Chapter Thirty

“Pa, it’s been more than a week.  Maybe I should go look for him,” said Joe, pacing in front of the fire.

Ben had just sat down to enjoy his pipe before he retired.  “Joseph, we have to give him time to do whatever it is he needs to do.  When he’s ready, he’ll be back.”

“What if he’s hurt and can’t get back?”

“You don’t even know where to look.”

Glancing down at a thin sliver of wood he had worked off a piece of kindling, he conceded and threw the wood into the fire.  “I’ll just feel a lot better when he’s here…with his family…where he should be.  Pa, night after night I dreamed of being home with you and Hoss and Adam.  I felt so…empty…and alone.   I…I just wanted to feel whole again…safe…the way I’ve always felt here.  I knew it would be Adam who came, but it seemed so long…I had just about given up hope.”  Joe bowed his head, taking a deep breath.  “I remember thinking the soldiers had caught Adam, and he was somewhere in that mine with me.  I remember lying there, giving myself one more day, saying one more prayer, and that’s when Mike came and got me.”  He looked back up at his father with tears in his eyes.  “It won’t be over until we’re all safe at home.”

Ben didn’t answer, but smiled slightly as he looked into the fire.  Joe was feeling what the rest of them were feeling…worry; not for some physical harm, but more because Adam seemed to have a need to come to terms with more than just the girl.  He wondered again as he had since Adam arrived home and left just what had happened during his time in the desert.

“Pa?”

“Hm?  What is it, Son?”

“I was saying goodnight.  You looked like you were a hundred miles away.”

The corner of Ben’s mouth turned up.  “I suppose I was.  Good night, Joe.”

Slowly making his way up the stairs, Joe stopped just as he turned the corner toward his bedroom when he heard the latch of the door and the unmistakable sound of Adam’s boots on the wood floor.

After spending more than a week in the northern reaches of the Ponderosa, living off the land, sitting on the mesa watching the sun rise and set, Adam Cartwright walked through the door of his father’s house. He hung his hat on the rack hanging on the wall. He carefully wrapped his gun belt around the holster, placing it on the cabinet. Then he walked to the massive fireplace, propping one foot up on the hearth, looking into the fire.

His father watched the routine he had not seen since Adam had returned from Death Valley. He stayed quiet in the leather chair next to the fireplace, patiently waiting.

Listening at the top of the stairs, Joe could barely make out some of the words as Adam and his father spoke; not enough to understand the conversation.  There was a short period when nothing was said, and Joe assumed Adam was reading the letter that had come for him and laid waiting on the table unopened for the last week.

“She was only seventeen; a child. I understand now, Pa.”

“What is it that you understand, Son?”

“How you feel; why you worry when one of us is late getting home or hurting emotionally or in physical pain. I understand why you sit next to our beds when we’re ill until you know we’re alright.”

Ben smiled. After a quiet moment he said, “A telegram came for you while you were gone. It’s from Colonel Adamson.”

Adam turned, took the letter, and sat on the hearth. He looked at the envelope for a moment, then opened it and read. When he was finished, he smiled, refolded it and put it back in the envelope.

“The lead mines have been shut down. The Captain at Fort Mojave has been imprisoned. When an accounting was made of all the Shoshoni, they were told that only one Shoshoni, a man called Tsiishchili, was not with them. Medicine will be provided to them and the Aha macave.  He said the remaining Aha macave went to Fort Mojave on their own. A man named Quaskette howa reported that other than one man and one woman, there were no more Aha macave in the desert. He couldn’t confirm whether a man called Homar huwhen and woman named Chacha hoda were dead or alive.”

“Did you know these people?” asked Ben.

“Chacha hoda means ‘beautiful ear of corn’. That was Mike’s Aha macave name.” Adam smiled. “Tsiishchili means ‘curly haired.’  Homar huwhen means ‘hairy man with short hair’.” He rose from the hearth. “Good night, Pa.”

Ben smiled knowingly as he watched Adam climb the stairs. “Good night, Son.”

Joe distinctly heard Adam say, “good night”, followed by his boots on the wooden floor again.  When the stairs creaked, he made his way to his bedroom, opened the door, and then waited inside. He heard Adam in the hallway beyond and stuck his head out the door. “Adam?”

Adam stopped and studied Joe, then nodded for Joe to join him in his room.  For a moment, they just looked at each other.  “You’re looking better,” said Adam. “What’d the doctor say?”

“He said I’ll have a few scars, but other than that, I’ll be fine with a little more rest.  The truth is, Pa’s kept me cooped up in the house all this time.  I’m ready to get back to work,” he said with a forced smile.  Taking a step forward, he looked Adam in the eye. “What about you?”

Sitting on the bed, Adam motioned to a chair and crossed his arms. “Joe, is it possible for you to believe that something good came out of this?”

Joe lowered himself into the chair. “Good?  Adam, I was at a point that I began to think the worst; that you had been found and killed or were working somewhere in that same mine;  then later, that I was only going to leave that place one way.”

“You know better than that.  Even if something had happened to me, Hoss and Pa would never have stopped looking until they found you.”

“I do know that, Adam.  That’s what made me hold on.”  The smile in Joe’s eyes told Adam that he really did know.  “But you…you became one of them.”

Adam reached back and scratched his neck. “Joe, the army patrolled the road going into the desert.  The Indians were my only choice to get to you.  Becoming…like an Indian wasn’t hard once I understood they live that way to survive.  You and I know how to survive on our own among the trees and where there’s water.  But the desert…we’ve always been wary of the desert.  Even afraid.  I’m not afraid of the desert anymore.  I can survive there thanks to the Shoshoni and the Aha macave.”

“I met an Indian in the mine.  We became friends,” said Joe, sitting with his forearms on his thighs, his hands hanging down between his legs.  “His name was Mutheel managh.  I’d always been told that the desert Indians were cruel, vicious savages, but in the mine, we were equal.  He told me how to survive.”  A deep frown came over his face.  “I didn’t see him when you brought the others back to the camp.”

“The things you’ve heard about them are only half true.  There was a reason for them to fight.  They were losing their land…their heritage.  They were being forced onto a reservation, and their children were being taken away from them.”  Adam snorted and smiled.  “They were friendly people once they knew I meant them no harm.  They shared everything they had with me.” His smile slowly faded. “There were only a few of them left when Mike and I got back to the mine.  All the others…those that came with me and those that came from the mine were already dead.”

Standing, Joe walked to the window and looked out into a night sky full of stars.  He could understand Adam risking his life to save him, but the Indians…the price was too high, and he was feeling the weight of it.  “Adam, was all that worth one man’s life?”

Adam took a deep breath, then tightened his lips into a line, finally understanding what it was about the whole situation that Joe couldn’t let go.  “Joe, you aren’t responsible for those losses.  The Aha macave were fighting a war.  You gave them an excuse to attack the soldiers at the mine.  They didn’t do that for you.  They did that for themselves.”

Dropping his head again, Joe turned, and asked quietly, “What will happen to the ones that are left?”

“The letter from Colonel Adamson said that the few who were left went to the fort.  They were the last ones in the desert.  The army will supply both tribes with the medicine that Mike had been taking them.  And the Shoshoni at the village will be allowed to stay there.  He also said the mines have been shut down, and those responsible have been punished.”

“Nolan; the man who took me?”

“I don’t know.  If he was still at the mine, he might be dead, but we may never know.”  Joe moved to the bed and sat next to his brother as Adam continued.  “I made good friends in the desert, Joe, and even though many of them died, the only thing I regret…” Looking down at the floor, he finished, “She didn’t have to die.  If she had said something when she’d been hit, she would have survived.  None of her people were with us.  I can only guess why she didn’t say anything.”  Breathing deeply, he looked in front of him at nothing in particular.  “One day, I’ll tell you about Mike.”

“Each one of us knows deep down that the others would sacrifice their lives to keep us safe.  Maybe she felt that way about you.”

“She said more than once that she didn’t belong anywhere.”

“Maybe you made her feel like she belonged somewhere.”  Adam propped his arm on his knee and raised his hand to his mouth.  “I’m glad your home,” said Joe as he squeezed Adam’s shoulder, then rose and walked to the door.  He turned around before he closed the door behind him.  “Good night.”

Adam raised his head and smiled.  “Night, Joe.”

When you were born, you cried
and the world rejoiced.
Live your life
so that when you die,
the world cries and you rejoice.
White Elk

The End