First, I want to thank
Joan Sattler for her help in all matters Australian. At the end of the story, I am providing a glossary
of Welsh and Australian words or phrases I used. In this story in addition to Adam, Pa and
Joe, I am also using some characters introduced in the Bonanza sequels since
that’s where I got my idea of Adam settling in Australia: Buckshot, Jacob and three
new members of the Cartwright family—Annabelle, Benj and Sarah. (Actually, there is a fourth member but that
person shall remain anonymous until you meet him/her in the story.) Finally, I feel I must add that I have never
been to Cloncurry, which is a real town in
A Son and Heir
By Deborah Grant
May 2003
“Mama! Daddy! Can we come in?” The treble voices were accompanied by a vigorous knocking on the bedroom door. It was a Sunday morning, the only day of the week Adam and Bronwen Cartwright allowed themselves to sleep an extra hour. Twelve-year-old Beth and eleven-year-old Miranda were happy to take advantage of the extra hour, but the two younger girls, who had to be rousted from bed on school mornings, were always the first ones up on Sunday.
Bronwen reached for her spectacles on her bedside table as she felt Adam get out of the bed so he could unlock the bedroom door after first slipping on a cotton nightshirt and a robe. Nine-year-old Gwyneth and six-year-old Penny bounced into their parents’ spacious bedroom, which was still dark since the first streaks of light could be seen through French doors leading to the upstairs verandah. Adam lit the lamp on his bedside table and then the three of them got into the large four-poster bed with Bronwen. “Tell uth a thory, Daddy. Tell uth a thory about when you wath little,” Penny, who had recently lost both front teeth, commanded imperiously as Adam lifted her onto his lap.
“And about Grandpa and Uncle Hoss,” Gwyneth chimed in moving to sit between her parents.
“And Uncle Joe,” Penny added but her sister said, “Don’t be a drongo. Daddy wasn’t a little boy when Uncle Joe was born.”
Penny scowled and Adam said, “Gwyneth,” in that certain tone of voice all his daughters recognized so Gwyneth said quickly, “I’m sorry, Penny,” and Adam nodded before saying, “Gwyneth’s right, Kitten. I wasn’t a little boy when your Uncle Joe was born. I was the same age that Beth is now.”
“I want a thory about you when you wath the thame age ath me,” Penny demanded.
“And how old are you? Let Penny answer, Gwyneth,” he added seeing Gwyneth was ready to blurt out the answer.
“Thith,” Penny replied with a smile that displayed her missing front teeth and Adam hugged her saying, “That’s right, Kitten.” He hoped he didn’t play favorites, but Penny was the image of what Bronwen must have looked like at her age—small and delicate with enormous violet eyes—and he couldn’t help responding to that likeness. Gwyneth, on the other hand, bore a strong resemblance to him. She was taller than either Beth or Miranda had been at her age and her legs were long and slim like his. She had also inherited some of his traits, for she was a serious, reserved child.
“Will Grandpa and Uncle Hoss be in the story?” Gwyneth asked quietly.
“Yes, they will,” he replied giving her neck an affectionate squeeze.
Bronwen put her arm about Gwyneth’s shoulders and watched as her daughters listened raptly to their father’s story. She loved all of her daughters dearly, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sad that she hadn’t given Adam a son, and she knew that although he would never admit it to her, he felt the same. Four years ago she had convinced him to stop using French letters. Before she had always conceived easily—too easily since Beth and Miranda were not quite eleven months apart—but the months turned to years and still she failed to become pregnant. She was forty-one now and the chances of her conceiving were virtually nonexistent. It was all for the best, she told herself, since she and Adam, who would turn fifty-one that November, were the age to be grandparents not parents.
At least she no longer felt she was letting Pa down as well
because four years earlier Joe had married a young woman from
Bronwen’s musings (and Adam’s story) were interrupted when Miranda stuck her head in the room saying, “May Lady and I join the party?”
Adam smiled and nodded while Bronwen asked, “Where’s your sister?”
“It’s her turn to milk Blossom,” Miranda replied while Adam and Bronwen shared a smile. When it came to getting up in the morning, Beth reminded Adam of Joe. Miranda sat at the foot of the bed, followed by Lady, their little blue and tan terrier. (She was a descendant of Belle, their first terrier, who had died the previous summer when she’d been bitten by a brown snake. The girls had been heartbroken but they’d already decided to keep Lady, who’d been the runt of Belle’s last litter, and that had eased their grief. Actually, Bronwen and Adam had been just as sad at Belle’s passing, for she’d been a part of their family ever since they’d moved from Sydney to Cloncurry eleven years earlier, but they hid their grief from their daughters not wanting to upset them further.)
“I didn’t hear any screaming, so I take it you got her up without resorting to a pitcher of water,” Bronwen remarked and Miranda grinned.
“Daddy ith telling uth a thory about Grandpa and Uncle Hoth,” Penny announced, “and you interrupted.”
“You were telling us how you used to help take care of Uncle Hoss,” Gwyneth added helpfully.
“That’s right,” Adam agreed with a smile. “After your grandpa built our cabin near
“And you weren’t any older than Penny when you took care of Uncle Hoss?” Miranda said somewhat doubtfully.
“I just helped to watch him,” Adam replied with a slow
smile. “And by that time I was seven and
not six. We were lucky that he was such
a good baby. Now, if it had been your
Uncle Joe, I couldn’t have done it. I
had a hard time helping to take care of him when I was Beth’s age. That first year we lived in our cabin
whenever your grandpa set his trap lines or went hunting, he’d carry Uncle Hoss
on his back like a papoose and I’d follow along behind. It was a lucky thing Uncle Hoss didn’t cry
much or we might have starved. By the
next winter, Grandpa would leave Uncle Hoss and me alone in the cabin when he
hunted for meat or checked his trap lines.
I know he didn’t like doing it, but Uncle Hoss was too big to carry and
too young to be able to walk that far.
When we were by ourselves, I’d tell Uncle Hoss all the stories I could
remember your grandpa had told me or we’d play with my Noah’s
“Didn’t you ever get scared being there all by yourself?” Gwyneth asked slowly.
“Sometimes,” Adam admitted, “but I tried not to show it because I didn’t want to scare Uncle Hoss. And I knew your grandpa was counting on me.” He glanced at the girls. While they all showed interest, even Miranda who’d heard these stories many times, Gwyneth’s expression was so serious and intense it make his lips quirk up for he could hear his father’s voice in his head. She’s exactly like you were at that age.
“Now, I’ve told you that winter in
“How much colder?” Penny asked.
“Cold enough that the water in ponds and little creeks freezes solid.”
“And cold enough for snow!” Gwyneth said. “I sure wish I could see some. Could we go visit Grandpa when it’s snowing there?”
“I don’t know, Punkin. Right now things are so busy at the mine that I couldn’t leave your Uncle Rhys to handle it all by himself for that long. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“I don’t think it’s fair that the only time I got to see Grandpa and Uncle Joe I was so little I can’t even hardly remember,” Gwyneth objected with a pout.
“Me, too,” Penny added.
“We’ll pay Grandpa another visit, but it won’t be this year. For now you’ll have to be satisfied with his letters. Now, do you want me to go on with the story?” They both nodded.
“One winter morning we
woke up and discovered it had snowed and there was a foot of snow on the
ground. Grandpa had to go check his trap
lines. He told us to stay in the cabin
where it was warm, but I wanted to make a snowman. So I put two undershirts on Uncle Hoss and
all three of his frocks and three pairs of socks and his shoes, which had been
mine when I was little. Then I put on
two pairs of woolen drawers and undershirts and two pairs of breeches, two
flannel shirts and three pairs of socks and my boots. Uncle Hoss didn’t have a
coat of his own so I put my old coat on him and rolled up the sleeves and put
my old cap with earflaps on him and tied it under his chin and let him wear my
old mittens. Then I put on the new coat
Grandpa had gotten me in
“Like thith, Daddy?” Penny said jumping off the bed and lying on the hardwood floor moving her arms and legs in circles.
“That’s right, Kitten. When you do that in snow it looks like an angel with wings.” He held out his hand and she got back on the bed and sat on his lap. “Uncle Hoss had lots of fun making snow angels, and so did I. After we made angels, we started on the snowman. It was so cold outside that we had to quit before we finished. We’d been outside so long that the fire in the fireplace had gone out because I wasn’t there to add wood. I knew Grandpa and I were going to have a necessary talk when he got home. If I tried to start a fire I would be in even worse trouble. Poor Uncle Hoss was really cold so I took off our coats since they were wet from the snow and his shoes and my boots and then we crawled into our bed under the sheets and blankets and I held Uncle Hoss to try and help him get warm. It didn’t help very much. Grandpa got home just before dark and he could see that I had disobeyed him and gone outside so he wasn’t very happy with me. He was even more upset when he walked into that cold, dark cabin.”
“So he gave you a necessary talk,” Gwyneth interjected.
“Yes, he did,” Adam replied, deciding to ignore the fact that she’d interrupted. “Even worse than that, Uncle Hoss and I both got bad sore throats and fevers and we were sick in bed for over a week. I felt really bad knowing that it was my fault Uncle Hoss was sick.”
“And poor Grandpa,” Bronwen said quietly, “with two sick little boys to look after all by himself.”
“It must have been awful growin’ up with no mama,” Gwyneth said pensively, snuggling closer to Bronwen, who hugged her and dropped a kiss on her black curls.
“Grandpa did the best he could but you girls are really lucky to have such a wonderful mama,” Adam said smiling at Bronwen.
“I wish I’d got to meet Uncle Hoss,” Gwyneth said sadly.
“I wish you had too,” Adam said softly, stroking her curls. “He was a wonderful man and he would have loved you and Penny so much. I remember how much he loved Beth and Miranda.”
“I wish I could remember,” Miranda replied longingly.
“It’s time for all of us to be getting up,” Bronwen broke in with a smile. “Daddy, Beth, Miranda and Gwyneth have to do their barn chores and Penny needs to feed the chickens while I gather the eggs. And then we have to eat breakfast and get ready for church.”
As she was dressing, Bronwen noticed that although her monthly flux should have started the two days earlier, there was still no sign of it. Probably just late she told herself and then forgot about it.
While the Cartwrights went about their morning chores, Nell and Mary, their two maids, began fixing breakfast in the large, airy kitchen with its white plaster walls and cheerful red and white gingham curtains. Actually Nell, a widow who’d been with Bronwen and Adam since their marriage thirteen years earlier, had gotten up as usual to make cinnamon buns for breakfast. After Bronwen brought in the eggs she’d gathered, she began frying them the way Adam liked them while Mary, a young Aboriginal woman who’d begun working for the Cartwrights after Penny’s birth, fried the bacon and the potatoes. On a cool June morning like this one, the large stove made the room comfortably warm. On a sweltering January afternoon it was another story.
It was Penny’s and Gwyneth’s job to set the table so once the chickens were fed, Penny hurried to the large dining room at the front of the house, with its pale apricot walls, and began setting out the silverware and napkins on the large dining room table. The French doors leading to the verandah were closed since it was such a cool morning as was the large window on one wall and the drapes of amber velvet were drawn. Gwyneth came in the backdoor a few minutes later having taken care of her pony and, after washing her hands at the kitchen sink, she ran down the hall to the dining room and began taking the blue and white Wedgwood china from the china cabinet along one wall and setting it on the table. By the time the others had finished their chores and washed up, breakfast was ready and Nell and Mary were setting the food on the table and Gwyneth tied back the drapes, allowing more of the morning sunshine to illuminate the room.
Once Nell and Mary had finished setting out the food, the Cartwrights gathered around the table, with Adam at the head and Bronwen at the foot, the two older girls on one side and the two younger on the other. They held hands and sang an Elizabethan grace in canon, and then everyone concentrated on eating since they still had to dress for church. Cloncurry now had Anglican, Catholic and Methodist churches, and since Bronwen was a devout Methodist, they attended Chapel Bethel.
Adam found himself looking around the table as he finished his cup of tea (coffee just wasn’t available in the outback), a faint bemused smile on his face. There is a definite irony in the fact that except for a few happy years in my childhood and adolescence the first thirty-seven years of my life were spent in an exclusively male household, yet now, I’m the only male among five females—no, seven if I count Nell and Mary.
In the beginning he’d thought raising daughters would be easier than raising sons, but he soon learned his mistake. For instance, Gwyneth was more accident prone than any of the Cartwright boys had been. At the age of eighteen months she’d fallen off the verandah and cut herself so badly on a protruding nail that Dr. Brooke had to put six stitches in, and she now had a faint scar on her forehead. When she was four, she fell down the stairs and sprained her left wrist. Back in January, she had been climbing a gum tree with her cousin, Llywelyn, fallen and broken her left leg. In addition, Beth had a fall from her pony and broke her left arm when she was nine. Still, he could cope with broken bones after having helped his father raise his younger brothers. (Although he discovered it was somehow different when it happened to your own child as opposed to a sibling.)
If he’d had sons, then he’d have taught them to use a gun, to fish and to play the ballgames that boys loved. Bronwen could teach the girls to sew and cook, but he didn’t fit in that feminine world. He loved his daughters and he wanted to be part of their lives, but it wasn’t that easy. He’d had to work to find things they could do together. He taught each of the girls to ride and took pride in their skill. Beth had an artistic flair and expressed an interest in photography so he instructed her in the rudiments and praised her initial efforts. Miranda shared his love of mathematics and he planned on teaching her algebra, geometry and trigonometry since he knew those subjects were not available to her at the local school. While all the girls enjoyed singing and Bronwen gave them lessons, only Gwyneth had expressed an interest in learning to play the guitar and so he spent special time with her giving her lessons. Penny had invited him to countless tea parties and he’d played the girlish game of Graces with its ribbon-bedecked throwing rings with her. (That last he had never mentioned to his father or brothers because he was embarrassed, but Penny had enjoyed it so much that he swallowed his manly pride.)
Adam and Bronwen both came from close, loving families and they wanted the same for their children so evenings were family time. Sometimes they played games together, such as Old Bachelor, Dr. Busby and The Errand Boy. Other times they sang together; Adam would sing bass, Bronwen would sing tenor while Miranda and Penny sang alto and Beth and Gwyneth sang the melody. Then every night they’d all gather in Gwyneth and Penny’s room for a bedtime story.
Being a father, Adam discovered, didn’t leave him as much time as he’d like to be a husband. By the time they’d tucked the girls in and kissed them goodnight, he and Bronwen often were too tired to do more than fall asleep. Luckily they were both early risers, for the hour just before dawn was sometimes their only chance to talk. They were not only lovers—they were friends who’d initially been drawn together by their mutual love of literature, art and music. They needed to talk about ideas and not just domestic matters, but it was often an uphill battle finding the time and energy to do so.
But I am indeed a fortunate man, he told himself. Bronwen and I have had thirteen years together, and God willing, we’ll have many more. I don’t understand how Pa could bear to lose the woman he loved not once, not even twice, but three times. To lose Bronwen would be to lose a part of myself.
After breakfast, he dressed quickly in a frock coat, waistcoat
and trousers of charcoal gray broadcloth, a crisp white shirt and a crimson
“We’re ready, Daddy. May we go now?” Penny asked.
“Not until your mother and sisters are ready,” he replied with a smile.
“May we sit on the swing?” Gwyneth asked.
“As long as you don’t start playing with Lady you may sit on the swing. We want to keep your dresses pretty.” He watched fondly as they skipped outside. After a minute or two, Bronwen and Miranda came down the stairs. Miranda’s dark hair curled more loosely than Gwyneth’s so she wore hers in ringlets that hung down her back to her waist while Bronwen continued to wear hers in a mass of braids pinned at the back with her front hair curled in a fringe. Seeing the impatient expression on her husband’s face she said quickly, “Beth is almost ready, cariad. She’s just finishing her hair. Are Penny and Gwyneth on the verandah?”
Adam nodded and added, “I’ll give her two minutes and then she can walk to church by herself.”
Bronwen smiled inwardly, for they went through this every Sunday morning. Poor Adam bach would never get used to the time it took women to dress.
Almost exactly two minutes later Beth came down the stairs, with her hair in carefully arranged ringlets. Since she and Penny had inherited their mother’s straight ebony hair, they both suffered through sleeping with their hair wrapped in rags. When he saw his four beautiful daughters dressed in their best Sunday clothes, all Adam’s irritation vanished as it always did. “All right, ladies. Let’s be off,” he said offering Bronwen his arm, which she accepted with a smile.
Rhys, Matilda and Llywelyn Davies had been waiting for the
Cartwrights as they did every Sunday so the two families could walk
together. Llywelyn, a short, stocky boy
of ten with his father’s thick black hair and his mother’s slightly protruding
brown eyes, looked uncomfortable dressed in his
“Girls kept you waiting again, did they?” Rhys asked with a grin. Like his brother-in-law and business partner, his waist had grown a bit thicker during the twelve years he’d lived in Cloncurry but unlike his sister, his black hair was now liberally streaked with white.
Adam sighed and then said with a wink, “It’s always worth it though. I shouldn’t brag, but I do have four beautiful daughters.”
“And of course, he takes all the credit,” Bronwen said teasingly causing the others to smile. Just then Gwyneth and Llywelyn came running back.
“Daddy, Llywelyn says he and Uncle Rhys are going fishing after our picnic. May we fish, too?”
“I don’t see why not,” Adam replied with a slight grin. “Are you going to be able to bait your own hook this time?”
“Do I have to?” Gwyneth asked, looking at him pleadingly.
“I can do it for you?” Llywelyn offered.
“No, I’ll do it for her,” Adam stated with a smile. “I just wanted to see if she’d do it herself.”
“I don’t like to touch the bait,” Gwyneth replied with a slight shudder that made her father and uncle smile broadly while her cousin shook his head in bewilderment. She and Llywelyn ran to rejoin the others while the four adults strolled along in a more leisurely fashion.
They were in the midst of Cloncurry’s dry season so the tufts of grass were brown and sere. Only one or two houses had flowers in the yard. Water was precious now, although in a few months it would be summer and there would be monsoonal rains, so it was hoarded. Most yards had at least one gum tree to offer shade in the merciless heat of summer when the temperature sometimes reached 120 degrees. This time of year, it usually never got above 80 degrees and now in the early morning it was still pleasantly cool. Adam had grown up in the high country of the Sierra Nevadas but he’d learned to appreciate the gentler beauty of the hills surrounding Cloncurry—hills that provided the minerals that made Cartwright & Davies Mining Co. so profitable. Of course, Adam was too astute a businessman to let his family’s financial security be totally dependant on one business venture. He was also a silent partner in a local stud farm and he had his one-fourth interest in Cartwright Enterprises plus various other investments he’d made over the years. As each of his daughters was born, he had opened a trust fund in her name and made regular deposits over the years. He was confident that each would be financially independent by the time she was twenty-one. Since he was a prudent man, he had also made a will so that if anything should happen to him, Bronwen and the girls would not have any financial worries.
They all separated when they reached Chapel Bethel. Matilda taught Sunday school and the three younger children went with her while Beth and Miranda were deemed old enough to attend church with Adam, Bronwen and Rhys. After the service was over, the Cartwrights and the Davies hurried home to change. Adam, Rhys and Llywelyn changed into calico work shirts. Llywelyn changed into a pair of knickerbockers while Adam put on a pair of Levi Strauss & Co waist overalls. The women changed into everyday dresses of muslin or calico while the girls wore knickerbockers like Llywelyn since they were going riding. Rhys and Matilda drove the Davies’ buggy with the picnic hamper Nell and Mary had prepared before church while the six Cartwrights and Llywelyn rode to their favorite picnic spot along the banks of the Cloncurry River. Miranda, Gwyneth, Penny and Llywelyn all rode Welsh Mountain ponies while Adam and Bronwen had given Beth a Welsh Cob like Bronwen’s for her twelfth birthday. She and Gwyneth were the most accomplished and enthusiastic equestriennes in the family. Gwyneth was already hinting that she was outgrowing her pony but her parents had told her firmly that they wouldn’t consider giving her a horse until she was twelve. (Although Adam privately suspected they might have to reconsider if she kept growing at the same rate. A pony only twelve hands high soon would be too small.)
They spent a very pleasant Sunday afternoon. After they finished the delicious food Nell and Mary had prepared, the two men, Llywelyn and Gwyneth fished while the others sat up the croquet game Rhys had packed in the buggy with the hamper. Llywelyn and Gwyneth each caught one fish and then they decided to join the croquet game. Adam and Rhys dozed and fished companionably until Penny came to beg them to join in the final game.
As Adam and Bronwen rode home side by while the children raced ahead, she asked him quietly, “A penny for your thoughts.”
He smiled gently. “I was just thinking what a lucky man I am. I have you, our girls, a good friend in Rhys and a successful business.”
“I can think of one thing that would make our happiness complete,” she said wistfully.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly. “We have four beautiful, intelligent and healthy daughters. Isn’t that enough?”
“I know it should be, but I still wish we had a little boy,” she replied forlornly. “I’m not pining about it. You know that; I just can’t help wishing.” She smiled at him brightly then. “Do you want to sing after we eat the fish for supper?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” He then added thoughtfully, “You know, I think that it’s also a blessing that all four of our girls have lovely voices, and it’s lucky that we have two sopranos and two contraltos.”
“That reminds me,” she said. “I must tell Matilda that I’m taking Gwyneth out of Sunday school next week because she, Beth, Miranda and I are going to sing. All the girls have lovely voices, but Gwyneth’s has a power and sweetness none of the others has. While I struggle to reach high C, her voice soars effortlessly above it. She is definitely a lyric soprano.”
“She does have a beautiful voice; almost as lovely as her mother’s,” Adam replied with a wink.
The two families gathered at the Cartwright house and while the men cleaned the fish, all the children cared for their animals (Beth helped Penny who was too small to unsaddle her pony.) After supper, which Bronwen and Matilda prepared since Nell and Mary had the evening off, the Davies and the Cartwrights gathered in the drawing room, and while Adam accompanied them on the guitar, they sang their favorite songs.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Bronwen forgot all about the fact that she’d had no monthly flow until the next month when once again there was no sign of any bleeding. She wasn’t sure if she were pregnant or if she could be going through the change, but when a week or so later she began to experience severe morning sickness she knew they were finally going to have a fifth child.
“Does this mean what I think it does?” Adam asked the third morning he barely got the wash basin to her in time.
“I think so, but I’ll go see Dr. Brooke today,” she answered listlessly. Then, in spite of her nausea, she added with more of her usual enthusiasm, “Maybe this time it will be boy, cariad!”
“And maybe it will be a fifth girl,” he reminded her. “I’ll be fifty-one when this baby is born; old enough to be his or her grandfather,” he added shaking his head.
“But you are happy about it, aren’t you?” she asked anxiously.
“Right now I think I’m just surprised,” he replied. “I’ll be happy once I get used to the idea. Should we tell the girls now, or wait a month or so?”
“If Dr. Brooke says I am pregnant, then I think we should wait until I start to show before we say anything to the girls or Rhys and Matilda,” and he nodded his agreement. “However, I think we can tell Pa and Joe and Tad and Mam.”
One look at her radiant face when he returned home for supper gave him his answer. They kept the news a secret from the girls, but Nell and Mary figured it out almost immediately. “I think Missus Cartwright is gonna have another baby,” Mary announced to Nell one afternoon as they ate their dinner in the kitchen.
“I think you’re right,” Nell said with a half-smile. “I hope this time it’s a boy,” and Mary smiled her agreement. “We’ll just pretend to be surprised when they tell us.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
One warm August evening Buckshot, the wall-eyed cook the Cartwrights had hired after Hop Sing’s unexpected death a year earlier, began bringing platters of food in from the kitchen and placing them on the dining room table. To Ben and Joe it still seemed wrong for anyone but Hop Sing to be preparing their food and they knew it always would. However, Buckshot was a decent cook and a decent man. He did his best to fit in with the household, for he understood Hop Sing had been more than merely a cook to the Cartwrights.
Ben, Joe, Annabelle and three-year-old Benj sat around the dining room table. Ben was seventy-four now and beginning to feel his age, although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but Paul Martin. His hair had changed from gray to snow-white over the years and his face was now lined and leathery but he still stood straight and proud. Now he gazed fondly at his family. Joe was thirty-nine and his hair was as thick and curly as ever, but it was now more gray than brown. His face was still youthful but there were lines that hadn’t been there eight years earlier, for the loss of his beloved older brother and his first wife had aged him almost overnight it seemed to his father. However, he was as lithe and muscular as he had been at twenty. Ben let his gaze travel to his little grandson and namesake. Benj favored his mother and had inherited her blonde hair and large blue eyes. He had inherited his mother’s quiet, rather reserved nature as well. Ben then reflected on the family’s absent members. First, his thoughts turned to Hoss. How he missed his gentle, loving middle son. His loss was a wound that would never heal, just as the loss of the three women Ben had loved with all his heart. Then his thoughts turned to his firstborn and his family
Ben was secretly amused that his youngest and oldest sons had married such different women. Joe’s Annabelle was five feet, five and a half inches tall with an hourglass figure. She had dark honey-blonde hair and classically beautiful features. Adam’s Bronwen, on the other hand, was barely five feet, slender and petite. Her hair was black as a raven’s wing and her features would be described as winsome rather than beautiful. The differences didn’t end with their physical appearances. Annabelle was cool, serene and sensible while Bronwen was warm, lively and impetuous. Ben loved them both, but even though he had lived with Annabelle four years and only spent a couple of months total in Bronwen’s company, in many ways he felt he knew Bronwen better than he did Annabelle.
As they passed the food around Joe said quietly, “We got a package from Adam.”
“Good,” Ben said with a smile that lighted up his whole face. “I hope that means he’s sent more photographs of the girls.”
“I guess we need to send him a photograph of Benj and Sarah. Right, Pardner?” Joe commented with an answering smile and he reached over to tousle his son’s blonde curls and the child grinned at him.
“Sarah is a little too young now, but we can have Benj’s photograph taken,” Annabelle stated. “It’s nice that Adam took up photography as a hobby so at least we can see his girls grow up in photographs.”
After they finished eating, Annabelle took Benj upstairs and put him to bed while Ben and Joe waited impatiently for her to return. As soon as she came down the stairs, Ben opened the package and found, in addition to the photographs, a letter from Adam and one from each of the girls. He decided to look at the photographs first. “Beth is growing up so fast,” he said wistfully as he looked at the image of his oldest grandchild.
“How old is she now?” Annabelle asked.
“Well, let me see. She’ll be thirteen in January, and that’s five months from now,” Ben replied, handing her the photograph.
“Thirteen is about the age little girls start becoming women,” Annabelle said reflectively. “At least it was true for me and most of my friends.” She didn’t notice the uncomfortable expressions on the faces of her husband and father-in-law.
“I wonder how many young men there are in Cloncurry,” Joe said as he looked at Beth’s photograph with a big grin. “It looks to me as though older brother is going to have his hands full in a couple of years.”
“Miranda looks more like her grandmother each time I see a photograph,” Ben said softly as he gazed at her likeness.
Annabelle moved to stand behind Ben. “Oh, it’s remarkable how much she looks like
Adam’s mother.” She moved to Ben’s desk
and picked up the daguerreotype of
“Does it hurt you to see how much she looks like Adam’s mother?” he asked Ben cautiously.
“No,” Ben replied slowly. “Liz has been gone for over fifty years now. She was so young when she died. I lost all your mothers when they were much too young, but Liz wasn’t even twenty. Seeing how strongly Miranda resembles her only brings back happy memories—how young we both were and how much in love.”
Joe pulled out another photograph. “Well, if Miranda looks like Adam’s mother, Gwyneth sure looks like Adam.”
Ben looked at that photograph and grinned. “She surely does.”
“And Penny looks like Bronwen,” Annabelle said with a slight smile.
“Hey, Adam must have gotten Rhys to help because here’s one of the whole family, including their dog,” Joe said with a giggle as he examined the photograph of the six Cartwrights (and Lady) posed in front of their home. “Ol’ Adam’s definitely bald now. Got more hair on his face than on his head.”
“He may be bald but he is still a very handsome man,” Annabelle stated reprovingly. “What I can’t understand is how after four babies Bronwen has kept her figure. She is so slender.”
“Your figure looks just fine, honey,” Joe said putting his arm around her waist. “Bronwen’s always been a bit too thin for my taste.”
“Shall I read Adam’s letter now?” Ben asked, setting down the box of photographs, and they both nodded. However, just then they heard Sarah crying.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” Annabelle said with a sigh. “Joe can tell me what Adam wrote later.”
“No, we’ll wait,” Ben stated firmly.
Luckily Sarah was only wet, not hungry, so Annabelle returned in a few minutes and sat beside Joe on the settee. Ben put on his reading glasses and then began to read.
Dear Pa, Joe and Annabelle,
I have some surprising news to share. Sometime at the end of January or the beginning of February, our family will increase. ¼
“So Adam’s gonna be a daddy again,” Joe chortled. “Sure hope it’s a boy this time and not the newest member of his harem.”
“Joe,” Annabelle scolded and with a big smile Ben continued reading.
I’m still trying to
get used to the idea of becoming a father again at my age. I thought
We decided to put off telling anyone here until Bronwen begins to show, but I’m sure Nell and Mary and probably Matilda have already deduced the truth. The girls are all doing very well. Beth is on the verge of becoming a young woman, which absolutely terrifies her father. She is already trying to convince us that she should be able to pin her hair up and lengthen her skirts. We have told her firmly that won’t happen until she is at least fifteen. (And older than that if I have my way!) There really aren’t very many boys her age here and young men are mostly miners or jackeroos (that’s Australian for cowboys). Still, Cloncurry is growing. We now have a small hospital, a school, three churches and a newspaper. Hopefully when our girls are old enough to begin thinking of marriage, there will be a larger population.
Unlike Beth, Miranda is happy that we now have a school and she is earning excellent marks. However, she is very disappointed that the school doesn’t teach higher mathematics. She is not even twelve, but she’s asked me to teach her algebra, and she is picking it up so easily. It is a crime that she can’t attend a college or university and earn a degree. ¼
“Oh, I must write him about Vassar, Smith, Wellesley and the Harvard Annex,” Annabelle broke in excitedly.
“What are they?” Joe asked her curiously.
“Women’s colleges here in the
“I doubt Adam and Bronwen would agree to Miranda attending school here. And I’ll bet those colleges are all back east,” Joe said firmly.
“Smith, Wellesley and the Harvard Annex are all in
“In what?” Joe repeated.
“In loco parentis. It means in the place of the parent,” Ben said gravely. “I think Adam and Bronwen might be interested in the information, and I’m sure they’d appreciate your sending it to them, Annabelle. But let’s get back to Adam’s letter, shall we?”
Gwyneth and Penny are also attending school now. While they aren’t the scholars that Miranda is, they both enjoy their lessons. Gwyneth is proving to be a bookworm just like her older sister; however, she doesn’t share her love of mathematics. Arithmetic is the one subject that she struggles with. She is my quiet girl. I’m afraid she would have a harder time in a larger town or a city, but Cloncurry is small enough that she knew most of the children her age before she began attending school. For her ninth birthday we invited all the girls in her class to a party here, and they all seemed to have a good time so we’re going to do the same for the other girls. (Beth is hinting that she would like to invite the boys as well as the girls in her class; I’m against the idea but both Beth and Bronwen are trying to change my mind.)
Gwyneth’s best friend is still her cousin, Llywelyn. After their schoolwork is done, they usually go for a ride on their ponies with Lady and Cafall (Pip’s successor) trotting behind. That is changing, however. Llywelyn is now on the school’s cricket team and he doesn’t have as much time to play with Gwyneth. I know Rhys is relieved that Llywelyn is spending more time with other boys, but it’s hard on Gwyneth and she’s spending more time alone reading. (She devoured The Blue Fairy Book, by the way, and also the book we gave her for her birthday, Black Beauty. It took a little longer but she’s now finished True Stories from Ancient History, which was Tad and Mam’s birthday gift. Tad doesn’t think she should spend all her time reading fiction.) Bronwen and I wish that she had a special friend among the girls her age but she’s just never been very interested in playing with dolls or learning to sew and embroider. Thank goodness she loves to play croquet. Often when I come home from the mine, I’ll find most of the children in the neighborhood playing a game in our front yard and Gwyneth is always there and having a good time.
I think the reason Penny enjoys school is that she can be with so many little girls her age. She is definitely the most gregarious of the girls and has made lots of friends at school. Her best friend is Kate Newkirk, who lives across the street. After school either Penny plays at Kate’s house or Kate plays at ours. (Penny isn’t too interested in croquet; it is mostly her older sisters and their friends who play.) Like Beth, Penny loves pretty clothes, and most of the dresses are too worn by the time they get to her so she gets as many new dresses as Beth. It’s lucky for me that Miranda and Gwyneth aren’t as interested in new clothes. Bronwen warns me that as they get older that will change. My little Penny is also growing up. She’s lost both front teeth at the same time so the poor thing lisps now but it’s really rather endearing.
This letter is getting long so I’ll conclude by sending you all our love and enclosing some photographs I’ve taken of the girls and one Rhys took of the entire family. (Gwyneth insisted on Lady being in the photograph. She really wanted to include all our mounts as well but Bronwen and I drew the line at that and I explained that the horses would spook at the flash going off.)
Affectionately yours,
Adam
“Would you all like to hear the girls’ letters?” Ben asked as he carefully refolded Adam’s letter.
“Sure,” Joe replied with a grin and Annabelle nodded.
“I’ll start with Penny’s.” He opened a sheet of paper covered with Penny’s large crooked printing.
Deer Grandpaw,
How are you? I am fine. I losted to teth. Gwyneth and me want to com see you and sno.
Love,
Penny
“They don’t have snow in Cloncurry?” Annabelle asked as Ben refolded the letter.
“No, even their winter it doesn’t get that cold,” he replied. “Maybe when the new baby is old enough, they will come for a visit although I doubt it will be during our winter. Now let’s see what Gwyneth wrote.” He unfolded a letter written in Gwyneth’s large sprawling handwriting.
Dear Grandpa
Happy Fourth of July!
Daddy bought us some firecrackers we could set off to celibrat
Your grandaughter,
Gwyneth
“I’m glad to see Adam is teaching them about our country just as he said he would,” Ben said with a smile.
“May I see the letter?” Joe asked and Ben passed it over. Joe chuckled as he looked it over. “Adam’s right. Her handwriting is like Bronwen’s.”
“Now Miranda’s letter,” Ben said taking Gwyneth’s back from Joe. As he unfolded her letter, he saw her beautiful, neat handwriting.
Dear Grandpa,
I hope you and Uncle Joe, Aunt Annabelle, Benj and baby Sarah
are well. We are all well here. Since
today is
I shall end by saying that I hope we can visit you soon. (Daddy told us that things are too busy at the mine right now, but maybe next year we can come see all of you.)
Love,
Miranda
“I think she really is a female version of Adam,” Joe said shaking his head. “A little girl who actually wants to study mathematics.”
“Well, if she meets a boy and falls in love, I imagine she’ll forget all about mathematics,” Annabelle said with an indulgent smile.
“I don’t know,” Ben said slowly. “Adam and Bronwen both say she’s as stubborn as the two of them put together. I have a feeling no boy is going to compete with her desire for a higher education.”
Annabelle looked skeptical but she suggested Ben read Beth’s letter. Beth’s handwriting was so fancy Ben found it difficult to read.
Dear Grandpa,
Everyone else wrote to you on Independence Day, so I decided to wait until today. I imagine Daddy told you that we now have a school in Cloncurry. It’s nice being able to see my friends, but I hate schoolwork! Yesterday my class had to write an essay about the advantages of receiving a good education. I told Daddy that I couldn’t think of any and he told me I needed to think harder. Miranda had already finished her essay and it filled the whole page, but she likes school. She and her friend, Emma, are the only girls in the school who like it! Most of the boys don’t like it either. I know how to read and write and I can do arithmetic (even if I don’t like it), so I don’t see why I need to go. Of course, I guess as long as my friends are in school, I wouldn’t want to stay home. (Especially since Mama says if I did stop going to school, then I’d be helping Nell and Mary with the laundry and the ironing and scrubbing the floors.) I like to help with the cooking. Mama has shown me how to make scones and biscuits and how to make pound cake. Daddy says my biscuits are as good as Mama’s. Cooking is something I can do better than Miranda. She made biscuits last week and she left out the baking soda and put in twice as much salt as the recipe call for. Even Lady didn’t want to eat those biscuits! I like to sew, too. With help from Aunt Matilda I made myself a new dress. (Aunt Matilda likes to sew and Mama doesn’t so that’s why I asked Aunt Matilda to help me.) It’s a beautiful dress of amber moiré with a sash of apricot silk. I wanted to make a polonaise with a long skirt but Aunt Matilda said I’d have to have Mama and Daddy’s permission. They said I couldn’t wear long skirts and pin up my hair until I’m fifteen. They treat me as though I were Penny’s age, especially Daddy!
Grandpa, would you please write Daddy and tell him you think that when I turn thirteen I should be able to pin my hair up and wear long skirts. There is a boy at school named Paul; he is fifteen and he is very handsome. I just know that if I could wear my hair up and long skirts that he would like me, but now I just look like a little girl so he doesn’t pay any attention to me, just this older girl named Flora. I’ll love you even more, Grandpa if you can get Daddy to stop treating me like a little girl.”
“Poor Adam,” Joe giggled. “He is going to have his hands full with Beth.”
“I wonder if he and Bronwen know she is interested in this Paul. I’m certainly glad he views her as a little girl,” Ben said, his brow furrowed.
“I had my first case of calf love when I was about eleven,” Annabelle said. “It’s really not unusual and it’s perfectly harmless.” At her husband and father-in-law’s skeptical looks she said with a smile, “You wait. The next time Beth writes she will have forgotten all about Paul and it will be another boy she’s interested in.”
“You’re the expert, honey,” Joe said, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her close.
“Is there more?’ Annabelle asked.
“A little.”
Daddy says for me to hurry and finish so he can get our letters and photographs in the mail so I will close by sending everyone on the Ponderosa my love
Love,
Beth
P.S. Don’t forget to write Daddy and tell him that I should be able to wear my hair up and my skirts down.
“I am glad we only have one daughter,” Joe said with a smile. “I don’t wonder Adam is going bald; I wonder he has any hair left at all.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Girls, before you get started on your schoolwork, Daddy and I need to talk to you,” Bronwen said with a smile as the two older girls began clearing away the dishes and glasses while the younger two cleared away the silverware and napkins.
“All right, but I hope it won’t take long because we have a long history lesson,” Beth said anxiously.
“And you’re still going to check my algebra and give me some more problems, aren’t you, Daddy?” Miranda asked.
“I said I would,” Adam replied with a little smile. “You all hurry and do the dishes and then come to the library.”
“I wonder what they want to tell us,” Beth mused aloud while Nell and Mary exchanged looks as they finished their meal in the kitchen.
“Well, they seem happy so it must be good news,” Miranda replied.
“Maybe Tad-cu and Mam-gu are coming for a visit!” Penny said excitedly.
“Or maybe we’re going to visit Grandpa,” Gwyneth suggested with a big grin that displayed her dimple.
“Well, the sooner we finish the sooner we’ll find out,” Miranda said firmly so the two older girls concentrated on washing and drying the dishes while the younger two put them up in the cupboard and drawers. They hurried into the library with its paneled walls and built-in bookshelves and found their mother waiting in one of the brown leather armchairs while their father leaned against a bookshelf.
“Why don’t we all sit down,” Adam said.
“Can I sit in your lap?” Penny asked and smiling he picked her up and sat in the chair beside Bronwen. The older girls each sat in an armchair and Gwyneth perched on the arm of Bronwen’s chair.
“Daddy and I have a surprise for you,” Bronwen began when Penny interrupted.
“Tad-cu and Mam-gu are coming for a visit!”
“Kitten,” Adam admonished her. “It’s very rude to interrupt someone else when they are speaking.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Penny said contritely.
“I think this surprise is even better than a visit from Tad-cu and Mam-gu. You’re going to have a new baby brother or sister and he or she will be born right around your birthday, Penny. You might even share a birthday like Miranda and Daddy.”
For a moment only dead silence greeted this announcement and the two older girls wore stunned expressions.
“I hope it’s a brother,” Gwyneth announced ending the stillness. “I’ve got enough sisters.”
“Me, too,” Beth added and Miranda said with a slight grin, “Me three.”
“If you get another sister you know you’ll love her,” Bronwen chided them.
“I still want a brother,” Gwyneth stated emphatically, which made her parents laugh.
“May we start on our schoolwork?” Miranda asked.
Adam nodded and added, “When you’ve finished, I’ll give you some algebra problems. I checked yesterday’s work and you didn’t have any errors.”
Miranda dimpled at those words and she and Beth sat at the big partners’ desk to work on their lessons.
“We don’t have any work except our spelling,” Gwyneth said.
“Well, I’ll go over your words with you,” Adam said, “but let’s go into the drawing room so we won’t disturb your sisters.”
“Okay,” Gwyneth replied, “and then you said you’d teach me to play a new song on your guitar. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” he replied with a slight smile quirking up his lips. He had begun teaching her basic chords a few months ago and she had practiced and was now able to play several simple songs. He had decided that for Christmas he would get her a guitar of her own.
“I have to catch up on the mending, so I’ll join you,” Bronwen said.
Once the others had gone Beth looked at her sister. When Beth had turned twelve Bronwen decided it was time for a mother-daughter talk and since Miranda was so close in age she talked to them both. Remembering that talk, Beth turned to her sister and said, “I thought Mama and Daddy were too old to—you know!”
“Me, too, but I guess not,” Miranda replied. “Mama said when a man and woman love each other it’s something they want to do. There are four of us, so they must really like to do it.”
“I can’t imagine wanting to do that,” Beth said with a shudder.
“Me either, but Mama must be right that when you fall in love you do because look at all the babies that are born.” Both girls thought about that and then Miranda added, “We’d better quit talking and get to work.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Adam returned home early one warm afternoon in late September to find Gwyneth sitting forlornly on the verandah steps, her chin resting on her hand.
“Hello, Punkin,” he said stooping over to ruffle her curls. He noted that she was dressed for riding in an old pair of her cousin’s knickerbockers and one of his old shirts. “How come you’re sitting out here all alone?”
“Llywelyn’s playing cricket, Beth is with Aunt Matilda sewing a new dress, Miranda and Emma are in the library doing something for school, and Penny and Kate are in our room playing with their dolls,” Gwyneth replied with a big sigh. “Beth said she’d go riding with me, but then she decided to sew instead,” she added with a sullen scowl. Then her face brightened. “Would you go riding with me, Daddy?”
Adam was tired after the long ride from the mine and he knew that his blood bay gelding, Zephyr, was also, but he saw the longing in those golden-brown eyes so like his own and knew he couldn’t deny her. “Sure,” he said with a grin. “But it will have to be at a walk because Zephyr is tired; he’s not up to any gallops. Just let me say hello to Mama. Then I’ll be right out.”
Bronwen was now nearly in her fifth month, but looked more like she was in her sixth. She was in the kitchen with Nell and Mary preparing supper. He gave her a quick kiss and told her he was going riding with Gwyneth. “I’m worried about her, sweetheart. She just seems so lost now that Llywelyn spends most of his time playing with other boys.”
“I know. The problem is that she’s never really been interested in dolls or hopscotch or jacks like the other girls her age. And unlike Penny, she’s not at all outgoing.” Bronwen sighed. “I wish Annie Dawson could come to school in town. She and Gwyneth are always as thick as thieves when Janet comes for a visit.”
“Unfortunately the distance between the
Adam found Gwyneth waiting impatiently at the paddock. She had gone ahead and saddled Lucky, her chestnut pony. Her face lit up when she saw her father and she swung into the saddle effortlessly. Adam patted Zephyr’s neck and said softly, “I know you’re tired, but I’ll make it up to you, boy,” before saddling him again. At first they rode along in a companionable silence then Gwyneth spoke.
“Daddy, if the new baby is a boy, will you still come riding with me?”
Her question seemed a non sequitur to Adam and he said with a puzzled frown. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I just thought if you had a son, you’d want to ride with him, not me,” Gwyneth replied, and Adam noted she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m sure I’ll want to ride with your new brother or sister, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to ride with you. I’ve always liked riding with you and your sisters. Besides, by the time your new brother or sister is old enough to ride, you’ll be fourteen or fifteen years old. You probably won’t want to ride with your old dad by then,” he added with a wink. He saw her grin slightly, but she still wouldn’t look him in the eye so he said carefully, “Even if the new baby is a boy, it won’t change how I feel about you and your sisters. I love you all very much and so does Mama.”
“One of the girls at school said you’d love a son more. She said that all daddies would rather have sons than daughters,” Gwyneth said quietly, keeping her face turned away from her father.
“That girl was wrong. Before Beth was born, I told Mama I hoped she was a girl. It would be nice to have another male in the family, though, because sometimes I feel outnumbered,” and he saw her smile at that, “but if the new baby is a girl, then I will love her just as much as I love you and Beth and Miranda and Penny.” She looked up at him then and he smiled at her. “I think Zephyr is getting tired, so how about if we head back home?”
As they headed back to the house he asked, “How’s school?”
“It’s all right. Except for arithmetic. I had to miss afternoon recess and redo the problems that I missed.”
“Did you get the correct answer that time?” he asked and she nodded. “You’re an intelligent girl, Punkin. I don’t understand why you have such a problem with arithmetic.”
She shrugged. “I just don’t like it.” She glanced at him through her long lashes. “Can we sing tonight, Daddy? I’ve been practicing Early One Morning on the guitar.”
“As long as you’ve all finished your schoolwork, we’ll sing after supper. Have you finished yours?”
She nodded. “Mama helped me study my spelling words and I finished my report on Julius Caesar.”
“If your sisters haven’t finished their work yet, would you like to play Old Bachelor with Mama and me?
She dimpled. “Too right!”
“We got a letter from Annabelle today,” Bronwen said to Adam as the family gathered for supper.
“I got a letter from Grandpa,” Penny interjected and before Bronwen could reprimand her for speaking without being addressed Beth spoke up.
“We all did. Grandpa wrote that I look prettier each time he sees a new photograph of me,” she added smugly.
“He wrote me that he was proud of me for learning algebra. He said I reminded him of you, Daddy,” Miranda stated happily.
“He wrote me that Uncle Joe said my handwriting is like yours, Mama,” Gwyneth said with a smirk. “And Grandpa said he didn’t like arithmetic when he was in school either.’
“Even if he didn’t like it, I’m sure he tried his best,” Adam said with a little frown. Obviously he was going to have to write Pa about encouraging Gwyneth to think poor work in any subject was acceptable. He added, “I know Uncle Joe was often in trouble because he didn’t do his arithmetic problems at all or didn’t put much effort into them when he did.”
Gwyneth looked sulky at those words and Adam sighed. Pa would say he was getting his just desserts. Although Miranda shared his love of mathematics and learning in general, Gwyneth was most like him in temperament just as she was in appearance.
“Grandpa wrote me that they had firecrackers for the Fourth of July and Uncle Joe and Aunt Annabelle wouldn’t let cousin Benj light any either,” Penny stated.
“Fair dinkum?” Beth asked condescendingly. “Benj is only three years old.” Penny stuck out her tongue at her older sister causing Bronwen to say, “Penny,’ in a warning tone.
“Gwyneth told me she’s finished her schoolwork; what about the rest of you?” Adam asked to change the subject.
“Mr. Thomas is making us memorize Marc Antony’s speech at Caesar’s funeral. I don’t know why he won’t let me learn one of Juliet’s speeches,” Beth said with a pout.
“Especially if Rob could be Romeo,” Gwyneth said with a giggle and Beth blushed a little, while Adam frowned.
“Are you talking about Rob Fisher?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together in a scowl, for Rob Fisher was seventeen.
“Beth’s in love with Rob,” Penny said in a sing-song voice and Gwyneth joined in.
“Penny! Gwyneth! That will be quite enough from the two of you,” Bronwen said firmly. “Apologize to your sister right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Penny said but her eyes gave the lie to her words while Gwyneth’s expression was surly.
“I hope you aren’t behaving in an unladylike fashion,
“Of course not, Mama,” Beth said indignantly.
Miranda decided to speak up. “You do moon over him.” .
“I do not!
“Yes, you do,” Miranda contradicted.
“I do not! You take that back, Miranda!”
“Elizabeth Sian, Miranda Inger!” Adam said sternly. “Unless you want to be sent to your room for the rest of the evening, I suggest you apologize to each other right now.”
“I will not. She owes me an apology for telling lies about me,” Beth sputtered indignantly.
“It’s not a lie. You do moon over Rob. ‘Oh, Rob, you’re so big and strong’,” Miranda cooed in a syrupy voice while batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion.
Before Adam or Miranda could react, Beth slapped her sister as hard as she could and a furious Miranda slapped her back. Adam jumped to his feet. “That will be enough! Miranda, go to your room and wait for me. Beth, come with me.”
“I bet they’re both going to have a necessary talk with Daddy,” Penny whispered to Gwyneth.
“Penny,” Bronwen said in a warning tone and the two younger girls ate the rest of their meal in silence. Beth’s reaction to boys lately had them totally puzzled. Bronwen asked Mary to take Adam’s plate and keep the food warm.
“Mr. Cartwright probably won’t eat it,” Nell said to Mary sadly, looking at the pot roast, carrots and potatoes. “Having to punish those girls takes his appetite away,” and Mary nodded her agreement.
“Daddy said he’d play Old Bachelor with me,” Gwyneth said worriedly as they ate their dessert of rice pudding.
“If he said he would play Old Bachelor then he will,” Bronwen said encouragingly. “Why don’t you and I play a hand first? And would you like to play, Penny?”
“Too right!” Penny exclaimed, nodding her head vigorously.
“All right, you help Nell and Mary clear away and I’ll find the cards,” Bronwen said with a smile.
When Adam finished his “necessary talks” with his two oldest, he found Bronwen and the younger girls playing in the dining room.
“I had Mary keep your tucker warm,” Bronwen said quietly.
“I’m not really hungry,” he replied in an equally quiet tone and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then he said with forced brightness, “So may I play in the next game?”
The four of them spent a pleasant evening playing Old Bachelor and Dr. Busby and then singing their favorite songs. Adam hadn’t forgotten that Gwyneth wanted to play Early One Morning on his guitar.
“That was excellent, Gwyneth,” he complimented her after she finished.
“You played almost as good as Daddy,” Penny added and Gwyneth smiled happily.
“You did a marvelous job, Gwyneth, but now it’s time for you and Penny to go to bed,” Bronwen said with a smile.
After they’d tucked all the girls in and kissed them good night, Bronwen said, “Shall we see what Annabelle wrote? I’ve been curious but waited until we could read it together.”
“Let’s get ready for bed first. It’s been a long day,” Adam replied rubbing the back of his neck to relieve the tension.
He quickly removed his own clothing, slid between the sheets and watched Bronwen undress. Even after thirteen years of marriage, he still enjoyed watching her remove her layers of clothing. She’d already gotten out of her loose fitting gown with its high waist and hung it in her wardrobe. The next to go were her petticoat and cotton stockings. Although there were maternity corsets, when she was pregnant with Beth her doctor father had advised against them and Adam backed him up, so Bronwen only wore a silk undervest and loose fitting cambric drawers. She removed them and went to get one of her cotton nightgowns from the chest of drawers. He drank in the sight of her body, swollen with his child, feeling a primitive surge of gratification at the evidence of his virility.
“Why don’t you forego the nightgown tonight,” he suggested.
“What, and deprive you of the pleasure of removing it,” she replied with a teasing glint in her eye and he chuckled. The last step in her evening ritual was to unpin her braids, so they fell down her back past her hips. Freeing her hair from its braids was something else Adam enjoyed doing as part of their lovemaking so she never did it herself.
After she got into bed beside him, she reached over and got the letter from her bedside table and handed it to him.
Dear Adam and Bronwen,
After we read your latest letter I felt I must write and
inform you that here in the
I do know that Miranda wouldn’t be able to visit home while she attended college here, but she could spend summer vacations with us. (The railroad has improved travel so much that what was impossible when you attended Harvard, Adam, is now accomplished with relative ease.) We would all love a chance to get to know her better.
It is, of course, your decision, but I felt I must make you
aware that there are colleges for women.
(In fact, the
With affection,
Annabelle
“I want Miranda to have a chance to attend college,” Bronwen stated, “but not to see her for four or even five years! That’s just too long.”
“It’s ironic,” Adam said slowly. “When Pa agreed to let me attend Harvard, he knew he wouldn’t be able to see me for at least four years. If Miranda really wants to go, I can’t deny her.”
“Oh, so I’m to be the villain,” Bronwen said tartly.
“Sweetheart,” he said, gently putting his arm around her and holding her close, “we have years before we need to make a decision, and we don’t need to mention the matter to Miranda yet.” He paused and said thoughtfully, “If she really is interested in attending college in the United States,” and Bronwen gave a little snort of incredulity at the notion that Miranda wouldn’t be interested, “then we should see about sending her to the Girls’ Latin School in Boston the year she turns seventeen. We can see how she fares away from home for one year. I must admit,” he added with a little grin, “the idea of Miranda attending the Harvard Annex appeals to me.” Bronwen just shook her head, her melancholy clearly evident on her expressive features. She knew she was going to have to resign herself to not seeing Miranda for years. If Pa could do it, then so can I, she thought to herself with a sigh.
“Let me see if I can make you feel better,” he murmured softly before capturing her mouth with his own and letting his hands cup her swollen breasts.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Adam and Miranda’s joint birthday coincided with the beginning of the wet season, which lasted November through March, and November 14 began with a thunderstorm that showed no signs of abating as the day progressed. Bronwen was now well into her sixth month and she was definitely bigger than she had been with any of the girls. Adam, Nell and Mary conspired together to keep her participation in Miranda’s birthday party and the family dinner to an absolute minimum She allowed the other two women to handle the cooking, but insisted on baking the birthday cake since she was the best baker of the three, allowing Beth to help. She baked a triple layer cake with rich, butter cream frosting and decorated it with pink rosebuds.
The week before the party all the females, except Bronwen, had been pressed into service giving the house a thorough cleaning. The hardwood floors were all scrubbed. All the furniture gleamed from fresh applications of beeswax and there was not a speck of dust to be found anywhere. The green and tan Aubusson carpet in the drawing room had been taken outside and thoroughly beaten. (The girls had actually enjoyed that and luckily there was one day that week when it didn’t rain.) Because she could do it sitting down, Bronwen cleaned and polished all the oil lamps and the silver and Penny helped.
Since both the boys and girls were going to be invited to Beth’s birthday party in January, Bronwen and Adam (under protest) had agreed they should all be invited to Miranda’s birthday party as well. Miranda chose the games that would be played: Charades, Twenty Questions, Dumb Crambo and Taboo. Adam and Bronwen both noted with a smile that these games all involved thinking. Beth tried to persuade her sister to choose Blindman’s Wand or Deerstalker instead of Twenty Questions, but was told she could play those games at her party if she wished.
The afternoon of the birthday party, the rain was still pouring, so each child arrived at the party with a dripping umbrella, which he or she deposited on the verandah before entering the house. Miranda was there to greet her guests and Nell or Mary escorted them to the drawing room. Adam had designed all the rooms in their house to be light and airy and the drawing room was no exception with its white plastered walls and dark green trim. The large settee was upholstered in a green and white striped brocade that complimented the room as did the two dark green brocade arm chairs that faced the settee and the two wing chairs upholstered in the same green and white brocade as the settee. Since the rain was pouring straight down, both the French doors and the large window were open so the air could circulate, for the temperature had reached ninety-eight degrees.
By the time Adam and Rhys returned from the mine that evening, the rain had slackened somewhat. Adam stopped at the Davies house first to get Gwyneth and Penny, who’d spent the afternoon with their