THE LONG ROAD TO TOMORROW

Written by:  Monette Bebow-Reinhard

    Ben Cartwright stepped out of the Mormon Station supply post with no goods to show for his visit.  A stout man in his 40s, hair partially gray, he was an established and respected figure, not admonished for the days he didn’t make purchases at the post.  He made this trip to the southern end of the lake four times a week, not always because he needed supplies but because he hoped to meet new settlers coming in.  One day soon one of them coming from the east would bring his eldest son home to him.
    The year was 1851, and most everyone with a dollar in his jeans and a dream in his heart passed through Utah Territory to the booming new state of California.  Ben had no desire to make the rush to San Francisco or even back to Sacramento Valley.  His roots were firm now, and soon his family would be complete again, as complete as any four-man family could be.  Eight years earlier his third wife Marie died, and missing her had only begun to fade when Adam suddenly changed his mind and agreed to go to school back east. To have married three times and once more a widow made Ben realize the life he’d chosen for himself was too hard on a woman.  He and his sons must now be happy with what these women had given them.  Each other.
    Ben stood outside the post studying the trails that spread out in three directions, the forth direction a wall of mountain going straight up to heaven.  Ben thought that should make him feel contented but instead he felt a restless sort of ‘now what’, like life was still lingering in the wings, waiting to happen.  He knew better, life was what he made it, but still there was that itching that said something was going to happen that he couldn’t control.  Like the day Marie came riding up to the house in breathless excitement and in the next instant was dead.  He hadn’t had a letter from Adam in so long, he didn’t know when to expect him more than any day now, or even which direction he’d come from, east on wagon or south or west, after taking a long clipper ship to get the salt from his veins, as Ben once had to do.  The last letter Adam said he would finish up in early spring and head for home.  That letter was six months back!  Since sending the boy off to college Ben had so little contact that at times he worried Adam no longer existed, that he only imagined the life he and Elizabeth had begun together.
    But an education was a great thing, and Adam had a fierce appetite for learning.  The restlessness he showed when he turned 18 dissipated when Ben mentioned sending him east to study, even though his natural stubbornness wouldn’t let him admit it at first.  “No, Pa, you have your hands full trying to tame this land and those two big mouth brothers of mine.”  But Ben convinced him.  He grinned thinking he would get Adam to tell him how because, and he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, his memory wasn’t what it used to be.  He hoped passionately that he would recognize Adam straight off, that his dark hair and eyes and his steady, sobering countenance would not have changed that much in only three years.   
    Hoss and little Joe came running out of the post, each with a small bag of candy.  Neither bore resemblance to their older brother, though they were half-brothers.  Hoss, a very large 16, took after his Swedish mother Inger, and at nine Joseph looked like his delicate Southern mother almost exactly.  
    "Will we know him, Pa?"  Little Joe asked, sucking on homespun taffy.
    "Of course we will, ya little muffin," Hoss, older and smarter, gave Joe a shove.  "He ain't been gone that long."
    "It's been a long time, ain't it, Pa."  Little Joe said, shoving Hoss back.  "A long long time."
    "That's right, Little Joe." Ben answered.  "A long long time."
    Hoss grinned sheepishly and nodded.
    A lone rider stopped in front of them, his horse biting its bit between its teeth as its nostrils flared, anxious to be continuing down the road it had hard started.  "Well, Ben, as I live and breathe.  What brings you to this sorry excuse for a town?"
    "Roy!  Roy Coffee!  Good to see you!"  Ben strode to the rider and shook his hand vigorously.
    "You taking your time getting supplies today?  Didn’t think you liked staying off that Ponderosa of yours for long.”  Roy was a stout, sturdy looking man a little older than Ben, with a gregarious smile under a graying mustache.  Nothing much passed his shrewd eyes, but then Ben was making himself a bit of a spectacle, staring off down the road as though he had no future, only a past.
    "Well, Roy, I guess I have been a bit of a fixture around here lately.  But tell me, is it true you put in a bid for constable, now that there's a sign of real life springing up out here?"
    "That's right, Ben.  You know the Mormons here are real sticklers for law and order.  Don't know if they'll accept me, being gentile, but I've been on posses, and covering for that no-good Tanner who rides around thinking he's the territory's God given gift to law and order and helping out every which a way and running my own homestead at the same time."
    "Well, I'll tell you, they couldn't do better, having you helping out," Ben slapped Roy's saddle and leaned amiably.  "And I'll rest easier with you in the title, Roy.  But do you think this is a growing part of the country?  I mean, everyone headed out to San Francisco like they are?  They could use you out there."
    "You know, Ben, that's the last thing I want.  A big city like that.  I almost hope this Mormon Station stays this way, doesn't grow any bigger a’tall.   And you know as well as me that trouble can travel anywhere, even here."
    "Roy, you'll make a great lawman.  Adam used to say that---."
    "Say, that's it, innit?  You're expecting your boy to be coming home any week now.  Been three years already, has it?"
    "A very long three years.  I can't tell you how hard it is wondering every day if he’s even...." Ben let the thought that shook his nightmares trail off, unsaid.
    "Oh, don't you worry none about Adam.  He’s got a sound head on his shoulders."
     "I'll tell you what worries me.  It's not every day a son comes back to this kind of life after being out east getting an education."  He paused.  "I hope he won't be disappointed living this kind of life now."
    "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Ben.  Say, I'm gonna be moseying now, I gotta go over to Salt Lake City to see about filing some papers.  Don't be such a stranger, now, you hear?"
    "I hear, Roy.  Nice to see you."  Roy waved to the boys and rode off.
    Joe tugged on Ben's coat.  "Pa, when's Adam gonna be here?"
    Ben squatted down to look Joe in the eyes.  "I wish I could answer that, Little Joe.  Hard as the thought might be to accept, we may never see Adam again.  He may have hooked a ride with some settlers coming out this way and got butchered by Indians, or he may have got on a ship and for all we know it sank out in the ocean."  At the saddened expression on the usually lively Little Joe's face, Ben pulled the boy close and hugged him hard.  He would be sure to hold on to these two boys extra hard.  “I’m sorry to talk so harshly, but we have to prepare ourselves.  Adam may have decided not to come back.”
    "Naw, he wouldn’ta done that."  Hoss sat dejectedly on the ground.  He pulled a weed out of its stalk and stuck it in his mouth, making him look like a little boy again instead of an overly large 16.
    "Pa, we can keep hoping he'll come back, right?" Joe said, his small face wrinkled in a frown against his Pa's jacket.
    "Yes, son, we sure can."  He ruffled Joe's head and stood.  "But even hope doesn't last forever."  Each day they waited for Adam to return brought them another day closer to never.  They may never see him again.
    Joe broke away from Ben and ran to sit next to Hoss.  He pulled out a weed stalk and stuck it in his mouth, imitating his brother.  Ben smiled sadly.  Two sons.  How strange a feeling to have only two sons.  It would take a lot of getting used to.  He squinted with renewed hope at another wagon coming down the trail from the south, the Mexican route.  Hoss got up and stood beside Ben as they watched intently.  Joe spotted a rabbit and dashed off after the hopping animal, unnoticed.
    Ben walked a little bit down the road.  He could see the driver but no one sat next to him, although with the dust from the trail swirling around the wagon, he couldn’t see all that clearly.  Unwarranted, bitter disappointment choked in his throat. Ben realized with a sinking desperation that it was no longer possible to keep hope strong.  
    Hoss slipped a hand on his Pa’s shoulder.  “Maybe there’d be a letter, Pa.”
    “I know, Hoss, and I would be satisfied, but…” he refrained from continuing. It wouldn’t do to give Hoss or Joe his anguish.
    The wagon driver shouted sharply to the horse and jerked the reins.  Someone jumped out of the back of the wagon and ran off up into the wooded hill.  The figure darted so quickly and disappeared that Ben wasn't sure he had seen anything at all.
    "Pa!"  Hoss said, pulling on Ben's arm.  "Where's Little Joe?"
    Ben wheeled around, but his youngest was nowhere in sight.  "Go check the fort!"  With Indians nearby and mountain lions that came down from the hills, he reminded these boys over and over again not to wander off on their own.  "Joe!"  Ben had no idea which way Joe went, but that fellow who jumped off the wagon may have seen something. He ran into the woods and up the hill in the direction the stranger headed, cursing his own stupidity.  To be lax with these boys here where life was unpredictable was purely foolish.  He endured enough pain losing his wives - he was not going to lose his sons!  He could only hope, day by day, to get these two boys to their beds again until they were old enough and smart enough to handle the wild on their own.  
    Adam had to come home - he needed his eldest to help keep these sons - especially the irrepressible Little Joe - from getting into more mischief than necessary.  That wasn’t all there was to it - losing him to the east would be the same as accepting another death in the family.     
    “Joe!”  Now worrying about one son might have led to the loss of another.  He quickened his step up the loose rocky hillside, unconcerned about his own safety.  "Joe!  Little Joe!"  Not surprisingly, his hair had begun to whiten shortly after the boy began to walk.
    "He's all right, Pa!"
    Ben stopped.  That voice…he swallowed hard at the sudden dryness in his throat.  “Hello?  Who’s…?”
    Adam, sporting a large grin and wearing clothes Ben didn't recognize, came slowly down through the pines with a giggly Little Joe on his shoulders.
    "Pa!"  Joe shouted.  "I found him!  We were just looking in the wrong place!"
    Ben laughed heartily, holding back his urge to run for a long needed embrace.  He let his sons have their hellos first.  Hoss ran like an overgrown buffalo calf to his brothers, and Adam gave him a long overdue hello.
    "Well, son," Ben said as the tall lad - no, man, his son was now a grown man - came up to him.  "That was an unusual entrance."
    "You know me, Pa, why do anything the easy way."  Adam hefted Joe down.  After a pause he and Ben exchanged teary looks and clasped each other in a warm embrace.  "Good to be home, Pa."
    "I had nightmares not knowing how you were for three years, if you were still alive…"
    "You got a few of my letters, Pa, you didn’t need to worry about me."  Adam looked up wistfully at the tall trees climbing the foothills and back at the roughly hewn fort that served as a hotel as well as supply post.  "It’s really different out here than back east.  Land of a thousand chances, they call the far side of the Mississippi in Boston, wide, open, free....wild.  Life was easy and settled in Boston, but people from the east kept leaving, coming out here and seeing all this for the first time....if I were them, I’d be sorely tempted turn back and stay where life was civilized.”  He forced his wistful expression into a huge smile.  “But now that I’m here, I’m glad I didn’t give in to the temptation.”
    Ben sensed a pain in his son’s voice that didn’t exist before, but a new wave of excitement and relief overwhelmed him.  "I'm so glad you're home!"  Ben grabbed Adam again and hugged him.  "I'd about convinced myself we'd never see you again!"  He wiped his eyes, laughing.  "Come on, we'll take you home and you can tell us all about this education of yours.  You can tell us all about your entire three years, a day at a time---.”
    "Hold on, Pa.  Let me get my gear first."

    The ride home was slow and lazy, conversation dictated mostly by Little Joe who rode his horse sitting in front of Adam and couldn't be made to quiet down.  Even the scolding Ben had given him for running off didn't still him for long.  Though Adam seemed to enjoy the attention, every now and again Ben noticed him drifting off into a private corner of his mind.
    Three years made his son older in every respect.  Though still slender in frame, his dark eyes held a maturity and his carriage portrayed the way he felt about himself now - immeasurably older.  He dressed more meticulously and every dark hair on his head sat neatly in place.  Ben found himself anxious to have Hoss and Joe in bed for the night so they could talk.  More happened to him than just those stories he told to make his brothers laugh.
    "I'll bet you're glad you didn't decide to settle at that ranch out by Mr. Sutter in California, right, Pa?  Have you been out that way since this gold craze got people stirred up?"
    "No, and I feel bad for John, I do, but we're lucky to be here and not there, that is a fact.  I’m grateful now that we…that he had been able to stop it from happening even earlier.  Say, I picked up another 100 acres while you were gone, son, some up north and some down around Mormon Station."
    "Another hundred, Pa!"  Adam's smile was brief.  "Any of it Indian land?"
    "Our negotiations were friendly.  This band of Utes was getting ready to move into the desert to their winter home and I promised we'd never force them off if they wanted to come back for the summer.  And you know our section of Lake Bigler is never off limits to any of them.....I mean, Lake Tahoe."
    "Adam, you should have seen ‘em!  They was madder than a peeled rattler, I thought Pa was going to get scalped!"  Joe made a slicing motion with his hand, and his lips smacked wetly.  "But I grabbed Pa's rifle and Hoss had his gun and---"
    "Hush, boy."  Ben said, but Adam seemed not to hear.
    The rest of the ride home was peppered with Hoss and Joe talking of learning to cowpoke, and the misadventures of Hoss teaching Joe to read.  Adam kept up with the conversation, but Ben sensed that a part of him was missing.  He feared to guess which part, if it was a part that would take him away from home again, and for good.

    That night Ben waited in front of the small log fire in his makeshift fireplace as Adam tucked Hoss and Joe in bed in the next room.  He thought about his dream to have a ranch house large enough for his growing sons, and thought now would be a good time to move ahead on it.  Could be just the project to get Adam interested in living out here again.
    "So Pa's taught you both to shoot, has he?" Adam asked as the boys settled each on his own side of the bed.
    "Not Joe, boy, when Pa catches him with a gun he gets a licking but good!"
    Adam nodded.  "That doesn't stop you, does it, Joe?"
    "Uh-uh, I'm grown up too!"
    "How old were you, Hoss, 14, when you learned to shoot?”
    Hoss sat up, too old to be tucked.  "Naw, 13.  Pa taught me right after you left.  He says I was big enough to handle a gun."
    Adam laughed.  "You were too, if I remember right.  You're bigger than I am now."
    "And fat too!"  Little Joe giggled.
    "Ah, cut it out."  
    "Nothing wrong with a good appetite, brother, and you always had one.  But Joe, point is, you got to be a certain age up here," Adam pointed to his head, "to be able to handle a gun.  Otherwise you'll like as not shoot your own foot off.  Or," he leaned forward, tucking the blanket under Joe's chin, to chase away the Sierra chill that he was no longer accustomed to, "…shoot someone else.  And that's never good, not if there's another way.  So you listen to Pa, ok?"
    Joe's eyes widened at the fatherly advice coming from a strangely older brother.  "Ok."
    "You keep being a kid as long as you can get away with it."  Adam looked away but the sigh escaped.  "Now I gotta go talk to Pa. Doesn’t appear to be room for me here anymore.  I think we’ll have to do something about that."  He started for the sitting room.
    "Hey, Adam?"  Hoss's voice was pensive.
    "Yeah, Hoss?"  Adam tensed.
    "You ain’t thinkin’ a leaving again, are ya?”
    Adam couldn't look back, but kept his voice light.  "Nah. I’m home now, Hoss.  Yeah, I’m home.”  He stood in the doorway, his mind miles away, until he saw Ben studying him. “Place seems a lot smaller.  Sure there’s still room for me?”
    “Nope.”  When Adam cocked an eyebrow at him, Ben laughed.  “Sit down.  Let’s talk about building us that big ranchhouse.”
    Adam looked up at the ceiling, at the dent in the wooden ceiling Marie made with the iron skillet during one of their tempestuous arguments.  Ben missed those arguments, they always led to equally tempestuous lovemaking.  Adam remembered Marie too, by the look on his face.  “Might be a good idea, all right.  Hard to picture living somewhere else.  How about we just add on?  This could become the kitchen and cook’s room.”
     "Cook?  We’re taking on help now?”  Ben shared a chuckle with his son, knowing equally their own failed attempts at culinary feasts.  "“ou sound like you might have found some building education back east.  Did you get to study architecture like you wanted?”  Ben opened the cabinet that stood behind the eating table and pulled out a bottle with two small glasses.
    "Well, not officially, Harvard didn't offer it.  But I studied anything close I could get my hands on and then I apprenticed for a year.  It's a better way to learn, anyway."  Adam opened the smaller case and pulled out a sketchbook.
    "Don't sketch yet, son.  Sit down."  Ben held a small glass of golden liquid out to him.  "Homecoming celebration.  Go ahead, you're old enough."  
    Adam took the glass.  He sniffed as the liquid swirled in the glass, made a slight face and took a swallow.  As Ben watched he realized his boy grew up without him, and not for the first time Ben felt his chest ache.  After a minute Adam sat in the chair across from him.  As he closed his eyes a brief flutter of pain crossed his face.  
    "Tell me about it."
    Adam looked at him.  "What's to tell?  Three years of intense study, in a world so different from here it was…”  He shook his head, as if some thought escaped him.  “But it's progress, and you know all about that."
    "Who was she?"
    "How do you know there was a she?"  He stood and finished his brandy.  "You haven't changed.  What makes you so all fired sure you're right all the time!"  He turned away.
    "Adam, maybe I haven't changed but you have, and it's not the schooling.  You've been taken and twisted around.  If not a woman, then what?"  Now Ben could see even his breathing was causing him distress, but Ben knew better than to go to him.  Adam always preferred working things out himself.  In that one respect he wouldn't have changed.
     "She...she wouldn't come back with me, Pa."  Adam sat down, clutching the empty glass.  "God help me, I love her more now than I thought possible."  He gripped the glass so tightly Ben could imagine the glass exploding and ripping his hand apart.  "I felt good with her...damn it, Pa, why did it have to be all wrong?  She's far away and I love her more than ever."
    "Go back for her.  Convince her to come.  Or," Ben leaned back, physically forcing the words out, "stay with her, if that's where your heart is."
    “I belong here."
    Ben wasn't about to argue.  "Why won't she come?"
    "She didn't...." he looked at his hands.  "She doesn't love me."
    Ben got up slowly and went to Adam.  He put his hands on the boy's shoulders and let him weep quietly.  Out here, and even in Sacramento Valley years earlier, they were so isolated that Adam never had a relationship with a girl before going to college.  Education was more than just books, as Adam discovered the hard way.
    "Young girls don't always know their own minds."  Adam stiffened under his grip.  "What is it?"
    Adam walked to the front door.  "I need some air.”  He paused and glanced back over his shoulder.  “Don’t wait up."
    Ben thought this new worry would lead to another sleepless night, but at least his son was home.  Whatever Adam needed help handling, he was back where his family could help him.

    Adam stopped at the hitching rail and leaned against the wobbly wood, looking down at the rocky granite soil.  He felt lower than dirt, his mouth gritty with his own deceit.  He should not be ashamed of the love he had with Colleen.  But the relationship that he thought was open and honest - was anything but.
    Colleen was not young, she was 10 years older than he was.  She knew her mind, all right, and she had loved him, she convinced him what they had was real.  But she had a choice to make and she made the right one for her.  Those were the words she used.  The right one for her…for her…and her decision killed his love, she took all of him and wouldn't give him back to himself, not the way he was, and seeing all that he used to be now buried inside her made trying to get her back too painful.  He felt torn apart when he got on that boat heading to Mexico - but he would have died inside and out if he had stayed.
    Because she went back to the arms of a husband he never knew him she had.  And because…No, he could never tell Pa.  Because she was carrying a child.  She ripped his heart out by telling him this child was not his, that she was married and the child belonged to her husband.  He was only the prize fool, nothing more.  No, she didn’t tell him that part, she couldn’t.  But he knew it, just the same.
    He couldn’t see clear back then, and in his pain he said some things, things he didn’t mean but felt, things that only made both of them feel worse and then he ran because there was nothing left.  She used him.  She never loved him at all.  But at least she waited until after he had his degree.
    Now he had to make himself understand that as hard as he worked to let himself love her, he was going to have to find a way to hate her.  After all that pain and all that anger, halfway back home he  missed her like a man going insane.

    As much as he had anticipated the joy of seeing Adam at the breakfast table, Ben wasn’t prepared for feeling overwhelmed the next morning seeing his family whole again.  Adam stood over the table finishing his sketch while Joe and Hoss, still clad in their sleeping garb, watched wholly fascinated.
    Joe ran to Ben.  "Pa!  Come see my new bedroom!  Mine, all by myself!  And I helped him make it!"
    "Adam, you're done with the design already?  Didn't you sleep, boy?"
    "Oh sure, Pa, I got a little.  See what you think."
    Ben stood next to him, amazed again that his eldest was really here, and a grown man.  He may always regret losing those three years of his life, but when he looked at the design knew that Adam’s education was one hard decision he made that was really right.  "Adam, it's a..." he fingered the paper.  "It's a real monstrosity, isn't it."
    Adam frowned.  "It's too big?"
    "I'm not sure.  I just didn't expect...six bedrooms on the top floor?"
    "But this is what you've talked about for years.  A real home. Two stories with a stone fireplace and dining room large enough to serve an elegant meal for 10 friends.  A bunkhouse over here, a spare room here on the ground floor, and here on this wall, a rack for that rifle collection you’ve always talked about.”
    “Where’s the kitchen,” Hoss poked his nose down to the paper as though finding the kitchen meant finding food.
    “You’re standing in it.”
    Hoss jumped aside and looked down.  “Ah.  Ha-ha.  Very funny.”
    “No, seriously, this house is just the right size, don’t you think?”
    “Sure, if we got servants.”
    Adam grinned.
    “Pa!” Hoss turned, shocked.  “You gonna get servants to cook?”
    “We already got servants, we got Barney.” Joe stuck his finger in the sugar jar and sucked on it.
    "We don’t need servants, I can cook.”
    Adam laughed.  "I'm sure you can, Hoss.  Who's Barney?"
    "He's the cowhands' cook, older brother.  Geez, did you forget everything?"
    Adam tossed his pencil to the table and turned to the front door.  Ben thought he was going to bolt again, like last night. When Adam looked back, the light in his eyes was gone.
    "Guess I did, Hoss.  You just keep reminding me, all right?"
    "Sure will!"
    "I see you haven't built a second story over this kitchen," Ben said, more to distract his own thoughts than his son's.  “Little Joe, stay out of the sugar.”
    "Better ventilation.  That's one room that'll get a lot of use, with four Cartwright men to feed."
    "Yeah, men!"  Joe yelled.
    "If you can get some help together to start cutting the timber that we'll need, I'll take off for San Francisco to round up supplies like mortar and nails, some precut wood for the stair---."
    "San Francisco?"
    "Maybe not so far, maybe I won't have to go any farther than Sacramento."
    "Wait, Adam---."
    "Don't you want to get started on it?"
    "Yes, but there's---."
    "No time like right now.  I'll be ready to leave by the end of the week."
    "But you only just got here."
    "What do we get to do, Adam?" Joe asked, pulling on Adam’s sleeve.
    "Well, now, I've got just the perfect job for you and Hoss."  Adam said, leaning over him.  "The two of you keep track of how many trees Pa cuts and then each of you plant another one in its place."
    "Two for every one, Adam?"  Hoss asked.
    "That's right."  Adam straightened up.  "Every time I saw logging wheels coming into town back east, I'd think about another bare acre of land out here."
    "Even with the timber we’ve been selling to new settlers we've managed to keep the trees growing."  Ben stared at the sketch, not sure this was quite what he had in mind, wondering if Adam was going overboard for a reason. "I'll turn down any new sales for awhile since we'll be needing the lumber ourselves."
    "I expect that'll make some people unhappy."
    "I expect so."  They shared a quiet speculative thought for a moment.  Handling the greed for resources posed an ever-growing threat.
    Adam rubbed his hands together with a slap that made Ben jump.  "All right, boys, what do you say we go see if my special eastern grits and honeyjam stew is finished cooking for Pa's breakfast!"
    Ben watched Adam herd the boys to the stove.  There was so little time until Adam left again.  Adam had more on his mind, but Ben wasn't sure he would ever share it.  Holding things in was his normal way, at least until he could make some sense out of the trouble himself.
    One thing Ben was sure of.  If Adam couldn't share the source of the pain, worse pain would catch up to him somewhere down the road.

    Adam got whatever supplies he could find in Sacramento for the mere signing of an IOU when his cash ran low.  Supplies were scarce enough and costly; he wished he had thought to bring a wagonload from the east, but at the time found passage by boat to be the cheapest and easiest route.  The scarcity of specially crafted building items like stairwells meant more delays in building while they hand craft these special pieces, but there was no sense fretting over that now, except to figure out how to go about it.
    At least the name Ben Cartwright still pulled a lot of weight in Sacramento.  Signing an IOU meant he wouldn’t need to make a trip back again for at least a month.  John Sutter's influence was dwindling was still good enough for honor and there were still so many who remembered Ben personally that Adam was impressed.  He had only been eight or so when they moved to California and not quite 12 when they left again.  He had been too busy with the task of growing himself up to notice Pa's friends, or how Pa came to making enough money to stake out his land among the Ponderosa pine.
    He felt the gun by his side.  A sign of the territory, once the ship docked at the Mexican harbor, was that he needed to pick himself up a gun again.  "Protection, son, that's all," Pa told him when he gave Adam his first gun. "Not to be strong or brave or smart."  Pa taught him how to shoot when he was 12 and by the time he was 14 was an adept shot by any standards.  He had no use for a gun back east, though there were others who did.  
    Now even after weeks of wear, the weapon still felt uncomfortable, but he would have been more uneasy without it on the lonely ride back with this wagonload of valuable supplies.  There was a chance he was going to have to use this gun somewhere on the way home.  For protection.
    For no expected reason he thought of Colleen.  "Oh no, Adam, don't worry.  I love you and that's what matters."  That night making love to her had felt so good, so right.  The years caught up to him that night, and he was no longer a child.  But the euphoria he felt being with her didn't last long enough.  Not near long enough.
    She had seemed so innocent, so carefree, even at her age.  But after she told him the truth he could see how blind to her lies he had been.  There were certain times of the day they could not, or did not meet.  There were certain parts of town she would not let him take her.  And the way she dressed - he realized she dressed more as in disguise than youthful eccentricity.  How could he fall for her?  How could he let himself be so blind?
    He allowed himself the blame that he had been young, and she had been persistent.   That was all, nothing more.  He had been blinded by attentiveness in a city of strangers.  He didn’t want to use the word love in connection with her anymore, but if he needed to remember what love felt like, he would think of her again.  He hated himself for knowing this, for knowing he may never be able to let her go.  
    He clicked at the horse hitched to the wagon to hurry the animal’s pace.  He would be facing days on the trail, going this speed.  He longed for home more than he thought on this short trip.  The Ponderosa was where he belonged.
    He pulled out his gun and hefted it in his hand.  Cool, not too heavy, fitting his hand nicely.  Dawn and dusk would be good times for a little shooting practice.  Get the rust out of the fingers.  There was a real power here, holding a gun.  For protection.
    But when he replaced the gun he wondered if Colleen and her husband were happy with their new baby.  She got what she wanted.  All he got was a bitter and gritty taste in his mind.
    
    Adam pulled the wagon up short under a tree alongside the Truckee River.  He was taking the less traveled route which slowed his pace even more.  In the day and a half since he left Sacramento he'd seen nary a soul, except for a few wagons riding through looking worn from adventure.  Those folks had given him barely a nod without a falter in their horse's step.  These new folks on the wagon ahead of him, moving mighty slow, pulled up short when they heard him behind them - a man and a woman heading in the direction of California, but slow, like they were thinking to find land to stay on right here.
    Adam pulled his horse up behind their wagon and got down, discreetly feeling for his gun. The few chances he'd had to practice paid off - he was still faster than most.  Some things earned are never lost.  
    "Thank goodness, Sam, maybe he can help."  The pale and petite woman sighed, turning back to Adam.  "We seem to be hopelessly lost."
    "Not really, Margaret, just a little off target."  The man said, smiling.
    "Where you headed?"
    "Well, we were headed for San Francisco but we got to liking the scenery around here and thought we could find us some land but we don't know where to go to ask on it."
    "I expect you folks will be good enough to stick to your original plan.  San Francisco."  He leaned against their wagon, a threatening gesture, right hand resting on his gun.
    The young couple, startled, drew close to each other and the man, overly gaunt and sporting a two day growth of beard, straightened his shoulders.
    "Now see here---"
    "Your problems will be over in San Francisco, not here.  So get moving."
    The man seemed about to explode, but bit his lip and put his arm around his wife.  "Look, mister, we don't want a fight.  Now if you'll just point us to a plot of land that isn't yours---"
    "I don't think you understand me."  Adam pulled out his gun, liking the feel.  "You don't belong here."
    "Now wait, there's no need of that!"
    "Oh, Sam!"
    Adam cocked the trigger.  "Have I made myself clear, Sam?"
    The man pulled away from his wife quickly and picked up the reins.  "Hyah!"  They didn't glance back as they turned their wagon westward and rode away.
    Adam fired his gun in the air, sending their mangy mule into a trot.  He climbed back into his wagon and gave the retreating couple a final look.  He closed his eyes briefly and grimaced, rubbing his aching head before slapping the reins of his horse to head on home.

    Ben stopped chopping notches in the lumber Adam measured and stripped, and wiped sweat mixed with sawdust off his face.  “This isn’t working, Adam, we need more help.  We’ll never get the house framed up before the first snow.”
    Adam leaned back from the saw, running a sleeve across his forehead.  “I know.  We need more than the two men you found to help out, and we’ve only got two cowboys watching the herd now.  If we don’t get a sawmill built, there’s just no thinking ahead at all.  But Pa, there’s no real rush.  We have a roof over our heads, and the new house will get done in good time.  Hoss has lost some of his clumsiness, which is a big help.”  Adam grinned and bent back over the saw.
    “You know you never should have taken that boundary ride through the Ponderosa.  Once you sketched it out for me, you made me realize how much bigger we have to start thinking.  Picking up an acre here, an acre there, really builds up.”
    “Yeah.”  Adam stopped sawing again and put a foot on the wood, leaning forward intensely.  “Pa, maybe you could give some land back, huh?”
    “Give some back?  What in fool’s name----”
    Adam held up a hand.  “Just listen to me.  You’ve got more land than we can ever make proper use out of.  Now there’s that tribe of Utes up north that are probably feeling pretty put out right now---”
    “Adam, you know as well as I that all this beautiful land is going to be up for grabs with more whites coming west all the time.  Better it ends up in our hands than to someone who doesn’t
appreciate the land the way it is.  We will never turn off any Indian tribe who wants to live here.  They just haven’t wanted to, that’s all.”
    “But Pa, a thousand acres?  For what?”
    Ben looked up at the sky, a vivid blue, before turning back.  “For my sons.  For their freedom.”
    They heard horses off in an easterly direction.  Ben took several steps, waiting, while Adam shook his head and went back to sawing.
    Two men rode into the Ponderosa’s back lot where the shed they built for sawing stood.  They rode horses that looked sorely ready for resting.  
    “Afternoon, gentlemen,” Ben called up to them.  “New to the area?”
    “That’s right, sir.  Mind if we get down?”
    Ben looked over his shoulder at Adam, who was watching with narrowed eyes.  “Help yourself.”
    Both men were poorly dressed and lightly geared.  One, tall and lanky, had a nervous look about him as though thinking someone was on his tail.  The other, a little heftier, had a wide open grin as he approached Ben that made Ben take a liking to him, even though he generally did not judge anyone from a first meeting.
    “We were sent here by a fellow over to Mormon Station who said you might be of need of our services.”
    "And what services might those be?"  Ben asked.
    He stepped forward and put out his hand.  "I'm Burt Conroy, and this here's Marv Robertson.  Back east, our folks not being able to afford us no better schooling, we---"
    Marv leaned over and whispered to Burt.  Ben didn’t like judging on first impressions at all, but this one’s face was full of doubtful suspicion, like he was whipped for too many years.
    "Marv here is worried that telling you we're headed for California would make us look like scoundrels of some sort.  But I believe in being straight and forward with people.  You don't mind, do you, Mr.?"
    "Ben Cartwright, and there's nothing to be ashamed of in heading that way.  As long as you don't step on anyone on your way there."
    "Oh, no, sir, we wouldn't do that."  Marv gave him a scared and anxious grin that made him look anything but furtive.
    "Anyhow," Burt continued.  "You was asking what we can do.  Well, sir, we've done just about everything growing up.  My father was a blacksmith and carpenter, and Marv here, well, he's done a lot of trapping and fishing, and though he don't look it he's mighty strong.  He can lift twice his weight without even breaking a sweat."
    "Then consider yourselves hired.”  He looked over his shoulder at Adam.  “We're going to build us a sawmill."
    “Pa, wait a minute.”  Adam strode forward.  Burt held out a hand at him but Adam ignored the gesture.  “You can’t just up and hire strangers like that.”
    "What choice do we have?  We want to build a sawmill, and we want to build a house.  You already showed me how much work that is.”
    “I told you before, Pa, we don’t have to rush.  How do you know you can trust them, they’re from back east!”
    “Back east?  Adam, what’s gotten in to you?  You’re condemning two men because of where they’ve come from?”
    Adam turned away and took a deep breath.  “I’m just telling you to be a little more particular.  Ask them for references.  Find out if they’ve accomplished anything, if they carried anything through from start to finish.”
    “Mr., I can assure you---“
    Marv, holding the reins of two horses, interrupted Burt.  “We got credentials, but we didn’t bring ‘em!”
    Burt held up a hand to quiet his friend.  “We were told that out here, things being so open and all, that any strong back and arms were welcome.  It’s okay, mister.  We can move on.  There’s bound to be another gravy train somewhere down the road.”
    “I already said you were hired.”
    “We don’t want to cause no trouble.”
    Ben folded his arms across his chest.  “My son....will get used to you.  He takes a little longer, is all.”  He heard the saw slam against the log behind him and smiled solemnly.  “You will report to me each morning for the day’s assignment, starting here, starting tomorrow.  Good day, gentlemen.”
    Marv mounted but Burt didn’t budge.  “Excuse me, but....where should we stay?”
    “San Francisco,” Adam said with a grunt.
    “Adam.”  Ben turned back.  “You could stay at the fort back in Mormon Station, they usually have a room available.  But since that’s a bit of a ride, I guess, if you’ve brought bedrolls, right here will give you a roof.  I’m sorry but my land holdings are a lot more extensive than the buildings to go with it.  Which is why we need that sawmill.  Now, if you have no where else to go for the day, how about pitching in here?”
    Adam cleared his throat.  “I’m going to check on Hoss and Joe.”  He grabbed his jacket from off the log stack and mounted, riding off without another word.
    “You sure this is ok?” Burt’s face was lower than a mid-winter freeze.  “He’s going to give us trouble.”
    “Only if you deserve it,” Ben said with a slight grin.  “I promise.”
    
    Hoss and Joe were taking care of the horses and heading off to help the two cowhands move the cows.  Once Adam made sure they’d be all right, he left again.  And stayed away for two days.  
    He wasn’t sure if Pa would understand, but Pa would do what he pleased anyway.  The anger inside him wasn’t easing, even Joe noticed something unusual in his behavior.
    He spent two nights out in the open under the stars on the shore of Lake Tahoe.  He wasn’t sure there could be a more beautiful spot on earth.  He thought about that first night home.
     “Are you really glad to be home, Adam?”
    He hadn’t told Hoss the truth.  As beautiful as this place was, he wanted to be back in Colleen’s arms.   After two long, sleepless nights he decided to ride back and tell Pa he was moving back east.
     He planned a return home for late enough the next morning so no one would be there.  He needed to be alone in the house to make sure of his own mind first, and because his pa was sure to be sternly disapproving of him staying away so long without leaving word.
    He rode up to the squat little log house shortly before noon.  Home never looked so quiet, so lonely.  An unbidden image of his anger tearing the place apart froze him in the saddle.  Perhaps he had already stayed too long.  H never meant to bring anger back with him.
    "Pa?  Anyone home?"  He jumped down.  He fully expected, and hoped, that no one would answer.
    Inside the house Burt and Marv froze, the strongbox locked between them.
    "Who's that?"  Marv whispered.
    "Must be that son who run off, that one who didn’t like us."
    "Holy cow, we gotta get out of here!"
    "We gotta put this back!"  Burt pulled the strongbox away from Marv and whirled around, half knocking the sitting chair over.
    Adam paused outside the door when he heard the noise and pulled out his gun.  He gripped the door handle and steeled himself before throwing the door open.
    Burt and Marv were at the dining table, frozen in the act of sharing a biscuit, staring at the gun leveled at them.
    "Hello."  Burt said, trying to grin.
    "What are you doing in here?  Pa?!"
    "Mr. Cartwright sent us here for supplies, we saw these biscuits on the table---"
    "He let you come in here - alone?”
    "That's...that's right,"  Marv stammered, unable to take his eyes from the gun.  "We, we're helping build a sawmill, and he---."
    "I know what he hired you to do.  That doesn’t mean you two belong in here, alone.  What supplies he send you to get?”
    "Don't...you believe us, mister?"  Marv's biscuit dropped from his hand.
    "No, I don’t."  Adam cocked the hammer.  He took a quick look outside and shut the door.  "Why don’t you tell the truth this time?"  He stepped toward them, the gun menacing.
    "All right, all right, the truth!"  Burt paused.  "Mr. Cartwright's been so good to us, we thought we'd come back here and put together a dinner for him and his boys.  Why, back east----"
    Adam squeezed the trigger and the bullet zinged through the arm of Burt's shirt, grazing his skin.  
    "Hey, are you crazy?"
    "I don't miss by mistake.  The next time I catch either of you in here without a Cartwright you'll feel it."
    "Come on, Burt."  Marv grabbed Burt's arm and pulled him to the door.
    Adam backed further into the room, using the gun to guide them to the door.  They were startled as the door opened in front of them and Ben walked in, followed by Hoss and Joe.
    "Marv, Burt, what are you....Adam, I'm glad you're home!"  Ben stopped short when he saw the gun.
    "Pa!  Adam's gonna shoot somebody!"
    "Hoss!"  Ben barked over his shoulder.  "Take Joe and start a fire."
    "Sure, Pa."
    "What's going on, Adam?"  Ben placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder.
    Adam replaced the gun, and crossed his arms over his chest.  "Caught these two rifling around in the house.  Gave me a story about needing supplies."
    Ben looked over at them.  "I thought I told you two to knock off for lunch."
    "We did, Mr. Cartwright, but...but then we---"
    "We stopped over here to see if there was anything we could do for you.  I told you once my ma taught me to make a pretty good stew."
    "That's right, you did.  Adam, relax.  These boys have proven to be good workers in the past couple days.  But we sure are glad you’re back to help out.   I’ve got some problems to talk over with you, let’s have these fellows make that lunch while we talk."
    Adam shrugged off Ben's hand.  "I have to tend my horse."  He walked out, slamming the door behind him.
    Ben paused before turning to Burt and Marv.  "I'm sorry, it’s taking him a little longer than I thought.  I’ll...talk to him.  For today, we better keep our meals separate.”
    With respectful nods Burt and Marv left the house.
    
    In the weeks that followed Adam kept everyone too busy to get into any further trouble.  He postponed his decision to leave for Boston until the house was built and their two helpers were long gone. As the scope of the project took shape he reluctantly admitted Marv and Burt were hard workers.  Adam pushed them hard, too, overseeing everything from the quality of the wood to the placement of every stake hole and every nail, and as he lost track of the time, his suspicions against them dissipated.  Adam even began to call Burt and Marv by their names, only occasionally frowning at some distant thought.  Ben tried asking him once where he had been for the two days he was gone, and why, but Adam answered vaguely, leaving the impression the time would come later for talk.  
    Adam pushed harder on the house than the sawmill but both were going up, without even a day in the heat of summer taken off for rest.  Adam finally acknowledged that Marv and Burt could do more than even he expected of them, and he left them alone for days on end working on the sawmill.
    Ben protected his knowledge for as long a time, since checking on the strongbox.  With the framing of the house almost completed, he decided to share the truth with Adam.  

    "Hoss fell out of the treee-ee!"  Joe shouted, giggling.
    Ben smiled from his chair beside the fireplace.  Adam had developed quite a habit, since he didn't see his brothers much during the day, to be the one who tucked them in at night.  Only Hoss, disgruntled, said they were 'winding down', not ‘tucking in’.
    "Huh!" Hoss snorted in return.  "I was just getting down fast."
    "You shoulda seen, Adam, we were trying to get a big pinecone down, you know, for planting, and I threw my stick at it, the one I whittled, only my stick got caught too, and then Hoss, he said he could get it only he couldn't.  And then I stood on him only I still couldn't---"
    "Yah, you wanna see a wiggly worm, Adam, try standing him on your shoulders.  Sheez."
    "So I starts to climb up the tree, Adam, only Hoss jerks me down and then he goes up, ok?  I didn't ask him to, honest, he thought of it himself, and then he got my stick and then he fell!"
    "Jumped!"
    Adam patted Hoss's shoulder.  "Did you get hurt?"
    "Naw, shucks, I just---"
    "He just rolled and rolled."  Joe laughed.  "You shoulda seen him."
    "I sorta cut my hands a little."
    Adam took Hoss's big hands in his.  They were cut and scratched but nothing deep.
    "You wash 'em?"
    "Sure!"
    Ben looked up as Adam came out of the boys' room.  "Hoss get into trouble again?"
    "You think he'd know better than to listen to Joe."
    "Joe's got a charm about him.  Like his ma had."  Ben smiled sadly and went on writing.
    "Who's that to?"  Adam nodded at the paper.
    "Lawyer friend in Sacramento.  Just some odds and ends."  He put the paper down.  "You weren't wrong about Marv and Burt."  He watched but Adam's expression didn't change.  
    Adam poured himself a brandy and offered Ben one but Ben shook his head.  "How did you find out?"
    "The strongbox.  I could tell it had been moved."
    "You checked that same day, didn't you.  Why take so long to tell me?"
    "To give you a chance to simmer down.  And to keep an eye on the fellows myself.  They seem genuinely sorry, Adam.  And scared of you.  I don't think they'll try anything again.  They're basically good but young and away from home for the first time.  They'll learn."
    "Learn what?"  He swallowed the liquor hard and fast.
    "That even without the law there are still rules to follow."
    Adam nodded. "Rules made by the people who own the land."
    "Right."
    Adam put his glass down and sat on the floor, staring at the warm fire.
    "What's bothering you, son?"  Ben waited but Adam didn't answer.  "The girl?"
    "Pa, I think about her..."  His voice trembled.  "Once the framing is done I’m going back.”
    "Back?"  Ben went to the cabinet for his pipe, anything to keep his mind off what he feared most, that Adam wasn’t going to stay after all.  "For....a visit?  That’s only natural, of course, and there are supplies you could get....”
    "Not for a visit, Pa.  To fight for her."
    “I see.”  
    “Leaving here is not what I want, Pa, but I don’t see any way around it.  If I stay, I’ll go crazy.”
    “Well,” Ben stared at his unlit pipe.  "I won’t say letting you go back will be easy.  But I can’t stop you.  This will always be your home.  And when you’re ready for it, one third of the Ponderosa will belong to you.  That will never change.  You might decide....to bring her back here....” he turned away from Adam, unable to believe the words he was saying.
    “Pa, I wish I could tell you....” but Adam turned and left the house quickly.  
    Telling Pa about the baby was something he couldn’t do.  He didn’t feel right with the thought of leaving.  But staying with this torn up feeling inside wasn’t right either.

     A few days later, as every Friday, Ben went to Mormon Station for supplies.  Joe and Hoss were on the second level of the new house, working on the flooring.  Adam glanced up the stairs, wondering if he should check on them.  Since he broke the news about leaving to Pa, he noticed the boys stuck closer to home and acted quieter than usual.  Yet he was sure Pa hadn’t said anything to them.
    Outside the pounding came to a halt.  When the hammering didn't resume Adam put down his pencil.
    Marv poked his head in the door.  "Mr. Cartwright?  Sir?  Could I see you outside for a minute?"
    Adam glanced at the stairs.  He wasn't sure where Burt was, but whatever Marv wanted wouldn’t take long.  "All right."
    Still holding his hammer, Marv led Adam away from the house before he turned and pointed at the area he was working on.  "See, I don't think I'm getting the window frame straight, but it could be my eyes, they act up sometimes."
    Adam studied the window.  "Everything looks straight.  I'll get a leveler---"  
    Marv grabbed his arm.  "You know, me and Burt really appreciate how you give us another chance.  After catching us in the house."
    Adam rubbed the back of his neck.  "You can thank Pa, not me."  He looked down at Marv's hand on his arm.  "I got work to do."
    "I just...want you to understand that we're not accustomed to walking in people's houses like we done.  We thought he’d like to have a meal cooked for him, is all.  I know you been trying to cut us a break, but I can tell you don’t trust us, that’s why I’m telling you this."
    "Look, I told Pa I'd give you another chance but I'm not playing any games.  We both know you were after our strongbox that day."
    Marv took a step backward.  "Oh, yeah?"
    “Now excuse me, I have to get back....”
    Adam turned.  Behind him Marv brought the hammer up.  In the last second he eased the force just a bit before hitting Adam over the head.
    The blow was hard enough.  Adam felt the pain, felt his knees collapsing in the dirt, and he fell forward.  His world blackened in waves but he kept forcing consciousness as he lay still, playing dead.  
    Burt came around the corner to see Marv standing over Adam.
    “Hey Marv, what----”
    “Go get the strongbox and let’s get out of here.”
    Burt ran back inside the old house.  Marv stared at Adam on the ground before backing away and dropping the hammer.
    "Hurry up!"  Marv yelled.
    Burt came running out with the strongbox.  "Did you get him good?"
    "He's out.  I hope I didn’t kill him."
    “So what if you did.  Come on, let’s----”
    "What did you do to my brother?"
    Little Joe.  Adam had to force himself to remain still, another minute yet, just another...if they hurt Joe...
    Joe ran headlong into the two men, kicking and punching.  "You hurt my brother, you hurt my brother!"
    Burt grabbed Joe firmly, pinning his small arms against his body as Marv took the strong box and went for the horses.  Burt shook Joe, his face pinched in an angry grimace.  “You want to be next, huh?!”
    "Burt, ignore him, he's just a kid.  Come on!"
    Burt slapped Little Joe across the face, sending him reeling backward to the ground.  As soon as he turned Adam grabbed Burt's leg, tripping him.  Adam lunged, landing on Burt's chest.  He leaned both hands on Burt's shoulders, pinning him to the ground.
    "I ought to beat you senseless.  Tell Marv to put the strongbox back and get the hell away from here, or you’re not going to live very long."
    Marv shoved one of Pa's guns into Adam's face.
    "Get off him.  Easy.  Now."
    Adam blinked hard.  “Been planning this awhile, huh?”  His head was throbbing, he could barely think straight.  He sat back, moving slow with the gun in his face.  
    Burt stood and dusted off.  
    Joe sprang up off the ground and ran back into the new house.
    “Hey, kid!” Burt turned to follow him.
    "Don't worry about the kid, mount up and let's get out of here!"  Marv yelled.
    Adam dragged himself to his feet.  “What now?”  
    Burt took the gun from Marv and cocked the trigger, relishing an aim at Adam’s head.
    "You're gonna let us ride out of here, no more trouble.  Or your blood's gonna be oozing all over this precious land of yours."
    "That gun will blow up in your hand.   It doesn’t work proper, it’s a collector’s---"
    "Hah!  Like hell.  BACK OFF!”
    Burt held the gun steady on Adam as he mounted up.  The front door of the new house slammed open.
    "Hold it right there!"
    Hoss stood aiming a rifle at the two men now mounted.
    "Hoss, no!" Adam shouted.  As Burt took aim at Hoss Adam leaped.  He grabbed hold of Burt’s shirt just as Burt fired, sending the bullet wide off mark.
    Burt drew back his leg as Adam struggled to pull him off the horse and kicked out, catching Adam in the shoulder.
    "Adam, get back!"  Hoss thundered, more man than boy.  Adam staggered backward from the kick of Burt's boot as Hoss fired the rifle.  The bullet went clean into Burt's gut.
    Burt uttered a simple 'ugh' and fell backward off the horse.
    Adam grabbed Marv and pulled him to the ground.  Joe ran up to Adam and threw his arms around him, and Hoss, trembling with shock, stood next to them, the rifle at half mast.
    Marv scrambled on the ground to Burt.  "Burt, buddy, come on, let's get out of here."
    "Don't bother with him."  Adam said.  "He's dead."
    "Dead!  Dead?  You killed him?"
    "He had it coming.  Now you can leave here fast, but realize that the law will have your name, so the second time you won’t be so lucky.”
    “Sure you want to let him go, Adam?”  Hoss tightened his grip on the rifle.
    “He could’ve killed me.  He didn’t.”
    Marv looked up at the three brothers standing in front of him - the oldest, who couldn't be fooled, the oversized boy with the deadly rifle, the young one with the very old and mean face - and without another word ran for his horse and rode off into oblivion.
    "You okay, Adam?" Hoss said as Adam leaned against him.
    Adam felt the back of his head and winced.  "Just a headache.  We gotta bury him."
    "You go on in the house.  Joe and me can handle it."
    Adam looked at his brothers.  "Yes, I'm sure you can.  You two did good today.  Real good.  That's a lot of growing up in just three years."
    Joe didn't answer.  He was staring at the dead man.  Hoss and Adam exchanged glances.
    "Joe, help me inside, will ya?  I'm not sure I can make it without your help."
    Hoss followed Joe and Adam in, just in case his older brother needed some help explaining why sometimes doing the right thing could feel awful bad.  He needed to hear a little of that himself.
    Joe fetched Adam a cold wet cloth for his head.
    "See, little brother, it wasn't just money in that strongbox we had to fight for.  Money's replaceable.  But the more things people take, the more things they'll want to take.  They have to be stopped in the beginning or you may not be able to stop them at all.  And if they had gotten that strongbox, they would have had themselves all the deeds to all the land of the Ponderosa.  They find one judge to cut in on a sweet deal and Pa could have lost it all."
    "Not all, Adam.”  Hoss pulled Joe close in a bear hug.   “You know what Pa says.  He has all he needs, because of us."
    Adam smiled.  "As long as we stick together, he won't have to worry about that, will he."
    "Right!"  Joe shouted.
    “Adam,” Hoss put a hand on his shoulder.  “Are you gonna be....I mean, your head hurts but are you....from when you came home, will you be all right?  Shoot, I know what I’m trying to say but.....”
    Adam put a cold hand on Hoss’s big sweaty one.  “I know what you’re saying, brother.  When I came back, I didn’t bring all of me along.  I’ll work on it, Hoss.  I know that as a family, if one of us doesn’t do our share, we all lose out.”  He put his arms around both his brothers, surprised to discover even Hoss still trembling.  “I promise you I’ll work on it.  That is if you think you can stand having me back here to stay?”
    “You know it, brother.”  Hoss grinned as Joe laughed.  “It’s all we’ve been wanting, just to be a whole family again.”

    The next day the weather was brisk and the sky a vivid blue.  Ben knew the boys were too fidgety to work because their minds needed some clearing out after what happened the day before.  They understood when Ben told them he'd need to tell Roy what happened and be able to dig up the body, if necessary, but they had done nothing more than defend their land and felt no guilt or remorse.  
    The house was almost framed in, no need for any further hands besides the eight of theirs.  Ben told them they needed a break.  They rode through the pines in back of the house on the trail that led to the top of a cliff overlooking Lake Tahoe.
    There the four of them stood watching the sun cast rays of yellow and gold across the sparkling blue water, the effervescent lake towered by the pillars of green Ponderosa pine.  
    "This is what life is all about, isn't it, Pa?"  Hoss asked quietly.
    "This is what our life is all about."
    "And even the lake is ours, Pa?"  Joe asked.
    "No, son, not the lake.  The lake can never be owned by anyone."
    Adam remembered what two people said not too long ago.  “We were headed for San Francisco but we liked the scenery here so much...”  He had sent them away.   This was worse than what they had done to Burt and Marv.   He had allowed his anger at Colleen to vent against innocent people.  He pulled himself up straight as the other three looked at him.
    "Pa, what you said before.  People that see the beauty in this land should be allowed to hold on to it.  Can you...do you think you and the boys can work for a little while without me?"
    "I expect so, son.  Why?"
    "There's something I have to do over in San Francisco.  When I get back I'll explain everything."  
    Adam rode back down the trail to the house.  He didn't know if he'd ever find Sam and Margaret.  But he wanted to try.  Because in the trying he would learn to forget Colleen.  Preserving the Ponderosa was what mattered.  He was a Cartwright, and he was finally home, where he belonged.


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