said, “Okay, Adam, you stand there and hold Josie up on her feet. Don’t let go, though. We don’t want her takin’ a fall. And I’ll, uh, I’ll swap out her nightgown real quick-like.” Hoss’s face was so dark red by this point that Adam was afraid his brother’s head might burst at the slightest touch, like a rotten tomato.

“Ok,” Adam agreed. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

“Go!”

When Adam set Josie on her feet, he discovered she was so weak he had to hold onto her more tightly than he’d planned. This complicated matters when Hoss tried to pull her nightgown over her head and got it tangled up in Adam’s arms. After much finagling and a bit of arguing, they succeeded in getting the wet nightgown off Josie and the dry one on without either of the brothers getting much more embarrassed than they already were. Josie, for her part, was still mostly asleep and only muttered a half-hearted, “Oh, shut up” when Adam’s and Hoss’s voices grew too loud for her still-throbbing head. Despite his best efforts to avert his eyes, Adam caught sight of Josie’s ribs protruding sharply through her skin, which was still covered in the angry, red rash. He cringed. He didn’t need a reminder of how very close they’d come to losing her.

Ben and Hop Sing finished changing the sheets before Hoss and Adam finished swapping nightgowns, so as soon as Josie was safely ensconced in her dry nightgown, Adam laid her back down in bed and covered her up with the fresh blankets.

“Better?” he asked.

“Mmhmm,” Josie murmured as she nestled deeper under the covers.

Hop Sing left to heat some broth, and he brought it up a few minutes later. Adam held Josie up so she could drink it, and he thought he might weep for joy when she finished the entire bowl. Though the sun was now rising, Ben sent Hoss to bed—an order he gladly obeyed. No one had gotten much sleep while Josie had been ill, and now that it seemed the worst of the danger had passed, Hoss felt like he could sleep for days.

Ben watched as Adam lowered Josie onto her pillows, rested his hand on her cooling forehead, and smiled. “I suppose there’s no sense in trying to send you out,” he said.

Still smiling, Adam looked over at his father. “No. But you and Hop Sing should get some sleep.”

Ben grunted. “Yeah. But first I better go downstairs and give everyone the good news.”

“Everyone?”

“Didn’t you notice? Half of Virginia City is camped in our front yard.”

Adam crossed to the window and looked out. Sure enough, at least a dozen people, including Little Joe, Simon, Ross, Amos Crawford, Patience Lovejoy, and Sally Cass were wrapped up in bedrolls all over the front yard. A fresh batch of tears rose to his eyes as he took in the sight of their friends and neighbors who had been keeping vigil with them all through that long, terrible night.

“They’ve been leaving gifts on the porch, too,” Ben said. “The downstairs guestroom is full of them.”

Adam marveled again at the generosity of the people of Virginia City. “We’ll have to have a party to thank everyone once Josie’s feeling better.”

“That’s a good idea, son.” Ben turned to go.

“Pa?”

Ben turned back. “Yes?”

“Pa, I… I, uh…” Few times in his life had Adam Cartwright been at a loss for words, but this morning he was flummoxed.

Ben crossed the room. “It’s all right, Adam. I don’t know what I would have done, either, if we’d lost her. I’m not sure that’s a loss I could bear.” He pulled Adam into an embrace, and father and son stood there for several long moments, clinging to each other and thanking God that their family was still whole.

When Ben finally stepped back, he patted Adam’s shoulder. “You get some sleep, too,” he said and left the room.

Adam heard his father go downstairs and open the front door. He didn’t pick up what words Ben said to the small crowd in the yard, but he clearly heard the loud cheer that erupted. He peered out the window once more to see Simon pounce onto Little Joe just as Joe collapsed in a sobbing heap on the ground. Simon tumbled into the dirt and sat there dazed for a moment until Ross helped him up. Sally and Patience had grabbed one another’s hands, spun around in a few fast circles, and then fell, weeping, into each other’s arms. After surveying the whole scene, Adam found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Simon, who was now running around the yard hugging everyone he could get hold of. Watching the young man’s exhilaration, Adam realized how deeply Simon cared for Josie and for a brief instant thought perhaps he had been too hard on him. Then he glanced down at his sleeping cousin and with a small chuckle thought, “No, perhaps not.”

He wanted to keep watching the celebration, but a wave a fatigue swept over him, and he decided to give in to it. Smiling, he lay down next to Josie, draped his arm around her shoulders, and slept until noon.

He awoke when Dr. Martin came in. The physician’s eyes welled up as he laid his hand on Josie’s forehead and announced that she was past the worst of the danger.

“There is, of course, always a small possibility of relapse,” he cautioned the family, “but I wouldn’t worry yourselves too much. It will take some time for her to regain her strength, but you should see small improvements every day.”

“When will you lift the quarantine?” Ben asked.

“End of tomorrow,” Josie said, her voice still hoarse.

Dr. Martin grinned. “That’s right. So long as your fever doesn’t come back, we’ll lift the quarantine tomorrow evening. It’s good to have you back, Josie,” he said as he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“Thanks,” Josie said, returning his smile. “It’s good to be back.”

Dr. Martin turned to Ben. “Feed her,” he instructed, and then he turned back to Josie. “Eat and sleep. That’s your job for the next couple weeks. I’ll check on you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you, Paul,” Ben said and walked the doctor out.

Instead of plain broth, Hop Sing brought Josie some of his famous chicken dumpling soup, which she was more than happy to eat. She felt stronger after sleeping so well, but she was still too weak to sit up and eat unassisted, so Adam helped her to sit up and steadied her hand while she spooned soup into her mouth. After about half the bowl, however, even this small effort exhausted her, so Adam spoon-fed her the rest of the soup. With her tummy now full of the hot soup, Josie was sleepy again, so she lay down and fell back to sleep.

Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Hop Sing stood and watched her sleep for a few minutes, basking in their good fortune. “We’re going to have a mob on our hands when we open that front door tomorrow,” Adam said.

“Good,” Ben said. “Good.”

---

Josie spent the next twenty-four hours eating and sleeping, just as Dr. Martin had ordered. Adam continued to stick to her like glue, helping her eat and watching over her while she slept. Dr. Martin returned late the next afternoon and joyfully lifted the quarantine on the house. As he stepped out the front door to return home, Little Joe, Simon, Patience, and Sally charged the porch. Hoss, who had walked the doctor out, used his broad frame to block the door and prevent the gang from rushing to Josie’s room all at once. Four disappointed faces looked up at him.

“Josie’s still awfully weak. She can’t have you all getting her riled up just yet. Joe, you come on in. You three wait out here.” Hoss gestured to Simon, Patience, and Sally. Joe slipped past his brother and sprinted up Josie’s bedroom.

“Josie!” he cried as he burst into the room and slammed into Ben, nearly knocking the older man to the floor. Adam caught Pa’s arm and steadied him before. Ben couldn’t be annoyed. He, too, felt like running through the house, shouting for joy. If only he weren’t so tired.

Josie was propped in a half-seated position in her bed. Her face split into a huge grin when Little Joe stormed her bedroom. Joe drew up short several paces from Josie’s bed. He understood she’d been deathly ill, but he still wasn’t ready for how gaunt and pale she’d become in the ten days since he’d last seen her up close. His stomach clenched, and tears filled both cousins’ eyes as Josie reached her arms out to him. He flew across the room, dropped onto the side of the bed, and hugged her like he would never let go.

“Hey, Joe,” Josie whispered. “Stay out of trouble while I was away?”

Little Joe laughed through his tears. “More or less.” He sat back and let Josie relax against her pillows. “When Ross and Simon found me and said you were sick, I rushed home, and then I wasn’t allowed in. It was the worst feeling of my whole life.”

Josie perked up a little. “Simon found you? He was here?”

Little Joe ran a hand through his hair. “He’s been here the whole time. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t kept me company.”

“Is he still here?”

“Yeah, he’s outside.” Little Joe was getting annoyed with all of Josie’s questions about Simon. He was the one who had been shut out of his own house and cut off from his family for the past fortnight.

“Patience and Sally are out there, too,” Ben chimed in. “Along with most of Virginia City. You’ve had a lot of people pulling for you.”

Josie’s eyes filled with tears again, and Adam decided she’d had enough visitors for a while. He told Little Joe to let Josie rest and both him and Ben out of the room. He turned to order Hoss out as well, but the bigger man grabbed his arm.

“No, Older Brother,” he said. “You go on out, too. Lie down in your own bed and get a couple hours’ proper rest before supper. I’ll keep an eye on lil’ ol’ Josie here.”

Adam tried to protest, but Hoss gripped his shoulders and forced him backward out of the room. Digging his heels into the floor did no good; he couldn’t overpower Hoss. Reluctantly, he slunk to his room, pulled off his boots, and stretched out on his bed. He had to admit, it did feel good to be back in his own bed. He picked up the book he’d abandoned nearly two weeks ago and began to read. He lasted only a page and a half before he fell asleep, the book splayed open across his chest.

A few minutes later, Hoss poked his head in Adam’s room and smiled when he saw his older brother sleeping. He closed the door quietly and crept down the hallway, cringing when he forgot to sidestep the creaky floorboard. He paused, listening intently for any sound coming from Adam’s room. Hearing none, he continued down the stairs and into the living room. Ben was sitting in his armchair near the fire and talking with Little Joe, who was on the settee. Ben was telling Joe about the past week and a half, while Joe filled him in on the progress that he, Ross, Simon, and the others had made on Josie’s clinic.

“I think we’ll have it finished in a couple more days,” he said.

“That’s wonderful, Joe!” Ben said. “Josie will be so pleased.” He saw Hoss sneaking through the room toward the front door and looked at him suspiciously. “Hoss? What are you doing?”

“Well, I was thinkin’,” Hoss said, “Josie seemed awfully interested in seein’ Simon. Since Adam’s asleep, I thought it might be a good time to bring him in. Just for a few minutes, mind you. I don’t want to tucker Josie out.”

Ben chuckled. “I think that’s a splendid idea.” Unlike his eldest son, Ben had no qualms about Simon’s interest in Josie. The Crofts were a lovely family, and Josie would be hard-pressed to find a finer young man than Simon. “But only for a few minutes. Josie needs her rest.”

“Yessir.” Hoss strode to the front door and flung it open. He drew a breath to holler for Simon and then realized the young man was still on the porch, along with Patience and Sally. “Oh, hey, Simon,” he said. “You can come in and see Josie for a minute if you like.”

Simon’s face lit up so brightly Hoss almost went blind.

“Would I!” Simon exclaimed. Hoss grinned and was about to let him in when he saw the deep disappointment etched on Patience’s and Sally’s faces.

“Sorry ladies,” he said. “If you don’t mind stickin’ around, you might be able to come up and see her after supper.” The young women brightened a bit at this, and Hoss caught himself staring at the way Patience’s freckled nose wrinkled when she smiled. She noticed and smiled shyly at him. Embarrassed, Hoss went crimson, sputtered a polite farewell, and ushered Simon inside.

Simon had never been on the second floor of the house, so Hoss led him upstairs and down the hall, issuing a whispered warning about the creaky floorboard outside Adam’s door. He opened Josie’s door a few inches and stuck in his head. Josie was dozing, but she opened her eyes when she heard the door.

“Hey, Josie,” Hoss said softly. “Got someone here who’s pretty excited to see you.” He stepped aside and let Simon into the room.

“Hey there, Josie,” Simon said, suddenly shy.

Josie was both thrilled and horrified. Part of her thought that Simon stepping into her room was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, but another part panicked because she was wearing nothing but a nightgown, she hadn’t washed her hair in two weeks, and her face was still covered in a blotchy, red rash. After a few brief seconds that felt like an eternity, the first part won out, and she beamed at him.

“Simon!” she exclaimed just before breaking out into a fit of coughing.

Alarmed, Simon ran the last few strides to Josie’s bedside and handed her a glass of water from her nightstand. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Josie nodded as she sipped her water. “Sorry,” she wheezed when the coughing settled. “Stupid cough. It can last for a couple weeks after a patient’s fever breaks.” She dropped her head back onto her pillow.

Simon laughed and sat in the armchair next to the bed. “Always a doctor, even when it’s you who’s sick.”

Josie smirked. “Nasty habit of mine.”

Behind them, Hoss slipped out of the room.

“I was so worried about you, Josie,” Simon said as he took her left hand in both of his. “I can’t even begin to-” he broke off as a huge lump caught in his throat.

“It’s okay,” Josie said, her hoarse voice still barely louder than a whisper. “I’m all right. Didn’t I tell you we Cartwrights are a tough bunch?”

Simon grinned. “I seem to remember you saying something like that. And I also seem to remember standing under a bit of mistletoe shortly thereafter.” He winked.

Now Josie smiled. “And then you nearly died when you thought Adam was behind you.”

Simon laughed. “I’ve never been so glad to see Hoss in my whole life!” Josie giggled, but this elicited more coughing, so Simon handed her another glass of water and waited for her coughing to ease. “Funny you mention Adam, though,” he said, “because he and I had a little chat a while back.”

Josie raised one eyebrow, and Simon was momentarily unnerved. It was the same expression Adam made when someone had piqued his interest and he was waiting for them to continue.

“I won’t bore you with all the details,” Simon continued, leaving out the bits where Adam had threatened to kill him, “but it came down to him being all right with it if I were to court you.”

Josie’s other eyebrow shot up. “Adam said that?”

Simon nodded.

“Adam Cartwright?”

Simon nodded again.

“My Adam?”

Simon chuckled. “Yes!”

“How presumptuous of him,” Josie said with as much indignation as her weakened state let her muster. “I don’t need his permission to go courting.”

“Maybe you don’t, but I do. I’d like to live forty or fifty more years, thank you very much.”

Josie giggled. “Good point.”

“So, you’d like to then?” Simon asked quietly, casting his gaze downward and studying the bedspread.

“Like to what?”

Simon rolled his eyes. For such an intelligent woman, Dr. Josephine Cartwright could be awfully thick. “Go courtin’ with me.”

Josie silently cursed herself for her stupidity and was grateful the rash hid how deeply she was blushing. “Well,” she said, recovering her wits, “maybe in a few weeks. I’ve been a little under the weather.” She smiled coyly, and Simon grinned back.

“All right,” he said. “But I’m holdin’ you to that, so you rest up.” He kissed her cheek and slipped out of the room.

---

Josie was too tired for more visitors after supper that evening, but Patience and Sally clearly were not going to leave the Ponderosa until they had seen her. Ben hated to see them sleep in the front yard, so he invited them to spend the night in the downstairs guestroom. Adam had planned to spend one more night with Josie, but when he made his way to her bedroom around nine p.m., he found Little Joe already snuggled up next to her, his bare toes sticking out from under the bedspread. Adam smiled.

“All right, little buddy,” he whispered. “You keep an eye on her for me.” He pulled the blankets over Joe’s toes and quietly returned to his own bedroom.

Patience and Sally spent a comfortable, though crowded, night in the Cartwrights’ guestroom, which was still packed with the offerings of the people of Virginia City. After breakfast the next morning, they were finally admitted to Josie’s bedroom, where they both burst into tears at the sight of their friend. Josie’s rash was beginning to fade, but this only revealed how ashen she was. Though she was able to eat a little solid food again, it would take time for her to regain the weight she had lost, so her joints still stuck out sharply from her skin. Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe watched as the three friends exchanged several rounds of tearful hugs, and they understood how scared Patience and Sally must have been that they were going to lose Josie like they had lost Margaret. The men left the room so the girls could chat for a while, but they were still worried about exhausting Josie, so after ten minutes, Ben and Hoss wandered back upstairs and told Sally and Patience they needed to let Josie rest.

“We can stick around if you need help with anything, Mr. Cartwright,” Sally offered. “If you or the boys or Hop Sing needs a rest.”

“Thank you, Sally, but I think we’re all right. Now that Little Joe’s home and Josie no longer needs round-the-clock care, things have settled down considerably,” Ben said.

“Actually,” Josie spoke up, her voice a little stronger than it had been yesterday, “I would really love a bath.”

Patience and Sally brightened.

“Let’s take care of that!” Patience said. She unintentionally caught Hoss’s eye, blushed, and turned back toward Josie.

Josie managed to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the bed. Hoss rushed to help, but she waved him away. She stood halfway up, but then was hit by a rush of dizziness and dropped back onto the bed. Ben smiled at the frustration he saw in her eyes. Jacob’s little girl was a fighter.

“It ain’t worth it, Josie,” Patience said. She stepped around Hoss, swept one arm under Josie’s knees and the other behind her shoulders, and lifted her as easily as if she weighed no more than a pillow.

Hoss’s jaw dropped. Patience was a little taller than Josie and had broader shoulders, but she wasn’t what anyone would call a large girl. He stared as Patience carried Josie from the room, her auburn hair swinging sassily behind her.

Ben was impressed too. “I didn’t realize Patience was so strong,” he said.

“Me neither,” Hoss said, his blue eyes sparkling like Lake Tahoe at dawn. “But that’s my kinda gal.”

---

Across the hall in the washroom, Sally helped Josie out of her nightgown while Patience marveled at the Cartwrights’ indoor plumbing.

“This is incredible!” she said as she pumped hot water into the bathtub. “Do you think Adam could put one of these in my house?”

“I bet he could,” Sally said before Josie could even open her mouth. “He’s real smart.” She smiled dreamily.

“Ew, stop that,” Josie said as Patience and Sally helped her into the steaming water. “That’s my brother you’re getting all moony-eyed over.” She groaned contentedly as the hot water relaxed her aching body.

“Sorry,” Sally said. “He’s just very good-looking is all.”

“Of course he is,” Josie said, leaning her head against the back of the tub and closing her eyes. “He’s related to me.”

All three young ladies giggled. “That explains Little Joe, then, too,” Sally said.

Josie opened one eye and studied Sally in amusement. “Which one is it, Sally? Adam or Little Joe? You could talk me into letting you have one, but not both.” The girls giggled again. “Besides,” she continued as she closed her eye, “you’d just be making the same mistake all the other girls do.”

“Oh?” Sally asked as she handed Patience a bar of soap.

“They all go straight for either Adam or Joe,” Josie said. “Never stop to realize that Hoss is the real catch.”

Patience squeaked and dropped the soap, which splashed into the tub. Josie fished it out and handed it back to her, gallantly ignoring her friend’s embarrassed blush.

Sally looked askance at Patience but ignored her reaction, too. “Go on,” she said.

Josie leaned forward against her knees so Patience could scrub her back and said “Little Joe can’t settle on one thing. He’s like a hummingbird, always flitting around from idea to idea. He’s got a big heart, but he’s entirely ruled by it. He acts solely on emotion without thinking things through. It’ll be years before he settles down.”

“And Adam?” Sally asked.

“Adam’s exactly the opposite. He’s smart, sure, but he lives his whole life in his head, always doing the logical, practical thing, even if it makes him unhappy.” She paused to dunk her head. “He’s not emotionless—he feels things as much as everyone else. He just needs to trust those feelings now and again.”

“So, what about Hoss, then?” Patience asked casually as she lathered up Josie’s long hair.

Josie bit back a grin. “Hoss is the perfect blend of the other two. He’s got a big heart and loves to laugh, but he’s whip-smart and knows when to listen to his head. And he’s devoted. Any woman who ends up with him will be treated like a queen for the rest of her life.” Josie and Sally surreptitiously shot each other amused smirks as Patience glowed.

“Let’s get this soap out of your hair,” Patience said. She grabbed a cup and began rinsing Josie’s hair.

Once Josie was rinsed, Patience and Sally each took an arm and helped her from the bathtub. She shivered as the cool air hit her wet skin, but Sally quickly wrapped her up in a large, fluffy towel. They dried her off, helped her into a pair of drawers, and slipped a fresh nightgown over her head. Then Patience sat her in a chair they had dragged in and began to comb her hair.

“I’m going to leave it loose to dry,” she said. “Is that okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Josie said absently. She’d never realized how much energy it took to carry on a conversation, and she felt like she could fall asleep sitting up in the chair, right there in the middle of the washroom.

Sally and Patience realized that Josie was fading, so they hurried up combing her hair and putting her back into bed. Just before Josie drifted off, she clasped their hands in hers.

“Thank you for being here for me,” she said sincerely, her hazel eyes welling up.

“Don’t mention it,” Sally replied, kissing Josie’s forehead. “We girls have to stick together.”

“Exactly,” Patience agreed, also bending down to softly graze Josie’s forehead with her lips. Before Patience rose, Josie pulled her in a little closer.

“Hoss really likes chocolate cookies,” she whispered into her friend’s ear.

“Why would I need to know that?” Patience asked with a wry smile. The two girls giggled, and Patience slipped out of the room behind Sally, leaving Josie to sleep.

---

Josie spent the next week in bed. The typhus had so weakened her that it was three days before she was even able to walk from her bedroom to the washroom without help. For the most part, the men returned to their springtime work, but one of them was always home in case she needed anything. Hop Sing had returned to his usual chores as well, and the Cartwrights didn’t want to saddle him with Josie’s care too.

Josie didn’t mind so much when Little Joe stayed home with her. He kept out of her hair and popped in only every couple hours or so to see if he could get her anything. The other three, however, were obnoxious. Ben, Hoss, and Adam, especially, hovered over her as if expecting her to break out in a raging fever again at any moment. They were forever poking into her room and feeling her forehead and urging her to drink more water and eat a few more bites of food. Adam spent most of his time at home sitting in the armchair next to Josie’s bed and peering at her over the top of the book he was reading. Every time Josie coughed, reached for her water glass, or even shifted position, he sprang from his chair to “help.” Josie had a brief chuckle when Adam handed her the old, worn copy of Frankenstein to keep her entertained, but this did little to assuage the deep annoyance at her uncle and cousins that was brewing within her. Even on the days Little Joe stayed home, the other three made a beeline for Josie’s room as soon as they came home and fussed over her until she wanted to scream.

By the end of that week, she’d had enough.

Friday was Little Joe’s day to stay home, and he spent most of the day working on the clinic, though he didn’t tell Josie that. Josie used the time alone to hatch a little plan, and when Hop Sing delivered her lunch, she enlisted his help.

That evening, when Ben, Adam, and Hoss returned from finishing the spring roundup and branding, Adam went straight up to Josie’s bedroom as he had done every day. Today, however, a surprise waited for him at the end of the hall. Sitting in a chair in front of Josie’s bedroom door and looking distinctly uncomfortable was their young ranch hand Jimmy.

Adam frowned. “What are you doing up here?”

“Oh, hey, Adam,” Jimmy said as he shifted in his seat. “Dr. Cartwright asked me to sit out here.”

“Oooookay,” Adam said slowly. He hoped Josie’s fever hadn’t returned and addled her brain. He reached for the door latch, but Jimmy threw an arm in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking like he was about to cry, “but I can’t let you do that.”

Adam’s eyebrow shot up so high it nearly hit the ceiling. “Excuse me?”

Jimmy’s face crumpled under Adam’s withering glare. “I can’t let you go in,” he nearly sobbed. “Dr. Cartwright said I wasn’t to let anyone in except Hop Sing and Little Joe.”

“And Dr. Cartwright is paying your salary now, is she?”

“No, but…”

“That’s right! So let. Me. In.” Adam said these last four words through gritted teeth as he towered over the smaller man.

“No,” Jimmy squeaked.

Adam was about to begin shouting in a very Ben Cartwright-like way when the patriarch himself swept down the hallway. “What is going on up here?” he demanded.

“Jimmy has decided he doesn’t like working for us very much,” Adam said, seething.

Ben cut his sharp gaze to his young hand, who quailed under his glare. “Well?”

“Dr. Cartwright offered me twenty dollars to sit here and not let anyone but Hop Sing and Little Joe into her room,” he said in a trembling voice.

“Oh, she did, did she?” Ben growled. “And what’s to stop us from pushing past you and going in anyway?” He and Adam drew themselves up to their full heights and puffed out their chests. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they created a solid, intimidating wall of Cartwright.

Jimmy reached beneath his chair and withdrew a small brown bottle and a rag. “She gave me this and told me not to be afraid to use it,” he said forlornly.

Ben exploded in laughter as he recognized Josie’s bottle of chloroform. Adam was still furious, but Ben slapped him on the back and told him to lighten up. “Josie must be feeling better,” Ben said, wiping tears from his eyes.

Pa’s mirth rubbing off on him, Adam smiled, too. “I suppose we have been a little overbearing,” he admitted.

The lightened mood brought Jimmy no relief. “I’m fired, aren’t I?” he asked miserably.

Ben laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “No, Jimmy, you’re not fired. But the next time Dr. Cartwright tries to hire you, speak to me before agreeing, all right?”

Jimmy nodded. “Yes, sir!”

“Good man,” Ben said. “Now go on out to the bunkhouse and get your supper. I promise we’ll leave Dr. Cartwright be.”

Jimmy scampered off, and still laughing, Ben led Adam downstairs to the supper table.

Josie enjoyed her quiet evening, and the following morning, she graciously readmitted Adam, Hoss, and Ben to her room after eliciting promises from each of them that they would stop smothering her. Little Joe bounded into the room just then, pulled Adam aside, and whispered something into his ear. Adam broke into a broad grin, slapped Little Joe on the back, and turned to Josie.

“Hey, Josie, how would you like to get out of your bedroom for a bit?”

Josie’s face lit up. “Would I! I’m so sick of these four walls I could cry.”

Adam smiled. Josie was still far too thin, but she was regaining a bit of the glow in her cheeks. Walking farther than the washroom and back was still tiring, but Dr. Martin had checked on her a couple days ago and was pleased with her progress, assuring the Cartwrights that Josie’s strength would continue to return, albeit slowly.

“It can take a month after the fever breaks to make a full recovery from typhus,” he said.

Josie was so excited to get out of her bedroom that she didn’t even ask Adam where they were going. She rose slowly from her bed and rested one hand on Pip for support while Hoss helped her into her dressing gown and, oddly, her boots instead of her slippers. She insisted on walking down the hallway unassisted and managed quite well until she had to pause at the top of the stairs to catch her breath.

“I think that’s enough exertion for one morning,” Adam said and swept her into his arms. Josie started to protest, but she decided she should be grateful to be seeing the first floor again and shut her mouth. Adam set her back on her feet when they reached the sideboard next to the front door and bundled her into her heavy winter coat. April was warming up fast, but he wasn’t about to risk her catching a chill. He took her hand and led her onto the porch, where Josie took her first breath of fresh air in more than three weeks.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as good as this sunshine on my face,” she sighed, tilting her head up to catch more of the morning rays. “Thanks for bringing me out here.” She started for the rocking chair, thinking she would sit and bask in the sunshine for a little while before going back to bed, but Ben came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

“This isn’t it,” he said.

“No?”

“Nope,” Adam said. “While you were sick, Little Joe and a few friends were mighty busy. Come on.” He led her off the porch and into the yard, but Josie was out of breath before they were halfway to the barn, so Adam picked her up again and walked past the barn and down the road toward Virginia City.

After a minute or so, she said, “You know, if you want to go into town, it would be faster to take the horses.”

Adam just smiled and kept walking with Pip, Ben, and Hoss following closely behind. Little Joe was all over the place—one moment bounding along behind them, the next dancing impatiently several paces ahead.

About a quarter mile beyond the barn, they rounded a tree-lined curve in the road, and Josie got her big surprise. There in front of her, set into a little copse of pine trees, stood her completed clinic. It looked just as Adam had sketched it: a simple frame building of about 800 square feet with a wraparound porch. It had four large windows in front, one on each side, and another four in the back. And on the façade above the front door was a huge new sign declaring “Dr. Josephine Cartwright, MD.” Josie took it all in and burst into tears. She turned her face and sobbed into the front of Adam’s tan jacket.

“You like it?” he asked.

Josie nodded. “It’s beautiful!” she said with a little hiccup that threatened to bring on a round of coughing. She took a deep breath to stifle it and looked back at her new clinic. “I can’t believe you built this so fast.”

“I didn’t,” Adam admitted. “I was quarantined in the house with you. Credit goes to Little Joe, Simon, Ross, and a number of Virginia City’s other good men.”

Josie turned wide eyes to Little Joe, who was suddenly bashful and kicked at a clod of dirt. “Had to do somethin’,” he mumbled. “Couldn’t just stand around waiting. I can’t really take credit either, though. It was Simon’s idea to keep working on it while you were sick.”

“Really?” Josie asked.

“Yeah. Even when you got real bad, he was so certain you were gonna get better. He said we just had to have it finished by the time you came back around.”

Josie wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her coat. “Can we go inside?” she asked timidly.

“Absolutely,” Adam said, setting Josie on her feet and offering her his arm. “I’m afraid there isn’t any furniture yet, but you can start thinking about where you’d like to put things.”

She took his arm and walked slowly toward the clinic and up the two steps onto the porch. When they reached the front door, Adam dug into his pocket, pulled out a shiny brass key, and handed it to her. She inserted the key in the lock and turned it. When she heard the tumbler slide into place, she paused and took a deep breath, then pushed the door open.

Pip shoved rudely past Josie and ran around the building, sniffing. The first thing Josie noticed was the fresh, clean scent of newly milled ponderosa pine. She inhaled deeply and hoped the scent would never fade. The building was divided into four rooms. The entry room would be her office and waiting room. The bare walls were painted a calming shade of pale blue.

“I’ve ordered a gold frame for your medical school diploma,” Adam said. “I thought we could hang it up behind your desk.”

“When I get a desk,” Josie said, smiling at the empty room.

“I’ve got a man working on that,” Adam replied, winking at Little Joe. Simon Croft’s carpentry skills were proving handier than Adam had ever imagined. “He’ll be making some shelves, too, so you can keep your medical books handy, and a locking cabinet for your supplies.” He pointed to a small ladder set into the back wall behind where Josie’s desk would go. “That leads up to your loft. It gives you some extra storage space, and we’ll put a cot up there in case you need to sleep out here to tend to a patient.”

Adam led her to a door near the loft ladder and opened it. Josie peered into a small kitchen. It wasn’t extensive—just a few shelves, a sink with a water pump, and a little wood-burning stove—but it would keep the building warm and let her heat water and cook small meals. A door near the stove led outside to the porch, where Little Joe and his helpers had already stacked a pile of firewood.

“I’m afraid it’s not as fancy as the plumbing we have in the house,” Adam said. “But Hoss has agreed to build you an outhouse.”

“I have?” Hoss asked as he stepped into the kitchen behind Adam and Josie.

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” Adam said, grinning at him. “You said there’s nothing you like better than digging holes.”

“That don’t sound like me,” Hoss grumbled, resolving to inconvenience his older brother at his first opportunity.

Adam led the entourage back into the office, showing Josie that off to both the left and right were doors that led into exam rooms. She liked that the office was between them. She could have patients in both rooms without having to worry about either of them overhearing the other’s private conversation. Adam took her hand and led her into one of the exam rooms. It was slightly larger than Josie’s office and had three windows, which would help provide light when she was examining patients and performing procedures. There were no curtains yet on the windows, but Little Joe had installed slatted blinds that she could open and close.

“You’ve got two exam tables coming,” Adam said, “plus two cots. One for each room in case you need to keep a patient for a few days.” He gestured around the empty room. “And if there’s anything else you need, just let me know.” He grinned.

“Thank you, Adam, it’s wonderful!” Josie exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

“Thank you, Joe,” Little Joe muttered in falsetto. “After all, you did most of the work.”

Josie giggled, let go of Adam, and wrapped Little Joe up in a big hug. “Thank you, Joe.”

“You should also thank Simon, Ross, Reverend Lovejoy, Henry, Isaiah Jenkins, and Amos Crawford,” Joe rattled off as he hugged Josie back. “They all helped. And Patience and Sally did the painting.”

“I will, just as soon as I see them,” Josie promised. Her excitement beginning to die down, she realized how exhausting the little tour had been and she leaned heavily against Joe. He scooped her up in his arms.

“Come on, partner,” he said. “Let’s get you back to bed.” Adam reached out to take Josie, but Little Joe waved him off and carried her all the way back to the house. She was nearly asleep in his arms by the time they got there, but she was awake enough to protest when he tried to take her upstairs.

“I’m so tired of my bedroom,” she said. “Let me lay on the settee for a while.”

Adam looked disapproving, but Little Joe cheerfully acquiesced and set her on the sofa.

“I’ll get her a blanket,” Adam said as Little Joe helped Josie out of her coat and boots and Ben kindled a small fire in the fireplace.

When Adam ran upstairs, Ben hollered after him, “We have blankets down here!”

“I know!” Adam’s reply drifted down the stairs.

Ben furrowed his brow, but when Adam reappeared on the stairs, he understood. Adam was carrying his mother’s quilt that Josie had given him two Christmases ago. He unfolded it and tucked it around her. She smiled.

“Thanks, Adam,” she said. Then, more quietly, “And thanks, Aunt Elizabeth.” She nestled under the quilt and fell asleep, still smiling.

Josie awoke a few hours later to the smell of Hop Sing’s famous venison stew, and her mouth instantly began to water. After having little appetite for the first few days after her fever broke, she was now ravenous nearly all the time. Hop Sing brought her a generous serving on a tray, and before digging in, she carefully folded her aunt’s quilt around her feet so she wouldn’t spill any stew on it. It was nice to be downstairs again. She felt more like herself than she had in weeks now that she was back in the center of the home’s activity. She was already halfway through her stew when Ben and the boys came in for lunch, and all four of them lit up at the sight of her sitting up on the settee and stuffing her face. The last of her rash had faded away, and though she was still rather pale, her returning strength was undeniable. She greeted each of them between mouthfuls of stew, then handed her tray to Hop Sing and leaned back against a stack of pillows. She sighed contentedly.

“Good stew?” Hoss asked.

“Delicious. You’ll love it.”

The four men sat eagerly at the table. The one perk to Josie’s having been ill was that Hop Sing was cooking hot lunches. Their midday meal usually consisted of cold sandwiches, but the cook was trying to put some meat back on Josie’s bones, so everyone had been enjoying hearty lunches.

Once lunch was cleared away, Adam brought Frankenstein downstairs for Josie to read, and the men returned to their work. Josie passed a pleasant afternoon alternately reading and napping and was proud as a peacock when she managed to get upstairs, use the washroom, and come back down to the settee under her own power. She was worn out again by the time she returned to the living room, but it was a triumph all the same.

She was dozing when the men returned home for supper, but she sat up and greeted them when she heard them come in. They returned the greetings cheerfully, but she noticed that Adam wore a strange expression on his face that was he was trying to conceal. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he shook his head, which Josie knew meant he would tell her later.

When Hop Sing announced that supper was ready, Josie rose slowly from the settee, wrapped her dressing gown more tightly around her body, and joined the family at the table.

“Oh, Josephine, you don’t have to sit out here with us,” Ben said.

“I want to, Uncle Ben. I’ve missed having supper with you. Besides, I got the impression Adam had news.”

Adam sighed. “In a minute,” he said.

Ben blessed the food, and once everyone was served, all eyes turned back to Adam.

“Well?” Ben asked.

Adam half-smiled and half-grimaced as he pulled a small, folded piece of paper out of his jeans pocket. He handed this to his father.

“This was waiting for me when I went into town this afternoon,” he said.

Ben’s eyes widened as he read the telegram. “This is wonderful!” he exclaimed, nearly leaping from his seat.

“What? WHAT?!” Little Joe demanded.

Ben looked across the table at Josie. “Your mother is coming.”

Josie’s fork hit her plate with a clatter. “Mama?” she said, her voice trembling as tears filled her eyes. “Mama’s coming?”

Ben smiled. Josie suddenly looked and sounded just like the nine-year-old girl she had been when he first met her. “Yes, ma’am. She must have sent this telegram from Panama. It says she’ll arrive on the stagecoach from San Francisco in two weeks.”

Josie buried her face in her red-checkered napkin and burst into tears for the second time that day. Adam reached over and rubbed her back while Little Joe let out a whoop of joy.

“How about that?” Joe hollered. “Aunt Hannah back on the Ponderosa!”

“I wonder why she didn’t write to tell me she was planning to visit,” Josie mused as she dried her eyes on her napkin. “And why now? It must be miserable crossing Panama this time of year. Autumn would be a much better time for a visit.”

Ben, Adam, and Hoss exchanged uncomfortable glances. “We-ell,” Ben said slowly, “we sent her a telegram when you were ill. You were in such a bad way, and we weren’t sure…” he trailed off with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

Josie nodded. “That was the right thing to do. I just can’t believe she’s coming all this way. My goodness, I haven’t seen her in two years.” Her eyes filled up again. Now that she had a chance to think about it, she realized just how badly she had missed her mother.

“I can’t believe she’s coming all this way alone,” Hoss said. “That’s a long way for a lady by herself.”

“Oh, she’s not alone,” Ben reported. “Not according to this telegram at least. She’s bringing your Aunt Rachel.”

Josie slapped her forehead. “That’s what put that pinched look on your face,” she said to Adam.

“Yep,” he confirmed. He caught Josie’s eye, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment before exploding in laughter.

Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe looked at Adam and Josie like they had lost their minds.

“What’s so funny?” Hoss demanded, a little put out that he had missed the joke.

Adam wiped his streaming eyes on his napkin while he handed Josie a glass of water to curtail the coughing fit her laughter had caused. “Aunt Rachel on the Ponderosa,” Adam gasped as he tried to catch his breath. “I can’t even picture it!” He dissolved into giggles again.

Josie, her coughing settled, stuck her nose up in an excellent imitation of Aunt Rachel and mimed holding a parasol. “Benjamin!” she trilled airily. “However do you live out here in this heathen wilderness?”

Adam doubled over, his nose nearly landing in his mashed potatoes. “It’s positively savage!” he sang out in falsetto. “Now, Boston. THAT’S civilization!”

Josie broke out in another coughing fit, and Ben put his foot down. “That’s quite enough, you two!” Adam bit his lip so hard to choke back his laughter that he tasted blood. “It’s awfully good of your Aunt Rachel to accompany Hannah all this way, and you will treat her with the respect she deserves.”

“Yessir,” Adam said, his eyes still twinkling.

Josie nodded while she sipped more water and took several deep breaths to quell her coughing.

“Aunt Hannah can have my bedroom,” Little Joe offered. “She’ll like being upstairs near Josie and Adam, and I don’t mind sleeping in the bunkhouse.”

Ben nodded. “Thank you, Joseph. We’ll put Rachel in the guestroom down here. We’ll have to get all those gifts out of there, though.”

“Gifts?” Josie croaked, still fighting back her cough.

“Tokens from your admirers,” Ben said, smiling. “Most of Virginia City brought you gifts while you were sick. I don’t even know what’s in there; we didn’t have time to go through them. We’ll look at them after supper.”

Josie excitedly finished off the rest of her supper and then returned to the settee to see her gifts as Ben and her boys carried them out of the guestroom. There was a beautiful embroidered throw pillow from Delphine Marquette, a tiny wooden model of Scout carved and painted by Josh Grayson, and an exquisitely detailed sketch of the White House and its North Lawn from Jimmy.

“Would you look at that?” Ben said, examining the drawing. “It looks like a photograph. I had no idea Jimmy could draw so well.”

“I think the boy has missed his calling,” Adam observed, peering at the drawing over his father’s shoulder. “I’ll get you a frame for this if you’d like to hang it in your room,” he said to Josie.

“I’d love that,” Josie said, silently resolving to contact an art school she knew of in St. Louis on Jimmy’s behalf.

The rest of the gifts included some of Josie’s favorite sweets, and she was particularly pleased with a bag from Sally’s father, Will, that contained a half a dozen large oranges. Little Joe, who loved oranges, too, eyed them longingly.

Josie gave him a coy smile. “Would you like one?” She held out an orange.

Little Joe hesitated, feeling bad about taking one of Josie’s get-well gifts. But then he caught a whiff of the fruit’s crisp, sweet scent, and the guilt disappeared. He snatched the orange from Josie’s hand and hollered a quick “Thanks!” as he tore into the kitchen to get a knife to peel it with.

The other four Cartwrights laughed, which brought on another round of coughing for Josie. Adam noticed how pale she had grown over the past couple hours. They’d probably let her do too much today. He got her another glass of water and sat next to her on the settee until her coughing settled. When the fit faded, she set the glass on the coffee table and, exhausted, leaned heavily against his shoulder.

“Come on, Little Sister,” he said, picking her up. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Too worn out to protest, Josie nodded and rested her head on Adam’s solid chest while he carried her upstairs to her bedroom. Once there, he helped her out of her green dressing gown and tucked her into bed. Josie immediately closed her eyes, so Adam kissed her forehead and crept toward the door. Just before he stepped through it, he heard Josie stir. He looked over his shoulder.

“I love my clinic,” she mumbled sleepily. “But don’t think I don’t see what you did there.”

“I’m sorry?”

Josie’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled. “You’ve made it impossible for me to ever leave the Ponderosa. Even if I go off to have my own family, I’ll have to stay close because my clinic is here.”

Adam grinned. “I promise you, that wasn’t my intention, but it does work out in my favor, doesn’t it?”

“You’re a sneaky, sneaky man, Adam Cartwright.” Josie paused. “But you know I wasn’t planning to ever go far anyway. I just don’t know how I’m going to tell Mama I won’t be coming back to Washington after the war.”

“I wouldn’t worry about your mother. Aunt Rachel, on the other hand…”

Josie groaned. “I’m supposed to be recovering, remember? Don’t say such upsetting things.”

“Sorry,” Adam apologized with a chuckle. “Stick close to me, kid. We’ll weather this visit together.”

“Thanks.” Josie yawned and nuzzled deeper into her pillows. “Goodnight, Adam.”

“Goodnight, Josie.” Adam blew out the oil lamp and closed the door quietly behind him. He ambled back downstairs to his father and brothers and plopped on the settee.

“So, Aunt Rachel’s comin’ along!” Hoss cheered. “That’s great!” He was the only one who was genuinely happy about the news.

“Yep, she sure is,” Adam said glumly.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m excited,” Hoss said.

“That’s because you’re the only one she actually likes.”

“Nobody dislikes Hoss,” Little Joe said as he crammed the last piece of his orange into his mouth. Joe had met Rachel only briefly when he and Adam had gone east to visit Josie four years ago, but even in that short visit he’d been the target of several of Rachel’s scathing remarks. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again any more than the rest of the family was.

Ben nodded in approval at Little Joe’s remark. It was true that Hoss rarely met an enemy. Even as a young boy, he had always looked for the good in everyone. Once, when he was only six years old, another boy, Jeremy Fitch, had been teasing him at school, and after a few self-defense lessons from Ben, Hoss had thrashed the boy soundly. As Jeremy fled, however, Hoss ran after him thinking that now the two of them had had it out, there was no reason they couldn’t be friends. And to this day, they were still close. Maybe if Rachel grew unbearable they could just send her out on a buggy ride with Hoss.

“Don’t worry, boys,” he said bracingly. “It will be fine. Besides, we’re focusing on the wrong thing. Your Aunt Hannah is coming! We’re all going to have a grand time.”

Adam and Joe shared a skeptical glance.

---

Josie paid the next day for her exertions. She spent the whole day sleeping, waking only for meals. Adam tried not to hover, but seeing her so exhausted again worried him, and he came home a couple hours early that afternoon to sit with her. When he reached her room, he felt her forehead and was relieved to discover she wasn’t feverish. He chastised himself for worrying but pulled up the armchair next to her bed and sat down anyway. Thinking he would read for a while, he grabbed Frankenstein off Josie’s night table, but he caught himself staring uncomprehendingly at the opening paragraph. He gazed around the bedroom, taking in the mottled gray walls, the blue lace curtains, and the crimson-and-blue rug. Nearly two years on, Adam was still pleased with his father’s décor choices for Josie’s room.

“Two years,” Adam thought to himself. It didn’t seem possible that it had been that long since Josie moved in, and yet, in some ways, it felt longer. He gazed out the front window and spotted Simon trotting up on his palomino mare. Adam glanced back down at Josie. “Don’t you be in any hurry to move out,” he whispered before heading downstairs to greet their visitor.

Much to Adam’s delight, Simon reported that Josie’s office desk would be completed in a few days.

“Good man!” Adam said and slapped Simon heartily on the back. He offered Simon some coffee and cookies, which Simon gratefully accepted.

“How did Josie like the clinic?” Simon asked once they were seated at the kitchen table enjoying their snack.

“She loved it!” Adam exclaimed. “Truly, Simon, you should have seen her face.” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I can’t thank you enough for all your hard work. I couldn’t believe it when Little Joe told me the clinic was nearly finished. And to know you did all that for Josie, well, it means a lot to me.”

An embarrassed smile flitted across Simon’s face. “I’d do anything for Josie,” he muttered into his coffee cup.

“Yeah,” Adam said, studying the younger man. “Yeah, I think you would.” There was an awkward silence, and Adam cast about for a new topic. “Oh! Did you hear the news? No, I guess you couldn’t have since last night. Josie’s mother is coming to visit! She’ll be here in two weeks.”

Simon’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful! Josie must have hit the ceiling when she heard that. She’s told me so much about her mother. I know she misses her.”

“She was pretty excited. And I can’t wait to see my Aunt Hannah again. She was like a mother to me when I was in college.” He smiled fondly at the memories.

“How long is she staying?”

“Not sure. Several weeks at least, I’d expect. You should come to supper some night while she’s here. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Simon beamed. “I’d like that very much.” Then his face grew worried, and he ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “If you don’t think I’m too rough. I mean, she’s a sophisticated Eastern lady, and I’m, well… I’m just a rancher.”

Adam leaned back in his chair and laughed good-naturedly. “What do you think I am?” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Trust me, she’ll like you just fine. Now Aunt Rachel, on the other hand…”

Simon’s face darkened at the name.

“I see Josie has already told you about the eldest Stoddard sister,” Adam said.

“She’s told me about all your family back east,” Simon replied cautiously. He didn’t want to damage this new warmth Adam was showing toward him by insulting the man’s family.

Adam laughed again. “Believe me, the stories are true. Aunt Rachel makes no attempts to hide her disdain for Cartwrights.” He paused thoughtfully. “Well, not all Cartwrights. She likes Hoss.”

“Everyone likes Hoss,” Simon said, echoing Little Joe’s sentiment from the previous night. “Especially Patience Lovejoy,” he snickered.

“No kidding?” Adam blurted, sitting up straight in his chair. He wasn’t one for idle gossip, but this was interesting news.

“Oh yeah,” Simon replied with a wicked grin. “But please don’t let on that I told you. She’d kill me.”

“You have my solemn word.”

“So what’s your Aunt Rachel got against Cartwrights?” Simon asked as he reached for another cookie. “Both her sisters married them.”

Adam sighed. “She blamed my father for my mother’s death for a long time. And even after more than thirty years, she’s still angry at him for bringing me out here and taking me away from the family.”

Simon was startled by Adam’s honest reply and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Adam was well known as a private man, and Simon felt a bit guilty for getting this personal glimpse into his mind. Adam, too, was surprised by his own admission. In his determination to dislike Simon Croft, he had never realized how easy the young man was to talk to.

“That’s a long time to stay mad at someone,” Simon opined.

“It is. She took it pretty well, though, when we told her I was bringing Josie out here. Maybe she’s mellowing with age.” Adam paused for a moment and then grinned. “But probably not. Just ignore anything unkind she says to you. That’s what we do.”

Simon chuckled. “I’ll remember that.” He glanced down at his empty coffee cup. “I should be headin’ home soon. Do you think I could look in on Josie before I go?”

“She’s been asleep all day,” Adam said. Then, seeing the crestfallen expression on Simon’s face, he added, “But I don’t think she’d mind if you woke her up.”

“Thanks, Adam!” Simon said with a grin. He leapt from his chair and bolted out of the kitchen and across the living room.

“It’s the last door at the end of the hall,” Adam called after him, shaking his head at the young man’s exuberance.

Simon knew very well which room was Josie’s, but he was not about to let on to Adam that he had been in her bedroom before. Something told him that would ruin the progress they’d just made.

---

Another week passed, and Josie continued to grow stronger. The weather was sunny and mild, and she spent much of her time sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch and soaking up the sunshine. Hop Sing had already begun a flurry of preparations for Hannah’s and Rachel’s impending arrival, and Josie even helped a little, airing out bedding and sweeping floors. She still tired quickly and slept more than usual, but every day she was able to do a bit more than the day before.

One pleasant afternoon, Simon drove up just after lunch in his father’s buckboard with Josie’s new desk strapped down in the back. Josie was napping on the sofa, but Adam had been expecting him and dashed into the yard to check out Simon’s handiwork.

It was a fine desk, made of sturdy walnut that Simon had polished to a deep shine. It had a narrow top drawer for paper and pens, and two drawers on the side for whatever files Josie might want to keep handy.

“It’s perfect, Simon!” Adam declared, shaking Simon’s hand. “Absolutely perfect. Let’s go put it in the clinic.”

Adam and Simon hopped onto the buckboard’s seat, and Simon drove them the short way to the clinic, where they unloaded Josie’s new desk and placed it in her office. They stood there admiring it, and Adam was pleased when Simon told him he would have a matching chair finished in a few days.

They headed back outside, and Simon glanced up at the cloudless blue sky. “Sure is a nice day. You think Josie would be up for a short ride?”

Something jumped in Adam’s stomach, but he thought how delighted Josie would be by the idea and forced his insides to settle down. “I expect she would be. She’s napping on the settee, but the fresh air would be good for her.”

They hopped back into the wagon to return to the house. When they got there, Simon charged inside, then hit his brakes and approached the settee softly. Josie was lying on her side, her loose black hair draped over her face like a curtain. Simon reached out gently swept her hair back and tucked it behind her ear.

“Go ‘way, I’m sleepin’,” Josie mumbled, her lower lip sticking out in a pout.

“Sorry,” Simon whispered, his face falling. “I’ll leave you be.”

Josie’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of this familiar, yet unexpected, tenor voice. “Simon,” she said, her face breaking into a wide smile. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were Adam.” She sat up and hugged Simon around the neck.

“Oh, sure,” Adam said as he stepped into the house, “Simon gets a hug, but Older Brother gets told to go away.”

Josie giggled and looked over her shoulder at Adam. “Would you like a hug, Adam?”

Adam grinned. “No, it’s all right. I’m gonna have a cookie.” As he headed for the kitchen, he called back, “I’ll have Hop Sing package up a few.. gonna have a cookie. exclaimedncomfortable glances.and the Cartwrights did not want to burden him further by saddling him with You can take them with you.”

“Where are we going?” Josie asked Simon.

“I’ve got my buckboard here. Thought maybe you’d like to go for a little ride, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I’d love to!”

“Wonderful! Go find yourself some shoes.”

Josie threw off her blanket and ascended the stairs. While Simon was waiting for her to return, Adam reemerged from the kitchen with a small package of cookies. He handed it to Simon and then gripped his arm and stared him directly in the eyes.

“Remember what I said,” Adam warned him.

“I will. Josie’s safe with me, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that. But keep a special eye out, too. She’s still recovering, you know, and she won’t tell you if she’s getting tired, so if she looks pale or you can see that her energy is flagging, bring her straight home.”

“I’ll do that. I’ll have her home by suppertime in any case.”

Adam nodded. “See that you do.” He released Simon’s arm.

Josie reemerged just then. She had put on a pair of buttoned-up leather shoes and had secured her hair in a loose braid. Adam’s heart soared at the sight of her. For the first time in a month, she looked healthy. Her burgundy skirt and blue shirtwaist hung loosely from her body, but her hair had regained its shine, and her hazel eyes were clear and sparkling. Adam gathered her up in a hug.

“Have fun,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t keep the young man out too late.”

Josie giggled. “I won’t.” She moved over to the sideboard and grabbed her black jacket and cowboy hat, which she plunked on her head and cocked rakishly over her right eye. “Ready?” she asked Simon.

Simon grinned and offered his arm. He led Josie out of the house and to his waiting buckboard, where he helped her up before springing into the seat next to her. Josie waved happily to Adam, Simon clucked to the horses, and they set off.

Adam stood on the porch and watched them go and was nearly knocked over when Pip bolted from the house and took off after the wagon. He laughed briefly, but butterflies flitted about in his stomach. “Watch yourself, Croft,” he muttered before heading back inside.

Josie and Simon laughed when Pip caught up to them. Josie invited the dog to jump into the back of the wagon for a ride, but the wolfhound opted to trot alongside. As they passed the new clinic, Simon asked Josie where she would like to go. “The lake’s a bit too far, but if there’s another nice spot you know about, just tell me which direction,” he said.

Josie thought for a moment. “I know!” she chirped, lighting up. “There’s a little stream not too far from here with some big, shady trees along the bank. Head west.”

Simon did, and they rolled along quietly, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s silent company. After about twenty minutes, Simon spotted a line of trees up ahead. “Is that it?”

“Yep!” Josie replied happily. This was one of her favorite spots on the Ponderosa. It was one of the Cartwrights’ winter pastures, but by this point in the spring, the cattle had been moved out, leaving the expansive green field empty apart from speckles of white, yellow, and purple wildflowers. In the distance, they could see the soaring, snowcapped Sierra Nevada reaching toward the sky. Pip tore off across the meadow, snapping playfully at butterflies he would never be able to catch, and Simon reined the team to a stop near the babbling little stream and unhitched them from the wagon so they could drink and graze.

“This is nice,” he said, looking around. The Lucky Star had some picturesque spots, too, but there was no denying that Ben Cartwright owned the prettiest land in the territory.

“I love this place,” Josie said wistfully. I’ve thought once or twice how nice it would be to have a little house down here, but I don’t think I could bring myself to build on this meadow. It’s the kind of place that should stay open and unspoiled.” She smiled as she gazed toward the mountains.

Simon sidled up to her and hesitatingly laid a hand on her shoulder. He nearly burst with joy when Josie reached up and laid her hand atop his. “You really love the Ponderosa, don’t you?”

Josie turned to face him. “I do. Ever since my first visit here.” She gazed back toward the mountains. “No, even before that. When I was a little girl and Adam would stay with us during breaks from college, he would tell me all about this great ranch and the mountains and fields, and I knew then that this was where I wanted to be. Out here with the fresh air and the enormous sky.”

“And your cousins,” Simon added.

“Yeah, them, too, I guess.”

Simon chuckled. “Come on. Let’s have some of those cookies.”

He took one of the blankets he had used to cushion Josie’s desk out of the back of the wagon and spread it on the ground underneath a large oak tree on the stream bank. He then grabbed the package of cookies and a canteen from underneath the buckboard’s seat, took them over to the blanket, and sat down, patting the space next to him. Josie tore herself away from the view and joined Simon on the blanket. She removed her hat and tossed it aside before tearing open the package of cookies. She laughed when she saw what flavor they were.

“What’s so funny?” Simon said. “I love chocolate cookies!”

“So does Hoss,” Josie explained. “He must not know Hop Sing made them or there wouldn’t have been any left for us!”

Simon laughed, too. “That man sure can eat.”

“Yeah. Good thing Patience sure can cook!” They caught each other’s gaze and dissolved into giggles.

“You noticed, too?” Simon asked.

“How could I not?” Josie replied, still giggling. “I just hope the two of them figure it out. They would be awfully cute together.”

“Not as cute as you and me,” Simon mumbled bashfully, lacing his fingers through Josie’s.

“Well, I think that goes without saying,” Josie said, smiling shyly at him.

Simon took his free hand and titled Josie’s chin upwards a bit, leaned in, and kissed her for the first time since Christmas. This time they didn’t have to worry about interruptions, and Josie let her lips linger on his, memorizing the feel of them. He wrapped his arm around her waist and was pulling her closer to him when his shin struck something solid.

“Ow!” he yelped, breaking away from Josie and rubbing his bruised leg. “What in the world?”

Josie came over giggling again as she realized what Simon’s leg had hit. She pulled the hem of her skirt up a few inches and unstrapped her Derringer from her ankle. Simon watched with huge eyes as she laid the weapon in the grass next to the blanket.

“What?” she asked innocently when she noticed Simon’s wide-eyed stare.

“Do you wear that all the time?”

“Not all the time. I prefer my Colt, but I don’t like wearing it with skirts because I can’t tie the holster to my leg. The Derringer is much more practical if I’m in a dress.”

“I see.”

Josie giggled at Simon’s stricken expression. “Don’t take it personally. I trust you. It’s just a big ranch, and a lot can happen.”

Simon shook his head. “Josie, whatever you do, never stop amazing me.”

“I’ll do my best,” she promised. And then she kissed him again.

They sat together for over an hour, Simon’s arm encircling Josie’s shoulders, and Josie resting her head on his chest, as they ate their cookies and chatted about their plans for the summer and Hannah and Rachel’s upcoming visit. Josie felt like she could sit there forever, but all too soon, Simon was glancing up at the sun and announcing that they had to head back. He hitched the team back up to the wagon while Josie whistled for Pip, who came bounding across the meadow toward them with a dead rabbit in his mouth. He dropped this at Josie’s feet and beamed proudly at her.

“Oh, Pip, what a good boy, making sure I have something to eat!” Josie gushed as she ruffled the dog’s wiry fur. “You take such good care of your mama, yes, you do!” Pip barked happily and licked Josie’s face. She giggled, picked up the rabbit, and placed it in the back of the buckboard.

“You plannin’ on cookin’ that?” Simon asked with one lip curled. Rabbit was good, but he didn’t think he’d want one that Pip had drooled all over.

“I’ll give it back to him when we get home. He’ll have forgotten by then that he gave it to me. He won’t eat it if he thinks it’s mine.”

Simon chuckled and shook his head as he helped Josie up into the wagon. He climbed into the seat beside her and headed back toward the house.

Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe had all returned home by the time Simon delivered Josie to the front door, and Ben shouted at Hoss and Joe not to spy on the young couple through the front window. Adam wanted to join his brothers but forced himself to stay planted in the blue armchair, where he was pretending to read.

“But, Pa, he’s kissin’ her goodbye!” Hoss reported from the window.

Ben glanced across the room at Adam and stifled a snicker as he saw his eldest son’s shoulders tense up.

“Ain’t you gonna do anything about it, Adam?” Little Joe antagonized his brother.

“No,” Adam said shortly in a strangled sort of way, as if someone had just punched him in the belly. “No, it’s fine.” His shoulders crowded his ears. “I’m just gonna go wash up for supper.” He rose from his chair and marched stiffly up the stairs, stomping on each riser a bit harder than was necessary.

“Well, someone’s singin’ a new tune,” Hoss observed as he watched Adam ascend the stairs.

“I think someone realized how much Simon cares about Josie,” Ben replied softly. Then he grinned. “And I expect that someone also threatened Mr. Croft with severe bodily harm if he broke Josie’s heart.”

Hoss and Little Joe swallowed their laughter as Josie and Pip came inside and greeted them with a big smile.

“Did you have a nice time?” Ben asked as he rose to greet Josie.

“Wonderful!” Josie sighed and tossed her hat onto the sideboard. “It was such a beautiful day. I’m so glad Simon coaxed me out of the house.”

Ben smiled as he took in Josie’s sun-kissed cheeks and wide smile. He, too, noticed that she was still a bit on the thin side, but her vigor had returned, and Ben had great faith in Hop Sing’s ability to put the meat back on her bones.

“Adam’s upstairs washing up for supper,” he said. “Hop Sing should have everything ready soon.”

“Splendid!” Josie crowed, still glowing. She planted a peck on her uncle’s cheek and skipped up the stairs to wash up.

“Gee,” Little Joe said as he watched Josie flit upstairs, “kinda makes me want to go on a buggy ride.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Hoss agreed, looking thoughtful. “Hey, Pa, I’m gonna take one of the buggies to church on Sunday.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “That’s awfully nice of you to take Little Joe on a ride,” he teased. Adam, who had just returned to the first floor, snickered.

Hoss shot his father and brother an annoyed look. “Very funny. For your information, I happen to have a nice little gal in mind.”

“Good for you, Hoss!” Little Joe praised, slapping his brother on the back. “Who is it?”

“Never you mind who. I don’t need you tryin’ to help and ruinin’ my chances with her.”

“Who? Me?” Little Joe asked aghast.

“Yeah, you.”

Little Joe was about to protest when he was interrupted by Josie reemerging from the second floor. She took in the little standoff between Hoss and Joe, shrugged, and sat down at the table for supper.

“Come on, you two,” Ben said, putting an arm around each of his two younger sons. “Let’s eat before Hop Sing gets offended.”

Hoss beamed at his father as he followed him to the table, but Little Joe slunk behind, scowling. Rebecca Croft had recently turned her attention to Ross Marquette’s younger brother, Matthew, and it irked Little Joe to no end that Hoss had a romantic interest and he didn’t.

“Cheer up, Joe,” Adam said, observing the black look on his youngest brother’s face. “I’m sure Widow Hawkins would be positively delighted if you asked her to go on a buggy ride with you.”

Ben, Hoss, and Josie erupted into gales of laughter, while Little Joe grabbed a fork and slapped slices of venison onto his plate. He sneered at Adam and apart from asking Josie to please pass the salt, refused to speak for the rest of the meal.

---

Josie and Hoss both approached church that Sunday with a dose of apprehension. It would be Josie’s first trip into Virginia City since she’d been ill, and she fervently hoped no one would make a fuss over her. Hoss, meanwhile, was aflutter over inviting Patience for a buggy ride and a picnic after the service.

“Ask her before the service starts,” Josie whispered into Hoss’s ear as he hitched up a horse to the two-seater buggy. “That way you won’t be agonizing over it the whole time.” Hoss nodded, grateful for this bit of advice. He was beginning to realize that when it came to understanding women, Josie was a much more reliable source of information than either of his brothers were—especially Little Joe.

When the Cartwrights rolled into town that morning—Hoss in the buggy and Ben, Adam, Josie, and Little Joe in the four-seater surrey—the townspeople did, to Josie’s dismay, make a huge fuss over the now-healthy Dr. Cartwright. As soon as Adam helped her down from the wagon, she was swarmed by a mob of people hugging her and exclaiming how glad they were that she was well again. Hoss took advantage of everyone’s preoccupation with his cousin to pull Patience aside.

“Hey, uh, Patience,” he said, doffing his hat and worrying the brim with his fingers.

Patience smiled at him, her brown eyes dancing with delight. “Yes?”

Hoss swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I was wonderin’ if maybe you’d, uh, if you’d like to, uh, take a buggy ride with me after church?” He let out the rest of his breath in one big huff.

Patience beamed even more brightly. “I’d love to!”

“Really?” Hoss’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“Yes, really,” Patience giggled. “That sounds nice.”

Struck speechless, Hoss just grinned at her, which made her giggle again. He shook his head to clear it and managed to find his voice again. “I thought I could get us a picnic lunch from the International House to take along. You like fried chicken?”

“I love fried chicken.”

He grinned again and hustled back to his family, placing his hat confidently back on his head as he went. Adam snickered when he saw the crumpled brim of Hoss’s hat, but he didn’t mention it. Hoss was beaming more brightly than he’d ever seen, and he didn’t want to spoil his younger brother’s good mood. Hoss smirked at Little Joe and then offered Josie his arm, escorting her grandly away from the throng of well-wishers and into the church.

Little Joe pouted all through the church service and glowered as he watched Hoss lead Patience to the buggy afterwards.

“Aw, cheer up, Joe,” Josie said as the rest of the family headed home. “You have the attention of nearly all the young ladies in Virginia City. Let Hoss have this one.”

Sitting in the backseat of the buggy with Josie, Adam bit his lip to keep from laughing and turned his face away from Josie. If he made eye contact with her just then, the two of them would erupt in laughter and infuriate Little Joe. Josie thought the same thing, and looked away from Adam as well, though she reached over and squeezed his hand. She felt a little shudder as his shoulders quaked with his stifled laughter, and she had to bite her lip too.

When they reached the house, Little Joe bolted from the buggy and stalked upstairs to his bedroom, where he sulked the rest of the afternoon. Ben decided to take a ride out to visit a friend, so Adam and Josie settled themselves on the settee with a book apiece to spend a quiet day. Josie had considered riding out to see Simon, but she was still hit by occasion spells of fatigue, and church had worn her out. Much as she wanted to see her beau, staying home with Adam this afternoon sounded like a nicer idea than riding an hour and a half each way to the Lucky Star. And Simon had promised to come by in a day or two anyway.

They sat in companionable silence throughout the afternoon as they enjoyed their books and Josie took the occasional catnap. She was roused from her final snooze of the afternoon by the sound of Hop Sing clanging around in the kitchen as he prepared supper, and she decided to see if she could help.

When she arrived in the kitchen, Josie discovered the cook sniffling and wiping tears from his eyes as he bent over his cutting board near the sink.

“Hop Sing!” she exclaimed as she rushed to him. “Whatever is wrong?”

Hop Sing sniffled again and looked up at Josie with red-rimmed eyes. “It’s this onion,” he said, gesturing to the produce on the cutting board. “I’ve never encountered such potency in a vegetable.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Josie laughed and took the knife from him. “Go get some fresh air. I’ll finish chopping this for you.”

Hop Sing bowed gratefully to her and escaped out the kitchen door to take several deep gulps of the clean, spring air, which he frantically fanned into his burning eyes with his hand.

Two slices into the onion, Josie realized what Hop Sing had been on about. Her eyes and nose began to run, and before long, she, too, was dabbing at her face with her sleeve. When Adam wandered into the kitchen to see what was keeping her, he found her weeping over the cutting board, just as she had found Hop Sing.

“Josie!” Adam cried. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed at the cutting board. “Onion!” she declared, wiping her eyes again. Adam laughed and sent her outside with Hop Sing while he finished the chopping. By the time he finished, he, too, had streaming red eyes, and he joined Hop Sing and Josie on the porch.

“I never knew it could take three people to conquer a vegetable,” he said as pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.

The three of them laughed and gazed across the yard as they heard a buggy approaching the house. It was Hoss, returning from his afternoon with Patience, and even from a distance, Adam, Hop Sing, and Josie could see the gigantic smile spread across his face.

“Think he had a good time?” Josie asked Adam, nudging him gently in the ribs with her elbow.

“I’d say so,” Adam chuckled. “Little Joe’s gonna be furious.”

Hoss leapt from the buggy before it had rolled to a complete stop. “Hey, there!” he hollered to his family. He strode onto the porch and swept Josie up in a big hug and swung her around in a circle. Josie giggled with delight and kissed his cheek.

“Have fun?” she asked.

Hoss’s blue eyes sparkled like diamonds. He pulled Josie aside as Adam and Hop Sing headed back into the house, still chuckling. “Josie,” he said earnestly, “I’m gonna marry that little gal.”

Josie’s right eyebrow popped up. “That was fast!”

Hoss blushed and ducked his head. “I don’t mean right away. I expect we should court a bit first.”

“That’s usually a good first step.”

“But I already spoke with the Reverend, and he said he couldn’t be happier to have a Cartwright courtin’ his little girl.”

“That’s wonderful! Hoss, I’m so excited for you. Truly, I am.” She hugged him again and said a silent prayer that everything would work out for him and Patience.

---

Hannah and Rachel’s stagecoach was arriving that Friday, and the Cartwrights spent the rest of the week in a frenzy to make the house and grounds as clean as possible. Even the barn and bunkhouse got thorough scrubbings, and Ben ordered all the hands to be on their best behavior.

“There will be no cursing, no fighting, no gambling, and no drinking while my sisters-in-law are here,” he commanded. “You will address them as ‘Mrs. Cartwright’ and ‘Miss Stoddard’ and afford them even more respect than you already afford me. Any man breaking these rules will be summarily dismissed. Is that clear?”

The men nodded. Apart from “no gambling”—Ben tolerated the occasional friendly game of poker—these were no different than the rules Ben Cartwright always expected of his hands, but they understood that it made him feel better to speak them aloud. Some of the older hands had to hide smiles; they’d never seen their boss so nervous. Several of the younger ones, however, were clenched by anxiety at Ben’s stern orders. When Ben dismissed them, Jimmy pulled Adam aside.

“Adam, how do we know which lady’s Mrs. Cartwright and which one’s Miss Stoddard? I don’t want to get them mixed up.”

“That’s easy. Mrs. Cartwright is the one who smiles.”

Jimmy giggled nervously before he realized Adam wasn’t joking. His face fell as he wondered just what they were all in for.

---

Josie could hardly sleep Thursday night.

“Two years,” she whispered into the darkness of her bedroom. She couldn’t believe it had been so long since she’d seen Mama. Their longest separation before this had been measured in weeks.

She lit the oil lamp on her night table and picked up the framed photo of her parents that she kept there next to the photo of herself, Adam, and Little Joe from four years ago. She studied the photo carefully. It had been taken just before the war broke out. Mama was seated and Papa stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder. Mama had her dark hair fashionably piled atop her head and her hands clasped in her lap, and a soft smile played on her lips. She had a few more creases around her eyes than she had when Josie was a little girl, but otherwise, she was unchanged from the woman who had rocked her to sleep as a child. Josie hoped the past two years had not changed her mother, either, and she smiled at the photo.

“Oh, Mama,” she whispered. “Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough.”

---

Despite their anxiety over the arrival of Aunt Rachel, all five Cartwrights were bouncing off the walls at breakfast Friday morning. There was a lightheartedness in the house that had been missing since Josie had been ill, and everyone was grinning and laughing easily. Even the sun streaming in the dining-room window seemed a bit brighter because Hannah Cartwright was returning to the Ponderosa.

At one point, for no other reason than sheer elation, Adam and Hoss broke out singing an old sea shanty Ben had taught them as boys, and Little Joe grabbed Josie’s hands and danced with her around the living room. Not one to be left out of the fun, Pip chased after them, barking, and for once, Ben didn’t chastise the animal for barking in the house.

When Ben announced just after breakfast that it was time to head into town, the four cousins tried to exit the house all at once and got jammed in the doorway. Josie was toward the front of the pack, and the force from her larger cousins squeezing against her popped her out the door and onto the porch. She grabbed Little Joe’s hand and pulled him free, leaving Adam and Hoss to tumble onto the porch in a heap.

“Come on, you two!” she said, stamping her foot. “Quit fooling around, and let’s go!” She raced Little Joe to the barn before remembering that she’d be riding in the carriage with Ben, so she turned around and sprinted back to the house and sprang neatly into the front seat of the waiting carriage. Still lying on his stomach on the porch, Adam watched Josie’s acrobatics with admiration.

“Wonder where she and Joe get it from,” Adam said to Hoss, who was picking himself up. “You and I were never that springy.”

Hoss shrugged and pulled Adam to his feet, and the pair of them ambled over to the buckboard that was also waiting in the yard. Though Ben was driving their fanciest surrey carriage with leather seats and a top to protect its passengers from sun and rain, there were only four seats, so Adam and Hoss would drive the buckboard to carry Rachel’s and Hannah’s luggage, and Little Joe would follow along on horseback. Pip trotted along beside the carriage.

That drive into Virginia City was the longest of Josie’s life. She tried to pass the time by closing her eyes, counting to fifty and then trying to guess which landmark they would be near when she opened her eyes again, but she grew bored with this game after only two rounds. She didn’t realize she was bouncing with excitement until Ben asked her to please sit still because she was making the whole carriage shake.

Adam watched with amusement. He, too, felt the excitement welling up in his chest, but whether from his more reserved personality or the ten years’ extra maturity he had on Josie, he hid it better than she did. But he was excited. Hannah was his closest connection to his own mother, and she was the one person he didn’t mind coddling him. Even knowing he had to put up with Aunt Rachel couldn’t spoil his mood.

They reached town about an hour before the stagecoach was due to arrive, so Little Joe and Hoss headed to the Bucket of Blood for beers. Ben, Adam, and Josie opted to sit outside the stage depot to wait just in case the stage was early. The stagecoach had never been early in Virginia City’s four years of existence, but Adam and Josie were unwilling to take a chance, and Ben decided he may as well join them. It was too early for beer anyway.

Time ticked by slowly, and after forty-five minutes that felt like a lifetime, Hoss and Little Joe returned from the saloon, laughing and joshing around. Little Joe took the last bit of free space on the bench, but Hoss was determined to sit down too. When he shoved his large frame onto Little Joe’s end of the bench, Ben got pushed off the other side onto the wooden sidewalk. The younger Cartwrights dissolved into laughter, despite the scathing glare they received from Ben.

The interminable minutes continued to slog by, and finally, Little Joe’s eagle eyes spotted a cloud of dust rising above the buildings at the edge of town. Everyone leapt to their feet and rushed to the edge of the street, all of them craning their necks to catch the first glimpse of the approaching stage.

“There it is!” Joe shouted, spotting it first. Adam grabbed the back of Little Joe’s and Josie’s jackets to keep them from charging into the street and the path of the oncoming stage.

The coach rolled to a halt in front of the depot, and Josie beat her entire family to it, even shouldering Hoss out of the way, much to the large man’s surprise. She hopped from foot to foot as a middle-aged man stepped out of the coach and offered his hand to one of the passengers inside. Seconds later, Hannah Cartwright stepped out into the bright Nevada sunshine. The light from behind her cast a halo around her black hair, and Josie thought her mother looked just like an angel.

“Mama!” she shrieked and launched herself, sobbing, into her mother’s arms.

Hannah wrapped her arms around her daughter and burst into tears. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered into Josie’s sable hair.

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” Josie sobbed.

Hannah clung to the daughter she had at one point feared she would never see again. She’d booked her passage to Nevada as soon as she received Ben’s first telegram about Josie’s illness. Though she’d received the good news of Josie’s fever breaking just before she left Boston, she’d spent the entire journey with her stomach in knots as she yearned to reach Josie and cursed herself for ever letting her leave the East. But now, with her daughter back in her arms, her worries melted away. She stepped back and took a good long look at Josie for the first time in two years.

“Oh, Josie,” she breathed. “Look at you! You’re so strong!”

Adam smiled as Josie blushed at her mother’s compliment. Despite Josie’s recent illness, Hannah’s words were true. Adam hadn’t noticed it before, probably because the transition had been gradual, but Josie certainly was stronger than she had been when she first arrived on the Ponderosa. She’d always been slender, but two years ago she had still had a certain softness about her that was gone now. Two years of lifting patients and riding and shooting with her cousins had hardened her muscles and left her lean and wiry.

Hannah looked up from Josie and saw Adam standing there, smiling at her. “Adam, sweetheart!” she exclaimed and peppered his face with kisses before gathering him up in a warm embrace.

As Hannah turned to greet Hoss, Rachel Stoddard appeared in the doorway of the stagecoach.

She was a formidable presence, standing there in the doorway, towering over the Cartwrights. Josie stifled a snigger as she gazed upon her aunt. Rachel was still dressed for Boston’s high society in a long-sleeved periwinkle gown with such a large hoopskirt that Josie marveled she’d fit inside the stagecoach. Her gray hair was done up in ringlets and perched atop her head was a matching hat trimmed with lace and silk flowers. On her feet she wore delicate black silk slippers. Josie looked down at her own plain shirtwaist, straight skirt, and black boots and shook her head in amusement.

“She’s gonna stick out like a skunk in a perfume shop,” she muttered to Little Joe, who had to bite his lip to keep from snickering aloud.

Ben stepped forward and offered his hand to help Rachel from the stagecoach.

“Rachel!” he exclaimed cheerfully and kissed her cheek. “Welcome to Virginia City!”

“Benjamin,” Rachel replied coolly, nodding at her brother-in-law. She gazed around the small, dusty town and wrinkled her nose. “A bit grand, don’t you think, referring to this hamlet as a ‘city’?”

Adam chuckled and stepped forward to rescue his father. “We have great aspirations for it, Aunt Rachel.”

“Oh, Adam, darling!” Rachel exclaimed. She brushed Ben aside to give Adam a quick, demure hug. “How are you, my dear? We heard you had a bit of a turn last year, and I was ever so worried about you.” She grabbed his chin and studied his face intently.

Adam blushed. He hadn’t known word of his desert wanderings had reached Boston. “I’m fine, Aunt Rachel,” he assured her, gently pushing her hands away from his face. “Josie patched me right up.”

Rachel seemed to suddenly remember Josie’s presence and the entire reason for having traveled to Virginia City in the first place. “Josephine!” she declared, pushing Adam aside so she could clasp her niece’s hands. “You poor child, how are you?”

Josie was taken aback by her aunt’s uncharacteristic concern for her wellbeing and shot Adam a startled look. In that brief instant, Rachel spotted the enormous shaggy dog sitting next to Josie and let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed off every building in town. Reflexively, all four Cartwright men drew their pistols and cast about for the source of the danger. But the drawn guns only frightened Rachel more, and she screamed again, setting Pip to barking.

“WOLF!” Rachel shrieked, pointing at the dog and drawing back in terror. “Shoot it, Benjamin, shoot it!”

“Aw, Aunt Rachel,” Hoss said, holstering his gun and taking her arm. “That ain’t no wolf. That’s just Pip.”

“Pip?” she asked faintly, as if she were considering swooning.

“My dog!” Josie chirped. She knelt next to Pip and ruffled the fur on his head. “Isn’t he magnificent? Adam got him for me.”

Adam cowed under Rachel’s withering glare, but Hannah smiled broadly and stepped toward the animal.

“Why, hello, Pip,” she greeted him. “Josie has told me so much about you in her letters. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Pip ducked his head and offered Hannah his right paw, which she shook regally. “Oh, Josie, he’s marvelous!” she gushed and looked at Adam with a smile that spoke volumes.

“Wait until you see my horse, Mama!” Josie boasted.

“Merciful heavens!” Rachel gasped, keeping Hoss between herself and Pip. “You have a horse, too?”

“You gotta have a horse, ma’am,” Hoss explained. “It’s a long way to everywhere around here.”

Rachel nodded weakly. “I suppose so,” she muttered, still clutching Hoss’s arm.

“Whatever you do, don’t mention your gun,” Adam whispered into Josie’s ear.

As Hannah and Rachel greeted the rest of the family, the Cartwrights were joined by half the town, who had heard Rachel screaming and had run out to investigate. After assuring Sheriff Coffee, Dr. Martin, Josh Grayson, Will Cass, Amos Crawford, and Reverend Lovejoy that all was well, Ben spotted an all-too-familiar female figure rushing across the street toward them. He ducked behind Little Joe, but his youngest son was too skinny to conceal his broad frame, and Ben was caught.

“DUCKY!” Widow Hawkins shouted from halfway across the street. “What is going on over ‘ere? Are you all right?”

“Fine, Widow Hawkins, just fine,” Ben assured her as she swept up to him and extended her hand.

“Oh, now, Benjamin, ‘ow many times do I ‘ave to tell you to please call me Clementine? And ‘oo’s this?” she asked, turning toward Rachel and Hannah.

“Oh, Widow Hawkins,” Ben said, “please allow me to introduce my sisters-in-law, Hannah Cartwright and Rachel Stoddard.” He gestured to each lady in turn.

The widow beamed at the sisters. “Isn’t that wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I guess you’ve come to visit our good doctor, ‘aven’t you? I say, it will be so lovely to ‘ave a pair of refined ladies around, even if it’s only for a bit. One does get so tired of being surrounded by naught but rough men!”

“I doubt that,” Adam muttered.

Widow Hawkins clasped Rachel’s hand warmly as she eyed the Bostonian woman’s dress enviously. “You are simply the picture of sophistication. What a sight for these old sore eyes of mine!”

Rachel beamed at both the compliment and the widow’s British accent, Cockney though it was. “Thank you,” she replied. “It’s so wonderful to know there are true ladies in Virginia City after all. I was beginning to despair a little.” She tipped her head in the direction of Josie’s plain outfit and massive dog, who was now drooling on his mistress’s scuffed boot.

The widow laughed in a high, tinkling way wholly unlike her usual rough guffaw. “Don’t you worry, dearie. Clementine will take good care of you while you’re ‘ere! Now, you must be famished after that ‘orrid stagecoach ride. Let’s get you over to the ‘otel and put a proper meal in you!”

Rachel laughed delightedly and took Widow Hawkins’ proffered arm, and the pair of them swept down the street toward the International House, chatting and giggling like two old friends.

The Cartwrights stood aghast, mouths agape, as they watched Rachel and Clementine sashay down the street together as if they had been friends for decades.

“Oh, dear God,” Ben whispered as all the color drained from his face.

“Heaven help us,” added Adam.

“What’s the matter?” Hannah asked. “She seems lovely.”

Little Joe snorted, and Adam rolled his eyes skyward.

“I’ll explain later, Mama,” Josie said. “Right now, we better catch up before the two of them have a chance to start plotting.”

Ben offered Hannah his arm and, with the greatest sense of foreboding he had ever felt in his life, led his family toward the International House and their lunch with Rachel Stoddard and Clementine Hawkins.