Summary:  we arrive at the fourth story from Season 15 as envisaged by the Tahoe Ladies

Rated: T  Word Count:  53000

Honor series:

Changes
Steps Forward and Back
The Most Important Job in the World
Broken Promise
Reclaimed Love
Whisper My Name
When Little Boys Grow Up
Romantic Interlude
I Do, I Do
Twenty Years
Old Shadows

Broken Promise

Chapter 1:

“But you promised me!”

 

“I know that, Sweetheart, but somebody has got to-” he started to try and explain but she would have none of his explanations.

 

“You pay people to take that sort of risk. At least that’s what you told me.” Her voice shook in anger. “Then I see you this afternoon, and realize that your promise to me means nothing. Nothing!”

 

“Listen, we need to have this conversation someplace else. Not out here in front of-“, he tried again.

 

“Why not here and now? Afraid that everyone else will find out that you lied to me? That you made an empty promise to me?” and now hot tears were coursing down her face as she struggled with her anger. When he remained silent before her, she grabbed up her long skirt and turned from him, intent on running away from him and hiding her pain. But his hand reached out to stop her. With her back still to him, Honor Cartwright brushed the hand of her husband aside and, back ramrod straight, walked away from him.

 

Joe Cartwright stood there, the blazing noonday sun hot on his shoulders. Around him though was stone cold silence, despite the fact that there were at least a dozen men that just five minutes ago had been hollering and shouting their encouragement as he rode a twisting and bucking mustang to standing truce. When the dust had settled in the corral, so had their shouts as they saw the look on the face of his wife as she slipped through the rails of the fence. The easy smile on Joe’s face had disappeared as well. And now that she had walked away from him….

 

For a long minute, he stood rooted to the ground but then he was tempted to follow her and try and make her listen to reason. He watched her go towards the house, her strides long and angry. With a small shake of his head, he looked to the dust at his feet. She shouldn’t have done that he thought, seeing her small boot prints in the dirt before him, crisscrossing the hoof prints there. Now how am I gonna turn around and face these men? Here I am their boss and I can’t control my own wife?

 

He tightened the line of his jaw, smacked his gloved hand against his thigh and turned to the other men in the corral, intent on regaining control.

 

It was as if every man there was a statue and Joe were the only live being there. He could feel the breeze as it whispered through his hair and dried the back of his neck. His shirt clung to him as he pulled his arm across his jaw, catching the trickle of sweat that ran down his face. As he did so, his eyes sought to make contact with each man there in the corral but all of them seemed to be engrossed in something else. They were all most uncomfortable with what they had just witnessed.

 

“What are you all doing just standing around?” Joe shouted, just a bit too loudly, as he struggled with the anger within him, realizing that he wasn’t angry with the men or his wife but himself. But he couldn’t let them know. “Get that other horse in the chute. Come on, we don’t have all day.” And he strode angrily to the railings of the chute, preparing to ride the next horse. The men jumped into motion as if splashed with cold water.

 

As Joe wiped the sweat from his forehead, he saw Adam’s scowl. Adam moved to his brother’s side and let his dark eyes bore into him. Since Adam’s return home the previous fall, a truce of sorts had developed between the two brothers.

 

Despite the fact that he loved and respected his younger brother, Adam found it hard not to counsel him as he had years before. What Joe saw now in his brother’s demeanor was a visible castigation of his behavior.

 

“What did you promise her, Joe?” Adam asked softly so that only Joe could hear as Adam leaned over to hold back the horse his brother was ready to break.

 

His eyes hard flints of green and his brows straight lines of anger, Joe glared at Adam. He would not answer his brother’s question. Instead he ordered the chute opened.

 

The horse exploded beneath him. Joe had been so intent on his anger that he had failed to seat himself properly and was quickly bucked from the mustang, landing hard in the dirt of the corral. When he hit, it knocked the breath from him and for just a split second, he lay stunned, watching the kicking hooves inches from his face, unable to move. But instinct developed over the years took over and Joe rolled aside. As the men grabbed the bucking horse, Joe sat up, subconsciously rubbing his shoulder. Before the dust cloud settled, Adam was beside him, helping him to his feet.

 

Hanging onto Joe’s arm, Adam asked again. “What did you promise Honor?”

 

Still massaging his sore shoulder, Joe remained silent, breathing deeply and feeling, not for the first time that day, the twinge of pain along one side of his ribcage. He had ridden two horses to a standstill that day and was sore. Sorer than he would have admitted to anyone. Now this business with Honor and the stupid promise he had made to her. Well, Adam didn’t need to butt into things.

 

“Get that damn horse back to the chute.” Joe shouted, and every man there, hearing plainly the anger and not wishing the Boss’ ire to fall on them, scurried to get the gray mustang back into the chute. Every man but Adam, who still held his brother’s arm in his vice-like grip. Joe tried to pull away but the motion put stitches up his side and Adam felt the faint shudder run through his brother’s body.

 

“You promised Honor you wouldn’t ride today, didn’t you?” Adam had hit the nail on the head and the expression in his brother’s eyes told him so.

 

“Honor doesn’t understand, Adam. Doesn’t understand what it takes. And you” he paused briefly then plunged on “don’t understand my wife.”

 

“Oh I think I understand her better than you think I do. And I understand what running this ranch takes out of you, little brother. Remember? I used to do it too. But I also understand that your marriage is far more important than any of this. What I don’t understand is you.”

 

Ignoring the pain the motion would cause him, Joe yanked his arm from his brother’s grasp and strode back to the chute and the gray mustang that had just as much anger.

 

In the end, the horse won. At least for that day.

 

Dinner that evening was a somber affair. Usually when Adam came out to the ranch from his modest home in Virginia City, conversation flowed like the fine wine about the table. Ben Cartwright still fulfilled his position as patriarch of the family and as such sat at the head of the table that evening. To his right hand still sat his youngest blood son, Joseph. To Ben’s left sat Honor and just down from her perched she and Joe’s twin sons, now just 8 months old. Adam had taken his accustomed place at the opposite end of the table from his father. Usually, the table would have been filled with others as well but Candy and his wife Ann had pleaded a prior engagement and Jamie and Cathy were still honeymooning in San Francisco.

 

Ben was not oblivious to the strained silence between Honor and Joe. When those two fought, it was most liable to be behind closed doors, with the appearance in public that all was right even when it wasn’t. But that evening, the strain was evident. Honor was paying Joe absolutely no attention and that was not normally how his daughter-in-law acted. And when Joe had come in from work that evening, he had washed up for supper at the trough, and had snagged a clean shirt from the laundry basket rather than be caught alone with Honor in their room.

 

It was almost with relief when the meal was over and Joe made the excuse that he needed to check the stock in the barn. Honor excused herself as well and took the little ones off to be nursed and put to bed. Ben and Adam found themselves heaving joint sighs as they took their coffee to the living room.

 

“What is with those two, Adam?” Ben raised his eyebrows in the direction of his eldest.

 

Adam swallowed his coffee carefully and thought a long moment before he answered his father’s question. He hated to tell his father what he had witnessed that afternoon at the corral. It smacked of tattling, almost. But with his father’s eyes boring into him, he relented.

 

“Just a bit of discord in Paradise, I imagine, Pa.”

 

Ben harrumphed into his cup. “To call it ‘a bit of discord in Paradise’ Adam is like labeling a tornado a dust cloud. I have never seen them like they are tonight. Now what happened this afternoon?”

 

Looking into his cup like it would give him the answer to Life’s mysteries, Adam cleared his throat. “Joe apparently made Honor a promise and then turned around and broke it.”

 

“And what was the promise he broke?”

 

“Why don’t you ask me, Pa, instead of Adam?” And Ben nearly spilled his coffee at the sound of Joe’s voice from the doorway. Neither he nor Adam had heard Joe approaching.

 

Taking the bull by the horns had long been Ben’s approach when dealing with this son. Even though the years and the birth of his twin sons had brought a measure of peace and contentment to Joe, the man before Ben and Adam still had a hair trigger temper. And seeing the stance of his son told Ben that Joe was close to losing the inward battle of control.

 

“All right, then, son, I will. You and Honor seem to be having some kind of a problem tonight and I was asking Adam if he knew anything about it. He said that he thought you made Honor a promise and then broke it. Deliberately?”

 

The emotions that ran across Joe’s handsome face were evident and raw. Anger, shame, sorrow. With a heavy sigh, Joe flopped his tired body onto the sofa and laid his head back across the back of it. He closed his eyes as he thought about how to answer the question put to him so directly. Ben and Adam exchanged looks, Ben’s that of concern and Adam’s one of assent.

 

“I guess you could say that, Pa. But before you go getting on your high horse, you better hear me out. I promised Honor that I wasn’t gonna break horses any more. That I would let the hired hands do it. I knew when I made the promise that I was going to have to break it.”

 

“Then why did you make it?”

 

“I have no idea,” was Joe’s quiet answer.

 

Adam pursed his lips in thought. “Then you not only broke a promise to your wife but you lied to her as well.” He admonished, slipping back into his old role.

 

Pulling himself to his feet, Joe rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands just once into fists then forced himself to relax. The pain radiating down his side would not allow him much room for motion. He and Adam had promised one another to put aside their differences so to take a heartfelt swing at his older brother would have broken that promise as well. One broken promise was all he could handle. With his eyes narrowing as he considered his brother, Joe turned silently and stalked from the room and out into the night.

 

Neither of the men remaining spoke. Within minutes, they both heard the unmistakable sound of a horse cantering away from the yard.

 

“Think I should go after him?” Adam asked, setting his cup down. “Bring him home?”

 

Before Ben could answer, the cry of one of the littlest Cartwrights could be heard from the adjoining bedroom.

 

“No, Adam. I think with our well-meaning intentions, we have meddled too far already. Just let your brother go for the time being.”

 

“But Pa…” Adam started to protest.

 

Listening to the crying of his grandson would not have normally brought a smile to Ben Cartwright’s features but that night it did. “No, Adam. Joseph will be back shortly, I’m sure.”

 

“And just what makes you so sure? He was plenty mad.”

 

With his thumb, Ben gestured in the direction of the crying. “That makes me sure.”

 

It was well past midnight when Joe Cartwright returned home. His late night ride out through the meadows and valleys that surrounded that home had given him no sense of well being. The bright moon that he watched rise over Lake Tahoe had been cold. He had let his horse wander aimlessly for a while, thinking back on the day’s events. The sheer exhilaration of feeling the bronc beneath him, battling away, might against determination; the humiliation of being upbraided by his own wife in front of the crew; the anger towards his brother’s smug words and attitude. Now as he pulled the saddle from his horse, he felt a dread settling over him. He had to go into the house, into where that same angry wife was waiting.

 

The house was dark and still, the only light coming from the moon as it shone through the windows into the huge bedroom, highlighting the slim form of Honor as she laid across the white sheets, her hair spreading in a tangle around her. As Joe stood looking down at her, she moaned softly and shifted in her sleep. He eased himself down on to the side of the bed and reached out to pull a strand of her hair from across her face.

 

Not for the first time since he had known Honor, Joe felt his heart swelling with love for this fiery woman. All he wanted right then was for her to wake up and smile at him. Tell him that she forgave him and let him take her into his arms and make love to her. But she remained asleep. Unsure now of what reception he would receive, Joe turned to the task of undressing for bed.

 

She had awoken when he sat down on the edge of the bed. Honor didn’t know what to make or do about the situation and, as always when faced with such a decision, she made none at all. So she simply watched her husband through her lashes, feigning sleep. She had done the unpardonable this afternoon by flying off the handle at him in front of the men who worked for him, causing him to lose face. Worse yet, if he had simply come to her later and said anything, anything at all, she would have forgiven him. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had avoided her. And, oh so stupidly, she had avoided him. It had been in her mind that when she went in to put the boys to bed that he would have followed her. But he hadn’t, going to the barn on some fool errand. Honor had heard the murmur of voices on the other side of the wall as she had held her sons, one after the other, to her breasts to feed and felt for sure that Joe would soon be in and they could talk things out. But he hadn’t done that either. Finally, with her two sons in their crib across the room, she had disrobed and lain down, waiting. Now in the white moonlight, she watched him with unrepentant desire.

 

The years had been kind to Joseph Cartwright, she thought. His body was still lean and muscular, his belly still flat and his thighs hard. Just as he had been when they had first met those many years before. As he slid into bed next to her, she felt his hands reaching for her as they always did. But tonight there was hesitancy.

 

“I know you’re awake Honor,” came his whisper, right next to her ear, so close she could feel its warmth. “Honor, please, talk to me.”

 

She said nothing.

 

He ran his hand down her arm. “Please, Sweetheart,” he pleaded but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue, but there were tears forming in her now closed eyes and they threatened to spill down to the pillow.

 

Joe put his arm over her soft belly and tried to pull her to him, curling her into him but she wouldn’t budge. Once more he said her name softly but she refused to acknowledge him. His heart heavy, he pulled his hands from her and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, his forearm across his forehead.

 

“Honor, I’m sorry. I made you a promise and I didn’t keep it. I could give you a hundred different excuses why I didn’t but they would be just that: excuses. Maybe you could give me another chance?”

 

With the lightest of touches, Honor let her hand float across his bare chest, stopping to rest finally over his heart. His hand closed over hers gently and raised it to his lips where she felt his lips caress her fingers. With her hand still held to his lips, she felt more than heard him whisper “Thank you.”

 

“I see big brother Adam stayed the night last night. Why doesn’t he just give up on that house in town and move back here?” Joe observed as he sat down to breakfast with his father the following morning.

 

Ben raised his eyebrows, letting his eyes wander over his son, looking for a sign that the unpleasantness from the night before was gone. There was no outward sign, and Ben thought he would keep silent, although it still perturbed him.

 

“Maybe he will someday, Joseph, but until that time I would appreciate your taking a more cordial tone with your brother. Did it ever occur to you that it hurts your brother to be here? That you have everything that Adam always wanted? A beautiful wife who loves you. Sons. Maybe he envies you, Joseph. And that hurts him.”

 

Joe snorted with derision. “That is the first time I ever heard those words all put together that way: Adam, envying me! Come on, Pa.” But even as he spoke the words, he realized that maybe his father had been right. He saw his father just shake his head.

 

They were just finishing up when Adam came down the stairs to join them at the table.

 

“Going to go back to busting those broncs today, Joe?” he asked, trying to sound innocent as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

 

“Don’t start, Adam,” Joe warned as he got to his feet, throwing his napkin to the table, grabbing a last swallow of coffee and heading for the door.

 

Adam grimaced at the tone his brother had used, realizing he was wrong to have brought up the subject. He had no idea where things stood between Joe and Honor. He hoped that the two of them had patched things up but had not a clue. When his brother was gone from the house, Adam just raised his eyebrow in a questioning manner to his father.

 

“I have no idea, son. He was coming in from the barn when I came downstairs to breakfast. I surmise that it isn’t good. Usually when Joe and Honor have a spat, Joe is late getting out the next morning.” Ben didn’t need to comment further. Adam chuckled at the thought of his brother and that fiery red head wife of his ‘kissing and making up’. Would be like trying to douse a range fire with a single bucket of water.

 

“But if I were you, Adam, I would stay out of their private lives. Let them solve their own problems.” Ben cautioned.

 

“I just don’t want to see Honor hurt, Pa, that’s all. And what Joe did yesterday was inexcusable as far as I am concerned.”

 

“That may be true but it needs to stay between them. I don’t want Honor hurt either. She means a lot to me but I know she means more to your brother and I don’t think he would intentionally hurt her. It had to have been a misunderstanding. End of discussion.”

But Adam couldn’t let it end, at least not in his thoughts. He had intended to spend the day with his father and the rest of the family but the corrals and his brother’s situation kept calling him subconsciously. So after he finished his breakfast and paid Hop Sing the necessary compliments for a fine meal, he wandered down to where his brother would be: down breaking broncs.

 

Since his return the previous fall, Adam had kept busy running the newest addition to the family empire: the Sacramento Los Rios Freight Line. He had managed to take the poorly run operation in hand and it was just beginning to show some profits. But it had taken a lot of hard work and financial finagling to do so. The delicate balance of debts and assets was often threatened in that first winter. Through it all, Adam had kept his father’s counsel, realizing with a start one afternoon that his father had had no idea just who the real purchaser of the freight line had been. Not the family as his father believed, and not Adam but Joe. And then Joe had sold it to Adam for a dollar, taking installment payments of a beer every once in a while down at the Bucket of Blood when ranch duties allowed him an hour in town. The understanding was clear from the beginning: Adam was to run the freight line while Joe ran the ranch. Each would stay out of the other’s way and not interfere. Adam had not told his father about the set up, preferring that to remain secret. Not that his father would have been upset by it in the least. He just thought that it was best that way.

 

Now, that hot summer morning, he was ready to stick his nose into something far more volatile than the running of the ranch. He would make Joe see that he was wrong to treat Honor’s wishes so callously and with such disrespect. After their first encounter, Honor and Adam had become friends, strained at first since she had held him to the ground with a gun centered very evenly on him. But the esteem between them had grown. To see her upset and angry made him angry. His father’s words now all but ignored, Adam approached the railing of the corral, expecting to see his brother on the whirling horse within.

 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Joe at all. Another hand was unceremoniously dumped to the dirt by the ugly brown mare. Joe was across the way, perched in the top railing of the corral, his shoulders forward, elbows resting on his knees, his hat thrown back on his head as he watched the proceedings. Adam circled the corral and came to stop at his brother’s side. Like Joe, Adam swung up to sit on the rail and watch.

 

The brown mare was brought back to chute again and the same lanky cowboy climbed onto her back. When the chute opened, the horse took two bounding hops and the cowboy flew from her back. The mare stopped dead in her tracks and shook like a dog just getting out of the rain. Around the perimeter, the watching men laughed. All but Joe, who never even cracked a smile.

 

“Hey Charlie. Get a hold of that horse, now. Give her to Pete to break.” Joe ordered, then climbed down inside of the corral. Adam couldn’t help but notice the way his brother moved. Any other time, Joe would have jumped down from the perch but that time he hadn’t.

 

In a flash it came to Adam. Yesterday when Adam had gone into the corral to help Joe to his feet, he had felt Joe shudder just a bit. Last night when he had arisen from the sofa, Adam had seen something cross his brother’s face. And now, his slowed and cautious movements. Joe was trying to hide the fact that he was in pain. Swinging down behind Joe, Adam caught his brother’s shoulder to stop him from walking away. When Joe quickly turned around, Adam saw him bite his lower lip. But then the expression was gone just as swiftly.

 

He stepped closer to Joe and looked into his brother’s green eyes for a long moment.  “Why haven’t you told Honor you’re hurt?” he asked softly, nearly a whisper. When Joe made no reply, Adam continued pressing his point. “What is it, your shoulder? Your back? Ribs? Come on, Joe. You can’t hide it forever.”

 

“Adam, please. There are another half dozen horses to break to fill that Army contract. You just saw our ‘best rider’ get dumped by a lousy nag. The Army will be here inside of a week to collect those horses and they are no where near ready. I have to handle this, Adam. There is no one else to do it. So it doesn’t matter that my side hurts or I’m stiff and sore. I have got to do this.”

 

“Even though you promised your wife…” Adam started again but Joe exploded before Adam got the rest of his sentence out. The left hook that Adam had taught his brother years before caught him full on the jaw and staggered him back into the corral railing. He shook his head to clear his vision and was surprised to see Joe on his knees in the dirt, doubled over in pain, his arms wrapped around his chest. Argument forgotten in a flash, he went to his brother’s side.

 

“Joe,” Adam called, letting one hand slide along Joe’s back and placing the other beneath his waist to try and support his brother’s slim frame. He felt the stuttering breath Joe took and was relieved when Joe leaned into him. But just as quickly, Joe pulled away and lifting his head, tried to stand. Adam could see the beads of sweat running down his clenched jaw line. Joe let Adam help him to his feet but once there, tried to push the helping hands away.

 

“I’m all right now.” But he still had one arm wrapped around his ribcage and was breathing shallow ragged breaths. As Adam watched his face, he saw his brother’s expression go from pain filled tightness to anger. He pulled his hands from his brother’s body but not far.

 

“Leave me be Adam.” Joe hissed, then seeing the men standing around watching them, ordered “Back to work. What? Ain’t any of you ever seen two men fight before? Come on, these horses aren’t gonna break themselves.” And started to walk towards the corral. He never made it even one step. Something exploded in white-hot pain in his chest and with a gasp he fell back heavily into Adam’s waiting arms.

 

Adam slowly and gently eased him back down onto the hard ground. Joe’s eyes were open but unfocused as Adam screamed for someone to run to the house for Honor. As he watched, all the color drained from the younger man’s face and his hands came to grab at the front of his now heaving chest, Joe clenching at his own shirt front. With a soft groan, Joe’s head fell back and his eyes closed and he lay still as death.

 

Adam was still cradling his brother’s body when Honor knelt before him, her hands reaching for her husband. Reluctantly, Adam laid him back to the ground, unaware of just when he had snatched him up. With one swift motion, Honor had pulled Joe’s shirt open, brushing aside the hands that last night had been so intent upon pleasing her. She laid her ear to his chest, praying that she would hear his heart still beating and feel him still breathing. When she felt his chest rise beneath her cheek, relief flooded her soul, even though she couldn’t hear his heart beating. She sat back and put her hand up to cover her quivering lips, sending a quick prayer heavenward.

 

When Ben had heard the hired hand shouting for Honor, he had been upstairs and had only heard the noise, not the words. He had followed a bit behind her out the door and down to the corrals. He got there just as she had put her hand over her mouth and saw the tears on her face as she leaned over the body of his son. He could see the stricken, ashen expression on Adam’s face as well

 

Oh God no he thought, no, no, and he dropped to his knees beside Adam, too dazed to stand any longer. He looked at the prone body before him, seeing fine sheen of sweat that covered his youngest son’s naked chest as well as the dark mottling of bruises down one side and spreading like a fan over one shoulder. As if from a distance, he could hear Adam shouting orders to the gathered men for a stretcher of some sort, to get a wagon, to get his brother to the house. In horror, he saw Honor put a hand out and clutch at Adam’s arm but, through the roar in his own ears, couldn’t hear the words she spoke. The expression on her face spoke volumes, total and complete abject loss accompanying fear.

 

“Send someone into town for Paul Martin, Adam. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t be his doctor right now. I need to be his wife.” She stammered and Adam understood

The long fingers of night were reaching across the eastern mountaintops, grasping the valleys below in silent oppressive darkness. No breezes stirred the still air. No insects chirped and birdsong died with the last of the light. There was but one star visible in the dark sky and although it shone brightly, for those below, it was not bright enough.

 

It had been long hours since Joseph Cartwright had been carried into the house he had been born in and laid in the same bed where just months earlier his own twin sons had been born. During those hours, Honor had refused to leave his side, convinced that as long as she stayed with him, he would live. Paul Martin came, surprised at being summoned to the Ponderosa since Honor was a capable physician herself. But upon seeing her face when he arrived, he took control. As it were, he had the ominous duty of telling the other members of the family.

 

“Looks like he has taken some bad spills in the last week or so but that is the least of his problems right now. From what I can tell, seems Joe has had a heart attack. The fact that he survived the initial seizure bodes well for him. Beyond that…” and the good doctor just let the words hang in the still air. He saw Adam’s hand come over the top of his father’s shoulder and come to rest there, giving support as Ben’s shoulders sagged. Over in the corner, he saw Ann’s head bend over the baby she held close to her breast and Candy lean forward to her. Hop Sing held the other baby as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen and slowly shook his head as he listened.

 

“What can we do?” Adam asked, afraid of the answer he might receive.

 

“For your brother, pray maybe. But beyond that, nothing really, Adam. For Honor, plenty. She needs to rest and I know that she won’t unless one of you makes her. Honor can be a right tough woman but should she lose Joe and the baby too.” He stopped his worried monologue when he saw the puzzled look on their faces. “I am going to gather that none of you knew she was pregnant again.”

 

The shared glances between all present spoke loudly but the only voice heard was Adam’s. “I wonder if Joe knows.”

 

Beyond the room where the doctor was meeting with the family he had known for so long, Honor Cartwright curled beside her husband’s still body. She reclined so that she could rest her head over his, her hand over his heart, his head to her breast. For long moments she would drift off into memories, private and pleasant ones shared with the man beside her. But then would have to bring herself back to the present and the thoughts of a possible future without him. Finally, as much as she fought it, sleep claimed her.

 

When Ben slipped quietly into the room not long after the doctor had gone to rest, he found Honor sleeping, but her cheeks were still wet with tears. He hated to wake her. So much rested on her now: the two little boys she had given birth to in the winter just passed and the life she carried within her again. Should his son not survive, and Ben’s own heart was heavy with the thought, those children would be the last of his and Marie’s love that he would see this side of Heaven’s gates. Odd, he thought to himself, that he should be thinking of the children. Honor would be devastated by it all but there was something in her that Ben knew would keep her going. But first, as Paul had said, she needed to rest.

 

Adam came into the room at his father’s first call and upon seeing Honor curled there so much like a child herself, easily lifted her into his arms. She stirred only a little as she nestled to his chest, calling him by his brother’s name.

 

“I’ll take her upstairs, Pa. You stay with Joe.”

 

It was a marvelous dream Honor was having. Joe held her in his arms, warm against his chest, just like that afternoon so long ago up by Lake Tahoe while they were courting. His voice, low and soothing, his hands firm on her. She reached up to touch his lips, his face, letting a yearning show on her face. But the face was wrong somehow. More angular, and there was a coarseness there Joe never had. With a terrified jerk, she awoke.

 

Leaning over her was her brother in law and he held her hand in his just inches from his face, his eyes dark pools.

 

“Adam,” she gasped, realizing horribly what she had been dreaming had overlapped reality. Then reality returned full force to her and she quickly sat up, finding herself in the upstairs guestroom. Shaking with fear she began to cry “Joe, no, please no, Joe?” for the only reason she could fathom being taken from him was that he no longer lived.

 

Quickly seeing the distress of his sister in law, Adam gathered her into his embrace, trying to calm her. “Honor, it’s okay. Honor, listen to me. You have got to calm down. Honor, please, it is okay.” He kept saying to her over and over again but he doubted if she heard him through her sobs. Finally he took her roughly by the shoulders and made her look at him. “Joe is okay, Honor but you have to calm down, I just brought you up here so you could rest easily. That’s all. Now get a grip on yourself.”

 

Two wild emotions rushed over her one after the other: the first relief that her husband still lived and, secondly, anger that she had been taken from his side. She jerked her body from Adam’s hands and strode with angry steps out the bedroom door, down the hall and down the stairs. He followed her and caught her just as she gained the main room. Rougher than he intended to, he grabbed at her arm and swung her around to face him. She raised her hand and smacked his face full force. He let her go at once but she didn’t move from in front of him. Honor, her chest heaving from the exertion, blue eyes afire with anger, raised her shaking hand as though to hit him again but stayed the blow.

 

“Don’t you or anyone else ever, EVER, take me from my husband’s side again. Is that clear?” she screamed, giving vent to her rage and frustration. And with that she whirled and continued her single-minded trek to her husband.

 

Adam stood dumbfounded, his hand caressing his jaw. The odd thought ran through his head that he had been hit twice today, once by his brother’s fist out by the corrals and the second time by his sister in law just now. Funny, he thought to himself, Honor’s hurts worse.

 

Somewhere off in the distance, as if muffled by thick cotton, Joe heard the crying of one of his sons. Sounded like AJ to him as the little dark haired boy named for his brother Adam and himself rarely gave a full-throated roar to the world, completely unlike his brother. Hoss, originally named for his father and other brother, had a wail that could bring the house down around his ears and thought nothing of doing so, especially in the middle of the night. Since their birth some months ago, a routine had developed with the boys and their parents for that infamous middle of the night feeding.

 

Since Hoss always awoke his parents first, Joe would take him, change him into dry diapers then slip him into bed for Honor to nurse while he performed the same for AJ, the more quieter of the two. When Hoss was done and falling back asleep, Honor would feed AJ while Joe rocked his brother. Many a night, they would all wind up asleep together, the two little ones on their parents chests, covered over and warm. Joe had almost hated it when they started sleeping through the night. Almost. But their sleeping in their own shared crib allowed he and Honor a resumption to married life. And a full night’s sleep. Now he could hear one of his boys crying but couldn’t move to get out of bed and go to him. More distressing was the fact that he couldn’t feel Honor next to him. Had she gotten up to tend to the baby? If so, why was he still crying? Just as quickly as the crying had started, it stopped. Joe pushed at his eyelids one more time, trying to get them open.

 

He saw Honor sitting in the rocking chair, pulled close to the side of the bed, her shirtwaist open and the head of his oldest son at her breast, avidly nursing. There were tracks of tears on her face but she wasn’t looking at him but down at their son cradled in her arms. How often had he seen her like that since their birth? So many times he had lost count but it never failed to move him. Unwilling to break the magic spell before him, Joe simply laid and watched them.

 

When the child had had his fill, Honor started to pull him away. She glanced towards the bed, as if by reflex for this was when they usually swapped babies, she and Joe. Words couldn’t express the joy she felt when she saw her husband’s green eyes watching her intently.

 

“Your daddy is awake, Hoss. Want to go snuggle with him while I fed AJ?” and half-fearful, she moved the big baby onto the bed, laying him beside his father. She would have normally laid the child on Joe’s chest, but considering the events just hours old, opted instead for beside him. As she sat back down, ready to nurse AJ, she was surprised to see that Joe was still awake and still watching her. He reached to the expanse beside him and patted it, using up a great deal of the strength he had left. Without a second thought, Honor moved over to that spot and leaning back amongst the pillows, took her second son to her breast to nurse, taking Joe’s hand and laying it on the bigger boy’s back. At peace with her world, Honor watched as all three of her men fell to sleep.

 

She awoke to the delicious smell of coffee not far from her nose. Honor sniffed once then flicked her eyes open immediately. There not six inches from her face, her father in law held a steaming cup from whence the aroma came. She hastily checked to her side, looking for the babies that were there when she had fallen asleep and didn’t find them.

 

Ben read the expression in her eyes and nodded towards the crib where the two littlest Cartwrights lay playing with sunbeams. Rising to her elbow, she checked on Joe and saw that although he slept, there was no sign of pain or discomfort. Ben caught that little by play as well and reached out to take her hand, pulling her away gently. She went with him as far as the rocker pulled to the bedside.

 

“How are you this morning, Honor?” Ben asked, pushing the cup into her hands.

 

Ignoring his question, Honor sipped the coffee and said, “Joe woke in the night as I was feeding the babies. Seemed to know where he was and what was happening around him.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that. I came in just at dawn and found you four asleep like a batch of puppies, all curled up around one another. I was the one who put the boys back into their crib. I hope you don’t mind.” Ben kept his voice low and soft, not wanting to wake his son.

 

Honor leaned back into the rocker and sipped at her coffee as Ben stepped back over to the crib and looked down on his infant grandsons.

 

These boys will be a handful one day, he thought. No, they already were and the large extended family they had been born into would make sure they wanted for nothing. Early on, Joe and Honor had tried to put their foot down about dealing with their two little boys. Ben had remembered one lighthearted conversation of not long ago when Joe had commented that as far as he was concerned, there would be no spoiled Cartwrights and then he had watched as Joe had given into Honor’s wish concerning a trivial matter. No spoiled Cartwright, my eye. Honor was one if I ever saw one. Then he secretly chastised himself for Joseph had been a spoiled child as well.

 

Looking down into the crib, he marveled again at the two boys. Twins but so different from one another. Benjamin Eric, more commonly known by all as “Hoss” was a big strapping baby now and had always been such. Born first, he had the loudest cry of any child Ben had ever known. He was also the first to rise to his wobbly knees and start crawling, just as bent on getting into things as any small child. When upset, which was rare, everyone paid attention and would cheerfully give him back to one of his parents. For no one but Honor or Joe could calm him.

 

Little AJ was a different child altogether. As he developed from the tiny struggling infant into a stronger but still small baby, Ben had wondered about him. He was quiet, preferring to sit in a lap and watch sun beams or flames than interact with people the same way his brother did. Just as Hoss was a fair haired and blue eyed child, AJ was dark, having his father’s deep brown curls and green eyes. Ben had remembered Joseph at that age and thought that apple hadn’t fallen too far from that tree, so much were Joseph and AJ alike.

 

Ben reached out his finger to Hoss and was rewarded with the child’s strong grasp and a little gurgle of contentment. He felt Honor come to his side and looked briefly at his daughter-in-law. She looks tired, he thought. Too tired to be dealing with all of this.

 

“Why don’t we take these fellows out into the dining room and see about some breakfast, hmm?” Ben encouraged.

 

Honor shook her head. “No I want to stay with Joe.”

 

The voice of Paul Martin cut in behind them. “No, you go on while I check on my patient.”

 

She started to protest but the doctor put a hand to her shoulder and simply glared at her. His words were addressed to Ben though. “And I thought Joe was the stubborn one.”

 

“All right, I’ll go but I want a full report.” Honor would have one too.

 

Once into the dining room, each carrying a little one, Ben closed the door so Honor couldn’t hear or see into the room behind them. With a nudge, he moved her to the table Hop Sing had set for breakfast. More from reflex than desire, Honor sat at her accustomed place at Ben’s left hand, Hoss in her lap. The child reached up and pulled at his mother’s robe, the feel of her breast stimulating his appetite. She took the small grasping hands in hers and held them but the child began to squirm and whimper.

 

“Not now, little one.” She leaned over his head and whispered but Ben had heard it. Usually when his grandsons needed feeding, Honor and the babies would disappear. Never once had Ben ever seen Honor nurse her boys in public as he had seen other women do. He was proud that his daughter-in-law had that much sophistication but watching his grandson that morning wondered who was going to win. Honor continued to try and hold the baby’s questing hands in one of hers while she picked up a slice of toast in the other, and kept half of her attention on the door behind her.

 

Finally, she had to give in to the little hands as well as her own growing discomfort. “Excuse me, Father Ben,” and she started to rise from the table.

 

Keeping his attention on his other grandson to avoid embarrassing Honor, Ben spoke softly. “Marie loved to sit in the big leather chair and nurse Joseph. She always claimed the arms were just the right height and the soft cushions made her feel like she was being hugged. I guess that’s why I took that to be my chair when she was gone. Remembering how beautiful she looked with my son at her breast sitting there.” He felt more than saw Honor hesitating. “Go on, Honor. I promise you no one will bother you. Or your sons.”

 

The minutes ticked by slowly. Ben continued to eat his breakfast, AJ enthroned on his lap while Honor sat in the red leather chair in the living room, Hoss having his breakfast as well. When Ben had finished, he poured more coffee into a cup and carried it into the living room with his now squirming grandson. He had moved so quietly that Honor, her eyes closed, had not heard him until he was right at her elbow, setting down the cup on the side table for her. With a start, her eyes jerked open and she made a half motion to cover her exposure. But Ben stopped her hand with his.

 

“Honor, what you are doing is the most natural thing in the world. And for me, the most gratifying as well. I want to see my grandsons happy and content, completely at peace with their surroundings. Don’t you understand? To be able to watch you and my grandchildren is why I fought so long and so hard to build the Ponderosa. I wanted them to be safe and happy here. Originally, I thought it was for my sons but the more I watch these little ones, I have come to realize that it was more for them. They won’t have to know the trials and tribulations that their father and their uncles went through to get the ranch to what it is today. So just continue, Honor. You have nothing to be embarrassed about nursing your children when I am present. For me it is kind of the fulfillment of a long held dream.”

 

Honor smiled at her indulgent father-in-law. “Must be something in your Cartwright blood. Joe loves to watch feeding time too. I think we need to change boys, here, Grandpa. Hoss isn’t quite so interested and I can tell by the way AJ is watching, he thinks he is getting shorted.”

 

Once the child swap had been made and Ben was hugging his chunky little boy to his shoulder, he smiled most gratefully at his daughter in law but felt he needed to address two very large problems at hand. He settled onto the square table, just an arm’s length from her.

 

“Honor, you and I need to talk about some things. Some very serious things. First off, Paul told us last night that you are pregnant again. Is that so?”

 

As he had expected her head snapped up and those blue eyes of hers blazed like sapphire jewels. “So much for doctor-patient confidentiality!” she snapped.

 

“Last night, young lady, you were on the verge of being a patient in pretty serious shape as well as Joseph and I am sure that Paul felt it wise to let us know your condition. So don’t go getting upset with him.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’m not. Not really. It’s just that-” and as her pause stretched out Ben filled it in.

 

“Joe doesn’t know yet, does he?” and when he saw her just shake her head, he continued questioning her gently. “When is the baby due, Honor?”

 

She brushed at the curls on AJ’s head, watching him with love and fascination. “Early next spring. I’m not that far along, Father Ben.”

 

“Well, I think the smart thing to do would be to tell him as soon as possible. That will give him something to strive for in his recovery. Don’t you agree?”

 

“That is if-” she started and Ben quickly silenced her.

 

“No! There will be none of that talk, Honor. You two have so much to live for that to think otherwise is…” and Ben floundered for the right word but Honor held her ground.

 

“Father Ben, as much as you want it to be, it may not happen that way. I am his wife but I am also a physician and I know better than you do just what is going on behind that door. And it scares me.”

 

“It scares me just as much, Honor. And that’s the other thing I wanted to talk with you about. Some things need to change around here and I need you to help me make those changes.”

 

“Like what? What can I do?”

 

“One thing I am going to do is ask Adam to come and take over the running of the ranch. That is going to rankle Joe pretty bad so I need you to help him see that it is the smart thing to do for right now. It’s going to hurt his pride, Honor. But I can’t run the ranch now; it’s just too big for one man alone to handle. Adam is the logical choice. He and Jamie will handle things well together, I believe.”

 

“No, I won’t do it! How long has he run things here? And it wasn’t that long ago that you sat right here in this chair and praised him for it. Now you’re going to take it away from him and you want me to help you? That will kill him and you know it. ” Honor flared and pulled her small son from her breast and put him to her shoulder.

 

“Honor I think just the opposite has almost happened. Joe has carried the burden on his own shoulders for too long and when you add the strain of being a new father, it was just too much.”

 

“Nonsense”, she shot back but a small voice inside her said he was right but she plunged on anyway “You ran this ranch as a new father.”

 

“No,” he tried speaking softly, hoping to get her back under control, “when my boys were little things, this ranch wasn’t even half this size, half this complex. My worries back then were minor compared to what your husband has handled day in and day out over the past few years.”

 

“But you sat here and praised him for it and now you intend to take that away from him? Just like that? Father Ben, I can’t believe I am hearing you right! Joe lives for this ranch! For all that it means to you! To all of us!” And the baby in her arms began to squirm, feeling her rage. For a moment her attention was diverted to the child.

 

“Honor, answer me this: What good does prosperity, this ranch, do when it would take these little ones’ father away from them forever? Joe needs to get his priorities straight in all of this now. If I turn the running of the ranch over to Adam and Jamie, Joe just may have the chance to be the good father I know he is capable of being.”

 

“Are you saying that he hasn’t been?” she asked incredulous at what she had heard.

 

“No, not at all. It is just that I want to see him live long enough to enjoy his sons the same way I have mine. And if he persists in driving himself now that he has had this.. this..problem, he may not,” Ben reasoned but saw no look of agreement on Honor’s face.

 

“Just say the words, Father Ben. Joe has had a heart attack. Had. The fact that he is alive now says a lot. He is strong. His heart is strong. He-” and Honor’s words caught in her throat.

 

Ben lifted his gaze to meet hers. “But if he doesn’t change some of the things he is doing, another one may very well kill him. You yourself not five minutes ago expressed a hesitancy over his recovery.”

 

She was caught in her own trap, she knew. What her father in law had said was right. Joe needed to change. “But he is so proud of what he has done here.”

 

“Joseph’s pride will not give love and support to his children from the grave,” Ben whispered as the baby he held to his chest began to rub his tiny cheek against his grandfather’s shoulder, seeking reassurance. Ben rubbed the baby’s back, dwarfed by his own hand. “Honor, please,” he pleaded softly, “Just as you feel the need to love and protect these sons of yours, I have the same need to love and protect my sons. Would you do anything or allow your children to put themselves in harm’s way? Of course not. You would step in and stop that from happening. That is the same thing I am trying to do here. And the same way that sometimes you need help with Hoss and AJ, I need help with Joseph.”

 

“But these are babies, Father Ben. Joe is-”

 

Ben interrupted her. “Joseph is my baby. You see him as a man but in my heart, he is still my baby boy, my Little Joe.”

 

“All right,” she said softly, looking at the child she held in her arms.”But he isn’t going to like it.”

 

“Honor, Joseph has never liked following orders, his doctor’s or his father’s-”

 

“Or his wife’s,” she added.

 

“Or his wife’s,” Ben agreed with a small smile. “But with the lot of us ganging up on him, he may be forced to.”

 

She sighed and made herself look into the chocolate brown eyes of a man she had come to look upon as more than her husband’s father. He was the father she had never had. “All right,” she repeated her assent, “I don’t like it either but for all of our babies, yours and mine Father Ben, I’ll go along.”

 

Ben had never had more pride in his fiery daughter-in-law than with those last three words.

 

It seemed to Honor that the gentle breeze coming through the open windows was like the breath they had all held being let go in a long sigh. She pulled her hair away from her hot neck and leaned away from the window and its view of the mountains. From the corner of her eye, she watched her husband.

 

“The sky certainly is blue today. And not a cloud in it. Almost wish there was one so I could think of rain for a change. You know you never told me a thing about how hot it could get here in the summertime when we were courting, “she babbled, aware that the only reason why she did it was so there would be some sound there with her. Even though his eyes were open and he seemed to watching her, Joe had yet to utter a single sound. The doctor in Honor wondered if it was the result of the heart attack, a small stroke that may have accompanied it. Or was it just the result of his struggling to breathe sometimes?

 

She turned from the window and crossed to sit beside him on the bed, taking his hand in hers. Honor struggled within herself, trying not to judge her husband’s physical condition with her medical knowledge. Finally she gave in. Pale, doesn’t take a deep breath, heartbeat still erratic, sluggish one minute, racing the next. Seems to be extremely tired. But he is alive, thank God.

 

“How about a little something to eat?” she asked, turning the hand in hers over so she could stroke the back of it. “Or how about some of Hop Sing’s lemonade?”

 

Without waiting for an answer, she got up and left the room, only to return moments later with a pitcher of the proffered drink and a glass. Taking up her position again beside him, she poured a little of the lemonade into the glass.

 

“Let’s get you set up a bit, here,” and she struggled to pull him more upright but his dead weight was more than what she could handle on her own.

 

“Let me help you,” Adam called from the doorway. He quickly crossed to the side of the huge bed and easily pulled his brother’s body up so that it reclined on the pillows Honor tucked behind him. “Must say, little brother, not only have you put on muscle over the past few years but a little weight too!” Adam teased, hoping to draw a response from Joe. It didn’t.

 

Putting the glass to his lips, Honor tried to get Joe to drink on his own. The desire was in his eyes but he couldn’t command his mouth to open.

 

“Here, Honor. I’ll get his mouth open and you tip it up so he can have some.”

 

Between Honor and Adam, they managed to get a few swallows into Joe. But there was more spilled on the sheets. Both of them laughed nervously about it as Honor wiped at Joe’s chin.

 

“Looks like he needs one of the twin’s bibs,” Adam retorted then wished he hadn’t for the look in his brother’s eyes showed no mirth.

 

“How about a little more, Joe?” Honor offered but Joe wanted none of it and he did the only thing he was capable of doing to show his displeasure: he closed his eyes, shutting out them both.

 

The long hours kept in silent vigil, the pain in her own heart overriding her resolve to be positive, it all gave way in Honor at the sight of the single tear that streamed down Joe’s cheek. Her own face crumpled.

 

Swiftly, Adam pulled her from the bed and to the window. He pitched his voice low, not wanting Joe to hear what he had to say but wanting Honor to hear clearly.

 

“Pull yourself together!” he commanded sharply. He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. He could see the fine lines, the deepening shadows around her blue eyes that told of a lack of sleep. “When was the last time you slept more than an hour? No don’t answer that question! Have you ever heard ‘Physician, heal thyself’? It fits here very well.”

 

“But Adam, I can’t-” she started.

 

“You have to, Honor. Tell you what, you go take a long nap and I’ll stay here with him.” he offered and was not surprised to see the iron come back into her.

 

“Fine. I’ll take a nap but I will do it here. Where I belong. Next to him. I told you that before.”

 

He rubbed at the side of his jaw and smiled down at her. “I remember that conversation very plainly.”

 

“Good. If not, I am sure I could give you a refresher, Adam Cartwright. Now if you will excuse me,” and she pulled her arm from his grasp.

 

Wisely, Adam left her alone, leaving the quiet room for the front porch and his father’s company.

 

“Pa,” Adam greeted simply, sitting down in the chair across from his father there on the porch. “What are we gonna do?”

 

Ben looked up from the book in his hands and laid his pipe aside. “I’ve been thinking along those same lines, son. And I have come to only one conclusion: You need to step in and take control of the ranch again. I can’t do it. I need to be here for your brother. For Honor. For the little ones when everyone else seems to forget them. Although that is a tad hard to do when they cry.”

 

Adam smiled, thinking of the loud wails he had heard from the two infants. Yes, it would be hard to ignore them! “But Pa, I can’t do it alone.”

 

“You don’t have to, Adam. Any more than I had to years ago. I always had the three of you to help me. You have a capable foreman in Candy and Jamie should be home from his honeymoon in a few days. But they all need direction to do their job. You can do that very well as I recall.”

 

“That wasn’t really what I had in mind when I asked what we were going to do.”

 

“Oh?” Ben queried, his still dark brows arching slightly.

 

“I meant what we’re gonna do if Joe-” and Adam’s voice strangled itself on the strong emotion the thought of his brother dying brought to him.

 

“I’ve given that a great deal of thought too. A good bit of prayer as well,” Ben answered.

 

“And?”

 

“Truthfully? I don’t know.”

 

“What about Honor? You know her better than I do. Her world is all wrapped up in Joe. If he dies, she looses her anchor.”

 

Ben narrowed his eyes and assessed the man who was his eldest child. But not as the man but as the teenager whose stepmother had just died. “Just like I did when I lost Marie,” he said, a trace of hurt showing despite the years.

 

“Yes. Pa, back then, I was a kid. I was just a kid and I was just coming to understand a lot about life. I didn’t understand what you were going through. I don’t think I can fully understand it even now.”

 

“No, you can’t, son. Not until you have given your life over to another person, can you understand what it is like to lose like that. It is like someone empties you out and makes you hollow. You breathe, you eat, you drink. But it means nothing to you any longer. You want to die but you don’t want to die. Son,” and Ben reached across the table and placed his hand on Adam’s arm, drawing Adam’s attention away from the grain of the table he had been studying. “I don’t think I ever said it and I should have. Long ago. Thank you for being my anchor when she died.”

 

A little embarrassed as always by strong emotions, Adam attempted to brush it aside. “I didn’t do anything except take care of my little brothers.”

 

A familiar smile came to his father’s face that Adam hadn’t seen in a long time. “That was enough. In fact it was more than enough when you consider that you also stepped up and took over the running of the ranch for a while. Once again, thank you.”

 

“But Pa,” and Adam took to studying the tabletop again before he continued, “It was so hard to do then. And that was when I didn’t know any better. Now I know so much more-”

 

“That’s right. You do, Adam and you need to put that knowledge to work again. I want your hand on the tiller so the ship won’t run aground for the very same reason now as then: so when everything is over and done with, there is a Ponderosa for the next generation. I need your level head and cool logic to accomplish that.”

 

Adam lifted his gaze from the table and studied his father. “For the next generation. I never looked at it like that but that is what it is all about, isn’t it? Then the same as now. We never do for ourselves but for our children.”

 

Ben nodded slowly, a piece of him sorry that Adam had yet to find his way into fatherhood. While he considered Joe a good father, Ben knew in his heart that Adam would be an excellent one. His last words had just proven it.

Chapter 2:

Little by little, the confusion he had experienced time and again upon waking was leaving. The words he heard once again began to make sense. He was regaining control of his own body but slowly. The first he became aware of it was as Honor and his brother Adam had rolled him to his side while they changed the sheets and pad under him. His arm had fallen limply across the bed with the motion and he was able to pull it back towards his body a little, but it took a Herculean effort that left him weary. Once again when he was on his back, he sought to make eye contact with Honor, trying to communicate with her.

 

“Here, Adam, help me give him some of this would you?” Joe heard her say, her back to him, then she was beside him and Adam was coaxing him to open his mouth to accept the drink Honor held. He tried with every bit of his soul to open his mouth on his own but he couldn’t make what was in his head go to his face. Frustrated, he once again felt the sting of humiliation as Adam pried his jaws open and Honor poured the fluid into his mouth. The reflex to swallow took over while Adam still held his mouth open and forced what was in his mouth out and he felt it dribbling down his chin and onto his chest. Joe wanted to cry, rant and rave, wanted to beg them to let him alone. But though the words formed in his head, he couldn’t get them to his voice.

 

“I tell you, Honor, we need a bib,” Adam was saying again.

 

“Probably,” Honor sighed and ran her small hand across Joe’s face, her eyes deep pools of blue. “I thought the diaper idea was bad enough, though. I can’t bring myself to subject him to any more humiliation, Adam.”

 

“But you can subject Hop Sing to more laundry?” Adam teased, reaching out to move a long tendril of her auburn hair back over her shoulder. Just before his finger would have made contact, he pulled back.

 

“I have never heard Hop Sing complain,” she said, glaring in mock anger at her brother-in-law. “So I don’t think you should!”

 

“Okay, okay. Have it your way, Madame Cartwright. But don’t blame me when Hop Sing packs his bags and heads to San Francisco to tend to some sick relative and leaves all the household chores to you!”

 

She twisted around to face him as she sat on the side of the bed. “I have you know in all the years I have lived in this house, not once has Hop Sing threatened to do that. Not once!”

 

“Probably because he was afraid of what he would come home to: Lace curtains throughout the house and dainty little feminine things spread hither and yon.”

 

“Adam Cartwright! Is that what you think of me? Lace and dainty little feminine things?” she protested hotly, enjoying the easy banter.

 

“Oh no, not in the least, my lady. Something else comes to mind entirely when I think of you.” Adam put up both hands as though to ward off an incoming blow.

 

“And that would be?”

 

Something slammed home to Adam. He couldn’t answer her truthfully, not with his brother, her husband, there motionless on the bed behind her. Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind. “I think of a woman made of tough enough character to stand up and speak her mind when others would stay silent.” It was the truth, he thought but not the whole truth.

 

Joe had watched silently as the two had talked. He had heard the playfulness in Honor’s voice, the tease in Adam’s words. He recognized it for what it was: they were flirting. The shout of anger came from him as a groan and he was able to turn his face into the pillow, trying to shut out the scene before him.

 

Honor whirled at the sound, her face alight with delight. Once again her small hands flew to the side of her husband’s face, gently stroking, coaxing the coolness away with their warmth. He had moved and he had made a sound.

 

“Well, young man, you still confound the Hell out of medical propriety!” Paul Martin exclaimed several weeks later as he shoved his stethoscope back into his bag. “However,” and he stopped speaking, trying to decide not what to say next but how to say it. Joe did it for him.

 

“However I still need to take it easy. Doc, how long have you been trying to get me to do that?” Joe said as he finished buttoning his shirt, his fingers fumbling with the effort as he sat the rocking chair there in the sunlit bedroom that morning.

 

“I believe this first time I said it, you were too young to answer me back, so that would be how many years? But seriously, Joe, your heart is still weak. You need to take it easy.”

 

“Oh, that has been rammed home repeatedly for the past weeks. ‘ Here, Joe, let me get that for you. Aren’t you cold? Let me get you another blanket.’ ” Paul heard the underlying anger beneath the words Joe seemed to quote.

 

“It was my suggestion that you give up running things here at the Ponderosa for a while,” the doctor said.

 

“I don’t care whose suggestion it was, Doc, it still stinks to high heaven as far as I am concerned. And was it your suggestion that Adam step in to run things too?”

 

Paul Martin rolled his sleeves down and stared out the window. “Where’d this anger come from, Joe?” he asked.

 

With one hand rubbing the back of his neck, Joe took a deep breath to slow down the pace of his racing heart. He had found that he could control the wild beating that would come upon him suddenly, leaving him breathless and weak, sometimes with a fine sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead the only outward sign. But to control it, he had to calm himself completely, devoiding himself of all emotion in the process.

 

“How should I know?” came his flat response. “You’re the doctor. You tell me,” he challenged.

 

“Okay I will. It comes from what you think of yourself now. You have always been a pretty strong character, Joe. Even as a kid, you were a tough one, growing up way too fast. Wanting to be a man while you were still just a kid. Then, little by little, you got there: you were a man. And a man to be reckoned with to a lot of folks’ thinking. Mine included. It wasn’t just the fact that you ran the Ponderosa although that was enough for some folks. It wasn’t the fact that you married Honor, a very sought after prize as I recall. It was more the idea that you finally saw yourself as complete and that gave your confidence a whole new meaning. Now, though Joe, you have come to grips with something even you can’t get by: mortality. Yours. You found out that you are not going to live forever and you’re angry that you won’t. That struggling fighting little boy is back but Joe, the more you fight this the sooner it will win.”

 

Joe swallowed the lump in his throat. “Answer me this question then, Doc. How long?”

 

“As weak as your heart is, you could die tomorrow. Or outlive us all. If you continue to fight, sooner rather than later. If you take small steps and go easy on yourself, a little longer. But to put a measure of time on it, I can’t. No one can, Joe.” And as he spoke, Paul Martin once again let his resolve to maintain a professional distance fall away. The man on whose shoulder his hand rested was as much a son to him as he could have ever of hoped for. He had brought him into the world, one of the first babies he had ever delivered. Throughout the turbulent years that had followed, he had experienced right alongside Ben, the difficulties of raising Joseph. Through the deaths of his beloved brother Hoss and later Joe’s first wife Alice, Paul had been there, a silent witness. When Joe met Honor, Paul had happily cheered the loss of Virginia City’s most coveted bachelor into the bliss of married life. The birth of the twin boys the November before that he had assisted with had brought Paul full circle. He prayed that he would not be there when it was over for Joe. That, he thought he couldn’t handle and remain just “the doctor.”

 

“Can you do it, Joe? For once in your life, slow down? Take things easy? Don’t push yourself? Lose the anger that is driving you way too fast and way too hard?”

 

“I’m not sure.”

 

Paul Martin thought that he had never in his life seen Joseph Cartwright more honest with himself. With a pat to the broad shoulder under his hand, the doctor left him, sitting and thinking.

 

Honor turned at the sound of the door opening, her face as full of hope as her arms were of babies. Across and behind her, Paul saw Ben sitting at the desk in the study.

 

“Well?” she asked quickly.

 

The doctor came to stand before her. With one hand he reached out and lifted the chin of the smallest child, the one they called AJ. The dark haired little lad squirmed away from the hand. Just like his father. Hates the doctor.

 

“Well?” Honor pushed again, this time with a little more force.

 

“He is doing as well as can be expected, Honor. You know that as well as I do. You also know that this is going to take him a long time to get over.” The doctor took the bigger child from her arms. Hoss was his nickname and he was very much the doctor’s favorite, gurgling happily and touching Paul’s face with a pudgy hand. “But you need to let up on him Honor. You too, I expect, Ben.” He saw the puzzled exchange and plunged on. “I can see that he is being smothered by some very well meaning people. Ease up on him. Let him have some privacy, some control over his life again. For a while he needed a lot of help but not so much now.”

 

“But these wild mood swings of his-” Honor started but Paul stopped her with a look.

 

“Imagine yourself being scrutinized every waking minute of every waking day, Honor. Think about how he must have felt, trying to get his body to do the simplest things again. Part of him I am sure is just glad to be alive. And every once in a while, that comes out in him. Then other times, he’s not so glad. Honor, let it go. Let him get adjusted to his life again.”

 

She pursed her lips together in her typical way of saying that someone else was right without having to voice the words. “It’s just so hard to not smother him!”

 

“Start with small steps. Like why don’t you and Ben take these little fellows and go for a buggy ride. Get out of the house for a while.”

 

“And leave Joe alone? Paul, I am not sure that is a good idea at all.” Ben came to stand at Honor’s side.

 

“That is exactly what I mean! As weak as he is, I doubt if he would do more than just get up and walk around for a bit. Give the boy some space, you two.”

 

With a deep sigh, Adam swung down off his horse, thinking that a cup of coffee would be a good idea. Even though it was still autumn, the air had taken on a sharp nip that morning when he had decided to ride out with Jamie and check the herd being brought down from the high pastures. Usually the temperature would have warmed up with the approach of noon but the chill had persisted. He shrugged further into his light jacket, wishing it were heavier.

 

“Here,” and he held his reins out to Jamie, “Take care of your older brother’s horse, will you?”

 

“Joe was right about you,” Jamie quipped, taking the reins to the tall sorrel Adam rode.

 

“About what?”

 

“That when you want out of doing something, you pull that oldest brother routine out.”

 

Adam pursed his lips then took a half-hearted swipe at the red haired young man who was now his youngest brother. It was hard to think of Jamie that way: his youngest brother. In his heart, Adam would always see Joe as his “little brother”, no matter what a piece of paper said. Sure, Jamie was in name a Cartwright, but there was just something in Adam that half resisted the addition. The same way he couldn’t think of the responsibility of running the Ranch as belonging to anyone but his father. But there was a truth to be faced and that truth wore the face of Jamie Hunter Cartwright.

 

“I see you have been listening to poor advice again. Get on with my horse, young man or you will see just what your oldest brother is still capable of. I am sure Joe filled you in on that as well.”

 

Jamie smiled, remembering the long talks he had with Joe when Adam had returned. “Okay, I give, Old man.” Jamie turned quickly, not hiding his smile at the descriptive endearment Joe had repeatedly used for Adam.

 

Remembering his desire for a cup of coffee, Adam went in through the kitchen door. But it wasn’t Hop Sing he found there. Sitting at the tall countertop, hunched forward, his hands cradling a glass half full of whiskey from the bottle before him, Joe sat, staring at nothing. Adam’s own heart lurched at the sight before him. Joe seemed drained of life, his face pale and drawn, his body seeming to curl in on itself.

 

“Should you be up?” Adam asked, passing Joe’s shoulder to snag a cup from over the stove and pouring himself coffee.

 

“Probably not, but I got tired of looking at the ceiling. And Pa took Honor and the boys to town, so there went my only entertainment.” Adam saw over Joe’s shoulders the shaking hands that held the glass.

 

“Even after all these years, you still don’t think of reading-” Adam started to tease then stopped himself. There was just something about the set of Joe’s shoulders, his head hanging despondently. For several long moments, the only sound was the sipping of coffee.

 

Finally, Joe broke the lingering silence. “Brothers?” He spoke the word not as a question but more as a hesitant statement.

 

Adam recognized the word and inflection it carried. It had been ages since he had heard it. It was their way of asking that what was about to be said would stay between only them. That it would not be spoken of to their father or anyone else. And it was a reminder of the shared blood between them. There was only one reply and Adam gave it.

 

“Brothers.” He let his hand slide up his brother’s hunched back as he slipped over to stand beside Joe.

 

Joe raised his head and looked passed Adam. “Brothers?” he said again. Adam wondered why Joe had repeated the word then turned to see Jamie at the kitchen door as well.

 

Jamie quickly replied “Brothers. Always.” He moved to stand across the counter from his older brothers, realizing that theirs was something special shared. Jamie felt sometimes like an outsider to these two but then one of them would do something like Joe had just done and he would feel connected again. He longed to reach out like Adam had just done, but knew that right then the brother Joe needed may not have been him.

 

“I’m scared,” Joe whispered and felt Adam’s hand tighten just a bit on his neck. “Imagine that, huh, Jamie? Your big brother being scared of something. Bet you never thought you would hear that, did you? But Adam? He’s heard it a lot, haven’t you?”

 

Adam couldn’t reply with words so he let his hand drift down Joe’s shoulder to come to rest on his forearm, whispering its own gentleness and reassurance.

 

“But this time, it isn’t monsters. It isn’t being left alone I’m afraid of. It’s something bigger. I’m not scared of dying. I’m scared of living like this for the rest of my life. Weak, useless. Afraid that my next breath is going to be my last one. Can you understand that, Adam? You heard what Paul Martin said. ‘Take it slow and easy’ but that isn’t me. My sons are going to grow up thinking their old man is just that: old. That isn’t how I want them to think of me.”

 

“And what if you don’t take it slow and easy, Joe? What are your children going to think of you then? Got news for you, little buddy, they aren’t going to be able to think of you at all then because you will have died too early in their lives for them to remember you at all!”

 

“He’s right, Joe,” Jamie agreed then continued, “Sure they would have the rest of the family but it wouldn’t be the same as having their own pa. You have to-”

 

Adam had felt the coming explosion telegraphed through the tight muscles in Joe’s arm. Quickly he grabbed both Joe’s biceps and pulled him around to meet him full force. “You listen to me, Joseph Francis Cartwright!” he hissed, “You think you are the only one scared by what happened? By what might be in the future? Dump the arrogance. You aren’t alone here. And it goes far beyond your children. If you don’t take it easy, you may never recover your full strength even though you may live another hundred years. That is why Jamie and I are out busting our humps, running the Ranch now. So you can recover. I am sure you remember what being a newlywed was like. Well, I am sure Jamie would much rather be spending time with his new wife than with a ledger full of numbers every night. And me? I like my little house in town with all its books and drawings. Every time I swing into the saddle now days, I think how much I enjoy the walk down to my office. But you shove all that aside ’cause it pales by comparison with what Pa is going through. While you are wallowing in your self-pity and fear, he is facing the very real possibility of trying to raise your sons. And Pa ain’t a young man, you know.”

 

“But Adam-” Joe started, his head was still down and shaking slowly from side to side, the intense feelings of a moment ago lost. “I want to be here to raise my sons. But I want it to be me, not some shadow of me. And I am afraid that is what I always will be. A shadow.”

 

“Then promise yourself that you won’t be. Promise yourself and all us that you will do what Paul wants you to. Promise that you will live and Joe, you will!” Adam said, his voice losing the hard edge of recrimination. “Just because you slow your life down doesn’t mean it comes to a grinding halt. It just means that you are going to give your body, your heart, time to heal. You are right about one thing, Joe. You will never be the same after this. None of us will be. You’ve showed us all something important.”

 

Joe looked up into Adam’s dark eyes and once again Adam was struck by the fragility he saw on his brother’s face.

 

“You’ve shown us how important life really is. And how quickly we can lose it.” Jamie offered, his voice so low Adam almost didn’t hear it. It gave Adam a start since those were the words he had intended to say.

 

Slowly, Joe leaned forward, letting his head come to rest on his older brother’s chest. Adam put his arms protectively around his younger brother’s shoulders, drawing him into an embrace long remembered but half-forgotten until that moment.

 

“Brothers?” Adam whispered hoarsely, his voice nearly breaking over the word.

 

“Brothers,” came Joe’s reply softly and Adam felt Joe’s body soften and lean into him.

 

“Brothers?” Adam softly called over Joe’s head to Jamie.

 

The half smile Jamie gave Adam through his tears said far more to Adam than any words could have even though the young man gave his own answer of “Always.”

 

“Then help me get this one back to bed,” Adam suggested even though he could have accomplished the task on his own. Even though Joe would forever be his blood brother, that afternoon, Adam Cartwright realized that sometimes shared blood wasn’t a prerequisite to being a family. Only understanding. And love.

 

As Joe lay back on the bed, his head still swam the effects of too much whiskey. He was still angry. At himself. At the world. Then Joseph Cartwright came to the realization that the other person in the world he was the angriest with, was Adam. And he had just reached out to him, seeking and getting understanding. And love.

 

If Society had heard them, the three women would have been labeled as lewd and loose, they were sure. But Society couldn’t have heard them since they were tucked away in the “Honeymoon” cottage that afternoon. Before it had been the “honeymoon” cottage, it had done duty as the foreman’s lodgings to a variety of married men who had worked on the Ponderosa then moved on with their wives and families. Everyone started calling it the honeymoon cottage when Candy had asked Ben Cartwright is he could live there once he and Anne were married. That had been his way of telling his boss that he was getting married to the quaint Quaker teacher. After they had finished with the backslapping, teasing and many toasts, Candy had had to ask again.

 

“Why don’t we build you and Ann a nice home? Pick a spot, any spot and we’ll do you up right!” Ben insisted.

 

Candy had been studying the floor intently. “Mr. Cartwright, as much as I appreciate the offer, the request still stands. We’d like to take that cabin and fix it up. It’s still plenty solid. The chimney needs a little work but other than that, it’s fine. Besides, Anne thinks it’s perfect.”

 

“Whoa! Would you listen to that? Ol’ Candy is already toeing the line with the little woman!” Joe had crowed.

 

Dropping his chin, Ben had turned to glare at his son, his very married son. “And are you going to stand there and tell us you don’t?”

 

Joe’s countenance changed quickly to a grimace followed by a tight smile. “Chimney needs work, you say?”

 

Now Candy and Anne, pregnant with their first child had finally built and moved to a larger home just down the hill from the main house. And just in time for Cathy and Jamie to take up residence there following their summer wedding. The three women had just finished putting the last touches to the kitchen, cleaning the stove.

 

“Whew! Just watching you work makes me tired, Honor,” Cathy exclaimed, puffing her cheeks and widening her brown eyes. “Where you get all your energy from?”

 

“You just have to get a good night’s sleep is all,” Honor said, distracted by the soot on her hands.

 

“Wish that I could do that!” Anne moaned, rubbing at the small of her back then at her heavy belly.

 

“Night time activities keep you up?” Honor teased, aiming her comment to Anne but it was Cathy who answered.

 

“Oh my, yes!”

 

The stunned silence lasted only a moment before all three were laughing, poor Cathy embarrassed by her “revelation.”

 

“Don’t be embarrassed, child,” Anne finally got out. “Tis normal for a man and wife. How do you think the human race continues if not for a little night time activity?”

 

“But I didn’t- I mean- I didn’t know-” the petite woman-child stammered.

 

Honor smiled and spoke up as she wiped her hands on a towel Anne handed her. “That it could be such fun?”

 

Both of the other women turned to appraise her, eyes round, surprised by her frankness.

 

“What? You going to stand there and lie to me, Anne Canaday, that it was a chore that got you to the shape you are in now? I think not!”

 

Still Anne and Cathy said nothing but they did turn and look at one another.

 

“Oh stop it you two!” Honor hissed and snapped the towel at Cathy.

 

“All right!” the young woman yelped, stifling a nervous laugh. “It is fun. I didn’t think it was suppose to be but Jamie sure makes it that way!” and the red creeping up her cheeks shot to her ears.

 

Honor laughed but her thoughts whirled back to how Cathy had come into their lives: abused by her own father whose life she herself had taken to save Honor’s. How this child has grown. I don’t think she has put all of it behind her still but she is working on it. Wish I could put it behind me. And once again she saw Leroy Singer, dirty, filthy, lewd before her, ready to rape her to prove his power over her. It sent a shiver down her spine. As she came back to the present she heard Anne ask her something. She shook her head to clear the clinging wisps away and had to ask Anne to repeat the question.

 

“I asked you if it was like that for you?”

 

“What? Making love? When?” Her confusion all the more apparent as she tried to cast away the threads of her previous thoughts. “With my first husband, yes it was a chore. Something I simply endured every night. He was a loud mouth bore, so sure of himself. So full of himself. I remember lying there, wanting him to hurry up and finish so I could roll away and sleep. Then I met Joe and he changed that in a big hurry.”

 

“What happened to you first husband, Honor? I didn’t know you’d been married before,” Cathy asked, gesturing for them to step outside to sit on the little porch. They went out and Anne took the only chair, easing herself carefully into it, rubbing her hands over the child within her belly. Cathy sat on the steps while Honor remained standing, leaning against the upright.

 

“Oh, I imagine he’s still living in Monterrey.”

 

“You mean to say—he’s still alive?” Cathy stammered over the concept.

 

“Most likely.” Honor replied, trying to keep an amused tone in her voice. “Yes, Cathy. I am a sinful woman. I’m divorced from my first husband. Joe is my second husband.”

 

“Tell the whole story. Thee art a sinful woman several times over.” Anne chided, but her face was alight with merriment. Honor smiled and shook her head, then found her feet to be of great interest. “All right, then, I shall tell this poor child the truth if thee can’t. You see, Cathy, this paragon of Society here, this seemingly virtuous altruistic doctor, couldn’t keep her skirts down.”

 

The little high pitched “humph!” from Honor only spurred Anne’s story on. “She told me so herself! The first date she had with Joe and she was fairly panting with desire! I do believe she bewitched him!”

 

“Get the story straight, will you? It wasn’t that I had trouble keeping my skirt down!”

 

“Thou art right,” Anne admitted with her finger raised as if to emphasize the statement. “It was keeping thy pantaloons up that was the trouble!”

 

Cathy howled with laughter.

 

“Anne! I have never heard you talk like that!” Honor said, showing her disbelief in what she was hearing.

 

“Go on!” Cathy cried but Anne needed no urging, warmed as she was now to her topic, and she gleefully continued.

 

“To hear her tell it way back when, it was all the two of them could do to get out of sight before they began their lascivious ways. Seems that all of Virginia City was talking about the pair of them!”

 

“Anne! You make me sound like-”

 

“And that is exactly what she was too, child. Madly in love. And still is, all these many years later. Watch them next time you see them together. I’ve seen Joe watching her when he doesn’t think she sees him. Oh, to have a man watch me like that!”

 

“But Candy -” Honor started but again Anne cut her off.

 

“Candy loves me, yes. But Joseph adores thee, Honor. He worships thee! And thou dost him as well. And that, Cathy, my child, is how it should be between a man and his wife! Because being married is more than just a legal joining of bodies; it is the coming together of two souls for all eternity.” By the time she had finished speaking, all the lightheartedness was gone from the Quaker woman and her words held the conviction of just what they were: the truth.

 

“I hope that thee has the same in thy life, Cathy, as thee goes through thy days with Jamie. Then thy lovemaking will not be for ‘fun’ but for the sharing of the most beautiful thing God ever granted mortal man. Children. The continuation of life and love. And no child, ever born of loving parents, can be considered a sin.”

 

For many moments the three women were silent, each with her own thoughts. For Anne the thoughts were for her unborn child, moving sluggishly within her womb. Honor had examined her earlier that day and pronounced her and the child healthy. And ready within a few short weeks to part their close relationship. Anne was unsure just how to approach the idea of her coming labor. She had watched and eventually helped her mother as well as other women she had known. The thing that stood foremost in her memory was that these women were in pain. Great pain. Anne wasn’t sure she could handle that.

 

Cathy, on the other hand, reflected on a recent conversation she had had with her new husband. She had told him that she wasn’t sure about having children at all. He had held her gently that night, not making love to her at all but simply cuddling her close. That was what she had needed more than anything else. A simple affirmation that she was more than just the possible mother to his children, she was his love.

 

Honor, already a mother, leaned against the post and thought of what Anne had said about how her husband treated her. Yes, she was right. Joe adored Honor and she did indeed feel the same way about him but yet over the past few weeks, she had kept her present pregnancy a secret from him as he struggled to recover from the heart attack that had nearly taken him from her. As she ran her hands over her abdomen, she considered all the arguments she had used with herself for not telling him. They seemed meaningless to her now. When I get home, I’m going to tell him.

 

“Hey look, here they come! Wondered how long it was going to take them in town to get supplies.” Cathy pointed to the approaching wagon and bounded to her feet.

 

“I don’t like the looks of this, Candy!” Jamie shouted as he pulled the wagon to a stop the small yard, sending chickens flying helter-skelter. Behind the wagon, Candy was already swinging off his horse, having seen Anne on the porch.

 

“Yep, looks like a real hen-fest if I ever saw one.” Adam agreed as he pulled his horse to a stop beside the wagon. “Wonder what they’re planning!”

 

As Jamie jumped down from the wagon seat and kissed his new bride, Honor stepped away, giving them space.

 

“We’ve been planning your demise as the last single Cartwright male!” Honor quipped, shading her eyes as she looked up at her dark brother-in-law.

 

“What? You got your boys married off already? Now those are the last two Cartwright males! At least so far,” he shot back.

 

“Stay for dinner Adam?” Cathy offered. She was still unsure just how to deal with this older, darker brother-in-law who had stepped into her life just a year ago. She was half afraid of him but had vowed to herself to take every opportunity to get to know him better. But for every step forward she took, Adam would take one to the side. It seemed to her that he was always avoiding her. But yet he always seemed to be close to wherever Honor was. That made him even more of an enigma to her.

 

“Don’t think Hop Sing would like that, but thank you any way.” Adam tipped his hat courteously and smiled.

 

He did it again, Cathy thought, shied away like I was a snake. Why can’t he- oh never mind. You go on, Adam Cartwright. You may be scared of me but I ain’t scared of you.

 

“Speaking of Hop Sing, I better get on home myself. I can imagine the afternoon Hop Sing has had because I know Father Ben vacated the premises shortly after I left.” Honor smiled as she spoke.

 

“What? You seem to think Hop Sing can’t handle two little boys. I know for certain that he is very capable. He handled Joe for years!” Adam explained as Honor pulled her long legged gray gelding from the hitching post. “But you are right. We had better get home before Hop Sing decides he likes babysitting better than cooking and we have to do without supper.”

 

With a wave of her hand and a warning for Anne to send for her if she needed her, Honor pulled the gelding’s head around until she sat facing Adam.

 

“Last one home is a suck egg mule!” she taunted to Adam’s surprise then jammed her heels into the gray’s side. The horse took off like a bullet.

 

It took Adam the better part of a mile before he was able to catch her. When he was finally able to, he was tempted to reach out and grabbed the reins and halt the horse himself. Instead, he ordered her to pull up. Puzzled, she complied and turned the horse so she sat facing him again.

 

“What is your problem, Adam?” she hissed, flinging her hair back over her shoulder.

 

“You! Apparently! Or have you forgotten that you are with child again?” he flung back heatedly.

 

“And so? I’ll have you know I rode while I was pregnant with the twins until I couldn’t get my leg up high enough passed my belly to hit the stirrup. Even then, if there had been room in the saddle, I would still have figured a way to ride!”

 

“Oh I remember that very well, young lady. I also recall how worried my brother was about you riding at all. Honor, please?” he pleaded.

 

She rolled her eyes and gave him her best look of exasperation before she nudged the gray into a sedate walk towards home. For a while, they rode that way, quiet, Honor allowing her body to move with the subtle moves of the horse beneath her. Beside her, Adam did his best to not watch her but found he couldn’t. There was something about her that drew his attention like metal filings to a magnet. Once again he considered that if she had met him first, she would never have married his brother.

 

“What?” she challenged sharply, feeling his eyes on her.

 

Adam swallowed, guilt rising in him. “Nothing.”

 

“Adam, answer me a question will you?”

 

Caution rose to replace the guilt as he said he would if he could.

 

“Why haven’t you married and settled down?” she asked, lifting her head and gazing steadily at him as their horses continued to walk side by side down the road.

 

Because the woman I think I love is married to my brother. “Just never found the right woman.”

 

“Are you looking for her?”

 

Why should I? She is right here beside me. “If you hadn’t checked I’ve been a little busy lately.”

 

“But were you even looking before you had to come help us?”

 

“Some. Why all the questions, Honor? Don’t tell me! You and Anne and Cathy have found the perfect woman for me and want me to meet her!” Can’t be, because you are the perfect woman, Honor.

 

“No, nothing like that. It’s just that you seem so lonely sometimes. Like just now back at the honeymoon cottage. When Candy was hugging Anne and Jamie kissing Cathy, you had such a pained look on your face. It was a sad look.”

 

“I can see I will have to do something about reacquiring my poker face.” Because I was thinking how it would feel like to ride up and find you waiting for me, wanting me just like Anne and Cathy wanted their men.

 

Honor pulled her horse to a stop and turned part ways in the saddle so she could face Adam. She studied him closely then narrowing her eyes took a sharp breath that caught his attention. One look at her brother-in-law told her what he had been thinking just moments before: his mouth curled into a half-smile and his body leaning ever-so-slightly in her direction. When he turned to face her, his eyes, the dark doorways to his heart, danced with light despite the shadows they sat in beneath his hat.

 

“It wouldn’t have worked, Adam. Not then and certainly not now. Not ever.”

 

He tried to feign confusion, quickly reassuming his disguise of non-committal that he tried to wear around her. “I don’t understand what you are saying.”

 

“You do too so don’t try to pull that on me ’cause it won’t work!” she warned and when she saw his mask begin to fall she pressed on. “I catch you looking at me from time to time and I know what you are thinking.”

 

“Just what am I thinking?” he allowed his words to explode.

 

“That Joe and I are wrong for each other. That I should be your wife, not his.”

 

Adam hitched in his breath for she had struck the right nerve. “Okay, so I think it! You have to admit you and I share a lot more than you and Joe do. You are an educated, intelligent woman. You and I stand on the same plane when it comes to literature, art, science. We’ve read many of the same books, watched the same plays, heard the same operas. For God’s sake, Honor, we even argue alike! What do you and Joe have in common?”

 

With a tug on the reins, Honor pulled the gray close to Adam’s horse. Her eyes hardening, she leaned over and rested her hand on his thigh staring up into his face. “Besides the obvious, two sons, Joe and I share something I don’t think you have ever allowed yourself to experience, Adam. It’s called passion. Wild, unbridled passion but beyond that, we share something else. Love, Adam, love. Joe and I love one another and that goes beyond art, literature, opera and science. Remember that when you come lusting after another man’s wife.” And with a last warning look, she put her heels to the gray horse and sent him into a swift canter down the road.

 

Adam had no idea how long he sat there in stunned silence. Not only had she hit the nerve, she had pulled it out, examined it minutely, then proceeded to tie it in knots before ramming it back into his body. As he finally put his horse into a slow lope, he decided that once he got back to the ranch, he would pack his things and leave. It would be too hard to be there. He reasoned that Jamie and Candy could run things and with the rate Joe was improving, it wouldn’t be that long before Joe was ready to step back into his role of leadership.

 

As he rounded a curve, he saw the gray horse standing riderless down by the small creek that ran through the small valley. He almost rode by, thinking that Honor had chosen that spot to pull herself together before getting back to the house. He knew he would have done the same but when he saw her, something about her posture as she knelt on the ground warned him that something was wrong.

 

Still a few feet away, Adam pulled his horse to a stop and dismounted.

 

“Honor?” he called to her and watched as she started to stand then dropped back to her knees in the high grass, her arms wrapped around her waist. Forgetting his determination to put distance between them, Adam found himself at her shoulder as she leaned well forward, one hand on the ground to balance her body. Tentatively, Adam laid his hand on her back. She groaned and leaned further down. He slipped his other arm under her, thinking he would support her. He felt the hard tremor go through her body.

 

He called to her again but she still didn’t answer him. He pulled her body to him, trying to give her some support. At first she resisted but another hard tremor followed by a low moan and she came easily to him.

 

“What is? What’s wrong?” he whispered in her ear. He could see the tears on her face but her eyes were pinched shut against the pain she was obviously feeling. Another tremor, longer this time in duration passed through her.

 

“You were right,” she gasped out, her hand grabbing at his arm. “Shouldn’t have been riding like that. Help me,” she ended by pleading.

 

“How?”

 

“Take me to Anne’s.”

 

“I’ll take you back to the house. You need a doctor, Honor.”

 

“By the time you got a doctor, it would all be over, Adam. I know, I’ve been through this so many times.”

 

“I’ll still take you

 

to Anne and Candy’s. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her to his horse. He carefully set her across the saddle then swung up behind her. He caught the reins of her gray horse as he rode passed the animal but all of his attention was on the woman who sagged into his embrace. And the blood on the arm he had tucked under her legs.

 

He didn’t know what to do except stay close at hand. After he had helped Honor into the guestroom at Candy and Anne’s, he had wanted to go for help but she had insisted that she had everything under control. She had even laughingly teased him that as a doctor and a woman, she knew more about what was happening than Paul Martin did. With a shaky hand she had pushed him from the room, telling him to go home. But that he couldn’t do. So he had paced the floor, hoping that at the very least, Candy and Anne would return home shortly. But the minutes stretched into hours until the sky outside began to darken.

 

Finally, she called to him. In his haste, he nearly tore the door from its hinges.

 

“I need some hot water, Adam. Please?” she asked, her voice sounding tired but firm all the same.

 

“Honor, let me get the buggy. Take you into Paul,” he started but the faint laugh she gave him stopped his words headlong rush.

 

“You Cartwright males are all alike. Ha! You men are all alike. Women have been taking care of things like this without the benefit of a doctor for years. Centuries, even. Adam, there is nothing, let me repeat that: nothing, Paul Martin or any other mortal soul could do about this. It was a miscarriage. That’s all.”

 

Adam lowered himself gently onto the side of the bed where she had laid. “Are you sure?”

 

Honor softly snorted and pulled the blanket tighter to her chest. “I’ve had them before and the odds are good that I will have more in the future. It was only by divine intervention I am sure that I stayed pregnant with the twins. Now, I need some hot water to get cleaned up. Then I’ll borrow one of Anne’s dresses and go home. Some rest, some of Hop Sing’s good cooking and I’ll be fine.”

 

The doubtful look he gave her said everything his voice could have but he nodded silently and left the room.

It was fully dark by the time Adam and Honor rode slowly into the yard at home. Adam had insisted that they keep the horses to a walk and Honor wisely had agreed so the trip home had taken longer than normal. Both were surprised to see the Canady’s buckboard there. When Candy and Anne hadn’t shown up at their home, both Adam and Honor had simply assumed that they had stayed at Jamie’s for dinner. They had never dreamed that they would be at the main house that night.

 

Pulling her gelding to a halt by the barn door, Honor started to swing her leg over the horse’s back to dismount but found it too painful to do. Seeing her distress, Adam quickly dismounted and came to her stirrup.

 

“Let me help you down,” Adam said softly and putting his hands gently around her waist, pulled her from the saddle and held her up until she regained solid footing. “Can you walk? Let me carry you-”

 

“NO!” she hissed sharply and pushed at his chest so that he would step away from her. “I can walk just fine and I will. Right into the house. And you will say nothing about this afternoon, do you understand?”

 

“Why are you trying to keep this a secret, Honor?”

 

She straightened and raised her shoulders to look at him defiantly. “Because it is my business, is why. Like I said, not one word about this afternoon. Agreed?”

 

“How are you going to explain that you are wearing one of Anne’s dresses? That isn’t going to go un-noticed, Honor. You have got to tell them the truth about what happened. Especially Joe,” Adam insisted, letting his hands come to rest on her shoulders as he tried to make her see reason. With a push to his chest, she shoved him away from her, every fiber in her body screaming.

 

“Not one word, Adam Cartwright. If for no other reason that it would hurt your brother and right now, possibly kill him. Put yourself in Joe’s position. You are still recuperating from a heart attack. To protect you, your family has taken over everything: your home, your job. And every time you go to pick up one of your children, someone is hovering to make sure you don’t hurt the child or yourself. So the family has basically taken away your children too.”

 

“And because you never told him you were pregnant again…”

 

“That’s right. What he doesn’t know he never had won’t hurt him.”

 

“There’s a flaw to your logic, Honor,” Adam tried again to reason with her. “If you had told him about this, it would have given him something to get better for.”

 

“Well, I didn’t and now it doesn’t matter, does it? So not one word, Adam, please?”

 

Slowly giving in, Adam nodded. As she walked away from him towards the bright lights of the house, he watched her in fascination. Again it came to him how beautiful she was, the light haloing around her slim form. But it was her spirit that now caught and held his thoughts. She had told him in no uncertain terms just where her heart lay but still the might-have-beens raced through his thoughts like storm clouds before a strong wind. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the horses and gathering up the dropped reins, pulled them towards the barn. That simple act made his determination all the more solid: tomorrow, he would find an excuse to return to his home and his office in town.

 

Neither Honor nor Adam saw the shadow at the corner of the kitchen door change, slipping to the side of the house. There in the thin moonlight, the shadow took the form and substance of a man. He had heard the horses in the yard and had stepped from the kitchen to greet them. Struck dumb, he had watched as Adam had gracefully pulled Honor down from her horse then stood there talking softly with her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He saw her hands on the black-shirted chest and the way she looked up at Adam. Then she had stepped away, her hand brushing across her face, wiping away something, and she came on towards the house. Involuntarily, a single whimper of pain escaped him as he leaned back against the solid log wall then his legs refused to hold him up any longer and he slowly slipped to the ground. He buried his head in his hands and cried silently. What he had just seen could only mean one thing to him and it burned his very soul.

 

Softly, the tormented whisper escaped. “Honor, why?” and the only explanation Joseph Cartwright could find within himself that night was one he had long believed about himself: When compared to his brother Adam, he wasn’t man enough.

 

He had no concept of how long he stayed there, sitting on the cold ground, his back pressed against the solid wall of the only home he had ever had. Behind him, he could faintly hear the sound of his family’s voices; a laugh here, and a louder word there. But all of it made no sense to him. He heard the buckboard in the yard leaving but he made no motion to stand and tell Candy and Anne ‘goodbye’. Lost in a world of loss and sorrow, Joe didn’t even realize that his father was trying to get him to stand up until he was on his feet, his father’s strong hands clutching his biceps and his father’s voice crying his name out.

 

Frantic that his son was not responding, Ben shouted for help. Beneath his hands, Ben could feel how cold Joe was and it frightened him. In the thin light, he could barely make out his son’s features but what he could see made his heart lurch. Ben could see his son’s eyes were puffy as though he had been crying over something but for the life of him, Ben could not imagine what. And Joe wasn’t focusing, instead looking into some far distance place and time that Ben couldn’t fathom. With another loud shout for someone to help him, Ben finally got Joe to his feet and braced him against the wall of the house.

 

The first one to Ben’s side was Hop Sing, his round face full of concern.

 

“Something has happened! Go get Adam, Hop Sing. I can’t lift Joseph and we need to get him inside. Get Honor, too! Hurry!” Ben shouted needlessly.

 

It was as though he had been walking in a cold fog that had surrounded not just his body but his soul as well. But then the fog had parted to reveal his father before him, his face etched with pain and concern. The only warmth Joe could feel was on his face as his father’s hands held him there. Joe looked into his father’s dark eyes and wanted to fall into the love he saw there but something held him back. There were other hands reaching for him now. Hands he wanted nowhere near him.

 

Behind Ben, Adam and Honor had both rounded the corner of the house at the same time. At his father’s request, Adam came around and tried to support his brother, to pick up his brother and get him into the house.

 

Honor, her eyes full of fright, stood back, giving the men space.

 

With the first touch of his brother’s hand to his body, the fog around Joe fully parted and left him standing again on firm ground. He pushed away his father’s hands and roughly shoved aside Adam’s as well. Wordlessly, he squared his shoulders, letting his gaze settle on first his wife then his brother.

 

God, they look so smug. How could they stand there like that? They’re trying to look so innocent! God help me, I can’t stand this! Joe thought, and again pushing aside his father’s solicitous hands, staggered towards the front of the house. Before he could take a half dozen steps, Honor was beside him, her arm wrapping around his waist, putting his arm across her shoulders to support him. He started to push her away as well but at the last moment, quelled the impulse. Maybe I am wrong, he thought. There’s one way to find out, I guess. Play along like I don’t know. Talk with her. See how she acts. God! Please make me wrong! And he allowed her to help him into the brightly lit house and then on into their private rooms.

 

“Joe, I swear, you are going to make an old woman out of me fast! What happened out there? Did you get dizzy? Did you fall? Talk to me!” Honor demanded answers as she led Joe to their bed and sat him down on the side. She started to stoop and pull his boots off but the twinge in her belly stopped her. It was too soon after her own ordeal for any tugging and pulling and she knew it. But before she could do anything else, his hands reached for her face and gently urged her up.

 

Hungrily, Joe pulled her to him, his fingers lacing themselves in her rich auburn hair. His kiss, wanting and demanding of her, burned her. He let himself drop back onto the soft bed behind him, drawing her with him until she lay against his cold body. Eager for the intimate warmth of her flesh against his, he parted her lips from his and whispered his need.

 

Beneath her hands, Honor could feel the trip-hammer beating of Joe’s heart. His body felt cold to her, his lips the only part warm and they traced down her neck, leaving a trail of fire. His hands ran down her back and held her hips tightly. Honor was confused and frightened. Had this happened last night, she would have gladly given herself over to her husband, joyous in the resumption of that glorious aspect of their married life. She had missed it during Joe’s recovery but both had been wise enough to know that the abstinence was necessary. Now, she could feel his need so keenly and something in her cried. Why tonight of all nights? Why not last night?

 

Drawing a shaky breath, she levered herself away from him.

 

“Joe,” and just the way she said it warned him away, “Not tonight. Joe, sweetheart, something happened out there in the yard. Tell me, okay? Let me help you. I can help you but you have to tell me what happened. Is it your heart? I can feel it going a mile a minute. Please Joe, talk to me,” she pleaded but her words fell on deaf ears. When he didn’t respond to her request, she reached behind her to pull the pillows up, thinking she could get him to rest against them. But when she went to push him to them, he shoved her away. Confused all the more now, she stood back.

 

After her words of ‘not tonight,’ Joe had quit listening. Not tonight, because you’ve lain with my brother. Not tonight, because you’ve decided he’s more of a man than I am. Not tonight, because you don’t love me any longer. Not tonight because…why? Letting these thoughts beat at his soul, he watched his wife move away from him to stand and look out their bedroom window, her back to him. Because you love him was all that stayed as an answer.

 

She turned when she felt him brush past her and go out the double doors into their garden. Honor reached for him but he lightly brushed her hand aside and went on outside. She cringed for he hadn’t even looked at her and the touch of his hand had been like that of a stranger dismissing a beggar’s request. She stayed where she was at the window and watched him, seeing him as if for the first time as he stood in the watery moonlight. But this was not the man she was married to. This man stood head bowed as though beaten by a stronger foe, his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. His hands, the ones that had given her the greatest joys in her life, were shoved into the back of his belt as though to keep them from tearing out his soul. He shuffled his feet and her heart leapt, thinking that perhaps he was coming back inside, but he merely wedged a boot toe at some unseen crevice in the stones laid there. As a cloud drifted from the face of the moon, she saw him tip his head back and heard him take a deep breath. Again, her heart silently pleaded for him to come back to her arms but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and walked away.

 

Coming quickly to her senses, Honor dashed out the doors and around the corner just in time to see him disappear into the barn. Now it was her turn to sag against the corner of the house and watch. It wasn’t long before she heard the barn door creak open and saw her husband swing into the saddle of his distinctive black and white horse. Before she could even call out for him to wait, he was gone into the night.

 

At a loss for anything else to do, Honor returned to her bedroom the way she had come. A part of her knew she should go into the main room and tell Father Ben that Joe had just left. But she also knew that Adam would be there, waiting and condemning her silence. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, call it guilt or whatever, she couldn’t bring herself to step into that room.

 

“I’ve lost,” she whispered and sank into the rocking chair next to her sleeping sons.

 

It seemed like only moments later when Honor saw the first rays of the morning sun reaching over the far mountain peaks. In fact she had sat there, clutching her husband’s pillow all night long. She had run out of tears, tears of remorse, she had decided they were. Hollow would have been how she would have described herself that morning as she went about tending to her children’s needs. Mechanically, she had changed them and, with a child in each arm, stepped into the dining room, which was mercifully empty. She settled Hoss into his high chair first, then AJ. Behind her, she could hear Hop Sing’s clatter of plates and silverware and smell the beginnings of breakfast.

 

Stepping in the kitchen, she asked Hop Sing to watch the babies for a moment. With a quick bob to his head, Hop Sing agreed but wondered what was going on when Honor went out the kitchen door towards the barn, not towards the back of the house as she would have done to answer Nature’s call.

 

Honor pulled open the barn door and stood waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. But she already had her answer. There was no pinto in a stall. Joe had not returned the night before as she had prayed he had and just gone to one of the guestrooms to sleep. No, he was still gone and, as the tears fell down her cheeks again, she tried to come up with an answer to why he had gone and where.

 

“Honor, what’s the matter?” Adam’s voice called to her from the doorway and quickly she turned towards it.

 

Adam stood just inside the door, the bright new morning light outlining his body in clear elegant lines. Honor caught her breath for just a split second, she thought she was seeing Joe there. The shoulders broad and strong, the hips lean, the legs long and straight, the whole body radiated strength and power. But in a blink of the eye, Honor compared what she had seen last night of Joe standing in the garden and what appeared before her now and knew that it wasn’t him.

 

“Are you all right?” Adam asked and strolled on into the barn, stopping in front of her and seeing the tears tracking down her cheeks. “Honor?” he spoke her name softly and raised her chin to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you all right?”

 

“He’s gone, Adam. Joe’s gone. He left last night. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if he’s all right or not. Adam, please, go after him. Find him. Bring him home, please. Bring him back to me!” Honor began gently beating on Adam’s chest with her small clenched fists, finding no other outlet for her frustrations and fears.

 

More to stop her from possibly hurting herself than hurting him, Adam wrapped his arms around Honor and crushed her to him, trapping her arms between them. She sagged into his chest and not knowing what else to do, he simply held her and spoke little words of comfort, his cheek resting on the top of her head. When she had finally gotten herself back under control, she still hadn’t moved from the consolation she found there in his embrace.

 

“What am I going to do?” she whispered, her fingers pressing to her lips to stop the trembling.

 

“You are gonna get yourself straightened up, dash a little cold water on your face and go have something to eat. I’ll saddle my horse and go see if I can find him. Maybe I should beat a little sense into him-” He felt her stiffen. “-but then again, maybe I should just see if I can get through that thick skull of his that he’s sick and needs some help. Do you have any idea what might have happened last night? As you so clearly pointed out to me, you are a doctor, after all.”

 

Her head pressed against his chest, he felt her head shake. “What made him collapse outside? I have no idea. I thought at first that he had had a relapse. That his heart was giving him problems again but that isn’t it.”

 

“How do you know that? Are you sure?”

 

She nodded and looked up into Adam’s dark concerned eyes. “Oh yes, I am sure. If what happened in our room was any indication, Joe is physically much better.”

 

“Are you sure?” Adam repeated.

 

Honor pushed away from Adam and walked to the barn door, regaining more of her equilibrium and composure with each step. “He wanted to make love last night Adam. And since he’s been sick, well, we both knew that wasn’t a good idea so we just haven’t. But last night, of all nights-” and her voice broke. “I couldn’t! And I couldn’t bring myself to tell him why not! Then he got a strange look, walked out in the garden then left.”

 

“You go on back in the house, Honor. I’m gonna saddle the horses then you and I will go look for him together. I have the feeling he is going to need you more as his wife than as a doctor though when we find him.”

 

Just outside the barn door, they heard the staccato of hoof beats that abruptly ceased. Adam followed Honor to the half-opened door and as he stood behind her, saw the same thing she did.

 

Joe had pulled Cochise to a halt at the hitching post by the kitchen door. He had turned out of long habit when the barn door squeaked and saw his wife with his brother behind her. He resettled his hat, ground one fist into the palm of his other gloved hand and with a defiant lift to his chin, turned and walked into the house.

 

“Oh God, Adam, what do I do now?” Honor whispered ever so softly, afraid that even a whisper would be heard in the house.

 

“Listen to me!” Adam seethed, spinning her around and keeping his hands planted firmly in her shoulders. “You have done nothing wrong!” he spat out each word clearly and succinctly, not caring if they were overheard or seen either. “You hold your head up high and march yourself right into that house and act like there is nothing wrong. Because whatever is wrong is wrong inside my brother’s head! Now go!” he ordered and turned her back around and pushed her towards the house.

 

It was too bad that Joe never heard what Adam said to Honor. And that he had quit looking in their direction after Adam had turned Honor to face him, letting his hands stay on her shoulders. After a long night of contemplation, Joe had almost convinced himself that he was wrong about Honor but watching the little scene at the barn door had convinced him otherwise. Not knowing what else to do, he lifted the latch and walked through the door of his home.

 

Ben heard the sound of the door opening from where he sat at the head of the table, Joe’s oldest son Hoss balanced on one knee as he ate. To his right, little AJ sat in his chair, tied with a dishtowel to stay upright as he smacked at the remains of a slice of toast before him on the table. Although Ben had wondered where the parents were for his grandsons, he didn’t really care as long as the little ones were his and his alone to play with that morning. More and more of late, he had had to step into his old role of leadership of the ranch and he missed the time lost playing with his grandchildren. This morning he was bent on recouping some of it. But even so he couldn’t easily dismissed the fact that his own youngest son looked more than a little worse for wear.

 

As Joe pulled up his chair beside his dark son, Ben had to comment. “You look like something the cat drug in, son. Are you all right?”

 

Pouring himself coffee Joe mumbled he was fine and deliberately turned his attention to AJ.

 

“Last night,” Ben began.

 

“Didn’t happen!” Joe cut in sharply, vehemently. “I’m fine, Pa. My heart is fine! Just let it drop, Pa.”

 

“I can’t, son,” Ben soothed, and if he had been able to reach his son, he would have laid a hand on the fist now clenched on the table. “Something is terribly wrong and I want to -”

 

“You can’t Pa! Because you don’t begin to have the least inkling of what has happened,” Joe all but shouted. He rose from his chair so swiftly that the chair fell over backwards, startling AJ and starting the little one crying. Joe paused, looking down into the frightened expressions on his sons’ faces there at the table. And the startled one on his father’s. He turned on his heel and headed back for the door.

 

Standing by the credenza, he buckled his gunbelt on and pulled his jacket from its accustomed peg. Still hearing his father shouting his name, he jammed his arms into the sleeves and angrily put on his hat. Summoning all his willpower to ignore both his father’s demand that he come back as well as the wails of his children, Joe yanked to door open, letting it slam against the credenza with the excess force. There, with her hand outstretched to open the door herself, stood Honor. Joe merely glared harshly at her, knowing if he said anything, it would be the wrong thing. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Joe angled his body passed hers and strode across the porch to his waiting horse.

Chapter 3:

Hours later found Joseph Cartwright, one of Nevada’s most influential citizens sitting in the Silver Dollar saloon in Virginia City. He was drunk. Thoroughly so, having been there for quite some time. Several of the working girls had tried to strike up a conversation with him only to have been rebuffed for their efforts. Bruno had tried to convince him that he needed at first to go easy on the whiskey Joe was belting back with regularity. Then he had tried to get him to eat something. Ultimately, the bartender tried to get Joe to go home. All of his efforts met with a stone-cold look. When Joe demanded another bottle of whiskey, Bruno told him that he wouldn’t sell it to him.

 

“Bruno, I came here to get drunk. Good and drunk. If you won’t serve me, I’ll find some place that will. Now either get me another bottle or I’ll leave. Your choice.”

 

“I’ve known you a mess of years, Joe Cartwright. The only times I ever seen you drunk like this was after your brother Hoss died and your first wife got killed. Whatever the reason is now, you don’t belong here carrying on like this. You got a wife and family you’re responsible for. So no, Joe, I ain’t gonna sell you no more.” To further emphasize his remarks, Bruno reached out to take away Joe’s glass.

 

A rattlesnake couldn’t have moved faster than Joe did. In less than a blink of an eye, he had one hand clamped down tight on Bruno’s extended hand and in his own left hand was his pearl-handed revolver. And the hammer was pulled back. The threat to Bruno was obvious and he let go of the whiskey glass. It fell back to the tabletop, making the only noise in the suddenly silent saloon.

 

“One more and then you move on, Joe. I don’t want you in here like this. Understood?” and with shaky hands, Bruno poured whiskey into the glass.

 

Never taking his eyes from Bruno’s fleshy face, Joe picked up the glass and tossed the drink back. With his gun still drawn, Joe reached into a pocket and finding a dollar piece there, dropped it onto the table as he arose. “I can see my money is no good here any more so I’ll go elsewhere.” Straightening up, Joe holstered his gun and walked out of the still stunned-quiet saloon.

 

Outside, Joe paused. He was surprised to find that it was growing dark. It had been early in the day when he had sat down in the Silver Dollar and he guessed he had lost all track of time. Behind him, the noise from the saloon picked back up. Joe was tempted to do just what he had said to Bruno, go find another saloon and drink a little more but his head spun just a little, his eyes not keeping up with his head. Slowly, weary from not enough sleep, too little to eat and far too much to drink, he stepped off the walkway and to the side of his horse. He leaned against Cochise, trying to decide what to do.

 

A hand, strong, gentle but persistent, anchored itself to Joe’s shoulder. Without looking up, Joe thought first that it was his father but the voice in his ear was Roy Coffee’s.

 

“Son,” it growled low, “I’m gonna give you but two choices. Either you get on that pinto and ride out of town or I’m gonna arrest you and throw you in my jail cell ’til you sleep this off. Which will it be?”

 

“You have no call to arrest me, Roy,” Joe flared hotly.

 

“You just pulled your gun on an unarmed man. I think I can find some law you broke there. Is that your choice?” Roy removed Joe’s gun smoothly and tightened his grip on the shoulder under his other hand. “Come on, then. Let’s go.”

 

Joe didn’t budge. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against his horse even more. “I’ll go home, Roy. Just give me my gun back.”

 

“Nope. Can’t do that and you know it. Tell you what, I’m gonna ride out to the ranch with you. Shape you’re in, it might be a good idea.”

 

“NO!” Joe exploded. “I don’t need somebody taking me home. I’m fine! I don’t need an escort.”

 

“That wasn’t a request, son. That was a condition of my turning you loose. Now get on that horse and wait right here for me. If you aren’t here when I come back with my horse, I will come after you and arrest you for resisting arrest. Now that’s a charge I can make stick and you know it! So stay put, boy!”

 

Joe didn’t know which fact rankled him more: the fact that Roy Coffee had called him ‘boy’ like he had many years ago or the fact that he did as Roy asked. Either way, the result was the same: he remained silent for most of the ride back to the ranch. During the first part of the ride that evening, Roy had tried repeatedly to strike up a conversation with Joe but it had been to no avail. Finally he quit trying. When they could both see the lights to the main house, Joe reined his horse around and simply stuck out his hand.

 

“It’s against my better judgment but here,” Roy allowed and handed Joe back his gun. “I hope you get rid of this demon ridin’ you. If not for you, for your family, Joe Cartwright. They deserve better and so do you. And I don’t want to see your face in town for a while. You understand?”

 

Out of instinct, Joe checked his weapon before he re-holstered it. The way he did it made the sheriff regret he had returned the weapon. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Roy bid Joe good night and repeated the warning about not coming to town for a while before he reined his horse around and headed back.

 

Joe sat there for the longest time, looking first in the direction Roy had taken then back up at the bright lights coming from the house. Roy had made it plain that he wasn’t welcome in Virginia City but at the same time, Joe didn’t feel like there was a place for him at the Ranch any longer either. No, Adam’s not taking my place. He’s not going to get everything he wanted! But I am going to hear the truth, so help me God I am! And with grim determination to play it the rest of the way out, Joe steeled himself and shoved his heels into Cochise’s sides. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he was already dead.

 

“Coffee, Adam?” Honor asked as she bent to pour a cup for Ben and herself. With the coming of the night breezes through the open door came the sound of a horse, ridden at a fast pace coming into the yard.

 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Adam tried to sound casual. He wondered if his father even had a clue as to what had been happening. Adam thought that perhaps he did but chose to ignore it, hoping it would work its way out. The fact that Adam still longed to reach out to Honor and comfort her strained soul that evening was evidence that it was long from being over.

 

The strident sound of boot heels crossing the wooden porch echoed loudly and drew all of their attention. When Joe strode into the great room, no one could miss the fact that he was angry. It literally radiated off him. He didn’t stop to remove either his gunbelt or his hat but rounded the corner of the settee and grabbed Honor’s arm in his gloved hand. He roughly propelled her into the empty blue chair.

 

Adam came immediately to his feet and started to Honor’s defense only to have Joe shove him away with far more vehemence than Adam had ever seen in his brother. Ben had also started to his feet but had not been able to take more than one step towards his sons when Joe exploded.

 

“Why, Honor? Why?” he shouted into her face and saw her pale at his words.

 

Again, Adam attempted to come to Honor’s side only to meet with Joe’s furious glare. He stopped behind the settee, afraid of more than the look on his brother’s face. It was the fright on Honor’s.

 

“I have given you everything you have ever wanted! I loved you more than anything on this earth and this is how you repay me?” he hissed at her.

 

Her eyes wide blue pools, Honor tried to speak. “Joe,” she stammered before he could continue his onslaught.

 

“Why?” he repeated and took a step back from her. “It’s bad enough that you’re slipping around on me, doin’ things I don’t wanna think about. But did you have to–” and Joe’s control snapped and he whirled around, unable to face his wife another moment. He took his hat off and flung it onto the settee, every motion sharp, staccato and violent in him.

 

Ben had never seen such fury on Joe’s face. Such fury and such naked hate that he stopped, dumbfounded.

 

Joe’s shaking voice continued in the stunned silence, his back to her as he stood before the great stone fireplace. “I can see it now, Honor. It’s in your eyes. I can feel it when you kiss me. I can see the expression in your eyes when his name is mentioned,” and he flung his arm at Adam accusingly, “and I want to die. I watch the way you walk towards him, how you close your eyes when he talks to you sometimes. Just like you used to with me. How you talk to him when you think no one is listening to you. Like this morning in the barn.”

 

Honor covered her mouth with a shaking hand as she listened. She was completely stunned, not just by the words her husband used but the tone he had taken: hard, bitter. And even though every part of her screamed not to, she turned and looked at Adam. And found him equally horrified and looking at her.

 

Joe had turned just in time to see her motion towards Adam and his anger grew tenfold. Spinning, he took two long strides and only by placing both hands on the arms of her chair did he stop himself from striking her. Instead he used words.

 

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Honor, this is a huge ranch but a very small circle of people. So you just go on and tell us all then everyone will know about you and Adam. How you have lied to me time and again when you’ve come home, sayin’ that you have been makin’ house calls on your patients. Didn’t you think I would see? God, I can’t believe you thought I was so blind. I can’t believe you’ve done this to me. I thought you loved me but I guess it didn’t matter to you which Cartwright shared your bed.”

 

As he spoke, Ben could feel the heartbreak coming in waves from his son but he was shocked by what he finally perceived that Joe was accusing his wife and brother of having done.

 

“And you, you son a bitch.” And Joe whirled to face Adam, his voice getting louder and louder. “You call yourself my brother. You say we can get along when what you are after is my wife! I should have known. Pa, you were right. He not only envies what I have, he wants it bad enough to destroy me. No such luck, Adam Cartwright!” Joe was screaming now, red-faced and beyond any semblance of control. “GET OUT! BOTH OF YOU! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

 

For a few moments, the only sound was Joe’s struggling to breathe as he looked from his brother to his wife. When the silence was broken, it was Ben who did it.

 

“No,” he said softly and stepped to place a restraining hand on Joe’s heaving shoulders.  “This is still my house. And as such I say who stays and who goes-”

 

Joe whirled and flung his father’s hand away from him. His eyes narrowed as he considered his father.

 

“Is that how it is, Pa?” Joe asked, his voice quieter now, his chin lifting in defiance. And as all watched, Joe’s world collapsed, his eyes closing and tears finally breaking through. He had to clench his jaws closed to keep from screaming aloud. He barely was able to push past his father and make it as far as the back of the settee before his legs wouldn’t hold him up any longer. Leaning over, he buried his head in his crossed arms, every part of his body shaking.

 

Ben quickly went to him and put a hand to his shoulder, whispering his son’s name just once.

 

Joe pulled himself back up and glared at his father. His final betrayer.

 

“No,” Joe murmured and stepped away from his father, incredulous, as though he finally realized what was truly happening. “If that is how you want it, fine,” he spat out and, with a single step, he stood before Adam, still shaking and crying. “Here,” he said and pulling off his gloves, removed his wedding band. “You wanted it all, it’s yours. All of it. The ranch, the house. Even my wife. But that is what you have wanted since you came back, isn’t it?” And when Adam made no reply, Joe reached out and grabbed his hand and thrust the gold band into his brother’s palm. “It’s all yours now,” Joe repeated.

 

As the others present watched, Joe walked through the open door, out into the night, more lost and alone than he had ever been in his life. Betrayed, he felt, by not only his wife and brother but by his father as well. He gathered the reins up from the ground where he had dropped them and swung into the saddle. For a moment, a hope sprang into his heart that one of them would have followed him, to stop him. But as no one did, he pulled the horse’s head around and put his heels into the animal’s side. Tomorrow, he thought as the horse eased into a lope, tomorrow I will return for my sons. Adam, you may have my wife, my love, but you will not have my children. Nor you, Honor.

 

And as he rode across the dark valley, the breeze dried the tears on his face but his heart remained untouched.

 

In the silence that remained in the room after Joe had left, Ben felt as though he had been physically attacked. Still stunned, he stumbled to his chair and sat down heavily. Across the room from him, Adam still stood, looking into his palm. Honor was white, horrified by what she had just seen and experienced.

 

Although he didn’t want to, Ben knew he had to hear the truth. “Adam,” and saw his eldest son’s head jerk at the sound of his name, “Tell me this is all a horrible misunderstanding.”

 

Ben watched as Honor and Adam exchanged a look that spoke more than words ever could.

 

“Pa,” but Adam’s voice paused, nearly breaking but then he gathered his resolve. He slipped over to Honor and gave her the ring Joe had burned into his hand. “Part of it is a misunderstanding, yes. But there is truth in what he accused me of but Honor is blameless.”

 

Ben pushed back into his chair, bracing himself. “And you aren’t?”

 

Adam shoved his hands into his hip pockets and licked his suddenly dry lips. “No,” he whispered, then looked at the floor.

 

“Don’t, Adam,” Honor pleaded through her own tears.

 

“It’s all right, Honor. I accept full responsibility. You see, Pa, Joe was right. Ever since I laid eyes on Honor, I’ve wanted her. I’ve watched her. I’ve listened to her laugh and, God help me, Pa, I’ve wanted her. Even though I knew she was my brother’s wife, I wanted her. So bad that sometimes it was all I could do to keep from reaching out and touching her, telling her. I thought that if she had met me first, then she would never have married Joe. That they weren’t right for one another.”

 

Honor buried her face in her hands and cried.

 

Ben sat silent, considering the situation placed before him. “Honor, do you share in Adam’s feelings?”

 

She let her hands fall into her lap and mutely shook her head ‘no’. “At first, I wondered about what Adam said. About meeting him first. But then when the babies were born, I knew I had married the right man. But I guess by that time, the flirting I had carelessly done had done its damage. No, Father Ben, I love only Joe. And I told Adam that the other day when he told me how he felt. But I am not blameless because I thought about it.”

 

Ben clasped his hands together and leaned into them, pressing his lips closed. He prayed silently, asking for God’s help. Unable to sit still another moment, he rose slowly, pulling himself erect, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

 

“I’ll leave Pa. I’m the one that caused this. Joe needs to be here, not me. His sons-” Adam said but Ben cut him off angrily.

 

“No, you will not leave. You will stay and help sort this mess out. I am appalled by this. Honor, I suggest you go to your children and stay with them. And remember that their father is the man you exchanged vows of faithfulness and obedience with years ago. And you, Adam, I suggest you go saddle two horses. We are going after him and, God help me, I almost think I would help him if he decided to take a swing at you. Now go, both of you!” he commanded and watched as they left the room quickly and separately, not daring to look at one another.

 

Dear God in Heaven help me! Ben prayed and reaching into his own reserves, drew himself up as though preparing for a battle. How could I have missed something like this going on right here in my own house? But like, Honor, I thought about it too. If Adam had been here when Honor first showed up – NO! I am a firm believer in true love always finding itself. And from the first day I laid eyes on her, I knew Honor and Joe were right for one another. They love one another, I know they do! But I made a mistake, a big mistake! I took away Joe’s manhood at the time when he needed it the most. And who did I give it to but Adam. Oh God, how could I have been so stupid? Honor even tried to tell me but I wouldn’t listen. Don’t take away the running of the ranch, she begged me right here in this room but I thought I knew what was best. Best for who? Me? Joe? Honor? The little ones? I should have listened but I didn’t. Just like Joe should have listened but he didn’t. No, he wouldn’t listen. His mind is so made up, he is so sure that Honor has betrayed him. That Adam has betrayed him. That I have betrayed him. With that thought, Ben swung into the saddle and gathered his reins. He paused before he sunk his heels into Buck. During that moment, he looked at the house, the bright welcoming lights that now seemed a mockery. He glanced over at Adam, his first born, and saw a face so racked by his own guilty thoughts that Ben at first longed to wipe them away with a touch of his hand and a tender word to his son. No, he thought, let that look remind me that I am guilty too. I looked and never saw the real need in my sons. That I helped cause this tonight.

 

At first light, Adam reined his horse to a stop beside his father. Throughout the night they had searched in all of his brother’s known haunts and come up lacking. It seemed to them both that the earth had opened up and swallowed Joe whole. Now as Adam studied his father’s still shadowed face, he had an idea where Joe would have gone but wanted to investigate the possibility alone. There was no way that he would consider ever taking his father with him down to Rose’s on C Street. And that was the only place left that Adam had ever found Joe, even though it had been better than fifteen years ago.

 

“Pa, you need to get on home. Maybe Joe came to his senses and went back there last night while we’ve been out here chasing wild geese,” Adam offered.

 

“Do you really believe that? After seeing your brother like that last night? After listening to what he said and how he said it? Sometimes, Adam, I wonder just how intelligent you really are,” Ben said bitterly and watched as Adam flinched at the accusation.

 

“You said something a while back about Joe that kind of stuck with me, Pa. You said something about the fact that his children would always pull Joe back. Think, Pa, if it were you in this situation, who would you want to be with?” Adam asked, and reaching out, touched his father’s forearm to further emphasize his words.

 

Ben pulled his arm away from Adam’s hand. There was logic in what he suggested. “You go into town again. See if you can get Roy Coffee to form a search party. For all we know, your brother may have had another heart attack and is down somewhere. I’m going back to the house to check, get some of the hands together to find him.”

 

As Adam watched his father ride away from him he couldn’t help but wonder why he had ever thought he could return home to the Ranch and have it be anything but a disaster. He’d left years before to seek another way of life and had sought it wandering the many foreign lands and peoples. But there had always been a piece of him wanting to return to the magnificent wilds of Nevada. Working with Grandfather Stoddard for a few years in the shipping industry had been but a momentary diversion in his search for life’s fulfillment. Every path that he had taken since he had left the Ranch had been aimed at finding himself. But ultimately, every road returned him to the Ponderosa. When he had returned, he had tried to fool himself into thinking that everything had changed between he and his family.

 

The changes he’d seen were both subtle and bold. Joe ran the family’s empire when Adam could have only envisioned his father doing that. And Jamie, a brother yet not a brother that Adam still tried to fit into the larger picture but he just couldn’t make it happen. No, the only other brother Adam seemed able to acknowledge was Hoss and he was gone. The most surprising change though had been Honor. That his wild little brother had finally settled on one woman, married her and had produced offspring was a change Adam had never foreseen in all his wildest imaginings. That fact also galled Adam in his heart of hearts. He had always seen himself as giving his father the first grandchild and here Joe had beat him to it.

 

Forget about the fact that many a woman had attracted Adam’s attention, he had just never settled on any one. That is until he had met Honor. But she had made it abundantly clear. She belonged to his brother and always would. He would have to find someone else. And without a doubt in his mind, Adam knew that he could not stay in Nevada and find her. Whoever she was, he would always compare her to the fiery beauty of his sister-in-law. No, he would leave just as soon as he could.

 

He turned his horse’s head towards Virginia City and put his heels to the roan’s flanks. The first thing he had to do was repair the damage he had done to his brother’s life. Then maybe his father would forgive him. Adam questioned whether he would ever forgive himself.

 

He had been wrong. Stepping out of the most notorious cat-house in all of rambunctious Virginia City, Adam Cartwright didn’t know whether to be relieved or not at not finding his brother Joe there. As he stood in the bright sunlight of midmorning, his thoughts in turmoil, Adam couldn’t decide on his next move. If he did as his father asked and went to Roy Coffee for help in searching for Joe, he would have to tell Roy why. The great reluctance Adam had to exposing the family’s difficulty lay at his own feet. He felt he would have to explain to the sheriff that his brother had thought he had been having an affair with Joe’s wife. Forget about the fact that Joe was wrong in making that assumption as far as the truth was concerned.

 

But Adam knew that the only reason Joe was wrong was that the opportunity had not been there. The intent, possibly; for even though Honor had told him differently, something in Adam still yearned for what she represented: a passion for life that he wanted for himself. It would be a bitter draught of truth he’d have to drink that morning. Settling his hat over his eyes, he stepped down onto the wooden walkway and headed for Roy Coffee’s office.

 

Adam had just reached the jailhouse when Roy stepped out.

 

“Adam!” the gruff older man greeted him and reached for his hand to shake.

 

“Roy, can we step back into your office for a minute? Something has come up that I need your help with,” Adam admitted, swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat in the time it had taken him to walk the six blocks from C Street to there.

 

Once inside the jailhouse, Adam spoke quickly. “Joe’s missing. He left home last night after we had an argument and we’re afraid something has happened to him.”

 

Roy Coffee smiled tightly and with a gesture towards the closed door that led to the holding cells, said, “He ain’t missin’. I’ve had him locked up since he tore up the Bucket of Blood ’bout midnight. I’d told him, Adam, I wasn’t gonna put up with no nonsense and told him to stay outta town for a while. But what does that fool boy do but turn right back around and come into town? Got himself a good snoot full and then went rippin’ into some miners for God knows what reason. If it hadn’t been for Bruno and a couple of Joe’s friends, I imagine that the fight might have turned out a whole lot different than it did.”

 

“Is he all right? I mean, the fight and all. He’s okay, isn’t he?” Adam stumbled with his words, the concern for his brother’s well being now overshadowing his own disquietude.

 

“Seemed so when I brought him in. He’s back there sleepin’ it all off right now. I’d appreciate it, Adam if you’d hang around town for a bit so you could take him home when he comes around,” Roy asked as he laid a strong yet gentle hand on the black shirtsleeve before him. He’d half expected to have Adam go tearing into the holding area with the news he had just given him. But he hadn’t and that piece of the puzzle made the sheriff all the more suspicious that something was amiss between the brothers.

 

Adam grimaced before he patted Roy’s hand. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Roy. I imagine I am the last person he wants to see right now.”

 

“Boy, I known you most of your life. Known your brother all of his. I’ve seen the two of you fight over things plenty of times. You want to tell me what’s going on or do I have to find out for myself?”

 

“Can we just let this one go, Roy? I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.”

 

“On one condition,” Roy allowed and Adam paused in his turn to leave. “That you step back there and see that your brother’s all right. You do that for me, and I won’t ask any questions.”

 

For several long moments, Adam stood studying the floor to Roy’s office. The restraining hand on his arm was warm but insistent. Finally he nodded just once and Roy let go. A jangle of keys, few steps and Adam was outside of the cell where Joe lay sleeping off the results of his night. To Adam’s eyes, Joe still looked so young and innocent. His face, despite the dark bruise forming along one jaw, was relaxed and Adam could recall other times when he had been saddled with the job of waking a much younger Joe for school. It was easy for Adam to dismiss the strands of silvery gray showing through his brother’s still abundantly chestnut curls. The years had been most kind to this brother of his, making him if nothing else, more handsome. But it had been his brother’s spirit that the years had dealt with mostly, making him more settled and more complacent with his life. Until now.

 

“Why?” Adam asked softly.

 

“Because no matter what, I know you two love one another. He’s the only blood brother you got left Adam. There’s some demon riding him and you have to help him get rid of it. Is it something to do with his heart?” Roy asked, thinking perhaps that the single word Adam had spoken was for him.

 

Grasping the cell bars in both hands, Adam leaned his forehead against them, feeling the cold metal there still the hammering in his chest. How could he tell someone that he was the demon his brother needed to be rid of? “Yes,” he whispered, “it’s his heart all right and I’m afraid I’m the one responsible.” With hesitant, searching words, Adam told the grizzled sheriff as he leaned against the bars, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall. He wasn’t surprised to find Roy’s hand on his shoulder by the time he had finished his explanation.

 

“So, you see, Roy, I doubt that Joe wants to see me at all. Except maybe down the barrel of his revolver. And I probably deserve shooting for what I’ve done.”

 

“You think Joe would do that? Shoot you, I mean?” queried the lawman. “I don’t.”

 

“All I know is that I want to leave here. Let Joe have his life back the way it was before I came home.”

 

Roy pulled at the shoulder under his grip, turning Adam back into the office and closing the door behind them. “Adam Cartwright, you are probably one of the smartest men I have ever had the pleasure to have known but there are some things you just don’t understand, boy. You can’t change the past. Only the future. You can’t give Joe back his life the way it was because you’ve changed it. Irrevocably changed it. Both by your coming home and now with this business with Honor. I knew it was bound to happen, this jealousy. Since I first saw Joe and Honor together and how he acted with her when other men were around her, I knew there was gonna be trouble. Now, granted, I didn’t expect it to be you but in a way, I am kind of glad it is you.”

 

Adam’s head shot up, his expression astounded.

 

Roy continued. “I know that don’t sound so good but trust me, it is. If it had been any other man that Joe thought Honor was carrying on with, he wouldn’t of thought twice about shooting the man dead. Then I would have been forced to arrest him and probably have to either send him to jail or, God forbid, hang him. As it is, Joe’s taking it out on himself, rather than you. Now that ain’t so good, all things considered with his heart and all. But at least this way, there’s one chance.”

 

“A chance for what, Roy? A chance for Honor to be a widow anyway? A chance for Pa to have to raise Joe’s sons because he’s killed his fool self? What kind of chance is that?”

 

Roy ran his thumb slowly across his mustache before he spoke again, giving Adam time to consider what he had just said. “That’s not the chance I was talking about, Adam. The one I was talkin’ about was the one for your brother to understand just how much he loves all the folks around him, including you. And the one for him to understand just how much those same folks love him. And that one includes you too. And to get this mess straightened out. Them’s the chances I mean.”

 

Adam looked to the ceiling, feeling his chest shudder and his eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do I do now, Roy? My father is angrier with me than I have ever seen him. Honor, I’m sure, doesn’t want me anywhere near her and Joe hates me. Ha! Roy, I hate myself. You said that you can’t change the past, but how can I change the future when I can’t see any future at all?”

 

“I’d start with you, Adam. Change yourself, your own future. And maybe you need to look for a future. But I wouldn’t leave until this is over with one way or the other or it will haunt you forever,” Roy cautioned then cleared his throat as if clearing away the matter. “I’ll send word out to your pa to let him know that Joe is okay. I’ll keep him locked up a while until I am sure he ain’t gonna hurt himself no more but then I’ll have to let him go, Adam. Let me suggest that you get some sleep, boy. Maybe tend to your own business for a few days so your pa can cool down. Then maybe you can get this all straightened out.”

 

She shook the clinging dust from her voluminous black skirt and stood looking at her reflection in the window as she adjusted her heavy black veil with a gloved hand. For just a moment, she thought of how poorly she must look all dressed in black, in widow’s weeds. Black had never been her color but now it had to be. Shoving these thoughts aside, she opened the door before her and stepped into the cool office.

 

The young man behind the desk there looked up quickly. The woman standing there startled him and he stammered out “Can I help you?”

 

“Yes, you can,” came the soft southern drawl from behind the veil. “I am looking for an old friend of my husband’s. I was told that this was his place of business. Is Mr. Cartwright here? Mr. Adam Cartwright?”

 

The clerk quickly brushed down his rolled up sleeves and came to his senses at the mention of his boss’ name. If this woman were looking for Mr. Adam Cartwright, she had to be some one important enough to be offered every courtesy he could provide.

 

“No ma’am, he’s not here right now. My name is James Lewis and I help Mr. Cartwright run Sacramento Los Rios Freight,” the clerk finally introduced himself, his chest swelling with pride as he named the company Mr. Cartwright owned. He was totally at a loss to do anything with the gloved hand she extended to him except shake it.

 

“Does he live here in Virginia City?” she asked while silently praying for an affirmative. She had traveled too long a distance to want to continue any further. Also, she was out of ready funds to pay for such.

 

“Yes’m, he does but what with his family problems, Mr. Adam has been spending a lot of time out to his family’s ranch. I’ve been running the freight business here while he’s been busy. I expect you can find him out to the Ponderosa,” James volunteered, growing bolder now.

 

“How far is this ranch of his?” she asked and wondered if James was going to offer her anything in the way of a drink of something cool.

 

“It’s a couple of hours just outside of town. Anybody down to the livery could give you directions when you get a rig to ride out in.”

 

The woman in black steadied herself against the back of the chair in front of her. Hearing how far away her goal was made her regret ever taking this trip in the first place. So near and yet so far, she thought.

 

“Perhaps I could just leave a message for him? Just ask him to call on me at the hotel at his earliest convenience,” and she turned to go, her skirts swirling over the wide plank floor.

 

“And who should I say–?” James called out but by that time the door was closing behind her and she was gone.

 

“Anything I need to take care of while I’m in town, James?” Adam asked, his hand rubbing across the stubble on his chin, besides a night in my own bed, a shave, some of the Washoe Club’s steak and potatoes, he continued silently.

 

“No sir. Everything’s going just fine, sir. But there was a strange lady in earlier this morning. Said she was looking for you and for you to call on her at the hotel when you had the chance.”

 

Shuffling through the papers that had piled up on his desk during his absence, Adam absently asked what her name was but James answered that she hadn’t left her name. His lips closed tightly to keep from blurting out how incompetent he thought James was, Adam remained silent.

 

“Well, I’m going home for a while then I will probably go back out to the ranch. If she comes in again, get her name, will you? How am I supposed to go to the hotel and ask for her if I don’t know her name?”

 

“But, Mr. Cartwright, I imagine that Cyrus would remember her real well,” James countered, naming the clerk behind the desk at the International House.

 

“And that would be because…?” Adam drew out the last word, trying his best not to picture the one woman he wished it would be asking for him to meet her at the hotel: Honor.

 

“She said she was the wife to a friend of yours. But she was dressed all in black. Black dress, gloves. Even a heavy black veil. Mighty hot lookin’ it was. And she kind of dusty too. Like she had just come in on the stage or somethin’.”

 

Lowering his glance again to the papers on his desk, Adam made a decision that perhaps he would stop by the International House. But that would be after he had had a long hot soak in his own tub, a nap in his own bed in his own house on B Street right there in Virginia City.

 

“Can you take care of things a while longer here, James? My brother still isn’t capable of taking over the running of the ranch yet,” Adam lied and hoped James wasn’t perceptive enough to pick up on it.

 

Adam needn’t have. James had been at the Bucket of Blood the night before and watched Joe Cartwright take on two men twice his size. Although James had stayed out of the fracas, the fact that Joe had nearly beaten the two men hadn’t surprised him. It did surprise him that his employer felt constrained enough about the situation to lie to him about his brother’s condition. James thought that the only reason Joe Cartwright wasn’t back to running his own affairs would have more to do with a hangover and the after affects of the fight.

 

“No sir. Everything is fine here,” James repeated, “especially since you got that new draft stock from your brother. Only problem we’ve had is keeping up with business. Have you given any more consideration to expanding the line? I know you had talked about before your brother took bad but wondered if you had given it any more thought?”

 

Adam shook his head. Yes, before Joe’s heart condition had arose, Adam had considered expanding his freighting company to the east to include points in eastern Nevada, Elkhart and the like that were not currently on the rail line. But those plans had been put aside to help tend to his family’s main interest: the Ponderosa. Maybe now was a good time to pull those thoughts back out and dust them off. But even as he considered just the thought of doing so, he recalled who actually owned the Sacramento Los Rios Freight Line. Almost a year ago, he had sat in a lawyer’s office in Sacramento and watched his baby brother buy the dying line then sign it over to him for the princely sum of one dollar, to be paid for in installments of a beer upon occasion. No, Joe in all actuality and fairness owned the company, never having taken more than two beers from Adam over the past year. With that thought and reminder of the true power his brother wielded over his life, Adam’s own heart pounded loudly in his ears. Would Joe choose to expose the ownership sham and embarrass Adam? Adam doubted that Joe would do such a thing to him but there again, he would have thought himself incapable of some of the things he had done to his brother over the past several months. Would Joe be any different? Could he not want to strip his brother of whatever dignity Adam had the same way he thought Adam had done him? Suddenly, Adam felt very tired. And very dirty.

 

The clerk at the registration desk did indeed recall the woman in black. When he said she had signed the guest register as Mrs. Athena Dawson, Adam had to think back more than a few years to place the name. As he climbed the steps to the second floor room, he took steps back in time.

 

He was just twenty-one at the time, in between his junior and senior year of college. His roommate for the last year was a southerner by the name of Isaiah Dawson from Charleston, South Carolina. He was a glorified dandy, if ever Adam had met one. His family owned a large plantation and roughly a thousand slaves, making him a wealthy man. But Isaiah was also something of the family’s black sheep as he wanted to write novels. Not of the sort that would ennoble his name but novels of romance and dashing adventure in the far west. So it had been that Isaiah had latched onto Adam Cartwright like a leech, not only pumping him dry of his knowledge of western life but also finagling an invitation to spend the summer at the Ponderosa.

 

There the young friend had not only reveled in it but seemed to embrace the lifestyle with abandon, much to Adam’s embarrassment at times. It was only with a stern letter from Isaiah’s father, that he had returned to school that fall to finish his degree work in English. After commencement, Isaiah had insisted that Adam go with him to his own home in South Carolina and be the best man at his forthcoming nuptials. Reluctantly Adam had agreed.

 

He recalled the bride but slightly. She was young, younger than Isiah by a good six or seven years. Adam had sat across the table from her at the rehearsal dinner and saw a timid, quiet girl with nearly black hair done up in an elaborate coiffure that he supposed was current fashion. But it had been her eyes that captured his attention more than anything else that sultry night. They were deep pools of emerald green. And as she had looked across to him, he saw only pain and sadness there. He had thought to ask her why she was so sad but Society would not allow a private moment for such discussion.

 

Now, more than twenty years later, the same question came to mind as he came to stand before her door.

 

The woman who answered the door was still as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair, now loosed from the confines of her widow’s bonnet, hung like a black shawl down her back, nearly to her waist. Her face, unlined by years, seemed as young as that evening years before yet it was more confident. And her eyes were still deep emerald pools of sadness.

 

“You came,” were her first words to him and they were the first he thought he had ever heard spoken directly to him.

 

“Hello, Mrs. Dawson. Or should I call you Athena?” Adam suddenly felt very much like a schoolboy, so unsure of what was proper.

 

She laughed at his discomfort and stepping back from the doorway, gestured for him to enter. As he passed her, she took careful stock of him. Yes, he was everything and more she remembered. He was taller than Isaiah had been and far more self-assured. Everything about Adam Cartwright had been different from her husband and she rejoiced in the difference. Even now as she stood quietly appraising him, she liked what she saw: wide shoulders that filled out the simple white shirt he wore, the buttons straining a bit across his chest. His hands carelessly toying with his black Stetson hat as he stood, feet slightly apart. His eyes, dark ebony eyes, that gazed at her levelly across the room. There was one thing for certain. He simply and easily radiated power. And power attracted Athena Dawson like a moth to a flame.

 

“Please, just call me Athena. This is really so awkward, I know. But I had to come. I had to find you. You know about Isaiah. Don’t you?” and Adam found himself listening more to the sound of her voice, soft and low, like the sound of the breeze sighing through honeysuckle vines on a wide veranda on a hot summer afternoon.

 

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t been in touch with any of our school mates for quite some time. What about Isaiah?” Adam asked, silently begging her to talk to him forever.

 

“Well, you know that when the War Between the States came, we fled to England. We were in hopes of maintaining our business partnerships and therefore his family’s property. It didn’t work out. When the Union army came through Charleston, we, of course, lost everything. For a while we pretended that it was all some bad dream but eventually, we had to face facts. Isaiah went to work at a newspaper for a while but you remember him. He was always dreaming of some such wild scheme. Chasing rainbows, I called it. Through it all, the ups and downs, he kept working on his novel. You know, the one he started right after his visit here,” she explained.

 

Adam shook his head. This was the first he had heard of Isaiah actually writing a novel. He had heard his friend planning it endlessly over their last year in school together but as far as Adam had known, Isaiah had never put pen to paper. “So he finally got around to writing it, did he?” Adam couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

For the first time, Adam saw her smile. It seemed to recreate the woman, giving her the beauty Adam somehow associated with whom she was named for, Athena, the goddess of wisdom. There seemed to be about her a calm dignity of purpose and understanding and for just a brief moment, Adam forgot where he was and why he was there.

 

“Yes, he not only started it, but nearly finished it as well before he died last year. Before he died, he begged me to find you and to give it to you to read before I gave it to a publishing house. I need to finish it, Adam. But I know nothing about what he was writing. That is why I came here to find you. Please, read it. Then tell me how to finish it,” she begged. Little did she know but at that moment, had she asked for the moon, Adam was very much inclined to get it for her.

 

“But of course I’ll help you out however much I can. I have to warn you though, I am not a very good writer. Something about putting words to paper sometimes escapes me,” he warned playfully, knowing all the while that it wasn’t in the least bit true.

 

“You don’t have to write a thing. Just talk to me about what life is like out here in the west. I’ll do the writing. When can we begin?”

 

“Why don’t we begin after I take you to dinner? There’s a place here in town that serves the best steak this side of Saint Louis,” Adam surprised himself in offering to take her out.

 

“But shouldn’t you let your wife and family know that you won’t be home for supper? Better yet, perhaps I should meet your wife and explain to her. I know I would be highly suspicious if my husband was seen in town with another woman,” she teased lightly and instantly regretted her words. They had cast a sudden dark shadow across his face, making him appear older and sadder. “I’m sorry,” came her apology quickly.

 

“No,” and he tried to smile, “don’t be sorry. I’m not married.”

 

“Oh,” and her slim, ivory-white hand fluttered to her throat, “then perhaps I should apologize to the woman who does occupy your life then. Your intended, I presume?”

 

“No,” he replied and this time he did smile but it failed to reach his eyes. “There is another woman but you don’t need to concern yourself with her.”

 

Something in the off-hand way he said it piqued her curiosity concerning the other woman. All through their dinner at the Washoe Club, they avoided any discussion other than the weather, the theater and the arts. Once dinner was over, Adam surprised himself by asking her to attend a production by a traveling Shakespearean troupe that was showing at the Piper Opera House.

 

“I must confess, sir, that I am rather tired. Can we perhaps put it off for another night?” and he reluctantly agreed.

 

He sat in his favorite chair in his book-lined study on B Street late that evening. Adam let the brandy make lazy circles in the glass he held. He watched the firelight dance in its dark swirls and let his mind wander aimlessly. He often did that when faced with problems he couldn’t immediately find answers to and tonight one problem stood out foremost: what was he going to do to change his future.

 

Roy Coffee had been right: You couldn’t change the past, only the future. But there was a huge difference between saying the words and making them reality.

 

“Reality,” he said out loud to no one there. “Just which reality is real? Circular logic, Adam, gets you no where. You need to face reality but which reality? The reality that says your brother is a fool? That his own jealousy brought this on us? Or the reality that says you should have never stayed in the first place? The one that says you had no business ever even letting yourself think of Honor as anything but your sister-in-law? That I was the fool in all of this fiasco, not Joe? Yes, Roy, you were right. I can only change the future. But change it how? If I leave now, I’m like a whipped dog, running from the scene of a crime. It would tell everyone that I am guilty and I’m not. If I stay, I would see her and I would want her, no matter what I tell myself.” He took another long pull at the smooth brandy and let it burn down his throat. “Reality,” he repeated, “is what is left after chaos.

 

Okay, I’ve been through chaos if last night was any semblance of it. What’s left? My brother is a broken drunk sleeping it off in jail. My father is an angry man without a clue how to put the pieces of our lives back together again. My sister-in-law is a woman in such a state of disbelief that her world is turned upside down she can’t function. And me? Here I sit, playing philosopher, acting like none of this has touched me in the least. I’m a fraud, that’s what I am. Honor was right. I’ve never experienced passion. Not like that. I’ve lied to myself any number of times and said I did but I haven’t. No, but I have faked it any number of times in my life. So many times.

 

Why couldn’t I have what Joe has just once in my life? Maybe then I could stop wandering. Maybe then I could live happily ever after.”

 

For several long moments, he stared into the flames of the fire at his feet, his mind blank, his thoughts unformed. The clock on the mantle chimed midnight but Adam didn’t hear it. He took the last swallow of brandy and let it slip down his throat but didn’t feel it warming him. He allowed his mind to slip back to an earlier time, a happier time when he was a young boy of maybe a dozen years.

 

He recalled slipping into his father’s lap and curling up there, his father’s arm about him protectively. As he sat there, his head resting on his father’s chest, he could feel as well as hear his father’s deep voice rumble in his chest as he told a story to his two sons as his brother Hoss sat on their father’s other side, nestled against him too. In his memory of that night, Adam saw that Hoss was already asleep, his round cherubic face pressed to Pa’s shirt and he could feel the tug of sleep himself.

 

But then the peace of the memory was shattered by another one that some how overlapped it. Adam saw himself standing at his father’s knee, and in the space there at his father’s side he usually took, was his youngest brother, a small baby with bright eyes. And for the first time in his life, Adam had felt jealousy. His brother had taken his place, stolen his father from him somehow. And Adam realized with a jolt, that ever since that night, he had struggled to regain what he thought he had lost. He would fight his youngest brother for his place while Joe never realized what the fight was all about, never knowing what he had taken from Adam: his sanctuary, his peace.

 

“Was that what I was doing with you and Honor, Joe? Taking away your sanctuary, because I thought you had done the same to me years ago by just being born? That’s been it all these years, hasn’t it? The jealousy didn’t start with Honor. It started with Pa. I never knew, no, I never realized it until now. Oh God, Joe, you couldn’t have known either but you’ve paid the price for it for all your life.” He closed his eyes to the bright flames and whispered two words. “I’m sorry.”

 

And a single tear tracked down his cheek.

 

“Let me out of here, Roy Coffee!” came the shout forceful enough to be heard on the sidewalk passing the jail. Inside, Roy calmly picked up his cell keys and sauntered into the holding area. There was only one prisoner there: a very irate, red-faced Joseph Cartwright. Again the shouted demand for release came but Roy stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. He wondered if Joe realized he had slept an entire day and night. Not that it had mattered to the sheriff, considering the shape the younger man had been in when Roy had hauled him out of the Bucket of Blood.

 

“Not until you calm down some, boy,” the sheriff cautioned, giving his mustache a thumb-stroke to smooth it.

 

“I am calm!” Joe roared, the lie evident in the shout.

 

“Don’t seem to me that you are. You keep up like this and you’re liable to do yourself more harm than good. Ease up a bit.”

 

His chest heaving, Joe eyed the lawman carefully. Then little by little, he did as Roy asked. When he finally drew in a deep breath and held it, his heart did stop hammering and resumed a more normal rhythm.

 

“Now let me out of here. You have no reason to hold me, Roy,” Joe pointed out flatly when Roy made no motion to unlock the door.

 

Ticking the items off his fingers one by one, Roy made his list: “Creating a public disturbance. Public drunkenness. Brawling. Property damage. Not to mention resisting arrest. Then there’s the little matter of doin’ exactly what I told you not to do: coming into town. You’ve gotten yourself in a peck of trouble here, boy.”

 

“You can’t keep me out of town, Roy, and you know it. I have just as much right as the next man to come into Virginia City any time I want. As for those other charges, what’s the fine? I’ll pay it and be on my way, thank you.”

 

“Well, I ain’t got the total from Bruno yet on the damages-”

 

“I’ll settle up with Bruno on my own. Just open this damn door and let me out!”

 

Roy Coffee grunted softly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the younger man in his jail cell. “Mighty big demands for a man behind bars, boy,” he said evenly then watched as Joe exploded as he knew he would.

 

“DON’T CALL ME ‘BOY’! I’M NOT A CHILD ANY MORE!”

 

“Then quit acting like one,” Roy warned and turned to walk out of the holding area. His name shouted out behind him shook the windowpanes in the front of his office. “I told you when I came in here that I would let you out iffen you’d calm down. I can see that you’re still riled up quite a bit so you can holler all you like, Joe Cartwright, but you are staying right here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got things to do. By the way, Adam was in yesterday, looking for you.” Roy said, his back still turned to his prisoner.

 

It was as if someone had suddenly thrown a bucket of cold water on Joe’s fierce temper. At just the mention of his brother’s name, he went from heated rage to cold calculated and deliberate anger. “Adam was here?” he asked.

 

“Yep, sure was. You were sleepin’ it off. He and I had a long talk ’bout what was going on.”

 

“That son-of-a-bitch. Couldn’t wait to get into town and tell everyone he knew how he’s hung horns on his brother,” Joe hissed, the white-hot rage creeping back into not only his voice but everything about him.

 

“He did no such a thing, Joe. I had to drag the information out of him. Did it so I would know what’s burning you up from the inside out. Answered a lot of my questions ’bout your behavior of late, he did. Did it ever occur to you that you were wrong, Joe?” Roy explained careful to keep his voice low so Joe would have to listen closely to hear him.

 

“No, Roy, I’m not wrong about this. My brother and my wife were having an affair right in my own house. I saw them! I heard them!” but even as he said the words, a measure of doubt crept in. It had been so easy when he had confronted them; he had been so sure of himself then.

 

“You actually saw them? Or did you just think you did?”

 

“I saw the way they looked at one another! I saw how she watched him! For God’s sake Roy, I saw the expression on my brother’s face when he touched her hair, her hand. I saw him help her off her horse, letting his hands stay there on her waist. I watched as she leaned into him. Then, that night, she wouldn’t.” and Joe hesitated before he continued, feeling slightly embarrassed by the revelation, “make love to me. Why? Because she’d been out with him!”

 

“But did you ever actually see them kissing or the like?” Roy repeated.

 

Joe’s fist burrowed into his other palm with force. “Adam wouldn’t be that obvious, Roy. He’s always been the sneaky, conniving type. No, he waits until I’m damn near dead before he decides to move in on my wife.”

 

“But did you ever see them?” Roy insisted, wishing he could reach through the cell bars and shake some sense into Joe.

 

Then it came. The signal that Roy Coffee had been waiting for that gave Joseph Cartwright away every time when his words still proclaimed certainty but his mind did not. Joe bit down on his lower lip and his eyes dipped to the floor.

 

“I didn’t have to see them at it to know they were, Roy. I just know it. That’s all,” Joe admitted softly. And as he said those words, everything about his body language changed: his shoulders slumped forward, his head dropped and Joe seemed to curl in on himself as he stood there in the cell.

 

“You just know it,” Roy repeated, shaking his head as he did so. “That wouldn’t hold water in any court I know of, Joe. I think you got to do the same thing I told your brother to do.”

 

Instantly, Joe looked up and his body stiffened but Roy continued. “I reminded him that you can’t change the past but you can the future. I think you got some heavy thinkin’ to do about your future, Joe. Yours, your wife’s, your sons’, all of your family’s. You got it within you to change it all, Joe. You just have to want to.”

 

“Then let me out of here, Roy.”

 

Out in the office area, the sheriff gave Joe back his revolver and watched as Joe automatically checked the rounds in the chamber before he slammed it into his holster. Roy reconsidered letting Joe go but knew the younger man could have easily overpowered him at that moment should he try to put him back in the cell.

 

“You gonna do like I said, Joe?” he questioned.

 

Joe shifted his gun in his holster, letting the butt come into his palm before he let it slide back to rest lightly in the leather. “Yeah, Roy, I’m gonna go change a few futures right now,” he hissed and started passed the lawman only to have Roy’s hand snake out and grab his left bicep in a hard grip.

 

“I don’t want no gunplay over this. You hear me? You leave town. You get on that horse of yours and ride home to your family.”

 

“There won’t be any gunplay, Roy. I can promise you that. And I will leave town, but home? To my family? Unfortunately, Roy, I don’t have that any more. I am headed for the Ponderosa and I am taking my sons away from there. To hell with you and your moralizing, your changing the future. Save it for someone who gives a damn because I don’t,” Joe spat out and he wrenched his arm from the lawman’s hand. With long angry strides carrying him away, he yanked open the jailhouse door and went through it, a far different man than Roy Coffee had ever known.

Chapter 4:

Out of long habit, Ben sat behind his desk; ledgers open before him that afternoon, but kept an ear tuned for the cry of one of his grandsons. It would take the smallest cry and he would make the excuse to go to the child. He had always tried his best not to meddle in their rearing but it seemed that it was an effort wasted on his part. Honor and Joe had welcomed his help many a time during the eight months the twins had been with them. There always seemed to be the need for an extra hand to pat a little one’s back, change a diaper, or rock a fractious baby to sleep.

 

But the sound that came to him was not caused by a baby. Leaving his ledgers, Ben crossed to the French doors there in the dining room and tapped lightly. When Honor opened the door, he was surprised by what he saw. Spread out over the bed and chair and dresser were Honor’s dresses and things. On the floor in the center of the room stood an open steamer trunk, half full.

 

“Oh, Father Ben! You startled me. I thought you were Hop Sing. I asked him to get me-” Honor rattled uncharacteristically, trying to cover up what she had been doing.

 

“You’re packing? Why?” Ben asked, moving into the room, his disbelief apparent.

 

“I’m taking the boys and leaving. I have to, Father Ben. I can’t stay here,” she confessed, her hands twining around themselves.

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s not right, that’s why! This is the only home Joe has ever known and for him to feel not welcomed here is not right! This is his life, this ranch is his world. The only one he’s ever known and I can’t in good conscience take it away from him by staying here. He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want me any more now that he thinks I’ve been unfaithful to him. So I can’t stay.” She absently brushed her hand across her cheek, as if making sure no tear had escaped. “Excuse me, now. I have a good deal of packing to do.”

 

Ben shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing a hold of Honor’s shoulders and shaking her. With his lips pursed tight and looking at the floor, he simply said, “No.”

 

Eyes wide, Honor turned to face him again, “What do you mean by that? You can’t keep me here against my will, Father Ben.”

 

Praying to keep his heaving emotions under control, Ben responded evenly. “If you want to go, you are right, I can’t keep you here. You are a free woman, Honor and I don’t have a doubt in the world that you can take care of yourself. I said ‘no’ because I will not let you take my grandsons away from here. This is the only home they have ever known and if it is wrong for Joseph to be forced from his home, the same goes for those babies.”

 

Honor took a half step back, appalled by what she had heard from her beloved father-in-law. She took a deep ragged breath. “So you’re taking Joe’s side in this? Even after what I told you the other night? That there was nothing going on between Adam and I?” Her voice was edged with incredulity.

 

“No again, Honor. The only side I am taking in this whole fiasco is that of my grandchildren. They will remain here. With me. Where you go and what you do, I can not control. But the babies stay here where they can be cared for and loved,” and Ben’s own deep voice, seeking to impart strength and reason, began to shake as he came to fully comprehend the magnitude of his sudden decision.

 

“You can’t do that!” she screamed. “You can’t take my children from me!”

 

“Then don’t leave. It is as simple as that. Stay. Somehow and some way, we will find a way to make Joseph see that the barbwire he has wrapped around his heart needs to be cut away. I’m not sure I could do that if you weren’t here to help me but I will certainly try on my own if I need to. I believe you and I believe Adam when you tell me that this is all a misunderstanding. But even a misunderstanding has a foundation of truth, Honor. You yourself said that you had flirted with Adam. You let it get away from you some where along the way and now we are all paying the price for your carelessness. I have always admired how you have stood up to the world and done the right thing, Honor. It made me proud to have you as a daughter-in-law. But now? Seeing this?” and he spread his hands, gesturing to the trunk and things spread about the room. “This isn’t right and you know it. If you feel truly innocent and totally wronged by what has happened, finish your packing. Leave here and never look back. But AJ and Hoss stay here. If you try to take them, I will use every resource the Ponderosa will afford me to get them back. And that, as I am sure you know, is considerable. And I am sure you would come to hate me for it. But that is the price I am willing pay. Are you?”

 

As he watched, Ben saw the tears build in her blue eyes then begin to run down her cheeks unfettered. Just as he knew his sons’ worlds were in shattered pieces at their feet, so was hers. Perhaps more so since it involved her children as well. He gently put his hands on her shaking shoulders.

 

“I love him, Father Ben. I always have and I always will,” she whispered, her voice small and child-like now, lost of its defiance and anger.

 

“Joseph?” he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her.

 

“There has been no other in my life and never will be. I was stupid and if he were here, I would tell him. I would stand and take any punishment he, or you, would give me for my foolishness. But don’t take my children away from me. And let me tell Joe one last time that I love him.”

 

“If that will help you get beyond your guilt,” Ben said, gently wiping away the continual stream of tears from her cheeks with his thumbs as he held her face in his big hands, “then that is your punishment.” She began to pull away but he held her fast and continued. “Tell my son each and every day from now until forever that you love him and only him. And make him believe it with everything you say and do from here on out. Can you do that?”

 

With her face raised, her eyes bright with tears, Honor answered him. “Just give me one chance.”

 

Ben folded her into his embrace and held her as she cried the last of her tears. Now if I could only find a suitable punishment to absolve my own guilt, he thought. That he knew was going to be much harder to do.

 

With a flick of his wrist, Candy flipped the hammer over once in his hand then whistling tunelessly, dropped it back into the bucket of fencing staples at his feet. With a forearm, he pushed the sweat from his brow as he looked across the broad expanse of pasture he and his crew had been busy working at fencing around since early morning. The green grass, lush and tall, waved like a mirage in the heat of the noonday sun. Putting his fingers to his lips, he whistled shrilly to get the other men’s attention then called for them to take a lunch break. No one argued with his decision but quickly drifted back to where a wagon stood under the trees. Candy was headed there himself when he saw a familiar black and white pinto cantering across the open pasture towards him.

 

“Howdy, Boss!” Candy called out cheerfully when Joe was not far from him. But Joe made no motion that indicated he had heard the greeting, just kept riding until he was nearly on top of his ranch foreman.

 

“I need your help with something, Candy,” Joe ordered brusquely without even looking down at the man, his friend, who stood at his stirrup.

 

Quickly, Candy assessed the situation. It was obvious to him that at some point in recent time, Joe had been in a fight. There was a bruise along his jawline and his knuckles showed ample scrapes as well. Candy thought that last particular bit of information odd since normally Joe wore gloves to protect his hands, and not just from the occasional fist fight. Since his marriage to Honor years ago, those black gloves had almost become as much a trademark of his friend as the pinto horse he rode. Candy had at first teased him about them but Joe’s remark of when Candy married, he would understand had been right on the money. Hard callused hands and a woman’s soft skin didn’t mix real well and Candy had started wearing gloves as well. But that afternoon, Joe’s gloves were missing. And Candy didn’t think that was all that was missing in his friend’s life.

 

“Sure! What’s up? We got to move the cattle from -” Candy started only to have Joe cut him off by riding away, clearly expecting Candy to follow.

 

When Candy finally caught up with Joe, they were nearly to the main house. A touch angry by how he was being treated, Candy had reached out and grabbed Joe’s arm, pulling them both to a stop.

 

“What in tarnation is wrong with you, Cartwright? If you expect my help in something, you better be telling me here and now what you’re after.”

 

To Candy’s surprise, Joe jerked his arm away from Candy’s grasp. “If you work for me, you’ll either do what you’re told or you won’t work for me. It’s that simple. Now come on!” Joe ordered hotly but Candy kept his horse pulled back as Joe started away.

 

As soon as he realized he was alone, Joe pulled Cochise up sharply then rounded back to where Candy still sat in the middle of the road.

 

“I said come on! Didn’t you hear me?”

 

“I heard you but I still want to know what has got you so all fired worked up? What’s with you, Joe?” Candy asked, taking the proverbial bull by the horns.

 

“Damn!” Joe cursed. “So that’s the way it is, huh? You’re taking his side? Well I have news for you, Canaday. Unless you’ve heard otherwise, I still control the Ponderosa and that means I am still your boss. Pack your stuff and get out of the foreman’s house. You’re fired!”

 

“I ain’t gonna listen to that, Joe. And I am not gonna be treated like some two-bit drifter just signed on for a season. You owe me an explanation and I’m gonna have one or I’m gonna pound your head into the ground. Right here and now!”

 

Surprised by Candy’s reaction, Joe flung himself from the back of his horse and reaching up, drug Candy down into the dirt as well. For a few moments, fists flailed, making solid impact on hard lean bodies. Granted, looking back, Candy knew he had taken more of the blows but he had given his fair share as well. But it took one solid uppercut that he wished he could take back that put Joe, stunned, at Candy’s feet.

 

“Now you gonna talk to me about what this is all about or do I pull you up and have another go around?” Candy challenged, wiping away a trickle of blood from his cut lip.

 

Joe stayed on the ground. Candy extended his hand down and Joe took it, pulling himself back upright.

 

“You, uh, okay, Joe?” Candy asked cautiously, trying to check his friend over for signs to the contrary. He had been surprised to have taken Joe so easily and it had frightened him that perhaps Joe was on the verge of another heart attack. But he was even more astounded when Joe merely shook his head and turned to swing back into his saddle.

 

“Joe! Wait a minute,” Candy called to Joe’s back.

 

“You heard what I said. You’re fired. I want you out of the foreman’s house by the end of the day.”

 

“And if I refuse? What are you gonna do then? Try to whip me again? You ain’t up to that, old friend. That’s pretty plain to see. Maybe you need to explain to me what this is all about, Joe,” the foreman pleaded.

 

“As if you don’t know already?” Joe raged back, his knuckles white on the saddle-horn before him.

 

“You are right there! I have no idea what’s goin’ on-” Candy tried to explain but Joe cut him off.

 

“Like Adam didn’t come down and tell you? He told you, didn’t he? That he has it all now? Like that bitch of a wife of mine doesn’t talk to your wife? Try again, Canaday. Your pretense of ignorance is just as shallow as Honor’s.”

 

Lightning fast, Candy reached up and grabbed a hold of Joe’s shirtfront and pulled him back down from the saddle. Beyond any semblance of restraint, he hit Joe and hit him hard. When Joe went down, Candy leaned over and pulled him to his feet again only to hit him again. This time when Joe went down, Candy stood over him, fist clenched, chest heaving with exertion.

 

“I don’t know what your problem is, Cartwright, but I do know this: I don’t like what I just heard come out of your mouth. Maybe it’s time Anne and I did move on if this is what you are gonna be like. Don’t bother with my pay. It wouldn’t be worth having to deal with you again to collect it. We’ll be out of the house by morning.”

“And that’s what happened, Mr. Cartwright. From out of the blue, he’s like some wild man right now. Out of control. I’m sorry I hit him like I did but I wasn’t going to stand there and let him say things like that about Honor. She’s been too good to Anne for me to listen and believe anything bad ’bout her. But with Anne being as close to delivering as she is, I was in hopes I could get you to let us stay on until after the baby is born,” Candy explained as he stood in the study of the main house, his hat twisting nervously in his hands as he spoke to the man he most respected above all others.

 

“That’s not a problem, Candy. In fact, I want you to stay. Period. Right now, we are all under a lot of stress and I am afraid that Joseph is just as you say: out of control. He came here earlier and when I wouldn’t let him have his sons to take with him, he and I nearly came to blows as well. I need your help Candy. Someone has to make him listen to reason and after this afternoon, I am sure that isn’t me.”

 

“Mr. Cartwright, tell me what’s going on ’cause I don’t understand it. You say Joe came to take the boys. Where? Why?” Candy nearly pleaded and was surprised when Ben looked to the floor instead of into his eyes. But Candy listened carefully as Ben told him what had happened.

 

“…And that is that, as they say. I am afraid Joseph did what he always does and jumped to conclusions. I believe Honor and I believe Adam but I can’t get through to Joseph. He has his mind made up. So you see, I need someone to talk to him. To make him realize that he is wrong. To make him see that his suspicions are tearing up six lives needlessly. And, quite honestly, I am afraid that his recent behavior may prompt another heart attack.”

 

“And this time around, he isn’t in as good a shape as the first one and you’re afraid it would kill him, aren’t you?” Candy found himself reaching out with a comforting hand to touch the older man’s shoulder as they stood there before the great stone fireplace. The shoulder under his grip sagged then straightened.

 

“Yes,” Ben whispered the word. “I want him to come home, Candy, so we can sit down and talk about this like adults.”

 

“You mean by that ‘we’, Honor, Adam and Joe, right? That means not only getting Joe to see the light but Adam as well, doesn’t it? And I don’t see him here. Haven’t for a few days, at least.”

 

Ben’s silver head nodded once. “I am afraid that getting Adam back here might be more difficult than getting Joseph here. Adam seemed very intent on leaving the last time I talked with him. I do know that he is still in Virginia City, probably looking after his own business and wishing he had never listened to his old man when he begged him to come back and run things here.”

 

Candy’s smile was more like a grimace. He had liked Adam Cartwright but never truly appreciated the man. He had always thought of Joe and Hoss as the only Cartwright brothers but with Adam’s return the previous fall, he had had to rethink the family structure he had seen. It hadn’t taken him but a minute to see the tension between Joe and Adam but up until Joe’s heart attack, Candy had tried to truly believe that things were better between them. Now he figured it had just taken a different turn.

 

“Mr. Cartwright, I will do what I can but I think you may be looking for a miracle. But the first hurdle is getting the two of them together someplace where Joe can’t go for Adam’s throat. Any suggestions?”

 

“Father Ben’s birthday is coming up and we are having a party here. Maybe there?” Honor spoke up and for the first time, the men realized they were not alone.

 

The woman Candy saw standing there was not the woman he had first seen years before. This woman’s hair was in disarray, her face tear-streaked. Usually, she would stand with her chin held high and her shoulders back. But today, Candy would have commented on how small and tired she looked, the baby AJ on her hip. A single word popped into his head when he watched her walk towards them. Defeated.

 

“And if I can get Joe to come, what then? You all have a big family powwow with all of your guests as witnesses? Should be something they would all remember!” Candy quipped but not in jest.

 

“No, but I think Honor is on to something, Candy. You just get word to Joseph that I want all of my sons at my party. I’ll do the rest,” Ben sighed. And in between now and then, maybe I can find a way to make myself understand what is happening.

 

“I can’t believe a word of that, Candy!” Anne exclaimed, her hands absently running over her belly.”Adam? Having an affair with Honor? That is utter nonsense. And thee? My own husband, taking advantage of Joe like that? Beating him? Thee should be ashamed of thyself.”

 

“I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it but Joe and he is so angry he is not going to listen to reason. But he deserved it when I belted him this afternoon. I just couldn’t help myself, Anne. ‘Magine you would have hit him too if you’d heard him,” Candy defended himself against the little woman as he soaked his hands in the warm water. Taking one look at him when he had come in, she had at first assumed that he had fought with one of the hands. She had been appalled to discover he had fought with his boss but had brought him the basin of water. The chair he sat in at their table creaked as he shifted uneasily in it under her glare.

 

“Striking another in anger is not the Quaker way and thou knowst it. I would not and could not ever find myself that angry. Face it, husband, thee lost thy temper the same way Joe did his. And I think thou shouldst find him and apologize for thy behavior,” she insisted, her small hands making themselves into fists despite her condemnation of violence.

 

“Well, I told Mr. Cartwright that we would see if we could find Joe. He wants Joe to know that he wants him at his birthday party on Saturday, no matter what. I think that has a snowball’s chance in–never mind,” Candy finished lamely. No matter how long he was married to the reverent Anne, he would struggle tocurb his tongue in her presence.

 

“And?” she asked, turning back to the stove where she was putting the finishing touches on their dinner.

 

Candy grimaced. “Well, it’s like this. I got it figured that the only person he knows well enough to listen to in any of this is you. Or Hop Sing. And I can’t see Hop Sing not wanting to bash his brains in because he’s been so stupid. So that leaves you, my darling wife. Maybe if you went to him and talked to him, you could make him see what’s right and what’s wrong. Lord knows, I have never known for Joe Cartwright to strike an innocent person, much less a pregnant woman.”

 

“Thy knowledge of thy friend may be lacking in that respect. After all, he struck thee, did he not? And you claim innocence in all knowledge of this, ” she teased, stretching and arching her back.

 

“Well, maybe I kind of provoked him,” although looking back on the fight, Candy was sure that wasn’t the case.

 

Turning with a pan of cornbread pulled from the oven in her hand, Anne’s expression tightened. “Does any one know where he is? And maybe I should have a talk with Honor as well? And why not throw in Adam too? Dost thou think I can work miracles now?” She plopped the pan onto the tabletop, clearly showing her vexation with the plan Candy had envisioned going so differently.

 

“Sweetheart,” he crooned and wiping his hands on his dusty jeans, leaned over and took her hand in his. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

 

Her short snort showed just what she thought. “Okay then, thee shall find Joe and I will go and talk to him. But only after I talk with Honor. And tomorrow is soon enough for any of it. Now let me have my hand back so I serve thee thy supper, Mr. Canaday.”

 

Anne couldn’t sleep. Beside her on their soft feather bed, Candy snored softly, his hand atop her bulging belly as though to protect their unborn child. Absently, she stared at the crescent moon showing through their window. The task that had been placed before her was a daunting one in her opinion. While she had known the Cartwright family a number of years, she was still rather daunted by them. They were everything that she was not and she often felt intimidated by them, Honor especially. Had she not been born and raised in the religion of Friends, Anne considered that she would have wanted what Honor had. But there was a down side to the life her friend led. As she let the moonlight wash over her, Anne could number off those negatives and balance them against her own positives.

 

The baby within her stirred and drew Anne’s attention to it momentarily. I am so fortunate. It won’t be long now and I shall have my own child. And I shall not need the help that Honor seems to need. She has twins but so what? Other women have twins and do without any help at all. No, Honor, thee are weak indeed when it comes to the actual care of thy children. But maybe you are just taking advantage of the wealth your husband’s family has. Anne’s mouth turned down slightly. Funny, all their wealth and power doesn’t shield them from unhappiness. But this doesn’t help me with what I have to do. I have to find a way to get beyond my own hidden prejudices and help them. How do I go about making them see the right and the wrong that they have done one another?

 

It wasn’t until the moon set that she had her answer.

 

Who is she, Athena thought, this woman that you see instead of me when you look in my direction, Adam Cartwright? She has a powerful hold on you for some reason. Who is she? An old love you can’t get over? Somehow I can’t see you in that position, Adam.

 

“More wine?” Adam asked, breaking into Athena’s thoughts. For the third evening in a row, they had dined together, this night after an evening at Piper’s Opera House. There had been a passable portrayal of Romeo and Juliet. As they had taken their late supper together there at the International House, they had discussed the pros and cons of the play but there had been something missing in the discussion Athena thought.

 

Athena nodded to her glass and he poured out another measure of the full-bodied red wine they had chosen that evening. The meal was long since over and the dishes whisked away by the attentive waiters. Glancing around, she saw that they were the only patrons left there in the dining room. Over by the door, she caught a glimpse of the maître’d yawning behind his upturned hand.

 

“So, what do you think of our fair little town?” Adam asked, easily changing the subject. He had felt her attention shift and wondered briefly if it was perhaps the hour, the company or the subject they had been discussing.

 

“I’ve only been here a short while, Adam. I haven’t really seen that much of it! But I must admit, there are parts of it that I have grown comfortable with in just this short space of time,” and Adam agreed, having grown quickly fond of the young widow across the table from him.

 

“I also admit that I –” Adam started then quickly swallowing his wine, changed the subject. ” Well then,” as he extended his hand across the table, he rose,” Let me show you some of Virginia City!”

 

“But it is dark out!”

 

“Good! Then you will pay attention to me and not what I am supposed to be showing you!” he teased, slipping her light shawl around her shoulders and giving her his arm. “I think it is time that I took you out to see our most famous site, Lake Tahoe. And the best time to see that is at night. Come along, Athena.” His voice took on a lighter, bantering, younger tone if that were possible and she found herself dropping into the mood easily.

 

As the horse and surrey made their way easily over the dark roadway, Athena found herself again wondering about the woman Adam had never mentioned. He spoke of everything else as they rode along: his family’s ranch that he spoke of with a great deal of pride, his blossoming freighting line, his days with her late husband while they had been in school together. After a while, Adam seemed to draw into himself and they traveled in silence. But for some reason, the silence didn’t bother either one, it seemed so natural.

 

When they crested the last rise and she could see the glimmering lake below them, spread like a diamond-bedecked blanket there between the dark ominous mountains, she gasped. The view, as Adam had predicted, was enough to take her breath away.

 

“It’s even lovelier with a full moon,” he spoke, his voice slightly husky.

 

“I can imagine,” she said in awe then turned to him and playfully slapped his thigh. “I bet you bring all your lady-friends up here, don’t you?”

 

Surprised by the gentle and yet half-provocative slap, Adam chuckled. “If there were any of those lady friends, yes, I suppose I would bring them here.” Then just as quickly as the other mood had come, it changed back to somber.

 

“Who is she?” Athena asked, speaking aloud her thoughts. “Who is the woman who hurt you, Adam?”

 

He turned to look at her then just as quickly, turned to look away. “Are you always this abrupt?” he accused.

 

Taken aback by her own audacity, Athena laid a hand on the arm beside her. “I’m sorry, Adam. I didn’t mean to pry or anything like that. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 

Adam chuckled shortly. He leaned back against the surrey seat, letting the reins lay loosely in his hands. “Am I that easy to read?”

 

Clearly uncertain of just where this question had come from and where it would take her should she answer, Athena again apologized profusely. Adam held his hand up, and smiling, asked her to stop.

 

Again, the silence fell between them. The night sounds seemed loud to Athena but she said nothing to push them back. She was not afraid since he was there but the cool night air crept under her shawl and she shivered slightly.

 

“Do you want to go back to town now?” he asked, and she could almost hear him finish by saying ‘please tell me no’.

 

“No, let’s just sit here a while. You were right. It is beautiful…and a touch romantic too.”

 

“And you think that’s odd for someone like me?” he pushed. As he spoke he heard Honor’s accusation that he had never known passion.

 

Her hands grasped his arm tightly as she avowed that wasn’t what she meant.

 

And once again, silence came over them, this time staying for longer. When it was broken, it was Adam’s voice that cut into the night.

 

“You are right. I am not known for being a romantic. I always left that up to my younger brother Joseph. I could read a girl love poems and sonnets but he could make them lose their hearts. Charm always came so easy to him while I seemed to have to work at it. So me and romantic I guess are kind of at odds with one another.”

 

“Isiah was the same way. He thought that it would make him appear too frivolous to be romantic with me. He always wanted to be this serious person. He never realized that it could be different behind closed doors. That I was the only one there to judge him.”

 

“You sound like you weren’t happy with Isaiah,” Adam encouraged her to speak.

 

“I wasn’t, truly. I married him when I was much too young to know what I was getting into. That night of the rehearsal dinner where I first met you, I was only sixteen. I was a child but my mother insisted that I marry. She didn’t want an old maid on her hands she kept saying,” Athena laughed brusquely then continued. “I may as well have been an old maid for as much attention as Isaiah showed me. If I had known anything about writing, or your blessed west, I am sure he would have at least given me the time of day! Instead, he always made me feel like I was a burden to him. That I was to be tolerated.”

 

“But you stayed married to him.”

 

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘married’, Adam. Instead I would say that we became habituated to one another. He took to his writing like other men would a mistress. I was forced to find my life somewhere else. With someone else. And when the scandal became public, I would have thought Isaiah would have at least shown interest. But he didn’t. I remember him so clearly, sitting in his study that evening and blinking at me behind those damn thick glasses of his. Do you know what he said to me? About the whole sordid, tawdry affair? He asked me if I was pregnant! When I told him that I wasn’t, he just said ‘Oh, well I guess that’s one good thing about it.’ Shortly after that, his health began to fail.”

 

“And you like a dutiful wife-”

 

“Stayed beside him until the very end. I can’t explain it, Adam, my behavior, I mean. I should have left him and his damn book but I just couldn’t. But, truthfully, I was relieved when he died. I felt, I don’t know…not overjoyed but …relieved somehow. I’m not making any sense, am I? And I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she ended by chastising herself, pulling her arms tight to her.

 

Adam slipped his jacket off and draped it around her. Once done, he let his arm lay across her shoulders, bringing her closer to his side. “It’s all right. Sometimes it’s easier to tell things like that to someone you don’t know well. You think that maybe it will be all right since they don’t have a firm, set way of thinking about you. And that makes it easier.”

 

“Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding strained in the dark of the night and Adam was sure if the moonlight had been stronger that he would have seen tears on her face.

 

For a long time they sat that way, looking out over the lake, she leaning into him, his arm across her shoulders. When he did begin to speak, it nearly startled her for the sound of his voice was full of heartbreak.

 

“You asked about the ‘woman’. She belongs to someone else. She’s married. I thought…well I am not sure at this point in time just what I really did think. I knew that she and her husband were having some problems but I can’t use that to justify my actions. My thoughts. I have given it a lot of thought and not gotten anywhere except the possibility that I didn’t really want her.”

 

“I don’t understand, Adam. Your words say one thing but your tone another. I think you did want her.”

 

“No, I think I wanted what she represented,” then he paused, suddenly unsure if he should go any further. He found himself suddenly very interested in the leather reins in his hands.

 

“What did she represent to you?”

 

“Security, maybe. A place in the world, I guess. But I think most of all she represents something she accused me of never having had. Passion,” he finished almost wistfully as he resumed looking out over the lake.

 

“And you think if you had her, you would have those things?” Athena asked, her hand coming to rest on his thigh.

 

“It doesn’t matter, really. She made it abundantly clear that she is staying with her husband.”

 

“But you said that they were having problems. Maybe like with Isaiah and myself, this woman and her husband are just used to one another. You could make her see that! After all, the way you speak of her, she is worth the fight, isn’t she?”

 

“I can’t fight her husband, Athena. He…” and Adam paused, wanting to finish the sentence with ‘he’s my own brother’, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead he finished by saying, “he and I have known one another a long time. Rivals sometimes. Friends other times. He was the first person to welcome me home when I returned so up until now, I guess you could say that we were friends.”

 

“Am I to gather that he found out about the feelings you have for his wife? And that he didn’t take it well?”

 

Adam’s derisive snort told her all she needed to know. “No, the more I think of it, it wasn’t the woman herself I wanted but those things she represented. That I was using her to get to him. And she was right. I don’t believe I have ever experienced true passion. Not like what she talked about.”

 

“True passion is hard to come by, Adam.”

 

He turned to look at her and caught her profile in the thin light of the crescent moon. Her ivory skin seemed to glow and her dark hair caught and held the light. He found himself licking his suddenly dry lips so caught off-guard was he by her statement and the sound of her voice. “Surely-” he started then stopped himself abruptly. He was about to ask if she hadn’t experienced that seemingly elusive passion in her extra-martial affair. But it would be wrong to tread there, he felt.

 

“Once, yes,” she answered as if she had heard his thoughts.

 

“You women all make it sound like it’s magic or something,” he laughingly pointed out, hoping against hope to change the mood.

 

“If you have never experienced it, Adam, you have no right to make light of it.”

 

“I’m sorry, Athena. We have gotten way off base here. This discussion should have never—” and the normally articulate Adam Cartwright found himself floundering for words.

 

“Gone this far?” she completed his sentence then continued with her own. “Why not? You said so yourself that sometimes it is easier to talk about such with people we don’t know so well. And we are both intelligent capable human beings, old enough to have had many experiences. In your case, I would wager that some of those experiences involved women. A handsome man such as yourself, I am sure they did. But I would also wager that you and I could teach one another a few things, if we chose to listen to the other.”

 

Adam pulled up the slack reins and turned the horse and surrey around, away from the tantalizing beauty of the lake. With a snap, he sent the horse into a quick trot, headed back for Virginia City. It wasn’t until the lights of town showed over the last rise that either spoke again. And when the silence ended, it was Athena’s voice that broke it.

 

“I’ve a confession to make, Adam. When I first laid eyes on you, I fell hopelessly in love with you. But I was soon to be married and really had no idea what love was all about. Even after being married to Isaiah, I still have no idea what love is all about. Your passion, yes, for that seems to be completely different from love. I came west when Isaiah died, looking specifically for you. I didn’t come for help with Isaiah’s damnable book. It can rot unfinished for the rest of eternity for all I care about it. I came because I wanted to tell you that I love you but now I realize that it was a simple school-girl infatuation. I shall leave Virginia City in the morning.”

 

“No, don’t,” he croaked, surprised by not only her admission but something within himself. “Don’t leave Virginia City.”

 

“I have to,” Athena insisted. “I could not bear to stay here and see you, knowing you wanted another. That I would never have a chance for you to look at me the same way you would look at her. No, I must leave you to your unattainable woman.”

 

“You don’t give either of us much hope, do you?” he asked and she shrugged her shoulders in response so he went on. “Athena, I find you a most alluring woman. You are forthright and honest. There doesn’t seem to be any ‘coy’ in you. You make me wish that I had spoken with you the first night we met. Our lives might have turned out differently if we had.”

 

She laughed, the sound throaty and self-assured. “I was a much different person then, Adam. I doubt if you would have ever listened to that little girl for very long.”

 

“Then stay and let me get to know the woman she has become.”

 

Her ivory hand darted from the dark folds of her shawl and grasped his forearm. The suddenness of it made him turn instinctively to her as he pulled the horse to a sharp halt.

 

“On one condition will I stay any longer,” she said. “Kiss me like you would her.”

 

His dark eyebrows raised showed her how puzzled he was by her request but she repeated it.

 

“You don’t know what you are asking me to do,” Adam whispered, his throat tight at just the thought.

 

“Yes, I do. Now you have a choice, Adam. Kiss me and I will stay in Virginia City a while longer. Or don’t kiss me and I will be on the next stage out of town. Which is it?”

 

The intensity of the kiss he gave her at first frightened her. His lips crushed hers, grinding against hers until she parted them and felt him seeming to reach for her soul. His hands caught her face, keeping her there but she had no will to leave. One hand slipped to the back of her head, entangling itself in her hair and trapping her. She found herself willingly returning the ardor and the intensity with a fierceness all her own. When the kiss ended, both were breathless.

 

As Adam looked into her eyes, the depth he saw there struck him again. Pulling in his desires a notch, he gently kissed her forehead, her cheek, while letting his hands drop to her shoulders. His gut quivered with excitement as he considered his next move. He could turn the surrey around and they could return to romantic Lake Tahoe’s shores to finish the evening kissing like this. Or he could continue on to Virginia City and drop her at her hotel, leaving both burning with unspent desire. Or he could take her to his own small home and quench those raging fires.

 

“Do you know what I want?” he asked softly, urgently, raining kisses on her upturned face, feeling the dew soft skin there beneath his lips.

 

“What I have wanted for more than twenty years,” she breathed. Then she turned the tables and pressed her own ardent kiss, her small hands at first against the starched shirtfront then slipping lower to his waist. To her surprise, he backed away and she thought that she had misread the man.

 

He laid his cheek next to hers and whispered into her ear. “Not here. Not now.”

 

“If not here and now, when? I will not wait for you to get over this other woman. I can’t seem to compete with her.”

 

“No,” his velvet voice came again in her ear, this time the breath warm and tingling on its folds as she felt him kiss that lobe. “Let me,” and he kissed the side of her neck,”take you,” as the trail of kisses descended down to the hollow of her throat, “to my,” then dropping his voice even deeper, he pressed his lips to the top of her exposed cleavage, leaving a track of fire as they went, “home.”

 

With her hand under his chin, Athena brought his face back up to hers. “On one condition.”

 

Instead of asking what that condition was, Adam again kissed her, ravishing her lips, plunging his tongue into the warm moist mouth behind them when they easily parted under his onslaught. Again and again until she placed a restraining hand to his chest and pushed him back so she could speak.

 

“That I stay until the morning.”

 

His demanding kiss told her that he expected her to do just that.

 

In the thin cool hours just before dawn, the sun was gracefully tinting the underbellies of the soft cloud cover with the barest hint of rose. A misty light fog that had descended the night before began to lift delicately, exposing the wet grass and giving the near mountains a surreal appearance. Far away, the last trills of the nightingale ran wispy into the coming dawn.

 

And Adam Cartwright awoke slowly, not wanting the dream from the night before to depart just yet. He knew it had been a dream. The soft woman’s warmth that had come to him, had lifted him to new heights of pleasure could not have been real. Adam stretched, his arm arcing out over to the side of the bed where his dream had placed her. There was nothing there. A dream, he thought, it was only a dream. But it was so real. I remember having dinner with Athena, taking her to the lake then I must have brought her back to her hotel. For God’s sake I have only known the woman three days! I wouldn’t have, no I couldn’t have, so it must have been a dream. And with a great deal of sad reluctance, he opened his eyes.

 

She stood at the foot of his bed, her pale ivory skin seeming to glow in the gray morning light. Adam’s breath caught in his throat. It was no dream, the woman standing there, her long dark hair covering her breasts easily, watching him.

 

“I told you last night that this morning I would teach you what passion is, Adam. I see in your face that you have just experienced just the merest hint. Shh! Listen to me and learn,” she cautioned when he started to speak, reaching for her.

 

Obediently, he lay back and she continued. “Last night was pure and simple lust. Each one of us fulfilled the other’s bodily desire. It is what God gave to all living creatures: that craving to mate, in order to continue the species. Lust is important but the even rarer gift He gave mankind, is the passion that your desired woman told you that you lacked. Not any more, right now you are beginning to feel its power.” Still as she spoke, he felt an indescribable yearning growing within. “You see, passion is that feeling when you awake and reaching to your side, don’t find the warm body you crave. And this causes you concern because, above all else, at that moment, that is what you want: the warmth of another living soul beside you. Then when you open your eyes to search for that person, your heart catches when you see them like you are seeing me: naked before you without shame, open, available, yet standing apart. Look at me, Adam, and let your body remember what my body was like last night.”

 

With the silent grace of cat, Athena came to stand next to Adam’s side. He could not pull his eyes from her body, seeing her as if for the first time. But she was right, his body could remember hers. The silken skin, warm, and the delicate scent of lilac that she wore. The brush of her hair against his chest as she had leaned over him, her breasts barely brushing his chest. The pleasure she had given and taken without reserve. With the memory, he groaned.

 

“Then your body trembles, because even though you can see and remember, it isn’t enough. More than your body wanting release, your soul does too and you fear it may be denied you so your soul reaches for the other’s soul. Touch me, Adam, with just your fingertips.”

 

Hesitantly, he reached up and using just a single finger traced the valley between her breasts. He watched the expression on her face change, subtly softening and knew that his own did as well. With a hot rush he knew she was right. More than his body reaching and reacting to hers, his soul was calling to hers, crying for her to come to him. He knew he had to have her again that morning. And again that night and all the nights and mornings to come.

 

“And that, Adam Cartwright,” she whispered, slipping under the sheet beside his own naked body, “is Passion.”

 

On the far side of Virginia City, Joe Cartwright awoke to a pounding in his head as well as in his chest. Without opening his eyes, he pressed his head back into the pillows behind him and arched his back, trying to relieve both sensations. He took a deep breath and held it, smelling the stale scent of whiskey and a cheap perfume. His stomach quivered beneath his hand, threatening.

 

“Hey there, cowboy, it’s okay. All of us have an off night some times. Don’t mean nuthin'”, a sugary voice said beside him and he felt thick fingers creeping across his bare chest.

 

Then the rushing memories of the previous night overcame him. Stumbling from the bed, he managed to find the washbasin in time to empty his stomach into it and not onto the floor. As he leaned, cold and shaking, his head down over the putrid contents of the bowl, he felt her come up behind him.

 

“Now then, fella, you feel better? Maybe come back to bed and we can try again, huh?” she offered, her arms encircling him, her hands reaching for his manhood.

 

Joe didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to even feel her close to him so he brushed her imploring hands away roughly and staggered back to the bed. He remembered being drunk the night before but that was no excuse, he told himself. For the past week, he had stayed drunk nearly the entire time. But last night, loneliness had crept over him and the drinking he had done had not alleviated it. So instead of going back to his hotel room, he had gone to visit the soiled doves down on C Street. He easily gained access to one that years ago had been his favorite: The Gilded Lily. The madam there had welcomed him suspiciously.

 

“Listen, Joe Cartwright. I don’t want no trouble, you understand. I don’t know why you’re even here, truth be told. You got a wife and young’uns at home so why don’t you go there?”

 

“Now I know that you don’t turn away married customers,” Joe had drunkenly teased her, toying with her golden ringlets.

 

“I ought to when they are married to the doctor I use for my girls!”

 

But in the end, the dwindling roll of money in his pockets had spoken louder. As she watched, Joe Cartwright stumbled up the stairs with one of her more experienced girls. She considered the money he had given her and figured that while he was here at least, she could watch out for him. She owed both Joe and Honor that much.

 

The madam shouldn’t have worried. Everything the girl tried met without success and she ultimately let the man fall into a drunken sleep. It had wrenched at her heart, listening to him cry and moan in his sleep. Worst of all was when he curled into her and called her by another woman’s name. The name she knew was his wife’s. Now this morning, she was meeting with a stone wall. She sat down beside him when he lay back on the rumpled bed.

 

“You okay, cowboy?” she asked, seeing his face flush and hearing his labored breathing. He didn’t answer her but pressed his palm to his thudding chest.

 

Joe knew if he had been standing, he would have passed out completely. As it was, even with pushing on his chest, he could not slow his heart rate and it was making him light headed. He tried pushing all thoughts of the last night’s embarrassing activities from his mind, to concentrate on nothing at all. But that didn’t work. Above the thud and swish that he knew was his own blood he was hearing, he heard the girl calling for someone frantically. Then darkness reached up and claimed him easily.

 

He awoke to a familiar voice. It was Paul Martin’s. Using numb hands, he tried to push the doctor’s touch away from him but it didn’t work.

 

“Welcome back, young man,” the doctor greeted softly and pressed Joe’s hands back down to his sides. “You feel any more pain in your chest?”

 

“No,” mumbled Joe but Paul could see the lie. He continued to probe the slender body beneath his expert hands. He found just what he thought he would. He lifted and eyelid and stared into the green eye looking back at him. Finally the doctor gave the lean belly a solid thump. “Put something into that other than liquor. And you look like you haven’t slept decent in I don’t know how long. For the time being, I am prescribing bed rest and some food.”

 

“Fine,” Joe hissed tersely, willing the doctor away unsuccessfully.

 

“But what in the name of blazes are you doing here? And don’t tell me the hotel is booked solid and you came here because you couldn’t get home. So tell me, what is a happily married man doing in this whore house?” Even as he spoke, Paul Martin regretted his words.

 

“It’s my business, Doc and none of yours.” The words were sharp, cold and bitter.

 

Shaking his head, the physician decided to let it go rather than upset Joe any more than he was already. “Far as I can tell, you didn’t have another heart attack. Your body was just reacting to the strain you’ve put on it the last few days. Get some rest and real food and you should be right as rain by this evening so you can go home. Now, you want me to wait while you get dressed? I’ll be glad to see that you get over to Adam’s. That’d be a better place for you to rest up rather than here.”

 

Joe exploded. “I will not go to his house! Here is fine for the time being.”

 

“No it isn’t, Joe and you know it,” the madam coming in behind the doctor spoke up. “Melissa here has got customers wantin’ her time. But I tell you what, iffen Doc says it’s okay, my room is right down the hall. You can spend time there and no one will bother you none, Joe.”

 

Even though he wanted to know what was bothering his long time patient, Paul Martin knew better than to press Joe about anything right then. His vehemence concerning going to Adam’s house had been as big a surprise as having found Joe in this house. With a simple nod of his head, the doctor conceded that as long as Joe rested and ate, it didn’t matter where it was.

 

At the front door, Paul took the madam aside.

 

“Don’t worry, Paul. I’ll see to him. Joe and I go way back, ya know. Until this business with Honor and Adam, I hadn’t seen him business-wise for nigh onto ten years. But when he’d see me on the street, he didn’t pretend I didn’t exist either. Always spoke nice to me and tipped his hat like I was a real lady.”

 

“What do you mean about Honor and Adam, Lil?” the doctor asked and the madam huffed, measuring the man with her brown eyes.

 

“Now, mind you, it’s just rumor but you know lots of times there is truth behind a rumor. And I don’t like to gossip but I figured something was amiss when Joe came here last night and demanded a woman for the night. I tried to talk him out of it but he insisted. So I figure some of the rumor was dead on.” And that was the first Paul Martin had caught wind of the trouble hounding his life-long friends.

 

“Thanks, Lil, for the information. Now I know why he acted like he did when I mentioned going to Adam’s. But tell me something, in your capacity as a woman of the world: Do you think Adam and Honor had a…a…” As much as he wanted to say the word, he couldn’t.

 

“No,” came her swift and unequivocal answer. “I seen love lots a times but never one like that woman had with Joe. So I can’t begin to think that it is anything other than some folks getting’ things tangled up and not takin’ the time to sort them out. And if last night is any indication, Joe still loves her somethin’ fierce. I mean any man that can’t…well, never mind, Doc. You go on your way. I’ll see to Joe Cartwright today.”

 

The same morning light that found his two oldest sons in such different states, found Ben Cartwright as well. That morning he had awoken from a dream he’d had many times over the past thirty odd years. He and Marie had been walking hand in hand through a meadow full of bright wild flowers.

 

The sun overhead warmed their shoulders yet gave no shadows to their forms. Again and again, Ben had heard her delicate laugh and watched delightedly as she had pressed her hand to her lips to try and stop it from bubbling out. Then in the dream he had turned to her and taken her into his arms and kissed her. And throwing her arms about his neck, she had kissed him back.

 

It was at that point that he always awoke, with the lingering memory of her lips to his, her body pressed along his own. He couldn’t help to always smile.

 

As he lay listening to the sounds of the coming day, all the right ones were there. He could hear pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, the crow of a rooster down in the yard, the stomp of horses hooves from the corrals and then the cry of one of his grandsons awakening as well. He could tell just by the lustiness of it that it was his eldest grandson’s for AJ rarely let loose so loudly.

 

Without another thought, Ben arose and dressed quickly in the cool of the morning. He found warm water in his pitcher, giving fact to supposition that Hop Sing had been in earlier and left it for him. He shaved carefully then combed back his silvered hair.

 

Not bad for a man soon to be seventy, he thought, looking into the mirror. But then a cloud passed over his countenance as he thought of his upcoming birthday. He reached out and touched the silver frame that held Marie’s picture, letting his forefinger trace the familiar smile he saw there.

 

“Make him come home, Marie. His children need him. His wife needs him. I need him.”

 

After a rather subdued breakfast alone, Ben went to the barn and saddled Buck. He had one destination in mind. Swinging into the saddle stiffly, he turned the horse’s head not towards town where he knew he would find both his sons. Instead he turned Buck back towards the promontory that jutted into the turquoise waters of Tahoe. And the three graves there. A part of him hoped he would find Joseph there.

 

As he reined Buck to a halt at the edge of the glen, he saw that this morning again he would be alone. It didn’t matter to him. In fact this morning he was almost thankful that he was alone so he could talk to the people who had known Joseph and himself the best. He ground tied the buckskin and slipped into the deep shadows.

 

The oldest grave there held the spot closest to the lake and probably closest to Ben’s heart. It was Marie’s. The moss clung to its granite headstone, giving it the appearance of having a cape wrapped about its shoulders. The lettering was worn from the harsh Nevada winters of more than thirty years but still readable.

 

To the right of Marie’s grave and more than a few paces away, a newer headstone sat. And Ben was not surprised to see wilted flowers there on the grassy mound, giving testament that someone had been there not long ago. Looking at them, he could see that they had once been the blue asters that grew prevalently hereabouts. His heart saddened, Ben reverently touched the stone. On it was the name Alice Harper Cartwright. She had been Joseph’s first wife and while she had not originally been laid to rest here, long ago, Joe had had her remains brought here to rest with the others. And Joe had always brought her daisies so the asters had come from someone else. Though never spoken of, Ben knew that Honor came here to pay respect to the two women her husband had loved before her. He had seen her upon several occasions but never intruded. It raised his opinion of the quality of woman his son had married every time.

 

The third grave was opposite Alice’s, and that was the grave that Ben sought out that morning. A little to one side of it lay a log that was kept there as a place to sit and Ben did just that.

 

“I need you, son,” were the only words he could get out before the tears spilled down his face. He let them fall. “You always stood between Adam and Joe, making them see things the right way. You never let them hurt one another even though they tried time and again. You were the peace-maker. I need you to do that again, Hoss. Make them see that they are fighting over nothing. Make Joseph see that he still has a loving and devoted wife.

 

Convince Adam that his place is still here. Can you do that for me, son? Please? I need you to do that for me. I know you can do it. And maybe while you are at it, you can help me understand them.”

 

His thoughts spoken, Ben continued to sit there, watching the sun send slivers of light into the glen. His heart empty, he waited, his mind shifting back to another time he had come here. That morning had been many years before and he had not been alone. He shuddered with the memory for it was a difficult one to recall.

 

It was fall then. The leaves making red and gold patterns on the mossy ground. The sun was weak, struggling to break through the canopy of tall pines which surrounded the graves. The air was crisp, foretelling of an early winter with its bite. But it was the sight he beheld that had made Ben Cartwright’s blood run cold that morning. He had seen Joe’s pinto tied outside the vale like always and Ben had nearly ridden on by, giving his son solitude. Alice had been dead not quite a year at that time and the sorrow still haunted Joe.

 

But a small warning voice begged Ben to stop and afterwards he was glad that he had. For there, in the center of the glade, on his knees, Ben found Joseph with a gun to his head. Careful not to startle his son, Ben had fought the panic rising in his chest and walked slowly into the circle made by the graves of the three people Joe had lost. Ben didn’t know if Joe had heard him or not. His eyes were closed but tears still ran down his gaunt face. His hand holding the gun shook with the force of his sobs and Ben feared that the gun would go off before he could get close enough to stop the tragedy.

 

Kneeling before his son, Ben had spoken his son’s name gently.

 

“Go away, Pa. You don’t want to be here when I pull the trigger,” Joe had warned, his voice a harsh shaking whisper.

 

“I don’t want you to do that, Joseph.”

 

“You don’t understand, Pa. I can’t go on. I’ve lost so much. Do you know what today would have been? Alice would have made me a father today. Yeah, I would have been a pa today. Just like you.”

 

Ben had touched Joseph’s face with just the lightest of hand. Yes, he had known as well as Joseph what this day would have brought them both. But fate and God seen otherwise. “I know, son,” he had whispered, crying as well. “But this isn’t the way, Joseph.”

 

It was then that Joe had finally opened his eyes and Ben felt his heart let go. He knew the pain of loss just as well or better than Joseph did but as Joseph had pointed out succinctly once, when Ben’s wives had died, he had been left with a child to remind him of them. Alice had taken their unborn child to the grave with her. All Joseph had were quickly fading pictures and words written in the family Bible attesting to his short marriage.

 

“I can’t go on, Pa. I can’t. Hoss, I need some of your strength to help me pull the damn trigger!” Joe had screamed. And Ben had watched as Joe’s fingers began to tighten on it. Slowly, he had reached across and taken the gun from Joseph’s shaking hand. It came away easily and he had flung it away from them. That had been the last pebble holding back the flood of emotion in his son, and Joe had curled down upon himself, his sobbing filling the quiet of the glade.

 

Ben had done the only thing he knew how to do. He had taken his heartbroken son into his arms and let him cry. When the worst was over with, Ben continued to hold this man who was the last of his blood.

 

“You can’t do this to yourself, son,” he had said, his hand stroking the silken curls at the back of his child’s head. “Alice wouldn’t want you to and Hoss wouldn’t help you hurt yourself. You know that. You have got to go on, Joseph. There is something else out there for you. Something better than the pain you are feeling right now. But if you do this, you will never get beyond the pain.”

 

“I can’t go on, Pa,” he repeated but Ben shook his head.

 

“Yes, you can. And for Alice and the child she would have given you, you have to.” Ben felt Joe shaking his head against his chest and knew there was one final offer he had to make. “Joseph, I will help you if you will help me. Maybe together, we can go on. But I can’t do it without you.” Looking over the top of Joe’s head, he had seen the first sliver of sun cross Hoss’ grave and Ben knew he had said the right thing.

 

Now many years later as he sat in that quietude, he sought for another sign but after a while, decided he was merely wishing for the impractical. Pushing up on the log bench with both hands, he started to leave. It was then that he noticed in the center of the opening was a small striped chipmunk. The animal sat upright, facing into the sunlight. His eyes were closed but his cheeks moved as though he were chewing something. Ben paused and watched the animal for many heartbeats but it never moved anything other than his little jaws. He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of the sun’s rays and Ben reflected that that indeed was a good feeling, the sun upon your face.

 

“You are so right, little fella. Life is good, even when you have to stand and wait for it to come to you,” Ben smiled and quietly walked from the gravesites and the memories they held. Retrieving his horse’s reins, Ben stepped into the stirrup and swung up into the saddle. He glanced back. The chipmunk still sat there, enjoying the sunlight.

 

Ben knew then what he had to do. The chipmunk had showed him. All he had to do was wait patiently and let the sun, or in his case, son, come to him. And it didn’t matter which son came first. He would be waiting patiently.

 

Because of the nature of their work, afternoons at the Gilded Lily were usually spent quietly. Most of the girls slept until evening and Lil would have been no different except that on this particular day, there was a man in her bed. She had checked on Joe Cartwright a few times and seen that he was resting comfortably and at noon, had taken him up a meal fit for a king. It bothered the madam that he had turned it down flat, asking for a bottle of whiskey instead. Equally as flat, she had told him no and left the room.

 

Now there was someone banging on the front door to the Gilded Lily, disturbing the peace therein.

 

Pulling the door open, she found a plain looking woman dressed in a dark navy blue dress with a white lace collar. And the caller was pregnant. Very much so. Lil rolled her eyes, thinking that the woman was looking for an errant husband and she was going to have to make up a story quick.

 

“I’m looking for someone and Doctor Martin said that I might find him here,” the little woman said, gazing up passed Lil’s ample cleavage into the brown eyes she thought looked sad.

 

There was only one person that Doc Martin would have sent this woman looking for here today. “Well, who in blazes are you? You ain’t his wife, that’s for sure! So you better do some explaining, missy.” A good defense was a good offense.

 

“My name is Anne Canaday. My husband is the foreman of the Ponderosa Ranch. The man I am looking for is Joseph Cartwright. His father has requested that I seek him out and speak with him. Paul Martin said he was here.”

 

Lil stepped aside to let the queer sounding little woman in, figuring that even if she hadn’t been so all fired pregnant, she still couldn’t have taken Lil down. Except maybe by making Lil laugh hard.

 

Blinking her eyes to adjust them to the deep gloom inside the house, Anne took it all in. From the ornate chandelier in the entry way to the oriental rugs on the floor.

 

“Follow me,” Lil commanded and headed up the stairs, not looking back to see if she were being obeyed.

 

The room the madam ushered Anne into was small and very plain when compared to the rest of the house that she had seen. But it didn’t matter, these trappings of this world, not to her. What did matter was her first glimpse of a man she had long thought to be a friend. As he lay sleeping restlessly in the big four-poster bed, she considered that he looked ill, gaunt and poorly kept.

 

“Now listen to me,” the madam whispered, her finger shaking under Anne’s nose in warning. “Don’t you go gettin’ my friend upset. He already had one little go around with needin’ Paul today. He don’t need another. Understand?”

 

Anne nodded that she did indeed understand. With another warning shake of her finger, Lil left and Anne perched herself on the side of the bed. It wasn’t long before Joe stirred and opened his eyes to find her there, staring at him.

 

“What do you want? Pa send you to drag me home?” he moaned, rubbing his hands over his face and thinking that he needed to shave.

 

“No,” she answered, her voice barely audible.

 

“Then what are you here?” he demanded hotly.

 

“I have come to see what a fool looks like.”

 

For the next several moments, Joe’s heart refused to beat. That had been the last thing he had ever expected out of Anne. The simple words had reeked with animosity and derision, two emotions he had never thought the Quaker woman had in her. Finally he found his voice. “And?” was all he could get out.

 

“Foolishness, thy name is Joseph Cartwright. I have nothing but contempt for thee. Here thee lays in a whore’s bed, feeling sorry for thyself. And why? Because thou thinks thy wife was unfaithful to thee when it is thee who has broken that most sacred of promises that a man and woman make to one another. I would not have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes. Honor is a good and virtuous woman while thou art a despicable lascivious scurrilous human being. Thou are not fit to clean her feet, much less share her bed.”

 

“Are you finished?” Joe asked, his breathing coming quickly but he spaced his words slowly and carefully. “Maybe you just didn’t get the whole story. You got one side of it and that doesn’t surprise me in the least. She and my brother -”

 

“Did nothing!” Anne slapped the coverlet in frustration. Once again, she knew the violence of her actions made him pause they were so out of character for her. “Thou only thought they did and that was enough for thee, wasn’t it? Thou was so ready to believe so little of thy wife and thy brother? Shame on thee, Joseph Cartwright.”

 

“You didn’t see them!” Joe roared, coming half off the bed.

 

“And neither did thee!” Anne screamed back.

 

“YES I DID!”

 

Anne stood slowly, pulling herself up to her fullest height. Her chin lifted before she spoke again. “What thee saw was thy brother, thy last blood brother, helping thee. He was the first one there to help when thou was taken ill. He gave up his own life to help care for thee. He was the one who argued against thy father when Ben wanted him to take over the running of the ranch from thee. And he was the one who helped thy wife when she suffered the loss of her unborn child. Now what of those actions would thee condemn both thy wife and thy brother with?”

 

When several minutes had passed and Joe had made no comment, Anne brushed her hands down her dress front in clear preparation that she was leaving. “Thy father did ask that I relay a message to thee should I see thee. He asked that thee come to the ranch for his birthday on Saturday.

 

Although, he may change his mind when he hears where I found thee. Ah, yes, foolishness, thy name is Joseph Cartwright.” and with that final condemnation ringing in his ears, Anne turned and left the room.

 

Joe lay there feeling as though he had been run over by a whole herd of cattle. Had anyone else spoken to him like that and Joe would have considered bashing their brains in for them. But it had been Anne and she wasn’t a hurtful woman, was she? Little by little as he thought about her harsh words, it seemed that a light in his soul, faint at first, grew brighter. Anne wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. But maybe she just doesn’t know the whole story. No, she knew about it all. The quiet ones like her always do. But she said…she told me the truth. When my wife needed me the most, I was pushing her away. But I didn’t know she was pregnant; she never told me! No, wait, back before..before I got sick, the signs were there. She was tired but I thought it was from dealing with the boys. There wasn’t any morning sickness like before! But how would I have known? I was so busy bustin’ horses and trying to do everything at once. I never took the time like I should have. But I know what I saw that night! Out in the yard! I saw my wife lean into Adam. He’d helped her off her horse and then they stood there…and did nothing.

 

His thoughts came to a crashing halt, the strong emotion always close to the surface in him piling up behind that last thought like a train wreck. Joe struggled to swallow the bile that had risen up his throat. He tried taking several deep breaths to still the pounding growing in his chest again. Then there was the sound of his own blood thudding and swishing in his ears and listening to it made him lightheaded again. He felt the knot of pain growing rapidly under his ribs. His left arm felt leaden when he went to press his hand against his chest so it stayed at his side, useless. Like earlier in the day, he tried to arch his back and relieve the pressure growing in his chest but it did no good. The pain, a twisting, grinding pain that centered on his chest forced the breath from his lungs and covered him with a sheen of sweat. He tried to cry out for help but his jaws were clenched tight over the pain.

 

NO! his mind screamed in desperation. Not again! No, please! Not here! Not now! Oh God, I need to get home. I have got to get home! God help me, but I am not going to die in a whore’s bed. I want my wife, my sons. I want to go home! He struggled then rolled to his side, nearly falling from the bed.

 

The voice in his head cried out again but this time with only one word, her name: Honor.

 

“Why, Adam!” she teased, her hand tapping him lightly on the chest, “Not here! Goodness gracious, Mr. Cartwright! Your family will think I am a wanton woman, letting you kiss me like this!” But she didn’t push away from where he held her.

 

“I don’t care one iota, Athena,” he purred, and thought again about kissing her. Sure, standing in the yard in broad daylight, holding her tight against his chest after lifting her from the surrey, that might be considered a little scandalous. But as far as he knew, there was no one watching. And just the feel of her body against him was awakening his newfound feelings again that morning. “And I certainly would love to do more than kiss you right now.”

 

She expertly squirmed from his embrace then held him at arm’s length. “I didn’t think that was why you brought me out here this morning. And after yesterday? I would think you would be just a little tired!”

 

His smile came slowly but it sent a bolt closely akin to lightning through her. She could almost read his thoughts, they almost matched hers. And she knew hers weren’t proper for meeting other people.

 

“All right then, if you insist on being proper,” he started. She raised her eyebrows and gazed at him levelly. “And you apparently do. Madam,” and he extended his crooked arm to her, tilting his head rakishly, “shall we go on in?”

 

Taking his arm, she again slapped at him playfully. “Only if you promise to follow through later on those thoughts you are having now,” she whispered daringly.

 

Once through the massive doors, all improper thoughts were shoved aside as Athena was introduced to the family she found waiting there. Sitting on the settee before the fire, she made the appropriate small-talk as she sipped her tea. It was so much like a hundred other parlors she had sat in over the years with one exception: Adam. There was something that had happened to him as soon as he had touched the door latch and walked into the great room. She struggled to put a name to it then finally settled for her first impression: Adam was being extremely cautious. That fact made her curious.

 

Why was he acting that way? Did his family know about the other woman? When Adam introduced her to the auburn haired woman he called Honor, she thought she had her answer. But without an outward sign, Athena continued on, watching. Adam was stiff when addressing Honor and did so with great reluctance, preferring to talk with his father instead.

 

Just as the tedium reached a strangle-hold on Athena, she heard Adam saying that they needed to be headed back to town. A gracious smile for the family patriarch was all she gave for Ben Cartwright had been the most at-ease with her presence for some odd reason.

 

“You will bring Mrs. Dawson to my party tomorrow night, won’t you, Adam?” Ben asked, standing and escorting both to the door.

 

Adam stammered but Athena spoke up quickly, addressing Ben but her eyes held Honor’s. “I would be pleased to attend your party, Mr. Cartwright, but on one condition. You must simply call me Athena.”

 

His smile was genuine as he repeated her given name. “Good then. I am sure that Adam will want to introduce you to all our friends. Come early for supper maybe?”

 

“We’ll see,” was Adam sole commitment.

 

Once the surrey had rounded the curve and placed them out of sight from the house, Athena exhaled sharply. It caught Adam’s attention and he shifted the reins into one hand, letting his other arm lay across her shoulders.

 

“That’s her, isn’t it? The woman you wanted,” she said simply, looking straight ahead. Then she looked away, afraid that she would see the truth in his eyes. Mentally she had been comparing herself to Honor all afternoon and at every turn, she found herself wanting. Then Adam had said nothing in reply.

 

“She is a beauty. I can see why a man might want someone like her,” rather than me she finished silently.

 

Again she waited a few heartbeats for Adam to reply. He didn’t and she continued. “She is educated. Intelligent. A strong woman,” everything I am not.

 

“And she is my brother’s wife,” Adam finally finished her sentence the way he thought it should be ended. “And for that, you will condemn me the same way my family has.”

 

“I am not condemning you, Adam. I think a man would have to be blind not to look twice in her direction. She is like an addiction. I’ve seen women like her all my life. They draw men to them. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. It takes a strong man to step away from that kind of pull, Adam. She is like a spider who spins a web over a pond. In the course of her day, she snares a lot. The lucky ones find a way to escape. The ones who aren’t get eaten up by her.”

 

Adam laughed mirthlessly. “Are you saying my brother is getting eaten alive by this ‘spider’? You’ve not met Joe yet so I think if I were you, I would withhold judgment on that count.”

 

Empowered by her thoughts, Athena turned in the seat to face Adam. “No, I think that your brother may be just like her. So instead of getting trapped in her web, he builds his right beside hers and together they are stronger. He’s like that, isn’t he? I can see the answer in your face.”

 

Adam pulled the horses to a halt and also turned to face her. “And am I the unlucky fly in their web?” His eyes narrowed and Athena wished she hadn’t been so plain-spoken a moment ago.

 

“Only if you want to be. I think you have it in you to escape but you have to want to, Adam. Just like the other morning, you have to reach out with your soul to find the strength. You can’t simply just turn your body away. It is an all-or-nothing thing. Your heart and soul have to leave her behind as well.”

 

He worried the thought around like a dog would an old bone as they continued their journey back towards town. But he kept coming back to the same thought: he wanted to do as she said, but how? Finally, with Virginia City coming into view he found his voice again to ask her that question. To his surprise, she didn’t answer him with words. Instead she leaned over and kissed his cheek delicately. He reared back and looked at her.

 

“Take me home and let me show you,” she whispered.

 

“Could have sworn I told you to eat something. How long has it been since you had a meal that wasn’t mostly comprised of alcohol? No, don’t answer that question. I don’t want to know the answer. I don’t even want to know where you got the strength to get down here to my office. So tell me. Just what am I suppose to do?” To emphasize his exasperation, Paul Martin tossed his stethoscope aside. Before him in the straight back chair, sat a very white Joseph Cartwright. When he had walked in ten minutes before, Paul’s first panicked thought was that Joe had had another heart attack. He had hastily slammed the young man into the chair and listened for an irregular heartbeat.

 

“You usually have a smart answer for me, Joe. Where is it?” the doctor’s words carried clearly his emotional state. “You know, don’t you, that you can’t keep going like this. It’s going to kill you if you do. Is that what you’re after? If so, get out of my office and out of my care to do it. I have fought too many battles over the years to keep you alive to watch you wallow around in your own pity long enough for another attack to finally kill you.”

 

“No,” Joe ultimately croaked out, his voice cracking over the word.

 

“No what? No, that isn’t what you’re after? Killing yourself? Could have fooled me!”

 

Joe shook his head and for a moment the doctor regretted his harsh words. But then again, they had made an affect on Joe. Maybe that was what was called for. Paul Martin girded up his courage and launched his attack full force.

 

“If you are going to persist like you have over the past few days, I don’t want to see you in my office again, Joseph, ’cause you are going to cause your own death. Probably take a few other good folks with you too when you go. Like your father for one,” Paul was pleased when Joe lifted his head and looked him in the eye for the first time. Granted, there was panic there but the doctor pushed on. “You father might not be able handle losing you like this, you know. Remember how he was when Hoss died? He was a good deal younger and more resilient then. He’s not a young man any more. And what about Honor? I’ve seen what this mess has done to her! Saw her the other day, professionally for about the third time since she came to town years ago. You seen her? Didn’t think so, you been too busy wallowing in your own filthy self-pity to notice any one and anything beyond your own miserable existence. But I think the one this will have the biggest effect on will be Adam.” And then Paul Martin paused, letting all the words sink in fully.

 

“Doc,” Joe started but couldn’t form his thoughts into words.

 

Leaning down, Paul Martin braced the shoulders in front of him, tilting Joe back into the chair so he could continue to look him in the eye. “Yes, Adam. He won’t look at the real cause of your death. He’ll take it upon himself, say that he was completely responsible for what happened between you. He wasn’t, you know. You are. You got it into your head that he wanted your wife. You got it in there so tight you can’t pry it loose. It’s your jealousy that has driven this monster to where it is now: jammed in between you and living.”

 

“Doc,” Joe started again and this time Paul Martin heard the desperation beginning in the tone the younger man used. He drew steel into his resolve and plunged on.

 

“Yes, Adam will feel the brunt of your death more acutely than any of us. And do you know why?” The doctor’s voice rose a bit louder as he barked out the next few words, giving Joe’s shoulders a tiny shake with each one. “Because he loves you!”

 

The stricken expression in Joe’s eyes became even more pronounced, his mouth working to say something, anything, to counter the words that flayed against his soul, but Paul was unwilling to lose his momentum as the lecture continued.

 

“Despite everything you have done to him, he still loves you. You made this big show of welcoming him back into the family. Even made him godfather to your boys. But it was all an act wasn’t it? You would have been just as happy if he had stayed in Boston or wherever it was. That way you would be lord and master of the Ponderosa. You and your sons would rule the empire your brother and father started building years ago. But he came home, Adam did. And you had to face sharing with him. You had to share but you didn’t want to, did you? Instead, you used your wealth and power and bought your brother the Sacramento Los Rios. What! Didn’t think I knew that, did you?

 

Well I do! But you can’t just give it to him because you would lose control over Adam. Instead you sell it to him in a way that he can’t ever completely repay. Did it ever occur to you that what you have done has made Adam feel like a failure? And what have you done time and time again but rub his nose in your success? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you do deserve to be pitied. But not because of what has happened to you but what you have done to your brother. To your family.”

 

By this time, Joe could barely sit up. Only Paul’s hands pressed against him kept him upright in the chair, his body slipping further with each and every accusation the doctor had made.

 

The doctor finally took his hands away completely and was surprised that Joe Cartwright stayed in the chair at all. As he watched, Joe slowly rubbed his chest then took a short, puffy breath.

 

“Help me, Doc,” Joe pleaded, his voice that of a small hurt child.

 

“Help you do what? Die? I won’t do that. I told you so.”

 

“No, live,” Joe whispered, his emotional strength gone as fleetingly as his physical strength.

 

“So you can continue like you have? I won’t do that either. If you want me to help you, you’re gonna have to make changes in your life. Can you do that?”

 

Joe nodded, defeated.

 

Sighing, the doctor wondered just how determined Joe was, so he asked, “Are you sure you can do it? Make changes to the way you been living your life? And not just the way you been the last few days. I mean a whole big change, Joe, and not just because you think you have to but because you want to?”

 

Again Joe nodded.

 

“Good. First things first. Gonna put some solid food in you. And I am not turning you loose. You are staying right here in my clinic until I say otherwise.” What the doctor didn’t mention was that he’d heard the irregular heartbeat return and knew that Joe was possibly on the verge of another heart attack. He figured in thirty-six hours, Joseph Cartwright would have either been a corpse or well on his way to recovery. As a physician and a friend, he preferred the latter . . .

 

All that had been a little over eighteen hours ago. Since then the doctor had seen to it that Joe Cartwright had eaten four solid meals and slept a shade over fifteen of those hours. The color had returned to his skin and after a quick shave and bath, Joe was beginning to look more like and act more like the Joseph Cartwright of old: a quick smile, bright eyes and most importantly, the irregular heart rhythm had disappeared. Now as Paul Martin watched his patient devour a thick steak and all its trimmings, he knew the time had come.

 

“I want to talk with you about something, Joe,” he began by saying and saw the younger man’s eyes cut sharply to him. “It’s about something I said to you when you came in here yesterday.”

 

Joe finished chewing his mouthful of beef and sat waiting expectantly. A huge bubble of fear was welling up inside his chest. Doc Martin had been pretty blunt but Joe figured he had deserved it all, and maybe a little more. He figured he was about to get the rest of it and he wasn’t so sure he could handle any more.

 

“I, uh, deserved it, Doc,” he admitted, the words coming slowly and hesitantly.

 

“There is no denying that and I wasn’t about to take one word of what I said back, Joe. What I did want to talk to you about was how you intend to fix this problem you have. It isn’t going to be easy.”

 

“I know, Doc, I know. And I haven’t a clue on how to start.”

 

Paul Martin smiled broadly. “I think if I were you I would start with an apology to your wife. Then I would chase it with one to your brother. By that time, you should have enough practice that apologizing to the rest of the world would come easily. How about it? You feeling up to eating something other than steak?”

 

“You mean like crow?” Joe puffed out his cheeks, already coming back into their normal tan coloring. “That isn’t very filling…but yeah, I guess I have to, don’t I?”

 

“No,” Paul drug the word out slowly. “You don’t ‘have to’, Joe.”

 

Joe swallowed and tried a smile that failed to make it beyond the level of a grimace. “I guess what I should have said was that I need to, don’t I?”

 

“That’s the word. But can you do it? And mean it?” he pushed, his hand resting on Joe’s forearm.

 

Joe looked at the doctor with a steady level gaze. “I love my wife, my children, my family. I’ve been a fool,” and in his head he heard Anne Canady’s voice calling him such. “I’ve done and said some things that I am not very proud of,” and he heard his accusation of unfaithfulness directed at Honor. “And I hope there is enough time left in the world for me to make amends.”

 

“Then get started now. You finish that steak and you can leave. For once, you have been a model patient. I hope that change stays around for a good long time!”

 

Joe sheepishly looked into the doctor’s eyes and covered the hand on his arm with his own.

 

“But then I realize that may be pushing my luck!” Paul Martin admitted with a chuckle.

 

People passing by on the street heard the laughter and smiled automatically, hearing the joy it resounded with.

 

The first place Joe went to that early afternoon was the office of his brother’s freight business. Once he walked into the cool interior, an overwhelming sense of dread cast its shadow over him. There was no one there to greet him but he could hear James, his brother’s secretary, through an open back door. The man was giving instructions and Joe had no wish to intrude. Joe slipped instead into the further recesses there, into his brother’s office.

 

Even though Adam wasn’t there, his mark was, and just looking at his desk made Joe smile. The piles of papers there were neat and carefully stacked. The dark leather chair had been pushed to the desk as if to say ‘closed for the day’. Absently Joe ran his hand over the moroccan leather and brass studs, a smile fighting for dominance on his features. Joe swallowed hard, and pulled himself up then leaned onto the back of the chair.

 

His carefully planned and worded apology was falling apart before him for the simple reason that Adam wasn’t there to hear it. Just as he was about to turn and leave, he heard James return to the outer office.

 

“Afternoon, James. Seen my brother around today?” Joe asked, trying to sound casual as he stepped from his brother’s office.

 

“Oh, Mr. Cartwright! You startled me. No, I am afraid Mr. Adam left early today. Said he had a date,” James stumbled over his words. He was half-afraid of the man who stood on the other side of the desk. He’d seen the volatility and the angry fists several nights ago in the Bucket of Blood that this man had unleashed in reply to a casual comment. He didn’t want to see it again. “He won’t be back till Monday, sir.”

 

Joe smiled and thanked the man. But instead of leaving as James hoped he would, Joe turned back into Adam’s office and closed the door behind him. He went to his brother’s desk and pulled out the chair to sit down. Just as he knew it would be, there was Adam’s plain white stationary in the top drawer, the pen with clean nibs and a full inkwell at the top of the blotter.

 

 

 

Well, he thought, if I can’t say the words to his face, I can certainly write them. Can hear you chuckling at that thought, Adam Cartwright! Your little brother who hated to write to you when you were away now penning away! But with the pen in his hand, the words wouldn’t come. For the better part of the next hour, Joe sat there, lost in thought, and probably would have been there longer if James hadn’t tapped discreetly on the door and told him that he needed to be closing up. Hastily, Joe dipped the pen into the black ink and wrote three words on the white paper before him, then signed it.

 

Joe strolled out of the office and bid James good evening as he left. James, clearly perplexed, decided to check his boss’ office. What had the other Mr. Cartwright been doing in there for so long? A quick glance around showed James that nothing was out of place. There were only two signs that Joe had even been in the office. The chair was pushed away from the desk and there was a single sheet of paper left on the blotter. Cautiously tip-toeing into the office, James peaked onto Mr. Adam’s desk, curious as to what was written there. He read it and gained no knowledge from what he saw. There, in less than perfect penmanship, was written, “Paid in full, Joseph F Cartwright.”

 

As Ben watched from the doorway, Joe tied the pinto in his long accustomed stall but he didn’t remove the saddle. When the lantern light caught Joe’s profile, Ben shook his head. There were heavy dark rings under Joe’s eyes and his face looked older than his years. Sorrow, Ben thought, that is the face of sorrow. He shoved his hands into his pockets and moved on into the barn.

 

“I’m glad you could make it tonight, son.” He spoke with more conviction than he truly felt. “Wouldn’t seem like my birthday without all my sons here to celebrate.”

 

Joe stepped from the stall, letting his hand smooth the pinto’s haunches. “I’m sorry. I forgot it was your birthday, Pa. Had a few things on my mind. Sorry,” he mumbled the apology again. He couldn’t bring himself to look in his father’s eyes so he stared at the barn floor, tucking his hands into the back of his gunbelt.

 

“Son,” Ben said softly, a world of love in just the word. And Joe looked up, the sorrow he still felt evident, Ben thought. Slowly, Ben approached Joe until he could reach out and put his hand on his son’s shoulder.

 

Ashamed, Joe looked away from his father’s gaze but Ben laid his other hand on his face and turned it back.

 

“I know where Anne found you the other day and I won’t try to tell you that I wasn’t deeply ashamed of your behavior. Ashamed, yes but I also understand the reason behind it. All your life you’ve thought you were never ‘good enough’, that you had to prove yourself over and over again. And just when you thought you had finally reached that point of being good enough, Adam returned. And whether you want to admit it or not, the fight within you started all over again. But this time around there was a new reason. Honor.” And Ben felt Joe’s muscles tighten at just the sound of his wife’s name. “Son, the only one you are fighting in this is yourself. You are the one who determines what ‘good enough’ is.”

 

“Pa,” Joe started but couldn’t continue, couldn’t breathe passed the tightness in his throat.

 

“Let me finish, Joseph, please,” Ben whispered. “I don’t know where your insecurity springs from but I do know this: it is groundless. If nothing else would reassure you that you have a place here, look to your children. The fact that I would fight you and Honor for them to remain here should tell you just how much I love them. And you. And her.”

 

“Pa,” Joe began again but before he finished his thought, Joe’s voice broke. And so did his resolve to stay strong. He leaned into his father’s embrace.

 

“She loves you. And only you, Joe. Honor has done nothing to tarnish that bright glow that used to be between you two.” Ben softly explained, rubbing Joe’s shaking back as he had done when the man in his arms had been a small child. “Go to her. Talk to her. She’ll tell you the same thing.”

 

“How can I? After what I said to her? After what I’ve done?’ and Joe pushed himself from the comfort his father offered, his words to Paul Martin that he could do what needed to be done echoing hollowly in his ears.

 

“You might start with an apology,” Ben suggested.

 

“That’s not going to be enough, Pa, you know that.”

 

Ben smiled. “No, probably not. You and Honor have a long row to hoe over this. But an apology is a start. Go on, son. She’s waiting.”

 

Joe shook his head, again looking at the floor. “The house is full of people, Pa. I can’t.”

 

“You have to, Joseph. And it isn’t going to matter if there are a hundred people there or no one at all. Be the man she loves and it will be all right. Now go on,” Ben urged.

 

Still uncertain, Joe left the barn and started hesitantly towards the house. Ben followed, wondering if he had done the right thing. Halfway across the yard, Joe stopped, afraid.

 

“Go on,” Ben said so softly that he wasn’t sure Joe had even heard him. But then he must have as Joe continued on.

 

At the doorway, Joe paused again, looking into the brightly-lit room and hearing the beginning strains of a waltz. But all he could see was his wife, dressed in the royal blue gown that he so loved on her, her elegant neck graced by the diamond pendant he had presented her with years before. God, she is still so beautiful, he thought and then her eyes turned to him. Their simmering blueness called to him and he moved as though in a trance to stand before her.

 

It seemed to Joe that there was no one else in the room but her. He could hear the music but just barely over the hammering of his heart. “May I have this dance?” he whispered and extended his hand, palm up, to her.

 

She smiled up into his face and laid her hand in his. She floated to her feet, her eyes never leaving his face. Honor moved into his arms, wishing the world away. For now, she wanted no one else there. Just the two of them and the soft strains of the waltz. Like it had been when they had been courting and he had taken her out into the dark and danced with her there beneath the stars, holding her tight to his body.

 

“Honor,” he whispered, his voice breaking as she leaned into him. Heedless of the stares, he pulled her body into his, letting her warmth flow over his tortured soul like a blanket on a cold night. Instead of holding her hand out to the side as the rest of the dancers did, Joe kept her hand close to his shoulder, clasped in his.

 

As the lilt of the waltz continued, they slowly danced, oblivious to the rest of the world, lost in one another. One by one, the other dancing couples yielded the floor to the handsome couple that seemed to be of one elegant body moving to the rise and fall of the music.

 

When the music finally stopped, Joe pulled Honor’s hand to his lips and kissed the wedding ring she still wore. “Forgive me?” he whispered.

 

“Always,” came her reply, so low no one else could hear.

 

Still holding her, Joe kissed her with all the longing and passion denied him in the past weeks. Her hands were freed as he used both arms to crush her to him and she reached up and cradled his face, returning his ardor.

 

Ben had stopped in the doorway and like the others had watched as Joe and Honor had commanded the dance floor. He smiled, remembering how Joe’s mother had captivated him the same way Honor did their son. And when the music had stopped finally, Ben watched with the rest of their friends and neighbors the long impassioned kiss his son and daughter-in-law shared. His heart soared. But across the silent room, he saw his eldest son watching as well and his heart plummeted. There was sorrow so clearly etched on Adam’s dark features.

 

Suddenly the room was full of applause and noise. Ben’s attention was turned back to the center of the room and saw that even though Joseph had the good sense to look at least a little abashed, he still held his wife close to his side. And Honor had eyes only for him.

 

Unable to watch any more, Adam slipped from the room and headed out the kitchen door. Ben saw him go and although he wanted to stay, he turned back towards the barn where he caught the last glimpse of a dark clothed figure darting into the barn. Ben returned to the barn, intent on having words with his eldest. Adam was leaning against the far wall when Ben entered.

 

“Don’t try to stop me, Pa. I can’t stay. You know that. I can’t stay and watch the two of them now.” Adam hissed.

 

“Adam, there is nothing you can do to change what has happened between your brother and her. Can you understand that?”

 

“Don’t you realize that that is the problem, Pa? I watched them dancing and it damn near broke my heart because I understand it all now. I know what we nearly destroyed. The way they kissed said it all, Pa! Joe has her and always will and that’s the way it should be. But still, Honor may love Joe and he loves her but so do I. I love them both and if I stay, one of us or all three of us will wind up hurting again. I can’t do that to her. Or him.”

 

“So you think the answer is to run away?”

 

Adam swung around and faced his father fully. “I am NOT running away!” he insisted.

 

Ben pursed his lips and dug a boot toe into the dirt floor. “So what do you call it?”And when Adam gave no answer, he continued, ” Just a little bit ago I talked with your brother about being insecure. I should have saved some of it for you, son. I never realized until just now that you have been afraid of him the same way he has been afraid of you. Afraid that one of you would get more than the other.” Ben paused and considered what he had just said, looking for reassurances within himself that he had been a fair father. There were none there. “If I gave more of anything to your brother, it was because he had the courage to ask for it. If you think you were slighted, look at how you approached your own need. Adam, think! What is it you wanted? You always sought love but it had to be on your terms, didn’t it? It’s hard to show you love when you turn from it at every opportunity, thinking that it shows some sort of weakness.”

 

“Pa-” Adam started but his father cut him off abruptly.

 

“Hear me out and if you can find fault with what I say, you can get on a horse and ride out of here. You can leave. Again. But if you do, it will need to be for eternity because you will have shown me just what sort of man you really are. And I will not want to face you again because I didn’t think I raised you to be that sort of person.”

 

“PA!” Adam finally shouted and brought Ben up short. When he had his father’s attention, Adam turned inexplicably, unable to face him to say the words he knew had to be said. “Don’t you understand? For once in my life I have found what I truly want. Why do you think I left here years ago? I left, not because Joe and I were at odds. I left because I wanted to find my place in the world. And,” he drew a shaky breath and turning back, faced his father in the dim lantern light, “I came back because I thought it was here. But I was wrong. The place I was looking for was within me all along but it wasn’t a place, a destination!

 

“And now? You said you found what you wanted but Adam, even you admitted that Joe and Honor-”

 

Again Adam nearly shouted at his father. “I don’t want Honor, Pa. She is Joe’s wife. She is what he needs. No, what I wanted was what they had: love, security, the other’s respect, that sense of having a place where they belong. I wanted to feel like I belonged. I wanted to feel good about myself. I searched and searched for those things, even blaming someone who wasn’t even at fault for my failure to find them, but I could never find those things anywhere, no matter what I did, because none of them are ‘places ‘ at all. They’re ways of getting through life. To sum it all up in one word, I wanted happiness, Pa. Happiness.”

 

As he listened to Adam speak, Ben heard not just the words, spoken so eloquently and with such naked honesty, but the heartbreak behind them. He had wanted so many times to console his eldest son, breaking into his words to tell him he was wrong. But when Adam finished, Ben knew that Adam had spoken nothing but the truth.

 

“And I have finally found it, Pa. But I until I can convince Joe, this business with Honor is going to continue to tear at us. And I can’t do that to Joe, Honor, any of us, any more. I can’t take away their happiness to get to my own.”

 

Ben looked to the straw-covered floor and scuffed at the dirt there. The words he would use next had to be the right ones for he had nearly said the wrong ones before. “You can’t convince him if you aren’t here, son.”

 

“That’s just it, Pa. I don’t know how to convince him!” Adam tried to explain again, his hands slicing through the night air like sharp knives before him. “How do I tell him?”

 

“Not by leaving,” Ben replied, his hand aching to reach out and touch this tortured son.

 

“No, first you have to face the spider,” spoke a third voice from behind Ben. With her easy graceful stride, she entered the barn.

 

“Athena, you will have to excuse us. This is a private-” Ben began.

 

“I know all about it, Mr. Cartwright,” she said, dismissing his concerns. “Like I said, Adam, you have to face the spider. Leave and the spider wraps another silken strand around your soul. Come back in and I will help you shed those threads of confinement. Your choice, Adam.”

 

With a clarity of vision given to only a parent, Ben saw something arise in his son that he had never seen before in him. He smiled to himself, watching it flow over Adam’s whole being as they listened to the soft southern accented words. But more than the words there was the way Athena spoke. All you have to do is look at her like that and Joe will be convinced. Because he just looked at Honor the same way.

 

The cake, bedecked with what seemed to Ben like every candle in the state of Nevada, sat waiting to be cut. Around him, well wishers called encouragement and offers of help to extinguish the blaze. Smiling broadly, Ben finally filled his chest with air and blew them all out at once then playfully staggered back, eyes rolling. With the knife in his hand, he cut the cake and began distributing it, as was his custom.

 

He couldn’t help but watch his sons. It was as though neither wanted to look at the other, much less speak to him. Ben could feel the tension building until he felt he could almost reach out and touch it. But remembering the chipmunk with the sunlight on his face, Ben waited. He knew that before the evening was out, one way or another, it would be finished. Time and time again, he silently prayed for a happy outcome, for the sun to strike the chipmunk’s face again.

 

The shouted request for Adam to play something came from Anne, and Ben slapped Adam’s shoulder beside him to second it. For a moment, Ben was afraid he would refuse then Adam allowed himself to be pulled into the festivities, someone thrusting his guitar into his hands. Ben nodded his encouragement for it had been a long time since Adam’s baritone had filled the house with song.

 

A little abashed, Adam strummed the open strings once and cleared his throat. “One of the first songs I learned, my step-mother Marie taught me,” and Adam’s gaze flicked to where Joe stood, his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I thought at first that she taught it to me because it was her favorite song. Then I caught her one night while I was playing it. She was making eyes at my father!” The crowd gathered laughed and Ben wagged his finger playfully at Adam. “But since I didn’t know any better at the time, the true meaning behind her actions and the words of the song kind of escaped me.” And again the room tittered. “It was a long time later that I came to understand both. And I finally realized then that it wasn’t her favorite song, but my father’s. It’s been a long time, Pa, but I think I remember the words.”

 

Adam ran through the music first and saw their long time friends in the crowd of people turn and look at one another in surprise. As he fingered the strings, he watched his father’s face, looking for acceptance. It was there, bright and bold so when he began to sing, his voice filled the room and danced into the night beyond.

 

“Alas my love you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously.
For I have loved you so long,
Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was all my joy,
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
and who but my Lady Greensleeves.

My men were clothed all in green,
And they did ever wait on thee,
All this was gallant to be seen,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

Greensleeves was all my joy,
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
and who but my Lady Greensleeves.

Thou couldst desire no earthly thing,
But still thou hadst it rarely.
Thy music still to play and sing,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

Greensleeves was all my joy,
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
and who but my Lady Greensleeves.

 

He continued to play the music even after his voice had soared over the last refrain, letting its haunting beauty reach out to those present.

 

“I can see by your faces that you are confused by this song. Legend has it that King Henry the VIII wrote it while courting Anne Boleyn. And while its words speak of unrequited love, it is a love that he feels so deeply that he cannot let it go.”

 

Again Adam sang the last verse, but this time, changed the last line slightly, “and yet thou wouldst not love me” making it sound more of a question than a statement. Joe was puzzled by it until he saw off to one side, standing apart from the other guests, was Athena Dawson. He had no idea who she was but saw that her attention was riveted to Adam’s face, all of her being caught up in his music. It was so much so that Joe could see her lips moving, silently echoing Adam’s words. As Adam’s voice soared again into the refrain, Joe saw her close her eyes but her lips still moved. Joe tore his own gaze from the woman to his brother. There, he saw the same enraptured look. Joe knew Adam couldn’t tear his eyes from her, and more to the point, didn’t want to.

 

Then one last time, Adam sang the chorus, but this time barely above a whisper. The words, so plaintive and haunting, washed over Joe, leaving his heart heaving. Beside him he felt Honor lean into him, her soft warmth giving him strength. He fought to pull his eyes from Adam’s face to hers and was surprised to see that she too sang without voice, but only for him, one hand over his heart.

The party was long since over when Ben finally settled into bed that night. Out of long habit, he searched the darkness for sounds that spoke of his family. There was the sighing of the breeze through the pines and the faint call of a whip-o-will. Somewhere down in the yard, one horse nickered softly. Then the sound he longed for most came floating up from the garden beneath his window. It was a soft deep-throated piece of a laugh that was quickly overcome by a higher pitched woman’s laugh. It lasted for just a moment but it was long enough for Ben to hear. As he lay there, he mentally counted through the months, stopping at June before he smiled. Yes, he thought to himself, he could handle another grandchild about then. But he wondered if Honor could. Then it came rippling through the night again, the deep male laugh that was Joseph’s clear sign of contentment. Adam’s, Ben thought, is a little quieter. But if I were in Virginia City tonight, I’m sure I’d hear it.

and so the love continues…

Next Story in the Honor series:

Reclaimed Love
Whisper My Name
When Little Boys Grow Up
Romantic Interlude
I Do, I Do
Twenty Years
Old Shadows

 

Tags: Family, wife / wives