This Special Thing called Love.

BY Krystyna Woollon

Ben Cartwright stood up as the woman entered the room. She was tall, thin and had the darkest blue eyes Ben had ever seen. There was an energy about her that made him wonder if the air about her crackled as she passed by. She came and stood in front of him, gave him a stern looking over before extending her hand. He took it in his own and shook it. It took barely seconds but he felt as though his hand was burning when he withdrew it from her grasp.
“Please be seated, Mr Cartwright.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgement and sat down. For a few seconds they sat face to face, looking at one another. A stern handsome man and an intensely earnest woman. She was the first to speak,
“Mr Cartwright, do you know why I am here?”
“No, Madam. I was only told that there was someone here who wished to talk to me about an incident that took place ten years ago.”
“They didn’t tell you what that incident was?”
“No.”
She frowned, just slightly, as though it were an irritation that was not in her power to remove. Like a fly buzzing in a room when one only wanted complete silence.
She looked at him once again with her amazingly blue eyes that suddenly seemed alive with a passion that he had seldom seen before, it made her whole face quite illuminated with beauty.
“My name is Iona Sanderson. I need you to help me with regard to a wagon train that was attacked by comancheros in Arizona ten years ago. The leader of the comancheros was called Luke Right Hand. Do you know him?”
“I’v e heard of him.”
“Do you – Mr Cartwright – do you know anything about that band of comancheros? About that attack in particular?”
“Luke Right Hand was half Commanche Indian and half Dutch. I know that he gathered a group of desperados, Comancheros as they were called, to create as much trouble as he could in Arizona. I did come across a wagon train ten years ago that had been destroyed by him only the previous day.”
“It was in October, 1851 – is that not right?”
Ben nodded. His face was stern from the memories of that incident. He had been travelling with Adam and upon the sight of the remains of that wagon train he had wondered what impression it would have made on the youths mind. He looked at her with a slight frown on his face,
“We found only a handful of survivors. Thankfully a detail of troops were nearby and came to our aid. They were, so far as I know, able to recover from their ordeal.”
“Was – was there a girl there? She would have been three years old with very blonde hair and blue eyes, like mine. She was called Katerina.” Iona licked her lips, and her eyes brightened with the tears that brimmed at her lids, “She was my little sister. We were expecting her to join us at the Fort but…but we never got there because of the raids by the Comancheros. They would not let us travel for so long and by then no one seemed to know her, or where she had gone. Do you know? Can you tell me anything about her at all?”
Ben narrowed his eyes and looked away from her. He scanned the view through the window and forced his mind to travel back in time. There were the wagons, burning and smouldering and with black smoke billowing from the ashes. There had been the dead and dying. There had been the injured, the confused and terrified. There had been several children. Not even the fastest gun could have been gauranteed survival amidst that carnage. He looked back at her,
“Have you not found out the names of any of the survivors that were taken to the Fort?”
“Most of the names. I have met them, spoken with them. They remember my little sister well, and my parents. They told me my parents had died. But they could not recall what had happened to Katerina.”
“Iona, there was a little girl there of that description. It was my own son, Adam, who had found her. He carried her in his arms to me and -,” he paused, “Your parents died in that attack, didn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“What made you think your sister had survived?”
She said nothing for a second or two, then turned those dazzling eyes to him again,
“The people I spoke to remembered them dying, how they had protected her and died. They remembered you and your son. It has taken me ten years to meet all the people from that incident. You were my last hope, because … “ she shook her head and the tears spilled over.
“You said earlier that you had not seen everyone who had survived.”
“That’s right. There was a family I have not been able to locate. And a young couple who died a few years later in Carson City.”
He reached out and took her hand, “I don’t know if this is good news or bad news. Whatever you decide must be your own decision. When Adam brought your sister to me, a woman came and claimed her as her daughter. There was no reason for me to disbelieve her.”
“She was lying,” Iona gasped.
“No one refuted her claim. At the time, they gave us no reason to doubt her.”
Iona said nothing, but buried her face in her hands in mute despair. Then after a moments silence she stood up, and held out her hand again,
“It’s been ten years since I saw my little sister. I always knew she was alive. Something in my heart kept me looking for her, hoping to find her…now I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” Ben said quietly, “But at the time the comancheros were causing so much trouble there and everything was confusion.”
“I know the name of the family and shall continue to look for them. They were the only ones I could never find …perhaps now I know why.”
He watched her as she left the room. A proud, tall woman with a straight back and flaxen hair that fell like a golden curtain to her waist. He sighed and looked back to the view from the window, but just momentarily, all he could see were burning wagons, a pall of black smoke and a blue sky.
Once the door was closed firmly behind her, Iona leaned against it and her body went limp. The proud tilt of her head, the straight back, crumpled. Even as she fell forwards a strong hand gripped her wrist while an arm encircled her waist . She found herself supported firmly and could smell the male smell of him. That masculinity that gave her strength and empowered her to stand tall and proud once again.
“Thank you, I’m alright now,” she said softly, pushing away the hand that held her gently but firmly in its grasp.
“Are you sure? For a moment there I thought you were going to faint.”
A deep strong voice. Should she have expected anything other than that? It belonged to a man who could convey such strength in a person merely by his smell. She turned and looked at him,
“Who are you?”
“I’m Adam Cartwright.” Adam replied with a smile. His eyes, however, indicated a wariness, a curiousity, “Are you sure you are alright?”
“Yes, I’m not prone to such foolishness, it must have been -,” she shrugged and her blue eyes dismissed the weaknesses of other women. Now she looked at him thoughtfully. A slight frown creased the smooth skin of her brow, “Are you the son of the gentleman I have just spoken to – Ben Cartwright?”
“Oh, so you’re the secret assignation my father had in town today. I wondered why he was so insistent on spending an afternoon in town by himself.”
“Which begs the question as to why you are here, Mr Cartwright?”
The piercing blue eyes were fixed on his face now. Adam thought that he had never seen such blue eyes in all his life before; more blue than the sea or the sky or cornflowers. They were hypnotic in their beuty and it took a moment for her question to penetrate his thoughts so that he could unscamble his brain and provide an answer.
“I, also, had to spend an afternoon in town to meet someone. No one half as interesting as my father’s appointee that’s for sure,” Adam smiled and this time his eyes twinkled with sincere appreciation and approval of his father’s secret companion.
Iona turned away and the curtain of her silvery blonde hair swayed, falling like a magnificent fan across her face, thus she turned into someone mystical and mysterious. Adam bit his bottom lip, and glanced over to the door of the other room. His father, he knew, would still be there. He sighed, perhaps this was the way the lady dismissed people, in which case, therefore, he had to consider himself dismissed. He turned to walk away.
“Wait,” she cried, “Please, wait.”
He turned back and looked at her again. She held out her hand towards him,
“My name is Iona Sanderson. Your father – I mean – I wanted to meet your father because he was involved in a wagon train incident when Comanchero’s attacked a wagon train.” Iona looked at him, wondering why she found it hard to talk as coherently as previously. She looked into the dark eyes and knew that he was remembering the time, the place, the details that, perhaps, he would have preferred buried in his memory forever.
“Yes, I remember it well. I was with my father. It was in Arizona territory.”
“And – and do you remember a little girl? You carried her to your father. A little girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes. A woman came and claimed her as her own daughter.”
She was distressed. He could see, even though there were no tears, that the woman’s heart was in turmoil. The dilation of the pupils, the deepening blue of her eyes, told of her anguish. He nodded,
“Yes, that’s right, I remember it well. She was a pretty little girl. I found her….”
“Yes, tell me, please tell me.”
“You must understand that the whole situation was – well – it was chaos. Confusion. The few survivors were terrified that the comanchero’s would return and kill them all. Even when the troopers came…”
“I just want to know what happened to Katerina.”
He looked once more into her face and narrowed his eyes. The he lowered his head and his brow creased,
“You told me yourself, a woman claimed her as her daughter. The child went to her willingly. I remember she held out her arms to the woman.”
“But?”
“But what?” Adam raised his eyebrows, his eyes asking the question that his lips did not.
“Your voice had a ‘but’ in it, like, there was something else on your mind.”
“It was just that I remember thinking it odd that the little girl should be this woman’s child. Firstly because of her colouring, which did not match the woman’s at all. Secondly because…”
“Because?” her hand gripped his so tightly that her nails bit into his flesh and the colour was heightened in her cheeks, Adam pulled his hand away,
“I found the child beneath the body of a man, who had obviously risked his like to save hers. There was a woman by his side who had also died for the same reason. It seemed to me…”
“Adam”
The young man stopped speaking and turned to face his father who now stood only a short distance from them. Then he turned back to the young woman who now proved herself to be as prone to fainting as any of her sex. Adam Cartwright caught her in his arms as she slid to the ground.
************

The door opened slowly, so slowly in fact that Adam had not noticed his father, until Ben had addressed him by name. Now, with Iona Sanderson in his arms, he turned to him, a slight frown on his brow.
“What’s wrong, Pa?”
He spoke as he walked to the bench that was in the wide hallway of the Town Hall and very gently he placed the girl down. Then he turned again, and once more asked his father what was wrong.
“I overheard some of what you were saying to this woman,” Ben said forcibly.
“I never said anything that I intend to retract,” Adam replied, straightening his back as he always did when a confrontation with Ben appeared likely.
“Adam, you can’t be sure that this woman is the child’s sister. You have to think of the ramifications involved in this situation, son.” Ben placed an urgent hand on his son’s elbow, taking him away from the girl’s hearing should she regain consciousness.
“True enough, Pa. If I were in the slightest doubt that she were not the child’s sister then I would have just left the matter under your – prudent – jurisdiction.”
“Then why are you telling her so much? This happened years ago, Adam, that little child is no longer an infant, but a young girl probably with no memory of what happened that day.”
Adam looked at his father long and thoughtfully, then he narrowed his eyes,
“Pa, would you be saying this if it had been Joe? What if Joe had been taken all those years back, and I had spent my life time looking for him? Would you be so willing to throw it all back in my face?”
“That, son,” Ben said with his mouth tight, “is not fair. Not only is it hypothetical, but …,” he bowed his head and bit hit bottom lip before glancing up at his son, who raised his eyebrows questioningly, “Alright, no, I wouldn’t, you know very well we would all be searching for the boy.”
“And so?”
Ben frowned and looked over at the woman on the bench who had stirred slightly and murmured a name. The shimmer of silver and golden hair fell in graceful swathes to the floor, and the woman looked like the Lady of Shalott, as she reclined so gracefully upon the bench. He turned back to Adam and sighed,
“What makes you so certain that she is the child’s sister?”
“You never saw the little girl, did you?”
“Briefly, when you brought her to me. Then the mother … the woman claiming to be her mother … came and took her from your arms.”
“Don’t you remember that I asked you then to make sure that the child was really hers and you said that you would?”
Ben looked at his son and his mind turned back to that awful scene of carnage. The smoking wagons sending up their funeral pall of smoke and the wailing survivors. Everything was chaos. The army had arrived. His son was at his elbow with a child in his arms, a child with blood on her face, golden hair falling across her cheeks, pale and limp. Then the woman had come as Adam was talking to him and he had heard nothing of what he had said, only nodded while he turned in exasperation to the army Sargeant.
“You seemed certain then that there had been a mistake. Why was that?”
“I tried to tell you, Pa. But …”
“I know. Everything was a mess and even when we got to the Fort I could never get to talk to you without some interference.”
“I couldn’t believe the woman was the child’s mother. The child lay beneath the bodies of a man and woman who had died protecting her. A woman with golden blonde hair, Pa. The child had blue eyes. Not just blue, but the same vibrant blue as that young woman over there.”
The two men glanced over at the woman who was now conscious, and looking intently at them both with hope, despair and longing in her eyes.
Iona Sanderson felt the strong grip of the younger man’s fingers upon her arm. The strength of his own arm as it encirlced her body to help raise her up seemed to infuse itself into her bones. She became aware of someone holding a glass of water towards her and she gratefully accepted it with both hands. She sense them both stepping away from her as she sat there, her head bowed, the glass in her hands.
No one spoke a word. Adam stood with his back stiffened with the resolve not to back down to his father, even though his father had put forward the most logical of explanations regarding the child. Ben had his arms folded across his chest, his head bowed, and his dark eyes darkened by the turmoil within himself.
“Thank you,” Iona said quietly.
She looked at them both. The son, the father. There was no mistaking the similarity in features. There was no disguising the similarity in temperment either. She could see with one glance of her blue eyes that there was friction between them.
She stood up and once again it was in such a fluid exquisite movement that both men blinked even though unaware of doing so. She took two steps towards them, paused, and then looked at them both again. Her eyes were like the blue of zircon held up to the light. They pierced into the darker eyes of the father as though drawing from him every ounce of resistance to her will. Ben turned his head away, his brow creased in a deep furrow. Adam met the full force of the electron as it bored into his hazel brown eyes, and it was Iona who turned aside her head as though compliant to his will.
“Mr Cartwright,” she looked once more at Ben and drew herself to her full height, as htough only by doing so could she draw on the courage to challenge him once again, “Mr Cartwright, I have to know about my sister. You must, if you know anything at all, you must tell me. This is the last chance I have to find her. Please. I am begging you. Please tell me anything that you know.”
Adam turned to his father, and looked at him thoughtfully. It struck Adam as strangely confusing that his father, usually so very tender and compassionate where the pleas of a woman were concerned, should be so hard in this particular instance. True, he had put forward a sensible reasoning as to why, but somehow, it just did not seem adequate.
“Madam, I have already told you, I know nothing.” Ben turned to Adam, met the dark gaze of his son’s eyes upon him, and then looked once again at her. In a far gentler voice he said, “But, my son may be able to tell you more than I.”
“Can you, sir?”
Adam let the anger towards his father drain away as the feeling of gratitude flooded through him. He looked at the woman and once again was haunted by the sweet cherubic face of the child who had been in his arms for only a few moments all those years previously. He could see the pure blue of the eyes, the rose of the lips, the blood staining her brow. He remember the silver golden hair so clearly that a shudder ran through his spine.
“Can you tell me what happened to her? Do you know where I could find her?” Iona asked, putting her hand upon his arm and gazing up at him with eyes full of tears.”Whatever you know I shall willilngly pay for it. This is my only, my very last chance to find her. All these years…all these years..” she bowed her head, “I know she won’t remember me. I know that she is no longer the little child I cradled in my arms and played with. I know that she may not wish to know me or change the life she has now. But I must see her before…”
“Before ?” Adam asked quietly, “Before what?”
“Before I die.” Iona said in such a low voice that he had to bend his head to hear the uttered words.
***************
“Here you are, little brother. A cool beer on a warm day. Nuthin’ better.” Hoss settled into a chair, which creaked just a little more than usual, and raised his glass to his lips. He half closed his eyes in anticipation of cold beer sliding down his dry throat.
“You one of those Cartwrights?”
Hoss sighed, lowered his glass and looked up. The man glaring down at him was obviously not in the best of moods. Hoss looked once again at his glass, once again, he sighed. He looked across at Joe,
“Who’s asking?” Joe said coolly, but in that tone of voice that for some reason or another always seemed to heat things up rather than cool things down. Hoss winced. Somehow or other he just knew he wasn’t going to be enjoying that cool bear for some time to come.
“Sanderson…Magnus Sanderson,” came the snapped off reply.

Joe raised his eyebrows. The name meant nothing to him. He reached out to pick up his beer, and looked over at Hoss who shrugged to indicate that the name of the stranger was unknown to him as well.
“Well?” Sanderson raised his head, as though threatening them by the action so that if they did not comply with his request then something unpleasant was sure to come their way.
“Well what?” Joe asked, raising his glass to his lips.
Hoss winced again. He wondered why it was that Joe had these kind of moods when he just courted trouble. He reached out for his glass, perhaps Joe could bandy words this the Sanderson guy for long enough for him to have some of his beer.
“I asked you a question, Mister. Haven’t you got the decency or courage to answer me? Are you one of the Cartwrights?”
He must have thought that Hoss was not a Cartwright for he had turned his body towards Joe and blocked Hoss out completely. Hoss sighed with respect to the fact and raised his glass to his lips,
“And you..” Sanderson snapped, turning round to confront Hoss with such belligerance inhis tone of voice that Hoss immediately put down his glass again,
“I’m Hoss Cartwright,” he replied, “But I don’t think I know you, Mr Sanderson.”
“Perhaps now, but one of you knows my wife. I want to know which one of you it is!”
Joe shrugged and stared at Sanderson over the rim of his glass. Hoss wrinkled his brow in concentration,
“Ain’t never heard of a Mrs Sanderson. Have you, Joe?”
“No,” Joe replied curtly, recalling to mind the letter he had seen on his father’s desk with the bold signature at the bottom, “Never heard of a Mrs Sanderson.”
Sanderson glared from one to the other. He was a tall man, thickset in build and broad shouldered. He clenched his fists. Hoss put his glass back down, untasted, upon the table.
“One of you is lying. I know one of you has an appointment to meet my wife today and I want to know which one of you it is.”
“Neither one of us, Mr Sanderson. Now, please, if you don’t mind, leave us alone to enjoy our drink in peace, huh?” Joe said with that edge to his voice that meant he was beginning to lose his patience.
He raised his glass once again to his lips, as though he expected Sanderson to walk away peaceably. The glass being knocked from his hand and sent flying into the wall with its contents spraying everywhere caught him unawares but not for long. Without a word he was out of his chair and had thrown himself at Sanderson with the speed of a cork popping out of a champagne bottle.
The table was overturned. Hoss’ glass of beer fell with a crash upon the floor spilling its contents into a wide puddle. Men moved away as the two combatants rolled together over the sawdust strewn boards. Women screamed but not too shrilly as they had, over the course of time, become used to such events. A man cursed and kicked at one of them with his boot when the gaming table lurched over and cards and money were toppled to the ground.
Sanderson raised a fist to strike at the young man’s face, but found his clenched hand gripped by a hold even more powerful than his own. He grunted, cursed, and threw Joe aside so that the youth was tossed against the legs of several men who were watching from the counter.
The door swung open and Doctor Paul Martin walked in. Still the three men continued in their struggling together.
“Anyone here by the name of Sanderson?”
Paul’s voice rose above the melee. Hoss stepped back and released his grip. Magnus, feeling his hand free at last, managed to strike out at Joe and caught the lad a glancing blow on the cheek which sent him toppling back against the selfsame legs from which he had just detached himself.
“Magnus Sanderson? Anyone …”
“Here.” Hoss cried, “Here.” His fist curled around the collar of the man still intent on doing bodily harm to Joe.
“Magnus Sanderson?” Paul looked at the mottle faced man writhing before him.
“What do you want?” Magnus asked, his breath coming in short gasps.
“Your wife has been taken ill. I came to get you. She’s asking for you,” Paul said coldly. His tone of voice implied that why she would want to be bothered with the likes of Sanderson was beyond his reasoning. He turned and walked back to the door, then paused to look back at Sanderson, “Are you coming or not?”
“Just who are you anyway?” Sanderson said, wiping blood from his nose, the result of a chance encounter with Joe’s fist.
“Doctor Paul Martin. I have your wife in my infirmary.”
Picking up his hat, stemming blood from his nose, Sanderson walked to the door. He gave Joe a scowl, dark and threatening. As he passed through the doorway, Paul stepped back, looked over at Joe and Hoss,
“You had better come too. Your father and Adam are already there.”

********************

Iona Sanderson looked up as the door opened. The lustre of her blue eyes were less now and the pride with which she had first greeted Ben Cartwright appeared to be missing from the tilt of her chin and the firm mould of her lips. When her husband and two strangers entered the room the pupils of her eyes dilated, and she caught her breath.
Instinctively Adam stepped closer to her side. The only stranger he saw coming through the doorway was the man walking ahead of his brothers and it was he alone who could have caused such a response in the young woman.
“Who are you?” he asked, his hand resting upon his gun handle.
“Steady, Adam. This is Magnus Sanderson, Iona’s husband.” Paul Martin said quietly.
The initial response had been instinctive. Such also was Magnus Sanderson’s reaction equally so. Both men saw someone they disliked and both men knew they had an enemy in the other.
“Iona? What are you doing with these men? Why are they here?”
If he loved her his roughness of tone could have been forgiven or at least overlooked. Niether Ben nor Adam felt that there was any love for the woman in this man, and they looked at one another as though assuring themselves of the other’s agreement. By the door Hoss and Joe looked at the couple before looking at their father and Adam
“Do you need us to stay?” Ben asked Iona, his voice gentle towards her.
“Yes. I…” she paused and looked at Magnus then turned away, “I would prefer that you did, please.”
“Of course she would want you to stay,” Magnus brayed loudly, “She’d want anyone to stay who would go along with this hare brained idea of hers.”
“She’s looking for her sister,” Adam said quietly, “I don’t think there’s anything hare brained about that.”
Paul Martin sighed and shook his head. He pulled off his spectacles wearily and walked between the two men. He took hold of Iona’s hand and turned to Magnus.
“I asked you to come here to help your wife not to cause trouble,” he said with a tone of exasperation in his voice.
“I came to town to find my wife, and now that I’ve found her I’m taking her home with me.” Magnus scowled at the doctor, and put out a hand to thrust him to one side.
“No, Magnus, no. I’m not coming home, not without my sister.” Iona replied with her voice slightly raised in her anxiety.
“Mrs Sanderson,” Paul looked at her and shook his head, “You are a very sick woman. I don’t think your heart will be able to take the strain of this search any longer. It’s time for you to leave your sister in the past, where she belongs, and for you to go home.”
“There, what did I keep telling you?” Magnus crowed, a gloating tone in his words, he grinned at the Cartwrights, “I heard all about you. I heard how you like to interfere and lord it over folk. Well, this is one time you can just quit right here and now. Iona and I…”
“No, Magnus. I am not going home with you,” Iona said once more. “I’m too ill.”
“Mrs Sanderson has agreed to travel to the Ponderosa and stay there until she is strong enough to return home.” Ben informed the glowering baffled Sanderson, who was now turning puce with rage, “As her husband, you know you are welcome to be our guest also.”
Magnus Sanderson said nothing. He stared athis wife. He blue eyes became like chips of ice while he grew colder and colder with rage. With a growl he turned upon his heel and pushed past Joe and Hoss at the doorway. He slammed the door behind him as he strode out onto the broadwalk.
“It seems he doesn’t want to come,” Adam said quietly and he turned to Iona with a amsile, “As soon as you are ready to travel, we’ll leave.”
***********
The night sky was illuminated by millions of stars. The darkness clothed the Ponderosa and its environs like a black velvet shroud. As the Cartwrights sat at the table with their guest all appeared tranquil and at peace. The strained atmosphere that had appeared between Ben and Adam was no longer apparent. With Joe’s merry wisecracks and Hoss’ gentle jokes any hostility had long evaporated. Iona Sanderson was slowly relaxing and the cold veneer was slowly being replaced by the gentle person that was the true Iona.
The meal was almost at an end. Hop Sing had surpassed himself and Iona had complimented him so profusely that he was quite overwhelmed with pleasure. Hoss looked up, frowned and looked at Joe. Joe was spinning out some tale and ignored him. Hoss chewed on his bottom lip and looked at his Pa, but Ben was too busy looking at Iona and thinking…well…quite honestly he was thinking that she was beautiful and reminded him of Inger. Hoss swallowed a lump in his throat and coughed to clear it, but Adam ignored him as he watched his father and wondered what was going on in his father’s mind.
“Shucks, “ Hoss finally exclaimed standing up so abruptly that everything on the table rattled, “Dadburn it, but I smell something burning.”
**********
The sound of a horse galloping into the distance was almost eclipsed by the roar of the flames that had taken hold of the stable wall. Men were already tumbling out of the bunkhouse with blankets and buckets to add their strength and manpower to fighting the fire.
“The horses…” Joe yelled and pointed to the stable doors which were closed, “We’ve got to get the horses out of there.”
Hoss was already putting words to action as he ran to the doors and pulled aside the bar that held them fast. With a swiftness that was both courageous and rash he dashed headlong into the building, promptly followed by Joe and Adam.
It took less than an hour to finally beat the flames into submission. As they surveyed the smoking blackened boards of the partially burned building Ben summoned the men around him
“Any of you see anything suspicious this evening?”
He looked at their faces, the eyes white in soot engrimed faces. There was a shaking of heads and a mumbling of voices, all saying that they had not noticed anything amiss until someone had noticed the flicker of the flames.
“Heard a hoss, Mr Cartwright.” Benny Jackson volunteered after much scratching of head.
“Before or after the fire?” Ben snapped, knowing that he had himself heard a horse leaving the Ponderosa as they had ran into the yard.
“Cain’t rightly say, Mr Cartwright.” Benny looked at the other men from the bunkhouse, all of whom shook their heads and looked rather bemused by events.
“If you can remember anything else, let me know.” Ben sighed, and glanced over at Adam who was wiping his brow with his handkerchief, “Thanks for all your help, boys.”
He watched them break away into little groups of two’s and three’s, in no particular hurry to return to the bunk house as they muttered about their various theories on what caused the fire. Ben walked over to where Adam was standing by the corral fence, gently stroking Sport’s velvety nose,
“Well, what do you make of it all, son?”
“I heard just the one horse, which falls in line with what Benny said,” Adam replied, still stroking his horse as though the action would soothe away her anxieties as well as supply answers to the problem of who started the fire, “It was started from outside, several attempts it seems to me. When it did take hold it went up fast, probably faster than expected by the way he left.”
“Any idea who it could have been?” Ben raised his dark brows but Adam shook his head and said he would go and have another look around the stable perimeters. It was just possible he would be able to pick up some clues given time.

Iona stood up in the regal manner that Benhad now come to anticipate. For a second or two he allowed his eyes to dwell upon her, standing in the glow of the dying fire with the shadows of the evening playing upon her features and figure.
“Was – is –,” she paused and looked at him in the manner of a woman who suddenly realises that the man looking at her finds her attractive. She bowed her head, “The fire?”
“Nothing too serious, Mrs Sanderson. My sons are dealing with it now. A lamp in the stable perhaps.” Ben frowned and glanced at her again, wondering if she were thinking, suspecting, the same person to be responsible as he himself. “Hoss has a wonderful sense of smell and timing. It was a shame that it spoiled the meal.”
She shook her head and at his gesture to sit, she resumed her seat by the fire. The high backed blue velvet chair with its faded velvet suited her. With her silvery blonde hair coiled loosely over her shoulder and her back rigid so that her chin was held high, Ben could easily imagine her as some foreign princess about to bestow upon him, her champion, some request. He turned away as he cold feel the heat of a blush upon his cheeks. A man of his age thinking such things – should be ashamed of himself.
“My husband, Magnus. You didn’t see him about, did you?”
“No, no, not at all.”
“A lamp doesn’t fall in a stable by itself.”
Ben refrained from mentioning that the fire was started outside the stable, he merely shrugged and looked at her once again,
“Do you suspect Magnus then? Do you have reason to suspect him?” Ben asked, sitting in his red chair opposite her and leaning towards her.
“Oh, yes, definitely.” Iona nodded, and looked now at the door as the three younger men walked into the room.
“We got everything cleared up. It’s all safe now, Pa.” Hoss declared and he rubbed his hands together as though the evening were cold, although, in fact, it was extremely warm. He glanced over at the slumbering ashes of the fire and smiled, “Won’t be needing a fire tomorrow, that’s for sure. It looks like being a scorcher out there.”
“So long as it’s only the day that’s scorching and nothing else,” Joe retorted crossly, as he examined a blister on the palm of his hand, “That fire didn’t start by accident and…” he stopped short, coughed and cleared his throat.
“It’s alright, Joe, your fathe and I had already drawn the same conclusion,” Iona said quietly, “We also think that my husband may have had a hand in the matter.”
“That’s rather what I suspected,” Adam muttered, slumping down onto the other chair, “He seems to dislike your search for your sister, or does it go deeper than that?”
“When marriages fail, it often goes deeper than one thing, Adam.” Iona sighed, and she looked thoughtfully at the dark featured man, then she turned her head away, “My husband doesn’t want me to find my sister because of what it entails.”
“What entails what?” Hoss perched himself on the arm of the sofa and frowned, “What do you mean?”
“My parents were very wealthy people, very wealthy. If I find my sister then half of the estate goes to her. I want her to have her share. I want her to have – oh, to have the world if she needed it just so that she would know how much her mother and father loved her. I loved her very much. I want her to know that too, you see.”
“And if you find her, and have to share your estate with her, then your husband won’t be too happy about it, even though your marriage seems…”Adam paused, as though struggling to find the right word.
“Unhappy and just about over?” Iona concluded simply, “Yes, you’re quite right. Magnus is hungry for wealth. He doesn’t understand what it means to share. Nor – to love.” She glanced over at Ben, a covert glance from under long lashes.
Adam Cartwright bowed his head, a slight frown furrowed his brow. For a moment he wondered what had passed between their visitor and his father while he and his brothers had been clearing up after the fire. He was about to speak when Iona stood up,
“I am very tired and if tomorrow is going to be as hot as your son believes it will be, then it is going to be a difficult and tiring day for me. Mr Cartwright, may I ask you once again, will you think over my previous request about my sister? If you do know anything, will you let me know tomorrow morning so that I can continue my search?”
Ben cast a quick look over at Adam and then returned his dark eyes to look into her face. He nodded and then turned away. Satisfied, Iona Sanderson stood up, bade her hosts goodnight and mounted the stairs.
Every man there found themselves watching her as she took each step with the delicate grace of a Queen. Only when she had disappeared from their sight did they relax. Hoss wiped the back of his neck with his bandana,
“Is it my imagination, or is it hot in here?” he muttered.
**********

“Where’s my horse?”
Ben Cartwright stood up so abruptly from his chair at the table that the coffee pot rocked and milk slopped onto the red and white checkered tablecloth.
“What do you mean? Where’s your horse? Where he usually is, of course.”
“No, Sports gone. His stall is empty and there’s no sign of him.” Adam’s eyes flicked towards the stairs, then to his father, “That woman? Iona?”
Joe, halfway down the stairs, promptly did an about turn and hurried to the room that had been allocated to their guest. He returned seconds later, bounding down the stairs in eagerness to convey the news that their guest had vanished. The bed, he announced, had not been slept in.
“Why’d she go like that?” Hoss asked, looking at his father and his eldest brother with curiosity. “Seems odd, after what happened last night.”
“What happened last night?” Ben asked, his cheeks, Adam noticed, reddening slightly.
“Nuthin’, ‘cept the stable nearly burned down and she said herself it was more’n likely her husband did it.”
Joe nodded and grimaced,
“Seems odd …” he muttered.
“Do you think she overheard us talking last night?” Adam asked his father, and raised his chin challengingly as he did so.
Ben frowned, recalling to his mind the conversation between himself and Adam. But surely Iona …Mrs Sanderson he corrected himself … would not have acted so rashly as to take Sport and ride out alone.
“She may have done, but I can’t see how that would have prompted her to take Sport and leave here, especially with her husband out there.”
Adam’s lips thinned perceptibly and he turned on his heel, paused and looked back over his shoulder at them,
“I’ll saddle another horse and try to find her.”
“No, I’ll …” Ben stopped, as the door closed with a firm thud. He sat down at the table and stared down at the plate while his mind one again returned to the discussion between himself and Adam. Had anything been said that could have prompted her to act so rashly?
Adam threw the saddle blanket onto the horse’s back and then reached out for the saddle. As he harnessed the horse he remembered his father telling him about the trooper who had been at the fort at the time of the commanchero raid. The trooper had risen in ranks and become the Commanding Officer. He was the only man at the fort who now remembered anything at all about the raid. Chad Davies. That was the name. Ben had simply stated to his son that Chad Davies, now the Commanding Officer of the fort, was the only man who would know the whereabouts of Katerina.
Even as he slipped the bit between the horse’s teeth Adam wondered how the man would have been the only man to know the child’s whereabouts and why had Ben been so secretive about the fact? As he mounted into the saddle Adam remembered another aspect of the conversation that he had found even more disturbing.
“You’re attracted to her, aren’t you?” he recalled saying to Ben, and his father had shrugged, and shaken his head, “Don’t lie to me, Pa. Don’t lie to yourself either. I’ve eyes, I can see.”
“See what? Something you feel yourself perhaps?”
And they had stood close, face to face, eyes dark and staring into the eyes of the other. He had been the one to look down first, before glancing back again at his father
“You are then, aren’t you?” he had muttered, his voice deeper than usual.
“She’s a very beautiful woman,” Ben replied, “I don’t think many men would not be attracted to her.”
Adam had said nothing, but had turned on his heel, and mounted the stairs to his room.

It was not difficult to follow Sport’s tracks. Adam knew his prints as well as he knew the back of Hoss’ head. Keeping a careful eye on the route taken by Mrs Sanderson Adam urged Hansard forwards at a faster pace.
Iona Sanderson was not the most skilled of riders. Due to her illness she had travelled mainly by buggy, coach or wagon. She had not ridden far when she was asking herself why she had been so stupid as to have chosen Sport as the horse to take her all the way to the Fort which was so far away.
Sport for his part was unused to such a weak rider. He was a proud beast, stubborn in the extreme, and he enjoyed giving his master a hard time every so often. But he knew that when those times came he could rely on a firm ironlike wrist to maintain control over him. The slack way the reins were being held by this rider made him lack confidence, and he began to baulk at taking orders from Iona. He plunged into shrubs, tossed his head, strode out into a long legged gallop and then abruptly slowed to a trot. Eventually he achieved his aim, after deciding to put the brakes on Iona slid from the saddle and landed in an undignified heap by the side of the road. Sport was delighted. He shook his mane, rolled his eyes, and with a toss of his head turned and galloped back home.
For a moment Iona remained where she had fallen. Stunned, dazed and frightened she waited for the faintness to fade and then slowly struggled to sit up. A tall figure approached. Hazy and shrouded in mist all she could discern was that the figure was that of a man. She closed her eyes and put a hand to her brow.
********************

“Well, my lovely,” the curt voice of her husband sounded in her ear and his fingers tightened around her arm like a vice, “Not such a pretty picture now, are we? And where are your new found guardians now, huh? Don’t tell me they left you to travel all alone?”
“Magnus?” her eyes opened wide and she looked into his face with horror. The harsh features that looked down upon her softened only momentarily as though he recalled the love they had once shared and allowed the memory to gentle his anger and hate.
“Magnus – yes, well, what a compliment. At least you remember my name.” Magnus tightened his grip and ignored her cry of pain as he pulled her to her feet, “Now then, enough of this nonsense. You’re coming back to where you belong and that’s final. And, if you ever take it into your pretty head to leave me again I swear I shall take this gun and blow your brains out.”
He pulled the revolver from its holster and clicked back the trigger, and held the barrel to her temple. Iona felt the life and blood within her freeze. Her legs weakened and every limb trembled.
“Put the gun down, Sanderson.”
Stalemate. The two men stood still. Adam Cartwright stood on the rocks with the sun at his back, silhouetted against the day sky, while the gun gleamed in the sun’s rays. Magnus remained with Iona held in one hand and his gun pointed at her temple.
“Fire,” Iona cried, “Fire.”
Adam did not move. He recognised only too well the danger that Iona was in were he to shoot at Magnus now. Magnus grimaced and looked down at his wife aware that he held her life in his hands. He looked over his shoulder at the younger man,
“Fire now and I’ll shoot her dead where she stands.”
“Then you’ll drop with her.” Adam replied with a coldness in his voice that made Iona shudder.
Adam Cartwright looked from husband to wife. Then he returned his gaze to the husband. It was obvious from the way Iona was pulling away from him that she lived in mortal fear and dread of his fulfilling his promise. Now she turned her eyes to Adam and her lips framed the words “Fire. Fire.”
Even as he stood there Adam could not but stop to ponder on what kind of life she had led with him. He held the gun steady at the other man. That a woman would wish her husband dead, and a man would have no qualms upon taking the life of his wife? He was about to speak when Sanderson cast Iona away from him so that she fell heavily upon the groun. He turned to face the younger man and at the same time slipped his revolver into his holster.
“I’m not wasting my life through the likes of her,” he shouted, each word spat out with such hatred that Adam winced, “Shoot me in the back if you’re inclined to, but I don’t intend to stay here and watch this woman make a fool out of you as she did me.”
Adam said no word, but watched as Magnus strode to his horse and without a backward glance threw himself into the saddle and galloped away. Only when it was clearly obvious that he had no intention of returning did Adam put away the gun and go to the assistance of the young woman.
“I thought he was going to kill me,” she whispered as she clung to his arm and looked up into his face. Her luminous blue eyes filled with tears and she saw the pity spring into his face as he looked down upon her. What a beautiful frail creature she was indeed, and as he lifted her very carefully into his arms, Adam Cartwright wondered once again how any man could have such hatred for a wife such as this one.
**********
From the top of the stairs Paul Martin looked down at the three men gathered in the big room. Each one looked up at him with that expectant look on their faces and anxiety in their eyes. He sighed and wondered when they would stop looking upon him like that, as though he were some kind of miracle worker. The only reason they survived the bumps, breaks and bruises they had collected over the years was due to having inherited amazingly thick skulls (in the medical term only), inherited good health and amazing stubbornness in their refusal to surrender to death.
“I’m sorry,” he cleared his throat, “this young lady just should never have gone out riding today. Her constitution is not robust.” He cast a dark eye at Adam as though it were all his fault, “She cannot leave her bed now.”
“For how long?” Joe asked quietly, “I mean, how ill is she?”
“I told you yesterday, she is very ill indeed. I doubt,” he pursed his lips, always the precursor to bad news, “I doubt if she will leave it, except, well, the plain and simple fact is that she is dying and has very little time left.”
The three men looked at one another. Adam bowed his head and sighed heavily before looking over at his father.
“She wanted to see her sister before she died,” he said very quietly.
Ben nodded and was about to speak when the door opened. They all turned as though the one entering was an angel sent to avert the sadness to come. Hoss entered and looked at them, raised his eyebrows and smiled innocently. He raised his hand in which he held a cablegram,
“I got a reply, Pa, from that Commanding Officer in Arizona. It’s all here. The answers to the questions you sent to him.”
Ben nodded and took the cablegram from his son’s hand. He scanned the words upon it and shook his head before handing the slip of paper to Adam. Joe and Hoss crowded around their brother to read the words over his shoulder,
“Well, God certianly works in wondrous ways,” Ben said quietly, “I’ll just go up and show this to Iona.”
“Don’t tire her too much, Ben. Even good news can be emotionally exhausting for a woman in her condition,” Paul cautioned gently.
Ben nodded, took the cablegram from Adam’s hands and began to mount the stairs.
***********
Ben Cartwright paused at the doorway of the guest room and looked at the woman in the bed. Once again he felt that strange constriction of the heart when a man looks upon a woman and recognises something wondrous about them. It had been the same when he had first seen his dear Elizabeth, sweet Inger and Marie. Now he looked down at this sleeping beauty and felt the same turbulance of heart and spirit.
With her long golden hair scattered like ribbons upon the pillow, and the blue eyes closed so that the long lashes formed crescents upon her pale cheekbones, she reminded him once again of those Princesses from fables of long ago. With a quickening heart beat he approached her bed and leaned a little towards her. There remained no movement from her at all, and for an instant he wondered if she were, indeed alive at all.
He touched her hand, very gently, and she sighed , turned towards him and opened her eyes. Her blue eyes were like magnets that sucked in his soul and heart, and he instinctively drew back as though, at the moment of surrender, he realised that he could not willingly permit himself to do so. He glanced down at the cablegram in his hands and pulled a chair towards him, upon this he sat down.
“I’ve heard from the Commanding Officer of the fort in Arizona. He knows where Katerina is and the family that claim to be her parents.”
She looked at him blankly, as though what he was saying was so unexpected that she could not absorb the words. Then she smiled and extended her hand which he took in his own,
“Mr Cartwright? Are we now friends?” she whispered softly.
“Of course. Iona, I only held back from helping you initially because I did not want either yourself or Katerina to be hurt.”
“I understand. But how can Katerina be hurt when she finds out that she is the heiress of a great fortune?” she loosened her hand from his and slipped it back under the covers. “Is she far from here?”
“Only 24 hours away.” Ben said quietly, “Adam and Joe can go and –,” he paused at the furrow in her brow, and waited for her to speak for it was obvious that there was something on her mind, worrying her.
“Could Adam stay? I would like to thank him for saving my life.”
“Very well. I shall ask him to come up. I’ll go and find him and then he can go and find Katerina for you.”
“And, she will really be here tomorrow?” Iona whispered, looking at him intently.
“If her parents permit it and if she wishes it,” Ben replied sternly, “You have to remember she has a right to make that decision, Iona, and it is possible, that she may not want to see you, or acknowledge you as her family.”
“I understand that,” Iona said quietly, and she closed her eyes.
Ben stood up and felt a pang of disappointment touch his heart. Of course, he told himself as he closed the door quietly behind him, she is a young woman and far more likely to be attracted to Adam. He re-read the words on the cablegram as he went downstairs, as though they were the most important things on his mind at that moment.

Adam Cartwright sat down on the chair so recently vacated by his father . He looked at Iona Sanderson thoughtfully and wondered, yet again, how it was that Magnus could hate her so bitterly. She was lovely in appearance, and her illness, surely, should have roused in her husband’s heart a feeling of compassion and protection. He was thinking thus, when she turned to look at him.
What a handsome young man, she thought as she viewed him through her half closed eyes and long lashes. A brave, thoughtful creature willing to put himself in danger for my sake. My dear Sir Galahad, bravest of knights…
“Adam?”
He turned and looked at her. His eyes, thoughtful and pensive, now became alert and intelligent. He looked at her beauty and for a second thought of his father.
“How are you feeling now?” his voice was deeper than usual, perhaps his thoughts had dwelt on feelings of love also?
“Tired. And a little stupid. I should never had taken your horse.”
“Well, that’s true. Sport isn’t a horse for a lady to ride. He’s far too high spirited.”
“I like horses that have spirit in them. It’s a challenge.” She smiled and the blue eyes darkened and kindled bright fires within so that they were almost purple.
“You could have been killed,” Adam replied, turning his head away and ignoring the deep eyes and the cupid bow lips, “Sport threw you, and …”
“He tossed me off his back because Magnus rode straight at us. He’s an intelligent horse, if he had not reared up we would have been down upon the rocks, myself and your horse.”
Adam said nothing to that, but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. An intelligent horse? Oh yes, true enough.
“And did you really intend to ride him all the way to Arizona?” he asked playfully, and she smiled, the light of laughter twinkled in her eyes,
“Only as far as Virginia City. I was going to send a telegraph to the Officer in charge at the fort. I overheard what you and your father were discussing last night and -,” she stopped and lowered her eyelids, before turning her head away from him, “How did you get your horse? Did you say his name was Sport?”
Adam smiled, realising that these questions were asked not really out of interest, but as a diversion to any conversation arising from what she had actually overheard Ben and himself discussing the previous evening. He decided to follow her lead and nodded, as though the subject was one of intense interest to them both.
“Yes. Sport. I got my horse some years ago. An Englishman had arrived in town and had him on a leading rein. When I saw Sport I thought he was the best looking beast I had seen in a long while. I could see he was high spirited and had mettle in him, and that I like in a horse. I could see that he had a good chest so was sound of wind, and he was young and fiesty. And, yes, I noticed that he had an intelligent eye. I asked the Englishman, who happened to be a Lord or something from Billericay, how much he would sell him for as I had taken a liking to him. “And I’ve taken a liking to you, sir,” he said, “So I shall not sell him to you, but challenge you to win him from me.”
“You won him? Was it a card game?”
“Poker.” Adam smiled and his eyes twinkled as he remembered the day. How hot it had been, sitting in the saloon and having to play the best of three hands surrounded by every evil smelling card player, miner, saloon girl, and cowboy in the town…or so it had seemed at the time. “I trounced him. But, I have to admit, he was not a very good poker player.” Adam laughed, “Afterwards he gave me the horse and his papers, and shook my hand, “You’re a real good sport, young ‘un,” he said. So I called the horse Sport in memory of this English Lord, whom I never set eyes upon since.”
“Sport.” She smiled slowly and closed her eyes, “It’s a nice story.”
Adam opened his mouth to speak, but looking down upon her, saw that she was once again asleep. It was hard to believe that she could be dying. He sighed deeply, leaned down, and gently kissed her lips.
The door closed softly behind him. Iona Sanderson smiled. She touched her lips with her fingertips and sighed contentedly.
********************

It seemed oddly appropriate that the day they arrived at the homestead of Mr and Mrs McIntyre’s the heavens gathered up their forces to erupt into a storm the likes of which niether Adam nor Hoss had seen for a very long time.
The white house stood isolated from barns and sheds. It had initially appeared as though painted on a backdrop of green hills, several trees and violent purpling clouds. The sun had shone so brilliantly through the clouds that the white of the walls had glared like a white streak before fading away as the cloud wrapped themselves around the golden orb. It was at the moment of their dismounting that the first clash of thunder erupted and the rain began to fall. By the time they had reached the door they were both soaked to the skin and the driveway was churned into mud.
“Some weather,” Hoss grumbled and raised his hand to bang upon the door.
“Knock louder, Hoss. They may not hear above the racket of the storm,” Adam advised as he glanced up at the burgeoning skies.
‘What if she is not here and this is just a wild goose chase,’ he thought to himself, as he waited with trepidation and irritation, “What if she is here…the news I’m bringing to this family could create a storm that would rival anything thrown at us from up there …” and he once again looked up at the skies.
The door opened as though in haste; as though the one opening it did not want to loose the comfort from within and would close it just as promptly should she so choose.
The brothers turned and looked at her. Hoss removed his hat, as did his brother and the girl smiled. It was, Adam thought, as though they were looking at Iona in miniature. Perhaps, as she would have been twelve years ago. Those same electric blue eyes gazed solemnly up at them, and the silver golden streaked blonde hair fell loosely upon her shoulders and down her back. She regarded them both solemnly,
“Yes? What do you want?”
Thunder crashed above their heads. She remained standing there, passively looking up at them. A voice from within shouted at her to invite the visitors inside. She opened the door wider, and stepped aside for them to enter.
This is it, Adam thought to himself. This is the moment Iona should have been able to see for herself. Now, let the storm break…
A man stood by the side of the fire which burned cheerily in the hearth and nearby was a woman, lighting a lamp in order to brighten the room for the storm had brought a darkness with it.
“Thanks for inviting us in,” Adam ventured to say, taking off his hat and sending water sluicing from it. He frowned, and glanced over at the couple, “I’m sorry – I seem to have brought the weather in with me.”
“Not to be helped,” the man replied cheerfully and stepped forward, he stretched out his hand in welcome, “Andrew McIntyre at your service.”
He had a military bearing and a stern countenance, but his eyes were direct and discerning. He smiled as he took Adam’s hand, and then turned to Hoss, and shook his equally as warmly,
“Come towards the fire and warm yourselves. This storm could be in to last for some time. Joanne, get some coffee for our guests. Please, be seated …” he gestured to the chairs by the hearth and it was then that the brothers noticed that their host had but one arm. The left arm was missing, only the stump just above the elbow remained. His shirt sleeve was pinned neatly over the stump in a way that kept it unobstrustive to an inquisitive eye. “Now then, who might you be and what, may we ask, is the reason for your visit?”
“I’m Adam Cartwright, Mr McIntrye, and this is my brother, Hoss.”
“The Ponderosa Cartwrights?” Lowe said, and he smiled, “Well now, this is quite a privilege, isn’t it, my dear?”
Joanne McIntyre turned towards them and nodded, but her dark eyes looked sharply first at Hoss and then at Adam before she turned away. Adam wondered if she had recognised him, as he, despite the intervening years, had recognised her.
The girl came and stood beside Andrew, leaning against him and looking at the two visitors with the bluest eyes. The flames of the fire danced shadows that made her silver hair gleam and shimmer like a halo around her small and pretty face.
“Mr McIntyre, I have to discuss something that is very personal to yourself and your wife. I would prefer to discuss it without the child being present.”
Adam cleared his throat after speaking as he wondered if his words sounded trite or arrogant. This was a matter that would require as much delicacy as an operation, such a thought immediately caused him to glance at the neatly pinned shirtsleeve.
“I was in the army,” McIntyre said as though realising some unspoken question had been asked by Adam’s brief glance at his missing arm, “got into a fight with Comancheros some years back. The army surgeon did his best, performed a fine operation, but I lost my arm.”
“But you gained a wife and daughter, didn’t you, Papa?”
The girl’s voice was soft and sweet, and she turned her face upwards and was rewarded with a kiss on her cheek from Andrew.
“Yes, Joanne helped nurse me through the worse. When we were both ready for it, I asked her to marry me.”
“Was this Comanchero raid about ten years ago?” Hoss asked gently.
“It was, sir.” Andrew smiled, although his eyes had darkened sombrely,
“A raid on a wagon train?” Adam said quietly.
“No. But I know of the raid you mean because it was the one that brought Joanne and Katy to the Fort. I believe your father and – perhaps yourself –?”
“Yes, my father and I were there just prior to when the troops came by to rescue the wagon train.”
“Yes, I remember meeting your father. I was a sargeant then. Several days after the survivors of the raid had been brought to the safety of the Fort, the Comancheros returned in full force. They stormed the Fort with a vengeance I can tell you. It took two days to finally beat them off and we only managed then because Luke Right Hand was killed.” Andrew leaned towards the fire as though suddenly chilled and needed some warmth, “They’re like any reptile, cut off the head and the body shrivels away. But they had managed to reduce our numbers considerably, I can tell you. Thankfully, I had a good doctor to care for me, and Joanne… God bless her.”
Adam turned as Joanne appeared and put down a tray upon a small side table. She glanced at them nervously, and then looked at Andrew and the child. In a sudden convulsive movement she clasped her hands together against her heart and turned to Adam once again,
“You’ve come about the child, haven’t you? You’ve come about Katy.”

***************
For a moment there was no sound in the room but for Joanne’s weeping. Then Katy moved and ran to her mother’s side . She flung her arms around the woman’s neck and held her close,
“Momma, momma, don’t cry, don’t cry.”
Hoss glanced over at his brother and wondered what Adam was planning to do next. He could see the tension in the thin lips and the pulse that beat at Adam’s temple. He was about to say something when Andrew spoke,
“What’s going on here? Joanne, do you know these men? What have they to do with Katy?”
Adam drew in his breath, and opened his mouth but before he could utter a word, Joanne raised her head and began to speak.
“I recognised him straight away. How could I forget the man who handed me this child? I can remember everything, everything, that happened, that was said that day of the Comanchero attack on the wagon train. I remember you and your father coming to our aid and risking your lives as your fought against them. I shall always -,” she stopped and bowed her head into her hands, struggling to overcome the emotion she felt at that moment.
“Can you tell me what this is all about?” Andrew asked Adam in tones of such bewilderment that Adam and Hoss could only feel the utmost sympathy for the man.
“I think you wife has the right to tell you herself, sir.” Adam replied solemnly, “It’s obviously something -,” he paused and looked at Hoss, raised his eyebrows and indicated to his brother that they withdraw away for the couple to talk together more freely, “something you need to discuss before I add to the story.”
Andrew nodded in agreement and waited until the two brothers had gone to the back of the room before taking hold of his wife’s hands. Katy leaned against her mother, her cheek resting upon the top of her mother’s head, so that silver blond strands of hair mingled with the woman’s chestnut locks.
“Shucks, Adam, this ain’t a very pleasant situation we’ve gotten ourselves into, “ Hoss whispered, clutching his hat against his chest and watching the little family with a tear in his own eyes, “I reckon I’d rather be tackling a stampede of of the meanest minded longhorns this side of Texas than have to tell them about Iona.”
“I agree with you, Hoss. But they have to be told. I just can’t understand why she never mentioned it to her husband in the first place.” Adam replied and glanced towards the window where a flash of lightning scudded across the sky. He gave a wry grimace and raised his eyebrows, “Talking of a stampede, if ever there was the weather to have one, this is it.”
Hoss nodded and once again turned his attention to the little group seated together by the fire.
……….
“I never meant to deceive you, Andrew. I never even thought that I was deceiving you, after all, I loved Katy so much that it seemed perfectly natural to let you assume she was my own daughter. After the raid on the fort, the Commanding Officer arranged for all orphans to be sent to the nearest missionary orphanage to be raised, but I thought …” Joanne reached out and took hold of Katy’s hand and held it close against her cheek, “I thought what was the point of doing that when Katy had a mother, she had me, and wasn’t it much better for people to continue thinking that she was my child rather than send her to an orphanage where she may never have known a proper home at all?”
“I can understand your reasoning, my love, but the fact remains that Katy is not our child.” Andrew spoke as gently as he could, and reached out to draw Katy into the close embrace between Joanne and himself, but the child resisted, and stepped out of the circle while, with a sob, she ran from them into another room.
Hoss raised his eyebrows and shrugged,
“Looks like they’ve got a little maverick loose on their hands now,” he muttered, “I sure hope this is going to turn out alright.”
Adam said nothing but approached the couple who seemed to have run out of words now. Andrew had his arm around Joanne’s shoulders and his head resting against hers, while his eyes watched the door of the room into which Katy had retreated.
“Would you mind very much,” Adam said softly, “If I spoke to Katy or would you prefer to have this matter discussed in her presence?”
They looked uncertainly up at him, then at one another. Joanne shook her head,
“Everything has changed now, ruined and spoiled. It hardly matters what you say or do anymore. I always thought that one day you would come for her. You knew, didn’t you? I saw it on your face, the way you looked at me when your father told you to give her to me.”
“Yes, I knew. But then, I had just pulled her from beneath the bodies of her mother and father. After you left, I had to go back and carry their bodies to the wagons for burial at the fort. There was, to my mind, no doubt as to who really was her mother.”
“Of course there couldn’t have been, her mother was as blonde as she is herself…” Joanne whispered, “And her father had the bluest of eyes…” she shook her head in misery and buried her face in her hands, “I never meant to cause any harm. Do you have to take her away from me?”
“No,” Adam said quietly, “I don’t intend to do anything except tell you, and Katy, about recent developments that could affect her life. What you decide to do with the information is entirely up to you and Andrew.”
“I think,” Andrew stood up and drew himself up straight and tall, “It may be better if we discussed this matter with Katy here, and then, if Mr Cartwright won’t mind, we can decide between us what to do next.”
……..
They looked at Adam like three little starlings in a nest with their wide eyes and partly opened mouths. Apprehensive, waiting with bated breath for what he was about to disclose. As he told them of Iona Sanderson, of the ten year search for her little sister, he noticed how Katy’s eyes had rounded with excitement and Joanne’s had filled with misery. The gentle ties that had been carefully woven around the child to bind her to them were under threat now, and Joanne felt powerless to prevent the inevitiable severence to come.
Adam explained to them about the inheritance that was Katy’s right by law, bequeathed to her by her dead parents and he looked at Joanne and Andrew carefully, but saw not the sudden light of greed and pleasure come into their eyes, but the sadness of knowing that here was yet another something that would draw their child from them.
With great feeling Adam told them that Iona was dying, and that her last wish was to see, if at all possible, her little sister and to have the opportunity to share some time with her before she died. Now he saw on all their faces the sadness of this news, and the burden that this placed on their shoulders. At the end of his discourse Katy stood up, and stepped towards him,
“And is she really my sister?”
“Yes, she is.” Adam replied solemnly.
“Are you sure? Can you be really sure?”
Adam looked at Hoss, and then back at the little girl before placing his hand gently upon her head,
“As soon as I saw you, Katerina, I knew for sure that you were Iona’s sister. When you meet her, you’ll know for sure too.”
“And is that my name? Katerina?”
She looked at them, her blue eyes like the blue of violets, and her cheeks pink with excitement, but it was Joanne who answered as she stood up and came to the childs side,
“Yes, that was the name they called you…Katerina. It was me..who called you Katy.”
Again silence fell like a shroud upon them, then the little girl turned and put her arms around Joanne’s neck,
“Oh mama, I don’t care what my name is, I love you…but I do so want to see my sister. May I?” she looked up into the woman’s face and saw the look of adoration upon it, and nestled into her body like a little bird seeking the comfort of their mothers wings.
*******************

Ben Cartwright pushed the ledger aside and set down the pen. Leaning against the back of the chair he looked thoughtfully at the stairs upon which Paul Martin had recently ascended to the guest bedroom. Ben sighed and stood up to wait for Paul to come down and tell him how Iona was progressing, or not, as the case may prove to be.

Ben bowed his head and looked thoughtfully now at the hearth. It seemed his mind was intent on wandering down the golden path of memories. To reminisce about happy times when he was younger, when he had a golden haired, blue eyed wife who would look up at him adoringly. Oh Inger…his heart sighed, as a picture of his wife floated into his memory and he heard once again that sweet voice with the accent that made him feel so warm inside. Dearest Inger, with your golden hair and eyes as blue as the Nordic seas from which you had come.

It was strange how often his thoughts had turned to Inger since Iona had come into their lives. Iona…with her long sheath of silver blonde hair and the electric blue eyes that could turn violet, or like blue ice in moments. Iona who was such a contradiction of ice and fire.

The stairs creaked and he looked up to watch Paul descend into the room. Ben straightened his back and raised his chin. It was quite obvious that Paul was not going to be the bearer of any good news.

Iona Sanderson could see from the window the Ponderosa pine clad mountains. The blue sky. The fluffy white clouds that floated into the heat of the sun and disappeared as the sun burned them away.

She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. Adam had promised to bring Katerina to her. She had no doubt that the promise would be fulfilled because Adam Cartwright was the kind of man who would make sure that any promise he made would be fulfilled.

So unlike Magnus. She frowned slightly as she began to reminisce about the past, about her parents and…Magnus.

How much she had loved him. He had been tall and handsome. He had spoken to her about love and passion, had aroused in her heart all those feelings that a woman would feel for a man who promised her the moon and the sun. Iona had been used to having everything she desired. Her father was the scion of a very wealthy banking family, and her mother had been wealthy in her own right. Katerina had been born just two years previously, a child to bring joy and love to older parents and a besotted sister. Then Magnus had come and swept her off her feet.

She felt the warmth of a tear as it slipped from the closed eyelids, marking its path from her eyes to her hair. Magnus who had persuaded her to move away from her family. Magnus who had promised her so much and had fulfilled nothing of worth. He had loved her money. Loved her wealth. Yet she had loved him and even now, yes, even now when she thought back to those heady days of their romance she could find her heart growing tender at the memories of him.

She opened her eyes and looked about the room. There was little point in dwelling on the past, after all, only a few days ago Magnus had been prepared to shoot her, and she had called out to Adam Cartwright to kill him, to kill Magnus.

If only things had been different. If he could only have loved her a little then it would not have mattered how much money he had craved or spent. It was really when he had wanted to take Katerina’s share of the inheritance that she had really realised what was Magnus’ over-ruling passion in life.

Katerina. Katerina. The name beat in her brain like a pulse.

…………

Paul Martin bowed his head, then he looked up and looked thoughtfully at his friend, who was waiting patiently by his side. He shook his head, a gesture eloquent enough for Ben sighed and glanced away,

“How long has she got?”

“Hopefully long enough to see her sister. It all depends on how well Adam is managing to persuade them to return here with them.”

Ben said nothing, but glanced up at the stairs before turning to Paul,
“Does she know that she has so little time?”

“I never said anything and she never asked. But I doubt if she doesn’t realise how serious things are for her now.”

“Can I go and see her?”

“I wouldn’t advise it. She needs all her strength now. I gave her a mild sedative to help her to sleep.” Paul replied, and he put a hand on Ben’s arm and shook his head sadly, “I’m sorry, Ben. She’s a lovely young woman, but she should never have undertaken this search all those years ago. It’s taken an immense toll on her health.”

Ben nodded but could say nothing. It crossed his mind that had one of his sons been in the same situation, they also would have done just the same. Yes, any one of them, would have done just the same.

*********
She smiled over at him as he entered the room with the tray in his hands and carefully set it down upon the little table at the bedside.

“For a big man, Mr Cartwright, you are very light on your feet. I hardly heard you coming up the stairs.”

Ben said nothing but smiled, pulled a chair to the side of her bed and sat down,

“Hop Sing insisted you try his chicken broth. I can assure you it is excellent.”
“Are you always so considerate to your guests, Mr Cartwright?” she smiled again at him as he placed a napkin across her lap.

“Oh definitely. In this wild country of ours hospitality is an essential part of our lives. I doubt if I and my sons would have survived had it not been for the kindness of others towards ourselves.” Ben placed the tray before her and handed her the spoon, “Now then, eat up or I will have Hop Sing scolding me to death for the rest of the day.”

She ate slowly, delicately. Ben thought she was rather like a little cat, sampling the food gingerly before daintily picking at it. He watched her thoughtfully, not realising that a small frown had settled upon his brow.

“What are you thinking about, Mr Cartwright?” she asked suddenly, breaking the companionable silence by the words.

“Oh, nothing in particular.”

“I think you were.” Iona smiled, and put down the spoon, “There’s a little frown just between your eyebrows, and that isn’t because you were thinking of nothing.”

Ben nodded in acquiesance and looked at her intently for a moment or two,

“I was just wondering about you, this prolonged search for Katerina, and about Magnus. It’s caused you so much distress, but you have not given way in your determination to find the child, even though she may well be very happy as she is and could well resent your attempts to find her and take her from those she has grown to love as her parents.”

“I know what you mean, Mr Cartwright. I think I am stubborn by nature, or perhaps I have inherited it from my family. They didn’t become wealthy bankers for nothing.” Iona sighed and indicated that she no longer wished to eat any of the soup, so that Ben removed it from her lap to replace it upon the table.

“Mr Cartwright,” Iona looked at him and raised her chin in the familiar way, her eyes flashed and kindled, then she lowered her head and sighed, “I was the only child for many years. I was spoilt and pampered by two devoted loving parents. I had the best education money could buy, and what I wanted, demanded, I always got. I’ve travelled to many great cities in Europe. My parents were always, always willing to give me everything. I was stubborn, as you can see, but I was also selfish and thoughtless.

“My parents had Katerina late in life, but oh, she was so precious to them and to me. I saw for the first time what unconditional love was all about, and it touched me deeply. Then I met Magnus. I was totally besotted by him, and thought myself in love. For the first time in my life, my parents said no to me. I wanted to marry him, I was in love but they said no, he was not the right sort for me, he was not a good man.

“I had been allowed too much for too long in my life. I was so ungrateful for all their loving kindness that I just threw it all in their faces and ran away with him. I never stopped to think what hurt it would cause them. I just thought that they would hate me as much as I thought I hated them. I thought they would be glad to be rid of me. They had Katerina now.

“But, it didn’t take long to realise how right they were about Magnus. He was greedy and as bad as a man could be, and as cruel. When I was expecting our child, I wrote to my parents and told them what had happened. I apologised. I begged them for help.”

Iona paused then, and put her hands to her face. Gently Ben drew her into his arms and held her to him, the smell of her hair, and the warmth of her body were intoxicating, but Ben knew that this was not the time for words of love, so he said nothing, but stroked her hair and held her.

“It was my fault, you see.” Iona whispered, pushing herself away from him, “It was my fault that they were on that wagon train. They knew I needed help, and they came. My poor Mama. She only knew life in the big city. Theatres and balls, soirees and dinner parties. I can’t imagine what or how she managed on that wagon train. Sitting in a wagon, and – and having to deal with all the horrors and dangers of that trip. My father would have persuaded her to go, of course. He loved adventure and would have convinced her it would be a great experience. But they should never, never have paid any attention to my letter, never.”

“But isn’t that why you wrote your letter? Wasn’t it because you wanted them to come to you?” Ben said quietly, holding her hands in his own and feeling them hot and trembling.

“Yes, of course I did. I needed them so much. I wanted them to show me how much they loved me still. But then I heard of their deaths. Katerina gone. The shock and misery were too much. I lost the baby and was very ill, very ill.” Iona shook her head and a curl of long golden hair trickled over her shoudler, “I travelled to the Fort to see their graves, and it was then that I realised that Katerina had not been buried with them. I asked about her and they told me that a little girl answering her description was with a woman, her mother. I said, no, no, it was not her mother. It wasn’t. I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, my dear, you were right.”

“So I knew then that I had to find her, I had to let her know about her mother and father. I had to give her her share of the estate. It was my fault that she had lost so much. I had to find some way to give her something back in return. I had to do something for my parents sake. I owed them so much.”

Ben nodded, and stroked back her hair. Gently he settled her back against the pillows, and sat by her bedside until she had slipped, once again, into sleep.

**************

Joanne stood in the centre of the large room with her husband at her side. Nervously she fingered her bonnet. It was new and it had given her confidence to wear it. With Andrew by her side she felt better able to face what was to come…a challenge that was for sure. Katerina stood just a few paces in front of them, with her long hair braided neatly and blue ribbons, to match her frock, tied in pretty bows that looked like fat butterflies at her waist, which is where the braids ended.
Katerina looked around her and then turned her head to look at the two people she had trusted more than anyone else in her young life. The couple who had claimed to be her parents, but who were nothing of the kind. Joanne had even kept the truth about her, Katerina, from Andrew. In her heart of hearts Katerina wondered how someone who loved another could keep such a thing so secret.
She looked around the room once more and saw Adam watching her. The deep brown eyes of the young man were soft and compassionate as they met her own. She blinked, lowered her head and turned away. At some time during the muddled past few days he had said something to encourage her, and she could remember it clearly for she had repeated it, like a mantra, thoughout their journey to this beautiful home.
“Don’t think of it as the end of something, Katerina, but view it as a fresh start. It’ll be a challenge, but if you love enough, you can meet any challenge head on, and win through.”
“Win through,” she whispered to herself and swallowed the tears that welled up in her throat.
A sound from the stairs and she turned to look towards them. This then, was the time to have courage, and win through.
Iona Sanderson had not wanted to meet her sister as an invalid. By gentle persuasion and insistence she had finally prevailed upon Ben to help her down the stairs so that she could see Katerina without the issues being blurred by sentiment or emotions that could be aroused by her illness. Dressed in one of her favourite gowns she leaned upon his arm now, and paused at the half landing to look down upon the assembled group.
Hoss and Joe stood side by side behind the settee. Adam stood a fraction to the left of the couple who were standing in the centre of a patterned rug. The child stood a little in front of them. Iona swallowed hard, blinked back tears and lowered her head. She could not prevent the sob from passing through her lips, however, and was grateful for the strong arm that supported her the rest of the way towards the couple, and – Katerina.
A mere fraction of a moment ticked by as they looked at one another. The child and the woman. Iona left Bens’ arms and walked towards Katerina, held out a hand which the child took in her own.
“Katerina?” Iona whispered, “Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?”
She shook her head, and blinked. Then she glanced back at Joanne, who stood mute, with tears trickling down her cheeks,
“They call me Katy.”
“It’s a nice name,” Iona smiled, a tear glistened upon her cheek as it trailed its downward course, fell from her face and dropped upon her dove grey gown, leaving a dark mark.
“Not as pretty as Katerina.”
“Perhaps not,” Iona said and then looked up at Joanne and Andrew, “Perhaps it would be better if we sat down and talked about this. We need to put pieces together to assemble the whole picture so that Katerina knows exactly what is her past, and what could be her future.”
They sat, and various items of furniture creaked as they did so. Ben looked over at Adam, but his son remained standing with his eyes lowered, as though by doing so he would not miss a word of what was being said.
Iona told them of their parents, Rudi and Rachel Weiss. She explained how she had eloped with Magnus, and when everything had gone wrong had appealed to her parents for help. Unbeknown to her they had undertaken the hazardous journey to help her, only to die, and for Katerina to vanish.
Now all eyes turned to Joanne, who nervously twisted her fingers round and round in her lap. With head bent low she told her story. She explained how she had started the journey with a husband who was very ill with Tuberculosis. En route he had died, and Mr Weiss had stepped in to assist her, while Mrs Weiss had been an emotional and loving friend upon whom she had shared much time. During that time she had come to know and love Katy. In turn, Katy had grown to know and love her. It was her lap upon which Katy would sit during the evening meals around the campsite and often it was to her that Katy would take her little baby troubles.
Now Joanne fumbled with the clasp of her purse and with a sigh drew out a small leather bound bopk. She looked up at Iona and held the book to her,
“You may not believe what I have said, Miss, but it’s all written down here by Rachel herself.”
There were no words spoken as the book was passed over and Iona looked at the writing and closed her eyes to prevent more tears falling. Joanne continued to explain how, as soon as they realised they were in trouble with Comanchero’s, Rachel had taken her to one side and begged her, should anything happen to them, to take care of Katerina. To keep her safe. She had not mentioned a sister nor any other relative to whom the child could have been delivered for safe keeping.
“It was easy to keep my promise,” Joanne whispered, “I loved the child. I could not abandon her to some orphanage miles from anywhere. Then I met Andrew and he wanted to provide for us both. I knew this would be a fresh start for us all. He was, he is, a good man. I know I deceived him, and Katy, but I just wanted to do what was best for all of us.”
“And you did,” Iona said gently, taking hold of Joanne’s hand in her own, “You did.”
“But – are you going to take her away from us now? We have no legal right to keep her as our own, and we know -,” Joanne paused and looked down at her hands.
Iona had seen the flicker of fear that had passed over the child’s face. It was still there in her eyes. Fear of the unkown, the uncertainty, leaving what had been her security and home for so many years.
“I’ve discussed the matter with Mr Cartwright during the past few days.” Iona said softly, “It all depends on Katerina, of course. My parents left her a great deal of money which she inherits when she is 18 years of age. There is a house in Philadelphia which is hers also, and, should she move there, she would have the best of education. Would you like that, Katerina? Would you like to go to a wonderful school and learn to speak different languages, and about art and music?”
Katerina nodded, then looked at Joanne, then at Andrew. She nodded again before stepping up to Iona and putting her arms around her neck,
“I remember a lady who looked like you. She used to come in my dreams and I thought she was my angel.”
“It must have been Mama,” Iona whispered, as the tears trickled ever faster down her cheeks and she held the child close to her breast.
“When I woke up I saw Mama, I mean, Joanne. She holds me close, she loves me. Andrew loves me too. If I go to the big house, can they come too? I don’t want them to leave me. I love them too much.”
“Mr Cartwright came up with a wonderful solution to this problem, dear Katerina. I think you will be happy with it. Can you guess what it is?” Iona wiped away the tears and looked at Joanne over the top of Katerina’s head, “There is a lawyer in town who will draw up the legal papers for you to adopt Katerina. We have no other relatives here, and even if we did, I could not bear to take Katerina away from those who have loved her and cared for her so loyally. It is your decision, of course. If you do not want to avail yourself of this procedure then Katy must decide for herself where to go and with whom.”
Aam glanced up and met Ben’s dark eyes. They shared a smile before turning away to watch the parties involved in this little drama.
“You can have a fresh start, little Katerina. The world is all before you, my dear little sister, all before you.”
Katerina sighed and smiled. She turned into the open arms of the couple whom she had known as Mama and Pa for so long. Iona nodded and said nothing. There was nothing to say. There was no other solution that could have been more perfect.
Finis.

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