Ben and Stacy befriend a young woman returning home after living with the Chinook for four years. Part of the series begun in “Bloodlines” and includes the addition of a non-cannon character. \u201cThere But For The Grace of God\u201d takes place after \u201cOrenna,\u201d the same winter.<\/p>\n
Rating: \u00a0T (49,650 words)<\/p>\n
Bloodlines Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n Bloodlines<\/a> \n There But For The Grace Of God\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n Chapter 1<\/p>\n A black Victoria, complete with bonnet top, hitched to a magnificent pair of large, well muscled black horses, rounded the corner at the back of the barn and pulled up into the yard, moving at a stately, decorous pace across a field of mud, dotted with patches of melting ice and snow. Inside, Clara Marlowe, aged thirty-nine, soon to be forty, fidgeted in her seat, impatient for the conveyance to be there, in front of the house. She giggled and clapped her hands, unable and unwilling to reign in the unbridled excitement and happiness waxing in her heart, even as the diminished light and warmth of the day steadily waned into fast approaching night. Her husband, aged in his early fifties, smiled indulgently at the squirming bundle of energy seated beside him, and shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cOh HONESTLY, Carlton! Can\u2019t you drive this thing any faster?\u201d the woman impatiently chided the driver, a tall, slender yet well-muscled, young man, aged in his late twenties. Tonight, he wore a black suit with vest and string tie, a starched, pristine white shirt, and a pair of black boots, polished to a high gloss shine. Overtop his clothing, he wore a heavy black overcoat.<\/p>\n \u201cClara, we\u2019ll be at the door in just a moment,\u201d her husband admonished her in the same indulgent, yet faintly condescending tone a parent might use to scold an unruly, yet much beloved young child.<\/p>\n \u201cBut, Tom Darling, I can\u2019t wait to tell Ben and the others,\u201d she squealed with glee.<\/p>\n The front door of the house opened in the same instant the Victoria came to a complete stop. Ben Cartwright stepped from the warmth of his home out into the cold night air to greet his arriving guests, Tom and Clara Marlowe. Tonight, he wore his best gray three piece suit, a white shirt, freshly laundered, pressed, and starched, black string tie and boots. Candy appeared from the lengthening shadows, in the company of Kevin O\u2019Hennessy and Robert Washington, two of the younger ranch hands, to take charge of the Victoria and the horses.<\/p>\n \u201cYou need to be careful and watch your step, Mrs. Marlowe,\u201d Carlton said as he gallantly extended his hand upward toward Clara, already in her. \u201cIt\u2019s very slippery right along here.\u201d<\/p>\n A small, impatient frown creased the surface of her forehead, rendered smooth by the heavy, judicious application of cosmetics. Carlton quickly, albeit not quickly enough to satisfy the capricious wife of his employer, helped Clara Marlowe alight from the Victoria. \u201cThank you,\u201d Clara murmured correctly, as she primly lifted her skits, just enough to keep her hemline from being muddied, and stepped up onto the porch.<\/p>\n \u201cTom . . . Clara, good evening,\u201d Ben greeted his guests with a warm smile, then stepped aside, allowing them to enter the house first. \u201cPlease, come in.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d Tom said quietly. \u201cIt\u2019s been a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, it has, Tom. It\u2019s been TOO long.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBen, I promise you that Clara and I won\u2019t let another . . . . \u201d He frowned. \u201cHow long HAS it been?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNearly . . . six months now, I think . . . . \u201d Apart from a cool, polite hello in passing, the Cartwrights and the Marlowes had not really socialized with one another since the day Ben and his sons had let it be known that Stacy was related to them by blood.<\/p>\n Until now.<\/p>\n \u201cI promise you, Ben, Clara and I won\u2019t let so much time go by between visits.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNor will I.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara Marlowe, meanwhile, slipped past the two men, and dashed inside the house. She noted the blazing fire in the fireplace with a satisfied smile. It\u2019s inviting warmth seemed to flow right from the heart of the flickering, dancing flames into every wall, every board, nail, and rafter. In the dining room, the table had been set correctly with a fresh, white linen table cloth, the crystal goblets, the good china and silver. Ben\u2019s two younger sons and daughter, politely rose from their places next to the fireplace, and made their way across the room to greet the Marlowes.<\/p>\n Clara was gratified to see young Joe Cartwright wearing that nice blue suit that brought out the blue in his eyes. He looked so handsome, so debonair when he chose to dress himself properly and take a comb to the oft-unruly mop of brown curls. If ONLY she were twenty years younger . . . .<\/p>\n Clara vigorously shook her head to clear out that lovely, errant thought.<\/p>\n As for Hoss, if Clara Marlowe could have HER way, if only just for a moment, she would whisk that big galoot to a proper men\u2019s clothier in San Francisco, or better yet, Philadelphia, or New York, and have some decent suits made up for him that fit him properly. That ill fitting, mud brown suit, that didn\u2019t quite come together over his massive, barrel chest, with arms and pants just this side of being too short, would go into the nearest garbage pit and burned immediately.<\/p>\n And Stacy! Well that child was enough to make even the most patient of people throw up their hands in despair. Tonight, Clara had to grudgingly admit that the girl looked presentable enough in that sunlight yellow frock that complimented her dark hair and brought out the golden highlights of her flawless skin tone. But the simply cut, tailored dresses Stacy seemed to prefer showed up her appalling lack of fashion sense.<\/p>\n Granted, the girl\u2019s ignorance stemmed from having lived in an otherwise all male household, and among Paiutes before that, heaven forbid. But, even so, a man of Ben Cartwright\u2019s means could certainly well afford to see that his daughter was properly schooled as to the manner in which a young lady was expected to comport herself. Clara shook her head, unable, for the life of her, to comprehend why Ben chose to neglect Stacy so shamefully.<\/p>\n \u201cMay I help you with your cape, Ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Hoss, thank you,\u201d Clara responded with a smile, as her musings on the Cartwright offspring, suddenly scattered, like frightened chickens when the coop is invaded by a predator.<\/p>\n Hoss gallantly held her long, black floor length cape, while Clara Marlowe gingerly eased it away from her shoulders, taking great care not to muss her hair or gown. She wore a stunning off the shoulder gown, of a deep port wine organdy, trimmed in gold lace. Her necklace, a choker, was a string of deep red garnets, each stone set in a gold mount. The thin lips of the mountings served as a frame for each stone. Matching earrings dangled from her ears.<\/p>\n \u201cLight wrap, Mrs. Marlowe,\u201d Hoss remarked as he draped the cape over the outstretched arms of his sister, Stacy. \u201cIt\u2019s a wonder you didn\u2019t freeze t\u2019 death on the way over.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m very warm blooded,\u201d Clara retorted lightly, with a smile.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am,\u201d Hoss murmured uneasily, making silent note of the goose bumps, stretching from her shoulders to her wrists, giving lie to her bantering words.<\/p>\n Ben noted Clara\u2019s thin, near emaciated frame with dismay. The bones of her cheeks, chin, and eye sockets protruded with painful clarity through a layer of pale skin, stretched to alarming tautness. Dark eyes peering intently from deeply set, rounded eye sockets, and her scarlet lipstick, emphasizing a wide mouth and long row of white teeth, lent her face a deathly, skull like appearance. Clearly visible through the thinned, translucent skin covering her hands, face, neck, and forearms, was a vast network of interlacing blue veins. The cosmetics, so painstakingly and judiciously applied, somehow seemed to accentuate all of the imperfect flaws they were supposed to conceal.<\/p>\n Thomas Marlowe, quietly divested himself of his own outer garments, a heavy, fully lined fleece overcoat, a fur Cossack style hat with ear coverings, woolen scarf, and lined leather gloves. These he dutifully handed over to the waiting hands of Joe Cartwright. He was a tall, well-muscled man, despite having lived the largely sedentary lifestyle of the independently wealthy for the better part of two and a half decades. His eyes were grayish green, and his hair light brown, almost blonde, thinning on top with receding hairline.<\/p>\n \u201cDinner will be ready shortly,\u201d Ben said, as his younger children quietly withdrew to the downstairs guestroom, carrying the Marlowes\u2019 winter wraps. \u201cIn the meantime, why don\u2019t we have a seat over here by the fire.\u201d \u201cMa\u2019am, if I didn\u2019t know better, I\u2019d say you were so full of good news, you\u2019re gonna bust if you don\u2019t tell someone,\u201d Hoss remarked, as he fell in step beside Clara.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss Cartwright, YOU are a wonder!\u201d Clara marveled, her dark eyes shining. \u201cDo you know that?! You\u2019re an absolute wonder!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShucks, Ma\u2019am, I don\u2019t know so much about that,\u201d Hoss said modestly, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed slightly redder than usual. \u201cIt\u2019s the smile on your face that just won\u2019t quit. I ain\u2019t seen you smile like that since\u2014 \u201d He abruptly broke off, suddenly embarrassed. \u201cSorry, sometimes I talk too much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHoss, tonight there\u2019s no need to be sorry,\u201d Clara smiled and touched his massive forearm reassuringly. \u201cYou\u2019re absolutely right. Tom and I DO have good news. The BEST news!\u201d<\/p>\n Ben gestured for the Marlowes to take the settee with a broad sweep of his arm. \u201cSo, what\u2019s your good news?\u201d he asked, as he settled himself in the red leather easy chair, leaving Hoss the blue one on the other side of the coffee table.<\/p>\n \u201cWe got a wire, Ben, just this morning . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Tom gently touched his wife\u2019s hand, bringing her quick flow of words to an abrupt halt. \u201cWhy don\u2019t we wait until Joe and Stacy join us?\u201d he said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cOohh, alright!\u201d Clara acquiesced with the same intense reluctance of a two-year-old child.<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph . . . Stacy,\u201d Ben called to his two youngest children. \u201cGet a move on!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cComing, Pa!\u201d Joe emerged from the guestroom first, with Stacy following close at his heels. He took his place next to his father\u2019s chair, while Stacy sat down on the ottoman next to the chair occupied by Hoss.<\/p>\n \u201cOk, Clara, we\u2019re all here!\u201d Ben said, looking over at her expectantly. \u201cRachael?!\u201d Ben stammered, looking from Clara to Tom through eyes round with astonishment.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ben, RACHAEL!\u201d<\/p>\n Suddenly, the import of her words hit hard, like tumbling wall of bricks . \u201cWell I\u2019ll be . . . . y-you mean to tell me . . . they\u2019ve found Rachael?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ben!\u201d Clara squealed with glee.<\/p>\n \u201cShe was found living with a tribe of Chinook Indians up around the mouth of the Columbia River, in Oregon,\u201d Tom said. \u201cA troop of cavalry men, out on patrol, spotted her with a party of Indian women, and took her back to THEIR base at Fort Columbia.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe wire from Major Baldwin said Rachael arrived at Fort Charlotte a week ago,\u201d Clara, impatient in her excitement, seized up the reins of the story. \u201cOh, Ben, she\u2019s alive! She\u2019s alive! Alive, whole, and in one piece, none the worse for wear after her horrible ordeal among those . . . those ignorant, unwashed, heathen SAVAGES.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara\u2019s accompanying shudder with grotesque melodrama, ignited a flash of red within Stacy, momentarily blinding her to everyone and everything in the room with her. She abruptly turned from the fire toward Clara Marlowe, her eyes blazing with fury.<\/p>\n Before Stacy could open her mouth to speak the harsh words rising swiftly to her thoughts and tongue, she felt a large massive hand gently coming to rest on her shoulder. She turned and found herself staring into the face of her brother Hoss, silently begging her to hold her peace. Stacy had never, not in all the years since she had joined the Cartwright Family, HER family, had the heart to go against the biggest and gentlest of her brothers, especially when he looked at her that way. She exhaled soft, curt sigh of exasperation and sullenly averted her gaze to her hands folded in her lap.<\/p>\n \u201cClara, the Chinook are hardly unwashed and ignorant,\u201d Ben spoke quietly, yet with rock firm conviction. \u201cFor centuries, they, the Makah, and other tribes living through out Oregon, have been very well known for, not only their skills at hunting, fishing, even whaling, but for the extensive trade they\u2019ve established all up and down the Pacific coast. They\u2019re also very fine artists, musicians, and craftsmen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Ben, honestly! You\u2019re talking about uncivilized, primitive savages, who would kill you and steal all you have as much as look at you!\u201d<\/p>\n Ben silently sent forth a heartfelt prayer of thanks, grateful that no matter how riled his hot-tempered young daughter became, she always obeyed the unspoken pleas of the family peacemaker to hold her peace. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to his conversation with Clara.<\/p>\n \u201cThe Chinook and the Makah are also known for their PEACEFUL ways,\u201d Ben continued, taking care to keep his own voice measured, and even. \u201cIf they HAVE turned savage, then I can\u2019t say as I BLAME them, especially if the white men in Oregon have treated them as WE\u2019VE treated the Paiute and Shoshone HERE. In all honesty, Clara, I\u2019D be pretty savage, myself after awhile, with people who had forced me from my home, taken from me not only the ways and beliefs of my ancestors, but . . . my children as well . . . made promises to me, only to turn around and break them, or\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n Clara looked over at him askance. \u201cBen, you actually speak of them as if they were PEOPLE.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, they ARE people,\u201d Ben said, his own voice rising slightly, despite his valiant efforts. \u201cGranted, their ways and ours are very different, but\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBen, we haven\u2019t told you the best part of our news yet,\u201d Tom interjected quietly, in the hopes of averting the looming prospect of a bitter argument between his wife and host. \u201cRachael will be coming home to Virginia City on the four o\u2019clock stage day after tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTom . . . Clara, that IS wonderful news!\u201d Ben said, with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. \u201cI know you\u2019ve felt Rachael\u2019s loss very keenly over the past four years.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGoing on FIVE years, Ben,\u201d Clara said, her good humor restored. \u201cFive long horrid years of waiting and not knowing . . . wondering if we would EVER know . . . well, it\u2019s over! It\u2019s . . . ALL . . . OVER! Day after tomorrow our Rachael will finally come home, and things will FINALLY be back the way they SHOULD be.\u201d She wriggled and squealed like a small child, eagerly anticipating a birthday, or better, Christmas. \u201cI\u2019m on absolute pins and needles! I just plain and simply don\u2019t know how I\u2019m going to be able to stand it until four o\u2019clock, day after tomorrow!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, supper ready!\u201d Hop Sing announced tersely. \u201cEveryone come eat while food nice and hot!\u201d Without waiting for a reply, he abruptly turned heel and ambled back toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n \u201cWell! You heard the man, uhh, Lady! . . . Young Woman, and Gentlemen!\u201d Ben said. He was mildly surprised to note the absence of the triumphant smile that usually appeared on his daughter\u2019s face whenever he caught himself before making that dreadful mistake of referring to her as a young lady.<\/p>\n \u201cFinally!\u201d Hoss rose, his eyes gleaming with eager anticipation of the feast ahead. \u201cI\u2019m hungry enough to eat a twenty mule train.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m famished myself,\u201d Clara said.<\/p>\n \u201cMay I have the honor o\u2019 escortin\u2019 you to the dinin\u2019 room, Mrs. Marlowe?\u201d Hoss asked, offering his arm.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you may,\u201d Clara giggled with pure delight, as she demurely rested her dainty hand on Hoss\u2019 forearm.<\/p>\n \u201cBen, I haven\u2019t seen Clare so animated since . . . well, since we learned of Rachael\u2019s disappearance,\u201d Tom said, his eyes resting affectionately on his wife\u2019s retreating form. \u201cFor the past four going on five years, she\u2019s hardly eaten, she hasn\u2019t seen anyone, except Mrs. Lind and Mrs. Sutcliff, she\u2019s barely stepped foot outside our front door, and I honestly can\u2019t remember when she last put more than two words together.\u201d His smile faded. \u201cI was afraid, Ben. I was SO AFRAID!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand, Tom,\u201d Ben said, silently noting out of the corner of his eye that Stacy had not moved from her place on the ottoman next to the fireplace. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you and Joseph go on in to the dining room? I\u2019ll be right along.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom nodded, then fell in step alongside Joe.<\/p>\n Ben, meanwhile, returned to the fireplace where Stacy remained seated on the ottoman, staring morosely into the blazing fire. He sat down on the coffee table next to her and gently touched her shoulder. \u201cStacy?\u201d<\/p>\n She started at his touch and the sound of his voice.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Ben immediately apologized. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to startle you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c \u2018S ok, Pa,\u201d she said in a melancholy tone.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m also sorry Fort Charlotte had to come up in conversation. I know it doesn\u2019t hold much in the way of good memories for you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do have ONE good memory about Fort Charlotte,\u201d Stacy said. \u201cI met you, Hoss, and Joe there.\u201d Her voice broke on the last word.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you going to be alright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you talking about eventually or . . . or within the next few minutes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBoth,\u201d Ben replied.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be ok eventually,\u201d Stacy sighed. \u201cThe next few minutes . . . . \u201d She mutely shook her head. \u201cPa, may I pleased be excused?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlright,\u201d Ben quietly gave permission. \u201cWe\u2019ll talk later.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n The evening passed quickly. As the grandfather clock next to the door struck the hour of ten o\u2019clock, Ben, Hoss, and Joe stood with their guests at the front door.<\/p>\n \u201cBen, it was a delightful evening,\u201d Tom said, smiling broadly. He took his heavy, fleece-lined jacket from Joe, and slipped it on with a shiver. His smile faded. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry Stacy wasn\u2019t feeling well.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow don\u2019t you worry about my little sister, Mister Marlowe,\u201d Joe said, returning Tom\u2019s smile. \u201cThat kid\u2019s got the constitution of a ferocious grizzly bear. She\u2019ll be over what\u2019s ailing her in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph Cartwright, that\u2019s no proper way to talk about a young lady even if she IS your sister,\u201d Clara chided him lightly, as Hoss carefully placed her cape over her bony shoulders.<\/p>\n \u201cMa\u2019am, whatever you do, DON\u2019T EVER call Stacy that to her face,\u201d Joe said, his eyes darting to the staircase. \u201cI can guarantee things\u2019ll get real ugly, real quick.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s very true, Ma\u2019am,\u201d Hoss agreed wholeheartedly. \u201cStacy hates bein\u2019 called a young lady worse \u2018n just about anything.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOohh, that\u2019s so silly!\u201d Clara carelessly laughed it off.<\/p>\n \u201cWhether it\u2019s silly or not doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d Ben said with heartfelt sincerity. \u201cWhat DOES matter are Stacy\u2019s feelings.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh honestly, Ben, she\u2019s just a GIRL for heaven\u2019s sake! Not much more than a CHILD! You\u2019re making a big deal out of nothing at all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, even though Stacy IS a girl, not much beyond childhood, what she thinks and feels matters just as much to me as what my sons, Adam, Hoss, and Joe think and feel.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course Stacy\u2019s thoughts and feelings matter, but even YOU have to admit that . . . . well, a young girl\u2019s thoughts and feelings are more frivolous, more capricious than a young man\u2019s, especially since you\u2019ve already raised three fine sons.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI admit no such thing,\u201d Ben said very quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Ben, honestly! How can you possibly say that?\u201d Clara laughed, then sobered. \u201cOf course you\u2019ve been widowed for quite a long time, and for many years it\u2019s just been you and your boys. But, you take it from me, who\u2019s been the mother of a daughter for fourteen years . . . you, by and large, take their thoughts and feelings with a grain of salt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEver since Stacy became part of this family, I\u2019ve had this growing . . . sense? Gut feeling, perhaps? . . . that our society as a whole tells girls and women that their thoughts and feelings don\u2019t matter to anyone. It\u2019s the same as saying THEY don\u2019t matter. Maybe that\u2019s why so many have all the emotional problems they do.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara looked over at Ben, open-mouthed with shock for a moment, then burst out into a peal of mirthless laughter. \u201cHonestly, Ben, where DO you come by these funny notions?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps it\u2019s insight that\u2019s come with being the father of a daughter as well as sons.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019m NOT going to argue with you, Ben!\u201d Clara said lightly with a touch of impatience. \u201cWith the prospect of Rachael\u2019s homecoming, I\u2019m much too happy tonight to argue with you or anyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben, his sons, and the Marlowes stepped out on to the porch as Carlton drove the Victoria right up to the front step.<\/p>\n \u201cThanks again for having Clara and me over this evening, Ben,\u201d Tom said. Ben watched as the Marlowes\u2019 driver deftly helped Clara climb up into the Victoria then covered her with a brightly hued woolen blanket. Tom climbed in next to his wife while Carlton climbed into the drivers seat and took up the reins. Tom smiled and waved once more as the Victoria pulled away from the house, and headed out toward the road.<\/p>\n \u201cDadburn it! Pa, I hate t\u2019 say this, but I think Hop Sing shouldda stuffed that apple in Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s mouth, instead o\u2019 the pig\u2019s,\u201d Hoss muttered under his breath, after the Marlowes had left.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is one time I agree whole heartedly with Big Brother here,\u201d Joe said, scowling.<\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe\u2019s remarks WERE uncalled for and completely out of line,\u201d Ben said gravely, as he ushered both his sons inside out of the cold. \u201cBut, for the time being, please try and remember that Mister and Mrs. Marlowe spent the last five years not knowing whether Rachael was alive or dead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa, surely you don\u2019t agree with\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot at all, Joseph,\u201d Ben quietly, yet succinctly nipped his youngest son\u2019s passionate tirade in the bud. \u201cBut, I DO understand where they\u2019re coming from as parents. I know Rachael\u2019s been found and she\u2019s coming home. But Tom and Clara faced the very real prospect of NEVER knowing what had become of Rachael. Facing the prospect of always wondering . . . of never knowing for the rest of your life\u2014 \u201d He shuddered. \u201cYou boys, and Stacy, too, will understand better when you have your own children.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe, after Rachael\u2019s been home awhile, Mrs. Marlowe\u2019ll come to her senses an\u2019 not think so badly about the Chinook,\u201d Hoss suggested hopefully.<\/p>\n \u201cI sure hope so, Big Brother,\u201d Joe said with a yawn. \u201cI don\u2019t know about the two of you, but . . . tonight\u2019s kind of tired me out. I\u2019m gonna go ahead and turn in.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMe, too, Pa,\u201d Hoss said. \u201cYou comin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot just yet,\u201d Ben said. \u201cGood night, Boys.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss and Joe bade their father good night, then turned and made their way upstairs.<\/p>\n Ben slowly ambled over toward the fireplace, pausing briefly to remove his jacket, and vest. He very carefully draped both over the back of the settee before sitting down, and loosening his string tie.<\/p>\n His thoughts drifted to Clara Marlowe. She was as shallow as she was vivacious, her primary interests revolving around the social scene, gossip, and the latest in fashion. Clara\u2019s attention constantly flitted from one endeavor to another, leaving a long string of unfinished projects over the years, because she had grown bored all too quickly. On the whole, she was too vapid an individual to ever harbor any kind of deep-seated hatred. That was the way she had always seemed to Ben, anyway . . . .<\/p>\n But tonight, her words, spoken with a malice Ben had never before heard in her voice deeply disturbed him, and stirred nebulous feelings of foreboding within. As Ben stared into the flames, still burning bright and warm in the massive, gray stone fireplace before him, his troubled thoughts drifted back to the time he, Hoss, and Joe first met Stacy at Fort Charlotte . . . .<\/p>\n He stood leaning against the corral fence sadly watching Stacy and his sons putting some of the horses brought to the fort from the Ponderosa through their paces. Their obvious happiness and the sheer delight of sharing each other\u2019s company wrenched his heart. He had just gotten word from the fort commander, Major Stephen Baldwin, that Stacy would be accompanying Mrs. Vivian Crawleigh to the Lucia Hayes Churchill Home for Orphans and Foundlings in Ohio. Now, as he watched his sons and the girl he had in so short a time already come to love and think of as daughter, he wondered how in the world he was ever going to break the devastating news to them.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright?\u201d It was Sergeant Dashel McGuinness, the man in charge of the horses at the fort, and the only one who had managed to earn a small measure of Stacy\u2019s trust, albeit wary and guarded.<\/em><\/p>\n Ben started, but quickly recovered his composure. \u201cSorry, Sergeant, my . . . my thoughts were elsewhere . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI know,\u201d Sergeant McGuinness said quietly, his eyes following the line of Ben\u2019s vision to Hoss, Joe, and Stacy. \u201cI need to speak with you about Stacy Louise.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n The note of urgency he had heard in the sergeant\u2019s tone caught and held his attention. \u201cWhat is it, Sergeant?\u201d he asked, focusing his attention to the young man in blue uniform standing next to him.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I had a sister once, an older sister who was abducted during an Indian raid out on the plains,\u201d Dashel began haltingly. \u201cShe lived among them for two and a half, maybe three years. Lucinda was a little older than Stacy Louise is now, when SHE was taken . . . she came back about . . . about three months before her sixteenth birthday\u2014 \u201dHe broke off, unable to continue.<\/em><\/p>\n Ben placed a comforting, paternal hand on the younger man\u2019s shoulder, and offered him the same reassuring smile he would offer his own sons in a similar exchange.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cLucinda changed during the years she lived among the Indians,\u201d Dashel said sadly. \u201cTheir culture . . . their way of living . . . so different from our culture and our ways!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n He told Ben of the night before her sixteenth birthday, how Lucinda, sobbing with a depth of despair he had never, before or since, heard from the heart of another human being, told him of her betrothal to a young hunter known among his people as Thundering Buffalo.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThe way she described him . . . a big man, yet gentle . . . reminds me a lot of your son, Hoss, Mister Cartwright,\u201d Dashel continued. \u201cShe loved him. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in the way she spoke of him . . . and . . . I felt it, in the depths of her grief and longing for him. It was like a thousand stab wounds to my own heart.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n A thousand stab wounds that had never healed. Ben saw that with crystal clarity.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMa and Pa loved Lucinda and were overjoyed to have her back, but they were repulsed by her, too. They expected her to be the same child who was taken away from them three years before. She WASN\u2019T. She had grown and changed too much to ever go back to being the girl she was. Ma and Pa just couldn\u2019t bring themselves to accept that. Looking back? I think they honestly saw the time Lucinda lived among the Indians as one of them as . . . as a mere footnote that could be easily erased.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMa and Pa figured Lucinda\u2019d forget all about her life among the Indians if they could get her back among white people again. Her own kind was the way Pa put it. Her birthday seemed to them like a good excuse to do just that. They planned this big sweet sixteen party for Lucinda and invited all<\/em> her friends.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, it was a disaster! A horrible, horrible disaster! Her friends, the girls, chattered like a bunch of magpies about the next Saturday night dance, their dresses, who they wanted to ask them . . . while Lucinda mourned the loss of a man she loved and was set to marry. The boys talked on and on about how savage and cruel the Indians are, how the only GOOD Indian is a dead Indian . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI can still see her, Mister Cartwright. I can see her right now just as clearly as I saw her then . . . alone, silent, miserable . . . while the party guests chatted amongst themselves, sang songs at the piano, and danced without her. I don\u2019t think they even noticed her absence. THAT broke my heart more than anything!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened to Lucinda?\u201d Ben probed gently.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThat night? Mother stepped into her room to see how she was sleeping . . . make sure she had enough covers\u2014 \u201d The sergeant\u2019s face contorted with agony, and his hands began to tremble. \u201cI was awakened from a sound sleep by the sound of Ma screaming.\u201d He took a deep, ragged breath. \u201cI\u2019d never . . . ever . . . in my entire life heard anyone scream like that. I-I hope to God I never do again!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cSergeant McGuinness, you don\u2019t have to tell me this if\u2014 \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYes, I do, Mister Cartwright, for Stacy Louise\u2019s sake, I HAVE to finish!\u201d He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then another. \u201cMy father, my older brother, and I reached Lucinda\u2019s room at the s-same time. We found Mother lying across Lucinda\u2019s empty bed, out cold. Lucinda . . . oh dear God! Lucinda was dead, her body hanging by a sheet from one of the r-rafters over head.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Sergeant,\u201d Ben murmured sympathetically. \u201cWhat does this have to do with Stacy?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you SEE, Mister Cartwright? Stacy Louise reminds me so very much of Lucinda\u2014 \u201d The sergeant\u2019s eyes, glistening with unshed tears in the light of the late afternoon sun. \u201cY-you\u2019ve got to find someway to take her with YOU.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Ben remembered again the cold knot of fear that had coalesced in the pit of his stomach.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYou and your sons understand and accept her the way she is! I-I\u2019m not sure I understand the how or why\u2014 \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWe LOVE her very much the way she is,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cI never had a daughter, but if I did I\u2019d want her to be exactly like Stacy.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThen, please! Make sure Stacy Louise goes with you, even if you have to stuff her in a saddle bag and sneak her out of this fort,\u201d McGuinness begged. \u201cIf she goes to that orphanage in Ohio, Mrs. Crawleigh\u2019s going to do to that girl what my ma and pa did to Lucinda . . . only it\u2019ll be a thousand times WORSE because . . . well, deep down my parents DID love Lucinda, and honestly thought they were doing what was best for her. Mrs. Crawleigh, on the other hand, DOESN\u2019T love Stacy Louise, any more than she loves any of the other children in living in that home she runs in Ohio. She does what she does because it\u2019s her bounden duty to do so. Mister Cartwright, YOU\u2019RE the only real chance Stacy Louise HAS . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 2<\/p>\n Lucinda McGuinness\u2019 ghost rolled into Ben\u2019s troubled thoughts, as those thick pea-souper fogs, he remembered from all years spent living in Boston, rolled in from the sea. He remembered Sergeant Dashel McGuinness showing him a photograph of his sister, just prior to their departure from Fort Charlotte. Set in a simple oval shaped wood frame, the picture showed young woman, a little younger than Stacy now, with light hair, egg-shaped face, with narrow chin and delicate features. A far cry indeed from Stacy\u2019s dark hair, her square shaped face, with wide jaw line, and strong, even facial features.<\/p>\n Tonight, however, Lucinda McGuinness\u2019 tragic ghost wore Stacy\u2019s face in the steady stream of poignant images that appeared, then faded within the ebb and flow of Ben\u2019s conscious thought. Images of a lonely young woman, isolated by experiences that came of having lived a life completely alien to those around her. Forbidden to speak of that life and those experiences with family and friends, and unable to return to the life she once led, she ended her all too brief time on earth at the end of a rope, in a final act of hopeless desperation.<\/p>\n \u201cMy parents LOVED her . . . but they were REPULSED by her, too.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Sergeant McGuinness\u2019 words echoed, and re-echoed through the silent recesses of Ben\u2019s mind and thoughts.<\/p>\n There, but for the grace of God, could have gone his own beloved daughter. If Commander Baldwin HAD turned her over to the likes of Mrs. Crawleigh, or, if they had made that trip to Fort Charlotte a month later, as they had originally planned . . . .<\/p>\n Ben shuddered.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n The sound of Stacy\u2019s voice drew Ben from his melancholy reverie. She stood beside him, clad now in a long, flannel nightshirt, and robe, gazing down at him anxiously.<\/p>\n \u201cPa, are you alright? For a minute there, you looked like you\u2019d seen the ghost of someone you love very much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . think maybe I did,\u201d Ben replied. He shuddered again.<\/p>\n \u201cYou SURE you\u2019re alright?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben looked up, his dark brown eyes meeting her bright blue ones, and held out his hand. Stacy immediately placed her hand in his, and allowing him to draw her over to the settee. It would never cease to amaze him how easily this daughter of his could read HIM sometimes, zeroing in on his thoughts, as she did just now, with more precision and accuracy than even the most deadly of gunslingers. Fey child, according to her mother.<\/p>\n Stacy sat down on the settee beside him, and nestled close. Ben slipped his arms around her, tonight taking comfort from her presence here and now. He silently offered up a prayer of deep gratitude for whatever circumstances had prompted Major Baldwin to change his mind at the eleventh hour, allowing the child-woman now resting securely in the circle of his arms to accompany him, Hoss, and Joe home from Fort Charlotte that day. For a time, they remained thus, watching the fire slowly diminish in companionable silence.<\/p>\n \u201cI love you, Pa,\u201d she said quietly, at length.<\/p>\n \u201cI love you, too, Stacy,\u201d Ben said. He looked down into her face, and smiled. \u201cReady for that talk?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded solemnly.<\/p>\n Ben gave her an affectionate squeeze, then rose. He walked over to the fireplace and added an armload of kindling to the dying fire. Returning to the settee, he sat back down next to Stacy, and placed a reassuring arm around her shoulders. \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t like the way Mrs. Marlowe kept on referring to the Chinook as ignorant, unwashed, heathen savages, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNeither did I.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was ready to belt her one right in the gob.\u201d Another Irish turn of phrase picked up from the brief time she had with her mother or possibly from Molly O\u2019Hanlan\u2019s feisty older sister, Colleen Nikolas. \u201cIf Hoss hadn\u2019t stopped me, I WOULD have.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAfter they left, Hoss said that Hop Sing should have stuffed the apple in Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s mouth instead of the roast pig\u2019s,\u201d Ben said.<\/p>\n The thought of Mrs. Marlowe lying trussed on a platter with an apple stuffed in her mouth brought a smile to Stacy\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cI should\u2019ve told her to cease and desist when she started talking that way about the Chinook. I\u2019m sorry now that I didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou DID try to set her straight, but she wouldn\u2019t listen,\u201d Stacy said dolefully, then sighed. \u201cPa, between you and me? I don\u2019t think Mrs. Marlowe EVER listens . . . not to ANYONE! Unless it\u2019s something SHE really wants to hear.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBetween you and me, Young Woman, you\u2019re right, ESPECIALLY when she\u2019s excited and happy like she was tonight.\u201d Ben fell silent for a moment. \u201cStacy . . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want you to try and understand about Mrs. Marlowe . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Stacy opened her mouth to protest.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease, hear me out,\u201d Ben said earnestly. \u201cYou CAN understand how a person feels without agreeing with him, or HER in this case. You remember how close Mrs. Marlowe and Rachael were to each other?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded. \u201cThey were like two peas in a pod, as Hoss would say.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen Rachael left on a trip that was supposed to last a summer . . . three months, but she ended up staying away for almost five YEARS,\u201d Ben continued. \u201cIn all that time, Mister and Mrs. Marlowe didn\u2019t know whether Rachael was alive or dead, and probably wondered . . . if she WAS alive, was she sick, in pain, being tortured?! Not easy things for a mother or father to live with!\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy knew from the look on her father\u2019s face that he spoke truly, even if she couldn\u2019t fully empathize. \u201cNo, I guess not.\u201d She fell silent for a moment, then turned and looked up at him earnestly. \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s going to happen to Rachael Marlowe?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe arrives in Virginia City on the four o\u2019clock stage tomorrow,\u201d Ben said slowly, \u201cand I imagine she\u2019ll go and live with her parents.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut what\u2019s going to happen?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not sure I understand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou heard the way Mrs. Marlowe was talking. She kept saying now that Rachael\u2019s ordeal was all over, that things would be the way they should be, things would be the way they WERE.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cPa, things WON\u2019T be the way they were. They CAN\u2019T be!\u201d<\/p>\n Ben was mildly surprised to see that she was on the edge of tears. He dug into his pocket and removed a clean, though wrinkled, handkerchief and placed it in her hands. He, then, offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. \u201cWhen Mrs. Marlowe spoke of things being the way they should be, I took it to mean being a family again when Rachael comes home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI sure hope you\u2019re right, Pa . . . and I\u2019M dead wrong!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did YOU think they meant?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI kept getting the idea that Mrs. Marlowe expects Rachael to be the exact same way she was when she left.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy\u2019s words intensified that nagging sense of foreboding that had been with Ben since the Marlowes announced that their daughter was finally coming home.<\/p>\n \u201cI think maybe what I really want to know is whether or not Rachael\u2019s going to be alright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe question of whether or not Rachael\u2019s going to be alright is mostly going to be up to Rachael herself, Young Woman, but I think I know of a way to kind of help her along.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally? How, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAfter Rachael\u2019s had a few days to . . . well, to be with her parents, and get herself settled, maybe we could invite her out to the Ponderosa to spend a day,\u201d Ben suggested, then smiled. \u201cI happen to know of someone right here who, I\u2019m sure, understands very well how Rachael might feel.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy\u2019s entire face lit up at the prospect. \u201cCan we, Pa? Can we really?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, we can and we will.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks, Pa!\u201d Stacy favored him with a big bear hug.<\/p>\n \u201cYou feel a little better about things?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded. \u201cHow about YOU, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I feel a lot better about things . . . for now,\u201d Ben said, \u201cand THAT being the case, Young Woman, I\u2019d suggest we both get on upstairs and turn in. It\u2019s well past our bedtimes.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Clara Marlowe sat in the pale green upholstered easy chair of her bedroom, with the shades and curtains drawn against the bright morning sun, attired in a white nightgown and pink silk wrapper, belted at the waist with a matching wide sash. The carriage clock on her dresser, painted with delicate pink roses and pastel green leaves over a background of pristine white, chimed the hour of nine o\u2019clock.<\/p>\n By the dim light of a sputtering oil lamp, its wick nearly spent, she gazed despondently at the framed oil painted miniature tenderly cradled in her hands. It was a painting of Rachael, given to her as an early birthday present four years ago now . . . almost five . . . .<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be in Oregon visiting Gram and Aunt Sara when your birthday comes \u2018round,\u201d Rachael had said, gleefully pressing a small package, carefully wrapped in pink paper and silver ribbon, into Clara\u2019s outstretched hands. Her words tumbled out of her mouth one after the other, like a waterfall cascading down the face of a cliff. Her dark brown hair was unruly, as always, and her brown eyes glowed with excitement. \u201cWell? Aren\u2019t you going to open it?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps I should save it for when my birthday comes, Darling.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNo, no, no, Mama! I want you to open it right now this very second. I want to see your face when you see what\u2019s inside.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cAlright, Rachael,\u201d Clara murmured indulgently.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a little something to remember me by while I\u2019m away.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Clara untied the ribbon and carefully unwrapped the package, while Rachael eagerly looked on, hopping back and forth from one foot to the other. The wrapping paper slipped away revealing the exquisite miniature, framed in gold. The artist had completely captured Rachael\u2019s joie de vivre, in the sparkling brown eyes and broad smile, just short of breaking into an infectious belly laugh.<\/em><\/p>\n Little did either of them realize back then, that Rachael\u2019s trip to Oregon would last nearly five long miserable years . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n Clara exhaled a soft, melancholy sigh as she tenderly placed the miniature on the night table beside her chair, face down. Almost five years ago, her lively, vivacious Rachael had climbed aboard a stage to visit her aunt and grandmother in Oregon. Three days ago, a sullen, silent stranger returned to Virginia City in her stead . . . .<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Tom! Tom! Look! Here she comes! Here she comes!\u201d Clara clapped her hands together, and jumped up and down like an excited child who had just learned that her family\u2019s taking her to the circus. <\/em><\/p>\n After a dreadful eternity of watching the stage move down the street toward the depot, it finally came to rest a few feet away from where she and her husband stood waiting.<\/em> The first to emerge was a tall woman, given to plumpness, aged in her mid-forties. Her brown hair, generously laced with strands of silver was styled in a sensible French twist. She wore a plain blue traveling suit, a matching pillbox hat, and white blouse. The woman immediately turned to Clara and Tom. \u201cMister and Mrs. Marlowe?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYes, that\u2019s us!\u201d Clara said in a cool, aloof tone.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m Mrs. Baldwin,\u201d the woman introduced herself. \u201cMy husband is the commander at Fort Charlotte. I\u2019m traveling on to Carson City to see family, so I offered to bring your daughter to Virginia City.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Clara\u2019s initial haughty reserve melted quickly into a demeanor of smiling sunshine and light. \u201cThank you so much, Mrs. Baldwin,\u201d she gushed. \u201cThat was very kind of you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Mrs. Baldwin nodded curtly, then turned her attention to the stagecoach. \u201cRachael, you\u2019re home.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n The young woman stepping next from the stage wore a knee length fringed buckskin dress, with boot-like moccasins, and a necklace of sea shells, coral, and carved pieces of bone. Her dark hair was plaited into a single, thick braid, reaching nearly to her waist, and she wore a headband made from hand carved beads of shell, bone, coral, and the hard to cut purple undersides of clam shells. She stiffly held her hands close to her body, just below her breasts. In them she clutched a single drawstring bag, fashioned from some kind of animal skin.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cOh, Darling, Darling, Darling, you\u2019re home!\u201d Clara cried, as she caught Rachael up in her arms. \u201cYou\u2019re finally home! Oh Rachael Darling, I\u2019ve missed you so much!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cHello, Mama. Hello, Papa.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Rachael made no move to return Clara\u2019s embrace. Instead, she stood stiff and rigid within the tight circle of her mother\u2019s arms. That and the sound of her voice speaking in a dull, lifeless monotone shocked Clara like a bucket of ice cold water, abruptly thrown in her face. She pulled back slightly, and looked up. Rachael\u2019s face was an unreadable, impassive mask, set in granite. Her dark eyes were twin pools of flat, lifeless black, with not even the slightest sparkle to animate them.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cSuch a long trip! You must be exhausted, Darling,\u201d Clara whispered, her smile tremulous. \u201cTom . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYes, Clara?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you take Rachael and get her settled in the Victoria?\u201d The words tumbled past Clara\u2019s tips in a nervous rush. \u201cI\u2019ll arrange to have her luggage\u2014 \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201c . . . . uuhh, Ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYes, Driver?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYour daughter the squaw woman?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Clara gasped in shock and outrage. \u201cMy daughter is most certainly and assuredly not a SQUAW WOMAN.\u201d She furiously spat those last two words. \u201cI\u2019ll have you know that MY DAUGHTER happens to be a well born, genteelly raised, civilized young lady who had the horrible misfortune of having been abducted and held prisoner by savages for the last five years.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cClara . . . . \u201d Tom appeared at her side and gently touched her arm. \u201cClara, please don\u2019t.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI MUST, Tom, I must!\u201d she insisted, on the edge of angry tears. \u201cJust because Rachael was no doubt FORCED to wear that . . . that . . . that FILTHY animal hide, and\u2014 \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMa\u2019am, I . . . I\u2019m s-sorry . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cDriver, if you would hand down our daughter\u2019s luggage?\u201d Tom ordered.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYour daughter has no luggage, Sir.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWHAT?!\u201d Clara shrieked, as Rachael ventured over, still clutching her animal skin bag.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMa\u2019am, your daughter has no luggage,\u201d the driver reiterated. \u201cShe boarded the stage in the company of Mrs. Baldwin with only the clothes on her back.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cOH DEAR GOD! TOM! TOM, THOSE . . . THOSE HORRID, FILTHY SAVAGES STOLE ALL OF RACHAEL\u2019S NICE PRETTY THINGS . . . ALL THOSE LOVELY FROCKS . . . I CAN\u2019T BEAR IT! I SIMPLY CAN\u2019T BEAR IT!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cClara, please. Let\u2019s go home.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Clara turned and saw Rachael standing behind Tom, her posture stiffly erect, still clutching the leather, draw-string bag in both hands.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cRACHAEL, GIVE ME THAT FILTHY THING!\u201d Clara cried, reaching out her hand to snatch that horrid animal skin bag from her daughter\u2019s clutches.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d Rachael wrapped both hands even tighter around the bag and pressed it close to her heart, clinging to it for dear life.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cRACHAEL . . . . \u201d Clara reached out to snatch way that bag, a horrid, filthy thing in her own mind, a worthy candidate for the ashbin out back behind the kitchen.<\/em><\/p>\n Rachael, with a guttural cry, pivoted and turned the bag away from her mother, clutching it more tightly than ever.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cRachael, you give me that . . . that THING, and you give it to me right NOW!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cClara . . . . \u201d Tom stopped her with a warning look and a gentle, feathery touch to her shoulder.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cTOM . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cLeave it alone, Clara,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cFor now, please! Just leave it alone!\u201d Tom turned his attention to Rachael, still clinging tightly to her animal skin bag. She drew back when he touched her arm, but when she realized he had no intention of trying to take her bag, she fell in step beside him.<\/em><\/p>\n Clara stood unmoving, as if rooted to the spot, staring at the retreating backs of her husband and daughter in complete and utter shock.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Clara slowly, almost painfully turned and found herself looking up into the kind face of Mrs. Baldwin.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe, we\u2019ve had a fair number of young people pass through Fort Charlotte who had been abducted in Indian raids in the years my husband has been fort commander,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cIncluding a young lady who went to live with a family from near here, as I recall . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThat would be Stacy Cartwright,\u201d Clara said irritably. \u201cHer father is a very old and dear friend of ours . . . Mister Benjamin Cartwright, of the Ponderosa. Do you have a POINT to make?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Mrs. Baldwin stared over at Clara Marlowe, speechless, taken aback by her sudden ire. \u201cAs a matter of fact, yes, I DO have a point to make, Mrs. Marlowe,\u201d she said stiffly upon finding her voice. \u201cThe ways of the Indians are very different from our ways.\u201d She shook her head. \u201cThe abductees lucky enough to return home have to learn all over again how to live in OUR society. The girls always seem to have a tougher time of it than the boys.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cW-what are you saying, Mrs. Baldwin?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThat Rachael is going to need a lot of time and patience to readjust.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNonsense!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe, please . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Clara Marlowe drew herself up to full regal height and cast a withering glare at Mrs. Baldwin. \u201cMrs. Baldwin, I think I\u2019M the better judge of what\u2019s best for MY daughter,\u201d she snapped. Before the other woman had even the slightest chance to form a response, Clara whipped around a full one hundred eighty degrees and flounced off after her husband and daughter at the briskest pace good deportment deemed allowable . . . .<\/em><\/p>\n In the dreadful three days that followed, Clara had kept up a lively stream of chatter, catching Rachael up on all the news about her friends. Her very dearest and best friend Katy Snodgres moved in on the young man Rachael had cast HER eye upon before making that trip to Oregon, barely a year after news of Rachael\u2019s disappearance had reached Virginia City. Now the pair of them were engaged to be married.<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and they had the nerve . . . the colossal NERVE to actually send US . . . your father and me . . . an invitation to the wedding!\u201d Clara had declared in tones of pure outrage. \u201cWell, we\u2019re going to cut them dead socially, I promise you that, My Darling. All of our friends will, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n Clara looked over at her daughter askance.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy are you and your friends going to cut Katy and . . . and . . . . \u201d Rachael frowned trying to recall the young man\u2019s name.<\/p>\n \u201cDesmond, Darling. Desmond Peters!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy cut Katy and Desmond dead, Mama?\u201d<\/p>\n Clara simply couldn\u2019t believe her ears.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, I have not so much as THOUGHT of Desmond since the day I left here to go to Oregon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, out of sight, out of mind, I suppose . . . . \u201d Clara said in a dismissive tone, the wind stolen from her angry sails.<\/p>\n She, then, went on to report with a faint malicious glee how poor Susan Murphy was plumper now, more than ever, poor thing, since that Sutcliff boy dumped her and how all winter long she sought solace and comfort at the table. Jenny Lind wore a bright yellow dress to the big dance last Saturday night that clashed mightily with her carrot color hair. So Clara thought! Green would have been far more complimentary, the girl should certainly know better by now . . . and Angela Griffith! That audacious little tramp brazenly threw herself at Lee Mayhew at the same dance last Saturday. \u201cYou should\u2019ve SEEN that dress she wore! Darling, that dress was so tight, I\u2019ll bet anything she was poured into it, and that neckline, WELL! It was so low cut, it left nothing . . . virtually NOTHING to the imagination.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael seemed uninterested, even bored.<\/p>\n Tom seemed to have better luck with Rachael conversationally. He, at least, was able to occasionally draw out one-syllable answers to questions. It seemed the days, when Clara and Rachael wholly dominated mealtime conversation with gossip, talk of the next social functions, what they were going to wear, were gone.<\/p>\n Worst of all Rachael had actually flat out rejected all the lovely new clothes Clara had purchased for her, without so much as sparing them so much as a passing glance. She insisted on wearing that appalling Indian costume, until Clara in an act of pure desperation, decreed that horrid thing was to be taken out to the trash pit and burned. Rachael shrieked at the top of her lungs, like some kind of a wild animal, fighting literally tooth and nail, with the ferocity of an enraged cougar, to keep that . . . thing. It took all six of the upstairs maids to hold her down. Everyone, including herself, sustained cuts and bruises, courtesy of her daughter\u2019s kicking legs, flailing fists, and raking nails. Rachael had even gone so far as to bite poor little Mary Lu\u2019s wrist.<\/p>\n Clara was and still remained mortified.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n A discreet knock on her bedroom door roused Clara from her melancholy musings.<\/p>\n \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCatherine, Ma\u2019am. You have two visitors come to call. Jenkins has shown them to the drawing room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho is it?\u201d Clara groaned. She had every intention of instructing the maid to inform the morning callers waiting in the drawing room downstairs that she was terribly indisposed.<\/p>\n \u201cMa\u2019am, it\u2019s Ben Cartwright and his daughter, Stacy.\u201d<\/p>\n Her posture straightened. \u201cDid you say Ben Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHave Jenkins offer them refreshment and tell them I\u2019ll be there directly.\u201d Clara flew out of her chair like a shot. \u201cStacy!\u201d she murmured. \u201cStacy was abducted and lived among the Paiutes . . . maybe SHE can reach poor Rachael.\u201d She bolted out of her chair like a shot and stuffed every strand of her mussed hair under the confines of the matching pink mobcap, lying across her lap. Clara applied a touch of rouge to her lips, and deemed herself half way presentable.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n The Cartwrights rose politely when Clara Marlowe finally entered the room. \u201cGood morning, Clara,\u201d Ben smiled, removed his hat and nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cGood morning, Mrs. Marlowe,\u201d Stacy said politely.<\/p>\n \u201cI DO hope you\u2019ll both forgive me for receiving you thus,\u201d Clara said as she gestured for her guests to sit down. \u201cI\u2019m afraid I\u2019ve been somewhat indisposed over the last couple of days. Looks like Stacy\u2019s infirmity the other night was contagious.\u201d This last drew a very sharp glance from Stacy.<\/p>\n \u201cClara, I\u2019M the one who should apologize for dropping in on you unannounced like this,\u201d Ben apologized quickly. \u201cWe\u2019ll come back another time, when you\u2019re feeling better.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s quite alright, Ben,\u201d Clara said quickly. \u201cI AM feeling much, MUCH better today.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy and I thought maybe Rachael might like to come out to the Ponderosa, and spend the day with us,\u201d Ben said, as he and Stacy seated themselves on the settee.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a wonderful idea!\u201d Clara declared with a smile. She lowered her voice to a confidential decibel. \u201cThe poor dear hasn\u2019t set foot outside this house since she arrived home three days ago, and she woke up this morning feeling a trifle under the weather herself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry to hear that, Clara. Perhaps we should postpone things until Rachael\u2019s feeling better.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNonsense, Ben! It\u2019s probably passed by now, it always does! In any case all that nice fresh air and sunshine will do Rachael an absolute world of good! It might even be just the fix-me-up to CURE whatever\u2019s ailing her!\u201d Clara shot right out of her chair to her feet. \u201cI\u2019ll just ring Marjorie, and ask her to go up and fetch Rachael down.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Dear?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy bristled against the faint condescending note she heard in the woman\u2019s voice. \u201cWould you mind if I went up to see Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n Clara frowned for a moment, then brightened. \u201cYes, that would be lovely having the invitation come from you directly. I\u2019ll have Marjorie take you up.\u201d She bounded across the room, and pulled the yellow and white tasseled cord hanging alongside the fireplace.<\/p>\n Marjorie Klein, the Marlowes\u2019 head housekeeper, appeared a scant moment later. Aged in her early thirties, she was of average height, with a mop of honey brown ringlets cropped close to her head. She wore a dark brown skirt, simply tailored, and a white long sleeved blouse, with a high collar, buttoned to the very top button. \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMarjorie, please escort Miss Cartwright upstairs to Rachael\u2019s room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am. If you\u2019d come with me, Miss Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy rose, and followed the maid out of the drawing room. \u201cMa\u2019am, would you do me a big favor?\u201d she asked as they made their way toward the stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cI would be more than happy to do so, Miss Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen please, drop the Miss Cartwright? That\u2019s my pa\u2019s cousin\u2019s name.\u201d She grimaced. \u201cMY name\u2019s Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, yes, Miss Clarissa Cartwright! I\u2019ve certainly heard all about HER last visit to Virginia City!\u201d The maid smiled. \u201cI\u2019ll agree to your request on one condition.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . . and that is?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYOU\u2019LL drop the Ma\u2019am and call me Marjorie.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy grinned. \u201cYou have yourself a deal, Marjorie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI have to tell you, Stacy, I\u2019m not at all sure how successful you\u2019re going to be coaxing Miss Marlowe from her room,\u201d Marjorie said archly.<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe hasn\u2019t stirred out of there since Mrs. Marlowe stripped that heathen animal skin dress she\u2019s been wearing right off her back and gave the foul thing to the scullery maid to burn.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWHAT?\u201d Stacy\u2019s heart plummeted to her feet in a fast free fall.<\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe had all the upstairs maids hold Miss Marlowe down while she herself got a pair of scissors and cut that smelly thing right off her body, piece by piece,\u201d Marjorie recounted the incident with relish, mistaking Stacy\u2019s horror for eagerness to hear more juicy gossip about the oh-so-perfect Marlowe Household. \u201cThat girl fought like a wild cat, biting and scratching. Stacy, there was six of us holding on to that girl! SIX! Hanging on for dearest life tryin\u2019 to keep her pinned down. I don\u2019t know where in the world she ever came by all that strength . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDesperation!\u201d Stacy snapped. \u201cPure, simple, ornery, cussed desperation!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat girl put up a real fuss \u2018n a holler, too.\u201d Marjorie blithely rambled on, as if Stacy had not spoken. \u201cGracie O\u2019Leary, our cook, thought sure it was the cry of the Banshee, comin\u2019 to get her. The poor dear was white as a sheet! Slept that night with a crucifix nailed to her door, Bible under her pillow, and rosary clutched tight in both hands.\u201d At this, Marjorie laughed out loud.<\/p>\n In Stacy\u2019s ears, the sounds of Marjorie\u2019s mirth seemed harsh and grating, very much like the sound of Miss Parsons\u2019 long fingernails scraping across the school blackboard in her bid to call for order when the students were at their unruliest.<\/p>\n At length, Marjorie shook her head, her mirth fading, much to Stacy\u2019s great relief. \u201cNow don\u2019t get me wrong! I\u2019m pleased as punch to see the child back home where she belongs, safe \u2018n sound. Honestly, I AM! But, all the same, it\u2019s been awful! Awful for Miss Marlowe and even worse for MRS. Marlowe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was afraid of this.\u201d As horrendous as the worst of her fears concerning Rachael Marlowe had been, Stacy wished fervently that things had gone that well. Everything that Marjorie had told her with such relish and glee was far worse than anything she could have possibly imagined.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Stacy, I didn\u2019t catch that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u201cI just said . . . maybe time out in that NICE FRESH AIR we have out at the Ponderosa will do Rachael some good like Mrs. Marlowe said,\u201d Stacy said wryly.<\/p>\n \u201cI hope so. I really and truly hope so.\u201d Marjorie sighed and shook her head dolefully. \u201cI feel so SORRY for the Marlowes, especially the Missus. Here they are, so looking forward to having their daughter back home . . . and they end up with a . . . with a heathen savage.\u201d She cast a quick, furtive glance over her shouldered, then lowered her voice. \u201cDon\u2019t ever tell the Mister and Missus I said this, but . . . well, I can\u2019t help but think it would have been far more kind and merciful if the girl had just plain turned up DEAD!\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy, her face a veritable dark, menacing thundercloud, sidestepped slightly, placing her foot and ankle directly in Marjorie\u2019s path. The maid tripped, as intended, shrieking at the top of her lungs as she fell, very much, no doubt, like the banshee Grace O\u2019Leary believed poor Rachael to be. The maid landed on her hands and knees. \u201cHow very clumsy of me,\u201d Stacy murmured with exaggerated contrition, her face a touch too angelic. \u201cHere, let me help you up.\u201d<\/p>\n Marjorie regarded the girl with a suspicious glare, as she shifted back onto her rump.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease?\u201d Smiling, Stacy leaned down and extended her hand. She also firmly placed her foot strategically on the maid\u2019s skirt, near the hemline. Stacy pulled Marjorie to her feet, unable to quite hold back the smile as the unmistakable shriek of ripping material filled the air. Half the skirt had pulled away from the waistband, exposing an extensive view of a bright red silk petticoat. \u201cLovely shade of red, Marjorie.\u201d<\/p>\n Marjorie gasped, her face purple with rage. \u201cMiss Cartwright, you will find Miss Marlowe\u2019s room at the end of the hall on the right,\u201d she informed Stacy with stiff indignation as she gathered up the material of her skirt to cover the exposed slip. With that, she abruptly turned heel and flounced back down the hall in the opposite direction.<\/p>\n \u201cI love you, too, Ma\u2019am,\u201d Stacy blithely called after the retreating maid.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 3<\/p>\n Stacy quickly and easily located the fast closed door to Rachael\u2019s bedroom. She paused, just long enough to wipe the smile off her face, before knocking.<\/p>\n There was no response.<\/p>\n Stacy knocked on the door again. \u201cRachael? It\u2019s Stacy Cartwright. May I come in?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cS-Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs Mama with you?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy winced against the terrible anger and resentment she heard in Rachael\u2019s voice. \u201cNo,\u201d she said, \u201cyour mother\u2019s downstairs chatting with my pa.\u201d<\/p>\n The door immediately opened. A young woman, a couple of years older than Stacy appeared, dressed in a long dark green skirt and a plain white blouse. \u201cCome in.\u201d The words of Rachael\u2019s invitation were clipped, almost terse.<\/p>\n Stacy stepped into the room and turned just as Rachael quietly closed the door behind her.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy . . . . \u201d Rachael frowned. \u201cWhy have YOU come here, Stacy Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI came to invite you out to the Ponderosa for the day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause I want you to come.\u201d<\/p>\n A glance at Stacy\u2019s face and eyes told Rachael that she spoke truly. \u201cYou have lots of forest, lakes and . . . and snow this time of year . . . on the Ponderosa,\u201d she said quietly, her granite-like impassive mask slipped.<\/p>\n \u201cYes. If you\u2019d like, we can ride out and see them.\u201d<\/p>\n The mask shattered, revealing nearly the same depth of despair Stacy saw in the faces of her foster mother, Silver Moon, and her grandfather, Chief Soaring Eagle, just prior to their capture by the U. S. Army. Stacy felt the acrid stinging of tears in her own eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . w-will come with you,\u201d Rachael murmured haltingly. \u201cWait!\u201d Two bounding strides carried her to the side of the canopied bed dominating the center of the room. She noiselessly dropped to her knees and reached under the bed. Rachael rocked back on her knees a few moments later, clutching her precious leather drawstring bag in hand. \u201cI will go with you now.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Ben, it\u2019s been so AWFUL!\u201d Clara, meanwhile, paced the drawing room floor, wringing her hands in complete and utter despair. \u201cI ask Cook to fix Rachael\u2019s favorite foods, but she WON\u2019T eat! The day before she came home, I spent the whole day shopping for nice clothes! The WHOLE DAY, Ben! Rachael won\u2019t even look at them, let alone WEAR them. I offered to take her shopping, let her pick out her own wardrobe, but she REFUSED. Can you BELIEVE that?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, I\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn fact, the only thing she WOULD wear . . . INSISTED on wearing . . . was that horrid, shapeless, unflattering, smelly piece of heathen animal skin!\u201d Clara shuddered with a repulsive grimace. Her despair quickly gave way to righteous indignation. \u201cI TRIED to be patient AND understanding, Ben, I DID! I tried so HARD, but in the end . . . well, I FINALLY had to take matters into my own hands.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s heart sank as he heard the worst of Stacy\u2019s fears concerning Rachael being confirmed. \u201cWh-what did you\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI stripped that foul, wretched thing off her body myself!\u201d Clara declared stoutly, with an emphatic nod of her head. The horrified look on Ben\u2019s face quickly dispelled her ire, and put her on the defensive. \u201cBen, it was for her own good,\u201d she whined. \u201cSurely you see that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cT-to be absolutely honest, Clara . . . I-I\u2019m not so sure I\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLast night, Ben,\u201d she rushed on, completely oblivious to Ben\u2019s attempts to respond, \u201cI suggested that we have a nice little intimate soiree, nothing big and elaborate, mind. We could line up someone to play a short piano program in the music room, serve up a nice sit down supper, and invite some of her close friends. I think that would be a wonderful way to ease her back into proper society, don\u2019t you, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s thoughts immediately zeroed in on Sergeant McGuinness\u2019 account of his sister, Lucinda\u2019s tragically disastrous sweet sixteen party. \u201cClare, have ANY of Rachael\u2019s friends been around to see her?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOohh, one! A young lady named Katy Snodgres, though as far as I\u2019M concerned . . . with friends like Katy, who needs enemies!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about the friends you plan on inviting to this shindig you\u2019re putting together?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSHINDIG?!\u201d Clara laughed, high pitched with a harsh, grating edge. \u201cOh, Ben, you\u2019re just too priceless sometimes! I\u2019m planning a SOIREE. There\u2019s a world of difference\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlright!\u201d Ben said with a touch of exasperation. \u201cThe friends you intend to invite to your soiree . . . have any of THEM been around to see Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell . . . noooo . . . but they DO ask about her, whenever I\u2019m in town,\u201d Clara whined defensively. \u201cIn any case, Rachael was so indifferent, she . . . well, she just shrugged the idea right off.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe throwing a party and inviting a lot of people is rushing things a tad, Clara,\u201d Ben pointed out in a quiet, gentle tone.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Ben, for heaven\u2019s sake!\u201d Clara angrily stamped her foot. \u201cI SAID a SOIREE, NOT a party! A small intimate SOIREE! And I didn\u2019t say a lot of people, either. I said just a FEW CLOSE friends. Rachael NEEDS to be with people, Ben, she desperately needs to be back among her own kind of people, and the sooner the better. Surely you can see that?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . she desperately needs to be back among her own kind of people.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201c . . . get her back among white people again. Her own kind was the way Pa put it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n The framed photograph of Lucinda McGuinness rose again within his angry, troubled thoughts, as he remembered seeing it gently cradled in her brother\u2019s outstretched hands. This time, she wore Rachael Marlowe\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cBen!?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben vigorously shook his head to clear it of the disturbing vision swimming before his inward sight. \u201cClara, I-I\u2019 sorry. I was only trying to say is that . . . well, maybe Rachael needs time to readjust. Time, AND a lot of patience!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s amazing, Ben, it really and truly IS amazing!\u201d Clara\u2019s voice was ice cold. \u201cEver since Rachael\u2019s come home, nearly everyone, it seems, is just chock FULL of advice as to what\u2019s best for MY daughter, and I resent it. Do you hear? I RESENT it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Ben! I won\u2019t have it! I won\u2019t!\u201d Clara declared petulantly. \u201cI am Rachael\u2019s mother. Surely I know what\u2019s best for her!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, I\u2019m not questioning your adequacy as Rachael\u2019s mother,\u201d Ben tried to explain. \u201cAll I\u2019m saying is that Rachael\u2019s grown used to a completely different way of living. She needs TIME to readjust. It\u2019s NOT going to happen overnight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want MY Rachael back, Ben.\u201d Clara\u2019s voice caught on the utterance of her daughter\u2019s name. \u201cI want MY little girl back the way she WAS. I want all the misery I\u2019ve suffered for the last five years to STOP! I want this whole thing to be OVER, and I want it to be over RIGHT NOW!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, Rachael may not be able to go back to being the girl she was, even if she WANTS to,\u201d Ben said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cEven if she wants to?!?\u201d Clara looked over at Ben as if he had just taken complete leave of his senses and sprouted a pair of purple antlers in the bargain. \u201cOf COURSE, she wants to for heavens\u2019 sake! Why in the world would she NOT want to?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow old was she when she left?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFourteen,\u201d Clara said morosely.<\/p>\n \u201cThat makes her eighteen, going on nineteen years old now. There\u2019s a world of difference in those four and a half years, Clara! Rachael\u2019s NOT a little girl anymore. Like it or not, she\u2019s a full grown WOMAN.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBen, stop it! Just STOP it, you hear?\u201d Clara said peevishly, clapping her hands firmly over her ears. \u201cYou\u2019re distressing me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Clara,\u201d Ben immediately apologized.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d It was Stacy. She stood just inside the open door to the drawing room, with Rachael standing beside her, clutching her leather bag close to her chest.<\/p>\n Clara exhaled a short, curt exasperated sigh upon seeing the animal skin bag clutched in her daughter\u2019s hands. \u201cRachael, I don\u2019t think you need to take that thing with you to the Cartwrights,\u201d she said, venting her growing ire and frustration. She put out her hand to take it.<\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d Rachael shouted, clutching the bag tightly to her chest once again.<\/p>\n \u201cRACHAEL . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHONESTLY!\u201d Angry and frustrated, Clara stamped her foot hard enough to rattle every piece of bric-a-brac in the drawing room.<\/p>\n \u201cClara, please, it\u2019s alright,\u201d Ben quickly intervened, as Stacy quietly interposed herself between Rachael and her mother.<\/p>\n Clara sighed and shook her head. \u201cI don\u2019t understand this. I don\u2019t understand this at all. She must have a dozen lovely, perfectly suitable hand bags upstairs in her room, yet she insists on carrying THAT hideous thing around.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, may I see?\u201d Stacy asked. \u201cYou can just turn it around, if you want.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael nodded warily, but nevertheless, turned the bag around so that Stacy could see the front. The dark brown intricate lines and geometric patterns came together to form the graceful body of a doe. The artist had used the color of the hide in his or her work, and white to accentuate and high light. Pieces of shell, and beads, carved from deer bone, were festooned to the fringe trim.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s beautiful!\u201d Stacy said softly. \u201cPa, come see!\u201d<\/p>\n Ben walked over and took up position beside his daughter. He smiled, as he studied the deer\u2019s face and sinuous body painted on the front of the bag. \u201cStacy\u2019s right,\u201d he said, addressing his comments to Rachael directly. \u201cThat IS very beautiful. Did YOU paint it?\u201d<\/p>\n A bare hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Rachael\u2019s mouth, as she solemnly shook her head. \u201cMy Chinook mother, Lammieh Towakh Moon [ii], made this medicine bag as a gift to me. The name she gave me is T\u2019kope Mauitsh, which means White Deer.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, I am your mother, NOT that ignorant savage who held you PRISONER for almost five years,\u201d Clara said through clenched teeth, making no effort to conceal her rancor and disdain, \u201cand I thought I made it clear that I do NOT want to hear that . . . that heathen name they called you spoken in this house EVER, EVER, again.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben duly noted the growing, smoldering anger in Stacy\u2019s eyes. \u201cI, uh . . . think we\u2019d best be going,\u201d he said quickly, taking his own daughter and Rachael firmly by the hand. \u201cWe\u2019ll leave you to relax and get some rest, Clara. I hope you\u2019ll be feeling better soon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Ben,\u201d she said in a stone cold voice. \u201cTom and I will see you later this evening, when you bring Rachael back.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, dinner time soon!\u201d Hop Sing announced as the buckboard pulled up in the yard. \u201cMister Cartwright and Miss Stacy wash.\u201d His dark eyes came to rest on Rachael sandwiched between Ben and Stacy.<\/p>\n \u201cYou, too, Missy. You wash for dinner.\u201d He punctuated his words with an emphatic nod of his head, then turned heel and ambled back into the house.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll take care of the horses, Mister Cartwright.\u201d Candy appeared at Ben\u2019s elbow as if by magic.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Candy.\u201d Ben quickly climbed down, then turned to offer Rachael a hand getting down.<\/p>\n Rachael tucked her medicine bag under one arm, then reached to take Ben\u2019s extended hand with the other. She jumped down, landing lightly on both feet. In the same instant her feet touched the ground, a wave of dizziness hit. She wavered.<\/p>\n Ben acted instinctively, planting his feet firmly on the ground, at roughly shoulder width apart, bracing himself. \u201cIt\u2019s all right, Rachael,\u201d Ben said quietly, as she collapsed heavily against him.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d Stacy immediately leapt down from the buggy, lightening swift as a cougar. Two brisk, giant steps brought her to the other side of Rachael. Noting Rachael\u2019s pale face and rapid, shallow breathing, she looked over at her father, her eyes round with apprehension.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, you run on inside . . . have Hop Sing bring smelling salts,\u201d Ben ordered, as he hefted Rachael into his arms.<\/p>\n Stacy nodded, then bolted toward the house.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Ben spotted Hop Sing standing next to the settee, with the vial of ammoniated smelling salts in hand, as he entered the house, carrying Rachael\u2019s limp, inert form. Stacy stood a little behind Hop Sing, watching anxiously.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat wrong with Missy?\u201d Hop Sing queried, as Ben carefully placed Rachael on the settee.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Ben shook his head. \u201cShe jumped down from the buggy, then . . . collapsed.\u201d<\/p>\n Hop Sing removed the cap from the vial in hand, moving in as Ben stepped back. He seated himself on the massive coffee table next to the settee and waved the open vial several times under Rachael\u2019s nose. A soft, barely audible groan rose from Rachael\u2019s throat as she stirred, and slowly opened her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael? Are you all right?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael\u2019s head turned toward the sound of Stacy\u2019s anxious voice. As her vision cleared, the lines and planes Stacy\u2019s face, gazing down at her from over the back of the settee, sharpened from nebulous clouds of golden peach, framed by an ebony halo, to crystal clarity. The girl\u2019s face, a shade or two paler than usual, and bright blue eyes, round with worry and anxious concern touched Rachael deeply. \u201cI\u2019ll . . . I\u2019ll be all right, Stacy,\u201d she said, with a wan smile. \u201cI woke up this morning, not feeling well, but . . . the worst is actually over, believe it or not.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy stared down at Rachael dubiously.<\/p>\n \u201cHonest. I\u2019ll be all right.\u201d Rachael moved to sit up.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, maybe you should lie still for a few minutes?\u201d Ben suggested. \u201cSitting up too quickly can cause you to pass out again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t happen to have any peppermint or catnip tea around . . . would you, Mister Cartwright?\u201d Rachael asked. \u201cMy stomach\u2019s feeling a little upset . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMissy know about herbs?!\u201d Hop Sing queried, looking down at her in surprise.<\/p>\n Rachael slowly turned her head toward Hop Sing, then nodded. \u201cI learned when I lived with the Chinook,\u201d she said wistfully. \u201cMy . . . my adoptive mother, Lammieh Towakh Moon was a healer. SHE taught me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMissy lie still. Hop Sing make tea.\u201d Without further preamble, Hop Sing turned heel and ambled back toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon,\u201d Stacy repeated the name of Rachael\u2019s Chinook mother slowly. \u201cSounds pretty. What does it mean?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWise Woman of the Bright Moon,\u201d Rachael replied, then gasped. \u201cOh dear!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it, Rachael?\u201d Stacy asked.<\/p>\n An anxious frown knotted Rachael\u2019s smooth brow. \u201cMy medicine bag!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou probably dropped it when you collapsed,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cYou stay still. I\u2019ll go find it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy moved to the coffee table, taking the seat vacated by Hop Sing a few moments before. \u201cRachael, are you SURE you\u2019re going to be all right?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, I\u2019ve been . . . well, a bit under the weather since before I left the Chinook. It\u2019s worse when I wake up in the morning, but it passes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you\u2019d like to see Doctor Martin . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be all right, Stacy, honest!\u201d Rachael\u2019s voice broke on the last words, as an overwhelming desire and need to be with her Chinook mother suddenly seized her.<\/p>\n Stacy took Rachael\u2019s hand in both of hers. \u201cYou miss Lammieh Towakh Moon very much right now, don\u2019t you.\u201d It was a statement of fact, not a question.<\/p>\n \u201cY-yes. Stacy, how did you know?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy mother, the one who gave me life, said I was fey,\u201d Stacy said quietly. \u201cThat\u2019s Irish, I think for what Silver Moon used to say was touched by Great Spirit.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWas Silver Moon your Paiute mother?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cI miss Lammieh Towakh Moon terribly,\u201d Rachael said quietly, her eyes welling up with new tears. \u201cDo you miss Silver Moon?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I think about her a lot,\u201d Stacy said evasively.<\/p>\n \u201cWere you taken by the Paiutes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I wasn\u2019t taken,\u201d Stacy replied. \u201cFor the first five, maybe six years of my life, I lived with my grandfather and grandmother, my MOTHER\u2019S father and mother. One night my uncle came, and shot them all. My grandparents and two of my aunts! After he killed them, he burned down the house to cover up what he had done. He would have killed me, too, if Aunt Mattie hadn\u2019t put me out the window and told me to run.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael looked over at Stacy, her eyes round with horror. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe wanted money that belonged to my grandmother. She had drawn up a will, leaving all her money to my aunts, Elsie and Mattie . . . and to me,\u201d Stacy replied, her voice shaking. \u201cI was a child, of course. My aunts never married. They had always stayed with their ma and pa . . . and looked after them.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael, much to Stacy\u2019s surprise, placed her other, free hand over top Stacy\u2019s, offering reassurance and a measure of support. She smiled her thanks.<\/p>\n \u201cAfter . . . after Aunt Mattie put me out the window, the only thing I remember is running as fast and as hard as I could. Silver Moon found me asleep near their cooking fires the next morning. For a long time, I couldn\u2019t remember what had happened, who I was, where I\u2019d come from, or the people I lived with. The memories were too frightening!\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy could feel her heart pounding wildly against her chest as she recounted the events of that terrifying night a decade ago. \u201cI had a pendant on a chain with me, a gold, heart shaped pendant, with the name Stacy Louise engraved on it. One of the people was able to read English. Silver Moon, who had no children of her own, took me to live with her and her husband, Jon Running Deer. She gave me the name Stacy Dancing Colt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid Silver Moon adopt you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, we didn\u2019t have any ritual of adoption,\u201d Stacy said quietly. \u201cA couple of nights after I blundered into Chief Soaring Eagle\u2019s camp, Silver Moon was told by Great Spirit in a dream that I was placed into her care as a trust, until the time came for me to go live with my father.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThose were Silver Moon\u2019s exact words. She was also given a sign by which she would know my father. It was a tall PONDEROSA pine tree.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHonestly?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded.<\/p>\n Rachael smiled. \u201cThat\u2019s amazing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSilver Moon promised me that she would be my mother and the others my family until I left them to go live with my father, and they were. No one\u2019s ever loved me more . . . except Pa, Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing . . . and Adam, and HIS family.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon\u2019s daughter, Olhaiyu Klutsma, died of pneumonia two winters before I came,\u201d Rachael said. \u201cI given to Lammieh Towakh Moon as her daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon adopted you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Rachael said as she moved once again to sit up. With Stacy\u2019s able assistance, she slowly and cautiously eased herself from a prone to a sitting position on the settee.<\/p>\n Hop Sing quietly entered the room with cup and saucer in hand. The cup was filled nearly to the brim with clear, steaming hot peppermint tea. \u201cHot tea for Missy,\u201d he said placing the cup and saucer in Rachael\u2019s hands. \u201cMissy drink while hot. If Missy want more, plenty in kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you very much, Hop Sing,\u201d Rachael said with a smile.<\/p>\n \u201cMissy welcome,\u201d Hop Sing returned her smile. \u201cMaybe Missy come in kitchen, talk about herbs later.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d like that, Hop Sing. I\u2019d like that very much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMissy drink up tea,\u201d Hop Sing admonished her. \u201cMissy drink while hot.\u201d With that he, turned heel and left the room.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, you should considered yourself highly honored.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy and Rachael turned, and found Ben standing behind the settee, holding Rachael\u2019s medicine bag carefully, yet firmly in both hands. \u201cThank you so much, Mister Cartwright, for getting my medicine bag,\u201d Rachael said gratefully.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re welcome,\u201d Ben responded with a smile.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWere YOU taken in an Indian raid?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael leaned against the back of the settee, shaking her head. \u201cNo, and I wasn\u2019t held prisoner, either, I don\u2019t CARE what Mama says!<\/p>\n \u201cThe stage I was on was robbed. The thieves took everything, and burned the coach. Then . . . then they lined the passengers and driver up and shot everyone, one by one. A silver dollar . . . it was a pendant given to me by Mama, with my birth year on it . . . well, it deflected the bullet by a real stroke of luck, or freak of nature, however you want to look at it. I . . . I was the only one who survived. I played dead until long after I heard the hooves of their horses riding away.<\/p>\n \u201cThen, I got up and just started walking,\u201d Rachael continued. \u201cI had no idea in the world where I was, or how to get to where I was supposed to be going. I was afraid to stay where I was . . . among the dead. I was also afraid the men who robbed us and killed all the others might come back. So I started walking.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael felt Stacy\u2019s hand squeezing her own, a gentle reminder of her strong, reassuring presence. Over in the big, red leather easy chair, Ben Cartwright sat, waiting patiently for her to resume. Between the two of them, it was almost like being with Lammieh Towakh Moon once again.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know how long I wandered, lost . . . later sick, scared out of my mind the entire time. I couldn\u2019t find much to eat.\u201d A wry, ironic smile spread across Rachael\u2019s lips. \u201cMy, umm . . . upbringing as the daughter of wealthy socialites didn\u2019t exactly lend itself to surviving in the wild. Lammieh Towakh Moon told me later I was found by a hunting party, near death from starvation and illness, babbling, clearly out of my ever lovin\u2019 mind. I know I was taken at once to Lammieh Towakh Moon. She was the clan healer, and . . . she nursed me back to health.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow was it for you among the Chinook?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was angry at first . . . and resentful,\u201d Rachael began haltingly. \u201cI was afraid, I missed Mama and Papa, and all my friends here dreadfully. I knew they\u2019d all be as worried about ME as I was about THEM. I had no idea in the world how to find my way back. That first year, I took a lot of my fear and anger out on Lammieh Towakh Moon. I regret that, Stacy . . . Mister Cartwright. I . . . I regret it with all my heart.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe woman who made and painted your medicine bag put a lot of her love into that,\u201d Stacy said quietly. \u201cI can see it in the way it was made and put together. I felt it, too, when you let me touch it. Anyone who loved you that much surely understood how you must\u2019ve felt.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael nodded. \u201cShe WAS very kind to me. It took me the whole first year to be able to respond to her love and kindness. She taught me many things, Stacy. Lammieh Towakh Moon is . . . w-was . . . a powerful healer. She took me into the forest many times and taught me about plants, the ones that heal . . . what they heal, how to harvest them, dry them, make them into teas and ointments for healing . . . even how to make them into paint for . . . for decorating.<\/p>\n \u201cWhenever I went with Lammieh Towakh Moon to gather plants, I felt peace inside myself, for the first time in my life.\u201d As Rachael continued, her eyes misted over and a peaceful, beatific smile spread across her face. The stuccoed walls and massive stone fireplace in the Cartwright home faded into the tall, pine forest and sparkling water where the Columbia River joined the Pacific Ocean. \u201cIt took me a long time to learn the language, but somehow, Lammieh Towakh Moon and I didn\u2019t have to talk a lot of the time. The silences between us were filled with a lot of love, happiness, and peace.\u201d<\/p>\n Pine trees, river, and ocean slowly and inevitably faded again into stuccoed walls and massive gray stone fireplace. \u201cThe others accepted me at first because I was daughter of Lammieh Towakh Moon. As I learned her healing ways, and began to help her in her healing work, they accepted me as T\u2019kope Mauitsh.\u201d Rachael lapsed into thoughtful silence for a moment. \u201cI learned to accept others for WHO they were . . . AS they were, I think . . . f-for the . . . for the first time in my entire life.\u201d<\/p>\n A bewildered frown knotted Rachael\u2019s brow, then faded, smoothing her brow as the light of revelation dawned. \u201cNo wonder we don\u2019t have much to talk about . . . Mama and me . . . I . . . WE always, only talked about people before, how they fell short of our standards . . . . \u201d A large tear slipped up over her eyelid and ran down the length of her cheek, as she looked up, meeting Stacy\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cIt was the same with my friends . . . two of us together, running down a third, or maybe three of us, putting down a fourth. I . . . I honestly never thought of this before . . . but, how m-many times was I that third, or fourth . . . not present? It makes me wonder . . . who among them WERE really, honestly and truly . . . my friends?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOur family has been learning the answer to that question ourselves for the past six months, Rachael,\u201d Ben said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s when I found out Stacy is my daughter . . . by blood,\u201d Ben said quietly.<\/p>\n Rachael frowned. \u201cI remember Mama saying that you, Hoss, Joe, and Stacy met each other at Fort Charlotte when you went out there to sell them some horses,\u201d she said slowly, \u201cand that you had planned to adopt her . . . but, you\u2019re also . . . her natural father, Mister Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I am.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I had no idea you had married again, after . . . after Joe\u2019s mother died.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t. Paris McKenna, Stacy\u2019s mother, was the daughter of an acquaintance,\u201d Ben explained. \u201cShe came for a visit . . . supposedly for two, maybe three weeks. Paris and I fell in love with each other, and Paris . . . she ended up staying here for six MONTHS.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat happened, Mister Cartwright?\u201d Rachael asked quietly.<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s eyes met Rachael\u2019s, and in them he saw a compassionate kindred spirit. \u201cParis left soon after she learned she was pregnant with Stacy. One morning, shortly after New Year\u2019s, Paris was gone, without telling me she was leaving, without saying good-bye. She never told me she was pregnant.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s why I lived with my grandparents the first six years of my life, and not HERE,\u201d Stacy added.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mister Cartwright . . . Stacy . . . I\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Rachael murmured sympathetically, looking from one to the other. She saw the sadness in Ben\u2019s eyes clearly when he spoke of Paris McKenna, and sensed the presence of wounds deeply inflicted, yet in the process of healing in both father and daughter. \u201cHow did you come to find out that Stacy is your daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe uncle who killed my grandparents and aunts found out I was here, and he came after ME,\u201d Stacy said.<\/p>\n \u201cTo . . . to kill you?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded. \u201cI saw him kill the others. My testimony in a court of law would have sent him to the gallows. He also wanted my grandmother\u2019s money. With her and my two aunts dead, I became the sole heir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I hope he HUNG for that!\u201d Rachael declared, her warm brown eyes flashing with anger.<\/p>\n \u201cHe didn\u2019t live long enough to stand trial,\u201d Stacy replied. \u201cAnyway, HE\u2019S the one who told me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe decided to tell the truth . . . about Stacy . . . and about Paris and me because,\u201d Ben looked over at his daughter, and smiled, \u201cbecause Stacy IS a member of our family, by adoption AND by blood, as it turns out. To try and pretend otherwise . . . . \u201d He shrugged. \u201cTruth always has a way of eventually making itself known. We decided it would be better to tell the truth ourselves, right from the start. Those who were our REAL friends, have REMAINED our friends. Those who haven\u2019t . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t give a bloody tinker\u2019s damn, as my mother used to say sometimes,\u201d Stacy said with heartfelt conviction, \u201cand, Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want you to know that you can count on US as friends,\u201d she said earnestly. \u201cMe, Pa, my brothers, and Hop Sing, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy speaks truthfully in that, Rachael,\u201d Ben added in complete, wholehearted agreement.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 4<\/p>\n The front door opened. Joe entered, then Hoss, with Candy bringing up the rear.<\/p>\n \u201cUummm UM! Somethin\u2019 sure as shootin\u2019 smells good!\u201d Hoss declared with a broad grin, as he divested himself of coat, hat, scarf, and gun belt. \u201cI sure hope it\u2019ll be ready soon, \u2018cause I\u2019m hungry enough right now to eat a whole corral full o\u2019 horses.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re hungry enough to . . . I don\u2019t believe it!\u201d Joe\u2019s jaw dropped almost down to his chest, and his eyes, though round with sheer, unimaginable comic horror, danced with an impish inner light. \u201cPa, you\u2019d better send for Doc Martin right away. Big Brother here\u2019s LOST his appetite.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDadburn it, Li\u2019l Joe\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBoys, settle down,\u201d Ben admonished, as an amused grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. \u201cWe have company.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo we do!\u201d Joe declared with a broad grin, as he walked over toward the settee, still occupied by Stacy and Rachael. \u201cGood afternoon, Miss. Are you a new friend of Stacy\u2019s?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael rose and smiled. \u201cWell . . . yes, I guess you might say I\u2019m a new friend of STACY\u2019S, but I\u2019m an old friend of the family, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe studied her silently. A puzzled frown knotted his brow.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sure you remember Rachael Marlowe, Son,\u201d Ben prompted.<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s jaw dropped again, this time for real. \u201cI . . . I . . . y-you\u2019re . . . you\u2019re Rachael M-Marlowe?!\u201d<\/p>\n The last time he had seen her was two weeks before she had left for Oregon nearly five years ago. Though she stood nearly as tall as she did now, a thick layer of baby fat still sheathed her entire body, prompting her mother to place Rachael on a very strict, very limited diet, and her hair was a mass of unruly dark, wispy curls that blatantly defied even the tightest barrette. She was also very annoyingly cock sure of herself.<\/p>\n The young woman presently standing before him was tall, slender, with no evidence of discernible baby fat at all. Her hair was quite long now, long enough to have sufficiently squashed the natural wave. The way she had it pulled hack away from her face, and braided, suited her. Though she projected a calm, even poised outward demeanor, Joe sensed a lot of uncertainty boiling just below the surface. He attributed it to her having just left one way of life to return to another, wholly different, even alien after the passage of five years.<\/p>\n \u201cGee, Rachael, I . . . I\u2019m sorry, I guess, well . . . I guess it\u2019s been a long time . . . . \u201d The words poured out of Joe\u2019s mouth like the rush of a spring flash flood.<\/p>\n \u201cGrandpa, you\u2019re babbling!\u201d Stacy teased.<\/p>\n \u201cPa, WHEN are you going to teach this wayward child of yours to show a little respect for her ELDERS?\u201d Joe demanded, glaring over at his sister.<\/p>\n Stacy responded by sticking out her tongue.<\/p>\n Rachael, noting the stern look in Ben\u2019s eyes, tried very hard not to laugh.<\/p>\n Meanwhile, Hoss and Candy had already crossed the room from the front door, to the settee, where the rest of the family, and guest, were gathered.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, welcome home,\u201d Hoss said, smiling, \u201can\u2019 welcome to the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood seeing you, Rachael,\u201d Candy said. \u201cWelcome back.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Hoss . . . Candy,\u201d Rachael said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat Hoss and Candy said goes for me, too, Rachael,\u201d Joe said. \u201cSorry, I didn\u2019t recognize you there for a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s ok, Joe, I know it\u2019s been awhile . . . . \u201d Her smile faded. \u201cIn fact, it seems like two whole lifetimes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, dinner ready!\u201d Hop Sing announced. \u201cEverybody in dining room, chop, chop! Eat while hot!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s about dadburn time!\u201d Hoss said eagerly, licking his chops. \u201cI\u2019m about to keel over from hunger.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t think so, Big Brother,\u201d Joe teased, as they made their way through the great room to the dining room. \u201cYou could live off the fat of the land there for a whole year at least.\u201d He reached over and patted Hoss\u2019 ample girth in the same way he might pat the head of an affectionate dog. \u201cHey, Kid, you got no room to laugh!\u201d Joe immediately rounded on his sister. \u201cI can\u2019t help but notice you\u2019ve gotten a little broad in the beam this past winter yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo have you, Grandpa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo way!\u201d Joe\u2019s gesture brought the eyes of his father, brother and sister, Hop Sing, Candy, and Rachael to his abdomen. \u201cI want you ALL to take a gander at that! A classic example of a washboard stomach if ever there was one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOk, Grandpa, let\u2019s see ya EXHALE!\u201d Stacy challenged.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m breathing . . . HEY! Back up, Little Sister, I don\u2019t like that look in your eyes!\u201d<\/p>\n Before he could move to stop her or protect himself, Stacy was walking close behind him, mercilessly tickling his waist on both sides.<\/p>\n \u201cH-hey! C-cut it . . . cut it out!\u201d Joe giggled.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, Li\u2019l Brother, where\u2019d that washboard stomach go?\u201d Hoss queried with a broad grin.<\/p>\n \u201cFrom the looks of things, I\u2019D say it just disappeared into those luu-uuu-v handles,\u201d Candy teased.<\/p>\n \u201cI do NOT have love handles!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhaddya call THESE, Grandpa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHEY! PA, SHE\u2019S PINCHING ME!\u201d Joe bellowed.<\/p>\n Rachael found herself laughing so hard, the tears began to pour from her eyes. She couldn\u2019t remember the last time she had laughed so uproariously, and with so much mirth.<\/p>\n \u201cBoys . . . you, too, Stacy! Settle down!\u201d Ben quietly admonished his high-spirited offspring.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, are they ALWAYS like this?\u201d Rachael asked, as she wiped her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cPretty much,\u201d Ben said with a smile.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Dinner that afternoon was a rich, hearty beef stew that had been slow simmered over a low fire through out the night, and into the morning. There was a generous amount of beef, so tender it literally melted in the mouth. Hop Sing had added potatoes, yams, dried peas, onions, and an assortment of vegetables he had canned during late summer and early autumn months. Biscuits, fresh and hot right from the oven, with fresh made butter and home made strawberry jam rounded out the meal. There was also coffee, milk for Hoss and Stacy, and peppermint tea for Rachael. For desert, there was chocolate cake, left over from supper the night before.<\/p>\n For Rachael, the healthy appetite that seemed to have deserted her upon leaving the Chinook at rifle point, returned suddenly, and with a vengeance. She quickly devoured the first bowl of beef stew, and asked for seconds, much to Hop Sing\u2019s delight, along with three biscuits and two pieces of cake. Hop Sing grinned. \u201cThank you, Missy. Hop Sing thank you very much. Who \u2018La-my-eh To-wa Moon\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon is . . . w-was . . . my Chinook mother, Hop Sing.\u201d Rachael\u2019s voice caught as she spoke the name of her Chinook mother.<\/p>\n Stacy quietly reached over and gave Rachael\u2019s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.<\/p>\n \u201cYour Chinook ma must\u2019ve been one real fine cook, if her venison stew was as good as Hop Sing\u2019s beef stew,\u201d Hoss said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss oughtta know, Rachael,\u201d Joe said. \u201cHE\u2019S the family expert on good food.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael managed a small, sad smile. \u201cYou\u2019re right, Hoss. Lammieh Towakh Moon was an excellent cook. She knew the seasoning properties of different herbs and plants, as well as their medicinal ones.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid she teach you about their seasonin\u2019 properties?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n \u201cShe started to,\u201d Rachael replied, averting her eyes to her plate. Stacy, seated next to her at the table, noted that her eyes blinked excessively.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy . . . Rachael . . . you\u2019ve got time to get in a nice long ride, but you need to get a move on,\u201d Ben said. \u201cThe days may be lengthening, but it still gets dark early.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou two mind if I tag along?\u201d Joe asked, drawing a skeptical glare from Ben. \u201cAll my chores are done, Pa,\u201d he added defensively.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s ok with me, Grandpa, IF Rachael wants you along . . . and if it\u2019s ok with Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure,\u201d Rachael agreed, \u201cthe more the merrier.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAs long as your chores are done,\u201d Ben agreed.<\/p>\n Rachael rose. \u201cOh no!\u201d she groaned, looking down at her long skirt in complete and utter dismay.<\/p>\n \u201cWe have side saddles out in the tack room, Rachael,\u201d Joe said, as he and Stacy also rose. \u201cLittle Sister here never uses them, so we keep \u2018em for guests, mostly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI got used to riding astride when I lived among the Chinook,\u201d Rachael sighed dolefully. \u201cI honestly don\u2019t know if I could manage to ride side saddle anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou and I look to be about the same size,\u201d Stacy said thoughtfully. \u201cCome on upstairs with me. I think I can outfit you properly.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Within just under an hour, the trio, mounted on their horses, stood at the bottom of the hill leading to the overlook where Adam Cartwright once took Delphine Marquett, the wife of an old friend. Adam brought Delphine here to this overlook and the spectacular view as a brief respite from the terror and grief brought about by a loving husband who had inexplicably become violently insane. [iii]<\/p>\n \u201cYou g\u2019won up first, Rachael,\u201d Joe said smiling. \u201cStacy and I\u2019ll be along in a few minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCartwright family tradition,\u201d Stacy added by way of explanation.<\/p>\n Rachael urged her horse, a gentle mare named Guinevere, up the high hill looming before her. She thoroughly enjoyed their ride out to this place. After having spent weeks closed in, confined to small rooms, the cold fresh air, scented with the heady aromas of earth and pine, even horse, was gloriously intoxicating.<\/p>\n Stacy and Joe, with their horses, Blaze Face and Cochise respectively, waited a few moments before following at a slower pace.<\/p>\n Rachael and Guinevere reached the top of the rise within a scant few minutes, where she was treated to a vista of forest, lake, and snow, stretching across a vast valley toward the distant horizon, marked by a line of jagged, snow covered mountain peaks.<\/p>\n \u201cWell?\u201d The sound of Joe Cartwright\u2019s voice coming from so close startled Rachael. She was so entranced by the awesome vista stretched out before her, she never heard Joe and Stacy coming.<\/p>\n \u201cIt takes my breath away!\u201d Rachael exclaimed, her eyes and face shining with wonder and delight. \u201cIt just literally . . . takes my breath away.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhenever we bring someone here for the first time, we let the person come up here first,\u201d Joe explained in a soft, reverent tone. \u201cThis is the kind of view you need to see for the first time alone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I understand,\u201d Rachael said softly, her eyes greedily drinking in the patchwork of pristine white snow and dark evergreen forests spread out before her.<\/p>\n The three lapsed into a companionable silence made sacred as each contemplated the majestic vista spread out before them, extending from the base of the hill on which they and their horses stood, all the way to the mountains in the far distance, and saw in that vastness the divine touch of the Creator of All.<\/p>\n Memories of another time, another place . . . another life, rose like incense in the censor of Rachael Marlowe\u2019s thoughts. The profound sweetness of those memories were almost beyond bearing. She averted her gaze to her gloved hands wrapped lightly around the reins of Guinevere\u2019s bridle, as tears stung her eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d<\/p>\n It was Stacy, speaking softly, reaching out to gently touch her arm. Rachael felt Joe\u2019s presence, too, standing close by on the other side. His hand covered hers, and squeezed it gently, offering comfort and reassurance.<\/p>\n \u201cI was married last year,\u201d Rachael said quietly, astonished at how calm and even her voice sounded in her own ears, \u201cin a wedding ritual to Aiak Enanamuks. His name translates into English as Swift Otter. On . . . I guess it would be the equivalent of a wedding night, he brought me to a place very much like this, except, instead of mountains, there was ocean.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael closed her eyes and saw Aiak Enanamuks\u2019 face once again, smiling, his eyes glowing with the fire and warmth of his love for her. She felt his arms, strong yet so very gentle circling around her, and drawing her close to the warm hardness of his chest. His lips against hers, his hands moving through her long hair to gently touch her face, and caress her cheek . . . .<\/p>\n Then, suddenly, Aiak Enanamuks was gone. Rachael heard someone scream in agony. At first the sound seemed to come from a place, as far distant as the mountains, whose blue and white jagged peaks marked the horizon line. A scant heartbeat later, she realized, much to her astonishment that it was she, herself, who had screamed. Her chest heaved, and she felt herself suffocating, unable to draw breath. When she opened her eyes, she found her entire world blurred to a mass of molten whites, greens, and blues under a veil of hot tears. Her yearning for Aiak Enanamuks burned within her chest at the place of her heart.<\/p>\n Rachael cried out again, as a heavy shroud of hopeless despair closed in around her. It\u2019s darkness, the absolute night of the abyss, overwhelmed and shut out all life and light.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s right, Rachael!\u201d Stacy\u2019s arm circled her waist and held her close. \u201cJust let it all out. Joe and I . . . w-were right here.\u201d Rachael felt the wetness of Stacy\u2019s tears falling on her cheeks, mingling with her own.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy and I are here, Rachael . . . . \u201d Joe promised, his own voice breaking. \u201cWe\u2019re gonna STAY right here.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201c . . . . Lammieh Towakh Moon also painted this,\u201d Rachael said as she placed a stone, white quartz worn to smoothness by the waters of the river, on the coffee table. On the top of its smooth surface were painted two animals: a seal and a young white deer. Both were framed by a yellow halo. \u201cShe gave me this following the ritual of my adoption. My Chinook name, T\u2019kope Mauitsh is White Deer in English. Olhaiyu Klutsma, the name of Lammieh Towakh Moon\u2019s daughter, the one who died before I came translates as Seal Woman.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe yellow circle behind the seal and the deer . . . . is it the moon?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Mister Cartwright, it IS,\u201d Rachael replied with a smile.<\/p>\n Ben pointed at the stone. \u201cMay I?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCertainly.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben carefully picked up the stone from its place on the coffee table and studied it closely. \u201cBeautiful . . . . \u201d he murmured softly. \u201cThe workmanship is . . . well to say it\u2019s excellent is understating the matter. Lammieh Towakh Moon was truly a very gifted artist as well as healer.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, she was, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWas this gift Lammieh Towakh Moon\u2019s way of saying that you and Olhaiyu Klutsma are now sisters?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYes! How did you know?\u201d Rachael exclaimed, surprised and delighted.<\/p>\n \u201cSome things . . . be they words or images . . . need no translation,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cDid Lammieh Towakh Moon have any other children besides Olhaiyu Klutsma . . . and YOU?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe had three sons, one of whom died the same winter Olhaiyu Klutsma did,\u201d Rachael replied. \u201cSkookum Tumtum Leloo, the oldest of Lammieh Towakh Moon\u2019s three sons . . . he was in the village the day . . . the day the cavalry came. He died trying to save our mother and me. The other was away . . . with the other men hunting.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat does Skookum Tumtum Leloo mean in English?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n \u201cBrave Wolf,\u201d Rachael replied. \u201cThe day I . . . I became his sister, he gave me this.\u201d She removed an abalone shell from her bag. It was a small shell that fit in the palm of her hand. The outside of the shell was rough, hued in varying shades of gray and brown. By contrast, the inside was an iridescent display of rainbow colors.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s beautiful,\u201d Stacy murmured, awestruck.<\/p>\n \u201cSkookum Tumtum Leloo was one of the few who knew a smattering of English,\u201d Rachael said. \u201cHe was one of the few I spoke with during that first year with the Chinook.\u201d A sad, wistful smile spread slowly across her lips as she remembered her Chinook brother. \u201cI had a shell collection once. Every year, when Mama and Papa took me to the beach, I added to it . . . and whenever Papa traveled to ANY place near water, he always brought me back shells, sometimes even coral for my collection. I told Skookum Tumtum Leloo about it . . . that\u2019s why he gave me this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere did he find it?\u201d Stacy asked. Ben noted that her eyes were unusually bright, and that they blinked excessively.<\/p>\n \u201cHe found it when he was a boy. Before he became a man, he and some of the other youths, boys mostly but a few girls, too, used to dive down and bring up abalone for the men to eat while THEY cleaned and butchered the whales they harpooned.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, what\u2019s in this pouch over here?\u201d Hoss asked, pointing to a small, unadorned leather drawstring bag that had taken from the larger medicine bag earlier on.<\/p>\n Rachael opened it, then taking Hoss\u2019 large hand in her own small one, she carefully poured the contents, an assortment of beads, carved from shell, coral, and stone, two kernels of corn, and several small shells, all gleaming with their own natural luster, into his palm. With Hoss\u2019 hand still cradled within both of hers, she stared down at the beads, shells, and corn kernels for a long moment.<\/p>\n \u201cI had forgotten about . . . about these,\u201d Rachael murmured at length. \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon had been teaching me her ways of healing . . . ways that have been handed down from m-mother to . . . to daughter for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. The beads and the shells would have b-been used in the . . . in the birthing of my first rattle to be used for healing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAww, dadburn it . . . Rachael, I-I\u2019m sorry . . . I didn\u2019t mean to upset you,\u201d Hoss immediately apologized.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss, you haven\u2019t upset me,\u201d Rachael hastened to assure him. \u201cYou\u2019ve . . . ALL of you . . . h-have helped me so much by . . . by just letting me . . . remember\u2014 \u201d She broke off, unable to continue. She felt Ben\u2019s arm around her shoulders and Stacy\u2019s hand on her forearm. Rachael closed her eyes and leaned back against the settee, grateful beyond measure for the comfort and reassurance both offered in a simple touch.<\/p>\n Hoss carefully returned the beads, shell, and corn back to the smaller bag from which it came.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d<\/p>\n She opened her eyes. \u201cYeah, Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou, uh . . . feel up to answering a question?\u201d he ventured hesitantly. \u201cI promise, it\u2019s not personal or anything like that . . . . \u201d He frowned. \u201cAt least I don\u2019t THINK it is . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you want to know?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you mean just now when you said the beads and shells were for the BIRTHING of your first rattle?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael offered Ben and Stacy a reassuring, if still tremulous smile, then took a deep breath. \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon taught me that everything we make, whether it be drums and rattles used in sacred ritual or the pots we use for cooking already exists in spirit,\u201d she explained. \u201cWhen we make it, we give it birth here, on earth.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m gonna think about that next time I sit down to do a little whittlin\u2019,\u201d Hoss said thoughtfully.<\/p>\n \u201cOne thing I . . . I regret very much is . . . that Lammieh Towakh Moon\u2019s ways of healing have, well they\u2019ve died with her,\u201d Rachael said sadly.<\/p>\n \u201cDid she teach her ways of healing to her sons and . . . and to her other daughter?\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n \u201cBy tradition, the ways Lammieh Towakh Moon learned in healing are passed from mother to daughter,\u201d Rachael replied. \u201cShe DID teach Olhaiyu Klutsma, who I later learned was a great, powerful healer in her own right . . . and she started to teach ME.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAs long as YOU live, Rachael, the ways Lammieh Towakh Moon taught you continue to live,\u201d Ben pointed out.<\/p>\n \u201cBut, I will never have an opportunity to use them . . . not now,\u201d she said, her voice heavy with despair, \u201cand by the time I have my own daughter, I\u2019ll probably have forgotten all the things Lammieh Towakh Moon taught me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Rachael, you\u2019ll remember,\u201d Ben insisted in a gentle, yet very firm tone, \u201cjust as Stacy still remembers the ways her Paiute foster mother, Silver Moon, taught HER.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael looked over and favored Stacy with a wan smile and squeezed her hand. \u201cYou let Stacy remember, Mister Cartwright,\u201d she said, then added, half embarrassed with a touch of rancor, \u201cYou saw for yourself h-how Mama feels about . . . about me remembering.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, whenever you need to remember, you\u2019re welcome to come here, anytime, no invitation necessary,\u201d Ben said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cCan I? Really?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnytime you want,\u201d Ben reiterated.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d also like you to remember something else, as a favor to me, but also for your OWN sake . . . AND your mother\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Rachael asked warily.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease try and remember that five years ago, a young GIRL, not much more than a child, got on a stage to go to Oregon to visit family,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cThree days ago, a young WOMAN came home. Your mother, through no fault of her own, couldn\u2019t be there to see, maybe help guide that child into becoming a woman. She has a big adjustment to make, too, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . to be perfectly honest, I hadn\u2019t considered things from that perspective, Mister Cartwright,\u201d Rachael said slowly. \u201cBut . . . the cruel, horrible things she says . . . I just wish I could somehow get through to her that the Chinook didn\u2019t hold me prisoner.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe you WILL, if you can somehow meet her half way,\u201d Ben suggested.<\/p>\n \u201cY-you . . . really think so, Mister Cartwright?\u201d she queried dubiously.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t give you any absolute guarantees, Rachael, only that it would be worth the while to TRY. I know it won\u2019t be easy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNothing that\u2019s really worth while IS ever easy,\u201d Rachael said ruefully. \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon taught me that, too. But I promise you, Mister Cartwright, I\u2019ll at least TRY.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, supper ready ten minutes!\u201d Hop Sing announced.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Hop Sing! All of a sudden, I\u2019M hungry enough to eat a bear!\u201d Rachael declared.<\/p>\n \u201cCome along, we\u2019d best get out to the kitchen and wash up,\u201d Ben rose, and urged his offspring and guest to follow suit.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019m hungry enough to eat a whole twenty-mule train!\u201d Hoss countered with a grin. \u201cMule skinners \u2018n all!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEeewww!\u201d Stacy\u2019s grimace was comically grotesque.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m glad to see Big Brother here\u2019s got HIS appetite back!\u201d Joe quipped, punctuating his words with a playful elbow jab to Hoss\u2019 rib cage. \u201cI hafta admit, the thought of eating mule skinners kinda takes MY appetite away though . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s ok, Li\u2019l Brother. I\u2019LL eat yours,\u201d Hoss offered, grinning from ear to ear.<\/p>\n Rachael, meanwhile, fell in step beside the Cartwright daughter, as they entered the kitchen. \u201cStacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan I . . . can I see what you have in YOUR medicine bag after supper?\u201d Rachael ventured hesitantly.<\/p>\n \u201cY\u2019 know? Now that Rachael mentions it, I don\u2019t think you\u2019ve ever shown US what\u2019s in your medicine bag, Stace,\u201d Joe remarked.<\/p>\n \u201cYou haven\u2019t!?\u201d Rachael favored Stacy with a bewildered frown.<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . don\u2019t like looking into it very much,\u201d Stacy said, her voice tremulous. \u201cWhenever I do? I think about that last time I saw Silver Moon, and I\u2014 \u201d She broke off, unable to continue.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Stacy, I\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Rachael said quietly, as she slipped her arm around Stacy\u2019s shoulders. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean to bring up old wounds.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019M the one who should be sorry, Rachael. It\u2019s been five . . . going on SIX years . . . I should be OVER this by now!\u201d<\/p>\n As he stepped up to the kitchen pump, Ben was surprised, not so much by the grief he heard in his daughter\u2019s voice, but by the depth of anger, most of which seemed to be directed toward herself . . . .<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cBlip, blip, blip, blip, BLOP!\u201d Joe gloated triumphantly as he circled the checkerboard, leapfrogging over every last remaining piece belonging to his opponent. \u201cWinner and STILL undefeated champion!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI still think you\u2019re cheatin\u2019 somewhere,\u201d Hoss declared with a scowl.<\/p>\n \u201cHe didn\u2019t this game, Hoss,\u201d Rachael said. \u201cI watched him the entire time like a hawk.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe thumbed his nose as his brother, then turned his attention back to Rachael. \u201cHow about ANOTHER game, Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou betcha,\u201d she agreed, \u201cexcept THIS time, I get the red pieces.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour wish is MY command,\u201d Joe agreed, as they began to divvy up the checkers.<\/p>\n After a leisurely supper of beef stew, left over from dinner, with dumplings, and the remainder of the chocolate cake, Ben had retreated to the red leather easy chair next to the fireplace with a good book, while his sons, daughter, and guest set up the checkerboard. Rachael sat in the middle of the settee, flanked on either side by Stacy and Hoss, while Joe perched himself on the edge of the coffee table.<\/p>\n \u201cThis time, I\u2019LL get to move first,\u201d Rachael said as they set up for the next game.<\/p>\n \u201cIt won\u2019t do ya any good,\u201d Joe countered. \u201cWhether I go first or second, I\u2019ll still win \u2018cause I\u2019M the better player.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI STILL say it\u2019s \u2018cause ya cheat!\u201d Hoss said.<\/p>\n The grandfather clock struck the hour of nine.<\/p>\n \u201cI had no idea it was so late!\u201d Ben gasped. He placed a scrap sheet of paper in the book to mark his place, then snapped the book shut. \u201cRachael . . . Joe, I think your rematch is going to have to wait.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, I\u2019m ready anytime YOU are,\u201d Joe said, rising.<\/p>\n \u201cDitto that sentiment,\u201d Rachael quipped.<\/p>\n \u201cUntil next time,\u201d Joe took her hand in his, bowed with a flourish and kissed it, prompting a sarcastic roll of the eyes from both siblings.<\/p>\n \u201cUntil next time,\u201d Rachael agreed.<\/p>\n \u201cUh oh . . . I, uhh, think we\u2019d better get you out of your riding clothes,\u201d Stacy said, suddenly realizing that Rachael still wore the clothes she had borrowed for their riding expedition.<\/p>\n \u201cOops!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, YOUR clothes should still be upstairs on my bed,\u201d Stacy said, taking Rachael\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n Rachael and Stacy ran quickly up the stairs to the latter\u2019s bedroom. There, Rachael quickly changed back into her skirt and blouse, while Stacy neatly folded the pants she had loaned to their guest.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould you do me a favor?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlease keep my medicine bag here with yours,\u201d Rachael asked, as she carefully placed her bag in Stacy\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, I\u2019d be more than happy to keep your medicine bag here with mine,\u201d Stacy said, clearly taken aback by Rachael\u2019s request. \u201cAre you SURE you don\u2019t want it with you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid to take it back home with me, Stacy,\u201d Rachael said sadly. \u201cAfter what my mother did to my buckskin dress . . . . \u201d She looked up at Stacy earnestly, her brown eyes meeting and holding Stacy\u2019s blue ones. \u201cI know it will be safe here, in your keeping.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and I was also thinking that maybe, if I didn\u2019t return home with it . . . well, maybe it would help us meet somewhere half way, like your father said earlier.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded. \u201cIf you want or need your medicine bag or anything from it, just let me know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will. For now, though, I just want to know that it\u2019s in good hands for safe keeping.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy stepped over to the massive chest of drawers, against the north-facing wall running perpendicular to the wall with the window. She opened the top drawer, and placed it in beside the small jewelry box her father had given her last Christmas, that contained several pieces of antique jewelry that had belonged to his mother and maternal grandmother. \u201cIt\u2019ll be right here, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Stacy,\u201d Rachael said gratefully.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI hope everything turns out ok with you and your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I hope so, too, Stacy. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSTACY! RACHAEL! BOTH OF YOU, SHAKE A LEG! WE NEED TO GET A MOVE ON!\u201d Ben bellowed from downstairs.<\/p>\n \u201cCOMING, PA!\u201d Stacy yelled back in response. \u201cReady?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah. Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for inviting me to come here today,\u201d Rachael said, her voice catching on the last word. \u201cI wish I could find the words to tell you . . . how wonderful today\u2019s been for me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWords aren\u2019t necessary!\u201d Stacy, acting purely on impulse, slipped her arms around Rachael and hugged her.<\/p>\n Rachael smiled and hugged back.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 5<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Tom! Tom! Darling, guess what?\u201d Clara turned from the living room window, clapping her hands with excitement.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it, Clara?\u201d Tom asked. He was ensconced in his favorite easy chair for the evening with a glass of port in hand and a copy of the latest edition of the \u201cTerritorial Enterprise,\u201d on his lap.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael\u2019s home! Oh, Darling, Darling, come quick! Come see!\u201d Smiling, her dark eyes wide with delighted astonishment, Clara turned back to the window and watched as Rachael and Stacy walked together up the front walk together. Ben followed a few steps behind them. The two girls seemed to be in very animated conversation, and Rachael was actually smiling for the very first time since she got off that stage three days ago. Best of all, she didn\u2019t have that filthy animal bag with its shells and heathen images.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling, it\u2019s Rachael! OUR Rachael! Our Rachael\u2019s back, Darling! It\u2019s her, she\u2019s back!\u201d<\/p>\n The near hysteria he heard in his wife\u2019s voice brought an anxious frown to Tom Marlowe\u2019s face. \u201cOf course our Rachael\u2019s back, Clara. You told me when I came home this evening that she was visiting Stacy at the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara laughed, a soft melodic laugh with a hard steel knife-edge. \u201cSilly, Tom! You don\u2019t understand! It\u2019s OUR Rachael! OUR Rachael, Darling, back just the way she was!\u201d<\/p>\n Jenkins, the chief butler, stepped to the open door to the family living room, located on the second floor of the Marlowes\u2019 home, and coughed discreetly before entering.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Jenkins?\u201d Tom inquired blandly, while folding the newspaper. Clara, smiling, clasped her hands together, expectantly. Her eyes darted rapidly from her husband to Jenkins, and back to her husband.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright and his daughter have returned with Miss Rachael, Sir. I have taken the liberty of showing them to the drawing room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Jenkins. Please escort them up here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Sir.\u201d Jenkins inclined his head slightly, then withdrew.<\/p>\n A few moments later, Ben entered the room followed by Stacy and Rachael.<\/p>\n Tom rose, and placed the folded newspaper on the end table next to his chair. \u201cHello, Ben,\u201d he greeted his old friend with a tired, yet welcoming smile. \u201cPlease, come in and sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Tom, but Stacy and I need to be getting on back,\u201d Ben politely declined the invitation to stay and visit. \u201cI\u2019m sorry we\u2019re so late getting Rachael home. After supper, Joe insisted on teaching Rachael how to play checkers, and we ended up losing track of the time until the clock in the living room struck nine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid you enjoy yourself, Darling?\u201d Clara asked, as she slipped her arm around Rachael\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n Rachael\u2019s entire body stiffened against her mother\u2019s touch, but tonight, she didn\u2019t pull away. \u201cI had a wonderful time today, Mama.\u201d She turned and smiled at Ben and Stacy. \u201cThank you again, very much for inviting me today, Stacy . . . and you, too, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was our pleasure, Rachael,\u201d Ben said sincerely.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re welcome to come out any time you want,\u201d Stacy added.<\/p>\n Rachael left her mother, to walk over and give Stacy a big affectionate bear hug. \u201cThanks again, Stacy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re welcome, Rachael.\u201d Stacy hugged Rachael back with equal affection.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Stacy, you and I need to move along,\u201d Ben urged his daughter gently.<\/p>\n \u201cBen, you SURE you and Stacy can\u2019t stay, even for just a little while?\u201d Clara asked, punctuating her words with a pout.<\/p>\n \u201cNot tonight, Clara,\u201d Ben said. \u201cHoss, Joe, and Stacy, will be getting up early tomorrow morning to take feed out to our winter pastures. Perhaps another time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Ben, surely you don\u2019t have a delicate young lady like Stacy doing back breaking chores like your boys?!\u201d Clara was aghast.<\/p>\n \u201cIn the first place, Mrs. Marlowe, the Ponderosa\u2019s a family operation, which means the entire family pitches in,\u201d Stacy said, glaring venomously at Clara. \u201cThat includes ME! Second, I may be young, but I\u2019m NOT delicate by any stretch of the imagination, and— \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, we\u2019d best get a move on,\u201d Ben said again, this time with the intention of keeping his daughter and Clara from coming to blows. \u201cGood night, Everyone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood night, Rachael . . . you, too, Mister and Mrs. Marlowe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBen . . . Stacy, I\u2019ll see you to the door,\u201d Tom said. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back, Clara.\u201d \u201cDinner was ready when we arrived, pretty much,\u201d Rachael began. \u201cIt was delicious, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara\u2019s face fell. \u201cI . . . see,\u201d she murmured softly. \u201cWhat did you have?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe had beef stew, with potatoes, sweet potatoes, peas, corn, tomatoes, onions,\u201d Rachael rambled on, oblivious to her mother\u2019s increasing dismay. \u201cHop Sing also made up fresh biscuits, and we had chocolate cake for dessert.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBeef stew?\u201d Clara echoed, incredulous.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, it was so good . . . the beef just melted in your mouth, literally\u2014 \u201d She frowned, noting the dismayed grimace on her mother\u2019s face. \u201cMama? What\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, uuhh, nothing\u2019s WRONG, Darling, not really, I suppose . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut . . . . ?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell . . . no, Darling, it\u2019s too silly, actually . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlease, Mama, what is it?\u201d<\/p>\n Clara looked over at her daughter, her smile wavering. \u201cIt\u2019s just that I . . . I asked Cook to fix all your favorite dishes, Darling, you know . . . for your homecoming,\u201d she said hesitantly. \u201cJust for you, to . . . well, to try and make you feel welcome.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo need to feel sorry, Darling.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe food Cook fixed was delicious,\u201d Rachael added quickly. \u201cHonestly, it was . . . it\u2019s just that . . . those sauces were so rich, I . . . well, I guess I\u2019m not used to that . . . now.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI see!\u201d Clara snapped.<\/p>\n \u201cAfter supper we played checkers, while Mister Cartwright read,\u201d Rachael continued, taken aback by her mother\u2019s sudden change of mood from warm and friendly, almost conciliatory to cold and angry. \u201cJoe beat everybody.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara, once again smiling warmly, linked her arm through Rachael\u2019s and huddled close. \u201cI\u2019m glad you remembered your manners and let HIM win,\u201d she cooed. \u201cYou know how fragile the male ego is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cActually, I DIDN\u2019T let him win, Mama. Hoss accused him of cheating a time or two, but Joe didn\u2019t. He won fair and square all by himself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh he did, did he?\u201d Clara chortled.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, he did. I KNOW because I watched him the entire time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you talk about?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDifferent things, Mama,\u201d Rachael said evasively.<\/p>\n \u201cTell me!\u201d Clara demanded, lowering her voice to a confidential level. She began to squirm impatiently on the settee next to her daughter. \u201cI told you I want to hear everything!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I . . . found that Stacy and I have a lot in common.\u201d Rachael replied, her voice a wooden monotone. She suddenly felt like a trapped wild animal by her mother\u2019s close proximity. \u201cI . . . I want to see more of her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat can certainly be arranged, Rachael.\u201d It was her father, returning from seeing the Cartwrights out. He smiled. \u201cBen and Stacy just got through telling me again how much they enjoyed having you . . . and that they\u2019d like to have you come back very soon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d like that, too, Papa,\u201d Rachael said quietly. \u201cI\u2019d like that very much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut, what did you and Stacy and the others all talk about, Darling?\u201d Clara wheedled.<\/p>\n \u201cIt was mostly things that . . . that, well . . . that Stacy and I have in common, Mama,\u201d Rachael said stiffly. \u201cNothing YOU\u2019D be interested in particularly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, stop badgering the girl,\u201d Tom chided her gently. \u201cI doubt very seriously that Stacy keeps up with the latest gossip, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . see.\u201d Clara immediately unwrapped her arms from around Rachael\u2019s arm, and stiffly slid as far as she possibly could to the other end of the settee. Her daughter\u2019s reluctance to recount her conversations with the Cartwrights, coupled with her husband\u2019s chiding stung, like an entire hive of wasps, or yellow jackets—thousands of them all able to sting once, then circle around and come back to sting again and again.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe and Stacy took me out riding, too,\u201d Rachael continued. \u201cThey showed me some really beautiful places on the Ponderosa. One place, there was a hill. They made me go up first.\u201d She smiled. \u201cStacy said it was a Cartwright family tradition. The view up there . . . . \u201d Her eyes misted dreamily, and her smile faded. \u201cPapa . . . Mama . . . it was magnificent! They . . . Joe and Stacy . . . told me it\u2019s the kind of place you need to see for the first time alone. They were so right.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll have to ask Ben to take ME out there,\u201d Tom said thoughtfully, \u201cwhen the weather warms. I haven\u2019t the stamina to go out in the dead of winter, like you young folks seem to have.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara moaned, and buried her face in her hands.<\/p>\n \u201cClara?\u201d Tom prompted, looking over at his wife anxiously.<\/p>\n Clara lifted her face and looked over at her daughter. Rachael flinched against the intensity of her mother\u2019s gaze. \u201cHow could you possibly have gone riding?\u201d she demanded. \u201cI . . . I know Ben keeps side saddles around, for guests, but . . . you didn\u2019t take your riding costume with you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy loaned me a pair of HER britches, Mama. Except for her being a bit taller, we\u2019re roughly the same size.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara moaned and buried her face in her hands once again.<\/p>\n \u201cMama?\u201d<\/p>\n Tom walked over to the settee, and gently placed his hands on his wife\u2019s shoulders. \u201cClara, what is it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cR-Rachael . . . she went out riding . . . wearing a pair of . . . of britches like some common ranch hand,\u201d Clara sobbed, \u201cand in front of Joe Cartwright, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, I think the night you and I went to the Ponderosa for dinner is the second, maybe third time I\u2019ve EVER seen Stacy wear a dress at home,\u201d Tom said with a bemused look on his face.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy Cartwright\u2019s NEVER known how to dress properly,\u201d Clara wailed. \u201cWhy Ben so adamantly refuses take a firm hand in the matter . . . I can\u2019t even begin to fathom!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama . . . Papa . . . . \u201d Rachael rose from the settee, then turned to face her parents. \u201cIt\u2019s been a full day today, and I\u2019m feeling very tired. I\u2019d like to go on up to my room now, and get ready for bed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course,\u201d Tom nodded. \u201cGood night, Rachael. I\u2019m glad you enjoyed your visit with the Cartwrights today.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Papa, I did. Good night.\u201d She turned to face her mother, still seated on the settee. \u201cGood night, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . yes, w-well . . . g-good night, Darling.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cI have TWO bones to pick with you, Young Woman,\u201d Ben said as he and Stacy rode back to their home in the enclosed buggy.<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe first has to do with Miss Klein\u2019s skirt.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy swallowed nervously. \u201c . . . uh oh . . . uhhh . . . what, exactly about Miss Klein\u2019s, ummmm . . . skirt, Pa?\u201d She had all but forgotten . . . .<\/p>\n \u201cTheir butler, Mister Jenkins, came into the drawing room while I was talking with Mrs. Marlowe. He told me that Miss Klein\u2019s skirt was torn when she took you upstairs to Rachael\u2019s room,\u201d Ben said. \u201cMiss Klein seems to be under the impression that it WASN\u2019T an accident.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa, I . . . I\u2019m afraid, ummm . . . Miss Klein\u2019s under the, ummm . . . right impression?!\u201d Stacy admitted, with a healthy dose of fear and trembling. Owning up to the truth might save her tender hide from what Hoss and Joe wryly referred to as a \u201ctanning you\u2019ll never forget,\u201d but she STILL wouldn\u2019t be able to sit comfortably for the next few days. The thought of spending the entire next day in the saddle after a trip to the barn . . . .<\/p>\n She winced, then shuddered.<\/p>\n \u201cI trust you have a good explanation for what happened to Miss Klein\u2019s skirt?\u201d Ben queried, his scowl deepening.<\/p>\n \u201cShe made me mad, Pa!\u201d Stacy replied, her own face darkening with anger upon remembering the incident.<\/p>\n \u201cI sincerely hope that\u2019s not the best explanation you can come up with,\u201d Ben said with a touch of wryness.<\/p>\n Stacy angrily recounted the mostly one-sided conversation with Marjorie Klein as they walked up the stairs to Rachael Marlowe\u2019s room. \u201cIt was when she told me that . . . well, that things would have been a lot better all the way around if . . . if Rachael had just plain turned up dead, instead of . . . of coming home an ignorant, heathen savage.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe ACTUALLY said that?!\u201d Ben asked, thoroughly appalled.<\/p>\n \u201cShe didn\u2019t actually say the part about Rachael coming home an ignorant, heathen savage,\u201d Stacy replied, \u201cbut she DID say it would have been better all the way around if Rachael had turned up dead!\u201d She turned and looked into her father\u2019s face, her eyes meeting his, boldly, without flinching. \u201cPa . . . that was a horrible thing to say! If she had been a man, I . . . I . . . so HELP me, I would\u2019ve belted her one!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor Miss Klein to say that everyone would be better off if Rachael had died WAS a terrible, cruel thing to say,\u201d Ben wholeheartedly agreed. \u201cEven so, that still doesn\u2019t excuse what YOU did, Young Woman. We\u2019ve had quite a number of discussions about your temper before.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded warily.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you remember what I told you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou said I hafta learn to NOT let it get the better of me,\u201d Stacy replied, \u201cand I did, Pa. Instead of belting her one in the gob like I wanted to do, I . . . I, ummm . . . ripped her skirt . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhile I AM glad you refrained from in your words, \u2018belting Miss Klein one in the gob,\u2019 the willful destruction of her property is NOT a suitable alternative,\u201d Ben admonished her sternly.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat else COULD I have done?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou could have done one of two things, Young Woman,\u201d Ben replied. \u201cYou could have simply changed the subject of conversation yourself, or you could have told Miss Klein that you didn\u2019t want to talk about Rachael long before she ended up wishing the poor girl dead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d Stacy murmured, rueful and contrite.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sorry you did what you did?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . want to say yes, Pa, but the truth is . . . I just plain don\u2019t know,\u201d Stacy replied, resigning herself to a trip out to the barn when they arrived home. \u201cI AM sorry I didn\u2019t even think of doing what you just said, but I\u2019m NOT sorry I took up for Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t fault ya for taking up for a friend,\u201d Ben allowed. \u201cAs for the other . . . I told Miss Klein that I would pay for replacing the skirt you damaged, AND for two more skirts in addition to that. I, in turn, will withhold your allowance until all three skirts have been paid in full.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Sir,\u201d Stacy murmured.<\/p>\n \u201cFurthermore,\u201d Ben continued, \u201cyou will be responsible for doing ALL of the barn chores . . . morning and evening . . . for the next two months.\u201d \u201cYou will also be responsible for feeding the chickens, gathering the eggs, AND keeping the kindling box full.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cY-Yes, Sir,\u201d Stacy responded with fast sinking heart, all the while silently telling herself if could be a lot worse . . . .<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and finally,\u201d Ben concluded, \u201cto make sure you have ample time to complete those extra chores AND keep up with your school work, you\u2019re restricted to the house, the barn, and the front yard. The only exceptions will be the trip back and forth to school, when that resumes . . . and helping your brothers take feed out to the herd.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Pa,\u201d Stacy replied. \u201cIs it, ummm . . . alright if I ask you a question?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGo ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow come you umm . . . weren\u2019t so hard on me when I . . . well . . . when I accidentally started that fight in the Silver Dollar Saloon last summer, the night before The Wedding of the Century?\u201d she asked. \u201cThe saloon was a lot more demolished than Miss Klein\u2019s skirt . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhenever the Silver Dollar gets busted up in a fight, the men responsible more often than not pay for the damages,\u201d Ben explained. \u201cOnce in a while a man serves thirty days in jail because he can\u2019t . . . or WON\u2019T pay, but most of the time they DO pay. Sam is also well able to make due until broken windows are repaired, and broken tables, chairs, and tables can be replaced.<\/p>\n \u201cHowever, most women in Miss Klein\u2019s position have limited means. VERY limited means,\u201d Ben continued. \u201cThey have very little to spend on clothing. Now I can\u2019t tell ya for sure whether this applies to Miss Klein personally or not, but a good number of women, who, like her, who work as servants for wealthy men and their wives, are lucky if they own ONE skirt and perhaps a half dozen or so blouses.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben immediately saw that his words were a new revelation to his young daughter, judging from the look of astonishment he saw in her eyes, now round as saucers, and mouth slightly open.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou pay the men who work for you a decent living wage . . . you mean to tell me that . . . the Marlowes . . . that they DON\u2019T pay Miss Klein a decent living wage, too?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWealthy people like the Marlowes more often than not provide room and board,\u201d Ben replied, \u201cand pay a small wage over and above that. People like Miss Klein have to use what little money they have to buy their own clothing, and . . . other things they need. Now, if the skirt you damaged ended up being the only skirt Miss Klein owned . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, Pa. I didn\u2019t know,\u201d Stacy said, in a voice barely audible, filled with remorse.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow that you DO know, I think it might also be a good idea if you wrote Miss Klein a note, apologizing for what you did,\u201d Ben suggested.<\/p>\n \u201cI will,\u201d Stacy immediately promised, \u201cand next time, I\u2019ll try to do what you said.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know you will,\u201d Ben replied in a kindlier tone.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s the OTHER bone you want to pick with me?\u201d Stacy asked, mentally bracing herself.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not a bone exactly,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cIt\u2019s just that I noticed that you were awfully quiet through out the evening. Is everything alright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess,\u201d she replied, punctuating her answer with an indifferent shrug.<\/p>\n \u201cYou feel up to talking about it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa, did Rachael tell you that she was married?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Ben shook his head.<\/p>\n \u201cShe told Joe and me, when we were out riding this afternoon,\u201d Stacy said sadly. \u201cThe place where we took Rachael reminded her of a place where Aiak Enanamuks, her husband, took her.\u201d<\/p>\n That statement of fact, softly spoken, brought with it all of what she and Joe felt, when Rachael released the grief, the sadness, and longing she had kept bound up inside. But, it wasn\u2019t the imagined faces of Lammieh Towakh Moon and Aiak Enanamuks that rose within Stacy\u2019s thoughts. It was the remembered faces of Silver Moon, Chief Soaring Eagle, Leaping Antelope, her blood brother . . . .<\/p>\n . . . and Jason O\u2019Brien, whose family had been close friends and neighbors for many years. He had been courting her ever since the Independence Day race, under the watchful eye of her father, her brothers, and Hop Sing. The thought of being parted from him . . . with no hope of ever seeing him again . . . .<\/p>\n \u201cWhen were Rachael and Aiak Enanamuks married?\u201d Ben asked, noting Stacy\u2019s sudden, valiant struggle not to burst into tears.<\/p>\n \u201cShe said\u2014 \u201d Stacy broke off, unable to speak.<\/p>\n \u201cHas it been very long?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLast year.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s heart went out to Rachael, separated, perhaps forever, from someone she apparently loved so deeply. He silently resolved to do what he could to not only help her, but maybe help her parents understand when they learned that their son-in-law was a full-blooded Chinook.<\/p>\n Ben relegated Rachael, and his own resolves concerning her to the back of his thoughts, and turned his attention to a growing concern closer to home. He strongly suspected that being with Rachael, the inevitable sharing of their lives and experiences among Chinook and Paiute, had stirred up Stacy\u2019s own feelings of grief and loss that almost certainly accompanied her forced separation from Silver Moon and her Paiute Family. From the first day she took up residence on the Ponderosa, Stacy had freely talked about Silver Moon, and shared the knowledge and wisdom given her by her Paiute foster mother. Ben, Hoss, Joe, and even Hop Sing, actively encouraged this. Yet, in all that time, he couldn\u2019t remember a time when she actually mourned the loss of her Paiute family.<\/p>\n The buggy pulled into the yard a few moments later. Candy and two of the younger ranch hands, new hires learning the ropes, appeared to take charge of the conveyance and two horses.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy?\u201d Ben queried as they entered the house together.<\/p>\n \u201cY-yeah, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben walked over toward the settee facing the fireplace, where a warm and welcoming, if waning, fire still burned. \u201cCome on over here and sit down for a minute,\u201d he invited.<\/p>\n Stacy paused at the door to remove her hat and jacket, before walking over and taking a seat next to her father on the settee. She said nothing, just looked up at him, waiting.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, I\u2019ve never asked you this straight out, but . . . . \u201d Ben turned and gazed earnestly into her face and eyes. \u201cDo you regret parting company with your Paiute family?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, not since I\u2019ve come to live here with you. Silver Moon told me early on that I had been placed into her care as kind of a trust, until the time came for me to leave her to go with my father. She said Great Spirit showed her that in a dream, so . . . all along, she and I both knew I would leave them someday. But the WAY we had to part company . . . .<\/p>\n \u201cThey had us at the fort, Pa . . . rounded up, bunched together . . . like cattle. Silver Moon had her arms tight around me, holding on for dear life. For just about the whole time I was with her, I never knew her to be afraid of anything. But, that day in the fort, I knew she was afraid . . . and THAT frightened me, more than just about anything.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben quietly placed a comforting, paternal arm around her shoulders. He felt her slide across the settee and nestle close in the crook of his arm, as she haltingly told him the rest . . . .<\/p>\n A man wearing dark blue uniform had come and literally ripped her from the protective circle of Silver Moon\u2019s arms. Stacy kicked and screamed with all her might in a valiant effort to free herself. Silver Moon, her face contorted with anger and fear, for herself and for the young girl placed in her care six years before, broke from the ranks, and surged toward Stacy and the uniformed man struggling to hold her.<\/p>\n Another uniformed man took hold of Silver Moon, then another. The Paiute woman with the easy superhuman strength born of desperation, shook herself free of the first man to grab her. She continued moving toward Stacy Dancing Colt, the child she had come to love and cherish as a daughter. Another man replaced the first man, and a third quickly stepped in, struggling with the others to stop Silver Moon.<\/p>\n While her foster mother valiantly fought against the men struggling desperately to keep them apart, Stacy, with a hard, sudden wrench, twisted in the grip of the man trying to restrain her, placing her mouth close to his bare hand. She opened her mouth and clamped her teeth down hard, breaking skin and drawing blood. The man screamed in pain and let her go. Stacy ran, only to be snatched again before she could run three paces. \u201cFirst, they took me away from the only real, honest-to-goodness family I had ever known. Then, they took away the name Silver Moon gave me, and insisted on calling me by my grandmother\u2019s name. She wasn\u2019t a very nice woman, and I still can\u2019t shake the feeling that she hated me. Then, they locked me up in a jail cell . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA jail cell?!\u201d Ben queried, feeling terribly sick at heart and very angry.<\/p>\n \u201cThey kept me there until they took Silver Moon and the others away. They were afraid I\u2019d escape.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, I had no idea . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Ben remembered Erin O\u2019Donnell, a young woman who almost certainly would have become his daughter-in-law, had the fates been kinder.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright, there\u2019s something I have to tell you . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n He heard her voice again, speaking softly in a very calm, almost bland monotone, devoid of all feeling, as she showed him the scars on her wrist left behind by the manacles used to bind her when she was arrested and jailed in the Dakotas, for fighting with the Sioux against the army. \u201cNo sunshine . . . no air . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Erin O\u2019Donnell\u2019s words again echoed through his thoughts, and his memories as clearly as they had the evening she had spoken them.<\/p>\n \u201cNo wonder she can\u2019t stand being closed in,\u201d Hoss had observed, after she had left the table abruptly, to seek a measure of solace in the barn.<\/em> [iv]<\/p>\n No wonder indeed! What Erin endured went beyond the bounds of solitary confinement to the lonely darkness of the grave. The thought of Stacy, not much more than a child, being literally torn from a loving family, then jailed, suffering all that Erin had, left Ben feeling heart sick and deeply angry.<\/p>\n In the three days that followed her forced separation from Silver Moon, and subsequent incarceration, Stacy, frightened and despondent, had refused to eat. Major Baldwin, faced with the very real prospect of the child literally starving herself to death, struck what amounted to a devil\u2019s bargain. IF, and ONLY if Miss Stacy Louise solemnly promised to eat the food set in front of her, he would allow her to see Silver Moon one last time, to say good-bye.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should have seen her face, Pa. Her eyes were coal black with no life, no light in them. It was as if some part of her had died. That . . . that w-was the last time I . . . I ever s-saw her . . . . \u201d Stacy suddenly burst into tears.<\/p>\n Ben gathered her in his arms and held her close as she wept. He had fully expected HER anger and grief, even the tears, but not the profound anger the knowledge of what Stacy and her Paiute family suffered at the hands of the cavalry men stationed at Fort Charlotte, had aroused within himself.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Pa, I\u2019m . . . I\u2019m sorry, I . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Her apology, and the depth of regret and remorse her heard in her voice initially shocked and surprised him. Then, suddenly, he saw and understood something that he had never known before. Something that had never even occurred to him, until this very moment!<\/p>\n \u201cStacy . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n She looked up at him expectantly, the tears still flowing freely down her cheeks.<\/p>\n \u201cI wish to heaven I had thought to tell you this, earlier on,\u201d Ben said, his voice filled with regret, \u201cbut there\u2019s no need for you to be sorry. You CAN be happy here . . . with Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing, and me . . . and still miss Silver Moon, Chief Soaring Eagle, and the other members of your Paiute family . . . at the same time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I can?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben, keeping one arm firmly around Stacy, reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief. \u201cYes, you can,\u201d he said quietly, placing the clean handkerchief into her hands.<\/p>\n \u201cAfter I f-found out they were . . . they were going to let me c-come with YOU? Mrs. Crawleigh told me I . . . that I c-couldn\u2019t love Silver Moon and the others . . . that I-I shouldn\u2019t even think of them anymore because . . . because it would be d-disloyal to you.\u201d<\/p>\n In that moment, if Ben could have but one wish, it would be that one Mrs. Vivian Crawleigh could be turned into an a fine strapping individual, by the name of VICTOR Crawleigh, who stood at the very least, a whole head taller and weighed in at a good thirty pounds heavier . . . so he could personally pound his face into the ground.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy,\u201d Ben said, thrusting those delicious fancies aside. \u201cI want to tell you something. If you never listen to anything else I ever say, I want you to hear this,\u201d he said earnestly.<\/p>\n She peered earnestly into his face, her own blue eyes meeting and holding his dark brown ones.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re NOT going to stop loving your Paiute family, because you\u2019ve joined your family here on the Ponderosa,\u201d Ben\u2019s tone was gentle, yet with a touch of firmness. \u201cI would NEVER ask or expect it of you, and neither would your brothers. Loving Silver Moon, Chief Soaring Eagle, and the others . . . and missing them ISN\u2019T an act of betrayal or disloyalty toward me, your brothers, or Hop Sing . . . nor does it mean that you love US any less.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy felt the stinging of fresh tears in her eyes. \u201cPa, I . . . I hope you know that I love you, Adam, Hoss, Joe . . . and Hop Sing . . . very much.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I know,\u201d Ben said slipping his other arm around her. \u201cJust as I hope YOU know that we love you, too. . . very much. Nothing can or will EVER change that!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do miss Silver Moon, Chief Soaring Eagle, and Leaping Antelope,\u201d Stacy said haltingly, without remorse and without guilt for the first time. \u201cSometimes . . . Pa, sometimes I miss them so bad, it hurts\u2014 \u201d The words not yet spoken were suddenly drowned, swept away in the flash flood of tears and agonized weeping, as her heart began to finally release some of the pain and grief borne of the loss of her Paiute family.<\/p>\n Later, after the worst of the storm, generated by the release of her pain, grief, and anger, had passed, Stacy rested quietly in the protective circle of her father\u2019s arms, drawing comfort and reassurance from his loving presence.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhen Silver Moon left that day, the last time I ever saw her? She thought she had failed to honor the trust g-given her. I . . . . \u201d She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes once again. \u201cI wish there was SOME way to let her know that she DID honor her trust . . . that I AM with my family.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou said Great Spirit told Silver Moon that you had been given to her as a trust,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cI\u2019d like to think that Great Spirit also found a way to let her know that she DID honor her trust and that you\u2019re with your family.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI hope so.\u201d Stacy somehow managed to get her arms around Ben\u2019s waist and give him a big, bear hug. \u201cThanks, Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben smiled and returned her hug with equal affection. \u201cFor what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor not forcing me to give up the ways Silver Moon taught me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI could never in a million years do a thing like that. The lessons and the ways Silver Moon taught you are a very important part of who YOU are.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey are?! Really?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, really! To take away what Silver Moon gave you is to take away a very important part of the beautiful young woman you are.\u201d Ben looked down at her, and smiled. \u201cAnd to do THAT would be unthinkable because I love you very much the way you ARE.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks, Pa.\u201d She hugged him again, and held tight for a moment. \u201cI love you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 6<\/p>\n The following morning, Hoss Cartwright paused by the open door to his sister\u2019s bedroom, and glanced in. He was surprised to find the old, well-worn overalls, and plaid flannel shirt that she wore when she did the barn chores, lying neatly folded on the seat of the hard-backed chair over next to the window.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOver here, Hoss.\u201d \u201cI thought it was MY turn t\u2019 do the barn chores this week,\u201d Hoss said, his eyes momentarily drifting to her work clothes on the chair.<\/p>\n \u201cNope. I\u2019m afraid it\u2019s MY turn to do the barn chores . . . AND feed the chickens . . . AND gather the eggs . . . AND keep the kindling box filled . . . for the next two months,\u201d Stacy responded with a melancholy sigh.<\/p>\n \u201cHoo boy!\u201d Hoss groaned. \u201cSounds like YOU\u2019VE been a bad girl.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid so,\u201d Stacy replied in a disparaging tone of voice. She told Hoss about the incident involving Miss Marjorie Klein\u2019s skirt, and the conversation between herself and their father on their way home from the Marlowes\u2019 last night.<\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t say as I blame ya for getting mad at Miss Klein,\u201d Hoss said quietly, \u201cbut Pa\u2019s right all the same.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know . . . now, anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess that means you won\u2019t be able t\u2019 go with Joe \u2018n me over t\u2019 Valhalla t\u2019 see Brunhilda.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid not. The only place I can go with you \u2018n ol\u2019 Grandpa is out to the winter pasture when we take feed to the herd,\u201d she sighed with genuine regret. \u201cHoss?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWillya tell Brunhilda hello for me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI sure will,\u201d Hoss promised. \u201cHop Sing sent me up here t\u2019 tell ya that breakfast\u2019s almost ready . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be right there, Hoss.\u201d She began to carefully gather up the pieces spread out before her and return them to the open fringed leather pouch sitting next to her, on the bed.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat all y\u2019 got there?\u201d Hoss asked, his eyes falling on the assortment for the very first time.<\/p>\n \u201cCome and see, Big Brother,\u201d Stacy invited.<\/p>\n Hoss entered the room, stopping at the side of her bed. \u201cHey, ain\u2019t that the stuff y\u2019 brought home with ya from Fort Charlotte?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss recognized the heart shaped gold pendant, engraved \u201cStacy Louise.\u201d It was Stacy\u2019s only connection to her life before the Paiutes. Because the small pendant and chain had so obviously been crafted for a child, the officers at Fort Charlotte had erroneously assumed the necklace belonged to Stacy herself, when in fact, it had been given to her maternal grandmother when she was a child.<\/p>\n \u201cI had no idea you had such a treasure trove hidden up here, Li\u2019l Sister,\u201d Hoss said with a smile.<\/p>\n There were two stones . . . river stones . . . both white quartz, made round and smooth by the river from which they had been taken. There were animals, too, carved from wood and stone. Among them, a buffalo, carved from turquoise, greenish blue laced with brown striations, the same color brown as the aspen leaves that have lost their brilliant gold hue and fallen to the ground. Though the piece was small enough to easily fit in the palm of Stacy\u2019s open hand, it powerfully conveyed the stolid massiveness of the animal. It was decorated with three tiny beads, one white, two red, and a single feather.<\/p>\n Stacy smiled. \u201cBuffalo reminds me a lot of YOU, Big Brother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh yeah?\u201d Hoss queried, returning her smile.<\/p>\n \u201cThe buffalo\u2019s a mainstay,\u201d Stacy explained. \u201cHides for tipis, clothing, blankets, meat for food, bones for tools, the innards for bags, even hooves for glue. Silver Moon used to make a pretty tasty soup, too . . . from the blood.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss found a chair and drew it up beside the bed. \u201cSounds like you\u2019da been pretty much lost without Buffalo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust like we\u2019d be pretty much lost around here without YOU, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss smiled. Two spots of subtle color appeared on his cheeks. \u201cWell, I ain\u2019t so sure \u2018bout THAT, Li\u2019l Sister. Pa built the Ponderosa \u2018n still pretty much runs it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and he watches over her . . . and US, too. This is more how I see Pa.\u201d \u201cEagle is the totem spirit of . . . of my Paiute family,\u201d Stacy began.<\/p>\n Hoss smiled, realizing that this morning was the first time he had ever heard his young sister refer to the tribe who had raised her as HER family. \u201cWhat, exactly is a totem spirit, Li\u2019l Sister?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn this case, the totem spirit is the spirit who leads, guides, watches over, and protects the entire family. That\u2019s why, when my grandfather was made chief, he took the name Soaring Eagle.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cKinda like a guardian angel?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cPa\u2019s been, and still IS every bit o\u2019 that for all four of US,\u201d Hoss said thoughtfully, as he gazed down at the eagle lying in the palm of his hand, \u201cand the Ponderosa, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s more. Silver Moon told me the Eagle is also a messenger of Great Spirit. THAT reminds me of the strong faith Pa has in God, faith strong enough to move mountains, in the words of his sacred book.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, he does at that,\u201d Hoss said thoughtfully, as he reflected back on what he knew of his father\u2019s life: the years he had risked his life to sail the seven seas, starting from the age he would have been old enough to serve aboard ship as a cabin boy; the four women he had loved, cherished, and tragically lost; the strength and courage to take on the daunting task of raising three sons, and now a daughter, alone . . . .<\/p>\n . . . and the dream, he had nurtured and sustained over the course of many years, that lead him, Hoss\u2019 mother, Inger, and his two oldest children on the long, often arduous journey that stretched all the way from Boston to Nevada.<\/p>\n \u201cLike Eagle, Pa is the spirit and guardian of this family and the Ponderosa. But, YOU, Big Brother, like the buffalo, are the bounty . . . and the heart . . . that sustains us all of us, even Pa.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss placed the eagle back down on the bed and started to hand her the buffalo. Stacy took his hand and gently closed his massive fingers around the turquoise piece. \u201cIt\u2019s yours, Big Brother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMine?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded, still holding his hand in both of hers.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Li\u2019l Sister. I\u2019ll always treasure it.\u201d As she would always treasure him. Hoss saw that plain as day in her eyes. Smiling, he placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed it gently.<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019 gaze wandered over the other animals spread out on the bed. There was a bear, carved from a piece of jet-black stone, polished to a glossy shine. She, and she was very plainly a she, was asleep, hibernating. The gentle slopes and curves of her body formed a near perfect sphere. She had been adorned with white beads and a small white feather, shaped long and slender. He also recognized the stone shapes that so clearly formed beaver, fox, cougar, owl, turtle , antelope, howling wolf, otter, coyote, and hummingbird.<\/p>\n The doe, like bear and buffalo, also caught and held Hoss\u2019 attention. She was carved from white stone, tiny ears cocked forward, her head and neck rigid, listening. Her entire streamlined body and slender legs seemed poised, ready to run, to leap away in less than the wink of an eye. A circlet of tiny turquoise and blue beads circled her neck. Attached to the deer\u2019s necklace was a tiny hawk\u2019s feather, and a string of beads carved from stag\u2019s antlers.<\/p>\n \u201cLi\u2019l Sister, if Pa\u2019s an eagle, an\u2019 I\u2019m a buffalo, then this critter\u2019s YOU!\u201d Hoss smiled and pointed to a horse, whittled from a piece of wood, lightly hued. \u201c \u2018Specially the way the pair o\u2019 you can run like the wind, nigh on forever, it seems.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s how I got my Paiute name. Silver Moon told me she named me Stacy Dancing Colt because I was a bundle of energy, never wanting to sit still for a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOk, Kid . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Hoss and Stacy turned and found Joe, standing in the open doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest. \u201c . . . what kind of animal am I?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can tell ya right now, Li\u2019l Joe, that the kind o\u2019 animal YOU are . . . AIN\u2019T in this collection.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do YOU know?\u201d Joe demanded.<\/p>\n \u201c \u2018Cause I don\u2019t see no jackasses among Stacy\u2019s animals.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOohh, you\u2019re sooo-oooo funny, Big Brother, har de har har!\u201d He pivoted, grabbed one of the pillows from Stacy\u2019s bed, turned and hit Hoss over the head with it.<\/p>\n \u201cGrandpa, I think you may be THIS animal.\u201d Stacy reached into her bag and pulled out another horse, carved from black and white onyx. This horse<\/p>\n had been carved, rearing up on its back legs. Its elongated, thickened tail formed the third point of the carving\u2019s base. She placed it in the palm of Joe\u2019s open hand.<\/p>\n Joe held up the tiny stone carving, and smiled. \u201cHey! He kinda looks like Cochise!\u201d he exclaimed, surprised and delighted. He held out the carved pinto, intending to return the piece to his sister.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s YOURS!\u201d Stacy said.<\/p>\n \u201cYou sure, Kid?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sure, Grandpa.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTHERE you are!\u201d<\/p>\n Three heads rose and turned toward the open door to Stacy\u2019s bedroom in unison. They found their father standing, framed in the open door, just on the other side of the threshold, with arms folded across his chest.<\/p>\n \u201cYou three had best get moving,\u201d Ben admonished his offspring sternly. \u201cYour breakfast is getting COLD, and Hop Sing getting HOT!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, Pa,\u201d Stacy murmured contritely, as she began to quickly gather together the contents of her medicine bag, \u201cit\u2019s all MY fault.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s eyes were immediately drawn to the carved animals, the feathered hairpieces, the jewelry, the two river stones, and a familiar heart shaped pendant on a gold chain. Intrigued, he unfolded his arms, and stepped into the room. \u201cIs that the contents of your medicine bag, Young Woman?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Stacy nodded. \u201cLike I told Hoss when HE came in, I . . . well, for the first time since leaving Silver Moon and my Paiute family, I felt like I wanted to go through the bag and take a look at everything.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s got some real pretty things in there, Pa,\u201d Hoss added with a smile. \u201cI will, Pa,\u201d Stacy promised.<\/p>\n \u201cWHERE EVERYBODY GO?! BREAKFAST ON TABLE, GET VERY COLD, EVERYBODY TURN INVISIBLE! HOP SING QUIT! GO TO SAN FRANCISCO, HELP NUMBER NINE COUSIN IN RESTAURANT.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, you can run up and put away the contents of you medicine bag AFTER breakfast,\u201d Ben said. \u201cRight now, I think the four of us had better get ourselves right down to the table, pronto.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Rachael Marlowe was aroused from a sound sleep by the rapid-fire percussion of human knuckles striking the fast closed door of her bedroom. She slowly opened her eyes, then closed them, dismayed by the fast closed drapes, shutting out the morning light. For the last three days now, since her visit to the Ponderosa, she had asked, ordered, screamed, threatened, pleaded, just about everything short of dropping down on her knees and begging, for maids to raise the shades and part the curtains. Every time, her mother countermanded her requests.<\/p>\n \u201cYoo hoo, Rachael Darling, are you awake?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael groaned.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling, please? I\u2019m so excited I\u2019m about to burst.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust a minute, Mama . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Without further preamble, the door opened and Clara waltzed into the room, properly garbed in a stunning yellow print morning dress, with hair coiffed, and make-up applied with precise perfection. \u201cDarling, I WAS going to tell you at breakfast, but I\u2019m so excited I just couldn\u2019t wait.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it, Mama?\u201d Rachael asked warily.<\/p>\n \u201cNext Friday night, your father and I are going to have an intimate little soiree,\u201d Clara said, her eyes glittering with excitement. She dashed across the room, squealing with pure delight. \u201cWhat do YOU think, Darling?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael opened her eyes and looked up at her mother, standing beside the bed, smiling broadly, with hands tightly clasped at her throat. Her eyes and face glowed with excitement and anticipation.<\/p>\n \u201cWell?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2019s coming?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought I\u2019d invite a few close friends.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you going to invite the Cartwrights, Mama?\u201d<\/p>\n A tiny frown knotted Clara\u2019s brow as she gingerly seated herself on the edge of Rachael\u2019s bed. \u201cWell, noo-ooo . . . . \u201d A sunny smile suddenly broke out on her face. \u201cYou silly, silly, Darling. I want to invite YOUR friends.\u201d<\/p>\n A puzzled frown knotted Rachael\u2019s brow. \u201cAren\u2019t the Cartwrights my friends?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, Ben, your father and I have all been friends for a good number of years, of course, but, Rachael Darling, this soiree is for you and YOUR friends.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I don\u2019t understand,\u201d Rachael murmured, raising herself up to her elbows.<\/p>\n \u201cJenny Lind, Angela Griffith, Susan Murphy, poor thing, I swear! She grows plumper by the DAY! Millicent Adams, snooty piece of bag and baggage though she IS, Lee Mayhew, Kirk Sutcliff, Greg and Roger Sherwood . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Those were the names of people who belonged to another lifetime that died in the aftermath of a stagecoach robbery along a lonely road somewhere in Oregon, nearly five years ago. These were no longer the names of friends and acquaintances, but rather the names of strangers. \u201cMama?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Darling?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAren\u2019t you going to invite Stacy Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf COURSE not!\u201d Clara snapped, then smiled once again. \u201cDarling, Stacy\u2019s a little YOUNG, don\u2019t you think? She\u2019s ONLY sixteen years old, after all, and a very IMMATURE sixteen at that! Don\u2019t you agree?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe IS high spirited, Mama,\u201d Rachael said, smiling as she recalled the lively banter among Stacy, her brothers, and Candy, as they prepared to sit down to dinner the day before. \u201cSo are Hoss and Joe, but in a GOOD way. I don\u2019t see that as being immature, in fact, from what I saw of Stacy yesterday, I think she\u2019s one of the most mature people I know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, come on, Darling,\u201d Clara urged, blithely rambling on as if Rachael had not spoken. \u201cWe\u2019re going straight into town to Madame Darnier\u2019s!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cM-Madame Darnier\u2019s?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf COURSE, Silly. You need a dress for next Friday\u2019s soiree. Come, come, Rachael Darling, we simply MUST move along.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Dear?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was just wondering, instead of going to all the trouble of putting together a big soiree, could we maybe, just have a simple dinner and invite the Cartwrights?\u201d Rachael asked, as she reluctantly rose from prone to sitting position.<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps another time,\u201d Clara said in a dismissive tone.<\/p>\n Suddenly, Rachael\u2019s stomach lurched.<\/p>\n \u201cD-Darling?\u201d Clara noted her daughter\u2019s suddenly pale face with alarm.<\/p>\n \u201cM-Mama, I . . . I think I\u2019m going to be sick . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Clara bolted out of her daughter\u2019s room, screaming for Marjorie. A few moments later, a dreadfully long eternity to Clara, Marjorie appeared, with bowl in hand. She immediately took charge of the situation, asking Babette, Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s personal maid to kindly escort the distraught Clara back to her room. She dutifully held Rachael\u2019s head, seeing her through a wrenching spasm of largely dry heaves. After the worst of Rachael\u2019s distress had passed, Marjorie bathed her face with a cool, soothing cloth, then settled her back into bed.<\/p>\n Marjorie walked down the hall to Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s bedroom, and there knocked resolutely on the closed door. Babette, a thin woman with hair a shade of red not normally occurring in nature, cracked open the door and peered anxiously into Marjorie\u2019s face.<\/p>\n \u201cIs Mrs. Marlowe . . . . ?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe is lying down,\u201d Babette said, with a heavy and pronounced French accent, \u201cwith . . . ache of head. But she keeps asking me how is Miss Rachael. Come in, s\u2019il vous pl\u00e2it. Please.\u201d She opened the door further, then demurely stood aside, allowing Marjorie to enter.<\/p>\n Marjorie found Clara Marlowe lying on her bed, with an ice pack pressed to her forehead. \u201cMrs. Marlowe?\u201d<\/p>\n Clara impatiently threw aside the ice pack and bolted upright, from prone to sitting. \u201cMarjorie, is Rachael . . . . ?\u201d she stammered, peering up into Marjorie\u2019s face intently.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael is in bed, resting comfortably for the moment.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . don\u2019t suppose she\u2019ll be able to go into town now,\u201d Clara pouted morosely.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Ma\u2019am, I wouldn\u2019t advise it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, this is just AWFUL! She\u2019s been sick every single morning since she\u2019s come home,\u201d Clara wailed, wringing her hands. \u201cHow am I EVER going to get that dress made?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, seeing as how you\u2019ve got your heart so set on it, why don\u2019t YOU stop by Madame Darnier\u2019s and ask if she\u2019d be willing to come here and take Miss Rachael\u2019s measurements,\u201d Marjorie suggested. \u201cIf she is, you could pick out a dress pattern and material while you\u2019re there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a wonderful idea!\u201d Clara exclaimed, delighted that her planned trip to Madame Darnier\u2019s dress shop need not be necessarily postponed after all. \u201cOh, Marjorie, I simply don\u2019t know WHAT I\u2019d do without you sometimes.\u201d Suddenly, her face fell. \u201cBut, what about Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019ll be alright, Mrs. Marlowe,\u201d Marjorie hastened to reassure. \u201cAnnabelle\u2019s with her now, and knows to ring me, if Miss Rachael should take a turn for the worse.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOohhh! I\u2019d so hoped that spending the day at the Ponderosa, in all that nice clean fresh air might cure whatever\u2019s ailing her,\u201d Clara pouted.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m beginning to think a visit from Doctor Martin might be in order,\u201d Marjorie said thoughtfully.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know, Marjorie, doctors make me so nervous.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sure it\u2019s nothing serious, Ma\u2019am, but all the same, it wouldn\u2019t HURT to have Doctor Martin come out and check her over, and who knows? He just might have something in that little black bag of his that\u2019ll fix Miss Rachael right up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, alright,\u201d Clara agreed reluctantly. \u201cSend Annie. Cook can do without her for a few hours.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am,\u201d Marjorie murmured, then took her leave.<\/p>\n \u201cBabette.\u201d Clara\u2019s pouting face abruptly evaporated into a sunny smile. \u201cFix my hair, it\u2019s gotten mussed since I\u2019ve been lying down. I\u2019m going to town.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, and call Jenkins. Tell him to have Rogers bring \u2018round the phaeton.\u201d *********<\/p>\n \u201cBEN! YOOO-OOOO! BEN!\u201d<\/p>\n He turned at the sound of his name and was delighted to see Clara Marlowe, rosy cheeked and smiling, stepping out of Madame Darnier\u2019s dress shop.<\/p>\n \u201cGood morning, Clara,\u201d Ben smiled, and politely tipped his hat. \u201cNothing like having a new dress made to lift the spirits, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe dress in question\u2019s not for ME, Ben,\u201d she said, falling in step beside him. \u201cIt\u2019s for RACHAEL.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re having a soiree next Friday night,\u201d Clara chattered happily. \u201cNothing big and elaborate, mind. Just a small, simple, intimate gathering, with a sit down dinner and musical entertainment. Oh, Ben, this is so exciting, Tom\u2019s going to arrange for Mister Clarence Tolliver to come.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben frowned for a moment, trying to recall the name. At length, he shrugged and shook his head. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Clara. I don\u2019t believe I\u2019ve ever heard of this Mister Tolliver.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara stared over at Ben, crestfallen, for the length of time it takes to blink once. \u201cHe\u2019s a concert pianist, up and coming, from New York,\u201d she said condescendingly. \u201cMister Tolliver has been giving performances all week in Carson City, but it just so happens that a very good friend of Tom\u2019s actually KNOWS Mister Tolliver\u2019s manager\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cW-what does Rachael have to say about all this?\u201d Ben asked, taken aback by news of the soiree.<\/p>\n \u201cOohh! She\u2019s a little nervous and reluctant, but once she\u2019s back among her friends . . . her REAL friends, I mean, well, the ice will be broken, she\u2019ll be right back to her old vivacious self, chattering away like a regular little magpie.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben shivered as an ice cold shadow passed over and through him. He glanced upward, figuring a cloud had passed over, briefly obscuring the light and warmth of the sun. He was mildly surprised to see a cloudless bright blue sky. \u201cI, uh guess Rachael\u2019s still in with Madame Darnier?\u201d he asked anxiously.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, she\u2019s NOT, Ben.\u201d There was a touch of exasperation in her voice. \u201cShe didn\u2019t come to town with me today, I\u2019m afraid.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben frowned. \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe woke up feeling a mite poorly again this morning.\u201d Her tone was light, carefree, and dismissive. Clara looked up at Ben and smiled. \u201cThe next time my Rachael comes out to the Ponderosa, you\u2019ll simply have to make sure you don\u2019t do anything too strenuous, like she did yesterday. My little darling-darling has a very delicate constitution, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry Rachael\u2019s not feeling well, Clara,\u201d Ben said, privately nursing grave doubts as to her blithe assessment of Rachael\u2019s constitution. \u201cPlease, tell her I asked about her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will, Ben, I promise you,\u201d Clara said quickly.<\/p>\n \u201cClara, about that soiree you\u2019re planning\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019d simply love to stay and chat, but I have a million things to do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI need to push on myself. It was good talking with you, Clara, and I\u2019m glad to see YOU\u2019RE feeling better.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Ben. It was lovely chatting with you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cDoctor Martin, are you absolutely sure?\u201d Rachael asked, following a complete and thorough examination from Paul Martin. His wife, Lily, was also present, seated on the edge of the bed next to Rachael.<\/p>\n \u201cGiven what you\u2019ve told me and my examination, there\u2019s no doubt at all in my opinion,\u201d Paul said quietly. \u201cI\u2019d like to begin seeing you once a month to start.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cMay I ask you a personal question, Rachael?\u201d Paul asked, noting the sadness deeply etched into the lines and planes of her face. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to answer it, of course, but it\u2019s certainly something you need to think over . . . given your present circumstances.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWh-what is it, Doctor Martin?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo you want the child?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I do,\u201d Rachael said immediately. \u201cI loved . . . LOVE . . . this child\u2019s father very much, more than I\u2019ve ever loved anyone\u2014 \u201d She broke off unable to continue.<\/p>\n Lily Martin edged closer, and placed her hands comfortingly on Rachael\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n Rachael, taking comfort and a measure of reassurance from Lily Martin\u2019s loving and kind presence, wiped her eyes on the edge of her sleeve, and took a deep breath. \u201cAiak Enanamuks, the father of my child to be, and I WERE married, Doctor . . . Mrs. Martin. It was a tribal wedding ritual, but for me no less binding than a church wedding for you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand,\u201d Paul murmured. Looking into his eyes and face, Rachael knew that he DID understand, or at the very least, he made an effort to TRY and understand.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about Aiak Enanamuks, Rachael?\u201d Lily asked, treading very carefully.<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . I don\u2019t know whether he\u2019s alive . . . or dead,\u201d Rachael said haltingly.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Lily murmured sympathetically.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you.\u201d Rachael reached up, covering Lily\u2019s hand still resting on her shoulder, with her own. \u201cTelling Papa won\u2019t be easy, but I think I could manage that if it was . . . well, if it was just him. But the thought of . . . of having to tell Mama . . . . \u201d She shuddered.<\/p>\n Lily Martin\u2019s heart went out to the young woman sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. She knew all too well how capricious Clara Marlowe could be, even on the best of occasions. She found herself shuddering along with Rachael.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, Lily and I can break the news to your mother, if you wish,\u201d Paul offered.<\/p>\n \u201c . . . or, if you want to be the one to tell her, we\u2019re more than willing to be with you,\u201d Lily added.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d Rachael said gratefully, looking from one to the other.<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps Stacy and Mister Cartwright, too.\u201d She told the Martins about visiting the Ponderosa the day before. \u201cI told Joe and Stacy about my marriage to Aiak Enanamuks . . . I-I ended up getting very emotional, but bless their hearts, they were right there . . . crying along with me.<\/p>\n Rachael sighed, then smiled wistfully. \u201cYou know . . . it\u2019s kind of funny in a way. Stacy had not long ago joined the Cartwright family when I started out on that trip to Portland. I kinda thought of her a wild little kid whose main reason for living was horses. Me . . . I was a lot like Mama, always looking ahead to the next party, the next new dress, trying to keep up with the latest gossip, and the latest in fashion.<\/p>\n \u201cBack then, I never, in a million years, ever, could have imagined that the likes of Stacy Cartwright and I would have anything in common. Now . . . well, she\u2019s NOT a little kid anymore, and . . . she may be the only real friend I\u2019ve got.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s one thing I\u2019ve come to know about the Cartwrights, Rachael,\u201d Lily said with a smile. \u201cYou make friends with ONE Cartwright, you\u2019ve made friends with the whole family. Paul and I sure found THAT out when we first came.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour parents and Ben have been friends for a number of years, too,\u201d Paul added. \u201cIf you need moral support, there\u2019s no doubt in MY mind, he\u2019ll be more than willing to give it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Doctor Martin.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you need the doctor or me for anything, Rachael, please don\u2019t hesitate to ask,\u201d Lily said kindly. \u201cWe were there when you came into this world, and we\u2019re both here for you now, anytime you need us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mrs. Martin.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUnless you have any questions, I\u2019ll see you next month, in my office,\u201d Paul said.<\/p>\n After saying good-bye to the Martins, she rang for Marjorie and asked her to see them down to the front door. \u201cI\u2019d like Annabelle to come . . . with pen, paper, and envelope.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n Annabelle, her personal maid, timidly entered the room a few moments later, with the requested stationary in hand. Rachael took the pen and paper and scrawled a hasty note. \u201cI want to get this out to Mister Ben Cartwright at the Ponderosa,\u201d she said, as she signed her note and stuffed it in the envelope. Rachael wrote \u2018Mr. Cartwright\u2019 across the face of the envelope, then as an after thought, added, \u2018and Stacy.\u2019 She sealed the envelope and presented it to her maid.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Rachael, I . . . I can\u2019t possibly leave now . . . Miss Klein asked me to keep an eye on you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m feeling better now, Annabelle,\u201d Rachael said firmly. \u201cIf I need anything while you\u2019re gone, I can ask Marjorie or any of the other maids in this house. I want that note delivered to Mister Cartwright as soon as possible.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss.\u201d Annabelle curtseyed, dipping her knee slightly and inclining her head, before leaving.<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and, Annabelle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d rather you did NOT tell my mother, Miss Klein, or anyone else where you\u2019re going and why,\u201d Rachael added as an after thought.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 7<\/p>\n \u201cThe good Lord oughtta strike y\u2019 down with lightenin\u2019 good \u2018n proper, Miss Marjorie Hepzibah Klein, for spreadin\u2019 around such lies!\u201d Grace O\u2019Leary, the Marlowes\u2019 chief cook declared indignantly. She was a short woman, standing just under five feet tall, stocky, with white hair and sharp, piercing blue eyes. Grace stood in front of her stove, with arms folded resolutely, defiantly across her ample chest, glaring murderously up at Marjorie.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s no lie, Mrs. O\u2019Leary!\u201d Marjorie stated primly. \u201cI heard Doctor Martin say so myself, word for word.\u201d<\/p>\n Grace\u2019s eyes narrowed. \u201cYou was actually . . . really \u2018n truly in the room when t\u2019 doc said it?\u201d<\/p>\n Marjorie\u2019s pale complexion suddenly flushed pink.<\/p>\n \u201cWell?\u201d Grace pressed. \u201cWas ya?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . uuhhh, no!\u201d Marjorie admitted very reluctantly.<\/p>\n \u201cThen how could ya have heard it with your very own ears?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s easy, Mrs. O\u2019Leary,\u201d Carrie Blanchard said. Aged in her mid-thirties, widowed, with two daughters and an elderly mother to support, she cleaned the houses of Virginia City\u2019s well to do. Three weeks ago, she had been hired on at the Marlowes as extra help to prepare for Rachael\u2019s homecoming. \u201cMiss Klein, like as not, had her ear plastered to Miss Rachael\u2019s door the entire time Doc \u2018n Mrs. Martin were there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI most certainly and assuredly did NOT!\u201d Marjorie declared, outraged. \u201cI dropped my handkerchief in front of the door to Miss Rachael\u2019s room. Of course I bent down to pick it up. When I did . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAggh!\u201d Grace snorted derisively.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s the pure God\u2019s honest truth!\u201d Marjorie snapped.<\/p>\n The others, which included Catherine Hyde and Cindy Fletcher, two of the upstairs maids; Annie Jones, Grace O\u2019Leary\u2019s assistant; Patty Moorehead, Carol Hill, and Josephine McRainy, the kitchen maids, and Edward Jenkins, tittered and exchanged knowing looks among themselves.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, it is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf you say so, Miss Klein,\u201d Edward Jenkins said in a condescending tone of voice.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, if it\u2019s true . . . . \u201d Grace turned and glared pointedly at Marjorie, \u201cand I ain\u2019t sayin\u2019 it IS, mind, we oughtta feel sorry for her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Miz O\u2019Leary, you don\u2019t think poor Miss Rachael was . . . attacked . . . do you?\u201d Patty queried, her eyes round with both eagerness and a morbid fascination.<\/p>\n \u201cAgh, y\u2019 read too many o\u2019 them penny dreadful novels, Girl,\u201d Grace snorted. She exhaled a short, curt exasperated sigh, then shook her head dolefully. \u201cI was more thinkin\u2019 o\u2019 Miz Marlowe . . . how SHE\u2019S gonna be when she finds out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMrs. O\u2019Leary, I wouldn\u2019t feel too sorry for Mrs. Marlowe, or Miss Rachael, either, for that matter,\u201d Carrie Blanchard said. \u201cThey\u2019ve got more \u2018n enough money to send the girl away to, ummm, visit Aunt Petunia?! . . . \u2018til the baby\u2019s born \u2018n given up for adoption. When she comes back in a year or so, the matter will be all but forgotten. The Marlowes got enough money to see t\u2019 THAT, too.\u201d<\/p>\n A murmur of complete agreement spread through the crowd of servants gathered in the kitchen.<\/p>\n \u201cWell . . . . \u201d Carrie Blanchard rose, and stretched. \u201cI need t\u2019 be pushin\u2019 on if I\u2019m gonna get back to Virginia City before dark.\u201d<\/p>\n Marjorie reached into the pocket of her apron and drew out a plain white envelope with \u201cMrs. Blanchard,\u201d scrawled across the surface. \u201cYour wages,\u201d she said as she placed the envelope into Carrie\u2019s outstretched hand. \u201cMrs. Marlowe MIGHT need you next week, from Thursday evening to Saturday morning, to help with that soiree she\u2019s putting together for Miss Rachael. Would you be available then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure,\u201d Carrie shrugged indifferently. She took the envelope from Marjorie\u2019s out stretched hand, and stuffed it into the pocket of her coat, lying on the kitchen table along side her handbag. \u201cJust let me know.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n The insistent knocking at the door, roused Ben from the task of sorting through the mail he had picked up at the post office in town, earlier that day. He rose from his desk, and walked over to the front door. Upon opening it, he found himself looking down onto the stricken face of a petite, diminutive young woman, not much more than a girl, looking up at him through green eyes, set in sockets round as saucers.<\/p>\n \u201cM-M-Mister Ben Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben smiled, hoping to put her at ease. \u201cYes, I\u2019m Ben Mister Cartwright. What can I do for you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Marlowe asked me to bring this to you.\u201d Annabelle removed the envelope from the folds of her shawl and offered it up to the Cartwright clan patriarch looming so high above her head.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, uuhh, Miss . . . . ?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnnabelle, Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you step inside for a moment?\u201d Ben invited, as he slit the envelope open, with his thumb.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019d best not, Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben removed the note and read it\u2019s brief message quickly:<\/p>\n \u201cDear Mister Cartwright,<\/p>\n Need to see you as soon as possible. Matter urgent. Stacy welcome if available.<\/p>\n Many thanks, Rachael Marlowe.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben folded the note and placed it back in the envelope. \u201cAnnabelle . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cY-yes, Mister Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlease tell Rachael I\u2019ll be along, as soon as I get my horse saddled, but I\u2019ll be coming alone. Stacy and her brothers aren\u2019t back from taking feed to the winter pastures yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, I\u2019ll be sure to tell her,\u201d Annabelle said quickly, before turning heel and fleeing back across the yard to Manuel and the big gelding waiting. \u201cHANK!\u201d Ben bellowed as he crossed the yard between house and barn. He fastened the gun belt around his waist, and slipped on his gloves.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Mister Cartwright?\u201d Hank responded as he stepped from the barn, bundled up against the cold.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease saddle Buck.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure thing, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and when my sons and daughter return, would you please tell them I\u2019ve ridden over to the Marlowes to see Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Rachael, Mister Cartwright will be along directly,\u201d Annabelle reported sotto voce, \u201cbut he said to tell you he\u2019s coming alone. Miss Stacy and her brothers aren\u2019t back from the winter pastures yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you very much, Annabelle,\u201d Rachael said gratefully, as she finished combing her long hair.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss, I can braid that for you, if you\u2019d like.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael smiled, graciously refraining from telling the young maid that she could do that herself, in fact had been during her time with the Chinook.<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps later, after Mister Cartwright has left,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss.\u201d Annabelle shyly returned Rachael\u2019s smile.<\/p>\n Rachael had risen, after sending Annabelle off to the Ponderosa, washed and quickly dressed herself in a skirt the reddish brown color of richly stained cherry wood and a plain white long sleeved blouse. \u201cMama would no doubt be absolutely appalled by MY woeful lack of fashion sense,\u201d she groused wryly, in silence. Since returning to her parents\u2019 home outside of Virginia City, she found that her own fashion sense preferred simplicity.<\/p>\n A knock on her closed bedroom door, soft and discreet yet insistent, scattered Rachael\u2019s nebulous thoughts. \u201cYes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJenkins, Miss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnnabelle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss.\u201d Annabelle moved quickly, covering the distance between the full-length mirror, where she had been standing with her mistress, to the door on the other side of the room, in less than half dozen giant strides. She silently opened the door, allowing Jenkins to step inside.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Rachael, Mister Cartwright is here to see you. I have taken the liberty of showing him to the drawing room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Jenkins. Please offer Mister Cartwright refreshment and tell him I\u2019ll be there directly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael quickly pulled her long hair back and secured it at the nape of her neck with a plain silver clip.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Rachael entered the drawing room, a scant few moments later. Ben set aside the cup of coffee and saucer, and rose from his place on the settee, noting her pallid complexion with dismay.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for coming so quickly,\u201d she said gratefully. \u201cPlease . . . sit down. To, umm get right to the heart of things, I need your help, Mister Cartwright. Doctor Martin and his wife were here to see me two hours ago.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI ran into your mother in town earlier,\u201d Ben said gently. \u201cShe told me you weren\u2019t feeling well. I . . . hope it\u2019s nothing serious.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael favored him with a wry, if wan smile. \u201cCommon \u2018ailment\u2019 actually, one that\u2019s come upon most women at one time or another since Eve. I . . . I\u2019m going to have a baby, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy told me about your marriage on our way home last night,\u201d Ben said kindly. \u201cWhat . . . about your husband?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTo tell you the truth, I don\u2019t know whether Aiak Enanamuks is alive or dead,\u201d she said sadly. \u201cMost of the men, my husband among them, were away on a hunting trip when the cavalry swooped down on our village. Every last one of the people in the village were killed, Lammieh Towakh Moon among them. I\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n Ben quietly reached over and touched her hand, resting lightly on the arm of her chair.<\/p>\n Rachael looked over at Ben, her eyes meeting his. She placed her other hand over top his. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t a battle . . . or a war . . . it was a slaughter!\u201d she forced herself to continue. \u201cWomen . . . children, some of THEM babies \u201cI don\u2019t know if the cavalry men engaged our hunter-warriors BEFORE they killed everyone in the village or if they lay in wait for their return. They may have decided not to even wait around for the warriors. In any case, I was taken back to their barracks at gunpoint. I was AFRAID to ask them about Aiak Enanamuks and the others. If they hadn\u2019t encountered the hunter-warriors, well . . . I didn\u2019t want the soldiers to get any ideas about looking for them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, I have a couple of well placed friends in Oregon who owe me at least a dozen favors. I can write to them and ask them to make inquiries, if you wish.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould you, Mister Cartwright? This . . . not knowing . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n Looking into his eyes and face, Rachael knew that he spoke truly. \u201cThank you,\u201d she murmured with heartfelt gratitude, then added ruefully, \u201cI hope Stacy and Joe are all right. When I told them about Aiak Enanamuks yesterday, I\u2019m afraid things got very emotional . . . for all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben noted the increased brightness of her eyes, exacerbated by the sunlight streaming in through the drawing room windows, and the quivering lower lip. \u201cRachael, Stacy and Joe openly wear their hearts on their sleeves, and they\u2019re very sensitive to the feelings of people they care very much about,\u201d he said. \u201cThat\u2019s one of the things that endears both of them to me. They\u2019re fine.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael nodded, unable to speak.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s something else I want to tell you,\u201d Ben continued. \u201cYou were talking about not having the opportunity to practice the healing ways Lammieh Towakh Moon taught you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cY-yes . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want you to know that being with you yesterday, talking about the time she lived with the Paiutes, seeing the contents of your medicine bag opened Stacy\u2019s eyes . . . and MINE . . . to emotional wounds she has been carrying since her time at Fort Charlotte.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben nodded, then shared with her Mrs. Crawleigh\u2019s parting words to Stacy. \u201cAll that time she couldn\u2019t allow herself to grieve for Silver Moon and the others because of what that woman said! Had it not been for our time with YOU yesterday, Stacy might have gone on for another six years, or worse, might never have been able to allow herself to mourn Silver Moon\u2019s loss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLammieh Towakh Moon told me time and time again that when we loose someone, we can\u2019t come to a place of healing until we take time to mourn our loss,\u201d Rachael said slowly.<\/p>\n \u201cThanks in large part to you Stacy will be able to reach that place of healing . . . in time.\u201d Ben smiled. \u201cThis morning, when I looked in on her, she was showing the contents of HER medicine bag to her brothers . . . for the first time. She told Hoss that today was the first time those lovely stone carvings Silver Moon gave her brought back a lot of good memories of her Paiute family, without a lot of the sadness or worse, the guilt.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright. I\u2019m happy to know I\u2019ve been a small measure of help for Stacy and you, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t sell yourself short, Rachael, last night was no SMALL measure,\u201d Ben said. \u201cYour presence yesterday turned out to be a healing balm for Stacy. I\u2019m sure Lammieh Towakh Moon taught you about the powerful healing that can come with talking, and listening.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Rachael nodded, \u201cshe did. That was one of the first lessons she taught me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI hope you can find a way to practice the methods and the ritual Lammieh Towakh Moon passed on to you, Rachael. It would be a shame to loose that. But, if you can\u2019t, you CAN still be a very powerful healer by practicing the arts of listening and talking, as Lammieh Towakh Moon ALSO taught you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright. I . . . I hadn\u2019t even considered THAT possibility.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn the meantime, what can I do to help YOU?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYOOO-OOO, YOOO-OOOO! RACHAEL DARLING, I\u2019M HOME!\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael\u2019s heart plummeted to her feet.<\/p>\n A moment later, Clara burst into the drawing room, her face flushed and eyes sparkling with excitement. \u201cGood afternoon, Ben, Jenkins told me you were here,\u201d she gushed. \u201cWhat-in-the-world-EVER brings you out to THIS neck of the woods?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben rose politely. \u201cWhen I spoke to you in town, you told me that Rachael wasn\u2019t feeling well. I thought I\u2019d stop by and visit, if she was up to it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI AM feeling a little better now, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s most kind of you, Ben.\u201d Clara flounced into the room and squirmed her way onto the settee between Ben and the chair occupied by her daughter. \u201cSo! What WERE the two of you talking about before I so rudely interrupted?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNothing, Mama . . . really,\u201d Rachael\u2019s voice trailed way to silence.<\/p>\n \u201cWe were just talking about some of the things Rachael and Stacy talked about last night, that\u2019s all,\u201d Ben put in quickly.<\/p>\n \u201cHumph!\u201d Clara pouted. \u201cIsn\u2019t THAT a fine how-do-you-do! You\u2019ll tell MISTER CARTWRIGHT what you and Stacy were talking about, but you won\u2019t tell your own mother!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, I already told you . . . what Stacy and I talked of wouldn\u2019t interest you in the slightest,\u201d Rachael said defensively.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, you and Stacy HAVE always enjoyed riding, I suppose,\u201d Clara said in an airy, dismissive tone. \u201cBut, Darling, the NEXT time you visit the Cartwrights, you simply MUST take your riding costume with you. It\u2019s in the attic, packed in one of the cedar chests. I\u2019ll ask Marjorie to get one of the maids fetch it down and air it out, so you\u2019ll have it, Darling. Anyhooo . . . to the more practical matters in hand, Rachael Darling, I\u2019ve picked out several dress patterns and materials, and Mrs. Darnier will be out tomorrow to take measurements, and\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara . . . Rachael, if there\u2019s nothing else . . . . ?!\u201d Ben looked over at the latter meaningfully.<\/p>\n Rachael mournfully shook her head.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, if you\u2019d like to come out to the Ponderosa tomorrow, I, ummm think Stacy\u2019s anxious to show you the things she was showing to her brothers this morning, and I KNOW Joe\u2019s eagerly looking forward to that rematch,\u201d Ben said rising.<\/p>\n \u201cRematch?\u201d Clara echoed, looking from Ben to her daughter, and back again.<\/p>\n \u201cCheckers, Mama,\u201d Rachael explained. \u201cAfter winning something like three games out of three, we were setting up for a fourth when we suddenly realized it was nine o\u2019clock.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d Clara murmured softly, dubious and uncertain.<\/p>\n Rachael rose, with the intention of seeing Ben to the door. \u201cMister Cartwright, your invitation to come back and visit sounds wonderful, and I\u2019M just as eager for a rematch myself. I\u2019d love to\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps AFTER the soiree next Friday night, Darling,\u201d Clara said immediately. \u201cBefore that is just absolutely OUT of the question.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, I don\u2019t see why . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Clara glanced up sharply, eyes round with a mixture of shock, bewilderment, and anger.<\/p>\n Rachael shuddered, and involuntarily took a step backward. For one brief, horrifying instant, the walls in the drawing room seemed to grow, reaching upward and inching closer. A memory from early childhood flashed before her eyes, vivid and crystal clear, as if it had happened moments, rather than YEARS ago . . . .<\/p>\n She was out watching the family\u2019s gardener, an elderly man she had always referred to as Grandpa Garth, while he cleared the flowerbeds in preparation for the coming spring. He had just finished digging out a circle of especially tenacious weeds. Their roots and foliage had grown into a thick, lush, nearly impenetrable mat. Though Grandpa Garth finally managed to dig out the stubborn weeds, it had proven a mighty struggle, leaving him drenched with sweat and exhausted. What she saw, after the weeds were removed, shocked and frightened her to the very core of her being. It was a daffodil, its growth stunted and body parts of leaf, stem, and petal twisted into something almost beyond recognition. The parts that should have been a lush deep green color were a sickly greenish yellow.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Li\u2019l One,\u201d Grandpa Garth said. \u201cIt\u2019ll right itself now that it can reach the sun and git what it needs from the earth, but ya gotta watch them weeds. Let \u2018em go too long, like what almost happened here, they choke the very life outta the flowers . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Rachael squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden, rising panic within, that threatened to wholly inundate her. She focused all of her thoughts on her breathing. Slowly. In, out. Keep the flow even.<\/p>\n \u201cBen, it was very kind of you to stop in and see Rachael today.\u201d Mama\u2019s voice penetrated the thick veil that had surrounded her thoughts and feelings like the slice of a sharp dagger. \u201cMarjorie, if you would see Mister Cartwright to\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019LL see Mister Cartwright out, Mama!\u201d Rachael\u2019s own voice sounded far away in her own ears, almost as if spoken by someone else.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling, I\u2019ve just asked Marjorie to\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s all right, I\u2019m already up.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara frowned, then shrugged indifferently. \u201cGo ahead, Rachael, but please do, DO hurry! I just can\u2019t wait to show you these dress patterns, and the material. All the very latest thing, Darling. Please, hurry, hurry back.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael and Ben left the drawing room together and crossed the vestibule in silence.<\/p>\n At the front door, Ben turned, and cast a quick glance behind over Rachael\u2019s shoulder. \u201cRachael, if you need me for anything . . . anything at all, please, don\u2019t hesitate to ask,\u201d he said, taking great care to keep his voice low. \u201cYou can send Annabelle if you need to.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright,\u201d Rachael said gratefully.<\/p>\n \u201cI ALSO want you to know if things get unbearable for you here, you\u2019re more than welcome to stay with us at the Ponderosa.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael smiled, seeing the truth not only in Stacy\u2019s promise of friendship, but in the words spoken by Lily Martin a short while ago. \u201cThank you, I\u2019ll certainly keep that in mind.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRAAAAA-CHAEL! DARLING, COME ON! \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI . . . guess I\u2019d better get back to her, Mister Cartwright,\u201d Rachael said ruefully. \u201cThank you again for responding to my request so quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will again, if you need me,\u201d Ben promised.<\/p>\n Rachael reluctantly entered the drawing room a moment later. She found her mother seated on the settee, squirming while arranging and rearranging pattern pictures, swatches of material, and samples of various trims, buttons, and notions spread out over the surface of the coffee table in front of her.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling, whatever is wrong with you?!\u201d Clara pouted. \u201cIt\u2019s simply NOT like you to dawdle so, especially with a brand new dress in the offing.\u201d The pout suddenly evaporated into a bright, sunny smile. \u201cCome see, come see!\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael walked over and sat down next to her mother on the settee.<\/p>\n \u201cAren\u2019t these lovely, Darling?\u201d Clara, her eyes and face shining with excitement, gestured to the five dress patterns she had picked out. \u201cAnd Mrs. Darnier absolutely and positively assures me these are the very latest in fashion, direct from Paris, no less! Pick one for now, Darling, for the soiree. If you like any of the others, we can have them made up later, at our leisure.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, these look more like . . . well, like party dresses,\u201d Rachael remarked casually. \u201cI thought you said this was going to be an intimate soiree, with just a few friends.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt WAS, Darling, I swear it was, but . . . well, you know how these things are! When Marjorie and I started putting together the invitation list, well . . . I started thinking, I couldn\u2019t very well invite Millicent Adams without inviting the Danvers girl.\u201d Clara sighed and grimaced. \u201cThe pair of them have been in each others pockets for quite sometime now, and even though the Danvers girl is wholly beneath our station in life, it would be most impolite to invite Millicent and NOT invite HER, after all.<\/p>\n \u201cI also just went ahead and took the liberty of inviting Jenny Lind\u2019s cousins, Darling. The one\u2019s younger, fourteen or fifteen. They\u2019re visiting the Linds from back east, New York, I think, or was that perhaps Baltimore or Philadelphia? You know how place names escape me, Darling, they always have, and in any case I couldn\u2019t very well invite Jenny, and NOT invite her guests, especially seeing as how they\u2019re all around your age.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, you told me this morning that you didn\u2019t want to invite Stacy because SHE\u2019S too young!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, she IS, Darling.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut, you\u2019re inviting Jenny Lind\u2019s younger cousin, who\u2019s even YOUNGER than Stacy?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s different!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Darling, HONESTLY!\u201d Clara chortled. \u201cJenny Lind\u2019s younger cousin\u2019s from back east, one of those big cities. People there are exposed to so very much more in the way of refinement and culture that . . . well it simply stands to reason Jenny Lind\u2019s younger cousin\u2019s BOUND to be far more mature and sophisticated than the likes of Stacy Cartwright . . . . \u201d Clara sighed and grimaced, \u201cdon\u2019t YOU agree?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Mama, I don\u2019t!\u201d Rachael said sullenly.<\/p>\n \u201cYou will, Darling, believe me! You WILL . . . after you\u2019ve had the chance to meet and talk with Jenny\u2019s younger cousin!\u201d Clara lightly dismissed her daughter\u2019s words with a careless wave of her hand.<\/p>\n Rachael lapsed into a melancholy silence.<\/p>\n \u201cNow where was I? Oh yes! Kirk Sutcliff will probably bring along that girl HE\u2019S seeing now, even though she\u2019s not much above a saloon girl from what I\u2019ve heard,\u201d Clara happily resumed her rambling. \u201cStill, young men must sow their wild oats, that\u2019s the nature of the beast, Darling, but even so! That means Poor Susan needs an escort! It would be too, too cruel seeing her former beau here with another, and not having another herself . . . don\u2019t YOU think so, Darling?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael averted her eyes to the coffee table, trying desperately to tune out her mother\u2019s endless flow of gossipy chatter.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling?\u201d Clara suddenly noticed Rachael\u2019s lack of enthusiasm.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, how many people h-have you invited next Friday?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTaking into account all OUR social obligations, of course, visiting guests, who\u2019s escorting WHOM these days, who\u2019s speaking to whom . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, how many did you invite?\u201d Rachael wailed.<\/p>\n Clara frowned. \u201cDarling, I simply couldn\u2019t get away with less than fifty people. I just plain and simply couldn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh no!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t I show you the guest list?\u201d Clara suggested brightly. \u201cIf there\u2019s others you\u2019d like to invite, we can! The invitations haven\u2019t gone out just yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, you\u2019ve really got your heart set on this party haven\u2019t you?\u201d Rachael could feel the walls moving again, edging inexorably closer.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling, this party\u2019s not for ME . . . it\u2019s for YOU!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen, can\u2019t we just invite the Cartwrights here for dinner? I had such a wonderful visit with them yesterday . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . which you\u2019ve told me next to nothing ABOUT!\u201d Clara snapped.<\/p>\n Rachael pointedly turned away, training her eyes on her hands, clasped tightly in her lap.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Darling, please . . . don\u2019t get me wrong, the Cartwrights are wonderful, wonderful people,\u201d Clara said in a more conciliatory tone. \u201cYour father and I have been good friends with Ben Cartwright for many, many years now, but . . . well, even YOU must admit they, ummm . . . ARE a little rough around the edges.\u201d<\/p>\n This drew a sharp glare from Rachael.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, they ARE, Darling, that\u2019s the plain and simple truth of it,\u201d Clara declared, emphatic yet very much on the defensive.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know what you mean by a little rough around the edges, Mama,\u201d Rachael said, her anger rising. \u201cBut yesterday, I found them to be very kind, very caring, and very gracious people.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, of COURSE they are, Darling, but\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf money and breeding are all that matter to you, the Cartwrights have plenty on both counts,\u201d Rachael said sardonically. \u201cIt\u2019s common knowledge that they\u2019re quite wealthy, and Mister Cartwright came here from Boston. I remember Papa saying so once, before . . . before I left.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll thank you not to be so vulgar!\u201d Clara rounded on her daughter with a sudden, ferocious rage. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t think you\u2019d be so quick to say they\u2019re such a good family, if you knew the whole truth about Miss Stacy Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFor your information, I DO!\u201d Rachael turned on her mother in stout defense of her new found friends. \u201cBoth Stacy and Mister Cartwright were very forth coming, not only about Stacy, but about her mother, too.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey should\u2019ve kept it quiet! Ben had already legally adopted the poor waif, he should\u2019ve just left things at that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d Rachael protested. Her voice broke as her own escalating anger pushed her to the edge of tears. \u201cLike Mister Cartwright said yesterday, the truth has its way of making itself known. So they decided to tell the truth themselves sooner rather than later instead of having someone else tell the truth for them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought Ben\u2019s attitude was horrendously naive and I\u2019ll have you know I flat out told him so, straight to his face, Rachael. NONE of them even stopped to think of the repercussions! NONE! Not even Ben, which to be honestly frank, surprised me, Darling. Ben\u2019s usually so knowledgeable about human nature! In any case, when it DID become known that Ben and Stacy\u2019s mother never married, well! A lot of people cut the Cartwrights dead socially, Dear.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot their REAL friends, Mama. Mister Cartwright told me yesterday that those who were their real friends before, REMAIN their friends now.\u201d Rachael paused to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse. \u201cAs for the others, well, in the interests of NOT being vulgar, I\u2019ll just say, Stacy expressed it very well.\u201d<\/p>\n Her defense of the Cartwrights having been made, Rachael braced herself, mentally and emotionally for the full brunt of her mother\u2019s wrath. Clara\u2019s fury, however, had dissipated, as abruptly and as quickly as it had initially manifested itself. She smiled at Rachael, and once more turned conciliatory. \u201cPlease, Rachael, I don\u2019t want to fight with you. Tell you what, Darling. We WILL have the Cartwrights here for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mama,\u201d Rachael murmured gratefully.<\/p>\n \u201c . . . sometime AFTER your party next Friday night!\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael groaned.<\/p>\n \u201cDarling, are you alright?\u201d Clara eyed her daughter apprehensively. \u201cWhat did Doctor Martin say when he was here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe said I\u2019m perfectly healthy,\u201d Rachael said. Her valiant labor to keep her voice measured and even produced a dead monotone. \u201cHe wants to see me in his office in a month or so.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara frowned. \u201cWhatever for, Darling?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJust to make sure, Mama. It\u2019s been awhile since I had a proper check up, he just wants to make absolute sure I\u2019m ok, that\u2019s all.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat makes some sense, I suppose, but I\u2019d much, much rather HE come HERE, Darling. That way Marjorie and I can be with you.\u201d<\/p>\n That was the very last thing Rachael wanted. \u201cMama, he can\u2019t give me a complete and thorough check up HERE, and besides . . . Mrs. Martin will be with us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut, Darling, I\u2019m your mother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMama, I AM a big girl now. You don\u2019t need to hold my hand for everything.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara felt as if Rachael had just slapped her hard in the face. \u201cBut, Rachael Darling, I\u2019m your mother. I WANT to be there, to hold your hand.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael closed her eyes and forced herself to turn away from the stricken, horrified look on her mother\u2019s face. \u201cMama, please? I need to do this BY MYSELF.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell!\u201d Clara murmured, stung.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, can I look at these dresses later? I\u2019m feeling kind of tired right now, and I\u2019d like to go to my room, and lie down.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course, Darling. We can look at these tonight, after supper.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara sat on the drawing room settee, unmoving, her eyes riveted to her daughter\u2019s retreating back. Rachael\u2019s odd behavior disturbed and frightened her. She found her daughter conversing easily enough with Ben Cartwright when she had come upon them a few minutes before. But when SHE entered the room, Rachael suddenly had nothing to say. Worse, the prospect of playing checkers, of all things, with Joe Cartwright . . . .<\/p>\n Clara moaned softly, and shook her head in complete and utter bewilderment. Joe was a nice enough boy, and good looking, too, in his own way, but a very far cry from the kind of young man she had envisioned as the proper sort of husband for her daughter.<\/p>\n . . . and that a return visit to the Ponderosa, playing checkers, and who knows? . . . another ride with Joe and Stacy Cartwright to some other remote, God-forsaken place on the Ponderosa would hold more allure than a wonderful party and a brand new dress . . . .<\/p>\n Clara sighed and shook her head once again, feeling hurt, angry, and bewildered.<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps Rachael IS tired as she said,\u201d Clara murmured to herself as she gathered up the patterns, material swatches, buttons, and samples of the laces and trim Madame Darnier had sent along home with her. She smiled suddenly, and her entire face lit up once more with anticipation and excitement. \u201cRachael will be feeling more the thing after supper, I\u2019m sure of it. We\u2019ll have a wonderful time this evening pouring over those beautiful dress patterns and all these lovely dress materials . . . just like before. We will, I just know it! I can\u2019t wait!\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 8<\/p>\n \u201cCarrie?! Carrie! Oh thank goodness, you\u2019re back!\u201d Hannah Adams greeted Carrie Blanchard effusively the instant she set foot inside the Adams\u2019 Virginia City town house the following morning.<\/p>\n \u201cG-good morning, Mrs. Adams, and . . . thank you,\u201d Carrie said, taken aback by her employer\u2019s enthusiastic greeting.<\/p>\n \u201cI had Tina Gayle and Nancy Loomis in while you were out working at the Marlowes for the last three weeks, like you suggested, but . . . . \u201d Hannah exhaled a long, melancholy sigh. \u201cThey just plain don\u2019t know how to clean a house like YOU do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you again, Mrs. Adams, however, I may be working at the Marlowes toward the end of next week. Miss Klein will be letting me know in the next couple of days, or so . . . I hope.\u201d<\/p>\n Hannah\u2019s face fell. \u201cOh dear, dear, dear! I hope you won\u2019t be gone for another three weeks!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, more on the order of three days,\u201d Carrie smiled, and hastened to reassure. \u201cI\u2019ll be helping out with a small party Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s giving in honor of her daughter, Rachael\u2019s, home coming next Friday night.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh yes! Millicent\u2019s been invited,\u201d Hannah exclaimed with glee.<\/p>\n Carrie Blanchard cast a quick, furtive glance over her shoulder. \u201cBefore you accept for your daughter, Mrs. Adams, there\u2019s something you really should know . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Hannah Adams was still seated on the settee in the family living room, unmoving, her light blue eyes fixed on the flames of the wood fire leaping in the fireplace. \u201cWhat could Clara Marlowe POSSIBLY be thinking of?\u201d she wondered aloud, for at least the thousandth time. Though her own husband, Seth, adamantly decried their blatant ostentatiousness, AND it WAS true that Clara Marlowe tended to be snooty and wholly condescending about places and people west of the Appalachians, she had nonetheless ALWAYS been THE model of propriety and decorum. Most of the other ladies of their social position often looked to her as their example. The sound of someone knocking at the door, abruptly drew her from her troubled musings. Hannah automatically rose.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t trouble yourself, Mrs. Adams,\u201d Carrie said, as she passed by the open living room door. \u201cI\u2019LL get it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTh-thank you, Dear.\u201d Hannah sank back down onto the settee. \u201cCarrie?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf the caller is Myra Danvers, would you please show her in?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am, I will.\u201d<\/p>\n A few moments later, Myra Danvers entered the room, her face aglow, and eyes shining with excitement. \u201cHannah, you\u2019ll never guess!\u201d she gushed. \u201cIt arrived by messenger, just this morning!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPruella received an invitation to that homecoming party Clara Marlowe\u2019s giving for her daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n For a moment, Myra was completely taken aback. \u201cWhy, yes, how . . . oh! Of course, Millicent would have received one, too.\u201d<\/p>\n Hannah nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t seem very happy about it,\u201d Myra observed, looking over at her friend, askance.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease, excuse my manners, I shouldn\u2019t have kept you standing for so long, Myra,\u201d Hannah said, rising. She gently took Myra by the arm and led her into the living room. \u201cPlease come in and sit down, I . . . oh dear, I\u2019m so shocked right now, I\u2019m just not thinking straight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh dear!\u201d Myra\u2019s eyes went round with horror. \u201cI hope you haven\u2019t received any bad news.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, at least none concerning MY family.\u201d She gestured for Myra to sit down on the settee. \u201cCan I get you anything? Coffee? Tea, perhaps?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, thank you,\u201d Myra declined. \u201cI came over to talk about the Marlowes\u2019 party. Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s so exacting, I . . . well, I don\u2019t want Pruella to go improperly dressed, not knowing how to comport herself correctly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMyra, I have to tell you straight out, that I intend to send Clara Marlowe my regrets on Millicent\u2019s behalf,\u201d Hannah said firmly.<\/p>\n Myra\u2019s jaw dropped.<\/p>\n \u201cIt seems Clara Marlowe\u2019s suffered an appalling lapse in comportment and decorum. I have it on VERY good authority that Rachael Marlow . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Four days later, Clara Marlowe left home in the company of Marjorie Klein and Babette Dechard, her head housekeeper and personal maid respectively, bound and determined to hostess her planned party for Rachael, come hell or high water. It galled her the way Rachael STILL woke up feeling sick to her stomach every morning, despite Doctor Martin\u2019s supposed pronouncement of good health. Tom had suggested they seek a second opinion on Rachael\u2019s physical health, and that idea, Clara supposed, had merit. If Rachael was still waking up sick in the morning come the Monday following the party, she would call in another physician herself.<\/p>\n That, however, wasn\u2019t the point! The real point was the all the fuss, bother and inconvenience. As it was, Clara, herself, ended up choosing the pattern, material, and trim because for some reason wholly beyond all rational good sense, Rachael just plain and simply couldn\u2019t be bothered. She was sick, she was tired, she was always something that kept her from sitting down and making those crucially important decisions. Clara sighed, longing for the days to return when she and Rachael sat down as they used to, spending long hours pouring over dress patterns, material, giggling and sharing the latest gossip.<\/p>\n \u201cYoo-hoo, Mrs. Marlowe?\u201d<\/p>\n The sound of Myra Danvers\u2019 voice stirred Clara from her melancholy reverie.<\/p>\n \u201cMrs. Marlowe, I want to thank you so very much for the kind invitation you extended to Pruella for the party you\u2019ve planned in Rachael\u2019s honor next Friday night.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, not at all, Mrs. Danvers,\u201d Clara said lightly.<\/p>\n Myra smiled. It was a secretive, smug, cat-that-ate-the cream smile. \u201cI\u2019m afraid we must decline, however. Pruella and I have a previous commitment, that we simply can\u2019t cancel or postpone.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara\u2019s face fell.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Mrs. Marlowe. Perhaps another time?\u201d Myra nodded and moved on.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t understand this,\u201d Clara murmured, as she stared after Myra Danvers\u2019 retreating back in complete and utter astonishment. \u201cShe\u2019s . . . what of how many now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe makes twelve who have declined now,\u201d Marjorie stated matter-of-factly. \u201cIf too many more offer their regrets, you may be back to the intimate soiree after all, Mrs. Marlowe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d Clara pouted resolutely. \u201cI\u2019ll invite others if I must, but I promised Rachael a party, and a party she shall have. Come along, Marjorie . . . Babette.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, is that you? Good morning.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara turned and smiled upon recognizing the voice of Elizabeth Lind, Jenny\u2019s mother. Her personal maid, Clementine, followed deferentially behind, just a little to the right. On her left was a young girl, Clara had not previously met. \u201cGood morning, Elizabeth.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, I\u2019d like to present my niece, Miss Alicia Lewis from New York,\u201d Elizabeth said, favoring the young girl with a smile. \u201cShe and her older sister, Lucille, are visiting. Alicia, this is Mrs. Marlowe, an old and very dear friend of mine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you do, Mrs. Marlowe? I\u2019m very pleased to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine, thank you, Miss Lewis, and I\u2019m also very pleased to meet you,\u201d Clara smiled at the girl, charmed by her outward show of perfect manners. \u201cI hope to see you, with your sister and cousin at our home next Friday night.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Elizabeth?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI, umm . . . sent one of the maids to your house with a message, but seeing as how we, uh . . . we\u2019ve managed to run into each other, well . . . I may as well tell you in person, but . . . Jenny, Lucille, and Alicia won\u2019t be able to accept your invitation on Friday night,\u201d Elizabeth said haltingly. \u201cWe have a previous commitment.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cElizabeth, you of all people MUST know how important this is . . . for me AND for Rachael,\u201d Clara whined. \u201cSurely, whatever it is, you could postpone?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, do you have a few minutes?\u201d Elizabeth asked, with a sudden impulsive resolve. \u201cI need to talk to you about something. Maybe YOU and I could go over to the International Hotel for a cup of tea?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I suppose I could have Marjorie and Babette finish things up.\u201d<\/p>\n Elizabeth turned toward her maid. \u201cClementine, I\u2019d like you and Alicia to finish up HER shopping. Have the shopkeepers put her purchases on my tab. I\u2019ll meet you both in one hour at the post office.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am,\u201d Clementine nodded and ushered Alicia off.<\/p>\n Clara, in turn, instructed Marjorie and Babette to complete her business. \u201cI\u2019ll meet you both back here at Mrs. Darnier\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Rachael?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael looked up from the book lying open on her lap. She reclined on the day bed in her sitting room, recovering from another bout of morning sickness, clad in nightgown and robe. \u201cYes, Annabelle?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Jenkins asked me to tell you that Miss Snodgres is here, waiting downstairs in the drawing room,\u201d Annabelle said haltingly. \u201cShe\u2019s been here . . . this makes the fourth time since you\u2019ve come home, Miss. Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s had Mister Jenkins tell her the other times that you were out or indisposed, but today . . . Mister Jenkins says today, she\u2019s most insistent.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs Miss Snodgres alone?\u201d Rachael asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen go down, and tell Jenkins I said for you to show her up . . . HERE to my sitting room,\u201d Rachael said with a touch of annoyance.<\/p>\n \u201cBut, Miss, you mother instructed\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t CARE what my mother instructed,\u201d Rachael snapped. \u201cMiss Snodgres is MY friend here to visit ME. You WILL tell Jenkins that MY instructions are for you to show her up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cY-yes, Ma\u2019am.\u201d Annabelle, with shoulders hunched, scurried out of the room.<\/p>\n \u201cOf all the silly . . . just because Kate and Desmond\u2014 \u201d Rachael muttered as she angrily flung her book aside and ran to her dresser for a comb.<\/p>\n A few moments later, Annabelle returned with Kate Snodgres following close at her heels. Kate stood roughly the same height as Rachael, though more stolidly built, with honey blonde hair and blue eyes. Her clothing, a simply cut and tailored navy blue suit with a white ruffled blouse, was tasteful though not voguish.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Rachael, I\u2019ve tried and tried to see you . . . . \u201d Kate murmured as they embraced.<\/p>\n \u201cI know, Annabelle just told me,\u201d Rachael said with a touch of wryness. \u201cPlease sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n Kate took the chair next to the daybed in Rachael\u2019s sitting room. \u201cRachael, someone\u2019s been spreading the most dreadful rumors about you,\u201d she anxiously came to the point. \u201cI had to come and warn you.\u201d<\/p>\n A cold, hard knot began to form in the pit of Rachael\u2019s stomach. \u201cWhat is it, Kate?\u201d she asked woodenly, fearing she already knew the answer.<\/p>\n \u201cI overheard two of our upstairs maids talking this morning, Rachael. They were saying that you\u2019re\u2014 \u201d Kate\u2019s pale face flushed a deep crimson. \u201cThey said you were in the family way,\u201d she finished quickly, averting her eyes to the floor.<\/p>\n Rachael, much to Kate\u2019s surprise, burst into tears.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cKate, it\u2019s true,\u201d Rachael sobbed. She haltingly told Kate of her marriage to Aiak Enanamuks, and how much she still loved him.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Rachael . . . I . . . I\u2019m so sorry,\u201d Kate murmured with genuine sympathy, as she placed her arms around her shoulders. \u201cIf there\u2019s ANYTHING I can do . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere is,\u201d Rachael said, as she dried her tears on the edge of her robe. \u201cDid you come in your buggy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cKate, I haven\u2019t told Mama yet,\u201d Rachael said quickly. \u201cI\u2019ve been afraid to because I . . . well, I just . . . don\u2019t know WHAT she\u2019s going to do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand,\u201d Kate said sympathetically. \u201cWhat can I do?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan you wait for me to get dressed, then drive me out to the Ponderosa?\u201d<\/p>\n Kate looked at her askance.<\/p>\n \u201cBen Cartwright has been a friend of our family for a long time,\u201d Rachael explained. \u201cI\u2019ve already told HIM everything I just told you. He told me to come to the Ponderosa if I needed to, and . . . I think I need to, if only to just talk to him, maybe between the two of us figure out HOW I\u2019m going to tell Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFigure out how you\u2019re going to tell Mama WHAT?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael and Kate looked up, and saw Clara Marlowe standing framed in the open door, her posture ramrod straight, and arms folded tight across her chest. Her face was pale, and her eyelids red and swollen.<\/p>\n Clara turned and glared at Kate with murderous intensity. \u201cKATE SNODGRES, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!\u201d she screamed. \u201cWHAT, WHAT I ASK YOU, DO I HAVE TO DO TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT YOU ARE NOT WELCOME IN THIS HOUSE NOT NOW, NOT EVER AGAIN?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cK-Kate . . . m-maybe you better g-go and . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Kate nodded, adroitly picking up Rachael\u2019s unspoken message. \u201cI will.\u201d Marjorie Klein immediately appeared in the doorway, behind the enraged Clara. \u201cYes, Mrs. Marlowe?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSee that bag and baggage OUT of my house right now this very instant!\u201d Clara ordered, thrusting her arm and pointing finger square at Kate.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ma\u2019am.\u201d Marjorie looked up at Kate with a cold, jaundiced eye. \u201cMiss Snodgres, if you\u2019ll come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n Kate hesitated, unwilling to leave Rachael alone with the angry shrieking demon that seemed to have possessed Mrs. Marlowe\u2019s body.<\/p>\n \u201cGo ahead,\u201d Rachael urged.<\/p>\n Kate nodded, and reluctantly followed Marjorie.<\/p>\n \u201cI have never . . . NEVER . . . in all my life EVER . . . been so HUMILIATED!\u201d Clara sobbed, turning the full force of her wrath on her daughter. \u201cEveryone! EVERYONE, Rachael! Everyone in Virginia City . . . the area surrounding . . . probably everyone in the entire State of Nevada knows about your delicate condition! Everyone, except ME! ME! YOUR OWN MOTHER!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cM-Mama, please . . . . \u201d Rachael involuntarily took a step backward, instinctively raising her arms as if to protect herself from physical blows.<\/p>\n \u201cYou wanton . . . immoral . . . . \u201d Clara growled as she moved into the room. \u201cYou\u2019re nothing but a common WHORE!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI was married, Mama.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMARRIED?!\u201d Clara shrieked. She balled her fist and struck Rachael hard across the face, with enough force to knock her daughter off her feet. \u201cMarriage, Rachael, is a CHRISTIAN sacrament, that can ONLY take place in a CHURCH . . . WITH a minister. Period! Those . . . those damn\u2019 heathen savages who kept you prisoner know NOTHING about the sanctity of Christian marriage! NOTHING! How COULD they? How could they POSSIBLY?! They\u2019re no better than ANIMALS! DO YOU HEAR ME, RACHAEL? ANIMALS!!\u201d<\/p>\n Clara, her face contorted with murderous rage, loomed menacingly above her daughter\u2019s head. Rachael tried desperately to scuttle out from under her mother, to no avail. For every foot she moved, Clara seemed to move three. Within less than a minute, her back bumped up against a corner of the room.<\/p>\n \u201cMama, please?\u201d Rachael whimpered fearfully, as she drew her legs up protectively toward her abdomen. \u201cPlease listen to me!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo NOW you want to talk!\u201d Clara raged. \u201cAll those times, I asked you . . . I BEGGED you to talk to me . . . to tell me what was happening . . . to tell me what you did. I wanted so badly to hear then, Rachael, to hear everything, but YOU didn\u2019t want to talk, not to ME anyway!\u201d<\/p>\n With the wall so solidly behind her, and her mother raging over top and all around her, Rachael\u2019s eyes darted from one side to the other, desperately seeking for some means of escape.<\/p>\n \u201cYou talked to Stacy, you talked to Ben, you talked to the Martins, you talked to your father . . . you even talked to that Snodgres witch! You talked to everyone, Rachael! Everyone except ME!\u201d Clara ranted, clearly on the edge of hysteria. \u201cDo you know how that makes me FEEL, Rachael? Do you have ANY idea at all?\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael tried valiantly to fight back the swift rising tide of panic within her. \u201cNo! Mama, it wasn\u2019t like that! We were . . . ARE . . . husband and wife.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDID YOU ENJOY IT, RACHAEL?\u201d Clara demanded, thoroughly repulsed.<\/p>\n Terrified and in fear of her own life and that of her unborn child, Rachael silently and fervently prayed for Kate and Ben to hurry. She curled tightly in fetal position, and braced herself for the expected physical violence soon to rain down upon her.<\/p>\n Suddenly, there was silence. Rachael found that even more terrifying than her mother\u2019s hysterical ranting and raving. She slowly, fearfully opened her eyes. Clara stood, her posture ramrod straight, and arms held rigidly at her side. Her face was an impassive mask, with not the slightest trace of the rage, waxing so hot mere seconds before, remaining.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re going away, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael stared up at her mother, dumbfounded.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s for your own good. You\u2019re going someplace where you\u2019ll be properly cared for, until your baby\u2019s born. Then you\u2019ll be moved to a sanitarium.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA . . . a s-sanitarium?!\u201d Rachael echoed, stunned. \u201cBut, I . . . I don\u2019t need a sanitarium.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid you DO, Darling,\u201d Clara said with a touch of sadness. \u201cYour behavior since you\u2019ve come home has been most disturbing to say the least.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael could feel the walls moving, closing in on her rapidly. She stared up at her mother, numb, horrified, the way a doomed mouse stares up at the snake poised, ready to deliver the fatal strike.<\/p>\n \u201cThe suffering you endured, it\u2019s completely unhinged your mind. I see that now. To be honest, I . . . I knew all along you weren\u2019t yourself, that something was dreadfully, desperately wrong, but I wanted to have you back so much, Darling. I wanted more than anything to have you back, to have things back just the way they were, I was selfish. Selfish and blind!\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael, her eyes fixed on her mother\u2019s placid face, slowly shook her head in denial.<\/p>\n \u201cYour father and I love you very, very much, Darling, but we\u2019re just not up to the task of caring for someone so . . . so mentally unhinged. I should never have tried.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat . . . what about my baby?\u201d Rachael could barely manage to utter the words.<\/p>\n \u201cYour father and I will see that it\u2019s placed in a good foundling home, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d Rachael very suddenly and very forcefully found her voice. \u201cNo, Mama, you can\u2019t do this!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s for your own good, Rachael, and I won\u2019t let ANYONE stop us from doing what we need to do now, to help you. Not even Ben Cartwright!\u201d With that, Clara turned heel and walked briskly toward the door. Rachael could only lie there and watch helplessly as her mother stepped out of her room, and resolutely closed the door behind her. The faint sound of a key turning in the lock fell on her ears like the dull thud of a casket lid being closed for the last time.<\/p>\n Possessed by the sudden, desperate vitality of her own rising panic, Rachael leapt to her feet, and bolted across the room toward the door. She turned the doorknob, pounded and shouted for someone to come, free her from the dark abyss in which she found herself. Minutes later, her energy all but spent, she slowly turned toward the window.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n The vigorous, desperate pounding shook the front door of the Cartwright home on its hinges, prompting a string of colorful Chinese invectives from Hop Sing as he ambled in from the kitchen to answer the front door. He threw the door open, with every intention of giving the individual standing without a piece of his mind. The sight of Kate Snodgres\u2019 pale face, her eyes round with fright, strangled the words before he could utter them.<\/p>\n \u201cPlease . . . . \u201d Kate wheezed breathlessly. \u201cMister Cartwright . . . I need to see Mister Cartwright right away!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMissy come in.\u201d Hop Sing gently took her by the arm and drew her inside. \u201cMISTER CARTWRIGHT!\u201d<\/p>\n Ben immediately appeared at the top of the stairs. \u201cWhat is it, Hop Sing?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMissy here. Must speak with Mister Cartwright. Urgent, right now!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright,\u201d Kate half sobbed as she ran across the room to the landing. \u201cI\u2019m Kate Snodgres, a friend of Rachael Marlowe\u2019s. She asked me to come get you. She needs your help! Desperately! I . . . Dear God, I only hope we\u2019re . . . that we\u2019re n-not too late . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Ben, with heart in mouth ran down the stairs. \u201cHop Sing!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Mister Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf Hoss and Joe return from Valhalla before I get back, send them to the Marlowes right away. I\u2019ll probably need them!\u201d Ben looked over, his eyes meeting and holding Kate\u2019s. \u201cLet\u2019s go, Miss Snodgres.\u201d He paused at the door, just long enough to put on his gun belt, and grab his coat scarf and hat. \u201cMiss Snodgres, do you ride?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Kate immediately replied.<\/p>\n \u201cGood. We can make better time on horseback than by buggy.\u201d Ben bolted out through the front door and tore across the yard toward the barn, while buttoning his long, fleece lined jacket. Kate Snodgres trotted at his heels.<\/p>\n \u201cCANDY! BOBBY! KEVIN!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Mister Cartwright?\u201d Candy responded, as he stepped out of the bunkhouse with Kevin Hennessey and Bobby Washington sprinting close behind.<\/p>\n \u201cSaddle my horse,\u201d Ben ordered, \u201cand saddle Guinevere for Miss Snodgres.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Snodgres, do you prefer to ride side saddle or astride?\u201d Bobby asked, turning his attention to the distraught woman standing alongside his employer.<\/p>\n \u201cI can ride faster astride,\u201d Kate replied.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d It was Stacy. She stepped out of the chicken yard, with the empty feed tray in one hand and a basket filled with eggs in the other. \u201cPa, what\u2019s wrong? Where are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going to the Marlowes, Stacy,\u201d Ben replied. \u201cRachael\u2019s in trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa . . . I know I\u2019m on restriction, \u2018n all, but . . . may I go with you? Please?\u201d Stacy begged.<\/p>\n \u201cHave you finished feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n \u201cJust finished,\u201d Stacy replied.<\/p>\n \u201cAlright,\u201d Ben acquiesced. \u201cYou get those eggs in to Hop Sing and get your horse saddled. I have a real strong feeling that Rachael\u2019s gonna need all the real friends she has right now . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 9<\/p>\n Rachael, her face set with grim determination, threw up the sash of the window facing her bed, and stepped out onto the roof. A strange, numbing calm stole over her entire being as she adeptly made her way over the roof, shading the verandah stretching across the back of the house. She moved as Lammieh Towakh Moon taught her, silent and swift as her namesake, the deer. Rachael reached the far end of the roof and climbed down the rose trellis, dropping lightly to her feet on the ground below.<\/p>\n She bolted across the yard toward the barn, aware of the cold, yet impervious to it, despite the woefully inadequate protection her thin nightgown, wrapper, and silk slippers offered. Rachael opened the barn door and stepped inside, pausing momentarily to glare at the three stable boys seated on milking stools, huddled around a small, wood burning stove for warmth. \u201cYOU!\u201d she shouted, thrusting her finger at the tallest. \u201cSADDLE MY HORSE!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cM-Miss Rachael?\u201d he murmured fearfully, shrinking away from his employer\u2019s daughter, standing over him, glowering down at him menacingly, her hair flying in all directions like Medusa\u2019s snakes.<\/p>\n \u201cI SAID . . . SADDLE MY HORSE!\u201d<\/p>\n The three boys stared up at her dumbfounded, unable to move.<\/p>\n \u201cOf all the damned stupid idiots!\u201d she raged. \u201cI\u2019ll do it myself!\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael, possessed of an insane, desperate strength and vitality, led her horse from its stable, slipped on the bridle, blanket, and saddle, as the stable boys watched with a fearful, morbid fascination. She then threw open the large barn door, mounted her horse, urging it to a hard fast gallop.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cHey, Joe . . . that looks like Rachael Marlowe!\u201d Hoss pointed toward the horse and rider crossing the road up ahead, galloping at breakneck speed.<\/p>\n The two of them were returning from Valhalla, a small, but lucrative spread owned, managed, and operated by a woman named Brunhilda Odinsdottir. She and Hoss had come to be very good friends over the past few months. Joe and Stacy, also, often accompanied Hoss on his visits to Valhalla ostensibly as chaperons. More often than not, however, the pair of them ended up keeping company with Olaf Erikson, Brunhilda\u2019s chief cook and bottle washer, in the kitchen, over a big plate full of fresh baked oatmeal raison cookies and a glass of his home made ale, leaving Hoss and Brunhilda to enjoy each other\u2019s company in the relative privacy of her formal parlor.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re right, Big Brother!\u201d Joe said, with an anxious, bewildered frown. \u201cThat IS Rachael Marlowe. I wonder what she\u2019s supposed to be dressed for?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI dunno, Shortshanks,\u201d Hoss said grimly. \u201cBut, she\u2019s gonna end up catchin\u2019 her death if she stays out f\u2019r too long in that get up. Come on.\u201d Without further preamble, he urged Chubb to a fast gallop, then set off across the snow-covered meadow after Rachael.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go, Cooch,\u201d Joe murmured softly as he deftly turned his pinto, then set off behind Hoss and Chubb.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m very sorry, Mister Cartwright, but Mister Marlowe is away, and not expected to return until late this evening . . . VERY late this evening,\u201d Jenkins said in a firm, succinct, and faintly condescending tone of voice that set Ben\u2019s teeth on edge. He made a point of ignoring Stacy and Kate, who stood on the doorstep with Mister Cartwright, flanking him on either side.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Jenkins, I am NOT here to see Mister Marlowe,\u201d Ben returned stiffly. \u201cI\u2019m here to see Miss Rachael Marlowe, at HER request, I might add.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAgain, Sir, I am terribly, terribly sorry,\u201d Jenkins responded without missing a beat. \u201cBut Miss Marlowe is quite indisposed and is NOT receiving visitors.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIndisposed, my a—!\u201d Stacy exclaimed, her face darkening with rage. Her words came to an abrupt end upon catching sight of the withering glare on her father\u2019s face; the one Joe wryly referred to as \u201cThe Look.\u201d<\/p>\n Satisfied that his daughter would, for the moment at least, hold her tongue, and behave herself, Ben returned his attention to Jenkins, still standing framed in the open front door of the Marlowes\u2019 grand and glorious home. \u201cMister Jenkins, my patience is at an end,\u201d he said, endeavoring to keep his voice calm and even. \u201cOne way or another we ARE going to see Miss Marlowe. Now, you can either stand aside and let us in, or I can personally MOVE you aside. It\u2019s entirely up to you.\u201d<\/p>\n Jenkins opened his mouth with every intention of daring Mister Cartwright to follow through on his threat to forcibly move him aside. The ferocious scowl on Ben\u2019s face, however, gave him due cause to reflect and reconsider. His mouth snapped shut, as he grudgingly stepped aside.<\/p>\n Ben bolted into the foyer beyond, with Stacy and Kate Snodgres running close behind him. \u201cRACHAEL?\u201d he bellowed. \u201cRACHAEL, IT\u2019S BEN CARTWRIGHT!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPa, this way!\u201d Stacy called out, as she turned and bolted toward the stairs, leading up to the second floor. \u201cRachael\u2019s room is this way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re right behind you, Young Woman,\u201d Ben replied, as he and Kate turned and followed.<\/p>\n At the top of the staircase, they found Marjorie Klein waiting. She stood stiffly erect, with arms folded defiantly across her chest, and her face set with grim, angry determination.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know what you think you\u2019re doing, Mister Cartwright, but the way out is back the way you came,\u201d Marjorie stated imperiously, punctuating her words with a dramatic thrust of her arm toward the front door at the bottom of the steps.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Klein, Rachael Marlowe asked me to come,\u201d Ben said through clenched teeth.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s indisposed,\u201d Marjorie said primly. \u201cQUITE indisposed like Mister Jenkins just said.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen I\u2019ll tell YOU the same thing I told him, Miss Klein,\u201d Ben said. \u201cMiss Marlowe herself asked me to come. I am NOT leaving until I see her!\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy feinted to her left. When the housekeeper moved to block her, she quickly sidestepped and ran past before the woman could even think of trying to stop her. \u201cPa! Miss Snodgres! This way!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU\u2019RE\u2014 \u201d Marjorie protested, in tones of righteous indignation. Her first thought was to pursue Stacy. To that end, she pivoted and took a single step, opening up a space with plenty of room to allow Kate and Ben egress. The easily slipped past the housekeeper and continued down the long, dimly lit hallway after Stacy.<\/p>\n Marjorie, meanwhile, turned and ran the other way, screaming for Jenkins at the top of her voice.<\/p>\n Stacy led Ben and Kate down the entire length of the corridor before them, turning left at the end. She bolted up the backstairs, taking them two-by-two, up to the third floor, when the family members\u2019 bedrooms were located. She tore down the hall, stopping at a door half way down, on the right. \u201cRACHAEL?\u201d she cried, pounding on the closed door with all her might. RACHAEL, IT\u2019S ME! STACY! PA AND MISS SNODGRES ARE WITH ME, TOO!\u201d<\/p>\n There was no answer.<\/p>\n \u201cRACHAEL! PLEASE OPEN UP! IT\u2019S OK . . . PA, MISS SNODGRES, \u2018N ME ARE HERE TO HELP YOU!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, let me,\u201d Ben said softly as he moved in along side his daughter. Kate and Stacy exchanged worried glances, while Ben\u2019s fingers closed around the glass doorknob. \u201cIt\u2019s locked!\u201d he muttered through clenched teeth, after trying several times to turn it.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, it is, Ben, and it\u2019s going to stay locked!\u201d<\/p>\n Ben, Stacy, and Kate turned and found Clara standing a few feet away, her calm placid tone at frightening odds against the rigid set of her jaw, and her eyes wide, and staring intensely.<\/p>\n \u201cClara, what\u2019s the meaning of this?\u201d Ben demanded, as he instinctively moved himself between Stacy and Kate on one side, and Clara Marlowe on the other. A dark, angry scowl knotted and deepened the lines of his brow.<\/p>\n \u201cBen, you and Stacy were told that Rachael is indisposed,\u201d Clara said. \u201cAs for YOU, Miss Snodgres, I thought I made it abundantly clear to that your presence in this house is NOT welcome.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat have you done with Rachael?\u201d Kate demanded.<\/p>\n \u201cMy daughter\u2019s welfare is none of your business.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, Rachael sent for me,\u201d Ben said, taking great care not to allow his own growing anger to get the better of him. \u201cI\u2019m not going to leave here until I see her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBen, you\u2019ve been very kind to my daughter, and I appreciate it far more than I can say,\u201d Clara said. \u201cI don\u2019t how what Rachael may have told you, but judging from the look on your face, it must have been pretty horrible. But, the truth of the matter is, it\u2019s all a pack of dreadful lies told you by a young lady who\u2019s completely lost her mind.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, I don\u2019t know what you\u2019re trying to pull . . . . \u201d Ben growled.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not trying to pull anything, Ben. I\u2019m just plain and simply facing the truth, painful though it may be.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and what truth is that?\u201d Ben demanded.<\/p>\n \u201cThat Rachael\u2019s ordeal living among those savages in Oregon has completely unhinged her mind.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben, Stacy, and Kate stared at Clara, stunned.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s why we\u2019re taking Rachael away.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYOU\u2019RE the one who\u2019s lying, Mrs. Marlowe,\u201d Stacy said, her entire body trembling now with rage and fear for Rachael\u2019s well being. \u201cThere\u2019s NOTHING wrong with Rachael! Nothing at all . . . and YOU bloody damn well know it!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cReally, Ben!\u201d Clara exclaimed, with righteous indignation. \u201cIt\u2019s bad enough you allow that child to run around looking like a . . . a . . . like one of your field hands. But this . . . this is simply outside of enough!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat doesn\u2019t change the fact that she\u2019s right, Clara,\u201d Ben countered, as he placed a restraining hand firmly down upon his daughter\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThere is absolutely nothing wrong with Rachael . . . and YOU know it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re wrong, Ben,\u201d Clara said, her voice filled with sadness. \u201cThere IS something wrong with Rachael . . . terribly, terribly wrong. That\u2019s why she\u2019s going away. Tom and I are going take her someplace where she\u2019ll be properly looked after, and cared for.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and the baby?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n \u201cThe baby will have to go to a foundling home, of course. Heaven knows Rachael\u2019s not fit to care for it properly, and Tom and I . . . . \u201d She shrugged with an air of supreme indifference. \u201cWell, at our age, we just plain and simply DON\u2019T have the wherewithal to cope with the demands of caring for and raising another child. Far better for everyone concerned that it go up for adoption, or at the very least it be placed with people who are equipped to take care of it, raise it properly.\u201d<\/p>\n The image of Lucinda McGuinness, appearing as she did in the photograph, slammed hard into Ben\u2019s thoughts, her lifeless body hanging from the rafters in her bedroom. Next, he saw Stacy, as the young woman she had become, galloping across country on Blaze Face, laughing, her hair flying free in the breeze generated by the forward motion of her horse. Rachael Marlowe stood at the crossroads, the proverbial fork on the road between those two possibilities. With that realization, the iron clad will Ben had exerted to keep his temper in check, finally shattered.<\/p>\n \u201cGo ahead, Clara!\u201d Ben rounded on her furiously, his voice filled with scathing contempt. \u201cGo ahead! Get rid of \u2018em! Lock your daughter . . . your only child . . . away for the rest of her natural life in a sanitarium somewhere then place her baby . . . your grandchild . . . the ONLY grandchild you and Tom will ever have, like as not . . . in a foundling home. That\u2019ll make it all the easier for you to forget all about them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow DARE you, Ben? HOW DARE YOU?!\u201d Clara angrily stamped her foot. \u201cDo you honestly think this is EASY for Tom and me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Clara, I think its VERY easy for Tom and you,\u201d Ben returned in an ice-cold tone that sent a shiver running down the length of Kate\u2019s spine, and raised the fine hairs on the back of Stacy\u2019s neck. \u201cIn fact, it\u2019s only TOO easy for Tom and you! You don\u2019t give a damn about Rachael, do you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI LOVE RACHAEL!\u201d Clara screamed, with tears running down her face. \u201cI DO! I LOVE HER WITH ALL MY HEART! I DON\u2019T WANT TO DO THIS . . . I HAVE NO CHOICE! CAN\u2019T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?! I HAVE NO CHOICE IN THE MATTER! NONE!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I don\u2019t suppose you do,\u201d Ben said, his voice filled with bitterness and rancor. \u201cNot if you want to keep your lives and your so called reputation neat, clean, and tidy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s enough, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Tom! Darling, Darling, thank God!\u201d Clara sobbed and she turned and ran to the safety of her husband\u2019s arms, now opening to receive her.<\/p>\n \u201cBen, you, your daughter, and Miss Snodgres will do as my wife has asked immediately,\u201d Tom Marlowe said as he took Clara into his arms and held her close.<\/p>\n \u201cTom, I\u2019m gonna tell YOU the same thing I told your wife, your housekeeper, and the man who answers your door. Rachael herself asked me to come. I\u2019m not going anywhere until I see her,\u201d Ben stubbornly held his ground.<\/p>\n \u201cMister Jenkins AND Miss Klein both have already told me about the three of you pushing your way in here, and badgering poor Clara,\u201d Tom said in a tight, angry voice. \u201cMister Jenkins has gone into town to fetch Sheriff Coffee, at MY request. If you aren\u2019t gone by then, I WILL have all three of you jailed for trespass.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid Mister Jenkins and Miss Klein also tell you about Clara\u2019s plans to have Rachael placed in a sanitarium?\u201d Ben demanded, glaring over at Tom.<\/p>\n The initial anger on Tom\u2019s face gave way to complete and utter shock.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, Clara? Aren\u2019t you going to tell your husband about the arrangements you\u2019ve made to send Rachael away?\u201d Ben\u2019s voice dripped with acid sarcasm.<\/p>\n \u201cTom . . . Darling, I WAS going to tell you, tonight, after supper. Honest and truly, I was!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t understand, Clara? Tell me . . . what?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s all for Rachael\u2019s own good, Darling,\u201d Clara turned to her husband, her tone wheedling, every shred of the raw fury present seconds earlier, gone.<\/p>\n \u201cGo ON, Clara. Tell Tom about the arrangements you\u2019ve made for Rachael to be placed in a sanitarium and her child to be placed in a foundling home,\u201d Ben said in a cold, angry tone.<\/p>\n Tom looked from his wife to Ben, then back to his wife. \u201cClara, what\u2019s Ben talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ll discuss this later, Darling, after supper . . . after we\u2019ve been able to relax from this horrible ordeal we\u2019ve suffered . . . at the hands of . . . of people I thought were our friends, and\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy wait?\u201d Ben demanded. \u201cWhy not discuss it right now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Darling, Darling, Darling,\u201d Clara whined, \u201cyou KNOW how disturbing poor Rachael\u2019s behavior\u2019s been, surely you of all people can see\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTom, Rachael sent for me,\u201d Ben said earnestly. \u201cRACHAEL asked me to come.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMister Cartwright\u2019s telling the truth, Mister Marlowe,\u201d Kate said in a small, quiet, yet very firm voice. \u201cRachael asked me to ride out to the Ponderosa and ask Mister Cartwright to come.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTom, all I ask is to be allowed to see and talk with Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSince it would appear that Rachael herself sent for you . . . your request is not unreasonable,\u201d Tom murmured very softly.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Tom . . . NO! You CAN\u2019T!\u201d Clara protested. \u201cIt\u2019s completely and utterly OUT of the question!\u201d<\/p>\n Tom stepped past his wife and made his way to the fast closed door to Rachael\u2019s room. He knocked discreetly. \u201cRachael? It\u2019s Papa. Mister Cartwright, Stacy, and Miss Snodgres are here to see you.\u201d<\/p>\n No answer.<\/p>\n Tom tried the door. Finding it locked, he looked up, his eyes meeting those of his wife. \u201cClara, may I have the key?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTom, no! Rachael\u2019s much too ill\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, the key.\u201d Tom held out his hand expectantly. \u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Tom! No! This is all been very distressing for me!\u201d Clara whined. \u201cVery distressing indeed! I will not have poor Rachael exposed to all this sordid\u2014 \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara, if you don\u2019t give me the key, I am going to stand aside and let Ben break the door down.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara\u2019s jaw dropped. \u201cTom, no! You wouldn\u2019t!\u201d<\/p>\n Tom stepped aside. \u201cGo ahead, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n Clara exhaled a long sigh of exasperation. She reached into the pocket of her dress, drew out the key and angrily slapped it into Tom\u2019s outstretched hand. \u201cI did everything I could for Rachael, honest and truly!\u201d she stated in a sullen tone of voice. \u201cI tried very HARD to protect her, to be patient with her, to . . . to understand . . . surely . . . surely you can see that!\u201d<\/p>\n Tom slipped the key in the lock and turned it while Ben, Stacy, and Kate looked on anxiously. He eased the door open, and stepped inside, with his unwanted visitors following close at his heels. Clara very slowly, very reluctantly brought up the rear.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s awfully cold in here!\u201d Kate declared, rubbing her arms to generate warmth.<\/p>\n \u201cOh for the—!! Honestly!\u201d Clara groaned, angry and exasperated upon seeing that the only window in the room stood wide open with the sash pushed all the way up, and the curtains thrust aside, allowing the sun to stream in. \u201cIs it any wonder that girl has been so sick ever since she came home?!\u201d she groused, as she strode across the room, moving at a brisk pace. She paused just long enough to shove Kate out of her way with force sufficient to sent the girl toppling to the floor in an ungainly heap.<\/p>\n \u201cClara!\u201d Tom cried, bewildered and astonished, while Stacy ran to help Kate back up to her feet.<\/p>\n \u201cTom? I . . . I don\u2019t think Rachael\u2019s here,\u201d Ben quietly observed, as the ever present sense of foreboding within him suddenly intensified.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be silly, Ben,\u201d Clara angrily admonished him, as she stepped before the window. \u201cShe\u2019s here!\u201d She reached up and seized hold of the sash with both hands. \u201cShe\u2019s hiding somewhere in this room, watching . . . laughing at us behind our . . . b-behind our . . . our . . . . \u201d Her words died away to a stunned, fearful silence.<\/p>\n \u201cClara?\u201d Tom queried, as he and Ben exchanged uneasy glances.<\/p>\n \u201cNo . . . . \u201d Clara moaned, wagging her head slowly back and forth. She stood before the open window, unmoving, with her hands still gripping the sash. \u201cOh no . . . no . . . oh no, no . . . no . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDear God . . . . \u201d Tom murmured, watching his wife through eyes round with terror. At the same time there was an air of fatalistic resignation in the way he spoke and in the way he stood, with shoulders slightly stooped and arms hanging down at his sides. \u201cBen, it\u2019s . . . it\u2019s like the last time. Just like the last time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLast time?!\u201d Ben echoed, with a bewildered frown. \u201cThe last time . . . what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe day we found out the stage on which Rachael was riding had been robbed, and . . . and all the passengers killed,\u201d Tom said mournfully, his eyes glued to his wife. \u201cAll except Rachael, who . . . who was no where to be found.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy, meanwhile, had silently made her way to the window. She eased her way around Clara, taking care not to startle or disturb her any more than she had been already. She stole a quick glance at Clara\u2019s face, then followed the line of her vision.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy\u2019s voice, filled with apprehension and utter bewilderment, drew Ben\u2019s attention from Tom and from his own troubled thoughts. He lifted his head and glanced over at his daughter now standing before the window along side Clara Marlowe.<\/p>\n \u201cPa . . . I . . . think . . . you and Mister Marlowe oughtta come take a look at this . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Ben gave Tom\u2019s shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze before walking over to the window. Tom followed slowly, shuffling across the floor, wringing his hands in complete, and utter despair. Kate Snodgres silently fell in behind Tom.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is it, Stacy?\u201d Ben asked as he moved in behind his daughter.<\/p>\n \u201cLook.\u201d She pointed to the gently sloping, roof that sheltered the wide veranda that ran the entire length of the back of the house.<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s eyes followed the line of Stacy\u2019s extended arm and pointing finger. There, in the snow covering the back verandah roof, were human footprints.<\/p>\n \u201cYou want me to trail \u2018em, Pa?\u201d Stacy asked, as she followed the line of footprints down the length of roof, stretching away from the open window in Rachael\u2019s bedroom, all the way to the end, where they appeared to turn the corner.<\/p>\n \u201cIf she\u2019s indeed gone around the corner . . . as that line of prints seems to suggest . . . at the very end of that roof, there\u2019s a rose trellis,\u201d Tom said, speaking very quietly, his voice a bland monotone. \u201cIt\u2019s not sturdy by any means, but it might hold someone light on her feet . . . able to move quickly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, I know where that rose trellis is,\u201d Kate said. \u201cWould you be able to trail Rachael from there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Stacy replied. \u201cWith all the snow on the ground, trailing her should be very easy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d Kate urged. She, then, lifted her long, heavy skirts, and bolted across the room, beating a straight path toward the door, still standing wide open. Stacy silently followed.<\/p>\n Ben started after Kate and Stacy, moving across the room at a brisk pace. Upon reaching the door, he paused briefly. \u201cTom?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat NOW, Ben?\u201d Tom queried with asperity as he moved across the room in the opposite direction, toward the window, where his wife yet remained.<\/p>\n \u201cYou coming?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Tom replied very quietly, as he reached out and very gently took Clara into his arms. \u201cI have to see to my wife.\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Stacy and Kate, meanwhile, had, in very short order, followed Rachael\u2019s trail from the rose trellis, by which she had climbed down from the roof over the verandah, around to the large stable, set behind the house directly across a small expanse of yard from the kitchen door.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss Snodgres . . . yes! She\u2019s b-been here . . . . \u201d the eldest of the three stable boys replied to Kate\u2019s stern questioning. All three were still visibly shaken from their encounter with Rachael Marlowe less than an hour before.<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and you didn\u2019t stop her?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSp-speaking for myself, Miss, I . . . well . . . . \u201d Two spots of bright scarlet erupted on each cheek, standing out in stark contrast against his pallid complexion. The young man immediately dropped his gaze to his booted feet. \u201cSpeaking for myself, Miss Snodgres,\u201d he said very quickly, in a voice barely audible, \u201cI . . . I w-was afraid she\u2019d . . . that she\u2019d KILL me, if— \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf that isn\u2019t the most ridiculous—!\u201d Kate sputtered, incredulous, angry, and worried sick.<\/p>\n \u201cYOU didn\u2019t see her, Miss,\u201d the youngest of the three boys stoutly declared, as he leapt from his stool by the fire to his feet. \u201cThat look on her face—\u201d He shuddered. \u201cIt wouldda scared off the very devil himself!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt looks like she went THIS way,\u201d Stacy quickly interjected, before Kate could respond to the remarks made by the youngest of the three stable boys. Finding Rachael before she injured herself, whether intentionally or by accident, or froze to death was paramount. There would be ample time and opportunity for calling the three stable boys out in the carpet for what they did . . . or failed to do . . . later.<\/p>\n \u201cYes. Yes, she did, Miss Cartwright,\u201d the eldest boy confirmed, as his gaze followed the line of Stacy\u2019s extended arm and pointing finger toward hoof prints in the snow that lead around the other side toward the front of the house and the roadway beyond.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy?! Miss Snodgress?\u201d<\/p>\n It was Ben. Stacy glanced up sharply upon hearing the sound of his voice. He had just stepped down off the verandah and started across the yard toward the stable. Stacy turned and ran back across the yard, meeting her father half way.<\/p>\n \u201cThe stable boys said Rachael took her horse and headed off that way,\u201d she reported, pointing out the trail and the direction in which it led. \u201cPa . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Stacy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe trail looks pretty fresh,\u201d she said. \u201cIf I go after her now on Blaze Face, maybe . . . just maybe I can get to her before . . . before she— \u201d Stacy abruptly broke off, unable, unwilling to complete that dire thought.<\/p>\n \u201cGo ahead,\u201d Ben readily gave his permission. \u201cMiss Snodgres and I will be right behind you.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded, then turned heel and tore around to the front of the house where their horses remained tethered to the hitching post in the driveway.<\/p>\n \u201cEllis, Miss Marlowe\u2019s in a bad way right now.\u201d Kate, in the meantime, had returned her attention to the eldest of the three stable boys, addressing him in a tone of voice far more kindly than she had a few moments before. \u201cMister Cartwright and I need to borrow the phaeton.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss Snodgres.\u201d Ellis immediately jumped up from his own stool by the wood-burning stove, yanking the middle boy to his feet. \u201cWe\u2019ll have if done for ya in a jiffy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d Ben murmured softly, drawing shy smiles from the two older boys. \u201cI have a job for you, too, Young Man,\u201d he continued, as he turned his attention to the youngest.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Sir?\u201d the boy queried.<\/p>\n \u201cI want you to go around front and get our horses . . . mine and Miss Snodgres\u2019,\u201d Ben said. \u201cYou\u2019ll find them tethered to the post out front.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy, meanwhile, urged Blaze Face to a fast gallop, upon reaching the main road. The trail, left by Rachael Marlowe and her horse, stood out with surprising clarity against the snow, the mud, the hooves and wheel ruts of any number of horses and other vehicles, including a large freight wagon, loaded to full capacity, judging from the depth of the furrows, left behind to mark its passing. At the bend in the road, situated roughly a quarter of a mile from the spot where the entrance to the Marlowes\u2019 extensive property, Rachael\u2019s trail left the road, and continued across a wide meadow toward the mountains.<\/p>\n When she and Blaze Face turned from the road toward the meadow, Stacy saw the tracks of two horses following after Rachael\u2019s. Both sets were fresh . . . very fresh. For one brief, heart-stopping moment, she feared that poor Rachael might facing terrible trouble.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Blaze Face . . . . \u201d With an angry, determined scowl on her face, Stacy again urged her horse to a fast gallop, heedless of the consequences. She caught sight of the two riders a scant few moments later.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Hoss and Joe respectively brought Chubb and Cochise to a complete stop the instant their sharp ears picked up the sounds of a lone horse and rider coming from behind them.<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s comin\u2019 up on us mighty fast, whoever he is,\u201d Hoss grimly observed. His hand automatically dropped down to touch his revolver.<\/p>\n Joe turned Cochise slightly, to get a better look at the horse and rider closing in on them. He frowned. \u201cHey, Hoss . . . that\u2019s no he . . . that\u2019s a SHE . . . and is SHE gonna be in deep trouble if Pa catches her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019re you talkin\u2019 about, Li\u2019l Brother?\u201d Hoss demanded, as he gently turned Chubb. \u201cOh!\u201d he murmured softly, upon recognizing the horse and rider as Blaze Face and Stacy. He left Joe and started back across the meadow, heading on an intercept course with his sister. \u201cHEY, STACY!\u201d he yelled. \u201cWHERE ARE YOU OFF TO IN SUCH AN ALL FIRED HURRY?!\u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Chapter 10<\/p>\n Rachael had no destination in mind when she had set out from her parents\u2019 home, so was mildly surprised when she found herself at the place Joe and Stacy Cartwright had taken her five days ago. Yet, it was fitting. She quickly dismounted and sent her horse on its way with a firm slap to its hindquarters. The peace, the like of which she had never known before, that had come over her once she had made her decision, mushroomed and grew during the long ride from her house to this place, permeating, even possessing her entire being.<\/p>\n Rachael slowly approached the edge, her eyes locked on the far distant horizon. She felt the presence of Lammieh Towakh Moon standing beside her, as real, as palpable as she had been in life. One by one, like stars appearing in the night sky, she began to sense the others who had also died that dreadful day, encircling and surrounding her.<\/p>\n \u201cI should\u2019ve died with you,\u201d she murmured haltingly, in the language of the Chinook.<\/p>\n In her mind and thoughts, she heard a sound swelling, growing, rising in pitch and volume. At first, Rachael thought it was the wind, but very quickly saw that the tree branches were still. The sound continued to rise, forming words. No, not words, a single word. Wik! Chinook for no.<\/p>\n \u201cWik, T\u2019kope Mauitsh.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael heard Lammieh Towakh Moon\u2019s words just as clearly as if she stood her in front of her speaking them.<\/p>\n \u201cT\u2019kope Mauitsh, it\u2019s not your time. You and your little one have much to do yet.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t belong here, Lammieh Towakh Moon . . . Mother! I don\u2019t belong here anymore, not with them. They want to lock me in a cage and take my little one away from me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cT\u2019kope Mauitsh, it\u2019s not your time.\u201d<\/p>\n Wik . . . . the spirits of her adopted family, her tribal community, cried aloud on the winds of the great and powerful storms that churned the waters of ocean and river. She could feel those winds buffeting her from all directions, though not even the slenderest of pine needles stirred, and the sky remained clear, with not even the slightest trace of cloud to obscure or soften its intense, brilliant azure blue.<\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d A voice, a man\u2019s voice cried out with all the grief, the fear, and the anguish, she heard in the spirit winds . . . in the cries of the ghosts of those who died when the cavalry, the men in blue, came. This lone voice came from a time and place very far removed from the precipice where she stood, surrounded by a magnificent visa of trees, mountains, lake, and sky, wholly at peace with the decision she had made.<\/p>\n \u201cOh my God . . . Rachael, NO!\u201d<\/p>\n For but an instant, less than the space between one heartbeat and the next, she had thought that voice crying out to her from the land of the living was Aiak Enanamuks, her beloved, the man she had come to love more than life itself, and her heart leapt for joy.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Rachael . . . please . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n No. That wasn\u2019t Aiak Enanamuks, after all. It was Joe Cartwright. With that revelation, her heart plunged from the soaring heights of joy to the bleak depths of hopeless despair. Rachael slowly, reluctantly turned from the edge and, much to her chagrin and dismay, saw Joe, Hoss, and Stacy ascending the steep path, leading up to the precipice, where she stood at the threshold between the world of matter and of earth, where her body yet lived, and the world of spirit, for which her heart desperately longed. \u201cStay back,\u201d she warned. \u201cStay back, or . . . or else I\u2019ll . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n The three of them froze dead in their tracks.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t do it, Rachael,\u201d Hoss begged. Keeping his eyes glued to her face, he very slowly slid his left foot in her general direction, then brought his right even with the first. \u201cPlease . . . DON\u2019T do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t come any closer, Hoss . . . or so help me— \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlright, Rachael . . . alright . . . . \u201d Hoss said, speaking to her in the same low, gentle tone he used when approaching an animal that was sick or injured, and frightened out of its mind. \u201cI\u2019m gonna stay put right here.\u201d He paused just long enough to close his eyes take a deep, ragged breath. \u201cBut, Rachael?\u201d he continued. \u201cI want ya t\u2019 listen. Please! Can y\u2019 do that?\u201d<\/p>\n There was no response. Without uttering a sound, she simply turned her face again to the magnificence spread out in the valley hundreds of feet below her.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, I . . . I don\u2019t know what\u2019s troublin\u2019 ya, but whatever it is . . . this AIN\u2019T the answer,\u201d Hoss continued, laboring valiantly to keep his voice calm and even.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is for me,\u201d she replied, her voice a dead monotone.<\/p>\n \u201cNo it ain\u2019t,\u201d Hoss warily pressed, with heart in mouth.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss . . . Joe . . . and you, especially, Stacy . . . I know that you . . . and your father . . . WANT to help, but you CAN\u2019T. No one can.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, we C-CAN!\u201d Hoss replied, his voice and his heart breaking upon hearing the deep, hopeless despair in her words and the terrible resignation in her voice. \u201cWe CAN, Rachael! All YOU gotta do is let us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d She took a step closer to the edge of the precipice, towering nearly a thousand feet above rock strewn earth lying directly below, covered with a deep layer of snow and ice. \u201cNo one can help me. No one.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss couldn\u2019t remember a time when he felt more helpless, frightened, and alone. \u201cRachael, you can come back to the Ponderosa . . . right now . . . with Joe, Stacy, \u2018n me, if you\u2019re of a mind.\u201d A terse, urgent note had crept into his voice. \u201cYou\u2019ll be safe there . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I won\u2019t, Hoss. They\u2019ll come for me there.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey . . . who?\u201d Hoss asked.<\/p>\n \u201cMama,\u201d Rachael replied, taking another step closer to the edge. \u201cShe wants to put me in a cage, Hoss. She wants to lock me up in a cage for the rest of my life, so she can take my baby away, and put him in a foundling home.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cB-Baby?!\u201d Hoss echoed, stunned to the very core of his being.<\/p>\n \u201cShe was married, Hoss,\u201d Joe quietly informed his brother, his own voice breaking as her anguished scream again echoed in his ears.<\/p>\n Stacy silently nodded, with tears streaming down her cheeks.<\/p>\n \u201cIs he—?!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe . . . oh Hoss, she doesn\u2019t know,\u201d Stacy sobbed.<\/p>\n \u201cDear God,\u201d Hoss murmured, reeling under the onslaught of a myriad of intense, conflicting emotions.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t let that happen,\u201d Rachael continued. \u201cNo one will adopt my poor baby because his father is Chinook and his mother a white woman . . . and no one will love him. This is the only way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it ain\u2019t, Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, it is, Hoss.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho says so?\u201d Hoss demanded.<\/p>\n \u201cMama,\u201d Rachael replied. \u201cMama told me that I was going to be put in a sanitarium, and my baby in a foundling home, after he\u2019s born . . . and there\u2019s nothing I or anyone else can do to stop her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, you listen t\u2019 me . . . \u2018n you listen good, y\u2019 hear?\u201d Hoss exhorted, with tears flowing freely down his cheeks, his chin and jaw line set with grim resolve. \u201cYou are NOT gonna be locked away in . . . in some sanitarium somewhere . . . and that child o\u2019 yours AIN\u2019T gonna grow up in no orphanage or foundlin\u2019 home! He\u2019s gonna grow up with his mother, who I know for fact loves him \u2018n wants him . . . more, I think, than just about anything in this whole wide world.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael slowly turned away from the precipice, and stared over at Hoss, incredulous, yet with a glimmer of hope. \u201cB-But Mama said— \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t matter none WHAT she said,\u201d Hoss stubbornly maintained, \u201c \u2018cause we\u2019re gonna find a way t\u2019 stop her.\u201d<\/p>\n She knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt whatsoever, she KNEW that he, his brother, and his sister believed in the words he had just spoken. She saw it in their eyes and in their faces, with their mouths, the lines of their jaws and chins set as firm as the high, lofty mountains surrounding them all. She wanted to trust them . . . to believe in their words . . . words that Hoss had just spoken for the three of them. She wanted it so badly, her body ached for the desiring of it, as it had ached for Aiak Enanamuks once upon a time, so very long ago<\/p>\n For a moment, she wavered . . . .<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re going away, Rachael.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n It was the voice of Clara Marlowe, the woman who had given her life, who had brought her into the world. She was her mother once . . . .<\/p>\n But that was so long ago; a whole lifetime ago. Clara Marlowe\u2019s daughter, Rachael had, for all intents and purposes, died on the day the stage in which she traveled was held up by robbers.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re going away, Rachael. It\u2019s for your own good. You\u2019re going someplace where you\u2019ll be properly cared for, until your baby\u2019s born. Then you\u2019ll be moved to a sanitarium.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWhat . . . what about my baby?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYour father and I will see that it\u2019s placed in a good foundling home, Rachael.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s for your own good, Rachael . . . . \u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNO!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and I won\u2019t let ANYONE stop us from doing what we need to do now, to help you. Not even Ben Cartwright!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNo, Mama,\u201d she sobbed, as she slowly, resolutely turned her back on the Cartwright brothers, and the final chance of life, of light, and hope they offered. \u201cNo, Mama . . . I can\u2019t . . . I WON\u2019T . . . let you do this . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Though she still felt the presence of Lammieh Towakh Moon and the others very keenly, their cries and the winds upon which they had been borne from the realms of the dead into the lands of the living, had died away to a silence so thick, so palpable, she felt as if she could actually reach out and touch it. She allowed herself a moment to gaze one last time upon the magnificent vista surrounding her. Then, with a beatific smile on her face, and with arms open wide to accept, to embrace . . . she stepped forward.<\/p>\n With a scream, born of denial, of rage and grief, Stacy leapt in the same moment Rachael stepped off the edge of the cliff. The momentum of gravity\u2019s inevitable downward pull, brought Stacy crashing down hard against rock, snow, and ice, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She fought for breath and to tighten her grip on Rachael, who continued to slip though the loop of her arms toward the valley lying thousands of feet below.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael, t-take my hand, please,\u201d Stacy begged, barely able to find sufficient breath to utter her plea. Her words fell on deaf ears. Rachael hung, suspended between life and death, with her eyes fixed to the distant line of mountains delineating the boundary line between earth and sky. She made no move to save herself. As Rachael\u2019s body slipped through the circle of her arms, Stacy lunged, grasping blindly. Though she managed to get both hands tight around Rachael\u2019s wrist, her movements brought her sliding inexorably toward the edge.<\/p>\n \u201cHang on, Li\u2019l Sister, I gotcha!\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy almost sobbed with relief as she felt the weight of Hoss\u2019 body over her own, holding her fast. \u201cRachael, please . . . give me your other hand. Hoss can pull us both up, please . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n There was no response. Rachael continued to stare straight ahead, giving no sign that she had even heard Stacy speak.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy, can you grab her arm further down?\u201d Joe asked tersely, his own stomach lurching against the sheer drop inches from his feet.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Stacy replied. \u201cIf I let go to do that, she\u2019ll fall. I . . . I\u2019m afraid I didn\u2019t get too good a grip on her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did good enough, Kid,\u201d Joe said, steeling himself. \u201cYou just hold on. I . . . I think I can move out on the cliff, and get under her . . . push her up. You two be ready.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTake your time, Li\u2019l Brother,\u201d Hoss cautioned him.<\/p>\n Joe, his face set with grim determination, sat down and eased his way over the ledge one leg at a time. He could hear Stacy and Hoss trying to coax Rachael to help herself, but their words fell on deaf ears. Rachael stared straight ahead, beyond knowing or caring. Joe froze as panic seized him. He closed his eyes, and forced himself to take slow deep even breaths. As his breathing slowed to its natural rhythms, he slowly opened his eyes and forced his gaze away from the sheer drop to Rachael\u2019s inert form, still dangling from Stacy\u2019s tenuous, uncertain grip.<\/p>\n Joe slowly eased his way down, testing hand and foot holds along the sheer face as he moved, focusing not only his eyes, but his very thoughts on Rachael. \u201cRachael,\u201d he whispered aloud, \u201cRachael. Think only of Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n He whispered the words over and over as a mantra against the terror surrounding him on all sides, waiting like a prowling mountain lion to pounce and seize him once again. \u201cThink of Rachael. Think of Rachael. Think of Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n He slowly eased his way toward Rachael, her face still firmly set toward faraway places lying somewhere beyond the distant line of mountain and sky. He half feared she might be dead already, from exposure. Even though, thankfully, there was no wind, the thin nightgown and wrapper were scant protection against the freezing cold. The brief intrusion of wind into his thoughts raised the all too real specter of falling. \u201cRachael!\u201d he spoke tersely to the panic rising in him again, threatening to inundate him completely. \u201cRachael!\u201d His breath came in painful, ragged gasps.<\/p>\n \u201cThink of Rachael. Think of Rachael!\u201d He squeezed his eyes shut again and forced himself to repeat his mantra.<\/p>\n Another voice, Stacy\u2019s, soft and reassuring joined him, speaking the same mantra, but different words. \u201cYou can do it, Joe. You can do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThink of Rachael,\u201d Joe chanted firmly, resolutely as he drew upon the strength offered through his sister\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n \u201cYou can do it, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThink of Rachael.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou can do it, Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCome on, Li\u2019l Brother.\u201d Hoss\u2019 base drone harmonized with Joe\u2019s spoken melody line and Stacy\u2019s descant.<\/p>\n \u201cThink of Rachael. Think of Rachael.\u201d Buoyed by the surge of strength and energy coming from his brother and sister, Joe was surprised to suddenly find himself on the cliff face along side Rachael. \u201cThink of Rachael, think of Rachael.\u201d Carefully, balancing his feet side by side, Joe wrapped the fingers of his right hand firmly around a thick, exposed piece of tree root.<\/p>\n \u201cUp you go, Rachael,\u201d Joe said, wrapping his left arm around her waist.<\/p>\n \u201cJ-Joe?\u201d<\/p>\n The sound of Rachael\u2019s voice, and her eyes round with horror, boring into his own with such intensity, seemed to sear his brain. His fingers automatically released the root onto which he had been holding. A strange inevitable calm stole over him as his body began to pitch backward over the yawning abyss below.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve got you.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe felt Rachael\u2019s arm firmly around him, her fingers grasping the material of his jacket. Next thing he knew, he and Rachael were up and over the edge of the cliff, back to safety, courtesy of the enormous strength of his biggest brother.<\/p>\n \u201cThank G-God!\u201d Stacy half sobbed, as her arms wrapped tight around Rachael and Joe.<\/p>\n Joe, feeling his own eyes suddenly stinging with tears, wrapped one arm fiercely around Stacy and Rachael and the other around Hoss.<\/p>\n \u201cSo stupid . . . . \u201d Rachael leaned against Stacy, openly sobbing with regret and remorse. \u201cHow . . . h-how could I h-have been so . . . so stupid?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s ok, Rachael,\u201d Stacy sobbed along with Rachael, hugging her closer. \u201cOh, dear God . . . Joe! I almost KILLED you! . . . and Stacy, too!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou didn\u2019t Rachael. You didn\u2019t!\u201d Joe said in a gentle, yet firm tone. \u201cAnd, thank God, you didn\u2019t kill yourself, either!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI-I think the cold\u2019s starting to freeze my brain,\u201d Stacy said, her teeth chattering. \u201cI hear horses.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe frowned. \u201cIf it\u2019s freezing YOURS, Little Sister, it\u2019s freezing mine, too, \u2018cause I hear horses.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHOSS! JOE! STACY!\u201d A familiar sonorous voice bellowed from the bottom of the hill.<\/p>\n \u201cUP HERE, PA!\u201d Joe yelled back, suddenly feeling giddy.<\/p>\n \u201cIS RACHAEL WITH YOU?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYEAH, RACHAEL\u2019S HERE! WE\u2019RE COMIN\u2019 DOWN,\u201d Hoss yelled back.<\/p>\n Ben and Kate quickly bundled Rachael, shivering and weeping, into the buggy between them. The horse that Rachael had ridden out to this place was hitched to the back of Kate\u2019s buggy. Kate whipped off her coat and wrapped it around Rachael, then held her close, as Ben took the reins in hand.<\/p>\n \u201cHoss, you\u2019d better ride into town and fetch Doctor Martin,\u201d Ben said, noting that of his three offspring, Hoss seemed to be the one most together emotionally. \u201cJoe . . . Stacy, you two ride ahead, and let Hop Sing know we\u2019re coming.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure, Pa,\u201d Joe replied.<\/p>\n Stacy nodded.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Paul Martin spotted the members of the Cartwright family seated next to the fireplace. Joe and Hoss occupied the settee, Ben the red chair, with Stacy seated on the coffee table next to him. They looked up sharply and the sound of his footfalls on the stairs. They rose and turned their anxious faces toward the doctor expectantly, Ben first, followed by Stacy, then the boys.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael Marlowe\u2019s a very, VERY lucky young lady, Ben,\u201d Paul said, as he reached the bottom of the stairs, where Ben now stood, waiting. \u201cPhysically, she\u2019s going to be fine. All she needs is to rest, keep warm, and eat.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHer baby?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n \u201cHer baby\u2019s fine, too,\u201d Paul said gravely. \u201cI am very concerned about her mental state, however . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPaul, you have a few minutes?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben took a deep breath, then shared with Paul the details about Rachael\u2019s altercation with Clara, as Kate and Rachael herself had related them during the ride back to the ranch house. He also gave a brief account of his own confrontation with Clara when he and Stacy accompanied Kate Snodgres back to the Marlowes.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael was momentarily blinded by desperation and despair,\u201d Ben said quietly. \u201cANYone would have been, given the circumstances, including you and me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI certainly can\u2019t disagree with you on that, Ben,\u201d the doctor said softly, shaking his head.<\/p>\n \u201cIn any case, Rachael deeply regrets what she tried to do,\u201d Ben earnestly pressed his point. \u201cShe knows that she\u2019s safe now. No one\u2019s going to commit her to an insane asylum or force her to put her child up for adoption. She has some big decisions to make, a lot of things to think through, but I\u2019m reasonably certain she won\u2019t try to kill herself again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s also more than welcome to stay here on the Ponderosa with us, too, Doctor Martin,\u201d Stacy said stoutly. \u201cRight, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAbsolutely right!\u201d Ben agreed, placing his arm around Stacy\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n \u201cStacy \u2018n Pa speak for me, too,\u201d Hoss said.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah! What Hoss said!\u201d Joe added.<\/p>\n \u201cWell with the four of you and that young lady upstairs in her corner, I pity anyone who even thinks of trying to harm Rachael in any way,\u201d Paul said with a tired smile, \u201cand that includes Rachael herself.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCan we go up and see her?\u201d Stacy asked.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s sleeping, Stacy, and that, I think might be what she needs most of all right now,\u201d Paul replied. He turned his attention to Ben. \u201cRachael\u2019s friend . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Snodgres,\u201d Ben supplied the name.<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Snodgres insists on staying with her,\u201d Paul said. \u201cI think her presence will do Rachael some good.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben nodded. \u201cStacy . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould you mind going up and letting Miss Snodgres know she\u2019s welcome to stay the night? We can send one of our hands with word to her family.\u201d<\/p>\n Stacy nodded and started up the stairs.<\/p>\n \u201cIf there\u2019s any problems, don\u2019t hesitate to call me, Ben, though I don\u2019t foresee any. I\u2019ll drop by sometime tomorrow evening and see how she\u2019s doing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you bring Lily with you and stay for supper?\u201d Ben invited as he and the doctor ambled from the bottom of the stairs toward the door.<\/p>\n \u201cSounds good to me, Ben, and I don\u2019t think Lily\u2019ll raise any objections either.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGood!\u201d Ben politely opened the front door, then stood aside. \u201cPaul, I\u2019d like to ask a big favor of you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSure, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWould you mind stopping by the Marlowes on your way back to town?\u201d Ben asked. \u201cI\u2019m sure Tom\u2019s anxious to get word about Rachael, and Clara was in a very bad state when Miss Snodgres and I left.\u201d He fell silent. \u201cI\u2019d go myself, but under the circumstances, I\u2019m probably about as welcome there right now as the plague.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand, Ben,\u201d Paul said gravely. \u201cI\u2019ll be more than happy to stop by.\u201d \u201cSee you tomorrow night, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben nodded, then closed the door behind the doctor with a heavy heart.<\/p>\n \u201cPa?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben turned at the sound of Joe\u2019s voice and found himself staring into the anxious face of both his younger sons.<\/p>\n \u201cYou all right?\u201d Joe asked. \u201cFor a minute there, while you were closing the door, you looked like you had just lost your last friend.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben smiled wistfully. \u201cNot my LAST friend, but certainly one of long standing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did what you had to do, Pa,\u201d Joe said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cI know, Son.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll ain\u2019t lost yet, Pa,\u201d Hoss said as they returned to their places near the fireplace. \u201cMaybe, once he knows Rachael\u2019s gonna be alright, he won\u2019t think quite so badly about ya.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe,\u201d Ben said slowly. \u201cWe\u2019ll see. . . . \u201d<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n A black Victoria, complete with bonnet top, hitched to a magnificent pair of large, well muscled black horses, rounded the corner at the barn of the barn and entered the yard, moving at a stately, decorous pace across a field of mud. Most of the snow had melted, except in the high mountains. The surrounding aspens and cottonwoods were covered with tiny yellow-green leaves, still tightly curled, and across the yard a thin, translucent film of newly sprouted grass overlaid the muddy dark browns of earth. Inside, under the shelter of the rounded bonnet top, Tom Marlowe rode alone. \u201cPlease wait, Carlton,\u201d Tom said, as he alighted from the Victoria. \u201cI won\u2019t be long.\u201d<\/p>\n Carlton nodded, then settled himself more comfortably in the driver\u2019s seat. \u201cTom, please . . . come in!\u201d Ben invited him eagerly. His smile faded. \u201cI\u2019m sorry you missed Rachael. Joe and Stacy took her in town to see Doctor Martin for her monthly check up.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow is she?\u201d Tom asked, as they entered the house together. \u201cHow is she, really?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you stay and see for yourself?\u201d Ben invited. \u201cThey should be back in another hour or so.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom shook his head. \u201cI can\u2019t stay, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben\u2019s smile faded.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t look at me like that!\u201d Tom snapped.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, Tom, I wasn\u2019t aware that I was looking at you in any particular way.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBen, I have a lot to do. I have business to conclude, loose ends to tie up . . . I really can\u2019t stay more than a few minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry to hear that.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom bristled. \u201cWe\u2019re leaving Virginia City in two weeks,\u201d he said in terse, clipped tones, \u201cfor good.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d Ben was completely taken aback.<\/p>\n \u201cClara and I are moving to New York.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben silently noted that Rachael was very conspicuous among her immediate family, by her lack of mention.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael\u2019s of age now, Ben, as YOUR lawyer, Mister Milburn so succinctly spelled it out, three weeks ago,\u201d Tom said with a touch of rancor, as he accurately discerned the unspoken content of his old friend\u2019s thoughts. \u201cIt\u2019s high time she was off on her own.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy New York, Tom?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara\u2019s always wanted to visit there,\u201d Tom explained, much relieved by the sudden change of subject. \u201cShe\u2019s delighted by the prospect of actually living there. I\u2019ve already purchased a house, with a garden so she can take walks . . . get some fresh air.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTom, how IS Clara doing?\u201d Ben asked, with a touch of wariness.<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019s doing very well, Ben. She\u2019s lively, she\u2019s happy, her appetite\u2019s back, she\u2019s her old chatty self . . . she even has Rachael back with her.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben felt like he had just taken a hard sucker punch to the solar plexus.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael\u2019s exactly the way she was, before that trip to Oregon.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTom, I\u2019m so sorry . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be, Ben!\u201d Tom shook his head. \u201cClara\u2019s perfectly happy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe, once you and Clara get yourselves settled, you can get her to someone who can help her,\u201d Ben suggested hopefully. \u201cIn New York, there\u2019ll be a lot of fine physicians to choose from.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I intend to keep Clara at home, engage the best people I can to help look after her, but I\u2019m NOT going to take away her delusions. It would be too cruel.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClara\u2019s living a lie, Tom.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe so, but it brings her a lot of happiness. In fact, I haven\u2019t seen her this happy since . . . well, since we got word that Rachael had been found. I won\u2019t take that away from her, Ben.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI see,\u201d Ben said softly.<\/p>\n A strained silence fell between them.<\/p>\n \u201cI know you feel SORRY for Rachael, and while I\u2019m not asking for your pity or your sympathy, I AM asking that you not think too badly of Clara and me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve got it wrong, Tom. I\u2019ve known Rachael since she was a baby, and I care about her very much,\u201d Ben said. \u201cBut, I don\u2019t feel the least bit sorry for HER. If I feel sorry for ANYONE, it\u2019s you and Clara.\u201d<\/p>\n Tom favored Ben with a bewildered frown. \u201cY-you feel sorry for . . . for Clara and me?! I don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn the five years she lived among the Chinook, Rachael\u2019s grown and matured into a lovely young woman, with an open heart and generous spirit. I feel very privileged for having had the opportunity to get reacquainted with her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour point, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAlright! My point is I feel sorry for you and Clara because neither one of you will ever allow yourselves the chance to know your own daughter or your grandchild,\u201d Ben said with an angry scowl. \u201cYou\u2019re so worried about appearances, about what people may or may not think, so blinded by prejudice and misconception, you\u2019re turning your backs on Rachael and walk away without sparing so much as a second glance. In addition to all that, Clara clings so hard to the past that she\u2019d rather have a daughter formed by her own delusions, who exists nowhere, save within her own mind, than a loving daughter of flesh and blood.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not wholly turning my back on Rachael, Ben,\u201d Tom said stiffly, as he reached past the lapels of his long black overcoat, into the inside pocket. He withdrew a plain white envelope, made thick by its contents, and slapped it into Ben\u2019s hand open hand. \u201cPlease give this to Rachael, Ben. It\u2019s twenty-five thousand dollars, in cash.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll see that she gets it, Tom.\u201d Ben\u2019s tone dripped icicles.<\/p>\n \u201cCLARA\u2019S the one who needs me now.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben nodded mutely.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be sending all of Rachael\u2019s things over within the next day or so,\u201d Tom said. \u201cIf that\u2019s alright with you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c . . . and please, DO give Rachael my regards. Tell her I was here asking after her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll tell Rachael you were here, and Tom . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Ben?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI honestly and sincerely wish both you and Clara well.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Ben,\u201d he replied in a cold, hollow voice. \u201cI\u2019d best be going. I still have to make arrangements for having OUR furniture and other things shipped east, and I need to see my lawyer about selling our house here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlease feel free to come by again, before you leave, to visit with Rachael, and to say goodbye.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll try, but . . . I don\u2019t know, Ben. I need to make arrangements for Clara, too. If I DON\u2019T see you before Clara and I leave . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n Ben knew then and there, that neither he nor Rachael would see Tom before he and Clara left for New York.<\/p>\n \u201c . . . I\u2019ll keep in touch.\u201d<\/p>\n Ben also knew from the look in his eyes, and the halfhearted way in which his promise had been spoken that he would neither see nor hear from Tom Marlowe again. Their long-standing friendship, that stretched over the better part of the last thirty years had simply ceased to be, as if it had never been. He was saddened by the thought.<\/p>\n Ben silently watched as Tom crossed the porch, and climbed into his Victoria, without pause, without looking back. Carlton nudged the horses to a walk, then a trot.<\/p>\n Ben remained on the porch watching, until the Victoria disappeared around the edge of the barn a few moments later.<\/p>\n \u201cGoodbye, Tom,\u201d Ben said quietly.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n Epilogue . . . .<\/p>\n Rachael Marlowe, clad in white flannel nightgown, and a heavy woolen robe, dyed a deep pinkish-rose, stood before the massive, gray stone fireplace, gazing down into the glowing, dark red embers, with the poker loosely clasped in her right hand. The robe hung open, with the untied sash laced through the half dozen loops encircling the waist. For the better part of the last couple of weeks, the robe, if properly closed had become an uncomfortably snug fit across her belly, courtesy of the little one nestled there. At the rate he seemed to be growing lately, it wouldn\u2019t be long before her nightgown, also, became too small. The morning sickness was all but gone, however, something for which she was profoundly grateful; and three days ago, Doctor Martin had given his ok for her to travel.<\/p>\n \u201cI had no idea insomnia was contagious.\u201d<\/p>\n Rachael turned and found Mister Cartwright standing on the middle landing, clad in nightshirt and a robe the color of a deep, full-bodied port wine. \u201cI didn\u2019t either,\u201d she sighed wistfully. \u201cI . . . I hope I didn\u2019t wake you . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot at all,\u201d Ben hastened to assure her. He turned and started moving down the stairs at a slow, yet steady pace. \u201cI ran into Reverend Hildebrandt in town this morning . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe told me to thank you again . . . very much . . . for all the clothing you donated to the ladies\u2019 charity drive,\u201d Ben said, as he stepped down onto the great room floor. \u201cThe ladies were quite impressed by the quality AND the quantity.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey couldn\u2019t help BUT be impressed by the quantity, I suppose,\u201d Rachael quipped with a wry smile. \u201cI hafta admit to being pretty impressed by the quantity myself.\u201d<\/p>\n She remembered again the day Tom Marlowe . . . her father, had brought all of her things out to the Ponderosa. There had to have been half a dozen buckboards, at the very least, all piled high with box after box after endless box, stuffed to the brim with blouses, skirts, dresses, hats, shoes, nightgowns, robes, stockings, and various and sundry undergarments.<\/p>\n Some of the pretty outfits she remembered, among them the deep red riding costume. But many of those outfits she had never seen before, including a white dress with tiny puffed sleeves, tastefully bedecked with lace and tiny seed pears around the collar, with a note attached, penned in the very neat, very precise, and very tiny hand instantly recognizable as belonging to Clara Marlowe. \u201cDarling Rachael,\u201d it read, \u201cFor your society debut. Your Loving Mother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDid Mama actually have clothes made for me all the years I was away?\u201d she wondered silently, not for the first time. The thought saddened her greatly.<\/p>\n \u201cYour mother was most distressed at the thought of you not outfitting yourself properly,\u201d her father said, by way of explanation, while Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing, and Stacy lugged all those boxes from the buckboards into the Cartwrights\u2019 downstairs guestroom. \u201cShe asked me . . . TOLD me, actually, in no uncertain terms . . . . \u201d At this an indulgent smile spread slowly across his face. \u201c . . . that I should make you promise . . . cross your heart and hope to die . . . that you would dress properly while you\u2019re visiting the Cartwrights.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTell Mama I promise,\u201d she said quietly, omitting the \u2018cross your heart and hope to die\u2019 part.<\/p>\n Tom and Clara Marlowe had finally left Virginia City for New York a little over a month ago now, with out a word or even a note to say good-bye. Though not something wholly unexpected, for their daughter . . . their little girl, Rachael . . . had, for all intents and purposes, died the day robbers set upon the stage en route to Portland . . . deep down, it rankled.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m glad all those clothes will be going to people who can use them . . . and maybe appreciate them a little, too,\u201d Rachael said with a wan smile, her thoughts returning to present time and place.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m a little surprised you didn\u2019t keep a few things,\u201d Ben remarked as he settled himself in his favorite chair, the dark red one, next to the fireplace.<\/p>\n \u201cMy needs and my tastes are a lot more simple these days,\u201d she replied, still half mortified by the excess despite Hoss\u2019 cryptic remark about Stacy\u2019s crazy uncle STILL having her beat by a mile. \u201cI . . . hope you don\u2019t mind me giving Stacy my shell collection. With all the traveling Papa did over the years, it\u2019s got to be every bit as extensive as my old wardrobe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot at all,\u201d Ben replied with a smile. \u201cShell collecting can be every bit as educational as it is fun. The four of us have had a wonderful time going to the lending library and doing research on the shells you gave Stacy.\u201d<\/p>\n For a time, Ben and Rachael lapsed into a companionable silence, broken only by the very soft, slow, measured ticking of the grandfather\u2019s clock, set against the wall next to the front door.<\/p>\n \u201cRachael?\u201d Ben queried softly, just after the clock struck the half hour.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Mister Cartwright?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI heard that you got a letter from your grandmother the other day . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I did,\u201d Rachael replied. \u201cGram\u2019s invited me come live with her and Aunt Sarah. Me AND my baby . . . said \u2018it\u2019s been \u2018way too long since I\u2019ve heard the pitter-pattering of tiny feet around the house.\u2019 \u201d<\/p>\n Though Ben had never had occasion to meet Rachael\u2019s maternal grandmother, he found it hard to believe that she and Clara could possibly be actually mother and daughter, based on things he had heard second hand from not only Rachael, but from Clara as well.<\/p>\n \u201cHave you given thought as to what you might like to do, after the baby\u2019s come and you\u2019re back on your feet?\u201d Ben asked.<\/p>\n Rachael took a deep breath, and as she turned to face him, drew herself up to the very fullness of her height with posture straight and shoulders back. \u201cI want to return to the place of the Chinook and look for my husband,\u201d she replied in a tone of voice, firm and resolute. \u201cI have to find out for certain whether Aiak Enanamuks is living or dead, and . . . and if he IS dead, I want to know the story . . . the circumstances that led to his death.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI understand,\u201d Ben said immediately. \u201cI have friends who live near the place of the Chinook. If you\u2019d like, I can write you a letter of introduction.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright. I\u2019d appreciate that very much,\u201d she replied, turning her attention back to the dying flames. \u201cI . . . must confess . . . I half expected that you would try and talk me out of it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d Ben shook his head. \u201cI think I know a little how you feel,\u201d he said remembering again the desperate search for his oldest son when he had fallen into the hands of a mad man named Kane [v], and facing to all-to-real prospect of never knowing. \u201cI wish you all the best.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d Rachael murmured softy. She reached into the midst of the glowing, deep red embers and gently stirred the accumulation of ashes and wood, burned and charred, with the poker still in hand. \u201cI\u2019ve also decided to go to Portland . . . to be with my grandmother and my aunt,\u201d she continued. \u201cI\u2019ll stay with them until them until the baby comes . . . and I\u2019ve sufficiently recovered. After that . . . . \u201d she shrugged and replaced the poker in its place with the other fireplace tools. \u201cIt will depend on what I find out about Aiak Enanamuks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re more than welcome to remain here . . . with us, for as long as you wish,\u201d Ben said. \u201cI want you to know that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do, Mister Cartwright,\u201d she replied with a smile. \u201cIn the time I\u2019ve already been here, not once has anyone ever made me feel that I\u2019ve overstayed my welcome, and I\u2019m grateful . . . so grateful, that simply to say thank you seems woefully inadequate, but it will have to do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re very welcome,\u201d Ben replied, returning her smile.<\/p>\n \u201cMy grandmother . . . my aunt . . . and I . . . we\u2019re all the family we have, now that Mama and Papa have gone east to New York,\u201d she said, her smile fading. \u201cI know it would mean a lot . . . to all of us . . . if they could be with me when my baby\u2019s born.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, it will. I was with my son, Adam, when both of HIS children were born, and looking back . . . I wouldn\u2019t have missed it for the world. Have you decided . . . . ?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow that Doctor Martin has told me that it\u2019s alright for me to travel, there\u2019s no point in putting things off,\u201d Rachael replied. \u201cI found out that Miss Braun will be leaving for Portland next Monday morning on the ten o\u2019clock stage. She\u2019s already invited me to go with her.\u201d<\/p>\n Miss Heidi Braun was a nurse who had worked with Doctor Martin extensively, and daughter of Gretchen Braun, an old friend of the Cartwright family, who ran the restaurant at the International Hotel.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll sit down and write that letter of introduction to my friends first thing when I get up,\u201d Ben promised, \u201cthat way, you\u2019ll have it with you when you\u2019re ready to begin your search for Aiak Enanamuks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Mister Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIn the meantime, Young Lady, I think we\u2019d best g\u2019won up and try to salvage what sleep we can before sun up,\u201d Ben said, rising. \u201cThe next few days are going to be very busy.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The End<\/p>\n April 2003<\/p>\n Revised October 2006<\/p>\n Next Story in the Bloodlines Series:<\/strong><\/p>\n Between Life and Death<\/a> <\/p>\n Notes:<\/p>\n This story was inspired by a book titled Standing in the Light: The Captive Diary of Catharine Carey Logan, which is part of the Dear America young adult book series, written in the format of one keeping a diary or journal, covering different periods in American History. This story takes place roughly a century before the time of Bonanza, on the other side of the continent. It\u2019s about a young girl who, along with her younger brother, was taken captive by the Lenape, a.k.a. the Delaware, Indians.<\/p>\n The culture shock Catharine Logan, the main character, suffers first in learning to live with the Lenape, and again upon returning to her home and family, after having been away for nearly a year caught and held my attention. In the historical overview presented at the end of the story, it was mentioned that those taken captive often felt bewildered and displaced upon their return home. Some, like the character of Snow Owl in the story, Standing in the Light, so identified and bonded with the Indians\u2019 way of life, they did not wish to return.<\/p>\n [i] See Bonanza Episode #94, \u201cThe Crucible,\u201d written by John T. Dugan.<\/p>\n [ii] The Chinook names and words are based on the Chinook Jargon, or The Trade Language of Oregon, which incorporates words from many different languages, including French and English. The Chinook Jargon-English English-Chinook Jargon Dictionary by George Gibbs can be found at the following web address: [iii] As happened in Bonanza episode #56, \u201cThe Dark Gate,\u201d written by Ward Hawkins.<\/p>\n [iv] As happened in Bonanza episode #321, \u201cErin,\u201d written by Sandy Summerhays.<\/p>\n [v] See Bonanza episode #94, The Crucible, written by John T. Dugan.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Reviews from the Old Bonanza Brand Library are on the next page.<\/p>\n *********<\/p>\n All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are property of the author. The author is not in any way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, and makes no money from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Kathleen, I really enjoyed this story…. I think Stacy really came into her own with this part of the series. A mature young woman who has embraced her past and her future. Thank you for writing such an emotional story! —Donna B. August 21, 2009<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Ben and Stacy befriend a young woman returning home after living with the Chinook for four years. <\/p>\n Rating: \u00a0T (49,650 words)<\/p>\n Bloodlines Series, links to all the stories within the series are included.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":28,"featured_media":9488,"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":[7,23,1008],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9474","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"],"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\/07\/White-Doe-01.jpg?fit=298%2C370&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9474","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\/28"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9474"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9474\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/9488"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9474"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9474"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9474"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nThe Lo Mein Affair<\/a>
\nThe Wedding<\/a>
\nSacrificial Lamb<\/a>
\nPoltergeist II<\/a>
\nIndependence Day<\/a>
\nVirginia City Detour<\/a>
\nThe Guardian<\/a>
\nLi’l One<\/a>
\nYoung Cartwrights in Love<\/a>
\nSan Francisco Revisited<\/a>
\nThere But for the Grace of God<\/a>
\nBetween Life and Death<\/a>
\nOrenna<\/a>
\nClarissa Returns<\/a>
\nTrial by Fire<\/a>
\nMark of Kane<\/a><\/p>\n
\n
\nThe heady aroma of roast pork, wafting into the great room from the kitchen, kindled Clara\u2019s appetite. Tonight was the first time in nearly five years now that she actually felt hungry.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWe got a wire this morning from a Major Baldwin, garrison commander at Fort Charlotte.\u201d The words rushed from her mouth in a torrent. \u201cGuess what? They have Rachael!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes! It was a delightful evening!\u201d Clara declared with an emphatic nod of her head. \u201cPlease tell Stacy I missed her company tonight, and that I hope she\u2019s feeling better, soon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n The driver turned and grabbed the step stool from on top of the stagecoach, then jumped from his perch all in the same easy fluid movement. He placed the step stool on the ground, below the entrance to the coach, before opening the door.<\/em><\/p>\n
\n\u201cGood morning, Ben . . . Stacy . . . . \u201d It took a supreme effort of will not to grimace at the Cartwright daughter\u2019s dreadfully appalling mode of dress. The girl had actually accompanied her father here, to pay a morning call, clad in a pair of britches and boots like a common ranch hand. Of course, she had to admit, that Ben, himself, wasn\u2019t what she would call properly dressed for a morning call, either.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cIt\u2019s the LEAST you can do,\u201d Marjorie murmured in a condescending tone as she reached up and took Stacy\u2019s hand.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cHop Sing doesn\u2019t invite just anybody into HIS kitchen. Most of the time, he won\u2019t even let US in.\u201d Ben walked toward the red, leather chair facing the settee. He paused long enough to place Rachael\u2019s medicine bag in her outstretched hands, before sitting down himself.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cWell at least I carry my fat around the stomach, instead o\u2019 between the ears,\u201d Hoss retorted, eliciting a hearty laugh from Stacy.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cHop Sing, this stew is every bit as delicious as the venison stew Lammieh Towakh Moon used to make.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cSo tell me ALL about your visit with the Cartwrights, Darling.\u201d Clara seated herself primly at the edge of the living room settee, and pulled Rachael down beside her. \u201cI want to hear everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nStacy grimaced, but said nothing.<\/p>\n
\nIn the end, it took four big men to finally subdue and drag Silver Moon away . . . .<\/p>\n
\nHer facial features mirrored the blood chilling bland placidness in her voice, as she recounted the details of her arrest and imprisonment for himself and for Hoss. She was manacled to a cot in a hospital storeroom, comprised of four walls, no windows.<\/p>\n
\nShe was seated crossed legged on top of her bed, clad in fresh clean clothes, gazing intently at an assortment of objects spread out in across the drawn up quilt in front of her.<\/p>\n
\nStacy picked up an eagle and placed it in the palm of his hand. It was carved of dark brown stone, generously laced with pyrite that seemed to catch and hold the sun when Hoss moved it into the shaft of sunlight streaming through the window in her room.<\/p>\n
\n\u201c . . . if Pa\u2019s an eagle, Big Brother here\u2019s a buffalo . . . though the animal I have in mind right now\u2019s probably a better description of ol\u2019 Hoss here . . . . \u201d
\nThis prompted a dark glare from Hoss.<\/p>\n
\n\u201c . . . which I hope you\u2019ll show ME later on this evening,\u201d Ben said.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cYes, Ma\u2019am . . . . \u201d<\/p>\n
\nBen, meanwhile, dropped the envelope, containing Rachael\u2019s note, on the credenza next to the front door, before removing his heavy fleece lined jacket from its peg on the wall over the console. He quickly slipped it, his hat and scarf on. Next, he grabbed his gun and holster, followed by his gloves.<\/p>\n
\n. . . a few of the elders, all very old men . . . every last one of us unarmed, Mister Cartwright. They rode in and murdered everyone they could lay hold of. The only reason I was spared is because I\u2019m a white woman.<\/p>\n
\nHannah Adams felt heartily sorry for poor Rachael. Spending the last five years living like a savage must have been a terrible ordeal for one so gently born and raised. But to come home with child . . . Hannah shuddered delicately, trying to imagine the absolute horror that girl must have endured. Even so, Carrie Blanchard was absolutely right when she said that Mrs. Marlowe should be making plans to send the girl away, at least until the baby was born and could be adopted. THAT would be in Rachael\u2019s best interests, not throwing a big party and inviting half the population of Virginia City.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cMARJORIE!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cHow many, Rachael? Five? Ten? The whole tribe?!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cCome on, we . . . we gotta git Rachael outta th-this cold,\u201d Hoss said, his voice none too steady either.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cThanks, Paul.\u201d<\/p>\n
\nCarlton eased the horses to a full stop in front of the house.<\/p>\n
\nThe front door opened as Tom stepped up onto the porch, and there, standing framed in the open portal stood Ben, smiling, yet surprised to see him.<\/p>\n
\nOrenna<\/a>
\nClarissa Returns<\/a>
\nTrial by Fire<\/a>
\nMark of Kane<\/a><\/p>\n
\nhttp:\/\/chinookjargon.home.attbi.com\/gibbs.htm<\/p>\n