Gossamer
Dreams
(Part one)
By
Debbie B
The
blood oozed slowly from the gapping hole in his right shoulder as Joe slumped
forward in the saddle. He could feel his
strength dwindling away and knew that if he didn’t find help soon, he would
surely die. He pulled back on the reins,
bringing Cochise to a standstill.
Carefully, Joe opened his blood stained jacket and shirt that covered
the wound and glanced down at his injury.
As he pried away the makeshift bandage that he had stuffed into the
hole, he winced as the pain shot through his fevered body.
“Ah…”
moaned Joe softly as he struggled to replace the cloth with another that he
pulled from his saddlebags. The blood
caked bandage dropped to the ground unnoticed at Cochise’s hooves. Joe’s lips were pressed tightly together and
had turned white; his forehead was coated in a thin sheen of perspiration and
his hand trembled as he placed the clean rag against the opened wound and
pressed tightly in hopes of squelching the continued seeping of blood.
“AH! GOD!” he screamed aloud while adding pressure
to the place where his life’s blood dripped slowly down his chest. His head felt light and for a moment Joe
thought he might faint. He took several
deep breaths and trying to control his breathing, let them out slowly.
When
the wooziness passed, he shivered slightly and pulled first his shirt and then
his jacket back over the bandage and gently nudged his mount onward. For another mile or two, Cochise trotted
along with Joe swaying from side to side in the saddle, gripping tightly with
only one hand, to the saddle horn. He
had earlier lost his hold on the reins that were now dangling down on either
side as Cochise ambled along at his own pace.
The
pinto stopped suddenly as his rider’s body weight shifted to one side and then
slipped quickly to the ground. The
startled horse whinnied and stepped aside to avoid stepping on his fallen
rider. Joe hit the ground with a thud,
groaning pitifully as his body coiled into a tight knot from the pain that
generated to all parts of his body. With
one hand, he tried to push himself up, but the nauseous feeling had
returned. His head began to spin and
weak from loss of blood, Joe cried out one last time before being claimed by
the darkened world of obscurity that had shadowed him since the day before,
when he had been shot.
The
woman pulled her team of horses to a stop and hurried to climb down from the
wagon. She swung her dress tail aside
and placed a foot onto the wagon wheel.
“You
children stay in the wagon,” she ordered as she steadied herself enough to
climb down.
Once
she had her feet on the ground, the young woman moved gracefully, toward the
pinto that eyed her nervously. She
slowed her step as she neared the strange horse, speaking in a soft voice as
her hand grasped the animal’s reins.
“Easy
boy,” the woman murmured lowly so as not to spook the pinto.
She
rubbed the end of Cochise’s velvety nose and moved along his side, searching for
some clue as to what might have happened to its rider. Suddenly, her fingers touched something
sticky and her reaction was to quickly draw back her hand. She touched her thumb to her other fingers
and stared at the bright red color.
“Blood,”
she whispered to herself as she glanced around, looking in all directions for
the man who must surely by now, considering the amount of blood found on his
horse, was likely dead.
“Come
on fella,” she said to Joe’s horse.
Adrienne led the pinto back to her wagon and tied the reins onto the
back.
“You
two stay right where you are,” she ordered her children.
“What’cha
lookin’ for, Ma?” Petey, her eight year old son inquired.
“The
man this horse belongs to son, now stay right where you are, you too,
Precious,” she smiled at her six-year-old daughter. “Mama won’t be long.”
Adrienne
moved away from the wagon, searching all about as she wandered among the trees
and bushes and behind the rocks along the trail where Joe had been riding. She glanced once up at the sky. The sun was at its highest and its rays beat
down and warmed the earth. A flock of
vultures circled overhead, just a short distance from where she stood gazing up
at them.
“Oh
dear,” she mumbled as she crept along the edge of the rocks. “He’s probably already dead…what ever will I
do if he is?”
Her
dark eyes searched every inch of the rough terrain until they rested on the
still form curled into a tight ball. Her insides quivered in apprehension as
she bent down, carefully turning Joe onto his back. Adrienne gasped loudly at the site of the
wound and the amount of blood that coated the front of the man’s shirt. Quickly she pulled aside his jacket and then
tore the shirt away as well. From the
wound site, she used the tips of her fingers, curling her nose up in disgust as
she removed the blood soaked rag that Joe had used as a bandage.
Adrienne
glanced at Joe’s face and was appalled by the lack of color and quickly pressed
her fingertip to the center of Joe’s throat, searching frantically for a pulse. She closed her eyes, to concentrate and then
smiled to herself when she had found what she had been silently praying for.
“I
don’t know how cowboy, but you’re still alive!” she whispered as she brushed
back the sweat-dampened hair from Joe’s brow.
“Petey,
bring me the canteen, and get the medical supplies from under the seat,”
Adrienne called to her son.
“Yes’um,”
the boy shouted and then hurried to do his mother’s bidding.
“Is
he dead, mama?”
“No,
but he’s only hanging on by a thread, son.”
Adrienne
did what she could to ease the flow of blood that had yet to stop seeping from
the gapping wound and then led her team and wagon as close to Joe’s lifeless
body as she could.
She
was a petite woman, and as she stood over Joe, she wondered, how in the world
would she be able to lift his body into the bed of her wagon. She shuddered to think of the pain that she
would inflict upon the stranger when she tried to lift him.
It
took Adrienne more than half an hour just to get Joe into the back of her
wagon. Petey, her son, held the horses
steady while Adrienne worked at making her patient comfortable. Joe, though not a big man, was dead weight
for the young woman and by the time that she was finally ready to start home,
she was drained physically and emotionally.
Joe had cried out several times while being moved, and each time that he
did, Adrienne suffered along with him.
It was not in her nature to cause suffering of any kind, to another
being, whether man or beast, and with each whimper she found her own eyes thick
with unshed tears.
Another
hour and the trio finally arrived home with their patient. Joe’s brow was covered in sweat, yet his
fevered body shivered and when Adrienne pressed the back of her hand to his
brow, she cringed at the heat that radiated into her hand.
“Petey,
you and Sarah Beth go inside and get the bed ready, he’ll have to stay in your
room…”
“But
Mama, where will I sleep?” the boy asked, wide-eyed.
Adrienne
smiled, “You can have Sarah Beth’s room, her bed is too small for the stranger.
She can sleep in with me, now hurry son, I need to tend to his wound. The man’s hurt real bad.”
“Okay,
Mama, come on Sarah, you can help me.”
Petey took his little sister’s hand and went inside.
Adrienne
climbed back into the wagon bed after helping her daughter down so that she
could go with her brother.
“This
is gonna hurt you Mister, but I gotta do it.”
She grasped Joe from behind and gently pushed him up into a sitting
position. Instantly Joe let out a howl
of pain and pushed back against the kind hands that were attempting to hold
him.
“Easy
Mister,” Adrienne whispered as she forced Joe more up right. Joe continued to cry out as the young woman
inched his body to the end of the wagon and then hopped down. His eyelids parted slightly and he tried to
focus on the person that was speaking to him.
“Come
on, try to stand up, you can lean on me,” she grunted as Joe’s feet touched the
ground and his legs almost gave way beneath him.
“Pa?”
he muttered weakly.
Adrienne,
her arm around Joe’s mid-section and one hand clinging tightly to his left hand
staggered slightly as she held Joe upright.
“Pa?”
“No,
I ain’t ya Pa, now try to walk.”
Adrienne forced Joe into taking a couple of stumbling steps towards the
house. His step faltered after two more
and Adrienne changed positions with her hands and took a few more steps.
“Hurts…”
whined Joe.
“I
know, I know…come on…walk…I can’t do this by myself, darn it,” swore Adrienne,
who was beginning to wonder if the handsome stranger was worth all the effort
it had taken her to get him this far.
“Sorry…don’t
mean…you…no trouble…ma’am,” muttered Joe.
It
was Adrienne’s turn to stop and stare at the man she carried. She hadn’t expected him to have manners as
well as good looks and it was for sure that she hadn’t expected any remorse
from him. She scolded herself for her
thoughtlessness.
“You
ain’t no trouble, Mister…we’re almost there,” she said when she had Joe
standing beside the bed.
Carefully
she eased him around and turned him until she was able to sit him on the side
of the bed. When she let go, Joe flopped
over, crying out once again as the pain consumed his body.
Adrienne
hurried to pull Joe’s boots from his feet and turn his legs around until he was
finally lying in the bed. As quickly as
she could, she set a pan of water to boil on the stove eye and hurried out to
the wagon for the medical supplies that she carried with her wherever she
went. By the time that she returned, Joe
had started to moan, trashing about on the bed.
As
soon as the water was ready, she poured some into a basin and bringing soap and
towels with her to his bedside, she removed the jacket and stripped away the
remainder of Joe’s shirt and began by bathing his feverish body. Joe, in his delirious state of mind, fought
against the hands that so tenderly cared for him. By the time that she had finished with his
bath, Joe was deep into a restless sleep and no longer was a match for
Adrienne’s gentle hands.
Looking
at the opened wound, Adrienne almost gagged.
The flesh had been ripped and torn by the force of the bullet that had
struck the man. With as much care as
possible, Adrienne cleaned the open wound as best she could and then, much to
her displeasure, applied large amounts of alcohol to the reddened areas. Joe screamed in agony as the alcohol cleansed
his flesh.
“I’m
sorry, I’m so sorry,” the young woman cried as she bathed Joe’s face with a
cool rag.
When
Joe settled down, Adrienne returned to her kitchen and put one knife into the
fire that still blazed within her stove.
There was no other way to do it, she would have to probe and dig for the
bullet, for if not removed soon, all her efforts would be in vain. She turned to her children who had sat
quietly at the table, eating their supper.
“Children,”
she said with more assurance than she felt, “I want you to go outside and play
for a little while…”
“But
Mama,” began Petey, “it’s gonna be dark soon and ya know I don’t like the dark,
‘specially when I gotta go outside alone.”
Adrienne
ran her slender fingers through her son’s blond curls and smiled down at
him.
“But
son, you won’t be alone, Sarah Beth will be with you. I won’t be long, Petey, but I have to take
the bullet out of that man’s shoulder, you understand?”
“Yes
ma’am…it’s gonna hurt’em and ya don’t want me and Sarah to hear him crying’, do
ya?” Petey’s wide blue eyes watched his mother’s face.
Adrienne
bit her lip. “That’s right son, its
going to hurt him something fierce.”
Petey
pushed back his chair and walked over to the bed to stare down at Joe. “Is he gonna die, Mama?” he asked in a quite
voice.
When
he turned around, his mother could see the shine of unshed tears in his
eyes. She hurried to her son’s side and
knelt down, placing one hand on the boy’s shoulder. She smiled and cupped his chin with her other
hand.
“Let’s
hope not, Petey. Why don’t you whisper a
little prayer for him when you go outside?” she said in a motherly fashion.
“Don’t
know what good it’ll do. God ain’t
answered my other prayer yet,” Petey said crossly. He turned away from his mother and started to
the door. “Come on Sarah, hurry up.”
“Petey,”
Adrienne stopped her son before he reached the door. “What did you ask God for?” she was curious
to know, for whatever it had been, Petey was not happy with God’s answer.
“I
asked God to bring my Papa home, and he ain’t done it.”
“Oh,
son…your Papa will be home, soon,” Adrienne rushed to assure her little boy.
“No
he ain’t, he’s dead…just like that stranger’s going to be dead. I ain’t prayin’ for him, why should I, I
don’t even know his name!” growled Petey, looking over to where Joe lay. Joe had begun to moan.
Adrienne’s
eyes filled with worry as she followed her son’s gaze. “Petey, I wish you would say a prayer. If not for the man, then for me…so that I
might be able to get the bullet out of his shoulder.” The mother looked pleadingly at her young
son. “Please?”
Petey
took a long deep breath and blew it out.
“Okay Mama, for you, but not for him,” he pointed his finger in Joe’s direction.
Adrienne
drew the boy to her and hugged him, kissing the top of his curly head. “Out with you now…I’ll call for you when you
can come back in…you mind Sarah Beth now and don’t let her play in the watering
trough!”
As
Petey and his sister went through the door, Adrienne lovingly swatted the boy’s
backside. For just a moment, she watched
as her children scurried across the yard to play. The insistent moaning from the far corner of
the room drew her attention away from her children.
Adrienne
quickly grabbed the knife that she had sterilized on the stove, more bandages
and filling her lungs to capacity, moved to Joe’s bedside. Carefully she spread her medical supplies out
on a clean cloth and then turned to Joe.
He had stopped his thrashing about which was a big relief to
Adrienne. Quickly she tore long thins
strips of material and tied Joe’s left wrist to the bedpost. She did the same with each ankle; the right arm,
where the bullet had entered his shoulder, Adrienne left free. The wound and the amount of pain that Joe was
experiencing earlier in that shoulder, indicated to the woman who was about to
perform her first surgery, totally useless to the young man as it were. The light restraints would prevent the man
from moving about on the bed at the wrong time.
Later, after she finished and the man was resting better, she would
remove the ties so that he could be more comfortable.
From
the nightstand where she had placed her needed items, Adrienne picked up the
whiskey bottle, studied its contents for a moment, and then she placed the
bottle to her lips and took a quick drink.
She scrunched up her nose in distaste and as she poured a small amount
over the knife. The swig helped to steady her trembling hands and give her a
sense of strength for what she was about to attempt.
The
young woman glanced once at Joe’s face and then went to work on the bullet
wound. At first her hand trembled as she
began cutting away the infected tissue that hampered her search. Fresh blood appeared immediately and she
quickly dabbed it dry with the clean cloths.
Constantly, Adrienne would look down at Joe’s face, and each time she
saw only slight facial expressions. She
was relieved that Joe had sunk so far into the world of oblivion that he was
feeling very little if any pain that her probing might be causing him.
With
a long sigh of relief, Adrienne at last located the bullet. Gently, she removed the knife and with tongs
from her kitchen, eased them into the wound until her skilled hands touched the
tiny shot from the bullet. As she began
backing out of the bloody hole, Joe moaned loudly and tossed his head from side
to side. A sense of urgency quickened
her fingers and a minute later the round pellet dinged as it was dropped into
the tin basin.
“Ah…ah…”
Joe moaned softly.
Adrienne
hurried to clean the wound, watching how the young man twisted up his face in
pain at her tender ministrations. Once
the wound was cleaned as well as could be the self-proclaimed surgeon sewed up
the opening in Joe’s shoulder and then covered it with bandages. The hardest part was wrapping the lengths of
cloth around the shoulder, and when all was finished, Adrienne wondered to
herself how she had accomplished all that she had in a matter of such a short
time.
She
gathered her tools and took them to the kitchen. As she stood at the window, she glanced out,
checking to see her children playing happily with the new kittens. Adrienne went to the door and called them
inside, smiling at each.
A
quick bath and a quicker snack and her children were rushed off to bed. It would be a long night, as she would stay
by the stranger’s bedside in case he awoke and needed something. The man’s
fever was still high and Adrienne would keep his brow bathed with cool
water…anything she thought, to keep her mind from wondering about her husband
and his whereabouts.
As
Adrienne sat alone in the soft glow of the lamplight, her thoughts nonetheless
ventured to her husband. Josh had been
gone for over a month now, much longer than necessary. He had gone to
“NO!”
The
sudden outburst startled Adrienne from her pondering as she straightened herself
in her chair.
“Don’t
shoot!” Joe cried in his delirium.
His
face was coated with sweat and he’d begun tossing about and pulling on his
restraints. His right arm was carefully wrapped
within the binding that covered his wounded shoulder and would provide no
threat to his thrashing about.
Adrienne
soaked the cloth in cool water and sat on the very edge of the bed. As she wiped away the wetness, she spoke in a
soft soothing tone, hoping to reach into the befuddled mind of her patient.
“Take
it easy, Mister…no one’s going to hurt you…you’re safe here with me,” she
whispered.
As
she continued to care for Joe, she noticed for the first time, the handsome
features that lay beneath the bruises that dotted his face. It was obvious that the man had been in a
fight, and that he had just as obviously gotten the worst end of the
argument. He was handsome, concluded
Adrienne and his appearance only served to rouse questions as to who he was,
where he came from and why had he been shot.
Rising
slowly, Adrienne reached for Joe’s jacket and fingered through the pockets,
hoping to find something that would give her a clue to his identity. Certainly he had family, hadn’t she heard him
calling for his pa and what about a wife…and maybe children? There was nothing in the pockets of his
jacket. Adrienne went through his pants
pockets as well and that search proved to be for naught.
When
she returned to Joe’s bedside and sat down, she studied his face again. He looked like a man of means…not the
everyday type that wandered around seeking handouts from the local
residents. He was clean shaven, his
clothes, what there were left of them, had been store bought and were of good
material. For sure his horse was as
fine, as any she had ever seen, and his gear was of the most expensive
assortment around. Even his holster was
of the most premium leather made…yet she wondered about the missing pistol. Had he lost it while ambling about, or had it
been taken from him, by the man or men who had shot him?
A
new thought struck her and she shuddered, was this handsome stranger wanted for
some horrid crime? Had he murdered a
man, robbed a bank, or stage…had some unknowing female, such as herself, been a
victim of his…had she been stricken by his overpowering good looks and smooth
talking? Adrienne shook her head slowly;
she wouldn’t allow such pessimism to warp her logical thinking. Any man who called out for his father could
not be as bad as her imagination was allowing her to contemplate.
For
the rest of the night, Adrienne stayed by Joe’s side. More than once, he awoke, studied her face
through clouded and tear filled eyes and mumbled something about having been
shot. Adrienne smiled kindly each time,
for such was her nature. She whispered
soft words of comfort that seemed to have a calming affect on him. His hot, sweat drenched body, Adrienne kept
bathed and cooled in spite of the temper that struggled for control. She had removed all his clothing except for
his long johns bottom. Those she allowed
him to keep for she had no such notion of disrobing the man entirely unless
necessity demanded.
By
daylight, her children were up and demanding their breakfast. Sleep had been long in coming for the nurse
turned surgeon, and she had only been able to claim the last two or three hours
before the rising of the sun. But she
smiled in satisfaction when she peeled back the bandages that protected Joe’s
injury and saw where the pinkness of his flesh, that promised infection, had
faded to a lighter color.
She
hurried to fix her children their breakfast, least the stranger wake and demand
her attention. He had been asleep now
for hours and was sure to rouse about soon and most likely he’d be hungry,
Adrienne concluded. As soon as the
children were fed, she sent Petey to the chicken house to gather what eggs he
could find. Those she would use later
when she did her baking. As for the
stranger, he would have to settle for some broth, for she doubted that his
stomach could handle much more than that at the moment.
An
hour later, Adrienne had killed one of her chickens, plucked it clean of its
feathers and had the bird in the stewing pot.
The broth would last for a couple of days and would give the stranger much
needed nourishment for his ailing body.
For herself and her children, Adrienne would use what she could spare of
the broth and make dumplings…a filling meal and one of her children’s
favorites.
“Pa…Pa…help
me!” cried Joe from his corner bedroom.
Adrienne
set her spoon off to the side of the stove and hurried in to check on her
patient. Joe’s brow had beaded once more
with tiny droplets of perspiration.
Quickly, Adrienne dampened a cloth and began wiping away the moisture.
Joe
continued with his moaning. His
restraints had been removed during the night and when Joe, in his confused
state, felt the tender hands that cared for him, he reached out with his good
hand and clasped Adrienne’s within his own.
Adrienne
stilled her movements, unsure as to what the stranger might do. Joe’s eyelids fluttered and then opened. Within the hazel depths, Adrienne could see
the confusion and the pain that flickered.
“Didn’t
want…to…kill…him,” Joe murmured as he tried to focus his eyes on the face that
loomed over him. “No…choice…” he
stammered.
“Shh…don’t
try to talk, save your strength,” soothed Adrienne as she freed her hand from
his and placed Joe’s hand across his chest.
“Hurts…”
“I
know, and I’m sorry…but I have nothing for the pain, other than
whiskey…wouldn’t want…”
Joe
slowly shook his head, “no…hungry…”
“Oh,
now that I can give you. I’ll be right
back, I already have a good chicken broth simmering on the stove.” Adrienne stood to her feet but stopped when
Joe reached out and took her arm.
As
she gazed into his face, the pain that he suffered was written into every fine
line of his features. Her heart broke
for the stranger and she wished that she could do something to alleviate the
suffering he was most certainly having to endure.
She
leaned down, smiling. “What is it?” She
saw Joe swallow and was surprised at the sudden rush of tears that filled his
eyes.
“Thank…you,”
he muttered in a voice that was laden with the agony that he was feeling.
Adrienne
felt her own throat constrict and she smiled, patted his hand and then slipped
quietly into the kitchen. At the stove,
she paused, drawing in a deep breath.
His sudden expression of gratitude had caught her unprepared, for she
had not expected the stranger to be such a gentleman. As Adrienne spooned the broth into a bowl, a
sense of longing filled her senses. Her
thoughts turned suddenly to her own husband and she could not help but pray
that if Josh had met a fate such as this stranger, her prayer would be that he
had found the same kindness as she gave to the man in the other room.
“Just
one more bite,” Adrienne requested of her patient.
Joe
shook his head no and then closed his eyes.
Minutes later he was asleep.
Adrienne set the bowl aside and gently pulled the covers up around Joe’s
shoulders. His brow still showed signs
of beading and Adrienne could tell by the flushed look that Joe wore, that he
was still hot with fever.
She
wished there was a doctor close by, the stranger really did need one, but the
nearest was better than fifty miles away.
Any hopes of getting the man the medical help that he so desperately
needed was totally out of the question.
She couldn’t run the gamble of moving him; the ride in the back of her
wagon would most likely kill him, if the pain didn’t do it before they reached
the physician’s office. And then there
was always the chance that the doctor would be out on a call and might not
return for days. No, she would just have
to do what she could for the man; she was his only hope.
By
afternoon, Joe’s temper had risen even higher and Adrienne feared that the heat
of the
It
wasn’t as if she had never seen a naked man, after all she told herself, she
was a married woman. And, having grown
up in a household full of brothers, she was accustomed to having to care for
the needs of an ailing man. But with
this stranger, it was different, she wished not to embarrass him. She laughed softly to herself, she could
almost convince herself of her own modesty.
“Please…”
groaned the stranger.
Adrienne
who had been out hoeing in what remained of her vegetable garden, and who had
just come inside, hurried to set aside the few vegetables she had picked as she
rushed to Joe’s bedside. She was
surprised to see that he had opened his eyes, and that the cloudiness had begun
to leave. Adrienne smiled and placed her
hand to his forehead.
“You’ve
cooled off a little,” she explained.
“Water…please?”
begged Joe as he moved his body. The
twisted expression on his face showed his pain.
“Here,”
Adrienne said as he helped Joe raise his head.
He was still too weak to hold the glass, so Adrienne held it to his
lips. When he had satisfied his thirst,
she gently lowered his head back down on the pillows.
“Thanks,”
he muttered, watching his nurse as she pulled her chair over to the bed.
Adrienne
smiled. “How do you feel?”
“Hurts…badly,”
he answered honestly. “How’d I…get
here?”
“I
found you, out on the road. You’d been
shot…and you had lost a lot of blood. I
couldn’t just leave you there to die…so I brought you here,” she explained.
“Here?”
“Yes,
I live here, with my children…and my husband, when he’s home.”
“You’re
alone? Where’s…your husband?” Joe winced and clutched his shoulder.
“Josh…my
husband, went to
“Sorry,”
Joe forced a smile. “What’s your name?”
“Adrienne…and
yours? I went through your
pockets…oh…not to be noisy, but I was hoping to find something that would tell
me who you were…I mean who you are…just in case,” she stumbled over her
words. His intense hazel eyes seemed to
be mesmerizing and she found herself falling deeply into their depths.
Joe
laughed softly, bringing her back to her senses. “It’s alright…no need to…apologize. Joe…Joe Cartwright…that’s my name.” Again he tried to move to a more comfortable
position and once more he cried out in pain.
“Please,
Mr. Cartwright, stop thrashing about like a fish out of water!” she scolded
gently.
She
leaned down and fluffed Joe’s pillow, and then sat back in her chair. “Men!” she groaned. “I haven’t found one yet that made a good
patient!” she grumbled and then when she heard the sound of his infamous
giggle, she smiled down at him.
“And
you won’t find one in me either…” he grinned.
“I’m
sorry Mr. Cartwright but…”
“Joe…name’s
Joe…and my friends…call me Little Joe,” he smiled.
“Alright,
Little Joe, I apologize for my rudeness…”
Joe
held up his hand to silence her. “No
need,” he said.
His
eyelids suddenly became heavy as they folded over his eyes. He yawned and when he opened his eyes again,
Adrienne had moved. Joe turned his head
slightly and found the young woman bending down, speaking in a low voice. It was only when she moved that Joe was able
to see the boy and girl to whom she had been speaking. Joe saw the girl look his way, and from his
bed with the door partially opened, he could see the wee child smile at
him. Joe tried to return the gesture,
but he could no longer keep his eyes opened.
Within minutes, he was sleeping.
Adrienne
spent the rest of the afternoon preparing supper for her children, and while
Joe slept, she tended to her washing. By
late afternoon, the house had filled with the aroma of fresh baked bread and
apple pie. The chicken and dumplings
were on the stove stewing and Joe’s broth was beginning to bubble slowly.
“That’s
the last of the dried apples,” she told Petey as she removed the dessert from
the oven and placed it on the window ledge to cool.
“When’s
Papa comin’ home, Mama?” the little boy asked.
Adrienne
saw the sad expression on her son’s face and wished that she could give him a definite
answer, but even she had no idea. Josh
was over a month late in returning as it was.
“Mama?”
“Petey,
I don’t know son…but it should be soon,” she tried to assure the boy.
“What’ll
we do, if’n he don’t get home before it snows?” he asked. “I was down in the root cellar yesterday, and
we’re about out of potatoes and carrots.
All we got bunches of are onions and dried peppers, and only one ham,
Mama,” Petey scrunched up his nose in disgust at the thoughts of the peppers
and onions.
Adrienne’s
eyes ventured to the open window and she stared off into the distance. There was nothing on the horizon but
mountains and trees, no sign of her husband.
She then turned to the stranger that was resting peacefully, another
mouth to feed she thought and then scolded herself. It wasn’t right to blame the man for being
here, she thought, only herself for being so noble as not to leave him for the
buzzards.
“Mama?”
“He’ll
be here son, your father will be here, he’s just been held up…maybe he’s
waiting for a shipment to arrive at the mercantile.”
“But
Mama, Pa said that…”
“Petey
hush!” she scolded. “I know what your pa
said, but things happen sometimes to change our plans.” When she glanced down at her son, she could
see the tears that had swelled in his eyes and instantly she regretted being so
short tempered towards the boy.
“Come
here, Petey,” she said as she gathered him into her arms. “Your Pa will be home just as soon as he
can…you just wait and see,” she smiled at him.
“I’m
sorry Mama…it’s just that I miss him so much.”
The tears rolled over the edge of the boy’s eyes and careened down his
chubby little face.
“I
know you do sweetie, but, so do I…we just have to keep praying…”
“I
will, I promise…guess I’d better get the cow in…” Petey gave his mother a
smile, relieving her fear somewhat.
It
was a long time after the children had gone to bed before Joe woke. His temperature was down slightly and when he
opened his eyes, he could at least focus them better than earlier in the day.
“Well,
sleepy head…I see you’re awake,” Adrienne smiled at Joe. “Do you think you could eat something?”
Joe
nodded his head. “I’ll try,” he said,
his voice sounding weak.
Adrienne
hurried to get Joe some broth and decided to add a few dumplings as well. When she returned, Joe had wiggled himself
upward on the bed and had propped against his pillows. His lips were white, as were the knuckles on
his left hand, which he had folded up into a tight fist.
He
smiled sheepishly at his hostess. “Guess
I should have waited…boy does that hurt.”
“Serves
you right,” she said, but her tone was light.
Joe’s
eyes sought the young woman’s and he smiled.
“Touché!” he smirked and then smiled.
Adrienne
could not help herself, he looked much younger, more like a boy, when he
screwed up his face and in spite of herself, she laughed. Joe’s eyes brightened and he giggled, but
only briefly.
“Are
you going to sit there laughing and let me starve to death?” he said, sobering.
Adrienne’s
eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, of course
not, I’m sorry,” she said.
For
several minutes, neither spoke as Adrienne spooned the broth and the dumplings
into Joe’s mouth. When he dribbled a
speck onto his chin, she offered him the napkin. Joe’s fingers touched her hand and for a
brief moment, each sat still, staring at their hands. Adrienne jerked her hand back as if touched
by fire and lowered her head. Joe
watched the woman’s face and for the first time, noticed how truly lovely the
young mother was.
Her
long brown hair was coiled at the back of her head and tiny, wild sprigs had
gotten free of the pins and dangled about her face. The golden highlights glimmered in the soft
glow and the sudden, odd expression that had come into play on her face when his
hand had touched hers, caused him to tremble slightly, for he had been as much
caught off guard by the sensation as the lovely woman had.
Adrienne
however, was finding it hard to breathe.
She had not been prepared for the unexpected rush of emotions that
surged through her when his hand had touched hers. She glanced up, afraid that he had seen her
blush and had been able to read her thoughts.
Joe
smiled, and handed the rose colored napkin back to her. “Thank you,” he said in a thick voice. Adrienne had seen him swallow and had seen
when Joe had tried to mask his own feelings.
She was startled to find her self attracted to him…she was married…and
she loved her husband deeply…but…but…
“Ma’am?”
Joe called a second time.
“Oh…I’m
sorry,” she muttered.
Joe
smiled as she stood up, “Adrienne, do me a favor…would you please stopping
saying I’m sorry?”
Adrienne,
embarrassed, laughed softly, “Joe, I don’t mean to keep saying it…really…it’s
just a habit…I’m sor…”
“Adrienne!”
“Oh,
goodness…” she turned and rushed from the room, his gentle giggles following
her to her kitchen.
Adrienne
set the bowl in the dishwater and leaned heavily against the table. She was breathing hard and suddenly felt so
foolish. ‘I’m acting like a silly school
girl,’ she thought. She glanced over her
shoulder into the room where Joe lay. He
had turned onto his left side and seeing the slow rise and fall of his
breathing, she determined that he had quickly fallen to sleep. Probably exhausted, she concluded.
When
the dishes were wiped clean, Adrienne stepped out into the night. The sky was clear and the trillions of stars
twinkled brightly over head. She felt a
mellowing of her spirit as she gazed upward and witnessed God’s handiwork. Without warning, her eyes filled with tears
that ran slowly down her face.
“Oh
Josh…please…won’t you hurry home? I miss
you so,” she whispered lowly into the night wind. “I love you so much, my darling, and I do
need you so.”
“Why do we gotta have beans and potatoes again!” stormed Petey. “I’m sick of beans and potatoes…potatoes and
beans!”
“Petey!”
snapped Adrienne, who glanced, toward the room where Joe was still confined to
the bed. “That will be enough…”
“But
Mama…I want meat…and you said that Sarah Beth needed meat too…”
“Shh…I
said stop it, Petey! I’m doing the best
I can with what I have!” Adrienne was
fighting back the tears that came into her deep dark eyes. She was almost out of everything…her children
were hungry…and still Josh had not returned.
“It’s
his fault!” shouted Petey, as he pointed toward the door that hid Joe from the
argument going on in the kitchen. “If’n
ya’d left him out there, then we could have…”
“PETEY!” Adrienne could not believe what was
happening, her little boy was sounding so uncaring toward another human
being. “Go to your room…NOW!”
Petey,
his eyes wide with tears, turned and ran into the other room. Seconds later Adrienne heard the slamming of
the door. She pulled the chair out from
the table and sat down, burying her face in her hands. The soft sounds of her crying tugged at the
heart of the young man standing precariously against the frame of the door.
Joe,
wrapped in his blanket, staggered slightly as he crept slowly toward the
sobbing woman. “Ma’am?” he said softly,
catching Adrienne by surprise.
She
spun her head around and seeing Joe clinging tightly to the back of her chair,
she rose to her feet. Quickly, she
rounded the chair and slipped her arms about Joe’s body to steady him.
“What
in the world are you doing out of bed?” she scolded. “Let’s get you back where you belong!” Gently, Adrienne began ushering Joe back
toward his room.
“No…wait…the
boy,” began Joe.
“Never
you mind the boy…you need to be in bed!” Adrienne said with a groan.
Joe
was leaning heavily against Adrienne’s soft alluring body. He glanced at her, surprised at himself that
in his present condition, he found himself so attracted to her. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her
hair. It smelt like spring rain, and it
was soft when he allowed himself the freedom to touch it with his fingers. He heard her sudden intake of wind and smiled
down at her when she looked into his eyes.
“You
are so beautiful,” Joe murmured softly.
They
had reached his bed and Adrienne helped Joe turn around so that he could sit
down. She ignored his remark. She could feel the heat emitting from his
body and knew that his fever was up again.
Getting out of bed and stumbling around like he had, had done nothing to
help his recovery, even if the distance from the bedroom to the kitchen had
been but a few short steps.
“Lay
down, Little Joe,” she said softly as she arranged the pillow under his head.
“So
lovely…”
“Hush…”
she whispered, but then ceased moving as he raised his hand and entwined his
fingers into her hair.
Joe
tenderly fingered the lose strains of golden brown locks and Adrienne could see
the desire in his eyes that he was unable to disguise. She took his hand in
hers to remove it from her hair. Joe
clung tightly to her smaller hand and drew it to his lips, where he held
it. His eyes had fixed on her expression
and he seemed to loose himself in her dark eyes.
Adrienne’s
heart beat rose in tempo as Joe kissed her fingers. She knew she should pull back and scold him
for his audacity, but the longing within her and the need to be loved,
discouraged her logical thinking.
“Mama?”
Adrienne
was snapped to her senses by the sound of the wee voice calling out to
her. Quickly she freed her hand from Joe’s
and then placed his under the blanket, covering him to his chin.
“Mama…I’m
hungry,” Sarah Beth cried from the doorway.
Adrienne
glanced up at her daughter and then quickly back down at her patient. Joe had closed his eyes and appeared to be
sleeping. The concerned mother hurried
to gather her daughter into her arms and carried her from the room. Once in the kitchen, she placed the little
girl in one of the chairs and fixed Sarah Beth a snack.
“You
finish your bread and butter, sweetheart, and then I’ll tuck you into bed,”
smiled Adrienne. She glanced back at
Joe, whom she could see through the opened door. He appeared to be resting comfortably.
Half
an hour later, Sarah Beth was back in bed and sleeping, unlike Adrienne’s
guest. Joe had begun to mumble and was
once again trying to get up.
“Oh
no you don’t!” Adrienne stopped Joe by gently pushing him back down against the
pillows and mattress.
Joe,
his eyes wide, and his thoughts muddled by confusion grabbed Adrienne’s
arms. “No!” he blared, as he tried to
shove her away. “Don’t make me shoot
you!” he growled.
Adrienne
lost her footing as Joe’s moment of strength almost succeeded in pushing her
backwards. She steadied herself and
using her own strength, was able to force the quickly tiring Joe back into the
bed. Joe moaned as Adrienne pressed him
back against the pillows.
“Be
still, Joe,” she said with one hand on his good shoulder. “You’re burning up, again, and look what
you’ve gone and done!” she groaned.
His
bandage was showing red and Adrienne knew that all Joe’s foolishness had
reopened the wound and it had started to seep blood. She pressed her hand to the bandage, causing
Joe to cry out.
“Oh…hurts,”
he whispered as he shrank back against the mattress. He stopped his moving about and lay perfectly
still. With clouded, pain filled eyes,
he looked up at Adrienne.
“The
boy…I have…money…for food,” Joe forced his words out.
Adrienne
had begun to remove the bandage to see just how much damage had been done. She kept a constant watch on Joe’s face,
noting each flinch and grimace of pain that he made. He groaned as she peeled away the last bit of
the bandage.
“Easy,
I don’t mean to hurt you, but I have to clean this up and put on a new
bandage,” she explained. As the last strip
of bandage was lifted, Adrienne sighed in relief; so far there was no sign of
infection.
Joe
nodded his head, his eyes were pinched shut to ward of the pain. From the corners, tiny droplets of water
seeped free and rolled ever so slowly down the sides of his face. Adrienne worked with skilled fingers, trained
by tending to the many injuries of her brothers and father over a number of
years. She noted the tears and the
little beads of water that were surfacing on his brow as well.
“Almost
finished Joe, and then you can rest,” she said softly.
She
loved living on the open range. She
always had, with Josh and then later with the children, it had always been like
paradise to her. Until recently that is,
things had gone poorly for them, half of their cattle had died when the
watering hole had gone bad. Afterwards,
things seemed to go from bad to worse, they suffered a month long drought and
had lost most of their crops, and the well had practically gone dry. They had only enough money to buy food and
supplies to last them through the winter, so Josh had bid them all good-bye,
with the promise that he would return soon with a wagonload of goods to last
them the winter. When he had left and
she was alone with just the children and herself, she had suddenly become
frightened and lonely for the first time since settling there.
When
she had found Joe, bleeding and so near death, the frightened feeling
returned. They were so far from any
town, there was nothing between them and
She
glanced again at Joe’s expression and her heart felt such sorrow for the poor
man. She’d done all she could to ease
his pain and suffering, but now it was up to him. He was young, about twenty or twenty-one
perhaps, Adrienne figured, not much younger than herself and he was certainly
healthy. By the way his muscles rippled
along his chest and arms, his stomach and even in his legs, the boy had known
hard work in his lifetime. What Joe
needed now was plenty of rest and good nourishing food.
At
the thought of food, Adrienne’s thoughts turned to her children. She dampened the cloth that covered Joe’s
brow and replaced it. Slowly she moved
to the kitchen, and began going through her cupboards; they were practically
empty. Adrienne made a mental note of
her stock, and then sighed wearily.
“Oh
Josh, won’t you please hurry…”
Joe’s
fever continued to linger far into the next evening. By the time he awoke, Adrienne had put her
children to bed and was sitting cross-legged in an old worn but comfortable
chair next to his bed. Her head was bent
low, her eyes closed tightly and by the rise and fall of her chest, Joe knew
that the lovely young woman was sleeping.
His
senses picked up the faint aroma of fresh baked bread and he couldn’t help
refraining from sniffing the air. At
that moment, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that it had been hours since he
had last had anything to eat. He thought
about slipping carefully from his bed and helping himself, but shucked that
idea. He was much too weak, he had found
that out the first time he had attempted to make his way to the kitchen. Why had he gotten out of bed? His mind seemed boggled and the reasoning so
far fetched. Joe leaned his head back
into the pillow and closed his eyes, trying to dredge the memory from his
brain.
Hungry…that
was it, he realized as his eyes popped opened and he quickly turned to
Adrienne. Her children were hungry…but
why? Hadn’t she enough food to feed
them…and if not…how was she managing? An
unpleasant thought jolted him wider awake and he felt his stomach churn once
more, but not from hunger, more so from what he realized that his being there
was costing the woman and her children.
“Adrienne,”
he said in a soft voice as he touched her arm with his hand. “Adrienne?” he whispered a second time.
Adrienne’s
head snapped up and moving quickly, she unfolded her legs and moved closer to
the bed. “Joe? What’s wrong?” she asked in a worried voice. “Are you in pain?”
Joe
saw the anxious look on her face and he hurried to reassure her. “No…at least, not too much…I’m fine…really,”
he lied, for he was hurting, far more than he cared to admit to this gracious
young woman.
“What
then…are you hungry? I have some broth…”
“No…Adrienne…”
Joe paused. “I need to know
something…and please, be honest with me,” Joe stated.
He
watched how quickly she averted her eyes so that she would not have to stare
into his. Joe reached out and took her
hand in his and gave her a quick smile.
The feel of her hand in his caused him to shudder. Joe took a deep breath and proceeded.
“Your
little boy…he was upset with you…because of me…”
“No,”
she hurried to say.
“Why? And he said that your food supply was almost
gone…I want to know if that’s true,” Joe asked.
“Joe…”
paused Adrienne and then looked up, into his face. He was watching her intently and she knew he
would never stop questioning her until he knew the truth. “Yes…he was angry at me…and yes it was
because of you…but Joe…he’s only a little boy and he doesn’t understand and…”
“I
know that Adrienne, and I don’t fault him for that…it’s okay. But what about your food supply? How low are you?” Joe inquired. His fingers gently caressed the back of her
hand as they talked.
“We’ve
almost out…there’s just a few onions and peppers, and even less potatoes and
beans…I killed the last rooster the day after I found you…and I’ve only flour
and meal enough for two more loaves of bread and maybe a skillet of
cornbread…and…and…”
Adrienne
pulled back her hand and when she had lowered her head, she covered her face
with both hands and began to weep.
“Josh
should have been back by now,” she sobbed.
“He’s never taken this long before…he was bringing back enough supplies
to last us through the winter and then he was going to get a loan at the bank
in Salt Lake City and then….” Her words became muddled and Joe could not
understand what she was saying.
Her
crying tore at his heart and he was at a loss as to how to comfort
Adrienne.
“Please…stop
crying…it can’t be as bad as you think.
Surely your husband will be back any time now, unless…”
Adrienne’s
head darted up and she ceased crying, staring oddly into Joe’s eyes. “Unless what?” she demanded.
Joe,
realizing too late his mistake, gulped.
“I only meant that perhaps he was detained for some reason…I didn’t mean
to worry you…”
“Oh…yes,”
she said, standing to her feet. She
turned and walked away from the bed, stopping to peer out the window. When she turned, she was smiling. “Oh course, Joe, my husband was just delayed,
he’ll be here soon….”
“Adrienne,
I have a little money…”
“Oh
Joe…no, I couldn’t…Besides, once Josh gets back, everything will be just fine,
you wait and see,” she rushed to explain.
“But
until then, you could use it, go into town and buy what you need…for the
children,” Joe told her.
“Town?” Adrienne almost laughed. “Joe…the nearest town is a days ride from
here…on horse back…and then it’s only a trading post. They don’t even have a
doctor; they don’t have a mercantile, no dress shops, nothing…not even a
sheriff’s office.”
“Nothing?”
stammered Joe, realizing for the first time, just how far from civilization
they actually were. “I take it they
don’t have a telegraph office either?”
“No…why?”
“I
need to wire my family in Virginia City…my father must be worried sick about
me…your husband isn’t the only one long over due,” smiled Joe.
“I’m
sorry Joe…I wish I could do something about that, but I can’t,” she returned
his smile. “I suppose, until Josh comes back
and your shoulder heals, we’re stuck with each other.”
The
smile on Joe’s face faded momentarily.
That’s not the worse thing that could happen to me, he thought and then
quickly shook the thought away.
“You
ought to be glad it was me you found and not my brother Hoss,” smiled Joe.
“And
why is that?” Adrienne asked in a light tone.
God, he was so handsome, her heart told her mind as she stood over his
bed, smiling down into his eyes that seemed to suddenly come alive with
amusement.
“Cause
my brother weighs almost three hundred pounds and eats like a horse…now me on
the other hand, I eat practically nothing at all…” Joe stopped suddenly.
“Adrienne…you
have to take the money…and you have to ride to the trading post and get some
supplies…just enough to last us a few days, until Josh gets home,” he added
quickly before she could interrupt him and refuse the offer. “For the children…please?”
She
seemed to be considering the offer. She
did have her two children to think of…she glanced at Joe with doubt still
showing on her face.
“Josh
took the riding horse and mule, Joe…there’s no way that I could get there
except in the wagon, and that would take forever…the team isn’t broke to
saddle, Joe.”
“You
can ride Cochise…my horse. You did find him,
didn’t you?” Joe hadn’t thought about his mount until just then and the idea
that his pinto might still be on the loose sent a new fear into his
heart…without a saddle horse between them…
“Yes,
I found him before I found you. He’s in
the barn…Petey’s been caring for him.”
“Can
you ride?” Joe asked.
Adrienne
surprised Joe with her light laughter.
“Of course I can ride…I was born in the saddle,” she scolded him softly.
“Good,
then take all the money out of my saddlebags and the first thing in the morning…you
ride for that trading post and get just the essentials…”
“But
the children?” she asked as her laughter died.
“They
can stay with me…”
“You? Joe, you can’t keep an eye on those
two…you’re hardly in any shape to…”
“Don’t
you worry about me, or the kids, we’ll be just fine,” he said, hoping to
squelch her fears. He wasn’t too sure of
what he, himself had suggested, but it was for sure that unless Adrienne rode
to the trading post and bought a few things, the likelihood that they would all
starve was very real.
Adrienne
moved to the edge of the bed and sat down.
Her expression was a mixture of hopefulness and doubtfulness. “Are you sure, Joe…really sure? It could take me two days, even if I left at
sunrise and then headed straight back.”
Joe’s
hand caressed Adrienne’s cheek, and again he felt the warming of his flesh as
his fingers touched her face. “I’m
sure,” he muttered in a thick voice.
Adrienne
placed her hand over Joe’s and brought the work worn fingers to her lips. Tenderly, as if she were in love for the very
first time, she kissed the palm of his hand.
Tears sprang into her eyes as she watched his grow dark with undeniable
desire. Quickly, her body tingling, she
lowered Joe’s hand and stood up, she had to stop this nonsense, she chided
herself…she was a married woman…and in love with no man, other than her
husband. Her eyes studied Joe’s face,
but this man stirred within her an unsatisfied need…Adrienne turned from Joe,
unable to continue meeting his gaze.
“I’ll
get you some broth, and a slice or two of bread. And then I need to get some
sleep, if I’m to leave early in the morning.”
She walked from the room, miniature beads of water dotted her brow and
her breathing had become labored as she leaned over the kitchen table. ‘Dear God,’ she stammered silently, ‘what’s
come over me?’
“Now
Petey, you do everything that Mr. Cartwright tells you, and you and Sarah Beth
stay inside this house, do you hear me?” Adrienne issued her orders as she
stood in the doorway. “And you make sure
that Joe stands in that bed…Joe…do you understand?”
Joe
giggled, smiling broadly, “Yes ma’am…don’t you worry, we’ll be fine,” he called
from his bed where he sat propped against the pillows. He was grinning from cheek to cheek and the angelic
look on his face, caused Adrienne to return the smile.
“I’ll
be back tomorrow night,” she promised.
“You have everything you need, and when you get hungry, Petey can fix
you some soup. I hope you don’t
mind…it’s just stewed carrots, onions and potatoes…”
“That’s
plenty,” assured Joe.
His
hand had slipped beneath the blanket and rested on the pistol that he had
Adrienne bring to him earlier. One could
never be too careful, he had told her.
He had no notion of being caught off guard, should something unexpected
spring up. She had agreed to his
suggestion and also that the children be made to play inside. She had already fed what stock was in the
barn and had milked the cow long before daylight, gathered the eggs and had
even pulled up a fresh bucket of water from the well.
“Be
careful, Adrienne,” Joe cautioned as she kissed her children good-bye. “Cochise tends to be high spirited at times,
keep a tight rein on him…he’ll get you there and back,” smiled Joe.
“Thank
you Joe…for everything,” she smiled.
“No…it’s
I that should thank you…but we’ll argue the point when you get back, you best
ride!”
With
a smile and a wave of her hand that carried to her children, sweet kisses,
Adrienne mounted up and rode away.
“But
I gotta, Mr. Cartwright! The cow’s gotta
get milked,” grumbled Petey.
Joe
wrinkled up his face. “Yes, I know she
does, but you can’t do it…not alone,” argued Joe.
Sarah
Beth had taken right up with Joe and had spent most of the day sitting in his
room keeping him company. Joe had read
to both children until he had fallen to sleep…and when he had finally woke a
couple of hours later, Petey had fed his little sister some bread and jam,
poured her some milk and put the soup on the stove to begin warming.
Everything
had gone well, until Petey got it in his head that it was time for milking the
cow.
“Oh
yes I can…I do it everyday all by myself…ain’t nothing to it!”
Petey
stood along side Joe’s bed with his little hands folded across his chest. Joe could not keep from grinning, for the
little boy looked much like a miniature man standing as he was, one overall
strap falling off his shoulders, a pout on his lips and a determined set to his
jaw.
“Perhaps
so, but tonight, the cow will just have to go without milking…you are not going
out of this house until your ma comes back,” Joe said in a tone that was equal
to Ben Cartwright’s. “Besides, it’s
already dark and I heard you tell your mother that you didn’t like to go out
after dark.”
“I
ain’t scared of the dark!” barked Petey.
“Uh
hum…you is too ‘fraid,” Sarah Beth contradicted.
Petey
glared at his sister, “Am not!”
“Am
too!”
“AM
NOT!” shouted Petey.
“You
is too ascared…” Sarah turned to smile up a Joe. Before he could ask the little girl to stop
teasing her brother, Petey moved next his sister and began shaking his fist
under her nose.
“I
ain’t afraid of the dark,” he shouted.
Joe
noted the tiny tears that had filled the little boy’s eyes. “Sarah, why don’t you go play with your
dolly. I’d like to have a word with your
brother,” smiled Joe.
“Otay
Mr. Cartwhite,” Sarah beamed as she scampered from the room.
When
Sarah had gone, Joe patted the side of his bed and waited until Petey had
inched closer. The little boy refused to
sit down next to Joe and stood along side the bed, his head bent down low.
“Am
I in trouble, sir?” he asked Joe in a low voice.
“Of
course you’re not,” he said quickly. I
just wanted to share something with you.”
“You
do?” Petey seemed surprised and he moved just a bit closer. “What?”
Joe
smiled; the boy was trying so hard not to cry.
“You know Petey, it’s alright to be afraid, sometimes a man just can’t
help it…”
“But
I ain’t afraid of the dark,” the boy stammered, trying hard to sound
convincing.
“Of
course you’re not…but when I was your age, I sure was,” Joe explained. His eyes watched the boy and when Petey met
his gaze, his eyes were wide in wonder.
“You
were?” he questioned.
“Yep,
sure was…and at night, I had to have the lamp burning on low, so I could see if
I happened to wake up,” confessed Joe.
“Wow…even
I don’t gotta have a light at night,” muttered Petey. He moved an inch or so closer to Joe. “Was ya ever scared when you got to be
big…like ya are now?”
Joe
pinched his lips tightly, and gave thought to his answer. The boy was warming to him, and anything less
than the truth right now would destroy what little ground he had gained in
earning the boy’s friendship.
“I
was scared after I got shot. I knew I
was hurt pretty bad, and I was afraid I might die. I had to find help, and I didn’t know what to
do,” Joe admitted honestly.
“Gosh,”
muttered Petey. “I’d be scared to if’n I
got shot. My Pa would have helped ya,
if’n he’d been the one to find ya, instead of Mama,” smiled Petey.
“I’m
sure he would have son,” Joe returned the smile. “But your mama helped me, and you and Sarah
Beth…I might have died if you hadn’t come along when you did. I want to thank you,” Joe was sincere.
Petey
sat down on the edge of Joe’s bed. The
boy had lowered his head. “I didn’t pray
for ya, like Mama asked me too,” Petey said in a wee voice. “I didn’t want ya to live…I just wanted ya to
go away,” he said, looking at last into Joe’s face. “I’m sorry…”
When
he looked up at Joe, his eyes had filled with tears. Joe pulled the little boy to him and held him
tightly. “That’s okay Petey…I know you
really didn’t mean it.”
“Yes
I did, honest Mr. Cartwright,” Petey pulled back and looked up at Joe. “I was afraid that when ya got better, ya
might take my Mama away…cause she’s so purty…you know. And I didn’t want my pa to come home and us
not be here.”
Joe
felt his throat constrict.
“I
don’t like my Pa to go away,” Petey batted his long lashes, causing another tear
to roll gently down his cheek. “I’m
always scared that he won’t come home.”
Petey sniffed his nose and ran his long sleeve under it to wipe off the
dampness. “Know what I mean, Joe?”
Joe
had to swallow several times to clear away the thickness. He knew all too well how the little boy
felt. When he could find his voice, he
smiled.
“I
sure do Petey. My ma died when I was
real little, younger than Sarah Beth and I missed her something terrible. I still do at times. After she died, I was always frightened when
my Pa had to go away on business. I
lived everyday that he was gone with the fear that he might not ever come
back. It was several years later before
I understood that my mama died and didn’t just go away and leave me. Pa told me that she hadn’t wanted to leave
me, but that sometimes bad things happen to good people.” Joe ruffled the top of the boy’s head and
pulled him into a hug for the second time.
“My
pa ain’t never comin’ home, Joe,” Petey said sadly.
“You
don’t know that,” Joe was surprised by the boy’s statement.
“Yes
I do…he told me that the only way he’d never come back, was if something bad
happened to him. He ain’t never lied to
me, Joe…so’s I just figured something bad must’va happened to him…and he can’t
come home. Sorta like ya mama did.”
Petey
pushed Joe’s arm away and stood up. “I
really gotta milk that cow, Little Joe,” smiled Petey. “She bawlin’, cain’t ya hear her? And ‘sides, I’m the man of the house now and
I gotta see to the chores.”
Joe
let out a long sigh. “I suppose you’re
right, Petey, but I don’t like the idea of you going out there alone.”
“I’ll
be fine…honest…please? We need the milk
for in the morning,” the boy pleaded.
“Alright,
but I’m only giving you half an hour…don’t make me come out there after you!”
ordered Joe, smiling.
Petey
giggled, “Ya heard what Mama said, ya better not get outta that bed…she keeps a
switch hangin’ on the wall,” Petey pointed to the wall, and sure enough there
was the switch.
Joe’s
face broke opened as he giggled. “I bet
your ma really knows how to use that switch, too,” laughed Joe. “You best get to the milking son.”
“Yessir,”
smiled Petey. The boy turned to leave
but stopped and turned back around.
“Thanks Little Joe…and ya don’t gotta worry none…I promise not to tell
anyone about ya being scared and all.”
“Thank
you Petey,” Joe nodded. “I appreciate
that.”
Petey
returned the smile and stopped at the door.
“Little Joe?” he said in a wee voice.
“Yes,
son?”
“So’s
ya’ll know…I really am afraid of the dark.”
Before
Joe could say another word, Petey had turned and fled the room. A moment later, Joe heard the door slam as
the boy hurried out to the barn to milk the cow.
Joe
glanced at the clock that hung on the wall in the living room that could easily
be seen through his opened door. It had
only been a few minutes, but he could not stop worrying about the young
boy. Had he made a mistake by letting
Petey go to the barn alone? What if
something happened to him, or what if the old milk cow should happen to spook
and kick the boy? Joe was becoming
nervous over his decision about letting Petey out of the house. He turned to the window, it had grown dark
quickly and the boy’s words about being afraid of the dark had added more doubt
to his stress.
Carefully
he tossed back the blankets that covered him and using extreme caution, slowly
swung his legs around until he was sitting on the side of the bed. Joe was thankful that he had been allowed to
put back on his longjohns as he didn’t think that with just one good hand, he
would have been able to manage alone.
He
smiled at the memory. It had been about
this time of day when he had demanded to have his clothes. Adrienne had brought him his long john
bottoms and after several attempts of putting on his own pants, he had to ask
the young woman to help him. Adrienne
had turned beet red and when she tried to explain why she shouldn’t Joe had
only laughed at her. Finally, after much
pleading, Adrienne had extinguished the lamp so that they would be in total
blackness. She had held the waistband
opened, and allowed Joe to step into them, and then carefully she had helped
him pull the bottoms up, until she got as far as his knees, and then she
removed her hands and turned her back to him.
Once Joe had them on, he was so exhausted that he had practically fallen
into the bed. When Adrienne heard him
moan softly, she was instantly by his side.
Her worry for his welfare shone in her eyes.
Joe
closed his eyes for just a moment, recalling his next move. When Adrienne bent down to check on him, he
had slipped his arm about her neck and quickly, yet with all the tenderness he
felt for her, pulled her down to him.
When their eyes locked, it had seemed to Joe that his world has ceased
spinning. He raised his head and gently
pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was
soft at first and then became more demanding as she yielded herself over to
him.
Joe
stood carefully to his feet, shaking his head to rid himself of the
vision. He knew he had been wrong in
kissing the lovely Adrienne, but he had not been able to stop himself, and when
she had returned the kiss so willingly, he had lost sense of everything except
for the woman whom he held in his arm.
Joe
groaned. For days now, he had been
trying to tell himself that he didn’t love her, that he couldn’t…she was a
married woman, but in truth, he knew that he was just fooling only
himself. He did love her, he desired her
and she wanted him as well…her ardent, burning kiss had told him that much.
Joe’s
thoughts were shattered by the blood-curdling scream that rang loudly through
the darkness. Joe froze in his tracks,
not fully comprehending what he had just heard until the second ear-piercing
scream shattered any doubt he might have had.
“PETEY!”
shouted Joe aloud.
He
made a grab for the pistol that he had moved to the table near his bed and
started toward the door in a rush.
Unexpectedly, the door burst opened and a terrified Petey flew into
Joe’s arm, catching him off guard. Both
man and boy staggered backwards. The
wound in Joe’s shoulder sent spasms of pain shooting throughout his weakened
body. Joe bit down on his lip, drawing
blood, to keep from screaming out in pain.
Quickly
gathering his thoughts, he grabbed the sobbing child by one shoulder. “Petey…Petey…stop crying and tell me what’s
wrong!”
Petey
sobbed on, pointing out the door. Joe
could feel the boy’s little body trembling in fear. When he glanced at Sarah, she stood in the
doorway of her room; her eyes wide with fright as well.
“Petey…calm
down…tell me, what frightened you?” Joe said as he clenched his teeth to the
throbbing in his right shoulder.
“Wild
dogs…they’re at the barn. When I
came…with the milk, I saw them, Joe…they scared me and I ran for the house,”
cried Petey.
Joe
felt the terror wash over him as he held the boy pressed to him. “I dropped the milk bucket,” sobbed the
child.
“Shh…don’t
cry, Petey, it’s okay, we’ll have more milk in the morning,” Joe explained.
“But
the cow…the dogs…they’re trying to get mama’s milk cow, Joe…do somethin’!”
sobbed Petey.
Joe
scanned the room with his eyes. He
glanced at the old pistol he held in his hand.
He needed more than a six gun to scatter the dogs. Joe had no idea how many there were, but one
wild dog, possibly starving was one wild dog too many.
“Petey,
listen to me…STOP CRYING!” snapped Joe, giving the boy a firm shake. “That’s better, does your papa have a rifle
around here?”
Petey,
sniffing, pointed to his mother’s room.
“In there, on the wall…it’s a shotgun,” Petey told Joe.
Joe
made his way into Adrienne’s room as fast as he could. He found the shotgun and removed it from the
wall. He checked to see if the gun was
loaded and when he found it empty, he glanced around the room. In what appeared to be a man’s chest, he
pulled opened the top drawer, and rummaged around inside until he found the box
of shells. Instantly he loaded the
weapon and then put several of the cartridges into the pocket of his jacket
that he had slipped on just minutes before Petey had let out the spine-chilling
scream.
Joe
turned toward the door and carefully picked his way around the furniture. His hand was bracing his body on the edge of
the dresser. As he started passed, his
eyes fell on a photograph. It was
Adrienne; Sarah Beth was much smaller and was sitting on her mother’s lap,
Petey stood to her right. It was the
face of the man with them that drew his attention, and he lifted the photograph
up until he could see the face of the man more clearly.
His
breath expelled from his lungs and he felt his body sway and quite
unexpectedly, Joe felt very weak.
Breathing had become next to impossible and Joe feared that he might
pass out. His hand trembled as he placed
the picture back onto the dresser. His
eyes shut tightly against the image.
“No…no…it
can’t be,” he whispered silently.
“JOE!”
shouted Petey. “HURRY!”
Joe’s
head snapped up and he looked into the main room. Petey stood at the front door and was
pointing into the darkness. When he looked
up at Joe, his eyes were wide with fright.
“They’re
back, Joe and one’s almost in the barn!
The cow…ya gotta save mama’s milk cow!” wept Petey.
Joe
made it to the door, and paused, placing his hand on the top of the boy’s curly
hair. He smiled, “when I go out, you
shut this door, Petey, and make sure you don’t open it again, until I call out
to you, understand?”
Petey
nodded his head. Joe glanced over his
shoulder at Sarah who was crying. “It
will be all right, sweetheart. You just
stay here with Petey. Petey, take care
of your sister,” ordered Joe as he slipped out into the darkness and shut the
door tightly behind him.
For
several moments, Joe stood in the darkness, giving his eyes time to adjust to
the dense blackness. He could hear the dogs
running around the barn and could hear them yelping at the door. His ears picked up the faint sound of
scratching and knew that the dogs were trying to dig under the door.
Carefully,
being sure to stay up wind of the animals, Joe crept slowly through the night
until he came to the well. He lowered
himself behind the small well house and peeked over the top. So far the dogs had not picked up his scent,
and Joe prayerfully begged the Almighty not to give them that chance. He counted four dogs in all. They were big dogs, shepherds of mixed sizes
he concluded, probably mixed with timber wolf, making the dogs extremely
dangerous.
Joe
checked his rifle and slowly raised it to his left shoulder and fired. The sudden noise startled the dogs, but they
refused to run off. Instead, they turned
their attention on the one who had fired the gun. A large black dog growled, the sound coming
from deep down in the animal’s throat.
The growl was meant as a warning to the dog’s predator. Joe raised up slightly so that he could see
over the top of the well house. A second
dog hunkered down as if to pounce and the third and fourth dogs, standing
slightly behind the first two, began barking loudly.
Joe
was unsure what his next move might be.
He kept his eye on the black dog, obviously the leader of the pack. The dog encouraged by Joe’s silence, crept
forward, followed by the others. The
wind had shifted and now the dogs were picking up on Joe’s scent as they
advanced.
The
pain in Joe’s shoulder had momentarily been forgotten when he had spied the
photograph of Adrienne and her family, but now had returned. Joe shivered, the night air was nippy and
when he peeked again at the dogs, there was only three. Joe’s eyes roamed the yard for the big black
dog, but being so dark, Joe was unable to find the animal.
The
dogs had shortened the distance between themselves and his hideout to about
half. When the dogs were less than half
way, Joe pointed his rifle and fired the second shell. The loud yelping of one dog pierced the quite
solitude of the night. Rushing to slip
two more shells into the barrels of his shotgun, Joe watched as two of the dogs
ran off, into the thickets that lay to the opposite side of the barn. The third dog approached cautiously, growling
as it slithered along on the ground toward him.
Not
wanting to waste any more of the precious shells, Joe stood to his feet and
began shouting, waving his one good arm into the air. The dog, not sure what was after him, tucked
his tail between his legs and darted off into the darkness to seek refuge with
his two friends.
“Whew…”
Joe sighed, glad that the dogs had left so willingly.
His
eyes searched the darkness for the big black dog, but it was impossible to see
him. The cow had begun bawling loudly as
Joe slipped to the door. His ankle
twisted slightly and he winced at the sharp pain that shot up his leg. He looked down to see what had caused him to
turn his ankle and could barely make out the hole that had been dug beneath the
barn door.
The
cow and the team of harness horses could be heard moving around nervously
inside. Something had the animals
spooked decided Joe as he eased opened the door. His rifle was cocked and ready to fire as he
slipped into the barn. Joe paused,
getting his bearings before going any further.
He had never been in the barn and the layout was something that he was
unfamiliar with. Joe had no idea how
long he stood in the shadows, but at last he heard the low growl that came from
deep within the throat of the big dog. Joe
was at a disadvantage, having only one free arm and hand in which to use the
gun. He braced his arm and the rifle on
the half wall that he leaned against. He
would have to make the shot count if he wished to rid the barn of the unwanted
predator.
Joe
took a deep breath and held it. The
animals shuffled around, obviously frightened by the scent of impending danger
that they had picked up on. The cow
bellowed loudly, a bucket was tipped over and then the cow startled the barn’s
occupants, including Joe, when she kicked her hoof out behind her. Instantly Joe heard the dog begin to yap and
knew that the old milk cow had scored the first point in her favor.
Through
the darkness, Joe could see the outline of the dog as it inched its way back toward
the cow. By this time, the cow had begun
it’s bellowing once more and moved frantically from side to side of her stall,
trying to free herself.
The
dog moved quickly as he slithered along on his belly. Joe sighted the animal and just as the big black
dog sprung into the air, Joe fired the rifle.
The echo of the shot seemed to ring in the young man’s ears. Joe watched as the dog dropped to the ground
and lay motionless. Moments later, Joe
left his hiding place and stepped over to the dog. He leaned over the dog and felt several of
the places where the pellets from the shell had entered the dog’s body. The leader of the pack was dead and Joe knew
that at least for now, the stock would be safe, for the others would not return
until they had another leader. Joe
propped the gun against the wall and dragged the dog from the barn. It would have to wait to be disposed of, for
Joe was unable to do it in his present condition. After checking and calming the stock, Joe
made his way back to the house. He was
drained, exhausted beyond going as he pushed himself to get to the house.
By
the time that Joe had reached the door, it was all he could do to stand on his
own two feet. He leaned against the
railing on the porch, and drew a deep breath.
“PETEY!”
he called weakly.
The
door opened immediately and the young boy ran to Joe, wrapping his arms about
Joe’s waist. Joe staggered slightly at
the force in which Petey collided into him.
The pain in his shoulder caused him to clench his jaw tightly to keep
from crying out. He gripped the back of
the young boy’s head and held it against his mid-section.
“You’re
alright!” cried Petey. He hugged Joe
tighter and then looked up.
“Is the cow…”
“She’s
fine, son. Help me inside, please,” Joe
insisted as he stumbled through the door.
“The bed…I have to lay down,” he moaned.
Petey
guided Joe into the room and helped him as best he could to lie down. Joe was breathing heavily and he tried to
hide his pain from the boy.
“Where’s
Sarah?” Joe said in a whispered voice.
“She’s
right here,” Petey said as he pointed to his little sister that had been hiding
behind her brother.
Joe
raised his head from the pillow and offered the little girl a weak smile. “It’s okay, Sarah, the doggies are gone
now…they won’t be coming…back.” Joe’s
head fell back against the pillow; his eyes closed.
Petey
stood next to the bed, watching and waiting expectantly for Joe to open his
eyes. After several moments, Joe's
eyelids fluttered and then opened.
Petey’s frightened face loomed over him and Joe could see the fear
written in the expression on the boy’s face.
“Ya
gonna be alright, Little Joe?” Petey said in a whisper.
“I’m
fine, son. There’s no need for you to
worry, I’m just very, very tired.” Joe
patted Petey’s shoulder. “Why don’t you
and Sarah go on to bed, it’s past your bedtime now?”
“Ya
sure, Little Joe? I can stay here…with
ya…just in case ya might need me?”
Joe
gave the boy a warm smile…somehow it appeared that he had finally won the boy
over. “I think your mama would have my
hide if she knew I let you stay up half the night…just go on to bed, son…I
won’t need anything before in the morning.”
Joe
saw the boy’s chin drop. “I’ll need you
then, Petey, so you need to get all the rest you can…Okay?”
Petey
smiled suddenly and nodded his head. “Oh
boy Little Joe…there’s lots of things I can do for ya! Pa let’s me help him all the time! Night!”
Joe
waited until Petey and his sister went into their rooms before allowing himself
the comfort of closing his eyes once more.
When he woke to the pain in his shoulder, it was several hours
later. He glanced toward the living area
and noted that Petey had left a lamp burning low. The thought of the boy using a match that
might have caused him to be burnt caused Joe to tremble. He’d have to remember to speak with Petey and
ask if his mother allowed him to do such grown-up things.
Joe’s
throat was dry and he needed a drink of water in the worst way. Carefully he swung his legs over the side of
the bed and pushed himself up, onto his feet.
With his only usable hand, Joe braced himself on the table next to the
bed and slowly managed to make it to the pitcher on the wash stand. It was emptied; Joe groaned and started to
pick it up but decided against it. Instead,
he slowly worked his way into the kitchen where he pumped water from the pump
at the sink. The water was cool and
seemed to relieve most of the dryness in his mouth. He pumped the handle one more time until the
water ran freely and then splashed some onto his face. The water was refreshing and seemed to clear
some of the cobwebs from Joe’s head.
Joe
wiped dry his face with a towel he’d found and began the trek back to his
room. He’d almost reached the door when
he stopped. Glancing into Adrienne’s
room, and seeing Petey curled up in a tight ball, Joe walked into the room and
covered the sleeping child with the blanket.
Petey moaned softly and turned onto his side, sleeping soundly as he did
so.
Joe
started out, but the photograph he’d seen earlier caught his eye for the second
time that night. Silently he picked up
the framed picture and carried it with him to the light. As he sat down in the chair at the table, Joe
held the picture under the lamplight to get a better look. He studied the image of the man, very much
aware of the knots that began tightening in his stomach. He wasn’t surprised to see the hand that
clutched tightly to the photograph, begin to shake.
“It
can’t be…” Joe murmured to himself.
“Dear God, it just can’t be!” he whispered loudly and he sat the picture
face down on the table so that he would not have to look at the smiles on the
faces of the happy family.
Joe
pushed back his chair and walked to the door, opening it. He stepped cautiously out onto the porch,
leaning against the post to support the weight of his body. His thoughts turned to the lovely young woman
who had saved his life. Adrienne was the
essence of true beauty, decided Joe. She
was kind, caring, full of compassion and pleasant to look at. Joe glanced up at the stars and wondered just
how long she and her husband, Josh, had been married. How had they met, and what was it about the
man, that had attracted her to him.
Joe
swiped his hand across his mouth. The
memory of their kiss burned his lips, giving him the freedom to wonder what it
might be like to make love to her. She
had responded to his kiss, he had seen the hunger in her eyes and he had sensed
that she had wanted him as much as he had desired her.
Joe
suddenly shook his head to free the fantasy from his head. It was silly, he told himself, to permit such
thoughts. His father would be shocked to
know that his youngest son was lusting after another man’s wife. He wondered what his father would say, if he
knew, and Joe frowned…it wouldn’t be pleasant. For Ben Cartwright was a man of
high morals and those same morals that Ben lived by, he had tried to teach to
his sons. Joe knew his father would be
disappointed in him if he had any inkling that his youngest son was harboring
such notions.
The
far distant howl of a lone coyote snapped Joe back to the present. He shivered for the late night air had grown
cool. Joe returned to the kitchen,
picked up the photograph and carried it back to Adrienne’s room where he placed
it where he had found it. He lingered
momentarily, staring at the likeness of the small family. Taking a deep breath, Joe wiped the
unexpected dampness from his face and made his way back to his bed where he lay
staring up at the ceiling until the sun’s rays had herald in the beginning of a
new day.
It
hadn’t been easy using just one hand, but Joe had managed to get the old milk
cow to give him half a bucket of milk.
By that time, Joe was wondering if he had over done himself, milking the
cow, gathering what few eggs the chickens had lain, and he had even forced
himself to make breakfast for the two children who now sat at the table waiting
to be served. It had drained his
strength, for he still very much needed to be in the bed. Adrienne would be furious with him when she
returned and found out all that he had been doing.
His
eyes sought the switch hanging on the wall and he couldn’t help but smile. The
smile however, soon died. The pain in
his shoulder had grown worse and he felt weak and sick to his stomach. His thoughts kept returning to the photograph
he had found the night before and he could only wonder about the man in the
picture with the lovely young woman.
Sleep
had abandoned Joe the night before, his thoughts had been focused on this
family…mostly Adrienne and the children…the man’s face haunted him. The one time he had closed his eyes, the face
had towered over him, sending cold chills running up and down his spine. Joe had awoken with his body covered in a
layer of sweat and from then until sunup, Joe had not slept. For the remainder
of the night, Joe had repeatedly told himself that he did not love her. But by daybreak, alone in his room and with
tears that rolled gently down his face, he had at last admitted to himself that
he had indeed fallen in love with the dark hair beauty. But it was only a magical love woven of
gossamer dreams, enchantingly real, that people in love are privileged to
feel…an exquisite ecstasy that captures the heart. In the end, Joe admitted that
it was a love that could never be; a love that was destined to die before it
bloomed. The laughter that they had
shared would turn to teardrops, the bad would, for once, over rule the good and
in the end, Adrienne and her children would end up hating him. The truth of the matter left him feeling more
drained than his injury, it left his heart with an empty, hollow feeling…and he
faced the new day with a sudden dread, for the man’s face still lingered in his
thoughts. It was because of that man in
the picture, that Adrienne and her children would turn against him before the
morning sky turned to night, and their hatred of him would be justified,
reasoned Joe.
“You
kids eat your breakfast,” Joe ordered angrily.
“I’m going to lie down for just a few minutes,” he explained as he
slowly crossed the kitchen to his room.
“Stay inside…there’s nothing you have to tend to outside…Petey…are you
listening?”
Joe
had stopped at his room and turned toward the child, waiting for an answer to
his question. “Well?”
“Yessir. I’ll make sure Sarah don’t get into nuthin’
too,” said the little boy with a quivering chin. His eyes filled with tears, yet he refused to
brush them away. “What’ca yellin’ at me
for? I didn’t do nuthin’, did I Joe?”
“Yelling?”
Joe asked surprised. “Come here Petey,”
he said in a tender voice.
Petey
did as requested and stopped in front of Joe.
Joe cupped the boy’s trembling chin and tilted his head upward.
“I’m
sorry little buddy, I didn’t mean to be cross…it’s just that…right now my
shoulder isn’t feeling too good, and I have a lot on my mind,” smiled Joe.
“Its
mama, ain’t it, Joe? You’re worried
about her, huh?” Petey asked.
Joe
nodded his head and gave the boy a smile.
“That’s right Petey, I am worried about your mother…I…”
“You
like my mama, don’t ya?” Petey said in a wee voice.
The
statement caught Joe off guard. He
glanced quickly down at the boy and tried to find his voice. He cleared his throat.
“Of
course I like your mama, but I like you too, and Sarah Beth…I like all of you,”
stammered Joe.
Petey
opened his eyes wide and then surprised Joe again by winking at him. “Yeah, I know…but you like mama best, I can
tell,” Petey grinned.
“Oh,
you can, can you…how?” Joe dared to ask.
“Cause
I seen ya and mama…the other day,” Petey taunted with a grin.
Joe
swallowed, wondering what it was that Petey might have seen, for they had done
nothing that could be counted as improper…unless one could consider the kiss
that…
“I
seen ya kiss Mama…and then I seen the way ya looked at her and the way she
looked at you. I ain’t never seen mama
look at no body like that ‘ceptin’ my pa…and that’s only cause she loves
him…Joe, do you love my mama too?” Petey suddenly asked.
Joe
was unable to look the boy in the eye and was forced to turn away. He took a deep breath…God forgive me, his
heart whispered, but yes, I love your mama.
“Petey,”
Joe said at last, “I suppose I do love your mama…but not like your pa loves
her…and your mama loves your father…not me,” Joe explained.
“Then
why’d she kiss ya?” Petey was confused and it showed on his face.
“Petey,
listen…sometimes…when two people, a man and a woman, like each other,
they…well…sometimes they kiss…it just happens,” Joe was grasping at
straws. “But that doesn’t always mean
that they are in love…just friends…and…well…someday, son, you’ll
understand…okay?”
“Oh
all right,” Petey huffed as he wrinkled his nose. “Ya best get back in bed for mama gets home
and finds out that ya didn’t mind her…she might switch ya if’n ya still up when
she gets here,” ordered Petey.
Joe
laughed softly. “You’re probably right
buddy, she might at that. Now, you
remember what I said, you and Sarah play right here in this room. You know where I’ll be if you need me…and
don’t go outside, those dogs might come back and I don’t want anything to
happen to either of you…understand?”
“Yessir.”
Joe
was still sleeping when Adrienne slid from the back of his horse. She looped the reins around the hitching post
and grabbed the sacks that were stretched across the horse’s back. It was late in the day, and the house was
quiet. She felt a twinge of
disappointment for she had half expected her children to burst forth from the
house and greet her with open arms.
When she stepped up on the porch, her disappointment instantly vanished
for the front door was jerked opened and both children, squealing with pleasure
at seeing her, flung themselves into her arms.
Adrienne was forced to drop the sacks as each child wrapped themselves
about her body.
“Mama!”
cried Sarah Beth. “Ya shouldof been
here…the wild doggies twied to get the cow, but Mr. Cartwhite shooted’em and
they wunned away and Petey was out in the barn all alone and…”
“Whoa,”
laughed Adrienne, “What’s this about wild dogs?
And Petey,” Adrienne turned to her son, “what does Sarah mean you were
out in the barn? I thought I told you
not to go outside unless…”
“Maybe
I’d better explain,” Joe said from the doorway; the children’s high-pitched
giggles had awakened him. He was
surprised at himself for the rush of relief he felt when he had heard her voice
and knew that she had made it home safely.
He grinned at her while watching her untangle her children’s arms from
about her waist.
“Perhaps
you’d better,” she returned the smile.
Her eyes swept his body, pleased to see him on his feet and looking a
might stronger than when she had left.
“From the sounds of this, I have a notion that none of you did as I
ordered!”
“I
did…I did, mama!” Sarah Beth gleamed brightly.
“But Petey and Mr. Cartwhite…they been bad boys, Mama!”
Adrienne
and Joe swapped glances and both burst into laughter. Petey, not sure what had made his mama and
Little Joe so happy, joined in the merriment.
“I’m
glad you’re feeling better, Joe,” Adrienne said in a low voice.
They
had put the children to bed and were sitting at the table, sipping coffee.
“And,
I’m glad you had a safe trip,” Joe returned the smile.
“I’m
glad to be home, honestly, the people at that trading post are despicable!”
Adrienne groaned and then smiled when Joe laughed at her. “Well, they are! Oh,” she said, suddenly remembering the news
that had sent tentacles of fear surging throughout her body. The smile on her face disappeared and she
became serious.
“I
asked about my husband. Josh always made
a point of stopping there on his way back from
Adrienne
got up and walked around the table and stopped at the door. When she turned around, there were tears in
her eyes.
“He’s
not coming home, Joe…ever,” Adrienne cried.
Joe
felt the sudden surge to his heart and quickly stood to his feet, unsure of
what to say, or how to comfort her.
“Adrienne…”
She
held her hand up to stop his words. “Something’s
happened to him, Joe…I just know it has, otherwise, he’d been here days ago.”
Joe
crossed the room to where she stood and placed his free hand on her
shoulder. Her tear filled eyes sought
his. Joe pulled Adrienne close to him
and held her while she cried.
“Adrienne…”
“No,
Joe…there’s nothing you can say…nothing that will stop this empty feeling I
have…Josh is dead, Joe…dead,” sobbed Adrienne.
Joe
swallowed and took a deep breath. “I
know, Adrienne,” he whispered softly.
“Oh
Joe…I wish I knew what happened to…” She pulled back from Joe’s chest and
stared opened-mouth at him.
“Joe,”
she uttered barely above a whisper.
“What do you mean, you know? How
could you possibly know?” she said a little louder.
She
watched his face and saw how he momentarily closed his eyes. When his eyes opened, they had filled with
tears and when she placed her hand on his arm, Joe moved away. Her touch was like a hot branding iron and
Joe wondered if he would ever be able to tell her what he had come to realize.
“Answer
me, Joe. You’re keeping something from
me! I want to know what it is!” she said
in a high pitched voice that bordered on hysteria.
“He’s
dead.” Joe said.
“WHAT?”
shouted Adrienne, tears slipping down her face.
“How…how Joe…how do you know this?”
Joe
turned around and faced Adrienne. The
broken hearted look on her face tore his heart in two. “I didn’t know that he was your
husband…honest Adrienne, I didn’t. Not until last night, when I found the
picture in your room…I was looking for the shot gun to run the dogs off…and I
saw it on your dresser, and…”
Adrienne’s
nostrils fared in anger. She had stopped
crying. “What are you saying…surely you
aren’t implying that you…Oh God, Joe…you couldn’t have…not you!”
Her
head dropped low until her chin was practically resting on her chest. Joe could see the trembling shoulders and
hear the sound of her sobs as they wracked her body.
“Tell
me!” she said between gritted teeth as she raised her head to look into his face,
seeking the truth from him.
“I
didn’t want to do it, Adrienne, but he left me no other choice. I had just made camp, a good day’s ride from
here, and he came into my camp late that night.
He was friendly at first, I didn’t think much about him, cause I’d seen
him in Salt Lake City, in a saloon…he was playing poker and…”
“WHAT! He wouldn’t…he couldn’t have been…he didn’t
have any money, except the cash for the sup…Oh God…NO!” she shouted. “He gambled away our savings…”
“Then
what?”
“As
I said, he came into camp and acted all friendly like. I invited him to stay the night…I didn’t
think there was anything to worry about…until later. I woke up and found him going through my
saddlebags. We got into a fight, and he
pulled his gun on me…Adrienne,” Joe reached out for her but she pulled
back. It was just as he had known it
would be; already the hatred was burning into her eyes.
“You’re
a liar!” she growled as she jerked her arm back out of his reach. “Josh would
never steal…no matter how much he needed the money…you’re making this
up…or…or…you were trying to rob him!
“You
know better than that,” he argued. “He
tried to kill me…he shot at me, but missed because I rolled away. I was able to get to my gun, but when I looked
back at him, he had his pistol in his hand.
I called out to him, not to shoot, but he pointed his gun at me and
fired…I had no other choice Adrienne…it was either kill or be killed!” His tone was urgent; he had to make her
understand that it had not been his wish to kill anyone…only to protect
himself. “Adrienne, please…”
“GET
AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed at Joe. “I
don’t believe you…not one word…Josh would never do those things. He was good and decent and I loved him…”
Joe
flinched when she raised her hand and brought it up to slap his face. “I HATE YOU!
I HATE YOU!” she shouted. The
tears rolled freely down the front of her face as she glared at him. “GET OUT!
DO YOU HEAR ME…I SAID TO GET OUT!”
Adrienne
stepped up to Joe and began beating his chest with her balled up fists. At that instant, Joe hated himself for the
sorrow and pain that he had brought to this family. He made no attempt to stop her, even when his
shirt showed stains of bright red where her fists hammered into the barely healed
bullet wound in his shoulder.
Joe’s
own eyes had filled with tears and when he blinked, they rolled slowly down
from the corners of his eyes.
“I
wish I’d left you out on the desert to die…God, I wish it were you instead of
Josh who is dead…” sobbed Adrienne.
She
had cried herself out and turned from him, leaving Joe standing with his good
arm tangling down to his side. His brow
was covered in sweat, his lips pressed tightly together and he had shut his
eyes so as not to have to look into hers and see the disgust that she so
obviously felt for him.
Adrienne
straightened her back and turned to face Joe.
She had ceased her crying but the remnants of tears lingered on her
cheeks. The glow was gone from her face and
when she spoke, her lips curled upward in distaste.
“I
want you out of here before daylight. I
don’t care what happens to you…I hope you keel over dead from that shoulder
wound…I hope you bleed to death and the buzzards pick your eyeballs out of your
head...”
Joe
turned his head to look at Adrienne, he could understand her resentment of him,
but her words cut him to the very core.
“I
wish I’d never found you, Joe Cartwright…I wish to God…I’d never found you!”
She
ran from the room, leaving Joe standing alone in the semi-darkness. His chest swelled with the deep breath he
drew and he felt as if his entire world had just finished crashing down on top
of his head. His heart was shattered.
Joe
turned to go, but stopped suddenly, surprised to see Petey standing in the
doorway. Joe noted immediately that the
young boy had been crying and the thoughts that he had been the cause of the
boy’s unhappiness added one more heartache to the growing pile that plagued the
youngest Cartwright.
“Petey,”
Joe said softly.
He
took one step toward the boy and stopped.
The same repulsion that had sparked his mother’s hatred, had ignited a
fire in the blue eyes that had, just hours ago, looked so trustingly into his
own.
“You
killed my Papa…,” Petey said. It was more
of a statement than a question.
Joe’s
head dropped, looking at the young boy was the hardest thing that he had ever
done. He couldn’t do it and for several
long agonizing moments, he didn’t.
“I’m
so sorry…” Joe whispered.
“I
hate you, Joe.”
The
tears dripped from Joe’s chin, he still could not bring himself to look into
the eyes, knowing that they had filled with tears and more contempt than he had
ever encountered before.
“I
know,” muttered Joe in a cracked voice.
Joe looked at his hand unaware that it trembled.
“Someday…when
I’m all grown up…and you’re old…I’m going to kill you.”
Only
then did Joe raised his head and look at the boy. He stared in disbelief at the eight-year old
lad. He was stunned at the boy’s words
and left speechless.
“Do
what my mama says and get out of here.”
The malice in Petey’s voice was undeniable and it made Joe’s blood run
cold.
“Petey…you
can’t mean what you said…about wanting to kill me?” stammered Joe.
Petey’s
body shook as he stood before Joe with all the hate that he harbored for the
man in front of him, showing in his eyes and etched onto his little brow. He looked nothing like an eight-year old boy,
standing, as he was, unafraid of the man who had admitted to killing his
father. Joe looked down into the
miniature face and felt himself flinch.
The boy had every right to hate him…and to want to kill him for what he
believed Joe had done purposely. For
that, Joe could not fault the boy, only himself.
“Yes
I do…someday…I’m gonna kill ya!” screamed Petey.
“PETEY!”
shouted Adrienne from her bedroom doorway.
Petey’s
courage dissipated at the sound of his mother’s voice and he flew into her
arms, weeping. Without a word or glance
at Joe, Adrienne gathered the child into her arms and carried him into the room
with her and shut the door. Once more,
Joe was left standing alone with nothing to keep him company but his shattered
heart.
Joe
felt numb all over. So much had happened
in the last half-hour, that none of it seemed real. He moved about, as if in a trance, gathering
what few articles of clothing he had and stuffing them into his
saddlebags. He gave one last glance
around the room to be sure he had not left anything and then slowly made his
way to the front door. He paused,
undecided as to whether or not he should take a few things with him, but
decided against it. Adrienne and her
family needed the supplies that she had ridden so far to obtain, it wasn’t
right to take food from her children. He
had already taken far too much, and not just the food from their mouths, but
their father from their lives.
Joe
brushed his hand down the front of his face to wipe dry the moisture that had
begun to seep from his eyes. How would
they fare, once their food was gone?
Where would they go? The
unanswered questions followed him to the barn.
Joe
tossed his things down on the pile of hay next to the stall where Cochise was
stabled. It was far too late and much
too dark to travel at night, decided Joe.
He’d just have to wait until daybreak to ride out, but, he promised
himself, he would do as Adrienne had asked, and be gone long before the family
woke.
The
night dragged on, it seemed endless to Joe, who stood in the open doorway of
the barn and gazed longingly toward the house.
He could see a light burning in Adrienne’s window and as she paced back
and forth in her room he could easily make out her silhouette against the
darkness outside. Joe longed to go to
her, to comfort her, to hold her in his arms, but he knew that should he try,
Adrienne would only turn him away. And,
he could not bear to hear her proclaim again, the hate that she felt for him,
or to see the sadness on her face, or the grief in her dark eyes. The entire situation ripped him to pieces and
he hurt, inside, deep down in his heart like he’d never hurt before. In that instant Joe almost wished he had died
out there, on the desert. It could not
have hurt any more than what he was feeling at that minute.
Joe
turned from the darkness and pulled the barn door tightly shut. The lonesome cry of coyotes could be heard
filtering across the blackness and giving the night an eerie feel. It was a desolate sound that rendered one
speechless and wondering…much like the heartbroken cry coming from the tiny framed
house where Adrienne Deavers lay upon her bed weeping for what she had lost.
Joe
was many miles away by the time that Adrienne crawled from her bed. The house was quiet; her children lay
sleeping as she slipped into the morning air.
She wore the same clothes that she had worn the day before. Her shoes, she had kicked off and her feet
were bare as she hurried to the barn.
When she pulled opened the door and stuck her head inside, she wasn’t
sure what she was feeling. A mixture of
relief and disappointment cornered her heart as she sighed deeply. His horse was gone, a testament to his
leaving. Adrienne walked to the pile of
loose hay and stared at the impression that his body had make where he had
spent the night. She silently cursed him
for what he had done to her and her children. She had not wanted to believe the story that
he had told her…Josh had been a good husband, an even better father. The details of her husband’s death had
destroyed something within her and left her feeling as if she had never really
known her own husband.
On
the other hand, she knew that Joe had not lied, yet she blamed him for Josh’s
death, she cursed him for her broken heart and for her children’s
unhappiness. She had said things to him,
mean, hurtful things that she had never said to another human being
before. She had snarled at him, and
slapped him, beat him with her fists, yet Joe had stood without moving, tears
running down his handsome face and had let her unleash her hurt onto him.
Joe
was in love with her, she knew it, she had known for several days. She had seen the way in which he looked at
her, watched her as she moved about doing her work. She felt it when he touched her arm, or held
her hand, she felt the heat of his passion the day he had pulled her to him and
kissed her deeply…yet she hated him. For
everything…all of it, his being hurt, her finding him and bringing him home to
nurse, for falling in love with her and for making her children like him, she
blamed him. She even blamed him for
making her question her devotion to her husband, for causing her to question
whether or not what she once thought was love, could be love at all, or
something else. Adrienne ran her fingers
through her long dark hair; she even blamed him for making her want him as much
as he wanted her.
Adrienne
let out a long sigh and let herself out of the barn. What she felt now didn’t matter anymore, he
was gone, and Josh was dead. She had no
one, other than her children and they needed her more now than ever
before. Adrienne shielded her eyes
against the bright morning rays and stared off into the horizon. She’d never see him again. The thought troubled her some, but she pushed
it to the back of her mind. What did it
matter, she could never bring herself to love the man who killed her husband,
no matter what reason…she just couldn’t do it.
Adrienne
walked slowly to the house; she had plans to make, there were things that
needed to be seen to. She would return
to
The
pain in her heart would diminish over time; but would the memory of the man,
who had stirred the seed of passion within her soul, haunt her dreams for years
to come? Who could say?
THE
END
September
2003