{"id":12884,"date":"2000-05-10T07:21:15","date_gmt":"2000-05-10T11:21:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12884"},"modified":"2025-02-27T12:04:45","modified_gmt":"2025-02-27T17:04:45","slug":"fourth-wife-2-all-in-a-days-work-by-jenny-g","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12884","title":{"rendered":"Fourth Wife #2 – All in a Day’s Work (by Jenny G)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: <\/strong>On his feet again after being shot, Adam finds his new stepmother ready to give birth, Hoss suffers a toothache, Ben pays a visit to Silver City and Joe finds trouble while trying to be a Good Samaritan.<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 G (41,590 word)<\/p>\n

Fourth Wife Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the Dark of the Night<\/a>
\nAll in a Day’s Work<\/a>
\nA Gunfighting Man<\/a>
\nThe Measure of a Man<\/a>
\nFall into Darkness<\/a>
\nPeace on the Ponderosa<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

All in a Day’s Work<\/strong><\/p>\n

A Tale of Birth and Life and Death<\/em><\/p>\n

6:00 am.<\/p>\n

Adam stretched himself carefully in the bed. To be able to stretch without pain was a luxury he had not been able to enjoy for a long time and he made the most of it, working on one limb at a time and pushing out each finger and toe as far as it would go. Then he lay for a full minute, relaxing and listening to the beat of his own heart, strong and slow and steady.\u00a0 He\u2019d been confined to this bed for more weeks than he would care to count. He hadn\u2019t been allowed up to cater for even the most personal of bodily functions, and he\u2019d hated it. Then there had been still more weeks when he had been allowed only to sit, at first in the chair in his room and then, after endless pleadings and arguments ~ and he had to confess, what amounted to no less than a full scale temper tantrum on his part ~ downstairs in his favourite chair, with his feet propped up and cushions tucked all round him. The worst of it, once the pain of his wound had started to fade, had been watching his family suffering right along with him.<\/p>\n

Adam was not an easy man to live with when he was ill. He had always been active, and the moment he\u2019d started to feel better, he had wanted to get up and start moving around. Both his father and his doctor had sat patiently at his side and explained to him very carefully how close his brush with death had been. They\u2019d told him how cautious he had to be not to over exert himself, first for fear of reopening the wound and then of exhausting himself and leaving himself open to other illnesses.\u00a0 So he\u2019d sat until he was sore from sitting. He\u2019d read twice through every book in the house, and he\u2019d become irritable and snappy. Adam, when he put his mind to it, had a bitingly sarcastic tongue.<\/p>\n

Today, all that was coming to an end. Just yesterday he\u2019d had an hour-long session with the doctor. Paul Martin, after giving him the most painstaking physical examination he\u2019d ever had, had finally pronounced himself satisfied. Adam had been given the all clear to take up his life again, even if at the moment that did involve no more than a gentle stroll round the yard and absolutely no work what so ever.<\/p>\n

Adam sat up and swung his legs just a little gingerly over the edge of the bed. He pulled his night shirt off over his head and looked down at his body. It had changed little during his enforced idleness, broad shouldered, broad chested, lean-hipped, well furred from shoulder to groin with curling dark hair. The tan embedded in his arms and legs had faded a bit, and his normally iron hard muscles had lost just a little tone, but there was nothing that exercise wouldn\u2019t quickly put right. Once he was able to get back on a horse he would soon get properly fit again. All he had to show for the ugly gunshot wound that had very nearly killed him was a puckered purple scar marring the smoothness of his belly. The scar of course, would fade eventually to silver, but the puckering would be with him for life.<\/p>\n

He stood up, still moving with something of the exaggerated care that he learned early on in his recovery, and went over to the dresser. The face in the mirror looked much the same as well. A strong face with amber coloured, heavily hooded eyes, a firm mouth and chin, now wearing a full days growth of beard, and a hairline that ~ whether he liked it or not ~ was starting to recede. There were laughter lines around his eyes and mouth and some other lines as well, lines that were new, born of pain. He ran a hand through his raven black hair, longer now than he normally liked it, and decided that, for sure, he would have to get one of his brothers to do some barbering for him. Preferably not his youngest brother who had a bizarre sense of humour and was not to be trusted with the scissors. The beard was something he thought he’d better deal with right now. If he was going to put convalescence behind him he would have to put in an appearance at the breakfast table, and his father was a bit of a stickler when it came to the proprieties. Shirts in the house at all times, jacket and tie at dinner, and beards, even embryonic ones, were not on the list of acceptablities.<\/p>\n

Adam lathered up his face and reached for his razor. At least now he was able to shave himself. In the early days of his illness his father or one of his brothers had done the job for him and having someone else, even someone he trusted with his life, near his throat with an open cut throat blade made him sweat.<\/p>\n

Once his face was clean, Adam found himself some socks and reached for a favourite black shirt and a pair of pants that, while old and worn almost to destruction, were supremely comfortable. And then came the symbol of his return to health. Instead of his old scuffed house slippers he pulled on, with some difficulty, his stiff leather boots. Now he looked like himself again, and if he still felt a little sore here and there he certainly wasn\u2019t going to tell anyone about it.<\/p>\n

He stood for a moment and looked around the familiar room. For a while it had become his prison but now it was just a bedroom again, comfortable and comforting, his own personal space filled with treasured belongings and fond memories. His handsome face quirked in a little smile and he reached for the handle of the door.<\/p>\n

Adam was not the only Cartwright in the house to sit on the edge of their bed that morning and critically examine the state of their body. Jenny Cartwright perched on the edge of the massive four-poster she shared with her husband and looked down at hers in despair. The neat pert bosom and tiny waist of which she had always been justifiably proud had disappeared as if they had never been. Now, as she sat, her lap was filled with the huge bulge of her belly. Beneath the ruffled cambric of her night dress the proportions of it seemed huge. It was hard and hot, and the child inside wouldn\u2019t stay still for a moment. Even as she watched what was obviously a small elbow thrust itself out from inside and stayed there, adding to her discomfort.<\/p>\n

She felt huge and unlovely and so very tired, and by her own reckoning, she still had two whole weeks to go. With a small sigh she hauled herself up onto her feet and waddled ~ she could think of no other term for it ~ over to the dresser and sat down in front of the mirror. She looked as tired as she felt. Her sea-green eyes were infinitely weary, and there were lines of fatigue etched in a face already too narrow in the jaw to be truly beautiful.<\/p>\n

The reflection of her husband appeared behind her in the looking glass. Ben had risen before her and was already shaved and resplendently dressed in silver grey broadcloth with matching waistcoat, white shirt and black ribbon tie. He rested his fingertips lightly on her shoulders and lowered his silvered head to kiss the back of her neck. Although past middle age Ben was still a handsome, powerful, charismatic man. A big man in every sense of the word, tall, broad shouldered and barrel chested he had a deep booming voice that could lift the roof when raised in anger, or, as now, purr as softly as a kitten into her ear. \u201cGood morning, my dear love.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny closed her eyes and just for a moment allowed her head to rest against him, drawing strength from the power of his love. Ben, it seemed, never noticed how gross and cumbersome she had become. She put up her hand and gently touched the side of his face. When she opened her eyes again he was looking at her in the mirror. The irises of his eyes were such a deep brown they often appeared black, as they did now. They were eyes that could pierce a man to his very soul, but now they were softened with concern.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you ill?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, my dear.\u201d She shook her head with a little laugh, and to him her voice was like music. \u201cJust tired. I might need to sleep but I think our beloved child has other ideas.\u201d She took his hand and placed it palm down against her belly where the baby was turning round yet again.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf our son has been keeping you awake,\u201d he said with mock severity, \u201cI shall have to have serious words with him at the earliest opportunity.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled into the mirror. \u201cIt might be a daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head. \u201cIt\u2019s a son. Believe me. I am a man of considerable experience when it comes to sons.\u201d He kissed her again and moved away from her, picking up bits and pieces from round the room: a handkerchief, his wallet and some small change from his bureaux.<\/p>\n

Jenny turned to watch him. First and foremost Ben was a rancher and a timber baron, but lately his interests had expanded to include mine ownership and a partnership in a freight business, and his sphere of influence was increasing in both the business and political worlds. His forthright manner and basic Christian values made him popular, but not with everyone, and his wealth made him powerful. Jenny was delighted to see him happy and successful, but sometimes she worried about him, especially on days like today when he was going away.<\/p>\n

From across the room he smiled at her. \u201cI\u2019ll see you at breakfast, my love.\u201d and with that he was gone through the door.<\/p>\n

It was time to get another day underway, but each day it was becoming harder and harder to get started. Jenny brushed out her long dark-red hair and wound it swiftly into a loose coil that approximated the fashion in the latest Paris magazine. She didn\u2019t have the necessary ornate clasps to hold it in place, so she improvised with some jade-headed hairpins that Ben had given her on their first wedding anniversary. She dressed in a loose wrap around gown that was about all she could get into at the moment and then clung helplessly to the post of the bed as the baby kicked again, this time harder than ever before. She had the distinct feeling that today was going to be difficult.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss stifled a mighty yawn. He had been up this morning before it was even light, sneaking down the stairs in his stockinged feet to avoid waking the household, averting the awkward questions that he knew would be asked, especially by his father, and the ribbing he would have to endure from his brothers. He knew that he would have to pay for it later, but what with all the extra work around the place lately and his brother being laid up sick for so long, it was hard for a man to get any free time to himself. At the moment, a visit to the barn in the early morning was about the best start to the day there was.<\/p>\n

Added to which, the pain that had been bothering him off and on for some days had taken a hold with a vengeance. It was centred somewhere low down in his right jaw, and it was taking on an insistent, nagging quality. It had kept him awake for most of the night, and first of the daylight and the chance to get up and do something to take his mind off it, had been a welcome distraction.<\/p>\n

Hoss looked at the little bundle of fur in his big hand and smiled a big soft smile. It was worth being a little tired to spend some time with these cute little critters. A huge powerful man, as tall as his father and much further around, Hoss had a heart as big as the world. Nothing pleased him more than to hold the little scrap of new-born life close to his cheek and hear its soft mewling noises as it sought blindly at his fingers.<\/p>\n

He spoke gently to the little kitty, soft nonsense words, and put it back down besides its mamma. She had six tiny little kittens nosing up to her. All black and white ones just like herself. She licked over the one Hoss had just put back and nuzzled it back into line with the others.<\/p>\n

The big man straightened up and yawned again. While he appreciated that the kitties purpose was to keep the rat population to manageable proportions, and they had to get used to being outside, it seemed awful hard on the little family to make it live out in the barn like this. He would have kind of liked to have them over in the house but he knew his father would never have allowed it. While Ben acknowledged willingly enough that his sons were all grown men now, he still frequently treated them just like they were children. Hoss sometimes wondered why.\u00a0 He put a bit of extra bedding in the box for the mamma cat and started to think about the other thing that started the day really well ~ breakfast.<\/p>\n

He gave the horses theirs first, so that they got to eat before they were bridled, and then set off across the yard towards the house. There were some mighty interesting smells coming from the kitchen. Smells kind of like bacon, frying, and they were just the sort Hoss liked best.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe Cartwright was the last of Ben’s brood to emerge, blinking, into the light of day. He hit the top of the stairs in a flat run with boots in hand, and just saved himself from going headlong over the edge. It wasn\u2019t that Joe was lazy or work-shy. In fact, it was quite the opposite. That summer, while his brother had been laid up, he had taken on more than his share of the extra duties and worked many of the established hands to standstill. It was just that Joe had a problem with getting up in the morning.<\/p>\n

From the landing at the turn of the stairs he made a quick survey of the living room. His father was down already, dressed to kill and over at the desk putting the last of his papers in order for his meeting later in the day. His eldest brother Adam was in the middle of the room, book in hand as usual, arrested in mid-pontification by Joe\u2019s arrival. Adam still showed an unhealthy pallor lurking beneath his tan, but Joe was glad to see that he was standing upright at last, and not hunched up around his wound as he had been for such a long time. Though they squabbled and argued and even fought on occasion, Joe adored his brother and was delighted to see him on the road to recovery at last. Joe noticed that Adam had on his outdoor clothes and flashed him a broad grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cI see you finally got your runnin\u2019 boots on brother. Shame you ain\u2019t up to usin\u2019 \u2018em.\u201d<\/p>\n

There wasn\u2019t much Joe enjoyed more than baiting his brothers and Adam, with his more volatile temper, was easy prey. Even now, Joe could see his face tighten. \u201cJust you wait up awhile, Little Joe, an\u2019 I\u2019ll race the hide off of you.\u201d Adam stressed the word little, because he knew it would irritate, but Joe just grinned at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cAny time you\u2019re ready, Adam. Any time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam half raised the book to throw it at him and then thought better of it, more for the sake of the book than his brother.<\/p>\n

Ben came through from the office area alerted by his son\u2019s voices. He looked from one to the other, immediately protective of his eldest. \u201cThat\u2019s enough boys.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sat on the second step and pulled on his boots. Knowing his father\u2019s foibles as well as Adam, he had managed to grab a shave and in lieu of a comb he ran his fingers through his brown curls.<\/p>\n

Jenny appeared at the top of the stairs and came carefully down them. Balance these days, was getting to be a bit of a problem. Ever the gentleman Joe offered her his hand as he wished her good morning and helped her down the last flight.<\/p>\n

The front door opened and Hoss came in from the yard. He sniffed appreciatively. The house was filling up with the savoury smell of bacon and biscuits.<\/p>\n

Ben looked at him; \u201cYou\u2019re up early son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust checkin\u2019 up in the barn, Pa.\u201d Hoss carefully didn\u2019t meet his father\u2019s eyes. He knew he\u2019d blush scarlet if he did.<\/p>\n

Ben hesitated for just a fraction. He knew full well where his son had been, and why, but just at that moment he wasn\u2019t prepared to make an issue of it. Instead he spread his arms to encompass the whole of his family and started to herd them towards the breakfast table. \u201cCome along then. Let\u2019s eat.\u201d<\/p>\n

7:00 am.<\/p>\n

Ben sat himself down at the head of the table, and the others took their accustomed places around him, Jenny and Joe on his left and Hoss to his right and Adam right across from him at the far end of the table. He looked round at their familiar, loved faces, feeling proud of them and, this morning, very pleased with himself.\u00a0 His wife, he noticed looked tired and pale. Only to be expected, he supposed. Joe\u2019s wayward brown curls were getting a bit ragged, yet again. Ben wondered why it was that boy\u2019s hair grew so fast!\u00a0 Adam\u2019s too, was a bit longer than Ben would have normally approved of, but then he hadn\u2019t been able to get to a barber for a while. The patriarch decided to say nothing to either of them for the time being.\u00a0 Adam looked as if he could do with getting out into the sunlight and fresh air. Ben recalled the long conversation he\u2019d had with Paul Martin the day before and a slight frown of concern appeared between his eyes. Paul was still concerned about Adam\u2019s injury and had only reluctantly, under pressure from Adam himself, agreed to allow him limited freedom outside the house. Hoss was quieter than his usual boisterous self ~ not so ready to exchange insults with his brothers. Ben recalled that he hadn\u2019t eaten more than half his second helping at supper last night and wondered if he could be sickening for something, or was just plain not hungry.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing, bobbing and muttering away in Chinese, started bringing in dishes from the kitchen, plates of bacon and eggs and hot corn bread. The family bowed their heads and Ben gave thanks to his God for the meal and for the new day. As soon as he was done, the men around the table shook out their napkins and started on the food.<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s eyes settled first on his youngest son. \u201cJoseph, you have the money I gave you for Kingdom Jones put away safely?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, Pa. It\u2019ll be all right. Don\u2019t you worry none.\u201d<\/p>\n

If Joe had been paying attention to more than the eggs he was piling on his fork, he might have realized that that had not been the wisest thing to say. Ben had heard it before. Nothing Joe might have said would have ensured better that his father did start worrying, right then.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a lot of money for you to be carrying.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a whole lot of money for a mare, Pa,\u201d Adam put in from the end of the table. \u201cYou sure she\u2019s gonna be worth it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben harrumphed. \u201cFrom what Kingdom Jones tells me in his letter, it\u2019s a whole lot of mare.\u201d Privately, he wished that his eldest son were fit enough to ride up to Sparks with Joe, just as a sort of steadying influence, but there was no way he was going to say so. Instead, he said to Joe, \u201cYou make sure you look that animal over properly before you decide to buy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe spoke with his mouth half full; \u201cKingdom Jones says she\u2019s a half bred quarter horse. If we put her up to Monarch we should get us some stock that heavy enough for ranch work, but real quick too…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d Ever careful of his wife\u2019s sensibilities Ben scowled. \u201cNot at the table.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Pa.\u201d Joe\u2019s enthusiasm was still running high. \u201cAdam, that mare\u2019s just got to be worth it. If we can get ten or twelve foals from her!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou just make sure you check her legs out,\u201d Adam said. \u201cQuarter horses can get themselves some real bad legs if they haven\u2019t been treated right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll check! I\u2019ll check!\u201d Joe sighed. They\u2019d already had that conversation.<\/p>\n

Ben was resigned to letting Joe have his head. He looked down the table at Adam, \u201cI\u2019m sure your brother knows what he\u2019s doing.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam made a dismissive gesture; \u201cWell, I sure hope so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPa said I was to take care of the horse breeding programme!\u201d Joe glared. He was getting himself all riled up.<\/p>\n

\u201cEnough!\u201d Ben raised his voice above theirs. \u201cJoe is the one going to Sparks for the horse. And I\u2019m prepared to trust Joe\u2019s judgment in that area.\u201d The pronouncement was final and they all knew it. Adam and Joe exchanged looks across the table that spoke of unfinished business.<\/p>\n

Ben thanked heaven that Adam was finally going to get out of the house for a while. As his health had improved he\u2019d become steadily more irritable and short-tempered. Arguments had been flaring more and more frequently, especially between him and his volatile youngest brother. Getting outside for a bit might burn some of the fire out of him.<\/p>\n

He poured coffee into his wife\u2019s cup and she smiled at him. He noticed that she wasn\u2019t eating much, just nibbling on a bit of dry toast. \u201cWould you care for some eggs, my dear?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, no.\u201d She put down her toast and her napkin, \u201cI\u2019m not really hungry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou must keep you strength up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny touched his arm gently. \u201cI\u2019m well enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben looked to the other side of the table, expecting by now, to find his other son eating his way steadily though his second, or third, helping. To his surprise Hoss was merely picking at his food with his fork.\u00a0 \u201cWhat is it, son? I thought you were hungry?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, Pa. I sure am hungry.\u201d Hoss shovelled some egg into his mouth and chewed, but without much enthusiasm.<\/p>\n

Ben thought he looked pale and a bit peaky. He frowned. \u201cYou\u2019re riding up to the north quarter today, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir. I was gonna take a turn around Possum Creek. We seem to be down some cows up in that corner section. Thought I might be able to find \u2018em and check along them fences up there at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood idea. While you\u2019re riding through there, you might go on up into the hill country, check that there\u2019s no cat sign about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll do that, Pa.\u201d Hoss still looked far from happy.<\/p>\n

Forgetting himself, he put a chunk of crisp, fried bacon into his mouth and bit down hard. \u201cOuch!\u201d The cry of pain was involuntary. Four pairs of eyes gazed at him in some concern.<\/p>\n

Ben asked the question, \u201cWhat is it son?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, Pa.\u201d Hoss rubbed the side of his jaw ruefully. \u201cI sure got a face ache.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe grinned at him cross the table. \u201cThat’s what you get for eatin\u2019 all them sweetenin\u2019s. We done told you they all \u2019d rot your teeth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t got no tooth rot.\u201d Hoss looked more miserable than ever. \u201cAll I got is a face ache\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe one almost certainly indicates the other,\u201d Adam said cynically from his end of the table.<\/p>\n

Hoss glowered at him. \u201cI said I ain\u2019t got no tooth rot!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou eat enough of that candy to rot out every tooth in your head.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCandy don\u2019t rot your teeth!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam put down his fork; \u201cIt\u2019s been proved…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s enough!\u201d Ben said firmly. The family this morning was proving altogether too quarrelsome. \u201cHoss, if the pain doesn\u2019t go away by tomorrow, you\u2019ll have to go into town and see that new tooth doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss mumbled something that his father didn\u2019t quite catch, but which earned him a dark look anyway. Whatever happened, he had no intention whatever of visiting the tooth doctor. He and Joe had been in town the day the new dentist had moved into a second floor office in main street, and they had seen some of the tools of his trade.<\/p>\n

Jenny looked across the table with sympathy. \u201cI\u2019ll get you some whiskey to rub on it before you go out. It\u2019ll help with the pain.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, ma\u2019am.\u201d Hoss pushed his food around some more and finally lay down his fork with a sigh. He was still hungry, but his face was paining something awful.<\/p>\n

Ben looked round the table. Everyone seemed to have finished eating except Joe, who was munching on biscuits smeared, rather too thickly, Ben thought, with molasses. Adam had sat back in his chair and was sipping at his second cup of coffee. He had eaten a little, but since being relieved of his milk sop and gruel diet, his normally robust appetite had not recovered. Ben worried about the weight he had lost. There was still a lot of food on the table, and Ben knew that wasn\u2019t going to please the Chinese cook. Hop Sing took it as a personal affront if there were more than a few crumbs left. Well, this morning that couldn\u2019t be helped. He put his napkin down on the table and got to his feet, a general signal for them all to rise.<\/p>\n

Joe and Hoss headed for the barn to start saddling horses. Ben folded his sheaf of papers and tucked them into his inside pocket. Then he started putting other bits and pieces into his saddlebags. Adam wandered over to the desk, coffee cup still in hand; \u201cI wish I could go with you, Pa. I\u2019d sure like to sit in on those meetings. They use steam engines in England to run all sorts of machinery these days. There has to be some way they can be used to pump the water up out mine workings.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s as may be. The question today is, how far are we prepared to go to accommodate the steam engine, in the shape of the locomotive, in Nevada.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s progress, Pa. You can\u2019t stand in the way of progress or you\u2019re just going to get run down by it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben glared at him; \u201cI think progress is in serious danger of running rough shod over everything that\u2019s fine and beautiful in this country. You\u2019ve seen those open cast mines up north – great gaping wounds in the landscape. They\u2019re an offence to the works of God!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam sighed. \u201cI have to agree with you there, Pa. There has to be a better way. But you can\u2019t just call a halt to development because you don\u2019t like some of the side effects.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben straightened up and looked at him, scowling; \u201cThat\u2019s another thing! You\u2019ve been reading that Charles Darwin\u2019s book again, haven\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam had the grace to look defensive. \u201cA lot of it makes sense, Pa. It\u2019s just like we breed cattle and horses the way we want them by buying in certain blood lines, only it sort of happens naturally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you\u2019re prepared to believe that we\u2019re descended down from monkeys?!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot exactly, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the Book you should be reading!\u201d Ben pointed with an authoritative finger to the huge family Bible where it sat on the shelf. \u201cGet yourself a little humility in the sight of God!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam sighed. This was an argument he was not going to win. \u201cYes, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben gathered up his saddlebags and started for the door. Halfway there he turned back; \u201cNow you remember what doc. Martin told you yesterday. You can stroll around the yard an\u2019 the barn but you\u2019re to get plenty of rest, and you\u2019re not to do anything what-so-ever in the way of work. You hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hear you, Pa.\u201d Sometimes, Adam thought, his father insisted on treating him as if he were still a child<\/p>\n

Ben looked at him a moment longer, wondering, not for the first time, just how much of what he said his son really did hear.<\/p>\n

He strapped on his gun; the ornately tooled holster looked somewhat incongruous against his suit pants leg, and picked up his hat.<\/p>\n

Jenny was waiting out on the porch. She looked strained, with dark shadows under her lovely green eyes. For one moment Ben considered putting off his trip to Silver City. He didn\u2019t like the thought of leaving his wife alone, but the meeting was important, and if he wasn\u2019t there to have his say there could be consequences he didn\u2019t even like to consider. Besides, he consoled himself, Hop Sing would be there, and good, strong, reliable Adam.<\/p>\n

Hat and saddlebags in one hand, he tipped up Jenny\u2019s jaw with the fingers of the other and brushed her lips with his.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou take care of yourself. I\u2019ll be back tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

She raised her face for a more thorough kiss. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t really ride both ways in one day. Why don\u2019t you stay in Silver City tonight and come back tomorrow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy place is here with you. I\u2019ll be back before midnight.\u201d He put his arm round her and drew her closer. Her belly got in the way and they both laughed. \u201cYou take good care of yourself.\u201d he said gently.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry. I\u2019ll be all right. What can happen? Any way, Adam will be here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben glanced back at the house and lowered his voice; \u201cJen, don\u2019t rely too much on Adam. He\u2019s not as nearly as strong as he likes to think he is.\u201d Jenny drew back, looking at him in sudden concern. Ben hastened to reassure her. \u201cI don\u2019t mean he\u2019s going to bust loose inside again. Paul says he had to take it real easy, or he\u2019s going to exhaust himself and make himself ill all over again. He wouldn\u2019t have let him out of the house for another month yet, but Adam\u2019s going just plain crazy cooped up the way he\u2019s been.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll keep an eye on him and make sure he takes a nap after lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n

The thought of his diminutive, heavily pregnant wife packing his hulking great son off to bed struck Ben as funny. He kissed her again and turned as Joe and Hoss came up leading his horse and their own. Ben slung his saddlebags over the big buckskins\u2019 saddle.<\/p>\n

Joe and Hoss were already mounted up and were waiting for him. He kissed his wife again and stepped up onto the horse.<\/p>\n

8:00 am<\/p>\n

The last of the autumn mist was burning off the land with the promise of another hot day to come when Ben and Joe pulled their horses to a halt at the crossroads. They sat for a while letting them blow. They both had a long way yet to ride, and there was no point in getting the animals all lathered up ahead of time. This was arid, inhospitable country with dust for dirt and nothing but scrub brush for cover.<\/p>\n

Ben sat back in his saddle and looked across at Joe; \u201cThere\u2019s your road to Sparks, son. About two and a half hour\u2019s comfortable ride. You take care now, and give Kingdom Jones my regards.\u201d<\/p>\n

“I’ll be sure to do that, Pa.”\u00a0 Joe touched his hat to his father and turned his horse along the right hand trail.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, and Joseph,\u201d Ben called after him. \u201cWhile you\u2019re in Sparks, get your hair cut.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, sir!\u201d Joe wondered why his father insisted so often on treating him like a child.<\/p>\n

Ben sat and watched him until he was out of sight before turning his own horse the other way and moving off.<\/p>\n

Joe kicked the piebald mare into an easy ground-covering canter. He wanted to get some substantial distance behind him before it really got hot.<\/p>\n

Joe, on this particular morning, was a contented man. He was young, healthy and carefree doing the job he wanted to do in the place he loved best. He liked to visit the cities well enough, to see the sights and mix with people, especially young ladies, many of whom his father would not have approved. He liked to drink, and play cards, and visit the dance halls and saloons On occasion, he even allowed his big brother to drag him to a museum or gallery. The last one, he recalled, had been an enlightenment, both to Joe\u2019s experience and of his brother\u2019s erudition, the pictures being entirely of ladies in the ultimate stage of undress. The memory brought a smile to Joe\u2019s lips as he rode.<\/p>\n

As always, the lure of the wild Nevada landscape drew him back home. His father, in his more whimsical moments, would say it was a spell cast on him at birth, and sometimes, overawed by the majesty and beauty of the lakes, and the pines and the pastures, Joe could almost believe it was true. Whatever the cause, none of them seemed able to stay away for long. Even this semi-desert county had its own particular grandeur. The rolling hills were dotted with low growing scrub pine and sage brush, two different greens contrasting with the whitish gold of the parched earth, the whole of it arched over by a bowl of blue just starting to become brazen.<\/p>\n

So it was that Joe had his head up and his eyes on the horizon when the biggest green-backed brush lizard either he or the horse had ever seen shot out from almost directly under the mare\u2019s hooves. She squealed and shied, skewing sideways. Joe came out of the saddle, somersaulting over the horse\u2019s shoulder to land flat on his back in the dirt of the road. The mare shied again at her fallen rider and galloped off down the road with the reins flying.<\/p>\n

Joe sat up and looked after her, cursing.<\/p>\n

The mare didn\u2019t stop. She kept on going until she was out of sight. Carefully, Joe got up and explored his abused rear end. He was going to have some real juicy bruises right where he sat.<\/p>\n

He bent down painfully and picked up his hat, dusting it off against his pants leg. He was afoot and alone in unforgiving country. There was little choice but to start trudging determinedly after the mare.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss had parted company with his father and brother before they crossed the boundary of the Ponderosa, turning off to take the high trail towards the north corner of the range. The big man had been feeling un-talkative and morose, but out here in the wilds, with the open country and the scattered woodlands spreading themselves before him like the open pages of a book, ever changing and always beautiful, his spirits began to lift. Every so often he would stop in a thicket, or by a tree, and just sit quietly for a bit listening to the unquiet silence and watching the small wildlife that soon emerged from hiding to take up small lives again. At each such stop he would un-stopper the bottle of whiskey his stepmother had given him.<\/p>\n

Now, Hoss wasn\u2019t a hard drinking man. He liked a beer or two well enough, especially if the weather was hot and the company was good, but corn liquor was not really to his taste. This however, was not run of the mill saloon rotgut. It was his Pa\u2019s best sippin\u2019 whiskey and Hoss could appreciate the difference. He rubbed generous measures of the potent alcohol onto his gums round about where the pain was. It helped a bit for a while.<\/p>\n

Hoss moved his big, black, raw-boned horse on, steadily making higher and higher ground until he reached the line where it was too dry and windswept for the grass to grow well. Here, there were sand lizards, and gopher holes, and the trail switched back and forth between huge rocks that looked like the roots of the earth itself, washed out by a rainstorm.<\/p>\n

Hoss studied the ground for signs of the big cats that loved this high dry country. There were no paw prints and no fresh scat, nothing at all to indicate that a cougar had cubbed in these hills that summer. Hoss rubbed his jaw with more whiskey and moved on.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was Jenny who had to placate Hop Sing. The Cartwright\u2019s Chinese cook had been with the family for more years than anyone cared to count, but he was not above putting on his coat and hat, and heading for the door with his carpet bag in his hand whenever he felt himself slighted. This morning he felt himself very slighted. In his book it was a mortal insult if every crumb he prepared was not devoured at the table, the only excuse being if someone were ill, or, presumably, dead. Even Adam had now lost his privileged status as an invalid and was expected to clear his plate on cue. This morning Adam had not been the culprit.<\/p>\n

The Chinaman had cleared the table with a loudly voluble stream of insults, most of which, fortunately, no one could understand. He scraped the remains of the meal, which were considerable it being Hoss that hadn\u2019t eaten, into the pig bin, piled the plates, unwashed, into the sink and started to pack the venerable bag.<\/p>\n

Jenny reasoned, cajoled and finally begged. Hop Sing became suddenly deaf to American English. Jenny spoke no Chinese. The resulting confrontation, while loud and prolonged, was unproductive. Jenny prevailed, finally, by standing in the doorway and refusing to move until Hop Sing ran out of steam and threw up his hands in despair. There were times when being huge had its advantages.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Adam crossed the yard at a leisurely pace. He had all but forgotten how pleasant it was to breathe air that was moving and alive, freshly scented with pine and late roses. The sun was warm on his face and bright in his eyes. He felt, unfairly, as if he were a man freshly released from prison.<\/p>\n

Old Charlie was mustering the hands down in the corrals, getting them mounted up and dispatched to various parts of the ranch. The autumn gather was in full flow, the cattle being driven towards the feeding stations where hay, and grain, could be distributed to them in the short days of winter when the grass would be too deeply buried in snow for them to dig out. He looked up as Adam came up, nodding his head in respect, but his washed out eyes appraised the younger man keenly. He didn\u2019t miss the fact that Adam was thinner, and paler, and had new pain lines in his face. \u201cAdam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCharlie.\u201d Adam nodded back. \u201cHow\u2019s it going?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s goin\u2019,\u201d Charlie said. He didn\u2019t need to tell Adam that the work was hard, and long, and that they were short handed and falling behind schedule.<\/p>\n

Adam looked a little wistfully at the men riding off. \u201cWish I could ride with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie eyed him up and down, then turned his head to the side and spat tobacco juice. He\u2019d known this young Cartwright since he\u2019d been a boy and he knew how to handle him. \u201cWell, you can\u2019t. You know danged well you can\u2019t get up on no horse. You jist get yorsel\u2019 well ag\u2019in so\u2019s you kin help wi\u2019 the round up next year.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be back on a horse a long time before that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019 you go countin\u2019 no chickens. Them belly wounds c\u2019n take one hell\u2019ve a long time t\u2019 heal over. You git\u00a0 yorsel\u2019 all over excited \u2018n\u2019 bust yoursel\u2019 open all over ag\u2019in \u2018n\u2019 yo\u2019re Pa\u2019ll have yo\u2019re guts fer garters \u2018n\u2019 ours \u2018n\u2019 all fer lettin\u2019 yer do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam smiled ruefully; \u201cI imagine he\u2019d do just that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie prepared to mount up, then changed his mind and turned back as a thought struck him; \u201cWhat you gonna do wi\u2019 yorsel\u2019 now you up \u2018n\u2019 \u2018bout? Ain\u2019t your Pa left you none \u2018o that fancy book keepin\u2019 ta keep you busy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam replied with a laugh; \u201cI\u2019m sure he has. If I spend any more time in that house I\u2019ll just go plain loco. I thought I might go later and look over those new foals of Little Joe\u2019s. I haven\u2019t got to see any of them yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie chewed thoughtfully. \u201cThey\u2019re down on that lower pasture land. That sure is too far fer you ta walk. You want I should have one o\u2019 the hands t\u2019 hitch up the buckboard \u2019n drive you down there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t afford to waste a man\u2019s day driving me about, Charlie.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it.\u201d Charlie eyed him shrewdly. \u201c\u2018N\u2019 I know what yo\u2019re Pa done tol\u2019 me. You ain\u2019t supposed ta do nothin\u2019, \u2018n\u2019 we ain\u2019t supposed ta let ya do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam gave a small sigh. He could imagine the instructions his father had left behind him. Even when Ben was away, he was still right there watching over him. This time he knew his father was right.\u00a0 He conceded the point; \u201cAll right, Charlie. I\u2019ll stay home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Charlie looked him up and down, reading his body language with an experienced eye. \u201cGlad ta hear it.\u201d He said, satisfied and turned back to his horse.<\/p>\n

Adam stood back watching as he climbed into the saddle. Charlie swung his pony round on a dollar and looked down at him. Despite his gruff manner Charlie had a liking for this young man and his eyes were amiable. \u201cYou take it real easy now, Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike I have a choice?\u201d Adam asked wryly.<\/p>\n

Charlie raised his hand in farewell and moved off, following the last of the hands out of the yard.<\/p>\n

9:00 am<\/p>\n

The sun was well up and it was getting hot. Joe had taken off his coat and was carrying it slung over his shoulder. It was starting to get heavy. Now he took off his hat and wiped his sleeve across his forehead. His brown curls were already damp with sweat. He limped over to a convenient rock and sat, rubbing the pain out of his foot through the leather of his boot. He had covered several miles since the mare had dumped him in the dirt, and the stylish high-heeled riding boots he favoured were certainly not designed with walking in mind.<\/p>\n

The countryside around him all looked very much the same. One clump of scrub was much like another. For all he could tell he might have been walking round and round these same two hills for an hour, and the sand coloured soil and the sagebrush were starting to lose their attraction. He was beginning to wonder just how far that danged onery mare might have run. He squinted up at the sun, which was burning bright and brassy now, and climbing the side of the sky; and he looked at the road, long and dusty with a heat haze just starting to shimmer. He shook his head and replaced his hat. There was no help for it. He simply had to keep walking.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jenny prowled the living room of the ranch house. The huge living space had been designed years before her arrival by Adam and his father and built with their own hands. It combined sitting room, office space and dining area in one. It served the family as library, gun room, music room and games room. Lives were lived out here. A log fire burned in the stone built hearth, its heat dissipated by the sheer size of the room. Insulated from the extremes by the doubly thick split pine walls it was neither hot nor cold in summer or winter.<\/p>\n

Jenny\u2019s loom stood in one corner, unused at present. She was too big in the belly to sit behind it. Her spinning wheel and workbox were not far away. A half played game of chess sat on the round table, waiting for Ben and Joe to return and finish it.<\/p>\n

She lingered by Ben\u2019s desk, her hand on the back of his chair. Her eyes rested a while on the faces of the women she shared her husband with. She felt no jealousy for she knew that he loved her unreservedly, but she was curious. These three women and Ben\u2019s memories of them were as much a part of the man she adored as was his love for his sons, and for the land that he called his own. Each of the women was different, individual and striking, and each in her own way was remarkably beautiful. In each face, softened by femininity, she could see the strong features of her stepsons. The face in the fourth frame was her own.<\/p>\n

She took a book down from the shelf and opened it at random. It was a dry and dusty history. She sat in Ben\u2019s armchair beside the fire, unable to tuck her legs up because of her size, and attempted to read. The words seemed to run together, and she read the same paragraph three times over without learning anything.<\/p>\n

She put down the book and picked up her needlework, but her concentration was lacking and she had not the patience to finish the intricate embroidery on the skirt of the baby\u2019s dress.<\/p>\n

The child moved languidly, unhappy that she was sitting down and not standing. To placate it she got up and walked about some more.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss stepped from the saddle and hunkered down to get a better look at the ground. There was some sign here, but it was not fresh and that made it difficult to read. A little frown formed between his eyes, and he rubbed his sore jaw thoughtfully. Looked at one way, it seemed as if some large pawed animal had passed this way several days ago, but it wasn\u2019t cougar spore. The pads splayed out further, and there was evidence of claws extended even as the creature walked.<\/p>\n

Hoss straightened up and stroked his horse\u2019s soft muzzle, puzzling at the problem. \u201cAin\u2019t no tellin\u2019, fella,\u201d he said softly. \u201cBut I reckon that there\u2019s a varmint for sure. Can\u2019t tell which way he went.\u201d The horse snorted and nuzzled at his hand for a candy. Hoss found him one in a pocket and let him snuffle it out of his hand. \u201cDon\u2019t reckon it\u2019s gonna give you no tooth rot, eh?\u201d The horse agreed. Hoss gave him a pat and went to get the whiskey bottle out of his saddlebags.<\/p>\n

High above, in the deep shadows of a rocky cave, two enormous bright green eyes slowly opened, and slitted pupils closed up tight against the brightness of the sunlight. A huge, black-furred body stretched, cat-like, in the darkness. A soft sensitive nose sniffed at the air. Something new had entered a circumscribed world. Something sensed, until now, only at a distance. Curiosity stirred in a very alien mind. Powerful muscles rippled beneath the ebony dark hide. The cat-like body moved stealthily to the cave entrance and the green eyes looked out.<\/p>\n

Below, for the creature had some concept of up and down, were two creatures of the lower, wetter lands. A four footed one, prey, fleet footed but nothing like fleet footed enough if the creature were hunting; and the other, stranger, standing erect on two legs, soft yet somehow a threat. A rumble sounded somewhere deep down in the creature\u2019s throat, half roar, half-purr. The jaws opened to reveal black gums and sharp black teeth. The both of them were such easy, easy prey!<\/p>\n

But the creature was not hungry, only interested.<\/p>\n

Hoss took a sip of water from his canteen and winced as its coolness touched the soreness in his mouth. \u201cDanged tooth!\u201d he muttered holding his jaw.<\/p>\n

The black horse threw up its head, nostrils flaring as it caught the scent of something on the air. It whinnied an alarm call, shrill in the silence of the hills, and it started to dance sideways as it sensed the presence of a predator. Hoss managed to grab the reins before the animal ran off and left him afoot.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy now! Easy.\u201d Hoss put his hand on the horse\u2019s nose to quieten it and spoke softly; \u201cThere ain\u2019t nothin\u2019. Nothin\u2019 at all.\u201d His sharp blue eyes searched the rock formations around and above him for signs of movement, but he saw nothing. All was quiet and still.<\/p>\n

Under his hand the horse settled again. Hoss shook his head, puzzled. He took a small sip of the whiskey the for the sake of his tooth and climbed back aboard.<\/p>\n

As he moved off the curious green eyes watched and after perhaps a minute, the varmint began to stalk.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In a gentle stroll Adam completed his circuit of the ranch buildings and corrals. It had been a journey of re-familiarisation. Unlike most complexes of ranch buildings, which tended to evolve and spread as necessity demanded, those of the Ponderosa had been carefully planned. Adam had designed them himself and then helped build them with his own hands and back. That\u2019s not to say there was nothing he would have liked to change. The outhouse arrangements for instance, were now, to his mind, decidedly primitive. His lips quirked in a smile as he thought how bitterly his father complained, daily, each winter. He decided he would have to investigate the modern methods of sanitation being developed in Europe and the cities on the east-coast to see if there were a way he could adapt them to make life more comfortable for his family.<\/p>\n

Only details had changed while he\u2019d lain ill, but those details told him a lot about the function of the ranch and how well it was doing.<\/p>\n

Generally speaking the structures were in good repair. Adam would have expected no less of his family. He noticed only one shingle on a shed roof that needed a nail. Winter-feed and bedding for the stock had been gathered into the barns. While the quality of the sweet hay was good enough the quantity, in his opinion, was barely sufficient. If it turned out to be a typical Nevadan winter with blizzards all the way from November clear through to March, they were going to have their problems. He made a mental note to speak to his father about making some extra provision.<\/p>\n

On his way back to the house he stopped by the barn to fuss the mother cat and introduce himself to the kittens. He would never have said so, but he could see the attraction the little blind fur balls had for his big, soft hearted younger brother.<\/p>\n

He hadn\u2019t realized that just a short walk could take so much out of a man. He was plumb tuckered out and very glad Charlie had talked him out of the trip to the lower pastures. In fact, he was so tired a wave of weakness threatened to overwhelm him as he stood up. His eyelids were displaying an alarming tendency to droop, and it was a temptation to stretch out on the straw for a little rest. Determinedly, he shook off the fatigue and headed for the house, one hand pressed hard against his newly healed scar in a gesture that had become habitual in recent weeks.<\/p>\n

10:00 am<\/p>\n

At first it had seemed such a good idea, to sit at the spinning wheel and spin the soft cream wool of her Jacob\u2019s sheep into fine woollen thread. The rocking motion of the treadle and the gentle clacking of the machine often lulled the restless child. Indeed, it was quieter now, but as she straightened, Jenny gasped aloud at the sudden pain across the middle of her back.<\/p>\n

She stood up carefully, both hands behind her and stretched herself. The pain eased, settling into a nagging ache, low down. She felt so very tired and wanted nothing more in the world to lie down for a bit.<\/p>\n

Tackling the staircase on her own was just too daunting a prospect. The long sofa, on the other hand, was much more inviting. Awkwardly she walked over and lowered herself down. The irate rattling of pots and pans from the kitchen had abated, and, except for the slow, steady ticking of the long case clock, the big house was quiet.<\/p>\n

Jenny lay on her back with her hands resting lightly on her stomach. For once the child was quiescent as if it were asleep, or pondering upon some deep enigma. Jenny\u2019s eyes closed and her breathing steadied and she slept.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss pulled his horse to a halt and shifted his butt around in the saddle. He had ridden down now, out of the hills, and from this final bend in the trail he could over look a good section of the north quarter.<\/p>\n

The high pastureland was lush with grass, sere and tussocky now after the summer\u2019s heat, and it sort of rolled, building itself up in a series of slow waves into the foothills of the Sierras. Here and there, a sweet chestnut still in full summer leafage dotted the grassland, and a couple of miles away, a stand of willow marked the line of Possum Creek where it twisted and turned, dipping at last into light woodland.<\/p>\n

There were cattle grazing, probably some of those Hoss had come all this way to find. Cows with their half-grown calves and some yearling steers that already wore the pine tree brand on their hip.<\/p>\n

Hoss took a little sip from the whiskey bottle and looked behind him. He knew darned well there wasn\u2019t another human being within a three hour ride of him. None the less, he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. The trail curved back into the dry hill country, shimmering in the sun. Not so much as a lizard moved, yet the feeling persisted. Something with a keen and savage intelligence was up in the rocks, and it was taking an interest in him – or more probably, in his horse. He could feel it deep down in the pit of his stomach. Hoss eased the rifle a little in its scabbard, just in case he suddenly needed it in a hell of a hurry. Gathering the reins into his big hands he nudged the horse forward with his heels.<\/p>\n

Unafraid and unhurried, the great black beast padded silently down the centre of the trail, not quite a cat but a fluid feline shape. It stopped where the man and the horse had stopped, snuffling at the ground. Ahead of it were the cooler, wetter lands where it rarely ventured except when hunting. It could have left the trail there and then and returned to its haunt in the hills, but something about the two legged intruder had piqued its curiosity, and its spark of intelligence drove it on. Black jaws agape and green eyes glowing, it flowed on into the pastureland.<\/p>\n

Hoss reached the banks of Possum Creek in about twenty minutes. The water was high and running swiftly, bespeaking rainfall higher in the foothills. He turned the horse\u2019s head downhill and kicked on. The animal did a little dance and fought the bridle. Hoss looked back. He could feel the little hairs on his neck and arms all standing erect. There was nothing to see but grass and an occasional cow. Frowning, he brought the horse under firmer control and moved on along the bank.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The road curved up and around the shoulder of the hill before dipping down again into the semi-desert. As Joe laboured his way to the top he was delighted to see that his horse had finally stopped running. Being a herd animal, she had found comfort with others of her own kind and stood quietly now, with the pair of workman like bays harnessed to the wagon that stood, lop-sided, in the middle of the road. Joe was not nearly so happy to see that the wheel was off, and that someone was lying sprawled under the fallen back end of the wagon.<\/p>\n

It was a big man, about his father\u2019s age, with longish grey hair, and about a two day growth of beard. He wore a work shirt, and grubby overalls and he looked as if he were in an awful lot of pain. Joe dropped to one knee in the dirt beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Mister, c\u2019n you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n

The grey head rolled and the eyes opened, blue-grey, but they had trouble focussing on Joe\u2019s face. All that came from the lips was a groan.<\/p>\n

Joe fetched the canteen from his saddle, taking care, while he was there, to tie the mare to the wagon. He moistened the stranger\u2019s lips.<\/p>\n

The man groaned again, and rolled his head in the dirt. \u201cLeg\u2019s broke!\u201d he said, through his pain. \u201cWas trying to fix the wheel, an\u2019 the wagon dropped!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take a look at it.\u201d Joe screwed the top back on the canteen, and squeezed, on his back, under the wagon bed.<\/p>\n

It was dark under there, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust enough to see what had happened. It wasn\u2019t good. The axle had come down hard against the man\u2019s right leg. His shin bone was all twisted out at a peculiar angle, and there was blood staining the cloth of his pants. Joe used his pocket knife to slit the pants leg up to the knee. Shards of white, splintered bone jutted out of an ugly wound. The man\u2019s leg was already purple and swelling.<\/p>\n

Joe wiped the sweat from his chin with the back of his hand. Not relishing the task in hand, he wriggled out again, into the sunlight.<\/p>\n

The blue-grey eyes fixed on his face, pain filled and anxious. Joe guessed that his own face told a lot of the story. He tried to put confidence into his voice; \u201cIt\u2019s gonna be all right. I\u2019m gonna get you out of there, Mister..?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIdress. I am Paulin Idress.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe thought he had detected a trace of accent, and the man\u2019s name confirmed it. He was Swedish, like Hoss\u2019s mother, or, at least, Scandinavian.<\/p>\n

Idress rolled his head again. His eyes were starting to glaze over.<\/p>\n

Joe kicked some boards out of the side of the wagon and used them, tied with his own shirttails, as splints. Idress\u2019s screams, as Joe straightened his leg, reverberated from the hillsides, and were something the younger Cartwright would remember, later, in his nightmares.<\/p>\n

As gently as he could, he pulled Idress out from under the wagon by the armpits. By now, the man was only semi-conscious, but still, he groaned.<\/p>\n

The wound was starting to bleed heavily. Joe didn\u2019t think there was much chance of saving the leg, no matter what, but he had to try to save the man\u2019s life.<\/p>\n

He turned his attention to the wagon. The wheel lay back in the road. It was beyond repair by anything except a fully equipped blacksmith\u2019s shop. Two of the spokes were broken, and the rim had sprung apart at the weld line.<\/p>\n

Joe stripped a longer length of board from the side of the wagon, hoping to heaven that it was going to be as strong as he needed it to be. With much heaving and sweating, and a few choice cuss words, he got it wedged up under the axle, and, with the rope from his saddle, he lashed it securely in place.<\/p>\n

He tied Idress into the wagon bed with a length of rope around his chest and climbed into the driving seat. With just three wheels on the wagon and the fourth corner dragging on the improvised sled, he gee\u2019d up the team, and they started to limp, slowly, on towards Sparks.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hop Sing had got over his fit of pique. He\u2019d never had any real intention of leaving. Early on he\u2019d made this kitchen, and this house, and this land, his home. In truth, he thought of himself as much one of the family as if his own name were Cartwright. It didn\u2019t hurt though, to threaten occasionally, just so that they really knew who was boss man in this household.<\/p>\n

He decided that tonight, because Mister Hoss wasn\u2019t eating, he\u2019d do one of his favourite meals, just to tempt him. Pork in a crisp crackling coat with sweet potato and onions all fried up.<\/p>\n

He turned around, the skillet in hand, just as the door to the yard opened and Mister Adam came into the kitchen. For a moment Adam clung weakly to the doorframe. Hop Sing took in the look of him at a glance and produced a sturdy wooden chair. \u201cYou sit!\u201d he ordered.<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t need telling twice. He sat.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sick!\u201d Hop Sing pronounced, taking in the drained face and the slumped shoulders. \u201cJust when we get you well, you sick again!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam held up a defensive hand; \u201cI\u2019m not sick, Hop Sing. I\u2019m just tired. I guess I must have over done it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing threw up his arms; \u201cDoctor tell you take it easy! Father tell you take it easy! Now look!\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam sighed. It seemed that everyone on the place knew just what the doctor had told him. So much for the new concept of patient confidentiality. \u201cI\u2019m all right, Hop Sing. Really I am. But I could do with some coffee. And, do I smell ginger cake?\u201d Ginger cake was one of Adam\u2019s absolute favourites and the air was redolent with the warm, sweet smell of it.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing beamed, his annoyance forgotten. There was nothing more likely to placate him than someone appreciating his cooking. He poured Adam a cup of thick black coffee from the pot kept constantly simmering on the back of the stove and cut him a substantial slice from the slab.<\/p>\n

Adam sat at the kitchen table, and sipped coffee and munched his way through the sticky warm cake He reflected that being confined to the ranch did have some advantages after all. He got first stab at the treats without having to compete with his brother, Hoss. He was well into his second slice, and discussing with Hop Sing the relative merits, in culinary terms, of river and lake-bass, when they were interrupted by a piercing cry of pain from the living room.<\/p>\n

11:00 am<\/p>\n

Silver City had grown some since Ben\u2019s last visit there. Fresh-faced timber frames standing shoulder to shoulder had extended Main Street way out into the desert land. Most of the buildings now had two, or even three floors, and many of the elaborate false fronts bore brightly painted signboards advertising goods and services Ben would never have dreamed of.<\/p>\n

He walked his horse over to the livery stable, and stepped down. He stretched himself carefully, straightening out the kinks of a long sustained ride. Secretly, he was glad he didn\u2019t have to make this journey too often. Perhaps it was a sign of getting old, but Ben didn\u2019t feel old. He felt as young as the springtime! The one thing he did regret was that his son Adam had been unable come with him. They didn\u2019t always see eye to eye, but he missed the boy\u2019s insight and his keen intellect, and, he had to admit, his often acid tongue. Then he laughed inwardly at himself. Boy indeed! Adam had been a full grown man these fifteen years past, even if he, as his father, did sometimes see him still as a child.<\/p>\n

And then, as he thought of Adam, the laughter in his eyes faded. His son had suffered a lot that year. The bullet that had nearly ended his life had left him with health problems that could be long term. Ben knew that if he, himself, hadn\u2019t gone off half cocked, and ordered Adam from the house without listening to what he had to say, the shooting might never have taken place. It was a thought that rose up from time to time, to torment him.<\/p>\n

A lad with tousled fair hair came out of the livery, and Ben handed over the horse and two bits for feed and a rub down. He figured the animal deserved it, and he wanted it fit enough to carry him home that same night. He knocked the dust off his hat against his suit pants leg, and brushed down the front of his jacket.<\/p>\n

Ben felt like a tourist as he gawked at the sights. There was a brand new dance hall, and several saloons, and what looked like a real high-class brothel built in the southern style with balustraded balconies outside each of the upstairs windows where the ladies could sit, and the customers could browse. Further on was a busy little shopping district with fancy storefronts that could have come directly from the any of the big cities on the coast. Ben found himself both fascinated, and bemused by some of the goods on show, particularly the ladies fashions as displayed on ridiculously proportioned manikins. He was glad at that moment that his wife wasn\u2019t with him. Jenny liked to dress in the latest style she could manage, and the thought of trying to squeeze her into the necessary corset made him sweat.<\/p>\n

The thought of his wife reminded him of the list she had written him, and he scanned the painted signboards looking for the haberdashery.<\/p>\n

The store he wanted was on the other side of the busy street. Ben found crossing from boardwalk to boardwalk something of an ordeal. The amount of traffic was amazing, and somewhat alarming, with carts, and wagons, and private carriages going every which-way, and a strange new innovation, a vehicle drawn by two horses in which a dozen members of the public could ride at a time for the price of a ticket.\u00a0 He found himself dodging between wheels and hooves and feeling quite the country bumpkin.<\/p>\n

A little breathless he pushed open the door. A little brass bell tinkled a welcome, and the door, closing, shut out the clamour of the street. The interior of the shop was dim, and perfumed with muslin and silk. There were several ladies in bonnets and shawls at the counters, being waited on by store clerks in dark waistcoats and white shirt sleeves. Ben tipped his hat to them, and they looked the big built rancher over with interest.<\/p>\n

One of the clerks approached; \u201cCan I be of service, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess so.\u201d Ben fished the scrap of paper out of his pocket. \u201cCan you fill this list?\u201d<\/p>\n

The store clerk scanned the note; \u201cYes, sir. Of course.\u201d He moved off, and Ben looked about him. The store was an Aladdin\u2019s cave, filled with boxes of buttons, and bolts of cloth, and reels of thread in every conceivable colour and shade. One case held a variety of scraps of lace, collars, and cuffs, and little trimmings for a lady\u2019s frock. When the clerk came back with Jenny\u2019s papers of pins, and a packet of sewing needles, Ben pointed out a particular little collar that had taken his eye, \u201cI\u2019ll take that too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA gift for a lady?\u201d asked one of the ladies, a small woman whose grey head came only up to Ben\u2019s chest. She looked up at him with bird bright eyes. \u201cWould you be courting, young man?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben laughed; \u201cFor my wife,\u201d he said with a slightly embarrassed smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen a lucky lady indeed!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA gift of thanks. She is about to have our child.\u201d Just then Ben saw the ribbon. A festoon of it hung behind the counter. He remembered Jenny searching her workbox in vain. \u201cThe ribbon,\u201d he said to the clerk, pointing.<\/p>\n

\u201cCertainly, sir. How much would you like?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben hesitated, bewildered, \u201cWell, all of it I guess\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe whole roll, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe whole roll.\u201d Ben decided, firmly.<\/p>\n

The woman with the bright eyes was looking at him with amusement. \u201cIt\u2019s to trim the baby’s shawl,\u201d he said by way of explanation.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh! So you’re expecting a boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, yes I am. But how did you know?\u201d Ben was acutely aware of the other ladies listening and smiling.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the latest idea from Europe, you know. Pink for a girl and blue for a boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was Ben\u2019s turn to be amused; \u201cIs that a fact? Then this will be – appropriate.\u201d<\/p>\n

The bright eyes twinkled at him; \u201cYou\u2019re very sure you\u2019re getting a son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d Ben touched his hat to her.<\/p>\n

The store clerk put the ribbon into the parcel, and tied it all up with string and sealing wax. Ben was stunned when the resulting bill came to folding money.<\/p>\n

Out again in the heat and clamour of the street, he took stock of the other things he needed to do. Ben bought spices for the kitchen, and, reluctantly, when he thought about Hoss\u2019s sore tooth, candy for his two younger sons. He wondered if Adam could possibly be right about sweetenings causing tooth rot, or if his eldest son were just being bloody minded and determined to upset his brother.<\/p>\n

Silver City now had a dedicated bookshop that Adam would have loved. Ben went in there, and arranged to have lists of all the latest titles sent home to his son. There was also a brand new tobacconist\u2019s shop on a prime corner plot with a window full of spun glass jars. Ben treated himself to some good pipe tobacco, so by the time he came to the last item on the list he already had quite a little bundle of packages.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing had given him a paper all covered in Chinese writing together with an address. The little Oriental\u2019s relatives seemed to spread far and wide across the nation. The directions led him down several back streets to a dark little shop that smelled of spices, and oils, and incense. There was a little Chinaman inside that could have been Hop Sing\u2019s brother. He had the same smile, and the same crinkly eyes, and the same bobbing bow. He took the piece of paper, and disappeared into the gloomy recesses of the shop with it.<\/p>\n

The small shop was filled with curiosities. Ben spent several minutes while he waited, examining the strange, and often bizarre, items in the boxes and bottles around the shop. Some of them he recognised from his days as a sea faring man, little dried sea horses, and starfish, and shrivelled up fronds of exotic herbs; joss sticks, and packets of little flavoured crackers, and packets and jars all neatly labelled with hand written Chinese characters. Others were utterly strange and completely bemusing.<\/p>\n

The Chinaman came back with a very small package wrapped up in white paper. He handed it over with a deep bow, and refused all Ben\u2019s attempts to pay.<\/p>\n

Emerging again, blinking, into the street, Ben decided that the next item on his agenda just had to be lunch.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The woodland below Possum Creek was sparse. The trees here were old and twisted and the vegetation beneath them thin. Underfoot the ground was tracked back and forth by the feet of cattle. Somewhere up ahead, there had to be a watering place.<\/p>\n

Old black branches reached down low over the meandering trail, and Hoss had to bend down in the saddle to pass under them. He rode with one hand clamped hard against his jaw. The pain was getting worse. It had spread from being just a face ache to an agony that filled the whole of his head, pounding in time with his heartbeat. It had spread down his neck, and into his shoulder and arm. He had consumed half the bottle of whiskey, but now it just didn\u2019t seem to be working any more. What Hoss was dreading worse, was an enforced visit to the new fangled tooth doctor that had moved into Virginia City only last week. He had seen the tools of the dentist\u2019s trade as they were carried into the building, and he had heard all the talk going round in the saloon. It had sounded to him like there was a veritable torture chamber being set up in that upstairs room. And the young, handsome, dark haired dentist with the moustache and the flashing white smile had, in the big man\u2019s mind, taken on the persona of a demon straight out of hell. One thing he was absolutely certain of, was that he wasn\u2019t going to allow any of those bright, shiny instruments anywhere near the inside of mouth. Unfortunately there was every chance that his Pa just wasn\u2019t going to see it that way.<\/p>\n

A low sound interrupted his morbid contemplation of present and future suffering. Hoss drew up the reins and sat, listening.<\/p>\n

After a moment, the sound came again, and Hoss knew it at once for what it was, a steer in some sort of trouble, bellowing. He moved on with care, watching both the ground and the low branches at the same time. The trail took another turn back towards the creek. The ground was getting softer. He could see the cloven footed tracks of cattle in the soft earth getting ever deeper. Several animals had come this way, and not too long ago either.<\/p>\n

The trees cleared, and ahead of him he could see the problem. Several cows had broken down the bank of the stream, and made themselves a wallow. When the water level came up the mud patch had become a death trap. Hoss counted four animals stuck in it to half way up their sides. They were so plastered in mud it was impossible to tell what colours they might once have been; they were now all mud coloured. One of them wasn\u2019t moving any more and Hoss reckoned she was already drowned.<\/p>\n

At the edge of the wallow, a young brown and white steer was standing knee deep in the muck, calling to his mother, and she was moaning back at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, now little fella,\u201d Hoss said to him, consolingly; \u201cYour mamma gone an\u2019 got herself stuck in the crick?\u201d<\/p>\n

The steer mooed mournful agreement.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019 you worry none,\u201d Hoss told him. \u201cI\u2019m gonna get her out o\u2019 there fer you real soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

For the time being he forgot all about his tooth. He backed his mount up, and stepped out of the saddle, taking his rope with him. Right now he was really pleased he had ridden this particular horse. He had trained it himself, and they worked well together.<\/p>\n

He shooed the young steer out of his way, and back, onto firmer ground, and then spun the loop of the rope lazily, letting it swing out in an arc and settle squarely over the cow\u2019s horns. She complained loudly, and shook her head in an attempt to free herself. Hoss took a hitch on the saddle horn, and walked the horse backwards. The rope tightened. The horse threw up its head as it took up the strain.<\/p>\n

\u201cC\u2019mon now,\u201d Hoss murmured to him. \u201cYou c\u2019n do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The horse pulled ~ and the cow pulled the other way. It seemed she had made up her mind to be contrary. Hoss added his not inconsiderable weight to that of the horse, and they both leaned against the rope. The young steer called to his mother, and she bellowed back. She fought against the suck of the mud, trying to lunge out of it but finding nothing solid to push against.<\/p>\n

The horse took up the slack the way he\u2019d been trained, and Hoss cheered him on. The cow sank back but not quite so deep as she\u2019d been before.<\/p>\n

Hoss gathered up his strength for another pull, and this time, the cow timed her own effort to coincide with his. She came half way out of the mud before sinking back in.<\/p>\n

Hoss wiped his sleeve across his face. He was already getting all filthied up. He took a deep breath, and called to the horse. An even, steady pressure on the rope started to draw the cow up out of the mire.<\/p>\n

The little steer lowed to its Ma, its feet again getting perilously close to the edge. The cow made another mighty effort. The black horse sat back on his haunches and pulled. The cow came loose from the bog with a fearful sucking noise and an overwhelming smell of marsh gas.<\/p>\n

Hoss cheered her on as she staggered up onto the bank, and then dropped to her knees in sheer exhaustion. Hoss sort of knew how she felt. \u201cThere\u2019s a gal!\u201d He stepped forward, and freed his rope from around her horns. \u201cYou git along now.\u201d<\/p>\n

The cow mooed, and lumbered back onto her feet, and moved off unsteadily with her youngster at her side.<\/p>\n

Hoss took a moment to blow, and wiped some of the muck of his face, and then remade the loop in his rope and turned back towards the creek. The next cow was further out and deeper in. Hoss roped her round the horns easily enough, but there was no way the horse was going to pull this one out. He turned the animal broadside on to act as an anchor, and started to strip off his clothes.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

By the time Joe drove into the small township of Sparks, Nevada, the team was nigh on exhausted. Dragging the crippled wagon had been hard work, and the temperature was soaring. Their coats were dark with sweat, and streaked with white foam. Joe drew up alongside the first person he saw on the sidewalk.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Mister! I gotta hurt man here! You gotta doctor in town?\u201d<\/p>\n

The cowboy sauntered over, faded eyes taking in the sweaty team, the rigged up sled and Joe\u2019s dishevelled clothing. \u201cNope. We ain\u2019t got no doctor.\u201d He peered into the back of the wagon; \u201cBut we got us a barber fella what fixes folks up when they wants fixin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked back at Idress. The big man had been raving and sweating all the way into town, but now he was lying ominously quiet. His leg had leaked a lot of blood through Joe\u2019s improvised bandaging.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you tell me where to find this barberin\u2019 fella?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShore kin. Down the street. Past the Post Office. On the right.\u201d The cowboy waved his arm in the general direction; \u201cYou can\u2019t miss it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m obliged.\u201d Joe touched his hat and gee\u2019d up the tired team.<\/p>\n

The barber\u2019s shop was easy enough to find. It had a glass front, and a red and white painted pole stuck up over the door. Joe jumped down and went inside.<\/p>\n

The barber, a small man with a bald, white fringed, head and bright blue eyes looked up from the man he was shaving. He looked Joe up and down, and his eyes settled on his longish locks. \u201cYou jist take a seat, young \u2018un, an\u2019 I\u2019ll be with you in two shakes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt ain\u2019t for me I\u2019m here. I hear tell you do the doctorin\u2019 \u2019round here, an\u2019 I gotta man out in the wagon hurt real bad\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat a fact?\u201d The barber tossed his customer a towel and left him to wipe his off own face. \u201clet\u2019s go take a look at him then.\u201d<\/p>\n

The barber took a long look at Paulin Idress\u2019s leg, and stated the obvious, \u201cThat there leg\u2019s one hell\u2019ve a mess, boy. This fella yore Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, he ain\u2019t my Pa. I just found him out along the road there. Wagon must\u2019ve fell on him when he was tryin\u2019 to fix the wheel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReckon there might not be much I kin do fer that leg.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, do what you can, all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

The barber scratched his fringe of hair and pursed his lips; \u201cIt\u2019ll cost you ten dollars fer the docterin\u2019,\u201d he said, after several moments thinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cTen dollars!\u201d Joe was astounded. The amount was outrageous.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the price.” The barber stuck his hands symbolically into his pockets. \u201cTake it or leave it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sighed. He guessed he really didn\u2019t have that much choice. He pulled out the money his father had given him to pay for the mare, and peeled off a ten-dollar bill. \u201cYou just patch him up good, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

The barber pocketed the money. \u201c\u2019Cause, if\u2019n that leg has ta come off it\u2019ll cost two bits more fer the whisky.\u201d He was eyeing the roll of bills in Joe\u2019s hands speculatively.<\/p>\n

Joe put the rest of the money back in his pocket. \u201cI\u2019ll come back later and see how he\u2019s doin\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust as you say, boy.\u201d the barber gestured to some of the men in the crowd that had gathered, \u201cTwo or three o\u2019 you fellas help git this man inside.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stood to the back as several men pushed forward, and Idress was carried, none too gently, through the door of the barbers shop.<\/p>\n

Joe untied his mare from the back of the wagon and took a long look round. Sparks, if the truth were told, was not really that much of a town. One wide street ran right through the centre, and the buildings lined up along it on either side. Some of them had grand false frontages, but the structures behind were not a great deal better than shanties.<\/p>\n

Joe spotted a small Mercantile that claimed, on the signboard outside, to sell everything from horseshoe nails to hat pins; a feed store with heaps of dusty sacks outside, and at the end of the street, a shed that looked to be serving time as a livery. And of course, the first building that went up in any town, a saloon!<\/p>\n

Right now, to Joe, hot, tired, dirty and thirsty, that seemed like a very good place to be. Leading the mare, he crossed over the street and tied her alongside several other animals at the rail outside.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Mista!\u201d The voice was a high pitched whine, and it had a edge to it that instantly set Joe\u2019s teeth on edge. \u201cYou gotta quarter?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe turned round. The man the voice belonged to could only be described as a tramp. His clothes, now of no particular colour, were filthy, and fraying, and showing holes. There was dirt on his face and in his long knotted hair. His eyes were rheumy, and his breath stank. In fact, all of him stank – of unwashed clothes, and unwashed flesh, and drink. He held out a hand with grime imbedded in the lines of his palm; \u201cYou gotta quarter?\u201d<\/p>\n

Right at that moment Joe\u2019s patience was running at a low ebb, and his reaction was, perhaps not as charitable as it might otherwise have been. In fact, he recoiled in disgust, his contempt clearly showing on his face. \u201cGet away from me, will ya?!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease Mista,\u201d The drunk came closer, breathing fumes of rot gut into Joe\u2019s face, \u201cJust a quarter ta buy a drink!\u201d He put his hands on Joe\u2019s chest, pawing at his clothes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI said getta way from me!\u201d Joe pushed him away rather harder than intended.<\/p>\n

The drunk staggered back, tripped over the edge of the sidewalk, and went sprawling on his butt in the road.\u00a0 He sat up in the dirt, not hurt, but furiously indignant. There was drool on his chin. \u201cI\u2019ll git ya!\u201d he yelled, \u201cI\u2019ll git ya!\u201d He spat in Joe’s direction, and shook a filthy fist. The gob landed on the toe of Joe\u2019s boot.<\/p>\n

Swallowing his fury Joe turned his back and pushed through the little crowd of amused onlookers into the dim interior of the saloon.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jenny came from being deeply asleep, to wide awake in the time it took her to lift her eyelids. She lay still for what felt like a long time, watching golden motes of dust dance in the shaft of sunlight that fell through the dining room window, wondering what had awakened her so abruptly. She felt comfortable, almost languorous, in a deep state of relaxation. Even the restless child seemed to be at peace. The only sounds in the house were the slow ticking of the clock and a low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen, lulling her. It was pleasant just to lay here, safe in this comfortable home in the midst of the family she had come to love as her own. It was all so very different from the days of her childhood on an Ohio dirt farm, with a once beautiful mother worn to a thin shadow, and a father who drank, and often beat her with his belt. Details she has glossed over and made light of in her conversations with Ben. Details she had buried so deeply in her mind, that she had thought them all but forgotten. They returned to her now with a startling sharpness. The gentle tired smile of her mother; her father\u2019s bellow, so different from Ben\u2019s; the fractured reflection of sunlight on the pond behind the house; a yellow dog, now long dead, running through long grass.<\/p>\n

A slight ache in her back made her shift uncomfortably.<\/p>\n

She thought of Ben, and a slight smile came to her lips. He was so different from anyone else she had ever known – strong, powerful and influential. A good, moral, God fearing man,\u00a0 honest, kind, and gentle with roots as deep as the land itself and a heart as big. She remembered their first inauspicious meeting, his gallantry, his persistence, his whirlwind romancing, his first introduction of his fine sons. He was so proud of them. He was so anxious that she should like them and they her. A kaleidoscope of happy images pressed in on her, dispelling the less happy ones from before.<\/p>\n

The pain in her back returned, and brought a frown to her face. She thought that if, perhaps, she got up, the ache would ease.<\/p>\n

She lowered her legs over the edge of the sofa and levered herself up. Instead of fading the pain increased and moved abruptly to the front, travelling in a wave on down through her belly. She cried out as much in surprise as anything else.<\/p>\n

She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth as the pain lingered. It was long seconds before it faded, at last, to memory. She squeezed her eyes tight shut.<\/p>\n

A door opened, and Hop Sing and Adam came through from the kitchen in a hurry.<\/p>\n

Adam dropped to one knee beside her, his face all concern. \u201cJenny? What is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

She opened her eyes and looked at him; \u201cAdam,\u201d she said, softly, \u201cI think it\u2019s time.\u201d<\/p>\n

He pulled a quick breath; \u201cAre you sure? I mean, isn\u2019t it too soon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSoon or not,\u201d she said, \u201cit\u2019s now.\u201d<\/p>\n

If Adam was in any doubt, Hop Sing wasn\u2019t; \u201cMissy Jenny need doctor real soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny struggled into a more upright position on the sofa. \u201cI think Hop Sing\u2019s right, Adam. You\u2019ll have to send one of the hands. Can you help me to lay down?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam straightened up and gave her his hand. She leaned heavily against him. His instinct was to pick her up in his arms and carry her up to the huge four poster bed that she shared with his father, but the soreness that still lingered in his own belly advised strongly against it. Instead, he put his arm round her, and very slowly, they walked together towards the downstairs bedroom.<\/p>\n

12 noon<\/p>\n

The beer was cloudy and warm, but it was serving its purpose, and already it had taken the edge off Joe\u2019s thirst. He was starting to feel a whole lot better. His thoughts were beginning to turn towards getting his horse and starting out on the final leg out to the farmstead that Kingdom Jones had made the headquarters of his expanding haulage business. From there, Joe\u2019s thoughts moved onto the quarter horse mare he was hoping to buy, and a slow smile spread to his lips. Joe was always happiest when thinking about horses – or, of course, a pretty woman.<\/p>\n

Behind him, someone cleared his throat loudly. Joe turned – and looked up. The man was long in every sense of the word. He was tall, standing head and shoulders over Joe, lanky and thin with long arms and long legs. Even his face was long featured, and when he spoke, it was with a drawn out drawl. He wore a shiny black dress coat, black pants and a loose black string tie. The hair under his black hat was grey, and long, and tied back into a bunch in the nap of his neck, and he had a tufty grey moustache on his upper lip.<\/p>\n

The two men looked each other over carefully.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want something, Mister?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

The tall man took a long slow breath; \u201cWell,\u201d he said, \u201cI guess you could say I want you, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe lowered the beer glass. \u201cMe? Why\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

The pale grey eyes went over him again, lingering on the tied down gun, low on Joe\u2019s left thigh, and then drifted off to focus somewhere way over Joe\u2019s head. \u201cWell, I guess I gotta take you over ta\u2019 the feed store an\u2019 lock you up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stared at him, bewildered; \u201cWhy would you want to do that, Mister..?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHirshall. My name\u2019s Osimire Hirshall. Now we don\u2019t have no properly elected sheriff \u2019round here, so I\u2018m sort of temporary actin\u2019 sheriff, like. \u2019N when some fella needs lockin\u2019 up then it falls to me ta\u2019 do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe put the beer glass carefully on the bar while his bemused brain tried to make sense of all this. \u201cMister Hirshall, why would you want to lock me up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOssy. All my friends call me Ossy.\u201d\u00a0 Hirshall drawled. \u201cGuess I gotta lock you up on account o\u2019 it looks like you might a\u2019 killed a man, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gapped. \u201cKilled a man?! What man?! I haven\u2019t killed anyone, Mister!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall chewed at his lower lip with large, grey teeth, \u201cSeems like you was havin\u2019 some sort o\u2019 altercation with ol\u2019 Henry Carlisle outside o\u2019 the saloon here. Lots o\u2019 folks say they seen ya.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe blinked, \u201cI don\u2019t know anybody called Henry Carlisle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTown drunk,\u201d Hirshall said bluntly. \u201cPan handles of\u2019n ever\u2019body. Guess he tried it once too often with you, eh boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

The \u2018boy\u2019 for Joe, was starting to wear a bit thin, and his temper was getting ragged. \u201cI don’t know Henry Carlisle – and what\u2019s that got to do with me killin\u2019 someone?!\u201d<\/p>\n

The grey eyes focused in again on Joe’s face; \u201c\u2018Cause Henry Carlisle is the man what\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe had all but forgotten about the filthy, ragged man that had accosted him outside the saloon.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t kill him! I didn\u2019t even know him! I only just rode into this town!\u201d<\/p>\n

The eyes gazed off into the distance again; \u201cReckon you jist rode on in an\u2019 reckon you sure didn\u2019t know ol\u2019 Henry, but you sure was seen shovin\u2019 ol\u2019 Henry around outside the saloon here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat doesn\u2019t mean I killed him!\u201d Joe was starting to get worried, and angry. \u201cI\u2019ve been here in the saloon drinkin\u2019 beer!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall turned his grey eyes on the bartender; \u201cHey Pete, this feller bin here fer the past hour?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHell, I don\u2019t know.\u201d The barkeep shrugged eloquently. \u201cI bin out the back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall chewed on his lip some more;\u00a0 \u201cWell, I guess you might just ha\u2019 stepped out there when ol\u2019 Pete here turned his back on yer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell I didn\u2019t! I\u2019ve been here for the past hour drinkin\u2019 this damned beer!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere ain\u2019t no need fer you to go shoutin\u2019 yer head off, boy.\u201d The grey eyes narrowed. \u201cNo need\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess you\u2019d better come on over t\u2019 the feed store \u2019n let me lock you up fer a while. Jist \u2019til I git this sorted out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stared at him; \u201cThe feed store?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall looked a trace uncomfortable. \u201cGuess we ain\u2019t got no proper gaol \u2018round here. Fella needs lockin\u2019 up we gotta use the back room o\u2019 the feed store.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head. \u201cI just don\u2019t believe any of this is happening.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess you better believe it, boy.\u201d Hirshall rocked back on his heels. \u201cOl\u2019 Henry Carlisle sure is dead, \u2018n\u2019 folks round here reckon you might be the one what done it. Now you gonna come, or am I gonna take you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was having a job getting his head round this, but Hirshall had a business-like black handled Colt strapped down on his leg under the dress coat, and when he fixed his steely grey eye on Joe, he looked like a man to be reckoned with. Besides, Joe\u2019s Pa had taught him to always respect the law, and here in Sparks, it looked like Osimire Hirshall was the law.<\/p>\n

He spread his hands; \u201cAll right Mister Hirshall…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOssy.\u201d The sheriff repeated. \u201cAll my friends call me Ossy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, Ossy.\u201d Joe was beginning to think this was some sort of Alice in Wonderland nightmare, \u201cI\u2019ll come over to the feed store with you, but just \u2018til we get this sorted out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all I\u2019m askin\u2019 boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name isn\u2019t \u2018boy\u2019,\u201d Joe said, with as much patience as he could muster. \u201cIt\u2019s Joe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall nodded to him; \u201cAlright, Joe Cartwright, Let\u2019s git goin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two men stepped side by side into the hot bright sunlight, and crossed over the street. There were several men loitering about watching, and three grubby boys with bright eyes threw pebbles at Joe until Hirshall turned his grey gaze on them and they ran off whooping. The interior of the feed store was cooler than the street outside, but airless, and thick with the smells of sacking and corn. Hirshall marched Joe right through the front shop, and into the storeroom at the back.<\/p>\n

To Joe\u2019s surprise, the back room of the feed store made a very effective gaol cell. There was no window, and the walls were boarded up on a sort of steel frame that made as perfect a cage as any man could want. It was dark, and stuffy, and half-filled with sacks and bags of grain, and some bits of broken old harness in the back corner.<\/p>\n

Joe looked round, and then turned to Hirshall; \u201cSay Ossy, how did this Henry Carlisle fella die?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean you don\u2019t know?\u201d Hirshall chewed on his lip. \u201cFigure if you killed him you ought t\u2019 know already how he died.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you already, I didn\u2019t kill him!\u201d Joe was exasperated.\u00a0 \u201cNow tell me how he died, will ya?!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess I can.\u201d Hirshall eyed the younger man thoughtfully. \u201cSomeone done cracked the front of ol\u2019 Henry\u2019s head in with a rock. Over in the alleyway alongside the saloon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWith a rock?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall nodded; \u201cIt sure was a rock.\u201d He turned to the door, then had a further thought and turned back. \u201cGuess you\u2019d better empty out your pockets \u2018n\u2019 hand over that gun o\u2019 yours, Joe Cartwright. Jist while you\u2019re locked up in here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sighed and un-strapped the gun, and turned out his pockets onto a barrelhead.<\/p>\n

Hirshall picked out the roll of banknotes. \u201cThis is an awful lot of money to be carryin\u2019 in your pants pocket, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sighed; \u201cIt\u2019s my Pa\u2019s money. He sent me ta buy a horse from Kingdom Jones.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGuess this\u2019d buy one hell\u2019ve a horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what my Pa sent me for,\u201d Joe said miserably. He sat down on a sack.<\/p>\n

\u201cHm.\u201d Hirshall scooped Joe\u2019s belongings into his hat, and picked up the gun belt. \u201cI\u2019ll jist look after this all fer you. You all take it easy, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

The door closed, leaving Joe in total darkness, and he heard the heavy key turn in the lock.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The gun was now an unaccustomed weight on Adam\u2019s hip as he walked back across the sun baked yard. He was considering his options. Jenny had asked him to send a hand into town for the doctor. She didn\u2019t know or had forgotten that he and Hop Sing were alone at the house. All the hands had gone stock gathering and they had taken most of the saddle horses with them. Adam\u2019s own gelding and Jenny\u2019s had been turned out to pasture while their owners were unable to ride. He considered briefly saddling up one of the buckboard team and dismissed the idea at once as impractical. They were slow and unused to being ridden. He might not be able to get the doctor back in time. There were a dozen or so mustangs in one of the corrals but they were unbroken, and Adam didn\u2019t feel himself quite up to bronco busting today. Then there were two sick horses in the larger barn where the hands generally kept their mounts. One had a badly cut foot, and the other had been pulled over by a steer on the end of a rope and had twisted its back.<\/p>\n

That left Mozart.<\/p>\n

Adam sighed. Mozart was about the onoriest creature that had ever set hoof, foot or paw on the Ponderosa. He was a tall, solidly built bright bay stallion with about the meanest temper any of the Cartwrights had ever encountered in a horse. Debate had raged furiously back and forth through the family about whether to geld him or keep him whole. Ben thought the knife would cure his manners and make a useful work animal of him. Joe maintained he could be useful as a stallion, introducing spirit and fire into the bloodline. Hoss reckoned it would destroy the animal\u2019s noble character and make nothing but a plough horse out of him. And Adam – well right this minute Adam would have fetched a knife and willingly done the job himself if he hadn\u2019t needed the horse to ride right there and then.<\/p>\n

He collected a bridle from the barn, and hitched a saddle up onto his shoulder. The newly healed wound in his belly pulled sharply, reminding him that he shouldn\u2019t really be doing any of this. He stood for a moment, head down, breathing shallowly while he waited for the pain to subside. Then he hitched the saddle higher, and went out to the corral.<\/p>\n

Nominally, Mozart had been broken in and was already a saddle horse. The trouble was, Mozart didn\u2019t know it yet. He stood at the far side of the corral, head up and ears well forward, and watched Adam coming. He had a bright intelligent eye, and he knew well what the man had in mind before he ever reached the rail. As usual, he had no intention whatsoever of co-operating.<\/p>\n

Adam carefully closed, and fastened, the gate behind him. He had no intention of letting the horse make a quick escape, as he had been known to do in the past. He dumped the saddle on the ground and advanced with the bridle. Mozart watched him come, head held high. Adam sighed again. He could read the horse\u2019s body language.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, boy,\u201d he said softly. \u201cLet\u2019s not play this game today. Let\u2019s be nice, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mozart snorted softly, nostrils quivering. He waited quietly until the man was in fingertip touching distance of him, and then he moved in an explosive burst of power that shifted three quarters of a ton of horse flesh from one side of the corral to the other in two and a half seconds flat.<\/p>\n

Adam used a short sharp word that his father didn\u2019t know that he knew. The horse stood still again and shook his head, defying him with the flying mane. Adam re-crossed the corral, aiming for the horse\u2019s front end in an attempt to forestall a repeat performance. Mozart was wise to that. He waited again until Adam was almost within touching distance of his head and then backed up abruptly, spun around in his own length and shot off again.<\/p>\n

Five passes and a whole bucket of sweat later, Adam trapped the horse in a corner of the corral. Mozart hopped up on all four feet and threw his head up, making it damned difficult for Adam to reach him. For a moment Adam thought he was going to refuse the bit, but he managed to get it in between the tombstone teeth without getting bitten and, after a struggle, got the straps done up round the horse\u2019s head. By now both man and horse were sweating hard in the mid-day sun.<\/p>\n

Mozart shook his head savagely, trying to free himself of the bridle, and then submitted with an ill grace to being led across to the dumped saddle. Adam took the precaution of tying the reins to the rail before lifting the saddle onto the horse\u2019s back.<\/p>\n

Mozart saw the saddle coming. He arched up his back and blew out his gut. It was an old trick and one that Adam knew well. He brought his knee up hard into the horse\u2019s under belly. The horse exhaled with a grunt, and Adam tightened the cinch before he could draw another breath.<\/p>\n

The first battle was over. Adam leaned against the saddle and caught his breath. It had taken more out of him than it had the horse; he was afraid he might yet lose the war.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss had stripped all the way down to his drawers and waded out into the thick mud until he could get around behind the cow. She was embedded in the mud right up to the points of her shoulders, and she was exhausted from her struggles to free herself. Hoss thought that she was just about ready to lie down and die. The only thing keeping her head up was the constant pressure the black horse, obedient to its training, was keeping on the rope.<\/p>\n

Hoss came right up behind the cow, and got his shoulder wedged in under her rump. The fact that, in her terror, she had defecated into the mud, didn\u2019t make the task any more pleasant. Hoss called out encouragement to the horse. The horse pulled. Hoss pushed. The cow bellowed.<\/p>\n

Nothing else much happened.<\/p>\n

Hoss paused to catch his breath and consider his position. He would have liked to wipe the muck away from his face, but his hands were thick with the stuff and would have only made matters worse. Instead, he spat out what had got into his mouth.<\/p>\n

He reckoned there wasn\u2019t much else for it. Much as he hated doing it, he had to be cruel to be kind. He took a firm grip of the cow\u2019s tail and gave it a good hard twist against the grain.<\/p>\n

The cow suddenly found a whole lot of get-up-and-go right where there hadn\u2019t been any before. She lunged up and out, taking the tension off the rope so fast that the horse standing braced on the bank stumbled and nearly went down.<\/p>\n

Hoss was left behind, floundering in the mud. He spat more of the filth out of his mouth and tried to clear it away from his eyes.<\/p>\n

He looked across at the other animal that had been struggling, but the steer had laid its head down in the mud and died. Hoss felt a deep pang of regret. Near exhausted as he was, he would have tried his damnedest to get the beast out.<\/p>\n

From way back in the trees, the varmint watched with interested detachment. It smelled life in the air ~ and death ~ and life that should have become death. It had watched the man creature thwart the inevitable. Now it watched him emerge, dripping mud from the bog and marvelled, in its strange way, at its determination to change the one into the other.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Adam opened the gate and led Mozart out. The stallion followed docilely enough, but Adam wasn\u2019t about to be deceived. He wouldn\u2019t be the first man this horse had made a fool out of. He\u2019d known it before, and, even while he\u2019d been ill, his brothers had told him all about the animal\u2019s exploits.<\/p>\n

He stepped up on the bottom rail of the corral, and reached for the stirrup.<\/p>\n

Mozart stiffened. Adam felt the horse bracing himself, and he knew he was in for a rough ride. He put his foot in the stirrup and started to step across. Mozart put his head down, making himself an awkward shape to mount. Adam shortened the reins and the horse pulled back, fighting the bit.<\/p>\n

Adam put his free leg over, transferring his weight into the saddle. Mozart didn\u2019t give him time to find the stirrup on the other side. He buck-jumped from a standing start, humping up his back and coming down again on all four feet at once. Adam left the saddle by a good twelve inches and landed back in it again, hard. The impact drove the breath right out of him, and something in his belly jabbed at him like a knife. He remembered what the doctor had told him only yesterday about taking things real easy and hoped to heaven that his wound wasn\u2019t going to bust wide open again. That was all he had time to hope for, because Mozart was just plain determined to get rid of him. The horse threw up his head in an attempt to head butt his unwanted rider in the face. Adam narrowly missed a broken nose but got a face and a mouth full of stringy black mane.<\/p>\n

Then Mozart thought it might be a real good idea to sit right down and let Adam simply slide off backwards, but by now Adam had found the loose stirrup and was able to cling on with his knees.<\/p>\n

Mozart shook himself like a wet dog, and all Adam could do was hang on to the saddle horn and try to stay put on his back. The horse reached round, extending neck and teeth in an effort to take a big chunk out of Adam\u2019s leg. Adam had taken just about as much of this horse\u2019s foul temper and bad manners as he was going to take. It was not a thing he would normally have done, but when circumstances dictate…<\/p>\n

It was a trick an old horse breaker had taught him a long time ago, and something his father would not have approved of.<\/p>\n

Adam balled up his fist and punched Mozart squarely on the nose.<\/p>\n

The horse nearly fell over in surprise.<\/p>\n

Adam took advantage of the moment to get the animal\u2019s head facing front again and got the reins real short in his hands, bringing Mozart\u2019s chin down onto his chest. Mozart shook his head and pranced about, but Adam had him now. He got the horse pointing in more or less the right direction, let the reins out just a fraction and brought his heels hard in to the animal\u2019s flanks.<\/p>\n

Mozart set off from a standing start to a full-blown gallop in a single stride with Adam clinging on to the saddle on his back as much as riding him, but at least they were going in the right direction. The rough pounding of the horse\u2019s gait felt like hammer blows to his tender belly.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Lunch in a grand style was in order, Ben decided, so accordingly he set his sights on a place that called itself, pretentiously, \u2018The Windsor Castle Hotel\u2019<\/p>\n

The building stood all of four stories tall behind a white painted, colonnaded frontage. It had wide steps leading up from the street to double glass doors and a doorman in green liveried uniform to hold the doors open. Once beyond the doors, Ben just stood and stared. The inside had been all decked out in old colonial style<\/p>\n

The ceilings were easily as high as those of the Palace Hotel in New Orleans, or the International in San Francisco. Elaborate chandeliers of crystal and bright mirrors depended from gilded chains. There was a vast expanse of marble slabbed flooring, all green and cream swirls, and lots of polished wood with carved curlicues. A staircase of heroic proportions swept upwards on carpeted treads from what Ben could not help but think of as the lobby, doubtless to equally grand guest rooms above.<\/p>\n

Ben finally had to shift when someone wanted to come through the doors behind him. He realized he\u2019d been gaping, and to cover his embarrassment, walked quickly to the wide curving reception desk. The reception clerk, tall, balding, dark suited, moved smoothly over. \u201cHow can I help you, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben dumped his armful of parcels on the counter, fully, and somewhat painfully, aware of the expression of disdain on the man\u2019s face. \u201cI\u2019m dining here today,\u201d he said in his most authoritative tone. \u201cWould you look after these for me until I\u2019m ready to leave?\u201d<\/p>\n

The clerk looked from Ben to the parcels, as if debating momentarily with himself quite what he should do with the motley little collection of brown paper packages. Training won out. \u201cCertainly, sir,\u201d he said scooping them out of sight under the counter. \u201cThe dining room, sir, is that way.\u201d he indicated the direction with a discrete point of the finger.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen Cartwright!\u201d The voice boomed from somewhere behind Ben\u2019s right shoulder.<\/p>\n

Ben turned. For the briefest moment he was confused, and then recognition dawned on him. The big man holding out a hand to him was his old friend, Tobias Addington.<\/p>\n

\u201cToby!\u201d The two men clasped hands long and hard, and looked each other over.<\/p>\n

Addington came barely up to Ben\u2019s shoulder, and he was as big around as he was tall. Like Ben, he had aged gracefully. His cap of curly hair had turned in the years, from black to pure white, and there were more lines in the round, eternally cheerful face than Ben remembered, but the vivid blue eyes that smiled out of it were the same.<\/p>\n

Tobias Addington and Ben Cartwright had been friends, and sometime business partners, from the time they had both left their seafaring days behind them, but their life paths had diverged, and time and miles had come between. Now, the years fell away, and, for a moment as they gazed at one another, it was if they were both young men again, just setting out on the long road.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen Cartwright, as I live and breath!\u201d Addington said, through his smile. \u201cWhat\u2019re you doing here, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBusiness, Toby. Business.\u201d Ben laughed \u201cAnd you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I\u2019m retired now. Resting on my laurels, you know? You here to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow that\u2019s the best idea I\u2019ve heard today!\u201d<\/p>\n

The two men walked together towards the dining room. \u201cAre you still running that whopping great ranch out west o\u2019 here, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt gets bigger every time I go out an\u2019 look at it. And did you ever marry that English girl you were courtin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI sure did. Twelve years we were wed. She died…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry to hear that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your family? Three boys you had, last count, wasn\u2019t it?\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSoon to be four,\u201d Ben said with a smile. \u201cI got married again, just last year…\u201d<\/p>\n

1:00 pm<\/p>\n

The turning of the heavy key in the lock woke Joe up with a start. The hot dusty atmosphere of the dark storeroom had produced a somnolence that proved irresistible to the young Cartwright despite his problems. The feed sacks had made a comfortable mattress, and he had slept.<\/p>\n

The door opened, just a crack, spilling light into the gloom, and then a bit further as someone carrying something edged carefully round it. Joe sat up, blinking owlishly against the brightness. Whoever it might be, it certainly wasn\u2019t Ossy Hirshall that stood in the open doorway – in fact, the body outlined against the light was a woman\u2019s, and a very shapely woman\u2019s at that. Sure enough, the voice that called out to him was female.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright? Are you there, Joe Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

Reacting instinctively, Joe ran his fingers through his curls. \u201cI\u2019m here, ma\u2019am. I don\u2019t seem to have a whole lot of choice in the matter.\u201d<\/p>\n

He peered against the light. Now that his eyes were adjusting, he could see that she was a very young lady, perhaps just a year or so younger than himself, and pretty with it. She had a mop of short fair curls, turned into a halo of gold by the light from behind her. It framed a little heart shaped face with big eyes, a pert nose and a neat, bow shaped mouth.<\/p>\n

She came a little further into the room, and he could see that she was carrying a covered tray in her hands. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to call me ma\u2019am,\u201d she said. \u201cMy name\u2019s Maryanne. Ossy Hirshall called by my Ma\u2019s house and said to bring you over somethin\u2019 to eat. I brung you meat pie and \u2018taters. D\u2019you like meat pie and \u2018taters, Joe Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

She had a light lilting voice, and now that she was closer, he noticed that she wore a pleasantly light perfume. \u201cI like it real fine, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

She put the tray down and as he sat to eat she settled\u00a0 beside him. \u201cI said my name\u2019s Maryanne.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe forked pie into his mouth, hungrier than he thought, but the girl\u2019s presence was a distraction and his jaws moved more and more slowly as he felt her eyes dwelling on him. They stopped altogether when she put her hand on his knee. He swallowed the food half-chewed and looked at her. She smiled at him sideways. Her eyes were huge and soft in the dim light of the storeroom. \u201cYou sure are a pretty man, Joe Cartwright,\u201d She murmured. Her fingertips started to trace little circles on his knee.<\/p>\n

Joe was man enough to know an invitation when it was aimed right at his head. His hormones were never slow to rise, and even in present circumstances – well, a pretty girl was a pretty girl. He set the tray aside, and let his hand slide loosely round her back. She snuggled up into the circle of his arm, and he breathed deeply of the perfume in her hair.<\/p>\n

Her fingertips started to move higher up the inside of his thigh.<\/p>\n

All of a sudden, Joe Cartwright was very interested in Maryanne.<\/p>\n

He brushed his lips through the fringe of her hair and then, as she raised her face, touched her lips very gently with his own. His free hand came round, feeling for the softness of her breast, drawing her closer.<\/p>\n

She leaned into him, her own hands exploring his back, his chest and for a brief moment, lower.<\/p>\n

Then she put both her small hands against his chest and pushed him away, but only a little. \u201cNot here,\u201d she whispered. \u201cNot in the dirty ol\u2019 feed store.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere then?\u201d he asked huskily, his hands dancing feather light patterns on her back and the sides of her body. He was anxious and didn\u2019t want to wait.<\/p>\n

Her breathing had become short, and she ran her fingers through his thick hair. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, teasing him briefly with her tongue. \u201cWhen Ossy Hirshall lets you out o\u2019 here, you call by an\u2019 see me, you hear? You can\u2019t miss my Ma\u2019s place. It\u2019s right at the end of town, with all the pretty little pots of flowers right outside.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe grinned at her from just an inch away. \u201cYou\u2019re awful sure he\u2019s going to let me out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n

She put a pointed little finger against his lips. \u201cI know my men. You didn\u2019t kill ol\u2019 Henry Carlisle.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I didn\u2019t.\u201d Joe kissed her again, slowly and gently, and then again more fiercely as his lips hardened with desire. For a few brief seconds she answered his increasing passion with her own. Then she drew away again.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot here,\u201d she repeated. \u201cCome on by, later, Joe Cartwright.\u201d She touched his lips again, briefly, with hers, and the kiss was a promise.<\/p>\n

Then she was gone, sliding out of the door, closing and locking it behind her, leaving him breathless and alone in the darkness.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The black horse stood ground tied a short way from the banks of Possum Creek. Hoss had draped his gun belt, shirt and pants over the saddle horn, and gone to wash off the mud. Now he was up to his chest in the creek scrubbing at himself, firstly to keep warm because the run off water was icy cold, and second, to remove the thick clinging mud from the hair that lightly clothed his big body. He wondered how his elder brother would have managed in similar circumstances. That thought brought a smile to his face. Brother Adam had a whole lot more hair on him than Hoss did.<\/p>\n

The pain in his face had subsided, just a bit. But now there was a big lump coming up on his jawbone, right under the tooth that was doing all the hurting. A lump that was just too painful to touch. Hoss worried about that. He was sure that the swelling would be visible from the outside of his face, and that first thing tomorrow his Pa would march him, big as he was, right into Virginia City to visit that tooth doctor. Hoss just could no resign himself to that prospect.<\/p>\n

Once his body was clean, Hoss set to washing the mud out of his drawers. The stains were such that not even Hope Sing\u2019s cousin\u2019s laundry was ever going to get them out. He sighed, and scrubbed harder.<\/p>\n

The varmint lay in the long grass beneath the willow trees. It had watched with interest as the man thing had climbed naked into the water and rubbed at its pale body with its hands until it started to go pink all over, from the cold. Now the cat-like creature was bored with all the splashing. It sniffed at the air but it could no longer catch the man thing\u2019s scent.<\/p>\n

But it could smell horse.<\/p>\n

The varmint stirred, black whiskers fanning out around its mouth. Slowly, very, very slowly it started to stalk.<\/p>\n

The horse lifted its head and flicked its ears back and then forward again. Its nostrils quivered as it scented the wind.<\/p>\n

The varmint froze, one huge paw lifted and poised above the ground.<\/p>\n

The horse whickered softly.<\/p>\n

Hoss started to wade out of the creek. He had washed about as much of the muck out of his under garment as he could, and it was just going to have to do. He paused in the shallows to wring the garment half-dry.<\/p>\n

The horse caught the faintest whiff of varmint in the air. It started to dance, and rolled its eyes until the whites showed all around the edges of its eyeballs.<\/p>\n

Hoss looked up in sudden alarm; \u201cHey boy! What is it now? You just settle down eh?\u201d He started for the horse, reaching out a hand to snatch the trailing reins. The horse backed away. Hoss made a grab and missed. The horse kicked up his heels, turned tail and ran.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad-burn-it!\u201d Hoss hurled a furious expletive after it, but the animal just kept on going, taking most of Hoss\u2019s clothes and the saddlebag with the precious whisky bottle along with him. Hoss was left standing naked and furious on the bank of the creek.<\/p>\n

When he\u2019d finished cursing, Hoss pulled on his socks and boots and the wet drawers and, feeling more than a little ridiculous, set off in the wake of the horse.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jenny Cartwright lay between cool sheets in the strange bed, and gazed up at the ceiling. Hop Sing had fetched her a nightdress, and she had managed to change into it, and to get herself into the bed, but now she felt strange, disorientated, as if she were half floating.<\/p>\n

Chattering away to himself ~ and to her ~ in his own tongue, the little Chinaman had brought a covered jug of cool water, flavoured with lemon, and from time to time she sipped at a glass of it. She could hear him now, moving about in the dining room just beyond the bedroom door, and then further away, in the kitchen. His presence was something of a comfort, one firm link with reality.<\/p>\n

Adam had not returned. She had asked him to send one of the hands for the doctor an indeterminate length of time ago. She worried vaguely. She would have liked the dependable strength of her husband\u2019s eldest son close at hand. Then she remembered that Adam himself was still not a fit man. Her husband\u2019s words of that very morning came back to her; \u201cAdam\u2019s not as strong as he thinks he is,\u201d and she wondered again where he had got to. If anything had happened to him…<\/p>\n

She moved her head restlessly against the pillow.<\/p>\n

Infinitesimally, a puddle of sunlight from the window crept across the floor. The house fell silent. The pains were gradually building in strength, moving through her from back to front, and down over her abdomen. She consoled herself that they were still a long way apart, and in between them she was comfortable enough to doze.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

With a superb dinner of roast duck, potatoes and green beans tucked safely away under their belts, Ben and Toby stood on the steps of the Windsor Castle Hotel, and shook hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, Ben,\u201d Toby Addington said with a smile. \u201cYou be sure and carry my best wishes back to that little wife of yours and say hello to the boys for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will. To all of them.\u201d<\/p>\n

They laughed together, and Toby shook his head, amused at Ben\u2019s mule headed conviction.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow you remember what you promised,\u201d Ben told him, \u201cFirst chance you get, you come out to the Ponderosa and visit. Jenny and the boys will be delighted!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be glad to do that, Ben. Glad to do it!\u201d<\/p>\n

The two men parted, and Ben watched his friend walk away into the crowd.<\/p>\n

Ben set his hat solidly on his head, and turned his footsteps in the other direction, crossing over the street and walking on the left hand side towards the centre of town.<\/p>\n

The activity in the streets of the city was frenetic, and the heat and the dust almost overpowering.<\/p>\n

At one time, when he had been a young man, his trips to sea had often been interspersed with shore leave in some of the larger coastal cities. The rush and tumble, the noise and colour, the general awareness of time passing at a frantic pace, had held a fascination. Boston had been his home-port for many years before his decision to move west, and he had relished time spent in New York, Chicago, Denver, New Orleans and, to a lesser extent, San Francisco. This time, it was all rather too much for him. The high rise buildings leaned in on him, and the impersonal press of all the people crowded in on his personal space. After just a few hours he was already missing the open skies and the tranquillity of the mountains.<\/p>\n

In truth, his encounter with Toby Addington had disquieted him. Meeting his old friend again after so many years, had been a pleasure. Already he was looking forward with enthusiasm to the promised visit; to introducing Toby to Jenny, and to the boys. Adam, and maybe Hoss, would remember him. Ben would enjoy showing him the ranch and swapping yarns of the old days back and forth of an evening across a log fire. But Addington had embraced a different style of life entirely. He had retired from business, and was taking things easy. He had expounded at length on the pleasures of travelling and seeing the sights of Europe and beyond ~ of riding in grand carriages and of staying in all the best hotels. Ben reflected that his own life, in comparison, was spent mostly on the back of a horse. If he wasn\u2019t out in the rain or digging recalcitrant and ungrateful steers out of snowdrifts, he was stuck behind that blasted desk piled high with paperwork.\u00a0 Perhaps it was about time to turn things over to the boys and start enjoying life with his new family.<\/p>\n

Even as the thought formed in his mind he felt depression settling over him like a musty shroud. He knew, deep down in his soul, that he would hate watching the ranch go on without his guiding hand, or worse still, being split up if his sons couldn\u2019t see eye to eye. It was something he was going to have to discuss with Jenny.<\/p>\n

Up ahead of him, there was some sort of commotion on the sidewalk. Lost in his own thoughts, Ben had almost walked right into it. A woman\u2019s voice raised above the general clamour, \u201cStop thief! Stop thief!\u201d<\/p>\n

A slight figure shot out of a little knot of people and headed in Ben\u2019s direction. The boy was dodging and ducking this way and that to avoid the hands that sought to grasp him. He was barely adolescent and wore rough, homespun clothes and a round, hard top hat exactly the same as Adam had sported as a boy. In his hand, he was clutching a woman\u2019s green purse.<\/p>\n

Ben planted himself firmly, and the boy ran smack into him, bouncing back off the rancher\u2019s solid frame. Ben grabbed him firmly by the upper arms, and held on tight.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me go! Let me go!\u201d The boy yelled and kicked at Ben\u2019s legs.<\/p>\n

He put up one hell of a fight for one his size, all the time shouting profanities Ben would have expected to hear on a dockside, or in a trail camp. He wriggled like an eel, and he kicked, and he tried to bite Ben\u2019s hand, but he held on to the woman\u2019s purse through it all.<\/p>\n

\u201cEasy, boy. Easy.\u201d Ben could see that he was a fair haired little tyke, with a thin, freckled face, now stained with tears of frustration He was all gangly arms and legs as Ben recalled all boys were at that of age.<\/p>\n

Ben held on tight to him until his strength started to run out. Around them a little crowd had started to form. A woman pushed her way to the front. She wore a green dress that exactly matched the colour of the purse. A leaf-trimmed bonnet framed a sharp, middle aged face.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the thief!\u201d She pointed, accusing. \u201c See? He still has my purse!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded to her, unable to touch his hat because he still had hold of the boy. \u201cMa\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s this then?\u201d The law, in the form of a short broad Irishman in a dark suit, with shiny buttons and a flat blue cap like the policemen wore back east, had arrived on the scene.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat boy snatched my purse!\u201d The woman said shrilly. \u201cHe still has it!\u201d<\/p>\n

The lawman looked over Ben and the boy who, exhausted and, realising his position was hopeless, finally stopped struggling.<\/p>\n

Feeling the fight going out of him, Ben gradually loosened his grip on the boy\u2019s arms. The boy slumped and stood looking at the boardwalk under his feet. Ben took the purse away from him and handed it back to the woman; \u201cYours, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, thank you.\u201d She took it with an ill grace and rummaged inside.<\/p>\n

\u201cAn\u2019 I\u2019ll take charge o\u2019 this young man, thank you, sir.\u201d The policeman took the boy firmly by the ear. \u201cAn\u2019 thank you fer doing your civic duty.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOfficer.\u201d Ben nodded. The incident was over, but somehow, Ben was reluctant to turn his back and walk away. \u201cWhat happens now?\u201d<\/p>\n

The policeman, in the act of turning away, looked surprised. \u201cThe boy goes up in front o\u2019 the judge, an\u2019 then he goes to gaol,\u201d he said in broad brogue. \u201c That\u2019s the way o\u2019 it.\u201d He turned again, pulling the boy along with him.<\/p>\n

Ben fidgeted. He didn\u2019t know this boy or anything about him, but there was something somehow familiar. \u201cJust a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n

The policeman looked back again, this time there was a scowl on his wide features.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs the lady pressing charges?\u201d Ben asked. He looked across at the woman; \u201cDid you loose anything, ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, no.\u201d The woman looked flustered.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want to see this child go to gaol?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t no child!\u201d The boy whined. The policeman pinched his ear harder, and he squirmed.<\/p>\n

The woman\u2019s eyes switched from Ben to the boy; \u201cI guess not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat don\u2019t make no never mind,\u201d The policeman growled. \u201cThis boy was caught thievin\u2019, an\u2019 it ain\u2019t the first time. I know this one. He\u2019s a comin\u2019 down ta the precinct house with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben made a swift decision. \u201cCan I come with you? I\u2019d like to speak up for the boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

The policeman cast his eye over Ben again, taking in the prosperous proportions, the smart suit and the business like strapped down gun half concealed under the jacket. Privately, he thought that the big man had taken leave of his sanity. \u201cI guess you can if you\u2019ve a mind to,\u201d he said heavily. \u201cIf you\u2019ve got the time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben thought of his meeting, and realized he was going to be very late. \u201cI\u2019ve got the time.\u201d<\/p>\n

The precinct house was a good half-mile away through the busy city streets. It was a blank faced, board-fronted building with small windows, and steep steps up to the doors. The policeman had led the boy there, by the ear, every step of the way.<\/p>\n

Inside there was a large impersonal room with a floor of drab brown tile and dark wooden panelling. Several tall doors led to the deeper mysteries of the building, and long hard benches stood against the walls between them. There was a broad, solid looking desk behind which presided a broad, solid looking Sergeant of police. He too was an Irishman.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis boy\u2019s bin here a\u2019fore, Mister Cartwright,\u201d he said in a resigned tone. \u201cOn any number o\u2019 different occasions. We\u2019ve warned him \u2018til we\u2019re blue in the face with warnin\u2019 him. There\u2019s no help for it. This time he goes up in front o\u2019 the judge for sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

He started to write in the huge book, open on the desk in front of him.<\/p>\n

Ben looked at the boy\u2019s sulky, recalcitrant face. \u201cDon\u2019t you think you should get his Pa in here first?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe ain\u2019t got no Pa.\u201d The Sergeant continued to write.<\/p>\n

Ben hesitated for a single second, wondering exactly what he was getting himself into. \u201cHow would it be if I stood in place of his Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Sergeant looked up from his writing; \u201cWhy would you want to do that, Mister Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

The answer presented itself instantly to the forefront of Ben\u2019s mind. Any one of a hundred different disasters down the years could have cost him his own life, and what would have become then of his own sons without his hand to guide them. Might one of them have started down the outlaw path? He hesitated to think so, but there were times, even now, when Joe ran a little wild. \u201cI have sons of my own,\u201d he said simply.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d The Sergeant, a vastly experienced man, heard more than Ben told him. He sighed and put down his pen. \u201cAre you quite sure you know what you\u2019re doin\u2019 of, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not at all sure,\u201d Ben said with a wry grin. \u201c But I know that I have to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Outside the precinct house Ben bent down to look into the boy\u2019s face. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name, boy?\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy pouted and then heaved a mighty sigh. In a small voice that Ben could barely hear, he whispered, \u201cJoe. Joe Drury.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s own breath caught as a thousand images flashed through his mind ~ Joe as a baby in his mother\u2019s arms, Joe laughing, at play with his brothers, Joe grave with tears on his cheeks, Joe in pain. A thousand images of his own Joe. He put a hand on the boy\u2019s shoulder; \u201cLittle Joe\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t so little!\u201d The boy\u2019s head came up, his startling hazel eyes flecked with green and with gold, were diamond bright, diamond hard.<\/p>\n

Ben straightened up, steadying himself. \u201cNo. You\u2019re not.\u201d He started over. \u201cJoe, you heard what the desk Sergeant had to say. You have one more chance. Your last chance.\u201d That was not all the desk Sergeant had said. Ben\u2019s own ears were still ringing from the dressing down, and the boy\u2019s face, Joe\u2019s face, was scarlet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard him.\u201d Joe sounded petulant.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what are you going to do about it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMe?\u201d The hazel eyes met his in surprise. \u201cWhat d\u2019ya mean, what am I goin\u2019 to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben countered the question with a question; \u201cWhat do you expect anyone else to do? You\u2019re a man now, Joe, almost full grown. A man has to be strong enough to make his own choices. Is this the choice you\u2019re going to make?\u201d\u00a0 He encompassed with a graphic gesture the blank faced fa\u00e7ade of the police station and the full weight of what it represented. \u201cYou set yourself up against the law, boy, and you\u2019re not going to win.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked even closer to tears than he had before the desk Sergeant. He didn\u2019t have any idea who this big man with the fierce, dark, eyes and the gruff homespun manner might be. He did have enough sense to realise that he\u2019d run out of rope and that this was a straw at which he might clutch. His eyes were brimming. \u201cI don\u2019t want ta go ta gaol, Mister. What am I gonna do?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben considered him carefully, another young man thrust suddenly into his care. \u201cHave you thought about getting yourself a job? Earning an honest living?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe recoiled with a sudden, sneering laugh: \u201cA job? Who in hell\u2019s gonna give me a job!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor a start, you can stop cussing,\u201d Ben said, starting as he meant to go on. \u201cCan you read and write?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe shook his head, looking at his boots again. \u201cI can\u2019t do none o\u2019 them fancy things.\u201d Then, defensively; \u201cMy Ma would a\u2019 taught me, only she don\u2019t know how neither.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you handle horses, or cattle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI ain\u2019t never bin on no horse,\u201d Joe sighed. \u201cAn\u2019 I don\u2019t think I never seed no cow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben reflected that he couldn\u2019t expect it to be that easy. \u201cYou\u2019re going to have to let me think on this a while, Joe,\u201d he said slowly, \u201cBut first of all, you\u2019re going to have to do something that won\u2019t be easy. If you want me to help you, you have to make the first move.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked very doubtful; \u201cWhat am I gonna have ta do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d Ben pushed his hat back and tucked his thumbs into his belt; \u201cfirst off, you\u2019re going to have to go home and tell your Ma what\u2019s happened here today.\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy gaped at him; \u201cI can\u2019t tell my Ma. It\u2019d fair kill her if I told her what I done.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to start a new life with a clean sheet. And that starts with tellin\u2019 your Ma.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll beat the hell out o\u2019 me, Mister!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCartwright. My name\u2019s Ben Cartwright. You can tell your Ma that I\u2019d like to talk to her, real soon.\u201d There wasn\u2019t any other comfort Ben could offer the boy. He figured that any punishment the boy\u2019s Ma dished out was probably well deserved, and would serve to clear the decks.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Adam took a long, hard pull on Mozart’s mouth and managed to haul him to a halt at the top of the hill. The horse was all lathered up and his sides were heaving. He needed a good blow, and, if he were honest, so did Adam. Mozart was anything but an easy ride. He had fought for his head every foot of the way, and he had an awkward high stepping action that rattled Adams teeth. Every so often he would throw in a little buck jump designed specifically to unseat the unwary. He hadn\u2019t caught Adam out yet, but Adam knew if he once landed on his butt, that would be the last he saw of the horse for a very long time.<\/p>\n

Adam was as tired as he could ever remember being. He was soaked in sweat, and he ached, and there was a cauldron of fire in his belly where newly healed scar tissue had been pulled and jarred beyond endurance.<\/p>\n

There were miles behind him and more miles still to cover, before he reached the nominal boundary of his father\u2019s land. Then there was still a goodly trip into Virginia City. The road ran straight from where he sat, down the hill and across open pasture land before curving away into a stand of broad-leafs, already touched with the first gold and brown of autumn. Normally, Adam would have appreciated the wild beauty of the country and the majesty of the hills beyond as they climbing towards the pine clad slopes of the mountains. And he would have experienced a certain pride of possession for all the land that he could see was Cartwright land.<\/p>\n

Today, however, he was too weary, in too much pain, and too anxious to complete his errand, to see more than the miles of riding still ahead of him, or to think about more than what it was going to cost him in suffering.<\/p>\n

Mozart shook his head with impatience and started to jig and dance about in the road. Adam gave him just a few inches of rein and a nudge with his heels. Mozart snatched the bit and took off with a flying leap down the trail. Adam grabbed on to the saddle horn in desperation, just to make sure he stayed on top.<\/p>\n

2:00 pm<\/p>\n

The first thing Hoss came across was his hat lying in the long grass. It looked as if the running horse had somehow managed to step on it. It was well flattened and had a large, ragged tear in the tall crown. Hoss grumbled, punched it back into shape as best he could and jammed it down hard onto his head. Any protection from the sun was better than none at all. It was, he thought, danged fortunate that the heat of the summer was past. He could have been in real trouble, stuck all the way out here in nothing but his drawers and his hat. As it was, he could already feel his pale skin starting to scorch in the sun.<\/p>\n

The black gelding had finally run himself to a standstill and was standing, somewhat contritely, in the shade of a stand of chestnut trees. He let Hoss walk right up to him and nuzzled at his hand. Hoss found it impossible to stay mad at him. He stroked the animal\u2019s soft nose. \u201cIt ain\u2019t no use you doin\u2019 that. I ain\u2019t got no more sweetenin\u2019s\u201d<\/p>\n

The horse snuffled, disappointed.<\/p>\n

Hoss was delighted to find his shirt and pants still hooked over the saddle horn and wasted no time at all getting himself back inside them. As he buckled the gun belt back around his waist, feeling fully dressed again at last he suddenly stopped and sniffed at the air. A cool breeze had started to blow downhill from the mountains, and it carried with it the smell of rain. Hoss squinted up at the sky, and sure enough there were clouds boiling up all over where it mattered.<\/p>\n

Hoss took a good mouthful of whisky and swilled it several times round his sore tooth before swallowing. His step-Ma had been right about the liquor helping. His face was still hurting like hell but somehow, the warm feeling the whisky was producing in his belly was making it more bearable.<\/p>\n

He tightened up his cinches and stepped back aboard. He still had a whole mess of cattle to round up today and a long way to drive them. Another look at the sky told him that there was one heck of a storm brewing up in the mountains. It was headed right his way. As sure as the good Lord made little apples he was going to get wet all over again.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Civic Offices in Silver City were housed in a new building, right in the middle of the oldest part of town. They had been built on reclaimed land where some old houses and stores had been knocked down. It was a modern building on two floors, faced with pale pine and with large louvred windows. Ben\u2019s meeting was being held in a room booked on the second floor, and it had already started when he got there.<\/p>\n

Ben apologised for being so late.<\/p>\n

Godfrey Little, a prosperous banker of generous proportions, whom Ben had known for years, made the introductions round the table. They were all faces that Ben knew vaguely. \u201cWilliard Tensing.\u201d a mild, reasonable sort of man, representative of the mine owner\u2019s Federation; \u201cJonathan Caldwell.\u201d abrasive, sharp faced and sharp tongued, spokesman for a consortium of merchants, \u201cPeter Harlan,\u201d who ran a timber operation on a mammoth scale in the North of the state, and who had a reputation for ruthlessness, \u201cand his son, Only.\u201d They were all affluent, successful and influential men, who, like Ben, had made their way up in the world from very small beginnings.<\/p>\n

Ben sat down and laid his papers carefully out on the table. He was well aware that he was in auspicious company here. He also knew that his opinion was likely to be in the minority. Each and every one of these men ~ and he included himself\u00a0 ~ had made a lot of money in his lifetime. They enjoyed making money, and they intended to go right on doing it. It was the means and the method that concerned Ben, and he had a feeling that it bothered him a lot more than it did any of the others.<\/p>\n

Godfrey Little confirmed his suspicions by the lack of sincerity in his voice when he spoke his next sentence; \u201cWe are, er, real glad you could make it, Ben.\u201d His eyes, small and blue, darted round the table. \u201cWe were just saying before you came in, now that they’ve connected the Central Pacific up with the Union Pacific over in Promontory, what a good thing it\u2019d be to run the railroad right up through the North of the State to Oregon. Eventually perhaps, we could connect up with the trans-Canadian Railroad they\u2019re building. That way we could ship timber and beef and ore right out of the State to the factories on the coast. Jonathan\u2019s people could bring in all the things we need to make Nevada a fine place to live.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow just a minute.\u201d Ben sat forward in his seat. His eyes were already hardening with annoyance. His deep, stern voice cut through the honeyed tones of self-congratulation. \u201cAs I understood it, the purpose of this meeting was to discuss whether or not we should let the railroad build North of Carson City and to decide together on the recommendations we put forward to the State Governor. We\u2019re not here to give the railroad company free rein to run tracks through the whole of the State!\u201d<\/p>\n

Caldwell made a placating gesture with his hand. The sunlight from the window caught and sparkled in the jewel in the ring that he wore. \u201cWe all know about that. But the railroad is coming whether we like it or not. You may as well get used to the idea and make the best of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben bristled. He didn\u2019t like Caldwell\u2019s tone.<\/p>\n

Little spoke up agreeing with the big-built, fancily dressed merchant. \u201cJonathan’s right. You know the Railroad Company\u2019s already bought right-of-way as far as Carson City. It stands to reason that from there, they\u2019ll want to press on northwards.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s as may be!\u201d Ben said growing a little heated. \u201cWhat\u2019s in question is the route they\u2019ll want to take and the way they go about it. Left to themselves, they\u2019ll run those tracks right through the most beautiful country in the State!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t know that, Ben,\u201d Tensing said quietly, and Harlan added,<\/p>\n

\u201cIt won\u2019t be as bad as you think.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben was working himself into a fine temper. \u201cIt\u2019ll be just a bad as I think! All the railroad tycoons are interested in is making money!\u201d<\/p>\n

Caldwell laughed depreciatingly; \u201cI think we all have a vested interest in that!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s dark eyed anger switched to him with all the speed of a snake strike; \u201cBut not at the price of the heritage we should be leaving our children!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you have plenty of it to leave yours, Cartwright,\u201d Caldwell rejoined.<\/p>\n

There was general laughter at Ben\u2019s expense.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd most of the best bits, from what I\u2019ve seen,\u201d Little added, chuckling.<\/p>\n

Ben glowered. This wasn\u2019t going at all well.<\/p>\n

Tensing tapped his pencil on the table, first one end and then the other; \u201cAre you trying to tell us, Ben, that you won\u2019t be shipping your cattle out through the new rail head at Carson City?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course I will, but…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, the miners want the same opportunity to ship their ore, and Peter there wants to haul his timber out, an\u2019 Jonathan would kind o\u2019 like to buy in bulk from the warehouses on the coast and ship in for his traders.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s only fair that everyone gets the same opportunities,\u201d Little said disarmingly.<\/p>\n

Ben was cross at the apparent conspiracy. \u201cI\u2019m saying that the enterprise should be properly planned rather than let it grow wild like some rank weed out in the pasture. I don\u2019t want any part of ruining the landscape for the sake of profit!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you saying, you won\u2019t be putting in a bid for the contract to supply lumber for the track?\u201d Harlan asked slyly.<\/p>\n

Ben pulled up short. He knew full well that the Ponderosa\u2019s bid for that particular contract had already been prepared, and submitted, and would soon be a matter of public record. He knew his face gave him away. \u201cThe Ponderosa re-plants for every tree we cut…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery noble.\u201d Harlan made a dismissive gesture. \u201cBen, you want your share, and we want ours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe all want access to the wider market, Ben,\u201d Tensing said reasonably.<\/p>\n

Ben knew for sure that he was losing this one. \u201cThere\u2019ll be factories moving in. heavy industry. Pollution scarring up the landscape…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they\u2019ll bring in people,\u201d Little said mildly. \u201cThey\u2019re all going want homes, and jobs. That means profits for all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n

The argument was becoming circular. Ben wished that Adam were there with his educated eloquence and his quick mind. But then, he thought bitterly, Adam might well have been arguing for the opposing side.<\/p>\n

And then Ben found support coming from an unexpected quarter. Only Harlan, younger son of Peter Harlan, had been sitting quietly listening to the flow of the argument, back and forth. Until now he had taken no part in the conversation. Now he sat forward and spoke in a quietly restrained voice, \u201cI think Mister Cartwright has a point. The railroad\u2019s coming. We all know that. If we try and stand in its way, we\u2019ll be trampled under by it.\u201d Ben remembered identical sentiments being expressed by another voice only that morning. \u201cBut, if we\u2019re not careful, we\u2019ll have property speculators moving in on us and taking over the entire State. We\u2019ll all be pushed clean out of business.\u201d Ben noticed that Peter Harlan looked ill at ease, and then down right annoyed with his son\u2019s expressed opinion. To an extent, Ben could sympathise. He had been in that same position himself more than once. However, he had a feeling that he could get to like this quietly spoken young man.<\/p>\n

Ben didn\u2019t like the sound of property speculators moving in one bit. He made a mental note to discuss it with Adam, the first chance he got.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I suggest you gentlemen do,\u201d Only Harlan went on, \u201cis set up a small advisory group, say just two men, to look into all the aspects of the proposed development, and the effects that it\u2019ll have on all our lives and businesses. Then, when we\u2019re properly informed, we can make a considered submission to Governor.\u201d<\/p>\n

The five older men round the table looked at him, digesting what he had said. Little looked at Ben. \u201cWould that be acceptable to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben thought furiously. \u201cWhom would we put on this advisory group?\u201d he asked, suspicious.<\/p>\n

Only Harlan drew a long breath, carefully not looking at his father\u2019s furious face; \u201cI guess I\u2019d be willing to do it, for one. And for the other ~ I understand you have a son with a degree in engineering, Mister Cartwright. Would he be willing to join me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben hesitated for a second, wary of committing Adam without consulting him, afraid of letting the opportunity slip by. Fear won. \u201cI\u2019m sure my son would be very glad to join you, Mister Harlan.\u201d<\/p>\n

Godfrey Little smiled a fat-cat smile. \u201cThat\u2019s what we\u2019ll do then. Ben\u2019s son and Peter\u2019s boy here, can put their heads together and come up with some sort of compromise. Now gentlemen, let’s get on to other business…\u201d<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The key turned, and the door swung open admitting a shaft of light into the gloom. Ossy Hirshall\u2019s voice followed it in; \u201cGuess you can come on out of there, Joe Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe emerged, blinking, into the light. He looked around. Dust laden sunlight spilled in through the windows. It had an odd, brassy look that sometimes denoted that a storm was on its way.<\/p>\n

Ossy Hirshall was standing over by the door, leaning on the frame looking out. The feed merchant sat in the corner with his feet up and a newspaper spread across his legs. He was asleep with his mouth open.<\/p>\n

Joe walked up behind Ossy Hirshall; \u201cWhat is it, Ossy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall looked at him sideways; \u201cGuess you kin go, boy. Yore stuff\u2019s over there on the barrel head.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was relieved to see everything there. He wasted no time in retrieving his gun and the roll of banknotes. He stuffed his other belongings back into his pockets. \u201cWhat about ol\u2019 Henry Carlisle?\u201d he asked, tying down the gun. \u201cYou figured out that I didn\u2019t kill him after all?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall screwed up his face; \u201cWell, I went on over an\u2019 looked at ol\u2019 Henry, an\u2019 I looked at the place where he died, an\u2019 I talked to a lot o\u2019 folks round about.\u201d He stopped and chewed on his lip.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?\u201d Joe prompted.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe way I see it,\u201d Hirshall said. \u201cOl\u2019 Henry was so gol-durned drunk he tripped up over his own feet, an\u2019 fell down, an\u2019 cracked his head on that darn rock hisself.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe joined him in the doorway, looking doubtful; \u201cIf that\u2019s the way you reckon it happened, Ossy.\u201d He shrugged eloquently.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d Hirshall cocked an eye at him. \u201cYou sure didn\u2019t leave that saloon ta kill \u2018im.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe could only agree; \u201cNo. I didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Someone had taken Joe\u2019s mare up to the stable and tied her up out of the sun. As he walked along to get her, Joe called in at the barber\u2019s shop. The barber looked up, saw who it was and went back to the client he was shaving. \u201cIf\u2019n you want yore hair cut, boy, you jist sit, \u2018n\u2019 wait, an\u2019 I’ll be with you in jist a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want my hair cut. I came to see how Paulin Idress is doin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe foreign fella out back?\u201d The barber glanced up again. \u201cReckon he\u2019s still sleepin\u2019 it off. Weren\u2019t nothin I could do fer that leg \u2018cept cut it off, so that\u2019ll be two more bits you owe me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe sighed and felt slightly sick. He had been afraid from the beginning, that that would be the case. He dug deep in his pocket for a two-bit piece.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sheriff Roy coffee leaned on the corner post of the veranda at the union of First Street and Main and chewed on a straw. It was a favourite leaning post. From here he could see the whole length of both of Virginia City\u2019s principle thoroughfares and spot anything that looked likely to turn into trouble ahead of time. Roy had ridden into Virginia City when it was still a collection of tents and shanties and, somehow, never got round to riding out again. He had represented the law there for more years than he cared to count. He had grown old as the town had grown up. His dark hair had turned to grey and then to white, and his always-pale eyes had bleached out to colourlessness. He was a phlegmatic, vastly experienced man, who both demanded, and got, respect. With a small team of select deputies, he kept the ever-growing boomtown on a tight rein, and mainly, he did it simply by keeping his eyes open. Roy Coffee didn\u2019t miss much, and he certainly didn\u2019t miss the man riding into town on the big bay horse that hung down below as if he were still a stallion.<\/p>\n

Roy\u2019s attention sharpened. Physically, he scarcely moved. Just a slight tensing of the muscles, an infinitesimal straightening of the back, a tiny lift of the head, betrayed his sudden interest. The rider on the bay horse sat the saddle just like Ben Cartwright\u2019s oldest boy.<\/p>\n

Roy Coffee knew Adam Cartwright well. Had watched him grow from boy to manhood and both liked and respected him. He knew him for an intelligent, astute, highly capable man with something of a short fuse. More than once, when he was younger, Roy had locked him up in the gaol to cool off a mad. Now he had matured into a dependable, conscientious, responsible citizen. He was also known to be a man with a clever, often cynical mouth and a keen eye for the ladies. Right now, Adam Cartwright didn\u2019t look any one of those things. He looked like a sick man, and Roy knew full well that he had no business being on a horse, let alone anywhere near Virginia City.<\/p>\n

He watched Adam turn the horse into the rail across the street and slither, somewhat gracelessly, out of the saddle. Roy spat out the straw and started to angle across the street towards him.<\/p>\n

Adam clung for a moment to the saddle leathers while he got what his father would have called his sea legs. His knees had turned to jelly on him. Then he tied Mozart quite securely to the hitching rail and, walking carefully, crossed the boardwalk to the door of the doctors office.<\/p>\n

It was locked.<\/p>\n

Adam turned the brass knob again and rattled the door. Somehow, he was finding it hard to get it into his head that the place was all locked up, and Paul Martin wasn\u2019t there.<\/p>\n

Roy Coffee came up behind him gently. He knew very well that Adam was lightning fast with that black handled gun he wore, and he didn\u2019t want any accidents. \u201cYou got a problem, Adam?\u201d he asked quietly.<\/p>\n

Careful as Roy had been, Adam jumped, but his gun hand only flexed. Roy looked him over. He was waxy white in the face and wet with sweat. His black hair was plastered down with it and his shirt was sticking to him. Obviously, riding around with that scarcely healed belly wound wasn\u2019t doing him any good at all. Roy was surprised old Ben Cartwright was allowing him to do it. Grown men his boys might be, but out at the Ponderosa Ben still ruled the roost. Come to that, the horse wasn\u2019t in much better shape. Its bright coat was darkened and lathered and there was a wild look in its eye.<\/p>\n

Adam gathered himself quickly; \u201cI\u2019m looking for Paul Martin, Roy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, he ain\u2019t there,\u201d Roy said, unnecessarily.<\/p>\n

For a moment something akin to panic flared in Adam\u2019s hooded eyes. Roy thought he might go back and rattle the door some more, just for good measure, but he didn\u2019t. \u201cD\u2019you know where he is?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReckon he might be out at the Pearce\u2019s place ag\u2019in. They got a couple o\u2019 kids right poorly.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam stepped towards the horse, and Roy got out of his way. He knew pig headed determination when he saw it, and he wasn\u2019t going to tangle with Cartwright in this mood.<\/p>\n

Adam had untied the stallion and was trying to get his foot up into the stirrup while the horse was trying all kinds of foolishness to stop him. \u201cJenny\u2019s having the baby,\u201d he said over his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t think that was for a couple o\u2019 weeks yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess no-one told the baby.\u201d Adam got the horse sideways on to the hitching rail and managed to get his foot up into the iron. It cost him a lot of effort and quite some pain to haul himself\u00a0 back into that saddle. Roy noted it all carefully.<\/p>\n

He frowned and shook his head. \u201cYou sure ain\u2019t well enough ta be galloping round the country side on no horse, Adam. You want me ta\u2019 find someone…?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s face took on that archetypal, stubborn Cartwright look, even if he was a bit green about the gills. \u201cI\u2019ve got this far,\u201d he said, remembering his manners just well enough to touch his hat in farewell.<\/p>\n

He touched his heels to the horse\u2019s sides, and the stallion took off with a squat buck that Roy thought was going to dump Adam Cartwright on his head. The two of them went flying off down Main Street, kicking up the dust and leaving Roy Coffee looking after them, shaking his head.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hop Sing padded across the dining room floor, silent in his soft slippers. He regarded this big house as his own, and the Cartwright family was merely another extension of his own, vast, family network. He had seen Cartwrights born, and he had seen Cartwrights die, and on the surface, none of it seemed to affect him. What went on behind his inscrutable oriental features, he kept a carefully guarded secret.<\/p>\n

His hand on the knob, he opened the door to the downstairs bedroom and peered in. Missy Jenny Cartwright lay quietly in the bed, her only movement the slow rise and fall of her breathing. Her dark hair spread out on the pillow, framing her pale face. Her eyelids, almost transparent, were closed in sleep. The time had not yet come.<\/p>\n

Satisfied, Hop Sing closed the door, and padded silently away.<\/p>\n

3:00 pm<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones was sitting in a tipped back chair on the porch of the cabin that was both his home, and the offices for the freighting business he ran when Joe rode into the front yard on his piebald mare. He appeared for all the world to be sleeping in the sun. Joe pulled the mare up, and sat in the saddle waiting for an invite.<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones wasn\u2019t asleep. He opened one eye, and then, slowly, the other. He looked Joe and the mare over carefully. \u201cI guess,\u201d he said at last, \u201cYou just have to be a Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe pushed his hat to the back of his head. \u201cHow can you tell?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones rocked his chair forward onto all four legs. \u201cSomething about the look of you,\u201d he said. \u201cSomething about the way you sit in the saddle. Cartwright through, an\u2019 through. Just like your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones stood up and to Joe\u2019s surprise, even though Adam had warned him, he just kept on coming. Jones was a much bigger man standing up that he appeared to be sitting down. Nor was he so old. He gazed at Joe out of pale blue eyes; \u201cCome on down, boy, an\u2019 tell me how he\u2019s goin\u2019 on.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stepped down from the mare\u2019s saddle and looped the reins round the rail. \u201cBrother Adam\u2019s coming along right fine,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019s been up on his feet for a while now. The doc. Said he could go out of the house today as long as he takes it real, real easy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGlad to hear it. Good man, your brother. Real sorry ta hear he got shot up like that. I guess you come ta look over that quarter horse mare I wrote your Pa about?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right.\u201d Joe couldn\u2019t keep the smile out of his voice.<\/p>\n

Jones lifted an eyebrow at him; \u201cKnow something about horses, do you, young Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I know a little,\u201d Joe grinned. \u201cBut I\u2019m learning all the time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones led the way round the back of the cabin to where the mare stood in a small corral all by herself. She was a very dark, bay horse without a single white hair anywhere on her body. She stood very tall with the powerful quarters, deep chest and relatively small head typical of the quarter horse. Her mouth was soft and her big eyes, darkly intelligent. Joe felt himself falling instantly ~ and deeply ~ in love.<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones put both forearms on the top corral rail, and rested himself. \u201cYou better get in there and do what you gotta do, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe came to with a jolt, and realized that not only had he been staring like a star struck kid, but that his mouth had come open. He closed it, and climbed into the corral.<\/p>\n

The mare was amenable to his examination. She lifted each of her feet for him in turn. And she moved this way and that when he asked her. She didn\u2019t even cause too much fuss when he opened her mouth to look at her teeth. Joe remembered his big brother\u2019s words and paid special attention to her legs.<\/p>\n

Finally he straightened up and dusted off his hands. Kingdom Jones was still leaning on the corral rail watching, his weathered face poker straight. Joe walked over. \u201cShe seems like a fine mare, Mister Jones.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe is a fine mare. Too good ta be haulin\u2019 one o\u2019 my wagons an\u2019 that\u2019s fer sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout seven years?\u201d Joe ventured.<\/p>\n

Jones nodded; \u201cI reckoned about seven.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked back at the mare with what he hoped wasn\u2019t too much longing. He was imagining, already, the beautiful colt she\u2019d get from Monarch, his coal black Morgan stallion and the pride of his breeding project.<\/p>\n

\u201cEr \u2013 how much did you want for her, Mister Jones?\u201d<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones named a figure.<\/p>\n

Joe knew that was one hell of a lot of money for a mare. He resisted the urge to swallow, hard, and drew a long careful breath. Kingdom Jones was watching him carefully, and with some hint of amusement.<\/p>\n

Unconsciously, Joe wiped his sweating palms against his pants leg, \u201cI don\u2019t know if my Pa was reckoning to pay quite that much, Mister Jones,\u201d he said finally.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour Pa ain\u2019t here, boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe looked from Jones to the horse and back. He had the money in his pocket. Just about enough. His Pa hadn\u2019t given him any instructions other than to look the mare over carefully and to make sure she was worth whatever he paid for her. Both his Pa, and now Kingdom Jones, had left the decision to him.<\/p>\n

Joe made up his mind. He held out his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got yourself a deal, Mister Jones.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kingdom Jones\u2019s face cracked a smile; \u201cCome on in, Joe Cartwright, and let\u2019s get ourselves a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When it came to rounding up cattle, it was often said that you needed three things: a good man, a good horse and a fair wind. It was fortunate for Hoss Cartwright that he had with him the most essential of the three. It had taken long, painstaking hours to train the black cutting horse. It was now that all the patience paid off. That horse could out-run, out manoeuvre and out think any steer on the range, and it was as well that he could because Hoss wasn\u2019t being a whole lot of assistance.<\/p>\n

Hoss was in misery. The pain in his face, which had abated for a while, had returned to torment him at three times the intensity. He had a hot, hard swelling in the side of his jaw which was making his already broad face even wider. The ache had spread all the way down his arm and was making his fingers numb. The whisky was no longer helping, although by now he had consumed two thirds of the bottle. The liquor lay in the pit of his belly, a bubbling cauldron of fire, and the fumes were rising up to befuddle his head. He clung on to the reins and the saddle horn with one hand and rode with the other clamped to his face. Visions of the dentist\u2019s imagined chamber of tortures occupied his mind more than the probable dispersal of the cattle.<\/p>\n

To add to the problem, and to Hoss\u2019s unhappiness, the rainstorm that had been threatening finally arrived, drifting down out of the higher hills on cooling air currents. It started with huge angel-tear drops that smacked into the ground with the sound of a bullet hitting a sack of rice. They hammered Hoss across the shoulders, and the cold wet started to seep through to his fevered skin.<\/p>\n

As the pace of the storm increased the wind picked up, driving down out of the hills and across the high grasslands. The raindrops became smaller and much more numerous. Before long, true to his prediction, both Hoss and the horse were soaked right through.<\/p>\n

Sheets of icy cold, hard driven rain marched in waves across the pasture, making it difficult, if not impossible, to pick out the landmarks. It took Hoss twice the time he would normally have taken to inspect every last corner of the range, and to make sure he hadn\u2019t left any of the lost cattle behind. By the time he had the little rag tag herd of about thirty head assembled, the autumn storm was blowing in full spate. The heavy-headed chestnut trees were tossing wildly in the wind, and there were hailstones the size of walnuts pelting both horse and rider.<\/p>\n

To crown it all there was a sullen rumble of thunder from up in the hills, and then a sudden vicious bolt of lightening that hit the ground too close for comfort lit up the landscape.<\/p>\n

Hoss jumped, and the horse shied, the twin jolts coming together in the agony of his jawbone.<\/p>\n

Hoss groaned, in more pain than he could remember for a very long time. For that moment even the threat of the dentist held not quite the horror that it had before.<\/p>\n

Reluctantly, for right now this was the last place he wanted to be, he moved the black horse round to the rear of the little herd, and started to move the cows forward.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Paul Martin came out of the Pearce\u2019s house with his bag and hat held together in one hand and closed the door behind him with the other. He was satisfied at last that the two Pearce children he had come to treat were recovering from the spotty, feverish condition that had laid them low for more than two weeks. The illness had lingered on for far too long. He was certainly not happy that both the children were small in stature for their ages and much too thin. All of the children ~ and the Pearce\u2019s had quite a number ~ looked to be underweight and sickly. Paul was afraid that more of them yet might come down with the fever. He was further afraid, although she hadn\u2019t said anything, that the prematurely grey and work worn Mrs. Pearce might be carrying yet another addition to the, already too numerous, family.<\/p>\n

He set his hat on his head and stepped across the porch towards his buggy. As he did so he saw a rider coming into the yard on a somewhat jaded looking horse.<\/p>\n

Paul Martin stopped and did a swift double take on that. It was not Yemin Pearce coming home early from his work. Paul was sure of it ~ the rider, impossibly, was Adam Cartwright.<\/p>\n

Paul stepped round the buggy and went to meet the horse as it pulled up. His kindly, somewhat weather beaten face creased into lines of considerable concern and annoyance.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam? What the devil are you doing way out here? And why are you up on a horse?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam decided that, on the whole, the best thing for him to do was to stay right where he was, in the saddle. He afraid that if he got down Paul would realise the state that he had gotten himself into. The doctor would then waste valuable time in helping him when he should be on his way out to the Ponderosa. There was also the distinct probability that his legs would betray him and leave him sprawling in the dirt of the Pearce\u2019s front yard. So instead, he composed his face and tried to make his lean on the saddle horn seem nonchalant. \u201cJenny needs you out at the ranch, Paul ~ as fast as you can make it. The baby\u2019s startin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t do it, Adam.\u201d Paul\u2019s frown deepened. \u201cI have to take medicine over to the Schultze\u2019s farm for old Mister Schultze. He\u2019s being eaten up from the inside, and the pain\u2019s starting to get real bad. I promised…\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam cursed inwardly and straightened up in the saddle. \u201cGive it to me, Paul. I\u2019ll take it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely not!\u201d Paul, an old family friend of the Cartwrights as well as their family physician, took the liberty of putting his hand up on Adam\u2019s saddle leathers. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t be on that horse at all, let alone galloping round the country side…\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m on the horse now, Paul, and a little bit further isn\u2019t going to make a whole lot of difference. Jenny needs you!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long ago did Jenny start?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam hadn\u2019t the faintest idea. His time sense was all shot to hell. \u201cI don\u2019t know. Some time this morning!\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul made rapid calculations. It was essential that he got the pain killing medicine out to the Schultze\u2019s farm. Old Georges Schultze was going through ten different sorts of hell already, and it was going to get a whole lot worse before the inevitable end. And the Schultze\u2019s place was way out in the other direction to the Ponderosa. Now Paul wished he\u2019d gone straight there first instead of calling in at the Pearce\u2019s.<\/p>\n

He knew that Jenny Cartwright was going to need his help. She was a small woman, slight in build and slender in the hips and the way she\u2019d been blowing up lately, Paul was afraid she just might be carrying another Hoss Cartwright. He looked at the man on the horse in front of him. He\u2019d known Adam for almost as long as Roy Coffee, and he wasn\u2019t fooled by the man\u2019s act one little bit. Adam\u2019s unconscious body language was giving him away even if his face wasn\u2019t. He was exhausted and in pain and barely staying on that damn dancing horse.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t let you do it, Adam\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have a choice! Give me the damn bottle and get goin\u2019 will ya!?\u201d<\/p>\n

Picking up on Adam\u2019s agitation, Mozart began to prance in earnest. Adam pulled the horse\u2019s head round hard and made him circle; \u201cPaul!\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul dithered. He had three, no, make that four patients, who all needed him, in three separate places. He had to decide, and decide right now. \u201cAll right,\u201d he said. \u201cStay right there, and I\u2019ll get it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam held Mozart together with a tight rein while Paul plunged into the depths of his buggy. The doctor came up with a medicine-bottle shaped package. He handed it up to Adam. \u201cYou just give that to Mrs. Schultze. She knows what to do!\u201d The last was shouted after the retreating horseman as Mozart snatched the bit and galloped out of the yard.<\/p>\n

Paul heaved a great sigh. He just hoped that Adam Cartwright could summon enough strength from somewhere to stay on that thumping great horse and didn\u2019t come off somewhere along the road and crack his skull open. He\u2019d just hate to have to explain that one to Ben Cartwright! He climbed aboard his buggy and gee\u2019d up his horse, setting off in the other direction towards the Ponderosa.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Godfrey Little slapped Ben on the back as they left through the meeting room door and headed towards the rather grand sweep of staircase that led down to the lower level and the main door. He had sensed the big rancher\u2019s despondency through the second half of the meeting and wanted to say something to at least lighten the atmosphere. Ben Cartwright was a big man in the business world of Western Nevada, and Little was astute enough to realise that getting on his bad side would help no-one.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you worry yourself any about Caldwell and Harlan, Ben. There\u2019s a whole lot of talk there that don\u2019t mean much.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben Cartwright looked at him, and his dark eyes were worried. \u201cI wish I could believe that, Godfrey,\u201d he said heavily. \u201cThey\u2019re both powerful men, and they swing a lot of weight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe boys\u2019ll sort it out. Only Harken has his head screwed on straight, and your Adam has a brain on him like a sharp knife.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben smiled wryly and shook his head. \u201cI guess they\u2019ll figure something out between them. Hopefully before the railroad drives right through the state.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSay…\u201d At the top of the stairs Little hesitated, catching Ben by the arm. \u201cDidn\u2019t I hear something about that boy of yours catching a bullet a while back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m afraid you heard it right.\u201d Ben suppressed a shudder at the horror of the memory. \u201cIt was touch and go for while.\u201d<\/p>\n

Little\u2019s face expressed a concern that certainly seemed genuine. \u201cAnd how is he now?\u201d he asked as they started down the stairs together.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s just about back on his feet. Paul Martin pulled him through. You remember Paul?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, indeed.\u201d Little nodded. \u201cHe\u2019s a good man. How are the rest of the family?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. Fine.\u201d At the bottom of the staircase the two men turned to face each other. \u201cJoe and Hoss are fine young men now, and Jenny, my wife, is about to have a baby any day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA girl, this time, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben smiled and shook his head. \u201cNo, sir. I reckon this\u2019ll be another boy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Little laughed and offered his hand. \u201cWell, Good luck to you, Ben. Give my best to your wife and the boys.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two men shook hands, and Ben stepped out into the street.<\/p>\n

4:00 pm<\/p>\n

As Ben emerged from the shaded gloom of the civic buildings into the hot glare of the afternoon sun, a small figure, all long arms and legs, stood up from where he had been siting on the bottom step. Ben recognised at once the tousled hair and the green and gold eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe?\u201d He was more than half surprised to ever set eyes on the boy again.<\/p>\n

\u201cMister Cartwright.\u201d Joe Drury shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. \u201cI done what you said. I went home an\u2019 told my Ma what I done, an\u2019 what you said down at the Police Station.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you now?\u201d Ben looked sternly down at him from his much greater height. \u201dAnd what did your Ma have to say?\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy looked down at his feet and then up again. His eyes were bright and brimming over. \u201cMa was awful mad,\u201d he said with a distinct catch,. \u201cShe got out the switch, an\u2019 she gave me an awful thrashin\u2019.\u201d Joe wiped his wet nose on his sleeve. \u201cAn\u2019 then she sat down at the table, an\u2019 she cried some.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben resisted the urge to reach out to the boy. He remembered well times when he\u2019d had to discipline one of his own and knew that sympathy rendered the punishment ineffective. \u201cI don\u2019t suppose your Ma enjoyed it any more than you did,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Joe snuffled and sniffed. \u201cThen Ma said I should come an\u2019 find you an\u2019 ask you to come on down ta our house, so that you\u2019n her can have that talk you wanted.\u201d Joe\u2019s eyes searched Ben\u2019s face, half-fearful, half-hopeful. \u201cMa\u2019s gettin\u2019 somethin\u2019 awful fancy ready fer dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben read the pleading and the anxiety that had replaced the former sulky defiance in the boy\u2019s face. He gleaned some idea of the interview that had taken place between mother and son. \u201cI\u2019ll be real pleased to come and have dinner with you and your Ma,\u201d he said. \u201cYou lead the way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe did just that. He took Ben through the city streets, out of the prosperous business district, south and east, into increasingly poorer areas. The streets became narrower and the buildings that lined them upon either side, smaller and less well kept. There were few offices here and none of the large fancy stores. There were small shops and private houses but, finally, even these were left behind. They were replaced by shanties and shacks built of nothing more than clapboard or wattle and daub with dark and threatening alleyways between. These were the haunts of the pawn brokers and the money lenders, of wagoners and bootleg whiskey makers, of whores and pimps and opium dealers.<\/p>\n

The streets, although so much meaner, were no less busy. Gone was the opulence of the city centre. Here the traffic consisted not of coaches and carriages but of wagons and hand-carts. Ben heard a dozen languages spoken as he passed, among them French and German, Italian and Chinese. The people wore ragged homespun and the women with painted faces, faded finery. The stares that followed him were filled with curiosity and envy and sometimes aggression. Although Joe walked unconcerned, Ben was uneasy and took comfort from the weight of the gun on his hip.<\/p>\n

They came to a broken backed little cabin, in the middle of a row. There were piles of garbage rotting up against the walls and a smell of something even less savoury in the air. Joe pushed open the door and led Ben inside.<\/p>\n

The shack had only the one room and a kitchen at the back. It was sparsely furnished, with cots against two of the walls and a stove up against the third. It was tidy and it was clean.<\/p>\n

The name of Joe\u2019s mother was Helen. She was not tall, the bun of her greying hair coming barely up to Ben’s shoulder. Her face might once have held a sort of prettiness but now it was tired and jaded, lined with care and age before its time. Only her eyes were young and vital, speckled with gold, brown and green.<\/p>\n

She smoothed the apron she wore over a faded blue dress and spoke in voice that had a faint lilt to it, maybe Irish, but Ben wasn\u2019t sure. \u201cIt\u2019s honour you bring to my house, Mister Cartwright. Joe told me what you done for him, and it\u2019s my wish to thank you for it. There\u2019ll be a meal ready in a while, and we\u2019d be right pleased if you\u2019d sit down and share it with us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben smiled at her; \u201cThat\u2019d be my pleasure, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled back, and the smile took some of the tiredness out of her face. \u201cYou can hang you hat an\u2019 your gun over by the door, Mister Cartwright, and then you jest set.\u201d She indicated the one comfortable chair in the room. \u201cJoe, you get on out ta the pump, an\u2019 get yourself washed up, an then you c\u2019n come an\u2019 talk ta Mister Cartwright…\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben did as he was bidden and settled himself into the armchair, listening to the domesticated rattle of pots coming from the kitchen and the sounds of the traffic in the street outside.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe rode back into Sparks with the bay quarter horse mare trailing on a lead rein. She had manners as nice as her looks, and she wasn\u2019t giving him any trouble. Ben Cartwright\u2019s youngest son was feeling ridiculously pleased with himself, and the three stiff shots he\u2019d had from Kingdom Jones\u2019s bottle to cement the bargain were just serving to help the feeling along.<\/p>\n

As he reached edge of town, he couldn\u2019t help but notice the neat little house with all the potted<\/p>\n

flowers outside. There were pink ones, blue ones and yellow ones. As he rode by, quite by chance the front door opened and Maryanne stepped out onto the porch. She had a watering can in her hand. She looked up and saw him, and her pretty little heart-shaped face lit up with a big smile. She walked down the path to the gate in the picket fence. It was all as pretty as a picture and just a little too good to be true. Joe pulled up the pinto mare and touched the brim of his hat. \u201cMa\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, Joe Cartwright! Don\u2019t tell me you were goin\u2019 ta ride on by without even stoppin\u2019 ta say hello?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe grinned his wicked boyish grin ~ the one he knew never failed to melt the ladys\u2019 hearts.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, ma\u2019am, would I do that?\u201d<\/p>\n

She leaned over the fence, just a little ~ just enough to offer a glimpse of hidden delights to a mounted horseman. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you step on down and sit for a while? My Ma just made fresh apple pie, an\u2019 there\u2019s coffee on the stove.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe glanced quickly at the brassy sky, estimating the time. He reckoned he had an hour or so. Never taking his eyes from Maryanne\u2019 he threw his leg over the mare\u2019s withers and slid down out of the saddle. He tied both horses securely to the picket fence, and Maryanne opened the gate for him. She hooked her arm through his and they walked together up the front path and through the front door of the house.<\/p>\n

Tossing his hat onto the kitchen table, Joe looked around. Sure enough, there was an apple pie on the dresser, warm and fragrant with a crisp sugar coat and a coffee pot sitting on the back of the stove.<\/p>\n

All of a sudden, however, Maryanne didn\u2019t seem so very interested in feeding him. She moved in close, and he caught another whiff of her perfume. She ran her fingertips lightly up his arms from his elbows to his shoulders and lifted her face to his, eyes half closed.<\/p>\n

Joe lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips. Her hands slid round his back, and she pulled him closer; \u201cC\u2019mon, Joe Cartwright. You c\u2019n do better than that,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

Joe drew back uneasily. \u201cBut, er, where\u2019s your Ma?\u201d<\/p>\n

Maryanne laughed lightly. \u201cMa\u2019s out visitin.\u2019 She won\u2019t be back \u2018til it\u2019s dark.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that a fact?\u201d Joe put his arms round her and drew her in to him. She undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one, and then slipped her soft little hands inside. She slid them across the smoothness of his chest and round his sides. She pulled his shirt out of his pants.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s hands were busy doing some exploring of their own. They followed the seams of her bodice down to where her skirt flared out over her hips.<\/p>\n

One of\u00a0 Maryanne\u2019s hands disengaged itself and found its way round to the back of his head. Her fingers tangled themselves in his curls, and she pulled his face down towards hers. Her mouth was suddenly hungry and demanding. Her other hand tracked downwards, seeking and finding.<\/p>\n

Joe found himself rising to the occasion. He felt for her breast and found it hard under his hand. Her fingers tightened in his hair. She pulled her lips away from his just long enough to whisper into his ear, \u201cI got some real pretty things in my room, Joe Cartwright. I\u2019d sure like to show them to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn\u2019 I\u2019d sure like to see them,\u201d he whispered back.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you carry me on up?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe smiled and scooped her into his arms, carried her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mozart came to a slithering stop outside the Schultze\u2019s cabin. Adam came out of the saddle rather faster than he intended. He managed to land on his feet and stood for a moment hanging on to horse\u2019s flank while he regained his equilibrium.<\/p>\n

The door of the cabin opened, and Mrs. Schultze came out onto the porch. She was a woman Adam knew by sight. They had exchanged a few words from time to time. Tall, elderly, with hair turning from grey into white, she wore a severe, slate-grey dress with scraps of lace at neck and wrist. Unable for a moment to let go of the horse, Adam nodded to her. \u201cMrs. Schultze.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, Mister Cartwright.\u201d Mrs. Schultze came to the edge of the porch and put a pale, long fingered hand against the upright. With her other hand, she tucked in a stray strand of hair, an unconscious, feminine gesture. \u201cWhatever are you doing all the way out here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Finally, Adam caught his breath and managed to straighten up. \u201cDoc. Martin asked me to ride out with the medicine for Mister Schultze.\u201d He held out the bottle in its wrapping.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Schultze gazed at the bottle and at the hand that held it as if it were some strange and mystical object. Her face worked, but no words came from her mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Schultze?\u201d Adam prompted.<\/p>\n

Her eyes refocused on his face; \u201cOh, Mister Cartwright! I am so sorry. Please forgive me.\u201d She took the bottle and held it in both hands. \u201cIt really is most kind of you to come all this way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam stepped up onto the porch and stood close to her. \u201cIs something the matter, Mrs. Schultze? What is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

She gazed at him out of dry, slate-coloured eyes. \u201cMy husband died an hour ago, Mister Cartwright. I\u2019m afraid your kindness is just a little too late.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam put a hand lightly on the woman\u2019s arm and led her back inside the cabin.<\/p>\n

There was only one room with a table and a bed and a huge iron cooking range up against one wall. Georges Schultze lay in the bed.<\/p>\n

Adam sat Mrs Schultze down in a chair at the table and went over to look at him. He looked as old as anyone Adam had ever seen, and he had died in the most terrible pain. There was nothing Adam could do to compose the contorted features. He did manage to close the staring eyes and straighten out the limbs. He covered the old man\u2019s face with a blanket from the bed.<\/p>\n

There was a pot full of coffee sitting on the range, barely warm. The fire was just glowing embers and there was no wood in the box. The cabin was starting to grow cold. Adam found another blanket and draped it round the empty eyed woman\u2019s shoulders. Then he went on out to find something to burn.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A mixed herd of thirty cows and steers in the middle of a mountain storm was not the easiest thing for one man on a horse to handle. The clouds had come down so low out of the mountains that it seemed to Hoss that he just had to reach up a hand to touch them. The rumble of thunder was almost continuous, low and angry, and flashes of lightening danced from one thunderhead to another. The rain continued to pour.<\/p>\n

The cows, now moving steadily on the downward slope, bellowed; they were alarmed by all the commotion. Hoss urged the horse to a faster pace to overtake the lead animal, and slow the little group down.<\/p>\n

Thunder growled again, closer and louder. Encouraged by a rattle of hailstones against their rumps, the cattle broke into a trot.<\/p>\n

Hoss swore feelingly and tried to turn the flank of the herd in on itself to force the animals to mill and circle. The cattle were having none of it. They continued on down the hillside towards the lower pastures at a steadily increasing pace.<\/p>\n

The black horse, sitting back against the slope to avoid falling with its rider, was hard put to keep up.<\/p>\n

Lightening flared and cracked. Hoss turned in the saddle to see a twisted old stump of tree, the object of many a previous strike, flare into flame. The thunder, instant and deafening rolled round the hills. The cattle broke into a run. Before he knew what was happening, the big man on the horse had a full-blooded, if small scale, stampede on his hands.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jenny woke up with a cry of pain. The dull waves that had been plaguing her all afternoon had sharpened abruptly into a band of steel. She grasped at the bedclothes as, of its own volition, her body writhed against the mattress trying to free itself of the torment. Sweat broke from every pore, sticking her hair to her head, and her night dress to her body.<\/p>\n

Then, as the pain gradually started to fade, there were hands to bathe her face and neck with a cloth wrung out in tepid water. She opened her green eyes and looked up into the face of the little Chinese cook. He bobbed his head and smiled encouragement at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cMissy Jenny be all right,\u201d he said. \u201cHop Sing here.\u201d<\/p>\n

He lifted her head and held an eggcup-sized cup to her lips. She sipped a bittersweet brew of Oriental herbs.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep Missy Jenny strong,\u201d Hop Sing said with a smile.<\/p>\n

Jenny rolled her head; her eyes searched the room. \u201cWhere is everyone? Where\u2019s Ben? Where\u2019s Paul? Did Adam come back?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMissy Jenny not worry.\u201d Hop Sing dabbed at her face again with the cloth. \u201cMissa Adam, Missa Paul, they come real soon. Missa Ben, he come later.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny looked at him in dawning horror as she realized that the two of them were alone. \u201cHop Sing? What are we going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot worry,\u201d Hop Sing said again. \u201cHop Sing here. Everyone else come soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny didn\u2019t have time to argue. The next pain was starting to build.<\/p>\n

5:00 pm<\/p>\n

Sipping at the hot coffee, Mrs. Schultze gave Adam a wan smile across the rim of the cup. \u201cI really am grateful to you, Mister Cartwright. If you hadn\u2019t come along…\u201d A strong frontier\u2019s woman of the old fashioned sort she was recovering quickly, now, from the shock of her husband\u2019s death. Her face was a better colour, and there was light again in her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m glad to oblige, ma\u2019am.\u201d Adam sipped his own coffee, grateful for the warming effect the thick black brew was having on his belly. He was still more pleased to have his backside on a firm chair for a while, instead of in Mozart\u2019s saddle. The prospect of the ride back to the ranch did not hold much appeal.<\/p>\n

Now it was warmer in the cabin\u2019s single room, and Adam had lit a lamp to forestall the gathering gloom. There was enough firewood to last through the night, though the effort had cost him dear.<\/p>\n

\u201cI expect you\u2019ll be moving into town now, Mrs. Schultze?\u201d he ventured.<\/p>\n

\u201cI haven\u2019t thought.\u201d She shook her head and smiled sadly. \u201cI can\u2019t manage the farm on my own so I guess I\u2019ll have to sell up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam doubted there would be a buyer for the little patch of cleared scrub brush and potatoes, but he kept his opinions carefully to himself. \u201cDo you have any family you could go to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. We never had any children, Mister Schultze and me. The good Lord never saw fit…\u201d She squeezed her eyes tight shut for long seconds and then drew a deep, steadying breath.<\/p>\n

Adam waited. She brushed a knuckle across a dry cheek. \u201cI… have a cousin back east. We write each other twice a year. She\u2019s a widow woman too, now. I guess, if I could raise the fare, I could go an\u2019 live with her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam reached across the table, and covered her hand with his. \u201cYou write your cousin, Mrs. Schultze. I\u2019ll see to it that you have the fare.\u201d<\/p>\n

The old woman looked down at their linked hands and then up again into Adam\u2019s face. Now, at last, there were tears in her eyes.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe drew Maryanne\u2019s soft warm body close against his and kissed her willing lips one last time. Then he stepped out onto the porch and looked up at the sky. The overcast had lowered, and the temperature of the desert had started to drop. Joe reckoned it was going to rain before he got home. He set his hat on his head at a jaunty angle and set off down the path.<\/p>\n

His footsteps slowed as he neared the gate in the little picket fence. A frown formed on his face, and a cold ball of panic started to form up in his gut. The piebald mare still stood exactly where he\u2019d left her, one hind leg resting on the toe of her hoof. There was no sign at all of the bay quarter horse. She had vanished completely without leaving one single trace.<\/p>\n

With a yell Joe leapt the fence. He stood in the middle of the street and looked both ways. The mare wasn\u2019t anywhere to be seen. Joe threw his hat down in the dirt, and stamped on it.<\/p>\n

Ossy Hirshall was out in front of the feed store, smoking a thin black cheroot. He watched with cool speculation as Joe Cartwright galloped up on the pinto mare. Joe all but fell out of the saddle; \u201cOssy! Someone\u2019s stole my horse!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall digested that statement with care. \u201cYou mean someone\u2019s stole that fancy horse your Pa gave you all that money fer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the horse! I tied her up real good, and now she\u2019s gone!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall looked Joe over, considering. \u201cWhere\u2019d you leave a horse like that so\u2019s someone could steal it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does it matter where I left her!\u201d Joe was yelling now. \u201cI was just visitin\u2019 with Maryanne. The horse was tied right outside! Ain\u2019t you supposed ta be the law round here? Ain\u2019t you gonna help me find my horse?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall took a pull from his cheroot. \u201cWell, guess I am,\u201d he said in laconic answer to both questions. He dropped the stub onto the boardwalk, and ground it out under his heel. \u201cYou jist calm down a bit, boy, an\u2019 I\u2019ll go get my horse.\u201d He started to turn away, then changed his mind, and looked Joe over again. \u201cJoe Cartwright, di\u2019n\u2019t your Pa ever tell you \u2018bout visitin\u2019 with ladies like Maryanne?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe felt hot colour flush into his face. \u201cMy Pa told me,\u201d he confessed.<\/p>\n

Hirshall drew a long breath, and shook his head. \u201cGuess if we don\u2019t find that fancy horse, you\u2019re going to have one hell of a lot of explainin\u2019 ta do, boy. One hell of a lot!\u201d<\/p>\n

Like Hirshall himself, the horse he rode stood tall and lean. He was a raw-boned red-roan gelding with flashy white stockings all the way up to his knees and a wicked white face. Hirshall sat an old fashioned, black, fore-and-aft rigged saddle all tasselled with black leather stringing. With his dark clothes, little grey moustache, and his long tied back hair, he looked like something out of some eastern rodeo show. He sat in the saddle like an old time gun fighter: ramrod straight, with the reins gathered into his left hand and his right hand resting lightly against his thigh. One look into the pale grey eyes would be enough to dispel any hint of amusement. Hirshall was a man on a mission. He was a lawman, and he meant business.<\/p>\n

He and Joe pulled their horses up outside Maryanne\u2019s house, and Hirshall looked all around. \u201cGuess we ain\u2019t gonna pick up no tracks on this here road.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe Cartwright was approaching despair. Looming over him, he could feel the full weight of his father\u2019s rage. \u201cWe don\u2019t even know which way she went!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall cocked an eye at him; \u201cWell, guess we know which ways she di\u2019n\u2019t go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe sure di\u2019n\u2019t go through town or I\u2019d a seen her. Couldn\u2019t miss no fancy horse like that. An\u2019 she sure didn\u2019t go east. Ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 but a whole lot a rocks out that way.\u201d He sat a bit, and pondered the remaining alternatives. \u201cC\u2019mon, boy.\u201d he squinted up at the sky as he turned the roan\u2019s head towards the west. \u201cGuess it\u2019s gonna rain \u2018bout the same time as it gets dark. That gives us about an hour ta pick something up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe nudged his mare alongside. \u201cWhy this way?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou jist trust me, boy. An\u2019 keep that pistol o\u2019 yours handy. When we catch up with this fella, he\u2019s gonna be a desperate man. Horse stealin\u2019 is still a hangin offence around these parts.\u201d Hirshall kicked the big roan on, and Joe\u2019s shorter legged mare was suddenly hard put to to keep up.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mrs. Drury called Ben and Joe to take their places at the little table in the kitchen area. It was all spread with an elaborate white damask cloth, obviously a much-treasured heirloom and the woman\u2019s prized possession, and set with a selection of cream-ware china pieces that almost matched. She had removed her apron and tidied her hair. Joe had dressed in his other shirt and looked smarter than Ben had yet seen him. Ben took off his coat so that he could sit at table in white shirtsleeves, waistcoat and silk string tie.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you be good enough to say the grace for us, Mister Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben clasped his hands and lowered his eyes, calling down the blessing of his Lord upon the food and those gathered together to share it. He spared a small thought for another little group of people who would be sitting down together about now in another house far away ~ his own much loved family.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Drury served a very creditable beef stew with carrots and onions, well padded out with lentils. If the portions were meagre in comparison with Ben\u2019s own table, they were sufficient eaten with plain, boiled potatoes and chunks of fresh bread. Ben noticed that Joe ate like a starving man set before a feast, and he guessed that the boy didn\u2019t see a meal like this that often.<\/p>\n

He sat back, finally, with a big smile on his face. \u201cThat was a fine meal, Mrs. Drury, and I thank you for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman\u2019s face glowed at the praise. \u201cWhy thank you, Mister Cartwright. After all you did to help Joe, it was the least I could do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s Joe we have to talk about, Mrs. Drury.\u201d Ben shot the boy a stern glance and saw his face colour. \u201cJoe\u2019s almost a man now, and it\u2019s time he decided what he\u2019s going to do to earn himself a living.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it.\u201d Mrs. Drury gazed at her son with worried eyes. \u201cI\u2019m sure I don\u2019t know what\u2019s to become of him. It\u2019s a life of crime he\u2019s headed for, an\u2019 that\u2019s a fact, without no Pa ta take him in hand.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben was carefully avoiding mentioning the boy\u2019s lack of a father, having noticed that Mrs. Drury wore no wedding ring. He sipped at his after dinner coffee.<\/p>\n

Joe\u2019s ears had turned scarlet, and he squirmed in his chair. \u201cI ain\u2019t gonna do no more wrong things.\u201d He insisted sulkily. \u201cI promised Mister Cartwright, an\u2019 I promised the Sergeant down at the Police Station.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAn\u2019 you\u2019ve promised me before.\u201d His mother said, sharply.<\/p>\n

Joe pouted.<\/p>\n

Ben looked from one to the other. \u201cWhat Joe needs is a proper job, Mrs. Drury. A man needs to work, both for his own self respect, and so that he can earn his own living, and pay his own way.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Drury shook her head sadly. \u201cI hear what you\u2019re sayin\u2019 Mister Cartwright, but who\u2019s goin\u2019 ta give Joe a job? He can\u2019t do nothin\u2019. I never could afford to send him to no school, an\u2019 I couldn\u2019t teach him myself \u2018cause\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She left the sentence unfinished, and Ben didn\u2019t press her. He already knew the reason.<\/p>\n

Ben frowned into his coffee. It was time, he guessed, to bite down on the bullet and make the decision that was becoming more and more, inevitable. He knew that he hadn\u2019t given this nearly enough thought, nor had he consulted with the other people who\u2019s lives were bound to be affected, but Ben had lived his whole life making decisions, and he could feel the hand of fate moving strongly in this. Right or wrong, this was another one to put on the list on Judgement Day.<\/p>\n

\u201cMrs. Drury,\u201d he said slowly and seriously, looking up at her from beneath his dark brows, \u201chow would it be if I took Joe to work for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a silence around the little kitchen table while mother and son absorbed what he\u2019d said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have a ranch south of here, almost into the Sierras. I can always use hands. We can teach Joe to ride and rope and brand and drive cattle. And, if he\u2019s willing,\u201d he turned his eyes on the boy, \u201cwe can help him learn to read and write and figure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Drury\u2019s eyes flickered back and forth between Ben\u2019s face and her son\u2019s. Ben could almost hear her mind working. He hoped she was as intelligent a woman as he thought.<\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t let him down. \u201cThat\u2019s a right kind offer you make, Mister Cartwright, an\u2019 I thank you for it. But it has to be Joe that decides.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe Drury looked about full enough to burst. Half a hundred thoughts were tumbling around inside his head, and he couldn\u2019t make up his mind which one to voice first. The one that burst out ahead off the others gave Ben the measure of the man to come. \u201cThat means I\u2019ll have to go away and leave you all alone, Ma!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you worry none about me, Joe,\u201d The woman said, steadily. \u201cI\u2019ll manage just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen you get your pay, you can send money home to your mother,\u201d Ben explained. \u201cAnd the Ponderosa isn\u2019t so far away. You\u2019ll be able to ride home once in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy\u2019s green and gold eyes were starting to shine as a whole new vision of the future opened up in front of him. It was an amazing transformation, and Ben felt he was getting part of his reward right there and then, just to be there to see it.<\/p>\n

Ben looked at the woman and was delighted to see that she was smiling.<\/p>\n

He fished in his pants pocket and pulled out one of the fancy little embossed cards that Adam had got printed up for him. He gave it to Joe. \u201cThere\u2019s a man named Kingdom Jones runs a freight line all over this side of the State. When you\u2019re good, and ready, you hitch a ride with one of his drivers to Virginia City and show this card to anyone in town. They\u2019ll know where to find me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe ran his fingers over the raised up writing that he could not read. His face was glowing.<\/p>\n

Ben stood up, and reached for his coat. \u201cMrs. Drury, doubtless there are things that you and the boy need\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Helen Drury drew back with a shake of the head. \u201cI won\u2019t be taking your money, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben hesitated. \u201cYou could look on it as an advance against Joe\u2019s wages.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re taking Joe to your fine ranch, an\u2019 giving him a trade, an\u2019 teachin\u2019 him all the things that I can\u2019t teach him. It\u2019s enough, and more than I can ever repay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben nodded, accepting her decision. The woman had her own fierce pride, and he wasn\u2019t about to take it from her.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The storm, having done the worst that it could do, had blown over. The clouds had broken up and the rain almost stopped. The horse arrived, finally, at the bottom of the down slope and landed on all four feet with a jolt that rattled Hoss\u2019s sore bones. He groaned aloud and clamped a hand to his aching face. The swelling had become huge and it was throbbing in time with his heartbeat.<\/p>\n

He circled the horse looking at the tracks in the wet ground. For the first time that day it looked as if luck had been on his side. Still running, the little herd had turned south west, towards the lower pastures and the feeding stations that would keep them alive through the winter.<\/p>\n

He debated momentarily going after them and making sure they went all the way down, but cattle, although generally stupid animals, were gregarious and they would gravitate naturally towards their own kind. Hoss had the satisfaction of knowing that, by the time it started snowing, they would all be safely right where he wanted them to be.<\/p>\n

He took a long chug from the whisky left in the bottle and swallowed it down. It re-ignited the fire in his belly and sang its siren song through his veins. He turned his horse\u2019s head towards distant home and urged it on ahead.<\/p>\n

6:00 pm<\/p>\n

Hop Sing was waiting on the front Porch of Ben Cartwright\u2019s house when Paul Martin pulled his buggy horse to a stop. Paul was not really surprised. He had know the little Chinese cook for years, ever since Ben and his then wife, Marie, had brought him home with them from a trip to San Francisco. Apart from occasional, long, unexplained absences, he had moved in with them permanently and taken over the running of their household. Paul knew, through any number of previous encounters, that the Chinaman had a sixth sense when it came to people\u2019s comings and goings.<\/p>\n

Paul picked his bag off the buggy seat and started towards the house. \u201cHello there, Hop Sing. How\u2019s it going?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing smiled and bobbed a bow, but, as always, his face gave nothing away. \u201cHop Sing very glad you come, Missa Paul. Missy Jenny have baby soon. Need doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s about what I heard.\u201d Paul parked his hat on the sideboard. \u201cWhere is she?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny Cartwright was lying in bed half propped up on a pile of pillows. She was pale and frightened, but a relieved look came to her face as Paul entered the room. Paul put on his best, friendly, family-doctor type smile. \u201cHello, Jenny. Decided to start without me, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny managed a small smile at the joke. \u201cI thought I\u2019d see how far I could get on my own.\u201d she said, and then her eyes darkened and she bit down on her lip as another wave of pain began.<\/p>\n

Paul took off his coat and washed his hands in the basin, drying them well on the towel Hop Sing handed him. He turned towards the bed and bowed to the woman who lay there. \u201cIf you will forgive me…\u201d He drew back the sheet.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Adam tightened the cinch a notch and reached for the stirrup iron. Mozart rolled an eye at him, laying back one ear. Adam braced himself and climbed stiffly into the saddle. He hoped against hope that the horse wasn\u2019t in the mood for another fight. He could feel the muscles bunching up under the red hide.<\/p>\n

Mozart waited until he was in mid air and squatted, putting his head down between his knees. Adam went forward in a hurry and had to grab onto the mane with both hands to avoid going right over the red horse\u2019s head. The saddle horn dug hard into his belly ~ right where it hurt the most. Adam gasped and lost one of the reins.<\/p>\n

Overhead in the darkening sky, the gathering thunderclouds rumbled a warning. Mozart whinnied a response. The storm that had rained on Hoss now started to rain on Adam.<\/p>\n

Mozart didn\u2019t like thunder, and he didn\u2019t like the cold rain falling on his broad rump. He kicked out at it with both hind feet, all but tipping Adam over his head again, and then jumped up with both forefeet into a rear that sent Ben\u2019s eldest sliding back the other way.<\/p>\n

Adam managed to catch the flying rein and pulled the horse into a tight circle. Once Mozart was pointed more or less in the direction of Virginia City, he let go. The horse picked up pace, and the storm broke in earnest. Adam discovered another alarming fact. He was sitting astride a horse that shied at raindrops.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hoss held up the bottle to the fading light and gazed at it disconsolately. He had drunk down the last of the whisky, and the bottle was quite empty. With a sigh he tucked it back into his saddlebag. It wouldn\u2019t do to leave broken glass in the woods.<\/p>\n

He was travelling downhill now, through the woodlands, headed for home. The daylight was fading fast as the sun went down behind the mountains. Here among the trees it was already dark. Trunks loomed at him out of deepening shadows. Tree roots lay hidden across the trail to trip the unwary hoof. Hoss kept the horse\u2019s pace right down to give them both a chance to see where they were going.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d had one God-awful day. He was looking forward to getting home to the warm comfort of the ranch house and getting something good to eat from Hop Sing\u2019s kitchen. After a sketchy breakfast and nothing all day, he was getting so hungry he had a hollow pain right behind his belt buckle. At the thought of food his stomach rumbled like thunder, and the sour taste of stale whisky rose like bitter bile into his throat. He just hoped the danged tooth would ease off long enough for him to eat something.<\/p>\n

The black horse\u2019s head came up as he smelled something strange and frightening on the wind. He snorted and began to dance on the path, refusing point blank to go any further.<\/p>\n

His mind firmly on food, Hoss uttered a cuss word and kicked him on. The horse rolled his eyes and laid back his ears. The smell was stronger now, the source of the terror closer. The horse\u2019s nostrils flared. He threw up his head and whinnied his fear.<\/p>\n

Hoss was frantically scanning the woodlands for the reason for the animal\u2019s distress. \u201cGol-darn-it! What is it, fella?\u201d He brought his heels back into the horse\u2019s flanks.<\/p>\n

At that same moment both the horse and Hoss saw the shape of the varmint, black on black in the darkness underneath the trees.<\/p>\n

Hoss stared, trying to catch another glimpse, not quite believing what he had seen the first time.<\/p>\n

The horse needed no second look. He screamed, reared, bucked and bolted, catching Hoss completely by surprise and hurling him from the saddle to land face first among the tree roots. Reins and stirrups flying, the horse disappeared along the trail in a flat run. The rattle of its hooves was the last thing Hoss heard as he sank into unconsciousness.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ben leaned forward and spread both his large hands flat on the reception desk top of the Windsor Castle Hotel. The elder Cartwright glared with all the barely contained ferocity that he could generate.<\/p>\n

To give him his due, the counter clerk refused to be intimidated. It was a different man this time, but he had the same supercilious expression,<\/p>\n

The same could not be said for the clientele of the hotel that crowded the lobby. They were cowering back from the big rancher with expressions that ranged from alarm, through terror to absolute awe. As any one of his sons would have witnessed, Ben Cartwright in a towering rage was an experience to be reckoned with.<\/p>\n

\u201cSir,\u201d the counter clerk said with remarkable composure. \u201cI really do not know to what packages you refer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben drew a deep breath and started over ~ in something just short of a bellow, \u201cI left my parcels. Here. At lunchtime. And now I want them back!\u201d<\/p>\n

A smaller, dapper man stepped forward, waving the counter clerk aside. \u201cI am the floor manager, sir. Can I be of assistance?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s dark, angry eyes switched to him. \u201cWell, I certainly hope so! I left my parcels at lunch time! Here!\u201d<\/p>\n

The manager smiled a small smile and leaned forward, confidentially, across the counter. \u201cSo I heard you say, sir. Could you tell me, please, exactly what the counter clerk did with your parcels?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s voice lowered in response to the man\u2019s intimacy, but only a little; \u201cHe put them down there, under the counter someplace. And now I want them back!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh!\u201d The manager said, as if that meant something. \u201cIf you would be kind enough to wait just a moment, I shall inquire.\u201d<\/p>\n

Quietened if not mollified, Ben watched him retreat into the offices behind the desk. The counter clerk eyed him from the far end of the counter. Ben glared back. He looked round him and found no one willing to meet his eyes. He waited. He grew impatient. He fumed. He leaned over the counter and drew another breath to bellow.<\/p>\n

The little manager re-emerged from the back room, and, by some miracle, he was clutching Ben\u2019s half dozen little paper packages. Some of them, to be sure, looked just a little the worse for wear, but they were intact, and Ben was very glad to see them. The manager handed them over with a smile. There was no way, this side of creation, that he was going to tell this big man with the big voice that he had just rescued his precious possessions from the trash.<\/p>\n

His arms filled up again, Ben made his way back towards the livery stable to collect his horse. The sun had set, and it was going to be a long ride home in the dark.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Joe Cartwright looked anxiously at the sky. The brassy overcast had deepened to copper and then to red and away to the west, the edge of a distant storm was blowing in his direction. He figured that what Ossy had said was right: the dark and the storm would arrive just about together.<\/p>\n

The desert country all looked the same to him, rolling hills covered with scrub pine and brush and rocks, but Hirshall seemed to know his way about. The lawman was following some sort of trail, but Joe was just plain jiggered if he knew what it was. Every so often, Hirshall would lean down a long way out of his saddle and study the sign in the dirt. Just as frequently he would lift his head and sniff at the air, almost as if he could scent something on the breeze that was starting to blow in, cool, from the storm front. And again, sometimes he would just sit up straight in his saddle and listen to the silence of the wilderness.<\/p>\n

Joe didn\u2019t like to intrude, but he was starting to get really worried and not a little frightened. He was beginning to wonder just how he was going to explain to his Pa how he had come to lose the horse and even if he was going to dare go home at all. He looked anxiously at Hirshall. The lawman made a gesture for silence. His eyes were focussed somewhere off in the deepening gloom. It was as if he heard something, but to Joe, the silence of the desert was complete.<\/p>\n

Hirshall\u2019s horse flicked an ear, and Hirshall nodded as if in some sort of silent communication with the animal. Hirshall gestured to Joe, and they moved on, the hooves of their horses making almost no sound at all on the stony ground.<\/p>\n

The storm front was drawing closer all the time. Joe could see lightening now, flickering here and there in the leading edge of the cloud mass. He wondered if, by the time the storm reached this far out in the desert, there would be any rain left to fall or if it would have become a spectacular, and doubly dangerous, dry electrical storm.<\/p>\n

Hirshall stopped, listening again, and Joe listened too. He thought he might hear the distant grumble of thunder, but instead, although for second he didn\u2019t believe it, he heard voices. They were loud, shrill children\u2019s voices some way off to the west. He looked at Hirshall, but no expression showed on the tall lawman\u2019s face. Instead, he gestured to Joe to follow, but quietly.<\/p>\n

They followed the sound of the voices and rode side by side over the shoulder of the next hill.<\/p>\n

There, in a dry draw, was the bay quarter horse. Lined up on her bare back for all the world like three little monkeys, were three small boys. They were the same three boys that had pelted Joe with stones earlier that day.<\/p>\n

Joe looked across at Hirshall. \u201cGuess you won\u2019t be hangin\u2019 any horse thieves today, Ossy,\u201d he grinned. Relief was making his heart sing. The quarter horse was safe!<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe not,\u201d Hirshall said gruffly. \u201cBut we\u2019ll sure be tannin\u2019 the hide offa some.\u201d<\/p>\n

They started down the hill towards the boys and the horse. The boys looked up and saw them. Their surprise and alarm communicated itself directly to the quarter horse. She pawed the air and the boys slid off backwards, one by one, and landed hard on their butts in the dirt. The mare shied away from them.<\/p>\n

Osimire Hirshall sat his saddle and gazed down at the three children, \u201cGuess you boys know what you got comin\u2019 ta ya,\u201d he said laconically. \u201cFirst off, you got one hell\u2019ve a long walk back ta town, an\u2019 then I guess yore Pa\u2019s are gonna\u2019 have somethin\u2019 ta say about you stealin\u2019 this man\u2019s horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

The youngest of the three had started snivelling. The eldest stood defiantly rubbing his butt.\u201cWe di\u2019n\u2019t do no harm, Mister Hirshall. We was just borrowin\u2019 the horse a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat don\u2019t make no never mind.\u201d Hirshall was implacable. \u201cFirst ya walk, then ya bend.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe was so relieved to get his mare back that he was feeling generous. \u201cDon\u2019t be too hard on them, Ossy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall\u2019s face turned towards him, and Joe saw his mouth open for some rejoinder. It never got said. As Joe reached for the mare\u2019s lead rope the electrical storm let rip with one almighty crack of thunder, right overhead.<\/p>\n

The bay quarter horse gave a shrill squeal, and she ran.<\/p>\n

Joe, and Ossy, and the three small boys all looked after her in open-mouthed amazement.<\/p>\n

It was Hirshall that recovered first. \u201cWell,\u201d he said into the sudden quiet. \u201cGuess that critter sure is the fastest thing I ever seed on four legs.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe swung the pinto round; \u201cI gotta get my horse! Be seeing you, Ossy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hirshall raised his hand in farewell as Joe thundered off in pursuit of the mare. \u201cGood luck to you, Joe Cartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n

7:00 pm<\/p>\n

It was Joe\u2019s understanding of the term that a quarter horse would cover about a quarter of a mile of territory, on level ground, at absolute, flat out, top speed before running out of steam. He had followed after this one for more than two miles, up and down hills, around rocks and through thorn thickets, in the dark, and he hadn\u2019t caught up with her yet.<\/p>\n

The storm front had passed on through, fading, having delivered just enough rain to soak Joe and the pinto mare through to the skin. It had left the desert dark and cool beneath an overcast sky. Joe found himself repeating over and over in his mind a line from one of his elder brother\u2019s best loved books, \u2018A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!\u201d One particular horse!<\/p>\n

Joe wasn\u2019t about to give up, but he was starting to think the damn horse had run on just about forever when, from somewhere close by, she whickered softly to his own mare. The pinto answered.<\/p>\n

Then Joe saw her, dark on dark, against the bulk of the hillside. He had nearly ridden on right by her.<\/p>\n

He stepped out of the saddle and walked slowly towards her, holding out his hand and talking soft nonsense to her, hoping to goodness she wouldn\u2019t spook and take off again. He picked up the trailing lead rope, and the mare nuzzled at his hand. He fondled her soft ears and, for just a moment, laid his cheek against her neck. Then, painstakingly, he went over every last inch of her, including and especially, the precious legs.<\/p>\n

She was undamaged. Joe offered up a small prayer of gratitude and mounted the pinto mare.\u00a0 He turned her head for the road home.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The varmint sat sentinel among the dark dripping trees, not far from where Hoss lay unconscious on the muddy trail and pondered. Strange, soft creatures were they, these human kind, with dull teeth, and blunt fragile claws, ill equipped to survive. But they had a spark that invited investigation. This one had shown determination and perseverance and a certain sensitivity. The varmint sensed a soul that still had to be tested in fire. For this it was prepared to wait, but perhaps not for long. For an instant of time the woodlands flared in the glow of savage green eyes. As Hoss Cartwright started to stir the varmint turned on silent paws and padded away into the darkness.<\/p>\n

Hoss came to slowly. He was laying sprawled on his front in the mud of the trail with his face jammed hard up against a big, old, tree root. He started to get up and groaned aloud as all sorts of aches and pains assailed him. Coming off a horse headfirst in the dark was not the greatest thing he could have done for his health. He\u2019d cracked his ribs and his knees, and he\u2019d skinned the palm of one hand and the knuckles of the other.<\/p>\n

There was something foul in his mouth. Hoss sat up in the mud of the trail and spat out a whole mess of blood and pus and with it the rotted tooth that had been causing him so much torment for so long. He was left with a big hole in his gum that was still leaking blood, and it hurt like the devil but not with the same horrid, pulsing pain as before.<\/p>\n

Hoss climbed stiffly onto his feet and held on for a moment to a tree trunk to steady himself. He spat again to clear his mouth and peered round into the surrounding gloom. He had the distinct memory of something lurking out there in the trees. Something huge and black and vaguely feline, but there was no sign of anything unusual now. The trees dripped with a steadily slowing rhythm in the darkness and the soft rustling of the night creatures were returning. Whatever it was that he\u2019d seen, it was gone and had left no trace of its passing.<\/p>\n

Scowling, Hoss retrieved his battered hat and set off on the long walk home.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hop Sing dabbed Jenny\u2019s neck with rose cologne and gave her a sip of lemon water to drink. Then, at the doctors nod, he padded out of the room and closed the door softly behind him.<\/p>\n

Paul Martin smiled encouragement and placed a cool hand on the labouring woman\u2019s forehead. \u201cIt won\u2019t be long now, Jenny. It\u2019s almost over.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny rolled her head against the damp pillow and looked at him out of huge, almost luminous eyes. Her face was pale and damp and there were tight lines around her mouth. \u201cI\u2019m beginning to wonder,\u201d she said, \u201cwhy I ever started this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul chuckled dutifully at the joke he\u2019d heard many times before and moved away, turning so that she wouldn\u2019t see him rolling up his sleeves.<\/p>\n

The pain started up again, building in an insurmountable wave, and, for the umpteenth time, Jenny bore down hard. Her hands twisted the bed sheets into knots. She turned this way and that as she tried in vain to escape the agony. Something gave, and she screamed aloud; \u201cGod damn you, Ben Cartwright! God damn you and your sons all to hell!\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul Martin raised an eyebrow at her. \u201cYou\u2019re expecting another young man then?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny panted, looking at him from between her raised knees. She clenched her teeth as it began again. \u201cBen says. It\u2019s going to be. Another boy!\u201d<\/p>\n

On the final word, she heaved again and the last barrier broke. Paul Martin\u2019s expert hands caught the latest addition to the Cartwright clan as it slithered free. Jenny\u2019s body began to tremble with reaction.<\/p>\n

The baby didn\u2019t need the traditional slap. It entered the world red and wet and yelling. Paul looked where it mattered. \u201cI\u2019m glad to see Ben hasn\u2019t entirely lost his judgement,\u201d he said with a smile. \u201cYou have a new son.\u201d<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sheriff Roy Coffee leaned on the porch post outside his office and watched Adam Cartwright ride back into town. At least, Roy reflected, Cartwright was still sitting up on top of that Goddamned big horse and wasn\u2019t sprawled out on the trail someplace with his fool neck broken. How come, he wondered, had a man with a whole personal remuda to pick from come to choose himself such a God-ornery horse to ride. Both of them looked bedraggled and battle scarred and soaked right through, and it still wasn\u2019t clear which of the two had the upper hand.<\/p>\n

Adam rode the horse right up to the gaol house and pulled him up at the rail. As he swung his leg over to dismount the horse stepped away and left him hopping on one foot with the other caught in the stirrup iron.<\/p>\n

Roy politely looked away as Adam floundered for his balance and reflected that perhaps it was a good thing that here in the west, it was considered ill manners to comment on the way another man handled his horse.<\/p>\n

Adam finally got the horse hitched to the rail and caught his breath; \u201cHowdy, Roy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdam.\u201d Roy nodded, and looked him over. The worse for wear, he decided, but essentially undamaged. \u201cYou catch up with Paul?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam nodded. \u201cHe should be out to the ranch by now. I had to go on to the Schultze\u2019s. Old Georges Schultze died this afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m real sorry ta hear that.\u201d Roy frowned and sighed. \u201cGuess we all bin expectin\u2019 it. I\u2019ll get a couple o\u2019 men ta ride out tomorrow an\u2019 take care o\u2019 things fer Mrs. Schultze.\u201d He looked at Adam again, critically. \u201cYou sure don\u2019t look your best. You stayin\u2019 in town tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess not.\u201d Adam stretched his shoulders. He had some muscles stiffening up there somewhere. \u201cPa\u2019ll probably be wondering where his horse is.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roy chuckled; \u201cI didn\u2019t think you were supposed ta be climbing up on no horse fer a good while yet?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam took a long breath; \u201cI guess that\u2019s another thing I\u2019m gonna have to explain to Pa.\u201d He gave the sheriff a rueful look. \u201cYou know something, Roy? Before I go home, and face up to my Pa, I\u2019m gonna get me a beer.\u201d He touched his hat and walked off ~ in some discomfort, Roy thought ~ towards the Silver Dollar saloon. The sheriff shook his head with something akin to wonder. Sometimes, he thought Adam Cartwright must be about thirty something ~ going on seven.<\/p>\n

8:00 pm<\/p>\n

Adam bellied up to the long bar. \u201cMake it a beer, Sam.\u201d He threw some money on the counter and turned to survey the room. The place was filling up fast with the usual drab mix of miners and ranch hands and store clerks. Someone was playing the piano in the corner, the music all but drowned out by the rising tide of voices. Over against the back wall several of the regular poker games were just getting started.<\/p>\n

A number of the saloon girls were already downstairs, working their way steadily through the crowd. One of them was a lady of Adam\u2019s recent acquaintance. He had known her for a while before his illness, and they had enjoyed an increasingly intimate relationship until he had been shot. Her name was Mirri, and he kind of liked her company. He caught her eye and grinned.<\/p>\n

She saw his smile and returned it with one of her own. Adam Cartwright was a man any woman would find attractive. He was tall and broad with a pleasant face and deep set, hooded eyes. She had pleasant memories of hours spent in his arms. She slipped off the lap of the miner she was with, kissed him teasingly on the tip of his nose and sauntered over to the bar to renew the friendship.<\/p>\n

The miner glowered darkly after her until his friend distracted him, then went back to his beer.<\/p>\n

Mirri couldn\u2019t help notice that Adam didn\u2019t look well. He\u2019d lost some weight since she\u2019d last seen him, and the lines of his fine face had hardened. She\u2019d heard that he had been shot.<\/p>\n

Concerned, she sidled up to him. \u201cI haven\u2019t seen you in here for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI haven\u2019t been in for a while.\u201d As she recalled, his voice was educated and had a pleasant, mellow tone. Clothed all in black from the toes of his boots to the gun on his hip to the hat he wore, he looked long and lean and somehow dangerous. His clothes were dirty and stained, and he had a fresh stubble of beard darkening his face. As she got closer she could smell the sweat on him and the rank smell of horse. She didn\u2019t mind. In fact, it excited her. Most of the men she met were dirty and sweaty.<\/p>\n

With her smile and the sway of her hips she flirted with him, sidling up and letting her hip brush lightly against his. \u201cBuy me a drink, Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Adam gestured to the bartender, who brought over a bottle and a shot glass. Adam put a dollar on the bar and poured whiskey into the glass. He pushed the glass towards her and looked her over.<\/p>\n

She was quite small. The top of her head came just level with his chin.\u00a0 Young and naturally fair, she was pretty under the saloon girl paint. She wore a yellow dress with very short sleeves and a low, low neckline. A red flower was tucked into her cleavage.<\/p>\n

She sipped at the whiskey and put the glass back on the bar. She didn\u2019t really want the drink. It was the dark bulk of the man beside her that allured her. She remembered the almost frightening maleness of him. The body under the dark clothes was as good as it looked, and he knew how to use himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard you were sick. I sure hope you\u2019re feeling better now.\u201d She looked up at him coyly from under her eyelids and then put a thin-fingered hand on his arm, squeezing, feeling the bunched muscles under the fabric of his shirt. They were as firm and powerful as ever. She touched the tip of her tongue to her lip.<\/p>\n

Adam looked down at her with interest, something kindling in the depths of his eyes. She smiled an invitation.<\/p>\n

All of a sudden, Adam wasn\u2019t tired any more.<\/p>\n

\u201cMirri,\u201d he said softly, \u201cI think I just started to feel a whole lot better.\u201d<\/p>\n

He touched her arm with just the tips of his fingers and, when she didn\u2019t draw away, slipped his hand slowly up to her shoulder. She shivered and moved closer to him, into the circle of his arms. He drew her in to his chest, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart. He let his fingers trace lightly down the lines of her back to rest at her waist.<\/p>\n

Mirri reached up, putting her arms round his neck. For a moment they were both oblivious to the looks and the nudges of the other customers around.<\/p>\n

She drew his head down so that, standing on tiptoe, she could whisper into his ear, \u201cWhy don\u2019t you come on upstairs and show me how much better you\u2019re feeling?\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam half closed his eyes and breathed in her perfume. He wanted this woman. In fact, he wanted her real bad. His body was hungering for her. Perhaps it was time for a man to get back into the saddle in more ways than one.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t I do that?\u201d he murmured, his voice already husky.<\/p>\n

She took him by the hand and, to the cheers of some of the nearby cowhands, led him upstairs.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Ben rode into to the front yard of his house to find, for the second time that year, the doctor\u2019s buggy parked outside the front door.<\/p>\n

The house was lit up like a beacon in the night. It looked as if every lamp the family possessed had been lit and put in the front windows. Ben stepped down and threw the reins of his horse over the rail.<\/p>\n

The front door opened at his touch but there was no one in the big room. Ben dumped his hat and saddlebags on the sideboard and stepped in to the room. He filled his lungs and anxiety made him bellow, \u201cJenny! Adam! Hop Sing!\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a moment of silence. Then, with a babble of incomprehensible Chinese, Hop Sing erupted from the kitchen. Ben raised his hands and backed off, increasingly alarmed by the Chinaman\u2019s excitement, the torrent of language and the prolonged, unexplained absence of his family.<\/p>\n

\u201cSlow down, Hop Sing. Slow down!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing bobbed and bowed, and Ben came to realise that the ageless Chinese face was wreathed in smiles.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me what\u2019s happened,\u201d he ordered. \u201cIn English!\u201d<\/p>\n

Hop Sing bobbed again and a few understandable words finally emerged, \u201cDoctor here. Missa\u00a0 Adam fetch.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben\u2019s big voice boomed, \u201cI can see the doctor\u2019s here! Where is he? Where\u2019s my wife? And where\u2019s Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMissa Adam not come home yet. Missa Paul with Missy Jenny. Missy Jenny have brand new baby.\u201d Hop Sing\u2019s grin split his face in two.<\/p>\n

Ben stared at him. \u201cJenny\u2019s had the baby? Already? Is she all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s just fine, Ben.\u201d Paul Martin closed the door of the downstairs bedroom behind him and came on into the room. \u201cShe\u2019s tired, but you\u2019ll be able to see her for a few minutes soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben studied the doctor\u2019s face. \u201cAnd my son?\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul Martin smiled. \u201cYour son is doing well\u201d<\/p>\n

9:00pm<\/p>\n

Adam came out of the saloon with a big silly smile on his face. Tucked into the band of his hat was a red flower. He felt more of a man now, than he had for a good long time. In truth, his over eager body had betrayed him somewhat. His time with Mirri had been over much more quickly than he would have liked. But she had been soft and sweet and she hadn\u2019t said a word about the scar on his belly. There would be other nights. In fact, now that he was well again, he might make a point of coming into town more often.<\/p>\n

The rain had stopped, but the sky was still overcast and starless. Beyond the light that spilled out from the saloon, the night was very dark. He had a long ride home still in front of him. Resignedly he turned his steps towards where Mozart fretted at the rail.<\/p>\n

Joe rode into the front yard, and found his work cut out for him. Not only was the house all lit up like a Lousiana riverboat but his Pa\u2019s horse was standing outside, untended. Joe collected it from the rail and led all three animals into the barn. There he found Hoss\u2019s black cutting horse standing untied and still saddled in its stall.<\/p>\n

Joe saw to the needs of all four of the tired animals before heading for the house, but, by the time he got there, his temper was distinctly frayed around the edges.<\/p>\n

He boiled through the front door all set to give someone hell only to find Hop Sing and his father, beaming all over their faces and sipping at the best brandy. Ben turned to him. \u201cJoe! Come on in, son, and have a drink. We have a new baby in the house!\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe forgot about how cross he was. \u201cA baby! But when… How?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben raised an eyebrow at him. \u201cI thought I explained all that to you once.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe blushed furiously, and Ben laughed, pouring him a drink.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you seen Hoss? Or Adam?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHoss\u2019s horse was in the barn.\u201d Joe took the glass, a big smile now on his own face, and admired the colour of the liquor. \u201cBut I haven\u2019t seen him. Or Adam. Mozart\u2019s gone from the corral.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMozart\u2019s gone?\u201d Ben stared at him, sobered, alarm bells starting to ring in his head. \u201cAdam went to fetch the doctor for Jenny. Are you telling me he rode out of here on Mozart?\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe stared back. \u201cWell, I guess so.\u201d<\/p>\n

The front door opened, and Hoss walked in, looking very much the worse for wear. His clothes were all muddied and torn and there were bruises and scratches all over his face and hands. He smelled, quite strongly, of whisky.<\/p>\n

Paul Martin emerged from Jenny\u2019s room and pulled up short at the sight of him. \u201cWhat ever happened to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked embarrassed. \u201cI fell off my horse is all. Knocked my danged tooth out.\u201d He put a hand up to the side of his face and felt the sore spot.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey,\u201d Joe said, \u201cThat the tooth that was givin\u2019 you all that trouble this mornin\u2019? The one with the tooth rot?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t have no tooth rot!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBetter let me take a look at it.\u201d Paul Martin craned up to get a look in Hoss\u2019s mouth. He pulled a sour face. \u201cI\u2019ll give you some packing to put in that hole. But you sure been eatin\u2019 too many o\u2019 them candies.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss looked tearful. \u201cI don\u2019t eat hardly no candies!\u201d<\/p>\n

Paul rummaged in his bag, and came up with some wadding. He handed it over to Hoss. \u201cWell, Ben. I gotta be goin\u2019 now. You can go in an\u2019 see your wife any time. She\u2019s waitin\u2019 on you.\u201d He picked up his hat. \u201cAnd thank you for the cigar.\u201d At the door he turned back, \u201cEr, Ben, first thing tomorrow, you really ought to take that big boy of yours in to see that new tooth doctor we got. He\u2019s got a whole face full o\u2019 tooth rot comin\u2019 on.\u201d<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The room had been aired and the linen changed and over on the dresser Hop Sing had lighted a perfumed candle. The lamplight cast gentle shadows, and on the carpeted floor Ben\u2019s feet made no sound at all.<\/p>\n

Jenny\u2019s dark hair had been brushed out and tied with ribbon and it lay in a soft hank across her shoulder. Her face was as pale as the pillow she lay against, and her eyes were closed.<\/p>\n

At first, Ben thought she was sleeping but, as he came near, the beautiful sea green eyes opened, and she smiled him a tired smile. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and took both her hands into his. They looked white and tiny in comparison. He lifted them to his lips and kissed each of them in turn. \u201cJenny, my love…\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben walked over to the crib and picked the child up. Even after all the years, his big rancher\u2019s hands had not forgotten how. The white wrapped bundle fitted perfectly into the crook of his arm. He carried it back to the bed and sat down again beside his wife. He gazed for the first time into the tiny face. The baby had a dark shadow over its head, promising a mop of raven black hair to come. The eyes that opened and looked gravely back at him were as dark as a starless night ~ his own midnight-dark eyes.<\/p>\n

The baby gave his father a long hard scrutiny, then screwed up his face and yawned, before going back to sleep.<\/p>\n

Ben looked at Jenny, entranced. \u201cHe\u2019s beautiful. Perfect. How can I thank you?\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled back at him, happy that he was happy.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat shall you call him?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought, John, for my father, and for your brother. But for a first name, Ben, you choose. Something from the Good Book\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben looked at the baby\u2019s face again. \u201cDavid,\u201d he said. \u201cWho slew Goliath with a stone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny pulled a face. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t look much like a David to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben considered. \u201cDaniel, then. Who went forth into the lion\u2019s den, and was not afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jenny smiled. \u201cNow that sounds more like a Cartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n

10:00 pm<\/p>\n

Joe and Hoss took their coffee and sat down in the armchairs on either side of the fireplace. Joe had a sandwich of roast pork and a huge slice of pie, which Hoss eyed enviously. His mouth was still too sore for him to eat anything. Beside which, he had the threat of a visit to the tooth doctor hanging over his head and that was enough to steal any man\u2019s appetite away.<\/p>\n

Joe was gazing at his brother with amusement sparkling brightly in his hazel eyes. \u201cTell me again what is was you think you saw?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hoss heaved a sigh. \u201cI didn\u2019t think I saw nothin\u2019. I know darn well what I saw.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell tell me! Tell me what is was!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was sort \u2018a big. An\u2019 it was black. An\u2019 it was sort \u2018a like a cat, only it weren\u2019t no cat. It was somethin\u2019 different. Like somethin\u2019 I ain\u2019t never seen \u2018afore.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure you hadn\u2019t taken one too many pulls out \u2018a that whiskey bottle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tell ya, I wasn\u2019t drunk!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey Pa,\u201d Joe looked up in delight as his father crossed the room.\u201cYou hear this? You hear what Hoss thinks he saw?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI tell you, I saw it, Little Joe!\u201d Hoss pouted, and looked towards his father. \u201cWhat d\u2019you reckon it might \u2018a\u2019 been, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, son.\u201d Ben shook his head, laughing. \u201cBut from what you say, its sounds like you just might\u2019ve seen the varmint.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clutching at his stomach, Joe collapsed into helpless giggles on the floor and kicked his legs about in the air. The thought of his big brother thinking that he had actually seen the myth of childhood fairy tale was too much to be borne.<\/p>\n

Ben took down the family Bible from its place on the shelf, and laid it carefully on his desk. Sitting, he opened it at the first page. There, carefully inscribed on the flyleaf, were the highs and the lows of his life. The simple lines stirred a thousand memories: the joys and grief, the marriages, the births and deaths. He ran the tip of his fingers lovingly over the scripted names: Elizabeth and Adam, Inger and Eric, Marie and Joseph ~ and Jenny.<\/p>\n

He picked up his pen, and, in his beautiful flowing hand, he wrote in the date and added the new name. Daniel John Cartwright.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Three miles from home, Adam pulled Mozart up for one last blow. He had come to the conclusion that this horse never liked to go anywhere at less than a full-blown gallop. Even now, after all the miles they\u2019d covered, the big stallion was still fighting for his head.<\/p>\n

Adam had to admit that he had developed a grudging admiration for the horse. He had already decided that later, when he felt less weary and when his Pa finally let him out of the house again, he would help the horse learn some better manners. And he might even have second thoughts about that gelding knife.<\/p>\n

*******<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hop Sing slipped into the room very quietly and closed the door behind him. The lamp was turned way down low, and the room was full of shadows. The little Chinaman knew this house so well he could find his way about without any light at all.<\/p>\n

Missy Jenny was sleeping, a little more colour in her cheeks now, her dark lashes were like butterfly wings on her cheeks. Hop Sing smiled.<\/p>\n

Silently, he padded across the room to where the crib stood. The baby was sleeping as well, its little fists clenched tightly on either side of its face.<\/p>\n

Hop Sing bobbed a bow to the tiny child and uttered, very quietly with his lips, but cried aloud to his gods by his heart, the traditional Chinese blessing upon the newborn: the eyes of a dragon to see with, the heart of a dragon to love with, the soul of a dragon to live with.<\/p>\n

Another bow and Hop Sing pulled out the contents of the little white package sent to him just in time by his cousin in Silver City. He hung it, by its chain, from the knob at the end of the crib. Thrice blessed, in oil and fire and blood, it was an intricately wrought, perfectly formed, tiny Chinese dragon with little green stones for eyes and a larger emerald clasped in its talons, a guardian to watch over the babe.<\/p>\n

11:00 pm<\/p>\n

Ben had gone out for a breath of fresh night air and was standing just outside his front door when Adam rode Mozart into the yard.<\/p>\n

The elder Cartwright\u2019s anxiety concerning his eldest son\u2019s whereabouts, his long absence and his mode of transportation, had been increasing exponentially. He had reached the point where he could no longer sit still but had taken to pacing the great room of the house, tramping back and forth before the fireplace. His imaginings had become darker as the hands on the clock had advanced. All he could see in his mind\u2019s eye was Adam ~ thrown and trampled, Adam ~ with his head cracked open, Adam ~ with the gaping wound in his body torn open again and killing him. The more fanciful the invention, the more agitated Ben had become.<\/p>\n

Now, seeing Adam ride in undamaged, Ben\u2019s concern turned at once into a towering rage. In hot fury he started for the barn to give his son a tongue-lashing he\u2019d not soon forget.<\/p>\n

Adam stepped out of the saddle more stiff and sore than he could ever remember. He ached from head to foot: arms, legs, back ~ even his neck ~ burned with fatigue. For a moment he clung to the saddle leathers and then, wearily, led Mozart into the barn.<\/p>\n

He took off the bridle and reached up to put a head-stall over Mozart\u2019s ears. The horse tried to bite him in the face. He undid the cinches and with a last effort of his long unused stomach muscles swung the heavy rig onto the stall wall. Somewhere inside him an adhesion tore free with a stab of knifelike pain. Adam gasped and stumbled back against the support post, bent over his much-abused gut.<\/p>\n

Ben came through the barn door with a rare profanity burning his lips. \u201cWhere the devil have you been?\u201d<\/p>\n

The sight of Adam with his face twisted in pain and his hands clenched to his belly, quenched the fires of anger instantly.\u00a0 He crossed the barn floor in just a few strides and got his arm around Adam\u2019s waist. \u201cAdam, are you all right, son? What is it? Lean on me.\u201d<\/p>\n

The pain was fading quickly now. Adam managed to straighten and answered in something approaching his normal voice. \u201cJust a twinge, Pa. It\u2019s easing. How\u2019s Jenny, the baby? I take it Paul got here in time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did. Adam, I\u2019d like to thank you for what you did. I ~ think I know what it cost you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam gave Mozart a final pat. \u201cJust don\u2019t make a habit of it, eh, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Of its own volition, the big smile started to come back to Ben\u2019s face. He put his arm round Adam\u2019s shoulders. \u201cCome on inside, son. And meet your new brother…\u201d<\/p>\n

Potters Bar 2000<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Author’s Choice<\/p>\n

Next Story in the Fourth Wife Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

A Gunfighting Man<\/a>
\nThe Measure of a Man<\/a>
\nFall into Darkness<\/a>
\nPeace on the Ponderosa<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Tags:<\/strong> Adam Cartwright, Ben Cartwright, Fourth Wife, Hoss Cartwright, Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

<\/g><\/svg><\/i> \"Loading\"<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: On his feet again after being shot, Adam finds his new stepmother ready to give birth, Hoss suffers a toothache, Ben pays a visit to Silver City and Joe finds trouble while trying to be a Good Samaritan.<\/p>\n

Rating:\u00a0 G (41,590 word)<\/p>\n

Fourth Wife Series, links to all stories of this series included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":9737,"featured_media":14045,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,23,1008],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12884","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-a-u","category-drama","category-family","wpcat-7-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-1008-id"],"a3_pvc":{"activated":true,"total_views":1928,"today_views":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/ETG-14.jpg?fit=687%2C544&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":37001,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=37001","url_meta":{"origin":12884,"position":0},"title":"A Cartwright’s Word is a Binding Oath (by Patina)","author":"patina","date":"August 16, 2021","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 An old friend requests the Cartwrights' help when vengeance comes calling Rating:\u00a0 T Word Count:\u00a0 4748","rel":"","context":"In "Action\/Adventure"","block_context":{"text":"Action\/Adventure","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=2"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/08\/Ponderosa-Paddlewheel-boat.jpg?fit=225%2C225&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":12918,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=12918","url_meta":{"origin":12884,"position":1},"title":"An Afterwork Conversation (by Jenny G)","author":"Gwynne & JennyG","date":"December 12, 2001","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 An unusual take on what it's like living in the big house. Rating:\u00a0 K\u00a0 (1,540 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Humor"","block_context":{"text":"Humor","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=4"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/10\/feature-2.jpg?fit=338%2C338&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":48063,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=48063","url_meta":{"origin":12884,"position":2},"title":"Pictures of Angels (by AH83)","author":"BZTrailRiders","date":"December 21, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary: While sorting through Christmas decorations, Ben finds two cherished mementos of a Christmas long ago.\u00a0 Rating: K, Word Count: 917","rel":"","context":"In "Ben Cartwright"","block_context":{"text":"Ben Cartwright","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=1004"},"img":{"alt_text":"Preserving Their Legacy","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/BTR.png?fit=442%2C255&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":2867,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=2867","url_meta":{"origin":12884,"position":3},"title":"Hiding in Fear (by BluewindFarm)","author":"BluewindFarm","date":"August 24, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"SUMMARY:\u00a0 An unenviable situation finds the brothers in hiding and praying they won't be found.\u00a0 Rating:\u00a0 K \u00a0(640 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Brothers"","block_context":{"text":"Brothers","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=1009"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/Da-brothers-bonanza-16935311-400-264.jpg?fit=400%2C264&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":13701,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=13701","url_meta":{"origin":12884,"position":4},"title":"Shakedown (by Gillian)","author":"Gillian","date":"January 24, 2002","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 Adam finds being an adult isn't all good. Rating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 (9,575 words)","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":63029,"url":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=63029","url_meta":{"origin":12884,"position":5},"title":"The Next Mrs. Cartwright (by JoanS.)","author":"JoanS","date":"June 11, 2005","format":false,"excerpt":"Summary:\u00a0 Ben\u2019s sons decide that it is time their father was married again, so they set out to find him a new wife. Rating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 16,560 words","rel":"","context":"In "Drama"","block_context":{"text":"Drama","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?cat=23"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/03\/Preserving-Their-Legacy.png?fit=732%2C477&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/03\/Preserving-Their-Legacy.png?fit=732%2C477&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/03\/Preserving-Their-Legacy.png?fit=732%2C477&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/03\/Preserving-Their-Legacy.png?fit=732%2C477&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12884","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/9737"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12884"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12884\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/14045"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12884"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12884"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12884"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}