Vignettes Part II

By Lois B.

FOREWORD  

This is the final installment of the series of stories I have been writing. The correct chronological order is Journey East, Journey West, and Vignettes. A Cartwright Christmas should really be included in this new tale, Vignettes Part II. It would come between the chapters TOM MORRISON and A PROBLEM—A SOLUTION. As in Vignettes, I have attempted to portray family relationships, as that was one of the things that made Bonanza so special to me. I was particularly interested in the way a loving relationship changes over the years, as the partners grow to know each other. I was also interested in what a tragedy can do to such a relationship.

I did quite a bit of research for the final chapter, FULL CIRCLE, which takes place in 1880. Elevators were in use at the time. In fact, Elisha Otis’s invention of the safety elevator in 1852 paved the way for the modern skyscraper. Charles Crocker was indeed the president of the Southern Pacific railroad. As for indoor plumbing, the Tremont Hotel in Boston was the first U.S. hotel to provide it for its guests, way back in 1826! (though not in each individual room). I learned that hotels were in the forefront of using modern conveniences to attract clientele. The Brooklyn Bridge, which took 14 years to construct, was opened to the public in 1883. It was considered a modern marvel. And Necco Wafers are the oldest candy still made in America. They were produced in Boston beginning in 1847.

Finally, I’d like to thank M.B. for her encouragement and commiseration as I struggled through some parts of this story. I also want to thank her for her editing skills.

UNDER THE WILLOW

“Sweetheart, you’ll have to go without me on Sunday.”

“Why?” Meg asked, trying to hold on to the slippery little body of their much beloved son as he splashed and gurgled in the tin tub half full of warm water.

“That storm we had last week tossed a lot of stuff into the stream that feeds the spring house. The water's barely flowing. I've to go clear it out or all you’ll have next week is sour milk and rancid butter.”

Adam had finished washing up after a hard day of ranch work. As soon as the baby was bathed and dressed, they’d have their dinner.

“I hate to see you work on Sunday!” Meg poured a cup of water over young Adam’s head to rinse off the soap she had used to wash his hair. He made a face, sputtered a bit, and then burst into peals of high-pitched baby giggles. He bounced up and down, slapping his hands excitedly in the water.

“Look at that, Adam! He doesn’t even mind when I get water in his face! Isn’t that amazing?” Meg exclaimed, as she repeated the process again.

Her husband wasn’t surprised at the observation. His wife was absolutely besotted with their son. Once her initial nervousness had passed, she had taken to motherhood with an enthusiasm and joy that was incredible to behold. Adam loved the baby. He was proud of him and enjoyed watching his antics. But to his wife, this child was a constant source of wonder. She was convinced that he was the brightest child ever born. She could spend long periods of time just watching him, either awake or asleep. She reported everything he did, in minute detail, each evening when Adam came home. He smiled and nodded.

“I’m sure no child before him has ever done that,” he teased. “Maybe he’s part fish.” He held out a fluffy towel as she lifted the little boy out of his bath. Meg made a face at him and handed young Adam over. His father wrapped him up securely and laid him on the table to dry him. She emptied the basin and hurried over to take charge again.

“I really don’t like the idea of you working on Sunday,” she reiterated, gently rubbing the baby’s head to dry his hair.

“I’m not too fond of the idea myself, but it’s the only time I’ll have an opportunity to tackle it.”

“Then I won’t go either.”

“Meg, you work hard all week. These family picnics are about the only amusement you allow yourself. I want you to go.”

“Oh look, Adam! The baby’s hair curls at the nape of his neck, just like yours!” she squealed, bringing the conversation back to her favorite topic.

Her husband rubbed his forehead in frustration. “That’s great, but can we talk about the picnic?”

“Of course we can. I told you. I won’t go.” And she bent down to inhale the baby sweet fragrance of her son just before she diapered him. “You’re the most handsome little man in the world, aren’t you now?” his mother crooned at him. “Yes, you are…yes you are,” she answered her own question, as she diapered him and eased him into his little gown.

Adam listened with amusement, then returned to the subject at hand. “Why not drive out with Hoss and Rebecca after church? If I finish early, I’ll join you,” he tried to compromise.

“Did you ever look at the baby’s hands, Adam? Where there should be knuckles there are just these adorable dimples. Come look. His hands are so chubby and sweet!” She bent low and kissed the tiny digits noisily, causing more infant giggles.

Receiving no response, Meg turned to look at her husband. He was leaning back against the sink, his arms crossed, trying to look patient. Her face fell. “Am I doing it again?” she asked, pushing the baby’s arms through the sleeves of his little gown.

“Mmm hmm.”

“I’m sorry.” She hung her head.

“Is dinner almost ready?”

“Yes. I just have to set the table and put the food out.”

Adam pushed away from the sink. He held out his hands and Meg gave the baby to his father. “Why don’t I take him for a little walk and you can finish up in here. Call me when dinner’s on the table.”

She didn’t protest. She was delighted that Adam took an active interest in his son. So many men were uninterested in or afraid of babies. Adam had a natural ability with their little one. And Meg wanted the boy to become close to his father, to learn from him, and to be as much like him as possible.

Several minutes later they were eating, the baby lying on his back on a blanket on the floor. He had not yet learned to turn himself over, but he was busy waving a rattle, kicking his feet and making cooing noises.

“Adam, I have an idea about Sunday. Why don’t the baby and I come with you and we can have our own little picnic out where you’re working? I can make something simple and it might be fun. What do you think?”

He considered her proposal for a minute. “I guess we could take the buggy instead of the buckboard. The road’s a little rough, but…”

“No,” she protested. “I’d like to walk. It’s not that far, is it?”

He wiped his lips on his napkin. “No, it’s not that far, but I need to bring some tools with me and then we’d need to carry the baby and the lunch.”

She looked disappointed. She really liked to walk and their property was too rough for one of those new baby buggies, so she had to carry young Adam when she chose not to drive. He was growing fast and getting heavy.

Adam saw her expression. Whenever possible, he liked to make her happy. “Tell you what. On Saturday night I’ll drive the buckboard with the tools out there. Then we can walk out and ride back. How does that sound?”

She beamed at him and nodded. “That’s perfect! I can fit Adam and the lunch in that big basket. We can carry it between us because it has two handles.” She stopped and thought. “But you’ll have to walk back on Saturday night. Do you mind?”

“I’ll tie Sport to the buckboard and ride him back. I can leave the other horse picketed out there over night.”

So the matter was settled.

To an observer they made a pretty picture…a young couple walking along, chatting and laughing, a large basket held between them. Meg shared the latest gossip with her husband and he asked her about a new book she was reading. Nugget, their dog, ran along with them, darting off occasionally after a rabbit or squirrel. When they reached the problem spot, Adam settled his wife and baby comfortably in the shade of a huge old willow tree and went to work.

Meg picked up the baby, sat with her back to the tree, and began to nurse him. She never lifted her eyes from his face. With her free hand, she stroked the hair off his forehead, traced his cheekbones, and captured his hand in her own. Eventually she moved him to her other breast and he began to suckle more slowly. His eyes fought to stay open as he continued to nurse. Finally he lost the battle altogether and she buttoned up her clothing. Holding him carefully, she removed all the lunch items from the basket and set him in it gently. He fussed briefly till he found his thumb. He was a good baby and she knew he would sleep for at least an hour…perhaps more in the fresh spring air.

She looked up to see what Adam was about and her breath caught in her throat. The branches of the willow hung low…some almost to the ground. She watched him through the leafy curtain they created. Her husband had removed his shirt. He had been chopping a large tree limb that was blocking a good portion of the water flow, and she caught him in mid-swing. TWACK! The limb broke in two. She watched as he tied a rope securely around several branches and attached it to the traces of the buckboard horse. He led the horse forward and the limb was pulled out of the stream. He smiled in satisfaction as the water began to flow more freely. He removed his boots and socks and waded to the other side, bringing the horse with him. He repeated the procedure with the other half of the tree limb.

As she watched him her mouth went dry and she felt the beginnings of a dull throbbing in her womb. Could a man be considered beautiful? But that’s what he was. And wasn’t it true in nature that the male of a species was frequently more attractive than the female? Attractive? What an inadequate, puny word to describe her husband, she thought. He was still thin and fit. His chest was magnificent…well muscled, but not bulky. She loved the mat of curly hair that began at his neckline, covered his chest, and snaked down into a ‘v’ below his navel. The thought made her swallow. As he worked she admired his natural grace. Now he was pulling some more debris from the stream and tossing it carelessly on the bank. His arm muscles bunched and relaxed as he worked, and she stared at the beauty of his movements. There was a rhythm there. As a musician she recognized it…was pulled toward it.

Adam was handsome. From the first time she had seen him in Boston she had been taken by his arresting features…pronounced cheekbones, a tiny dimple that was perfectly suited to his masculine face, the distracting cleft in his chin. His eyes were one of his best features. His gaze was always direct and open, but you knew that he was mentally weighing everything that he heard. Those direct eyes saw all, but revealed little. It gave her the greatest pleasure to do or say something that would affect a discernable change in them. She was delighted to see them twinkle when they shared a joke or he teased her. And when he wanted to love her, they seemed to grow smoky with desire. His lashes were long and thick, but straight. There was nothing feminine about them. Though each of his individual features could be considered beautiful, they were completely masculine and together, they formed face that was heart-stopping.

And then, of course, there was his voice. It was deep and rich in timbre, wonderful to listen to whether he was speaking or singing. One of the real joys of her marriage to him was that he loved music as much as she did. They harmonized beautifully and spent many happy evening hours together with his guitar and her piano. Just last week she had watched with tears in her eyes as he sat on the porch swing, the baby resting over his shoulder, singing softly to his little son.

He continued to work, unconscious of her observation. She smiled to herself as she recalled a book Carrie had shown her. It was filled with drawings and pictures of famous sculptures. Modest Meg had been a bit shocked at the nudity, but Carrie chided her, “Oh don’t be such a prude! This is art. And the human body is very beautiful. What could be more natural than for an artist to try and express himself by sculpting it?” Meg had had her doubts, but as she thought about it now, she wondered what truly magnificent work might have come from the hands of someone like Michelangelo if he had had her husband as a model. The artist had done a pretty good job with his David, but it boggled the mind to contemplate what a sculpture titled Adam might have looked like!

She laughed silently at her own foolishness. But there was no doubt her husband was handsome. Women still gazed at him with a certain yearning when they went anywhere. He was always polite, but somewhat distant. Perhaps that was part of his allure…there was an air of mystery about him. She laughed to herself again. Adam would scoff at such an idea, but it was true. He might not intend to project that image, but it was as much a part of him as his hair, his eyes, and his voice.

She felt the familiar sensations of desire pass through her. This had happened a few times before in their marriage. For reasons she couldn’t pinpoint, she would suddenly be enveloped by an incredible want…a need…of physical union with him. At first she had been ashamed of those feelings. They were lustful and wasn’t lust a sin? But when she had shyly broached the subject with him after one such occurrence he had just hugged her tightly.

“You don’t have anything to be ashamed about, sweetheart. We’re married. I’m flattered that you feel that way about me.” He had kissed her tenderly, then smiled and winked. “And I’m incredibly happy that you act on those feelings.”

She checked the baby again. He was sleeping soundly, his thumb fallen from his mouth. Nugget was curled up next to the basket.

“You watch him, boy,” she whispered, as she got to her feet. The dog raised his head, watched as she walked away, then dropped his chin back onto his paws.

“Almost done?” she asked as she walked up behind Adam.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. “Yup.” He tossed a few more small branches onto the bank, then turned and climbed up toward her. She reached out her hand and he took it. She pulled, but he pulled back, a wide grin on his face.

“Oh no you don’t!” she protested. “Stop it, Adam. I don’t want to get all wet and muddy.”

He stopped tugging and jumped up onto the bank next to her.

“I guess it’s not really hot enough for a swim,” he answered, then turned and faced the stream, crossing his arms. “Well I’m glad that’s done. You shouldn’t have any problem keeping things cool now.”

She wasn’t really listening. Keeping things cool was the last thing on her mind just then. She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She laid her cheek against his back, then began to plant tiny butterfly kisses up and down his spine. She stuck her tongue out and licked a path from just above his waist to as high as she could reach on tiptoe.

“Hey! What’s this all…?”

“Shhh!” she whispered.

He had unfolded his arms and she ran her fingers lightly up and down his chest, raking her nails gently across his flesh. When she burrowed her fingers below his belt and began to caress his navel, he could take no more. He turned and grabbed her by the upper arms.

“Meg, we’re outside!”

She didn’t answer him. Her eyes were soft and languid. She reached out and, putting a hand around his neck, brought his mouth down to hers. The kiss began gently but quickly picked up in intensity. His arms went around her waist and he pulled her closer.

This is insane, he thought. Someone might come along.

She ran a finger around his ear. I should stop this right now. Her tongue made quick darting forays into his mouth. What about the baby? She bit lightly on his lower lip. He wasn’t sure if the sound she made was more like a moan or a purr. Whichever, it did the trick. He grabbed her hand and pulled her under the draping boughs of the old willow. They fell to the ground simultaneously, breathing heavily. He rolled her beneath him. The last coherent thing she remembered him mumbling was, “I must be out of my mind.”

“Did you have enough to eat?”

“Plenty.”

“I told you this would be a simple meal. You poor thing. You did so much work in that stream today you deserve a better meal than this. I’ll make something more substantial for supper.”

“ ‘A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou…’ That’s really all I need.”

“Well, we have the bread, but no wine. And there were just some hard-boiled eggs, cheese, and fruit. But the quotation is pretty. What’s it from?”

“A Persian poem called The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. I once read a translation of it by a man named Fitzgerald. If you like it, I’ll see if I can get a copy of it for you.”

“I do like it. Is it all love poetry?”

“Not all of it. Some of it’s sort of…well…philosophy, I guess…observations on life. But I think you’d enjoy it.”

“Hmm. ‘A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou’. Guess that’s all I really need too. Oh! And the baby, of course.”

“Of course.”

Meg reached into the basket and lifted young Adam out. She placed him on his back between them.

“This is nice,” she said. “I love the family get-togethers, but maybe once in a while we can do this again. What do you think?”

“I think we had a pretty nice ‘get together’ of our own and I wouldn’t mind repeating it,” he replied slyly, laughing as her cheeks got rosy.

“Well, I’d better put this stuff away,” she said, hastily gathering the remains of their meal and finding places for it in the basket.

“Meg, sweetheart, look at the baby!” Adam said quietly.

She glanced down in time to see their son roll himself over onto his stomach. For a few brief seconds he looked like some wingless cherub trying to fly. His arms were stretched out at his sides and his legs lifted off the blanket and bent at the knees. Only his tummy made contact with the ground. His head bobbed unsteadily. Then he dropped his arms and his hands gripped the blanket. His expression was priceless. At first he seemed bemused by his accomplishment, but suddenly he smiled merrily and laughed, a string of drool making its way from his mouth to the blanket beneath him. He kicked his legs out behind him excitedly. His parents’ eyes met at the same time and they joined in his cheerful chuckles. It was a precious moment and Adam leaned over his son, placed his hand around Meg’s neck, and drew her forward for a kiss.

They left young Adam as he was for a minute, but neither of them could resist seeing if he would repeat his performance. He was placed on his back three more times and each time he rolled over onto his stomach. Meg clapped her hands in delight.

“Well, you’re happy about this now, but pretty soon he’ll be crawling and then walking. It’s going to be a lot more work keeping track of him when he’s mobile,” his father pointed out.

“I suppose,” she answered, “but isn’t it wonderful to see him do all these new things?”

“It’s wonderful,” he agreed, then sighed. “I think we’d better head on back. I have a few things to see to in the tack room, and there are always the barn chores.”

While Meg cleaned up the remains of their picnic, Adam hitched the horse to the buckboard. After tossing the tools and picnic basket in the back, he took the baby from his wife and assisted her up onto the rough seat. As he handed the child up to her he said, “I’m glad you suggested this day together. And we will do it again.”

“Well maybe not all of it,” she grinned.

He whistled for the dog, and climbed up beside her. “We’ll see,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with silent laughter.

“Oh you!” she exclaimed, punching him on the arm.

Adam laughed out loud, slapped the reins, and drove his little family home.

THE BABYSITTERS

“I’ve made the oatmeal, Adam, and I’ve already strained it through the sieve. All you have to do is heat it up in a pot. But you have to be careful. It can burn really fast so you have to watch it and stir it.”

“Sweetheart, I think I can manage to heat up the baby’s cereal without burning the house down.”

“Well, just keep an eye on it. And he gets this applesauce with it,” Meg replied, placing a small jar of applesauce in the basket she was preparing. “Not all of it, of course…about one quarter of the jar. Adam can have the rest.” She reached for a baby bottle with a rubber nipple.

“I’m trying to wean him so just put some milk in this bottle, snap the nipple on and give it to him. Did I say that you have to warm the milk first?”

“I’ve seen you do it before when you were weaning Adam.”

“Yes, but the milk has to be just right…not too hot and not too cold. Test it on your wrist like this,” she said holding out her wrist and showing him.

He nodded. “I can do that,” he answered her, thinking that she was making an awful fuss. She would be gone six hours at most and he certainly could take care of his two little sons for that amount of time without any difficulty.

“And I packed a lot of diapers…it’s so good that Adam’s already trained. But still, you have to ask him occasionally if he has to go. He gets so busy playing with his cousins that he sometimes forgets. So I packed extra clothes for him just in case.”

Her husband frowned. “Just how much stuff are we hauling over to Joe’s anyway?”

“Not much… just what you absolutely need. Carrie made a big pot of soup so you can give that to Adam for lunch with some bread and butter. And remember to cut the bread in little pieces so he doesn’t choke.”

Adam closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. He wondered if his father had fussed this much over him when he was little and, if not, how he had made it successfully to adulthood.

But Meg wasn’t paying any attention to him as she continued to place items in the basket.

“And this is Jesse’s favorite rattle and Adam’s blanket that he has to have when he takes his nap.” She surveyed the contents of the basket, a worried frown wrinkling her pretty brow.

“I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything. Food, changes of clothes, toys…well, if I did, I’m sure you’ll find what you need at Carrie’s house,” she said as she covered the large basket with a clean cloth and turned to smile at her husband. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him, then lifted her face to look at him and said, “I’m so happy that I’m going to this church convention! I really needed to get out of the house for a little while. And going with Rebecca and Carrie will be such fun! Do I look alright?” She stepped back and he watched with the greatest pleasure as she turned around slowly in front of him, showing off her outfit, a pretty fall dress in a rich green and yellow plaid.

“You look lovely. You’ll be the most beautiful woman at the gathering.” He paused, a thought occurring to him. “Is this convention just for women?”

“Why, no. It’s for the church elders. We’re in the choir and we’ll be helping serve the midday meal.” She frowned. “Honestly Adam, the only group of human beings on the earth who treat women with less respect and equality than the government is the church! I do believe we’ll earn the right to serve in Congress before we earn the right to be on a church council.”

Adam’s eyes rolled heavenward. Women’s rights were his wife’s passion and she was on a never-ending crusade to improve them. She managed to do so in a very quiet and non-threatening way publicly, always aware that her actions would reflect on the entire family, but she had expressed her feelings frankly to him on more than one occasion. This was old ground and he had no desire to tread it again, though in principle he agreed with most of her beliefs.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “You may be right. Right now I’m more concerned that you don’t let any of those old lechers get their hands on you. You look good enough to eat.” He kissed her tenderly.

She giggled. “Adam, you shouldn’t say such things! These are church folk! Nothing could possibly happen.” She tilted her head coyly. “But I’m glad you think I look nice. It’s been harder trying to get my figure back after Jesse was born than after Adam. I still have a few dresses I can’t get into, even with my corset tied really tightly.” She sighed. “I don’t know that I’ll ever again be the slim girl you married.” She rested her head on his chest. He tightened his hold on her.

“We’ll both change over the years, Meg. If all my hair fell out would you love me less?”

She pulled back and looked up at him.

“Of course not!” she replied indignantly. “How can you even ask such a question?”

“Well, that’s the same way I feel about you. I know that having babies has changed your body, but I’m not unhappy about it and I don’t want you to worry about it.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Besides, weren’t those two rascals worth a few changes?”

She had to laugh. “You know I think they were. But it’s not quite the same for a man as it is for a woman, Adam.” She stroked his face gently, then continued.

“I’ll stop complaining. I guess it’s just hard for me sometimes to accept that time moves on. When you were courting me, if that’s what you could call it, I thought that was the happiest time of my life and I never wanted it to end. Then when we got married I thought that those first few months were the happiest time and I didn’t want them to end. When Adam was a baby and a toddler, I thought those times were the happiest. And if I’d learn from the past, I’d know that we probably have some very happy times ahead with both the boys, so I should just count myself fortunate and leave it at that.”

She pulled out of his arms and looked around. “I think I have everything. I just need to put on my hat and gloves and get Jesse. I’ll be right out. Adam’s outside helping Davis hitch the horse to the buggy.”

Adam picked up the basket and headed for the front door.

“Then I’d better get out there and rescue the poor guy,” he answered her. Their son’s favorite word had recently changed from “no” to “why”. Five minutes of “conversation” with the 34-month old was about all Adam thought the old ranch hand could tolerate.

There was a definite look of relief on Davis’ face as Adam walked over, placed the basket in the buggy, and picked up his older son. He swung him high into the air, causing the boy to shriek with laughter.

“More, Pa! Please!” he begged.

“Okay. One more time,” the child was delighted to hear in response. Again he was tossed above his father’s head and caught by strong and loving arms. He laughed uproariously. Before he could beg for more, Meg appeared with eight month old Jesse in her arms.

Adam placed the older boy in the middle of the buggy seat and took the baby while Davis assisted Meg in climbing up. Then Adam handed her the baby and climbed up on the other side.

“I wanna drive, Pa,” young Adam demanded. His father looked at him, eyebrows raised, but said nothing. The little boy was silent a moment, thinking.

“Pa, can I please drive?” he asked in a more subdued voice.

“That’s better! Yes, you can drive for a while. Climb up,” his father replied. The child scrambled onto Adam’s lap and took the reins. With a wave to Davis, their trusted hand, they were off.

“Explain to me again why we’re all staying at Joe’s while you ladies attend this convention,” Adam said to Meg, as he kept a close eye on his son’s handling of the horse.

“Well, we all thought it would be easier on you men if all the children were together. We’ve found that it’s less work to mind them if they have playmates. They entertain each other. Then you and Hoss and Joe can do some planning for your father’s birthday party while the children are playing. It’s all very logical,” she replied earnestly.

“I don’t know. It seems like taking care of two is a lot easier than keeping track of six,” her husband responded doubtfully. “And what kind of planning are we supposed to do? These things are always the same…invite people and Hop Sing cooks.”

Meg sighed in frustration. “That’s exactly the point. It’s always the same. We thought you could come up with a few new ideas since this will be his sixtieth birthday. Think of something special we can do.”

Now it was Adam’s turn to sigh. He would have much preferred to stay home. As for the party, the old way suited him just fine. He subscribed to the theory, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” But he had learned that marriage was a series of compromises. He turned and looked at his wife who was fussing with the baby’s hat, and he had to smile. She was so lovely and had borne him two healthy little boys. She was a devoted mother and a loving helpmate to him. When she had entered his life his whole world had changed for the better. Her feminine perspective on things bewildered, amused, frustrated, and challenged him. And here she was trying to make his father happy with a different type of birthday celebration and he was complaining about it.

“We’ll do our best to think of something,” he promised her. “You just concentrate on having a good time in Virginia City.”

Meg beamed at him. “Oh I will!”

Just then Adam’s attention was diverted by the little boy on his lap, who was slapping the reins vigorously on the horse’s rump.

“Hey, hey there, son!” he admonished. “We’re not in a race here. Trotting is just fine.” And he took the reins from the child’s hands.

“I like to go fast, Pa,” the youngster protested.

“I know you do. I like to go fast too, but not with your mother and brother in the buggy.”

“Why, Pa?”

“Because it can be dangerous. Besides, we’re almost at Uncle Joe’s house now. I’ll drive from here.” And young Adam knew better than to argue.

They observed a yard full of activity as they drove up. Hoss, Rebecca, and their 28 month old twins, Eric and Peter, were already there. Carrie had offered to drive and was standing by the buggy with Joe, giving him last minute instructions on the care of their two children.

“Darlin’, I can take care of things here. You just go and have a good time.”

“Well, I just wanted to warn you that the baby’s cutting a new tooth and he’s been very cranky. He’s sleeping right now, but if he fusses you can put some paregoric on his gums. It seems to sooth them. Or give him one of those hard biscuits to chew on. And there’s plenty of soup for lunch and you know where the bread is for sandwiches.”

“I know where everything is Carrie. I live here too, you know.”

She gave him a withering look. “Don’t be sarcastic, Joe. I really want to go out today, but I don’t want to come home to a wrecked house or neglected children.”

Joe’s face took on its most offended look. “Look, darlin’, I think I can manage to watch Mary and Joe without starving them or destroying the house. Give me a little credit!”

“I’ll give you complete credit for being an excellent rancher and a wonderful father for the children, but when it comes to their day to day care, well….”

“How hard can it be, Carrie? Mary’s almost four and if Joe’s cutting a tooth, he’ll most likely sleep the afternoon away. I can handle it. They’re my kids. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to them.”

“Our daughter is three and a half and our son may decide to cry all afternoon, instead of sleep. I just want you to be prepared.” She climbed up into the driver’s seat and looked down at her husband. “I know you’d never intentionally let anything bad happen to them. That wasn’t what I meant. It’s just that…”

“What? What don’t you think I can handle, Carrie?”

She realized that Joe’s temper was rising and she decided to let the matter drop. And maybe she was being too fussy and worrying needlessly. She smiled sweetly and modulated her voice, which had also begun to rise as they had argued.

“Nothing, Joe. I’m sure you’ll be just fine. I really mean that. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise.” She leaned down and kissed him. “Would you be an angel and hurry up the other two. We don’t want to be late.”

She was pleased to see his charming grin reappear. He moved off to inform the other women that their carriage and driver were ready, and then made a quick inspection of the carriage while Hoss and Adam helped Rebecca and Meg into the rear seat. Before any of the wives could issue any more warnings or instructions, Joe slapped the horse smartly on its rump and the carriage moved off in the direction of Virginia City. Rebecca and Meg turned to look over their shoulders and wave.

“How do you think they’ll make out?” Meg asked her blonde sister-in-law.

“I don’t know. I hope everything will go smoothly,” was Rebecca’s reply, while a few worry lines wrinkled her brow.

“Well, all I know is I’m planning on having a good time today,” Carrie said to the other two. “No dishes, no diapers, no tears, no whining, no cleaning! Just some fun singing and serving the dinner. And the best part is we don’t have to cook it or clean up afterwards! Yup! I’m gonna enjoy myself!” She slapped the horse with the reins so he picked up his pace. And the three women talked, laughed, and gossiped all the way to Virginia City.

“I can’t believe Rebecca thought I’d have trouble taking care of these two little fellas,” Hoss said as the carriage began to move off. He had one twin on each arm. “She even left me a big ole note with all kindsa directions on it. Heck, we’re gonna get along just fine, ain’t we boys?” he asked, looking down at Eric.

But Eric was watching his beloved mother ride away very fast in a carriage. It was apparent to the youngster that she was leaving him. Mama had never left him before. Maybe she wouldn’t come back!

His little chin started to quiver and salty tears formed in his big blue eyes. They slid silently down over his cheeks as he called out plaintively, “Mama! Mama! Come back!”

This caught the attention of his brother Peter. Why, Eric was crying! His eyes followed his brother’s and he, too, watched the carriage grow ever smaller. Mama was going away! He joined his brother’s wails as he extended his arms pathetically in an attempt to reach out to her.

“Back, Mama! Come back!”

“Hey! Hey, now you two. Don’t you go cryin’,” Hoss said, in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “Mama’ll be back real soon.”

He began to move his arms up and down, bouncing the boys as he spoke. But they would not be comforted. Their cries grew louder and more shrill. Hoss continued to bounce them, as he looked around hopelessly.

“Here…give one of them to me,” Joe suggested. “Let’s get them in the house and maybe we can distract them."

He took Peter from his father and they headed for the front door. Adam had Jesse in his arms and young Adam by the hand, and Mary was skipping along next to her father, who was sure his hearing would be permanently damaged by the piercing screams issuing from the mouth of his nephew. He had to hold the boy tightly because he was struggling to climb over Joe’s back and get down so he could run after his mother.

Once in the house, Hoss turned to Joe. “Now what?”

The twins were still crying at full volume.

Joe looked momentarily flummoxed. Then his face lit up, as it always did when he thought of a particularly brilliant idea. “We’ll feed ‘em! They can’t cry if they have food in their mouths.”

Hoss look a bit doubtful. “I dunno know, Joe. Rebecca said…”

“Listen, to me, Hoss. Feeding you always shuts you up. These are your sons, so I say feed ‘em and see what happens.”

Hoss looked to Adam, who merely shook his head and shrugged. He was remembering something Meg had said and he bent over and asked his older son, “Do you have to use the outhouse?” The boy shook his head. Adam stood up, smiling in satisfaction, but the smile rapidly evaporated as he felt his forearm grow damp. He looked at baby Jesse who was smiling his cherubic grin at his father, while attempting to pull the little knitted hat off of his head.

Over the din of the still screaming twins, Adam said, “I have to go change Jesse.” He looked around for the basket with the diapers and other items that Meg had packed. To his disgust he realized he had left it outside.

“You stay here, Adam. I’ll be right back,” he told the little boy and went to retrieve the basket, happy to be out of earshot of Peter and Eric, even if only briefly. By the time he returned, the boys were quiet. Each was busy stuffing a chewy cookie into his mouth and Mary and Adam were similarly engaged. Joe was looking exceptionally pleased with himself and Hoss looked just plain relieved. But their respite was brief. From upstairs came a plaintive cry that quickly erupted into a full-fledged roar.

“Joe’s awake, Pa,” Mary announced unnecessarily to her father.

While Joe ran up the stairs to tend to his son, Adam laid Jesse on the sofa to change his diaper.

“No, Adam! No! Ya can’t change him on the sofa. It’ll get wet. Ya gotta do it on the floor,” warned Hoss.

Realizing the logic in this, Adam snatched up the baby and put him gently on the floor. He removed the wet diaper, relieved to note that it was indeed only wet. While he was trying to decide what to do with it, Jesse rolled over and crawled away at a pace that was truly amazing. By the time his father looked up, the baby was already under the dining room table. Still clutching the wet diaper, Adam got up and ran after him. He knelt down, reached under the table, and managed to grab hold of the runaway’s little foot. He bent down even further and crawled after his son to get a better grip on him. He pulled him gently backwards and as he began to straighten up, he smacked his head sharply on the table’s edge. He lifted his hand to rub the bump while still keeping hold of Jesse and realized he was massaging his scalp with the wet diaper.

Joe, meanwhile, came down the stairs holding his weeping son. He patted the boy’s back, jiggled him up and down, and spoke soothingly, in an attempt to quiet him. But young Joe continued to cry—not the loud wails of his twin cousins—just a constant and steady low moaning sound.

“Joe’s teeth hurt,” Mary announced wisely to her father.

“That’s right! I forgot. He’s teething,” Joe spoke his thoughts out loud. “Now what was I supposed to put on his gums to relieve the pain? It was…para…para…para something.” His brow furrowed as he tried to recall the name of the medication.

“Paraffin?” Hoss suggested helpfully.

“No, I’m sure it wasn’t paraffin,” Joe replied, shaking his head and frowning in concentration. “But I know it began with ‘para’.”

“Well the only other word that I can think of is parakeet and I’m sure Carrie didn’t want you rubbin’ no little bird on that baby’s gums!” Hoss guffawed at his own joke.

“Some help you are!” Joe shot back. “Hey Adam, can you think of a word that begins with ‘para’ that’s a….”

“Paragraph.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s a kind of…”

“Paraphrase.”

“Will you listen to me! The word I can’t remember is something you…”

“Paradise, parapet, parable…” Adam continued to recite as he tucked Jesse under his arm and moved back to where the clean diaper was laying on the floor.

“No, listen to me, it’s a kind of med…”

“Parallel, paradox, parallax, paramount, parasite, paradigm,” Adam continued to chant as he placed his son on the floor and began re-diapering him.

“Oh shut up, Adam,” Joe exclaimed in exasperation.

“Ooooohhh! Pa said a bad word!” little Mary chirped, her green eyes wide and surprised.

Adam laughed out loud at his niece’s remark and decided to take pity on his frustrated brother. “I think the word you’re searching for is paregoric, Joe. Meg uses it sometimes when the boys are cutting teeth.” He completed his diapering and stood Jesse on his feet supporting him carefully. “I think he’ll be walking soon.”

“Hey, Adam, you don’t want ta encourage that,” Hoss advised. I got two runnin’ around right now and it’s dang hard to keep up with ‘em, right Joe?”

But his brother didn’t answer because he had taken his moaning child and gone off in search of the teething medication. He returned shortly, rubbing a liquid on his little son’s gums and speaking soothingly to the boy. This seemed to work and young Joe quieted down.

“Hey, Joe, you have someplace I can put this wet diaper?” Adam asked, while his brother continued to croon to the child in his arms.

Joe frowned for a second and then his face lit up.

“Put it in the wooden bucket on the back porch. That’s where Carrie puts the diapers till she washes them.”

The bucket already had a number of diapers in it. Adam looked at the diaper in his hand, glanced at the contents of the bucket, then shrugged and tossed Jesse’s on top, deciding to let the women sort out the problem of what belonged to whom when they returned.

He found his brothers on the front porch. Joe still held his son in his arms and Mary, the twins, and young Adam were running around the front yard. Joe had a swing hanging from a branch of the large tree in the yard and Mary and Adam were taking turns swinging and pushing each other.

“Maybe we oughta talk about Pa’s party while the kids are busy,” Hoss suggested, as he watched the children playing.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” answered Joe, rocking slowly back and forth in Carrie’s little cane rocking chair. His son was beginning to fuss again. He glanced out into the yard.

“Hey you kids…don’t push that swing so high or I’ll take it down!” he called out as Adam tried to launch Mary into space. He turned to his brothers.

“Maybe the swing isn’t such a great ide…,” he started to say, but was stopped mid sentence by the sickening sound of a thud, followed by a brief silence, and then a piercing scream from young Adam. Three pairs of eyes looked up to see the boy lying flat on his back, his hand holding the left side of his forehead. Adam jumped up and almost tossed Jesse into Hoss’ lap. He vaulted over the porch railing and was at his son’s side in an instant.

“What happened?” Joe asked Hoss.

“I seen young Adam turn his head to look atcha when ya called out that they shouldn’t push the swing so high. The swing came back and hit him in the head.”

Adam picked up the screaming boy and examined his forehead. A lump the size of a small egg was beginning to form. By now Peter, Mary, and Eric were gathered around watching with interest. Adam lifted his son into his arms and headed for the porch.

“Can someone go get some ice from the icehouse?” he asked. “This is a pretty nasty bump.”

“I’ll go,” Hoss offered, and walked off still cradling Jesse and looking much like the Pied Piper as the other three children trotted after him.

“Jeez, Adam, that’s one ugly lump,” Joe remarked.

“Thanks for the insight,” his brother answered testily. As he tried to calm his screaming child he was imagining what Meg might have to say about this when she got back. It wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on.

Young Joe was beginning to fuss some more and his father took him into the house to apply more paregoric.

Hoss finally returned with a large piece of ice and the four little cousins. “Why don’tcha let me chop this up some and I’ll put it in a napkin for ya, Adam.”

The brothers made their way to the kitchen and Hoss chopped up the ice, giving Mary and the twins large pieces to suck on. Adam watched in admiration. Say what you would about Hoss lacking a certain amount of “book learning”, he thought. He had occasional bouts of real brilliance. This was one such time, as the children considered the ice a treat.

Young Adam, seeing his cousins blissfully sucking away on the frozen water, stopped his screaming long enough to demand tearfully, “I want some ice, too!” Seizing the moment, his father promised him a piece if he would hold the napkin full of crushed ice on his bump.

Before long Adam, Hoss, and Joe were again sitting on the porch while their offspring sat on the steps sucking ice wedges. Joe was rocking his little boy, who was temporarily quiet, and Adam held Jesse, who smiled beneficently at everyone and then proceeded to bend over double trying to suck on his big toe.

“Well what can we plan that’d be kinda…you know…special?” Hoss picked up the conversation.

“Darned if I know,” Joe replied.

“Maybe if we had different food or somethin’,” Hoss suggested.

“I think our wives had something more dramatic in mind than just a change of menu,” Adam answered, as he held on to his wiggling son who was now rocking back and forth, singing a tuneless little ditty whose main lyric sounded like, “Ba da ba da ba da ba.”

“Hey! What if we had the party in town instead of on the ranch?” Joe exclaimed. “We could have it at the hotel. That’d be different.”

“I don’t think a change of venue was what they were thinking about either,” came Adam’s reply.

“What’s a ‘venue’?” Hoss asked.

“The place where the party’s held,” Adam answered, laughing at Jesse who had inadvertently blown a huge spit bubble and was looking at it cross-eyed.

“Well then I don’t have any idea what we can do,” Joe complained. “I think the way we’ve celebrated in the past is just fine. Why mess with success?”

Adam shifted Jesse to his other arm. “I had an idea. I don’t know what you two’ll think of it, but maybe we could ask all of Pa’s friends to write down some story they have about him…you know, a funny incident or just something that they remember. Then we could tie them up in a little booklet and give it to him at the party. I still think the party should be at home and the food should be the same. As far as I’m concerned, if Meg wants different food, she can arrange it. But the booklet would be unusual and it’d make a great gift.”

He paused and wiped a string of drool from Jesse’s chin. “Can you think of something better?” he asked when his suggestion was met with silence.

His brothers shook their heads. Ben Cartwright was a wealthy man and he was increasingly difficult to buy for.

“So Adam, you’re sayin’ that we’d write something fer this book too?” Hoss asked.

“I think so. It’d be a gift from everyone. And I think it would mean more to him than a new saddle or a rifle or shotgun.”

“You know that sounds great,” Joe exclaimed. “Maybe we could even get Tyler Matthews at the Enterprise to print it up and maybe, you know, bind it into a real book!”

The lack of children’s chatter suddenly caught Hoss’ attention. The steps were empty.

“Hey where did them rascals go to anyhow?” he asked, standing up.

Before either Joe or Adam could comment, a flock of chickens came running from around the corner of the house, squawking frantically, feathers flying. Lady, Joe and Carrie’s little spaniel, was chasing them at full speed. The dog turned the corner of the house so fast that her legs went out from under her momentarily and she slid along the dusty yard for a few feet. But she righted herself immediately and was off again after her quarry.

“How the heck did the chickens get out?” Joe exclaimed, standing up and running down the porch steps.

“Eric opened the gate,” reported Mary, as she trotted into view from around the corner of the house.

This remark sent Hoss off and running in the direction of the hen house. He was soon back, breathing heavily, holding Eric in his arms and leading his nephew by the hand. A look of sheer panic was on his face.

“Hey Joe, I’m dang sorry about them chickens, but I got a bigger problem. I can’t find Peter. I looked all over by the hen house, but I can’t find him nowhere!” Then he added under his breath, “Oh Lordy, if I lose one of them babies Rebecca’s gonna kill me!”

Joe temporarily gave up on the idea of a chicken roundup and turned to his daughter.

“Honey, when was the last time you saw Peter?”

“I just saw him.”

“You did? Where?”

“By the chicken coop. He helped Eric open the gate. Then Lady ran after the chickens.” She began to giggle. “It was funny, Pa!”

“Yeah, I know. It was very funny. But did you see him after Lady started chasing them?”

“No.”

“You didn’t see which way he walked off?”

“No.”

Joe closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “I guess we’d all better start looking,” was all he could suggest.

Hoss, his heart in his mouth, was already jogging off in the direction of the small stream that ran along Joe’s property, Eric bouncing along on his father’s arm. Joe sat Mary on the porch swing and placed her brother in her arms.

“You stay there and hold your brother. And don’t you move off that swing unless I tell you to! Is that clear?”

She nodded solemnly, reacting to the severe tone of her father’s voice.

Adam lifted his older boy by one arm, seated him next to his cousin, and pinned him with a look.

“Don’t you move. Just sit there till I get back.”

Young Adam nodded solemnly as he pressed the cold, sodden napkin full of melting ice to his forehead.

A frantic search ensued. They checked the stream, the well, the spring house and the barn. Joe looked through every room in the house. He checked in the pantry and under the beds. Adam was out in the tall grass that grew beyond the fence in the back yard. His heart pounding from terror and the exertion of running with Eric in his arms, Hoss opened the only structure that they hadn’t yet checked. There he found Peter, in the outhouse, throwing pebbles down the hole in the wooden seat. He barely had the breath to call out, “I found him!” He leaned against the door panting, waiting for Adam and Joe to arrive.

“Joe, you pick him up,” Hoss requested as his brothers showed up and his breathing began to return to normal.

“Yeah, you already got your arms full,” his brother agreed, lifting the smiling towhead into his arms.

“It ain’t that, Joe,” Hoss replied. “If I touch him, I think I might kill him. And it’d be real hard to explain that to his mother.”

Adam grinned, but Joe nodded in understanding.

“Isn’t it about lunch time?” Adam asked as the brothers returned to the front porch, relieved to see the other three children exactly where they had been told to stay.

“Yeah, maybe if we feed ‘em, we can get them to take a nap,” was his younger brother’s response.

While Joe heated the soup on the stove, Hoss and Adam washed six pairs of dirty little hands and seated all the children around the big kitchen table, tying napkins around their necks.

“If that’s so they don’t get dirty, then you’re wasting your time. They’re already filthy from playing in the yard,” Joe said, giving the soup another stir. He ladled it out into bowls as Adam and Hoss buttered thick slices of bread for the group. They remembered to cut it into small pieces for the children.

“Move over, Joe. I have to heat up Jesse’s oatmeal,” Adam said, pouring the cereal into a heavy cast iron pot and placing it over the heat. He stirred it carefully, testing it occasionally for temperature. He felt a tug on his trousers.

“Pa, I gotta go to the outhouse.” His little son was looking up at him, an anxious expression on his face. The boy had his legs crossed and was dancing up and down as he spoke.

“Right!” Adam dropped the spoon into the pot and took the boy by the hand. They scooted out the back door and moved quickly in the direction of the privy. They made it just in time. On the way back Adam praised his son for being such a big boy and suggested that next time he might not wait quite so long to speak up.

When they got back to the kitchen Joe was looking unhappily into the little pot that held the oatmeal. The contents had burned black and an acrid smoke wafted around the kitchen.

“Geez, I’m sorry Adam,” Joe apologized. “I was feeding Joe and by the time I smelled it, it was already burned.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have taken it off the stove. But what am I going to feed Jesse?” Adam replied.

“Jesse don’t have no lunch now,” Mary chirped, beginning to annoy the adults with her gift for stating the obvious.

“Hey! I think there’s some oatmeal left from our breakfast. Wait a second…yeah! Here it is.” And Joe produced an unappetizing looking lump of cold cereal in a little bowl.

“I guess it’ll have to do,” his brother answered, taking it. “Do you think he’ll get sick if he eats it cold? I don’t want to risk burning this too.”

“Nah! Kids are tougher than they look. Just thin it out a little with some milk.”

“When did you become the big baby expert?” Hoss demanded, ladling soup into a bowl for his personal consumption.

“Well do you have a better idea?” Joe snapped back. “And anyway, I’ve been a father longer than either of you two so maybe I know a thing or two.”

“I’ll try it,” Adam settled the question.

Jesse appeared to enjoy the meal, complete with the applesauce that Meg had packed for him.

“This’ll be our little secret, pal,” his father whispered to him as he spooned the cold oatmeal into his baby’s open mouth. “Don’t tell your mother.” And his son replied with a coo and then blew an oatmeally raspberry at his father, causing his two uncles to burst out laughing.

“Nap time!” Hoss declared with a big smile. “I’ll just take these two rascals and get ‘em settled on the bed in that little spare room, Joe.”

“Don’t ya think ya ought to change them first? They sure stink.” A particularly foul smell had begun to permeate the living room.

“I just did. Maybe you better check out your son, short shanks,” Hoss tossed over his shoulder as he carried the twins off in the direction of the spare room.

“It’s Joe, Pa. Mama says Joe’s poopy stinks real bad when he’s teething.”

“Well, darlin’, you’re just a regular little encyclopedia today, aren’t you?” her father answered as he found to his dismay that Hoss had been right.

“Geez! I wonder what color you’d call that?” Joe asked as he inspected the contents of his son’s diaper.

“Why on earth would you want to give it a name?” answered Adam, as he sat on the sofa feeding the contents of the successfully heated bottle to Jesse. “Actually, I can think of a good name for it, but I can’t tell you in front of the kids.”

“I can use my imagination, big brother! I guess I’m getting’ a little slap happy here. I still have to get him to nap, clean up the kitchen, and round up those chickens. Man, they won’t lay for a week or more and Carrie’s gonna be really angry about that,” Joe continued as he cleaned up his son’s bottom and fought the urge to gag.

“Tell you what. After we get the two babies down, Mary and I’ll clean up the kitchen and you take Adam and get the chickens.”

“Sounds good as long as we can get them to sleep,” Joe replied as he pinned on the clean diaper. He picked up the soiled one and handed it to his daughter. “Here, darlin’. You put that in the diaper pail for me, like a good girl.”

“Mama always rinses it out first, Pa.”

Joe held on to what was left of his temper. He took a deep breath. “I know, sweetheart, but just this once, you put the dirty diaper in the pail…okay?”

His daughter smiled sweetly at him. “Okay, Pa. Just this once.” And she headed off in the direction of the back porch.

“Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so smart,” Joe muttered under his breath.

“She’s not even four and she’s already giving you a run for your money? You’re in big trouble, boy,” Adam said as Jesse produced a noisy belch.

They decided to put both babies in young Joe’s crib. Mercifully, they both popped their thumbs in their mouths and rolled onto their sides. Joe covered them with a blanket and tiptoed out of the room. Adam was motioning him toward the spare room, finger to his lips to indicate Joe should approach silently. A smile split the younger man’s face when he looked in the room.

Hoss was sprawled across the bed sideways, arms outstretched, snoring softly. One twin lay cuddled next to him on each side, sleeping peacefully. Joe tiptoed in, picked up a blanket from the foot of the bed, and quietly covered the exhausted trio. Then he and Adam made their way to the living room.

While his son was busy with Uncle Joe trying to round up the scattered flock of chickens, Adam cleared the dishes off the kitchen table, put some hot water in Carrie’s dishpan, and began to wash up. Mary assisted by bringing over the silverware and children’s dishes.

“You’re a big help,” her uncle complimented her as she handed him two tin mugs.

“My mama says that I’m a bigger help around the house than Pa!” she answered brightly.

Adam laughed to himself. It was tempting to question her further on things that “mama said”, but knowing how his own son had sometimes misinterpreted things, he decided not to pursue the topic. Uncle and niece chatted amicably the entire time and Adam thought how nice it might be to have a pretty little daughter of his own. When he got to the burned oatmeal, it took a lot of elbow grease to clean the pot. How could cereal have such sticking power? Perhaps there was a use for it as an adhesive! He worked on the pot for a long time till he thought it was clean enough. He didn’t want to ruin any of Carrie’s cookware, but more importantly, he didn’t want his wife to find out that he’d burned the stuff in the first place.

Mary had been watching him quietly the entire time.

“When Mama burns something she just puts some water in the pot and lets it sit for a while. Then it comes right out and she don’t have to scrub,” she informed him.

Adam gripped the sink and his head dropped between his shoulders. He sighed wearily, then turned his head and looked at the little girl with the green eyes and dark wavy hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” he asked.

“Cause it was fun to watch you go like this,” she replied, making a vigorous scrubbing motion with her hand.

He nodded as if this answer made perfect sense. “Let’s go find your father and cousin,” was all he said.

Joe and the boy were just walking up the front steps as Adam and Mary came out.

“How’d it go?”

“Well, I managed to find all but about three of ‘em. I don’t know if they’re out there in the bushes or if the dog got lucky. I’m too tired to worry much about it now.”

“I could use a cup of coffee, Joe.”

“Well I could use a drink! And I don’t mean a beer.”

They looked at each other for a second and then both began to laugh.

“It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it, Adam?”

“It’s harder than they make it appear. I’ve got new respect for my wife,” agreed his brother.

“Will you ever admit it?”

“Not on your tintype.”

They shook hands on this and laughed again as they went into the house.

The next ninety minutes were relatively peaceful. Adam read a couple of stories to Mary and his son and midway through the second they both dropped off for a short snooze. Then he made some coffee but declined his brother’s offer to lace it with something more bracing. He was beginning to realize that with children you had to keep your wits about you all the time.

One by one the nappers began to wake. Hoss and the twins were up first and he headed right for the kitchen when he smelled the coffee.

“You got any cake to go with this, Joe?” he asked.

“Yeah, help yourself to whatever’s in the pantry.”

“I got to change them boys again. Sorry Joe. I think the bed in the spare room’s little wet,” Hoss mumbled around a piece of cake, as he came out of the kitchen with his coffee cup in the other hand.

“Don’t say anything to Carrie. Maybe it’ll dry before she gets back,” was his brother’s only reply.

“Oooo! Uncle Hoss and the twins wet the bed.”

Joe whirled around. He hadn’t realized that his daughter was awake. “Mary, Uncle Hoss didn’t…”

“You said you weren’t gonna tell Mama. Mama says you shouldn’t keep secrets.”

Joe successfully fought the impulse he had to shake her. “I’ll tell your mother all about it when she gets home,” he promised.

Another round of diaper changes occurred when young Joe and Jesse woke up.

Joe had just returned from a trip to the now overflowing diaper pail. He watched in horror as his nephew Eric tugged on the lace runner, which hung down on either side of the dining room table. Hand over hand, the youngster was working to pull it off. An ornate crystal bowl sat on this runner in the middle of the table. It was one of Carrie’s most beloved possessions, being one of the few items she owned that had once belonged to her mother. With each pull, it moved perilously closer to the edge of the table. If anything happened to it…!

“NO!”

His brothers, unaware of what was happening, looked up in astonishment to see Joe take a running dive toward the dining room table. He slid across the floor on his belly, his arms out, palms up. The bowl landed in his hands. He got shakily to his feet and placed it carefully on the sideboard. Then he turned to Eric.

“Let’s see if we can’t find something else for you kids to play with,” he managed to grind out.

“I got my doll, Pa,” Mary said helpfully. “I can play with that. Adam can play with me, right Adam?"

Dolls were for girls. Her cousin’s face fell.

“But I don’t wanna…”

“Go play with your cousin,” his father ordered. Normally he might have been more sensitive to his son’s feelings in the matter, but his primary thought now was that there was very little trouble those two could get into while engaged in that rather feminine pursuit.

The little boy sighed resignedly and followed Mary out of the living room.

Joe brought out a wooden wagon and some carved wooden horses for the twins and two spoons and a couple of tin cups for his son, who seemed to have recovered some of his good nature and has ceased his moaning. He smiled as his father placed the kitchenware in front of him on the floor. He reached for a cup and spoon, waving them happily in the air.

“Don’t ask me why, but he likes to play with them,” he said and shrugged.

“Maybe he’s gonna grow up and be a chef,” joked Hoss, as Adam placed Jesse on the floor next to his cousins. He had just finished feeding the baby a second bottle of milk.

A half-hour of peace and quiet followed. The brothers were having an animated discussion about a new line of cattle that Ben wanted to introduce into the herds when Mary ran shrieking out of her room.

“Adam killed Jane! Adam killed Jane,” she screamed, running into her father’s arms and bursting into tears.

“Who’s Jane?” her Uncle Adam asked, jumping up in alarm and looking for his son.

“One of her dolls, I think,” Joe replied, bending down and trying to comfort her.

Young Adam skulked silently out of Mary’s room, head hung low, carrying Jane. Her china head had been smashed, most of the pieces still on the floor in Mary’s room. With most of her head missing, her painted smile and one remaining eye looked somewhat sinister. Adam took the doll from his son, who looked up at him with eyes full of unshed tears.

“It was a accident, Pa. I didn’t mean to do it.”

“What happened?”

Before his son could answer, Mary snatched Jane from her uncle’s hands and clutched her to her chest. “Poor Jane! Poor Jane!” she cried dramatically. Then turning to her father, “Can you fix her, Pa?”

“I don’t think so, darlin’,” replied her father, who noted yet again how much his daughter took after Carrie in terms of emotional outbursts. He was certain she hadn’t obtained this characteristic from him!

“Mary, sweetheart, I’ll buy you a new doll,” Adam assured her.

“Just exactly like Jane?”

Adam knew enough to be careful here. “We’ll find one just as exactly like Jane as we can find. I’ll take you to town tomorrow to look in the stores and if you don’t find what you want we can order a doll from the catalogue. How’s that?”

And as quickly as the storm had come up, it was over. Wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, Mary smiled happily at her uncle. Adam and Joe both sighed in relief.

Turning back to his son to get the rest of the story, Adam became aware of a familiar, unpleasant odor. He frowned at the boy.

“Did you…?”

“We was playin’ and I forgot. I’m sorry, Pa.” And his chin sunk lower into his chest, if that was possible.

Adam sighed and held out his hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

His oldest son now in clean pants, Adam was playing with Jesse, swinging him up and down to make him giggle, when Mary shouted, “I hear the buggy! Mama’s home!”, and ran as fast as her legs could take her out the front door, her cousin Adam in hot pursuit. Hoss followed the twins as they scampered after them and Joe scooped up his son from the floor to complete the parade.

Adam held his baby on his arm and said, “You know, buddy, you’ve been the best behaved kid here today. I’m proud of you. Now let’s go out there and turn you over to your mother.”

Jesse smiled his angelic smile, waved his arms around excitedly, and vomited the contents of his stomach onto his father’s shirt.

The arriving mothers were met by their offspring with the joy, excitement, and appreciation that are generally reserved for prisoners of war greeting the forces that liberate them. Carrie was out of the carriage first, tossing the reins to Joe and hugging her little girl, who was bouncing around and babbling excitedly.

“Pa said a bad word and the twins opened the chicken coop and Uncle Hoss wet the bed, and Peter got losted, and Uncle Adam scrubbed your pot, and Adam killed Jane so Uncle Adam’s gonna buy me a new doll and…” she went on and on while Carrie took her son from Joe and listened to the tirade with widening eyes.

“What’s she talking about?” she asked while her daughter stopped briefly for a breath.

“I’ll tell you all about it, darlin’, but everything is fine…really. Not everything happened the way she said. I mean, some of the things are the same but…”

Carrie put a reassuring hand on his arm and smiled at him. It was the smile that always melted his heart. “Relax, Joe. I know that there are probably some interesting stories behind what she says, but if you say everything is alright, then that’s that.”

His shoulders slumped in relief and he felt his entire body relax for the first time since she had driven away that morning.

“Mein schatzies!”

Rebecca bent down to kiss both twins, who were trying to climb up her dress skirt and into her arms. She knelt down and put her arms around them, hugging them to her.

“Mama’s back! Mama’s back!” they chanted in unison and danced around happily.

“Yah, Mama is back. Did you have any doubt, my little loves, that I would return? No, no! I am back and now we will go home and I will make you a nice supper. You were good for your Pa, no?” And she stood up and looked at her husband for confirmation of their good behavior.

He decided to exercise the better part of valor right then. “Oh yeah, hon. They was real good. They ate all their lunch and they took a nice long nap, and this afternoon they played real nice with some toys Joe gave ‘em. Yeah, they was real good.”

He swallowed convulsively and ran his finger around the inside of his shirt collar. He was sure he was sweating. But Rebecca was beaming at the boys and missed it. When she looked at him she rewarded his version of the events of the day with a loving smile. Well, he had told her the truth…perhaps not the whole truth, but he would feed that to her slowly. He knew that the story of Peter disappearing would find its way back to her. Mary would make sure Carrie knew about it. Right now he was anxious to get her and her good mood into their carriage and back home.

“Hon, you think we can get goin’ right now? I’m awful hungry and so are the boys.”

This appeal to her wifely and motherly instincts had the desired effect. As Adam had noted earlier in the day, sometimes his brother Hoss had flashes of brilliance.

“Yah! Of course! I cannot have my boys go hungry. But what about the things we brought with us? Are they in the carriage?”

Hoss was already helping her up and handing the boys up to her. “Most of the stuff is already in here, hon. Can I get you the dirty diapers tomorrow? Do we have enough clean ones at home?” he asked.

“Oh, yah! I will drive over tomorrow and get them. That is not a problem. Now we go home and I will make a good hot supper for all of you,” she answered as he hauled himself into the carriage and picked up the reins.

“Bye Joe! Thanks for everything,” he called as he slapped the horse’s rump. Rebecca waved gaily and shouted goodbye as Hoss turned the carriage toward their house.

“My! They were in an awful hurry,” Carrie commented to Joe.

“Well, yeah. But you know Hoss. Always hungry. Probably wants Rebecca to get home and start cooking. How was the convention?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

Meg, meanwhile, was bending over young Adam and examining his forehead with concern. She ran her fingers gently over the bruise and was about to ask him how he had been injured when she spied her husband walking toward her, holding Jesse and wiping off the front of his shirt, which appeared to be quite wet. When he reached her, he placed his hand under her chin, tilted her head back, and kissed her gently.

“Welcome back. How was the convention?”

“It was wonderful. We had a marvelous time. I’ll tell you all about it later. But what happened to Adam?” she asked, taking Jesse, whose arms were outstretched in supplication towards her. She kissed him and tickled his belly while waiting for an answer.

“He got hit in the head with the swing.”

Meg placed a gentle hand on their son’s curly head. He had wrapped his arm around her skirt and leaned his head against her. How could a sturdy, impish boy like his son suddenly look so pathetic, Adam wondered, feeling worse than ever.

“Weren’t you watching him?” she asked.

This was, of course, a trick question. Adam hated trick questions and this one ranked right up there with “Have you stopped beating your wife?” How could he possibly answer her? If he said no, he branded himself, at best, an inattentive parent… perhaps even negligent in her eyes. If he said yes, how could he explain the purple egg adorning his son’s brow? Wouldn’t that mean he had stood idly by and watched while the child had been injured? Her voice and expression were in no way accusing, but he still felt like an eight-year old standing before the principal for some misdeed he had committed. He rolled his shoulders back and coughed.

“Well, it all happened so fast…”

She moved closer intending to assure him that things like this happened, when she caught a whiff of his shirt. She wrinkled her nose and said, “You don’t smell very good.”

“Yeah…well, you packed lots of clothes for the kids but you never packed anything for me to change into,” he answered her with a rueful grin.

She chuckled and pinched his cheek gently. “That’s because you’re my big boy and I didn’t think I needed to pack extra clothes for you!”

He looked at the portrait she and his boys made, standing there in Joe’s front yard. Jesse’s head was resting on her shoulder as he sucked blissfully on the thumb in his mouth. Adam still had his arm wrapped around Meg and was looking up at her adoringly. For a brief moment, he felt like the odd man out.

“Let’s go home,” was his only response.

“Anything interesting in the paper?” Meg asked as they sat in front of the fireplace that night. Supper was over and the boys were sleeping. It was her favorite time of the day. Work was over and she and Adam had an hour or so to spend quietly together before bed. Sometimes he strummed softly on his guitar and they might quietly harmonize to a favorite song. Other times he would read to her from a book or the newspaper as she knitted or crocheted. Tonight she was rocking and working on a new shawl for herself while he scanned a copy of The Territorial Enterprise which she had bought for him while she was in town that day.

“Not really.”

She let her knitting drop into her lap, cocked her head, and looked at him. His behavior had been a little…well…odd…ever since they got back from Joe’s. She finished the row, placed everything carefully in her workbasket, then got up and knelt at his feet. She crossed her arms over his knees and rested her chin on her forearms.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He lowered the paper slightly and looked at her over its top.

“Talk about what?”

“I don’t know. You act as if something’s bothering you…or at least on your mind. Did something else happen at Joe’s that you didn’t tell me about?”

He chuckled and lowered the paper a little further. Over the course of the evening he had told her about the activities and adventures of his day, including the burnt oatmeal. She had clucked in sympathy, while privately feeling grateful that he had learned first hand that her work could sometimes be as demanding as his own.

“I ‘fessed up to everything, I promise you.”

“Then what is it? You’ve seemed a little…distant…all evening.”

He folded the paper and tossed it onto the table next to him. He paused a moment before speaking.

“I’ve been thinking about lions.”

Her eyebrows went up in surprise.

“Lions? Do you mean mountain lions? Are they killing the stock again?” she asked.

“No, not mountain lions. African lions.”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion, but he continued before she could say anything.

“I read about African lions once. They live in groups called prides. The prides are mainly run by the females. Usually there are several females and they’re generally related to each other…mothers, sisters, and nieces. They do all the hunting and they take care of their cubs. The male lion in the pride mates with them and keeps other males away, but, aside from that, he doesn’t contribute much. The lionesses form a tight little band and take care of just about everything.”

He stopped and looked at her. She waited silently for him to continue.

Absently he scratched his ear and then said, “When you got back today the boys couldn’t wait to get to you. I looked at the three of you and you seemed like a little pride all of your own.”

She was stunned by what he was saying. From the day she had first met him, Adam Cartwright seemed the epitome of the independent, self-confident male. He was strong in his convictions and uncaring of other people’s opinions when they differed from his own if he believed he was right. She had learned to read him by observation because he wasn’t given to verbal introspection. She had gathered from remarks made by his brothers and father that events had occasionally pitted the three of them against him. He loved his family and she imagined that these circumstances must have caused him pain. Now he seemed to be saying that he felt excluded in his own little family. She was surprised and very touched that he shared this with her, but she knew his thinking was wrong and she had to set him straight.

She took both his hands in her own and spoke as earnestly as she could.

“Adam, we’re not a pride of lions. We’re a family. Right now it might seem to you that the boys need me more than they need you. Well, they’re little and they do need me for some things that only a mother can provide. You’re gone a great deal of the time, working hard for all of us. That’s not something they can appreciate yet. But the day is coming…all too soon, I’m afraid…when Mama’s kisses and hugs won’t seem nearly as attractive as a day hunting with Pa. They’ll draw back from me and turn to you to teach them all the things they need to know to grow into good boys and responsible men…things I can never teach them. They ran to me today, but Adam already flies out the door the minute he hears you ride up at the end of the day. Your importance and influence in their lives will grow each day. I have these first few years to give them a mother’s gifts…sensitivity and an appreciation of the gentler things in life. But you must see that even though they’ll always love me, they’ll look to you more and more as their teacher and as someone they can imitate.”

She sighed and smiled somewhat sadly as she looked into his eyes. “That’s why I hope that someday we’ll have a little girl. Girls tend to stay closer to their mothers. But, in any case, I can’t think of a man on earth whom I’d rather have our boys model themselves after than you.”

He grasped her upper arms and stood up, pulling her up with him.

“”How’d you get so smart?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

She shrugged.

“It’s just common sense. You’d have figured it out yourself if you weren’t so tired from such a rough day,” she replied modestly. “But you may have been right about some things with that analogy to a pride of lions.”

“Like what?”

“Well,” she said, tilting her head coyly and grinning, “I think one of the jobs of the male lion is to keep his lioness happy and satisfied. What do you say, King of the Beasts? Are you too tired for that important responsibility?”

He laughed back at her. “It seems I have little enough to do, so I guess I should make an attempt to perform my few duties to the best of my ability,” he replied as he nudged her in the direction of their bedroom.

He did such an excellent job that his lioness practically purred. As for the King of the Beasts—he roared in satisfaction.

SCHOOL

“I’m helpin’, Pa! See?”

“Yes I do. Just what are you making?” Adam asked three and a half year old Beth as he walked over to where she was perched at the long kitchen table. She was busy pummeling, patting, and shaping a rather grubby looking ball of dough.

“Bikits.”

“Biscuits, Beth,” her mother corrected her. Meg was standing with her back to them, stirring something on the stove.

“Bis-cuits,” Beth repeated carefully, giving the dough another kneading. She pursed her pink lips and held her flour-dusted face up for her father’s kiss. She wasn’t disappointed. He gave her a hearty kiss, then picked her up and with a shout of “whoops!” he cradled her in his arms like a baby. He placed his lips on her belly and blew hard, rubbing his nose back and forth against her middle. She giggled hysterically. He righted her, gave her another kiss on her cheek and put her back in the chair. She smiled up adoringly at him.

“Pa, will you make me a pool?”

“A pool?”

“For knitting. Mama says she can teach me to pool knit, but I don’t have no pool.”

“Meg, what’s she talking about?”

His wife did not turn to face him. Their argument had been going on for almost two weeks and she was still angry. His patience was wearing thin.

“She means ‘spool’ not ‘pool’. She’s too little to handle regular knitting needles but I can teach her to knit on a spool if you’ll hammer four nails into it for her.” She continued to stir the contents of the pot as if her life depended on it. “And Beth, you should say, ‘I don’t have any spool…not no spool.’”

“I can do that for you, Sunshine,” her father said. “When you’re done helping Mama, bring me a spool and I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m done!” the tyke shouted, giving the poor little piece of dough a final pat. She picked it up and trotted over to Meg, holding it up proudly for inspection. “How’s that, Mama?”

Meg looked at the pathetic little object in her daughter’s hand. It had been beaten, kneaded, pressed and compacted so much that there was little hope of it rising. It would be tough and hard and the best it could hope for was to brown somewhat in the oven.

“That’s very good, sweetie.” Meg took the biscuit, which baking would turn into something with the consistency of granite. She finally looked up at her husband and smiled sweetly. “We’ll make sure your father gets this one.”

Beth was prancing around happily and missed the look that passed between her parents. She skipped over to Adam.

“Can we make it now, Pa?” she asked, carefully avoiding the word that was difficult for her to pronounce.

Adam picked up a cloth from the kitchen sink, wet it, wrung it out, and wiped her face and hands.

“Go get the spool and I’ll see what I can do,” he replied, and she raced out of the kitchen to get an empty wooden spool from her mother’s workbasket. Adam moved behind Meg. She continued to stir the pot. Her back was as rigid as a metal pole.

“She’s definitely her mother’s daughter.”

“Oh?” she answered coolly.

“Mmm hmm. I know for a fact that you love it when I kiss your belly.”

The spoon clattered in the pot. She whirled around, her eyes darting anxiously around the room.

“You shouldn’t say things like that out loud!” she hissed at him.

“Why not?” His eyes were merry. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Adam, you never know who might be listening. One of the boys could…”

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen table. “The boys are outside flying kites with the twins.”

“Still, that’s not something you should say in public,” she argued.

“I’m in the kitchen of my own home. That’s hardly out ‘in public’,” he responded. “Besides, saying it got you to look at me, which is something you haven’t done much of lately!”

She immediately dropped her eyes. She bit her lips together into a straight angry line. “That’s your own fault.”

Before he could answer, Beth bounced back into the room holding out a large empty wooden spool.

“Here it is, Pa,” she announced. “Can I watch you hammer the nails?”

He stood straight and took the spool from his little girl. “Okay, Meg. What should I do with this?”

“Just drive in four nails…here, here, here, and here,” she instructed, pointing. “Leave about half an inch or so showing. Oh! And they should be thin nails with small heads. Do you have something like that?”

“Mmm hmm. I think I can handle it.” Then he added, making a veiled reference to their disagreement, “Do you trust me to do this or do you want to do it yourself?”

She didn’t answer, but she glared at him.

He took his daughter’s hand and walked toward the back door, as she skipped along beside him.

“C’mon Beth. Let’s take this to the workshop. That’s where my tools are and even though it’s August, this kitchen is beginning to get very chilly.”

Meg watched them leave, biting her lower lip in consternation, her dark eyes troubled. Like all married couples, they had had their share of disagreements over the years. They were both strong willed and independent. But their arguments never lasted long and usually one of them could be swayed to a change of opinion if given a logical argument by the other. They were fairly good at the art of compromise. To be sure, Meg felt that Adam won out more than his ‘fair share’, but there was a good reason for that. As a new bride, she had not known about life in the west. He had warned her ahead of time that sometimes he’d have to make decisions that she might not agree with, but she should trust him that these were for her own safety and well being. Adam was never heavy handed or bossy. He was always careful to explain his reasons to her when she had to give way.

The present situation had begun in early August. Adam had come in from town and found her in the garden, picking some late tomatoes for canning. Hoss had taken all the boys fishing. He looked around for his daughter.

“Where’s Beth?”

Meg stood up and wiped her brow. It was very hot and she was wearing a large straw hat to shield her complexion from the sun.

“Well Hoss, bless his heart, brought Bitsie over, so she and Beth are playing in the house, and Annie’s taking a nap. Did you get the sugar and the lime for the outhouse like I asked?”

“Mmm hmm. How do we manage to go through so much sugar in this house?” he teased her.

“I have no idea,” she answered pertly, but with a little smile playing around her lips. “I don’t think we use more than most people, though you always claim that we do.”

Meg’s sweet tooth was a running joke between them.

“Don’t worry. I got everything you wanted and I registered Adam for school too.”

The boy would be eight in December and had been taught at home by his mother for the past year or so.

Meg immediately protested. “I can still teach him at home, Adam. There was no need to register him.”

“I want him to go to school with other children, Meg. I only agreed to let you teach him at home last year because we live farther away from town than my brothers.”

She carefully placed half dozen plump, red tomatoes in her basket. “So, have they built a new school closer to our house that I’m unaware of?”

He decided to ignore the sarcasm in her voice. “No, you know they haven’t. But he’s old enough to make the trip. The twins have been doing it for a year already.”

“But they live closer! I still think it’s too far away,” she argued.

“It’s less than two miles. He can easily make the trip on his pony.”

“I think it’s too dangerous. And he’s only seven. Something could happen to him on the way.”

“He’ll be traveling past Pa’s, then Hoss’s, then Joe’s. Everyone will be watching out for him. If it’ll make you feel better I’ll go with him for the first few days. Besides, he’s much closer to eight than seven. It’s time for him to go to school.” His tone of voice was calm and matter of fact.

She placed the last of the ripe vegetables in the basket, setting it on the ground in the garden. She brushed her hands together, then wiped them on her apron. It gave her some time to gather her thoughts.

“I can give him every bit as good an education here at home as he can get at the public school. Don’t you think I did a good job this past year?”

“Of course you did. You’re a fine teacher. If I didn’t think so I wouldn’t have agreed to let him stay home this one extra year. But there’s more to be learned attending public school than academics.” He reached over and picked up the heavy basket for her, following behind as she walked toward the kitchen. He pushed the screen door open for her and allowed her to precede him in.

“Where do you want this?” he asked nodding toward the basket.

“Oh, just put it on the shelf in the pantry. Want some coffee or lemonade?” She was busy washing her hands at the kitchen basin.

“Coffee sounds good.”

She made a fresh pot and placed it on the stove. The kitchen was incredibly hot.

“Adam, go say hello to the girls and I’ll bring this out onto the porch. It’s too hot to drink it in here.”

The cousins were playing with paper dolls in the living room. Beth was plump with long, dark curls pulled off her face with a ribbon. Bitsie, Hoss’s daughter was small, thin, and blonde. She had startling blue eyes in an elfin face and straight hair done up in braids.

Like salt and pepper, Adam thought, just before he greeted them. After making an appropriate fuss over their dolls, he strolled gratefully onto the cool porch. He sat in the wide swing, his arms stretched out along the back. There was a little breeze here and a fine old elm shaded this side of the house. In a few minutes Meg appeared carrying a cup of coffee and a slice of pie.

“I’ll be back in a second. I just want to get some lemonade for the girls.”

He smiled his appreciation, took a sip of the coffee and enjoyed the sight of her walking back into the house. Yessir, he thought to himself, she’s a mighty fine looking woman, coming or going!

She was soon sitting across from him in a little rocker, sipping on a tall glass of lemonade. Nugget, their dog, was stretched out at the end of the porch with the most shade.

“I really don’t see the need for Adam to go to school yet,” she reintroduced the subject. “He’s very young to be sending out into the world.”

Her husband smiled in amusement. “I don’t think attending public school can really be equated with ‘sending him out into the world’. Besides, it’s time he met new people and made some friends.”

“He’s got plenty of friends,” she objected. “He’s got his cousins and every week he sees other children in Sunday school.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Adam said, finishing off his pie and placing the plate on the porch floor. “I think he should meet all kinds of kids…learning to live with people who are different from you is an education in itself.”

She rocked silently for a moment, planning her next argument. “Well, Luther Healy is still teaching, isn’t he? And you know he hasn’t liked me ever since…”

“Ever since you told him off 10 years ago?” Adam finished her sentence. “Meg, I doubt he even remembers that! He’s married now, with children of his own.”

“Still, he might hold that against Adam and not mark him fairly. Oh, I’m not saying he’d do it on purpose, but…”

She was interrupted by her husband’s laughter. “You can’t be serious! You actually believe that a grown man would give bad grades to a little boy because of some trivial incident that took place over a decade ago?”

Her eyes widened and flashed angrily. “It wasn’t a trivial incident! At least not to me!” She was rocking in an agitated manner and he decided to defuse the situation before she rocked herself backwards and right out of the chair.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. It wasn’t trivial. But your fears are unfounded because Healy doesn’t teach the younger students anymore. They’ve hired a young woman to teach the primary grades.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Mmm hmm. Her name is Sarah Drayton and she just graduated from a teacher college in Chicago. She moved out here with her brother, who’s not in the best of health, I take it. They’re hoping the drier climate will be good for him.” He finished off the coffee and the cup joined the empty plate on the floor.

“So you think it’s a good idea to trust our son’s education to a young girl with no teaching experience! I can’t believe you can be so cavalier about this.”

Adam closed his eyes and sighed. “Listen, it’s hot and I’m tired and I really don’t want to have this discussion right now. Whether it was stated or not, it was my understanding that you’d teach Adam at home for one year and then he’d go to school with the other kids. I know it’s hard for you to let go. He’s our first and you’re very attached to him. It’ll be easier with the other three. But he should be in public school like everyone else. As far as I can see there’s no good reason to keep him out.”

He picked up the dirty plate and cup from the floor, stood up and moved toward the front door.

“There are good reasons,” she insisted, “other reasons.”

“Not now,” was the only response she received as he walked into the house.

She was annoyed. To disagree with her point of view was one thing, but to be so dismissive of her was almost unforgivable. She had half a mind to follow him and continue the discussion, but then thought better of it. Taking a deep breath, she decided that he was right about one thing. He was exhausted and it was hot. She’d wait till he wasn’t so tired and catch him in a good mood. She was sure she could make him see her point of view.

The weather had modified somewhat. The evenings were beginning to cool nicely. Meg lay in her husband’s arms. They had just made love and both were feeling satisfied, relaxed, and quite content. Her head rested on his chest and her arm was draped over his middle. His chin rested on the top of her head, and he played with her hair, marveling as always at its silky texture. They had discussed several trivial topics and she thought that he might be about to drop off to sleep, so she spoke.

“Today I thought of a very good reason why Adam shouldn’t go to the public school. He’s too smart.”

She bounced up and down gently from the chuckles emanating from within his chest. He was laughing. It was a good sign.

“Is that your unbiased opinion?” he asked, smiling in the dark.

“You shouldn’t laugh. It’s not just my opinion. It’s a fact,” she stated emphatically.

“Alright. I won’t laugh,” he promised. “But you’re going to have to explain what you just said. I mean he’s a bright kid but…”

She was feeling very pleased with herself. Her plan to wait and tackle the issue when he was in a better mood was working. Surely he would now see the logic of her arguments.

“Well, I’ve been his teacher and I believe he’ll be ahead of anyone else his age. They’d have to put him in a class with older students, and that wouldn’t be good for him. You have to agree that he should be with children his own age. I’m absolutely certain he’s learned more than they teach to the seven and eight year olds in that school!”

He was silent a moment. Meg thought he was considering her argument, but in fact he was wondering just what it really was that made her so opposed to sending their oldest child to school. At last he answered her.

“I’m sure they’ll test him and put him in the classes where he belongs. If he’s ahead in some subjects he’ll be with older students. If not, he’ll be with those his own age. He’s mature for his age. I’m sure he can handle it.” He stroked her cheek and kissed the top of her head. “I’m tired and I want to go to sleep. But tomorrow we’re going to find out the real reason you don’t want him to go to school.”

“I’ve given you the real reason…lots of them!”

“No you haven’t. You may not even know what it is yourself. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.” And he released her and rolled onto his side.

She couldn’t believe it. He had dismissed her again! She felt like kicking him, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. When he got like this nothing would change his mind, so she might just as well get some sleep. She turned her back to him and continued to mentally refine her arguments till she drifted off.

A problem on the ranch postponed their discussion for several days. A nasty and highly contagious disease had spread among the cattle in the district. About one third of the Ponderosa stock was affected. The cattle that were kept in pastures in the high country had not been infected, but those in the lower pastures had to be killed and their bodies burned to prevent the spread of the sickness. It was a crisis of mammoth proportions for some of the smaller cattlemen and Ben and his sons were working frantically to save their own herds, as well as see how they could help out their less fortunate neighbors.

The hot weather had returned with a vengeance. Adam rode wearily into the yard and dismounted. He was late for dinner, but not very hungry. He walked Sport into the barn and unsaddled him. Having worked with cattle for most of his life, Adam was convinced they were amongst the stupidest of God’s creatures. Nevertheless, he hated the mass killings that had taken place over the last few days. His nose was filled with the stench of the burning bodies. Most of that work was done, but now plans were being made to keep the unaffected herds in the high country much longer than usual. Feed would have to be hauled up to them and men posted to make sure they didn’t start to wander off. They couldn’t remain there the entire winter, but the longer they stayed put, the better. Time and cold weather might kill off the remainder of the disease in the lower elevations. It was the best they could do.

He walked slowly out of the barn and saw his older boy headed toward him.

“Adam,” he called out. “I want you to brush down Sport and feed him. He’s been ridden hard all day so you do a good job, okay?”

“Yes, Pa,” the boy answered, his eyes wide. Sport was his father’s favorite mount. To be entrusted with his care filled him with pride.

“Should I water him too, Pa?” Father and son were now facing each other in the middle of the yard. Adam looked at his oldest child. He was very bright and was becoming increasingly conscientious, frequently requesting to be given more responsibility around the house. He was a handsome little lad with his father’s dark wavy hair and his mother’s brown eyes. Sturdily built, he gave promise of being as tall as his father some day, if not taller.

It’s time he was in school with other children, Adam thought, though he felt too tired to bring the subject up with Meg just then.

“Brush him down first and let him cool off. Then water and feed him. You know what to do. I trust you.”

The boy positively beamed and ran off toward the barn.

Adam found Meg in their bedroom. He paused, leaned against the doorjamb, and watched a scene that he could never tire of. Meg rocked gently back and forth in her little rocker humming softly. Baby Annie lay across her lap, nursing enthusiastically. The child was almost a year old, but Meg had held off weaning her because she believed this might be her last baby. One of Annie’s chubby little hands played with a button on her mother’s dress. Meg was twirling a soft brown baby curl around one finger as she gazed into her little daughter’s face.

How many times had Adam seen his wife in this exact situation? He couldn’t count them all. With four children, Meg had spent a considerable amount of time in that rocking chair. Yet each time he saw her, it was as if it was the first time. He was filled with emotions that he couldn’t name each time he saw her like this. A feeling of peace and normalcy surrounded the domestic scene.

She looked up and smiled. “You must have had a rough day.”

“I’ve had better.”

He approached her and lightly touched the baby’s head, then ran the back of his fingers against Meg’s exposed breast.

“Dinner’s in the warmer on the stove.”

“Thanks. I’m not very hungry. What is it?” Before she could answer he held his hand up, palm facing her. “Please don’t tell me it’s beef.”

The baby had drifted off and stopped suckling. Meg placed her gently in her lap and buttoned up her dress. Then, cradling the child, she rose and walked toward the room Annie shared with Beth. She placed her in her bed and covered her.

“It’s not. I fried some fish. There’s that and hash browns and vegetables.”

“I’m not very hungry,” he repeated.

“Adam, you have to eat. Go wash up and I’ll put it out on the kitchen table.”

He ambled off in the direction of the kitchen, while she checked the baby one more time. Their kitchen was very modern by any standards. He had a pump rigged up at the soapstone sink, so Meg didn’t have to haul water from the well. He had surprised her one day by bringing home an ice box.

“I don’t need that,” she had exclaimed, while examining the new addition to the large room. “We have a perfectly nice spring house and many things keep well in the cellar.”

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “This way you don’t have to run back and forth to the spring house. And I don’t like you climbing up and down the cellar ladder all the time. It’ll save you some work. I’ll make sure there’s always ice in the upper compartment and the boys can be responsible for emptying the drip tray.”

“You’re spoiling me,” she told him with a smile, then kissed him in appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

“I wish you’d get some permanent help in here,” he responded. He had been after her for some time to hire someone to help with the housework.

“I don’t need anyone. You keep bringing home all these modern conveniences. There’s hardly anything for me to do.”

He knew this wasn’t true. She was busy from morning till night minding the children, cooking, cleaning, mending, sewing, tending her garden, and taking care of all the other domestic chores. And she always made sure they had a little time together. He wondered sometimes where she got all her energy.

Adam washed up and as he was drying off Meg came into the kitchen and placed the warm plate in front of him. He sat down and she asked, “What would you like to drink?”

“A beer.”

She chuckled. “You know we don’t have any beer. You have to go into town for that.”

“Then I guess a glass of cold water…a really big glass,” he answered.

After getting the water, she sat down opposite him, watching him pick at his food. That should have been a clue to her that he was extremely tired and perhaps not quite up to another discussion about the future of their older son’s education. But she missed it.

“I thought of another reason why Adam shouldn’t go to school in town,” she began, picking a piece of hash brown potato off his plate and eating it. He didn’t reply, continuing to move food around his plate in a desultory fashion.

“We’ve tried to raise him to be somewhat refined in his tastes and thinking. Mixing with all those town children, he could pick up all sorts of unacceptable ideas and behavior. Some of those young people are very rough.”

This caught Adam’s attention. He put down the fork and looked her in the eye. “I never figured you to be a snob, Meg. I grew up mixing with “all sorts” of people in town, some of whom were much rougher than anyone you’ve ever met here. It didn’t seem to have a bad effect on me…unless you think differently?”

His response flustered her. “I don’t think that wanting the best for your children makes you a snob. And of course I didn’t really mean… that is…of course I don’t think that you…”

He cut her off in mid-sentence. “What you mean is that you want to raise the boy to be a sissy.” He pushed the plate away from him and rose from the table. “I’m tired of all this nonsense. The decision is legally mine and he’s going to school. And I’m going to take and bath and get some sleep.”

With that he stalked out of the room.

She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d reached over the table and slapped her. Angry, indignant tears flooded her eyes. She wiped them away impatiently with the back of her hand. Her husband had always treated her with respect and that included respecting her opinions. They didn’t always agree, but he never laughed at her ideas or discounted their validity. She had believed that he felt that she was an equal partner in their marriage. But now! Now he was claiming his “legal right” to disregard her feelings and wishes. She would have never believed he could be capable of such behavior.

Domestic issues and childcare took up the remainder of her day. By the time she crawled into bed Adam was already asleep. She watched him and for a moment her heart softened. He must have been very tired to go to bed so early. Why hadn’t she realized that? She hadn’t paid much attention, but apparently the problems with the cattle persisted. She hated it when they argued. It made her feel very much alone.

It was times like this when she missed Boston desperately. Of course she had made friends in Nevada, but sometimes she still felt like an outsider. Carrie was as much a Cartwright as any of the men, and Rebecca was so deliriously happy in her present circumstances that Meg felt she wouldn’t understand such feelings. In fact, Meg felt disloyal just feeling them. But she couldn’t prevent the waves of homesickness that occasionally washed over her. Instead of seeing her life in Boston as one of loneliness and poverty, she remembered only the good…her Aunt Beatrice, her friends, the rollicking Bonelli family, her satisfaction with her work, and her beloved ocean. The sadness would pass as soon as all was right between her and Adam again, and she would remind herself of how much better off she was in Nevada with a husband she adored, four beautiful children, a warm and loving extended family, and a secure future.

As these thoughts raced through her mind, the word “legal” also made an appearance. All sympathy suddenly evaporated and the feelings of anger resurfaced. Why couldn’t Adam see things her way on this subject? To be fair, he had given her what he thought were good reasons for their son to attend the public school. And maybe her last point about mixing with all types of children did sound conceited and snobbish.

In Boston she had had friends from every economic level, but it was different in Nevada. Adam had introduced her to a number of people who were very peculiar according to Eastern standards. There were several women who wore pants, just like a man, and their manners were incredibly rough. Good hygiene wasn’t a high priority for some of the men. Once she had suggested that they give some of Adam’s old clothes to a particularly poorly dressed old rancher that stopped them in town for a word with her husband.

“He doesn’t need them,” he replied to her suggestion. “Old Barney has plenty of money.”

“Then why doesn’t he buy some decent clothes?”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he’d rather spend his money over in the saloon.” When she raised an eyebrow, he added, “I told you that people here aren’t like those back East, didn’t I? Barney’s a good man, honest and hard working. It’s not our business to criticize how he dresses or what he does with his money. Sweetheart, you have to remember there’s a different way of judging people out here.”

And she learned he was right. When she got to know these new people she realized that they were, for the most part, struggling against mighty odds to make a living and a home for themselves in this rough part of the country. They were unselfish to a fault, kind, and decent. They could surely be forgiven their little oddities. Many she now counted as friends. She learned to reserve judging anyone that her husband introduced her to. Though a number of them were rather eccentric, none were bad people. Adam had commented more than once that he was proud of the way she treated everyone kindly, without regard to Eastern concepts of ‘social standing’. She realized her remarks had disappointed him and she regretted them.

Still, she wasn’t as distressed over his disagreeing with her as she was with the way in which he had ended the discussion. She scuttled as far away from her husband as she could get and fell into a fitful sleep.

And now she was back at the stove preparing supper while Adam hammered four nails into a spool for Beth. He had been busy all day, leaving almost before dawn. There had been little opportunity for conversation, for which she was grateful. He knew she was angry but he couldn’t possibly know how angry. The trouble was she wasn’t sure what to do next. She had had hours and hours to think about what he had said. Instead of asking herself why her son’s attendance at the public school was upsetting her so, she dwelt on her husband’s angry last words on the subject. Her indignation and ire were growing nicely, stewing within her just like the meat in the pot she was stirring.

Supper was a rather silent affair. Then there were the evening chores, stories to be read to the children, and bedtime. Their personal quiet hour together was exactly that…quiet. Finally Meg packed up her knitting and said, “I’m going to bed.”

She lay there miserably till Adam joined her. To her amazement, he reached over for her and began to nuzzle her neck. She remained inert and unresponsive.

“What’s the matter?” he whispered seductively, batting her earlobe playfully with his tongue. His voice was deep, rich, and smooth as silk. His hand caressed her waist and began to slide up toward her breast. “Not in the mood tonight? Too tired?”

She waited just a second before replying coolly, “It doesn’t really matter, does it? You just go right on whether I’m in the mood or not. I wouldn’t want to be accused of denying you your legal rights.”

He froze in place. It was just as well that it was dark in the bedroom. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice, now quietly angry and full of contempt, said it all.

“I’m a patient man, Meg, but I don’t like playing these kinds of games. If you don’t want me to touch you, just say so. I won’t come anywhere near you.” And he flung the covers aside and strode out of the room.

She lay there for a minute. Instead of being filled with glee that her verbal arrow had struck home, she was appalled at herself. She rose slowly and moved toward the door. She could see Adam sitting on the couch facing the empty fireplace. She was filled with shame at what she had said to him and what it had implied. She understood that some women considered sex a duty that had to be performed periodically to satisfy the desires of their husbands and to beget children. Their marriage bed had never been like that. It was a place of joy, laughter, tenderness, and love as well as physical satisfaction. Adam had always been a considerate and patient lover. The physical aspect of their relationship had improved over the years. Now she had told him that she would grant him his legal rights. She didn’t know which concept was more repulsive…the notion that he had rights over her body because of a piece of paper, or that he could receive these rights only if she was willing to grant them.

“Adam?” She approached him slowly, chewing on her lower lip.

He looked up but didn’t say anything.

“Adam, I’m sorry about what I just said. It was a hateful thing to say and I’m not sure why I…” her voice trailed off softly.

He continued to look at her, his expression unreadable. Though his face could be extremely expressive, he had the ability to hide his feelings and thoughts behind an unsettlingly blank visage.

“Actually,” she continued, “I do know why I said it. It was to get back at you because you said you had the legal right to decide about Adam’s schooling.”

He remained silent. It was unnerving. She began to panic, thinking she had done more damage than she had the ability to correct. Words were powerful things and she was sure she had gone too far. She remembered his tone of voice back in the bedroom and shivered.

“What I said to you was much worse than what you said to me,” she went on, nervously playing with the material of her nightgown. “You were tired and hot and said what you said just to shut me up. I know I’ve nagged you about this for the last few weeks. If I had had the sense to see that you didn’t want to…well, I didn’t. I just kept on and on about it. So that was really my fault.”

Silence.

She moved a bit closer. Her heart was beating a rapid tattoo in her chest Had those few nasty sentences she uttered forever changed their relationship?

“What I said was worse because I said it to hurt you.” Her eyes were now filling with tears. “I wanted to hurt you because I was hurt by what you said. But you see the difference, don’t you? You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. So what I did was much worse. It was calculated. It was…” She couldn’t choke out any more words. Her chin was wobbling and she pressed her fist to her lips.

He held out his hand. “Come here.”

She practically launched her self into his arms. Tears streamed down her face and she was sobbing in earnest. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Can you forgive me?” she blubbered into the front of his nightshirt.

He stroked her back and held her quietly, saying nothing except “shhh, shhh” until her weeping was reduced to a few pathetic hiccups. She took a deep breath, pulled back and looked up into his face.

“I really am sorry for what I said. I don’t know what’s come over me lately. I don’t know why I’m behaving so emotionally. Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself.” She paused and wiped her nose with the back of her nightgown sleeve, just as a child might. “Do you hate me?”

Finally his expression softened. “I could never hate you.”

She collapsed with relief against him and lay there silently for a minute. Then she snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Are you pregnant?”

She heaved herself away from his chest and stared at him. “No!”

He smiled. “Well, then, that’s not it. You get a little touchy sometimes when you are.”

She punched him playfully, then resumed her former position. He kissed the top of her head.

“Adam’s going to go to school in town, sweetheart. I just can’t figure out why you’re so dead set against it.”

“I thought I gave you a lot of reasons.”

“Yes, and some of them were legitimate. But you’re over reacting. I’m not sure why.”

She sighed. “I want him to have the best education we can give him. I want him to go to college. He’s smart and he could be anything he wanted to be if he was given the chance. Don’t you want that for him too? I think his opportunities are limited in Virginia City.”

He didn’t answer her right away. “I grew up here and managed to go to college…a very fine college. I came back because it was my choice. I could have stayed out east. The opportunities were there. But this is my home and I came back. I’ve been able to put some of my education to good use here on the ranch.”

“As much as you wanted to?” She knew this was a sore point with him.

“No, not as much as I wanted to, but enough to give me a sense of satisfaction. I want Adam to have those choices as well. You’re right. He’s smart. He’s also mature for his age and he’ll be a good student. I have no doubt that he’ll get into college if that’s what he wants to do. But you have to accept that as he gets older he’s going to make more decisions for himself. We can guide him, but that’s it. Would it bother you so much if he decided he wanted to be a rancher and maybe didn’t want to go to college?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “I married a rancher. But ranching is such hard work. I see how difficult it is sometimes for you and your father and brothers. I just thought that with an education he might choose some job that’s a little easier. Do you think he might choose not to go to college?”

“I think that it’s much too soon to talk about college when he’s not even eight years old. What other things bother you about his going to school in town?”

She repositioned herself again to get more comfortable. “Well…I know you called me a snob, but I’m very worried about the types of children he’ll be exposed to in town. I’ve seen them when I go shopping. Some of them are loud and rough and even rude. I don’t want him to be a sissy, but we’ve raised him to be polite and respectful. Who knows what kinds of bad behavior he may try to imitate?”

Adam tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eyes. “Listen, dear heart, sooner or later he’ll meet those kinds of people. It’s better that he does it now, so we can watch his reactions and correct any behavior we don’t like. We’ve had more than seven years to instill our values in him. Now it’s time to see what he does with them.” And he started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“I was just thinking about me…how old I was when my values were tested.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Poor Pa!”

He had her complete attention.

“Are you saying there was a time when you weren’t perfectly behaved?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t believe that!”

“Oh, there was a time alright. But I was older and the trouble I got into was much worse than anything a seven-year-old could. Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he added, seeing the look on her face. “I didn’t do anything very bad, but compared to how I was before, well, my father didn’t know what to make of me. So he sent me off to college.”

“Oh Adam, tell me about it!” she asked, snuggling closer. It was difficult to believe her husband had ever been anything other than a model child.

“Okay. Well, I was pretty well behaved when I was little. Then Pa married Marie and she kept me more or less in line, when we’d finally made our peace.” Meg was aware of the fact that Adam hadn’t taken to Marie when Ben first brought her home.

“After she died,” he continued, “I met up with two brothers…the Bonner brothers. I was about seventeen. They intrigued me because they lived life so differently than the way I had been brought up. They were wild, drinking and carousing on the weekends. They didn’t go to school. They’d dropped out long ago. They worked here and there as ranch hands, mostly doing dirty jobs that no one else wanted. When they had a few dollars saved they’d quit and go out and raise Cain.

Pa kept me on a short leash, but I started sneaking out on Friday nights to be with them. Then it was on weeknights. I began to be late for breakfast and a few times I overslept altogether. As you can imagine, my father wasn’t amused. The last straw was when Roy Coffee put me in jail for drunk and disorderly behavior. Pa hadn’t been keen on me going to college…didn’t see the need of it for a rancher, which is what he assumed I’d be. But he packed me off to Boston really fast.”

“You didn’t put up a fuss? I mean, just being sent off like that?”

“Nope. I’d always loved going to school. Plus it was a chance to go somewhere else and see new things. Oh, I protested a little bit, but secretly I was thrilled.”

Meg shook her head in disbelief. “I would never in a million years have thought that you would have behaved like that!” She pulled his head down and kissed him. “Even after ten years of marriage we can still learn things about each other, I guess,” she said softly.

He kissed the tips of her fingers. “I learned something too. I learned my kitten has claws I didn’t know about.”

Her eyes grew sad. “I truly am sorry for what I said. Do you forgive me?”

He kissed her woebegone face. “Yes, I forgive you. You were provoked, I suppose. I ought to watch what I say too.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes. Then Adam began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“It seems like this is a night for memories. If I recall, the night I proposed to you we ended up in exactly this position on Pa’s settee. And you fell asleep. Then I carried you off to bed and kissed you, very chastely, I might add.” He paused, smiled, and looked off into the distance. “I wonder if I can still…?” And with that he slipped his free arm under Meg’s knees, and with one fluid motion stood up with her in his arms.

She giggled. “Are you going to carry me off to bed again?”

“Mmm hmm. But tonight’s going to end a little differently from that night,” he said with a wink.

Meg carefully wrapped the sandwich she had made for young Adam in butcher paper. She had buttered two large slices of fresh bread and placed plenty of thinly sliced chicken between them, then neatly cut it in two with her favorite kitchen knife. She wrapped several freshly scraped carrot sticks in more paper and placed them in his lunch pail with the sandwich. Then she added an apple and two large oatmeal raisin cookies, her son’s favorite. She snapped the lid on, turned and handed it to the boy.

A lump grew in her throat when she looked at him. He was dressed in his second best set of clothes, face scrubbed clean, hair neatly slicked back, boots polished, and he was holding his brand new slate. He looked so very young to her, but she had promised Adam that she wouldn’t make a scene on this important occasion. So she swallowed the lump, bent down and hugged him tight.

“Education is a very important thing, Adam,” she said. Your Pa and I are counting on you to do your very best and take advantage of this opportunity. I know you’ll behave properly and do what your teacher says. And Peter, Eric, and Mary will be there so you’ll know people.”

“I know, Mama. You told me that before.”

“I guess I did.” She hugged him one more time.

“Let’s go outside. We don’t want you to be late on your first day.”

She scooped Annie out of her high chair and Beth and Jesse followed them out solemnly. To Adam, waiting in the buckboard, it looked like a funeral procession.

“Let’s go,” he called out, and the little group hurried their pace.

“Will you bring him right home after school?” Meg asked anxiously, as their son climbed into the buggy.

“I can’t. I have to stop by Pa’s on the way back. Expect us at supper time.”

“That long!” she protested.

“Can’t be helped. By the end of the week he’ll be riding his pony back and forth and he’ll be home sooner. You have a good day.” To prevent prolonging the goodbye, he slapped the reins and they drove off.

Caring for three children under six years old kept Meg busy enough so that she didn’t have much time to fret. Before she knew it, Jesse was running outside shouting, “Adam’s home from school!” She grabbed Annie and hurried outside with Beth right behind her, just as her older boy was hopping down off the buckboard.

“Well, how was it?” she asked, giving him a hug.

“It was okay,” was all he said.

“Tell me all about it,” she pressed, taking his lunch pail and slate from him.

“Can I tell you later, Mama? Pa said I could play a little before dinner. Do I hafta change my clothes?”

She was taken aback, but decided not to demand that he give her a full accounting just then. That could wait for dinnertime.

“Do you have homework?”

“A little.”

“Then go change your clothes and go out and play for a while. We’ll be eating in about half an hour. You can do your homework later.”

“Thanks!” And with that he scampered off, with Jesse in hot pursuit.

She ambled over to her husband who was unhitching the horses.

“Did he say anything to you about school? Did he like it?”

“I asked him. He said it was okay.” He freed the first horse from its traces.

“That was all? Just okay?” Beth grabbed hold of the gentle old horse’s bridle and led it out of the way.

“That’s all he said. I didn’t ask any more. I didn’t want to hound him with questions. We can ask him about it at dinner.” He freed the second horse and they all walked toward the barn.

“Well he didn’t seem overly enthusiastic,” she remarked, as Adam led one horse into its stall.

“He didn’t seem unhappy either. Let it go till dinner.” And he led the second animal into its place. “When are we eating?”

“Half an hour. I’ll ring the bell.”

He reached out and took Annie from her. Beth was dancing around at his feet. “Leave the girls with me. Then you can finish making dinner in peace.”

Seeing that further talk was futile, Meg went back into the house.

Thirty minutes later they were all seated around the table. Adam was busy carving the roast while Meg tied napkins around the neck of each child and filled their glasses with milk. She took her place and they said grace. As Adam placed meat on each plate, Meg added potatoes, gravy, vegetables, and a slice of bread and butter. She cut the meat for the younger children and handed them their plates.

As he got older, Adam had learned to appreciate his father’s dictate that dinner be a peaceful meal. Ben had tried, not always successfully, to make the final meal of the day a pleasant affair. Adam and Meg followed the rules that they had been brought up with. At the table children did not speak unless spoken to.

Dinner had just begun when Jesse noticed his mother had not cut his meat. He looked up in surprise as Adam handed him a knife.

“Your mother and I thought you’re old enough now to cut your own meat, Jesse. That knife is sharp. You be careful with it,” he said with a smile.

With all the fuss being made over Adam’s first day at school, his parents had decided that this was the evening to extend a new privilege to their second child. His face lit up with delight as he took the utensil.

“Thanks, Pa,” he said, and carefully began to cut the tender Ponderosa beef.

Each of their children had been blessed with good health and hearty appetites. Meg was dying to ask Adam about school, but her motherly instincts overrode her curiosity. She waited until he was on his second helpings before she said, “Why don’t you tell us about what you did in school today, Adam.”

He swallowed the food in his mouth and took a drink of milk before answering. “Well, we did spelling and sums and reading in the morning. Then after lunch we learned some history and geography.”

That was as forthcoming as he was. He stuck another piece of meat in his mouth and chewed. His mother was undeterred by his short answer.

“Are you in any classes with the twins?”

“Some,” was all she received in reply.

Her husband hid his smile. He was sure she was frustrated by their boy’s brief responses.

“Well, which ones?” Meg persisted.

Again the youngster took his time in answering. “Well…,” he drew the word out. “Eric and I are together for reading and arithmetic. Peter is one class behind us and Mary’s one class ahead. And they’re all ahead of me in history and geography.”

Adam watched in amusement as his wife’s face flamed. So much for her theory that the boy was “too smart” for public school!

Meg quickly changed the subject to hide her embarrassment. “Did you make any new friends today?”

Suddenly the child’s tongue was loosened. He grinned from ear to ear and answered with great enthusiasm.

“Yeah! I met a new boy named Charlie Merrick. He’s real nice.”

“Merrick, Merrick,” his mother mumbled as she thought. “I don’t believe I know the family, do you Adam?” she asked her husband.

“I don’t recognize the name. Where do they live, son?”

“I think east of Virginia City, Pa.”

Meg’s wrinkled her nose. The eastern part of Virginia City was the seediest part of town. But she refrained from making any derogatory remarks, mentally warning herself against snobbery.

“Well, that’s nice, Adam. What’s Charlie like?” she asked.

This was apparently a topic upon which the boy could easily elaborate. “Oh, he’s swell! He knows about a lot of stuff and he let me switch lunches with him.”

His mother’s eyebrows shot up. “Switch lunches? You mean you didn’t eat that nice lunch I made for you?” She stopped when she saw the worried look on the child’s face. Better not to make too much of this, she thought. She altered her tone.

“It’s alright,” she assured him, as she buttered more bread for Beth. “Well, then I know what Charlie ate for lunch,” she said, with a rather forced smile. “Just what did you eat?”

Reassured by her changed attitude young Adam replied, “His mother gave him some nice, homemade fried squirrel.”

Meg’s mouth dropped open. The look on her face was so comical that her husband hid his laughter by coughing into his napkin. He had to give her credit though. She fought valiantly to maintain her composure. She closed her mouth and took several calming breaths. With a certain amount of timidity she asked, “What else did his mother make besides the…the…squirrel?” She could barely pronounce the word.

“Nothing else. That’s it. But she gave him a lot,” young Adam replied as he bit into his bread. He swallowed carefully before adding, “And you know what he did, Pa? Before he ate any of my lunch he spit all over it.”

This remark caused his brother Jesse to pay closer attention. Charlie Merrick sounded like someone he’d like to meet. He wasn’t allowed to speak, but fortunately his father asked the question that was uppermost in his mind at that moment.

“Why’d he do that?”

Young Adam shrugged. “He said it was so no one else would try and eat his lunch.”

“Well I know your mother made you an especially nice lunch. Were there other kids who wanted it too?”

“No. He just said it was something he did.”

“Oh.”

Meg sat there slack jawed, her fork suspended between her plate and her mouth, as her husband and son discussed this disgusting behavior with no more emotion than if they had been discussing the weather.

Her son turned to her. “I only gave him one of my cookies, Mama. I really like them and you gave me two so I only gave him one. Do you think that was fair?”

She appeared to be speechless, so his father kicked in, “I think it was very fair. He didn’t complain did he?”

Meg began to fume silently. Complain? That child had traded what, in her opinion, was fried rodent for her son’s lovingly prepared meal. He had better not have complained!

“No. He said my lunch wasn’t too bad.”

It took a real effort not to laugh out loud as Adam watched his wife’s face grow scarlet again. He could only imagine what she was thinking so he decided to change the topic.

“So you said that Charlie knows a lot of things. What kinds of things? Is he a good student?” Adam hoped that a positive response to this would mollify his wife’s feelings in regards to the lunch situation. And he noticed that Meg was paying close attention to the answer as she put some food on Annie’s spoon and helped their baby guide the utensil to her little mouth.

“Well, he’s not in any of my classes, Pa. He’s behind me some in school work.” But the little boy was loyal to his new friend and quickly added, “But that’s not the kind of stuff I meant. He knows about a lot of other stuff.”

His father put down his water glass and wiped his mouth. “Like what?”

“Well, he told me that if you grind pepper in the pepper mill and sniff it, it can make you sneeze! I never knew that before.”

Jesse’s head snapped around to look at his brother. From the mention of the word “squirrel” his attitude toward this school business had changed. He had felt that an awful fuss had been made over it, but apparently there was some merit to public education. There seemed to be more interesting things that you could learn than just letters and numbers.

Meanwhile, Meg was shooting venomous glances at her husband, who had hidden his smile behind his hand. He coughed and then replied, “That is an interesting piece of information, although I’m not sure what its practical uses are. What other kinds of things does he know?”

“Well, Pa, the best thing he told me was that if you light a match and hold it next to your butt when you fart, you can make a flame! Did you know that?”

“WOW! No kiddin’!” Rules or no rules, Jesse couldn’t help let that slip out. He looked at his brother with profound admiration. Maybe if he was lucky, Adam would bring this Charlie Merrick around some day and he could meet him.

But his older brother didn’t answer him. He was puzzled by his parents’ behavior. His mother had folded her napkin with exaggerated care and stood up. Her posture was positively regal.

“Excuse me. I’ve had enough,” was all she said, but something in the way she said it made him take note. She had also given his father a strange look. He wondered if anything he had said caused her to leave so suddenly. She was usually the last person to leave the table, not the first.

But his father probably hadn’t noticed any of this. He was behaving strangely as well. Adam wasn’t sure if Pa was choking or laughing. He had covered his mouth with his napkin and his shoulders were shaking as he made some very strange noises.

“Are you alright, Pa?” he asked with concern.

His father nodded vigorously but still didn’t speak.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

Napkin still firmly in place, Adam shook his head back and forth.

The boy looked at his brother Jesse and shrugged. Finally his father, apparently recovered, placed the napkin on the table and stood up. He coughed a little again.

“You four stay here and finish up. When you’re all done I want Adam and Beth to clear this table. Jesse, you mind Annie. I need to speak to your mother for a little while. We’ll have dessert later. Any questions?”

“No, Pa.”

“Good. Make sure you do as I say.” With that he headed for the front door.

For a minute the children were speechless. They could never remember dinner ending so abruptly or in such a peculiar manner.

“Whatsa matter with Mama?” Beth asked, putting down her glass of milk and watching her parents exit the room, one after the other. Annie, blissfully unaware of the tensions at the table, was putting pieces of potato on her spoon with her chubby fingers, and then trying, with mixed success, to maneuver the spoon into her mouth.

“I dunno,” Adam answered. “I hope she isn’t mad at me. Whadda ya think, Jesse?”

“Nah! She’s not mad at you. She’s mad a Pa. She looked at him real mean before she went outside.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” the younger boy answered with a shrug. “But she ain’t mad at you. Say Adam, what did it taste like?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The squirrel! You said you ate fried squirrel for lunch. What did it taste like?”

His brother considered the question carefully before answering. “Well, it tasted…it was kinda tough and..and stringy, but…it tasted sorta like…well, I guess sorta like… chicken,” was the disappointing response.

He found her out by the corral. She was standing on the bottom rung of the fencing, her arms crossed on the top rail, her behind sticking out slightly as she rested her chin on her forearms. Adam resisted the temptation to give her a pat on her bottom. He knew she wasn’t in the mood for that right now. He stepped up on the bottom rail next to her and for a moment they watched two newborn foals frolicking with each other inside the enclosure.

“This is all your fault.”

“Mmm hmm.”

She turned to look at him. “That’s all you’ve got to say? Mmm hmm?”

“What would you like me to say? The conversation at the dinner table wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t insisted he go to school, so, you’re right. It’s my fault.”

She stepped off the railing and put her hands on her hips. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“What would you like me to do about it?”

He had stepped off the railing and was facing her. His arms were crossed and his calm, unruffled manner was beginning to annoy her.

“For starters, he doesn’t go to school any more. I’ll teach him at home.”

Adam shook his head. “No. He’ll be going back tomorrow.”

“Adam! This is just the sort of thing I was afraid of. He’s taken up with a hooligan who’s teaching him all kinds of crude and uncouth things. You heard him! And that monster ate his lovely lunch and fed him fried rat! I don’t want him associating with people like that.”

“He traded his lunch for fried squirrel,” Adam said, “and we’ve eaten game before. What’s the problem?”

“Squirrel doesn’t fit my definition of ‘game’, Adam. It’s nothing more than a rat with a fuzzy tail. And he didn’t even get to eat his vegetables or the apple I packed. I’ll bet he gets sick tonight!”

“I’ll speak to him about trading his lunch,” he offered.

“It’s more than that and you know it. What kind of person spits on his food before he eats it? Or sniffs pepper to make himself sneeze? Or…or…that other thing.” She couldn’t bring herself to describe the “best” piece of knowledge that Charlie Merrick had imparted to her beloved son. “And using that kind of language at the table!”

“He only told him about something that mankind has known since some unfortunate caveman stood with his back too close to his campfire after dinner one night.”

She threw her hands up in disgust. “I didn’t know about it and I could have lived the rest of my life very nicely, thank you, with out knowing about it! Aren’t I considered part of mankind?”

“No, you’re part of womankind and that’s where the difference lies.”

Meg crossed her arms and tapped her foot angrily on the ground. “Don’t play verbal games with me, Adam. What are you talking about?”

He sighed and uncrossed his arms. He took a step closer but didn’t touch her.

“Look,” he began in his most reasonable tone of voice, “little boys go through a stage where they delight in being crude. They find any references to normal bodily functions especially funny. They try to outdo each other in making what you’d consider uncouth and rude remarks. The more disgusting they can be, the better. It’s normal. It’s how boys are. They outgrow it.”

“Oh really?” she said sarcastically. “When?”

He smiled. “When they discover girls. Girls don’t find that type of behavior funny or attractive, so they stop it…at least in front of the girls. You see? That’s why God created females…so you could make us rude, rough savages behave and acquire at least a veneer of respectability.”

As he watched, all the fight suddenly seemed to go out of her. Her shoulders slumped. She appeared as deflated as a popped balloon. She shook her head sadly and sighed.

“I just want the best for him. I don’t want him to be a sissy, but I don’t want him turning into a little hellion either. Of all the children there, why did he have to pick this Charlie Merrick as his friend?”

Adam put his arm around her shoulder and his hand under her chin. He tilted her face up so he could look into her eyes. “Maybe because he’s about as different from us as a kid could possibly be. That’s what attracted me to the Bonner brothers. Or maybe Charlie Merrick sought him out. I don’t know.”

His heart went out to her. She really was worried. He had to try to set her mind at ease.

“Listen, I’m going to talk to him about everything. I suspected something like this might happen, but I didn’t think you’d get hit with so much all at once. And I’ll make sure he knows not to trade his lunches anymore.” They had begun to walk back to the house.

Meg stopped him. “No…wait. Tell him he can trade lunches with the twins or Mary. I guess that won’t be as much fun as switching with other kids but…” She bit her lip. “And tomorrow I’ll make two sandwiches and put in two apples and more vegetables. Then he can share his lunch with his friend. Only…Adam…I really don’t like the idea of him eating squirrel.”

He smiled at her. “That’s a good idea…very diplomatic. Leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure he understands what type of behavior and language is acceptable around here.”

She put her arms around him and hugged him. “Thanks.” She looked up and tilted her head. Her face was rosy. “Adam?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that true?”

“Is what true?”

“What Charlie Merrick said about the match and…and…you know.”

He started to shake with laughter. “Are you curious?” he asked. “Am I going to have to hide the matches from you so you don’t go and set yourself on fire?”

She slapped at him rather ineffectually, because he had his arms around her.

“No,” she huffed indignantly. “I just wanted to know.” She tried to pull away but he held her. “Oh never mind!” And she continued to try and free herself from his embrace.

“It’s true.”

Her eyes popped open. “Did you ever…” she let her voice trail off.

“No.”

She stopped struggling and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Then just how do you know that?” she demanded.

He was still chuckling. “Let’s just say I know and leave it at that.” He released her.

She faced him with hands on hips. “I told you this school business was no good. I don’t think he should go back tomorrow.”

“Oh, but he has to.”

“Why?”

“Apparently his previous teacher was negligent. Didn’t you hear him say he was behind in history and geography?”

She turned and punched him on the arm. “You are the most infuriating man on the face of the earth!” she said with mock anger.

“So you’ve said before. But it’s really your own fault. You always rise to the bait. And you’re kinda cute when you get angry.”

She looked up at him and burst out laughing, then shook her head. “I guess I must love you a lot to put up with such a smart aleck.”

He slipped his arm around her waist. “Luckily for me, I guess you’re right.” He gave her a hearty kiss, then smacked her on her bottom. “Now let’s go have dessert.”

Saturday—Three Weeks Later

“Scuse me. You Miz Cartwright?”

Meg looked up in surprise. She was sitting on the porch reading and keeping an eye on Annie, who was crawling around after the dog.

“Yes, I am. Can I help you?”

“I’m Charlie Merrick. I come to see if Adam can play fer a while. Ain’t he home?” The boy proceeded to scan the yard.

The child before her was as diametrically opposed to her image of Charlie Merrick as any being could be. He was a slight boy, smaller even than Jesse. His blond hair, badly in need of cutting in Meg’s opinion, fell across a round face. He had a snub nose and more freckles than there were stars in the evening sky. His clothes appeared to be clean, though his pants reached only to his calves and one suspender hung down over his shoulder. And, in spite of the cold weather, he was barefoot. Not seeing his friend, he looked back up at her. In spite of herself, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Adam and his brother are at the pond behind the house,” she said pointing. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you, Charlie.”

“Thanks, ma’am,” he replied and scampered off.

That Evening

“Everybody in for the night?” Adam asked, as he sank back in his chair with the newspaper.

“Mmm hmm. I’m sorry you had to work all day today. You look exhausted. And we missed you at dinner,” Meg answered. She stroked her husband’s head and bent over to kiss him gently.

He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. “A few more weeks of this cold weather and we’ll begin to drive some of the herds from the higher elevations back down for the winter. Then things will be easier.”

Meg dropped into her own chair and took up her knitting.

“You’ll never guess who came by today, Adam.”

“Why not just tell me? I’m too tired to play guessing games.”

“Charlie Merrick.”

He lowered the paper and eyed his wife speculatively. “Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. I was on the porch with Annie when he seemed to appear out of nowhere. Adam, he wasn’t anything at all like I’d imagined.” She gave him a description of the little boy.

“Well you’re not wrinkling your nose or making critical remarks so I guess you didn’t find him too offensive,” Adam remarked.

She put the knitting down. “It’s the most peculiar thing. I felt sorry for him. In spite of the cold weather he was barefoot and not dressed very warmly. I suppose he walked all the way from Virginia City. He stayed for lunch and put away an amazing amount of food…as if he didn’t often eat very well. But he was clean and quite polite. And then around four o’clock a wagon pulled up and a rough looking man began calling out for him. Charlie and the boys were playing by the pond, but he came scampering back quick as anything and hopped up into the wagon. I think the man was his father and he didn’t seem any too pleased that Charlie had been away from home so long. He was yelling at him grabbed him by the collar and shook him, but he stopped when I came out onto the porch. He tipped his hat to me and said “ma’am” and then drove off.”

She got up and took a seat on the arm of Adam’s chair.

“I think maybe you were right. There are a lot of lessons to be learned in school that have nothing to do with the 3 R’s. Our children are so lucky. We can afford the very best for them. I hope that they can learn compassion for those not as fortunate.”

“And that money has nothing to do with friendship?” Adam added.

She nodded. “That too. Maybe instead of worrying if Charlie’s a bad influence, I can hope that our son is a good influence. I suppose there are a few lessons in all this for me, as well,” she admitted, quietly.

Adam put his paper aside and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Hey! I thought you were tired.”

“I’m never too tired to hear you admit I was right about something,” he teased.

“As I’ve said before, you are an infuriating smart aleck,” she responded, laughing.

“But you love me anyway.”

She draped her arms around his neck.

“But I love you anyway,” she concurred.

TOM MORRISON

Adam watched as Davis drove away in the buggy with Beth and Annie. A smile played around his lips. He trotted off in the direction of the kitchen where Meg was doing dishes.

“Hey, sweetheart, come to the barn for a minute. I’ve got something to show you,” he said, walking through the back door.

“Can it wait? I’m not done yet,” she replied, wiping a bowl and placing it on the shelf.

“Nope. You have to come right now.”

She frowned and wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, what is it?”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her in the direction of the barn. “It’s a surprise. Hurry up,” was all he would say as he pulled her after him.

When they reached the barn he told her to climb up into the loft.

She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

“I can’t tell you. Just climb up into the loft. I’ll be right behind you.”

Shrugging, she did as he said. When he had climbed up after her she turned to him and said, “Well, here I am. Now what’s the big surprise?”

He hooked his boot behind her ankle and with a gentle push on her shoulders, she toppled backwards into a soft pile of hay. The hay was so deep that she didn’t even have the wind knocked out of her. She struggled to bring herself upright on her elbows, but before she had managed to rise up even half way, Adam had his belt off and had fallen on top of her. His knee was between her legs and he supported his weight on his arms. He laughed down into her face.

“Surprised?”

“You’re crazy, Adam! What on earth are you thinking of?” she sputtered as she continued to try and get up.

He had her pinned so her efforts were futile. “I’m thinking it’s been a long time since we made love and I thought it might be fun to tumble you in the hay. So here we are.” And his grin showed just how pleased he was with himself.

“We can’t do this! What about the girls?” she protested, still struggling.

“I asked Davis to take them for a ride for about an hour. They just rode off. The boys are in school and as for the dishes…well they can wait.”

She had ceased struggling. She looked him in the eye and shook her head. “You are most definitely insane,” she began, but he dropped down farther, resting his weight on his forearms, cutting her off.

“I’m not crazy. I’m horny.”

As she watched, the look in his eyes changed from amusement to desire. He had such lovely eyes, she thought. They were a brownish-hazel that seemed to change shade depending on his mood. His lashes were unfairly long. And right now those eyes were speaking to her…and the message that they sent increased her heartbeat and created a familiar, exciting throbbing deep inside her. What magic did he possess that he could still reduce her to this state after so many years of marriage? Well, she’d ponder that later. She lay back slowly and looped her arms around his neck.

“This is positively wanton,” she said softly.

“I’ve always wanted a wanton woman,” he answered just before he covered her lips with his own.

“Hey Adam! I was just on my way out to your place. I gotta talk to ya.”

Adam had just dismounted and turned to see Sheriff Roy Coffee waving and calling to him. “Hi Roy. What’s up?”

“Well, I got some news that I think you need to hear. You remember Tom Morrison?”

Adam tossed Sport’s reins around the hitching post. “Yeah, I remember him. Why?”

“Well, I gotta tell ya that he’s outta prison. He come to town last night and was askin’ about ya at the saloon and just about anywhere else he went. Wanted to know all about what you was up to. And I’m sorry to say that there was some folks who filled him in. Told him all about how you was married, had a bunch a kids, and moved to your own place. Filled him in real good on you and yours. He always was a mean son of a gun, Adam, and I’m tellin’ ya that from what I saw, prison ain’t made him any nicer.”

Adam’s face had shown growing concern and was now positively grim. “Where’s he now?”

“I can’t rightly say. That’s what got me so concerned. He blamed you for the prison term and his wife divorcin’ him and all. Figured he wasn’t asking all them questions so’s he could pay you a social call.”

“Thanks Roy,” he said as he mounted up. Before riding off her called out, “If you see my father or my brothers, tell them to get out to my place right away.” And he kicked Sport into a gallop.

Miss Sarah Drayton was in the midst of a lesson in long division when Adam Cartwright, a man she knew as a member of the Virginia City Board of Education and the father of two of her students, rushed into her classroom.

“Excuse me, Miss Drayton. May I speak to you for a minute?”

She put down the pointer she had been holding. “Of course, Mr. Cartwright.” She addressed the class of six students standing before her. “You may be seated, children.” She and Adam spoke briefly.

Jesse and young Adam watched with surprise and a touch of fear. What was Pa doing here in the middle of the afternoon? They were even more surprised when he strode toward them and said, “We’re going home now. Let’s go.”

They started to gather their books, slates, and lunch pail, but their father stopped them.

“Leave them,” he said shortly. Then he turned to their cousin Eric. “Eric, you and Peter take their things home with you. And as soon as you see your father, tell him to get over to my house right away.”

His tone of voice left them no way to respond but, “Yes, Uncle Adam.”

Outside Adam helped his older son onto his pony. Jesse rode to school with his brother because Adam didn’t consider him responsible enough to have a mount of his own yet.

“Think Diablo can keep up with Sport?” Adam asked the older boy.

“I don’t know, Pa. He’s awful fast but Sport…,”

“Well, just do your best. Stay as near to me as possible.”

He mounted Sport and put a hand down for Jesse. “You’re going to ride with me, young man.” And he hauled his son up behind him.

“Pa, why are we..?”

“No questions now, Jesse. I’ll explain when we get home. Hold on tight. Adam, we’re not taking the road. We’ll go the back way. It’s faster. Let’s go.” And for the second time in a less than ten minutes he kicked his horse into a canter.

Annie had been put down for her afternoon nap and Meg was reading a story to Beth when she heard hoof beats in the yard.

“You look at the pictures while Mama sees who it is,” she told the little girl.

Meg arrived on the front porch, Nugget at her heels, in time to see Adam and the two boys dismount. The boys ran towards her as Adam slapped the horses on their rumps and sent them into the barn.

“What’s going on?” she asked, as the young Adam and Jesse reached her.

“We don’t know. Pa came for us at school. He said he’d tell us later. He told us to go into the house,” was what she heard from her eldest.

“Is there anything to eat?” asked Jesse, more concerned about the state of his stomach than the state of affairs that got him out of school early.

“I made molasses cookies. They’re on the kitchen table. Have some milk too,” their mother replied absently. She watched with surprise as her husband, a consummate horseman, put the horses in the barn and closed the door. Something must be very wrong for him not to unsaddle and care for those animals.

“Go into the house like your Pa said,” she added, and she began to walk toward Adam. The boys ran past her into the house, the dog right behind them.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, as they met mid way between the barn and the house.

“I want you to get into the house right now,” he answered tersely, taking her elbow and turning her around. “I’ll explain in…”

“CARTWRIGHT! YOU SON OF A BITCH.”

Adam wheeled around. Tom Morrison had apparently been hiding behind the barn. He was now face to face with Adam, standing about 10 yards away. He had a gun belt strapped to his hip and his stance indicated her was ready for a fight.

Meg was standing on her husband’s left side and turned at the outcry. Adam slowly began to raise his left arm, intending to push her behind him, when Morrison drew. He was fast, but so was Adam. The shots seemed to ring out simultaneously. A deadly silence followed. It seemed to drag on interminably.

“You…you…”.

Morrison never finished his sentence. He crumpled in a heap on the dusty ground, blood spurting from his mouth. With a mixture of relief and regret Adam slowly holstered his gun.

“Adam?”

He looked down at his wife. Meg’s head was bent and she was watching as a hideous red stain on her shirtwaist seemed to come alive, grow, and spread its ugly tentacles along her chest. She looked up at him, her face wearing an expression of bewilderment. Then he watched in horror as her eyes rolled back and her legs buckled. He caught her before she hit the ground.

“No! Oh God, no!” he rasped.

He lifted her, cradling her body to his own. The boys and Beth had run out onto the porch after hearing the shots. They ran towards him as he made his way to the house, their eyes darting between the body in the yard and their father.

“Pa, what hap…”

“Adam, get on Sport and go into town. Get Doc Martin and bring him here. If he’s not in town, find him! Your mother’s been hurt.” He turned to his younger son. “Jesse, you take Diablo and go to Grandpa’s. Find out where he is…where your uncles are. Just find someone and bring them back as fast as you can.”

“But Pa…”

“No questions. Just move!” he roared, and the boys took off. Still headed toward the house, Adam addressed his daughter. “Beth do you think you can take the blankets off my bed?”

The child’s eyes were huge. Pa said her mother was hurt and she could see blood. She was almost paralyzed with fear.

“Beth!”

“Yes, Pa. I can do it,” she answered, and ran ahead of him into her parents' bedroom. She pulled all the covers off the neatly made bed just as her father strode into the room. He placed Meg down gently and sent his daughter away for water and clean cloths.

He had a hard time with her clothes. She was wearing a bibbed apron over her shirtwaist and skirt. Adam didn’t both with niceties. He pulled the apron off and ripped open her top. There was so much blood that it was difficult to see where she had been hit. He rolled her over and tugged at her corset ties, then pulled it off her, cursing and praying, all at the same time. Beth returned with cold water and some dishcloths. He sopped up and wiped away as much blood as he could while she stood silently by, terror in her eyes.

When he could finally see the wound, Adam felt a tiny bit of relief. She seemed to have been hit just above her left breast and under her shoulder. The bullet would have to be removed, but he had to try and stanch the bleeding first. He grabbed yet another cloth and pressed down firmly on the wound. He held it in place until it was soaked. Tossing it on the floor, he grabbed another and pressed it against her. The second cloth soaked up blood more slowly than the first, leading Adam to believe that her blood was beginning to clot. He threw this cloth aside and applied a third. He was somewhat relieved to see that this last cloth was absorbing even less blood than the previous one. Meg was frighteningly pale, but perhaps…

He had been so intent on caring for her that he had forgotten all about Beth. He heard a snuffling noise behind him and turned his head. She stood there, looking so very small, tears streaming down her face. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her dress.

“Is Mama hurt bad?” she asked in a quivering voice.

“Yes she is.” There was no sense lying about the situation. The child had eyes.

“Is she gonna die?”

He was careful in his answer. He knew that Meg had lost a considerable amount of blood. He wasn’t sure where the bullet was lodged. He could only be honest and offer her some hope. It was all he had himself. “I hope not, Beth. I’m going to do everything I can to try and make her well. Your brother went for the doctor. And you helped by bringing the water and cloths. We’re all doing our best to try and help Mama.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” He reached out his free arm and, tugging on her pinafore, pulled her into his embrace. He held her for a while till she had calmed down somewhat. He knew his daughter well. She wanted to be helpful and in this situation she could be of real use. He kissed the top of her head and hugged her tightly.

“Beth, I have to heat some water for when the doctor gets here.”

“I can do it, Pa,” she offered.

“No, sweetheart. I’ll do it. But I need you to stay here and hold this cloth tight on Mama. Can you do that for me?” She nodded.

He lifted her onto the bed so she was kneeling next to Meg. He showed her how to press down on the makeshift bandage. Then he went to put a pot of water on to boil. He got a bucket from the back porch and filled it part way with cold water, taking it with him back to the bedroom.

He relieved Beth at her mother’s side and, to keep her busy, had her gather up all the bloody clothes and dishtowels and place them in the bucket.

“Where’s Annie?” he asked, suddenly remembering the baby.

“She’s still taking a nap, Pa. Should I wake her up?”

“No…no, don’t do that. Let her sleep. But when she does get up you’ll have to take care of her if the doctor’s not here yet. It’s a big responsibility, but it will help me out, okay?”

She nodded again, relieved to be doing something that her Pa found useful.

“Sweetie, go wait on the porch and if anybody comes into the yard, tell them where I am.”

Beth scooted out of the room and Adam kept the pressure on the bandage.

Where the hell’s Doc Martin? he thought. One damned doctor for this whole territory. It’s criminal.

Now that he had done all he could, he had time to think…time to blame himself…time to be overcome with intense guilt. He looked at his wife’s ashen face. She showed no signs of regaining consciousness. He placed his ear over her chest. Yes, her heart was beating. Her heart…his heart…same thing. Was it only this morning that they had made love in the hayloft? It seemed like eons ago. She had been playful, then passionate. He rode off to town with a smile on his face and she went back to her chores singing. God, he loved her! He had taken her from a civilized existence in Boston and dumped her here in the middle of this god-forsaken wilderness. She had never once complained. No real shops to speak of, very little culture, saddled with four children in less than ten years, left alone for extended periods of time when he was on roundup or ranch business, and never had he heard one word of regret. It came to him suddenly how much he had taken her for granted. He groaned. How had he repaid her for making him happy, bearing his children, making this house a true home? How? A total of three trips to San Francisco…that’s how! Oh yes! And he was responsible for her being shot. Don’t want to forget that. Where the hell was the doctor? Where was anyone?

Meg moaned slightly. Her eyelids fluttered. Adam’s heart leapt into his mouth.

“Meg? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?"

She moaned softly, then was still once more. He swore to himself. Damn Morrison! Had he been aiming for him or Meg? Adam remembered hearing that the man whom he’d help send to prison had been more bitter about the divorce decree he had received in prison than the jail term itself. Perhaps Meg had been his target all along. To take her life while Adam watched would have been a just retribution in his twisted mind. Adam sighed. Or maybe he was just a lousy shot and missed his intended target. It was futile to speculate. Either way, he had extracted his revenge. Adam didn’t know how he’d live if… NO! He wouldn’t think like that. She’d recover. She had to. Where the hell was the doctor?

He heard some noise in the yard. Beth flew into the room. “Aunt Carrie’s here, Pa,” she said breathlessly.

Well, not the doctor, but at least another adult. Carrie raced into the bedroom.

“Adam, what happened?” She took one look at Meg, glanced around the room, and placed her hand over her mouth. “She’s been shot. It’s a long story. You’re not going to get sick are you?” he demanded. That’s all he needed right now.

“No…no…of course not. Do you want me to go for the doctor? How badly is she hurt? What can I do?” The questions tumbled out one after the other and she moved closer.

“I sent Adam for the doctor. Where’s Jesse?”

“He’s at Papa’s. I was there with Ben when he rode up. Hop Sing is keeping an eye on them and I sent a hand out to get Joe or Hoss or whoever he could find. It shouldn’t be long. They were fixing fence about two miles from here.” She paused. “Adam, who’s that man lying in the yard?”

“Tom Morrrson. I helped get him convicted of murder about fifteen years ago. He came gunning for me. We were in the yard when he showed up. He hit Meg. Whether he missed me or was aiming for her, I don’t know. It’s my fault one way or the other.”

Carrie was tempted to rebuke him for that last remark, but she knew Adam. At this point, no matter what she said, he’d blame himself and they’d end up arguing. There was no point in that.

“What can I do?” she asked instead.

“I don’t know,” he replied miserably. “This bullet has to come out. If the doctor’s not here in an hour, I’ll take it out myself. I’ve done it before,” he added under his breath.

“I know.” Carrie was aware of the time many years ago when Adam had removed a bullet from her own husband, whom he had shot accidentally when they had been hunting.

“If the baby wakes up, take care of her. Entertain Beth.” His eyes suddenly went wild. “God, Carrie, I sent her to wait on the porch! Get her inside. I don’t want her looking at Morrison’s body.”

“I’ll get her. Do you want anything? Coffee?” She hesitated. “A drink?”

“No, just get Beth.”

She turned and began to walk away.

“Carrie!” he called to her. She turned to face him.

“Thanks,” was all he said.

It was her undoing. Up till that point she had tried to be brave. But her dearest friend was seriously wounded and Adam was kneeling at her bedside consumed with grief and guilt. Tears sprang into her eyes and she ran toward him. She knelt down, hugging him tightly, to comfort him and to comfort herself.

“She’ll be alright,” she cried. “I just know it Adam. She’s too good for anything to happen to her. She’s still needed here. God won’t take her. He just can’t!” The last sentence was spoken harshly and almost in defiance of Divine will.

In the midst of his anguish, Adam almost had to laugh. This was the Carrie he was so familiar with…challenging God himself when her own desires might be thwarted. And in an odd way, her statement brought him a degree of comfort. He put his arm around her and they clung together briefly. Then he patted her on the back and pushed her away.

“Go take care of Beth now. Don’t let her see you crying. If I need you, I’ll call,” he told her quietly.

She nodded, rose, and left the room, wiping her eyes.

It seemed like an eternity until anyone else showed up, but within half an hour the house was swarming with people. Hoss and Joe had pounded into the yard and they began to make decisions for their distraught brother. Joe rode into town to get the sheriff and to let Rebecca know what was happening. He stopped at the school and rounded up the twins, Bitsie, and his own two children, and sent them to his father’s house to be cared for by Hop Sing. Rebecca packed up a few items and her baby, Lottie, and drove over to Meg’s.

Adam was getting ready to remove the bullet himself when Paul Martin drove into the yard, with young Adam behind him on Sport.

“Where the hell have you been?” Adam growled. Paul ignored the remark and put down his bag.

“I see you’ve prepared what I need. I think you’d better let Rebecca and me handle this Adam,” was all he said, after checking for hot water, bandages, and other necessary items.

“I’m staying.”

Paul looked at Adam’s gaunt and haggard expression. He put a comforting hand on his shoulder. This was immediately shrugged off.

“You’ve done an excellent job of stopping the bleeding. Now let me do my job. I can work better with a cool headed person helping me. That’s not you at the moment. We want this to go well, don’t we?”

Adam closed his eyes and nodded slightly. He went back to the bed and kissed Meg tenderly on the lips, ran his hand across her brow, and turned to Paul.

“Don’t let anything happen to her.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better.” And he left the room.

“For the last time, Carrie, I don’t want anything to eat!” Adam said angrily.

Carrie looked helplessly at her husband. Joe shook his head slightly, silently advising her to back off. The he motioned for her to go with him into the kitchen.

“I know you mean well, darlin’, but you’d better just leave him alone for now,” he told her when they were alone.

“You’re right. I know it. I guess I keep asking as much to give me something to do as anything else.” Tears welled in her eyes again and Joe took her in his arms.

“It’ll be alright. You’ll see,” he tried to soothe her. “Tell you what. Why not cook something up anyway? The rest of us will have to eat sometime. It’d be nice if you had something on hand. And there are the kids to think of. Where’s little Adam?”

“Hoss is with him in the barn, taking care of the horses. The poor kid rode half way round the county before he found Paul. And he’s sick with worry. Hoss convinced him that the best thing to do was to help out his father by making sure the stock was taken care of.”

“Well, at least Morrison’s body isn’t in the yard anymore. Roy took it with him when he went back to town. Pa’s due in on the 6 p.m. stage and Roy’ll let him know what happened. The rest of the kids are better off not being here. Where are the little girls?”

“Beth is keeping an eye on Lottie and Annie. I left them on the porch swing. I’ll start some dinner. You be an angel and check on them, okay?”

He hugged her tight and smiled with boyish charm.

“Your wish is my command, madam!” And he went in search of the little ones.

Forty minutes after sending Adam out of the room Paul Martin emerged, wiping his hands on a towel. Adam’s head snapped up and he sprang from his set on the sofa, his eyes questioning. Paul smiled reassuringly.

“Well, she lost a considerable amount of blood, but you did a good job in there. The bullet went deep, but missed anything vital. Fortunately for her, women have more fat in certain parts of their body than we do. I think that helped her. Her shoulder will be painful for a while and she’ll have a scar, but I don’t think she’ll experience any permanent loss of movement.”

“She’ll be alright?”

“If she doesn’t develop an infection, she should be alright,” he confirmed, watching relief flood the younger man’s face and the tension rush out of his body. “Of course, you have to get as many fluids into her as you can and make sure she doesn’t overdo it. Keep her in bed for at least a few days. Then move her to a chair for a few more. By the end of the week she can get up a move around a little.” He paused. “I see you’re beginning to smile, Adam. I have news for you. Keeping her inactive is going to be a lot harder than stopping the bleeding. You know how she is.”

“Can I see her? Is she awake?”

“Well of course you can see her, but she’s asleep. Why not give her some time to rest? It’s the best thing for her right now.”

Adam nodded and held out his hand. “Thanks, Paul. I’m sorry if I sounded a little…well…”

“Forget it. You were worried.” He chuckled. “Keeping track of you Cartwrights doesn’t leave me a lot of time for my other patients,” the doctor answered, shaking the proffered hand.

“You’re overworked. We could use another doctor around here,” Adam said seriously.

“We’re getting one.”

“Oh? I hadn’t heard anything.”

“Well, it’s not common knowledge yet. I hired an assistant…a young buck just out of medical school. Name’s Jonathan Bryson. He’s from Chicago. We corresponded a bit, then met in St. Louis last fall. Bright enough young man. Full of all sorts of new notions and ideas. But I think it’ll be good to have some new blood in the practice. And it’s hard to keep up with all the advances in medicine these days. My guess is he’ll be getting experience from me and there’ll be a thing or two that I can learn from him. Hopefully my patients will benefit from the arrangement.”

“I think it’s good news Paul,” Adam answered sincerely. “How about something to eat or drink? I think Carrie’s got something cooking in the kitchen.

“I could use a cup of coffee,” the doctor agreed. “I’ve got two more stops before I can get back home.”

The men were headed for the kitchen when Rebecca appeared at the bedroom door.

“Adam. Meg is awake and asking for you.”

“Go on,” Doc Martin told him with a smile. “I think I can find my own way.”

She looked small and frail to him as she lay there. The bedding had been changed and Rebecca had put her in a nightgown. Her eyes were closed, but they opened when she heard him. Oddly, she had that same bewildered look on her face that he had seen just before she passed out. She ran a tongue over her dry lips.

“What happened?” she asked in almost a whisper.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. “What do you remember?” he asked in response.

Her brow furrowed. She didn’t answer immediately.

“I remember that you came home early and you brought the boys with you. Jesse asked for something to eat. I sent them in the house and…and…that’s all I can recall. What happened, Adam? Why am I in bed?”

He closed his eyes. Initially he thought it might be a blessing if she couldn’t remember what happened. But now he’d have to tell her.

“Do you remember a man in the yard with us?”

She shook her head no.

He squeezed her hand a little, then continued quietly.

“A long time ago I helped put a man named Tom Morrison in prison. While he was there his wife divorced him. He was released recently and he came looking for me because he blamed me for those things. He was looking to get even. When I was in town this afternoon Roy warned me about him. I got the boys and came home as fast as I could. The kids had just gone into the house and you were standing next to me when he walked out from behind the barn. Before I knew what was happening he drew and fired. He hit you.” Adam stopped for a moment and swallowed, his throat as dry as it had ever been. He reached out and caressed her cheek. “That’s what happened, sweetheart. You were shot just below your shoulder. Doc Martin removed the bullet and sewed you up. That’s why you’re in bed.” He bent over and placed his lips next to her ear and whispered softly, his voice breaking, “I’m so sorry, Meg. I’m so, so sorry. If it hadn’t been for me then you would have never…I could have lost you…I can’t…”

She closed her eyes and reached up to stroke the back of his head.

“Sshh, sshh,” she whispered back. “It’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. How could you have known?” She winced slightly as she placed one hand on each side of his face and lifted his head off her chest. They looked into each other’s eyes. She smiled at him. He bent his head and kissed her tenderly.

“Was anyone else hurt? What about you? What about the children?” she inquired anxiously.

“No one else was hurt. The kids are fine. Jesse’s at Pa’s and the rest of them are here. It’s a long story and one that you can hear later. Right now you need to rest.” He kissed her again.

“Adam?”

“What, Precious?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He got her water and then refused to leave her side. Carrie brought him some of the food she had made for the others.

“Will you eat something now?” she demanded, as he sat by Meg while she slept.

“Yeah. Did Paul leave?”

“A while ago. I’m making some broth for Meg. He said she had to have a lot of liquids.” She handed him the plate. “Why not let me stay here and you go eat in the kitchen?”

“No,” he managed before he put a forkful of food in his mouth.

She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “Adam, she’s sleeping. There’s nothing you can do for a while.”

“I can be here when she wakes up.”

Carrie sighed in frustration. “Listen…Hoss went to Papa’s to pick up his kids and send Jesse home. Joe and I will be leaving soon. Rebecca and Lottie are spending the night and I’ll be back in the morning. But your children are going to need you. We’ve explained what we can, but they need to hear from you. Let me sit here and you go out and talk to them. I swear I’ll call you if she wakes up.”

She thought he was going to refuse, but to her surprise he stood up and carried the plate to the door. He stopped and looked back at her.

“You call me the minute she opens her eyes.”

She crossed her heart with her fingers.

“I promise. Now go talk to your kids.”

“Aunt Rebecca said Mama’s better. Is she better Pa? Can we see her? Can we talk to her?”

Beth was sitting on her father’s lap. Jesse was kneeling on the floor in front of him and Adam was perched on the arm of the chair. Their faces were worried and expectant.

“Right now she’s sleeping. Aunt Carrie’s in there with her and Aunt Rebecca’s going to spend the night to help me take care of her. When she wakes up you can all go and see her for a minute, but you have to promise to be quiet. She needs to rest.”

“Is she gonna be alright, Pa? I mean after she rests for a while is she gonna be alright?” Jesse wanted to know.

Adam reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I hope so. She was badly hurt, but the doctor did what he could to help her. Now we have to do everything we can to help too. She may not be just like you remembered for a while. She’ll be weak and I’m going to need all of you to cooperate so she can get strong again. Can I count on you?”

Three heads bobbed up and down solemnly.

“Good! The first thing you can do is go and eat the dinner your aunt made. When you’re done I’ll take you in to see your mother.” Jesse got up and scampered off and Adam helped Beth off his knee. Before going she said, “I knew Mama would be okay, Pa. You wanna know how I knew?”

He smiled at her. “How did you know, sweetie?”

“Cause I prayed. I asked God to make her well and he’s gonna do it. That’s how I knew.”

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Then she was off after her brother. Her father watched her go, moved by her absolute faith in the result of her prayers. What kind of God could refuse that child anything?

His oldest boy didn’t leave right away. There was something on his mind and he wanted to say it. He looked his father straight in the eyes. “I’m glad you killed that man, Pa,” he stated firmly. His expression was serious and resolute.

“I’m not.”

Young Adam frowned. “Why not, Pa? He tried to shoot you. He did shoot Mama. He was bad. Why aren’t you glad you killed him?”

He stood his son in front of him and waited a minute to organize his thoughts. He couldn’t have the boy thinking that killing was a way to solve problems.

“Listen to me. This is very important. You’re the oldest and I think you can understand what I’m going to say. Tom Morrison made a lot of mistakes in his life. When you do things that are wrong there are consequences. I think you know that already. He blamed me for the consequences he suffered. He was wrong. Only he was responsible for his behavior. It was a lesson he never learned, so when he got out of prison he wanted to punish me for what had happened to him. And that was another mistake. He paid for it with his life.

But, Adam, I’m not happy I killed him. It was self-defense and nothing else. If there had been any other way to stop him I would have. Violence is almost never a good way to solve a problem.”

“Aren’t you glad you shot him before he could shoot some more? Maybe he would’ve hit you too.”

“I’m relieved I was able to prevent him from hurting anyone else. I wish I had been fast enough to save your mother. But I’m still not happy that I took a life…even a life that some people might think wasn’t worth much.” He hesitated, his expression serious. “It’s not up to any one person to decide whose life has value, son. Killing a person isn’t something to be proud of. I’m more sorry than I can tell you that it happened. I don’t want you to think that I have anything but regret over what happened here today. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The boy nodded solemnly. “You’re saying you did what you had to do, but you wish it could’ve been different.”

“Exactly. Now I’d like to put this behind us and concentrate on your mother. I meant it when I said we’d all have to work together. You’re the oldest. I’m counting on you the most. Your uncles told me what a hard time you had finding the doctor. I’m proud of you. Bringing him here was very important. And you remembered to take care of the horses, in spite of what was going on. That tells me how grown up you are for a nine year old. So I’m going to depend on you a lot for the next few days while we see what happens, okay?”

His son smiled shyly at the praise. “You can count on me, Pa.”

“Good! Now you go get something to eat with the others.”

“Can’t I sit out in the living room in a chair?”

“No,” Adam answered as he buttoned his shirt.

“But I’m bored to death lying in bed.”

“Paul said you had to stay in here a few days. I’ll carry you out there tomorrow…if you stop this whining.” He tucked the shirt in his pants and buttoned the fly.

“If you loved me, you’d let me get out of bed now. My children need me.”

“I do love you, which is why you’ll stay right where you are even if I have to tie you down…and I saw you stick your tongue out, Meg. You’re not still doing that are you? It sets a bad example for the kids.” He picked up his belt and began to thread it through the belt loops on his pants.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she pouted.

“Which proves that you’re still very weak. If you were stronger you’d have been so fast that I’d have never caught you.” He picked up his brush and ran it through his hair. Then he turned to face her.

“Listen, sweetheart. Your only job is to get well. Stop worrying about the kids. The boys are already on their way to school. I have a few things to do till Rebecca gets here. I’ll send in Beth to keep you company and keep the baby with me.”

“Gee thanks. That sounds just great,” she answered sarcastically. He ignored her tone.

“Have you been drinking enough? Paul said…”

“I know what he said! You’ve only mentioned it about a thousand times. Did it ever occur to any of you that if I drink all this water I have to constantly use the chamber pot? I hate that! It’s so…so humiliating.”

He pulled back the covers and helped her to a sitting position. She was still too weak to stand without assistance.

“I hate this too,” she muttered.

He tried to be understanding and reasonable as he lifted her over to where the hated ceramic container was located.

“I know. I know. If you just follow the doctor’s orders you’ll be walking around here in no time and doing everything for yourself. But if you try to do too much too fast, you’ll be stuck in bed longer. And neither of us wants that, right?”

As he set her down gently she narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by that? Am I becoming a burden on you? Well, I’m sorry…if I could…”

Adam raked his free hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t mean that! Look, I know all of this is my fault. I’m sorry. I wish I could…”

His expression was filled with such guilt and pain that she stopped him mid sentence.

“No, Adam, no! I’m sorry. You have enough on your mind without me complaining all the time. You’ve been so good to me. I know this has been very hard on you. The inactivity is making me crazy. I’m sorry. I won’t say another word. Just leave for a minute and I’ll call you when I need you.”

He nodded and left the room. He should have suspected that she’d be a poor patient. He was the same way himself, resenting illness’s claim on his precious time.

It had been two days since the shooting and Carrie and Rebecca had decided to take turns staying at the house during the day. Meg seemed to be on the road to recovery and he couldn’t ignore ranch business anymore. There were herds to be moved and a large timber order had just come in. No one had said a word, but Adam felt he needed to be back doing his share around the Ponderosa. Rebecca arrived. Adam saw that Meg was settled back in bed and left for the day.

“Well, how’s the patient?” he asked his blonde sister-in-law when he walked in the kitchen door at dinnertime.

“Very well, I think. She may be taking a nap right now. When I went in last, she said she was a little tired,” Rebecca responded. “Your dinner is in the warming oven. I fed the children already, Adam. There is some chicken soup for Meg in this pot, if she wants it.”

She removed her apron and kissed him on the cheek. "I’m going now. Carrie will be here in the morning, but you send someone if you need anything.”

“Thanks Rebecca. You and Carrie have made things so much easier for us.”

“Ach! What is the family for? Meg would do the same for us,” she said as she tied her bonnet under her chin. “I’m doing you another favor and taking the girls with me for the night. The boys are still doing homework.” She cocked her head and looked at him. “You need to get some rest. This has been harder on you than you say,” she scolded gently.

He grinned back at her. “I will. I promise. Thanks again.” He saw her and the girls into her buggy and decided to check on Meg. He opened the door to their bedroom quietly. She was indeed asleep. He cheeks were pink and he was delighted to finally see some color there.

The boys were doing their homework at the dining room table so he brought his dinner in there and ate while they worked. Then he let them outside for a while to run off some of their boundless energy. Moments later his father rode up.

“How’s Meg doing?” Ben asked, tossing his hat on the small table near the door.

“Pretty well, Pa. I was just going to wake her up and give her something to eat. Come on. You can say hello.”

At first things appeared to be much as they were when Adam checked on her previously. He moved closer to the bed. Eyes shut, she tossed her head and moaned.

“Maybe she’s having a nightmare,” his father suggested.

“Maybe,” Adam answered doubtfully. He sat on the edge of the bed and her eyes fluttered open.

“I’m cold. Can you get me another blanket?” was all she said.

Funny…she didn’t look cold. He reached over and felt her forehead with his palm. She was burning up. The flush he had seen in her cheeks wasn’t healthy coloring. It was a fever.

She began to shiver violently. “I’m cold!” she moaned. “Adam…”

“I’ll get you another blanket, sweetheart.” He found one, tucked it around her, and turned to his father.

“She’s got a fever. Pa, can you go into Virginia City and get Paul? I remember he said something about an infection...”

“Of course I’ll go. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Those chills will stop in a little while. On my way out I’ll send the boys to get some ice. You’ll need it if she’s running a fever. And Adam,” he added as he headed for the door, “try not to worry.”

Try not to worry. Good advice, but Adam was worried…very worried. In her weakened state what chance would Meg have to fight an infection? He sat on the bed next to her.

“Do you still feel cold, sweetheart?”

She nodded, shivering violently now. “I c…can’t get warm,” she stuttered.

He threw back the covers and got into bed with her, pulling her as close as he could and wrapping his arms around her. It had been a running joke throughout their marriage that he was always warm and she was always cold. How many nights had he complained when she put her icy cold feet against his calves to warm them? And in the winter she slept snuggled as close to him as possible, even with several quilts on the bed. But now, despite her claims that she was cold, he could feel the heat radiating from her body. And she was shivering so much that the bed shook. For the moment all he could do was hold her and hope that Paul Martin could be found more quickly than the last time he was called to the house.

It took two hours for the doctor to arrive. By that time the chills had ended and Adam was bathing Meg’s upper body, neck, and face with cool water to help reduce the fever. After examining her, the doctor’s prognosis was grim.

“I hoped this wouldn’t happen, but she’s got an infection as a result of that shot. There’s not a lot we can do. You can continue to try and cool her off, but there’s a new theory that fever is the body’s way of trying to kill off whatever’s causing the ailment. I’ll leave some powders. Give her one four times a day. They may help some.” He placed a box on the dresser, closed his bag and picked it up. “I’m sorry Adam. That’s the best I can do. It’s up to Meg now. If she hadn’t lost so much blood to begin with…”

Adam, hands on hips, nodded dumbly. His head dropped between his shoulders. Ben hustled the physician out of the room.

“That’s your honest opinion, Paul?” he asked when they were out of his son’s earshot.

“You know me, Ben. I wish I could be more optimistic. It’s not hopeless, but it’s not good. Her resistance is low.” He grabbed his hat. “But she was in perfect health before all this happened. She’s got that going for her. And a lot depends on what kind of a fighter she is. I’ve seen worse cases recover. And the only reason I could figure out for them was that the patient was just too damned stubborn to die. She’s from Boston. Let’s hope she has a good dose of that Yankee stubbornness Adam is known for.” He put his hand on the door latch. “And a prayer or two wouldn’t hurt either,” he added before leaving.

“What’s wrong with Mama?”

Ben had barely closed the door. He turned to see his oldest grandson standing in front of him, arms crossed, his stance and expression demanding an honest answer.

“Where’s Jesse?” Ben asked, putting his arm around the boy’s shoulder and leading him to the sofa.

“I told him to get more ice from the icehouse. I thought maybe he shouldn’t be here when I asked you in case…” his voice trailed off.

Ben smiled sadly at the youngster and sat down. He indicated that young Adam should take a seat, but the boy shook his head.

“What’s the matter, Grandpa? You can tell me. I’m nine and Pa told me I’m real grown up for nine and he counts on me. So you can tell me.”

Real grown up for nine. Yes, he was. As he stood there, Ben couldn’t help think how much like his father this child was. He had his dark good looks certainly, but it was so much more than that. He had his father’s quiet, contemplative ways. And like his father, he was more mature than his years would suggest. Fortunately, sorrow hadn’t been as much a part of his young life as it had for his father at the same age. This Adam had been raised by two loving parents and had led a more privileged life than his father had known. He hadn’t been moved from pillar to post for the most formative years of his young life. He had been born and raised on this one ranch and surrounded by a large, happy extended family. Still, each day he grew more like Ben’s oldest in personality and behavior. He was already exhibiting protectiveness for his siblings…like sending Jesse away for this important conversation. Still, he was only nine and, despite his bravado, Ben saw fear in his brown eyes. Those eyes were one feature that he had inherited from his mother…much darker than his father’s hazel colored ones. And Ben saw a myriad of emotions flash through them as the youngster waited for an answer.

“Well, Adam, your mother just took a turn for the worse. That’s why we had the doctor here. She has a high fever and that can be dangerous. He left us some medicine, but all we can really do is wait. Your Pa is in there now trying to reduce the fever by washing her with cold water. When your brother gets back with the ice we’ll chop it up real fine so she can suck on it. We don’t know what’s going to happen. I wish I could…” And Ben finished his remarks with a shrug.

“I heard Doc Martin say that it might help if she was stubborn, Grandpa. Well, Mama can be real stubborn sometimes. One time I heard Pa say she was stubborn as a mule! Oh, he didn’t know I heard him…he sorta mumbled it when he was leavin’…but she can be real stubborn.”

Ben smiled at the boy’s remarks. “Well, we sure hope that’ll be some help here, Adam. But she is very sick. You understand that, don’t you?”

The youngster’s shoulder’s slumped and he nodded. “Can I see her?”

“Let’s see if your father thinks it’s a good idea,” Ben responded.

Adam agreed to the visit. “I have to get some more cold water, son. Why don’t you stay here with your mother till I get back?”

The boy readily agreed. “What should I do, Pa?” he asked, and his father thought for a few seconds.

“Well, why not just talk to her? She may not answer you, but I think it’ll make her feel better just hearing the sound of your voice.”

After his father and grandfather had left the room, young Adam picked up his mother’s hand. It was hot. He looked at it. He had never really thought much about his mother’s hands. But now the sight and feel of them brought on a rush of memories. Kneading bread, digging in the garden, stirring dinner on the stove, playing the piano, ruffling his hair, grabbing his chin so he’d really look at her when she was talking to him, knitting and sewing…all these things were done by her hands. Her hands had folded over his to teach him how to hold a pencil. They had turned the pages of countless books when she read to him and his siblings. She had never once raised a hand to him in anger. Her hands were gentle and loving. He squeezed her hand lightly.

“I’m sorry you feel bad, Mama,” he began. “We’re doing everything we can to help you get better. Pa’s getting more cold water right now and Jesse and Grandpa are getting ice for you to suck on. I guess that’ll make you feel better, some.” He stopped briefly because he was beginning to choke up.

“Mama, you just got to get better. I’m a big boy now, but Jesse and Beth and Annie still need you an awful lot. And no one can take your place when it comes to handlin’ Jesse…you know that. He won’t listen to me and with Pa at work all day, well… So you see that you just gotta try and get better.” He bent over and whispered in her ear. “Pa says you’re stubborn. I’m sorry about that, but I overheard him one day. But guess what? That’s a good thing! That’s what the doc said. So you just go ahead and be as stubborn as you can be. The doc says that’ll help you get well.” Then he kissed her on her cheek and wiped away the tears that threatened to spill down his face.

The door opened and Adam came in carrying a bowl of cool water. Ben and Jesse were right behind him with another bowl of ice chips.

“I think you boys should spend the night at Uncle Joe’s or at my house,” their grandfather suggested.

Jesse said nothing, but his brother spoke up immediately.

“No! I want to stay here. I can help Pa,” he protested.

“It’s alright, Pa. They can stay,” Adam intervened. “They can help by making sure the stock in the barn is fed and taken care of for the night. And boys,” he addressed his sons, “put Buck in the barn and take care of him too. Grandpa’ll spend the night here with us.” He turned to his father again. “I don’t know if you’ve eaten or not, but there’s food in the kitchen. Maybe you’d better put on some coffee too. Now all of you leave for a while so I can do what I have to in here.”

He spent the night alternating tasks. First he bathed as much of her body as he could with cool water in an attempt to reduce her fever and bring her some relief. Then he slowly fed her small ice chips so she wouldn’t dehydrate. He tried to get her to drink, but she turned her head and pushed the cup away. He didn’t want her expending any energy fighting him, so he slipped slivers of ice between her lips and the water droplets slipped down her throat as they melted. Bathe her, feed ice, bathe her, feed ice. So it went the entire night. And every second he watched for any sign of a change in her condition. None came. She lay in bed and submitted silently to his ministrations. There was no moaning…no sound at all except the gentle soughing of her breath. Adam wasn’t even aware that a new day had dawned until Carrie opened the door and glided quietly into the room. Her eyes were sad. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t you let me do this for a while? You look exhausted.”

“I’m alright. Just bring me some coffee.”

“Adam, I can relieve you for a few minutes. You should get something to eat.”

“Coffee, Carrie.”

His tone of voice left no room for argument, so she left. But as she was getting the drink she spoke to Ben. He, not Carrie, brought Adam the cup.

“Thanks, Pa. Just leave it on the table there,” Adam told his father.

“No. You’ll drink this and drink it now.” Adam wasn’t the only Cartwright who could speak forcefully.

He looked at his father and sighed. “Alright.” He held out his hand and Ben placed the cup in it. The older man drew up a small chair and sat next to his son.

“Adam, you’ve got to get some rest. Carrie or Rebecca can spell you for a while. You’ll make yourself sick and your children need at least one healthy parent.” Ben’s tone had softened and concern was written all over his face.

“I’m afraid, Pa.” The words were spoken very quietly. Adam was gazing into the coffee cup, as if the answer his problem could be found in its fragrant depths.

“I think that’s natural, given the circumstances.”

“I’ve…we’ve been incredibly lucky. I know so many men who lost their wives in

childbirth. Or their children have gotten sick and died…or died in some freak accident. None of that has touched us.”

“It hasn’t touched your brothers’ families either, except for Carrie’s miscarriages,” Ben pointed out.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right about that.” Adam looked up from the cup and met his father’s eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot…you know in between…” he nodded toward the bed and left the sentence unfinished. “Words are funny things, Pa. I never really knew what the word cherish meant, till I married Meg.” He looked at his wife and stopped talking, as if lost in thought. “I cherish her,” he said softly. “She’s the most important thing in my life.” He paused again. Ben had the impression that Adam had forgotten he was in the room. He seemed to be talking to himself.

“She’s so sweet…so beautiful,” he murmured, placing the cup with its untouched contents on the bedside table and reaching out to push damp curls off her brow. His facial muscles relaxed somewhat.

“I think she feels cooler, Pa,” he said. He felt her face, her shoulders, and her arms. “Yes, she’s definitely not as hot as last night!”

“Well, fevers tend to rise at night, Adam,” Ben cautioned. “But if she’s cooler, then that’s a good sign. Maybe now would be a good time for you to take a break and get some sleep.”

At that moment Meg’s eyelids fluttered. She blinked a few times and then her eyes opened completely. Her head turned toward Adam and Ben.

“What happened? Was I shot again?” she mumbled through dry, chapped lips.

“No, no sweetheart. You haven’t been shot. You’re just sick,” Adam answered her, while filling a glass with water. “Do you think you can drink this for me, if I help you?”

She was so weak that she couldn’t even sit up unassisted. She drank all the water and asked for more. Relieved that she seemed to be improving, Adam allowed Carrie to see to her needs while he and Ben ate. Rebecca was in the kitchen and the house was quiet.

“Yah, it is good that you eat now, Adam,” she told him as she filled his plate a second time. “You should sleep too. You know we would call you if there was any change.”

“She’s right, son,” Ben concurred, reaching for the coffeepot. “You won’t be any use to anyone if you don’t get some rest. Think about your children.”

Adam stopped eating. “Where are they? The kids, I mean.”

“It’s Thursday, Adam. Except for the little ones, they are all in school. We thought it best,” Rebecca told him, her face worried. “You wanted them to stay home?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s alright. They should be in school.” He wiped his mouth and sighed deeply.

“Thanks Rebecca,” he said as he stood up, raking his hand through his hair. He sported a day’s growth of beard and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked at his father. “You’re right, Pa. I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll be in the boys’ room. But I want to be called if there’s any change, or if Paul shows up again.”

Ben nodded in agreement and Adam left the kitchen.

He checked on Meg once more. Carrie was tenderly caring for her sleeping friend. She looked up when Adam opened the door.

“Some people say that if you cut off her hair, it will lower the fever,” she remarked as she placed yet another cool cloth on Meg’s brow.

“Cut off her hair?” he repeated, dumbfounded.

“I’ve heard some people say it helps. It would grow back. Would you consider it, Adam?”

He looked at his wife. She had beautiful hair. It was long, thick, and curly and, when loose, it hung below her waist. He thought it was one of her most attractive features. She hated it. When it became apparent that each of their children to one extent or another would have curly hair, she loudly bemoaned their fate.

“You and I each have curly hair,” he tried to reason with her. “They could hardly escape it.”

“You don’t understand,” she groused. “It’s bad enough for the boys, but the girls! Curly hair is just so unfashionable!”

This made him laugh. “I think your hair is very pretty,” he said.

“Well, thank you,” she replied grudgingly. “But you’ve never understood nor cared about fashion and you don’t know what a trial this will be when Beth and Annie are older.”

“I agree with you about fashion. Maybe curly hair will become fashionable in the future. But if that’s the worst problem the girls have to face growing up, then I’d say they’re pretty darn lucky.”

She sighed dramatically. “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted reluctantly.

Her hair…images flooded Adam’s mind. Sometimes when they made love he’d pull her on top. When they were both spent she’d collapse on his chest, limp as a rag doll. Her hair would fan out over them like a silken brown cape. In her quest for straight hair she had Carrie iron her long locks one day. She had been so delighted with the results that he hid his disappointment from her. To her dismay, the humidity from a heavy rainstorm in the evening caused the straight hair to begin to return to its natural state. And each night she brushed her hair carefully, removing any snarls, and braiding it before bed, unless he asked her to keep it loose. It suddenly occurred to him what an inconvenience it was for her to leave her hair loose at night. It took precious time in the morning to re-comb and untangle it. Just another way I’ve been selfish, Adam thought grimly.

“Don’t touch her hair,” he said decidedly. “That’s just an old wives’ tale, Carrie. If it was true, then men wouldn’t ever get high fevers.” That decision made, he went to the next bedroom where he collapsed on the boys’ bed and fell into an exhausted, troubled sleep.

He slept till after the children were home from school. Carrie made dinner for everyone, including Doc Martin, who stopped by on his way home. He examined his patient and then spoke quietly to Adam.

“Don’t be surprised if her temperature spikes again. She’s weak and I’m not sure how much more she can take. It’s my guess that how she fares tonight will be critical. The fever will either break or…” and he let his voice trail off with a small shrug.

“But she was so much better today,” Adam protested.

“She wasn’t better. Her fever was lower, is all,” Paul corrected, laying a hand on Adam’s shoulder. Adam felt an icy hand grip his heart as the doctor added, “Stay with her tonight, Adam.”

It was as the doctor predicted. Meg’s temperature rose again in the late evening. This time, instead of lying quietly in the bed, she tossed and turned restlessly, mumbling through dry lips. Adam sat beside her every minute, vaguely aware of the rest of the family coming and going in the room to bring more water, more ice chips. His father sat quietly in a chair behind him reading a book and dozing on and off. Adam continued to bathe her face, her arms, her neck and shoulders to cool her off. It broke his heart as she called out piteously for her Aunt Beatrice. He could understand some of what she said, though most of it was unintelligible. He thought he heard her mention her dead father and older brother Jesse, both lost at sea many years ago. At one point she began to giggle…her charming laugh sounded hideous to him under the circumstances. Then just before dawn she grew quiet. Her hand lifted off the bed and reached out as if to touch something just beyond her reach. Very clearly he heard her articulate a single word...Yes. Her arm dropped to her side and she seemed to go perfectly still.

His eyes, gritty with exhaustion, blinked in disbelief. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips. He shook his head in denial. “No.”

The word was spoken quietly, but something in Adam’s tone caught Ben’s attention. He glanced up to see his son climbing onto the bed and gathering Meg into his arms. He began to rock back and forth with her, moaning, “No…no…God, no. Meg… Meg!”

Ben rushed to the other side of the bed and grabbed his daughter-in-law’s wrist. Her skin was cool and damp. He felt for and found a steady pulse.

“Adam!” he shouted. “She’s alive. I can feel her pulse. The fever’s broken. Adam! Do you hear me, son?”

Adam stopped his rocking and looked at his father with tortured eyes. “Pa?”

“I said she’ll be alright. The fever’s broken. She didn’t…she’s alive, Adam. She’ll be alright,” Ben repeated, smiling and nodding his head.

Adam blinked several times. His father’s words slowly penetrated his grief. He gently laid his wife back down and placed his ear on the center of her chest. There it was! A steady thub-dub, thub-dub, thub-dub. He pressed his lips to her forehead and she was cool. Her facial muscles were relaxed and peaceful. He felt like he had witnessed a miracle. The change from her restless moaning to almost complete stillness had happened so suddenly that he had been convinced she was gone. But the crisis was over.

He collapsed back into the chair he had occupied almost continuously for the past two days. He was breathing as hard as if he had run a marathon. He covered his eyes with his hands and bent over. His body was wracked with dry, wrenching sobs…cleansing, healing sobs of relief.

Ben came around to Adam’s side of the bed, squatted down and placed a strong arm around his shoulders.

“Let it out, Adam. Let it out, son,” was all he said. But it was enough. The bond between father and son was strong…so strong that there were times when words were unnecessary. Ben’s constant presence at Adam’s side and his comforting touch spoke volumes. More words would have been superfluous.

While his son was composing himself, Ben stood up and went to the window. He pulled back the curtains. The sky was pale blue and the cirrus clouds that flew along on the wind glowed a delicate pink.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” Ben commented.

Adam, once more in full control of his emotions, gazed with relief at his wife’s supine form. Suddenly she turned onto her side, her hand gently grasping the pillowcase’s embroidered hem. Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing was easy. It was her preferred position for sleeping and she looked so totally normal that he smiled, even while feeling a lump forming in his throat.

“Yeah, Pa. You’re right. It’s going to be a beautiful day,” he concurred.

“Feeling better?”

Adam ran a hand through his mussed hair. In the other he gripped a fresh cup of coffee.

“Yeah. Good as new. Amazing what a few hours of sleep will do for you. What are you still doing here, Pa?”

Ben took a sip from his own cup and gave a little push with his foot, sending the porch swing into a gentle rocking motion. “Well, there didn’t seem any point in going home. While you were sleeping Joe and Hoss stopped by. They can handle things for a while. The ranch is kind of quiet right now.”

Adam dropped into Meg’s rocker. He took another sip of coffee, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“I think you’re going to need more than just ‘a few hours of sleep’, boy,” Ben remarked.

There was no response. The two men rocked in companionable silence for a few minutes, relaxing in the crisp fall air.

“How’d you do it, Pa?”

“Do what?”

“How’d you bury three wives and not go insane? How’d you go on after they died? I almost lost Meg. The things that ran through my mind…” He shook his head, paused and muttered, “How could anyone survive something like that three times?”

There was a brief silence.

“If anything happened to your wife, Adam, you’d have done exactly what I did. You’d mourn, you’d grieve, you’d curse your fate. You’d silently scream, 'Why?' more times than you could count. Then you’d look down and see the four children that suddenly depend on you for everything. They would have suffered a loss as well. And putting their needs before your own would get you through the roughest times.” Ben stopped and looked out across the yard and across the years.

“When your mother died, son, I honestly don’t know what would have become of me if it hadn’t have been for you. I might have gone back to sea. I might have become a hard drinking bum. I don’t know. But, bless her heart, your mother made me promise to follow the dream I’d had for some time…the dream to move west.” Ben stopped for a second and smiled to himself. “And she was so delighted with you…so incredibly happy that she’d produced a son. She knew right from the beginning that you’d be a boy. Don’t ask me how she knew. Woman’s intuition, maybe.” He shrugged. “But she knew and never doubted it for a second. And suddenly I was responsible for an infant and also for keeping the promise I’d made to her before she died. I was almost numb with grief, but driven to keep my word to her and to protect that little boy that she had given her life to give me.”

Ben looked back at Adam. “And that’s how it was each time, son. I went on for the sake of my boys. Eventually the pain dulls. The routines of life continue. You just…go on.” He shrugged and looked down at his hands. “Some people think I’ve had a lot of tragedy in my life. I guess that’s true. But I never view it that way. I think about how lucky I am to have known three such special, wonderful women, and to have three equally wonderful sons as a result.”

There were a few seconds of silence and then Ben rose, as if suddenly embarrassed by his ruminations. He cleared his throat. “Well, I can see things here are under control. The boys are in school and Carrie’s in the kitchen. You won’t have to worry about a thing—you know how she likes to take charge.” Both men chuckled as Adam got to his feet. Carrie had a well-earned reputation for being bossy.

Adam stuck out his hand. “Thanks Pa…for everything.”

Ben took the hand and pulled his eldest into a quick embrace. He gave him a few sharp pats on the back, then stepped away. “I’m glad everything turned out well.”

Buck was already saddled and waiting at the hitching post. After mounting Ben called out, “Adam, you take as much time as you need. Like I said, things are slow right now.” And with a salute he wheeled the horse around and rode off.

Two Months Later

Meg carefully brushed out her hair. She was so glad Adam hadn’t let them cut it. She knew he loved her long curls, and although they could be a bother at times, she hoped that tonight they’d serve a purpose. They had in the past. She was fully recovered from both the gunshot wound and the infection that had accompanied it. Life had returned to normal. The older children were in school, she had regained control of her domestic duties from Rebecca and Carrie, and Adam was back to working full time.

Perhaps he was working too hard, she thought. That might explain it. She quickly dismissed that thought. He had always worked hard and that had never interfered with his desire for her. Her husband was still a very virile man. Hadn’t he tricked her into a romantic tryst in the hayloft the very morning she had been shot? She was at a loss to explain his behavior. Oh, she could understand that he might not want to approach her while she was still weak, but she had stated on more than one occasion recently that she felt as strong and healthy as she ever had. Still, each night he gave her a sweet, if rather perfunctory kiss, rolled over, and went to sleep. Maybe she needed to use a less subtle form of communication. She was hoping he’d be a little more receptive than he had been last night.

It was November and the nights were very chilly. In hopes of starting something, she wiggled back into him as she often did when she was cold. It amazed her how much heat his body gave off. He would usually throw his arm around her waist and pull her back closer so they were positioned together like two spoons in a cutlery drawer. Sometimes they’d just fall asleep that way. But sometimes he’d begin to nuzzle her neck or her shoulder. His hand, resting on her stomach might begin to wander. And those nights usually ended very pleasantly for them both.

But last night as soon as their bodies made contact he had bolted out of bed.

“Are you cold? I’ll get another quilt,” he'd offered, and fumbled around in the chest at the foot of the bed. He'd carefully laid the blanket over her, but when he'd gotten back into bed he'd turned his back to her.

She was puzzled and a little hurt, but when she thought back on it, she decided she hadn’t made her wishes clear enough. There could be no mistake tonight. Often when Adam wanted to make love, he’d ask her to leave her hair loose. It was something that had begun on their wedding night and had become a private signal they had used frequently throughout their marriage.

As she was getting rid of the last few tangles, he walked into the bedroom. He was already in his nightshirt, a triangle of chest hair showing at the opening. She smiled to herself. He was so handsome.

“Are the kids alright?’ she asked.

“Mmm hmm. They’re all asleep. Jesse sure is a restless sleeper,” he remarked, kicking off his slippers and climbing into bed. “He pulled all the covers off and poor Adam was lying there shivering. Maybe it’s time they had their own beds.”

“I don’t know,” she answered as she placed her brush on the dressing table and lowered the lamp. “They’re still little and it’s warmer in the winter if they sleep together.”

“I doubt Adam would agree with you. Anyway, I put a separate blanket over him so he won’t be cold,” he said, watching her as she approached the bed. She didn’t get under the covers. Instead she climbed up and knelt facing him. He leaned forward, gave her a kiss, said goodnight, and began to lie down.

“Adam!”

He turned to face her. “What?”

She lowered her voice, tilted her head, and smiled her prettiest smile. “I left my hair loose tonight.” She twirled a long curl around her index finger.

He didn’t answer her immediately. He sat up in bed slowly and on his face she caught a brief glimpse of some expression that she couldn’t identify. For the first time that she could remember he spoke to her without meeting her eyes.

He coughed. “I’ve…uh…been meaning to speak to you about that,” he said quietly.

“About what?”

“About your hair. You don’t have to leave it loose anymore. While you were sick I realized what a nuisance it must be to comb it out and untangle it in the morning. So you can braid it up.”

“I don’t mind,” she answered, unsure of what was going on. Adam’s sexual appetite was such that she had only infrequently initiated lovemaking. No matter what tactic she used, he always caught on immediately and had never refused her. In fact he seemed delighted on those occasions when she was more assertive. She knew her approach tonight was anything but subtle. What did she have to do? Issue him a written invitation? What was the matter?

He looked as if he was going to lie down again. This was ridiculous! Two short months ago he would have had her nightgown off already and she would have been pinned beneath him while he kissed her breathless.

She bit her lower lip and sat back on her heels. “What’s the matter, Adam?”

He looked in her direction without really looking at her. “Nothing’s the matter, sweetheart. Let’s get some sleep.”

“No!” The anger and petulance in her voice got his attention. This time he really did look at her. “You know I don’t want to go to sleep now. You’ve known for a few days exactly what I do want. Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

She pushed his shoulder as hard as she could. “Something most certainly is wrong. You used to like making love to me. Even though I’ve told you over and over that I’m fine you seem to be trying to avoid me.”

He watched in dismay as her eyes grew sad.

Her voice trembled a little. “This is so difficult for me, Adam. You know I’ve mostly depended on you to take the lead in this part of our lives. I’m not very good at…” Her voice trailed off. She sighed, swallowed, and then continued. “Have I done something that’s made you angry? Have I…” Her hand came up and covered her mouth as a thought occurred to her…a terrifying thought. “Is it my scar? Am I unattractive to you because of my scar?” She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.

He looked startled. He couldn’t let her think that! He shook his head. “No…no, Meg, it’s not that. It’s nothing like that at all. How could you think I’d find you less attractive? With or without that scar you’re still the most beautiful woman I know.”

“Then what is it?” she demanded. “It’s so humiliating to have to ask you like this.” She hung her head. “Before…well it was different. You know what I mean.” She looked up at him again. “Don’t you want me anymore? You don’t even hold me in bed. I miss that. I miss the closeness. If you don’t want to…well, at least will you hold me?” she asked miserably.

“Of course I will. It’s torture sleeping next to you and not touching you.”

“Then why…?”

He didn’t answer her immediately. It would be difficult trying to explain it to her.

She waited patiently.

“I feel like I don’t deserve any part of you. Look what happened because of me. You were shot and came this close to dying.” He held his thumb and forefinger a hair’s width apart. “I had a lot of time to think while you were so sick and then during your recovery. I’ve treated you pretty shabbily. I’ve taken you for granted. I’m pretty clever at getting my own way when we disagree. You’ve had to put up with an awful lot and I rarely show you any real gratitude.” He stopped as if searching for some more effective words with which to berate himself, but she cut him off.

“Oh, I see,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m too good for you is that it? That’s why you won’t come near me?”

He didn’t answer. He wanted to try and explain how he felt but for once his educated tongue deserted him.

She hopped off the bed and began to pace. She turned suddenly, and pointed her finger at him like a prosecutor in a trial confronting the accused. “Adam, do you feel responsible because I got shot?” she demanded.

“I don’t feel responsible, Meg. I am responsible,” he answered simply.

"That’s…that’s…” she looked around the room as if the words she was searching for would magically appear on her dressing table, or the bureau, or the nightstand. She pulled herself up to her full five feet four inches and turned to face him, hands on hips. She was as angry as he’s ever seen her. “Adam, that’s rubbish…and …and…stupid! It’s totally illogical. I mean, it would make sense if I was the one who didn’t want…”

She sighed, let her hands drop to her sides and walked over to his side of the bed, the expression on her face softening, her tone of voice quieter. “I guess it would be natural for you to feel responsible for what happened that day,” she began, wrapping her arm around the tall bedpost and leaning against it. “It’s utterly ridiculous, but natural. Tom Morrison was to blame, not you. You did everything you could to prevent it. And I know how frightened you must have been when I was sick. I keep thinking about how I would have felt if he had shot you.” She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him.

“You have to let this go, Adam. It was a terrible thing, but we’re all fine and it’s over.” She reached out and took one of his hands in her own. “And as for that other nonsense. My goodness, I always thought you were so smart. How could you possibly think that you’ve treated me shabbily or that I don’t realize that you’re grateful for the things that I do? You treat me like a princess! You buy me every modern convenience that comes along, you keep insisting that I get more help around the house when I’m not busy enough to warrant it, and you’ve always tried to protect me from anything ugly or unpleasant that goes on in town. We have four beautiful, healthy children. I live surrounded by friends and family.” She reached out and touched his cheek.

“When everything is going well we tend to take each other for granted. I’m guilty of that too. I think everyone is to some extent. Then when someone dies, we always think, ‘Oh, I should have done this or I should have said that.’ So when you thought I might die, you began to think about those things too. But you’re wrong, Adam. I’m very happy.” She smiled ruefully. “Maybe I’m the one who should feel ashamed for not letting you know that more often. You’re being too hard on yourself.” Her hand dropped down and she waited for him to speak.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it. I am right,” she said with assurance. Then she added with a grin, “You know how outspoken I am. If I was unhappy I’d let you know it!”

He looked at her, sitting there in a pretty nightgown, smelling sweetly of her favorite floral cologne, her hair cascading around her shoulders and down her back. For days he had wanted her so badly he ached. But guilt and his belief that he had been a less than appreciative husband had prevented him from acting on his desires. He recognized the truth in much of what she said. Perhaps he'd just needed to hear her say it.

“Well, you are outspoken,” he agreed, reaching out to place his arm around her waist and draw her closer. She smiled in relief and delight as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “You sure you’re feeling well enough to…?” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes! I’m fine.” She pulled back and placed a hand on either side of his face. “Truly. I’m all better. And I’ve missed you so much.” She leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. It was the only encouragement he needed. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss. She pressed closer to him and he very carefully turned her over him so she was lying down.

“I’ve missed you too, Precious.”

“How much?” she murmured, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

“There aren’t enough words.”

“Then show me.”

Their union had been sweet, tender, and extended. They lay in bed, twisted together comfortably, as only people married for several years can be. They were sated, relaxed, and incredibly happy.

“You all right?” Adam asked quietly.

Meg lifted herself onto her elbow, her head resting on her palm. “Yes, I’m alright. I told you I’m just fine. And next time you don’t have to be so…careful. I’m not going to break or fall apart!”

He untangled their legs and assumed a similar position facing her. He grinned the devilish grin that she always found so devastating.

“I see. So next time you want me to be a caveman and grab you by your hair and drag you off to bed, is that it?”

She laughed, delighted that he was teasing her again. “Well…maybe you needn’t behave exactly like that, but you know what I mean.”

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know what you mean,” he agreed, laying down and pulling her back into his arms.

She remained there quietly for a few seconds. “Adam?”

“Hmm?” He rubbed his chin on the top of her head.

“I want to tell you something…something that happened while I was sick. And I want you to promise to believe me.”

He began to stroke her hair. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“Well, because it’s going to sound strange. But it really did happen. I’ve thought a lot about it and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to tell you, but now I do.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Tell me.”

She took a deep breath, then began. “I don’t remember an awful lot about those few days. I know I had a high fever. Sometimes I knew what was going on and sometimes I didn’t. And I had strange dreams. I dreamed about my Aunt Beatrice and about my mother. I can’t remember exactly what those dreams were about but I have a vague recollection of them. They were…disturbing…and scary, I think.”

Adam hugged her. “I’m sorry sweetheart. High fevers can do that. I remember one time Joe…”

“But that’s not really what I wanted to tell you about,” she said cutting him off in mid-sentence.

“Then what is it?”

“I was having those dreams when, very suddenly, everything became peaceful. I felt completely calm. And it seemed that I was in a beautiful place. And this place, Adam…well, it was full of light. Very, very bright light, but not a hot light like the sun. It was the brightest light I’ve ever seen. And even though there was so much light I didn’t have to squint or anything. And the light was all around me and I felt wonderful. I felt peaceful and wonderful. I can’t describe it properly, but it was a glorious feeling.”

She had been combing her fingers through his chest hair as she spoke, but she stopped and flattened her hand out over his heart as she continued. Her voice lowered slightly. “And then I saw them, Adam. I saw them plainly…not like imaging someone you know in a dream. This was real!”

“Who did you see, sweetheart?”

“My father and my brother Jesse. I know you probably find that hard to believe, but I did see them. And they let me know that they were fine. And they looked fine and happy and peaceful, just like I felt. And then they were gone. But I didn’t feel badly because I knew that they were all right and in this beautiful place. And then I saw someone else.”

“And who was that, Meg?”

She didn’t answer right away. She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him. “I saw your mother, Adam. I saw Elizabeth Cartwright.”

He said nothing.

“I did see her Adam. I did.”

“That’s impossible.”

She shoved herself away from him. “I knew I should have followed my first instinct and not told you. I know it sounds fantastic, but it’s true. It did happen.”

He sensed her tension and he heard the agitation in her voice. The night had been special…beautiful…and he didn’t want to spoil it with an argument. “I believe that you thought you saw my mother. I can tell from your voice that you…,” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.

“You don’t have to humor me,” she said, sitting up. “I don’t think I saw your mother. I did see your mother. She was no farther away from me than from here to the end of the bed. I understand that it’s hard for you to understand. It’s hard for me too. What happened was so special and …and fantastic that I wasn’t going to share it with anybody. But it was your mother and I love you and I wanted you to know.”

“Okay…okay,” he said soothingly. “Why don’t you tell me the rest. Help me to understand what happened.”

In the dim light she could see that he was serious. She relaxed somewhat and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Well, suddenly she was just there. And I knew right away that it was her.”

“How? Did she introduce herself?” he asked, stacking his hands together under his head.

She shot him a look, but he wasn’t being sarcastic. “No. I can’t explain it. I just knew. And she’s much prettier than that picture you have of her, Adam. Her eyes are full of merriment and fun, her face so animated. The picture doesn’t capture that. And she seemed quite young…younger than I am, but for some reason that didn’t seem strange at all. I liked her.” She stopped to gauge his reaction, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue. “Anyway, just like my father and brother, I knew she was happy in that beautiful place. And somehow I also knew that she knew all about us and was happy for us…like she had been watching you all these years.” She paused again, wondering what he would say to that, but her husband remained silent. “Well, that place was so lovely and I felt so wonderful there that I wanted to stay. But she wouldn’t let me.”

“What do you mean, she wouldn’t let you?” he asked.

“Just what I said…she wouldn’t let me. She said, ‘I left him. You mustn’t. You must go back.’ It wasn’t really speaking. But somehow she communicated those thoughts to me. And I remember thinking that I really wanted to stay, but if she told me to go back, then that’s what I had to do. So I said, ‘Yes’. And right after that she began to fade away. I put my hand out to touch her, but she was fading so quickly. The last thing I remember her saying was, ‘angel kiss’. I didn’t understand that, but she said it. It was the last thing I heard before she disappeared. And then I was waking up and you were there.” She turned and looked over her shoulder at him.

He held his hand out to her. “Come lay down,” he said. “I have to tell you something.”

She returned to the haven of his arms.

“During the very end of your fever you were restless and agitated. I heard you call out for your aunt and you called to your father and brother. And then, at the very end, maybe when the fever was breaking, you became still. You said ‘yes’ very clearly, and you raised your hand up off the bed as though you were reaching for something.”

“You see!” she said excitedly. “It happened! It happened just like I said.”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I didn’t say that. What I’m sure about is that you had some incredibly vivid dreams. But you seem to think something else happened. I’m not saying it didn’t. I’m just saying that it’s hard for me to comprehend.” He hugged her closer. “I’m not humoring you, Meg. Logically, I could explain away what you saw. But you’re not a stupid person. I’m sure you’ve thought about all of this. And in spite of everything, you’ve drawn your own conclusions as to what happened. I respect that, even though I may not have come to the same conclusions. I hope you can accept that.”

She turned her head, resting her chin on his chest. “I guess I can. I know how it must sound…like some sort of fantasy. I’ve thought about it a lot since it happened. You don’t have to believe me. But I’ve never doubted for one second what happened.” She yawned and snuggled closer to him. “I just wish I knew what angel kiss meant. Do you know?”

He pulled the covers up over them. “I have no idea. But I’m tired. You’ve worn me out Mrs. Cartwright. We can talk about it some other time. Let’s get some sleep.”

One week later Ben and his sons were completing the last of the hay baling. Young Adam, the twins, and even young Joe had been pressed into service. None of them objected too loudly to the week of school they had to miss to help out. They were currently at the eldest Cartwright’s, hauling the heavy bales into the hayloft.

“Now you boys be careful up there!” Ben shouted, watching as the youngsters pulled the hay into the storage space above the barn.

“We will be Grandpa,” young Joe yelled back. He then proceeded to come perilously close to falling out of the hayloft as he reached for the next bale. His cousin Peter saved him by grabbing him by the suspenders before he could tumble to the ground.

Ben shook his head, turned toward the house, and muttered, “Someone’s gonna end up breaking his neck before we’re done.”

“What was that, Pa?” Adam asked, falling in step with his father.

“Nothing. I’m just glad we’re almost finished with this,” Ben said. He stopped short and faced his son. “Adam, remember last night when you asked me if the words ‘angel kiss’ meant anything to me?”

“What about it? You said they didn’t.”

“They didn’t then. But I remembered something.” He chuckled. “I hadn’t thought about it in years.”

“What is it?”

“Well, your mother had a birthmark on her shoulder, right about here,” he pointed to a spot on his own shoulder. “And she told me her father had said that she was such a beautiful baby, that after the good Lord created her an angel kissed her there and left that mark. She called it her angel kiss.” He laughed again. “Sounds like something that old rascal would have told her.”

Adam was certain he had never heard that story before. He knew so little about his mother that he catalogued and treasured each little piece of information about her that he had. He was sure that if his father or grandfather had ever told him that little tale, he would have remembered it.

“Did you ever mention that to Meg?”

Ben shook his head. “I’m sure I never did. As I said, I just recalled it after all these years. Why? Is it important?” Ben looked at Adam with concern.

A shiver ran up Adam’s spine. It was ridiculous, of course. There was some logical explanation for this. His father had probably forgotten that he told Meg. That must be it.

“Don’t worry about it, Pa. It’s nothing,” Adam said, slapping his father on the back. “Let’s go see what Hop Sing has for lunch. I’m hungry.”

As his father entered the house, Adam remained behind for a moment. Then, for reasons that were never entirely clear to him, and going against every ounce of logic and rational thought he possessed, he raised his eyes heavenward and said, very softly, “Thank you.”

A PROBLEM—A SOLUTION

Adam was getting ready to mount up and ride to his father’s when he spotted Beth in the yard. She was laying face down across the hammock that hung from two large trees. She had a stick in her hand and was making little pictures in the dirt. She gave an occasional desultory kick with her foot, which caused the hammock to swing gently. Adam walked over to her, leading Sport.

“Hi there, Sunshine. I’m going to Grandpa’s. I can take you with me and drop you off at Uncle Hoss’s if you want.”

Normally the twin treats of riding on Sport and playing with her cousin Bitsie would have had the child jumping up and down excitedly. But she didn’t even look up as she answered, “No thank you, Pa.”

Adam squatted down to be at eye level with her. He placed his hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. “What’s the matter? You have a fight with Bitsie?”

She looked genuinely surprised. “No, we didn’t have a fight. I just wanna stay home.”

He reached over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “All right. Whatever you want. See you later.”

As he rode to his father’s, he considered the cause of Beth’s dejected mood.

Adam was always the first up in the mornings. Three days ago he had come down to the kitchen as usual and whistled for the dog, to let him out. When Nugget didn’t respond, Adam attributed it to the fact that the old dog was becoming increasingly deaf. He whistled again and called his name. Nugget still didn’t move, and when Adam walked over to the dog’s bed by the stove, he realized what had happened. He knelt down and placed a gentle hand on the dog’s still head. He was curled up, eyes closed, and looked like he was sleeping. Adam swallowed as tears stung his eyes.

Nugget had been almost as much a family member as the children. He had been Adam’s first Christmas gift to Meg. He'd displayed no signs of jealousy as the children came along. He was protective of them, but also a wonderful playmate. He related to each person in the family differently. For Adam, Nugget was good hunting companion, and he always felt better about leaving Meg alone because the dog was there. For Meg, Nugget was company during the day while her husband was working. And he joined in the fun with the children as if he was one himself. How many sticks had he retrieved over the years?

He bounded along happily with young Adam when he went fishing with his cousins. When Jesse had been punished or was in a bad mood, Nugget was always there to listen and commiserate. But Beth had a special relationship with him. Her brothers could play together and entertain each other, but frequently she was on her own. Nugget became her special friend. The boys would have nothing to do with tea parties and Meg was busy with household chores. So Beth would dress him up and seat him on the opposite side of an old bench that she used as a tea table. Adam had come home many times and watched as the dog, resplendent in a bonnet and shawl, waited patiently for the cookies he knew were forthcoming. These treats apparently compensated him for the indignity of wearing ruffles and lace and of being addressed as ‘Mrs. Snodgrass’.

Though they couldn’t be sure of his age, Adam estimated Nugget was about thirteen years old. Over the years his muzzle had turned white and an opaque film covered his eyes. He moved more slowly as rheumatism settled into his bones, but he still had occasional bouts of puppy-like playfulness. In the last few months he had spent more time snoring in front of the fire or curled up by the stove. Still, he could always be counted on to rest his head on Adam’s knee in the evening for some pleasant scratching behind his ears. Like every other beloved pet, he gave much and required little.

As Adam picked him up and carried his body out to the barn, he felt an incredible sadness over this loss, but he was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that Nugget had had a long and happy life with his family.

Back in the kitchen, he broke the bad news to Meg and held her as she wept. She pulled herself together for the sake of the children, who would be down soon demanding their breakfasts.

They were devastated. Adam realized that his children had lived their short lives blessedly free from dealing with death. In fact, all the little Cartwright cousins were fortunate in that respect. A simple funeral was planned and Adam and the boys dug a grave under an old tree while Meg and Beth found some old cloth that could be used as a shroud. Afterward, young Adam went quietly off on his own and Jesse went to share the tragic, yet somehow exciting and important, news with his cousin Ben. Beth retired to the hammock, clutching her most beloved doll. Meg had housework and Annie to attend to, but every so often she would think of the dog and her eyes would fill with tears again.

Life goes on, Adam thought as he rode along, but he was somewhat concerned about Beth. She remained listless. Her appetite was failing. Meg had gotten her to finish her dinner last night by threatening her with a dose of cod liver oil. The only real emotion she had shown was to slap her brother Jesse when he had the temerity to ask if they could get another dog. Adam normally would have spanked her for that because the children were expressly forbidden to hit each other. But she burst into tears immediately after, and Meg went after her to comfort her and deal with things. The situation only got worse.

Around 2 a.m. Meg felt a little pressure on her arm, then a little shake.

“Mama? Can I sleep in here with you? I had a bad dream.”

She blinked a few times and then here eyes focused on Beth, standing beside the bed in her nightgown and nightcap.

“You had a bad dream?” she mumbled back.

The child nodded.

Meg threw back the covers and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was eight months pregnant with their fifth child, and simple movements were becoming more difficult as her body grew.

“What was it about?” she asked, yawning.

“I don’t remember. But it was scary. Can I sleep here?”

“Okay. Climb up.”

Beth scrambled into the bed between her parents and Meg lay down on her side. She’d have to get to the bottom of this tomorrow, she thought, but right now she just wanted to get some sleep.

This same scene was repeated for the next two nights.

“What’s the matter with her?” Adam asked his wife as they sipped coffee early one morning before their brood awoke.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you ask her?”

“Of course I’ve asked her…more than once. I think it has something to do with the dog, but then maybe it’s more than that. She’s worried about something. And I haven’t been able to get her to tell me.” She sighed deeply. “But maybe I’ve haven’t tried hard enough. I feel so drained in this heat.”

Adam nodded in understanding. It was mid July, and they had suffered through a sizzling heat wave for the past week.

There was very little that could ruffle Meg’s temper. She mediated the frequent squabbles among their children with a wisdom Solomon would have envied. When the family suffered through the traditional scourges of measles, chicken pox, and mumps, she seemed to go for days without a decent night’s sleep as she nursed each child through the illness. Still she maintained a sense of humor and a reasonably cheerful attitude. She waited patiently for weeks on end for items that she had ordered from the east…items that she could have purchased the same day back in Boston. And, Adam thought ruefully to himself, she puts up with me!

Oh, she had her moments. When something angered her, she could be a veritable tigress. If something offended one of her core beliefs, she would react swiftly and emotionally. She could be bitingly sarcastic. Her intelligence made her a worthy sparring partner in a verbal confrontation. But for the most part, she handled the day to day problems of a large family with equanimity.

There was one thing that his wife found difficult to handle with grace and that was extreme heat. Perhaps she wasn’t used to it because there was always a sea breeze at her home back in Boston, or perhaps it was just something in her own peculiar physical makeup. Adam wasn’t sure. But she definitely suffered in the warm summer months. She became less animated as the heat increased. She seemed to wilt a little bit with each rise of the mercury. Add to that the discomforts of the last months of pregnancy and Adam sometimes had a pretty unhappy wife at his side.

Tempting Meg with promises of cool breezes, he had taken the family down to the lake on the weekend. As the children scrambled out of the buckboard, Adam went round to help his wife down.

“I’d put my hands around your waist, but I can’t seem to find it.”

“Oh that’s hysterical, Adam. I don’t want you to even touch me. I’m hot.” This last short sentence had been her mantra on the whole trip to their picnic area.

“My, we’re a little testy today, aren’t we?” he responded, carefully assisting her to the ground.

She gave him a look that could curdle milk. “I don’t know about we, but I’m not in the best of moods because of all this heat. You know how I hate it,” she replied grouchily.

“What can I do to make you happier?”

“Can you make the temperature drop twenty degrees?”

“No.”

“Can you make my ankles suddenly stop resembling piano legs?”

He shook his head.

“Well, can you magically cause me to drop this extra thirty pounds that I’m carrying around?”

“Nope.”

“Then you’re useless.”

He pulled off his hat and scratched his head.

“Look, maybe you should take off your shoes and stockings and go wading. I’m sure that would make you feel better,” he tried.

She wasn’t open to suggestions. “Oh sure! I go wading, fall in the lake, and begin to float. Suddenly a whaleboat appears and someone shouts, ‘Thar she blows!’ They pull out their harpoons and before you know it I’m oil in somebody’s lamp!”

He watched her straight-faced while she painted this absurd picture. “I don’t think whale oil lamps are much in use anymore,” was all he said.

She stared at him for a moment. Then she burst out laughing. “I’m sorry! I know I’m being miserable. It’s just that I’m…”

“Hot,” he finished for her. “I know you are, sweetie. If I could make it cooler I would.”

She leaned against him, resting her forehead on his chest. “I think it is a little cooler down here. Thank you for bringing us. Just help me sit down under those trees.”

“Your wish is my command,” he replied, and led her to the place she had chosen.

Adam wasn’t surprised when Meg admitted she might have done more to get to the root of Beth’s problem.

“I’m busy today, but if I get home early I’ll try and have a talk with her,” he offered, strapping on his gun belt and reaching for his hat.

As she had done almost every morning of their marriage, she walked him to the front door.

“I know it’s hard, but try and stay cool,” he said, bending to kiss her upturned lips.

“I’ll try,” she answered with a dramatic sigh that told him she didn’t believe such a feat was possible. She watched him mount up and ride off and then went in to begin her domestic chores.

There was no opportunity for Adam to speak to his daughter that evening. He had forgotten about a school board meeting that he had to attend and when he arrived home she was already asleep. A storm in the afternoon had cooled things off and even Meg was in bed, asleep, by the time he returned. Around two a.m. the little specter again made her appearance. Adam heard her and called her softly to his side of the bed.

“What’s wrong, Beth?”

“I had a bad dream, Pa. Can I sleep in here with you?”

He sighed. Meg was sleeping soundly and peacefully for the first night in a while. He got out of bed and took his daughter’s hand.

“It’s cool tonight, isn’t it?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“I feel like having some hot chocolate. What about you?”

“Now, Pa?”

“Mmm hmm. Right now. Why don’t you and I go down to the kitchen and make some. Maybe it’ll help you feel sleepy.”

The offer was too unusual and too good to resist.

“Okay, Pa.”

Down in the kitchen Adam lit lamps and poked at the banked fire. He prepared the drink while Beth watched in wonder.

“Do you like to cook, Pa?” she asked as he poured the hot, sweet liquid into two cups.

“Not really, sweetie. But I know how. I like to know I can take care of myself.”

“You take care of us too,” she said, accepting the cup of hot chocolate.

“Well, I try,” he answered, seating himself opposite her at the big kitchen table.

She silently sipped her drink, her little face troubled. It broke his heart to see the child he had nicknamed Sunshine so obviously upset. They sat quietly for a minute.

“Is it sweet enough?” he asked her.

“It’s very good,” she complimented him. Then she was silent again.

This would never do! Adam was determined to see if he could unlock the secret of her unhappiness. He began with the most obvious. “Beth, do you miss Nugget?”

She nodded but didn’t look at him.

“Is that why you’ve been so quiet and sad? Is it because you miss him, sweetheart?”

She stirred her drink with her spoon. She nodded again. And then she shook her head. Finally she raised her eyes to her father’s.

“I miss him, but…,” She didn’t finish her sentence.

So Meg was probably right, Adam thought. There’s something else that’s on her mind. But he knew to proceed slowly with her, the most sensitive of his children.

“We all miss him Beth. I guess we all wish he could have lived forever. But he was an old dog. He lived much longer than most dogs. Probably one reason was because we all loved him so much and he knew that. He was happy here, sweetie. He had a good life.”

She looked up again. “You really think that, Pa? You think that he lived longer because we all loved him?”

“I think that because we loved him we took good care of him and that helped him to live longer.”

“Oh,” she sighed, apparently unhappy with his response. They both sipped their drinks in silence. “I wish that loving someone could make them live forever, but it can’t, can it Pa?”

“No, Beth. No one…nothing lives forever. Some things live longer than others. Flowers die quickly, but there are some trees that live hundreds of years. We have some of those right here on the ranch. And some animals live only a short time and others live much longer. But anything that’s alive eventually dies.”

“People too, right, Pa?” This was spoken so low that Adam barely heard it.

“People too, Beth.”

At this point she burst into tears. He was with her in an instant, lifting her on his lap while she cried as if her heart would break.

“I’m scared, Pa,” she sobbed into his nightshirt.

“Scared of what Beth? Please tell me, sweetheart. Maybe I can help.”

“Nobody can help. Nobody can help,” she wept despairingly.

He hugged her and spoke soothingly, but Adam was frustrated. He was fairly certain that his daughter’s fears had to do with death, but since she wasn’t more forthcoming he began to question her.

“Beth, are you afraid of dying?” he asked softly. “Is that what this is all about?”

She continued to cry, dampening the front of his nightshirt with her tears. She had her arms around his middle in a death grip. Finally she managed to choke out, “I’m not afraid of dying.”

“Then what, baby? What is it that you’re afraid of?”

She sobbed a bit more quietly. Then she pulled back and looked at him, her big eyes swimming in tears, her curly hair like a silky halo around her head. When she spoke the words rushed out like the water from a burst dam.

“I’m afraid of you dying, Pa. I’m so scared of that. If you died who would take care of us? What if Mama and you died? Mama almost died when that bad man shot her. What would happen to us? Where would we go? Sara Jane’s pa died and now they got to move back east because they got no money and her ma don’t want to, cause of her uncle, but they got to. And what would happen to us? When I think about it I get so scared. And you can’t fix it Pa. And even if I love you so much, I can’t fix it either.” And she leaned against him again and wept.

Adam said nothing. He held Beth and stroked her back till she had cried herself out. He grabbed a napkin from the table and sopped up her tears.

“Well,” he said quietly, “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Up to this point, Beth had lived in a happy world where the changes that occurred were only pleasant in nature. Life had a rhythm and routine that she found comforting. Now she had learned first hand that death was a change that was not only unpleasant, but also permanent. In her little world, Adam realized, her pa had thus far been able to do or fix anything. Then she had come upon one thing he couldn’t fix…a very big thing. She had heard it from his own lips…everything that’s alive eventually dies. And even her pa couldn’t change that. Most terrifying of all was the realization that her parents would also someday die. No wonder she wasn’t sleeping.

“Talking won’t help. Nobody can do anything,” she sighed hopelessly.

“Elizabeth Jane! I’m surprised at you. A Cartwright doesn’t give up that easily,” was his response. He decided to appeal to her inordinate family pride.

She looked up in surprise. “What do you mean, Pa?” she asked. “Everything dies. You said so.”

“Yes, I did, but listen, sweetheart. Everything dies in its time. We wouldn’t expect a flower to live for years and years, but a tree can live a very long time. I know that it scares you to think of something happening to your mother or me, but Mama and I try to be careful and take good care of ourselves so we can live with you a long time. Sometimes accidents happen or people get sick, and that’s sad. I’m not saying that something like that couldn’t happen. But Mama and I try to make sure that nothing will prevent us from seeing all of you grow up.

And what if something did happen to one of us? You said you’re scared about that, too. Well, even if something did happen, one of us would be left to care for you. And even if something happened to both of us, then you have uncles and aunts and Grandpa to take care of you. You’d never have to leave here if you didn’t want to. It just wouldn’t happen, Beth.”

“Is that true?”

“I always tell you the truth, sweetheart. You know that.”

He felt her tense little body relax a bit.

“And if something happened to Uncle Joe and Aunt Carrie, then Mary, Joe, Ben and baby Daniel would come and live with us?”

“Absolutely. Cartwrights take care of each other.”

She nodded as if she understood and leaned against his chest again.

“Beth, who is Sara Jane?”

“My friend from school.”

“Sweetie, you don’t go to school yet.”

“Yes, I do!” she replied indignantly. “I go to Sunday school.”

Adam smiled to himself. “Oh, of course. I forgot. Well, tell me about her.”

She sighed deeply. “Well, a while ago at Sunday school she told me her Pa died and now they don’t have enough money to keep their ranch. So her and her ma and her sister got to move back east and live with her uncle. Her ma don’t like the uncle so much but they got to go.”

“What’s Sara Jane’s last name? Do you know?”

“Course I know, Pa! It’s Venable. Sara Jane Venable.”

Adam knew the name. Lucas Venable had had a small ranch not far from the Ponderosa. It was a pretty little spread with plenty of good grazing and enough water for a small herd. Lucas had been trying to improve his stock. In fact he had negotiated with the Cartwrights for the use of one of their prize stud bulls. In a freak accident, he had been thrown by his horse. His neck had been broken and he'd died instantly.

Adam tried to remember everything he could about the family. The wife was from back east someplace…Philadelphia, he thought. There were two little girls. Venable seemed like decent sort…young, but a hard worker. And enthusiastic. Adam remembered thinking that the young man had a good chance of success. He couldn’t say that about everyone who moved west and attempted ranching.

Venable had died about four months ago. It was unlikely his wife could run the ranch alone. Apparently she was in trouble. Adam decided to check out the situation, but at the moment he was most concerned about his daughter.

“Beth, is anything else troubling you?”

“No, Pa. I just was so scared that you and Mama would die. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.” And Adam knew this was so because she was completely relaxed as she leaned against him.

“Just remember that it’s very unlikely that something would happen to both Mama and me. But even if that did happen… and it probably never would… there are so many people who love you that you would always have a home here with someone to take care of you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Pa.”

“Besides, I plan to be around a long time. I need to be here to walk you down the aisle when you get married.”

She began to giggle. “Oh, Pa! I’m not gonna get married. Boys are dumb!”

He laughed along with her and gave her a hug. “Well, I’m sure you think that now, but someday you may change your mind.”

“No I won’t! Anyway, I’d only want to marry you, but you’re already married. So I’ll just live here with you and Mama forever.” She yawned a huge yawn and snuggled closer.

Adam didn’t argue with her. It would be years before he would need to make that bittersweet journey with her. Just thinking about it gave him a little sinking feeling in his stomach. But he wouldn’t dwell on it. Besides, she had fallen asleep and the only trip they’d be making together right now was the one upstairs to tuck her into her bed.

Two weeks later Adam and Meg paid a visit to Emma Venable. Between them, they had devised a plan which they hoped would solve a problem for them and for the young widow as well. During their visit, they offered Emma a job as housekeeper in their home. At Christmas time, Meg had promised her husband that she would get some permanent help around the house, but it had been difficult to locate a suitable candidate.

Emma’s face lit up when she heard their proposal. She had been looking for work, but the shopkeepers weren’t hiring and she wasn’t qualified to teach school even if another teacher had been needed. She was faced with the discouraging prospect of returning east and living off the charity of her husband’s stern and judgmental brother.

“I don’t mind selling the ranch. I need to in order to pay off the mortgage. But I hate to leave this house. Lucas put so much into it. He wanted me to have a nice house because he thought I’d be missing so much from home. My girls were born here.” She looked around at the small but tastefully furnished home. She sighed and put on a brave smile.

“I’m so grateful for the opportunity to stay in the area that I suppose it’s a small price to pay. I’m sure I’ll find something suitable.”

“There’s no reason for you to lose your house, Mrs. Venable,” Adam said.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean? The house will go with the ranch. I’ll have to find someplace else, but as I said, it shouldn’t be very diffic…”

“I think you should sell off only a part of the property. Keep the house and a few acres for yourself and sell the rest. Your husband was a good rancher and this land is prime. I can think of at least half a dozen men who’d want it but not need the house.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

“Sure. If you want we can help you with the process. It’s not very difficult. And we can help make sure you get the best price for the ranch.”

Emma’s eyes filled with grateful tears. She looked from Adam to Meg and back again.

“You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

“Nonsense,” Meg interjected. “I’m the one who should be grateful. You’re like an answer to a prayer.”

So the matter was settled to everyone’s satisfaction. On the ride home, Adam startled Meg by expressing his doubts that Emma would be with them very long.

“Why not?” she asked in surprise.

“Well, she’s a young, good looking woman with a good reputation. My guess is that she’ll be remarrying soon and that will be the end of your housekeeper.”

“Surely you’re not serious!” she exclaimed.

“Surely I am,” he teased her. “Mark my words. Her husband’s been dead four months. In eight months there’ll be a line of suitors at her door.”

“Adam! That’s a horrible thing to say! She obviously loved her husband very much. She wouldn’t possibly think about marrying again…certainly not so soon!”

Adam had a sudden and crystal clear premonition where this conversation was going to go. In an attempt to avoid what he was sure would be a marital spat he said, “I guess you’re right. I hadn’t really thought of it that way.” He mentally crossed his fingers that his capitulation would cause Meg to drop the subject.

“Well,” she huffed, “I’m glad you can see that. I mean, if, God forbid, anything was to happen to you, I’d never remarry.” She paused and he hoped that would be the end of it. It just wasn’t his lucky day.

“Adam, if anything happened to me, you wouldn’t get married again, would you?” Meg asked him tremulously.

Great! he thought, I just walked into a trap that I set myself. You’d think I’d be a little smarter after all these years!

He put on his most sincere expression and turned to answer her, but she wasn’t looking at him. She had her hand over her belly, her eyes were wide, and her lips formed a perfect ‘O’.

“Meg, what is it?”

“I think you’d better get me home.”

“The baby?”

She nodded.

Adam’s relief over avoiding a ridiculous argument filled with “what if’s” was offset by his concern for the ordeal that Meg must now endure. He slapped the horse’s rump with the reins, and for the rest of the ride his only concern was to get his wife home as quickly as possible. Their discussion would have to wait for another day.

DAISY CARTWRIGHT

August

Adam sat on his sofa with his head in his hands. The children had been sent to Grandpa’s, where Hop Sing would fuss over and take good care of them. Rebecca and Carrie were in the bedroom with Meg. Adam sat in lonely agony, cringing at each moan or cry from his wife. Meg’s labors had all been hard and long. Prior to the birth of Jesse, she suggested to her husband that he go stay with one of his brothers until she had given birth. She had suggested the same thing before Beth and Annie had been born. He refused each time.

“This is ridiculous!” she protested. “There’s nothing you can do except sit and worry till it’s all over. Being someplace else might take your mind off things.”

“Being someplace else would only mean I’d be sitting and worrying someplace else. I’m not going anywhere.” His tone and the look he gave her would tolerate no argument.

Maybe this time things will go faster, Adam thought to himself. But it had already been more than twenty hours since they had arrived home from Emma Venable’s little house. Meg had spent some time getting things ready for the children to take to Ben’s. Her oldest had protested that he didn’t want to be sent away “like a kid”.

“Adam, you’re almost eleven. I don’t consider you a child,” his mother said gently. She would have ruffled his hair, but he was beginning to resent any overt signs of affection. This saddened Meg terribly, but she knew it was the way boys his age began to act. What she was telling him was true. He was fast leaving childhood behind. “In fact, it’s because you’re so mature that I need you to help mind your brother and sisters. Hop Sing isn’t as young as he used to be. I’m depending on you to keep the others in line and make sure they mind their manners.”

“Well…alright, Ma.” She shook her head. This was yet another sign of his rapid maturing. He left behind the “Mama” of his childhood and now called her simply “Ma”. “But you’ll send for us the very first thing, won’t you?” His eyes were anxious and slightly troubled. Meg knew what was going on in his mind. He was old enough now to know that childbirth could be dangerous. He didn’t know how to tell her, but he was worried about her.

She smiled her brightest smile at him. “Of course I will!” she assured him, then added, “You don’t know what a relief it is to me to know that you’ll be keeping an eye on the other three.”

He smiled back at her and gave her a quick, fervent hug.

“Adam, I’ll be fine,” she said softly.

“I know, Ma,” he answered, but his eyes relayed a different message. He coughed. “Well, I better go hitch up the buckboard.” And before she could say more, he was running off toward the barn.

It was some hours before she took to her bed. She knew her husband went through a mental agony roughly equivalent to the physical pain of labor, so she tried to postpone lying down as long as possible. Adam stayed with her as long as he could, but she finally shooed him away because it was getting too difficult to remain quiet as her pains came closer together and increased in intensity.

“Please go to Hoss’s or Joe’s or your father’s,” she begged him after he had given her a final kiss.

“No.”

“Them go wait out by the barn…you know farther away.”

He shook his head.

“Well have it your own way then,” she sighed and then grimaced as another contraction began.

“Out, Adam,” Carrie ordered him, pointing toward the bedroom door. He took a seat on the sofa, where he had spent the greater part of the last twelve hours. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and his hair mussed because he had continuously plowed his fingers through it in frustration. He was unshaven and his clothes were wrinkled.

“Well, you look really attractive,” Carrie remarked sarcastically, as she came out of the bedroom.

“How is she?” was all he replied.

“I know you won’t believe me, but she’s fine and it won’t be much longer. Why do you men insist on hanging around at a time like this? Rebecca said Hoss did the same thing and I know Joe did. There should be a law against it.”

He didn’t have a response.

Carrie put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Look, Adam. It’s all right. There’s nothing to worry about. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“No,” he said more sharply than he had intended. Then he softened his response to, “No, thank you. I don’t want anything.”

Carrie smiled with understanding. “Just as you like. I’m going back in now. I promise this will all be over soon.”

About an hour later Adam heard the familiar and thrilling sound of his child’s indignant first cry. A moment later Rebecca opened the door, stuck her head out, and told him excitedly, “A girl, Adam! Yah, and Meg is just fine. You can come in soon. We will call you.”

Every muscle in his body seemed to relax at precisely the same second. He got up wearily and stepped out the front door, inhaling deeply of the fresh Nevada air. And he made the same silent vow that he had made continuously for the length of his wife’s labor. This was their last child. He simply could not put Meg through this again. She was in her late thirties. They had married later than most couples so the babies had come later. This pregnancy had been a surprise because he had tried with the few means available to him to limit the size of their family. He didn’t need to have his wife produce a child each year to confirm his masculinity. Adam was a rancher and he knew more than a little about reproduction. He would never say this to Meg, but when it came right down to it there were times the female of any species was more fertile than other times. That knowledge was well and good when making plans for the Ponderosa herds, but it seemed to desert him completely on cold nights when she wanted to snuggle up. He sighed silently. He’d just have to try harder until the day that Mother Nature would take the worry of pregnancy out of their hands.

Half an hour later he was being introduced to his new daughter. Meg looked as she always did at these times…exhausted but happy.

“Adam, I think we finally have a baby with straight hair!” she said delightedly. “And she’s going to be a saucy one. Look at how she’s sticking out her tongue!”

“You’ve definitely decided to call her Margaret?” Carrie answered as she and Rebecca completed the task of cleaning up after the birth.

“Mmm hmm,” Adam answered taking the warm little bundle from his wife. “But we’ll call her Daisy to avoid any confusion.”

“It wasn’t my first choice for her name, but Adam absolutely refused to allow me to name her Allegra,” Meg informed her sisters-in-law with a tired smile.

“Allegra? Where did you ever come up with a name like that?” Carrie demanded, hands on hips.

“It’s from a sweet poem that I like. One of the children is referred to as ‘laughing Allegra’ and I thought it was pretty…you know, such a charming image. Musical.”

“Well, it may be pretty, but Margaret is such a good sensible name. And the child would be teased with a name like Allegra. You wouldn’t want that,” Rebecca added in her quiet way.

“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t want her to be teased because her mother gave her a rather fanciful name. So Daisy is who she will be.”

“Daisy! I like that!” Carrie exclaimed, as she bent over to look at her new niece. “You are a very precious posy,” she whispered to the infant, and then she kissed her gently on the forehead. “Now your cousin Daniel will have a playmate,” she added, referring to her own little son, born four months earlier. “Daisy and Daniel, Daniel and Daisy,” she chanted. “I just love having babies in the house.”

An hour later they were alone together with their new little daughter. Carrie had gone home and Rebecca was preparing lunch for all of them. These were precious moments and Adam clearly remembered each time he had spent these quiet few minutes with his wife and new baby. Meg insisted on undressing the child and doing a thorough examination.

“Well, she’s got all her fingers and toes,” she said in a satisfied tone of voice.

“Did you think she wouldn’t?”

“It never hurts to check. She has a tiny birthmark on her shoulder, but it might disappear in time. Other than that, she’s just perfect!” Receiving no response to this, Meg looked up when she had finished swaddling the infant. Adam had a strange expression on his face.

“What?” she asked. He didn’t answer and she grew alarmed. “Adam, what is it?’ she repeated, panic creeping into her voice.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he hurried to reassure her. “It’s just that Pa told me that my mother had a birthmark on her shoulder.”

“Is that all? My goodness, you frightened me for a minute. I think that’s a lovely coincidence…you know…it sort of ties the generations together. I can’t wait to tell Papa.” She turned her attention back to the baby.

It was as if her husband hadn’t heard her. He continued to speak quietly, almost to himself. “My grandfather told her the mark was made when an angel kissed her there. She called it her angel kiss.”

Meg lifted her gaze from their infant daughter and stared at him, her eyes wide. “How long have you known about that?” she asked him softly.

He shrugged. “When you told me about that…uhh…incident a few years ago, I asked Pa if he had ever heard that particular phrase. He didn’t remember right away, but a day or so later he told me the story about my mother. Said he hadn’t thought about it in years.”

“And you never told me?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

He shrugged again. “I’m not sure.”

“You knew all this time and never said anything?” Her tone was more puzzled than accusatory.

Adam’s expression was somewhat abashed, but he said nothing.

Meg lifted Daisy to her lips and kissed the child’s forehead tenderly. She cuddled her close. “Do you believe me now, Adam?” she asked quietly.

“I never said I didn’t believe you”

“No, you never did,” she agreed. “But I think you thought I was hallucinating or something.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“And now? Don’t you agree it was some kind of miracle that happened?”

“Right now I can say for certain that you’re holding a miracle in your arms. As for the other…well, I’m still thinking about it.”

“I think that sometimes you think too much.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been told that.” He tilted his head. “Are you angry that I didn’t say something before this?”

She smiled. “No. I’ve always been sure of what happened that night. I think you needed to hear about angel kiss more than I did.” She looked down at the child in her arms. “In any case, you’re right about one thing. I am holding a miracle. What a joy it’ll be to watch our little Daisy blossom and grow!”

As the months passed, life went on as usual. Changes were coming about in Virginia City. The mines were closing and people beginning to move on. The population stabilized, then dropped slightly. Still, the ranchers were less affected than many others because the railroad made it easier and easier to ship their beef to distant markets. And the Ponderosa was still doing well in its timber enterprises.

The seasons came and went…a cool and busy fall with all of the little Cartwrights except Annie, Lottie and the babies in school, then another very merry Christmas celebration, made merrier still by the presence of the two babies, Daniel and Daisy.

“Here, you give that little miss to me,” Hoss said to Adam, holding out his hands and taking Daisy from her father’s arms. The brothers and their father were seated in the living room of Ben’s house on Christmas morning, waiting for the children to finish breakfast, so they could begin their own. Joe and Ben were watching Daniel scoot around the room on all fours.

“Looks like this one’ll be a handful, Joseph,” his father remarked as the baby headed for the base of the Christmas tree yet again.

“I know, Pa. I must be getting old. I can’t figure out where he gets all that energy. It’s a miracle that Carrie can keep up with him,” Joe answered, scooping up his son in time to prevent him from pulling strings of popcorn from the lower branches. He was rewarded by a comical, though fulminating look from his youngest child.

“What’s this I hear about a trip, Hoss?” Ben asked, watching his middle son bounce Daisy up and down gently, causing her to giggle in high-pitched baby tones.

“Well, Pa. I been meanin’ to talk to ya about that,” Hoss answered as Daisy reached for the loops of his string tie. “Rebecca’s been feeling a little sad with all these babies around. We don’t really want no more, but I know that sometimes she wishes…well, anyhow, I thought I’d like to take her back to Germany for a while. She ain’t seen her folks back there in more ‘n fifteen years. I know it’s asking a lot. We’d be gone moren’ two months and that’s a long time to be away. ‘Course I could send her alone with the kids, but I don’t like the idea of her travelin’ all that way by herself. So if it’s alright with the three of you, I thought I’d take her this summer. We’d leave around the end of June and be back in September. It’s a bad time to leave the ranch but it’s a good time to travel.”

There was a brief silence.

“More than two months?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, well, with the travel time and all. I guess we could try to cut it down a little but I don’t see how we could…”

“I think you should do it,” Adam said quietly. “It would be wonderful for all of you. And I have to say I admire your courage in hauling four kids on a trip like that. I don’t mind the extra work, if Joe doesn’t.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe added hastily. “I was just surprised. What did Rebecca say when you told her?”

Hoss coughed and handed Daisy back to her father.

“Well, I ain’t exactly told her yet. I wanted to see what you said first.”

His father and brothers stared at him, then at each other.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? It’s Christmas!” Ben laughed.

“It shore it is, Pa,” Hoss chuckled, and got up in search of his wife.

Mid June

The pace of ranch life became hectic as the months turned warmer and the days grew longer. Sometimes the older boys were pulled from school to help out at this busy time of year.

Throughout it all, Daniel and Daisy grew and developed. Perhaps it was because Adam and Meg knew that this would truly be their last baby, they took extra joy in marking her accomplishments…sleeping though the night, her first tooth, creeping around the floor, her first tentative steps.

She was a sunny baby, reminiscent of Beth, but with a little more spunk, though not quite as demanding as Annie. Whereas Adam and Annie strongly favored their father, and Jesse and Beth their mother, Daisy was a lovely blending of the best features of both her parents. And, though her hair wasn’t exactly straight, her mother was pleased to note it appeared to be merely wavy.

In early June, Rebecca was making final preparations for the long awaited voyage to Germany when Lottie came in from her play complaining she was hot.

“Yah, schatzie, it is very warm today,” her mother agreed, looking up from yet another list she was making for the trip. She didn’t like what she saw. It was easy to recognize the glazed eyes of a sick child. “Come here, baby.”

A quick examination of her younger daughter revealed that the child had come down with the measles. She was the last of their children to contract the illness and Rebecca did some quick mental calculations. With a little luck, Lottie would be fully recovered before they had to leave. She sighed in relief and then put the little girl to bed. When her boys were back for lunch, she sent the twins over to Adam’s house with the news. Lottie and Annie were constant playmates…it was more than likely that Annie would be sick as well.

All of Adam’s children except Annie and the baby had had the measles. More than any other illness, this one panicked his normally calm and unflappable wife. Meg had two siblings who had died of the disease. It frightened her.

“I don’t understand why you get so upset. Your sister and brother died before you were born. You never even knew them,” Adam pointed out to her the last time they had been visited by this common childhood illness. “And Adam and Jesse weren’t even very ill when they got it. Beth will be fine. She’s a healthy little girl and you take good care of her.”

She wasn’t very reassured by his words. “I know what you’re trying to say. I can’t explain it myself. Chicken pox and the mumps don’t upset me like this. All I know is, the measles scare me.”

A few days after Rebecca discovered the cause of Lottie’s fever, Annie came down with measles as well. And to make matters worse, Daisy was warm and unusually irritable, too. Within a day, the familiar spots began to appear on both girls. Meg moved them into the same room and temporarily deserted her husband to sleep with them.

Their concern for the baby was quickly supplanted by a deeper anxiety over Annie. Daisy appeared to have a relatively mild case, but Annie suffered with a very high fever. She moaned and tossed in a way that was frighteningly familiar to Adam. Meg had tossed and moaned in exactly the same way when she had been felled by an infection after she had been shot. He watched helplessly as Meg attended to the two children, day and night, wearing herself out. For the first time, Adam reconsidered his notion that measles was a simple and inevitable fact of childhood. Annie was a very sick little girl. It broke his heart to see his feisty little daughter one moment lying motionless and pale, except for those obscene spots, then twisting restlessly the next.

One night he was awakened by the frightened cries of his wife. Annie had suffered a seizure. For what seemed like an eternity her little body stiffened, then shook and trembled uncontrollably and her eyes seemed to roll back in her head. It was terrifying to behold. Almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over. She went limp and her eyes closed normally.

This last episode caused the exhausted Meg to break down. She collapsed into the rocking chair, one arm crossed over her breast, her other hand covering her mouth. Eyes streaming with tears, she rocked back and forth and wept.

“Adam I’m so scared. My poor little girl! My poor Annie. I don’t know what to do to help her. Oh dear God, please don’t let anything happen to that child. I’ll go mad. Oh God…oh God…oh God…” she continued to cry as she rocked.

Adam knelt beside her. “Shhh. Shhh. Meg, her fever’s very high. That’s why she had the seizure. Paul said that might happen, remember? You’re doing everything you can. We just have to wait it out. It can’t be much longer now.”

“I’m scared Adam. Hold me.”

He stood and pulled her into his arms. As he held his distraught wife, he looked over her shoulder to his daughter, now quiet on the bed, and said a silent prayer for her recovery.

“Sweetheart, you know Annie. She always has to be a little difficult. Trust her to have the worst possible case of measles. She’ll be fine,” he tried to reassure Meg. But he was worried. How much more could the little five-year old take? He couldn’t bear to think of what might happen. The illness of a loved one was one of the few things that could make Adam feel truly helpless. He had agonized over Joe’s condition on the occasion he had accidentally shot his younger brother. Fear had gripped his heart when his wife had become gravely ill with an infection a few years earlier. And now his vibrant, sassy little daughter lay virtually motionless on her bed, fever racking her small body. More prayers filled his heart.

Meg pushed away from him, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m alright now. You go get some sleep. I’ll see to the girls.”

“You need to get some sleep. I’ll stay up with them,” he argued.

“No! I’m fine…really. Maybe you could just get me some tea before you got to bed. I could use some.”

They looked at each other, fighting a visual battle over who would stay with the children. It wasn’t a fair fight. Nothing in Adam’s arsenal could prevail over Meg’s maternal instincts. He blinked first.

“I’ll get you some tea,” he conceded, bending over to kiss her cheek.

“Make sure you put enough honey in it,” she reminded him as he turned to leave.

“How much is enough? A tablespoon?”

“Two.”

He tuned back to look at her and they smiled weakly at each other in spite of the circumstances. When he returned, she was in the rocking chair cuddling the sleeping Annie in her lap. She rocked gently and hummed. Adam placed the teacup on the bedside table.

“Call me if there’s any change or if you need anything.”

“Of course," she answered absently, her attention focused on the child she held.

Adam was awakened several hours later by Meg shaking his shoulder gently.

“Adam. Adam. Wake up.”

He bolted up in bed, his eyes seeking her in the dark. “What? Is everything alright? What is it?” he mumbled sleepily, raking his hand through his hair, then rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Come see. I think her fever’s broken. I think she’s going to be okay.”

Annie lay on the bed, her face pale except for the spots. But her complexion was somewhat back to normal, now lacking the bright red tint on her cheeks that had been a result of the fever. Her curls rested damply across her brow. Her father bent and pressed his lips to her forehead. He rose smiling.

“You’re right. The fever’s broken. Now we just have to keep her warm and let her rest. In a few days she’ll be demanding to get up and run around.” He took Meg’s hand. “Why don’t you come to bed? You’re all worn out. I’m sure she’ll sleep through the rest of the night.”

She shook her head. “No, I’d rather stay here. You’re probably right. Annie will sleep through the night, but the baby’s still feverish. I need to be here for her,” she replied, stroking Daisy’s cheek gently.

Adam knew it was futile to argue with her. “Do you want any more tea?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll lie down and rest next to Annie. I’ll let you know if I need anything.

“Call if….”

“I will,” she answered cutting him off and dropping gratefully onto the bed next to their daughter.

In the early hour just before dawn Adam was once more awakened. This time, instead of a gentle hand on his shoulder, he rose to a piercing scream that caused him to vault out of bed and run to the sick room. Meg was holding Daisy in her arms, alternately rocking and shaking the infant.

“Daisy, wake up! Daisy! Daisy!” she cried, looking up as he bolted through the door. “I can’t wake her up. I don’t know what’s wrong. Adam, she won’t wake up!” The words tumbled helter-skelter from Meg’s lips as she tried frantically to get a response from the baby.

“Give her to me.” Adam took the child from her mother’s arms. He placed her on the bed and listened at her chest. He felt for a pulse at her throat and tiny wrist. Gently he lifted her lids to check her pupils. He felt her little feet and hands while Meg hovered over them the entire time.

Finally he raised his daughter’s precious fingers to his lips and kissed them tenderly. He returned her hand to her side with the care of someone handling a delicate porcelain figurine. His head dropped forward briefly and his eyes closed. Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to face his wife and shook his head.

For a fraction of a second his actions didn’t register in her sleep deprived mind. Then a sound unlike one Adam had ever heard before issued from his wife…a low primitive moan, which seemed to emanate from within the deepest part of her. It was a low keening wail…the universal lamentation of a mother for her lost child.

“Noooo….noooo…noooo.” Her cries built in crescendo, as she backed away from the bed, as if distance could negate the tragic event. Adam went after her, grabbing her arms. “NO!” she screamed and beat his chest with her fists. “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!”

She shook her head back and forth as she pushed at his chest and tried to escape. Her eyes were wild with pain, anger and denial. As suddenly as her outburst began, it ceased. Her eyes rolled back and she sank into dark blessed oblivion, slumping against him in a faint.

He picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. No sooner had he laid her down than their three oldest children rushed into the room.

“Pa, what happened?”

“I heard Mama scream. What’s the matter?”

“Is Mama sick?”

Their eyes were large and frightened as they approached the bed and asked their questions.

“Your mother fainted. She’ll be alright in a little while.”

Before he could say more, Annie, sleepy-eyed and pale, appeared in the doorway.

“I feel better. I’m hungry. Can I have breakfast?”

Four pairs of expectant eyes looked to their father. It was next to impossible for him to think. His infant daughter was dead, his wife unconscious, his children demanding answers. With a gargantuan effort he gathered his thoughts and tried to devise a plan. Should he send the children off to his father’s or one of his brother's? Send for the doctor? The undertaker? If he left the room to make breakfast for his brood, Meg would wake up alone. He couldn’t risk that. He bit his lower lip and tried to think logically.

“Adam, I want you and Beth to make breakfast for all of you.”

“We’re not allowed to use the stove, Pa. You know how Ma is afraid of fire.”

This was true. Meg was exceptionally careful in the kitchen. She had heard too many tales of women or children setting themselves on fire because of a stray spark or a dress that passed too close to an open flame.

“I know, but I’m giving you permission just this once. Beth and Jesse set the table, cut the bread, and pour the milk. Adam, you cook. There are plenty of eggs in the pantry. Get going. I’ll be there in a minute.” Three pairs of bare feet scuttled out the door. Only Annie remained.

“What about me, Pa?’

“What about you? Go get some breakfast with the others.”

“You didn’t say what I should do.”

“Oh. Well…let’s see.” Adam ran his fingers through his hair while he tried to think of a task that would satisfy her.

“I know. After you’ve eaten, you and Beth wash the dishes. She can do the dishes, but you do all the forks and spoons. Think you can do that?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded her head up and down.

“Good. Then get along and eat something.”

She turned and trotted off. Adam sighed deeply, his head dropping to his chest. He finally allowed himself the luxury of shedding tears for his baby.

The service was simple and would be held the following day. It was summer and there could be no long period between death and burial. Rebecca prepared the baby for her final rest. Meg just could not or would not do it, and she refused to let Carrie anywhere near. Poor Carrie, thinking of her own miscarriages, had made the mistake of telling Meg how sorry she was and that she knew how she felt.

Meg turned on her like a rattler attacking its prey. “Never, NEVER say you know how I feel! You can’t possibly compare the two. I held Daisy in my arms. I nursed her, taught her to walk, bathed her, played with her. Yours never even had names!” she hissed, her eyes on fire and her hands clenched in tight fists at her side.

Carrie’s mouth dropped open. Joe, standing nearby, had overheard these remarks, as had Adam. They rushed over and Joe intervened.

“Meg, Carrie only meant…”

“I know what she meant. And I meant what I said. Don’t make excuses.”

“Meg! Apologize now,” Adam said, his voice quiet, but full of anger.

She turned on him. “Get her out of my house!” she demanded, pointing at bewildered and wounded Carrie. She stormed off.

A strange reversal of characters took place. Joe, normally hot-headed and quick to act, stepped in front of his brother, who was about to go after his wife and drag her back for an apology.

“Adam! Let her go. She probably doesn’t even know what she’s saying.”

“Joe, she had no right to say those things.” Adam turned to Carrie. “I’m sorry, Carrie. I don’t what’s gotten into her. I know she’s angry and grieving, but she had no right to say those…”

His sister-in-law held up a hand to stop him. “Joe’s right. She’s out of her mind with grief and she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” She took a deep breath. “And she’s probably right. You can’t compare the two situations. I think it’s better if I go.” She hugged Adam tightly, whispering, “I’m so sorry about all this. Please don’t worry about what just happened. We’ll make things right when she’s had some time.” She stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “She needs time, Adam. She’s still in shock. And remember, if there’s anything I can do…watch the children, cook, mend, whatever, you just let me know.”

Adam closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and nodded. “Thanks. But whatever just happened here I’ll expect you both to be at the burial tomorrow morning. You wouldn’t stay away, would you? Meg may not realize it, but she needs you there. I need you there.”

Joe gave his brother a quick hug. “We’ll be there. You take care of yourself and what Carrie said goes for me too. Don’t worry about the ranch right now. Take all the time you need.”

Immediately upon hearing the sad news, Hoss and Rebecca offered to postpone their trip. Adam wouldn’t hear of it and even Meg told them they should go. They had planned for months and she would be fine, she assured them.

“I dunno, Adam. I still think we could postpone this trip. We could go next year. Heck the kids’ll be bigger then…probably appreciate it more,” Hoss argued with his brother one evening.

“Thanks, but you go and have a good time. We’ll be fine.”

“Well if you ask me, Meg sure don’t look fine, and I ain’t the only one who noticed it.”

“She’s just lost a baby Hoss”

“Yeah, well so have you. I seen you lookin’ out for her, but who’s lookin’ out for you?”

“I can look out for myself, thanks.” Then realizing this didn’t sound very grateful he placed his hand on Hoss’ shoulder and added, “I appreciate the offer. We both do. But things will straighten out after a while. It’s just going to take some time. Work’ll keep me busy and Meg will come around after a while, I’m sure. You and Rebecca just go and have a good time.”

They gratefully decided to proceed as planned, although they had doubts as to whether or not Meg would be fine.

Adam couldn’t put his finger on it. He was aware that people grieve in different ways, but something was wrong here. He hadn’t seen his wife shed a single tear…not when she awakened from her faint, not when Daisy was laid out in her coffin, not at the grave.

Adam shed his tears quietly and in private. He broke down once when he was discussing funeral arrangements with his father. For some reason it occurred to him that adults take great pleasure in miniaturizing everything possible for children—their toys were miniature versions of adult items—play stoves, baby dolls, rocking horses, wooden guns, boats, and on and on. Many of their clothes were small versions of the adult equivalent…tiny cowboy boots, wee gloves, lacy little stockings and garters, ridiculously small chaps. Adults oooh’d and aaaah’d over these things. But the thought of the little coffin that would cradle Daisy seemed somehow indecent to Adam. He lost what control he had and wept while Ben stood by helplessly. Eventually he regained his composure. He had to be there for Meg, for the children. Each one took their sister’s death a little differently.

His elder boy was hit hard, but much like his father, he grieved privately. Outwardly he tried to be strong, to do what he could to keep his siblings out from underfoot. He exhausted himself by doing extra chores. Intuitively he knew that right now he could not go to the two people who heretofore had given him their wisdom and strength when he was troubled. He spent more time with Ben, feeling a modicum of comfort with his grandfather, who knew when to talk, when to ask questions, and when to be silent.

Jesse was endlessly curious. He went through a period when he had a particular and gruesome fascination with the fate of his baby sister’s physical remains. Difficult as it was, Adam answered the boy patiently, using the opportunity to point out his own belief that mankind was more than just flesh and blood. He was surprised at his son’s interest in a person’s spiritual makeup. Some of his thoughts were amazingly deep, in his father’s opinion. These discussions brought back memories of the questions he himself asked when Inger and Marie had died. Then suddenly, in the midst of such a philosophical discussion, Jesse would look at him with tears in his eyes and ask, “But why did she have to die, Pa? She was just a baby. She didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” And Adam would remember that he was only a nine-year old trying to deal with a tragedy, and not a budding Aristotle or St. Paul.

Beth mourned more openly. She retrieved some of her baby sister’s clothes and dressed her dolls in them, cuddling them close. She had always been an affectionate child, but she sought out more kisses and hugs than ever before. And Adam caught her more than once in the hammock, weeping quietly as she rocked back and forth. She would dampen his shirt with her tears and cry helplessly, “I miss her, Pa. I miss her so much.” All he could do was commiserate and hold her until the storm passed.

He wasn’t sure how much Annie actually understood. A few times she asked when Daisy was coming back. “I know she’s in heaven, but when’s she coming back?” When he tried to explain, she got a little panicky and asked, “Pa, is Germany near heaven? Will Uncle Hoss and Aunt Rebecca, and Lottie come back?” He did his best to help her comprehend the difference.

He wished with all his heart he had some help from his wife in this, but on the subject of their baby’s death Meg was frighteningly silent. The changes that had come over her since that early morning were dramatic. Of course he expected her to grieve. But when he tried to talk to her about Daisy she shut him up with, “I don’t want to talk about this now.” She went about her chores as usual, but almost silently. When his children began to return to normal, to laugh and joke, to argue and play, she remained quiet. Dinner would have been almost unbearable except for Adam’s efforts to create a familiar atmosphere for the youngsters. Had it been up to his wife, the meal would have been eaten in dark silence.

He noticed that her eating habits had changed. She had lost weight. Concerned, he confronted her about it.

“I’m eating,” she responded. “I have a cup of tea right there on the table,” she pointed out.

“Drinking tea isn’t the same as eating,” he argued gently.

"I wish you would stop lecturing me,” she answered quietly. “I’m fine. Please don’t bring this subject up again.”

He didn’t want to upset her further, so he let it drop. But there was one thing above all that alarmed him. He had always loved her eyes. They were incredibly expressive and he could read her moods just by looking at them. When he looked into their dark brown depths now he saw…nothing. It was as if the part of her that felt emotions had been turned off. To every situation she reacted in the same, non-emotional way. There was no laughter in her eyes, no anger, no joy, no grief, no sorrow, nothing.

Adam berated himself for spoiling the one thing that might have brought her some comfort. Meg was a gifted pianist. He was certain that she didn’t realize herself the extent of her talent, but it had been obvious to him early in their relationship. He had made provisions for a piano to be at the house when she came to Nevada for Joe and Carrie’s wedding, many years ago. Sometimes she simply played for his family’s entertainment, or to accompany them as they sang songs in the evening. But on more than one occasion he had caught her playing when she thought she was alone. He could see her lose herself in the music. She did more than simply hit the correct keys in a pleasing manner. Something deep inside her connected with the emotion of the piece she was playing and this found its way to her fingers. At these times he could tell that she was completely unaware of her surroundings, lost in the beauty of the composition. After their marriage, he had seen this same thing occur numerous times.

Some weeks after the baby’s death, Adam came home and heard her playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. He breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps her music would be able to give her the comfort he wanted to give her, but which she seemed incapable of receiving. But he became concerned when, day after day, this piece was the only one she would play. Suddenly the hauntingly beautiful melody began to sound like a funeral dirge.

“That’s lovely, sweetheart, but why don’t you try something else today?” he asked. “Maybe something a little lighter. That piece is so sad.”

She stopped playing, paused, and quietly pulled the cover down over the keys.

“You’re right,” she agreed, rising from the bench. “It’s very sad.” And to his knowledge, she didn’t play the piano anymore at all.

About six weeks after Daisy died, Adam turned to Meg in bed. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, rubbing his nose against her cheek, inhaling her natural perfume. He slipped his arm under her and rolled part way on top of her, beginning to kiss her gently. She didn’t refuse him. Her participation was dutiful. She did what was expected of her…silently. It was the most unsatisfactory love-making he had experienced in all their years of marriage. When it was over, she immediately turned her back on him. Had his need not been so great, he would have discontinued the act as soon as he realized what was or was not happening. And in the back of his mind some thought kept trying to surface…something he felt he should remember. A gut instinct that told him it wouldn’t be pleasant, but it was important nevertheless. He sighed to himself and tried to get some sleep.

Mid August

The Ponderosa was always a busy place in the summer. With Hoss out of the country, Adam, Joe and Ben’s tasks seemed unending. One evening as they were all headed home Ben announced that he needed one of them to go to Denver. An important logging contract was being offered by the railroad and they needed a Cartwright there to bid on it.

“I’d go myself, boys, but you know I’m expecting a delegation from that Mexican ranchers association to be here next week. I think we have a good chance of selling them some of our prime stock for their breeding programs. They’ll be staying at the house and I’ll be tied up. Joe, I guess you should go.”

“Sure, Pa.”

“No, Pa. I’d like to go,” Adam cut in.

“Son, I thought maybe you’d be needed at home for a while.”

“If it’s all the same with you, I’d like to go. How long do you figure it’ll take?”

“A week…ten days at the most, including travel. Are you sure you want to do this?” Ben asked, puzzled.

“If Joe doesn’t mind, I’d like to go.”

“Joseph?” his father asked, looking at him.

“It doesn’t matter to me, Pa. If Adam wants to go, he can. He’s better at that sort of thing than I am anyway.”

“If I’m not prying, son, can I ask why you want to go now? Don’t you think you should be around for…”

“Pa, right now I think Meg needs a little time alone to…to try and heal. I don’t do it on purpose, but I think maybe I’m nagging her and trying to rush her through something that she needs to take her time with. She can manage the kids without me for a week or so. She’s done it before. I’ll be back before school starts.”

“Well, it’s up to you, Adam. But you tell her if she needs anything, she can send one of the children to me or your brother.”

Adam smiled gratefully at his father. “She knows that, Pa. Thanks.”

“Well, I’m off.” Adam bent and kissed his wife on the lips. “If you need anything just ask Pa or Joe.”

“I will,” Meg answered dully.

“You sure you don’t want Emma to come and stay?”

Adam was referring to the woman who had been a housekeeper for them in the past. As he had predicted, the young widow did meet someone and remarry. She had been with them until Daisy was about eight months old, but now lived in Virginia City with her shopkeeper husband and her daughters.

“No. I’ll be alright,” she answered, her voice totally lackluster.

“Aren’t you going to tell me to have a safe trip?”

“Of course. Have a safe trip,” she parroted with the enthusiasm of someone being told they had to spend the next four hours watching paint dry.

He bent to pick up the carpetbag containing his things, changed his mind, turned and took her by the shoulders. He gave her his most direct and penetrating stare.

“Sweetheart, please try to eat more. You’re getting so thin. Take care of yourself.”

She nodded but her eyes were filled with that frightening nothingness.

He kissed her again. “I love you Meg.”

“I love you too.” But to Adam her response sounded as automatic as saying ‘God bless you’ to someone who sneezed. There was no real feeling in it.

“I’m tired of vegables. I want meat!” Annie demanded petulantly.

“You have to cook meat. You know we can’t use the stove. Mama’ll skin us alive,” Jesse answered.

“Mama’s sick. She won’t know.”

“She’ll know if we burn the house down. We just gotta eat what we can get outta the pantry. Beth is there any more bread?” young Adam asked as the four sat around the kitchen table trying to make a meal of jarred beans, jarred peas, and carrots from the root cellar, and a hunk of cheese.

“No, we finished that two days ago. There’s only some soda crackers, but I think Mama took them,” his sister replied as she pushed the vegetables around her plate in a desultory manner. She looked at her older brother with troubled eyes. “Adam what’s the matter with Mama? Why won’t she get out of bed? Why did she stop cooking for us?”

He shook his head and forked some beans into his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, after he swallowed. “I know she’s sad about Daisy. Maybe she’s sad about Pa being away too. She said she just wanted to stay in bed and we weren’t to trouble her. I don’t think she’s the kind of sick when you need the doctor.”

“Why don’t we go to Grandpa’s? Hop Sing could cook for us,” suggested Jesse, who was rapidly tiring of the vegetarian regime they had been forced to adopt.

“No!” his older brother declared. “Grandpa has a house full of company. He doesn’t need all of us over there right now. He’s busy with important ranch work.”

“Then what about Uncle Joe and Aunt Carrie? Couldn’t we go there? Pa said we could go there in a ‘mergency,” Annie proposed.

“This isn’t an emergency. We have plenty of food to eat. We just can’t cook anything. Besides, she busy taking care of Uncle Joe,” Adam answered, referring to the broken leg his uncle had sustained two days after Adam left for Denver.

“I think it’s a ‘mergency,” his little sister muttered under her breath.

“Stop complaining, Annie,” Beth interrupted with unusual force. “Adam’s right. We have enough to eat. We’re Cartwrights and we can take care of each other. Besides, Pa will be back soon. He said he’d be back in a week. He’ll fix everything,” she added with assurance.

Their father had been gone nine days when Jesse came up with what he thought was a clever plan. He and Adam would go fishing after they had finished their chores. They’d catch some fish for dinner.

“What kind of stupid plan is that?” Adam asked him. “We can’t eat raw fish.”

“No, but we can make a fire in the yard and cook the fish over it…you know, like when we go fishin’ with Pa or Uncle Hoss. They let you make a fire then and cook the fish. We can do it in the yard.”

His brother looked at him doubtfully and Jesse seized the opportunity to elaborate.

“Look around, Adam. There’s only dirt in the yard. There’s no grass or trees or anything that could catch fire. We’ll stay far away from the house and barn. We can put pails of water near just in case. If you’re allowed to do that when we go fishing, why not do it right here in the yard?”

“I don’t know…”

“Mama said we can’t use the stove. We wouldn’t be. And we’d only be doing something you’ve been allowed to do before,” Jesse argued persuasively.

“But in the yard?”

“We’ll be real careful and it’ll be okay. We’ll make sure the fire is out when we’re done. C’mon, Adam. I don’t wanna eat any more cold vegetables.”

“Well…I guess it’s alright. But you have to remember one thing.”

“What?”

“We gotta catch the fish first!”

“Just what’s going on here?”

Four pairs of startled eyes looked up to see Adam dismounting and walking over to the nicely burning fire in the middle of the front yard. He had ridden up behind the house and his children, eagerly watching their first hot meal in almost ten days sizzling in the cast iron frying pan, had never even heard him.

“Pa!” they all shouted at once, and jumping up, surrounded him. They hugged him wherever they could reach and danced around as he tried not to be toppled by their enthusiastic reception.

“Hey! Hey! Settle down!” He reached down and picked up Annie. “Now, answer my question. What’s going on? Where’s your mother?”

“Mama’s sick,” Annie said, almost choking him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed.

“No she’s not. She’s just sad.”

“She’s in the house.”

“She went to bed when you left and she stayed there this whole time.”

Each one reported what they perceived to be the truth.

“Adam,” he said to the older boy. “Tell me what’s going on. Is your mother sick? Did you get the doctor?”

“No, Pa. She’s not that kind of sick. Beth is right. She’s sad. And Jesse’s right too. She hasn’t gotten out of bed the whole while you were gone. We were tired of eating cold stuff so we caught fish and made a fire and we were cooking it here. We didn’t touch the stove…promise! And we were being very careful. See all the water?” And he pointed anxiously to the four buckets of water which were in close proximity to the fire.

Adam put his little daughter down and began to walk toward the house. “You stay out here and keep your eye on that fire. I’ll be right back.”

The room was dark, shades drawn, no lamps lit. As soon as he opened the door, Adam’s senses were assaulted by a foul odor…an unemptied chamber pot. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light and he saw his wife, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He approached her and was dismayed to see that she appeared even thinner than when he had left. What the hell was going on here? Was she trying to starve herself to death? He sat down on the bed beside her.

“Meg? I’m home.”

She turned and looked at him and he was appalled to see dark circles under her eyes. He bent to kiss her and was further stunned to note that she smelled horrible, as if she hadn’t bathed in days. How could this be? His wife was fastidious. She insisted that their children bathe twice a week, instead of the once that was most common. Their clothes were changed regularly, including undergarments. ‘Cleanliness is next to Godliness’ was her by-word. Yet here she lay, apparently unwashed, hair knotted and unkempt, in a nightgown that probably hadn’t been changed for several weeks. The fact that she had used the chamber pot was testament to the depths to which she had sunk. She hated them and would venture out in the coldest, foulest weather to the outhouse in order to avoid using the ceramic containers.

“Meg, what is it? Are you sick? What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was thin and flat, devoid of emotion.

“You’re not fine. Why are you in bed?”

She shrugged slightly. “I just want to be here.”

“What about the kids? Why haven’t you been taking care of them? They tell me they haven’t had a hot meal since I left.”

“There’s food…in the pantry.”

“Yes, there’s food in the pantry, but they know they can’t use the stove! So they’ve been eating cold…” He stopped in mid sentence. The niggling thought that had been floating in his mind, as foggy and clouded as a poorly developed photograph, suddenly came into clear and frighteningly sharp focus. Her mother! This is exactly what her mother had done after Meg’s father and brother had been reported lost at sea. Hadn’t she told him the story herself, many years ago, on the beach in Boston? And he remembered what his reaction had been, though he hadn’t verbalized it to her at that time. He had mentally compared the woman to his own father, who had suffered terrible losses three times in his life. Meg’s mother came up short. She had been weak and selfish. She had a small daughter to care for and had simply taken to her bed and wasted away until she died. Except for the arrival of her devoted Aunt Beatrice, his wife might have ended up in an orphanage or in the streets.

Well, he’d be damned if history would repeat itself in his house. Adam’s anger was rarely aroused. He could count on one hand the times he had been truly angry with Meg, but right now he was furious. He sat silently for a minute, then got up, picked up the chamber pot, and walked out the door.

Five minutes later he was back with his children, who were now busily devouring the fried fish. They had foregone the use of utensils and were picking at the food with their fingers. Though he now understood what was going on, this scene further aggravated him. Seeing his children squatting around a frying pan and eating with their hands like some street urchins infuriated him.

“Are you finished?” he asked them quietly.

“Uh huh.” Three of them nodded as they licked their fingers.

“I’m still hungry. Pa, can you cook us something? Can you make bread? Can you cook meat?”

Annie asked the question and he reached down and stroked her curly hair.

“No, I’m not going to make you anything. You’re going to Grandpa’s and spend the night. Hop Sing will make you something nice. I’ll come for you tomorrow.”

He looked around and began delegating jobs. “Beth, you go and get some clothes for you and Annie. Be sure to bring your nightgowns and clean things for tomorrow. By the way, when was the last time any of you had a bath?”

There were sheepish looks and shrugs all around.

“Well, we washed our hands before we ate and we washed our faces and brushed our teeth every morning,” Beth said, somewhat defensively. “At least some of us did,” she added giving Jesse a pointed stare.

“Well, Adam and me went swimmin’ twice, so I guess that counts,” he replied indignantly.

“It’s alright. I’m sure you did the best you could,” their father assured them. “Now go do what I told you. And Jesse, you go take care of Sport and then hitch up a horse to the big buggy.” The boy was off like a shot, while his sister started off for the house.

“Annie, you go and get me a piece of paper and a pen and put everything nicely on the dining room table, okay?” She nodded enthusiastically and scampered off.

He put his arm on young Adam’s shoulder. They walked together to the porch steps and sat down.

“Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened. Why didn’t you go to Grandpa’s for help? Or Uncle Joe’s?

The boy’s eyes misted and he stammered his answer. “I…I thought I was doing the right thing, Pa. I didn’t want to worry anybody. Grandpa has those Mexican men over and right after you left Uncle Joe broke his leg bad. So Aunt Carrie was busy taking care of him. And we really did have enough to eat…just we couldn’t cook it till Jesse thought about the fish. Don’t blame him for that Pa. It was his idea, but I’m the oldest and I said it was alright.”

Adam ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled reassuringly. “Hey. I’m not angry with you or anyone else. I think you did a fine job of taking care of things. Didn’t you know that the Mexicans left three days ago?”

“No, I thought they were staying till you got back. But even if I knew, I probably wouldn’t have gone to Grandpa’s. He’s been so busy cause Uncle Joe got laid up,” the youngster added, wanting to be completely honest.

His father nodded. “Well, what about work? Aren’t you supposed to be helping the hands moving the smaller herds?”

“I did! I went every single day. Joe and me helped them all last week. Then when I got home I made sure the barn chores were done. Jesse was real good, Pa. He worked hard around here so I didn’t have that much to do when I got back. And Beth milked the cows and she even made butter. It didn’t come out so good, but she tried real hard and it didn’t matter anyhow ‘cause we ran out of bread a couple of days ago. And even Annie helped. She fed the chickens and collected all the eggs.”

This pathetic little scenario made Adam wince. “Didn’t anyone stop by?”

“Beth said Reverend and Mrs. Lundstrum came by one day, but she told ’em Ma was taking a nap, so they didn’t stay. And Aunt Carrie came by one day but Beth told her the same thing.”

Adam sighed. So his children had been left to fend for themselves for almost ten days. To their credit, they had done a good job, but that wasn’t the point. They still needed adult supervision. And what were they thinking and feeling? Meg had always been a doting mother. Now they were watching her wither away, apparently unconcerned for their well being. Their young lives had been turned topsy-turvy with the death of their baby sister. What they needed more than anything was some semblance of normalcy and both their parents had failed to provide that.

Adam allotted a portion of the blame to himself. Though he had told his father that his desire to go to Denver was to give his wife a little time alone to heal, if he was going to be honest, he took the trip as much for himself as for her. He was physically exhausted from picking up some of the slack due to Hoss’ absence. He was drained from the emotional toll of the baby’s death, the funeral, and dealing with the grief of his wife and children. Sometimes it seemed as if his marriage was crumbling in front of him. In his eyes, he and Meg should have drawn closer together after the tragedy, comforting and supporting each other. Though their marriage had had its ups and downs, its share of low moments, they had always been able to bolster each other when necessary. He had tried to be there for her in this time of need, but had been frustrated because she seemed to shut him out completely. And she certainly wasn’t able or willing to deal with his needs this time. He had hoped a little time and distance would improve the situation, but obviously it had not. Adam faced the grim prospect that he might not have lost just his child, but his marriage and the sweet way of life he and Meg had created as well.

The trip had been a waste of precious time. Oh, the winning bid had gone to the Ponderosa, but that was the only positive outcome he could see. If Joe had gone, he wouldn’t have ended up with a broken leg. With all three of his boys unavailable, Adam could only imagine how busy Ben must have been, even after his company departed. And being home might have forced Adam to deal with Meg’s depression sooner.

He wasn’t aware of how loudly he had sighed as these thoughts raced through his mind till his son said, “I’m sorry, Pa. I thought I was doing the right thing. You always say our private business is private so I didn’t think you’d want me tellin’ everyone about the cold food and all.”

Adam placed his arm around the boy’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring hug. “Now you listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what you thought I’d want you to do. I don’t want you worrying about it.”

“Well…next time maybe I should tell Grandpa at least, huh?”

“There’s not going to be a ‘next time’, son. I can promise you that.” Adam stood and the boy stood with him. “Now you go pack some clothes for you and your brother. He should have that buggy hitched up in a couple of minutes. I’m going to write a note to your grandfather.”

Annie stationed herself at her father’s knee as he wrote a brief letter to Ben asking him to care for the children overnight. He tried to keep the tone light, explaining that he and Meg needed a few hours alone. No sense in adding to the worries of his overworked father. He felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Whatcha writing, Pa?”

Adam smiled down at her. “A note to Grandpa, asking him to keep you all overnight, sweetie.”

“Can you tell him I want meat?”

He gently stroked her hair. “Sure,” he answered her softly, sadness and anger competing in his heart at her request. His little daughter having to ask for a decent meal! It was outrageous.

They looked at each other for a minute.

“Well, do it, Pa!”

He had to chuckle. She was still the same feisty, outspoken little girl she always was. He jotted down a few more sentences. “There!”

“Where does it say meat?” she demanded.

He pointed out the word. “See? M…e…a…t.” He spelled it for her. “The m makes this sound…mmmm. And these two letters, the e and the a make this sound…eeeee. And the last letter, t, makes this sound…tuh. So you put them all together and you have what?”

“Mmm…eeee…tuh,” she said as he pointed to the letters again. “Meat! I can read meat, Pa!” She laughed in delight and he laughed along with her.

“You sure can.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re as smart as you are pretty. Now, do you think you can hang on to this note and give it to Grandpa when you get to his house?”

“’Course I can!” she said, taking it and placing it carefully in the pocket of her pinafore.

Beth and Adam entered the room holding a small carpetbag between them.

“We’re all packed, Pa. I don’t think we forgot anything,” the boy said.

“Good. Let’s go.”

As they were walking out the door, Beth gave the bag to her brother and hung back a bit.

“Forget something?” her father asked.

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m glad you’re back, Pa. Now everything will be all right again,” she said, hugging him tightly.

Adam squatted down and hugged her back. He said nothing, but he worried about this absolute trust she had that he could make everything ‘all right’. He wasn’t really sure what he was going to do. Perhaps nothing would ever be ‘all right’ again. Much as he believed in being honest with his children, something prevented him from telling her this. Perhaps it was because she had been through so much already. Let her be happy for a few hours.

“Let’s go,” was all he said, taking her hand and walking her to the waiting buggy. He watched as Adam drove them away in the direction of Ben’s. As he turned to go into the house, he saw the still smoldering fire and dirty frying pan from the children’s impromptu meal. The glowing embers rekindled his anger. He made sure the fire was safely extinguished, picked up the pan, and strode into the house.

His first stop was the kitchen. After lighting a fire in the stove he filled two large pots with water and set them on it to heat. He scrubbed the dirty frying pan. In the cellar he retrieved a couple of large potatoes, then rooted around in the cupboards till he found Meg’s grater. He peeled the potatoes and shredded them to make hash browns, scraping his knuckles in the process. This did nothing to improve his mood. He found some rather grainy looking butter in the pantry, no doubt the results of Beth’s efforts, along with two large bowls filled with eggs. Tossing some butter into the frying pan, he dumped in the potatoes. He found an empty bowl and cracked an egg into it. The air was immediately fouled with a pungent sulfur smell. The egg was rotten. Adam swore to himself. Meg rarely put her eggs in the icebox because she used them up so quickly, so Annie had just continued to collect them daily and put them in bowls in the pantry. No telling how many of them had gone bad in the summer heat.

He washed out the bowl and took it and the eggs outside. He cracked open another one. It was bad. He threw it on the ground. He repeated this a dozen more times till he had six good eggs cracked in the bowl. Back in the kitchen, he vented some of his frustration by beating the eggs into a frothy mess. He gave the potatoes a stir and marched toward the bedroom.

Adam pulled open the drapes and opened every window in the room. Taking his wife by the upper arm, he yanked her out of bed. “Get up.”

This movement yielded him an unexpected reward. Meg looked startled. For the first time in a few months, the blank expression in her eyes was gone.

Thank God! Someplace, deep inside, you’re still there, my love. How do I reach you? What do I do? What do I say? How can I convince you that this is not the right way to mourn, to feel grief and anger over what’s happened? I’ve lived with those feelings myself for the past two months. In spite of that you can’t give up. You can’t throw yourself into the grave with Daisy. We all still need you. We all still love you. How can I make you realize that?

Meg swooned against him. He knew she’d be weak from lack of nourishment, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her to the kitchen, seating her none too gently at the table. Adam took some grim pleasure in the fact that his actions had replaced the empty expression in her eyes with…with…what? Anger? Wariness? Some combination of those or something altogether different?

“Do you want coffee or tea?”

Her shrug was barely perceptible.

“Coffee then,” he said, answering his own question, and proceeded to make some. He turned the potatoes and dropped more butter into a second frying pan. When it had melted, he poured in the eggs, let them set a bit, then stirred gently. He placed silverware on the table in front of her and another set across from her place. Grabbing a couple of plates, he dished up the hastily thrown together meal.

“Eat this,” he ordered, placing the plate before her and seating himself on the other side of the table. She didn’t move.

“Meg, pick up that fork and eat or I’ll force the food down your throat.”

Emotion flickered briefly in her eyes and she picked up the fork. She stabbed a piece of egg and put it in her mouth. Some potato followed, then more eggs. When Adam was satisfied with her response, he began to clear his own plate.

Ah! You didn’t like that, did you, my love? Well, I’ve never spoken to you like that before. The only person who likes this less than you is me. But I’ll do what it takes, Meg. Whatever it takes to bring you back to where we were before Dasiy…No, I suppose we can never be exactly at that place again. But we can regain much of what was lost. We have four other children to consider. I can’t believe you don’t care about them. You’re just somewhat lost yourself right now. But I’ll bring you back. You have to come back.

Adam finished before she did and spent the extra time cleaning up the kitchen. Meg ate in stony silence. He lifted the heavy pots of hot water off the stove and carried them to the small back room that housed their tub. By the time he returned she had finished the meal.

“Done? Good!” he said, pulling out her chair and marching her to the bathroom. “The tub’s full. I think the water’s hot enough. Now get out of that gown and take a bath.” He began to walk out, then paused and turned. She stood there motionless. He glared at her and took a step towards her.

“I mean it, Meg.” His voice was low, but dangerous. Her hand went to the buttons at the throat of the nightgown.

He returned to the bedroom and stripped the sheets off the bed. The place already looked and smelled a hundred times better than when he had entered it earlier. For some reason, these domestic activities made him feel better. He gathered clean clothes for her, but found her sitting motionless in the tub, a sullen expression on her face.

“If you don’t pick up that sponge and start to wash, I’ll do it for you,” he warned and tossed the clean clothes on a chair. “And wash your hair while you’re at it,” he added as he left.

Some time later she walked into the bedroom where Adam was remaking the bed with clean linens. She was fully dressed and a towel was wrapped around her head. Adam pointed to the chair at her little dressing table.

“Sit down.”

She complied.

He stood behind her and tugged at the turban. Her damp hair cascaded to her waist. He began to rub it vigorously with the towel.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!”

She speaks! I can see our progress is to be measured in small steps.

“I’d like to take a belt to you.”

He reached over her shoulder and picked up her comb. With more tenderness than before, he began to draw it through her curls.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Doing what? Dragging you back into the land of the living? Forcing you to observe basic rules of hygiene? Trying to prevent you from staving yourself to death? Which one, hmm?”

She didn’t answer him, so he simply continued to comb through her long hair. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were closed.

What are you thinking, Meg? Your expression is peaceful. Are you allowing yourself to enjoy this? Have the demons who’ve captured you released their grip a little?

It took him some minutes to comb through her tangles. Finally, satisfied that he had done the best he could, he put down the comb.

“Let’s go.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him in surprise. “Go? Go where?’

“You’ll see.”

“I can’t go out. My hair’s still wet.”

“It’s warm out. It’ll dry soon enough. Come on.”

He put out his hand to help her, but she stood on her own. The food had done its job and she was no longer faint.

“Well?” she asked.

“Outside. Bring a pair of scissors.”

She followed him out the back door, stopping to get a pair of shears. He walked ahead of her to her garden. Meg loved to garden. She raised all their vegetables with plenty left over to share with her sisters-in-law. Their fall days were spent canning, drying and storing the bounty for the cold months ahead. And she adored flowers. All during the spring and summer, the sunny plot was filled with colorful blooms. There were vases all over the house and she dried many of her best to brighten up the rooms in the winter.

She surveyed what had been her pride and joy. Weeds had run amok. Vegetables were rotting on the vines. Some plants had already gone to seed, earlier than they should have if they had been properly attended.

“I’ve neglected my garden,” was all she said.

“Among other things,” Adam responded. “Can you find enough flowers for four bouquets? They don’t have to be very large.”

“I guess so.” She walked among the plants and began to clip a few here and there.

Not good. You haven’t even asked what we’re going to do with these flowers. What can I do to shake you out of this lethargy?

“When you’re finished, meet me at the barn.”

She nodded and continued to cut more flowers.

“Are these enough?” she asked, joining him as he finished hitching a horse to their small carriage.

“That’s fine. Now get in,” he said, holding out his hand to assist her. She didn’t argue…simply gave him her free hand and allowed him to assist her into the carriage. She was silent for the first ten minutes or so of their drive, until she realized where they were going.

“Adam, I don’t want to go there.”

No response.

“Adam, please. I don’t want to go there.”

He continued to drive on in silence.

“No, Adam…please.”

Ah! Emotion rising to the surface. Panic? Fear? It doesn’t matter. She’s reacting. Progress? Am I even sure of what I’m doing? Will I make things worse? Impossible. Nothing is worse than the way she’s been since the baby died.

He continued to ignore her increasingly strident protests and drove up to the small family cemetery. There were four graves here. The oldest belonged to Marie, Joe’s mother. The rest were much more recent. Hoss had had the body of little Eddie, Rebecca’s son from her first disastrous marriage, moved here soon after their wedding. He had been astonished by her gratitude.

“Gosh, hon, it ain’t much to do,” he said, as she kissed and hugged him when he suggested this to her.

“Oh no! You are wrong! It means so much to me…so much! You can never know. You are so good to me, Hoss. I love you so much!” And she proceeded to express her gratitude in a way that was totally satisfying to the both of them.

The third grave contained the remains of the child of Carrie’s second miscarriage. The first had occurred very early in the pregnancy, but the second happened much later and having a service and a formal burial helped the young couple through their grief. The child had never been named. The small white cross simply said, “Baby daughter of Joseph and Caroline Cartwright.”

Daisy’s grave was the fourth. The grass had already grown in, but there was no headstone yet. Adam had postponed ordering one, wanting Meg to have a say in the selection.

He stopped the carriage and looked at his wife, who had grown silent again. A plethora of feelings showed in her face. She was angry, sad, and frightened. But mostly he saw that she was resigned. He got out and helped her down.

The little cemetery was carefully and lovingly tended. A low fence surrounded the area, the grass was neatly clipped, the three headstones in good repair. They placed a small bouquet at each one. He took her hand and they stood in front of the spot where their child had been laid to rest. Meg bent down and placed the last bouquet on top of the still mounded earth. She picked at some non-existent weeds, then stood up.

“Is this what you wanted Adam?” she asked. “Did you think that I was somehow denying that our baby is dead? That by bringing me here, I’d admit what you thought was too hard for me to say? Well, I know she’s dead, Adam…DEAD!…not some sanitized euphemism like ‘passed away’ or ‘passed on’ or ‘gone to her eternal rest’. She’s dead, Adam…d..e..a..d…DEAD! Is that why you brought me here? Because if it is we can leave now.” Her voice had increased in volume and pitch, until she was shouting at him.

M…e…a…t Meat. I can read meat, Pa! D…e…a…d…Dead! The baby’s DEAD! Oh God, this is lunacy. What am I thinking? I’m in no better shape than she is. What the hell am I doing?

“I don’t know why I brought you here.”

This quiet admission stopped her ranting. They stared silently at each other. With some sort of terrifying premonition, Adam knew that this was a pivotal moment. This was the point at which he would get her back or perhaps lose her forever. “I don’t know why I brought you here. But it’s not why you think. I know only too well that you know that Daisy died.” He looked down, rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.

“It’s been a devastating experience for you…for all of us. I know we’ll never be the same. And if it was just you and me,” his hand sawed between them, “then I could probably leave things the way they are. I’d hate it, but I’d leave you alone, if that’s what you really wanted. But we have four children to consider. They need us…they need you, Meg. You’re their mother. You’ve always been devoted to them…doting, caring, loving. They’ve already suffered the loss of their sister. I can’t let them lose their mother, too. I needed to try whatever I could to force you out of this…this state that you’re in. You can mourn the baby, but you can’t abdicate your responsibility to Adam, Jesse, Beth, and Annie. What can I do to make you see just how much those children need their mother…now, more than ever before?”

He waited to see if his words would have any effect on her. He wished he could have put those thoughts more eloquently, but he had spoken quickly and from the heart. How would she react?

Meg looked down at her little girl’s grave, then at her husband. “They deserve a better mother than the one they have.”

Of all the things she might have said, this was the most unexpected and the most puzzling.

“What do you mean? You’re a wonderful mother,” he protested.

“No, I’m not. What kind of mother would allow her baby to die?” The words were spoken quietly, in a frighteningly calm voice.

“That’s ridiculous, Meg. You’re not responsible for the baby’s death. She had the measles. She was sick.”

“You weren’t there, Adam. You don’t know what happened.” She still spoke dispassionately.

“Well, why don’t you tell me.” Talk, Precious, please, please talk!

She sighed deeply, gathering her thoughts. “The night that Annie had her seizure was probably the most frightening of my life. You saw how sick she was…how hot. The fever seemed to be consuming her. I was terrified. I watched helplessly as she grew more and more ill. And then she began to convulse. I can’t begin to tell you how…there are no words…” She shook her head in frustration, but Adam said nothing.

“Anyway, when the seizure was over, I sat and watched her. I never let my eyes move from her. I wanted to notice any change, however slight, in her condition. I held her little hand, stroked it, spoke quietly to her. And gradually I did see a change. Her breathing eased and her skin wasn’t so flushed. That’s when I came and woke you up.”

He nodded in remembrance, but still said nothing. Meg’s face beginning to reflect the pain of what she was about to tell him. She grew agitated, then took a calming breath.

“You wanted me to go to bed, but there was still Daisy to consider. She was never as sick as Annie. In fact, her case was quite mild in comparison…more like the other children. So I moved Annie over a bit and sat on the bed with her.” Here Meg suddenly sank to the ground. She smoothed the grass over the baby’s grave, almost as if smoothing a blanket over her body. Adam quietly sat beside her.

“I was tired…so tired.” She stared into the distance, frowned, and shook her head. “NO! No excuses…no excuses.” She was talking to herself now. “If I had watched her the way I watched Annie, then…” Her eyes filled with tears, but she stopped running her hands across the grass and finally looked at her husband.

“I fell asleep, Adam. I fell asleep next to Annie. When I woke up, Annie was still sleeping peacefully. Then I checked Daisy. At first she just looked like she was sleeping, but then I noticed she was so still…unnaturally still. I picked her up…tried to wake her…to rouse her…but…nothing. That’s when I called out for you.” By this time, tears were streaming down her face.

Adam still said nothing. He wanted her to say it…to verbalize the terrible secret that had held her captive these past few months. Once she had done that, he could expose it for what it was…a lie that grief had forced her to feed herself…a misconception on her part. But she had to say it first.

“Don’t you understand? If I had stayed awake…if I had watched her like I watched Annie…she’d be alive today. I’m responsible, Adam. I fell asleep! I fell asleep! And I let my baby die. She died all alone and I slept!” And she collapsed on Daisy’s little grave, weeping hysterically.

His instinct was to gather her up, to hold her, comfort her, and reassure her. But he didn’t. Something held him back.

Let it all out, my love. Let all those vile feelings that have been poisoning you for months escape. You know, I’ve never seen you cry over the baby, Meg. Oh, you may have, sometime in private, but you’ve remained so stoic in front of everyone. I knew that wasn’t natural…should have suspected something was seriously wrong right away. But I was dealing with my own grief at the time. Forgive me for letting you suffer this long.

“I should have stayed awake…watched her…held her,” she continued to sob. “My poor baby died all alone. How could I allow that to happen?”

Finally Adam did reach over and pull her into his arms. She continued to cry, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. He waited patiently till her weeping lessened somewhat.

“All this time you’ve believed you could have saved Daisy if you had only stayed awake? My poor girl! There wasn’t a thing you could have done. I spoke to Doc Martin about this. Annie was so much sicker. Why did she survive and not Daisy? Do you want to know what he told me?”

“What difference would it make?” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Maybe no difference, if you’re bound and determined to blame yourself for something that you couldn’t have prevented. But listen anyway. Paul said that there was probably something wrong with the baby’s heart. It wasn’t anything that you’d notice when she was healthy, but it was probably there all the same. He mentioned something about underdeveloped valves or even a small hole in the heart. Anyway, he believes that some symptoms might have shown up eventually. And even though she didn’t seem as sick as Annie, somehow her illness might have caused a problem with her heart. So you could have watched her every second, and not been able to prevent her death.”

“How can he know that, Adam? He’s just guessing. He was just saying anything to make you feel better, like you’re doing with me.”

Adam grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Now listen to me! Paul’s a good doctor. He’s had a lot of experience. He says he’s seen this before. If he says this is what probably happened, then I believe him. You don’t want to believe him because it’s too convenient for you to continue to blame yourself.” He shook her again, his frustration showing on his face. “What’s happened to your common sense, Meg? Can you look me in the eye and tell me with a straight face that staying up and watching Daisy would have helped?” He let her go, removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it, what can I say to make you understand that you’re not responsible? Probably nothing! You’ve been determined to be guilty of this non-existent crime ever since you had words with Carrie the day before the funeral. I should have stepped in then and put a stop to all this.”

Adam’s voice was rising and he had his wife’s attention. She could count on one hand the number of times he had sworn in front of her and he had never treated her roughly…never laid a hand on her except one that was loving.

“I know you were upset and exhausted, that you spoke without thinking. You wanted to blame somebody…strike out at someone or something. Carrie was an easy target. But I know you, Meg. You were probably appalled by what you said when you had a chance to think about it. You were hurting and furious. Who could you blame? The safest person would be yourself.”

He let his hands slide down her arms and took her hands in his. His tone was milder, but still intense. “Listen. What you’ve been doing these past weeks is punishing yourself. There’s no need to do that. You weren’t to blame. No one was. But the way you chose to punish yourself punished the kids as well. That has to stop. You’ve got to think of them. They’ve suffered too, and now they’re frightened because they have no idea what’s happening to their mother.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek. He looked into her eyes. Behind the tears that glistened there he saw a spark of some emotion that he couldn’t name.

Meg, have I reached you? Was it mentioning the other four children that did it? Think about them, sweetheart. They need you back. And I need you back.

“The children are frightened?”

“Yes.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of the way you’ve been behaving. And they’re frightened for you too. They’ve just lost their sister. They need their mother.”

Meg swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She sighed deeply. “I know what you’re saying is true. I know it. I do.” She sighed again and then, once more running her hand over the young grass that covered the little mound, added quietly, “I want my baby back.”

His heart broke at her poignant little statement. “I know, sweetheart. I know. I do too.”

She turned suddenly, facing him and spoke with incredible vehemence, her mood changing dramatically. “Why did this happen to us? Why us? We’re good people, Adam. You’re a wonderful husband and father, a good neighbor and friend. We try to do what’s right, live decent lives, and raise the children to be the same way. There are so many evil, rotten people out there. Why did this happen to us?” She got to her knees, hands resting on her thighs. Her face was contorted with emotion. “I’m so angry. I’m angry at God, at fate, angry at…at…I don’t know…whoever or whatever is responsible.”

Oh, my love, I’m so glad you’re finally saying it. It needs to be said. You can’t keep all that bottled up inside. The anger is just as real as the grief, Meg. You need to express it. There are so many people who want to listen…to help us get through this. Please unload a little of that burden.

“I know how you feel. I’m angry too. Angry and sad. But, I try to remember how lucky we’ve been. How many of our friends have buried more than one child, or a spouse? I know it sounds trite, but this is a part of life. We’ve been lucky so far. Far luckier than many people we know.”

“And it comforts you to think of that?”

He shook his head slowly and paused before answering. “No. Not really. But I think it puts things in perspective. There’s nothing I can tell myself that eases the pain. I hope time will do that eventually. I hoped we could help each other.”

While he was speaking, a veil lifted from Meg’s eyes. The effects of her actions on her beloved husband came into sharp focus. What had she been thinking? How could she have neglected him? He was in as much pain as she was.

And, unbidden, other thoughts filled her mind. She recalled the births of Beth and Annie. Both times Adam had asked her if she wanted to name the child after her mother, Jane Prescott and both time she had said no. Adam hadn’t argued when she said she’d rather name their first daughter after his mother. Elizabeth was a lovely name and Ben would be so pleased by the choice. If he insisted, she could be called Elizabeth Jane. But when Annie was born he pressed the issue. She finally confessed that she still harbored resentment against her mother for her behavior after the deaths of her father and brother. She had simply given up on life, taken to her bed and wasted away. Meg didn’t want to name any of their daughters after her. No, the new baby would be named Anne Prescott Cartwright, and that was that.

Well, hadn’t she been guilty of exactly the same behavior as her mother? Why hadn’t she seen it? How could she have forsaken her duties as a wife and mother? How could she have left her husband to attend to everything, when Daisy’s death had affected him as much as it had affected her? Dear Lord, she couldn’t…wouldn’t allow herself to go down that same path. Adam was right. Her children needed her…and maybe…just maybe…he needed her. She reached out her hand and touched his cheek.

“My poor Adam. I’ve been so selfish. Daisy was your daughter too and I’ve left you to bear all this alone. I promised to love you for better or worse and when the worst came I all but deserted you.”

She leaned over and combed through his hair with her fingers. Her touch was gentle and loving. He reveled in it. It had been so long since they’d had any affectionate contact with each other. “You’re so strong Adam…so self-assured. You always seem to know what to do. I forgot that maybe sometimes you need to someone to lean on too.” She let her hand slide down his face and cupped his cheek. “I didn’t mean to abandon you.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to abandon the children. I was just so…so…I don’t even think I can put it into words. But I’m sorry…very, very sorry. I won’t do to all of you what my mother did to me. That’s just how I’ve been behaving, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for his reply. “Well,” she said with some heartening bit of determination in her voice, “I won’t let that happen. I know how it affected me. Our children won’t have to go through that, I promise you.”

He grasped her hand and slid it to his lips, placing a tender kiss in her palm. “You don’t have to apologize, Meg. I know how hard all this has been on you.”

“Of course it’s been hard on me, but that’s no excuse. It’s been hard on everyone. Harder on you because I…I retreated into a shell or something and dumped the responsibility for everything and everyone on you. That’s not what marriage should be. At least our marriage has never been like that.”

Adam held her hand between his own. He stroked her fingers, ran his nail over her wedding ring. “No, our marriage has never been like that, but these were some extraordinary circumstances. I don’t want to dwell on what’s happened. Oh, I’m not talking about the baby. We need to talk about her and mourn her, and celebrate the fact that we had her with us as long as we did. We need to help the other children with what they’re feeling. But I hope we can put the past couple of months behind us and try to regain something of the life we had before all of this.”

She nodded as he spoke, then leaned forward and embraced him. He pulled her closer and they knelt there for a while, just hugging silently. Words would have been superfluous.

Welcome back, Meg. Welcome back, my love.

Eventually he stood and pulled her up. “Let’s go home.”

“What about the children?” she asked, brushing the grass off her dress.

“Leave them with my father. We’ll get them tomorrow.”

They spent the rest of the day together, and he noted with some satisfaction that she threw herself into her neglected housework. While he worked outside, she baked bread, cookies, and a couple of pies. She changed linens, piled up dirty clothes to be taken to the Chinese man who did their laundry, dusted and swept the house. Her workbasket was full of mending that she decided to attend to later. Every once in a while she’d seek out Adam, place her arms around him, and just hold on. He held her tenderly, silently, and then she’d be on her way again, keeping busy with all the tasks that needed to be done. He helped her in the garden, and together they restored some order to it. When she asked about the burned spot in the yard, he explained about the children’s attempts to cook dinner. Her face fell.

“Look,” he said to her, draping his arm around her shoulder, “you’re going to learn about the things they did while you were…indisposed. You can’t let it upset you every time. They may misread your unhappiness about it as disapproval. They did the best they could. By the way, have you cracked open any eggs?”

“Yes, I needed a few to make the cookies.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Well I’d say you got lucky. If I were you I’d throw the rest out and start fresh. They left them all out and more than a few were bad. I discovered that earlier when I was making you lunch.”

She chuckled. He grinned back at her. It was such a simple thing, but so delightfully normal, this conversation. When was the last time he had heard her laugh? It seemed like eons ago. He placed his hand around her neck, bent down, and kissed her sweetly on the lips. They rubbed noses.

“This sorta reminds me of when we were first married. You know, just the two of us together,” he said.

What wonderful days those were! We’ve always worked well together, you and me, Meg. And sometimes in the afternoon I’d grab your hand and we’d run back to the house and make love for a while…just because we could…just because we wanted to. But I won’t ask that of you yet. You’ve come so far today. Tremendously far. And I don’t want a ‘dutiful’ wife. No. I’ve been very lucky in that respect. Now I can wait until you’re ready to come to me. I want what we had before. It’ll take time, but I can wait.

“It is sort of like that, isn’t it?” she smiled at him. She hugged him again, holding on for just a minute and absorbing some of his strength into her body.

“Well, I’ve got to go throw out those eggs and gather the new ones. I thought for tomorrow I’d make chicken for dinner but you’ll have to…”

She still couldn’t bring herself to slaughter the birds. Her sons generally took care of that for her. To her amazement, even tender-hearted Beth wasn’t as distressed over killing a chicken as she was. It was the difference of being raised on a ranch or being raised in the city, as Adam had pointed out to her numerous times.

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured her. “How many?”

“Two.”

“When you’re in the kitchen you’d better check on what’s been passing for butter,” he called to her as she headed for the house.

“I’ve already seen it,” she called back. “It’s taken care of.”

That night they collapsed into bed, exhausted. They slept, wrapped together, despite the warmth of the evening. It was a deep, healing sleep, devoid of sex, full of loving commitment to each other. In the morning, after breakfast, Meg asked Adam to hitch up the small buggy for her while he rode Sport to get the children.

“Don’t you want to come with me?” he asked in surprise.

“I have an errand to run. You pick them up. I’ll meet you back here.”

“What errand? Maybe I can do it for you,” he said, concerned about her doing too much, too soon. For all the progress of yesterday, she was still emotionally fragile.

“No, I have to do this myself. I need to go see Carrie.”

He shook his head. “That can wait. You don’t have to do that right now. She’ll understand.”

“No. I have to go now. It’s been too long. I can’t have these hard feelings between us.”

“I don’t think she has any hard feelings. She knows what you were going through.”

“Maybe. But I still have to go. And I want to do it now. Will you hitch up for me?’

He nodded reluctantly. She was beginning to dig her heels in and years of experience had taught him not to fight her when she got this way.

“Oh for pity sake, Joe. You’ll just have to wait for it. I only have two hands and the baby needs to go down for his nap,” Carrie called to her husband, who had asked for the third time for a little more coffee. “Honestly,” she muttered to herself. “Men are such babies. You’re easier to take care of than your Pa, you know that?” she added, speaking to little Daniel as she carried him off to his bed. The baby answered her with a broad yawn. She put him down and covered him, watching a moment as his big eyes closed and he drifted off. She stroked the hair off his face and was bending to kiss his forehead when there was a knock at the door.

“Now who on earth can that be?”

“Hey Carrie, there’s someone at the door,” Joe called out to her.

“I know, I know,” she answered, rushing off and pulling the door open with some force in her haste. For once in her life, Caroline Cartwright was struck speechless.

“Hello, Carrie. May I come in?”

Carrie quickly regained the use of her vocal chords. “Meg!”

She rushed at her sister-in-law and best friend, nearly knocking her over in her enthusiasm to welcome her. Then, true to form, Carrie burst into tears as she tried to hug Meg and drag her into the house simultaneously. They embraced for a long time, rocking together, and laughing and crying at the same time.

Both started to speak at once…stopped to let the other one talk…then started to speak at the same time again. This silly little scenario caused them to burst into fits of laughter.

“Hey Carrie! Who’s at the door?” Joe called out from the bedroom.

“It’s Meg, Joe. I think your coffee will have to wait!”

An hour later Carrie and Meg walked to the door, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. Adam had been right. Despite Meg’s harsh, even cruel words, Carrie had born no hard feelings.

“Before you go…oh, I know you’re anxious to get back to the children…but before you go, I have something for you,” Carrie said, disengaging herself and going over to the lovely sideboard in her dining room. She opened one of the drawers and took out an item carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

“I don’t know if I should give this to you now or not. But I’m not sure when would be the right time to do it. I hope you like it,” she finished and handed the bumpy item over to Meg.

Meg carefully removed the tissue paper. It had been wrapped around a clay bust of a lovely little girl.

“Daisy,” she whispered. The tears that had been holed up inside for the past months

seemed ever ready to flow now. She removed an already damp handkerchief from her pocket and mopped her streaming eyes.

“It’s beautiful, Carrie. It looks just exactly like her. Her eyes, her cheeks, the tilt of her nose...everything is just right. How can I ever thank you?”

“Well, you can give it right back to me, that’s how,” Carrie told her startled friend. “I’m going to have it cast in bronze. I know some people in San Francisco who can do it. That’s just the clay model. I plan to work on it some more and then you’ll have something permanent,” Carrie answered, relieved at the good reception her work had received.

“I don’t deserve a friend like you,” Meg remarked handing back the little bust.

“That’s true! You deserve someone much better. I should have insisted on seeing you. This nonsense has gone on way too long. But then Joe broke his leg and you know what taking care of a sick man is like,” she said in a way that managed to be both dramatic and comical at the same time. “Well now, don’t dawdle around here. You get home and take care of those four hooligans. I’m sure you’ll be busy, but don’t be too busy to stop by from time to time.”

“I’ll be by. And thanks again for everything,” Meg said, hugging Carrie once more before going home.

“That was a great dinner, Ma,” young Adam complimented her as the little family sat around the fire that night. The evening had turned cold and Adam had built a fire, not only for warmth, but also for the cozy atmosphere it provided.

“Yeah, chicken, and it ain’t even Sunday!” Jesse chirped up.

“Isn’t not ain’t, his parents corrected him together. They looked up at each other and laughed. Adam sat in his leather armchair, the same one Meg had bought for him just before they were married. Years of use had made it more comfortable than ever. His eldest son sat at his feet, the new book he was reading ready to be opened. Jesse was on the hearth, whittling a piece of pine and carefully tossing the scrapings into the fire. And the girls sat on the sofa on either side of their mother, Beth with her knitting and Annie with the little patchwork quilt she was working on for her doll. The domestic scene was ordinary and familiar. Most nights they sat this way for an hour or so before the children went to bed. Yet Adam realized that the very commonplace nature of this gathering was what made it spectacularly special, at least to him. He had feared he might never experience it again.

“Mama, I think there’s a problem with my knitting, but I don’t know what it is. It’s starting to look crooked,” Beth said handing her work to her mother.

“Hmm, let’s see.” Meg’s experienced eyes searched the little scarf for a problem. “Here is it, sweetie. You dropped a stitch here and another one here. Go fetch me a crochet hook and I’ll show you how to pick them up.”

While her older daughter was off to find the necessary implement, Annie, normally a fidgety child, sat quietly next to her mother, sewing diligently and with great concentration. She was about as close to Meg as she could get without being in her lap, Adam noticed. Suddenly she dropped the quilt square and said, “Guess what Mama? I can spell meat! I can read it too.”

“You can?” Meg looked down at her in surprise.

“Uh huh!” The curly head bobbed up and down excitedly. “Listen. M…e…a…t…meat! Isn’t that good?”

“That’s wonderful! When did you learn that?” Meg asked putting her arm around the child and giving her a hug.

“Pa showed me yesterday…before we went to Grandpa’s. Will you teach me more words?”

“Of course I will. We can start tomorrow if you like.”

Adam waited. At this point one could usually expect a sarcastic remark from Jesse, the teaser in the family. He might disparage his little sister’s accomplishment or maybe comment that no one could make him do any type of spelling lesson in the summer. But the boy was silent. Adam wasn’t very surprised. Jesse was on his best behavior. All the children were. They had been attentive to Meg from the moment of their happy reunion. All afternoon they had been solicitous of her, running and fetching for her, slaves to her every wish. The mother they knew and loved had returned after a frightening absence. They were doing everything possible to make sure she didn’t leave them again. Did Meg notice? She must have. Their little brood could be very rowdy on occasion.

Beth returned and sat close to Meg, who showed her how to correct her mistake.

“Maybe you and I can make some butter tomorrow. What do you say?”

The little girl blushed. “I tried, Mama. I guess I didn’t so such a good job, but…”

“Nonsense! You did a wonderful job for your first try. You should have seen what my first batch of butter looked like. Yours was much better. And I was already a grown up when I started.”

“Really?” Beth asked, finding it hard to believe that her very competent mother had ever been less than successful at anything she undertook.

“Really! I was a city girl and I knew just about nothing when it came to living on a ranch. It was very hard for me at first. You Pa was very patient.” She smiled ruefully at her husband.

“Don’t give up, Beth. Your mother didn’t,” Adam interjected. “When she wants to do something she puts her whole heart into it and keeps trying till she does it well. You can do that too.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and wiggled his fingers. “Now what about a little music, hmm? Feel like playing Meg?”

“I’m a little busy here, Adam,” she answered nodding to the daughter glued to each side of her. “Why don’t you play alone this once? Jesse, get Pa his guitar.”

After tuning the instrument, Adam asked for requests. They sang just about everything they could think of. Beth and young Adam could harmonize so the little group made some very pretty music together. They sang Greensleeves, Barbara Allen, Scarborough Fair, and The Old Oaken Bucket. Jesse requested Blow the Man Down, and Adam asked for Tramp, Tramp, Tramp the Boys Are Marching. Adam played Annie Laurie for his littlest child and English Country Gardens for Beth.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Meg said at last. “It’s well past bedtime. Off you go and Pa and I will be in to hear your prayers and say goodnight in a few minutes.”

As the four headed for their bedrooms, young Adam looked back and asked, “Ma, will you sing All Through the Night while we get ready? Please?”

This was a favorite lullaby of Meg’s. She had sung it innumerable times to her children, individually or as a group, and frequently the last thing they heard before they drifted off to sleep was their mother singing or humming this sweet and soothing tune.

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered softly to her husband.

“We’ll sing it together. Just try, sweetheart.”

She nodded and he played a brief introduction. Their voices blended beautifully as they began the familiar old song.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee

All through the night

Guardian angels God will send thee

All through the night

Soft the drowsy hours are creeping

Hill and vale in slumber sleeping

I my loving vigil keeping

All through the night.

Her voice broke on the last line, thoughts of Daisy rushing into her head. She hadn’t kept vigil enough over that child. Even though she now believed she couldn’t have prevented what happened, it would take time to lose all the feelings of guilt that had built up inside her. She choked up and couldn’t go on, but Adam continued to sing.

Love, to thee, my thoughts are turning

All through the night

All for thee my heart is yearning

All through the night

Though sad fate our lives may sever

Parting will not last forever

There’s a hope that leaves me never

All through the night

She wiped away her tears, got up, and sat on the arm of Adam’s chair. He carefully laid down the guitar and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“You believe some day we’ll see her again?”

“I believe that someday, in a way we can’t possibly understand, we’ll be reunited. And I should think that you’d believe that too. Didn’t you tell me you once met my mother?”

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, then rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes. I forgot about that.” She was silent for a minute. “It gives me some comfort to think that perhaps you mother is taking care of Daisy. You know…she didn’t get to take care of you but now she can look after our baby. It seems fitting, somehow. And it comforts me.”

“Then think it.”

“But that’s not the same thing as believing in ghosts?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I’m not up for a religious or philosophical discussion right now.” He hugged her tightly. “You’ve been wonderful today, Meg. We’re both tired. I think we should tuck in the kids and then tuck in ourselves. We have plenty of time to talk about all this. What do you say?”

She slid off the arm of the chair and, taking his hands, pulled him up. “You’re right. It’s time for this family to be in bed."

So together they heard their children’s prayers, and, arms around each other, they went to bed.

FULL CIRCLE

“Adam?”

“Hmm?”

He and Meg were seated at the table after supper one evening in late August. They were enjoying another cup of coffee and he was quietly perusing the newspaper that he’d bought in town earlier in the day.

“Adam, I need two hundred dollars.”

The coffee cup stopped half way between the saucer and his lips. The paper came down and one eyebrow went up.

“Two hundred dollars?”

She was biting her lower lip nervously, but nodded. “Yes. That’s what I said. Two hundred dollars.”

He put the cup down. “What for?”

She straightened her back as she always did when she was feeling a bit defensive. “Clothes.”

“Clothes?”

“Yes, clothes.”

“You suddenly need two hundred dollars worth of clothes?”

“Well, they’re not all for me.”

“Oh?”

She began to speak rapidly. “No, of course not. When have I ever asked you for such a huge sum for clothes?”

This was true. The most money he could ever recall her requesting was fifteen dollars. She was frugal to a fault and he gladly turned over the household bookkeeping to her because of that, and because she was clever with numbers. Adam had no complaints to make about a spend-thrift wife.

“The clothes are for all the children and for me,” she continued, still talking unusually rapidly. “Most of the clothes they have now are suitable for but certainly not suitable for Boston. And you know I usually make their clothes, but you suggested this trip so suddenly that I don’t have time to do it all myself. So I’m going to need to have both dressmakers and Mr. Weston make the new garments. And that’s why it’s costing so much money. Because they really need the new clothes. I mean it’s essential that they’re dressed appropriately.”

Adam held his hand up, palm facing her. “Will you stop and take a breath,” he said.

“May I have the money?”

He sat back, crossed one leg over the other and crossed his arms.

Oh great! she thought. Now he’s adopting his judge’s pose. ‘Prove it to me. Show me the evidence.’ I hate it when he gets like this!

“You’re telling me that none of the clothes they have now are suitable for this trip to Boston?”

“No, Adam, I’m not saying that. The girls’ best dresses are fine, and the boys’ Sunday suits are passable, but they really need some new outfits. And they all need new shoes. I mean, you honestly can’t expect them to visit Boston looking like they do when they’re running around this ranch?”

“So if they already have some suitable clothes, why do they need more?” he asked, ignoring the last part of her remark.

“Adam, we’ll be in Boston for three weeks. They can’t wear the same clothes for three straight weeks. And I want them to have what’s fashionable in the city. The boys need two new suits each, the girls each need a couple of new dresses, they need new shoes, hats, gloves, and…and…I need two new gowns. If I could do all of it myself I would and that would save a considerable amount. But there’s just no time. I mean, we’re leaving in a few weeks.”

“Don’t you think it’s a waste of money to buy clothes they probably won’t be using when we get back here? I mean, at the rate they grow, these clothes’ll be too small for them before they can wear them more than a few times.”

She didn’t answer right away. Finally she said, “The younger ones usually end up wearing the older ones’ hand me downs, so they’ll be used more than you say. And you know that Rebecca and Carrie and I swap children’s clothes all the time.”

Adam uncrossed his legs and picked up his coffee cup. After taking a sip he said, “Well, I suppose it’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to be ashamed of our kids in Boston. I wouldn’t want people to think they were uneducated hicks who grew up on a ranch in the wild west, had no manners, and didn’t know how to dress.”

She sighed. “Oh dear! Now you’re angry. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. Of course our children have manners and are educated. But the clothes…well, we dress them differently for school and for play and for church. This is the same thing. You know. The appropriate clothes for the appropriate occasion.”

She got up and stood next to him. “Adam, do you think I ask you for too much? Is that why you’re being difficult about this?”

He looked at here through narrowed eyes. She knew damned well he didn’t think she was demanding. Yet she stood there, the picture of innocence, with what appeared to be genuine concern written all over her face. He started to laugh.

“Wasn’t it Hoss who said one time you should be an actress? Well he was right. That’s quite a little performance you just put on, dear heart! All right. You can have the money,” was all he said, picking up the paper again, still chuckling.

She bit her lip again and wrinkled her nose. “Well, there’s one more little thing.”

The paper dropped enough for him to look at her over its top pages. “What?”

“You need a new suit.”

“No.”

“Yes. Yes, you do. You badly need a new suit and a suit of formal evening clothes.”

“No.”

“Adam!”

“No. My clothes are fine.”

“Please…please do it for me…a new suit and a suit of evening clothes. Surely we’ll go to the theater or a concert while we’re there. What will you wear then?”

“I’ll do what I always do. I’ll borrow them from Jack. He and I are the same size.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not serious! You haven’t seen Jack Devine in fifteen years! You can’t possibly be sure that you’re still the same size. And what will people think if you’re borrowing clothes?”

“Jack’ll think how smart I am not to spend a good deal of money on something I almost never use.”

Meg stood up in a huff. “You’re infuriating! Well, have it your own way. At least the children and I will look well dressed.”

She left the room, leaving her husband under the mistaken impression that he had won the last part of this ‘discussion’. In fact, the two hundred dollar figure she had quoted him included a new suit of clothes for her husband and they had already been ordered from Mr. Weston, the town’s tailor. She would bring the children to town tomorrow to be measured for their new outfits. Meg tackled the dishes well pleased with herself. She was still concerned about the evening clothes, but she’d deal with that at another time.

Three days later, Adam rode into the yard early, planning to have the midday meal with his family. He found Jesse in the barn, cleaning stalls in a most half-hearted manner. The boy hated this job and usually got it done as quickly as possible, but today he was dragging the pitchfork around and kicking at piles of hay and waste in a desultory manner.

“What’s up, Jess?” his father asked, and when the boy looked up Adam saw tears in his eyes. “Jesse, what’s the matter?” he asked as he led Sport to his stall.

“Pa, I don’t want to go to Boston.”

“Why not? I thought you were excited about it. You love ships. We’ll be able to see a lot of them there. Maybe even go onboard one. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Adam put his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder. Jesse wasn’t usually a child who cried. He was tough and feisty, with a temper like his Uncle Joe. His anger burned quick and hot, but dissipated almost as quickly as it came.

“Then what’s the problem? Why don’t you want to go?”

The little boy hung his head, the picture of abject dejection. “Mama said that the new suits she ordered me have short pants. She says I gotta wear short pants, Pa! Adam don’t gotta do it ‘cause he’s older. Mama told Mr. Weston to make me these two stupid suits and I gotta wear them ‘cause that’s what the boys in Boston wear. Well, I don’t wanna go now. I don’t wanna wear short pants like some baby or Boston sissy.”

“Short pants, huh?” Adam asked.

The boy nodded miserably. “And you oughta see the hats Adam and I gotta wear, Pa. They look like cow pats with a brim! And they got ribbons hanging down the back…ribbons!” He seemed to sense that he had his father’s sympathy and paused for dramatic effect. “But at least I don’t gotta wash my face with buttermilk,” he mumbled.

“What?” Adam stared at him incredulously.

“Yeah, Mama washes the girls’ faces and hands with buttermilk. She says we’re out in the sun so much that the girls look as brown as Indians. So they hafta wear their sunbonnets all the time and she washes them with buttermilk ‘cause she says it’ll make their skin lighter,” the boy informed his dumbfounded father.

Adam sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. This trip to Boston, which he had thought an excellent idea at the time he proposed it, was rapidly turning into a nightmare. Ben was unhappy with the timing. Hoss had just returned from Germany, and Joe was still on the mend with his broken leg when Adam told him that he wanted to take his family east for the fall.

“Five weeks!” Ben shouted. Who’s supposed to run this ranch? Joe won’t be good for much for another couple of weeks and Hoss just got back. Now you want to take off for five weeks! You know how busy fall is around here!”

Adam, as he so often did when he and Ben disagreed, counted slowly to ten. He let his father rant for a while. When Ben seemed to stop for a breath, Adam jumped in.

“Look, I know it’s not the best time. But I want Meg to be back there when the leaves turn. Fall was her favorite season. She’s been through a lot this year and the trip will do her good. I’m sorry that it’s five weeks, but when you think it’ll take a week each way for travel, that’ll leave barely three weeks to visit and sightsee. I’ll do what I can before I leave and Hoss is ready and willing to do what he can so we can go. By the time we get back, Joe will be doing his fair share again. I need to do this for Meg, Pa.”

That argument won the day, as Adam knew it would. Ben had a soft spot for each of his daughters-in-law, and he was especially solicitous of Meg right now. She was trying bravely to accept the death of their baby and move on. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright. Alright.”

“Thanks, Pa,” Adam said, smiling in relief. But that was only the first hurdle. Although his wife had been thrilled with his idea, she was unsure about taking the children out of school for such an extended period of time.

“Listen,” he argued, “we’ll take their books and slates and have them do lessons out and back. It’ll keep them busy so they don’t get too restless. And the trip itself will be an education.”

Because she so badly wanted to go, she was easily convinced. She threw herself into planning with enormous enthusiasm. But this, too, created problems.

Adam thought their children were well behaved. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. They had nice manners, were polite and thoughtful. He and Meg had worked hard to raise them this way. But they were still children. They had slip ups, made mistakes, had their share of tantrums and arguments. Still, they were better behaved than most of their contemporaries, in their father’s opinion. Suddenly Meg was drilling them in etiquette as if they had been raised by savages. She had a “proper” way to do just about everything. Mealtimes were especially torturous. One evening, after Beth had burst into tears at the supper table because she was sure she had used the wrong utensil, Adam took his wife aside for a little talk.

“This has got to stop.”

“What has to stop?”

“You’re upsetting the kids with all this etiquette business. Their manners aren’t that bad.”

“I just want to make sure they make a favorable impression,” was her huffy reply.

“Oh? Well maybe you think my manners need a little polishing, too.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen table. “We country bumpkins from out here in the sticks wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of all those city folk,” he said, his voice quiet but laced with sarcasm.

“Is that what you think? That I’m ashamed of my family because we’re from the west?” she demanded, hands on hips.

“It’s beginning to look that way. You’re turning what was supposed to be an exciting and entertaining family trip into something that the rest of us are beginning to dread. I know it’s not what you intended, but the kids are beginning to view Boston as some exotic, foreign, and scary place where people behave in strange and incomprehensible ways. You’re making them feel like outsiders before we’ve even left Nevada. So I’m just asking you to be a little less frantic about their manners. They’ll do us proud…you’ll see.”

She walked into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “I’ll ease off with the kids. I didn’t realize…” She sighed deeply. “When we have disagreements like this I feel like an outsider…you know…sort of alone. I hate that feeling.”

“Well, when we disagree I feel alone too,” he said, surprising her.

“You do?”

He hugged her tightly. “Mmm hmm. So let’s not disagree and then we’ll both feel better. What do you say?” he asked, smiling down at her.

She stood on tip-toe and kissed him. “We are in complete agreement,” she replied with a smile of her own.

And, true to her word, the etiquette lessons became very infrequent.

But now there was this clothing situation.

“Jesse, saddle up Diablo. You’re going to ride into town and tell Enoch Weston that those suits will have long pants.”

“Wow! Really, Pa? But Mama said…”

“I’ll take care of your mother. You just tell Mr. Weston that your Pa said no males in our house are wearing short pants. And no ribbons on the hats. I’ll be in town tomorrow to confirm everything. You just saddle up and get going.”

“But Pa, Adam told me I was never to ride…never even go near Diablo. He said he’d…”

“Jesse, I’m giving you permission to ride his horse. Now get him saddled.”

“Thanks, Pa!” And the boy almost fell over his own feet as he gathered Diablo’s tack. Adam watched to make sure things were done properly and was not disappointed.

Just before mounting, his son turned to him. “You want to check anything, Pa?”

“Nope. It looks like you did a fine job.” He ruffled Jesse’s hair. “Now get out of here.”

The boy hesitated a second. “Pa, do you need anything from town? Should I get you the newspaper or anything?”

Adam was pleased at this unusual thoughtfulness. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a nickel, and handed it to his son. “Here you go. Bring me today’s paper. And thanks for thinking about that.”

Jesse mounted his brother’s horse. “The paper’s a penny, right Pa? So I’ll bring you four cents change.”

Adam grabbed the little horse’s bridle before the boy could ride off.

“Seems your arithmetic is pretty good. Why not spend the four cents on candy? Buy a penny’s worth each for yourself and your brother and sisters. You know what kinds they like, don’t you?”

Jesse’s eyes opened wide.

“You mean I get to spend the whole four cents on candy?”

“That’s what I mean. Just make sure you bring back things that everyone likes.”

“Oh I will, Pa.”

Adam kept hold of the bridle. “And one more thing, Jess. When we get back from Boston, why don’t you and I start to look for a horse of your own? I think you’re old enough to handle that, don’t you?”

Jesse was so overcome with joy that words failed him. All he could do was nod enthusiastically. His expression made Adam laugh out loud. He let go of the bridle and gave the horse’s rump a slap.

“You’d better get going.” And as the boy raced off he yelled, “Be careful! Don’t fall off.” But Jesse’s head was so full of images of long pants, candy, and a horse of his own that he never heard the warning.

The day before they were to leave, Ben stopped by the house. The family had finished dinner and Meg hurried to get her father-in-law a cup of coffee. He smiled his appreciation as she set the cup in front of him, then stood behind her husband, hands on his shoulders.

“I have some good news. At least I think it’s good news. You know my old friend Charlie Crocker?”

“You mean the president of the Union Pacific?” Adam asked, putting his cup down.

“Yes, that’s who I mean. Well, we got together last week. The Ponderosa’s got a new contract with the railroad for some bridge trusses. Anyway, I told him about your little jaunt and he offered you the use of his private car from San Francisco to Boston. He thinks you’re crazy to be hauling four kids across the country, so he thought a private car might make things a little easier. I didn’t say anything before this because he had to set things up.”

Meg’s eyes lit up like lamps and she clapped her hands together in glee. “A private car! Oh! That will make things easier. What a wonderful thing for him to do! You must give me his address so I can write and thank him.”

Ben held up his hand. “Wait, there’s more. He’s sending his man Swanson along to lend a hand.”

“His ‘man’?” Adam asked, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“His personal servant. I’ve met him. He’s British…what they call a gentleman’s gentleman.”

“Like a butler?” Meg asked, intrigued.

“Well, I suppose so. We’ve never been much on ‘servants’. Hop Sing is more like one of the family. But Charlie’s wealthy and there are all kinds of servants in his household. Swanson will be there to smooth the way for you…take care of what needs taking care of. Then you can just enjoy the ride.”

“When you see him, Pa, tell him how much we appreciate this. We’ll write a formal thank you, but you be sure to let him know just how much this means to us.”

“I will, son. Of course you’re on your own till San Francisco,” Ben chuckled.

The planning that Meg and Adam had done prior to the trip paid off. A combination of excitement over seeing and experiencing new things, plus a rather regimented daily routine, kept the four youngsters from being bored or too restless on the trip east. They quickly adjusted to the rhythm of the train’s motion and could move about the car with ease. They were too young to appreciate the beauty of its expensive appointments…polished walnut paneling, rich velvet upholstery, heavy brocade curtains, and shiny brass fixtures. But they were intrigued by the small sink, complete with cold water faucet, located at one end of the car. Here they could wash up or get a drink whenever they wanted. The other end of the car was divided into two small sleeping quarters. Meg and Adam shared one, the girls the other, and the boys slept on the sofas in the sitting room section.

“Just like camping out!” Jesse said, excitedly.

“Hardly anything at all like camping out,” his father contradicted. “That sofa is probably softer than your regular bed at home.”

The rhythmic motion of the train rocked the children to sleep at night, and, with no chores to do, their parents allowed them to sleep late in the mornings. Then there was breakfast, school lessons to be done, lunch, more lessons, and some free time. Of course, there were always fascinating things to see out the windows as the train seemed to fly toward its next destination. At every stop, Adam took his children off the train to use up some of their pent-up energy. On a few occasions they all left the train as their special car was uncoupled and then joined with another train from a different line. As they traveled farther and farther east, the buildings changed from wood to stone to brick and grew increasingly tall.

“Does Boston have that many buildings, Pa?” Annie asked as they left St. Louis.

“It has many more than that, sweetie. Boston is an old city and it was settled many years ago. Your mother and I haven’t been back in more than fifteen years, so it’s probably even more built up than we remember,” he answered her, chuckling at her look of wide eyed disbelief.

Swanson was a treasure, Meg decided. He knew when to be there to help and when to make himself scarce. He had meals prepared and served on time. Any difficulties that cropped up seemed to melt away when he was notified. The children adored him and he kept them amused for hours with tales of his adventures working for various people. He had traveled extensively and described in vivid detail the many wondrous things he had seen.

“Pa, he calls Jesse and Adam ‘Master’. Does that mean he’s a slave? I thought there weren’t any more slaves,” Annie asked Adam soon after the children had been introduced to the ‘gentleman’s gentleman’.

“No, he’s not a slave. You’re right. There isn’t any more slavery in this country. He calls them that because that’s the form of address he’s used to using with Mr. Crocker’s family. He calls you and Beth ‘Miss” and your brothers ‘Master’. It’s just a polite way of talking to you…you know, like when you address grownups as Mister or Missus. It’s like that. Understand?”

She nodded. “Pa, can we keep him?”

Her father laughed and pulled gently on her pigtail. “No, Bright Eyes. We can’t ‘keep’ him. He works for Mr. Crocker and he’s just along to help make the trip easier for your mother and me.”

Even Adam had to admit that Swanson made the long journey much more pleasant. One day the children were particularly antsy. A pouring rain had made it impossible for them to get off the train and get some exercise at the last stop. They were traveling over the prairies of the Midwest and there was little to see. Swanson disappeared for a few minutes, then returned and discreetly cleared his throat. Adam looked up.

“Mr. Cartwright, the engineer was wondering if you and Master Adam and Master Jesse might like to walk up front and see how the engine works.”

With a shout the boys jumped up from their seats and their eyes flew anxiously to their father.

“This man’s a godsend,” Adam thought.

“I think that’s a fine idea, Swanson,” he said, rising from the comfortable chair where he had been reading.

“Adam, do you think it’s safe?” Meg asked, her face wearing a worried expression.

“I’ll watch out for them. Don’t worry. Let’s go, boys.”

Before they could leave, he felt a tug on his coat. He looked down into Annie’s crestfallen face.

“Pa, can I go too? I’ll be good…honest! I wanna see the engine too.”

Adam hesitated. “I don’t know, sweetie. You weren’t asked and it’s bound to be noisy, hot and dirty up there.”

Her little face took on an even more disappointed expression.

Swanson again cleared his throat. “If I may, sir. I believe it would be alright as long as you held tightly to her hand…that is if it is acceptable to you that she should come along.”

“Well then, I guess you can come,” Adam said, taking his daughter’s hand. He turned to Beth, seated next to her mother on one of the velvet couches. “What about you, Beth? Would you like to come too?”

“No thank you, Pa. Mama and I are reading Little Women. I’d rather stay here.”

The visit to the engine was a huge success. Adam was correct. The noise was tremendous and the heat intense. The engineer and the fireman took a shine to the children and cheerfully answered their many questions. The boys were enthralled with its workings, but Annie was strangely silent.

“Are you scared?” Adam asked her as she held tightly to his hand.

“I’m not scared of anything,” she responded, but then added with a little tremor in her voice, “Pa, can you pick me up?”

He smiled at her bravado and lifted her into his arms, where she clung tightly to his neck. Just before they left, the engineer asked Jesse and Adam if they’d like to blow the whistle. They responded with the enthusiasm one would expect from a ten and twelve year old. Annie let go of her father’s neck just long enough to protect her ears from the noisy blasts.

“I’m not sure how we’re going to manage without you in Boston, Swanson,” Adam said to the man later.

“Oh, I’m sure you will do quite well. If I may say so, sir, your children are exceptionally well behaved. It’s been a pleasure to have met all of you and to have been of some small service.”

“I’d try and steal you away from Charlie, but I’m not sure how you’d enjoy life on a ranch.”

The other man chuckled. “That’s kind of you Mr. Cartwright, but I’m very content working for Mr. Crocker. My tasks are many and varied, and, in the case of assisting your family this past week, often quite pleasurable. And now, as to tomorrow, I’ve arranged for the luggage to be sent directly to the hotel. There will be a carriage waiting to take you and the family there. I shall help Mrs. Cartwright with the final packing in the morning. Breakfast will be served on board, but you will be off the train before dinner. And, as things might be a bit rushed in the morning, may I take this opportunity to again state that it has been a pleasure to have been of some small assistance to you. I hope you have a wonderful time in Boston. It’s a lovely and exciting city. I’m sure the children will enjoy their visit tremendously. Now if you’ll excuse me there are some things I must attend to.”

And with a brief nod, Swanson turned and hurried off. It would have been out of character for him to shake hands, Adam decided. He still maintained the British distinction between the classes.

The young family had been offered accommodations in the home of every single friend they knew in the city, but Adam decided that a hotel suite would be the best place to stay. A restaurant was conveniently located off the lobby and when they were tired from visiting or sight seeing, their rooms were a place where they could all relax in a more natural fashion than had they been guests in someone else’s home.

The hotel itself was a source of wonder to the children. They were staying in one of the newest in the city and their suite was located on the sixth floor. Adam had explained that there was an elevator, which would take them to this lofty height, but they had difficulty imagining a little room that moved up and down.

“Are you sure that thing is safe?” Meg asked anxiously, as they waited for the car to descend to the lobby.

“Perfectly safe,” Adam answered with amusement.

“But it’s held up by a cable, you said?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“What if the cable breaks?” she whispered, her eyes wide.

“This fellow named Otis invented a brake system. He demonstrated it himself, allowing the cable to be cut while he was inside. The car can’t fall. Anyway, do you think I’d allow you to do anything that I thought was dangerous?”

“Noooooo,” she drew the word out. “But I think someone should test this one out first. The children and I will wait here.” The elevator car had arrived with a smooth and silent stop. The operator reached for the handle to slide open the metal gate.

Adam laughed and gave her a quick squeeze. “How’s this? I’ll go up with the luggage and if I return safely, the rest of you can try it out.”

“Well, I’d rather someone else take the luggage up first…just in case.”

“No, I’ll do it. Meg, these elevators have been used here and in other big cities for over fifteen years. There’s nothing to worry about,” he added as the car door opened. He grabbed a couple of bags and stepped in as his wife held the children back and watched, fingers over her lips. The door closed and the car began to move. Within a few minutes he was back and by now the four little Cartwrights were clamoring to take a “ride”. Adam offered his arm to Meg, who swallowed, paled, and stepped inside beside him. The children and the rest of the luggage were loaded on as well.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Adam asked as they got off the elevator and followed the bellboy to their rooms.

“I suppose not,” she answered shakily. “I imagine I can get used to it in time. It just seems so impossible that it can work and work safely.”

“We’re living in modern times, sweetheart. There are new inventions coming along all the time. It’s exciting.”

Meg smiled at his remark. He would find all these newfangled inventions exciting. She knew he was always searching for ways to modernize the way things were done on the ranch. He read about every up-and-coming development in any newspaper or magazine he could lay his hands on. She knew it frustrated him sometimes that he couldn’t put his education to better use, but Ben wasn’t one to hastily change things and neither Joe nor Hoss had the knowledge to tell the difference between a hair-brained scheme and a genuine modern improvement.

Meg knew he had planned this trip expressly for her. Since the baby’s death he had done everything possible to help her recover. Time was helping, and this trip was a fabulous distraction. But Adam had lost a child as well, and Meg was happy that he would reap some benefits from their excursion east. In Boston he could purchase the most up to date engineering and architectural magazines. Just walking around the city streets and visiting with their friends would put him in contact with new and modern conveniences not to be found in Virginia City. And while they were here she would try to think of something special for him…something that he could see, learn, or do, that would repay him, in a very small way, for all that he had done for her.

Their suite was large and lovely. The main room had a bed at one end, a table and chairs under the window, and a plush sofa at the other end. There was a large wardrobe for their clothes. Two doors were on the remaining wall. One opened into a second bedroom with two double beds, and, the second was a complete bathroom. Neither Meg nor the children had seen such a bathroom before, though Adam had on his last trip to San Francisco. Beside the ceramic sink, there was a claw foot ceramic tub, and a flush toilet. Adam could hardly answer their excited questions fast enough.

“Where does the water come from Pa?”

“It’s pumped up to tanks on the roof.”

“Is the hot water on the roof too?”

“No. See this metal thing behind the tub? It’s a hot water heater. You light it with a match, wait a bit, and it heats the water.”

“What’s this thing, Pa? It looks like a sink, but I don’t see any faucets. There’s water in it. And what’s that thing hanging on the wall?”

“That’s what they call a toilet or water closet. You use it instead of an outhouse or chamber pot.”

“But how do you empty it, Pa? It looks awful heavy and it don’t have no handles.”

“Any handles,” was the automatic reply. “You don’t have to empty it. It empties itself. You pull that handle and water from the tank on the wall flushes everything away.” Adam walked over to the fixture. “Watch.” He pulled the handle attached to the chain that ran up to the water tank. His family stared in amazement as more water rushed into the bowl, swirled around quickly, and drained away. Following a brief, stunned silence, the questions resumed, fast and furious.

“Where does the water go?”

“Can you do that again?’

“What happens when there’s no more water in the tank?”

“How come the tank doesn’t overflow?”

And finally from his wife, “Are these things very expensive? Do you think we could get one?”

The children could have spent hours at the window looking down onto the street below.

“Oh Mama, the people look so small!” Beth exclaimed. “Even the horse and carriages look little. And oh! Lookey! There’s a man down there doing something funny to that post. Oh! It’s not a post! Oh, Pa, come look! He lit a lamp or something. Did you ever see such a thing? There’s a big lamp right on the corner and he lit it. And now he’s walking to the other corner and he’s lighting another one. Why do they do that Mama? Why do they light up the outside like that?”

Meg walked over and laid a hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder.

“He’s the lamp lighter, Beth. It’s his job to light many street lamps when it begins to get dark. They stay lit all night and then he extinguishes them at dawn. They do that so that people can see when they’re out in the city at night.”

“But why would you want to be out at night? Shouldn’t you be home with your family when it gets dark?”

“Well, yes. Many people are. But sometimes people go to the theater or a concert or a ball and they get home quite late. And some people like to go for a walk after their dinner. And speaking of dinner, we should be getting ready for ours. Wash up and we’ll go down to the restaurant.”

Beth skipped off, but as she passed her father she asked, “Pa, if we’re good, you think we could go for a walk after dinner?”

Adam gave her brow a quick kiss. “I think we can do that, sweetie. Now go get ready.”

The days seemed to fly by. Each one was crammed with new sights, new sounds, and new experiences. It became quickly apparent to Adam and Meg that they would not be doing everything as a family. The boys had no desire to ride in the swan boats in the recently completed public gardens, and one puppet show in Boston Commons was enough for them. The girls were less than enthusiastic about going aboard a ship. So sometimes Meg and Adam went about the city separately, doing and seeing those things which appealed to their children. But they always met back at the hotel for dinner.

Adam had spent the first full day in the city catching up with his old college friends Jack Devine and Dave Hammond. He knew Meg had intended to take the children into the commercial area of the city and do some shopping. He expected them to be awed by the number and variety of shops that a large city had. They were used to the two general stores in Virginia City. When he opened the hotel room door, Annie looked up and launched herself in his direction. She was immediately followed by the other three, who bounced around him like so many jumping beans, tugging on his jacket, and speaking more and more loudly as they vied for his attention.

“Pa! Pa! You’ll never guess what!”

“The stores here don’t have lotsa stuff like back home. They only got one thing sometimes!”

“There’s stores that have just books!”

“And stores that have just hats!”

“Pa, there’s stores that have just toys! Lots of toys! They even have toy guns!”

“Yeah, isn’t that stupid, Pa? Why would you want a toy gun when you can have a real shotgun back home?”

“And they have hobby horses!”

“That’s silly too, isn’t it, Pa? We got real horses back on the Ponderosa.”

“And the most beautiful dolls!”

“And they don’t spell words the same in Boston. Sometimes they spell shop s…h…o…p…p…e. But Mama says you pronounce it shop just like we do in Virginia City.” Annie was almost shouting now as she danced around at her father’s feet.

“And guess what, Pa? Mama took us to the affectionary shop. And guess what they sell there? Candy! Lots and lots of different kinds of candy. They had chocolate men and peppermint sticks, and lemon drops, and Necco wafers, and candy that went just like this.” She made sweeping “S” shapes in the air with her little finger. “And it was all different colors and looked just like ribbon. Know what they called it, Pa?” The volume of her comments increased again. “Ribbon candy! Cause it looks like ribbon but you can eat it. And Mama let us buy some.”

Adam tossed his hat on the bed, picked up his younger daughter, and held his free hand up for silence. The little tribe quieted for a moment. He looked at Meg and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “The affectionary shop?”

“She means the confectionary shop. We stopped there just before we came back here.”

Adam nodded in understanding. “And just how much candy did you let them buy?”

His wife looked a bit sheepish and just shrugged.

“Meg, they’ll all be dyspeptic if you let them have too much of that stuff. And look at how agitated they all are. They can barely stay still.”

“I know. I know. But it was their first day and they were so excited that I just couldn’t refuse. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Adam set Annie down and rubbed his hands together. “Well, what about dinner?”

Four little faces looked at him in surprise.

“I’m not very hungry Pa.”

“Me neither.”

“Me neither.”

“Me neither, too.”

Adam rolled his eyes heavenward in frustration. “Great. Am I going to have to eat alone tonight?”

“Of course not. I’ll go down with you. We can leave the children here. This was my fault. There’s no reason why you should have to suffer,” Meg answered.

But her husband couldn’t respond because he was busy preventing a potential tragedy. His hand shot out to grab a tiny pink parasol that Annie had grasped with both fists and raised high above her. She was about to bring it down with full force on Jesse’s head when her father snatched it away.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“He said I ain’t a lady!” she declared indignantly. “Mama got me a parasol ‘cause ladies have parasols. So I am so a lady!” Her voice was loud and shrill and her father’s response disappointing.

“He’s right. You’re no lady. Ladies don’t use their parasols to beat up their brothers. And you knock that off!” The last remark was for Jesse who, delighted to be proved right by his father, was busy sticking his tongue out at his little sister. Adam turned an accusing eye on Meg.

“Too much candy! That’s what this is all about,” he said pointing back and forth between the two children. I hope this isn’t an indication of how the next few weeks are going to be,” he added, somewhat grumpily, as he went to get ready for dinner.

Adam needn’t have worried. Each day held its own charms and surprises. They visited Harvard and Miss Collier’s School, where Meg had taught as a young woman. They stopped by Meg’s old home. She had given it to Miss Collier’s School and it was used to house some of the unmarried female staff. They made a trip to the ship’s chandlery that Ben and his father-in-law Abel had run prior to the death of Adam’s mother Elizabeth. They solemnly paid their respects at the graves of those relatives that had passed away. They rented a carriage and drove out into the countryside to admire the beautiful fall foliage. And they made an appointment at a photography studio and had a family portrait made.

At night, when the children were asleep, they reminisced, discussed the changes that had taken place over the years, and chatted about their children’s reactions to everything.

“My old house seems smaller than I remember,” Meg remarked as she sat mending a small rip in one of the girl’s dresses.

“Well, Harvard is a lot bigger than I remember,” her husband answered from behind his newspaper.

“Did you see Adam’s eyes when we were in the main library there? And I’m not sure he believed you when you told him it was only one of several libraries on the campus.”

Adam chuckled. “He was definitely impressed. He asked me if I thought he was a good enough student to go there some day.”

“He did?” Meg’s face lit up.

“I thought that would please you. I know that you’ve always hoped he’d do something more with his life than ranching,” he said, lowering the newspaper.

“That’s not true!” Meg protested. “I want him to do whatever will make him happy. If that’s ranching, then I’ll be satisfied. But he’s smart and he should know that he has the opportunity to make some choices about his life.” She was silent for a few seconds and then exclaimed, “Oh Adam! If he should decide to go to Harvard and if he’s accepted, it’ll mean he has to leave home!”

“That’s right.”

He watched in amusement as her face fell. She looked so distressed at the prospect that he took pity on her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’s only twelve. Even if he decides to go to college, it’ll be years before he actually has to go. And he may decide not to go at all.”

“I don’t know,” she muttered as she bent over her sewing. “He’s just like you. If he decides he wants to go, nothing in the world will change his mind. Stubborn. Just like you.”

Judiciously, her husband declined to respond. He knew he could be stubborn. He found it funny that his wife couldn’t recognize the same trait in her own personality. He decided to change the subject. “Did Beth mention the doll again?”

Their older daughter had seen a beautiful doll in one of the shops that they frequently passed. It was a German import, with a real hair wig done up in long brown ringlets. Its dark eyes opened and closed. Its cheeks were tinted a delicate pink and two pearly teeth showed between its parted lips. The doll’s dress was lavender silk and it had ruffled pantaloons, real leather shoes, and a frilly lace bonnet. Beth had instantly fallen in love with it. The price was three dollars, a sum so large to her that she knew she could never hope to have that doll. But she commented on it every time she saw it.

“Yes, she mentioned it when we passed the shop today. She saw that it was gone and her face just fell. But she only said, “Mama, I hope the lucky girl who gets that doll gives it a good home, don’t you?” And I said, “I’m sure such a special doll went to a very special girl, Beth.” Adam and Meg looked at each other and laughed, knowing that the doll was already packed away for the trip back to Nevada. “I can’t wait to see her face on Christmas morning when she finds out just who the ‘lucky girl’ really is!” Meg exclaimed with delight.

They spent a great deal of time visiting their friends. The Devines and the Hammonds had children who were comparable in age to the Cartwrights and everyone seemed to get along quite well. Young Adam took particular pleasure in clearing up some misconceptions the city children had about life in Nevada.

“Pa, I finally told Jackie Devine that there wasn’t any such thing as a ‘red Indian’. I told him that the Indians’ skin color was really more brown and maybe he ought to start telling people around here about that. And they all think that the Indians are wild. They could hardly believe me when I said we had Indians who worked the ranch. And you know what else, Pa?” he continued solemnly, “They can’t believe that we have a nice house. They think we live in some little log cabin or something. So I just went ahead and told him to come on out and see what a nice house we have…and Uncle Hoss and Uncle Joe, and Grandpa too!”

“Well, guests are always welcome on the Ponderosa, Adam. Don’t be too hard on your new friends. The people who write about life out west sometimes tend to exaggerate things. Jackie is probably only repeating what he’s read.”

Even attending church held surprises for the little Cartwrights. Their parents took them to the church that Meg had attended when she lived in Boston. It wasn’t really large by city standards, but greatly impressed the children, who were used to the small clapboard structure where they worshipped in Virginia City. Even fidgety Jesse was unusually well behaved during the services, gazing in wonder at the colorful stained glass windows which depicted various Bible stories. They were awed by the large pipe organ, the polished mahogany pews, and the more ornate robes of the clergy.

“Oh Pa!” Beth whispered, as they exited the building after their first visit. “I just know God is in there.”

“Why do you say that, Sunshine?”

“It’s so beautiful. God would just have to be in a place that beautiful, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure God is in there, Beth. But we believe that God is everywhere…even in our little church back home. He’s in everyone’s heart, sweetie, and whenever a few Godly men and woman gather together, God will be there. You know the verse.”

She nodded. “For wherever two or three are gathered together in my name, there will I be also,” she quoted St. Matthew.

“That’s right,” her father approved. “It’s not the beauty of the church that determines where God is, Beth, although we can appreciate all those wonderful things. It’s what’s in our hearts and how we act. We ourselves can be the place where God lives. Understand?”

“Yes, Pa,” she answered, taking his hand. “But I still think that God would enjoy being in that church!”

“Oh Adam, wasn’t that Governor’s Ball just wonderful?” Meg sighed happily as they rode back to the hotel from the gala event they had just attended. The annual Ball was one of the highlights of the Boston season. Jack Devine, currently a nominee for a state senate seat, had obtained a pair of tickets for his friends.

“C’mon, Adam. I’m not crazy about all this society stuff either, but there’ll be a lot of important people there…people that I’d like you to meet,” Jack had urged when Adam seemed reluctant to accept. “And Dave and Nancy will be there too. You know how he’s always sniffing around for investments for the bank. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to meet some influential people…maybe scare up some business for the Ponderosa. I’m telling you, friend, there’s more business than dancing going on at these affairs… and,” he added when he saw that Adam was still unconvinced, “don’t you think Meg would just love it?” That last argument settled the case, as Jack thought it would. All of their friends were aware of the Cartwright’s recent loss and Adam’s efforts to help his wife fight her depression. The offer was accepted along with babysitting services from one of the Devine’s maids.

“All the gowns, and the beautiful music, the food, the dancing!” Meg chattered on, “it was so…so…spectacular! I never imagined I would attend such an event.”

“So you had a good time?”

“Of course! Didn’t you?”

“Sure. It’s not the type of evening we’d be spending in Virginia City.”

“No it’s not! It was all so glorious! There was only one tiny thing that spoiled it a bit for me,” Meg answered with a little smile. “Well, not exactly spoiled it,” she hastily corrected herself. “just annoyed me somewhat.”

“Oh?” he asked in surprise. “What was that?”

She slapped him lightly on the arm. “It was the fact that you could borrow one of Jack’s set of evening clothes and look like they were made expressly for you!”

He laughed and hugged her to him in the confines of the elegant coach. “Did I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman there tonight?” he whispered in her ear.

“Twice,” she whispered back and kissed him tenderly. “Thank you for allowing me to spend an outrageous amount of money on this gown,” she added, smoothing the black silk lovingly. “I wish I could be sure I’d have an occasion to use it again.”

“You will. I have something special planned for the end of this vacation.”

“Oh Adam! I wasn’t hinting! Truly!” she protested. “Everything we’ve done has been just wonderful. I’d be perfectly satisfied if we just walked around the city for the next two weeks!”

“I know you would. But I think you’ll like this and the arrangements are already made.”

“Well, I have a surprise for you too,” she answered, snuggling closer. It was autumn in New England and the nights were becoming deliciously cool. “And I can’t wait to let you know what it is.”

He kissed her temple. “Then tell me now.”

“No. I have something for you back in the hotel room. I’ll tell you about it then.”

“So my surprise is waiting back at the room?” He chuckled and blew in her ear. “I like the sound of that,” he murmured seductively.

“You rogue!” she giggled. “That isn’t what the surprise is, but if the kids are asleep…” And she left her sentence unfinished as she kissed him again.

The maid had been sent home in the carriage. Meg was in her dressing gown and Adam was slipping into his nightshirt. She approached him, hands behind her back, her dark eyes twinkling with happiness at the surprise she was about to spring on him.

He turned and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Well, you look like the cat that got the canary. What’ve you got up your sleeve?”

“It’s not up my sleeve. It’s behind my back,” she teased, then handed him a fat envelope.

He took it and turned it over.

“The surprise is inside, silly! Open it!”

He carefully unsealed the envelope, removed the contents, and examined them.

“Train tickets?”

She nodded.

“To New York City?”

Her head bobbed again, her face one large smile. “And hotel reservations for two nights there, too.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Then let me explain,” she exclaimed excitedly. “I got you tickets to New York City and hotel reservations so you and the boys can go and see the Brooklyn bridge!”

Now both eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m perfectly serious. I know that you’ve been following the progress of the bridge’s design and construction. You’ve read every article you can get your hands on. I’m not interested in such things, but even I know that it’s considered to be a modern marvel. And I thought you’d like to see it. We’ll never be closer to New York than we are now, and Dave assures me that the train ride down is only several hours long. He helped me get the tickets and everything…Dave, I mean,” she added unnecessarily.

“But I couldn’t leave you here on your own for three days.”

“Mercy me, why not? I’m not a baby. The girls and I will be fine.” She put her fingers to her lips as if she had just remembered something important. Her brow wrinkled slightly. “Of course, we’ve been invited to high tea with Miss Collier on one of those days. Perhaps you and the boys wouldn’t want to miss an event like that…”

He laughed out loud. “Let’s see…see one of the wonders of the modern world or have high tea with your former employer…hmm, it’s a tough decision to make.”

She joined in his laughter, so very pleased that she had given him a gift that he obviously appreciated. “Come here,” she invited, patting the side of the bed where she had seated herself.

“I want to tell you why I got you these tickets,” she began, as he dropped down next to her. She looked down into her lap for a second, then raised her eyes to his. Her expression was suddenly serious. She took one of his hands in her own.

“I know why you planned this trip. I know you wanted to do something to cheer me up and…and distract me after the baby died. You are the most unselfish person I know, Adam, and the best husband. And I’m enjoying…no…loving every minute of our stay here. I’m so grateful for your thoughtfulness. So I wanted to do something for you…give you something that would make this trip special for you…give you some wonderful memories of your own. And I thought this would be appropriate.” She cocked her head, waiting for his reply.

He put down the envelope and took both her hands in his. His expression was loving and tender. “You’re right about the trip, of course. But you’re wrong about me being unselfish. When it comes to you and your happiness, I’m unbelievably selfish. I can’t be really happy unless you are, so this was as much for me…maybe more…as it was for you. And as for seeing the Brooklyn Bridge…well, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do. It’s a perfect gift. Thank you,” he added simply. He leaned down and kissed her, then cleared his throat. There was a playful expression in his eyes. “I believe in the carriage you said that if the kids were asleep…”

She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You have a memory like an elephant,” she teased, pulling until he was lying halfway across her body.

“For some things,” he agreed, as he let the envelope slip to the floor.

“A selective memory?” she murmured, as he began to kiss her neck.

“Oh I’m incredibly selective. I selected you, didn’t I?”

“Then you have good taste, as well,” she whispered back, her hands groping to unbutton his nightshirt.

“Good taste? I don’t know about that. But I know you taste good,” he replied, nibbling gently behind her ear as he reached for the buttons of her nightgown.

Their words became less and less intelligible, until the only sounds in the room were sibilant sighs and soft moans of satisfaction, as they loved each other into the night.

The trip was an unmitigated success. Meg’s three men arrived back in Boston, their conversation peppered with terms like ‘caisson’, and ‘anchorage’, and ‘spans’. She listened politely while they tried to explain the wonderful things they had seen. What delighted her most was the knowledge that they had enjoyed themselves so much and that she had given her generous husband a gift he truly appreciated.

“They say it’ll take three years or more to finish it, Meg,” Adam commented as he began to unpack his luggage. “But you should see it! It’s incredible. And they’ve managed to make it not only practical, but beautiful too.”

“It’s gonna be so strong that trains can cross the East River on it, Ma,” young Adam enthused. “You know how far across it is? 1,595 feet across the water, Ma! Just think about that. And the road bed is gonna be 135 feet above the water. There’s footbridge there now that some people can walk across.”

Meg’s eyes shot over to her husband. “You didn’t let them…?”

“No, of course not. They wanted to walk to the middle, but I wouldn’t allow it.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. Thinking of her children suspended more than 130 feet above the East River made her queasy. But she should have known that Adam wouldn’t permit such a thing, no matter how hard they begged.

“Yeah, Pa wouldn’t let us go with him,” chimed in Jesse.

Meg stared at him gape-jawed.

He returned her glance, his face showing only mild amusement, as he walked past her to deposit some shirts in a bureau drawer. “Well, you said you wanted me to have some great memories, didn’t you?”

Their visit back to Boston wouldn’t have been complete without a few visits with the Bonelli family. The restaurant had expanded twice since Meg had taken the trip west to Nevada. Now the Bonellis owed the entire building. Tony, Angelina, and Mickey, their youngest, lived above the restaurant. All of their other children were married and had made the Italian couple grandparents many times over. But some things hadn’t changed. Tony still closed the restaurant on Sundays and as many of his brood as possible gathered there for food, family stories, and fun. The Cartwrights had been invited to join them on the first Sunday they were in Boston.

It was mayhem. They were greeted like long lost relatives. Everyone talked at once. It was almost impossible to recognize the Bonelli children, the passage of time having changed them all so much, and Meg despaired of ever learning the names of all the new spouses and babies. The oldest grandchildren were the same ages as her youngest three and they were all soon chatting away like old friends.

Angelina could hardly make fuss enough over the young Cartwrights. “Ah! Margheritta ! Such beautiful bambinos! Each one is so pretty. But whadda do you expect? You are so beautiful yourself…and your husband…such a good looking-a man! Of course your babies will be pretty!” She hugged each child to her ample bosom and pinched their cheeks affectionately. “And look-a at you, Margheritta! This Adam of yours, he keeps-a you happy, no?”

“He keeps me very happy, Angelina.”

“But sure! I can see this in your eyes. I tell you a little secret, Margheritta. I always-a knew that this was the man for you.” She saw the look of amused disbelief on Meg’s face.

“Oh, I know you don’t-a believe this, but it’s true. When all of you eat with us…that night we have the go away party…I watch how he looks at you. And I know. I pray to the Blessed Mother that you can see this too. But then he goes! I think to myself, ‘Mama mia, what’s wrong with that girl?’ But I keep praying. And the Blessed Mother hears the prayers and you get married and have the bambinos! Itsa make me so happy!”

“Well, it’s made me very happy too, Angelina. Thanks for your prayers. I can always use them.”

“I know, my friend. I know about the little one who died.” Angelina watched a shadow descend on Meg’s features. She reached over and squeezed the younger woman’s hand. Her voice softened. “I had-a two babies who die, Margheritta. I know about this. We will talk about it sometime before you go back to the West.” Angelina smiled and the solemn moment passed. “But not today! Today is a day for happiness and for talk, and for some food!” She whirled around and began to shout, “Hey! Anthony, Maria, Gina…you come help me in the kitchen. “You too, Joseph!” And she bustled away.

After the seemingly endless meal, the children went outside to explore the neighborhood with their new friends. Meg and the women began to clean up the remains of the feast, and Tony pulled Adam aside for another glass of wine.

“You remember the last time we sit like this, Adam?” asked the rotund host.

“Yes, I do. It doesn’t seem possible that it was fifteen years ago, Tony. Sometimes I don’t know where the years have gone.”

“Well, they say that the time goes fast when you are-a happy. And I think you are-a happy, no?”

“I’m very happy,” Adam said, smiling at the man sitting across from him.

“Atsa good! Yes, very good! But anyone with two eyes can see that.” Tony took another sip from his glass.

“But there was a time…I tell you my friend. My wife, Angelina. Sometimes I call her a witch. She sees things…she knows things. All the time you are here so long ago, she say to me, “Tony, that Adam Cartwright is the man for our Margheritta.” And I say to her, ‘Angelina, you stay out of this. Only God can know these things.’” He shook his head as he remembered those conversations. “But she makes the novenas and prays every day to the Blessed Virgin. When you leave…well, Angelina is not happy. But she prays more and more. Then Margheritta’s aunt dies. Adam, I tell you, this was a very bad time for Margheritta. She no eat. She look sad all the time. We don’t know what to do.”

“I know Tony. She told me about it. One of the things I regret most in my life is that I didn’t come back here then to…to be with her. I should have. We knew what our feelings were when I left with Carrie.”

“Well, I won’t-a argue with you about that. But, heh! Everything turn out good in-a the end, right?” And Tony lifted his glass to Adam in salute.

“Everything turned out good in the end,” Adam agreed, returning the salute with his glass.

The casual, cordial atmosphere of the large Italian family made the Cartwrights feel very comfortable. It seemed somehow familiar.

“You know, Pa, it’s almost like being at home with all our cousins, ‘cept Tony and Angelina talk with accents,” was young Adam’s astute observation to his father as they rode back to the hotel that night.

“And I like their food! I specially like that bisgetti,” added Annie, the fussy eater in the family.

“Spaghetti, Annie,” her mother gently corrected. “Yes, Italian food is very good and Angelina is a wonderful cook. That’s why their restaurant has been so successful.”

“Why wouldn’t you let us have wine, Mama? Tony says all their kids drank wine when they were little,” Jesse demanded.

“Well, that may be. But we’re not Italian and you won’t be drinking alcohol till you’re an adult,” came the disappointing reply.

“Can we go there again, sometime, Pa?”

“Yes. We’ve been invited back. I’m sure we’ll be seeing the Bonellis a few more times before we leave.”

One day seemed to melt into another. Adam and Meg tried to include educational, as well as recreational, events for the children. They were taken to plays and libraries. They visited the numerous historic sites that the city had to offer. They borrowed velocipedes from the Devine children and learned how to ride them. Each day was packed with activity. Almost before they realized it, their vacation drew to a close. With only a few days left, Adam informed Meg about the special evening he had planned for the two of them.

“Listen, we’ve been dragging the kids all around the city, and when we weren’t doing that, we were visiting with every friend we’ve ever known here. I wanted a night that just you and I would share. Tomorrow night you and I are going out alone and have a good time.”

“But, Adam, we can’t leave the children here by themselves.”

“We won’t. They’re going to Bonelli's for supper and spending the night. And before you start objecting, Tony and Angelina were thrilled. It’s all set.”

“Well, alright. But where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said with a smile. “But I know you’ll enjoy it and you’ll get to where that black gown again.”

“Sounds like fun!” she said happily.

“It will be. I’ll dress and drive the kids to the restaurant. That way you’ll have time to get ready.”

“You’ve thought of everything!”

“I try,” was his modest reply.

“How on earth did you get ticket to this concert? It’s by subscription and it’s been sold out for months, Jane Devine told me so.”

“I have my contacts,” Adam answered with a superior smile.

“All Mozart! My favorite composer! And this Viennese orchestra! This is better than the Governor’s Ball,” Meg whispered as they took their seats in the private box that had cost her husband a small fortune.

They both loved the works of Mozart and the evening’s program was filled with a symphony performed by the entire orchestra, as well as a few piano concertos, and some other compositions. At one point, Adam glanced down at his wife. Her face was suffused with joy, her eyes sparkling, as her toe tapped to the particularly gay piece that was being performed at the moment. Adam was content. Every petty annoyance, every aggravating detail, every dollar he had spent on this trip was worth the look of unadulterated happiness he saw. She glanced up and him, giving him a dazzling smile. Time reversed for a second and he remembered how she had looked when he had escorted her to Hamlet so many years ago. It couldn’t possibly be fifteen years, could it? She was more beautiful, dearer to his heart than ever before. He reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. She smiled even more brightly and he thought he saw a hint of tears in her eyes. Gently he cupped her chin and kissed her full on the lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“The evening’s not over,” he replied with a wink.

He had made arrangements for a late supper at the best hotel restaurant in the city. They made an arresting looking couple as they were shown to their table…Adam, tall and handsome in his evening clothes, and Meg, fairly floating along on his arm in the lovely black silk gown he had insisted that she purchase for the Ball.

“Some things never change,” Adam chuckled as he watched his wife tuck into a rich dessert, after they had eaten. “How can you eat like that and not get fat?” he teased her, not for the first time.

She swallowed and delicately wiped her mouth. “I’m sure I have not idea what you mean,” she replied primly, then giggled like a school girl. “I hope they’re paying their chef enough. Everything I ate was delicious.”

“Well, it may not be up to Tony Bonelli’s standards, but it was the best I could do on short notice,” Adam said with a grin as he finished his coffee. “If you’re just about finished with that, Mrs. Cartwright, I believe the band is playing a waltz. May I have this dance?” He stood and held out his hand.

They spent the better part of the next hour drinking champagne, dancing and talking and silently recalling just why they had fallen in love with each other.

“Need help with that?” Adam asked as he watched Meg struggle with the fasteners at the back of her gown, when they had returned to their hotel.

“Yes, please.”

“It’s always a pleasure to help you undress.” He carefully unfastened the hooks and eyes, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, her smile seductive.

“If I were a hussy, I suppose I could say the same thing,” she replied, carefully stepping out of the gown and hanging it up in the wardrobe.

“You’re a perfect lady in public, and a delightful combination of lady and hussy in private…every man’s dream,” her husband informed her as he undressed. Barefoot, he unbuttoned the high collar that had been annoying him all evening, then removed his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Meg, now dressed only in her undergarments, beginning to unlace her corset. She rarely wore one anymore, but the lovely gown required a corset, not only to fit well, but to provide the needed lift to her bust for the dress’s décolletage.

“Let me do that,” Adam demanded quietly, grasping the bow made by the strings. He tugged and nothing happened.

“It’s a double knot,” Meg informed him, holding on to the tall bed post, her back to him.

He wrestled with it for a second, then pulled and the bow released. Meg felt her waist liberated from the pressure of the garment. She wanted him to tear at the strings and free her midriff from the suffocating constriction, but she knew this was love play and he would take his time. She could wait.

Slowly he unlaced the corset another inch.

“When was the last time you and I were alone together for an entire evening?’ he asked huskily, moving closer.

“I can’t recall,” she answered softly. “It’s been a very long time.”

“Yes it has. Too long.”

He released another inch of lacing, for which she was very grateful. His nearness, his obvious intent, and the scent of him, was making breathing difficult enough without the restrictions of the corset. He bent forward and kissed the nape of her neck, then nibbled lightly up to her ear lobe. She leaned back against him.

“You’ll have to move forward or I won’t be able to loosen the rest of this,” he advised, his breath warm and moist in her ear.

“Uh huh,” she responded, not moving an inch.

He chuckled. “Did you hear what I said?”

“What?’

It was becoming increasingly difficult to reply because as one of his hands fiddled with the corset strings, the other was caressing her bottom. Her heart rate had picked up and her womb began to throb.

He pulled the cords out completely and the corset dropped around her ankles. She stepped out of it, grateful she had the bed post to hold for support. Adam moved close behind her, his arms crossing in front of her and pulling her back to him. She could feel his crinkly chest hairs against her chemise. Her head fell forward as he continued to kiss her neck, her ear, her cheek. His hands found their way to her breasts and she whimpered softly, a sound that never ceased to thrill him. She turned in his arms, seeking his mouth with her own. Lips parted, tongues dueled, and they fell across the bed together.

“Dear Lord, I love you, Adam,” she said, as they parted for a brief second and she caressed his beloved face. “Love me.”

He pushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek, as he moved her beneath him. “We have all night, Maggie. And that’s how long I intend to love you. That long and the rest of my life.”

Meg stretched contentedly in the comfortable bed as she awoke to the new day.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

She rubbed her eyes to see her husband, bare-chested, finishing up his morning shave in front of the mirror in the small bathroom.

She yawned broadly. “What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“Nine o’clock!”

She sat bolt upright and flung the blankets aside. “I never sleep this late! I have to get up, I have to get dressed. We have to get the children!” she exclaimed as she bounced out of the bed and hurried toward the wardrobe.

Adam stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed her by the arm as she rushed by. “Hey! Hey! Slow down there, Speedy. We can pick up the kids when we go to Bonelli’s for lunch. I’ve ordered breakfast to be served up here in the room. There are some things I want to talk to you about.”

Her face grew serious. “I don’t like the sound of that,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Relax. I…we have some decisions to make. Now go get washed up and dressed.” He looked at her disheveled appearance and grinned. “You don’t want to frighten the bellboy when he brings up breakfast.”

She slapped at him, playfully. “Oh you! What a nasty thing to…”

He grabbed her by both arms and kissed her soundly. It wasn’t one the passionate kisses that they had shared last night. This one said, “I’m your husband, I’m bigger and stronger than you are, now do as I say.” Still, it left her a bit breathless. She glared at him as she walked into the bathroom.

“I’ve eaten enough. Now just what do we have to discuss?” Meg demanded as she wiped her lips with the linen napkin.

There was no point in beating around the bush. “I’ve been offered several jobs here in Boston. There are two firms that would like to hire me on as an architect and I’ve had an offer from the state government to work on three new public buildings that are going up within the next five years.”

“What! When did all this happen? Why haven’t you said anything before this? Are you seriously considering these offers?” The questions tumbled forth in rapid succession.

“I met some people at the Governor’s Ball. Jack had told me this might happen. You’re not going to believe this, but he actually had some of my old work…drawings I did when we were in school! Anyway, he had showed them to some friends and they liked what they saw. They asked me to do some sketches and, apparently, they still liked my work. The fact that I have some knowledge of engineering was a plus. Word got round and before I knew it I had these two offers for jobs. Then three days ago…you remember…you were having lunch with some of your former colleagues…Jack asked me to his club to meet with a representative from the Governor himself. That’s when I got the third offer.” Adam calmly took a final sip of his coffee. “So now you know what we have to discuss.”

Meg was speechless. To her husband’s surprise, her eyes filled with tears.

“What’s the matter?” he asked with concern. “These are only offers. I don’t need to take them.”

“It’s not that,” she said, tears beginning to course down her face.

“Then what?”

“I can’t believe how much I’ve underestimated you all these years! I knew you studied architecture and engineering in school, but you must be very, very good for these people to seek you out. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how talented you actually are!” She dabbed at the tears with her napkin.

He got up chuckling and hugged her. “Come here. Let’s sit on the couch and talk.”

When she had calmed down, he said, “Don’t be too impressed. They’re suffering from a lack of talent in the city. It seems everyone wants to go west and make their fortune. I’m sure they’re just a little desperate to get their hands on someone who has any kind of credentials.”

“You’re being too modest,” she disagreed. “You’re incredibly talented. I’ve known that from the first time you showed me the plans you’d drawn for our house. And you built that flume in the high country, you figured out a way to bridge the Truckee when no one else could. You worked with that man Deidesheimer in the mines, you’ve built mills, helped drill wells, and…and…I don’t know what all else. It’s about time you got some recognition for all that!” she concluded stoutly.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said, with a grateful smile, then grew more serious. “Whatever the reasons, I’ve got to make a decision. And that’s why we need to talk. If I decided to take one of these offers, it would mean moving to Boston. I need to know how you feel about that.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Adam sighed. He was afraid this was what was going to happen. “I asked you first.”

She laughed. “We sound like the children.”

“I know,” he grinned. “I just want your honest opinion. What would you think of moving East and living in Boston?”

“That’s not fair, Adam. I don’t want you making such an important decision based on whether or not I’d like to live here instead of in Nevada. You’re the bread winner in the family. If I said I’d rather stay out West, you might be giving up a wonderful opportunity. If I said I’d like to move back East, you might resent the fact that you’d left your entire family almost a continent away. I don’t want the responsibility for that.”

“I know the decision is mine to make. But it affects all of us. From what I can gather, the children would rather go back home than stay here.”

“You spoke to them about this before you said anything to me!” she exclaimed, aghast.

“Calm down. I didn’t tell them anything. We played a game…what they like about Boston and what they like about home. I just wanted to see what they’d say.”

“And what did they say?” she asked curiously.

“Well, on the plus side for Boston, they liked all the shops, the fact that they could ride those velocipedes on the paved streets, the nearness to the ocean, the libraries, and the children’s events in the Common, like the puppet shows.”

“And what about Nevada?”

“They missed the horses, their cousins and friends, their school…yes, that one surprised me too,” he interjected when he saw Meg’s look of astonishment. “Jesse said there weren’t as many stars in Boston. I explained that they were harder to see because of the city lights. Beth said Boston wasn’t as beautiful as the Ponderosa. I think her exact words were, ‘Pa, there’s some beautiful places around here, but you hafta go out and find them. At home I can just stand on the porch and it’s all beautiful.’ None of them liked the fact that you can’t run barefoot in the city. The boys don’t like the clothes they have to wear here and they don’t think there’s much good hunting in the area. And Adam told me he liked visiting Boston, but the Ponderosa was home. Oh…and they’re tired of restaurant food. They miss your cooking.”

“They do?” Meg asked with a smile.

“That’s what they said. Frankly, so do I.”

There was a brief silence while she thought about all this. “Adam, let me ask you something. What are the reasons you think it would be a good idea to take one of these job offers in Boston?”

He considered the question. “Well, the pay is good. We’d be able to afford a nice house…maybe one of those new ones they’re putting up in the Back Bay section of the city. A lot of professional people are buying those. And you’d be able to have more help around the house…like our friends. You could have a cook and a housekeeper.”

“I love to cook. And those houses are no larger than ours at home, so I don’t see the need for a housekeeper. But go on. What else?”

“The hours would be pretty regular. I could spend more time with you and the kids.”

“You already spend a considerable amount of time with them. You teach the boys how to do ranch chores, you’ve taught Adam how to play the guitar, you’re teaching Jesse wood working, and you attend almost every tea party the girls invite you to. We spend just about every evening together reading or singing. You might have more time to spend with them, but they might find other interests living in the city that wouldn’t include you.”

“So I take it you don’t think this is a good idea?”

“I never said that. But let me ask you something. One definite advantage is that you’ll be able to use your education here. What types of projects would you be working on?”

“Housing and public buildings.”

“That’s all?”

“Isn’t that enough?” he laughed.

“I’m not sure,” she responded seriously. “At home you’ve been able to use what you know in so many different ways…our house for one, surely. But the other ones I mentioned…the bridge, making the mines safer, drilling for water, designing and constructing the flume, building a grist mill. You’ve helped solve problems and made life better for a lot of people. You have to ask yourself if designing houses and public buildings will be challenge enough for you…because you do love a challenge, Adam.”

“Well think of the advantages of living in a city like Boston,” he argued. “You’d be able to shop and get what you want or need right away. No waiting for a mail order to be sent by the catalogue company. And you could attend plays and concerts to your heart’s content. You have many friends here. The schools are excellent. And,” he added, saving his high card for last, “if Adam decides to go to Harvard, you wouldn’t have to say good-by to him.”

She began to laugh.

Adam sat back, crossed his arms, and watched her, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “What’s so funny?” he inquired.

“You are,” she answered, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“Oh really? Why? Tell me what I said that was so amusing.”

“All right”, she said agreeably. “I wanted you to give me a list of the reasons that it would be a good idea to move here. So far, you’ve only mentioned what you imagine the benefits would be for me and the children.” She held up her hand and counted off on her fingers. “Good schools, better shopping, servants, culture, and so on. I was the one who brought up what might be an advantage for you…more frequent use of your education.”

She slid to the floor, crossing her arms over his knees and looked up at him, her expression serious. “If you want to move here because it will make you happy, then you’ll get no argument from me. The children are young and will adapt. I can make a home for us anywhere. I’ve always said that, but you’ve never believed it. I appreciate your concern, but, your decision should be based on what will be the best for you.” She smiled reassuringly at him. “What’s best for you will be good for all of us, I promise you.”

“So you’re dumping this all on me?” he asked with a sigh.

She stood up and stroked his cheek. “Oh I think you’re strong enough to handle it. When do you have to let these people know?”

He inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly through pursed lips. “Soon.”

“And when will you let me know?”

Adam placed his hands on his knees and stood in one fluid motion. He walked over to her and took her in his arms. “Right now.”

Her face remained expressionless. “Well, what have you decided?”

He kept her in suspense for a brief moment, searching her face for a clue as to how she really felt. It frustrated him that he could find none. “I’m going to turn down the job offers.”

She collapsed against him, hiding her face in his chest. His heart sank. She had really wanted to make this move! Well, he could always change his mind. He hadn’t informed anyone else yet.

“Thank goodness!” Meg mumbled into his shirt.

“What?”

“I said, thank goodness,” she repeated, pulling back and looking up at him. “I’m happy on the Ponderosa. The children are happy there. And, deep down inside, I think you know it’s where you belong. I knew that about you when we met all those years ago.”

She pushed away from him and faced him, hands on her hips. “But I also know that you’d do just about anything to make me happy. I’m more than a little tired of fighting this battle with you, Adam. When are you going to get it into your head that I don’t feel deprived living on a ranch in Nevada? What can I say or do to make you understand that I view my life as just about perfect?”

“But living in the city you could have…” he began.

She threw her hands up in the air in disgust. “I know! I know! I could have servants and lots of free time. And just what would I do with all that free time? Fancy embroidery? Gossipy tea parties?” She began to pace around the room. “One of the most exciting things about my life in Nevada is that I learned to do so many new things. You’ve always accused me of being independent. Well, I glory in my independence. I love knowing I can raise, preserve, and cook the food to feed my family. It’s been an adventure learning about cattle, and horses, and even chickens. The most difficult household chore is laundry and we’ve always sent that out. I have modern conveniences like my sewing machine and my ice box and that beautiful new stove you insisted on buying. I don’t do anything that I don’t want to do. I love keeping house and raising our children. I especially love the family that I married into. They’re my relatives and my best friends. I’d miss them terribly and so would you.”

She stopped her pacing and faced him. “I love that you’d make such a sacrifice for me…giving up your home and family. But it’s not necessary. They’re my home and family too.”

Adam took her in his arms and kissed her brow. “I didn’t realize I’d been such a pain in the neck about this. I was only thinking of your…”

“Yes, I know,” she interrupted with a smile. “You were thinking about my comfort and happiness. I’m not going over this again. I’m happy. And just think,” she added with a laugh, “If I could go to the theater, lectures, and concerts all the time, I’d never appreciate them the way I’ve done on this trip.” She smiled engagingly. “There’s something you could do for me. Let’s make a trip East again, but not wait fifteen years to do it. I think I’d like that a lot.”

“I promise we’ll do it.”

“Good!” Then Meg suddenly frowned.

“What’s the matter?”

“Adam, you’re not deciding to go back West just because I said…”

He burst into laughter. “No,” he assured her. “I was flattered that I had those offers,” he confessed. “There would be a certain amount of prestige involved, especially with the government job. But what you said was true. I love a challenge and I doubt that I could find designing housing and buildings very exciting after a while. And working for someone else…well, I don’t know how much I’d like that.”

“You work for your father,” she pointed out.

He tapped her on the tip of her nose. “I work with my father. There’s a big difference.”

She nodded. “You’re right. The ranch belongs to all of you. I suppose the Ponderosa is like a little company all its own.”

“Mmmhmm. And with all the things I’ve seen here in the past few weeks, I’m hoping I can make some improvements to the ‘company’ when we get back…if I can convince Pa.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Oh, really? Just how do you intend to do that?” he asked.

“We women have our ways,” she answered, her voice adopting a tone of mystery.

“Ahh. So you intend to use your feminine wiles on him?” Adam asked with a laugh.

“Well, if it helps you, and ultimately helps us all, why not?’ she answered archly.

He hugged her tightly. “Why not indeed?”

After a moment he added, “Well, as much as I enjoy standing here with you in my arms, there are four little people waiting for us to pick them up. Hadn’t we better get going?”

She didn’t answer.

“Meg. Did you hear what I said? We have to go get the kids.”

“Oh. Yes, I heard you. I was just thinking…daydreaming actually,” she finally responded, looking up at him.

“About what?”

She shrugged. “Oh, just about Boston. What a special place it is. We were both born here, you came back here for school, I grew up and worked here, and, I guess most importantly, we met here. I very much want to go home, Adam, but I think I’ll miss the city a bit. I don’t want to live in Boston but…”

“I know how you feel,” he said quietly. “There’s a special connection here for both of us.” He kissed her tenderly. “And you’re right about something else. The most important thing that happened in this city was that I was lucky enough to meet you.” He paused for a second, then continued, speaking softly. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know where the time’s gone. All I know is that we’ve had fifteen incredible years and I hope that it’s just the beginning of many more.”

Meg smiled, his words causing her heart to sing. Adam wasn’t sentimental. She never doubted his love for her. He told her so, but his love was most clearly expressed in all his actions, like planning this special time together. He wasn’t one for flowery, romantic speeches, which made those few words very precious indeed. But he didn’t give her a lot of time to reflect on them.

He cleared his throat. “Well, are we going to stand here all day or round up the rest of the family?”

She sighed dramatically. “You don’t think they might get lost among all the grandchildren at Bonelli’s? I mean, in a family that big, what are four more kids, more or less?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, dear heart. You’re tarnishing the sterling image I have of you. Are you implying that you aren’t anxious to pick up the children? And here I thought you represented the epitome of motherhood.”

“Well of course I want to pick them up,” she declared, then pouted prettily. “But it’s nice having time for just the two of us. As you’ve pointed out, it’s a rare occurrence.”

“And just how would you like to spend this extra time together, assuming we don’t rush right over to Bonelli’s?” Adam asked, his expression deadpan, but his eyes twinkling. “Maybe we can sit here and read the newspaper?” he suggested.

“That’s not exactly what I was thinking.”

“Would you like to go shopping?”

“Not really.”

“We could get a head start on our packing.”

“Noooooo…”

“Then what? I’m open to any and all suggestions.”

“Hmmm,” she pretended to consider. “Well, did you have a good time last night?”

“I thought the concert was wonderful.”

“I wasn’t referring to the concert.”

“Oh! Well, the food at the restaurant was superb.”
“I wasn’t talking about the food either.”

“You’re making this difficult. Let’s see. Ah, the band was lively. I certainly enjoyed dancing with my favorite girl. Was that what you meant?” As he spoke, Adam was inching her over closer to the still unmade bed.

Meg smiled beguilingly at him, as she shuffled backwards. “You tease! You know exactly what I mean”

He laughed and rubbed her nose with is own. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean,” he said, upsetting her balance and causing them to tumble onto the bed together.

The large passenger train lurched and began its slow acceleration out of the station. After some minor skirmishes, the four children had been seated, Adam having devised a simple plan whereby they would each get equal time sitting at the window seats. He joined his wife and took her hand as she watched their departure. Her eyes glistened with tears. He produced a handkerchief and dabbed at them gently.

“I suppose these are because you’ve suddenly realized that we have a long trip ahead of us without the benefit of a private car or Swanson.”

She chuckled. “You always know how to make me feel better!” And she laughed softly, sniffed, and wiped her eyes with her gloved hand. “No, I’m just sad to see such a wonderful time end.” She smiled a watery smile at him. “And it was a perfectly wonderful trip, Adam. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The train picked up speed, and the old city began to disappear from view. Meg reached out and took his hand in hers.

“But as wonderful as all of this was, I just want to let you know I’m so glad to be going home. The Ponderosa is my home, Adam…not Boston…the Ponderosa. I hope I’ve finally convinced you of that.”

Nothing else she said could have pleased him more. He nodded, but before he could respond he felt a little hand tugging at his coat sleeve. Annie had left her seat and was looking up at him inquiringly.

“Pa. When we will be there?”

Adam and Meg looked at each other. Meg shrugged helplessly and they both burst into laughter. Adam reached down and picked the child up, depositing her on his lap.

“This is going to be long trip, Bright Eyes.” He glanced at Meg, and muttered, “A very long trip, I’m afraid.”

She laughed at his expression, and he grinned back at her.

“Laughter,” Adam thought to himself, pleased. It was an auspicious way for his family to begin their journey home.

The End

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