{"id":7237,"date":"2011-04-29T19:43:36","date_gmt":"2011-04-29T23:43:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7237"},"modified":"2026-07-30T14:40:13","modified_gmt":"2026-07-30T18:40:13","slug":"thunder-mountain","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7237","title":{"rendered":"Thunder Mountain (by slaine89)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0<\/span>A storm threatens to keep Ben, Adam, and Joe from returning to the Ponderosa. Adapted from Shakespeare’s The Tempest.<\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0K (8,700 words)
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Thunder Mountain<\/strong><\/p>\n

You’ve heard tales of the mountain, I’m sure.<\/strong> Everyone has. Why should you want to know more than tales? The truth can sometimes be disappointing; it tends to slay the imagination and gloat over her corpse. Wouldn’t you rather live believing that the mountain was inhabited by a wizard of some sort, who, in the manner of Zeus, used thunder and rain as instruments of his whim? He was a man who some say was an outlaw, some say a man of God, and most prefer not to know. They preferred to leave him up there, a crazy man to his mountain, alone to hover on the fringes of life. Only he wasn’t alone. I was there, and my brother, and his daughter. But no one cares to hear that side of the story; it rather detracts from the image of a man on top of a mountain, perhaps leaning on a staff, with his white beard blowing in the wind as he guides a thunderstorm with one gnarled hand, the clouds dark behind him.<\/p>\n

\n

His hair wasn’t even white, you know. It was dark grey, as the clouds of his storms, which he didn’t actually control. Living on the mountain gives you a chance to see what the weather will do before it actually does it, and he used that to his advantage. Not that he ever needed to have a plan. He was one of those people who will go into something with no clear way of how to get out and end up, through complete improvisation, looking like he knew what he was doing all along.<\/p>\n

His daughter, I think, inherited a little of that talent. She was a pretty thing, as unlike to me as night and day. Not that I don’t have some charm, but it’s wild, as wild and fierce as thunder and rain. You wouldn’t call a storm pretty after all, would you? And while I tell you that there was no magic at all in the mountain man or his story, I must contradict myself, for I feel in me some of the powers of my people. The wind calls my name, and rock guides my feet, and the sun and clouds shelter me alike. The very air holds me, nestling me between earth and sky. No magic perhaps, but I feel my soul is rooted in the earth, and perhaps it tells me things that others have forgotten to listen to. Others like my mother and brother.<\/p>\n

So, if you’re sure you want to hear the tale of how the thunder man tried to leave his mountain with the help of a simple Qechua girl who hears the earth speak, I suppose I can tell you. And if the truth diminishes the legend, please don’t blame me. I am but a teller of the tale.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

I liked to climb up to the top of the mountain in the evenings. Not the very top; that\u2019s where my master, Pedro Rivera, prefers to sit and watch the world from high above. And that is where he heard the first rumblings of thunder that he used to change our fate. I was below, sitting in my outcropping of rocks and watching an eagle soar below. It is a fine thing, to be above and eagle, though at the moment I was wishing that we could exchange places. Would that I could fly away from this barren mountain, past the great river and the home of my people to lands unknown. The wandering of my people is in my blood, and it ran vigorously that morning as the clouds began to gather. I could feel the storm in the air that day, but the rock beneath me was unsettled. Somehow I knew this storm would be different.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

\u201cHear that thunder, Pa?\u201d Little Joe called to his father from his paint horse.<\/p>\n

\u201cLooks like we may get a little wet.\u201d Ben Cartwright glanced up at the swiftly gathering clouds.<\/p>\n

The rider beside Ben also looked up. \u201cEl Hombre de Truenos does not like travelers crossing near his land.\u201d He said.<\/p>\n

\u201cEl Hombre de Truenos?\u201d Ben\u2019s oldest son, Adam asked his father\u2019s old friend.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a legend in these parts. I\u2019m surprised you haven\u2019t heard it. They say there is an old man, a wizard of sorts, in these mountains who controls the storms.\u201d He glanced from one rider to the other. \u201cPeople do not go up that mountain. Those that do\u2026 sometimes they come back with tales of strange things. Sometimes they do not come back at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA wizard? And you believe these legends, Sebastian?\u201d Ben asked. He had a hard time believing that his old, level headed friend was putting much stock in myths.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt the heart of every legend is a truth, sometimes an unpleasant one.\u201d Sebastian said.<\/p>\n

\u201cEither a truth or a drunk who wanted to make up a good story.\u201d Antonio Rivera, another friend of Ben\u2019s replied.<\/p>\n

Ben laughed. \u201cI guess that\u2019s true. Either way, I\u2019d rather not get caught in a storm. Is there any place around here where we can shelter, Sebastian?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot unless you want to go back to Colorado City.\u201d Sebastian said. \u201cBut I thought you were in a hurry to get back to your ranch?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot too much of a hurry.\u201d Ben glanced at his eldest son. They had been down in San Luis for the wedding of Sebastian\u2019s daughter, and Adam had agreed to come back to the Ponderosa for a two week visit afterward. In Ben\u2019s mind, the two weeks began once they got back, so the longer the journey took, the more time he would have with the son he hadn\u2019t seen in over a year. Accompanying them were Antonio Rivera, Esteban, who Antonio referred to as his personal aide, but who Ben saw as a personal servant, and Sebastian Gonzalez.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m not afraid of a little water if you\u2019re not.\u201d Joe said. Ben grinned at him. Sometimes he thought his youngest son enjoyed getting drenched.<\/p>\n

And drenched they got. It felt like they were standing under a waterfall, and soon the road began to resemble a creek.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen! Let\u2019s get off the road and take shelter!\u201d Antonio shouted above the noise of the storm.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright!\u201d Ben could barely see through the downpour as he tried to navigate his horse off the road. The wind was nearly blowing him out of his saddle.<\/p>\n

There wasn\u2019t much more shelter once they got off the road, but there was an outcropping of rock that Ben could barely make out to navigate toward.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Pa!\u201d Joe hollered. \u201cCan you hear that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t hear anything, son!\u201d Ben strained his ears, trying to catch whatever it was that his son heard.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt sounds like\u2026\u201d he trailed off as the loud roaring filled all their ears.<\/p>\n

Simultaneously the horses went wild, and with good reason as a wall of water burst through the trees toward them. Ben shoved his weight forward as his horse came up beneath him in a rear, forcing the animal\u2019s front legs back down. With the ground this wet and slippery, a rear could be fatal. He drove his legs into Buck\u2019s side, and the horse leaped forward. There was a rise ahead of them; if they could make it, the flood would pass by behind them. As the horse galloped he glanced back. Adam was behind him. Where was Joe? Ben tried to turn Buck around, but the horse was in a full out gallop of terror and paid no more attention to his rider than if he\u2019d been a fly. The horse scrambled up onto the rise and tried to keep going. Ben pulled as hard as he could on one rein, and Buck twisted in a circle, rearing again. This time before Ben could get him back down, he felt the horse begin to fall sideways. There wasn\u2019t any time for Ben to even think about clearing his leg from the horse before he felt the weight of the animal crash on top of him.<\/p>\n

Buck was instantly up and galloping away; Ben wasn\u2019t quite to spry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adam leap from his horse and kneel beside him.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m alright.\u201d Ben managed. He felt dizzy \u2013 like he\u2019d just spent the past three hours downing some expensive brandy. He clutched at his son. \u201cJoe\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam didn\u2019t answer, or if he did, Ben didn\u2019t hear it. All he heard was the endless rushing of water, and then he didn\u2019t even hear that anymore.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

This is where you\u2019ll argue and say that my master knew all along that Antonio Rivera was traveling this way and had planned the storm accordingly. And this is where I will simply shrug. Who can say? Pedro Rivera had spent years in these mountains, an entire lifetime. Perhaps some god had decided that it was time for him to receive a gift, a boon if you will. But it takes a cunning man to act upon the opportunities presented to him, by the gods or no. He called me to him as the sun was just peering over the mountains, unsure if it wanted to give light to the day. The first few rays lit up his daughter, Miranda\u2019s hair, golden as the light itself. I\u2019d always wondered what it would be like to have golden hair. It would make it harder for me to cloak myself in darkness, but it seemed to lend her a sort of purity.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many were there?\u201d Miranda was asking her father. I wondered why he had told her of the travelers.<\/p>\n

\u201cSix.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSix men lost in a storm.\u201d She said. \u201cBut you won\u2019t help them?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI may help some of them. At the moment I must think.\u201d He said. I knew the look in his eyes. He didn\u2019t need to decide what to do; he already had. But he didn\u2019t want to tell her everything.<\/p>\n

\u201cThink about what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would not have this opportunity pass so easily, my daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOpportunity?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. One of the men who is now at the mercy of me and my mountain was known to me once. In another lifetime.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother and your uncle. Tell me, Miranda, do you have any memories of a life beside this mountain?\u201d<\/p>\n

She was clearly puzzled by his abrupt question, but she knew, as I did, that her father never broached a subject without reason.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot really.\u201d She finally said. \u201cI remember voices, singing me to sleep, and a woman who would kiss me goodnight. Was that my mother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy did you ask?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted to know if you remembered anything of the Val Rosandra. It was my ranch, also in another lifetime. Miranda, would you believe that I, your father was once one of the wealthiest men in all of Mexico?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened?\u201d she asked. I leaned closer, for I had not heard this story either.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brother Antonio ruined me. The night your mother died, he made it look like I had murdered her. I escaped \u2013 with you \u2013 and took refuge in these mountains. And since then I have known no other life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now your brother is one of the ones who are lost in the mountains?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat will you do?\u201d<\/p>\n

She is so gentle, she was surely worrying about her uncle\u2019s life despite everything her father had just told her. But he smiled at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI will not kill him, not yet at any rate. As I said I must think.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you wish to do it alone?\u201d she knew her father well. He did wish to be without human companionship, though not alone. He wanted me, his creature of the night. As Miranda left, he beckoned me forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou heard?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI did. What would you have me do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish to know more about the company. Follow them for a while, Naira. Try to keep them from finding their way back to the road if necessary, but don\u2019t show yourself to them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will.\u201d I left him and climbed down the mountain as silently as a breath of wind.<\/p>\n

There were only five of them, not six. I wondered briefly where the other was as I studied the remaining men and tried to pick out which was Antonio Rivera. Two were easy to eliminate; they were both too young, which left the three older men. One looked too much like a book keeper who had once strayed into the mountains, gotten lost, and spent the entire time blubbing until he was found again. For all his faults, Antonio would have to be a man of power, as both of the remaining two men were. One was thin and narrow, like a ridge line on a mountain, and the other looked like a stout oak tree who had weathered hundreds of seasons. I picked the former. He had shifty eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll just have to look for him.\u201d The oak tree was saying.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen, be reasonable. We don\u2019t have any food or supplies. Even if we found Little Joe, we wouldn\u2019t be any good to him except to starve with him.\u201d The book keeper was filling out my expectations of his grit.<\/p>\n

The oak tree \u2013 Ben, apparently \u2013 didn\u2019t take to kindly to it. He drew himself up. \u201cWe will find him, and I think I know a thing or two about surviving in the wilderness.\u201d The shouting seemed to leave him breathless; he wavered, and one of the younger men stepped forward to support him. I couldn\u2019t place him, like a rock or tree, but somehow more fluid, yet unchanging despite it all.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if someone went back to Colorado City to get supplies while the rest of us stayed here and searched?\u201d he asked. \u201cWe only have one horse left anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, but who will go? Sebastian?\u201d the mountain ridge man gestured to the book keeper, but he shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll stay here with Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n

Well, maybe I was wrong about him. The other young man stepped forward.<\/p>\n

\u201cI will go, se\u00f1or. I am the fastest rider out of us except for Mr. Cartwright, who will want to stay and look for his brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrue. Alright Esteban. Come back to this place with the supplies.\u201d As the younger man dashed away, Antonio placed a hand on Ben\u2019s shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take Adam and go look around. You and Sebastian stay here for a while and rest your head.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI doubt I\u2019ll do much resting, but thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust imagine you\u2019re back on your ranch after a hard day\u2019s work.\u201d<\/p>\n

Adam clapped Ben on the back, and I noticed a resemblance. Father and son?<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry, Pa. Whatever Little Joe\u2019s meant for, it\u2019s not drowning; he\u2019s too stubborn for that. More like going down in a gunfight, I\u2019d say.\u201d<\/p>\n

The other two left, and so did I. I wanted to stay and hear more, but I also wanted to make sure that Rivera wouldn\u2019t object to a member of the party leaving. I scurried back up the mountain, and Rivera met me halfway.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour prey won\u2019t be leaving any time soon.\u201d I told him of the missing party member. \u201cThey sent one away to get more food and more people to look. The rest are staying here to search.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked thoughtfully past me, as if he couldn\u2019t see me at all. I was used to him staring into space and waited. Finally his gaze returned and focused on me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich one is missing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHis name is Joe Cartwright, his older brother and father are two of the ones down there. They\u2019re ranchers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRanchers.\u201d I could see his mind putting pieces together, pieces that I probably had no idea existed. He could always see more than I could, even about myself. \u201cIf it weren\u2019t for my brother, my daughter would be the heiress to the largest ranch in Mexico. Perhaps I can restore her fate.\u201d The words were murmured, not to me, but I replied to them anyway.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou want me to find the missing son?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFind him before they do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey won\u2019t.\u201d I said. I knew where he would have been carried in the flood, if he wasn\u2019t drowned. I hoped for the sake of Rivera\u2019s plan that he wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

When I first saw him, I did think he was dead. He was lying face down amid the branches, logs, and stones that the flood had torn from the mountain and then thrown aside carelessly. But when I lifted his head, he was breathing. I didn\u2019t want to leave him where he could be found, so I carried him to a place where he would be safe from anyone looking for him. Yes, I carried him; don\u2019t look so shocked. I was raised by a woman who could intimidate wildcats. The life I have, I had to fight for using both physical and mental strength. While I may not know how to bake a pie or sew a shirt, I can carry a man on my back for two miles uphill, which is what I did. Then I went to report to my master that I had found the younger Cartwright and that he was alive and hidden.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll send my daughter down to the place you say. Make sure she finds him.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had thought that was his plan. It was sound enough, Miranda had never seen another man before in her life, except for my brother and her father, but she was a woman, even though she didn\u2019t fully understand what that meant. She would do her father\u2019s unspoken bidding.<\/p>\n

I left Miranda with Joe Cartwright and went back down to see what his family was doing. Only no one was in the clearing where I had left them. I searched the ground for tracks and followed the first set I found. They led me to the older Cartwright, Adam. He walked with his eyes on the ground, searching for any sign of his brother. I followed him, captivated by his intent eyes and resolved demeanor. When he paused to sit on a rock, I crept closer, and saw on his face the concern and exhaustion he couldn’t let his father see. My heart went out to him.<\/p>\n

He stood and turned his back to me, and then in one smooth motion, he suddenly spun around and drew his gun.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d<\/p>\n

How had he seen me?<\/p>\n

\u201cA spirit.\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome out into the open.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stepped forward.<\/p>\n

When he saw that I saw a girl, the hand that was holding the gun relaxed slightly. \u201cA spirit?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA spirit of the mountain. I come to answer thy best pleasure, be’t to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curl\u2019d clouds, to thy strong bidding task.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShakespeare.\u201d I could hear his surprise.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Tempest. One of his best works.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d have to disagree.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh? And are you one for the tragedies then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I just find The Tempest to be a little too far fetched and mythological.\u201d<\/p>\n

The corners of my mouth twitched. Pedro Rivera had said the same thing, but I, romantic dreamer that I am, stood by my favorite of Rivera\u2019s books.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo you prefer\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTwelfth Night. But I doubt you came to discuss the works of William Shakespeare.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTrue. I came to deliver a message.\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cA message?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d I stepped forward. \u201cMay I tell it to you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I took another step, and like lighting my fist shot out and grabbed his wrist, my fingers digging into a pressure point. He dropped the gun, and I shoved him backwards, sticking out my foot, so he would trip against it. Before he could rise I was gone, running silently through the trees.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy message is not to trust strangers, Adam Cartwright.\u201d I muttered.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

At first everything had been dark and hard. Then slowly it had lightened, and he felt a gentle throbbing that grew stronger with every minute. Joe tried to go back to the dark place where there was no sharp pain in his head, but the light was persistent. Then he felt something else, something cool and damp on his forehead. He opened his eyes. Above him there was a soft face framed by hair that made him think of sunshine. Her eyes were the darkest blue he\u2019d ever seen, like they were fathoms deeper than any other blue eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cAm I dead?\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d she smiled slightly, and instantly her eyes lightened, as if the sun were shining from beneath them rather than on them.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name is Miranda Rivera. And who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe Cartwright.\u201d His throat felt like dry dust, but he couldn\u2019t take his gaze off her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou hit your head.\u201d She went on. \u201cIt must have been in the flood.\u201d<\/p>\n

Memory came rushing back to Joe. \u201cI fell off my horse when he bolted. There was water\u2026 I don\u2019t remember anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re lucky.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d He started to stand, but as he did, the world seemed to try to tip him over. Miranda\u2019s arms gently lowered him back down.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t move.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to find the others and see if they\u2019re alright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey could be hurt.\u201d<\/p>\n

She bit her lip thoughtfully. \u201cI\u2019ll tell my father to send Usco to look for them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUsco?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s an Indian that serves my father. If I tell him, will you rest?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright.\u201d Joe didn\u2019t like it, but it was better than nothing, and he was too tired to argue anyway. His head felt like someone was trying to squeeze it in.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go tell him now.\u201d She stood.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait.\u201d Joe reached out and caught her hand. Her skin was as soft and cool as water. \u201cWill you come back?\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled again. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

Rivera did send my brother Usco out, but not to look for the Cartwrights. He gave him very strict orders to stay out of sight so that Miranda wouldn’t see him and think her father was up to something, which of course he was. To say my brother was unpleased with his orders was to say the Colorado River was a trickle. But he went as Rivera bid, though he complained loudly to me on his way down the mountain.<\/p>\n

\u201cI go into exile while you stay here and lick the feet of your beloved\u00a0master<\/em>.\u201d He putted a dirty intonation on the word, but I ignored it. I called Rivera master because he not only saved my life but also gave me a new one. It was a sign of respect.<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps if you were a little more amiable, Senor Rivera would treat you better.\u201d I said, a little haughtily. But Usco had been a favorite of my mother, who had beaten me, so I didn\u2019t mind rubbing in his face that now I was the favorite.<\/p>\n

\u201cAmiable? Such tall words for such a short guera.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you would not bother pointing it out if you were not jealous of the fact that I can read and you can\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

He spit. \u201cWho needs to read? You\u2019ll never leave this mountain as long as Rivera is alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither will you, and not because you choose to stay, but because you\u2019re too lazy to leave.\u201d I turned and walked away, reflecting that my brother and I behaved very differently from Adam and his brother. If I thought my brother had drowned in a flood, I would have brushed my hands off for good riddance, and if I found him alive on the bank, I would have thrown him back in.<\/p>\n

Even though he hadn\u2019t sent me, I went back that evening. I sat on the edge of their community like a beggar site at the edge of a fire, close enough to know there is warmth, but not to feel it.<\/p>\n

Adam was skinning a rabbit they had found, and Ben was lighting a fire. I assumed the other two were looking for firewood, so I hid myself in a tree in case one of them saw me on their way back to the camp.<\/p>\n

\u201cOnce Esteban gets back with supplies and more men, we\u2019ll have a better chance at finding him.\u201d Ben was saying. I could hear an \u2018if he\u2019s alive\u2019 left unspoken at the end of his sentence. I wished I could tell him what I knew \u2013 that his son was alive and being cared for by one of earth\u2019s angels at the moment.<\/p>\n

The son didn\u2019t reply immediately, and I sensed his desperate need to comfort and support his father. Watching them reminded me of watching my brother catch fish out of the river with his bare hands; no matter how many times I observed it, I couldn\u2019t understand it, much less hope to mirror the action myself. And was it any wonder? My own mother had tied me to a tree and left me to die, and while I had observed Rivera\u2019s protectiveness of Miranda, there was a large part of him that he kept from her; even after telling her about her true heritage, he still kept much of himself from her. Not so with these two, who I could easily imagine as two trees that started out as separate and then were so close that as they grew they became one at the base. It was a mystery to me, one that I couldn’t figure out.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll find him. And soon we\u2019ll all be back at the Ponderosa.\u201d Adam finally said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. Together for a little while.\u201d There was a longing in his tone that I couldn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe longer. I know how much you\u2019ve needed me there now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve always needed you, Adam. But you had to go after your dreams like I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t deny it Pa, you\u2019ve needed me there more of late, now that Hoss\u2026\u201d he trailed off, and I cocked my head from the branch I was perched on. Who was this Hoss? Another son?<\/p>\n

\u201cI would have stayed longer after the funeral, but it was too much.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know. I was the one who told you to go, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. But that was then. Now\u2026\u201d with each sentence he left unfinished, I grew more interested.<\/p>\n

\u201cI chased my dreams, like you said. But there\u2019s something to be said for family too.\u201d He finally concluded.<\/p>\n

I climbed down and left, having had my fill of being a beggar watching a banquet. Besides, I had another party to check on, this time a party of two. I climbed up to where I had left Joe Cartwright and Miranda. I sensed a presence a short distance away and saw Rivera, watching as well. I wondered if he was more interested in the development of his plan or concerned about his daughter\u2019s virtue.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour plan goes smoothly.\u201d I said quietly as I approached him.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave they been talking long?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll afternoon. Her heart beats in time with his.\u201d As he spoke a sadness filled his voice that I didn\u2019t understand. He wanted her to leave this mountain and go on to another life. Later I learned that no father wants to let go of his daughter, no matter how better her life will be for it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m still not sure about his intentions though.\u201d Rivera continued. \u201cHe\u2019ll need to be tested.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn what manner?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour brother is gone, but his chores will still need to be done. That will do to start. Can you think of anything else?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI would like a house, Se\u00f1or.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA house?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not? So long as he is building.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rivera let out a quiet laugh, and he put a hand on my shoulder. \u201cI taught you too well. Stay here; I don\u2019t want him to see you, or her for that matter.\u201d<\/p>\n

I hung back as he stepped forward and settled down eagerly to watch my master in action.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiranda.\u201d His voice boomed like his thunder. \u201cHow is it that I find you here, alone with this scoundrel?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cScoundrel?\u201d Joe jumped to his feet, and I instantly liked him. He looked like a young pup ready to attack and old hound, unaware that the hound could rip his throat out if he chose. But I felt that even if he was aware of it, he would attack anyway.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, scoundrel. You lure my daughter alone into the wilderness, away from her father\u2019s watchful eye, and claim to only be talking?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do.\u201d Joe snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cFather, please, we\u00a0were<\/em>\u00a0just talking.\u201d Poor Miranda. She clung to her father\u2019s arm, willing him to believe her when he had been standing above them the whole time and knew her words to be truth.<\/p>\n

\u201cTalking of what? Love?\u201d<\/p>\n

She hung her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiranda, love is a word that young men use rather loosely.\u201d<\/p>\n

I nearly laughed when Joe took a swing at Rivera. Miranda shrieked, not sure whether to be on the side of her father or newfound lover. Luckily for her, the fight didn\u2019t last long; Rivera knocked Joe down like he was made of straw.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, father, he does love me.\u201d At first I thought Miranda was rushing to her father\u2019s side, but instead she knelt next to Joe. From somewhere inside me there came a twinge, and I wondered briefly if a man would ever want to fight for me.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that what you say, lad?\u201d Rivera asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d Joe stood bravely, but I noticed that he leaned on Miranda just a little for support. \u201cI do love her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWords are cheap.\u201d Rivera spat.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot when they\u2019re true.\u201d Joe glared straight at his eye with a gaze so intense I wondered how Rivera could stand it.<\/p>\n

\u201cProve your worth then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll give you a task. If you can do it by nightfall the day after tomorrow, then I\u2019ll accept your suit of my daughter\u2019s hand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the task?\u201d Joe asked steadily. I was impressed; the thought of wavering didn\u2019t even seem to enter his head.<\/p>\n

Rivera glanced up at the rock I was behind. \u201cBuild me a house.\u201d<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

I hadn’t been serious at all when I’d told Rivera that I wanted a house. In truth I was happy sleeping under the stars and going into Rivera’s log cabin when the weather was bad. I suppose it was a good thing I didn’t really want a house, because even if Joe Cartwright managed to finish it, it probably wouldn’t be much to look at, more like a shack than a house. Part of me wanted to go and watch, but another part wanted to check on the rest of the group. Maybe the earth was speaking to me again, whispering treachery in the night air. Who knows? I hurried back to their camp.<\/p>\n

At first I thought that everyone was sleeping at first, but then I heard whispers. The first voice I recognized was Antonio Rivera’s, a whispery hiss that barely reached my ears.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo now that you’ve given away your only child, what other life ambitions do you have planned?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s part of the reason I agreed to go with Ben back to Nevada after the wedding.\u201d Sebastian’s voice was less snakelike; instead it was fringed with a bitterness that I hadn’t noticed before.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was thinking of buying some land, maybe turning it into a ranch like the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow would you like to own the Ponderosa?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBen Cartwright would never sell it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. But he wouldn\u2019t have to if he were dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf he were dead it would go to his sons.\u201d<\/p>\n

Antonio gestured to the sleeping forms. \u201cThere\u2019s one of them. The other is most likely dead. All it would take is a couple of shots.\u201d<\/p>\n

I shivered at the slow grin that crossed Sebastian\u2019s face. He would do it and never think about it again. Rivera had told me not to be seen, but I couldn\u2019t let the only two decent members of this group die at the hands of rogues. I slipped from one shadow to another until I was next to the younger of the two men sleeping. His chest rose and fell steadily as if he were blissfully unaware of anything, but even in sleep his face still carried the worry for his brother. I lowered my face close to his ear, and whispered softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cAwake, if you want to see another day.\u201d Then I was gone, back to my hiding place. He stirred and opened his eyes. Instantly he saw Sebastian and Antonio with their guns drawn.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d he asked. I saw his own hand creep to his gun.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought I heard something. Maybe a mountain lion.\u201d Sebastian said.<\/p>\n

Adam studied him in silence. I could see his mind was working, but I couldn’t tell what was on it. It was plain he wasn’t sure whether to believe them or not.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll keep watch.\u201d he finally said. \u201cIn case it comes back.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two villains couldn’t argue; their chance was gone for the moment. I debated stepping forward and telling Adam what had happened, but I didn’t. He wouldn’t trust me after this past afternoon, and I didn’t want to fail Rivera. I would just have to keep a close eye on things down here.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

The light of a fire and the sound of someone singing had drawn Usco out of the woods. For a moment the two men stared at each other, then the stranger asked in a voice low with fear,<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you El Hombre de Truenos?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Usco said. \u201cJust a man wandering in the woods.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d the stranger held out a thin metal bottle. \u201cWant a drink?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure.\u201d Usco didn’t know what was in the bottle, but when he took a drink, it felt like he had swallowed a flame. He forced his face out of a grimace and nodded, as if he drank that stuff all the time.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty good, hey?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot bad.\u201d Usco said. He took another swallow. It went down easier that time. \u201cWhat are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn my way to Colorado City, but my horse went lame. You?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m a wanderer.\u201d Usco said. \u201cMy name is Usco.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEsteban Garcia.\u201d<\/p>\n

Usco took another sip. \u201cThis stuff is really pretty good.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOught to be for what I paid for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHmph, money.\u201d Usco spit. \u201cA man can get nowhere without it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd those who have it want to go nowhere.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExactly.\u201d Usco suddenly felt like his tongue was talking with another force. \u201cLike that old man. He has money, tons of it, but what does he do? Sit on the mountain all day while I do his chores.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho has money?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo one.\u201d Usco shut his mouth. Rivera would beat him over the head if Usco told anyone about him.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave it your way.\u201d Esteban handed him the flask. \u201cHave another drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

Usco took the flask.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know what you mean, I used to work for a man who drove me into the ground.\u201d Esteban started laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s so funny?\u201d Usco’s words were slurred.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I shot him and took his money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHa! I should do that to this man! Only I don’t have a gun.\u201d Usco slumped down dejectedly.<\/p>\n

Esteban grinned and pulled out his pistol. \u201cThink this would do the trick?\u201d<\/p>\n

Usco’s eyes widened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe split the money, Usco, you and me. How about it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Usco nodded. His head felt so heavy.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere is this old man?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll show you.\u201d<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

Now you see why I would have thrown my brother into a flood.<\/p>\n

It’s not so much that he’s a bad person, he just expects things to fall into his lap. And why shouldn’t he, after the way my mother raised him? When she was alive he was a prince, her pride and glory. For the first ten years of my life, he lorded over me the fact that he could do no wrong \u2013 and I could do no right. If I had been brought up in a society where I could see how other families function, I might have yearned for my mother’s love and my brother’s companionship, but I was brought up in these mountains. My mother and my brother were the only two people in my world, and I decided early on that I didn’t need either of them. When I tried to run away, my mother left me tied to a tree. As fate would have it, she died that night, and I was left alone there for nearly three days. Then fate gave me an apology in the form of Pedro Rivera, who stumbled upon me while searching for food for his four year old daughter. I’ve been his servant ever since, in the spirit of the word if not in the literal sense. And my brother? He stuck around, though they never got along. Rivera, while a man who was used to hard work, was also a man used to people doing what he told them to do, and my brother was to stupid to see that survival takes work, so Rivera was forced to use harsher measures than he probably would have liked. The result was Rivera scorning my worthless brother, and my worthless brother bitter against my master.<\/p>\n

Miranda didn’t like him either. Smart child that she was, she picked up on her father’s dislike of Usco and took it to an extreme, snubbing him whenever she got the chance. I won’t say I encouraged it, but I didn’t lift a finger to stop it. I have my pride as well, and Miranda adored me, at least when she was younger. As she got older, and I became a strange combination of a literary woman and a woman who felt the earth move beneath her in the way of her ancestors, we became a little distant. I think we carried envy for each other in the back of our minds. I wished for a father like hers, and she grudged the attention he spent teaching me to read \u2013 something she learned under protest while I developed a passion for it \u2013 and how I was able to help him keep his mountain free from unwanted visitors. Somehow over the years we became shy of each other.<\/p>\n

But I had to admire her, especially now as her suitor labored to prove himself. Rivera was not a man who many could stand up against, but she didn’t back down an inch. While Rivera stood watching as Joe cut down trees and sawed the limbs off, Miranda stood there too, silently cheering him on and ignoring her father’s commands to go home. When Joe paused for his \u2013 very rare and even shorter \u2013 breaks, she could go over despite the withering glares from Rivera to give him a drink and wipe his face off with a handkerchief.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop and rest for a while.\u201d she said when Rivera had gone off to see what the sky was doing. At least, that’s what he said. I knew as well as Miranda that he liked to take a few hours to read in the afternoon, and he usually fell asleep about halfway through the allotted time.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can’t. It’ll be a race to get this done as it is.\u201d he lifted the canteen she handed him and drank greedily.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I help?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA fine man I’d be if I let you do my work for me while sat back and watched from a lazy distance.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut will you finish in time?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will.\u201d he said. It was impossible, but the way he said it made me believe it. Miranda believed him too; she would have believed him if he said the sky was green.<\/p>\n

\u201cJoe…\u201d she seemed a little unsure about saying what was on her mind, but then she grabbed his arm. \u201cWhy are you doing this for me?\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused, as if to collect his thoughts before speaking. \u201cI’ve seen a lot of women in my life, Miranda, I’ve known a lot of women, even been in love with a few. But you…\u201d he reached up tentatively to touch her hair, as if she’d disappear if he moved too fast. \u201cYou’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, both on the inside and the outside.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stared at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. \u201cI’ve never seen another woman besides Naira; I wouldn’t know if I’m beautiful or not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are.\u201d Joe said. As I said before, she would have believed him if he said the sky was green. She had no notion of what a beautiful woman looked like, but if Joe Cartwright said she was beautiful, beautiful she was.<\/p>\n

Joe grabbed both of her hands. \u201cMiranda, come back with me to the Ponderosa. We can build a house overlooking the lake, close enough to the main house to go visit, but far enough away to feel like we’re the only people in the world if we want to. And we can ride up to the high pasture in the summer and race across the fields, and in the winter, we’ll sit by the fireplace with a quilt wrapped around us, close enough to keep each other warm…\u201d he had leaned closer and closer with each word until their lips were only a hair’s breadth apart. I stood and left, feeling mildly irritated at the same time I was glad for Miranda. My master’s plan had worked; she would be an heiress to a ranch once again. And I would be left on this mountain to rot.<\/p>\n

I went to Rivera in his log house and found him reading Don Quixote. He chuckled to himself as he read.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe’s head over heels, and he’s her slave.\u201d I said. He looked at me over the top of his book, and I relayed to him the conversation I’d overheard.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo there it is.\u201d he snapped the book shut. \u201cYou have something else on your mind?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHis father and brother are worried about him.\u201d I said, speaking of Joe. \u201cHis father lost a son recently; it would be cruel for him to lose another. I think if you could see them, your father’s heart would share their grief.\u201d<\/p>\n

Rivera laughed, but it was warm as summer sunshine. \u201cAlways one with the pretty words, aren’t you, Naira? So fetch his father here, and his honorable brother, and my incorrigible one, and that other weasel, Sebastian. I’ll go tell the lad to stop building your house.\u201d<\/p>\n

I left him. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I would have stayed just a few moments longer. But fate will have her way, and if Rivera could play with men’s lives, so could she.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

Joe chopped down what felt like his thousandth tree and began sawing off the branches. It seemed to make the work go faster, to break it up this was. He arms ached, and he felt lightheaded, but every time he closed his eyes \u2013 even to blink \u2013 Miranda’s smile flashed before him. It kept him on his feet despite the fact that his body wanted to drop to the ground and sleep for a week.<\/p>\n

\u201cHold up a moment, lad.\u201d Miranda’s father emerged from the trees.<\/p>\n

Joe tensed, but his arms were glad for the break. Still, he wouldn’t put it past the old man to delay him so that he couldn’t complete his task.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiranda.\u201d Rivera took a deep breath. \u201cThis is your choice then? To go with him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d she said. Joe felt his heart beat faster at the single, simple word.<\/p>\n

\u201cLad, I owe you an apology. But a man has to be certain when dealing with his greatest treasure. Now that I know that this is love, not lust, you may have her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe felt like he’d received a warm handshake when expecting a cold slap. He blinked. Miranda recovered her senses before he did and took his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can go to your Ponderosa, Joe, like you told me about.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked down at her and saw his future laid out before him in her blue eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiranda…\u201d a gunshot cut him off. He looked up to see Esteban and an Indian man standing nearby. Esteban had his pistol drawn.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo one move.\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat’s going on, Esteban?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNone of your business, Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUsco, what are you doing?\u201d Rivera demanded. His voice lacked fear; in its place was a sternness that reminded Joe of his own father.<\/p>\n

\u201cTaking what’s mine. For years I’ve worked and slaved for you, and what do I get? Nothing!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou never had to stay. You could have left if you’d wanted to, and I would have gladly seen you gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd where’s a man to go without money? But now I’ll have it.\u201d his molten angry gaze slid from Rivera to Miranda and turned cold. \u201cAnd maybe I’ll have your daughter too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe felt every muscle tense on his body, and his grip automatically tightened on Miranda’s arm.<\/p>\n

He glanced at where he’d placed his gun. He’d taken it off while working, and now it lay in the grass ten feet away. How could he get to it?<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere’s the money, Rivera?\u201d Usco growled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat money?\u201d Rivera’s hand crept to his side. From the angle he was at, Joe could see a slight bulge under the loose shirt. A gun? Did Usco know he had it?<\/p>\n

\u201cYour treasure! You’re always talking about how you came out of Mexico with your daughter and your treasure; now where is it?\u201d Usco took a step forward, drawing a knife. In that instant Rivera pulled out his gun and two shots rang out, one from Rivera and one from Esteban. Joe lunged toward his gun, slid it free from the holster and pulled the trigger. Miranda gave a muffled scream, and then all was silent.<\/p>\n

Instantly, she was at her father’s side. Joe dropped his gun and joined her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I made the right choice for my daughter.\u201d he panted. \u201cTake care of her, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Miranda burst into tears, but Rivera held up a weak hand to wipe them away.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon’t cry for me, my dear. I would have chosen this as the way to go. Tell your uncle to keep the ranch.\u201d his laugh turned into a wheezy breath. \u201cDid I ever tell you that you look like your mother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Miranda’s voice was choked with tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou do. Give Naira my books, any that you don’t want.\u201d he gave a weak chuckle. \u201cThat’s the treasure the old bastard was looking for. I brought two treasures out of Mexico, my books and you.\u201d he caressed his daughter’s cheek and then turned to Joe. \u201cI’d rather not have her see me die. Rather not have anyone crying over my last breath. Take her down to that outcrop over there. The view is one you won’t find anywhere else in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joe gently helped Miranda to her feet. She felt so fragile in his arms, like a newborn foal that couldn’t quite walk on its own yet. She leaned against him as they moved, weak with sobs.<\/p>\n

~*~<\/p>\n

That was where we found him. It was as easy as letting Adam get a glimpse of me in the woods to start to lead them there, but once we heard the gunshots, we all broke into a run. I got there first and dropped to my knees beside the old man that had cared for me since I was a child.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy master.\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. My daughter.\u201d his voice was barely audible, and as I knelt beside him, his gaze shifted from me to the men running up behind me. One by one they crowded around.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, brother, here you’ve been, in my grasp the whole time. But here, at the end, I forgive you. Don’t bother trying to say anything.\u201d he gasped as he cut his brother off. \u201cI don’t have time for the apologies you feel obligated to give me. Ben Cartwright.\u201d he looked up at the Nevada man. \u201cI see a sadness in your eyes. It might do me good to hear another man’s troubles rather than thinking about my own.\u201d<\/p>\n

I could see the man wondered how Rivera knew his name, but he didn’t ask. Instead he lowered his head, as if fighting through a catch in his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ve… I’ve lost a son, you see.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know your pain; I have like the loss.\u201d he smiled up at Ben Cartwright’s confused face. \u201cYou see, I’ve lost a daughter.\u201d he gestured down a slope to where two figures could be seen, looking out over the edge of the mountain. Ben Cartwright stood, and life seemed to flow back into his face as he recognized one of the figures.<\/p>\n

\u201cI told you he wasn’t meant for drowning, Pa.\u201d Adam said.<\/p>\n

I looked down at Rivera, and he smiled at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou go now, and live the life you were meant to.\u201d he whispered. \u201cI’ll miss you, but you shall be free.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked up to stop the tears and felt a wind rustle past me and brush against my cheek as it fled. When I looked down I saw, not Rivera, my master, my father, but simply the body that had housed his spirit. I stood and turned away. Crying in front of people was something I was neither familiar nor comfortable with.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait.\u201d A voice called from behind me, and I turned to see Adam following. I felt as if a slight breeze could blow me away as I looked up at him. \u201cYou were the one who woke me up that night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

I could have said that Pedro Rivera didn\u2019t want anything to happen to them, but it would have only been part of the truth. I felt like a new life should begin by being open, even if it meant being vulnerable.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t want anything to happen to you.\u201d Not to your group, not to your family, to you. But I didn\u2019t add the last part. There was probably such a thing as being too open.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m grateful.\u201d He said. He wanted to say more, I could sense, but neither of us had the words. One corner of my mouth lifted slightly in a smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you ever read Macbeth, Adam Cartwright?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI own it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSe\u00f1or Rivera once told me to read it if I got the chance. He didn\u2019t own it.\u201d I opened the door for him. It takes a cunning man to see an opportunity and make the most of it. Fortunately for me, Adam Cartwright is a very cunning man.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell if you would agree to accompany me to my father\u2019s ranch, I can arrange for you to read it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright then.\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew where the horses were, so while Adam and I went to get them, the rest dug the graves, two for the traitors and one for Pedro Rivera. Ben Cartwright had thought that we would want to take the body with us to bury somewhere else, but Miranda had said no.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis was the place he finally found contentment after years of looking south.\u201d she said. \u201cThis is where he would want to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

We paused at the grave before leaving so Miranda and I could say our final goodbye. She mourned a father, and I mourned a man who had set free both my body and my soul. And so El Hombre de Truenos truly did become one with the mountain, and the sky, and the wind, and the thunder. His so called spells and charms were overthrown, and all that was left was a cross on the mountain.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
Disclaimer:<\/span>\u00a0All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0A storm threatens to keep Ben, Adam, and Joe from returning to the Ponderosa. Adapted from Shakespeare’s The Tempest. \u00a0<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0K (8,700 words)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":216,"featured_media":8202,"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_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[23,1008],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7237","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-family","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-1008-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/04\/lightning.jpg?fit=200%2C252&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7237","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\/216"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7237"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7237\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8202"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7237"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7237"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7237"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}