As always, I want to
thank Larkspur1 and Vickie Batzka for reading draft
copies of this story. Their help is
invaluable. I must also thank Lissa Brown for generously allowing me to reference events
in her WHN: Vengeance.
In this series of stories
beginning with My True-Love Hath My Heart, I have used the events set forth in the Bonanza sequels, The
Return and Under Attack as my
foundation. (If Adam ended up in
Note:
I realize in at least one
episode it is stated that Joe was born in the ranch house; however, in The
Philip Deidesheimer Story it is stated that Adam designed the ranch house. As I wrote in my story Veritas, in the face
of contradiction, I choose to believe Adam designed the ranch house when he
returned from college and Joe was born in the Cartwrights’ original home on the
Ponderosa.
“The Marriage of True Minds”
Part 2
by Deborah Grant
July 2004
Chapter 1
“That’s a beautiful moon,” Adam Cartwright said to his wife, Bronwen, as they walked back to their stateroom after saying goodnight to their ten-year-old son and tucking him in bed. Adam was over a foot taller than Bronwen so as they walked together, he had an arm about her shoulders while she put an arm around his waist, and he consciously shortened his stride to match hers. “Do you want to go to bed now, or would you like to take a stroll in the moonlight?”
“I think I’d like to take a stroll in the moonlight if a certain handsome gentleman would care to accompany me,” she replied with a smile.
“He’d be a fool to turn down an invitation from such a lovely lady,” he said, returning her smile. They walked along in silence until he said thoughtfully, “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I was just thinking how wonderful it will be to see Pa and Joe again and imagining the look on Pa’s face when he sees his great-grandchildren,” she replied.
“I am so thankful Dafydd offered to let Beth and the children come with us,” he added. “It will mean so much to Pa to see Elen and Huw.”
“We are fortunate to have such a kind, generous son-in-law,” she said with a smile.
“I don’t think I could have been that generous,” he replied thoughtfully. “Six months is a long time to be separated. Those six to eight week long roundtrips between Sydney and Cloncurry were hard enough to bear.”
“They were hard on me as well,” she said softly, and he squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “But Beth hasn’t seen her sister for five years.”
“Not to mention she didn’t want to miss the chance to be her Matron of Honor,” he added. “We’ll just have to keep her so busy she doesn’t have much time to miss Dafydd.”
She smiled at that and shook her head. “Beth will manage. At least her husband isn’t going off to war and she doesn’t have to worry about never seeing him again.”
“I am appalled that there is a good chance McKinley will
declare war on
“If the
“Oh yes, very noble except I think what’s behind this war
is a desire to acquire colonies for an American empire,” he said
cynically. “But I don’t want to waste
such a beautiful night talking about war and politics. I’d rather think how wonderful it will be
when our family is reunited in
“Yes,” she replied, hugging him. “It will be marvelous when we’re all together as a family even if only for a few weeks. And I’m looking forward to meeting our prospective son-in-law. I fancy one who’s a professor at a prestigious college.”
“Bit of a snob, are you?” he said teasingly and she grinned. “From everything Miranda has written as well as Pa and even Joe, I’m sure we’ll both like him. And I think he’s going to make Miranda as happy as Dafydd has made Beth.”
“And you’ve made me,” she said softly. He leaned down to kiss her then—a long, intimate kiss. When it ended and he straightened, he said with a wink, “I should have married a taller woman.” They both laughed softly but then he sobered and added, “Gwyneth is going to have to decide soon if our third son-in-law will be an engineer or a newspaperman.”
a a a
Gwyneth’s eighteenth birthday was only a week away so Adam wasn’t surprised when Douglas Campbell turned up at the office of Cartwright & Davies Mining Company one afternoon. It was not an encounter to which he’d been looking forward, however.
“I need to talk with Chynoweth,” Rhys said tactfully as
he headed out the door, for he was also sure of the purpose of
“Mr. Cartwright,” the young man began very earnestly, “I know you’re aware of my feelings for Gwyneth and since she will be eighteen in a few days, I wanted to ask your permission to propose to her.”
Adam sighed just a little. “You have my permission,
“I’ve waited almost two years,” the young man replied. “I won’t wait any longer.” He looked at the older man searchingly. “You don’t think she’ll have me, do you?” he asked slowly.
“I think she hasn’t made up her mind between you and Mark,” Adam answered quietly.
“That’s because she saw him again,” the younger man
said bitterly. “If you hadn’t allowed
her to go to
“Mark will be returning to Cloncurry eventually and if he is the one Gwyneth truly loves, she needs to decide that before she marries you, not after.”
“If she were married to me, she’d forget all about Mark Pentreath,” the young man insisted stubbornly and Adam could only shake his head.
“We’re having a birthday supper just for the family,”
he said gently. “If you want to see her,
I’d come by after
The night, as he brushed Bronwen’s hair before they
retired, he said quietly, “
“Oh dear, I suppose he came to get your permission to ask Gwyneth to marry him?”
He nodded as he faced his wife in the mirror. “I tried to suggest he wait but he would have none of it. It was so different when Dafydd asked for Beth’s hand because I knew she loved him.”
“I wish
“Beth is the one I would have expected to be in this situation, not my quiet girl,” Adam said gravely.
“I wish there was something we could do to help her,” Bronwen said sadly as they slipped between the sheets.
“But there’s not,” he replied, adding with a wry grin, “I’m glad that it will be years before A.C. will be interested in the opposite sex.”
“Too right!” Bronwen replied emphatically.
“I, on the other hand,” he said as he put his arms around her and drew her close, “am very interested in a certain member of the opposite sex,” which he proceeded to demonstrate to their mutual satisfaction.
Gwyneth’s birthday dinner was very pleasant and seventeen-month-old Elen insisted on helping “Genth” blow out her candles, much to her uncle’s amusement.
“You couldn’t even blow out the one candle on your cake, Elen,” he said smugly.
“She did just as well as you did with your first birthday cake,” his oldest sister retorted, and Gwyneth added, “She’s right, A.C. You would have stuck your fingers right in the flame if Mama hadn’t stopped you.”
Adam, who was holding his granddaughter on his lap, said, “Elen seems to have the idea now. Don’t you, precious?” and the little girl nodded solemnly.
“Come here, Elen, and help Auntie Gwyneth blow out her candles,” Gwyneth said, holding out her hand to her niece, who wriggled off her grandpa’s lap. Together they blew out all the candles.
Dafydd and Beth left early to put Elen to bed, but the rest of the family was playing charades in the library when Mary came to tell them Mr. Douglas was here to see Miss Gwyneth.
“I suppose he bought me a gift even though I told him he shouldn’t,” she said with a sigh. “Is it all right if he joins us?”
“I think you need to talk with him in private,” Adam said quietly. They all saw the stricken expression on her face and only A.C. was clueless as to why she suddenly looked so apprehensive.
“There’s no point in putting off the inevitable,” Bronwen advised. Gwyneth nodded almost imperceptibly and left the room.
“I think it’s time we headed home,” Matilda said and Rhys concurred so they exited through the backdoor.
“It’s time you were getting ready for bed,” Bronwen told A.C.
“Will you read me a chapter of Robin Hood, Daddy?”
“I’m going to wait and talk with your sister, so Mama will read tonight, all right?”
“I guess,” the boy replied but he was obviously disappointed.
Gwyneth found
“It’s beautiful, Douglas, but I can’t accept it.” She tried to give it back, but he captured her left hand and slid the ring on her finger before going down on one knee.
“It’s more than a birthday gift; it’s an engagement ring. Oh, Gwyneth, you are more precious to me than any jewel. I want to spend the rest of our lives showing you how much I love you. Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
“I’m sorry, Douglas, but I can’t marry you,” she said and her eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t tell me you love Mark Pentreath. You love me; I know you do.” He rose to his feet and took her in his arms and kissed her. At first she resisted, but gradually she began to return his kiss. When they broke apart, he said triumphantly, “Don’t tell me that you don’t love me.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t love you; I said I couldn’t marry you.” She stepped away and tugged the ring off her finger and put it in his large, callused hand before running from the room down the hall, leaving him alone and desolate. The despondent young man quietly left the drawing room and slipped unnoticed from the house, the box that had held the symbol of his ideal future clutched tightly in the palm of his hand.
Adam was pacing the length of the library when he heard the sound of running footsteps and strode quickly to the doorway. Gwyneth saw him, and sobbing, “Oh Daddy!” ran straight to the strong arms that had always been a refuge and comfort throughout her childhood.
He just held her at first and rubbed her back soothingly. When she cried herself out, he put an arm around her shoulders and led her to one of the comfortable brown leather chairs. He sat down and held her on his lap just as he used to do when she was very young.
“Oh, Daddy! I’m so confused,” she replied as her tears
began to fall again. She laid her head against her father’s shoulder, and Adam
kissed her forehead tenderly. “I know I love Mark—until I’m with
He sighed. “I wish I could give you the answer, Punkin, but I’m no wiser in affairs of the heart than you are. I was around the same age you are now the first time I fell in love, and when she rejected my proposal, I was devastated. I met her years later and realized her rejection was the best thing that ever happened to me. There were one or two other times I thought I was in love, but something always prevented me from marrying the woman. A few years before I met your mama, I became involved with a young widow, who had a little daughter. Your grandpa tried to warn me that I might be more in love with the idea of being a husband and father than I was with her, but at first I refused to listen. We’d set a date and I was building a house for her and her little girl, but she fell in love with someone else and the engagement was broken. Even though I realized by then that the love I felt for her was more friendship than romantic, it still hurt. Then I met your mama and thanked God I was still unmarried.”
“So you knew Mama was the one as soon as you met her?” Gwyneth asked very seriously as she sat up and gazed into his eyes intently.
He sighed. “Not exactly. I liked her immediately and I was certainly attracted to her, but for a long time I told myself all I felt was friendship. After our first kiss, it became harder and harder to convince myself of that. Then there was the fact I knew your mama was falling in love with me almost from the moment we met.”
“You can always tell what Mama is thinking and feeling,” Gwyneth agreed with a little half smile, so like her father’s.
He dimpled and hugged his daughter briefly before saying very seriously, “The only advice I can give you, Punkin, is not to make a decision until you are certain which man you want to spend your life with. And I’m afraid you must accept the fact one of them will be hurt. But no one really dies of a broken heart. ‘Men have died and worms have eaten them, but not for love,’” he quoted.
She nodded and then said slowly, “Melanie has some
friends in
He was silent for a moment and then said thoughtfully,
“We’d miss you very much, but I think it might help you make your
decision. Let’s talk to Mama about
it.” He smiled his little half smile and
added, “If she agrees, then we’ll ask Melanie to write her friends and see what
they say. If they’re agreeable, you and
I will travel to
She kissed his cheek and said softly, “Thank you, Daddy, for being so understanding.”
A few weeks later Melanie came to the Cartwrights’ house one evening with a letter from her friends, the Overtons. The two young women sat on the swing on the Cartwrights’ verandah and Melanie thought again how lucky her friend was to have such a lovely home. “Mabel and Fred write they’d be pleased to have you work for them, and they enclosed a letter to you,” she said handing it to Gwyneth, who took it eagerly.
Dear Miss Cartwright,
We would be delighted to have you work at our bookstore. Melanie has written about you and your whole family so often that we feel we already know you all.
While our shop is on
We know Cloncurry is back of Bourke so we won’t expect you until around the end of May.
Sincerely,
Mabel Overton
“I know you’ll like Mabel and Fred,” Melanie said encouragingly to her friend..
“Part of me is terrified at the idea of living in
“I think it will be a good experience for you,” Melanie replied. Her feelings about Gwyneth’s departure were mixed. She would miss her friend; there were no other young women in Cloncurry who shared her love of books. However, she couldn’t help hoping that if Gwyneth were absent, Douglas Campbell might seek her out since she was Gwyneth’s friend. Perhaps if they spent more time together, he would begin to see her as more than just Gwyneth’s friend.
Gwyneth sighed.
“I’m not looking forward to telling
“No,” Melanie said slowly, “but it would be easier for you if you wrote him a letter instead of telling him face to face.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Melanie,” Gwyneth replied and her relief was palpable.
After A.C. had gone to bed, Gwyneth talked with her
parents about Melanie’s suggestion. “I
could leave the letter with Uncle Rhys and Aunt Matilda and ask them to give it
to
“I think it would be better if you spoke with him,” Bronwen began, but seeing the stricken look on her daughter’s face she sighed and said, “I suppose leaving him a letter is all right, and I know your aunt will be glad to help.”
“We’ll go on upstairs so you can have some privacy,” Adam said, and as he and Bronwen headed up the stairs he commented anxiously, “I hope we aren’t making a mistake, letting her move so far from home.”
“She’ll be apples, cariad,” Bronwen said soothingly.
As soon as her parents left, Gwyneth sat at her father’s desk and began to write.
Dear Douglas,
By the time you receive this letter, I will be on my way to
You may write to me; if you give your letters to my parents,
they will see that I get them. I don’t
want you to try and see me, Douglas. I
know you are an honorable man and that you’ll respect my wishes. I will write to both you and Mark to tell you
about my life in
I am truly sorry if I am hurting you, Douglas, but I have to be certain I make the right choice.
Sincerely,
Gwyneth
When she finished, she selected another piece of stationary and started writing.
Dearest Mark,
This is a very difficult letter to write, but I care for you
too much not to be totally honest with you.
Today
Some friends of Melanie who own a bookstore in
Gwyneth
Adam drew Mercury up just outside the cemetery and slowly dismounted. He patted the chestnut gelding’s neck affectionately before ground tying him. The horse whickered and he said quietly, “I won’t be too long, boy.” He carefully removed the two large leather bottles that hung on either side of his saddle. He carried them unerringly to a well-tended grave and uncorked each bottle in turn, watering a rosebush growing on the grave. That done, he knelt and carefully removed any weeds growing there and checked the leaves of the bush for any sign of disease or pests. Satisfied with his handiwork, he dusted off his hands and stood up—perhaps a bit more stiffly than he had a year earlier when he’d planted the rosebush—and sat on the bench that had been placed by the gravestone.
He let his fingers trace the chiseled letters that
spelled ‘Penelope Jane Cartwright, beloved daughter’ as he spoke. “I won’t be able to visit you for a few
weeks, Kitten, but Uncle Rhys has promised to water your rosebush. Mama, A.C. and I are going to be taking
Gwyneth to
“Tomorrow I’m going to ride here with Gwyneth so she
can say goodbye to you. We don’t know
how long she is going to be living in
He realized the sky was turning orange and apricot so he stood and said softly, “Goodbye, Kitten. I’ll visit when I return. Always remember Daddy loves you.”
The four Cartwrights arrived in
“I don’t know, Jackeroo. We’ll have to ask the Overtons,” Adam replied with a little grin.
They eventually found the bookstore and hurried inside, thankful to escape the rain, which was falling in sheets. There were only a few customers inside and a thin woman they guessed must be Mrs. Overton walked toward them smiling.
“G’day. I’m Mabel Overton and I believe you must be the Cartwrights?”
“Yes, I’m Adam Cartwright,” he replied, bowing slightly. “This is my wife, Bronwen, and our daughter, Gwyneth,” and Gwyneth smiled shyly. He then put his hand on A.C.’s shoulder saying, “This is our son, Adam.”
“But you can call me A.C.,” the little boy said with an engaging grin after bowing with a flourish.
“Ah, the lad who nearly burned down the schoolhouse,” Mabel said with a mischievous grin of her own.
“How did you know about that?” the child asked in amazement.
“Oh, Miss Andrews writes about all the interesting things her students get up to. Starting a fire with a magnifying glass was definitely one of the most interesting.”
A.C. looked nervously at his daddy and unconsciously rubbed his posterior, remembering how it had stung after that particular “necessary talk”. Mabel smiled at the child and then his parents. “She wrote that you are one of her brightest students.” At those words the boy dimpled and his daddy added dryly, “Yes, he’s a very bright boy who needs to learn to think things through and not be so impulsive.”
“And his daddy needs to remember he is only eight years old,” Bronwen replied tartly, as she and her husband exchanged silent, but telling, looks over their youngest’s dark head.
“Here we are talking and I imagine Gwyneth is anxious to see where she’ll be living. Since the rain has made business so slow, my husband can mind the store on his own. I’ll come with you and show you where we live and arrange for you to take a look at the two empty flats in our building. The building is very modern and each flat has running water and a water closet.”
“What a ripper!” A.C. exclaimed. “I used a water closet when we went to
“A.C.!” his mother said with flaming cheeks.
“Well, I did,” he replied indignantly.
“Mama means it’s not polite to discuss water closets,” Adam said, trying not to smile at his son’s candor.
“But
it was beaut. And it didn’t stink like a
dunny.”
“Young man, that will be quite enough from you, or we’ll be having a necessary talk,” Adam said sternly, his amusement vanishing with his son’s rude remark, while Bronwen and Gwyneth blushed. Mabel had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing at the boy’s honesty.
Gwyneth fell in love with the flats in the Overtons’ building on sight. Not only did they have running water and a water closet, but they also had built-in closets for hanging clothes and storage, and each room had large windows that provided cross-ventilation. There was only one difficulty: The flats were unfurnished.
“There are some furnished flats closer to the river, but to be frank, they aren’t as nice and I don’t think the neighborhood is suitable for a young woman on her own,” Mabel stated.
“Looks like our next stop is to buy you some furniture, Punkin,” Adam said.
“There’s a better selection in
“I don’t wanna look at furniture,” A.C. whined earning a frown from his daddy.
“The rain has let up and I could take A.C. to visit the Botanic Gardens,” Mabel offered. “They’re not far from the bookstore and I love to visit there so it’s not an imposition.”
“Please, Daddy,” A.C. begged.
“I’d better not hear from Mrs. Overton that you misbehaved,” Adam stated and a grinning A.C. replied, “Oh, I won’t. I promise.”
As they rode the ferry back across the
Bronwen, whose enthusiasm had flagged while her fastidious husband and daughter discussed the merits of various pieces of furniture, stated, “Now we have to buy you some pots and pans, china, silver and linens, but I think that can wait until tomorrow.”
“That’s right, we need to rescue Mrs. Overton,” her
husband said with a smirk. Gwyneth
grinned, but Bronwen let her husband know that, like Queen
When they arrived at the bookstore, they were surprised to learn Mrs. Overton and A.C. weren’t back yet. However, all three were soon browsing among the shelves. They hadn’t long to wait before an excited A.C. and Mrs. Overton returned. Not wanting to disturb the customers, she ushered the Cartwrights to the back room.
“It was beaut!” A.C. exclaimed enthusiastically as soon as he’d greeted his parents and sister. “There were all kinds of plants and trees. There were even trees that cry.”
Seeing the confusion on the other faces, Mabel said, “A.C. is referring to the grove of Weeping figs.”
“Weeping means crying, doesn’t it?” A.C. asked.
“Yes, it does,” Adam replied and, not for the first time, was impressed at his son’s intelligence.
“Then we watched a cricket game and when it was over, Mrs. Overton showed me Parliament House.”
“I hope you thanked Mrs. Overton,” Bronwen inserted gently and Mabel said with a smile, “Yes, he did. He was very well behaved.”
The boy then turned to his father. “Mrs. Overton says they play cricket at the gardens every day. Could we go tomorrow, Daddy? Please?”
Before Adam could open his mouth, Bronwen said, “I know you aren’t interested in shopping for pots and pans and such, so why not go with A.C.? After Gwyneth and I finish, we could join you. I would like to see the garden and it would be nice to watch a cricket match.”
“Okay, Jackeroo, we’ll go watch some cricket tomorrow. But before we do that, we need to visit a bank and open an account for your sister.”
“Do we have to, Daddy?” A.C. whined because it sounded very dull.
While Adam frowned, Bronwen quickly suggested, “You and I can do some sightseeing while Gwyneth and Daddy do their business at the bank.” Her son’s face brightened and her husband nodded his acceptance of her idea.
The Cartwrights took the Overtons to supper that evening, which gave them a chance to talk with Gwyneth about her duties. They agreed she could have tomorrow and the next day to get settled in her flat and spend time with her family and then she would begin work. After A.C. went to bed that night, Adam sat down with Gwyneth in their suite and helped her plan her budget.
“Now, I am going to arrange to have the interest from your trust fund transferred to your bank account here quarterly,” Adam explained to his daughter, who listened intently. “But you should live on the wages the Overtons pay you and view the money from your trust fund as something to use in case of an emergency.”
“I understand,” Gwyneth said solemnly.
“You’ll be responsible for paying your own bills and you’ll have to use the arithmetic you hate so much,” he added with a wink, “to make sure you aren’t overdrawn. But if you follow this budget, you should be fine.”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised earnestly.
“I know you will be.” He grinned at his wife, who’d been listening and offering an occasional suggestion as they’d devised the budget, adding, “Luckily, you take after me when it comes to spending habits and not your mama.”
“You’re up yourself, Adam Cartwright,” Bronwen replied with a wink. “Fortunately, our daughter has inherited my modest, unassuming nature.” Gwyneth simply shook her head while her parents shared a laugh.
“Seriously, Gwyneth fach, your daddy is right about the importance of making a budget and sticking to it,” Bronwen said, her expression now deadly serious.
“Don’t worry,” Gwyneth assured her parents.
“We know you’ll be just fine and the Overtons are just one floor below you if you ever need them,” Adam said, as much to reassure himself and Bronwen as their daughter.
In addition to watching cricket matches and waiting for
Gwyneth’s furniture to be delivered, the four Cartwrights managed to do some
sightseeing the following two days. Adam
in particular admired some of the buildings in
The night before Adam, Bronwen and A.C. were to return to Cloncurry, Gwyneth cooked supper for them in her flat.
“What a ripper!” A.C. commented as he saw his sister’s flat with her new furniture for the first time. He burst into giggles when he sat on the new sofa and immediately sank down in the overstuffed cushions. “It feels like it’s trying to swallow me,” he got out between giggles.
“It was your sister’s choice,” Adam said dryly. “I think I’ll just sit on one of the dining room chairs.”
“I’ll sit with you, A.C.,” Bronwen said although she would have preferred to sit on a dining room chair as well.
“Can I have a flat when I’m grown up like Gwyneth?” A.C. asked hopefully.
“Let’s talk about that when you’re Gwyneth’s age,” his mama replied. “Do you need any help, Gwyneth?” she called.
“No, Mama,” Gwyneth called back from her kitchen. “Supper is nearly ready.”
“It smells delicious,” Adam commented.
“The main course is Yankee pot roast because I know it’s your favorite,” Gwyneth said, sticking her head into the living room and smiling at her daddy.
“Mine, too,” A.C. added enthusiastically.
“I’ve prepared artichokes in butter sauce as a side dish because I know it’s one of Mama’s favorites. For dessert we’re having bread pudding with a vanilla sauce.” She smiled at her little brother. “Would you set the table for me, A.C.?”
“Right,” the boy said cheerfully because it was one of his tasks at home. He got Gwyneth’s new Haviland china with its design of pink roses on a white background from her kitchen dresser and placed the dinner plates on the dining room table, which Gwyneth had already covered with a lace tablecloth. Then he got the pink-tinted glasses and her new silverware and put them on the table with the neatly folded damask napkins.
“The table is set,” he said walking into the tiny kitchen, which contained a small stove, a sink and an icebox. “Stone the crows, your kitchen sure is small.”
“This is a flat, not a house,” Gwyneth reminded him, adding with a smile, “Thanks for helping. Could you tell Mama and Daddy that supper is ready while I put the food on the table?” He grinned and left calling, “Mama! Daddy! Gwyneth says supper’s ready!”
“A.C!” his mother scolded as she rose to come to the table. “You mustn’t yell like you do at home. We’re only in the next room and you must remember there are other people who live in the building, too.”
“Sorry, Mama. I didn’t mean to yell,” he said contritely. Bronwen smiled and replied, “No harm done. What a nice job you did setting the table! Don’t Gwyenth’s new things look well together?”
As the four of them gathered round the table, Gwyneth asked hesitantly, “Could we sing grace?” We haven’t in years and I miss it.”
“You’re right. I
don’t think we’ve sung grace since Miranda went to
“It’s a wonderful idea,” Bronwen said putting her arm around her tall daughter’s waist and hugging her.
“Sing grace?” A.C. said in puzzlement but his daddy squeezed his shoulder and said, “We used to do it when you were very small. Maybe it will come back to you. If not, you can just listen.”
They held hands and Adam, Bronwen and Gwyneth sang an Elizabethan grace in canon. As they passed the food around the table, A.C. announced, “I wanna learn to sing grace.”
“Daddy and I will teach you on the ride home,” his mama promised.
The food was delicious and Bronwen insisted on helping her daughter clean up.
“A.C. and I will dry the dishes if you ladies wash them,” Adam suggested, earning a pout from his son. The pout was replaced by a grin when Adam added, “When I was your age, your grandpa washed the dishes and Uncle Hoss and I always dried them and put them away.”
They sat in the tiny living room and talked until they could see the sun begin to sink below the horizon. “I suppose we need to be leaving so we can catch the last ferry,” Adam said regretfully.
“Yes, but before we leave, I have a request for Gwyneth,” Bronwen said quietly. “I don’t know when we’ll get to hear you sing again, so I would like you to sing a song for us now.”
“Of course, Mama,” Gwyneth replied with just a slight catch in her voice. “What would you like me to sing?”
“Sweet Hour of Prayer,” her mother answered gently and Gwyneth nodded saying, “I want you all to sing the second verse with me.” As she began to sing quietly in her sweet, melodious voice, her parents felt their eyes fill with tears.
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of
prayer!
That calls me from a world of care,
And bids me at my Father’s throne
Make all my wants and wishes known.
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief
And oft escaped the tempter’s snare
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!
Bronwen’s creamy mezzo-soprano and Adam’s velvet baritone harmonized while A.C.’s slightly flat alto joined Gwyneth on the melody of the second verse.
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of
prayer!
The joys I feel, the bliss I share,
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for thy return!
With such I hasten to the place
Where God my Savior shows His face,
And gladly take my station there,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!
Then Gwyneth’s rich, clear voice sang alone:
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of
prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.
And since He bids me seek His face,
Believe His Word and trust His grace,
I’ll cast on Him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!
“When you are lonely or sad, I want you to think of the words to that hymn,” Bronwen said gently as she placed her arm around Gwyneth’s waist and hugged her.
“I will, Mama. I promise,” Gwyneth said shakily, as she bent down to kiss her mother’s cheek.
“You’ll be in our prayers and our thoughts, Punkin,” Adam said as he hugged her tightly to him, thinking of the first time he had held her in his arms.
“I’m gonna miss you, Gwyneth,” A.C. said, blinking very fast to hold back the tears that threatened after he’d hugged his sister.
With a cheery wave and a brave smile, Gwyneth slowly closed the door behind her family. As she stood at the window and watched as their figures disappeared from sight, she made no effort to check the tears that rolled down her face.
Chapter 2
“Mornin’, Mr. Ben,” the Ponderosa’s walleyed cook said as he brought Ben his first cup of coffee. “Gonna be a fine day.”
“Thank you, Buckshot,” Ben replied as he took the steaming mug. “I think you’re right. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Now, I made ya a good breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast and ham. Ya need to keep your strength up fer the ride into town,” the cook stated gruffly.
“I’ll do it justice; I promise,” Ben replied with a hint of a smile.
“I planned a big dinner fer tonight,” the cook added in his gravelly voice. “I remember Benj likes roast pork, so I’m fixin’ that. Miss Sarah likes coleslaw slaw so we’re having that along with sweet taters.”
“You haven’t forgotten that Miranda asked you to bake a cherry pie?” Ben asked a bit anxiously.
“No, Boss. Funny though. I don’t recollect her bein’ especially fond of cherry pie.”
“I imagine her friend Mr. Gordon is partial to it,” Ben replied, very anxious to meet this young man.
He did do justice to Buckshot’s breakfast as promised and then he waited impatiently for his foreman, Bronc Evans, to tell him the surrey was hitched up and ready to go. The minutes seemed to crawl before the craggy-featured foreman came through the front door.
“Horses are hitched to the surrey, Boss,” the tall
foreman said with a grin. “We got us a
nice day fer a drive into
“It surely will,” Ben repeated. “Let’s be off. We don’t want to get there after the train’s pulled into the station.”
They arrived at the train station with time to spare (just as Bronc had known they would). Bronc watered the horses while Ben waited with mounting anticipation. Finally the train roared into the station and Joe descended the step, turning to assist a little girl with golden-brown curls, dressed in a white sailor blouse with navy trim and a pleated navy skirt. Sarah has grown so much Ben thought with a pang of regret for the two years they’d been separated.
Sarah was followed immediately by a skinny boy with
straw-colored hair, who was wearing an
He walked toward them slowly, conscious of Bronc at his side since he’d refused to bring the cane both Dr. Pascoe and Paul Martin had recommended.
Sarah was the first to spot him. “Look, there’s Grandpa!” she shouted excitedly and started to run toward him, but her daddy caught her arm.
“Let’s let Grandpa come to us,” he said gently. “And don’t hug him too hard, okay?”
“Okay,” the little girl said, obviously a bit confused.
“Oh, he looks so much frailer now,” Miranda whispered to William.
“Remember, you said he is eighty-three, love,” he whispered back. “I think he looks remarkably fit for a man of his years.”
Benj said nothing, but like his cousin he was alarmed at how much his grandpa had aged since he’d last seen him.
“Oh Grandpa,” Sarah said when Ben walked toward her and held out his arms for a hug. Remembering her daddy’s words, she hugged him gingerly. Ben smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners just as she remembered, and said, “I won’t break, Sugar,” so she hugged him harder. “Oh my, you are so grown up,” he commented wistfully.
“I’m nine now,” she replied proudly and he smiled warmly before turning to his grandson, who held out his hand formally. With a sigh, Ben resisted the urge to pull the boy into his arms and settled for a handshake. “I’m so glad to see you, Grandpa,” he said stiffly, but Ben could see the happiness in his pale blue eyes.
“And I’m happy to see you, Benj. I’m looking forward to going fishing with you.”
“I’d like that,” the boy said with a grin, his reserve beginning to melt, and his grandpa squeezed his shoulder affectionately. Then Ben smiled at his older granddaughter.
“You look lovelier each time I see you, Miranda,” he said after hugging her and she dimpled.
“Grandpa, allow me to present my friend, William Gordon. William, my grandfather, Ben Cartwright.”
“I am honored to meet you, sir,” William said, taking
Ben’s hand in a firm grip, which pleased the older man. “I imagine your granddaughter has told you
I’m an historian and I’m hoping we can talk about your experiences as one of
the first settlers in western
“I’d like to hear more about those days, too,” Miranda added, taking her grandpa’s hand and linking their fingers.”
“All right. But you let me know if I start boring you.”
“I don’t think there’s any chance of that,” William
stated with a warm smile that lit up his face.
Ben’s dark eyes twinkled as he returned the smile, thinking to himself
that he liked this respectful young man.
He turned towards Miranda and gave her a wink of approval. She squeezed his hand happily, and Ben’s
heart was warmed by the memory of his beloved
Sarah sat by her grandpa in the surrey and talked
almost nonstop on the ride home. Miranda
and William sat in the backseat and she pointed out various landmarks; no one
could see they were holding hands. Joe
and Benj sat side by side in the front seat in a rather strained silence. Benj wanted to see his grandpa and the
Ponderosa; he wanted to spend more time with his dad. However, he felt disloyal leaving his mama
all alone in
As they approached the ranch house, William said admiringly, “Your father designed the house?”
“That’s right,” Miranda said proudly. “He spent his last two summers at Harvard
working for an architectural firm in
“He certainly had, or I suppose I should say has, talent,” William remarked and was rewarded by a dazzling smile.
As soon as Joe drove the surrey into the yard, Sarah started to jump down, but Ben caught her arm. “Wait until your daddy can help you down, Sugar.” He saw her lip come out in a pout and added, “Your cousin is waiting for Mr. Gordon to help her.” He frowned slightly as William put his hands around Miranda’s waist and lifted her off the seat, and then he twirled her around before setting her, giggling, on her feet.
“Twirl me around, too, Daddy,” Sarah exclaimed and both William and Miranda’s cheeks reddened.
“Sure thing, baby girl,” Joe replied winking at the young couple. He twirled Sarah around twice while she squealed her delight. As soon as he set her on her feet, she heard the sound of horses neighing and spotted her beloved golden dun pony in the corral.
“Applesauce! Oh, Applesauce, I’ve missed you so,” she exclaimed running toward the corral. Miranda recognized her grullo Quarter Horse, Guerrero, and taking William’s hand walked with him to the corral. Benj didn’t see his pony and looked at his father questioningly.
“You’re twelve now, Pardner, so I think it’s time you trade your pony in for a horse.” The look of pleasure on his son’s face caused Joe to blink back the sudden moisture in his eyes. “I selected several mounts for you and William,” and he smiled at the young man, “to choose from.”
Ben had to admit he was tired so he went inside to take a nap. Sarah and Miranda talked to their mounts and patted them while Benj and William selected theirs. Benj selected a chestnut gelding that was part Quarter Horse and part Morgan while William chose a Palomino Morgan mare.
“Can we go for a ride now, Daddy?” Sarah asked eagerly.
“It’s awfully close to dinnertime, but I guess we can go for a short ride.”
“Aw, Daddy,’ Sarah begged, but Joe replied, “If you haven’t ridden lately, a short ride is what you need. You’ll be very sore the first week or so.”
“That’s right, Sarah,” Miranda agreed. “I’m always sore the first week I’m here. If we’re going to ride, we need to hurry and change.”
Just then Jacob pulled into the yard with the buckboard. He and another hand carried Sarah and Benj’s trunk upstairs while Joe and William carried Miranda’s and Benj carried William’s valise. William gazed admiringly at his room’s proportions and the clean, simple lines of the furniture before hunting in his valise for something to wear. After seeing what the ranch hands wore, he knew he didn’t have anything really suitable.
As usual, the men finished changing first. Joe couldn’t help grinning at the sight of
William in his woolen pants and crisp white shirt. At
least he isn’t wearing a tie, Joe thought.
William saw the grin and said ruefully, “It appears I’ll need to make
another trip into
“I’ll see if Buckshot is going into town tomorrow. Or maybe Jacob could take you,” Joe replied grinning more broadly. He appreciated the young man’s adaptability and his lack of affectation. Just then Sarah and Miranda descended the stairs. William’s eyes widened at the sight of Miranda in her knickerbockers with her hair in a long braid hanging down her back, carrying a black Stetson in one hand.
“I always ride astride here,” she said with an impish
grin Ben would have recognized as identical to her grandmother’s. Seeing William’s stunned look she added, “I
never rode sidesaddle until I came to
“I’m sure he is correct,” William said quickly. “I was just surprised.”
“Come on,” Sarah said impatiently.
William was chagrinned to discover Miranda was a better rider than he was and when he complimented her on her ability, she said with a smile, “I’ve been riding since I was four.”
“Since you were four?” William repeated, his eyebrows shooting up.
“Mama would have preferred waiting until we were five, but Daddy talked her into letting each of us learn when we were four. I’m not as accomplished as Beth and Gwyneth, and A.C. is a born horseman as well.”
His face wore a bemused expression as he began to realize he didn’t know his beloved quite as well as he’d thought he did.
“That meal was delicious,” William said to Buckshot as he began to clear away the dinner plates.
“I hope you saved room for dessert,” Miranda commented, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of her mouth, and Ben thought she’d never looked more like Liz.
“It’s cherry pie,” Buckshot announced, his bushy eyebrows shooting up when Miranda and William both began to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Sarah demanded.
“I’m sorry,” Miranda said, struggling to control her giggles. “I don’t think I can really explain. It’s just a joke between us.”
Sarah didn’t look satisfied but her daddy diverted her attention while Ben looked speculatively at the two young people. “Why don’t we have our coffee in the great room,” he suggested and Miranda asked, “Would you tell us what it was like when you first moved here with Daddy and Uncle Hoss?”
“If you like,” he replied with a smile.
Joe, Sarah and Benj sat on the settee, Miranda chose her father’s favorite blue velvet chair and William moved one of the side chairs so he could sit by Miranda as Ben sat in his worn, but still comfortable, leather chair.
“I think the one word that best describes our life when
we first moved here is lonely,” he stated slowly. “I had started out from
Although it had been over fifty years since her death,
Ben swallowed hard before he continued his story. “I was devastated, but I had two young sons
who needed me so I forced myself to continue our journey. Before our wagon train crossed the Sierra
Nevadas, we discovered the most beautiful lake I’d ever seen, surrounded by
mountains covered with tall pines that seemed to touch the sky. Adam wanted to settle right there, but I
needed help with Hoss and we didn’t have the supplies to winter in the high
country. So I took my boys across the
mountains and settled near the
He saw the recognition on the scholar’s face at the mention of that name and the obvious interest in his tale and Miranda looked just as engrossed. “While I worked for Sutter,” he continued, “I found a kind woman to look after my boys. Hoss was happy and thriving, but Adam grew more quiet and withdrawn every day. I knew he missed his mama, but so did I. I worried about him and I couldn’t put that lake, the mountains and pines out of my mind. I seemed to hear Adam’s mother’s voice in my mind talking to me about living surrounded by tall trees and Inger’s voice describing a house with windows facing the east and the west, so that spring I bought supplies, loaded up the wagon and headed east with my two boys.”
“And how old was your younger son?” William queried, his expression intent.
“Let me see,” Ben said thoughtfully. “I guess he was about ten months old. He was weaned and I knew I could trust Adam to look after him.”
“But Miranda’s father was only, what, seven? That seems awfully young to be looking after a child less than a year old.”
“Yes, it is, but Adam was always old for his age, and I didn’t leave Hoss solely in his charge any more than I had to. That first year was very hard. It was difficult breaking sod, especially for a man who had never done it before. We lost some of our vegetables to deer and other animals and I hadn’t harvested enough hay. By the next spring, the stock and I were more than half-starved. That wasn’t the worst though. That winter both boys developed putrid sore throats. I had never felt more alone than I did then with no one to offer advice or spell me and two very sick little boys with raging fevers. Having no where else to turn, I prayed to the Great Physician and gradually their fevers lessened.” He smiled, lost in memory, as he saw those two little boys—one so dark and one so fair—both so precious to him, and relived the joy he’d felt when he knew they’d recover.
“But what about Daddy?” Sarah asked.
“Oh, your daddy wasn’t born yet,” Ben said with a smile. “By the time your daddy was born, we weren’t so alone. Our closest neighbors were the McKarens; they had a son the same age as your Uncle Adam.”
“Mr. McKaren,” Benj said.
“That’s right.
Of course, it was his father who was “Mr.” McKaren
then. The
Seeing the horror on Sarah’s face, William said
quickly, “But a man in
“I’m sorry if I scared you, Sugar,” Ben said gently. “Life was harder back in those days but it wasn’t all bad. Your daddy and your uncles had lots of fun swimming and fishing in the summer, having snowball fights and building snowmen in the winter.”
“Daddy told us how he and Uncle Hoss loved to go berrying,” Miranda added.
“That’s right. Adam would always come home with a full bucket, but Hoss would have eaten three-fourths of his by the time they got home,” Ben said with a wide grin. “Your daddy, Sarah,” he said nodding at Joe, “usually made it back with about half his bucket.”
“Those berries were so delicious,” Joe said with a big grin of his own. “Adam ate his share while we picked ‘em but on the way home I guess he just had stronger will power than Hoss and me.” He chuckled. “He also didn’t get bellyaches like we did.”
“I think that’s enough talk about the old days for tonight. It’s been such a long time since we’ve all been together that I’d like to celebrate by singing,” Ben said and Sarah immediately said, “Oh yes, let’s!”
“We’re in luck,” Miranda said with a smile, “because William can play Daddy’s guitar. I’ll go get it,” and she ran lightly up the stairs to fetch it from her bedroom.
“So you’re musical, Mr. Gordon?” Ben asked.
“Please call me William, Mr. Cartwright,” the young man replied. “I don’t know how musical I am, but my mother insisted I take violin lessons and while I was an undergraduate I taught myself to play the guitar. Miranda’s told me that she and all of her sisters sing and that her father and Gwyneth also play the guitar while Beth and her husband play the lap harp.” He smiled just a little then adding, “She tells me her little brother is the only one in their family who isn’t musical.”
“Gwyneth sings the best,” Sarah commented and William replied, “I’m sure she can’t have a lovelier voice than Miranda.”
“She does, I assure you,” Miranda said from the stairs. “And it’s not false modesty.”
“No,” Ben agreed. “Gwyneth’s voice is extraordinary.” He smiled at his assembled family and then added, “We may not have Gwyneth’s talent, but we enjoy singing together.”
William nodded his understanding and began to tune the guitar. Soon the six of them were enjoying themselves singing all their favorites. When William requested they sing Billy Boy, Ben and Joe saw the smile the two young people shared and understood the private joke about cherry pie. The only sad moment came when Sarah asked to sing Miss Cindy. Ben and William saw the pain in Miranda’s eyes and as they sang she broke down, alarming the others. After a moment she regained control and said in a voice that was unsteady, “I’m sorry. That was Penny’s favorite song. We even changed the words from Miss Cindy to Miss Penny. It just reminded me so much of her.”
“We didn’t know,” William said gently, taking her hand and holding it in both of his, which caused Ben to frown. “We’re sorry we caused you pain.”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Sarah said as her eyes began to fill with tears. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“No. That song only brings back happy memories,” Miranda said earnestly.
“But even happy memories can make you sad,” Joe said quietly. “It was the same for me when I remembered Hoss,” and Miranda knew he understood. “Now,” he continued, “I can remember all the happy times without tears,” and his niece smiled gratefully.
“Why don’t you sing us that song about the tramp who stole the sheep,” William suggested, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’ll bet your family would enjoy it.”
In deference to Ben, they all turned in early. As they were heading upstairs, Miranda said casually, “I always get up at dawn to feed and water Guerrero. That’s when we’d all take care of our mounts at home.”
“Do I have to get up that early, Dad?” Benj inquired.
“No, Pardner.
William understood what Miranda was telling him and managed to drag himself out of bed before dawn. He found Miranda already up and bringing Guerrero a bucket of water, but when she saw him, she set the bucket down and ran into his arms.
In between kisses he managed to get out, “I thought I would go insane not being able to kiss you for so long.”
“I know,” she replied, “and we’ll be well chaperoned, but no one else gets up this early.” A few minutes later they heard the sound of approaching footsteps but when Jacob entered the barn, he only saw the two of them busily caring for their mounts. His sharp eyes also spotted William’s mussed hair and the slightly reddened skin around Miranda’s mouth and he had a pretty good idea of the cause. However, he trusted Miss Miranda and was actually pleased she’d found a young man. Book learning was all very well, but a pretty young woman like her needed to be thinking of finding a husband and giving Mr. Ben some more great-grandchildren—ones that lived right here in the U.S. that he could spend time with.
Ben was startled awake by the sound of the front door slamming and Sarah’s excited voice.
“Grandpa! We got a letter from Uncle Adam and one from A.C.!”
“Sarah,” Joe scolded, “how many times have I told you not to slam the door?”
“At least a hundred,” her brother smirked. “And you woke up Grandpa.”
“I was just resting my eyes,” Ben said winking at his
granddaughter. “Besides, if we have
letters from
“Miranda got one too,” Sarah commented, looking around for her cousin. “I guess she and William have gone riding?”
“With Jacob as chaperone,” Joe added with a grin.
“That’s right,” Ben agreed. “The three of them have gone for a ride to the lake.” Ben’s eyes twinkled as he added, “Isn’t it fortunate that William enjoys talking to Jacob about his life as a cowboy?”
“Yeah, isn’t it,” Joe replied, for he had his suspicions that Jacob knew when to make himself scarce and give the young couple a little time alone. However, Joe trusted William, who was clearly in love with Miranda and just as clearly an honorable young man. It had taken Ben longer to warm up to him, but Joe suspected that his pa would have had a little trouble accepting any young man who sought to win the heart of the granddaughter who so strongly resembled his first love.
“Do we have to wait for Miranda and William?” Sarah asked, her big greenish-hazel eyes looking pleadingly at her daddy and grandpa.
“Oh, I expect Miranda will understand if we don’t wait. Let’s read your cousin’s letter first. Maybe they’ll return in time to hear your uncle’s.
Joe and the children settled on the settee and then Joe opened A.C.’s letter.
Dear Grandpa Uncle Joe Benj and Sarah,
I wish I culd come visit the Ponderosa its lonely now cause Gwyneth went walkabout.
“What’s he mean?” Sarah interrupted to ask.
“Perhaps we should have waited for your cousin so she could translate,” Ben commented.
“Maybe if I keep reading we’ll be able to figure out what he means,” Joe suggested and at his pa’s nod he continued reading.
She moved to
This time Joe interrupted his reading. “I can’t believe Adam would allow Gwyneth to move away and live on her own.”
“We’ll have to see what your brother has to say in his letter,” Ben replied. “Let’s finish A.C.’s first though.
I didnt want her to go but she said she needed to get away so she could think about Mark and Douglas I used to like them but not now cause they made Gwyneth go walkabout. Mama and Daddy miss her to. Daddy let me ride Artmis once but he said it was our secret I think thats cause Mama thinks Im to little but Im not. Artmis is lots bigger than Sport and I think his feelings were hurt when I rode her so I only did once. Daddy said in three more years when Im 11 I can have a horse of my own cause Gwyneth got one when she was 11. I asked Daddy when would she come home and he said he didnt know and maybe when she comes back she will get married and live with her husband like Beth. I don’t see why she would rather live with Mark or Douglas than with us Daddy said in a couple of years he wuld explain I asked him to explain now but he says Im to little I said I was not and then we had a necssary talk.
“I’m never going to leave home,” Sarah declared, interrupting her father. “I don’t see why Gwyneth would.”
“That’s because you’re too little, just like A.C.,” her brother replied condescendingly. “Gwyneth wants to marry Mark or Douglas and have babies.”
“Benj,” his father said in a warning tone but Sarah asked, “Can’t I have babies without having to get married?”
“Then you’d be wicked and go to hell,” Benj replied smugly, but his grandpa said sternly, “That will be enough, Benjamin!”
“Sorry, Grandpa” Benj mumbled, his face reddening as he felt his grandfather’s eyes bore into him.
“I don’t want to be wicked and go to hell,” Sarah said as her eyes filled with tears and her daddy picked her up and held her on his lap.
“You won’t, baby girl,” he said kissing her cheek. “When you grow up, you’ll meet a wonderful man like Cousin Beth’s husband Dafydd or like William and you’ll fall in love and get married.”
“And have babies?” Joe actually felt his cheeks grow warm as he replied, “I expect so. Most husbands and wives have babies.”
“Was that the end of A.C.’s letter?” Ben asked then, hoping to divert the children’s attention from the delicate subject.
“No, there’s a little more,” Joe answered and, reaching around the precious bundle on his lap, picked up the letter and continued reading.
This year for the fourth of July Daddy let me set off some firecrackers myself but he was there to watch me. Mama said I was to little but Daddy and I got her to say yes. Daddy read the decoration of indupendunce and we talked about why Americans decided they didn’t want a king anymore. I got Daddy to tell me stories about when Grandpa and him and Grandma Inger traveled West in a covered wagon and about when Grandpa and him and Uncle Hoss first lived on the Ponderosa. I wanna see the log cabin you built Grandpa when I come to the Ponderosa again.
Love,
A.C.
“I wanna see the cabin, too,” Sarah said excitedly. “Did you live there, Daddy?”
“Sure. We didn’t
build this house until Uncle Adam came back from college. He designed it just like he designed their
house in
“Could we go check it out, Dad? I’d like to see it,” Benj said with a quiet intensity.
“I imagine Miranda would like to see it as well,” Ben added. “If William drives me in the buggy, we could all go. I still remember how hard I worked getting that cabin done before winter set in. Your Uncle Adam wanted to help and we had to have a necessary talk before I made him see it was his job to look after his little brother. He was younger than A.C. and there was no way he could help lift those heavy logs and he might have gotten hurt very badly.”
“Yeah, I can just see older brother being that stubborn even at age s