{"id":14619,"date":"2017-08-05T22:16:34","date_gmt":"2017-08-06T02:16:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=14619"},"modified":"2026-06-08T00:34:26","modified_gmt":"2026-06-08T04:34:26","slug":"more-than-a-memory","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=14619","title":{"rendered":"More Than a Memory (by JC)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0 <\/strong>Adam re-assesses his life in the aftermath of his broken engagement to Laura Dayton. (WHB and WHN for \u201cTriangle\u201d.)\u00a0 Written for the 2017 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.<\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0T \u00a0 \u00a0Word Count: \u00a04,221<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Special thanks to Sandspur for her invaluable beta reading skills, once again. \u00a0Also thanks to the the intrepid soul who voted for my story in the tournament poll, whoever you are. \u00a0Lonely are the brave.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

More Than a Memory series:<\/strong><\/p>\n

More Than a Memory\u00a0<\/a>
\nConvergence\u00a0<\/a>
\nFrom Shadows <\/a>
\nThese are the Days<\/a>
\nBitter, Sweet, Wonderful Everything <\/a>
\nThe Homecoming — Requiem<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MORE THAN A MEMORY<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

April 1865<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Adam was the strong one.\u00a0 Everyone knew that.<\/p>\n

Hoss Cartwright outweighed his older brother by a good seventy pounds and could take him in arm wrestling any day of the week (though not without a bucket load of sweat), but he was no match for Adam\u2019s iron will.\u00a0 When Adam made up his mind and dug in on an issue, there was no moving him.\u00a0 Little Joe\u2019s nickname for him \u2013Yankee Granite Head \u2013 was not entirely without merit.<\/p>\n

He was also the quiet one.\u00a0 True, he had plenty to say about things that fueled his intellect and imagination \u2013 things like architecture, engineering, literature, social injustice; the world at large \u2013 but on the subject of Adam, he was mostly and sometimes provokingly silent.\u00a0 It was the only selfish thing about Ben\u2019s oldest boy, those things he kept tucked away for himself, behind the wry smile and the glib answers, hidden from the questioning eyes of his well-meaning family.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019d have to kill me to hurt me,\u201d he once joked.\u00a0 He almost convinced them.\u00a0 He could take physical punishment like no man his father had ever seen, but as one familiar with the unseen wounds of the heart, Ben Cartwright knew something inside his son was broken.<\/p>\n

He knew it the day Laura and Peggy left with Will.<\/p>\n

It was a strange affair from the beginning, Adam\u2019s engagement to Laura Dayton.\u00a0 To some it might have seemed like a natural progression, from a neighborly concern for a widow and her child, to deeper, romantic feelings for a lovely young woman. But Ben saw it differently. Laura was lovely, yet in some ways hardly more than a child herself, and Adam seemed only mildly interested and at times even ambivalent toward her. In fact, Ben doubted the engagement would have happened at all without the orchestrations of Laura\u2019s Aunt Lil, \u201cCupid\u2019s henchman,\u201d as he’d pegged Mrs. Lillian Manford right away.<\/p>\n

What surprised him most was the way Adam bowed to public expectations, almost resigning himself to the marriage as a foregone conclusion, willing to accept something comfortable and pleasant in place of a soul-stirring love with someone who could be his emotional equal.\u00a0 In spite of his own warnings to him about spending the rest of his life with the wrong woman, Adam had made his choice.\u00a0 But it wasn\u2019t really Laura he was choosing.<\/p>\n

Watching Adam with Laura\u2019s little girl Peggy opened Ben\u2019s eyes to the missing piece of his son\u2019s heart.\u00a0 Consciously or not, Adam was desperate for a family of his own. \u00a0As a father rich with sons, Ben knew how poor he would be without them.\u00a0 He\u2019d been a much younger man than Adam when he had courted and married his mother Elizabeth.\u00a0\u00a0 Perhaps Adam felt time was running out. With Laura and Peggy, he\u2019d have a ready-made family with hopes for more children soon. Perhaps that would be enough.<\/p>\n

It might have happened that way, and maybe it would have been a good life, if not for the accident. The fall from the roof of the house that would never be finished left them all contemplating the possibility that Adam might not walk again. In the meantime, Laura had fallen in love with his cousin Will. The heart makes its own choices in spite of all the good intentions of those who think they know better.<\/p>\n

It was Adam\u2019s iron will that pushed him out of the wheelchair that day to convince Laura he didn\u2019t need her, and that she could go with his blessing.\u00a0 Stoic and proud, he\u2019d taken it on the chin like the man he\u2019d been since he was twelve years old \u2013 standing, but only on the outside.<\/p>\n

Ben wanted to cry for him, because he knew Adam wouldn\u2019t, at least not in front of anyone.\u00a0 He could count on one hand the number of times he\u2019d seen tears from his eldest, who seemed to have left them behind with what precious little childhood he had enjoyed. \u00a0Back on his feet, he looked pretty much like the same Adam Cartwright, at least to those who didn\u2019t really know him.\u00a0 He resumed his regular duties at the ranch, still enjoyed the occasional social drink in town, and politely acknowledged the fair citizens of Virginia City while ignoring their sympathetic whispering about \u201cthe poor man.\u201d\u00a0 Gradually the whispering stopped, and everyone assumed the worst was behind him.<\/p>\n

They were wrong.<\/p>\n

The storm had been brewing for a while before it erupted that day. Ben saw the silent warning in Adam\u2019s knitted brows and peeved expression when Joe kept bringing up the trip to San Francisco.\u00a0 His youngest son meant well, but he was pushing too hard.\u00a0 And then Hoss came in with Peggy\u2019s doll, the one she had lost while she and Laura were staying at the Ponderosa during Adam\u2019s convalescence.<\/p>\n

Adam\u2019s mien softened as he fingered the doll\u2019s threadbare dress.\u00a0 \u201cWhere did you find it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the root cellar \u2013 I remember she went out there with me one day, and I reckon she dropped it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe could take it to her when we go to San Francisco,\u201d offered Joe.\u00a0 \u201cI know she\u2019d love to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam looked daggers at him.\u00a0 \u201cJoe, if you don\u2019t shut up about San Francisco, I\u2019m gonna punch you in the face!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you\u2019ve been mopin\u2019 around here for months, so be my guest, if it\u2019ll make you feel better! At least it would prove you\u2019re somethin\u2019 more than just a walking dead man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoseph, that\u2019s enough! And no one is going to punch anybody,\u201d Ben warned them.<\/p>\n

\u201cForget it,\u201d Adam\u2019s eyes narrowed. \u201cYou want me to go to San Francisco? Fine, I\u2019ll go.\u00a0 But I\u2019m going alone.\u00a0 There\u2019s no way I\u2019m taking you with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow wait a minute, Adam\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard me, Joe; I said ALONE.\u201d He pushed up from the table and threw his napkin onto his plate.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m done here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe being a lost cause, Ben tried to persuade Adam to take Hoss with him instead, to no avail. The cryptic response about \u201cother business\u201d that needed his attention made his father uneasy, especially when it came time for Adam to leave.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen can we expect you back?\u201d Ben tried to keep the question casual.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d \u00a0Adam ducked his head and looked away, not a good sign by his father\u2019s reckoning.<\/p>\n

He placed a cautious hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. \u201cDon\u2019t stay away too long, son.\u00a0 This is your home, remember that.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was the wry smile, as if on cue.\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t worry about me, Pa.\u00a0 I\u2019ll be in touch. You just take care of yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n

And then he was gone.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

He was the strong one.\u00a0 Everyone said so.<\/p>\n

He wasn\u2019t sure how he\u2019d gotten such a reputation, but at times it was a stinking albatross around his neck. It was hard enough just being one of \u201cthose\u201d Cartwrights \u2013 those timber kings and cattle barons, living high and mighty on their mountain where they had everything and needed no one.\u00a0 That was one consensus, anyway. Some folks seemed to think the Ponderosa wealth had come easily, and as the ranch continued to prosper, no amount of goodwill could turn the tide of their envy and animosity.\u00a0 They knew nothing of the sweat and sacrifice it took to build an empire; nor did they understand that prosperity didn\u2019t always equal happiness, that life on the mountain top could sometimes be lonely. Other people leaned to the opposite extreme, practically elevating the Cartwrights to sainthood, expecting them to solve impossible problems with the wisdom of Solomon, placing them on pedestals from which they were destined to fall.\u00a0 Either way, it was like living in a fishbowl.\u00a0 Sink or swim; famine or feast \u2013 someone was always keeping score and like as not, you\u2019d be found wanting. Adam had accepted it and even gotten used to it, but he\u2019d never hated it until now.<\/p>\n

He wouldn\u2019t admit it, but the wagging tongues had gotten under his skin this time. He showed himself in town after Laura and Peggy left, if only to prove he hadn\u2019t crumbled.\u00a0 It was a weakness to him that he even cared what they thought. And he despised himself for it.<\/p>\n

Not that his feelings were any of their business, but he wasn\u2019t bitter toward Laura.\u00a0 He supposed he\u2019d known the truth even before his father suggested it.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t her fault for being the wrong woman at the right time.\u00a0 His biggest regret was Peggy. He loved that little girl. \u00a0He would have been a good father.<\/p>\n

He wondered what people would think now, if they saw Adam Cartwright weeping at the grave of a man he\u2019d never even met. <\/em>It would no doubt shatter all expectations.\u00a0 Might not be such a bad thing, at that.\u00a0 <\/em><\/p>\n

James H. Dolan<\/em><\/p>\n

Nov 30, 1833 <\/em><\/p>\n

May 16, 1863<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was a recent grave marked with a simple wooden cross the first time he saw it.\u00a0 The headstone hadn\u2019t yet arrived. The H was for Henry, she\u2019d said.<\/p>\n

The barn was still standing but the house was charred wood and ashes.\u00a0 A man passing by in a wagon said he was a newcomer to the area but heard it had been struck by lightning and burned to the ground well over a year ago.\u00a0 The woman who lived there had died in the fire.<\/p>\n

Picking his way through the foundation rubble, Adam recalled the modest clapboard house, freshly painted.\u00a0 Her husband had bought the paint just before he passed. She had finished the job herself, said it made her feel close to him, and she knew it would make him proud.<\/p>\n

Her name was Moira. Moira Emily Spencer Dolan.\u00a0 He\u2019d seen it written in her Bible\u2026.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

July 1863<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

His horse had gone lame and his canteen was empty, and he remembered almost making it to her front porch with his saddle before he collapsed.\u00a0 She managed to revive him enough to get him inside where he slept for nearly two days while she spooned water and broth into him.\u00a0 He woke up when she was digging in his palm with a rather large needle trying to remove a mesquite thorn.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said, \u201cit needs to come out and it\u2019s going to hurt. Do you trust me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI trust it\u2019s going to hurt, yes. But since my life has been in your hands these past few days, I\u2019m willing to take my chances.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right then. Be still.\u201d<\/p>\n

She wasn\u2019t kidding when she said it would hurt. She was an unapologetically honest woman.<\/p>\n

He repaid her kindness by helping out around the place \u2013 patching the roof, repairing the barn door, chopping wood for the stove \u2013 anything he could find to do for her as the days stretched into a week and then two.\u00a0 She was a fine cook and she made good coffee. \u00a0Seeing her smile across the table became the highlight of his day.<\/p>\n

The sky was on fire that evening with one of the most spectacular sunsets he\u2019d ever seen, streaming ribbons of red, orange, gold, and every shade in between, splayed beneath the gathering purple twilight.\u00a0 But he found himself looking more at her. Then there was that moment when she looked at him. \u00a0Nature prevailed, with one thing leading to another\u2026.<\/p>\n

The next morning she was in the kitchen as usual, except this time her hair was down. A smile spread across his face as he imagined filling his hands with it and kissing that spot just below her ear again\u2026 but something in her expression stopped him. She\u2019d been crying.<\/p>\n

\u201cSit down, Adam. I\u2019ll have your coffee in a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think maybe we should talk first, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean about last night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re obviously distressed, and I assume that\u2019s why.\u201d<\/p>\n

She dried her hands on her apron and didn\u2019t answer right away. \u201cWhat happened last night was a moment, like the sunset \u2013 breathtaking and rare; you can\u2019t hold on to either one except in memory.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that all it was, just a moment? Do you really believe that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all it can be.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? Tell me why.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJames has been my whole life since I was eighteen years old.\u00a0 I\u2019ve never even thought of loving anyone else. I can\u2019t think of it. I\u2019m not sure I\u2019ll ever be able to.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the soft morning light with her chestnut waves framing her lovely heart-shaped face, she looked closer to eighteen than twenty-three. He would have taken her home with him that very day and given her anything to prove her wrong.<\/p>\n

\u201cMoira, my father had three wives, and he was deeply in love with each one of them. You\u2019re young and you still have your whole life ahead of you. Don\u2019t deny yourself the chance of happiness with someone else who would love you.\u00a0 James wouldn\u2019t want that, I\u2019m sure of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn another time and place, maybe, I don\u2019t know. But here and now, I just can\u2019t give you what I think you\u2019re asking. I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sorry about last night?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she shook her head. \u201cIt\u2019s just that feeling of waking up from a wonderful dream and realizing that\u2019s all it was. Last night was a beautiful illusion, one I\u2019ll always remember. But it wasn\u2019t real, Adam. \u00a0It\u2019s time to wake up and be who we are.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd who are we, exactly?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a woman trying to make sense of her life, and you\u2019re a man whose family is probably thinking the worst because he hasn\u2019t come home.\u201d\u00a0 Her voice softened, \u201cDon\u2019t you think it\u2019s time?\u201d<\/p>\n

His throat tightened, and it took him a beat to reply. \u201cMaybe it is.\u00a0 But let\u2019s get one thing straight first. I\u2019m wide awake, and this is real.\u201d He kissed her long and hard, for the last time. \u201cRemember that, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

She\u2019d made her choice clear, and pride wouldn\u2019t allow him to press her further. The right woman, the wrong time \u2013 would he ever get it straight?<\/p>\n

He went out and saddled the horse he\u2019d bought in the town where he’d picked up her supplies earlier in the week. She met him in the yard with a bundle of food she\u2019d packed for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, Mrs. Dolan, I guess this is goodbye. Did I ever thank you for saving my life?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMore than once, Mr. Cartwright,\u201d she smiled. Her blue eyes were bright with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood. I was afraid maybe I\u2019d forgotten my manners. By the way, you really shouldn\u2019t take in any more strangers. It\u2019s not safe, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

She pressed her lips to his cheek and he felt the dampness on her face. His arms went around her in spite of his resolve not to hold her again.<\/p>\n

\u201cGod speed, Adam,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

He closed his eyes and breathed her in. \u201cTake care of yourself; promise?\u201d<\/p>\n

She promised.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

April 1865<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Moira Spencer never thought she could love anyone the way she\u2019d loved fair-haired, blue-eyed James Henry Dolan. \u00a0He had swept her off her feet when she was only seventeen and married her within the year, filling the empty corners of her life with his quick laugh and irreverent sense of humor, not to mention his exasperating way of stopping their arguments with a kiss and making her forget why they were fighting in the first place. She missed his muddy boots by the door and the smell of his pipe in the evenings. She missed the way he breathed her name into her neck when he wanted her, the way he could still make her shiver at his touch, and the gentle, unselfish way he loved her. How his indomitable heart could have stopped beating at 29 years for no apparent reason she still could not fathom, and in the weeks after he died she felt as though she had buried her own heart with him.<\/p>\n

Painting the house had provided a kind of solace; besides, she wasn\u2019t about to let all that money go to waste. \u00a0James would have teased her \u2013 she was the practical one, they both knew \u2013 but he would have approved. \u00a0Then Adam Cartwright literally dropped at her doorstep.\u00a0 She wasn\u2019t sure the best she could do for him would be enough even with God\u2019s help, but he was a strong man, and judging from his scars, he was a man who had beaten the odds a few times already.<\/p>\n

When he was able, he was more than willing to do for her. He was attentive and polite, clearly an educated man, though not intimidating like others she\u2019d known; tall, dark, and very handsome when she allowed herself to think about it.\u00a0 A man could have taken advantage of a woman in her situation if he\u2019d been inclined, but somehow she knew he wouldn’t. He put in a hard day\u2019s work as if he\u2019d been born to it. It was easy having him there, comforting just being able to talk to someone.<\/p>\n

If fault was to be found, it was in the sunset that evening, she’d told herself..\u00a0 She had never seen much of beauty that could move her in such a way and was surprised to feel the tears on her face, more surprised when he stroked them away with his thumbs.\u00a0 The simple gesture was so like her husband that she didn\u2019t resist when his lips brushed her cheek or even when they found her mouth. In the warmth of his kiss, all the loneliness and longing welled up inside her like a mountain spring. It was James she was missing and he had to know that but it didn\u2019t seem to matter. Nothing more would have happened if she hadn\u2019t allowed it. No, in her heart she knew the fault lay with her.<\/p>\n

He took what she freely offered in a way that was both tender and profound, leaving her breathless and marveling at the differences in men. He cared for her, a woman can know such a thing, and he would have stayed if she had given him any encouragement at all.\u00a0 But it would have been a selfish choice. One night, no matter how wonderful, couldn\u2019t change the fact that she was still desperately in love with her husband, and Adam Cartwright deserved more than that. One thing she hadn\u2019t counted on was the hurt in his eyes when she kissed him goodbye. She cried afterwards, thinking of it.\u00a0 The idea of being responsible for another person\u2019s pain only added to her burden of grief.<\/p>\n

She thought of him more than she wanted to, more than she should have. Sometimes she wished he had never come, wished she had never known his touch because it made her lonelier than before. Other times she wished she hadn\u2019t sent him away. In her most honest moments, she knew why she had done it, and why she had lied to him, telling him she didn\u2019t know if she could ever love anyone else. It was because she knew she could love him. She knew it that morning when she woke up next to him, may God forgive her, and that meant letting go of James.\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t; no, she wouldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

They couldn\u2019t hold the sunset, but if she lived a thousand years, she\u2019d never forget.<\/p>\n

Since that day she prayed he would find happiness, just as she had.\u00a0 Adam was a good man, deserving, and he’d left her with more than a memory. She had thought it impossible, and when she discovered it she didn\u2019t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both.\u00a0 Then she sold her homestead and went to live with her sister Fiona in Stockton where no one knew her or James.<\/p>\n

As it happened, Moira\u2019s heart, thought to be buried, was only sleeping.\u00a0 It awoke the moment she felt the first flutter of life inside her.<\/p>\n

The adored child nodding at her breast arrived two weeks early by her calculation, eleven months to the day after James Dolan died.\u00a0 Only her beloved Fi knew the particulars, except for the man himself \u2013 she\u2019d kept that secret for everyone\u2019s sake; his family was too well known. People admired the young widow raising her baby alone, often commenting on the child\u2019s dark beauty and how she must take after her father, and what a comfort that must be.<\/p>\n

There were times when she wondered if she had done the right thing; sometimes guilt and regret kept her up at night. What would their lives be like if he had stayed? It was no use wondering, because what was done couldn\u2019t be undone; besides, he was married now. She knew God had pardoned her sin but consequences remained, and one of them was sacrifice. If she had wronged him with her choice, she prayed he could forgive her too, knowing she made it to protect the only one of them who was truly innocent.\u00a0 A child needed a name.<\/p>\n

She stroked her daughter\u2019s ebony curls and watched the little mouth curve in sleep. Adaline Spencer Dolan, one year old, was growing in grace and indeed the image of her father. But Adam Cartwright didn\u2019t even know she existed and likely, he never would.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He had given his family a vague account of his time away that summer but never mentioned Moira, and a few months later he\u2019d met Laura and Peggy. They needed him. She didn\u2019t. \u00a0Those two young widows couldn\u2019t have been more different.\u00a0 Of course Laura had a child to consider.\u00a0 Moira never got the chance to be a mother.<\/p>\n

He knew his hopes of finding her here now were slim to none, but he had come anyway on that thread only to find her gone forever.\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t even considered the possibility; it caught him like a sucker punch and left him reeling. He wished he hadn\u2019t come, so he wouldn\u2019t know.\u00a0 He would rather imagine her somewhere in the world, happy with her life even with someone else. The truth doesn\u2019t always set one free.<\/p>\n

You should have let me love you, Moira.\u00a0 It would have saved you from this. Maybe it would have saved us both.<\/em><\/p>\n

Another sunset, but there was no beauty in it; it was only a reminder of all the things that had slipped through his fingers in thirty-five years. Memories were a cold comfort. Adam scrubbed the tears from his face. He wasn\u2019t sure what he was looking for anymore, but it wasn\u2019t in Nevada; that seemed certain.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Epilogue — May 1868<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Ben Cartwright felt a sense of satisfaction and pride strolling Stockton\u2019s Main Street on the way to the bank with his youngest son. It had been a good trip with Joe, who had proven himself a capable ranch foreman with a good head for business over the past three years. Nobody was calling him \u201cLittle Joe\u201d anymore.<\/p>\n

A woman and a little girl exited the bank as they arrived.\u00a0 The toe of Ben\u2019s boot brushed something in the doorway \u2013 a doll.\u00a0 He picked it up and called after them.<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me, young lady?\u201d<\/p>\n

The two turned around.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould this be yours?\u201d\u00a0 Ben stooped down until he was nearly nose to nose with the child, who appeared to be around four years old.\u00a0 A pair of solemn hazel eyes fringed with dark lashes met his.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Adaline, you must be more careful with Lucy,\u201d said the woman.\u00a0 \u201cWhat do you say to the nice gentleman?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you,\u201d said the girl, hugging the doll.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re very welcome,\u201d he replied.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome along, sweetheart.\u00a0 Aunt Fi is waiting,\u201d said the woman. She smiled at Ben, \u201cThank you again.\u201d<\/p>\n

He tipped his hat. The little girl waved, the corners of her mouth turning up in a way that made his heart ache.\u00a0 \u201cBeautiful child,\u201d he murmured.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeautiful lady,\u201d said Joe, smiling.\u00a0 He glanced over at his father, \u201cSomething the matter, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ben shook his head, \u201cI was just thinking about Adam, and how long it\u2019s been.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe put a hand on his shoulder.\u00a0 \u201cHe\u2019s been on my mind too, but it won\u2019t be much longer according to his telegram.\u00a0 He might even make it home before we do.\u201d<\/p>\n

He never expected it to be this long, and the time had been crushing. There had been a few short letters, but it had been three years since he\u2019d seen his oldest son\u2019s face. What changes would he read there? Had the years been kind to him?\u00a0 Was he coming home to stay?\u00a0 Ben almost feared the answers.\u00a0 He didn\u2019t think he could bear to see him leave again.<\/p>\n

Adam, you were always the strong one.\u00a0 Stronger than your father.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

~END~<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

If you enjoyed this story, please read the sequel:\u00a0 Convergence (by JC)<\/a><\/p>\n

Special Credits: Characters Laura and Peggy Dayton first appeared in The Waiting Game\u201d (Season 5) written by Ed Adamson. Will Cartwright was introduced in \u201cReturn to Honor\u201d (Season 5)\u00a0 written by Jack Turley. \u201cTriangle\u201d (Season 5) was written by Frank Cleaver.<\/em><\/p>\n

Written for the 2017 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament.<\/p>\n

Words\/phrases dealt to me were: little, peeved, prosper, mountain, in the root cellar<\/em><\/p>\n

For a complete, up to date list of my stories, check out\u00a0<\/strong>JC’s Author Page<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0 Adam re-assesses his life in the aftermath of his broken engagement to Laura Dayton. (WHB and WHN for \u201cTriangle\u201d, written for the 2017 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament) <\/p>\n

Rating: \u00a0T \u00a0 \u00a0Word Count: \u00a04,221<\/p>\n

More than a Memory Series, links to all stories included within.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10253,"featured_media":10680,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[1005,1016,23,3,616,13,40],"tags":[158,1137],"class_list":["post-14619","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adam-cartwright","category-adam-pa","category-drama","category-romance","category-whb","category-whn","category-challenges","tag-pppt","tag-the-triangle","wpcat-1005-id","wpcat-1016-id","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-3-id","wpcat-616-id","wpcat-13-id","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/03\/Adam-serious1.jpg?fit=304%2C304&ssl=1","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14619","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\/10253"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14619"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14619\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/10680"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14619"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14619"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14619"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}