Chapter 1: King Adam

Little Joe glared up at Adam, who sat regally astride Nightshade. Why does he have to be so bossy? Joe wondered for the thousandth time. “I can so ride Nightshade,” Joe insisted. “I turned ten last week, remember? And I’m a good rider. Pa says so.”Adam looked down at Joe from his lofty perch and gave him that maddening crooked smile of his. “Not that good. Even for ten.” He emphasized the last word, and Joe caught the barest hint of derision. He had to fight hard to keep from stomping his foot. Boy, would that ever prove Adam’s point.Hoss put a hand on his arm. “Adam’s right, little brother.” Joe shook the hand off, and Hoss looked hurt, but he didn’t back down. “That’s a one-man horse. Even I don’t ride him. Shoot, even Pa don’t ride him—you know that.”

Adam turned Nightshade toward the barn, the subject apparently closed. Joe clenched his fists.

“Calm down, little brother,” Hoss told him.

“Quit calling me that!”

Hoss shrugged, picked up the cross saw, and headed for the back yard. Joe stayed where he was, scowling toward the barn, and Hoss called over his shoulder, “You gonna help me with this wood or not?”

“Okay, okay.” Reluctantly, he trotted after Hoss. “I think I’ll just show him,” he muttered, and Hoss turned to stare at him.

“What are you runnin’ on about?”

Halting in midstride, Joe folded his arms. “I might decide to take Nightshade out when Adam’s not around. I might decide to—”

“You get that idea right outa your head, Joe. Pa’ll skin you alive if you do that.”

“I certainly will.” Both boys whipped around to see Pa standing six feet away, close enough to have overheard. Joe felt a too-familiar quiver in the pit of his stomach. Pa walked slowly toward him, his eyes fixed on Joe’s, and raised a finger. That finger held a world of promise. Looking at it, Joe wanted to take a step backward. He sucked in a deep breath and stood still, meeting his father’s gaze.

“Joseph…Francis…Cartwright.” Each word was as hard as granite. “If you so much as put a bit in that horse’s mouth, you’ll eat off the sideboard for a month. Do you understand me?”

Joe gulped. “Yes, sir.”

Pa held his eyes another moment, then turned without a word and went back to the house. Joe let out his breath in a whoosh. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it.

Hoss’s expression mingled reproach and sympathy. “Come on, little brother,” he said, and this time Joe didn’t protest. “Let’s go cut them logs.”

***

“You gonna eat that, Hoss?” Joe asked, reaching across the table for Hoss’s biscuit. It was an old joke, but one he never tired of.

Grinning, Hoss slapped his hand.

“Boys,” Pa said sternly. “Act civilized.”

“Act is right,” Adam put in, his fork halfway to his mouth. Joe giggled. The litany was so familiar he could have recited each person’s lines, but it was still funny.

“Too much talk, not enough eat!” Hop Sing complained as he set another plate of biscuits on the table. Hoss obligingly grabbed one of them and slathered it with butter.

Pa eyed his middle son’s plate. “Don’t you think you should finish the one you’ve got first?”

“But Pa, this one’s hot. I don’t want it to cool before I butter it.”

Pa opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, shaking his head. He sipped his water and changed the subject. “Joe, have you finished those practice sums I gave you?” Joe sighed, which Pa apparently—and rightly—took as a no. “Right after supper, then.”

“I hate doing sums,” Joe burst out. “Why do I have to do them?”

Adam arched an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to have your own ranch someday.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Well, you’d better be able to calculate, otherwise you’re going to get cheated when you buy or sell stock.” He took a bite of steak, chewed it slowly, and swallowed before speaking again. Joe rolled his eyes, thinking, Mr. Perfect would never talk with his mouth full. Adam continued, “And you’ll have to keep inventories, and pay your workers, and project profits and losses. And you’ll need to know angles and pitches, or your buildings will fall down. That’s geometry. And you’ll need algebra to—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Joe muttered.

Pa frowned at him. “Adam’s right, Joseph. You should listen to him.”

Joe swung his feet so hard he accidentally kicked Hoss, who yelped. Pa looked sharply at Hoss. “What’s wrong with you?”

Joe gazed pleadingly at Hoss, hoping his brother could read his unspoken apology.

“Uh, just a pain, Pa. Guess I ate too many biscuits,” Hoss said sheepishly. Adam snorted, and Pa glanced across the table at him. Hoss took the opportunity to wink at Joe.

Thank you, Joe mouthed silently. Aloud he said, “Want to play checkers after supper, Hoss?”

Adam just had to say it. “After your practice sums, you mean.”

“You’re not Pa!” Joe yelled.

“Joseph!” Pa snapped, and Joe glowered at his plate. Then, to his surprise, Pa added, “But he’s right, Adam, you’re not.” Adam’s mouth dropped open, and Joe almost laughed. He imagined himself sticking his tongue out at Adam, but he wasn’t that stupid. More gently, Pa said to Joe, “Checkers after sums. I may play you a game myself.”

When supper was over and the hated sums were finished, Joe set up the checkerboard. In less than half an hour, he had beaten Hoss three out of three. Adam offered to play the next game, since Pa was absorbed in the latest edition of The Territorial Enterprise. Joe had to work a little harder to beat Adam, but he did it.

“Guess you’re not the only smart one in the family,” he gloated.

Adam laughed and reached across the checkerboard to ruffle his hair. “Never said I was,” he replied.

***“Are you two at it again?” Pa shouted, coming into the barn and interrupting yet another quarrel.

Adam and Joe pointed at each other, both of them starting, “He—”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m tired of you being at each other’s throats. You, Adam—you’re the oldest. Seems you could be a little more understanding.”

“Me?” Adam demanded loudly, and Joe thought, Boy, just let me raise my voice at Pa and see how fast I’d get it. “I came in here and he was brushing Nightshade. And he wouldn’t come out of his stall when I told him to. I had to drag him out by the collar.”

Pa’s eyes hardened as he lowered his gaze on Joe. In a small voice, Joe said, “I didn’t put a bit in his mouth, Pa. Honest, I didn’t.”

“Get in the house.” Pa pointed toward the barn door. Joe fled, but first he darted a bitter look at Adam.

***

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, then started after Joe. Adam spoke from behind him. “What are you going to do, Pa?” he asked.

Ben turned back. “What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Give him a…talking to?”

“That’s right.” Ben heard the grim edge in his own voice, making it clear that he was going to do more than talk. Adam rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Pa.”

“I have to get through to him, Adam. That horse could kill him with a misplaced hoof.”

“I know.” Adam turned wistful eyes on Nightshade, who stood complacently in his stall as if he weren’t the center of all this trouble. “But I’ve been thinking…maybe I should sell him.”

“Adam, you’ve got a special bond with that horse. He’d never be happy with anyone else.”

“Yeah, but if he ever hurt Joe…Pa, I’d never forgive myself.”

“It won’t come to that,” Ben said firmly. “Joe has to learn to stay away from him, that’s all.” Suddenly he felt tired. “And it’s my job to teach him.”

“I guess so. But…well…maybe it doesn’t have to be a real talking to.”

Ben was silent, considering. “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll just talk. This time.” He studied Adam for a moment, then added, “Maybe someday he’ll appreciate what you just did for him.”

Adam smiled wryly. “I doubt it,” he said, “but it doesn’t really matter.”

***

Joe sat on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs and thumping his feet against the frame. Darn Adam. Why doesn’t he get off his high horse? At the unintentional pun, he couldn’t help giggling—but the sound was more nervous than mirthful. The quiver in his stomach grew as he heard Pa’s footsteps coming down the hall.

The door opened, and he forced himself to look into Pa’s eyes. Resigned to the inevitable, he stood up, turned around, and placed his hands on the bedspread. Hearing no movement behind him, he looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see Pa smiling ruefully. Hope rose in his chest. Was it possible that he was going to get out of this?

“Come here, son,” Pa said. Joe straightened and went over to him. Pa took him by the shoulders. “Do you understand why Adam got so angry when he saw you in that stall?”

Sure, Joe wanted to say. Because he thinks I’m a baby. Because he’s so in love with that horse that he’s jealous of anyone who touches him. Because he doesn’t believe that Nightshade could love me, too.

Aloud he said, “Because he doesn’t want me to get hurt?”

“That’s right.” Pa’s eyes softened. “We both don’t want you to get hurt. Do you believe that?”

Actually, Joe reflected, he did. He nodded.

“Good. Now you stay away from that horse. You hear?”

“Yes, sir. I hear.”

Pa gave his shoulders a little squeeze and left. Joe flopped onto the bed and stared gratefully at the ceiling. Boy, that had been close. He closed his eyes, replaying the conversation.

Now you stay away from that horse. You hear?

Yes, sir. I hear.

You hear?

I hear.

A dangerous thought crossed his mind. I said I heard him. I didn’t say…

Abruptly, he jumped up and dashed out the bedroom door and down the stairs, bent on doing a few sums before supper. He’d been granted a reprieve. Now he was going to be good if it killed him.

His resolve lasted the rest of the day.