The House that Adam Built

 

By Krystyna

 

 

………..

 

 

The arrangement of living quarters that surrounded the original

trading centre was protected by a pallisade of thick tree trunks and

strong wooden gates which were policed by the men of the settlement.

To Ben Cartwright it was a sign that they had reached the edge of

civilisation as they knew it and beyond was the wilderness where

animals and man would be more than happy to make a feast of them.

 

He directed the horses towards where several other wagons were lined

up and their families were to be seen lingering close to everything

they possessed within them.  These individuals eyed him warily as he

clambered down from the wagon seat and began to unhitch his animals.

 

“Come far?” a woman asked remaining seated on an upturned barrel while

she peeled vegetables for her family meal.

 

“Far enough.” Ben replied sounding surlier than he had intended as he

led the horses to what appeared to be a livery of some kind at the

back of the trading post.

 

The woman resumed her work having met more weary men on this trek from

her homeland than at any time before, she recognised the signs and

wondered where the man’s wife could be; every so often she raised her

eyes to watch what he was doing and when he returned she asked him

again if he had come any great distance.

 

Ben felt disinclined to talk, he was tired, exhausted, and what was

far worse was that this was leading to his losing focus.  The dream of

what was ahead of him was seemingly drifting out of his reach, the

selfish, and he was the first to admit it, but the selfish desire to

pursue the dream had already put himself and his infant son in danger

and now, noticing how primitive everything was in this settlement he

had to accept that going onwards was going to have them face even

greater dangers than ever.

 

He walked to the back of the wagon and disappeared inside, reappearing

a little later with a child in his arms, a boy of just over a year in

age.  Sleepy eyed the infant gazed around him and then thumb in mouth

settled his head upon his father’s shoulder watching everything with

the wariness of an infant  unused to much social contact with people.

Through half closed eyes he glanced from one to the other of them,

noticed the horses, the wagons, the smoke from their fires.   By the

time Ben had reached the Trading Post the child was sound asleep once

more and the whisper trickled through those gathered there that there

was no woman riding with them.

 

Ben purchased what he needed, paid for the feed for the animals and

arranged for their legs and feet to be checked over before the next

leg of the journey.  The Trader took his pipe from his mouth and

narrowed his eyes “You intending to go on from here?”

 

“I am.” Ben replied as he placed the purchases in a box which he

balanced beneath his free arm.

 

“Are you mad?”

 

Ben looked at the other man and frowned “No.  Are  you?”

 

The Trader raised his eyebrows and leaned forward his elbows on the

counter and his face looking concernedly at the infant Ben was

carrying, “You know what you’re riding into out there?”

 

“Something worse than what I’ve already ridden through I imagine.”

 

“Yeah, something far worse.  We ain’t pushed the boundaries that far

yet. This is the last trading post before you reach Joe Robidoux*

trading post  on the Missouri.   Out there -” he pointed with the stem

of his pipe to what Ben assumed lay beyond the thick boundry fence

“are wild animals, wild Indians and wild fur trappers who ain’t gonna

be too obliging’ in seeing you and your family traipsing around the

place. If you go in there you need to go with company.”

 

“You got anyone in mind?” Ben replied patiently as he carefully

counted out the money onto the counter.

 

“Wal, some of those folks in the wagons were thinking of moving on

once summer came. Likely would take  you with them if you asked.”

 

“How long they been here?”

 

“Some came just before the first snows of winter, but didn’t want to

continue until more wagons came.  There have been the odd straggler

since joining up with ‘em.”  he put a plug of fresh tobacco in his

pipe “Some turned back last week to return the way they came.  You

likely to do that?”

 

Ben paused, the child in his arms stirred and he put a hand gently to

the boys back, “No. I don’t intend on going any place other than

onwards.”

 

The trader took the money and passed over some coins in change.  He

nodded “I’ll get someone to check over your horses.”

 

Ben said nothing but collected up the box of purchases and made his

way back to the wagon where the woman was now waiting for him with a

look on her face that made Ben feel uncomfortable. He was not in the

mood for social chit chat, for an exchange of news and views and so

forth.  He wanted to spend the evening resting up, and being with his

son, Adam.

 

“How old is the boy?” she asked as he put the box down and then

carefully settled Adam back into his cot.

 

“Just over a year old.”

 

“Where’s his Ma or ain’t he got one?”

 

Ben swallowed and nodded “He aint’ got one.”

 

“You brung him all this way here without a ma?” she looked at him and

rolled her eyes  before shaking her head and looking over at her camp

fire where her food was now cooking, “You can join us for something to

eat if you like.  My husband and boys would enjoy talking to someone

new, you can tell us what’s going on in the big wide world.”

 

“I don’t know much about the big wide world, Madam.  We’ve been

travelling for a while now, not seen many folk along the way.”

 

“Well, you’re welcome anyway.” she replied and without another word

slowly moved back to her position on the upturned barrel.

 

He didn’t join them and they didn’t pressure him into doing so,

accepting the fact that he had arrived weary and as such would be more

talkative in the morning when a fresh new day would have dawned.

 

Adam woke and rubbed his eyes and sat up, saw his father and smiled a

sleepy hello.  Ben leaned forward and tousled the boys black curls

“Alright then, son?”

 

The child stretched out his arms and was instantly gathered up into

his fathers embrace, safe and warm, the greatest protection a child

ever could need.  Ben passed him some food and helped him with the

spoon as he ate his own meal by his side.  The  boy was quiet, perhaps

too quiet, and Ben blamed himself for that as well.  Too many weeks

travelling, months on their own.  He stared into the now empty bowl

and tried to remember what Elizabeth looked like and the conversations

they had shared together about this so called glorious dream.  What

innocent ignorant fools they were, as though they really could travel

from Boston to their paradise so easily and as a result what kind of

life had he condemned his boy to?

 

He opened a small trunk and took from it a music box which he wound up

before raising its lid. The tinny music flowed and the child stopped

to listen, his head to one side, the dark eyes fixed to the cherubs,

he reached out and Ben smiled and gently reminded him he was not to

touch it and was given something to eat instead.  Now Ben picked up

the picture he had of his wife, carefully wrapped between some paper

so that it didn’t crease he carefully set it down in front of them.

“See, Adam , this is your Mama.”

 

The boy looked at the picture and then at Ben, he nodded his dark head

and smiled, dimples came to his cheeks and his teeth gleamed white

like tiny seed pearls, he reached out to touch and again Ben removed

his fingers and told him no, some things he had to learn not to touch.

 

Then Ben started to tell him the story about the lady in the picture

and how she had told him to go in search of their dream.  He told Adam

that was why they had journeyed so far, for so long, and one day the

dream would end when they found the right place to stop and build

their house, their home.  He smiled down at the child “House, Adam?”

 

“House,” the boy looked up and smiled, just a  baby, with limited

speech but he could say house even if he didn’t know what a house was

then.

 

“We’ll build a house among the trees,” Ben said quietly stroking the

boys soft curls, “Tall trees, your Ma said you would be tall, standing

among tall trees …”

 

“Trees.” the infant clapped his hands “Trees.”

 

Ben smiled and nodded, he knew he had been selfish to have brought an

infant all this way, alone, he’d been arrogant in assuming that it

would be easy just because it had been his particular dream. As he

looked at his son his heart swelled with pride and love, and he sighed

“I love you, son.”

 

He whispered the words just as the music was tinkling to an end and

when he looked up again he saw the face of a man staring in at him, a

grin on his whiskery chin “Came to invite you round for some hot

drinks, seeing you ain’t got a fire going yet.”

 

Ben braced himself and nodded, thanked the man and leaned forward to

pick up his son, it was time to meet the neighbours.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

The moon had finally slipped away behind clouds obscuring within

deeper shadows the horses and wagon that had been concealed as much as

possible within the shrubs and trees.  Mocassined feet padded their

way close to this covert and the sounds of men breathing heavily after

exertion sounded nearer than they actually had been.

 

Ben Cartwright relaxed just a little, his rifle still at the ready in

case any errant straggler came by and was curious enough or alert

enough to see, notice, that there were strangers close that would lead

to someone dying that night.  Ben tried to control his breathing so

that no sound would be heard by those men who had hastened by, keeping

to the shadows and holding their coup sticks in one hand and bloodied

tomahawks in the other.

 

Finally when not a sound could  be heard only the rustling of leaves

he allowed himself to relax and thank God that even the horses had

remained invisible to those men who were endowed with eyes and

instincts as sharp as a cats.  He turned to a particular clump of

shrubbery and carefully raised a bough to expose the child hidden

behind it, with a finger to his lips he nodded and the child gave a

tentative smile before crawling out towards his father, putting his

arms around Ben’s neck and holding him close.

 

Adam Cartwright was nearly four years old now and he knew the danger

of speaking or even breathing loudly at those times when Ben would

hide him away and put finger to mouth and say ‘Not a sound, Adam.’

He had learned that danger existed everywhere and caution was needed

always, and if he ever wondered why his life was so bound up with fear

he had only to look at his father and  know it was also bound up with

love.

 

After their brief embrace Ben checked the horses and wagon, then

lifted the boy inside and told him to sleep, in a few days they should

reach some settlement and safety.  Adam nodded and pulled a blanket

over himself.  He closed his eyes and tried to sleep knowing that his

father would be sitting, alone, with his eyes ever watchful and the

rifle close to one hand and a knife in the other.

 

He wanted to sleep.  He wanted to shut out the fear and the worry

because the strange life this journey forced upon them created

hardships beyond number.  Every nerve in his little body was strained

to hear some warning sounds of danger, something that would save them

from the fate of the wagons they had travelled with some while back.

The memory of the brutal attack upon them still gave him nightmares,

there were sights and sounds that took place that day that still

resonated even after some time had passed.

 

The survivors had struggled along together for a while before

gradually drifting apart. Where there had been safety in numbers

previously now seemed a pointless reason for them to co-exist together

and Ben had turned away in the direction of the river as the others

parted to go in a direction of their own choosing.

 

Still more recently had been the time he had gone down to the river

near where Ben had stopped and due to exhaustion had fallen asleep.

Adam had taken himself off to catch a fish after all he had seen Pa do

it, but instead of catching anything he had been the one caught as

some wily Indian caught him up by the foot and proceeded to drag him

along the shore.

 

He had kicked with his free foot and struggled to grab hold of

anything he could reach as he was hauled along like an old sack of

meal, dragged along so that stones and pebbles, shrubs and tussocks of

grass tore at his clothes and flesh.

 

The Indian had dragged him along by the foot for some distance before

Ben had reached him, running along the shore line and throwing himself

bodily upon the man totally ignoring the fact that where there was one

Indian perhaps there could have been several more.  The fight had been

short and brief for fear for his son gave Ben a desperation that the

other man lacked and by the time he had realised the white man had the

better of him, it was too late.  Ben had left the body in the water

and then turned to swoop up his son and take him to safety.

 

Ben had disciplined him severely afterwards, and then explained the

importance of obedience, the necessity of caution.   The lesson had

been learned, Adam never strayed again and kept his mouth shut, his

eyes open and his senses on the alert - always.

 

As he tried to sleep he felt the wagon lurch to one side as it would

when someone entered it, and he opened his eyes to look at Ben who had

clambered in and was now preparing to sleep alongside him.  “Is it

alright, Pa?” he whispered.

 

“I’m putting my trust in God, son,” Ben replied quietly, “I am so

tired that if I don’t sleep now I could do more harm than good later

should it be necessary to -” he yawned and closed his eyes, “Were you

frightened, boy?”

 

Adam was never sure what to say when his Pa asked this kind of

question, he didn’t want his Pa to be worried if he had admitted that

he had been, and he didn’t want to tell a lie.  He decided it was

wiser to say nothing instead he said “We ain’t gonna build a house

here, are we, Pa?”

 

“No, son.  This isn’t the right place for us, yet.”

 

“Will it be soon?”

 

“I don’t know.  Perhaps.”  Ben drew the boy close to him, and could

feel the sharp edges of the boys bones as he did so.  He was too thin,

Ben lamented within himself, far too thin, but what was there to eat

in this wilderness, he couldn’t hunt with his gun for fear the red men

would hear and follow the sound of the shot.  He sighed and closed his

eyes, with his son’s head resting upon his chest.

 

“Pa?”

 

“Yes, son?”

 

“When we get to our special place I’m gonna draw you a big house, and

then we can build it, can’t we?”

 

“You’ll draw me a big house, huh?” Ben smiled slowly and gently ran

his fingers through the boys black curls, “How big?”

 

“Everso big. With windows.”

 

“Oh, I see, and will it have a lot of rooms?”

 

“Yep, and big steps up in the house like that  house we saw where we

stayed once before.”

 

Ben frowned, and nodded in recollection of the cabin that had provided

some shelter and hospitality some weeks back.  It reminded him that

the man of the house had warned him to get to the next settlement

before the snows came, they were going to come early that year.

“That house didn’t  have stairs, Adam.” he said drowsily.

 

“Our house will…” Adam replied nestling in closer, and he yawned, “and

a big fireplace to keep us warm.”

 

Ben sighed, and his eyes grew heavier and then closed altogether.  He

didn’t hear a sound, although he snored loud enough for a whole tribe

of Indians to hear him and have scalped him a hundred times over had

they heard.

 

When he woke up Adam was sleeping in his blanket and for a while Ben

studied him with the anxious care of any parent, he noted how pale the

child was, how thin and how the shaggy black hair seemed to make him

appear thinner and paler.  He wondered if this journey would ever end,

if there ever would  be a time when Adam would  be able to draw his

big house and if they would ever get to build it.

 

The sky was blue but the wind was cold, reminding him of the warning

the man had given him some time ago about the snow.  He raised his

head and snuffed the air, and knew that he had to move on, there was

no time for dallying now.

 

They drank water and ate pemmican and jerky, Adam was lifted up and

onto the wagon seat while Ben led out the horses who had eaten well on

fresh grass.  It seemed to Ben that the most important thing now was

to reach the settlement before the lone wagon with its meagre

protection would fall foul of any marauder who should ride by.

 

It took another full day before the settlement finally hove into view

and they were trundling their way through the gates which were closed

behind them.   It was a busy large place, bustling its way into a

township and Ben soon found himself some work, and lodgings for him

and Adam to stay.   Within a week the snows arrived and would seal

them in for the coming months of winter.

 

“Look Pa,” Adam held up a drawing on some paper that had been provided

him along with wax crayons  for he was proving quite a favourite among

the ladies in the town. “Look, I drawed you a house.”

 

“You drew me a house, son.” Ben corrected him and smiled, placing his

hand on the boys head and taking the paper in his other hand, “So you

have, and a big house it is too.”

 

He smoothed it out and listened as Adam pointed out the windows one

for each room, and there was a door to the big room.  “Where are the

stairs, son?”

 

“Inside.” came the prompt answer, “I ain’t drawed ‘em yet, cos you

can’t see ‘em.”

 

“Hmm, well, we’re going to need stairs to get to those rooms up here,

aren’t we?”

 

Adam sighed and nodded,  and observed his drawing seriously, Ben

stroked his chin “Is this house being built with bricks, son?”

 

“No, sir, with trees.” came the prompt reply.

 

“Looks like we’ll be in for a busy time then.” Ben smiled and

carefully folded the drawing away, “Keep it safe, we may need it some

other time yet.”

 

Adam nodded, he wanted to keep it safe in the trunk where the music

box and the picture of his Mama was kept, but he knew that his Pa

didn’t like him touching those things anymore so he put the picture

safely away in between the pages of a book.

 

That night he couldn’t sleep for worrying about those stairs …

 

 

Chapter 3

 

They had left the wilderness and entered a realm of civilisation, for

just a short while they were rested from the fears of Indian attacks,

starvation and the miserable existence of man and child fighting the

elements.  Within the oasis of this bustling little township Ben had

found himself facing a different kind of menace, one he had thought to

have left behind long ago in Boston.  Profit loving greedy men who

thought nothing of using man’s basic inferiorities to harm others who

they were led to think against them.

 

But Ben had also found within this maelstrom of greed, pride and

violence, a woman whom he could relate to and love.  A young woman

with a lilt of an accent in her voice, clear blue eyes and golden

hair, someone who loved him and his son as much as they loved her.

 

“You do understand what I’m telling you now, Adam, don’t you?” Ben

said seriously as he sat beside his sons bedside one evening.

 

“Sure, Pa. I understand.” Adam replied looking intently at the pages

of a book he was holding and trying not to catch his father’s eyes.

 

“Now, Adam pay attention.” Ben gently lowered the book down and forced

Adam to look at him by taking hold of his face in his hands, brown

eyes gazed solemnly back at him, “So, what do you understand?  Tell

me?”

 

Adam frowned a little crinkle like a horseshoe appeared between his

eyebrows “You said you’ em getting married.”

 

“That’s right.” Ben nodded but looked slightly worried “Aren’t you

going to ask who I was getting married to?”

 

Adam sighed and then shrugged slightly “I don’t know what getting

married is?  You ain’t told me that yet?  Is it good?”

 

Ben trawled through his memory for a moment or two and then laughed

softly, tweaked his son’s nose “Getting married means I am going to

get myself a wife, a lady whom I love is going to come along and be

with us … together, Adam, we’ll be together, like a family.  She will

be  your mother.”

 

“My mother?” Adam breathed softly almost a sigh and his mind thought

immediately of the lady in the picture. “You mean I’ll have a Ma like

those other kids?”

 

Ben nodded, “That’s right, you’ll have a Ma like everyone else.”

 

Adam settled back against the pillows and stared at Ben thoughtfully.

It was a strange thing that they had never mentioned words like

marriage, wife or such before.  It was like opening a book with lots

of words he didn’t comprehend.  He knew the position of certain stars

and galaxies because Ben had taken time to show him them on the

journey, pointing them out and talking about the importance of knowing

their positions when on a ship.  He even knew more about ships as Ben

talked about them a lot as well…ratlines and sails, taffrails and

hawsers.  He could never remember Ben spending any time talking about

or referring to marriage and a wife, so something, or someone, in

their lives now had made a difference and it involved a lady.

 

“Pa, I don’t want you marriaging a lady.”

 

“Getting married to a lady  you mean.” Ben smiled slowly “Why not?”

 

“Because I only like Inger, and if someone is coming along with us

then I want it to be Inger.”

 

Ben laughed aloud, he threw back his head and laughed so that his son

thought his father had gone slightly crazy and if this was what being

married was all about then perhaps his Pa should think about it some

more and not do it, whatever it was.  Ben shook his head and calmed

down, all that rambling speech he had prepared and spilled out to

prepare Adam for his marriage had obviously meant nothing but

confusion to the lad. Such a bright boy and his naivete had caused

total befuddlement.

 

“How about if Inger came along with us when we leave here next week,

huh?”  Ben smiled and leaned closer “Would you like to have Inger as

your Ma?”

 

“My very own Ma?” Adam’s eyes widened and he even blushed a little “My Ma?”

 

“Sure?  Wouldn’t you like that?”

 

“I sure would, Pa, I sure would.” he could barely contain his

excitement, there was a bubble of joy rolling about inside his stomach

bursting to get out and he jumped upright and threw his arms about his

Pa’s neck “She’s a real fine lady, Pa.”

 

“So I remember you telling me a long time ago, son.” Ben held him

close, so close that he rolled off the chair and the pair of them

landed on the floor with a thud, laughing even though they bumped

heads.

 

Later in the calm of the evening when Ben had gone to see his future

wife, Adam settled down beneath the blankets and stared at the

ceiling.  Inger would be his Ma, fancy that, his Ma.  It was something

he had often pondered over, seeing for himself at various brief times

in his life how some men and women were always together and the woman

would care for the children because she was their Ma.  He had seen

them, the way they washed the children and combed their hair, dropped

kisses on their brows, smoothed away their hurts when they had fallen.

 He had watched as they read stories or sang songs to them, or just

sat by their sides and held their hands in silence, a silence that

needed no words between them.

 

He had wished at times so hard that he had a Ma of his very own,

someone who would have held him in her lap and soothed away his hurts.

Pa was kind and gentle, but it was different, he knew it was different

because he had seen it, and even now, briefly he had known it, with

Inger.

 

He drew in his breath and closed his eyes, that just about messed

things up some, he told himself, he’d have to draw another house to

fit Inger as well.

 

……………..

 

Mr Philip Shrieber liked to keep himself to himself.  He had a small

wagon drawn by four good horses and no woman or child to keep him

company.  He disliked children for the noise they created and the way

they were so unpredictable.  He had attached himself to the small

wagon train that was going to Ash Hollow and had sought privacy

immediately.  The neighbourly overtures of the women he had brushed

aside firmly and politely, with the result that after a few weeks his

isolation was not solely due to his own reticence in seeking society,

but came because no one could be bothered about him anymore.

 

Then there was all that fuss over that woman having a baby, and it’s

consequent squalling.  He always kept his wagon away from the one that

belonged to the Cartwright family because he couldn’t bear the noise

of the woman singing lullabies and the baby crying.  Everything about

the family seemed noisy to Philip, from the man’s deep voice that

sounded like a fog horn and was heard voicing his opinions at any

opportunity he could grab, to the woman trilling like a lark in that

foreign voice of hers and the baby crying and the boy, that Adam,

always asking questions.

 

Always turning up just when you thought it was safe to shave or change

your underwear or burn your dinner “What you doing, Mr Shreeber?”

 

Adam did not realise for a moment that he was a thorn in the flesh as

far as Philip Shrieber was concerned.  The man was merely a man who

was there and afforded him some interest.  Later in life he would have

said in his own deep voice ‘The man intrigues me.’ but he didn’t

understand the meaning of those words or feelings at his age of five.

 

One bright morning when there was an enforced delay Shrieber brought

out his foldaway desk and inks and pens and papers.  He unrolled the

papers and examined them thoughtfully, before pulling up a chair and

looking at the drawings upon them with a concentration that he gave

most things of importance to him.   He was an architect and had been

asked to design some buildings for the town to which he was

travelling.  His one hope was to get there in one piece without going

mad and killing any of his fellow passengers in the process.  Not that

he was a mad man, just that he was a perfectionist and had suffered

his adversities in life, so was on what Ben would call ‘a short rein’.

 

“What you doing, Mr Shreeber?”

 

He swallowed, gulped and inhaled deep and long before raising his eyes

to look at the boy who looked at him with a smile on his freckled

face.  Before he could say a word the boy stepped closer and looked

down at the drawings “That’s a house.”

 

“Yes, it is -” Philip replied drawing himself  upright, “It’s going to

be the house of the -”

 

“I’m a drawer, I drewed a house too.”

 

“What exactly are you talking about, little boy?”  he shook his head,

“You drew a house?”

 

“Yes, I drewed a house.” Adam nodded his dimples deep in his cheeks

and the brown eyes bright with intelligence and interest “But it don’t

look like that ‘un.”

 

“Ah, your grammar is appalling.” Philip groaned and shook his head

“This drawing is the correct way to design a house.  You see -” he

picked up his pen and beckoned the boy closer, then began to indicate

the lines of the house, its proportions and layout, the position of

windows and doors, even stairs.

 

“This is just the exterior,” he said and began to roll it up in order

to display the drawing that came next, “This is the design of the

house’s layout inside.  You see here ?  Stairs, and a fireplace, and

here there’s a door to -”

 

“It doesn’t look like a house.”

 

“I assure you it is.” he sighed, why was he wasting time explaining

such things to a child.

 

“But how do I get stairs in my house? And its gotta be big becos

there’s Inger and Hoss living in it as well as me and Pa now.”

 

Philip shook his head “What exactly are you talking about, boy?”

 

“My house, I drawed - drewed - a house to live in when we get to where

we’re going and we’re gonna built it with the trees with big windows

and stairs.”

 

Philip sat down and rolled up his plans, he pulled out some paper and

set it out on the table “Show me.”

 

The boy looked at him warily at first and then began to draw the house

on the paper, the typical house one would expect a five year old to

draw, some squares within a square and an oblong for a porch.  Then

the pen stopped and the boy looked at him “Show me how to draw it

proper so I can show Pa what it will be like inside?”

 

So Philip the Architect drew a design of what he thought the house

would look like inside, although the boy would say ‘No, not that,

don’t like that.’ or ‘No, something bigger than that.’ and when Philip

shook his head and said “Who exactly is going to build this thing?”

the boy smiled and said “Me an’ Pa.”

 

It was time to move on, the camp was breaking up with fires being

extinguished and children being gathered up.  Inger called to Adam who

ran towards her and Philip watched him go and then glanced down at the

drawing he had sketched down of Adams house.  Of course, he told

himself, it’ll never be built.  He rolled it up carefully along with

his own designs and slipped them into a long cylinder which was stowed

carefully away in his wagon.

 

That night Adam told his Pa and Ma about the house he had drawn with

the help of Mr Shrieber, the ‘arky-teck‘. It had stairs and a big

fireplace, the stairs led up to a long landing with lots of bedrooms,

after all, it wasn’t just for Pa and himself now, he had to think of

Inger and Hoss.

 

Philip Shrieber often wondered about the little boy who had drawn the

house which remained rolled up in among others designed on that ill

fated trip.  He could remember him well, an intelligent boy who

suffered the loss of his mother during an Indian attack at  the place

called Ash Hollow.  He wondered if the family had ever found their

paradise and if the house had ever been built.

 

Chapter 4

 

There is a saying in the world that some events can turn a mans world

upside down.  So it was for Ben Cartwright, and if his world was

rocked by Inger’s death, so also was Adams for his father’s grief was

something quite beyond his comprehension.

 

In his short life span of just over six years Adam had known his

father as a man of courage, integrity and if at times he was a trifle

morose and short tempered, he was also gentle and generous, good

humoured and loving.  During the time they had Inger, shared her love

together, Ben had laughed more, sang and joked, teased and loved in a

way Adam had never known him previously.  It had been a wonderful

interlude in their lives.

 

It seemed now that Ben locked himself away from his son.  If he wept

for Inger and his loss then he wept alone beneath the stars at night

as he gazed up at them and wondered why he had to suffer such a loss a

second time.   During the day he performed his duties in near silence,

his face drawn and solemn, his eyes dark and emotionless, except that

there were emotions, all the negative ones.

 

When Adam tried to slip his hand into that of his fathers as they sat

side by side on the wagon seat, Ben would pretend not to notice it; if

the boy leaned against his arm then Ben would move slightly away so

that eventually Adam realised that his father preferred to be shut

off, lost behind his grief to such an extent he didn’t even realise

that he had placed a double burden upon his little boy’s shoulders.

 

There was Hoss to be cared for too.  Ben would sit with the baby in

his arms just staring down at him as though by doing so he could find

Inger.  During the day it was Adam’s responsibility to care for the

baby and he did so, often with tears running down his face as he

thought of ‘Ma’.  When the wagons stopped for a halt some woman or

other would come to check on the boys, to nurse the baby, change it’s

diaper and make sure there was food for Adam, and Ben.

 

It was a time of learning for Adam, learning that his father was after

all, merely human and a suffering one at that, it was a lesson he

found hard to bear for he was, after all, only a child himself.

 

He stayed during the breaks with the women who had children of their

own, hung close around them for the scraps of affection and kindly

words that fell to him, until Ben would bark “Adam. Time to go.”

 

It was hard.  It was harder than anything he had experienced in his

life. He had no understanding of this adult world where his father

could grieve to such a depth that nothing else seemed to matter, not

him, not Hoss, nothing.  He didn’t understand that Ben  felt so bereft

that he felt numb, unable to think beyond the moment,  that the

existence he was forced into now, when his heart was torn in two left

him only seeing an endless journey to nowhere and nothing meant

anything anymore.

 

Hadn’t it been hard enough without Elizabeth?  And when a small voice

whispered in reply “But there was Adam…” he ignored it.  Why did it

have to be so hard now, without Inger, couldn’t she have been spared

for him? And a small voice whispered “You’ve two sons to comfort now.”

but he ignored that as well.

 

………………..

 

 

Hoss Cartwright dribbled milk and blew bubbles, his blue eyes followed

his brother’s finger until Adam tapped him gently on the nose and said

“Boo.”

 

Mrs Penrose smiled and tapped Hoss on the back until the baby obliged

with a loud burp, which made Adam laugh.  “That was a loud one, Hoss.”

 

“He’s a big lad, your brother.” Mrs Penrose said as she stood up to

carry him over to the wagon where the baby was to be settled for the

night.

 

“I know. I told Ma he was a big ‘un. Pa said he was called Erik, but

my Uncle Gunther said to call him Hoss, because that means -”

 

“Adam.” Bens voice came from the shadows, “That’s enough now.  Get

yourself to your bed.”

 

Adam gulped  back the words and blinked fast, with bowed head and the

hope that Mrs Penrose hadn’t seen the tears in his eyes he scrambled

into the back of the wagon and then turned to take the baby from her.

Hoss looked up at him and smiled his sweet gummy smile, his bare arm

reached from the shawl while his fingers grabbed for his brother’s

dark curls.  “Thank you, Mrs Penrose.” Adam whispered.

 

“You’re welcome,” she replied and stood awhile to watch as he went

into the back of the wagon to where he slept.

 

Ben returned to polishing the barrel of his rifle in a methodical

manner that meant he didn’t really have to think about what he was

doing.  Mrs Penrose paused a moment and then approached him slowly

“Ben?”

 

He froze, his shoulders went taut and he stared ahead of  him “Good

evening, Mrs Penrose. Thank you for looking after the boys for me.”

 

“There’s plenty of food left, why not join us this evening?”

 

“No, that’s alright, thank you.”

 

She came closer until she was standing close enough for him to be

unable to avoid her anymore, he looked up and raised dark eyebrows

“Yes?”

 

“Ben, you can’t go on like this, you know.  You just can’t, your boys

need you and -”

 

“I’m always there for my boys, Mrs Penrose. If  you’re finding it too

much to feed them then I’ll not bother you anymore.”

 

“Nonsense, it has nothing to do with that …” she drew herself upright

and looked at him sternly, her mouth was tight, “Grief is all very

well, it’s natural, and you have good reason to grieve, but you have

no reason to be so uncaring to your boys.”

 

“Mrs Penrose..”

 

“No, let me finish what I want to say.   Inger was a wonderful loving

woman, and she loved her boys, what you’re doing now is the very

opposite of what she would want you to do.  For goodness sake, man,

your boys need your arms around them, not have you shut them out as

you are…”

 

He just stared at her and then in silence checked the safety catch on

the rifle and walked away.

 

He had walked no further than another two wagons when Philip Shrieber

stepped in front of him, “Excuse me, Mr. Cartwright, I’d like a word

with you.”

 

Ben hissed through his teeth, it seemed the world and its mother

wanted to stop and talk this evening, he shook his head “I’m busy…”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Walking and minding my own business.”  came the snapped off response.

 

“Good that’s what I had in mind too, so I’ll just walk along with  you

for a while.”

 

Ben frowned and glanced at his neighbour thoughtfully for Shrieber was

a man who liked only his own company, after all hadn’t he and Inger

even laughed a little about him? Inger had said …he bowed his head… it

didn’t matter what Inger had said, she wasn’t there to say it anymore.

 

“Your boy, Adam, he’s a clever lad, knows a lot about quite a few

things which I daresay you’ve taught him over the years, Mr.

Cartwright.  You need to be teaching him how to read and to write, he

has the brain to be a scholar you know?  Yes, he has the liking for

words and -”

 

“How would you know he has a liking for words?” Ben stopped and turned

to ask in a gruff off hand manner.

 

“I read him some poetry this morning.  He was quite enraptured and -”

 

Ben snapped his head away and stared into the dark shadows of trees

ahead, he walked more quickly in the hope of shaking this suddenly

talkative man away. He didn’t want to be bothered, he didn’t want to

wake up from this nightmare because if he did he’d lose her, all over

again, he’d lose his Inger.  If he resumed life as normal, wouldn’t he

be somehow disloyal to her and to what they meant together?

 

………………..

 

 

“Now, Hoss, just close your eyes.”  Adam looked intently at his

brother who stared as intently back, “Close your eyes, Hoss.”  Hoss

burped and drooled and made sounds like gurgles and water going down a

plug hole. “I’ll tell you a story, Hoss.”

 

Adam leaned forward and brought the corner of the shawl over his

brothers shoulders, he smiled and freckles merged across his nose.

“One day a pretty lady who was our Ma said to the little boy, “What

are you doing?”  and the little boy said “I’m drawing a house and it’s

the house where we are going to live.”  “Oh,” said the pretty lady,

and her name was Inger, she said, “Oh, how nice, is it a big house?”

and the little boy said “Yes, big enough for you and Pa, for Hoss and

me…””

 

He stopped because something funny had happened to his throat, it was

tight and somehow he couldn’t breathe properly, he couldn’t say the

words,  he was gasping for air, and his eyes were filling up with

tears and in a voice tight with his grief he sobbed “Oh Ma, Oh Ma.”

 

Sobs upon sobs, and shaking shoulders as he hunched over the baby with

the tears dripping from his face and then Hoss realised his brother

was crying and he began to wail adding his cries to those of his Adam.

 Adam raised his arm to  brush away the tears but his chest was tight,

and he was wailing, wailing with a forlornness that caused Mrs Penrose

to pick up her skirts in order to run to the wagon.

 

Adam felt strong hands upon his shoulders gently turning him around

and then a hand on his back as he was drawn to his fathers chest and

held in a tight embrace that was more than anything that he wanted at

that moment.  He heard his father’s voice soft whispers in his ear,

his father’s heart beat a soft rhythm against his own, and the smell

of his Pa more comforting than anything he could think of as Ben

rocked him back and forth until the crying stopped and he lay

exhausted in Bens arms.

 

“It’s alright, Adam, it’s alright, you’re alright, son.  We’ll find

our place,  you’ll see. You’ll design your house and we’ll build it

together.  We’ll cut down the trees and build up those walls, see if

we don’t, son, see if we don’t.”

 

 

Now there was a time for healing, at last. That night Adam and Hoss

slept to the sound of the tinny tune from Elizabeth’s musical box, and

in his bed Ben thought of the future for the first time in weeks.

There would  be a house, Adam’s house, and they would build it, and

more than that, his sons would grow as strong and tall as the trees

that surrounded it.

 

Chapter 5

 

The journey stretched on through the weeks and months, and for a while

Adam had the chance to be just a little boy who liked to play games

with the other children, sing and shout, roll around in the grass and

laugh. There was a lot of laughter now, a lot, and it made Adam feel

safe especially when at the end of each day Ben would hold Hoss in his

arms and Adam would lean into his lap and listen to whatever story his

Pa wanted to share with him.

 

Ben didn’t talk about Elizabeth or Inger, he kept the words inside his

head and nurtured them in his heart.   For his boys he told them the

stories of his adventures at sea, or some bible story the character of

whom he had a fondness.  So Adam learned you didn’t have to be big and

strong to conquer a bully, just have faith and courage like David;

and  you didn’t have to be afraid to admit to mistakes but have

honesty like the Apostle Paul.

 

Sometimes if there was a river or stream nearby Ben would take Adam

fishing with baby Hoss in his arm and set down safely in the grass,

and sometimes when Adam fell asleep with the sun shining down upon his

face he would wake up being carried home in his father’s arms and set

down beside his sleeping brother.

 

The wagon train changed at times.  They would reach a settlement and

wagons would separate to go their different ways.  Sometimes in small

townships Ben would stop awhile and get work in order to finance some

project he had in mind for the future.  It was at these times that

Adam would be introduced to school if there happened to be one

available.

.

 

They arrived at the small township at the foot of the snow laden

Sierras to find the trail already blocked off and impassable so once

again the group of travellers separated, some to return to other

settlements or attempt other routes to their preferred destinations,

as a result many died due to the extreme weather, Indian attack and

disease.

 

When Ben finally drove his wagon into the small township of San

Francisco there were fewer than 500 souls living there.  As he

followed the other wagons Ben knew that this was not the place he

wanted to settle into, and when the wagon came to a halt he sat awhile

to consider his options.

 

“Is this where we’re staying, Pa?” Adam enquired looking at the

profusion of buildings, canvas tents and rough stone adobe cabins.

Indians sauntered by as though bemused by the riff raff of settlers,

sailors made their way to the saloons and rough houses along the main

street and Chinese gabbled together as they carried their wicker

baskets of washing back and forth.

 

“No, I don’t think this is where we will be staying,” Ben replied, he

smiled as he looked down at the boy, “Stay here with Hoss until I get

back.  Don’t leave the wagon, Adam.”

 

The boy’s shoulders slumped a little, he was stiff from sitting

through the days travelling and running around to explore this place

seemed perfectly ideal to him.  He looked at his little brother and

frowned, sometimes looking after Hoss wasn’t his favourite task, since

the child had learned to walk he tended to get to places even Adam

didn’t think of venturing into.

 

He sat and watched people walking by, wondered about where they had

come from and where they were going.  He could see his father talking

to some men in a building  close by that had its walls covered in

maps, he had to narrow his eyes to see them, especially when a man

started to move his finger tracing out a route along one map and Ben

was nodding and stabbing at this place and then that place.  Another

man came along and Ben started talking to him, a book was brought

forward and the men bent down over it, and then began to study the

maps again.

 

So intent was he on watching his father that he forgot to look out for

Hoss who, like Adam, had got stiff from so much inactivity.  Hoss was

an adorable child with his big blue eyes and round face framed by

almost white blond hair, he looked older than he was due to his size

so when he managed to clamber from the back of the wagon and hurry his

way down the sidewalk no one seemed particularly worried.

 

Adam was finally roused from observing Ben when there was a gentle tug

on the leg of his pants.  He looked down and found a round smiling

face with sloe black eyes looking up at him.  He had never seen a man

from China before and felt a slight feeling of panic but the man was

nodding and smiling so he smiled back.

 

“You want boy?”  the man asked still nodding and smiling

 

Adam frowned and shook his head, he wriggled uncomfortably on the

wagon seat and looked over at where his father was now engrossed in

discussing something with the men in the building. Another tug at his

trouser leg, and the Chinese man was smiling again.

 

“Boy come out of wagon.  You want him back?”

 

“Hoss?  You mean Hoss?”

 

“Not hoss, little boy.” the man still smiled although he looked

confused, he fumbled around to produce Hoss who had been concealed

behind his back. “This boy? Your wagon?”

 

“Hoss!” Adam exclaimed and put on his ’angry face’ “What’re you doing

down there?  If’n Pa saw you now you‘d get a hiding for sure.”

 

Hoss opened his mouth and began to grizzle, he rubbed his eyes and

nose and wailed so that Adam had to jump down and put his arm around

him, give him a slight shake before hugging him close.  He looked at

the man who was still standing there, looking concerned at them both

“Thank you for bringing him back.”

 

“Boy like spider, wriggle everywhere.”

 

“Huh, he sure does.” Adam sighed and grabbed at Hoss’ shirt as the

child attempted to escape again.

 

“Boy like candy?  He see candy in window of shop.”

 

“He sure does like candy alright.” Adam replied struggling to stop

Hoss from escaping for the child was stronger than most children his

age.  “He ain’t never had much of it, but  he sure likes it when he

can get it.”

 

The man nodded “Hop Sing understand.”

 

Adam wrestled with Hoss a little longer and managed to get him back

into the wagon where the child grizzled awhile by which time the

Chinese gentleman had vanished.  Adam peered about for him but there

was no sign so he settled into the wagon with Hoss and started to read

him a story from a picture book.  Hoss wasn’t interested in the book,

or the story, or his brother’s attempts to restrain him so that for a

moment or two there was quite a wrestling match going on in the back

of the wagon before a smiling face appeared looking in on them through

the gap in the tarp.

 

Both boys became instantly silent and still as they stared at this

cheerful looking man who once getting their attention held up both

hands.  In each he held a small bag of candy and nodding gleefully

passed one to each child.  “You like candy?  Hop Sing make good candy,

lots of sugar and things little boys like.”

 

Adam and Hoss just stared at him until eventually Adam stammered a

thank you and Hoss just stuck some candy in his mouth, Hop Sing nodded

as though the sight of the child drooling over the candy was the best

thing he had seen in years.

 

“Adam?”  Ben’s voice intruded upon the trio, and the other man stepped

aside to allow Ben to reach the back of the wagon, peer inside and see

his sons safely there.  He frowned before turning to Hop Sing “Did you

get them the candy?  How much do I owe you?”

 

“No - Hop Sing make candy - all good, boys like, you see -” Hop Sing

gestured to where Hoss was almost choking on the sweet stuff.

 

Ben frowned, nodded and thanked him gruffly and was about to address

Adam who was still wondering what to do with his bag of candy when the

Chinese stepped up to Ben’s side “You stay here in town?”

 

“Er - no - I’m travelling on, towards Utah territory.”

 

Hop Sing nodded “Not many peoples there yet.”

 

“True, which is one reason why I’m going there. Anyway, thanks but -”

 

“You alone?  No woman? No wife?”

 

“Well, not that it’s any of your business but -”

 

“Lots of bad Indians, wild animal, who you have help you with little boys?”

 

“Pardon me?”

 

“You go alone?  Have boys?  You one man, one gun, fight many Indians?

No, Hop Sing think you one crazy man.”

 

Ben’s eyes rounded and the black brows beetled into a scowl “What?”

 

“You not go alone.  Hop Sing come too.  I shoot gun, cook food, help with boys.”

 

Ben looked over at his eldest son who was watching with his eyes and

mouth wide open, he had seldom seen his father bested in a war of

words but it seemed as though this foreigner was certainly getting the

master of him.  As Ben was going to do for many more years to come he

turned to Adam for help in getting him out of the situation only to

find that Hop Sing wasn’t going to brook any of that nonsense from

him.

 

“I go come back soon.”

 

“I may be gone by the time you get back.” Ben growled.

 

Hop Sing smiled and bowed politely  “I come back very soon.”

 

As he hurried away Ben turned to look at his two sons, one who was

sticky and relishing his candy and not bothered about anything other

than that, and the other staring at the retreating stranger with

something like awe on his face.  “Well, Adam, what do you think we

should do?”

 

“Well,” Adam frowned, his eyes still on Hop Sing who was rounding the

corner of the street “Hoss likes his candy.”

 

“That’s not the best reason for getting ourselves lumbered with the

fellow.” Ben grunted.

 

“Well, he sure seemed like he wanted to come along with us, Pa.”

 

“He sure did, didn’t he?  I wonder why.” Ben rubbed his chin and

looked doubtful, “I think we had better just get ourselves out of here

as quick as we can -”

 

“He’s coming back, Pa.” Adam cried excitedly and relaxing his hold on

his bag of sweets which somehow got into the clutches of his little

brother.

 

Hop Sing was coming back, carrying a big basket of what must have been

his personal effects and a rifle slung over his shoulder.  Behind him

came at least six other men, all Chinese of varying ages and within

minutes Ben found himself surrounded by them all gabbling and

gesturing.   Hop Sing meanwhile stowed his basket into the back of the

wagon and stood beside Ben as though that was his station in life.  He

smiled and nodded and then bowed to the other men who all stopped

talking and bowed back. He turned to Ben “My Uncle and cousins, they

come to say to you thank you for taking me on journey with you.”

 

“I don’t recall actually saying that I would, Mr Hop - er - Sing.” Ben

replied with a courtesy he didn’t actually feel.

 

The distinguished looking elderly gentleman now stepped forward and

bowed “Honoured sir, my nephew, Hop Sing, very good cook, very good

man, honest and works hard.  You not like, you send back quick.”

 

“Yes, but -”

 

The older man smiled gently “Hop Sing wise man, he see you go in long

way all alone with small boy you go into danger and need help. One gun

not enough for territory you go into, Hop Sing very good with rifle.”

 

Hop Sing beamed proudly at his Uncle’s recommendations, he nodded at

all his relations who nodded back and bowed, so that he bowed again.

Ben looked at him thoughtfully, it was logical, it made sense.  He was

going to leave the other wagons and he would be alone, with two small

boys to care for … he nodded “Very well then, we had best get

started.”

 

Adam watched as the stranger took his place beside Ben on the wagon

seat.  He sat back and thought how strange it was that this person

should have attached himself to them.

As he looked at the two men sitting side by side, their backs to him,

he somehow felt that it just seemed such the right thing to have

happened.

 

That night as Ben finished the story and settled them down to sleep he

said, rather casually “Well, son, you’ll have to add another room to

our house if Hop Sings going to stay with us.”

 

“I know, Pa.” Adam sighed and folded his arms behind his head, “But

it’s a good thing really that he’s come along isn’t it?  He can help

us build it.”

 

Ben laughed and ruffled the dark hair, “I somehow doubt that he’ll

turn out to be any kind of builder.”

 

Adam turned his head and observed his Pa thoughtfully, shadows played

over Ben’s face but even so there was far less strain there than had

been even a year ago, he raised his hand and placed it upon Ben’s

cheek, just briefly, but it was an action that said more than words

ever could how much he loved him.

 

As they journeyed on Hop Sing proved to be all he had said he was, a

better than good cook, a fine shot with the rifle and a man who loved

the boys.   Ben had many an occasion to be grateful for the day Hop

Sing had stopped by their wagon as they continued a further two

hundred miles to what would become … home.

 

Chapter 6

 

From time to time during the journey from San Francisco Ben would take

out a map and some papers that he had collected from the Land Registry

Office.  The route and land that Ben had negotiated with them was what

Adam had observed from his seat on the wagon, and now, with these in

hand, Ben brought the wagon to their first sight of the Lake.

 

He had to stop the horses and just allow his eyes to dwell upon the

whole vista that opened up before him.  Hop Sing, seated beside him

looked back and beckoned the boys to join them so that the four of

them sat and feasted their eyes upon the sight.

 

“Is it the sea?” Adam asked naively to which Ben smiled and after

putting  his arm around his son’s shoulders explained that it wasn’t

the sea, but a lake. A vast body of water captured in a valley, “Can I

sail a boat on it?”

 

“Perhaps one day.” Ben said thinking of small paper rafts whereas Adam

was thinking more in the line of his father’s clipper ships.

 

“Water -” Hoss declared pointing at the lake “Birds.”

 

As they watched some geese made a perfect landing upon the surface

creating ripples that eddied out, widening until they disappeared from

view.

 

A better day could not have been chosen for them to have arrived at

this spot, wild flowers grew in profusion everywhere they looked,

animals scampered about with hardly a glance at them although Hop Sing

observed them with a sharp eye.  The surrounding landscape was

mirrored perfectly in the tranquil stillness of the waters.

 

“I can  hardly believe that this is our territory,” Ben murmured, “I

can’t believe it.”

 

“Maybe those with eyes that have  been watching all won’t believe it

either.”Hop Sing muttered.

 

Ben glanced at his companion anxiously “You saw them too?”

 

Hop Sing inclined his head “Yes, many times, follow us - Hop Sing keep

rifle very close.”

 

Ben nodded now and looked over to where the boys were now running

playfully along the banks of the lake, “Don’t say anything about them

to the boys, I don’t want them frightened.”

 

He watched them for a moment and then mindful of what or rather who

they had been discussing Ben shivered as though someone had walked

over his grave.  He glanced over his shoulder but everywhere was calm,

only the birds flew overhead, rabbits peered from their burrows and a

slight breeze bent the heads of the heavier flowers.

 

Eventually he and Hop Sing joined the boys on the banks of the lake,

Hop Sing cast out a line and sat down on the grass and Ben chased the

boys about until they were too tired to run any more.  By the time

they returned to the wagon Hop Sing had caught enough fish to provide

food for an army.  Ben lifted the boys back into the wagon “Well,

Adam,” he said with a smile on his face “Do you think this would be

the best place to build our house?”

 

Adam shook his head and laughed, he was happy, he felt free from

worries and the beauty of what he had seen had touched his little

heart.  Beside him Hoss bounced on the  blankets of his cot, his

energies returning.

 

“Let’s move on then.” Ben ruffled Hoss’ curly blond head and returned

to take his position beside Hop Sing who sat rigid backed with his

rifle across his arm.

 

If the boys sensed the wariness of the two men as the wagon rolled

away from the lake towards the more verdant areas of land they made no

mention nor indicated it.  As Ben urged the team of horses onwards he

took good note of the land through which they were travelling … when

he saw meadows of grass he thought of cattle, a drier terrain and it

pondered upon the likelihood of horse rearing, and then when the wagon

eventually returned to the shadows of the trees he thought of a saw

mill.

 

Now, he pondered, why a saw mill?   Apart from the cost of setting one

up, why have one here just because there were so many trees, after

all, they were just the one family.

 

As dusk finally settled around them and the day was drawing to an end

Ben decided they would make camp.  He unhitched the horses and after

securely hobbling them on a picket line he found himself staring into

the shadows wondering if the talk he had heard in the Land Registry

would be true.  He rubbed his chin anxiously, remembering how the

Manager had drawn up a map of his territory and as he had handed it to

him had congratulated him for getting in ahead of the crowd.

 

“Mark my words, Mr Cartwright, it won’t be long before there’ll be a

flood of people beating their way to that territory.”

 

“Why?  What’s there that they haven’t already got here?” Ben had asked

as he had pocketed the papers and taken the receipt for the monies he

had paid over.

 

“Well, they’ve been prospecting there for some while,” another of the

men in the office had observed, “They reckon there’s gold in the

Washoe, and one they make it more public than they have you can

guarantee it’ll be like Sutters Creek all over again.”

 

The Head Clerk had closed the book and pushed it to one side, leaning

on one elbow he looked thoughtfully at Ben “So why’d you want to buy

up so much land, Mr. Cartwright?  There ain’t nothing there except

Indians and a few prospectors.”

 

“Do the Indians cause any trouble?” Ben had asked anxiously and had

noticed the way the men had looked at one another before one replied

“If they do we ain’t likely to hear about it.”

 

Ben had said nothing but left with the feeling that a wagon with one

man and two small boys would be swallowed up by the territory he had

just paid for and whatever the Indians did to them would be of no

account.  No doubt the Land Registry clerk was already thinking of how

to re-sell the land in the future to some other fool who was willing

to hand over the required funds.

 

Perhaps that was why he had been more willing than usual to take Hop

Sing on board, the security of having another adult - although at

times he did wonder if he could put Hop Sing in that category - made a

big difference to his state of mind.

 

As the boys settled down to sleep in the wagon Ben wandered over to

the camp fire and stood there awhile listening to the night sounds. He

looked up at the sky and observed the stars, the moon shining above

half hidden by the dark peaks of the trees.  He felt an overwhelming

feeling of privilege at being there, the awesome beauty he had seen

through out the day made him feel that at last everything was right,

everything was as it should be.

 

Later he took out his copy of Paradise Lost by John Milton.  He

located the section that he and Elizabeth had loved so much, and as he

read it he imagined her voice whispering the words along with him :

 

“They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld

Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,

Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate

With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms:

Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;

The world was all before them, where to choose

Their place of rest, and Providence their guide;

They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,

Through Eden took their solitary way.”

 

……………….

 

Ben had woken early enough to see the first streaks of light pierce

the dark heavens and had stirred himself to build up the fire.   The

feeling that he was not alone, and by that he didn’t mean Hop Sing and

the boys, but some other presence being felt he looked about him

warily and reached out a casual hand towards his rifle so that it

would appear a natural movement rather than a defensive one.

 

A darker shadow within shadows shifted and moved, merged with several

others to become complete so that by the time he had the rifle in his

hands several men were approaching him.  They entered the camp without

the arrogance of the Plains Indians but there was certainly enough

hostility felt for Ben to feel the hairs on his body tingle.

 

A man stepped forward, looked around the camp with a look of obvious

disgust and then glared at Ben, “Who you?”

 

“I’m Ben Cartwright.  I’m here with my sons and a friend.” he cleared

his throat “This is going to be our home.”

 

“Home?”

 

“Yes, our home.”

 

The Paiute turned to address the other men, several of whom spoke

together, angry tones of voice and threatening gestures were obvious.

Hop Sing had arisen and was standing beside him, unarmed it seemed,

although he actually had a good meat cleaver hidden behind his back.

 

“You say - this home - you not ask Chief - you not ask permit have?” a

toss of the head, black eyes glittered and proud lips thinned.

 

“Where is  your Chief ?  It would be good to see him, to talk.” Ben

replied, hoping that such a request wouldn’t lead to greater problems.

 

“He come - speak you - soon.”

 

They left as silently as they had first appeared with Ben and Hop Sing

watching them until satisfied that they were alone.  Ben looked at his

companion “Well, we may as well have some coffee, I’ll get the boys.”

 

……………

 

Adam very carefully placed the sticks on the ground.  Watching him

from his seat by the fire Ben could see a pattern emerging and with a

smile asked his son what he was doing to which Adam replied he was

making their house.

 

Ben promptly stood up and approached him and by looking down could see

the outline of the building that Adam was designing.  “So this is

where we shall live, huh?”

 

“Sure, Pa, this is the big room see?  Here’s the stairs -” he pointed

to where a cluster of sticks indicated a stair case.

 

“Hmm, we’ll need a barn you know, and stables for the horses.”

 

Adam nodded and stood up, brushed his hands upon the back of his

pants, “Pa, how many men built the ark?”

 

“What ark?”  Ben swilled coffee round and round in his mug, and then

smiled “Noah’s ark do you mean?  Well, there were Noah and his three

sons, their wives and Mrs Noah.”

 

Adam sighed and nodded “Sure is a good thing our house ain’t gonna be

bigger’n the ark.”

 

“Well, that’s true.” Ben leaned down and looked at the twigs that Adam

had set out so carefully, “So, what have we got here … a big room …”

 

“And a big fireplace, Pa, just here -” Adam pointed to an area “Is

that the best place, Pa?”

 

“I think so, son.”

 

They shared a smile, a moment united in a common thought before Ben

broke away to check on his horses, one thing he knew about the Paiute

was their love of stealing animals.

 

Hoss came running round from the back of the wagon, without looking

and without thought he dashed through the carefully set out twigs so

that they were scattered over the ground.  “Hoss, you broke it, you

broke it on purpose.”

 

“Didn’t” came the swift retort, which was Hoss’ most immediate form of defence.

 

“You did.” and Adam gave his brother a punch of his fist which

resulted in Hoss giving a howl and turning to give his brother an

immediate punch back.

 

Adam went down as though he had been struck by lightning and Hoss was

about to throw himself on top of his brother - seeing it as an ideal

opportunity to land another blow before Adam could strike back at him

- when Ben grabbed him by the seat of the pants and hauled him back

“That’s enough - go and sit down, over there -”

 

Ben knelt beside the older boy and looked at him anxiously for Adam’s

stillness was unusual, he was quick and light on his feet and even now

he remained inert. “Hop Sing - get me some water.”

 

The wet cloth wiped around his face and neck slowly brought Adam to

his sense, his eyes rolled around a little and he had to blink several

times to get them in focus. He looked up into the anxious eyes of his

father and Hop Sing “Hoss hit me.”

 

“I know.  He just doesn’t know his own strength, son.  Are you alright?”

 

Adam’s bottom lip trembled, he wanted to cry as much from humiliation

at the fact that his younger brother had knocked him out as in the

pain he was feeling still.  He sat up and glowered at Hoss who was

sitting by the wagon.  The little boy was sniffling and crying, scared

that his brother wouldn’t wake up, and worried by the repercussions

that would come as a result.

 

Ben, after making sure that Adam was going to be alright, left him to

Hop Sing’s ministrations while he went to sit with Hoss.

 

It had become evident as Hoss had grown that the boy possessed more

than the usual strength of one so young, as a result he had often

times hurt Adam more than he had intended when they were having their

scraps, but this was the first time he had actually accomplished a

’knock out’.  There had been other instances of the boy not

understanding that he was stronger than most and that he had to learn

to handle his strengths in a way that would not hurt others or injure

himself.

 

How could one explain to a child not yet three years of age that he

had to be more careful, that he had to hold things gently when perhaps

he already thought he was?  Ben rubbed his jaw and sat down, gave Hoss

a hug and then stammered through some explanation only to have Hoss

say, quite truthfully “He hit me first.”

 

He was just a little boy and with limited understanding, it was just

too easy to assume that because of his size and strength he was so

much older than he actually was, that he had to restrain either his

strength or his temper.  How does a child realise that a natural

reaction to defend oneself had to be reined in …that his rough and

tumble could mean pain and injury to his brother?

 

Hoss approached Adam with his head hung down “Sorry, Addy”

 

“Go away, I don’t like you, you broke my house.”

 

“Didn’t …” the brows beetled together in a scowl

 

“Did too.”

 

Hoss’ bottom lip trembled, tears welled up “You’re bossy.”

 

“I ain’t.”

 

“You are too.”

 

Adam stepped forward, fist clenched and ready to swing but Ben caught

hold of him and spun him round “Your brother said sorry, now leave it

be.”  seeing the mutinous look on his sons face Ben lowered himself

down to look into his face “You have to remember he’s much younger

than you are, you have to learn more control over your feelings, over

your temper.  You have to look after  your brother, Adam.”

 

Adam bristled, it seemed to him that all he ever did was look after

his brother, he pouted and his dark eyes went darker “He hit me.”

 

“You hit him first.”

 

“He hit me harder…”

 

“You have to teach him not to …”

 

Adam pulled away, he felt hard done by and slouched to the wagon where

he found refuge in a book, while Hoss picked over some food that had

been left over from the morning meal.

 

Both boys had a lot to learn and it seemed to Ben that he was failing

to teach them … it was at times like this that he missed Inger, longed

for Elizabeth.

 

Chapter 7

 

Ben decided to move on from that location, he felt it oppressive and

the trees crowded in so thickly that it provided too good a cover for

any Indian attack.  With rifles at the ready and his revolver loaded

by his side he and Hop Sing took the wagon away from the lake and

woodland to where they could see it slightly thinning out.

 

Unbeknown to Ben the Chief of the Paiute was a man of outstanding

wisdom and foresight.  He was a man given to strong religious beliefs

and firmly believed that all men were of one family and that one day

the white man, and others, would one day come to his land and be

united in peace.   Now that another white man had arrived he prepared

himself to greet him and welcome him to the land which he did not then

know had already been purchased.

 

He was called Onennumucca or One Mocassin and many years earlier had

led the Lewis and Clarke party to a safe place from the Bannocks.  He

was to become known as Truckee in the future, and was father to

Winnemucca.  Dressed in his rabbit skin and fox lined garments he rode

at the head of a small party of Paiute to locate the lone white man

and his companion.

 

 

 

Adam and Hoss were back on good terms now and waiting for Ben to

confirm whether or not the area where they had stopped would be the

location for their house.  As far as Adam was concerned it was

beautiful.  There were not too many trees to make it dark and

foreboding, and when he lay on his back and looked upwards he could

see the sky through the tops of the trees. Wild flowers grew in

profusion and lent their sweet smell to the air around him.

 

Hop Sing was showing Hoss how to handle an egg.  It was his first

lesson on how to hold things in a more careful way, a way where

nothing could be harmed.  It meant being taught that he was different,

and although that made little connection in his mind at the time, it

was something he would grow to fight against bitterly until finally

accepting it.

 

When Onennumucca stepped out from the trees Ben was caught some

distance from his weapons and stood between the Pauite and the wagon,

Hop Sing stood up slowly and shuffled the little boy behind him for

protection while Adam scrabbled to his feet and hurried to his

father’s side.

 

The Chief opened up his fur garment revealing his nakedness and that

he came unarmed, he nodded and smiled and in halting language assured

Ben he had come in peace. It was time to talk, as new friends.

…………

 

Weeks passed, trees were felled, and land cleared.   The Paiute came

to watch until they were bored and drifted back to their own duties of

life.  During the night Adam and Hoss slept in the wagon while close

by the house slowly began to take shape.

 

No matter how impatient Adam was to see ‘his’ house built there was

only so much that two men and two small children could accomplish.  A

tree had to be felled, stripped of its boughs and branches, and then

cut to shape and size.  It took back breaking work, during which time

Hop Sing had to cook and care for the boys who were limited to the

amount they could do to help their father.  The horses worked with a

will, but eventually axes and saws would get blunt so it would be

another task to sharpen them up each evening in preparation for the

next day.

 

………….

 

The son of Winnemucca, grandson of ‘Truckee’,  befriended Adam and

often the two boys would wander off.  They would swim in the river,

fish, as well as hunt for rabbits and small game.  He was known as

Yacoub although later in life he would change his name as many of his

people customarily did, a name changed with differing circumstances in

their lives and how they felt about them.

 

It seemed to Yacoub that this white boy was very ignorant of many

things so he took it upon himself to teach him how to track, how to

follow the spore of a wild deer, how to identify the roots of plants

that could be nourishing, and those that could kill.  Adam’s education

was stretching and the more he learned the more eagerly he wanted to

learn more.

 

Ben tolerated his sons absences because the boy was of little help to

him, and it was to their  benefit that he was kept amused.  Hoss kept

closer to Hop Sing, forging an unbreakable bond that would last a

lifetime, and not only because of the food the man cooked for them.

 

In August Ben returned to San Francisco, which had grown even larger

during the few months since they had left.   Ben bought more staples

and equipment for the house.  He also returned with  half a dozen men

who were willing to assist him, for a salary and some good food.

 

“Well, Adam.” Ben put his arm around the boys shoulders, “What do you

think now?”

 

Adam nodded and leaned against his father’s knee, they were standing

on an outcrop of rock which provided them a birds eye view of the land

that had been cleared, and where the foundation of the house had been

set out.  The boy thought of his drawings over the years, and the way

he had visualised it so many nights on end.  If Ben had had a dream to

spur him on, then Adam had had a project and now looking down on what

was the outline of their future home he felt an overwhelming sense of

pride and pleasure.

 

“Pa, am I an arky-teck now?” he asked with his brown eyes wide and

shining with delight.

 

“Well, it is your design.” Ben said with his dark eyebrows raised as

though surprised that his son would doubt the fact.

 

There were still some trees clustered close by, providing shade during

the heat of days to come, and a wind break when winter blew in.

There was the well being dug out by two of the men, and there was Hop

Sing standing in the place that would one day be his domain.   He had

his hands on his hips looking from right to left and beside him a

little boy with blond hair stood in parody of him, hands on hips and

head twisting this way and that… a sight that brought a smile to Ben’s

lips as he watched them.

 

“How many bedrooms do you say we need?” Ben asked as he turned and

lifted the boy into his arms and onto his shoulder.

 

Adam laughed “lots and lots,” he raised his arms into the air “I can

see the mountains, I can see the sun shining on Sun Mountain, Pa, it

looks like gold.  I can see the trees they stretch for miles and

miles, Pa.”

 

Clean fresh pure air, Ben drew it down deep into his lungs and closed

his eyes. “This is it, then, Elizabeth.  This is home …”

 

Chapter 8

 

The house was built before the winter set in that year.   Ben and the

men he had hired built up the fireplace while Hoss and Adam made up

the clay cement  that was used to keep the stones all together.  It

was a fine centrepiece for the big room and everyone stood back for

some minutes just looking at it and admiring it.   It extended up to

the roof so the heat from the fire warmed the two main bedrooms that

the chimney passed through.

 

Ben had to make numerous trips to San Francisco which was growing all

the time.  He brought back everything that was necessary, sometimes

having to hire out more men and wagons to bring them all.  There was

the stove that had to be put in the area which was designated his

study, and there was the oven and stove for the kitchen so that Hop

Sing could continue to cook fine meals for them.

 

Furniture took more time but bit by bit things arrived and were fitted

into the rooms, they made do with what was available until items did

arrive, both the boys were amazed at the things that would ’appear’

from the wagons and be carried into the house.

 

Glass for the windows presented a problem as there were no glaziers at

the time, so wooden shutters had to be used to keep out the cold air.

They were fixed both externally and internally for double insulation.

 

It seemed to Adam as though the house grew a bit more every day,

rising up from its foundations and becoming more like a real home all

the time.  The care Ben took in smoothing out the floor boards of

every room so that they were as smooth as could be with no danger to

any feet getting splinters was a remarkable testimony to his patience.

 Adam and Hoss would be on their knees beside him to help when other

tasks didn’t beckon for their attention.

 

When the first snows were beginning to fall the hired men drifted

away, hands were shaken and salaries paid.  Hoss was the most upset at

seeing them go, he was a gregarious little boy and enjoyed company

more than his more serious minded brother who still preferred to run

around with Yacoub, which really annoyed Hoss.

 

“We should have a name for our home,” Ben said one evening several

days after the men had left.

 

He sat by the roaring fire smoking his pipe while Hoss sat on his left

knee leaning against his chest and Adam sat on the floor leaning

against his father’s leg.  Outside the wind howled and snow struck

against the wooden shutters making them thump and thud against the

framework.

 

Hoss wasn’t interested in thinking about anything except how cosy and

warm it was and how glad he was not to be in the wagon any longer.

Adam was becoming drowsy from the fire’s heat and yawned before

saying, “Pa, are we poor?”

 

The question caught Ben unawares and he had to clear his throat by

coughing, “No, we ain’t poor, son.”

 

“But we were one time, weren’t we?”  he looked up at his father

quizzically, “When we went to that town and met Ma, we were poor

then.”

 

“Yes, we were,” Ben nodded, and stared into the flames as he thought

back to the time when he had almost gone begging, cap in hand, for

work.  “Yes, Adam, we were very poor then.”

 

He didn’t say anything about the times when they had been starving

during the miles of their journey through the wilderness, where

Indians padded silently by looking for their white victims.  It didn’t

matter then how much gold you had hidden away, it couldn’t buy

anything, as valueless as the dirt itself.   He sighed and absent

mindedly ruffled Adams hair “We’re not rich, son, but with hard work

and diligence we’ll be alright.”

 

Adam didn’t ask who diligence was, he wondered if it had anything to

do with Hop Sing and as for Hoss he was sound asleep now and snoring.

 

A name for their home, Ben sucked the stem of his pipe and stared into

the flames…the Cartwrights of the ..mmmm, Ben Cartwright, owner of the

Triple C ranch?  Box C ranch. He shook his head, he only had two milk

cows and a bull so far so could he rightly class it as a ranch?

 

He looked around him at the big room and the fire, he felt pride touch

his heart, it had all come about as close to Adam’s drawings as

possible, a few tweaks provided by himself of course, but the child

had had the right idea of what suited this wild rugged place.  No

bricks either, all built from the trees that grew upon the forested

hills and mountains. He sighed and got to his feet, dislodging Adam as

a result and holding Hoss in his arms, “How about The Pinetree ranch?”

he suggested to Adam who was rubbing his eyes and yawning even more.

 

He carried Hoss up to the boys room, knowing that during the night the

child would no doubt creep into Adam’s bed for they were so used to

being close together at night.  He pushed open one of the shutters,

pushing snow from the ledge that fell upon the porch roof below .

 

It was snowing heavily and the flakes hit against his face as he

looked upwards into the sky.  He hadn’t mentioned to anyone, not even

Hop Sing, about the flakes of gold he had found on his land that he

had taken to the assayers office on one of his  trips to ‘Frisco.  No

point in saying anything after all, that might be all that there was

but it went a long way to paying for everything he’d brought back with

him.

 

…………..

 

The months rolled into years and the ranch house was extended to with

bunkhouses, hay barns and stables, more trees had been felled and the

way to the ranch house had been cleared for some while with cattle

grazing in the meadows and horses in the corrals.

 

When Ben Cartwright decided to go on a business trip to New Orleans he

left his sons in the care of Hop Sing.   Relations with the Paiute

were good, and the boundaries of their territory had grown as a

result.   More gold had been found on their land, and when he had

shown it to ’Truckee’ the Paiute had shaken his head “It is what makes

the white men go mad.  It’s bad medicine.”

 

But for Ben it meant he could pay for his cattle, and finance the

business deals he ventured into and although it dismayed him to see

how many prospectors were now toiling in the territory for gold he

never disclosed to anyone the amount he had himself found.

 

It was some months before he  returned from his journey to New Orleans

and when he did so, he was not alone.

 

Marie Cartwright had put a hand on his arm to stop him from getting

down from the vehicle.  She wanted to look at this building which was

to be her new home, and as she glanced from window to window, from

porch to roof she smiled then turned to him, and gripped hold of his

hand with her fingers, “So, Ben, this is your Ponderosa?”

 

“Yes,” he replied and looked up, following the direction of her eyes

“Yes, this is home.”

 

“Home.” she echoed and nodded as she waited for him to assist her

down, home where two little boys were about to get the shock of their

lives when their father walked in and introduced them to their new

Mama.

 

Chapter 9

 

Hoss had almost fallen down the stairs in his hurry to reach the door

so that he could welcome his Pa home.  Ben had just reached Marie’s

side when the little boy appeared with a red face and beaming smile

and arms up stretched for his father’s hug after all despite his size

he was merely a five year old who had yearned for the return of his

Pa.

 

“Hey there, Hoss.” Ben swung him up high and then into his arms where

the child’s arms encircled his neck and hugged him tight, “How’s my

boy today?  Missed your Pa did you?”

 

“I did, Pa, I missed you more’n you’ll ever ever know.” Hoss said,

“Why’d you have to be away fer so long?  I waited and waited for you

and you  never came back, and Hop Sing said you would -” his voice

trailed away as he realised he was being watched by the pretty young

woman standing close to his father. He blinked and his hold on Ben

relaxed enough for Ben to set him back on the ground.

 

“Well, Hoss, I’d like you to meet Marie.   Marie, this is Erik, we

call him Hoss.” he gave his son a little gentle tap on the shoulder

“Say hello to Marie, Hoss.”

 

“Hi.” Hoss nodded and raised a hand, blinked and looked curiously at

his father. A woman was such a seldom seen being on the Ponderosa,

even in the settlement there were just a handful and most of them were

worn out women who cared for a weary husband and a gaggle of children.

 He had never seen such a pretty woman in all his five years and shyly

edged closer to Ben.

 

“Hello, Hoss.”  Marie replied and leaned down a little to his level,

“I’ve heard so much about you.  I’m really pleased to meet you at

last.” and very gravely she shook his hand although he snatched it

back quickly and hid it behind his  back for some reason even he

couldn’t explain.

 

A flurry of activity came from the house now as Hop Sing appeared

wreathed in smiles and pleasure at seeing his friend and master

return, behind him came the thin long legged boy that Adam Cartwright

had become, not wreathed in smiles, although he had been until he had

seen the woman talking to Hoss.

 

“Mr Catlight you come back home good time like now.   Big trouble in

settlement, big trouble in Indian camp, big trouble in Hop Sing’s

kitchen stove all bust can’t cook no more.” he paused and looked

anxiously from Ben’s beaming countenance to the woman smiling at him,

“You cum all way with Mr Catlight? You maybe crazy?”

 

“No, Hop Sing, I’m not crazy.  It’s good to meet you.” she put out a

hand and shook his, leaving him dumb struck, but she was looking over

his shoulder at the boy who stood behind him, “You must be Adam?”

 

Adam gulped and cleared his throat “Yes’m.” he looked at his father

and offered up a small smile, the joy of seeing him return overtaken

by the niggling feeling that wriggled at the back of his mind, “Hi

Pa.”

 

“Hey, c’mon, arn’t you going to give your Pa a hug?” Ben laughed and

opened his arms wide in order to embrace the boy who, blushing,

allowed himself to be hugged, responding with enough warmth to satisfy

Ben.  “Adam, Hop Sing - this is Marie.”

 

They turned to regard her again as though they hadn’t noticed her

before already … Adam waited, convinced there was more to come after

all this was no waif and stray Pa had picked up  begging on the high

road.  Hop Sing nodded and smiled, and then looked at Ben who added

now “Marie is my wife.  Marie Cartwright.”

 

He wanted to say ‘Boys, this is your new Mama.’ but suddenly it seemed

out of place to do so, as though he were providing a replacement for

something that was old and out of date.  He took hold of her hand and

smiled at her, before looking at them.  Hoss now sidled over to Adam

who closed ranks by stepping closer to him.  Hop Sing nodded, his eyes

wise in how things were now to be, he bowed politely his countenance

serious “Welcome to Ponderosa, Missy Cartwright.   I go now bang on

stove make work so can cook good special dinner for you.”

 

Ben looked at Hoss and Adam his smile broader than ever “Well, boys,

let’s go inside.”

 

He took the lead with Marie and then when they reached the door he

swooped her up into his arms and when she said “Oh Ben” and laughed,

he laughed along with her and then, (this really made Adam blush)

kissed her right there on the spot before carrying her over the

threshold.

 

Hoss looked at his brother “Why’d he do that to that lady?”

 

“That’s what people do when they’re married.” Adam replied having read

about it once a long time ago.

 

“What? All the time?”

 

“Of course not.” Adam replied scornfully, “Just the once.”  he paused

and twitched his thin shoulders “Look, you go on in side, I’ve chores

to do in the stable.”

 

“Can’t I come too?  I don’t wanna go in by myself.”

 

“Don’t be such a baby, Hoss, she can’t eat you, can she?”  Adam

replied and was about to turn on his heels to get to the stable as

soon as possible when he heard his father calling them indoors.

 

Adam Cartwright was eleven years old now and in many ways a great deal

older for his years.  Emotionally however he was naïve and young

having had little social dealings with anyone other than those men who

worked on the ranch, the Paiute, and a few homesteaders struggling to

settle in the area and even those he saw rarely.

 

What he knew about life beyond his narrow horizons were garnered from

the memories of his times on the wagon train, in various settlements

for brief periods of his life and from books.   On one of Ben’s forays

into San Francisco he had managed to purchase a job lot of books and

it had been Adam’s determination to read through every one of them.

 

He now nudged Hoss forward and followed close behind the blond headed

freckle faced five year old.   When they stepped into the house they

found Marie standing by the fire looking around at the room, she

smiled at them both “This is a beautiful room, Adam. Your father tells

me that you designed the house and helped build it.”

 

“Hoss helped as well.” Adam said quickly wishing there was somewhere

he could hide behind because Marie Cartwright was really pretty and he

felt awkward and ill at ease.

 

“I did the mud.” Hoss volunteered, “We made a big puddle and then

stomped about in it and then we filled up the cracks between the logs

with it.”

 

“You did a very good job of it, Hoss.” she smiled and Adam had the

impression she was going to pat the boy on the head like a puppy,

instead she started to remove her coat which Ben took from her and

draped over the back of a chair, then she removed her bonnet revealing

her golden hair which made Hoss’ eyes go round just like marbles.

 

“You’re pretty.” he said in a quiet voice, then he frowned slightly

and looked at Ben, back at Marie and sighed.  He had seen the pictures

Ben had of Inger, his own mother, and knew that she had had hair

equally as blond.

 

“Thank you, Hoss.”

 

A clatter from the dining room heralded Hop Sing’s return with the

tray loaded with tea and coffee pots, cups and saucers. He placed this

carefully on the table and then with a bow disappeared back into the

kitchen where the sounds of banging could be heard as he attempted to

get the stove to function.

 

For a moment there was an awkward silence until Marie smiled

graciously and walked to the table and poured out the coffee which she

handed to Ben,  she poured herself tea and then returned to the fire

and sat down in the blue chair.  She looked at the two boys who hadn’t

moved a muscle “Don’t just stand there, boys, come closer and let me

have a good look at you both.”

 

Hoss frowned and approached slowly, he looked  up into her face and

smiled, after all,  who could resist such a pretty face “Are you going

to stay with us now?”

 

“Yes, I am, you don’t mind, do you?” she smoothed back a curl from his

forehead and her eyes twinkled along with her smile.

 

Adam swallowed a lump in his throat, and drew closer to her and looked

at her with as much interest as she showed him, when she smiled at him

his returning smile was wavering, he felt shy and awkward.  He glanced

over at Ben who was slowly unbuttoning his own travelling coat, the

cup of coffee cooling on the table beside him,  “I’ve some chores to

do before supper,” he muttered, “I’d better get them done now.” he

turned to Marie “A pleasure to meet you, M’am.”

 

Ben frowned slightly as his son hurried from the room and the outer

door closed. He picked his cup up slowly and sighed, the return home,

the welcome he had anticipated, wasn’t working out quite as he had

hoped.

 

 

Adam worked more slowly than usual at his chores.  Normally he liked

to get indoors for supper as soon as possible because afterwards he

could read one of his books, but he knew that that wasn’t going to

happen tonight.  He accepted the fact that there was going to be

talking, and somehow he didn’t feel prepared for it.   He was cautious

by nature, he had learned to be so, and as a result he found himself

perplexed as to how to handle this sudden change in their

circumstances.

 

He was mucking out the stalls when the stable door opened and Hoss

entered, after casting a quick look at him Adam said “What do you

want?”

 

“Pa said for you to hurry up, suppers nearly ready.”

 

“I know that -”

 

“Then you gotta hurry up.”

 

Adam firmed his lips and raised his chin challengingly.  For the past

few months he had been his own boss, had tackled his chores and never

missed on doing them, but he had done them at the speed he had chosen.

 He looked at Hoss who was staring at him “What?”

 

Hoss shrugged “Pa said that the lady is our Ma.”

 

Adam frowned “Well, she ain’t.”

 

“Pa said she is.”

 

“She’s Mrs Cartwright but she ain’t our Ma.”

 

“Pa said she is though.”

 

“How can she be our Ma when -” he stopped, swallowed, it was too cruel

to say the words but Hoss understood what he had been about to say for

he bowed his head and pushed some straw and dirt about with his booted

foot.  “Do you like her?”

 

Hoss shrugged “She’s pretty.”

 

“You do like her, don’t you?”

 

“Wal, I guess I do.  She said she was going to read me a story tonight.”

 

“But I -” he stopped himself, he had read or told Hoss a story every

night since Inger had died, ever since that time on the wagon train

when Pa had disappeared into himself. He shook his head “I’ll just

finish this and then I’ll be in.”

 

“Pa said to make sure you wash up …”

 

“Then you’d better make sure you do too, Shortshanks.”

 

Hoss laughed, he was already up to Adam’s chest and could hardly be

called Shortshanks much longer.  But he left the stables happy enough

leaving Adam to finish his assigned task.

 

He washed his face and hands in the water trough before stepping into

the house and closing the door behind him.  The smells of good food

and the sight of it on the table proved that Hop Sing’s clanging and

banging had been successful.  He followed the rest of them to the

table and sat down.  Marie smiled at him “You’ve been busy in the

stables?”

 

“I - er - yes, m’am.”

 

“I could smell the horses on you, Adam. I like horses very much,

tomorrow you must show me yours.”

 

Adam swallowed again, he felt he had been kindly told off for smelling

badly and lowered his  head.  Ben said the prayer and they began to

eat.  The food was delicious but Hoss was the only one who really

enjoyed it.

 

 

By the time Hoss was to go to bed he was already in love with Marie.

He found himself too shy to call her ‘Ma’ so didn’t call her anything

at all, but when it came for him to go upstairs he lingered awhile in

saying goodnight to his Pa and then turned to her “Are you really

going to come and read me a story?”

 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” she took hold of his hand.

 

“’Cept that Addy always tells me a story …”

 

Ben spoke up now and said that not this time, he wanted to have a chat

with Adam so it would be better for Marie to spend the time with him.

Hoss glanced over at Adam and nodded “Alright, Addy?”

 

Adam watched his little brother mount the stairs with the tall slim

woman right behind him then he turned to look at his Pa.  Ben was

standing by the fire staring down into the flames he turned now and

looked at his son with an anxious expression on his face “Well, son, I

guess I caught you unawares, didn’t I?”

 

“How’d you mean, Pa?”

 

“Not letting you know that I was getting married and bringing Marie

home to be - to be a mother to you boys.”

 

Before Adam could say anything Ben came and sat down by his side, “It

may seem unfair of me to have done that, but time and distance meant

there was no time for such niceties, Adam, and you have to be grown up

enough to understand that…”

 

“Sure, Pa.  I understand -”

 

“I love Marie, Adam.  She’s a lovely woman and she’s given up a lot to

come here with me, her life is going to change dramatically now, and I

want you to help her settle in and feel happy to be here.  I want you

to make her life easier, I want you to love her as I do.”

 

Adam looked at his father, deep into the man’s black eyes, striving to

understand all that Ben required from him.  He was just 11 years old

and expected to understand and accept something that Ben seemed to

think was so easy.  Perhaps it was, perhaps he should be able to

accept Marie because Ben loved her and that, really, was that … he

frowned as he accepted that along with everything else, life was

changed.  Forever.

 

 

Chapter 10

 

In itself the house had not really changed much with the years.

Outside there was a large planter with two rose shrubs in it that

bloomed each year, on the left side the roses were red, and on the

left they were white.  That was just one change Marie had made to the

outside of the building.

 

There was glass in all the windows now and curtains draped elegantly

at them, while here and there were other feminine touches that she had

brought along with her.  Ornaments and dainty things, much admired by

Hop Sing who handled them very carefully as he dusted them, and even

some elegant furniture which was mostly to be seen in the bedrooms.

 

Adam sat alone in his own room, his back bowed, his head low while his

hands dangled between his legs.  He stared at the floor boards without

seeing them as he thought over the events of the past few years that

had brought them to this particular time.

 

Marie had changed things a lot, not just by bringing along her bits

and pieces to add to the house and softening the more masculine feel

of the place.  She laughed and sang, and teased and cajoled, and in

general got all her own way with them.  She didn’t complain about

being so alone for there were few women in the area, even in Washoe

diggings that was struggling to exist and the homesteaders that

arrived, there were few whom she befriended.

 

Most women were hardened by their existence in that harsh country.

The journey to their homes had been hard, some with major losses, some

with great personal sacrifice. They were all destined to a life of

hard work relieved by the rare occasion of festival and jollity.

Marie Cartwright was rather like a delicate beautiful rose among far

sturdier plants and in some ways her prettiness and New Orleans ways

intimidated the homelier women she met.

 

She was only ever in her own element when Ben took her to San

Francisco every year, and then they would go to the theatre and she

could shop and for a short while enjoy a different life that closely

resembled the one she once had known.

 

But they had all worked to make her happy, she’d been pampered by Ben

and Hop Sing, adored by Hoss who had started calling her Mama within

the first week and respected and admired by Adam, despite his initial

misgivings.  That was how it had been until she had Joseph Francis

Cartwright.

 

Now in his room Adam fell back upon the bed and folded his arms behind

his head to stare  up at the ceiling.   That had been some day, he

recalled, everyone pacing the floor, waiting for that wretched doctor

to come.  Paul Martin M.D. had arrived in a slight panic, he had been

new to the territory and had lost his way and had arrived to a panic

stricken household with the woman about to deliver a premature baby

with her Chinese cook pouring Oriental herbal drinks down her throat

to assist her.

 

But Joe had arrived safely bawling his eyes out, screaming his

protests against the world into which he had been so abruptly hurled.

 That was the day Adam first called Marie ‘Ma.’  He remembered it now

… he had walked into the bedroom where Marie lay with the baby mewling

in her arms and she had looked up and smiled at him, Adam, and just

said “Come and look at your little brother, Adam?”

 

Hoss had already bounced upon the bed and was peering down into the

face of this noisy infant while Ben had stood at the head of the bed

as though he had never fathered a child before in his life.  Briefly

Adam had faltered and wondered if his father had ever looked as

proudly upon him, or Hoss, as he looked then upon Marie and baby Joe.

 

He had approached the bed and looked at the baby, he had never seen

one so small for his memory of Hoss had been that - well, as he had

said it himself ‘He’s a big un.’

 

“He’s real small, isn’t it?”  he leaned over to look at him and then

glanced at Marie who was still looking at him, “What’s his name?”

 

“Joseph Francis.” Marie had said and her finger had caressed the downy

cheek of the baby so gently “But he’s so small, who would have thought

such a tiny little baby could have caused so much pain.”

 

“Oh,” he had winced a little, “I guess it did …” he recalled the

yelling and other sounds, he hadn’t realised Marie knew so much

French!  He had reached out his finger and touched the baby’s hand,

“Little Joe … guess you’ll get to grow some soon.”

 

The baby became silent and his eyes rolled around, he yawned and

smacked his lips before beginning to yell again. Hoss put his hands to

his ears “He sure is noisy.”

 

“He’s hungry.” Ben said with a laugh and put a gentle hand on Hoss’

head, “Now, off you go so Ma can feed him.”

 

Hoss had jumped off the bed and grabbed hold of Adam’s hand, at the

doorway Adam turned and smiled “He’s going to be a tough one, Ma, you

won’t have to worry, Hoss and me, we’ll take care of him.”

 

The look on Ben’s face was reward enough, he had positively beamed at

Adam  as though all lit up from inside.

 

Not like now …Adam cast his arm over his face as though to shield them

from the light of the sun shining from the window.   It was a lovely

day outside, a day of sunshine and blue skies, where the smells of

ponderosa pine permeated the air and Marie’s roses bloomed yet again.

 

It had been just such a day 36 hours ago when she had insisted on

going riding.  “I can’t stay indoors on a day like this, Ben.”

 

Adam could hear her voice now, teasing and cajoling, her arms wrapped

around Ben’s neck and a kiss dropped upon the top of his head for Ben

had been sitting at the desk writing a letter and she had sneaked up

on him behind his back.

 

“Well, it is a good day out there, I wish I could come with you.” Ben

had smiled up at her and turned the chair around, “You won’t be gone

too long?”

 

“Not at all.  I want to see the Lake, there’s a view there so

beautiful on days like this, and the weather will break soon, I know

it will…”

 

“Enough of your teasing, woman, be off with you.” he had stood up then

and wrapped his arms around her, then kissed her cheek.

 

Little Joe had run up holding his hand up for her inspection “Cut

finger, Mama. Kiss better.”

 

She swung him up and kissed the upset finger “Better now?” and he had

nodded “All better, Mama.”

 

Hoss had been eating something, scowling at his little brother for

getting in the way over something “You taking Joe, Ma?”

 

“No, I want to go alone.” Marie had said as she picked up her little

riding hat “Joe, you be good for Pa and  your brothers.”

 

“I am good.” Little Joe had insisted as he pulled several books out of

the bookshelf in an attempt to find the one he wanted.

 

Hoss was ten now, a tall well built lad with blond hair like his own

mothers and blue eyes that caught people by surprise when they first

looked at him, such beautiful blue eyes. Marie had kissed his cheek

“Be patient with your baby brother, dear.”

 

“I am - all the time.” Hoss had protested while Little Joe crowed in

delight at finding what he had sought and leaving the mess for someone

else to clear up.

 

Adam had strolled into the room and smiled over at her “Going riding?”

 

“Yes, your father has given me permission for several hours of

indulgence.” she pulled on her gloves now over dainty hands and smiled

at him “Come and give your Mama a kiss goodbye.”

 

He had smiled, dimples formed in his cheeks and the brown eyes had

twinkled.  His respect for her had grown to a deep affection, no, now

he could call it love, now he knew it was, had been, love.

 

And then she was gone.

 

Adam shuddered and wiped his eyes from the tears that he was shedding.

 He could  hear nothing but silence in the house but he knew that in

the rooms where his father and brothers were, they would be weeping

their own tears.

 

In his room Ben held onto Joe, held him so tightly that the little boy

didn’t dare to move in case he was suffocated.  The child’s misery was

compounded with confusion, he couldn’t understand that his mother had

been in that box which had been lowered into the ground.  Oh sure, Pa

had explained it all, in a broken voice that had wobbled and broken at

times, and he had seen his Pa crying, and he had seen Hoss and Adam

weeping so he knew, deep down, that Ma was not going to come home

again.

 

He hadn’t seen her fall from the horse, just heard the screams, not

hers, the screams of the horse which had made them all  run from the

house.  Adam had reached the porch first, turned on his heels and

grabbed at Joe and hurried back into the big room with Joe in  his

arms, while Ben had gone out to attend to his wife.  They had heard

his cries, his protests, despair and then anger and then heartbreak

all bound in in his deep voice that seemed to reverberate throughout

the house.

 

Joe had held on so tight to his brother, so tight.  He had pushed his

face into Adam’s chest as though if he burrowed in there close enough

he could disappear altogether.  Adam had been shaking, his whole body

had been shivering and trembling and Joe could hear his brothers heart

thudding against his ear, really thudding so loudly, so fast.

 

“Is Ma hurt, Addy?” he had raised his face to look up at his brother

and Adam had tears running down his face and had been unable to

answer, and in the corner of the room Hoss had been clinging to Hop

Sing.

 

………………

 

In the kitchen Hop Sing prepared the meal, people had to eat even if

hearts were broken.  It didn’t really matter too much if they didn’t

eat it all, just that it would be there.  He pushed pans about, wiped

his eyes, and shook his head.  It was as though a light had been blown

out, there was no laughter now, no singing.   He stopped in his work

and raised his head as though to listen but there was just the silence

bound up in heartbreak.

 

He pulled out a chair and sat down, bowed his head and sighed deeply.

Perhaps the food could wait.

 

Hoss knocked lightly on his brother’s door and pushed it open.  Adam

was outstretched on the bed and for a moment Hoss wondered if his

brother was sleeping but no, Adam sat up and looked at him.  “I - I

didn’t want to be by myself no more, Addy.”

 

Adam nodded, reached out his arm and beckoned to his brother to

approach, Hoss sat on the side of the bed and stared at the far off

wall.  “Was it like this when my Ma died, Addy?”

 

Adam thought back to that time and nodded, he didn’t trust himself to

speak, his throat was too tight.  His mouth worked but no words came

out, he put his arm around Hoss’ shoulders.  They sat side by side for

some time before he could find his voice again, he cleared his throat

“We’ll have to look after Joe, Hoss.  We promised Ma, remember?”

 

“Did we?” Hoss frowned

 

“Sure, when he was born.”

 

“Sure, I remember now.” he sighed deeply, “She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

 

“She sure was.” Adam nodded, and stared far off as though seeing her

all over again. “We’ll have to look after Pa, as well.  He - he may be

a bit different for a while, Hoss. You mustn’t mind him, if he is -

but - we just gotta look after him, alright?”

 

“Sure.” Hoss nodded, “I’m sure gonna miss her, Adam.”

 

“I know, Hoss.  So am I.”

 

He knew he was going to miss her.  He had grown to love her despite

himself, she had been that kind of person, one couldn’t help oneself

but love her, and he had…  he really had.

 

Chapter 11

 

When the letter came from Boston it was stained and shabby looking

having been some time travelling the distance from the writer to the

recipient.  Ben weighed it in his hand and looked at the writing

thoughtfully for a moment or so before thanking Hop Sing and walking

back into the house.

 

From the post mark the letter had been posted some months ago and had

it not been for Hop Sing having to go to San Francisco to visit his

relatives - some grand occasion that begged his attendance - then it

would have languished in the Mail Depot there until some clerk found

someone who would deliver mail to the Washoe Diggings.  Hop Sing

walked in, asked if there was mail for Ben Cartwright and ended up

playing mailman for every human soul alive and dead who had ever

wandered through the straggling settlement.

 

So here he was balancing the letter in his hand and wondering what it

was that Abel Stoddard wanted.  He was allowing his mind to wander

back to the past when he was shipwrecked off the coast of Tierra Del

Fuego in the Magellan Straits and had been rescued by Abel’s ship

coming to pick up survivors. That was how their relationship had began

all those years ago.

 

“Hey, Pa?” Adam tapped his father on the shoulder “I know we don’t

often get mail but you could tell us who the letters from?”

 

“Who’s it from, Pa?” squeaked Little Joe from somewhere behind his big

brother and then he peeked from around Adam’s legs and gave his Pa a

wide smile, showing gaps where his front teeth were missing.

 

“It’s from your Grandfather Stoddard.” Ben replied and noticed

immediately the way his son’s eyes widened and dilated, a flush to his

cheeks.  “First time we’ve had mail from him since before Joe was

born.”

 

“Sure is -” Adam replied edging closer and peering over Ben’s shoulder

to look down at the envelope, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

 

“Ain’t’cha gonna open it, Pa?” came the echo now clutching hold of

Bens trouser legs and smiling beguilingly up at him so that Ben had to

smile and give the boy a wink of he eye.

 

Hoss sauntered up to join them on the porch “What’s happening?”

 

“Pa’s got a letter -” Adam smiled, eyes twinkling.

 

“Uh-Huh?  Who from?” Hoss wiped sweat from his brow, he’d been

grooming his horse and it was an especially hot day.  He returned to

the trough and worked the pump so that he could duck his head under

the water that sluiced its way out.

 

“From Adam’s grandad.” Joe piped up and then looked again at Ben “Have

I a grandad, Pa?”

 

“No.”  Ben said quietly and walked into the house with the three of

them following behind him so close that they were nearly tripping over

his heels.

 

“Open it, Pa.” Adam urged with his dimpled smile as wide as could be

in anticipation.

 

“I will -” Ben said and raised his hands as though to push them aside

“Now, let me read it first, it may be  bad news.”

 

Joe frowned and shrugged, raising his shoulders right up to his ears,

then he ran out to the yard to continue with his playing, he got bored

easily and waiting for Ben to read an old letter from some old man he

never knew was not his idea of fun.

 

Hoss wandered off to the kitchen to talk to Hop Sing and find out how

he had got on seeing all his folks and what was San Francisco like now

… while Adam stayed where he was, just waiting.  Ben sighed, frowned

and raised dark eyes to look at his son “You’d better sit down, Abel

usually writes quite long letters.”

 

Adam did as he was told, sitting in the blue chair and leaning

slightly forward with his hands clasped in his lap.  He was a tall

gangly youth now, at that age where elbows and knees seem their most

sharp and awkward.  His hair was overlong, curled  rebelliously, and

his skin was tanned with an almost copper tint to it.  Ben had told

him that he was beginning to look too much like the Paiute friends he

ran around with but that was just dismissed with a laugh.

 

He sighed several times during the time it took for Ben to read the

letter through, during that time Hoss had returned with a beef

sandwich and was chomping his way through it, dropping crumbs over the

rug.  Every so often Adam would dart a cold glare at his brother for

his chomping disturbed his thinking and concentration, although why he

wasn’t sure except that he felt certain that a letter from Abel would

surely involve him somehow.

 

Finally Ben folded the letter back into the envelope and looked at

Adam thoughtfully, then glanced over at Hoss.  “Was it anything

important, Pa?” Hoss asked.

 

“Er - I’d like to talk to Adam in private, son.  Could you go and make

sure that Joe isn’t in any kind of trouble out there?”

 

With a slight frown Hoss looked first at Adam and then at Ben before

stuffing the last of the sandwich in his mouth and getting up to leave

the room.   The door closed behind him and sealed in the heat, beyond

the room could be heard the rattle of pots and pans as Hop Sing

returned to the business of rescuing his family from the starvation

diet they had obviously been on during his absence.

 

“Adam -” he paused and licked his lips, then stood up and approached

his son who looked anxiously up at him

 

“Is he alright? He’s not ill, is he?”

 

Ben smiled slowly and shook his head, such concern for a man his son

had never met, only irregular letters to create any kind of bond … he

sighed and sat down on the edge of the low table they had in front of

the fire.

 

“No, he’s well.  He wants to see  you, son.”

 

Adam flushed, the colour darkened his already tanned skin, “Why?”

 

“You’re his only living relative, Elizabeth’s son.  He - well - he has

a proposition he wants me to put to you.”

 

“Yes?”  Adam leaned forward, dark brows furrowed and his lips thinned.

 

“He wants to finance your college education.”

 

“College?”  Adam looked startled and then shook his head and repeated

the word “College?”

 

“He wants you to have the best chance of a future he can provide you.

He feels he owes it to you.” Ben tapped the envelope upon his knee,

“It was something your mother and I often discussed before you were

born, about your having a college education.”

 

“But I thought that after what happened to Marie - Ma - that I

couldn’t go to college.   I mean, I know we talked about it once or

twice but I never thought it was a possibility.”

 

“Why not?”  Ben smiled gently and put a hand on his sons shoulder,

“why didn’t you think you could go?   Marie and I talked about it

quite often, we even started up a college fund for you.”

 

Adam shook his head, took a deep breath and stared at the floor while

Ben sat and waited, thinking and wondering what was going through his

son’s mind right now, what kind of inner conflict of desire versus

duty wrestled within him.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to have the chance to go to college, son?”

 

“Pa?  I’ve not even been to a proper school … how could I qualify?”

 

“There are ways.  The first thing is for you to get to your

grandfather in Boston.  He seems to have everything organised already,

it just needs my authorisation and permission, and your willingness

and presence.” he smiled and again his hand rested upon Adam’s

shoulder “What do you say, son?”

 

“I don’t know what to say, Pa.  It’ll mean leaving here, leaving

home.”  he frowned, “How would you manage?  I mean, what about the

boys?”

 

Ben smiled, rather a forced smile to be sure but it was more a smile

than a grimace, “You won’t be gone forever, son.”

 

Adam sighed and shook his head, he looked at Ben and frowned “I don’t

know, Pa.  I don’t know what to think, or what to say.”

 

“Well, think on it and then let me know how you feel in a few days time.”

 

“Do I have to go soon - if I agree to that is -”

 

“A few weeks …” Ben said quietly, “He’s paid for your passage from San

Francisco to Boston already.”

 

Adam frowned, shook his head again “But how could he know if I’d accept or not?”

 

“I think he’s assumed that being Elizabeth’s son  that you would … at

the same time, even if you don’t go to college, you would still like

to see your Grandfather, wouldn’t you?”

 

Adam wasn’t too sure about that but to travel to Boston, to go by ship

and experience sea travel, what an adventure!

 

…………….

 

It seemed to Little Joe Cartwright that his world was coming to an

end.  The fact that Hoss was morose and moping about didn’t help him

either.  He had snuggled into Adam’s  bed the night before he had left

and clung hold of him, really clung to him, and told him, begged him,

not to go.  There was so much to do here on the Ponderosa, and he was

needing him to help him with his lessons and so much more…please,

please stay.

 

Now here they were in San Francisco watching the changeling boy into

man walk up the gangplank of the clipper ship that was going to take

him so far away to that old man whom Joe really, really, hated with a

passion.  He looked up at his father “Don’t let him go, Pa.  Go and

get him back.”

 

“No, now then, Joe, that’s enough.” Ben said quietly and his voice

had a huskiness to it that made Joe quieten down some although he

looked at Hoss appealingly but just then Hoss had to blow his nose,

said there was something in his eye.

 

Joe felt so alone as he stared at the dark figure about to be

swallowed up by a crowd of other passengers.  How could Adam do it?

How could his dearly beloved brother leave them behind just to go and

see that old man and go to college.

 

He clung tightly to Ben’s hand, really tight just to make sure to

himself that his father wasn’t going to fly away or disappear and

leave him and Hoss alone on that busy wharf.  He watched as boxes and

crates were lifted up by huge nets and swung overboard to lower into

the ship. He strained his eyes for some sight of his brother but there

were too many people and then Hoss said   “There he is …”

 

A tall thin figure waving his hand and too far away from them to tell

if he was smiling or crying.  Joe hoped that Adam was crying.  ‘Serve

him right’ the little boy sniffled, ‘Serve him right for going away

and leaving me.’

 

………….

 

Adam Cartwright looked down at the small group and raised his hand in

farewell. He thought over the evenings when he had sat and talked, and

talked to his father about whether or not to go, what was the

advantage or the point of getting a college education when he would be

living so far in the wilds?

 

“Didn’t you want to be an architect at one time, son?”

 

Adam had smiled and nodded and Ben had asked him if he had not still

that desire? “There will  be more people moving here, they’ll need a

good architect to build a town, son.”

 

Now he watched as the small group stepped closer as though they needed

to see him more clearly.  Hands waved and he felt his heart quiver and

his stomach shake as he recalled how Joe had clung to him, he heard

the thin little voice begging him not to go “don’t go and leave me.”

 

Then Hoss trying to be big and brave, but blustering and bawling in

the barn so that they had held onto one another very tightly.  “You

said you’d look after me.” Hoss had protested and then pushed Adam

away and ran.

 

It had been a hard blow, those words broke Adam’s heart and he had

stood in the yard and looked at the house, looked at the way Marie’s

roses were blooming, the breeze making the curtains of the rooms

upstairs billow out, the way the trees hung close and seemed to hug

around the yard.

 

They had built this, together, with Hop Sing and those hired men, but

it had been his design.  How could he leave it?  He had turned as Ben

walked towards him, a smile on his face that wasn’t echoed in his eyes

and without a word he had turned away.  He Didn’t want to go to

college, he wanted to stay home … here, on the Ponderosa.

 

So now here he was waving them all goodbye and his eyes were welling

up with tears.  At the same time his nerves were tingling with

excitement, he was on board a ship that was going to take him all the

way to Boston around the Cape Horn, nearly 90 days of travel.

 

He leaned further over the side of the ship and waved more vigorously,

he couldn’t cry now, there was too much to learn, far too much, and he

wasn’t a child anymore.

 

Chapter 12

 

The snow had fallen stealthily overnight carpeting the streets and

rooftops with its virginal whiteness.   When Adam woke up from his

dream of home he had to stay a while in bed to remember exactly where

he was and then rub his eyes, look around and confirm it.  The window

was blanked out with snow where the wind had blown it making the room

darker as a result.

 

He closed his eyes again and wondered if he would be able to recapture

the dream, it had been so pleasant being back home, listening to Pa

and - he yawned, no good, time to get up, the cold was creeping into

his bones and the best thing to dispel that was action.

 

The sight of his grandson coming into the room for his breakfast

warmed Abel Stoddard’s heart.  He didn’t like to make a fuss about it,

he had never really gone in for emotional displays before and he

wasn’t going to do so now, but the sight of the youth really gave him

such pleasure.

 

“Breakfast is done, young man.  Better sit down and eat it while it’s hot.”

 

Adam smiled at his grandfather and then nodded his thanks over to the

woman who did Abel’s cooking;  he pulled out a chair and sat down

opposite the old man and poured out coffee.

 

“You drink too much of that stuff, it’ll stunt your growth.” Abel

cautioned with a glare from his pale eyes, almost hidden now behind

thick glasses.

 

“I doubt it now, Grandfather.” Adam chuckled and began to eat his meal

with relish, “What do you want to do today, Grandfather?  Go for a

walk anywhere?”

 

“In this weather?” his companion grunted, “It’s howling a blizzard out

there and my arthritis is bad.  Haven’t you work to do?”

 

Adam nodded, swallowed a mouthful of food and then drank some coffee

“I brought some home with me, and something to read -.”  he paused

“Have you heard of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Grandfather?”

 

“No, who is he? One of those students you racket around with?”

 

“I don’t racket around, Grandfather, I’m too busy,” Adam laughed and

sliced into more ham and eggs “Try again?”

 

“A new lecturer?”

 

“I wish he were although a lot of his ideas are very forward and not

acceptable to some. I thought you would have known him, Grandfather,

after all, he is a Bostonian.”

 

Abel shrugged, he wasn’t particularly interested in other Bostonians

unless they had sailed on the clipper ships and shared his life,

outside his narrow boundaries he knew relatively little.  Adam

continued with his meal, his thoughts on the books he had brought

along with him, books of Poetry, Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice and

Henry IV Pt 1, and some of Emersons works that had been recommended to

him by the Principal of the school who remembered Emerson when he had

been a student at the Boston Latin School and Emerson was in his last

year before going up to Harvard.   Emerson was becoming the newest

star in literature’s vast firmament.

 

Later Adam pulled on his outer clothes and boots and trudged out into

the snow.  He stood for a moment at the doorstep to look around him as

though to immerse himself into these surroundings.  Later he would

write it all down in a letter to his father and brothers, his first

impressions of looking at a snow laden harbour in New England from the

doorstep of the house where he had  been born.

 

He made his way through the town with the snow squeaking beneath his

feet at each step.  How much had changed in the past eighteen months

he mused as he walked along, head bowed as a new onslaught of snow

blew against him.  School life - well, that had been rather a

nightmare at first, but he had gradually crawled from under the

negatives and was now enjoying it.  He often thought of how much he

owed Marie for her insistence upon teaching them the social graces.

He very much doubted if his rough wilderness manners would have been

appreciated in the lofty corridors of learning at the Boston Latin

School where his grandfather had placed him.

 

His thoughts trickled back to that first meeting with Abel, the way

the mans eyes had brimmed over with tears at the sight of his

daughters son.  Once they had arrived in the town Abel’s first thought

was to take Adam to Elizabeth’s graveside, where he had told the youth

about the day she had left them … as though forgetting that he brought

fresh guilt into the heart of the lad standing by his side. But then

he started to explain how he had promised on this cherished precious

headstone that he would get his grandson a good education, pay for it

himself, a tribute to them both, mother and son, that, he said, was

why Adam was here now, because of that vow.

 

Sometimes when he came to stay with his Grandfather, Adam would go to

the graveyard and sit on the bench that was opposite the grave of his

mother.  He would sit and contemplate the way things had been with his

Pa, the journey from New England to the Ponderosa.  Somehow it seemed

fitting to do that, as though he were sharing his thoughts with her,

this woman he had never known, who had given him life.

 

……………

 

“Hoss, is Adam ever gonna come home?”

 

Hoss frowned and scowled slightly at his little brother, he shrugged

“Guess he will.”

 

“When?”

 

“I dunno.  When he feels like it I guess.”

 

“Tomorrow?”

 

“Of course not tomorrow. Nor the day after that for all I know.” Hoss

put a little more elbow grease into cleaning his horse’s tackle, he

polished the bridle until it shone, and put it on the hook with some

pride.  “Adam will come home when he’s done his exams.”

 

“What’s them?”

 

Hoss sighed and looked over at Joe who was sitting on a bale of straw

eating his fingernails.  Joe smiled his most beguiling smiles, and

Hoss nodded “Exams are answering lots of questions about what you’ve

been learning all the time you’ve been in school.  That’s what Pa said

anyhow.”

 

Joe’s brow puckered up into a frown “Adam sure must be learning a lot,

he’s been gone a mighty l-o-n-g time.”

 

Hoss nodded “I know.  I wish he were still here.”

 

“I miss him.” Joe said and hugged his arms around his chest and rocked

too and fro, “I bet he doesn’t even know I’ve lost more teeth.”

 

“Yeah, but you got some new ones, didn’t ya?” Hoss grinned over at him

and began to polish his saddle, easy long strokes of the duster.

 

“Do you miss him, Hoss?” Joe was standing beside him now, so close

that Hoss’ elbow kept tapping him on the head so that he had to push

the boy further away, “Sure I do”

 

He did, he meant it, he missed his brother every bit as much as he

knew he would which had been why he hadn’t wanted him to go.   Pa kept

the routine in the ranch the same and somehow work got done, but there

was something lacking, and it wasn’t just another person missing from

the table.

 

Joe wandered over to the door and stared out to where the sun dappled

the hills far away, and the shadows were long in the yard.  The house

was bathed in the light, the windows sparkled and shone, the roses at

the door now sprawled their way over the porch roof. He sighed “I miss

Ma.  I miss Adam.”

 

“So do I, Short shanks.”

 

Hoss paused, Adam used to call him that, seemed such a long time ago.

He shook his head as though to shake the memory away so as not to hear

that beloved voice, “One of these days Adam will come home, you just

wait and see.”

 

“Ma won’t though, will she?”  Joe asked, looking back over his

shoulder at Hoss who paused in his polishing to stare back at him, and

then shake his head. “No, I didn’t think she would….”

 

Joe trailed out of the stables and slowly made his way to the house,

he had reached the door when he heard the sound of a horse and turned

to see his father riding into the yard.

 

Bens eyes lit up at the sight of the little boy standing on the porch

with a hand raised in greeting and a wide smile on his face.  He

dismounted and tethered the horse to the rail and when Joe ran to him

he stooped down to catch him in the crook of his arm and swing him up

high.  “How’s Joe today?”

 

“I had two doughnuts and I wasn’t sick.” came the quick response.

 

“TWO doughnuts, Hop Sing’s spoiling you, I’ll have to tell him to let

you have only half a one in the future.”

 

“Oh no, Pa, don’t do that, Hop Sing needs me to eat them otherwise he

just gives ;em to the chickens and Hoss.”

 

Ben laughed and set the boy down, Hoss came strolling out of the

stables with a vague smile on his face, tall and broad for his age he

could already be mistaken for a youth much older. It worried Ben at

times as he wondered how his son would handle life in the future when

the settlement really grew, he knew people with Hoss’ trusting nature

were only too easily exploited by the devious and greedy.

 

“I’ve a letter from Adam in my saddle bags.” he said slapping dust

from his pants with the back of his hat, “Shall we go in and read it

while we have some lemonade?”

 

“Is it a long letter, Pa?” Hoss wanted to know with his face alight

with pleasure as Ben produced the envelope.

 

“I don’t know,” Ben replied leading the way inside, “Somehow I’ve

managed to keep myself from opening the envelope and finding out.”

 

Joe ran on in ahead “Hop Sing. Hop Sing. Pa said get some lemonade and

doughnuts.”

 

Hoss followed “Pa’s got a letter from Adam, Hop Sing.”

 

It didn’t take too long to settle around Ben’s big leather chair, Hoss

leaning forwards from the corner of the settee and Joe on his father’s

knee. Breaths were held as Ben ripped open the envelope and drew out

the letter.  He looked at their faces, first Hoss and then down at

Joe’s, he raised his eyebrows teasingly “Shall I read it now?”

 

Joe nodded so vigorously his head nearly fell off and Hoss grinned

shyly and picked up his lemonade with his big blue eyes fixed on his

father’s face so Ben drew in a deep breath and began to read:

 

“Dear Pa, Hoss and Joe

 

It’s been a long winter here in Boston with snow falls regularly from

late December through to February.  I stayed over with Grandfather for

some time during the holiday and write to tell you that despite being

frail and nearly blind he is in good health.

 

My studies are coming along well, I enjoy them.  My room mate here at

the college is not a keen student so I am often left to my own

devices, which means I have the room to myself for study.  Mr. Collins

says I have the makings of a first rate engineer if I keep working at

it, so I don’t intend to slack off now.

 

Boston is a lovely old town, but I like being with Grandfather near

the harbour and the ships. He often tells me about your adventures

with him, Pa, and the things that happened and the places you went to

see.  Sometimes he talks so vividly about these things that it is as

though he really lives them all over again.

 

I have a year left at college now and yet Mr. Phillips is already

asking me what I intend to do in the future.   When I told him I

intended to build a new town back home he kind of smiled, I thought he

was going to pat me on the head and say ‘There, there -’ but if I do

become a qualified architect and engineer where else could I want to

go?

 

Are you all well?  Did you buy the mare you wrote about, and have

there been any more problems with the Paiute?  I daresay Joe and Hoss

have grown some since I left home. Hoss wasn’t too ill with that fever

was he?  I think of you all often, wish I could have some of Hop Sings

home bakes here, the food is pretty dismal.   I can’t write anymore as

the bell has rung for the next study period…

 

Your son/brother

Adam”

 

Ben sighed and folded the letter  back into the envelope.  Another

year away from home, it seemed as though it was going to stretch on

forever.  Joe jumped up and into his father’s lap to put his arms

around his neck and hug him “I’m going to write to Adam and tell him

come home right now.  I don’t want him away anymore.”

 

“Well you can write if you want to, son …”  Ben smiled, and then

looked over at Hoss who was, as usual when they received news from

Adam, quiet and thoughtful. “Alright, son, what’s on your mind?”

 

“Nothing, Pa.” Hoss sighed and reached for his glass, then watched as

Joe ran off to the desk to rummage for paper and pencil.  “I think

I’ll go to bed now, Pa.   Can I write to Adam in the morning?”

 

“As soon as chores are done.”  Ben nodded and watched as his son

trudged up the stairs to his room, he heard the closing of the door

and knew that now he was alone Hoss would give way to his own private

grief, a year to Hoss would be interminably long.

 

 

Chapter 13

 

In the time that he had attended college Adam Cartwright had formed a

close knit group of friends who were of similar age to himself.

Although enjoying their studies they didn’t  neglect the opportunity

of having some form of social life which was far less excessive than

some of the other students who were at the college.  One particular

tavern they enjoyed socialising in was not far from the college

grounds, it was popular with the majority of the young men as lack of

time spent travelling meant more time to enjoy themselves.

 

During one evening when the five youths had taken themselves off to

the tavern for a quiet drink and conversation an altercation arose

when several youths entered the premises with a great deal of swagger,

throwing the door wide so that it slammed against the wall with a

thud.  All those sitting at Adam’s table, including himself, looked

over at the newcomers and audibly sighed.  Carson shook his head and

turned away “It would be him and his toadies.”

 

“Looks like they’ve already been drinking elsewhere.” Hansford mumbled

and pulled his glass closer with one hand while another hand reached

out to protect his books.

 

“I hope he doesn’t see me here,” Carson whispered now, lowering his

head further, “I borrowed some money from him the other day and -”

 

“That was a stupid thing to do,” Adam hissed through clenched teeth,

“You know you should never ask them to bail you out.  Why didn’t you

ask me?”

 

“I was going to but I heard  you tell Edwin that you weren’t in funds

and I needed it desperately.”

 

“Shush, he’s coming over.”  Booth said and pulled his books into his lap.

 

The youth who approached the table was tall and broad shouldered with

a loose mouth and lazy heavy lidded eyes.  In many ways his face told

everybody his character, he was a bully and his two friends backed him

up to the  hilt.  The three of them now stood immediately behind

Carson who had gone pale.  “Carson you little maggot, you owe me some

money.”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry I haven’t got it on me right now.  I’ll pay you as

soon as I have some.”

 

“No excuses, Carson.”  Beau Carlyle sneered with his hand on the other

youths shoulder, “I need that money now.”

 

“He can’t pay it if he hasn’t got it, Carlyle.” Booth said with

unexpected courage.

 

Carlyle turned to look at him, “No?  Well if he hasn’t got it then

perhaps you have?  Come on, Edwin, put your money where your mouth is

and pay  up.”

 

“I don’t see why I should, it’s not my debt.” Booth replied hugging

his books against his chest.

 

“Then why don’t you just sit quiet and keep your mouth shut.” one of

Carlyle’s friends hissed, bringing his face so close that they were

practically nose to nose.

 

Adam placed both his hands on the table’s surface and leaned slightly

forwards “Look, he doesn’t have the money, why not leave him alone and

wait until he has …”

 

Carlyle turned slowly towards Adam as though quite pleased by this new

addition to the controversy, he smiled exposing his excellent teeth

and shook his head “It’s none of your business, Cartwright.  The

maggot owes me a debt and I want it to be paid now.”

 

“He’s already explained that he can’t repay it … now.” Adam responded

narrowing his eyes slightly and raising his glass slowly to his mouth.

 

“Now look here, Cartwright, I’m not going to have you poking your nose

into my business, do  you understand?”  Carlyle stepped closer to

Adam, leaned down slightly to glare into the dark brown eyes and

hoping to see the younger youth flinch.

 

“I don’t like the way you’re bullying a friend of mine, Carlyle.  Why

not do as suggested and wait until he can bring you the money.”

 

“That -” Carlyle hissed lowering his head still further “is not convenient.”

 

“Then I suggest you make it convenient and leave us alone.”

 

Carson and Booth were quickly gathering up their drinks and their

books and edging away from the table, as were Brown and Hunniford.

Students and other revellers were beginning to turn around to see what

was going on as the voices had begun to be heard by those closest to

their table.  Carlyle stepped back, and then without a word raised his

clenched first and brought it down, fast, but Adam had already raised

his arm to block it, from the corner of his eye he saw one of

Carlyle’s friends coming in upon him so he threw the contents of his

glass into that young mans face.

 

“Behind you,” Carson yelled as the other youth threw himself forwards

onto Adams back only to be crushed against the wall as Adam pushed

himself backwards.  Carlyle moved in to throw another punch only for

Adam’s fist to connect with his nose.

 

Even before the landlord had had a chance to come from  behind the

counter the fight was over.  Carlyle held a handkerchief to his nose

to catch the blood and glared over at his antagonist “You’ll regret

that, Cartwright.”

 

Adam twitched a shoulder in a slight wry shrug and resumed his seat,

his friends did likewise looking around to make sure that Carlyle

actually did leave the building. Carson leaned forwards “Thanks for

coming to my help, Adam, but he meant what he said… you’ll have to

watch your back from now on.”

 

Adam beckoned for another glass of beer and looked at Edwin “Go on,

what was that you were saying about Marlowe’s blank verse?”

 

“Oh yes -” Booth stammered and fidgeted , “Er - about his poem

‘Accurse’d is he who first started war …’”

 

He stopped and looked at Adam then began to snigger, whether it was

from the irony of the topic or the relief he felt over the conclusion

of the fight no one knew except that his laughter became contagious so

that soon the five of them were laughing companionably without a

thought of any consequences to what had occurred.

 

Adam thought little of the matter as they strolled back to college

that evening, his hands in his pockets, whistling a popular song while

his friends chattered among themselves. He had had several fights

while at college, mainly when he had first started there,  it was as

though it were some kind of rite of passage, a means of having to

prove himself worthy of being there and not just some backwoodsman

claiming to be something he wasn’t.

 

He had gradually become used to the insults they had thrown at him

about his background for most the students were youths from wealthy

and old Bostonian families who felt the college was ‘lowering the tone

somewhat’ by allowing ’a rustic’ from out in the wilds to join them.

His desire to learn and his willingness to study, coupled with his

natural abilities soon established him as a good student, and with

less taunts coming his way there were fewer reasons for him to resort

to his fists to defend the Cartwright name.

 

It was several nights later when Carson and Adam were strolling back

to college deep in conversation, their hands in their pockets and

their feet more or less finding the route more by habit than anything

else.  They had reached a section that was deep in shadow when several

youths stepped in front of them.  Carlyle, with his usual swagger and

twisted smile took several paces forward and with hands on hips looked

at the two younger men “Well, Carson, I thought you’d have my money

now and - Cartwright - I came to repay you what I owe you.”

 

Adam didn’t have to look behind him to know that several others had

already made an appearance, using the shadows as their allies and

crowding in behind him and Carson. He looked Carlyle with a slight

frown “You don’t owe me anything, Carlyle.”

 

“Oh but I do -” Beau Carlyle sniggered, and clicked his fingers, a

sharp sound that was lost immediately in the noise of feet shuffling

forwards, and then the thud of fists striking flesh, Carson’s yell to

be left alone.

 

The attack could have been prolonged had not a cab driven past and

then halted, its occupant dashing out to yell at the crowd.  Carlyle

and his companions made a quick dash down various alley ways and

eventually slunk their way to their rooms in the college.  Adam and

Carson were left sprawled out on the road with the school Provost

kneeling beside them wondering if he had two corpses on his hands.

 

Sometimes life isn’t a smooth road as Adam knew only too well there

were many a bump and a curve to send one spinning into some cruel cul

de sac.   The matter of the attack was hushed up in as discreet a

manner as possible, the perpetuators never brought to account even

though several sported black eyes and bruises from where Adam and

Carson had struck  back and succeeded in landing some of their blows.

 

Carson was the worse injured and spent several weeks at his home being

cared for by private doctors and nursed gently back to full strength.

Adam was treated at the college and patched up and cared for

adequately but an interview with the Provost left him feeling bitterly

angry at the unfairness of a class system he had not expected to find

in an American school of learning.

 

“You have been accused of brawling, Mr Cartwright.  Twice within a

week you have been at the centre of a brawl, once in Mr Solomon’s club

and again in the street.  It really isn’t what we like our young men

doing, we have the name and reputation of the College to uphold and

consider.”

 

The Provost paced the floor, twirling his spectacles by its thin wire,

his brow furrowed and his mouth thin. Adam stood in the centre of the

room with a straight back and dark thoughts mounting in his mind. “I

didn’t start either of the fights, sir.”

 

The Academic turned and looked at  him thoughtfully, as though seeing

him for the first time.  He liked the look of the youth, tall and

slim, broad shouldered and good looking with an intelligent cast to

his face, he sighed “Beau Carlylle and several others have lodged

complaints against you - “

 

“But they -” Adam paused, there was an honour code among students and

there was little point in bleating innocence and provocation where

Carlyle and his friends were concerned.  Their parents paid so much in

fees and subsidies that they practically owned the building.  He

firmed his lips and frowned, stared at the carpet before raising his

eyes to meet those of the Provost. “Sir, Carson and I were not the

guilty parties in that street fight.”

 

The man sat down at his desk and for a moment said nothing “Look, Mr

Cartwright, you are a very intelligent young man, a good student, I

have nothing but praise for you at the manner in which you have

conducted yourself since coming here.  I know you came with a

disadvantage, your background isn’t -” he paused and frowned again

“well, it isn’t the kind we usually accept here.” he leaned forward

“Believe me, all your lecturers and teachers want  you to succeed, Mr.

Cartwright, they want you to leave here a credit to the school, to

your family - but this brawling has to stop.”

 

Adam nodded and he wondered briefly if the man sitting there at the

desk really understood what actually had taken place, or was he

accepting what he had been told with no questions asked because he

didn’t want to rock the boat just to help out the son of a man who

lived on a ranch in a place no one had heard of - yet.

 

“Sir it seems strange to me that we fought a war not so long ago to

cast off the outmoded caste system of another country and yet here

have adopted one equally as rigid.” he bowed his head and wondered if

the man was expecting an apology if so he was going to have to wait a

long time.

 

“You graduate soon, Mr. Cartwright.” the Provost rose to his feet,

“Try and keep out of trouble from now on, will you?”

 

When Adam reached his room he looked at the books upon his desk and

his first impulse was to thrust them aside - let them fall, let them

tear and rip, he no longer cared, he no longer cared about any of it.

He raised an arm, paused and then slowly lowered it - with a sigh he

walked to the window and looked out to the quadrangle below.  Everyone

knew the source of trouble in this college, everyone knew that - but

it seemed that the god Mammon succeeded in preventing justice even

here.

 

 

Old Abel Stoddard listened to what his grandson told him with his grey

head bowed, occasionally raking his fingers through his beard, nodding

 his head.  It had been some weeks since the incidents had taken place

and although Adam’s anger had subsided there was still a bitterness

against the system rankling within him.  It had been good to be able

to spend time with Abel now, and in the peace and quiet of his home

relate all that had taken place.

 

“My boy, it’s always the same and you’ll find it wherever  you go.

It’s the same kind of thing that happened to me all those years back

when you father married Elizabeth and set up the Chandler’s Store.

Men with money think they can own your very soul, it’s only your own

honesty and strength of character that can win through.  Don’t  allow

yourself to be corrupted by them, son, and don’t waste time being

bitter because sooner or later they have to win battles that even

their money can’t win for them.”

 

Adam stared thoughtfully into the fire’s flames and rubbed his chin “I

guess I haven’t been around enough people in my life, Grandfather, to

be able to get the full measure of them.”

 

“You are more naïve than most,” Abel chuckled, “But I wouldn’t want

you any other way.  Just - just don’t get bitter and angry about this,

Adam.  Put it down to experience, learn from it … you have to learn

from everything that happens in your life, it will add to the stature

of what kind of man you will eventually become in the future.”

 

“But what if it happens again?  I mean this situation with Carlyle … I

can’t just let him beat me.”

 

“There’s more than one way of beating people like him.” Abel replied

and for a few moments  he was silent, then he leaned back into his

chair and smiled “You graduate soon, Adam.  It won’t be long before

your college days will be over, don’t end them under a dark cloud.”

 

Adam said nothing  but some words from Paradise Lost, often quoted by

his Pa slipped into his memory, “The mind is its own place, and in

itself    Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n.”

 

Chapter 15

 

Several things had taken place during Adams absence at his

grandfathers, one of which related very much to his own stand against

Carlyle and his associates.  Although they had swaggered about

sporting their bruises as though victors of a bold campaign, they had

actually advertised the fact that someone had stood up against them

and whether he had been vanquished or not, those previously bullied

felt that they had a champion among them.  Like some medieval rallying

cry these now began to get a little backbone of their own and resist

the demands and cruelties of Carlyles group.

 

Adam’s friends had become aware of what had taken place in the

Provost’s office in that vague way most things trickle through the

ether, and came to the conclusion that their friend had to reach

graduation day without further mishap.  Henceforth he found himself

never alone, always with at least two of his friends alongside him

whether he wanted it or not.

 

He would laugh at them at times and shake his head in despair at

others, but it was a tactic that proved to be necessary as Carlyle’s

authority over the students waned and Adams popularity soared.   With

the cunning of many who were at heart weak he became obsessed with

breaking the other youth, of forcing him into situations that would

disgrace him and see him ’sent packing’.  Encouraged by his associates

he would used every strategy he could think of - jeering, taunting,

even to appearing in groups to challenge him to fight, but Adam,

bristling though he would be, waited and bided his own time.

 

He found himself closely observing the young men who were with Carlyle

so much.  Some were wealthy, old Bostonian families, others were just

weak and too afraid to change.  Often when he was studying for some

class he would find himself thinking about Carlyle, or one of his

friends, trying to find a weak spot, a frailty within them as a group

that would break them down.

 

One morning while strolling through town he noticed Jacob Hardy gazing

rather adoringly at some young lady who was talking animatedly to

Carlyle.  He watched them for a while before continuing onwards,

listening to Booth and Carson as they discussed some text or other.

 

“Who’s that girl Carlyle was talking to just now?” he asked Booth who

looked surprised and glanced over his shoulder at the small group

“It’s his sister.  She’s alright, not like Beau. Why?  Do you - er um

- like her?”

 

Adam shrugged and said nothing but it didn’t take long for Booth to

give him all the information he needed after which he asked his friend

if he knew her well, “She’s interested in theatre, as am I.” Booth

replied, squaring his shoulders and preparing himself for some

teasing.

 

“So you know her, meet her at times?”

 

“Oh yes, in fact I’ll be seeing her tomorrow afternoon.  We’re

rehearsing Romeo and Juliet …” Booth smiled and sighed, “She’s a very

pretty Juliet.”

 

“But you’re not cast as Romeo?” Adam grinned and Carson laughed when

Booth shook his head and said “Sadly not.”

 

 

Later that day Adam saw Hardy sitting alone, his head buried in a

book. Asking his companions to wait awhile Adam approached the other

youth who seeing him immediately sprung to his feet and glanced around

for some assistance, but he found no one near by  so he nervously

stammered “What do you want, Cartwright?”

 

“I was just curious, Hardy.  I heard you were interested in drama,

theatre and was surprised when Booth told me you never got involved in

any of the productions they put on…” he pursed his lips and slipped

his hands into his pockets “It’s a pity because Booth said they’ve

some really pretty girls in the drama group.”

 

“I - well -” Hardy shrugged, “How did you know I was interested in

that kind of thing?”

 

“I saw you talking to Carlyle and his sister and assumed  you knew her

from the theatre group, but then Booth said you weren’t part of it, I

was quite surprised really.”

 

“Huh, well, Carlyle isn’t bothered and - did you say his sister was in

the theatre group?”

 

“Hmmm, she’s rehearsing for their next production - she’s Juliet, a

pretty girl, I guess she’d make quite a stunning Juliet.” he frowned,

“A pity really, you could have been Romeo.”

 

“Yes -” Hardy’s voice trailed off, “Yes, I guess I could have been.”

he licked his lips, “Tomorrow, did you say?”  then his face fell

“She’d not be interested in me.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Why not? Because - because she never notices me when I’m around.”

 

“That’s because you’re always with her brother.  What girl’s

interested in what her brother does?  But they are interested in those

people who show an interest in them and what they’re doing.”

 

“They are?”

 

“Oh yes, certainly -.” Adam nodded as though he was a great authority

on the matter and had seduced most of the girls in town by this ploy.

Hardy nodded and reached out his hand to shake his, thanking him

profusely for the help, then adding “Don’t let Carlyle know, will

you?”

 

Adam assured him he would not tell Carlyle anything at all.

 

Slowly, one by one, with the help of his friends Adam was able to find

some weak chink in the armour of the Carlyle’s little band of merry

men.  One by one they slipped away from him so that he became more and

more isolated within the college grounds.  Even when out and about in

town he was often found walking with a solitary friend who had ’found

the time’ to accompany him.  He was confused and puzzled by this turn

of events and became more bullying and crude as a result, cuffing much

younger students around the head as he passed them, elbowing them

roughly aside in the corridors, and becoming openly more aggressive in

his manner towards all.

 

His once loyal friends having removed themselves from him now began to

see him for what he was, and as a result had even less to do with him.

 

“Cartwright!”

 

Adam turned slowly towards where Carlyle who had burst through the

library door had involuntarily spat out his name when seeing Adam

seated at a desk studying.  Immediately there was a loud hiss from all

around as students and librarians tried to remind him that the rule

was for silence in the library.

 

He walked up to Adam’s desk and grasped hold of the younger youths

jacket, “Don’t think I don’t know what you have been up to,

Cartwright.  I’ve seen how you’ve been creeping up to my friends -”

 

“What friends are they then, Carlyle?” Adam asked quietly pulling

himself away from the fist that gripped his jacket so tightly.

 

“You think you’re so clever, huh?  Think you’re the better of me?  Let

me tell you, Cartwright, you’ll never be better than me, do you

understand?”

 

“Not really.” Adam smoothed down his lapels and shrugged “Better than

you at what?”

 

Carlyle stared at him for an instant, his face blank, devoid of

emotion.  He shook his head, “Better than me in every way you can

think of .”

 

“Well, when I think of you, Carlyle, there isn’t anything about you

that I would want to be better at …thanks anyway.” he lowered his

head, put a hand to his brow and concentrated on the book he was

reading as though the other young man had already gone away.

 

Carlyle pulled the book away and with a growl of frustration threw it

with all his might at the book shelves opposite them.  Having done

that he turned and walked with as much swagger as possible from the

room.

 

Not long after that Beau Carlyle left the college.

 

Graduation day came with blue skies, sunshine and the heady smell of

flowers in the air.  Abel Stoddard took his seat among the family and

friends of the students and listened to the speeches with a pride in

his heart that made his eyes dim.  He looked at the rows of students

in their caps and gowns, saw his grandson among them and wiped a tear

from his eyes.

 

Earlier that day he had stood at Elizabeth’s grave, one gnarled hand

resting upon the headstone at the base of which he had placed a posy

of white lily of the valley. “Well, my dear,” he said softly, “We’ve

done it.  Our boy has his graduation today, who would have thought it

after all these years but, my goodness, he has worked hard to achieve

it, my dear, really worked hard.  He has a love of learning, Liz, just

like you always had … I kept my promise, dearie, I kept my promise …”

 

He was still thinking of her when Adam made his appearance on the

platform, accepted his diploma, thanked the Provost and walked on.  He

had passed with honours, and one distinction in Maths.  It was a

strange thing that as he walked away and joined the others in tossing

his hat in the air, he could only think that now - he could go home.

 

 

Leaving New England was delayed by Abel’s illness, in a letter to his

father and brothers he told them that he would be staying until his

grandfather was well enough to be left or travel back to the Ponderosa

with him.

 

Chapter 16

 

Winter came with a screeching whirling blizzard that sounded like a

thousand devils beleaguering the house that Adam built.  In his room

Joe shivered and tried to close his ears to the sounds as snow and

wind tried to force an entry by any means possible. He put his hands

over his ears and burrowed below the quilts but still the monster

howled at his window.

 

Hoss Cartwright inwardly groaned as he heard, above the roar of the

wind, the pitter patter of his brother’s not so tiny feet.  He tensed

his body in preparation for the quilts being lifted as Joe threw them

back …”You gotta come in and disturb my sleep, Little Joe?”

 

“I - I’m cold.”

 

“So’m I.”

 

“I can’t get my teeth to stop chattering.”

 

“Wal, I ain’t hearing nothing from ‘em jest quit your jawing will ya

and get into bed. Don’t -” too late “put your feet on mine.  Goshdarn,

Little Joe, do you always have to do that?”

 

Joe huddled down as close to Hoss as he possibly could, and waited for

the shivering to stop which it always did within minutes because Hoss

was never cold, he may have said he felt the cold, but his body was

always perfectly warm.  Joe closed his eyes and sighed contentedly

“Hoss, will the wind blow the roof off?”

 

“No.”

 

“You sure?  The shingles sure are rattling about some.”

 

“That was probably your teeth you heard …git to sleep.”

 

“But Hoss, that door is sure banging something fierce.  Do you think

it’ll be alright? It won’t open up will it?”

 

“Pa’s got a bar across it.” Hoss mumbled, itched his nose and screwed

up his eyes.

 

“Hoss -”

 

“I don’t want to know.”

 

“Yeah, but -”

 

“Go to sleep.”

 

A thud and a bang startled them both and they lay there together eyes

wide open, staring into the darkness listening to the storm.

Gradually their heart beats settled down and they sunk back into the

pillow “Reckon it was the outhouse agin.” Hoss muttered.

 

Joe rolled his eyes and winced, what a time to mention the outhouse …

 

In the large room where Ben slept the sound of the storm made little

difference.  To a man who had sailed the seas, been shipwrecked in the

Magellan Straits and travelled in a wagon across the country one storm

was much like any other, the louder the thuds and bangs the louder Ben

snored.

 

For Hop Sing it was a problem.  He lay awake, prayed to his ancestors

and closed his eyes. He opened them again and stared at the ceiling

and muttered imprecations galore.  Eventually he got up and went into

the kitchen to light the stove.  The rooms were so cold that even in

his quilted outer coat over his dressing gown over his nightshirt he

was shivering.

 

He stood in the middle of the big room and shook his head “Room too

big.” he mumbled, “Too big, too cold.  Take too much fire to get warm.

Not good.”

 

Having made his usual comment about the room dimensions he lit the

stove in the area where Ben worked and waited for the little flicker

of flame to reward him.  He nodded, that was good, the fire hadn’t

gone entirely out.  Going to the big fireplace he moved the logs a

little and then got the bellows to work in order to get life from the

embers that still glowed there.  Every night he banked up the fires

but often times in this intensity of cold they would be dead in the

morning.  Once the flames were strong enough he placed logs upon them

and then returned to the kitchen.

 

The blizzard had blown hard for several days and when morning came all

four of them were sure that it would have died away and gone somewhere

else.  The warmth of the rooms due to Hop Sings vigil over the fires

was misleading for when they stopped to listen the roar of the wind

continued unabated.  Joe scowled “I told you it was still storming.”

 

“I heard ya, I jest didn’t want to have to agree with you, is all.”

Hoss replied giving Joe a little push to move him along to the table.

 

Ben was quiet through the meal, he answered the boys in short abrupt

words and then resumed his thinking, he finally put down his cup and

went over to the front door and opened it.  The wind was almost

gleeful as it hurled itself against him and sent him staggering back

several paces, snow blew into the room and danced around him, seeking

corners and places to sink into.

 

He slammed the door shut and after an effort managed to place the bar

across it.  “We need more wood from the barn, and we need to check the

cow …” he rubbed his hands together and looked at his sons who were

staring round eyed at him.  He knew there was no point in sending Joe

who would have been blown away in such a wind but Hoss was big and

strapping, considered a man in the world of that day.  Hoss nodded

“Sure, I’ll get onto it right away, Pa.”

 

“Finish  your meal first.”

 

For some moments there was no sound other than that of everyone

eating, the rattle of cups upon saucers and of cutlery.  Finally Hoss

set down his napkin and stood up, stretched and yawned, “Shucks, Pa, I

think the outhouse blew away in the gale last night, you want me to

check on that too.”

 

“Mmm, had better.” Ben said with a slight scowl, and then rose to his

feet and walked with Hoss to where their coats and mufflers were “I’ll

come with you.”

 

“Hey, Pa, ain’t no need -”

 

“Every need, Hoss, I don’t want you -”

 

“I ain’t gonna blow away, Pa.” Hoss put a placating hand on his

father’s chest, “Jest  you stay indoors some and I’ll go and look

see.”

 

“Hoss,” Ben pulled up his coat, “I’m coming with you.”  he turned back

to where Joe was standing watching them both “Joseph, you write out

your letters from that primer I got you, you understand?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

The wind was bitterly cold, it caught at their breaths and whipped the

words out of their mouths.  By holding onto the line they had

previously rigged up they were able to reach the stables and check on

the horses, then onto the barn to see to the milk cow.  She wasn’t

happy, half the roof had been ripped away and she was huddled in a

corner behind some hay bales.  “Must have been what we heard last

night.” Hoss shouted in his father’s ear.

 

The barn was moving from the force of the wind that was blowing into

it from the gap in the roof.  As it sought a way out so it was pushing

at the boards so that they creaked one way, and then another.  Ben

tapped his son on the shoulder “We’ll have to board up the hole from

inside, otherwise the whole lot will  be ripped apart.”

 

It took far longer to achieve than they thought although the danger

was less by working on it from inside the building the wind was still

strong, strong enough to blow them one way and then the other, more

than once they were sent tumbling over but both men were strong and

succeeded in boarding the gap.  Ben shook  his head “It doesn’t  look

pretty but it’ll do.”

 

The outhouse was still standing although with a precarious lean which

they decided to leave as the cold was becoming too severe and quickly

they made their way to the woodshed, sliding and slipping as they

went, pushed this way and the other by the wind. Loaded down with

clean dry logs they fought their way back to the house and finally,

gratefully, slammed the door shut behind them.

 

By the fire Joe had fallen asleep, his pencil in his hand and his

primer ignored.  Instead there was a drawing of what might have been

Hoss and Pa going out into the snow and under it he had written “Der

Adam, it is snowing bad and hard. Pa and Hoss have gone to get logs

for the fire. I think the outhoose blewed away. There was a bang lars

nite are you having snow too? Your b…”

 

Hoss picked it up and grinned “Say, Pa, he’s gitting mighty good with

his spelling ain’t he?”

 

 

When the blizzard had blown itself out Ben mounted his horse and with

Tom Riley beside him took the trail to the meadow where he had his

cattle. Behind them on a sled piled with hay was Hoss, his strong

young wrists handling the team with a steadiness that gave them

confidence to fight the bright whiteness.

 

Ben had taken a gamble and decided that the land would be good as

grazing land and earlier that year had  bought a hundred head of

cattle. It had been good prime beef and from those he had hoped to

build up a far greater herd, eventually perhaps even introduce a

hardier strain by buying up purer stock.

 

The horses had to struggle through the snow, sometimes it was chest

high, sometimes they fell into drifts and the riders had to dismount

and tumble about some before they were  hauled out and steady enough

to proceed.

 

They sat in the saddle and looked at the cattle, Hoss clambered down

from the sled and pushed his way through the snow to stand beside his

father “What happened to them?” he asked as he stared at the animals

dead in the snow.

 

Tom Riley pointed to a thicket where several animals stood lowing

mournfully over at them. Some had survived and Hoss hauled out the hay

and began to scatter it over the snow for them but they were hesitant

about moving forwards until a  young heifer forged a way and began to

eat.

 

Tom Riley eased his back and shook his head after he had checked over

the dead animals.   There were over 60 sprawled out as stiff as though

they had been in an abattoir and hung up in an ice house.  Ben looked

defeated, tired and beaten “Well, what did happen to them?”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cartwright, ain’t nothing you could have done for them

except maybe have them all in a barn warm and cosy like.”

 

“A hundred head?” Ben barked, angry with himself, angry at the loss of

the cattle, the waste of money, and angry at the blizzard that had

blown for over a week.

 

“As I said nothing  you could do about it.  The cold weather, the ice

-” he scratched his head before quickly replacing his hat “Seen it

before, the ice forms from their breathing, it covers their mouths and

nostrils and they gradually suffocate.  Can’t eat, can’t move, can’t

breathe so they just stand and freeze to death. The ice is like a

glass muzzle, thick and hard, ain’t nothing they can do to get it

off’n ‘em.”

 

He surveyed Ben thoughtfully and then turned away to help Hoss with

the hay which the surviving animals were now eating, pushing each

other aside in order to reach it.  He thought that Ben had learned a

hard lesson this winter, but he knew the man well enough to know that

he’d not be beaten, even if he felt that he was at the moment.  This

kind of thing happened to a lot of cattlemen and as far as Tom was

concerned Ben Cartwright had come out of it better than most.

…………….

 

Adam Cartwright looked at the two letters in his hand and then sat

down again at the table in his grandfathers house.  One letter was

from the Provost of his college telling him that he  had met with a

friend, a prominent architect, who needed an apprentice. He had taken

the opportunity of putting Adam’s name forward.   The second letter

was from the architect himself, a Cyril Monroe a partner in the

company of Monroe, Norton & Co. the most important firm of architects

in Boston.  Referring to the Provost Mr Monroe informed Adam that if

he were interested in a position with the company would he please

attend the offices at 10 a.m on the 23rd of the month.  Mention was

made of the high respect the Provost had for him, speaking very highly

of him indeed.

 

He set the two letters down and then turned to look at his grandfather

who was nodding in sleep by the fire.  Outside a fierce wind raged

hurling snow against the windows, but inside was warm and although the

casements rattled no draughts found their way through to disturb the

old man.

 

He leaned back into his chair and pushed the letters to one side

before bowing his head into his hands.  It seemed as though everything

was pushing him away from the very thing he most wanted to do, and

that was to get home.

 

Chapter 17

 

With some skilful manouvring Ben, Hoss and Tom were able to get the

remaining cattle down to the meadow that was closer to the ranch thus

enabling them to get feed to them more regularly through the remainder

of the winter.  Even as they ploughed their way through the snow

encouraging the cows forwards Ben was scanning the skies for any sign

of another storm.  It was possible that there would be nothing for a

few days, but weather was unpredictable along the Tahoe.

 

“What are we going to do about those dead cows, Pa?” Hoss asked.  He

was breathing heavy, the effort of the task had taxed even his

strength.  His team of two horses pulling a now empty sled had forged

on through the snow bravely enough but had floundered into drifts

occasionally which had overturned the lightweight sled meaning he had

to fight the horses and the snow to get it upright again.

 

“I was wondering about that …” Ben glanced over at Tom who was leaning

upon his saddle horn listening to them talking, “Tom, what do you

suggest?  You’re an old hand at this kind of thing, what do you think

we should do?”

 

“Wal, the men at the Washoe Diggings would sure be grateful for some

meat right now but I can’t be sure you’d be able to get to them with

the snow cutting off the passes as it has.” he pushed back his hat and

scratched his head, “Best burn ‘em.”

 

“What?  Just burn them like in a bonfire?” Hoss said screwing up his

face as though what he heard didn’t make sense to him.

 

“Nothing else for it.” Tom replied, “You’ll get the scavengers coming

soon, they’ll come out and gorge on the carcasses, and then next thing

 you know they’ll be down hunting the cattle that you’ve still got

alive.”

 

Ben nodded although he looked thoughtful and not so sure as to the

veracity of what Tom was saying.   He looked at Hoss as though for

inspiration and then nodded as though his mind were made  up “Look,

Hoss, do you think you would be able to get to some of the other

homesteaders around here and see if they need some meat?  The Dents

may be needing some, they don’t seem to have done so well during the

year … and check on the Hawkins as well.”

 

He paused and looked at his son anxiously, then shook his head and

laid a hand on his arm, “I don’t want you to go alone, Hoss.  Perhaps

I should get someone else to do it.”

 

“No, Pa, it’s alright, I can do it.” Hoss replied for he was always

eager to prove that he could act as old as people assumed him to be,

which was a deal older than his 14 years.

 

“Tom, what do you think?”

 

His older companion rubbed his jaw, “Wal,” he drawled as usual, “I

don’t rightly know, Ben, the snows deep in places and if another storm

blows could be pretty tricky.  It’s quite a distance to those other

homesteads as well, and you got -”

 

“Sure, alright I see what you’re thinking.” Ben nodded then remounted

his horse “Alright, Hoss, let’s get home and warm up.  Those cattle

are so frozen stiff they won’t be going no place for some while yet.”

 

 

During the coming four days when there was a calm in the weather Ben

was able to send some of the frozen meat to those of his neighbours

who were still accessible and not cut off by the snows.  Some had not

seen fresh meat since the beginning of the snows so the sight of the

frozen creatures was more than just a source of wonderment.

 

When the Paiute noticed the sleds being hauled with their frozen

consignments from the Ponderosa they promptly reported back to Chief

Truckee who sent emissaries to Ben pleading for assistance as the

winter was harsh for them also, and hunting had been curtailed due to

the dangers of the weather.  His pleas did not fall on deaf ears as

Ben, Hoss and several of their men saw to the delivery of cattle to

the Chief who, humbled by the white mans generosity admitted that had

the people not been close to starvation pride would have prevented him

from ‘asking’ for the help given.

 

When the next storms came it seemed as though the world was blanketed

with white, only the tallest trees still stood proud casting their

long blue shadows across the snow covered landscape.

 

…………………..

 

Cyril Monroe liked to talk.  He talked about the weather, the founding

of the company, how he had graduated from the same school as Adam

fifteen years previously and on what good terms he happened to  be

with the Provost.  Adam sat in the hard backed chair with one leg

crossed over the other and his hands folded in his lap.  He waited for

the inevitable questions while he listened with half an ear to the

man’s ramblings.

 

The office was large and ostentatious.  It had all the trappings of a

company that had been and still was successful.  Upon the walls were

framed documents and testimonials and diploma’s with their red wax

seals proudly proclaiming the company’s prestigious position in the

world of architecture and engineering.  Adam looked at them, his eyes

wandering from one to the other as Cyril continued to chatter.

 

“Now, let’s come to you, shall we?”

 

The question came out of the blue and for a moment Adam had to bring

back his attention from his private thoughts about Cyril , the office

and the interview to look at the little man seated  behind the big

desk.  He nodded, smiled, and waited.  “The Provost tells me that you

have an unusual background -  from someplace in Utah I  believe?”

 

“My father owns land there.”

 

“Really?  What does he do there?  Farm?  Er  … agriculture is it?”

 

“Timber, and horses.”  Adam answered for he was not yet aware of Ben’s

cattle enterprise.  “We catch horses for trade with the army.”

 

Cyril’s brow creased in curiosity “So you’re not -   farmers?”

 

“No.”  Adam’s lips thinned “We’re not farmers.”

 

“Why did you come to Boston, Mr. Cartwright? All this way, an arduous

journey for a young man.”

 

“My grandfather wanted me to get an education here.  I was born in New

England, he wanted me to have an education worthy of -” he paused ,

worthy of what? Worthy for a Cartwright, what would that mean to a

self seeking little man like Cyril Monroe. He cleared his throat, “My

grandfather wanted me  here.”

 

“And why architecture?”

 

“I’ve always wanted to be an architect, ever since -” he paused again,

ever since way back as a child, would Cyril Monroe be interested in

that? “I met a man once who showed me how to design a house and that

interested me…”

 

“How many houses have you designed yourself, back there in your

wilderness, Mr. Cartwright?”

 

Adam looked at Mr. Monroe and knew that the man had granted this

interview based on his acquaintance with the Provost, not because he

was interested in furthering a young mans dream or future.   He could

sense the antipathy with which Monroe was struggling to hide behind a

pretence of interest and slowly he stood up, pursed his lips slightly

and looked directly into the other mans’ face “I’ve designed one

house.  Only one… so far that is …”

 

“Just the one? Well, some of the men we have interviewed …”

 

“It’s alright, Mr. Monroe, you don’t have to say anything else. I

appreciate the time you have given me, but I realise that anything

more would be a waste of your time and mine.” he picked up his hat and

the envelope that contained all the pertinent papers that Monroe had

requested, “I don’t really belong here.” he murmured.

 

“You have a lot of promise, Mr. Cartwright,” Monroe rose to his feet

and extended his hand “I do wish you every success and I’m sure …”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Monroe.” Adam cut him short, shook the proffered hand

briefly and quickly left the room.

 

Once outside he released his breath and stood still, he looked up at

the sky and remembered the day his father had cut down the first tree

for their house.  He could hear Bens voice now saying that at last the

dream had become reality, and how he had looked, so proud, so happy.

Adam placed his hat upon his head and pulled up the collar of his

coat, he needed to get home, to his father and brothers, to the house

he had built.

 

……………

 

Abel Stoddard listened out for the quick confident steps of his

grandson and smiled to himself that secret smile of pride a man feels

for the younger ones they love.  He heard the door open and close

before turning to look at the youth as he stepped into the room, “Did

it go well, my boy?”

 

Adam forced a smile and nodded as he removed his outer garments and

hung them upon the peg, he looked at the old man and stepped up

towards him “Are you feeling alright, Grandfather?”

 

“I’m tired, Adam, that’s all.  Come and sit down and tell me all about

it?  What was the office like?  Is it as grand as I’ve heard tell it

to be?”

 

Gently Adam helped Abel back into his chair and then after making sure

that he was settled he tended the fire, putting on more logs so that

there was a good blaze going within a few moments.  He frowned and

glanced at Abel as the thought crossed his mind that even the simple

task of placing logs on the fire was now  beyond the frail old mans

abilities.  Had he now returned now the fire would have gone out and

the house settled into one so cold that Abel would have easily become

ill.

 

He brushed the dust from the logs from his hands and then sat in the

chair opposite his grandfather and answered his questions, Abel nodded

enthusiastically, his eyes watered, his lips trembled as did his

hands.  “Yes, yes, and did they say you could work there?  Did you get

the position?  You should you know, you’re perfectly qualified.”

 

“I didn’t want the position, Grandfather.” Adam said honestly and then

saw the dismay on the old man’s face, the shadow of fear passed across

it before it was replaced by the mans’ stubborn thrust of a jaw and

tilt of the chin as he questioned him as to why “Because I’m not in

Mr. Monroe’s class, Grandfather, I don’t quite come from the right

background.”

 

“Nonsense, damned nonsense.” Abel said and slapped the arm of his

chair with his fist, “I can remember Cyril Monroe when he was running

around in short pants and hanging onto his mother’s skirts. Who does

he think he is …”

 

“It’s alright, Grandfather.” Adam reached out a hand which he placed

on Abels trembling fist, “It’s alright.”

 

“No, it’s not.  You’re Elizabeth’s son, you’ve worked all these years

to get  your qualifications and no pompous ass is  going to stop you

getting that position. I’ll write to him myself and tell him -”

 

“Grandfather, don’t.   I - well - to be honest I wouldn’t want to work

there. I couldn’t work there.” he added with more firmness in his

voice and again he saw that fear shadow Abels face and he smiled “it’s

alright, I won’t leave you, Grandfather. I won’t be going just yet.”

 

“Well, who spoke of you going?  You know you don’t have to go, you’ll

always have a home here. This is your home.” Abel blustered and his

cheeks reddened and he shook his head, “don’t fear, Adam, this is your

home.”

 

Adam nodded, smiled but inwardly he thought no, it isn’t … he looked

at the old man with the trembling hands and frail body and leaned back

in the chair.  For a while he would be staying here, because this old

man needed him for now;  it wouldn’t be for long though and then he

would be able to go home.

 

Chapter 18

 

Some time before Adam Cartwright was born his grandfather sat on a

bollard on the quayside and stared out across the harbour to the far

off horizon.  It seemed to him that no matter how he had tried he

could no longer hear the sea calling his name and so he had changed

his way of living as a result.

 

Now his grandson sat on that same bollard and stared across the

harbour with his arms folded across his chest and his thoughts more on

the family so far away than on the old man struggling to live in the

house close by.   He had felt restless for so long now, even before

graduation he had had that longing to push away the buildings, the

congested streets and the cluttered  up skyline.  He wanted to breathe

the pine scented air of Ponderosa pines wafting down the valley on the

winds from the sierra’s.  He longed to mount a horse and gallop out

into the wilderness, the vastness beyond towns and railway lines and

all the contrivances of the modern age that seemed to slow people down

here in this vast metropolis.

 

“I need to be free of here, it’s choking me, and I want to go home.”

was like a chorus line from a song that went round and round in his

head so that he felt he was banging his head against a brick wall

because he couldn’t dislodge the thought.

 

He was getting to his feet when he saw fat Mrs Jackson hurrying

towards him, her face creased with anxiety and concern and by the time

he had met her half way across the wharf she seized his hands

“Mr.Adam, it’s time, he’s calling for you.”

 

 

Abel Stoddard could hear the sound of the footsteps coming up the

stairs, a man’s tread but light in their haste to reach him quickly.

He could sense his grandsons anxiety in the way he rushed to the

bedside and reached for his hands and he nodded as though in an

attempt to reassure him that it was alright, everything was alright.

 

He could no longer see the face he loved of this young man but he

could imagine it clearly;  the black hair that curled around the nape

of his neck and the dimples in the lean cheeks, the dark eyes, so like

Elizabeths, tender and gentle … just like Elizabeths he thought again

and he reached out with his hands and felt them taken in Adam’s. The

strength of the young man was such a contrast to the frail hands of

the grandfather and for a moment Abel relished the feel of them, the

strength and vigour of those fingers, he could feel the pulse beating

through them and smiled “Adam, you’re so young, so much more to do

yet.”

 

His voice was like a thin reed and Adam had to bend low to catch the

words, over his head he glanced at the doctor and Mrs Jackson, the

first shook his head and the latter buried her face in her apron.

Abel squeezed feebly his beloved grandsons fingers “So proud of you,

boy.  Elizabeth - so proud of you - I dream of my ship sailing on the

dark seas, and I wonder if one day I will ever see her again.”

 

“You will, grandfather, you will …” Adam whispered and looked at his

grandfather with such intensity as though to burn the image of his

features into his brain so that they would never be forgotten.

 

“Adam -” Abel paused, there was something he needed to say, something

he felt was important but which slipped away from his memory now,

there were sounds like the ebbing of the sea whooshing in and out, in

and out, softly drawing away his very being, he drew in a deep breath

and his grip on Adams hands tightened as though in protest at being

taken away now, he wanted to stay, just a little longer.

 

Adam waited for some moments before the doctor touched him on the

shoulder, nodded in that way so many doctors had from generations upon

generations ago, and he knew then Abel Stoddard had gone, but he still

sat there holding the frail old hands .

…………….

 

Ben Cartwright rode his fine buckskin horse through the turmoil of the

mining camp while beside him Hoss, mounted on a handsome black horse,

loped by his side.  It had grown in size, it seemed to them both that

there were more men than ever, and some women also with children

struggling through the cloying mud that tugged at their skirts as they

strode through the narrow passages between claims.

 

There was just a huddle of tarpaulin covered shanties, wagons with

their canvas covers stretched out to act as the roof over their claim,

it was squalid and unpleasant. Camp fires belched smoke and there was

a smell hanging about the area that was far from pleasant.

 

He paused to ask a tall thin man if he could tell him where the doctor

lived and a thin boney finger pointed to a wooden clad timber frame

building some distance from them.  Ben directed his horse to the

doctors office and dismounted, looked around him and then looked  up

at Hoss “Well, what do you think?”

 

“Not much, makes me want to get back home - quick.”

 

Ben smiled, a fleeting smile as he turned to open the door and enter

the room.  He soon came back out again “what’s wrong, Pa?”

 

“One doctor and about fifty patients jammed pack tight in there like

sardines.” came the reply, he looked up and down the churned up mud of

a thoroughfare and shook his head “Something needs to be done to get

some order into this.”

 

“Folks are following their dreams, Pa.” Hoss muttered leaning onto the

pommel of his saddle and smiling down at his father.

 

“That’s alright if it isn’t all one and the same dream, Hoss.” he

sighed and shook his head, looked up and down and then froze to the

spot as two men rolled out of some tented affair with the signpost

“Bucket of Blood” sprawled on it in red paint.  The two men were

hitting out at each other, swearing and cursing as they did so.  Even

as Ben watched another few men came out, bottles or glasses in their

hands to watch and cheer the fight on.

 

It ended when one of the men didn’t get back up on his feet upon which

the others cheered the winner and trooped back into the makeshift

saloon.  Ben and Hoss walked over to the other man and turned him onto

his back.  Hoss looked at his father who shook his head “He’s dead.”

 

They looked at the body, from what they could discern through the mud

that caked his face and clothing the man was young, no doubt only a

few years older than Hoss.  Even as they looked a man in a black suit

bustled up and elbowed them away, he was the undertaker and didn’t

want anyone interfering in his business.

 

As Ben turned to go into the saloon the undertaker grabbed at his arm

“Wouldn’t do that, Mister, if I were you.  You won’t be thanked and

could well end up next in the row to this one.” he indicated the dead

body whose pockets he was rifling through, he gave an exclamation of

delight at finding some papers on the lads jacket “Ah, Jethro

O’Connell.” he nodded to himself, stuffed the papers in his own pocket

and looked at Hoss, “You look like a strong strapping fellow, pick him

up and carry him over to my place would you?”

 

Hoss looked at Ben who reluctantly nodded and then turned to walk

alongside the other man, “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

 

“What?  People getting shot, stabbed, beaten to death, killed in the

mud and slime of the mines they’re tunnelling?”

 

“Yes -”

 

“All the time.  The doctors keep busy trying to keep them alive, and

I’m kept busy burying ‘em.  Half the time there isn’t anyone to pay

the funeral costs either.  I just pocket their claim and sell it on.”

he stopped in front of a tarpaulin covered tent, large and commodious

and when Ben and Hoss stepped inside quite filled with coffins.  “I

hardly have time to make new ones.” the undertaker said, “They’re for

the folk with relatives here, others get -” he jerked his thumb over

to a pile of jute sacks.

 

Hoss gently laid the young man, Jethro O’Connell upon a table

consisting of several thick slabs of wood. “Ain’t there any law here

yet?”

 

“No.  A Circuit Marshal comes around once a year for a few months but

that only started up before the winter set in.  He hasn’t got here

yet.”

 

Ben shook his head and looked down at the dead youth, then beckoned to

Hoss to follow him, “We’ll get what we need and then head back home.”

 

It was miserable and disconcerting to see the changes on the Washoe.

Within such a short time so many people had thrust their way into the

area.  He was not to know that in a few more years when it was

confirmed there was gold in the area that there would be even more

people flooding in to grab their stake, and that one day a man called

Henry Comstock would discover one of the largest nuggets of gold that

would trigger off the biggest gold strike in American history.  Times

were changing… and Ben didn’t feel convinced that they were changing

for the better.

 

……………………

 

“Was it horrible, Hoss, was it?” Joe tagged behind his brother having

listened with ghoulish horror and fascination at Hoss’ tale of the sad

demise of Jethro O’Connell.

 

“Yes, it was.” Hoss replied simply and continued currying his horse

with a vigour that indicated a more subconscious desire to be rid of

the mud and filth it had collected in that ride through the diggings.

 

Joe found a stack of straw to sit on and swung his legs too and fro

his face puckered in concentration, “Did he just fall down then, did

the man shoot him?”

 

“No he didn’t shoot him, they jest fought and then he fell down into

the mud -” Hoss glanced up and stared at the roof of the stables as

though a thought had just struck him as significant, “I think he was

smothered by the mud, Joe.”

 

Joe nodded sagely, and looked out of the stable doors at the churned

up mud in the yard. The snows had left their evidence in passing, he’d

slipped in the mud himself only the previous day and got a scolding

from Hop Sing for the mess he had made of his pants as a result.

 

“Did he swallow it then?” he swung the question back at his brother

who sighed deeply and straightened his back.

 

“Look Joe, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, alright?”

 

Joe nodded and swung his feet some more as he plucked straw from the

stack and twisted it round and round in his fingers “Hoss?”

 

“What now?”

 

“Pa says I ain’t allowed to go to the diggings.”

 

“Good, it ain’t the place for you, Pa’s right, you stay clear, you hear me?”

 

Joe shrugged as if he could go anywhere by himself, there was always

someone with him because even though he was a big boy now of 9 years

of age he was slight of build and Ben was over protective of him since

Marie’s death.  He knew there were wild animals in the woods, he knew

there were savage Indians who would delight in carrying him off after

all he was constantly being reminded of the time the Bannocks carried

off a whole family some years ago, a woman and her sons and daughter.

Sometimes Ben forgot to mention that they had made a safe return just

to pound it into Joe’s stubborn little head that if any Paiute or

Bannock or even Shoshone got hold of him they probably would keep him

for good.

 

He felt it was unfair, but refrained from protesting too much after

all he loved his home, he loved his Pa and brother it was just that at

times Ben was just too restrictive - that was Joe’s opinion anyway.

Hoss rubbed his head making his dark blond hair stand on end as he did

so “Reckon Pa will let you go along sometime, shortshanks.  You just

got to be patient.”

 

Joe knew Hoss was right and chewed on the tip of the straw before

falling back upon the stack and staring up at the rafters, he could

see where light shone through a small hole, it shone down pure

sunlight so that he could see dust motes dancing in the air.  “I wish

I was growed up now.”

 

“You’ll be growed up soon enough,” Hoss muttered, “Now why don’t you

get yourself up and do some work around here?”

 

Joe sighed, was there a worse hard done by lad than him alive ?  He

didn’t think so.

 

Chapter 19

 

The young man sat with his heavy coat wrapped around him to keep out

the rain and his hat lowered, when the brim was full of rain water he

tilted his head forwards so that it would sluice out between his legs

onto the well beneath the wagon seat.  He sat patiently listening to

the driver talking about his claim, his wife, his son as though no one

else possessed such things themselves, nor wanted to either.

 

Every so often the waggoner would spit tobacco juice into the wind

which caused his young passenger to turn his head aside and twitch his

shoulders.  He was broad minded enough and didn’t object to whatever

habits other people indulged in but preferred not to be such a close

witness to some of them.

 

It had been a chance encounter with old Roy Hayes in San Francisco

that had enabled Adam Cartwright to get this ride into Eagle Station

which was now developing into a trading post and the rain had started

to fall not far from the huddle of buildings that could be seen on the

horizon.  He had learned from Hayes that the diggings along the Washoe

was a rowdy dangerous place to be and if a man wanted to grow to full

height he avoided it like the plague.

 

By the time they actually arrived at the trading post the rain had

stopped, Adam was able to reshape his hat and shake his coat out,

retrieve his luggage and make his way into the building.  He knew all

the history of this place, about the bald eagle that had been shot by

one of Fremonts men and that was why they named it Eagle Station.  He

had followed the exploits of Fremont and Kit Carson, his scout, ever

since they had arrived in the Washoe valley, even at college he had

continued to read about their exploits with a wry smile remembered the

mans claim that they were the first white men to see Lake Tahoe.  Ben

Cartwright could have proven him wrong on that score had he had a mind

to do so …

 

 

It was noon and upon his request for a horse he was asked to show the

colour of his money first before being taken to see what was

available.   If the wagon had taken him to the diggings his ride would

have been far shorter but Hayes had his claim in a more private area,

a wink of the eye and a tapping of the nose was the closest Adam got

to finding out where it could have been.  The trader leaned upon his

counter and looked the young man up and down “You reckon you know

where you’re headed?”

 

“Yes.  Thank you.”  Adam glanced up at the shelf “And I’ll have that

rifle and some ammunition.”

 

A man lolled close by, elbows hooked over the counter and nodded “You

likely able to hit whatever it is you’re aiming at?”

 

“Do you want me to have to prove it on your hide?” Adam replied

levelly as he took the rifle from the trader and checked it for

balance. He squinted along the barrel and nodded with satisfaction,

then paid over his money.

 

“Where you headed for anyhow, boy?”  another man asked not

ungraciously and stepped away from the door against which he had been

lounging to come closer.

 

“The Ponderosa.” Adam replied letting the words roll from his tongue

with a great sense of pleasure.

 

“The Cartwright’s place?” this man asked and stepped closer, eyeing

Adam up and down, “You related to Ben Cartwright?”

 

“I am.” Adam took his change and turned to the trader “I’d like to see

about that horse now, mister, and I’ll need a saddle and everything

else as well.”

 

The man who had shown so much curiosity now stepped in front of Adam

and once again looked him over with a narrow eyed look on his face

“You Ben Cartwright’s eldest boy, the one they call Adam?”

 

“I am.” Adam replied and “If you don’t mind now, I’d like to get

myself a horse before this days over.”

 

Some of the men in the trading post exerted themselves enough to watch

him ride away, one muttered that he hadn’t known Ben Cartwright had

another son, always thought it was just the two, but Ephraim Dent had

remembered the boy who had come with his father to build the chimney

in his home.  He stood by the door with the other men and watched the

young man ride away before turning back into the interior of the

building.

 

 

Adam made his way carefully from the trading post following along the

faint track that wagon wheels had made over time but keeping his eyes

open for the one trail that would lead him in the right direction.

Every so often he paused along the track to wait a while behind some

boulder or tree just in case he had been followed for he didn’t trust

the way some of the men had watched him. Eventually he gained enough

confidence in the fact that he was not being followed and would not be

bushwhacked and put his heels into the horses flanks in order to get

it to get into a gallop.  The day was passing too quickly, he wanted

to be home soon, sooner even than that !

 

 

 

Ben Cartwright was reading through a book that wasn’t really

interesting him greatly when he heard the sound of a horse loping into

the yard. He looked up and then over to Hoss who was eating  a

sandwich and watching as Joe laboriously wrote down his math, an

assignment Ben had given him earlier that day and which Hoss was

trying to work out before Joe managed to do so.

 

It was, at that time, unusual to have visitors unless it was one of

the ranch hands but they usually rode around to the corral to get to

the bunkhouse.  After realising that niether of his sons was going to

move to see who the visitor was, Ben rose to his feet, muttered

something beneath his breath about some people had younger legs and

should use them more often, and strode to the door which he threw

open.

 

For Adam it was a whole combination of feelings as he rode into the

yard and for a while just sat in the saddle to look at the building.

During those few moments his mind traced back to when he had first

scribbled a plan down as to how the house would look, and how once he

had tried to plan it with sticks that Hoss had broken down that had

caused a fight between them.  He sat and stared at the glazed windows,

at the porch with Marie’s big wooden planter close by and his eyes

rose to see the smoke rising from the chimneys.  He could smell food

that was being cooked so he had arrived at a convenient time for

everyone for at the smell his stomach grumbled to remind him it had

been empty too long.

 

Memories flooded back and now here was the reality at last. Was it

smaller than he remembered, yes, a little because he had been that

much smaller when he had left it, but was it grander?  Yes, because

now the door was opening and Ben was standing there, his hands on his

hips staring out as though daring whoever had ridden in to be anyone

of whom he could possibly disapprove.

 

Adams throat tightened, he wanted to yell out an excited ‘PA!” but

somehow the word wouldn’t come so he dismounted from the saddle and

tethered the horse, and then walked slowly all the distance across the

yard to the porch.

 

Ben’s face showed his emotions too clearly much to Adams amusement and

pleasure. There was curiosity, doubt, incredulity, delight,

realisation and then “Adam! Adam, is it you, son?”

 

Their feet barely touched the ground now as they hurried towards each

other, Ben’s hand on Adam’s shoulder, then pulling him close to

embrace him, then shaking his hand and the black eyes staring into his

face.  “Adam - I can’t believe it. I can’t - why didn’t you let us

know you were coming?”

 

“I think I would have arrived about the same time as the mail, Pa.”

Adam smiled, shy now, and a little bashful, “I - I thought I’d

surprise you.”

 

“It’s a surprise alright.” Ben said and stepped back “Let me look at

you.” His face flushed with pride, pleasure but his mind said “He’s

grown so tall, as tall as me if not taller, and thin, he’s too thin,

Hop Sing will soon fatten him up.  Home, I can’t believe it, my boy;s

home.”

 

Behind Ben came the scurry of feet and Hoss was there, hurrying out of

the door with a slight frown as he wondered why Ben was taking so long

before coming back indoors, and then disbelief, a shout of pure joy

“Adam, Adam - you’re back, you’re home.”

 

A bear hug, what else could he have expected from Hoss, a great bear

hug and being twirled about the yard by this youth who was barely a

head shorter than himself.  Finally Hoss stopped and released him “By

dadgumit Adam, you sure look scrawny. Come on in, Hop Sing was about

to dish up supper.”

 

Adam grinned and thought that no one could accuse Hoss of being

scrawny, he was a big built strong lad by no mistake and he was about

to comment such when he saw Joe.

Joseph Francis stood at the doorway with his hands in his pockets

staring out at the racket that was going on, his freckled face

displayed little more than fascination at seeing his big brother Hoss

cavorting around the yard with another man in a bear hug while Ben

laughed and stood there looking so pleased with himself.  Joe only

realised that this someone was Adam when Hoss had released him and he

was looking towards the door with a smile, dimples twinkling in his

cheeks and brown eyes snapping with amber sparks.  Joe put his head to

one side to survey this unknown but well loved person as he approached

him, he narrowed his eyes when Adam leaned down towards him to be more

at his level.

 

“Hi Joe, it’s good to see you again, buddy.”

 

He couldn’t remember that his brother’s voice was so deep, or that he

was so tall and dark.  His brother Adam had been different to this,

the memory he had was of someone closer to the ground with a shock of

curly black hair and freckles, he remembered the freckles because he

had challenged himself to count them once when they were fishing and

Adam had dozed off …”Are you really Adam?”

 

His voice was thin, it seemed to cut the jollity and sober the mood,

but Adam only smiled, and the dimples danced and he levelled himself

down a little more and narrowed his eyes and stared at the little boy,

“Sure, I’m Adam.  Are you really Joseph Francis Cartwright, that

annoying pesky little brother of mine who always wanted me to tell him

stories and take him fishing.”

 

Joe looked him over thoughtfully, “You look different to my Adam.”

 

“People change, Joe.” Ben said quickly with his hand on Adam’s

shoulder and anxious to get inside to talk and just absorb the next

few hours listening to all Adam had to say and tell them.

 

“You know,” Adam said solemnly as he looked more closely at Joe “I

don’t think you could be my pesky little brother.  You’re too tall.

My brother Little Joe was down here somewhere -” he lowered his hand

to just above Joes’ chest “and he was fatter than  you for sure, Hoss

used to call him butterball.”

 

“He didn’t!” Joe said but a smile hovered around his lips

 

“He did too .. I wonder where that fat little pest went.”

 

Joe laughed now “I ain’t gone no place, I just growed.”

 

“You sure did …that is, if you really are Little Joe.” and Adam

swooped him up into his arms and tossed him in the air and there was

Hoss right by his side to catch him as Adam threw him over and then

there was Hop Sing dancing about on the rug with his black eyes

glinting with welcome home tears and delight.

 

Home …

 

 

Chapter 20

 

There were a hundred and one questions that had to be asked and some

tumbled out of their mouths all mixed up together, voices clashed,

there was laughter as a result so Hoss just gradually quietened down

and just sat eating his meal and raising his eyes to make sure his

brother was still there sitting beside him. Sometimes he wanted to

lean over and pinch him just to make sure, and then he thought perhaps

he should pinch himself in case he was dreaming.

 

Eventually calm settled over them all while Ben said the prayer of

thanksgiving for the food they were about to eat and for the safe home

coming of his son.  At the conclusion of the prayer his eyes glanced

down at Adams hands and he immediately reached out  to take hold of

each one and turned them palm upwards. The callouses where blisters

had once formed and hardened over were more than obvious, and upon

looking at his sons nails he saw that they were torn, the knuckles

skinned, “These aren’t the hands of a scholar, Adam … what have you

been doing since you left college?”

 

“Ah well,” Adam frowned and shrugged before rather anxiously pulling

his hands free and taking a long drink from his glass, “I had to work

my passage home.”

 

“On board ship?  Around the Horn?” Ben exclaimed, “But surely you had

money enough to pay as a passenger?”

 

Hoss looked from his father to Adam and raised his eyebrows, it always

surprised him when people asked a question after the answer had

already been given them. He looked at Adam and wondered what it was

like having to work passage on a ship and could only assume it was a

lot harder work than sitting cosy in a cabin all day.

 

“Well, I needed to keep hold of what money I had for as long as I

could.” Adam answered slowly, “It wasn’t until after Grandfather died

that I found out that he had mortgaged the house.  I knew he had sold

the chandlers store long ago in order to pay for my education, he told

me that right from the start. I knew he wasn’t a wealthy man.” his

voice faltered and he looked down at the food on his plate, “But all

those years I was in college …” he sighed, a long drawn out

exhalation, and leaned back into his chair, “He never told me.  I

think he wanted to tell me before he died, perhaps he thought I was

expecting some kind of inheritance upon his death but - well, I didn’t

- not after I’d paid what was left of the mortgage and some few other

small debts.”

 

“I didn’t know he had sold the store …” Ben said, “I guess it made

sense, after all, he was not young when we left New England, he

wouldn’t have wanted to work there until he became incapable of doing

so.”

 

“He had hoped that the sale money, with interest from the bank, would

be sufficient to fund my education. But during the time between the

sale and my arrival there were other matters that had to be dealt

with, which ate into those savings. Then, of course, fees increased

and there were things he knew I’d need …” he bowed his head and picked

up his fork and pushed the food around the plate a little more,

“Anyway, that’s why I had to work my passage home.”  he looked down at

his hands which he turned over as though seeing them for the first

time and then smiled although without humour “I learned a lot, it was

quite an experience.”

 

“Abel always was what we would have called ‘canny’ when it came to

money,” Ben said slowly, “I’m more than grateful to him for what he

did for you.”

 

“He said that he did it for my mother, he always promised her that her

son would have an education in a good college.  He was a proud man …”

Adam’s voice faltered a little and he firmed his lips and stared down

at his plate in order to keep his emotions in check. It made Ben

realise that his son, although a man,  still had a tender heart.

 

Joe changed the subject by asking what it had been like being on the

‘boat’ and had there been storms and had it been exciting.  Adam

nodded “Yes, it was quite an adventure. But I wish the officers were

not so harsh on the men, they would quite often hit them with their

rattans, and once I had to watch while a man was flogged.”

 

Hoss and Joe hissed in their breaths and Joe whispered “Flogged, what

does that mean?”

 

“He was beaten with a whip, twelve lashes …” Adam replied, “We had to

stand very quiet and watch it.  Passengers were told to remain in

their cabins but as I was part of the ships crew for the trip I had to

take my place and see it. It’s barbaric.”

 

Ben nodded and sighed “It happens, with a good Captain it seldom does,

but there are times when officers abuse their privileges of

responsibility and over step the mark.”

 

“I agree. I think there will be trouble on that ship before too long,

the men were very mutinous by the time they reached San Francisco. I

was glad to disembark .. Well, for more than one reason.”

 

“Adam” Hoss leaned forward “Did you miss us, even jest a little bit?”

 

“Every day, Hoss, and more than jest a little bit.” Adam smiled over

at him and the smile that was returned was the best reward for the

long arduous journey he could have wished for, “I wrote so many

letters, I hope you got some.”

 

“We got some, probably not all …” Ben replied, “San Francisco is some

distance to travel although we try to get there reasonably regular.

You’ll find a lot has changed since  you left, Adam.”

 

“In what way?  Indian trouble?”

 

“On and off, mainly because of the miners - or as the Paiute call

them, the diggers.  The Washoe Paiute have just seemed to disappear,

but the Bannocks come down and cause trouble among the Paiute even

though Chief Truckee tries to keep them in order. His son, Winnemucca

is all for driving the miners out of the land.”

 

“Have they caused any trouble here, on the Ponderosa?” Adam looked at

them anxiously, his eyes fell upon Joe who looked up and smiled with

innocent delight in his eyes. “Why didn’t you mention it in your

letters?”

 

“It wasn’t an issue here, and has only become one since more miners

have come into the area.”  Ben muttered soberly and turned his

attention to dishing out some potato onto his plate.

 

“Hey, Adam, did you see the cattle we got now?” Hoss asked, his blue

eyes lost in the folds of his cheeks as he grinned so widely.

 

“I did.”

 

“Pa’s decided to go into the cattle business as well as selling them horses.”

 

Ben nodded “With so many people hereabouts the wild life is vanishing,

I thought having prime home grown beef available would make sense for

the other ranches as well as the diggings and Eagle Station.”

 

Adam said nothing, he had never really thought about having cows on

the Ponderosa, but it made sense and he smiled at Ben as though proud

of his father’s initiative.  Joe piped up with the story of how a lot

of the cows got frozen stiff during the winter and gradually the

conversation veered along more familiar topics and away from the

worrying aspects of Indian raids and Abel’s financial problems.

 

 

Adam’s first sight of the diggings came several days later when he

managed to persuade Ben to let him accompany him.  Ben had fussed

rather which seemed to amuse Adam at first but gradually had him

reminding his father that he was no longer a child so would he please

stop treating him as one which rather shook the older man into

agreeing even though in a rather disgruntled manner.

 

He watched as his son buckled one a gun belt and tied down the

holster, and smiled when Adam reached out for his hat, “Adam, do you

actually know how to use a gun?”

 

His son raised his head and the dark eyes darkened slightly, the well

shaped lips formed a tight line “I know how to use this, Pa. I didn’t

just sit behind a desk all day at college.”

 

“I only asked…” Ben said quietly and left the house frowning, it

seemed his son had got himself all grown up in more ways than one over

the years and he wondered what other surprises he’d have in store for

him as the days went by.

 

He smiled to himself as he saddled his horse at the pleasant evenings

he had now, even though they had only been few, it had been a welcome

change to share the darkening hours with Adam, talking over ranch

matters, or listening to Adam letting him about college, about Abel

and even about that ship’s voyage home. They’d chatted over the chess

board, or just sat in silence reading.

 

As they had ridden closer to the mining camp Adam had turned

repeatedly in the saddle this way and that, refraining from comment

but noticing everything. Ben just stared ahead, his dark eyes

preferring to look only at the things he wanted or needed to see.

 

“How do they get their provisions?”

 

“A wagon goes to Eagle Station for them.  They’re not much, but they

seem to get by on them.”

 

“What about mail?”

 

Ben grinned, his teeth flashed white against the dark skin “No mail

man here yet, I’m afraid, son”

 

“Doesn’t seem to be much of anything here yet, except gold hungry men

and a lot of hungry people”

 

“Yes, and it’ll get worse before it gets better.” Ben replied turning

his horse to where the Doctor lived,  “Remember Dr Martin?   He left

here a month ago, we have a new doctor now, Dr. Hay.”

 

“Why did Dr Martin leave?”

 

“He didn’t have the time to drop by and tell me, Adam.” Ben replied dryly.

 

Dr. Hay didn’t have much time to spend talking to two healthy

specimens of humanity, he shook their hands and asked them if

everything was alright to which Ben replied he had one of his hands

sick.  “What am I expected to do about that, Mr. Cartwright?  I don’t

have the time to make house calls just yet.  Can’t you get someone to

bring him in to see me?”

 

“If I have to I suppose -”

 

“You’ll have to, I’m sorry, no alternative.” Hay replied, pushing Ben

aside to let a man with blood streaming from a head wound stagger by,

he grabbed the mans arm and helped him into a seat. “I’m busy, so if

you don’t mind -”

 

Adam raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips before glancing at his

father who only nodded, and thanked Hay for his time.  Back on the

hard packed track that ran alongside the doctors place Ben looked up

and down, then shrugged “Well, so much for progress.”

 

“This is progress?” Adam replied looking around him and he shook his

head, “This isn’t progress, Pa, this is just a plain mess.”

 

Chapter 20

 

Joe glanced up towards the stairs as his father came down pulling on

his leather vest, beneath the table he gave Hoss a sharp kick to the

leg which brought Hoss’ attention from his plate to observe Ben who

smiled, looked around the table and then frowned “Where’s Adam?”

 

Joe heaved in a deep breath but it was Hoss who said “He went out early.”

 

“Where? How early?”

 

“I don’t know, Pa. He never said, he was already out of the door when

I came down, jest said to tell you he’d see you later.” Hoss shrugged

and lowered his head in order to feed himself faster.

 

“Joe?” Ben looked at the smallest Cartwright in the room and was

awarded a smile “I don’t know either, Pa. I wasn’t up even when he

left.”

 

Ben shook his head as though to toss away the black cloud that was

beginning to hover and pulled out his chair, “He didn’t give you any

idea where he was going?”

 

“No, sir.” Hoss mumbled and closed his ears to his father’s sigh as

Ben sat down and pulled his chair up to the table.

 

“Had he eaten anything before he went?”

 

“Yep.”

 

Too bad for Hop Sing who got a list of questions fired at him as soon

as he entered the room to set the plate of food before Ben and to each

of them he shook his head until he got confused and said sharply “I

cook. I not ask questions. I cook. Make food. He eat I go. He go I

clear up plate. All over now. I go. You eat now.”

 

Ben sighed, looked over at his sons who were closely observing him,

and stared down at his plate. For some reason he had expected, no, he

had hoped, that his eldest son would hang around him like a leech,

would not want to venture from his side,would be asking for his advice

and exchanging ideas, not go disappearing without a word to anyone and

by that, he meant himself, of course.

………….

 

The day was dry, hot and sunny, in fact the sun burned down

relentlessly. Dust spiralled up from the paths between the makeshift

cabins and tarpaulin tents. Adam rode slowly down what he assumed was

the centre of this haphazard settlement, weaving in and out of the

assortment of dwellings that littered the way. Finally he stopped

outside the framework of what was going to be a decent looking timber

frame house. He looked at it thoughtfully and then looked at the pile

of lumber stacked on the ground beside it. He was still looking and

thinking about what he was seeing when he felt something hard prod

into his back.

 

“You step back from there right now, Mister.”

 

He did so, carefully, and when a tall man walked round with a rifle in

his hand and a scowl on his face they looked one another up and down

before he said “I was looking at the lumber you have there.”

 

“I know. I saw ya. You keep your thieving eyes off’n it. I’m being

paid top dollar to make sure no one walks off with any of that.”

 

“Who’d want it? Looks pretty cheap and flimsy to me.”

 

“You kidding me? That thar stuff would be worth its weight in gold for

some of those miners. It would stop the tunnels falling on them for a

start.”

 

“Then why don’t they get lumber …?”

 

“Because its too expensive. That lumber there came all the way from

San Francisco, and the freight charges alone cost more than the wood

itself. That’s why I have to make sure no one runs off with it.”

 

“Who owns it then?”

 

“Mr and Mrs Stringer.” he glanced over Adams shoulder as he spoke

causing Adam to look back to see who was coming, “That’s them now.”

 

Mr and Mrs Stringer looked totally out of place as they picked their

way through the dusty track between several tents, she was protecting

herself from the sun by holding up a lacy trimmed parasol getting

several ribald comments and shrill cat calls along the way as a

result. They came to a stop in front of Adam and the rifle man. “Who’s

this?” Stringer asked, removing his hat and looking narrow eyed at

Adam.

 

“Caught him trying to run off with some of your lumber.”

 

“ I was not -” Adam snapped immediately.

 

“Then what were you doing?” Stringer asked, wiping his brow with a

spotted handkerchief.

 

“I was wondering where you got your lumber from and what you were

charged. From what your - friend - says you were paying out too much

money for haulage from ‘Frisco. What are you building here anyway?”

 

Mrs Stringer stepped forward now “We’re building our home. We’re going

to settle here and start up a school.”

 

“A school?” Adam’s eyes opened wide, then he looked at the frame of

the building “That won’t be big enough for a school.”

 

“What would you know,” Mr Stringer said “I can’t afford anything

bigger, it’ll have to be the best we can do for now, what with the

price of timber, the haulage … you need to strike a bonanza here

before you can even set down the foundations.”

 

Adam removed his hat, inclined his head politely to the lady and

smiled his most charming smile, “Mr Stringer, I think I have the

answer to your prayers. Is there anywhere we can talk - privately?”

…………..

 

The horse was nodding over his shoulder as he sat on an upturned

barrel scribbling notes on some paper, his brow creased in

concentration. The day was drawing to a close now, and he knew that he

needed to get back soon because his stomach was rattling around and he

didn’t want to miss another meal. When he stood up he found himself

looking at a gangly thin young man with twinkling blue eyes and a huge

grin on his face. “You ain’t no miner.” this young man said.

 

“Nor are you for the looks of things.” Adam replied totalling his

figures and dashing a line beneath them.

 

“So what are you doing here?” the other youth leaned forward the grin

still on his face, “I bin watching you all day. You’ve been walking

all around the place haven’t you? Even been down a mine or two,

ain’t’tcha?”

 

“What business is it of yours if I have?”

 

“None,” came the reply and he thrust out a large hand that seemed to

fit with the size of him, “My names Ross, Ross Marquette. My folks

want to settle here, get a ranch started up. I hear theres some

ranches hereabouts already.”

 

“Some.” Adam replied tucking the notebook into his saddle bags and

stroking his horses nose, “I’m Adam Cartwright, from the Ponderosa.”

 

“The Ponderosa huh? Yeah, I heard of it.”

 

“You should get your folks to come over and speak to my Pa. He’ll be

able to tell them about ranching around here.”

 

“And you ? You ranching too?”

 

“Among other things.” Adam replied slipping his foot into his stirrup

and mounting in to the saddle

 

“What else do you do then?”

 

“I’m an architect … and I want to build houses, towns even.”

 

Ross Marquette laughed, Adam thought he had never seen such teeth in

his life before, but when Ross laughed he found himself chuckling

along with him “What’s so funny?”

 

Ross shrugged “I dunno. Jest can’t imagine anyone wanting to build a

town hereabouts.”

 

Adam glanced around him “Well, I don’t see why not.” he leaned upon

his saddle horn “There’s people here, where there’s people who are

determined to stay, there’ll be a town. The Ponderosa has timber, and

I design buildings … there’ll be a town here, one day.”

 

Ross nodded and stepped back some paces to allow Adam to move the

horse “I reckon you will at that, you seem determined enough.”

 

“I am.” Adam replied and with a tilt of the hat and a nod of the head

he sent his horse into a canter towards home.

………….

 

He pushed open the door and removed his hat which he flipped onto the

bureau, then leaned to remove his gun belt. From somewhere in the room

the deep voice of his father bounced from wall to wall “Do you mind

telling me where you’ve been all day?”

 

He smiled up at Ben and although he could see from his father’s face

that he really had nothing to smile about he maintained it, however

the twinkle in his eyes faded away.

 

“I’ve been to the diggings.”

 

“All day?” Ben thundered, “ALL DAY!!”

 

“Mmm, all day.” he cleared his throat and tucked his hands into the

back pockets of his pants, pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as he

looked at Ben “I was thinking how we could use that timber on the

hills to good use.”

 

“You were thinking were you? And were you thinking about what we would

be thinking about with you gone traipsing off to who knows where?” Ben

blew himself up as tall as he could and his dark eyes blazed,

“Thinking of using my timber were you?”

 

“Ponderosa pine, Pa.” Adam forced his eyes to twinkle and he shrugged

“It’ll bring in good profits in no time at all. And there’s already

one commission, for a school. Joe can attend a real school.”

 

From somewhere a thin voice wailed “I don’t wanner go to no school.”

 

Adam shrugged again and went so far as to tap his father on the chest

“Just think, Pa, that’s something Hoss and I never did, we never had

the chance of a real school.”

 

“I don’t wanner go to no school.” Joe whined.

 

“And not only that, it’ll be the first building that I’ll design and

that’ll be built with our very own wood. We’ll need a saw mill of

course, and we’ll have to hire some men to deal with the timber.”

 

“You’re thinking of cutting down my trees…?” Ben thundered his hands

on his hips and his chest thrust out.

 

“I don’t wanner go …” Joe wailed and Ben turned round and snapped

“That’s enough, be quiet and go and sit at the table.”

 

Throwing a mutinous scowl over at his father and brother Joe did as he

was told, head handing low and his legs swinging back and forth

beneath the table.

 

Adam produced his notebook and opened it to show Ben “See here, Pa …

Mr and Mrs Stringer..”

 

“Who?”

 

“They want to teach at the school I’m going to build them. This is the

design. It’s quite basic, it won’t take too long. Did you know how

much the haulage charges are they’re paying for lumber? And several of

the miners want timber for the mines, they need to be shored up. If

they’re shored up properly there won't be so many cave ins, fewer

injuries, less work for the doctors and all the time we’ll be using

our timber and according to my figures, if we charge a reasonable sum

we should have paid for the saw mill within a few months.”

 

Ben shook his head, rubbed his brow with his fingers and closed his

eyes, then after counting more than ten he put his hand on Adam’s

shoulder, “How long have you been home, son?”

 

“Four days.” Adam replied his eyes still on his notepad and

calculations whizzing about in his head.

 

“Four days?”

 

“Uh-huh”

 

Ben heaved in a long breath and shook his head, “Let’s go to the table

and eat. I’ve a headache coming on.”

 

Chapter 21

 

Adam was somewhat perplexed at the heavy atmosphere that settled over

them all during the meal, even Hoss and Joe were quieter than usual

with Hoss casting anxious looks over at Adam and several times, when

their eyes met, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.  Joe looked

glum and ate his food as noisily as possible so that eventually Ben

snapped at him to eat with his mouth shut or not at all.

 

“Well, I’m not happy.” Joe exclaimed casting down his fork and glaring

over at Adam.

 

Ben’s shoulders sagged as though his youngest sons woes were yet

another burden for him to carry and the weight was just too much …”Why

not?” he sighed.

 

“I don’t wanner go to school.”  Joe shrugged his shoulders up and down

several times to emphasise the point and looked at his father “Please

don’t send me, Pa. I don’t want to go away from the Ponderosa.”

 

“Who said anything about you going away?” Hoss guffawed and dropped

his potato on the floor as a result.

 

This was quite a novelty for Adam who had been absent from such

familial exchanges for some time, he turned to look at Joe who was now

red faced “Adam went to school and he was gone years and years I don’t

wanner go away for years and years without seeing you all.” and he

promptly burst into tears.

 

This immediately provoked an outburst of laughter from Hoss and Adam

which was promptly quelled by Ben barking “That’s enough from the pair

of you.”

 

“Joe, you won’t be going away for years and years -” Adam smiled as he

spoke and Hoss butted in to add his nickels worth “Shucks,

shortshanks, you reckon anyone would even want you in their school for

that long a time?!

 

The set the boy off to a fresh display of tears which prompted Ben to

order him to his room so that howling now for really good effect Joe

slid from his chair and ran upstairs. Adam frowned and stood up to get

Ben turning to him “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

“To talk to Joe, he’s upset and -”

 

“I know he’s upset, and I know who’s the cause of his being upset, so

sit down, and eat your food while I go and explain things to him.”

 

For a fraction of a second Adam remained as he was and then slowly

subsided into his chair.  He watched as Ben thudded his way across the

floor and up to Joe’s room, leaving his other sons watching him and

then staring at one another “What happened?” Adam asked quietly

 

“Er - well - you ain’t forgot that Pa has a short fuse at times, had

ya?”  Hoss asked lowering his eyes to look at his food.

 

“So?  What has that to do with what just happened?”

 

“Pa’s been kinda building up to it all day.” Hoss shovelled food into

his mouth in the hope that he didn’t have to say anything else but

Adam was nothing if not persistent, he had to ask ‘Why?”

 

“Wal” Hoss scratched his head, “You didn’t tell him whar you were

going for a start, and then he got worried and no one knew whar you

were, and he got past being worried and became annoyed and -” he

shrugged.

 

“You mean I have to ask permission to go anyplace?”

 

Hoss shrugged, he disliked talking about  his Pa in this way, to him

it was perfectly natural to tell Ben where he was going and why, not

that he went anywhere without Ben anyway.  The fact that Adam had

actually ‘challenged’ Ben on this point by his actions caused Hoss

some discomfort.

 

Adam sighed and resumed his meal, when he had eaten enough he got up

and tossed his napkin down onto the table “Hoss, will you tell our Pa

that I’m upstairs in my room.”

 

“Uh - huh - er - sure, Adam.  Anything you say.”

 

Adam practically tiptoed to his room and closed the door as quietly as

possible.  Four days home and suddenly things looked a little frayed

around the edges.  He walked to his desk and picked up Horatio

Greenough’s essay American Architecture which had been published in

1843 and a gift to him from his Grandfather.   He then sat at his desk

and after unrolling some paper upon its surface, he opened the book at

the page he required.

 

Ben returned to the table with Joe dragging his feet behind him, he

paused as he saw the empty chair and narrowed his eyes “Where’s your

brother?”

 

“In his room, Pa.”

 

With a grunt Ben sat down to resume his now cold meal. Joe did

likewise, scowling under his brows as he did so.

…………

 

Adam was immersed in his reading when there came an abrupt knock on

the door and before he had the chance to say ‘come in’ it opened and

Ben stood there, filling the frame as he did so “What are you doing?”

 

“Reading.”

 

“I want to talk to  you, privately, downstairs.”

 

Adam frowned and slowly placed a marked in his book which he then

closed and placed on the desk before getting to his feet. He followed

his father downstairs, glanced at the clock when he reached the lower

level and noticed that his brothers were nowhere to be seen “Where’s

Joe and Hoss?”

 

“In bed.  It’s late.  They have to get up early in the morning to do

their chores.” Ben replied and stood in front of the hearth as though

suddenly lost for words.

 

“Was Joe alright after you’d explained about school?” Adam asked,

bringing a hand up and sweeping it down the back of his head and then

rubbing where as a result of doing so much reading he now had a

’crick’ at the base of his skull.

 

“Humph,” was the only reply he got to that as Ben turned to face him “Adam?”

 

“Yes, sir.”   Adam smiled but his eyes didn’t, even he had memories of

discussions with his father in the past that he’d prefer to forget, a

tone of voice that warned of storms ahead.

 

“I’d - er - prefer it if you’d let me know in future where  you’re

going.  It helps - er um - to know because -” he shrugged and this

time he swept his hand over the back of his head, no doubt to ease the

headache he’d claimed to have had before eating, it had obviously not

gone away.

 

“Because?” Adam slid into the blue chair and crossed his legs, his

face upturned to look attentively at his father.

 

“Well, there’s work to do around a ranch this size, I had plans for

you to work alongside us today, to check the cattle and to discuss the

- er - fencing.”

 

“I see.  I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.” Adam frowned and then leaned

forward “But, Pa, aren’t you excited at the thought of what’s

happening here?  That there are people moving here who would take the

time to build a school and teach the children?  That’s what is really

progress, surely?”

 

“They can build a school in their own time and with their own funding, but -”

 

“But what?  What’s wrong with helping them build that school?  Don’t

you - I mean - do you object to me drawing up the plans for it or

what?”

 

Ben opened his mouth and closed it again, then he turned his back on

his son and shook his head, “Those miners will be gone - they won’t

stay - they’re a nuisance and a problem. They’ll continue to be such

all the time they’re here.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because they’re greedy and they’re after gold. Adam, I can’t believe

that you took it upon yourself to promise OUR trees …”  it was

interesting Adam thought that Ben had referred to them as our trees

while jabbing his thumb into his chest.

 

“But it makes sense, Pa.  Our timber could build the whole town,

should it ever grow into one… which doesn’t seem to be what you want.”

 

“No, I don’t want it.  This was our dream, your mothers and mine, it

wasn’t for the whole world and his missus to come tramping through the

wilds to join up with us!”

 

“But they’re all chasing dreams of their own, Pa.  Surely -”

 

“Aren’t you listening to me, son?  They want gold, they’ll do anything

to get their hands on it, they’ll even come onto the Ponderosa for it

if they can.”

 

Adam shrugged “Well, if they do we’ll chase them off.”

 

“I don’t want to waste my time chasing people off MY land.” Ben’s deep

voice rose higher, he threw his arms in the air and then glared at

Adam with his eyes so black that Adam gulped back anything he had

thought to say to that last comment.  “The timber stays where it is.”

 

“I’ve already promised the Stringers lumber from our timber for the

school. I’m working on a design for it now.  There’s several mines

that need shoring … I said …”

 

“You had no right to tell them anything, or promise them lumber from

our trees.” Ben shouted.

 

“But why not?  It’s not as if those trees are doing anything except

standing there, growing… “

 

“Exactly and that’s what I want them to continue to do.  I don’t want

them disturbed to make those miners comfortable with shoring from

them, do you understand?”

 

“No, I don’t” Adam stood up, thrust out his chin and his eyes darkened

“No, I don’t understand.”  his voice was raised now, “You said, when

we were in that miserable mud rotting hole, that this was progress …”

 

“I didn’t mean it the way you obviously took it.”

 

“I knew what you meant when you said it, Pa.  But it doesn’t have to

be that way.  It - it means something to give to a community…” he

raised his shoulders and shook his head as though struggling for the

right words “They want their dreams to come true too, Pa.”

 

“Not on my doorstep.”

 

“I - Pa - you can’t ignore them, they’re not going to go away.”

 

“They are NOT having my timber, or coming near my land.”

 

“They are and they will, you can’t stop a flood, Pa, but you can

prevent it spilling over onto YOUR land.  Look -” he lowered his

voice, once again swept his hand over the back of his head and heaved

in his breath “Look, we can get a saw mill set up in the woods, get

skilled timber men to cut them down and -”

 

“Where do you intend getting skilled timber men here?” Ben almost

sneered and then turned away at the look on his son’s face.

 

“There are some men already prepared to be hired for the work, Pa.

They can’t handle mining, they want the sky above their heads and

daylight during their days, not grovelling down in a hole.  They said

-”

 

“You’ve arranged this already, without asking me?”

 

Adam stepped back and frowned “I didn’t realise I had to ask

permission for that, I thought you would trust me to make some

decisions, isn’t that what I spent all those years in college for?  To

design buildings for this township?  To build them with our timber?”

 

“Adam, I’m warning you, you’ve just about gone too far….”

 

“Too far in what? I don’t understand you, Pa?  What exactly is it that

you want from me?”

 

“I want you to help me build up the Ponderosa, to make it the best and

- and most productive ranch in this territory.” Ben hissed, leaning

now towards his son, “Do you understand that?”

 

“But what is the point of being the best and most productive if there

isn’t anyone around to compare with?  No man can be an island, Pa, not

now, not when there are so many other people making their way to your

front door.”

 

“Are you lecturing me?” Ben growled, his eyes now blazing and his face

getting redder while the veins stood out on his forehead and neck.

 

“I don’t intend to be lecturing you, Pa.   I just don’t understand why

you’re being so - so pig headed…”

 

“PIG HEADED!!!”

 

“Alright, stubborn then …”

 

“Adam Cartwright, that’s quite enough.   Quite enough.  Just get up

those stairs to your room right now.” a flung out arm, finger pointed

to the stairs.

 

Adams lips firmed into a tight line but he turned on his heel and

then, halfway across the distance to the stairs he stopped, turned

“Pa, those timber men will show us how to protect the trees, they said

that when you chop one down you just plant more .. That way the trees

keep on growing and getting stronger because they’ll grow where

there’s light and -”

 

“Adam - before I lose my temper -”

 

Adam grimaced and shrugged “I thought you already had.”

 

Ben’s lips now tightened into a such a firm line it was obvious he

wasn’t going to swallow the only bug in the territory … he watched

Adam make his way, slowly, upstairs and then with a sigh made his way

to his chair into which he slumped, head bowed and aching.

 

Hop Sing peered around the wall of the kitchen “It all quiet now? No

more scream and shout?”

 

Upstairs Joe had already crept into Hoss’ bed with his hands over his

ears and not to cut out Hoss’ snoring, he had never heard his father

rage in such a way nor his brother shouting back.  He wished more than

ever that Adam hadn’t gone away for all that time and then wondered if

perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if school did mean absence from

home.

 

In his room Adam sat by his desk, picked up pen and ruler and began to

draw the outline of the building for the school. Then he put it down,

his shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hands.  After all

these years of learning his trade, what was he supposed to do when his

own father seemed determined to prevent it. He felt like a bird with

clipped wings …

 

Chapter 22

 

As soon as the sound of a horse cantering into the yard was heard Adam

was on his feet and at the door to pull it open. Ross Marquette

dismounted so fast that his long gangly legs nearly tripped him over

as he hurried to where his friend waited and called out to him “Well,

did you find him?”

 

“No, Adam” Ross was breathing hard, taking deep gulps of air proving

for a certainty the haste in which he had been riding “I went to the

diggings but they haven’t seen Dr. Hay, I asked everyone I met …” he

wiped his forehead on his sleeve and shook his head “Adam, it’s crazy,

trying to get a doctor hereabouts -”

 

“Ross, you’ve got to find him, Hoss needs a doctor -.”

 

“I know that -” Ross snapped, and then seeing the distress on Adams

face grabbed at his arm, “Look, my horse is just about tired out, what

if I get a fresh mount and try some of the homesteads and ranches

around here?”

 

Adam looked at him with a momentary gleam in his eyes which faded

almost immediately, he shook his head “No, there’s no point in killing

yourself, you could be chasing all over the territory and never find

him. I sent one of the men south wards, he’s covering up as far as

Eagle Station but I have little hope of him finding him that far.” he

bit down upon his bottom lip and looked at Ross, “Thanks, Ross, you’ve

done more than I would have asked.”

 

“I know but I don’t like the thought of Hoss being so ill and - and

being so unable to help. You sure there ain’t nothing else I can do.”

 

Adam forced a smile albeit without warmth or mirth and slapped his

friend on the arm “No, you’ve done more than enough. You’d best get

home or your Ma will be getting worried.”

 

“At my age?” Ross grinned but then cast a look up at the stairs “How’s

he doing right now?”

 

“Holding his own. He’s tough, he’ll fight this thing …” Adam drew a

hand over his mouth and bowed his head, then straightened up to face

his friend “Thanks again.”

 

“I’ll ride by tomorrow …”

 

“Sure, fine..”

 

He closed the door as soon as Ross had stepped outside and then stood

there for a moment, leaning against the bureau and his head hung low

as he stared at the rug witout even really seeing it, then as though

giving himself a mental shake he braced himself for yet another test

of endurance.

 

Hop Sing stood up from the chair as soon as Adam stepped into the

room, he nodded and then looked down upon the bed where Hoss lay “He

sleeping now. He sleep much - need sleep. You sleep too.”

 

“No, Hop Sing, I can’t … not just now.”

 

“Then I make coffee. You stay. I go. You have coffee keep awake more.”

 

Adam nodded and took the seat Hop Sing had just left and drew it

closer to his brother’s bedside. For a moment he stared at Hoss’ face

and then put his hand gently upon his shoulder “Hoss?”

 

The youth lay very silent apart from the wheezing that came from his

chest, the struggle to breathe was so obvious that it tore Adam’s

nerves to shreds and his face contorted with all the conflicting

emotions a person feels watching a loved one suffering. “Hoss?”

 

The eyelids of the sick young man flickered, his eyes barely opened

but there was some movement before they closed down again. Adam

grabbed at one of Hoss’ hands “You crazy idiot, Hoss Cartwright, why’d

you go do a dumb fool ass thing like that? Didn’t you stop to think

you could get yourself into trouble?”

 

The wheezing continued and Adam held hold of Hoss hand in both of his,

bowed his head, and willed his brother to open his eyes and be better.

A miracle was what he wanted, surely, just one little miracle wouldn’t

do no harm, not when it meant saving Hoss?

 

Hop Sing entered the room with a tray which he set down. He looked

down at Hoss and felt his brow “Hot.”

 

“Too hot, Hop Sing.”

 

“Fever last too long.”

 

“I know that -” the words were snapped out, and then he felt ashamed,

it wasn’t Hop Sings fault, he apologised but his eyes didn’t leave his

brothers face, “Hop Sing, Ross couldn’t find the doctor. What can we

do? Isn’t there anything else we can do that will help him?”

 

I give him more medicine, make fever not so hot.”

 

“He will get better, won’t he?”

 

“He strong, strong like ox, he fight hard …he get better quick quick.”

Hop Sing assured the young man and placed a gentle hand on his

shoulder “You not worry now.”

 

“I can’t help but worry, how do you expect me to stop?” Adam muttered

and glanced over his shoulder at the mans retreating figure, the door

closed and he was left alone in the room with his brother wheezing and

sweating in bed.

 

Why now? Adam shook his head, why did Hoss have to fall ill now? In

fact why did Pa have to decide to take Little Joe all the way to New

Orleans now? He shook his head, it was actually four weeks since they

left, he could recall how excited Joe was, hopping about on one foot

and then the other and then begging his father to hurry up and Ben

giving his last minute instructions of things to do, things not to do,

not to interfere with this or that and to leave the other alone as

well. Adam remembered wishing they would both just go because they

were making his head reel.

 

Hoss had been excited as well, even though he wasn’t going anywhere.

Ben had asked him along with them but Hoss didn’t want to go anyplace,

he wanted to stay where he had his heart, and New Orleans just didn’t

appeal to him at all, especially as it was just to see some old folk

related to Joe’s Ma who wouldn’t have a nickels worth of interest in

him. Ben had assured him that they would be visiting old friends of

his as well, but Hoss had shaken his head and staunchly declared that

Adam needed someone on the Ponderosa to keep him on the straight and

narrow.

 

Then they had gone, ridden out of the yard with a wave of the hand and

that was it. Hoss had grinned and draped his arm across Adam’s

shoulders “Fishing?”

 

Adam had grinned back “Yeah - fishing. I know just the perfect place -”

 

“Not that pool down by the two rocks -”

 

“Sure, that’s just the best place in the world to fish.”

 

“And swim.”

 

Four weeks ago, it seemed just like yesterday, and no way now of

letting Pa know how ill Hoss was, and how much he was needed back

home.

 

He stood up to stretch his legs and bent his back to get out the

kinks, poured out coffee and carried the cup to the window so that he

could look over to the hills. He narrowed his eyes and followed the

line of trees right to where they stopped growing. Well, they had

their saw mill now, and good men, experienced in tree felling and

logging set up in a camp among the trees.

 

It was odd how quickly Ben had come around to the idea once he had met

some of the men. Once they had explained what could be done and how

the trees could be preserved by sensible and selective logging he had

appreciated the benefits both financially and environmentally. The

initial outlay cost but it soon brought in returns

 

Adam turned his attention back to the bed where Hoss was stirring, but

when there was no change he returned his gaze to the hillside. He had

had the pleasure of seeing his design for the school being used and Mr

and Mrs Stringer taking their place as the teachers in residence at

the diggings. Joe had been made to attend and hated it as he had

promised them he would…but he had gone and benefited by it despite his

ability to find trouble and create mischief.

 

That had been some years back and somehow - Adam bit his lip and

frowned, somehow life had become so busy on the Ponderosa that apart

from several designs drawn up for buildings at the diggings that were

currently still on his desk there had been no architectural work at

all.

 

A movement and Hoss’ voice called out for Pa. A spasm of coughing and

then again ‘Pa?”

 

Adam hurried back to the bedside and was there before Hoss had opened

his eyes, stared blankly at Adam and mouthed his name, then the eyes

had closed again, but his hand held tightly to his brothers. Hop Sing

came in and with Adam’s help managed to pour some liquid down his

throat. “Will that help?” Adam asked and got a withering look back in

answer.

 

He resumed his position in the chair and watched as Hoss’ laboured

breathing seemed to echo round the room, he wiped his brothers’ brow

and around his neck with the cloth and water that Hop Sing brought up,

and he sat and waited, his eyes seldom leaving sight of his charge.

 

He slipped back to thinking about his ambitions when he had returned

home several years back; he was going to design and build houses,

banks, town halls… he was going to have an office in town but that he

hadn’t even bothered to suggest that to his father, there had been no

point. He thought of the designs he had drawn up already, and wondered

if they would actually ever be used.

 

The diggings were worse than ever, more and more people pouring in, of

all nationalities, cultures, social classes. The Stringers had moved

away when Mrs Stringer caught a rather unpleasant illness from one of

the miners and they had had a succession of teachers since then, the

last one, Miss Abigail Jones, seemed to have become a rather permanent

feature though.

 

They were selling their lumber for shoring in the mines, and there

were the timber frame buildings going up, even a mercantile store but

nothing that required Adam’s expertise.

 

What had happened to his ambition? His hopes? Dreams? He leaned

forwards as Hoss mumbled something , and then wrung out the cloth to

wipe around his brothers face, and murmur words of comfort and

reassurance.

 

He had realised that to become a real architect would have meant going

to San Francisco, working in an office there to become 'established'

and when the Washoe Diggings were ready for him then he would return

and design the wonderful buildings it would deserve. Or he could have

returned to Boston of course … but he couldn’t, he couldn’t leave the

Ponderosa then, anymore than he could now.

 

Ben had been right when he had said the miners would encroach on their

land, it seemed to be a constant fight to repel them back to where

they belonged. They seemed to swarm all over the Ponderosa and they

were constantly chasing them off.

 

There was oversight of the lumber camp and being involved with the

timber, and there was cattle who had calves that needed branding and

then the horses, the list just went on and on.

 

“Adam?”

 

“I’m here, Hoss, it’s alright, you’re not alone.”

 

“What’s wrong with me?”

 

Adam frowned “I’m not sure, couldn’t get hold of a doctor but Hop Sing

reckons it’s some kind of pneumonia.”

 

“Huh? How’d that happen?” Hoss wheezed.

 

“The other day when you insisted on staying out in the rain and then

fell and cracked your head so you were spread eagled out in the field

most of the day before I realised you were missing … well, we reckon

you got ill from that…” he paused, and rubbed his face, “It was my

fault, Hoss. I should have stayed with you to help but there was so

much else to do, I thought I’d get back to you before mid-day and then

it started raining.”

 

Hoss frowned and stared up at the ceiling “Shucks, dad blast it, I

remember now, it rained so hard I thought I’d best get back home and

that was when I fell and cracked my head.”

 

“You can remember doing that?”

 

“Sure, clear as day. One minute I was plodding through that mud and

the next my feet went from under me and I was flat on my back… and

then I woke up and saw you standing over me.”

 

“Took me forever to get you up on that horse, you big galoot.” Adam

grinned at the memory, struggling to get Hoss off the ground was one

thing, but when it was mud and his feet were going every which way

possible while Hoss was dead weight in his arms and no one near by to

help. It had been a nightmare.

 

Hoss closed his eyes “I’m tired, Adam, sure am mighty tired.”

 

“Get some sleep, brother.”

 

“Adam - I’m sure glad you’re back home with us y’know.” his eyes were

closed, he was drifting off but a smile widened across his face “I

missed you when you was away.”

 

Adam felt his throat tighten, he couldn’t find the words, he hugged

his brothers hand against his chest and screwed up his eyes so the

tears would not flow. Hoss sighed deeply, long drawn out and wheezy.

“I missed you, Adam.”

 

He squeezed Hoss’s hand and waited until his brother had slipped back

into sleep. For a while he sat there before slowly leaning back into

his chair. This was another reason why he had stayed, he loved them,

all of them, loved them so much he could no more leave than pigs could

fly.

 

He looked around Hoss’ room, he could remember when they had planned

it out, pacing out the width and breadth, and then plastering the

walls and cutting out the windows. An age ago, a time before Joe was

born, before Marie …

 

Hop Sing entered the room and looked at the two young men, Hoss in the

bed sleeping more calmly and Adam in the chair, eyes closed, head low

upon his chest his breathing deep and steady. Hop Sing smiled and went

to the window, drew across the drapes and then put a match to the

lamps in order to bring light to the room.

 

It was another 24 hours before Hoss was free from the fever, but it

took a while longer for him to regain his strength. Adam bore the

brunt of the work, the chores, the ledger keeping… if he thought at

all about building houses it was only in his dreams, if he had any,

most nights he crawled into his bed and fell deeply asleep from sheer

exhaustion and the mornings always came far too quickly.

 

 

In New Orleans little Joe Cartwright played mud pies with a little

girl called Laura. The sun shone and the buildings hemmed him in and

if it wasn’t for the thought of returning to that terrible Miss

Abigail Jones he would have given anything to get back home. After

all, it just wasn’t the thing a boy should do … playing with a girl!

 

Chapter 23

 

Among the litter of tents, shanty cabins and a few timber framed

buildings with their tall false fronts the school house remained a

neat and tidy environment for the children to gather in order to be

taught.  Various teachers had come and gone since Adam had designed it

for the Stringers and Joseph Cartwright had taken his seat among the

children from the mining camps, and those from the homesteads and

ranchs that were settling into the area.

 

It was a tremendously hard life for every family there, whether

toiling underground and subsequently heaving their lungs up from the

tuberculosis, bronchitis or other pulmonary desease as a result, or

fighting the land to bring order to it, to clear the trees away, to

plant crops that died in the first season, to get cattle to thrive and

breed.  But the obligation remained that the children were the front

line of a new generation and education was a necessity.

 

Joseph Cartwright formed a number of friends while at school, mostly

from the families of the ranchers and homesteaders.  Some of these

friendships would endure into adulthood while others would dwindle

over time.

 

One day he arrived at school with his lunch pail full of Hop Sings

goodies and his books slung over his shoulder.  He was late which was

not unusual as he had furthest to travel and had dallied on the way.

On this particular morning he found the playground empty and pushed

the door open with some timidity.  He had been told the previous

Friday that a new teacher was starting this particular day and as far

as he was concerned, a teacher was - well - just a teacher.

 

Miss Abigail Jones was a young woman who was old before her time.  As

she stood before her class and looked at the faces staring back at her

she wondered, not for the first time, just what she had let herself in

for by coming to this rough mining camp to teach their children.  She

glanced over at the boy hurrying in from outside and watched as he

closed the door and hurried to an empty seat “You’re late.”

 

Her voice snapped around the room in the way an elastic band snaps

back when stretched to its maximum and then released.  Joe froze and

looked at her “I have longest to come, and -”

 

“I won’t have excuses. In future you make sure you arrive at the

proper time or you will have detention.”

 

He stared at her and blinked, then smiled charmingly “I’m real sorry, Ma’am.”

 

“Sit down.  What’s your name?”

 

“Joseph Cartwright,, Ma’am.”  he fluttered his eyelashes and smiled

again, freckles peppered his cheeks and his hazel eyes were large and

twinkled.

 

Miss Abigail Jones stared at him, “It’s Miss Abigail Jones.  You will

address me in future as Miss Jones.”

 

He sat down and felt a nudge of the foot from the boy seated next to

him, they exchanged a roll of the eyes.  Miss Abigail Jones once again

surveyed her class and then after introducing herself briefly began

their first lessons together.

 

A  few months ago she had been teaching school in Philadelphia, rows

of neatly clad boys and girls in perfectly ironed uniforms, girls with

their ribbons and white aprons, and boys with their hair neatly combed

and their shirts and pants crisp and clean.  Here she had a motley

assembly of children dressed in all manner of attire. The majority of

children from the tents and cabins were bare footed, dirty, snotty

nosed and their clothes were either too big or too small and certainly

not clean.   On some of the worst she could imagine the fleas and even

perhaps, lice, hopping about their clothing and bodies.

 

The children of the homesteaders and ranchers were turned out a little

better, and she could see that those with more financial clout were

the better dressed, wore sturdy boots and as she could see when she

looked outside came to school on plump ponies. The girls wore pretty

dresses and ribbons in their braids, the boys dungarees and tidy

shirts.

 

She was 21 years old now and had been teaching school since qualifying

at the age of 16.  She had never dallied with a boy, nor had a

romance.  Her life was dedicated to education and when she read about

these ‘frontier’ schools she felt it was a calling with as much

fervour as a missionary seeing the need to travel to Africa and teach

in mud huts there.

 

As she raised her head to look at the children before her she wondered

if that would have been the better option… rows of little black

children from mud huts eagerly learning under her tutelage.

 

Some stifled laughter from the back row and she looked up and rose to

her feet, “Joseph Cartwright?”

 

“Yes, M’am, Miss Jones, I mean.”  Joe stood up politely.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’m - I’m doing my work like what you said.”

 

“Like how I told you…” she corrected primly.

 

“Yes, Miss, like what you told me.”

 

She looked at him, innocent of face, blank expression, lips twitching.

She scowled and nodded and watched as he sat down.  The lesson was a

short essay on who they were, and where they lived, a form of

introduction to her of each pupil.  The smaller children were to copy

their A.B.C from the board onto their slates.  She was already longing

for the day to come to an end.

 

The week dragged for everyone, pupil and teacher alike and wasn’t

helped by the heat that particular summer.  Joe had already had his

slingshot confiscated, been made to stand in the corner twice due to

some misdemeanour or other.  Other pupils had also been punished after

all Abigail Jones strove to be fair.

 

Friday afternoon and the end of the first week.  Miss Jones sat at her

desk primly rolling her pen between her fingers while Joe sat on the

bench seat in front of her.  She waited for the footsteps of the boys

father to fulfill her expectations of an elderly man who would, having

a son like Little Joseph, be worn with anxiety and worry.  When she

looked up she found herself watching a tall dark haired young man

walking confidently towards her,  hat in hand and a slight smile on

his face.

 

She watched him and it seemed as though he were floating on air

towards her… his smile widened, white teeth and dimpled cheeks made an

impression upon her mind, dark brown eyes like rich molasses and honey

beneath long lashes and curling black hair… she had to put a hand on

her heart to stop it thumping so fast.

 

“Miss Jones?”  Adam repeated her name for the third time and leaned

forward, his hand outstretched as though to touch her shoulder, it

hovered slightly but she seemed to come out of her daze before it

could do so.  He bit down on his lip, Joe sure must have done

something terrible for her to be like this, he glanced over at his

brother who just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cartwright ..you are Mr Ben Cartwright, this boys’

father?” her voice was shrill, she cleared her throat.

 

“No, Miss Jones, I’m this boys elder brother. Adam.” he stretched out

his hand “Adam Cartwright.”

 

His long fingers curled around her hand, the pressure was slight

before his hand fell away, and he was smiling at her again in a way

that made those confounded dimples seem absolutely - wonderful.

 

“Oh … I see.  Mr. Adam Cartwright.”

 

“Yes, Miss Jones.  That’s right.”  he cleared [i]his[/i] throat now,

and twisted his hat round and round between his fingers “Er - I’ve

come to see about Joe?  You sent a note to my Pa to ask him to see you

but he sends his apologies as he was  unable to keep the appointment

due to a prior engagement. I hope you don’t mind my coming in his

place?”

 

She had to hold onto the desk for support and smiled, then remembered

he was expecting a reply so nodded “well, of course not, these things

happen after all.  I’m - I’m de - I mean - I’m very pleased to meet

you, Mr. Cartwright.”

 

“About Joe.?” he turned slightly from the waist to observe his brother

and then resumed his gaze upon her, “What’s he done this time?”

 

“He -” she paused and looked at Joe who was now standing beside his

brother, looking sorrowful and woebegone.  “Perhaps you’d like to tell

your brother, Little Joseph?”

 

Joe cringed, he hated the way she called him that, he bowed his head

“I was chasing the girls …”

 

Adam raised his eyebrows, Miss Jones lips narrowed and she raised her

eyebrows as well “Go on, Little Joseph, the whole story now…”

 

“I was chasing Amy and Sarah with water from the trough.  Mitch and I

were going to throw it over them, they said they were too hot and we

thought it would be fun to cool them down.”

 

“Continue…” Miss Jones snapped, staring at him because the brown eyes

of the elder brother were having a very strange effect upon her, she

could feel her head swimming.

 

“Amy fell over, I fell over Amy and the water went over Miss Jones

instead.  It was an accident.” he mumbled with his head still bowed

although for some reason his shoulders were shaking.

 

There was silence for some moments, Adam Cartwright tugged at his ear

lobe, and then twitched his shoulders back “I - er - I think you owe

your teacher an apology, Joe.”

 

“I said sorry at the time.” Joe snapped back his lips thin.

 

Adam coughed into his hand and looked away, then straightened his back

and looked at Miss Jones “What punishment has he already received,

M’am?”

 

“He had several strokes of the ruler across his hand but …” she looked

at him and blinked, “He has several times disrupted the class …”

 

“Oh!” Adam raised his eyebrows higher.

 

“He’s brought his sling shot to school and used it on - on school

premises.” she folded her hands primly in her skirts.

 

Adam looked at Joe and shook his head “Joseph.” he said in a sorrowful

kind of voice which made Joe wince.

 

“I thought I should just let  you know, Mr. Adam - I mean - Mr.

Cartwright, that your son - brother - really needs a most firm hand.”

 

“Believe me,” Adam jiggled his hat a little in between his hands, “I’m

more aware of that fact than you’ll ever know.” he smiled at her, head

to one side, eyes slightly narrowed.

 

“So - you will see that he has some form of discipline when he arrives home?”

 

“I can assure you he will.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Cartwright.”

 

He nodded, smiled, and grabbed his brother by the shoulder “C’mon,

Joseph, quick march.”

 

Joe glanced up at him and frowned, his brothers fingers had really

tightened on his flesh, it had hurt.  When Miss Jones called after

them Joe actually saw a gleam of panic on his brother’s face, then

thought perhaps he had imagined it as Adam turned towards the teacher

with a smile on his face, “Miss Jones?”

 

“Little Joseph told me you enjoy reading poetry?”

 

“He did?” the grip on Joe’s shoulder tightened - traitor it seemed to

say -  but the smile remained fixed on his face.

 

“I - I really love poetry, and the classics - Milton, Shakespeare,

Francis Bacon …”

 

“Oh yes, mmm, well …”

 

“Perhaps, some time or other, we can discuss our mutual likes together.”

 

Joe didn’t believe it possible but his big brother was at a loss for

words, he assumed that the case as Adam didn’t reply right away and

then suddenly let out a kind of shuddering ‘Hahaha ,well, yes perhaps

we could …sometime.”

 

By the time Joe reached his pony and Adam had him by the scruff of the

neck and seat of the pants and hauled him into the saddle he knew he

was in for trouble.

 

Miss Jones sunk down upon her seat by her desk… was this love?  This

feeling that engulfed her now?  The shaking knees, the tremulous heart

beat, the colour and heat of her cheeks.  She raised a hand to cool

them for they were ice cold… and she remembered the feel of his

fingers around hers, the way he smiled.  She felt as though her body

were on fire …

………..

 

A rather corpulent man raised a hand to stop Adam and Joe going too

far, he was well dressed in a tailored suit, and looked totally out of

place in his surroundings.  Adam glanced around him as though to find

out a reason as to how this gent had managed to stroll around with a

gold watch on a gold chain across his ample vest without having been

assaulted and robbed.  Several other men stood at a discreet distance

with low slung gun belts, so, he thought, that answered that question.

 He looked down at the other man “You wanted something?”

 

“You Adam Cartwright?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Studied Architectural Engineering ?”

 

“What of it?” Adam narrowed his eyes and looked about him again, “Who’s asking?”

 

“Jonas Armstrong, sir.  I’m an architect myself, my offices are in Maine.”

 

“You’re a long way from home, Mr. Armstrong.”

 

“I wondered if we could get together sometime, and talk?”

 

“About?”

 

“Building.”

 

“Here do you mean?” Adam quirked an eyebrow, he could see Joe getting

fidgety and wanting to get off home, he looked at Armstrong again.

 

“Why not here?  People need homes. Banks. Offices.”

 

“True enough. Do you aim to build them?”

 

“In time.   Will you meet me tomorrow?”

 

Adam stared at him and ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth,

he shook his head “I won‘t be here tomorrow, I have to take some

horses to Fort Ransom.”

 

Armstrong nodded slowly “A pity.” he shrugged “Perhaps another time.”

 

Adam watched as the other man turned away, paused to take a cigar from

his pocket and thrust it  between his jaws.  He shook his head,

another opportunity lost, he looked at Joe who was scowling at him and

nodded, time to go home.  It had been a long time coming.

 

Chapter 24

 

In 1859 gold was discovered, a real Bonanza that was to become world

famous as the Comstock Lode, yielding bullion to the tune of millions

of dollars.  More and more people flooded into the Washoe and the

diggings finally had a name to call its own, Virginia City.

 

Armstrong, Struthers & Co. Ltd, Architects, flourished and prospered

as much as many of the miners during that time.  Some architects

arrived and set up rival companies, some became miners themselves and

some never found that elusive vein in their mines but died among their

contempories.

 

As the town expanded there was a call for more schools and Miss Jones,

who had left to teach elsewhere, returned to teach in the very

building that Little Joe had attended.  Her hopes of setting eyes on

the man she cherished in her heart were often thwarted now that there

were no longer any need for his brothers discipline to be discussed.

 

Joseph Cartwright was 17 years of age and watched the changes taking

place with wonderment.  His father viewed it with dread but realism,

as someone had once said, no one can stop a flood, especially when

humanity was concerned.

 

Life on the Ponderosa was one of sheer hard work, long hours and often

times exhaustion.  There were times when death was a constant feature,

during the time of the Truckee Strip incident there was quite bloody

conflict resulting in misery and death.  When Bishop sold his property

it was to a family called Jessop who would become a future thorn in

the Cartwrights flesh.

 

Adam and Hoss Cartwright noticed the changes as they walked along the

boards, each time they came to town there was something new to report.

 The Bucket of Blood was a going concern now, a building with large

windows and fancy gold lettering, far removed from the tarpaulin tent

of years previously.   They stopped to watch as a carriage drove by

pulled by two white horses, perfectly matched, the couple who drove by

nodded and raised a hand before passing on.

 

“He owns the biggest mining corporation in town now,” Adam muttered to

Hoss, and rubbed his chin as though it was a matter of some concern.

 

“Guess this is what they call progress, Adam.”

 

“They can call it what they like, it doesn’t make life any easier for

us.” his brother retorted, “They’ll want to get onto the Ponderosa

soon, mark my words, Hoss.”

 

“Yeah, but - why?”

 

Adam looked at his brother and shook his head, then hooked his thumbs

over his vest pockets “Because we have silver and gold on our land and

they’ll want to mine it.”

 

“Ah, right, of course, I see what you mean.” Hoss glanced up the

street, “There’s Amanda and Sally Ridley, reckon on going to speak to

‘em?”

 

Adam shook his head, “No, let’s go on in and get a drink before we get

on with business.”

 

The saloon was busy, as were most of the saloons in town, and they had

to use their elbows to get to the counter and order their drinks.

“Things sure change,” Hoss sighed, “I remember when I used to come

here and weren’t no one in sight.”

 

“Which was fortunate for you seeing as how you sneaked in underneath

the canvas because Pa wouldn’t let you come here.”  Adam tossed money

onto the counter and turned, a glass of beer in his hand. He raised it

to his lips as his eyes cast around for a table at which to sit, he

nudged Hoss and nodded over to a table in the corner to which they

both pushed their way through to sit .

 

“Adam?  Adam Cartwright?”

 

He turned immediately and upon recognising Jonas Armstrong he nodded,

placed his hat upon the table and indicated the empty seat.  Jonas, a

slimmer man now, sat down, “Adam, I’m more than pleased to find you

here.  I want to run a suggestion by you.”

 

“Sure, go ahead.” Adam glanced at Hoss and winked, then drank a little

more of the beer.

 

“We want to build a proper Town Hall for Virginia City.”

 

“Good idea.” Hoss nodded and slapped Armstrong on the back with the

result that the mans whisky slopped over his hand.

 

“Whereabouts?” Adam asked, “And why come and tell me?”

 

“Because you trained to be an architect - didn’t you?” Armstrong

leaned forward, his breath smelled of the alcohol and Adam sat back a

distance from him. “I didn’t forget that, and I think it’s about time

you put your training to good use.”

 

“I’ve not designed anything for a while, life’s been too busy.” Adam

said slowly even though something within him was stirring like the

embers of a long dormant fire that was being prodded alive.

 

“Look, you know what you’re talking about when it comes to

engineering, you and that Philip Diedesheimer fella, worked out that

system, didn’t ya?”  he leaned back, “I tell you what, I’m going to

advertise in the Territorial for any architect in the area to draw up

what they think is a suitable building for a Town Hall… and the best

one wins.”

 

Hoss wiped his mouth on the back of his hand “Wins what?”

 

“The contract of course.”

 

Adam shrugged and looked into his beer, “Well, I suggest you do that

then, Mr. Armstrong.”

 

Jonas nodded and finished his drink, picked up his hat and bade them

goodbye, but he placed his hand firmly on Adam’s shoulder as he rose

to his feet “Think about it, Adam. You trained long enough for the

qualifications after all.”

 

After he had gone Adam folded his arms on the table and leaned

forwards “Well then, there’s a man with a long memory.”

 

“Sure would be something if you won the contract though, Adam.  Our

own Town Hall designed by Adam Cartwright of the Ponderosa.  Sounds

good, huh.?”

 

 

Those self same words were echoed by Joe when he listened in on the

conversation later that evening.  Adam looked at Ben and raised an

eyebrow, “What do you think, Pa?”

 

“Well, Armstrong’s right in that you spent those years back east

getting your qualifications…” Ben rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “But

there’s a lot to do here, Adam.”

 

“I know it.”

 

“Has he said anything about when the date for the plans need to be submitted?”

 

“Nope.” Adam put down his cup and saucer and stretched out his legs,

he looked into the fire, “Anyway, I doubt if I’ll do it.”

 

Joe looked surprised “Why not?  I bet you’d be the best one, Adam.”

 

His brother smiled and shrugged “I haven’t designed anything of any

importance since I left college…”

 

“Several schools…” Hoss reminded him as he whittled on some wood.

 

“Yeah, and that bank, that was a fine building til it burned down in

that bank raid last year.” Joe added.

 

Adam only shook his head, once a long time ago he thought he would be

building grand edifices of stone and marble, with colonnades and

pillars and big windows … clapboard school houses and a modest bank

building hardly compared to such ambitious plans. He continued toying

with a book he had picked up and turned his attention to that instead.

 

 

The knock on the door interrupted him as he was looking through some

papers which he had taken from a leather briefcase usually kept beside

his desk.  He glanced up as his father appeared with a thoughtful

expression on his face. “Anything wrong, Pa?”

 

Ben glanced at the papers that remained in his son’s hand then at Adam

“You intend to go in for this contract?”

 

“I’m not sure.” Adam replied returning to his task of taking out the

papers which he slowly spread out on his desk, “I’ve some ideas

floating about in my mind but -”

 

“But?  Don’t you think you could do it?” Ben sat down on the chair

next to the bed and looked at Adam with narrowed eyes as though trying

to discern the  young mans innermost thoughts.

 

Adam gave a slight smile “Pa, I stopped thinking of myself as an

architect a long time ago.   There’s enough of them in town to build a

hundred town halls if they were needed.”

 

“Adam -” Ben paused and frowned, rubbed the back of his neck and shook

his head, “You’ve been so busy here on the Ponderosa that you never

really had a chance to do any designing work…”

 

Adam leaned back in his chair and pushed the papers to one side, “Pa,

the kind of buildings I wanted to design and see built -” he paused

and pursed his lips, frowned and looked a little embarrassed “I wanted

to build the kind of properties that we’d see back east, not these

timber frame wooden boxes that get built here.  This isn’t the place

for the kind of designs I wanted to create and now, I don’t know if I

could -” he paused and wondered whether the words he had been about to

use would have been suitable.

 

“You can do anything if you really wanted to, Adam.” Ben said, getting

the whole point of what Adam had been about to say totally wrong, but

his son didn’t enlighten him, he merely smiled and nodded.

 

He had actually been about to say he didn’t know if he could really be

bothered anymore.

………….

Things often happen for a reason, so Ben had always said, and it

seemed that despite himself his son did design the Town Hall for

Virginia City as a result of which he received several other

commissions for houses in the style that he enjoyed designing.  A Town

Council was formed and both Ben and Adam were asked to be members of

it, to represent the homesteaders and ranchers outside the environs of

the town.   Following that the Cattlemen Association was introduced

and they became founder members in order to protect the rights of the

ranchers in the territory. A School Board was organised of which they

were Governors.

 

It seemed that suddenly the town had matured.  Sheriffs came and went,

Jurisdictional Judges came and appointed Marshals and new sheriffs

appeared.  Eventually a man of experience came to town and took up the

law as sheriff. His name was Roy Coffee and he was no stranger to the

early settlers there, certainly not to the Cartwrights whom he had

befriends years earlier when he had been on the circuit as a law

keeper.  Six months here and six months moved on to another settlement

until eventually finding himself the permanent Lawman in Virginia

City.  One of the first things he did was to ask Adam to design and

get built a decent Jail house.

 

Times were changing and the more gold that came from the soil, the

more people streamed into the area, and the more threats there were to

the Ponderosa. Adam set aside his designs and concluded the time had

come to be free of that particular dream.

 

Chapter 25

 

There was a time when Adam could look back over the year and think to

himself that life could not get any better. He didn’t torment himself

over the fact that he had never set up business as an architect, and

he didn’t wallow in self pity because something he had nurtured since

a child had not borne fruition. He was content with his life with his

father and brothers on the Ponderosa, equally as much as they were .

 

He gained a measure of pride in what he had designed and built in the

town, but the most precious of all was their home - the Ponderosa.

Many times he had stood by the corral fence and watched as the moon

gilded the shingles with silver light, or the sun shone at a

particular angle to make the wood appear mellow and golden. There were

times when he would pause as he stepped up to the doorway just to run

his hand along the framework and to recall to mind the day it was set

in place or would admire the great chimney yet again in remembrance of

the hard work it took to build.

 

Unbeknown to himself Ben did very much the same. The pride he had in

his home may have gone unspoken but it was always there for every part

of it contained some story, some tale of rigour or humour. He would

often regale visitors of the time when a little boy decided he was

going to be an ‘arrky-teck’ and build their home. He gained immense

pleasure by adding proudly “-and he did just that.”

 

But that time now seemed to have fled and as Adam sat in his room he

cast his eyes down upon the design of a building and could see

nothing, nothing but despair and misery. When had life taken this

strange cruel twist onto a path that had led to nothing but the worse

of events, the most tortuous of tragedies.

 

He put his hand to his brow and closed his eyes. In the dark environs

of his memory he replayed the agonising day when he had shot and

killed his best friend, Ross Marquette. Oh true, there were many to

remind him that at the time Ross had actually tried to kill him,

having murdered his pretty wife only hours earlier, but he couldn't

forget that during his last moments on earth the man Adam had cradled

in his arms had been Ross.

 

As though life and fate had not twisted the knife sufficiently only

weeks later he had nearly killed his brother. Adam groaned within

himself and shook his head as memories flooded through him of that

long journey with Joe wondering if at any moment he would feel the

dead weight within his arms and know that he had killed …murdered…

yes, he whispered to himself yet again murdered … his brother. Oh Joe.

He shook his head and tried to send the memories fleeing from him.

 

Bitter hate for everything to do with the Ponderosa had over taken him

during those days, resentment at having to share the one miserable

doctor with countless others when his brother was in such need, the

misery of not being able to get the medication that would save his

life, the greed and selfishness of those who were prepared to take

advantage of their worse moments. Oh, no wonder he had sat and spouted

Thoreau to Hoss, patient humble Hoss…

 

Oh now this … now this … he bowed his head lower and covered his face

with his hands, and remembered how he had thought fate was at last

being kind in bringing to his attention the opportunity of a wife and

child only to have even that snatched from him.

 

He heard footsteps upon the landing and raised his head and squared

his shoulders, he turned his face to the door which after a light

knock was immediately opened to admit his father, who glanced at his

son with a face that looked alight with optimism and joy as he

announced that Dr Paul Martin was downstairs.

 

“To see me?” he frowned, glanced at the drawing on the desk and then

at his father, “Oh, of course.”

 

“Adam?” Ben frowned and approached him then placed a hand gently upon

his shoulder, “Of course to see you, I mean, after what happened this

afternoon you can’t expect him not to come and make sure for himself,

do you?” he smiled, his wide generous smile that spoke of pride, love

and relief.

 

This afternoon Laura had chosen Will, the woman he had wanted as a

wife had decided to take another … he nodded slowly and looked down at

the chair upon which he was sitting. Just another chair, not the one

he had been forced to spend weeks in due to that accident, a normal

chair from which he would now stand up from and walk away. He looked

at his father “Of course, I - I should have realised.”

 

“What you did today was remarkable, Adam.”

 

“Not really, Paul kept saying that it would heal, and - and it has,

and couldn’t have happened at a better time, could it?”

 

Did he sound bitter? He hoped not, he didn’t want anyone to think he

felt bitter over what had happened. He gripped the edge of the desk

and used it to help get onto his feet but before he had stepped away

from it Paul Martin was already at the door, bag in hand, a look of

incredulity upon his face. “Adam, is it true … ?”

 

Adam had never thought of himself as anything more wonderful than any

other speciman walking on two legs, but the look on Paul’s face almost

made him laugh. Wonder of wonders, it seemed to declare, after all

this time of confinement, wondering if he could, or would, ever walk

again and here he was … “Adam, it’s just wonderful, wonderful.”

 

Adam smiled, nodded, yes, wonderful.

 

During Paul’s examination and even while answering Paul’s questions

Adam thought over those few hours after he had overheard Laura and

Will talking about their relationship, and himself. He had felt, well,

if anyone had asked him how he had felt at that moment, he would have

had to admit to feeling nothing. Numb. Then his pride came to the fore

and with it anger, and then cold logic .. ..

 

Had he really loved her? That question tumbled around in his head

tirelessly? Had he? Or had his father been right that time he had said

Adam wanted marriage, someone to protect, a child to care for …

 

“Adam?”

 

He turned to look at Paul who was looking thoughtful, even a little

concerned, “I want you to walk from the bed to the window, would you

do that for me?”

 

Walk - well, why not? He stood up and steadied his feet upon the floor

and looked over at the window, then at his father. Ben had always said

he was stubborn, and his brothers called him a granite head because of

it, and he wanted to walk, didn’t he? Yes, of course he did, he wanted

to show them, show Laura, that he was not going to be dependent on

anyone, never again.

……………

 

Several days later he was on his horse and had decided that he would

take a look at this house he had designed and had started to build,

the monster that had devoured his time and nearly killed him in the

process. He rode slowly, in no hurry after all the weather was

beautiful for the time of year ..

 

His eyes scanned the skeleton of the building, the framework nearly

completed. He shook his head, he must have been mad he told himself

now to have even thought of undertaking such a task alone. He raised

his eyes to the cross beam that had been his Nemesis, and narrowed his

eyes as though seeing himself over reaching, determined to reach that

other section of wood and then falling, he could remember that bit

clearly, the falling and nothing there to stop him hitting the ground.

 

On the far side of the site were all the materials that had been

ordered and delivered, ready to be put in place for the house to be

completed. There were the windows, the doors, the shingles… he stared

at them awhile and then looked back at the framework. It would have

been his home, their home. Peggy would have played here and ran up and

down the stairs while he and Laura lived their lives and grew old

together.

 

He grimaced, a wry smile, well, that wouldn’t happen now. He nudged

Sport to walk on and around the structure looking at it from every

angle and then he stopped and looked over at the view. It was a

beautiful view, one he had always loved and had always brought him

peace of mind and contentment , even now he could feel the black

bleakness that had been filling his mind seeping away.

 

Wild flowers were blooming within the crevices of the rocks and bowed

their heads to the breeze, the river trundled its way through the

green grass below the slopes and trees stood elegant and tall close to

hand. A perfect spot, like poetry in physical form before his very

eyes. He smiled slowly, and leaned forwards in the saddle slightly to

ease the niggling ache in his back. One day he would finish this

house, he had designed it after all, and here he would make it his

home. One day he would bring his wife here, a woman who would love him

as dearly, as passionately, as he would love her; a woman who would be

nothing like Laura, nothing at all.

 

He dismounted and taking Sport by the reins led him down the grassy

slope to the banks of the river whereupon he sat down, stretched out

his limbs and watched the clouds scud by in a blue sky on a perfect

day.

 

Life was good once again, at last.

 

Chapter 26

 

It seemed to be a glorious summer that year which trickled into a fall

they all remembered for various differing reasons.  Life seemed full

of events, some funnier than others, some poignant in that it brought

losses to the town or settlements, even to themselves.  Old friends

died or moved away, new friends turned out not quite as friendly as

one had hoped.  For a brief time it seemed possible that Ben would

take himself a fourth wife, but that hope died along with her then

current husband.

 

In the evenings when the winter came the four men shared the

experiences of the past year while Hop Sing kept the fires burning and

food in their stomachs.  Life was hard for the ranches during the

winter and brought along with it a myriad problems that the four of

them, along with the ranch hands that ‘over wintered’ dealt with in

the manner that brought about the best results.

 

They teased Adam mercilessly over his adventure with ‘King Arthur’ and

then turned on Ben for being so hotly pursued by Widow Hawkins.  As

Adam said with a sigh, “I have nightmares of ‘Arry’s pink bloomers

taking pride of place over the chimney.” which would bring shudders

running down Ben’s spine.

 

They laughed over some of the things Sam Clemens had written while he

had lived there from September 1862 with his brother Orion who was the

Nevada Territorial Secretary from ‘61 and how it had seemed the whole

of Virginia City had ended up in their back yard looking for the

‘monster’ prowling around the Ponderosa.  It was a winter upon which

all could look back and remember fondly for the times shared together.

 

Snow came and graced the roof top of the Ponderosa ranch house and

blew through the chinks that time had wrought around the doors and

windows.  Spring would come and those chinks would be checked over and

repaired to spare further problems when the next winter brought new

gales upon them.

 

During that time of winter Adam sat at his desk in his room and

redesigned the house he had previously decided never to look upon

again. He tweaked this and that until he felt the property would one

day be good enough for the woman he would eventually, perhaps, carry

over the threshold.  During that spring he hired some men from town to

undertake the work having argued at length with his father, long and

hard, about the liability of taking the work on himself.  This was an

argument that Ben actually won.

 

That early summer Adam and Joseph Cartwright took cattle down to sell

and stopped off at a small town called Eastgate.  In a saloon called

the Red Dog they enjoyed a cool beer together, talked a little too

openly about just how much money they had on them, and went their

separate ways.  Joe chose to stay and see what happened to a man

called Obadiah Johnson, accused of murdering his wife and her lover

while Adam decided to spend a little time on his own and in doing so

met his Nemesis … Peter Kane.

 

……………

 

The moon was shy and slid behind clouds so that the shadows silently

seeped into the darker shadows until the Ponderosa seemed plunged into

a totality of darkness.   In the stables and corrals the horses

shifted in their stalls or pushed against the corral bars, restless

and nervous.  The barn owl took its silent flight from the barn to

seek its prey and  sent its lonesome call echoing through the night.

 

In the big house the four men lay upon their beds in their bedrooms …

one slept soundly, his mind reassured and settled now that his brother

was home, the anxiety of his loss and the misery of his finding now a

thing to put behind them, because for Hoss, life was about living each

day as it came, learning from each experience and moving on to the

next.

 

In his room Joseph Cartwright lay flat on his back staring up at the

ceiling.  His mind followed familiar channels that it had traversed

regularly during the past days.  It had been mind numbing to realise

that they had decided to turn back for home when his brother had been

so close to them all the time.   Thinking of the consequences had they

done so made his stomach tighten.  When ever he closed his eyes he saw

that same scene played over and over …a solitary man dragging a

travois with a dead man upon it, each step, each weary step, sapping

more and more strength from him.  What if they hadn’t noticed him?

What if they had ridden away when they had been so close to finding

him?

 

He knew it was futile to keep asking the questions after all they had

found him, they had buried Peter Kane and brought Adam home, they had

..they had …    but what if …they hadn’t?

 

Ben turned the flame in his lamp just a little higher so that he could

read the section of scripture more clearly.  How many times had he

read this section about faith?  How many times had he asked himself

why he had lacked faith when he had needed it most?  His son was near

death and he had been prepared to ride away … where had his faith been

in finding him?  It had gone, after a few days he had been ready to

come home.

 

Now his son was home safe and sound, well, safe anyway.  There was

something not quite right though, even after all these weeks there was

something - a restlessness, wariness ?  Ben shook his head and

concentrated again on his reading “If you have faith the size of a

mustard seed then you will say to that mountain move …”

 

He left the room unable to concentrate now and went downstairs to get

a glass of brandy and just sit by the fire, he needed to mull a few

things over in his mind and then, tomorrow, start afresh.  But as he

sat down he felt as though he were carrying the weight of his son’s

body in his arms again and hearing that wretched heart breaking sob

’Oh Pa…’

 

What had really happened during that time with Kane?  Why wouldn’t he

talk more openly about it?  Why keep it shut up within himself?   Hoss

had reminded them that he had been the same when Ross had been killed,

but that was  understandable because Adam had fired that fatal shot.

He had not killed Peter Kane …had he?

 

He raised his eyes upwards and heard the sound of footsteps pacing the

floor, back and forth they went, back and forth.   Ben reached for his

pipe and tobacco, slowly filled the bowl and finding the matches

struck one, the flame hovered and then he paused as he saw Adam coming

slowly down the stairs.  He immediately blew the flame out and put the

pipe down, “Couldn’t you sleep, son?”

 

“Couldn’t you?” Adam replied with a slight smile as he walked towards

the fire, then paused to stare into the dying flames “You alright,

Pa?”

 

“Yes, of course.  What about yourself?” he leaned back as though he

had all the time in the world to listen, and for this young man, yes,

he’d have given all that and more if it would have helped at all.

 

“Oh yes, I’m alright. D’you want something to drink?  Brandy?”

 

“That would be good, thanks.”

 

Adam moved to the cabinet and for a while all Ben heard was the clink

of glasses and the pouring of the liquor which he then carried back

with him to where Ben sat, after handing his father a glass he sat

down on the blue chair and stretched out his legs and swilled the

brandy round the glass.  “What’s on your mind, Pa?”

 

“Nothing. Well, nothing much… I just couldn’t sleep.”

 

“Anything worrying you?”

 

Ben took a deep breath, then expelled it before nodding “I’ve been

worried about you.”

 

“Me?  Why?”

 

Ben forced a slow smile and stared down into the glass, “Well, you

seem - restless.”

 

“Restless?”  Adam gave a mirthless laugh and shrugged, drank some of

the wine, “Why should I be restless?”

 

“Perhaps the experience you went through with that dead man you were

dragging through the desert may have done something …” he paused,

shook his head, “I don’t know.”

 

“Well…” Adam dragged the word out, sipped more of the brandy “I guess

a man has a lot of time to think when alone in the desert dragging

dead bodies about…” his smile was just a crooked grimace and he

shrugged again, “I wonder at what time during that trek he actually

died?” he said this more to himself that to his father, his brow

creased “He was still alive when we left the camp, I know that … I

made sure he was …”

 

“Was that important?  His being alive I mean?”

 

“Yes, it was.” Adam nodded, his dark hair was tousled and stubble was

dark around his jaw, he held the glass bowl between both hands and

swirled the liquor round and round a little more, “I wanted him dead

though, then when it looked as though he was I needed him to be

alive.”

 

Ben frowned and nodded, “Why?”

 

“Because -” Adam paused, thought hard for a moment , “Because he

wanted me to kill him, and I didn’t want him to have that satisfaction

of knowing he had succeeded in driving me to doing it.  I didn’t want

him to win.”

 

“To win?”  Ben frowned, shook his head, confused now, “Win what?”

 

“The game.  No,” Adam paused again, “No, it wasn’t a game“ he said

this quietly as though remonstrating with himself  “it was all rather

deadly serious really.  But that was what he wanted, he wanted to

drive me to killing him.”

 

“If he was mad …”

 

“He was, quite mad.” Adam nodded and looked intently at his father,

narrowed his eyes and then turned away.  “Quite mad.”

 

“Adam, you’ve killed men before … in this world we live in that’s been

unavoidable, so what was -.”

 

“Different about this man?”

 

“Well, if you want to put it that way  …”

 

Adam drew in his breath and rose to his feet, he stood a moment

looking down at the fire, the brandy glass in one hand, while the

other rested upon the chimney “Because this was different, he was

different … everything was different.”

 

“How?” Ben leaned forward, this was the most they had talked about the

matter and he dreaded his son deciding that now enough was enough, he

held his breath as Adam stared into the flames as though he had to

find the right words from there in the heart of the dying embers.

 

“Those I’ve killed in the past … we’ve killed… there’s  been little or

no choice in the matter, has there?  I mean, even with Ross it was

shoot or …” he rounded his shoulders in an off hand shrug, “But Kane

started off by saving my life when I was near dead anyway.  Then bit

by bit he -”

 

“He - what?”

 

“I’d mentioned to him that a man of principle could never kill just

for the sake of killing, that something fine within them would prevent

the thought becoming a reality.  And - then -”

 

He stopped, raised his eyebrows and drank his brandy before looking at

his father “Another one, Pa?”

 

“Er - no - thanks, ones enough for me at this time of night.”

 

Adam smiled and carried the empty glasses to the cabinet before

returning to his seat, he stroked his chin and shrugged “He wanted to

die but he didn’t want to die from hunger, or thirst, or by shooting

his brains out. He wanted to die knowing he had driven someone else to

killing him.  I didn’t want to cold bloodedly kill the wretch, but

there were times when I got so angry and he knew how close I was

getting so each day he’d goad me on just a little bit more…then one

day I heard you calling me and  I thought I was going mad then

especially when -.”

 

“We rode away?”

 

Adam nodded “Yes, that’s right, you rode away.”

 

He said nothing more, there seemed nothing more to  be said but he

stroked his upper lip with his forefinger and his dark eyes became

sombre and reflected the dying embers of the fire at which he was

staring.  Ben waited for some moments before the clock struck the hour

which seemed to break the spell as he rose to his feet “Time we tried

to get some sleep, son.”

 

Adam nodded and looked at Ben with a smile “We built a fine house,

didn’t we, Pa?”

 

“We built more than a  house, son, we built a whole new world, a

family, our home…”

 

Adam sighed and stood  up, put his arm around his father’s shoulders

“Come on, Pa, we got a busy day ahead tomorrow.”

 

“Today.” Ben glanced over at the clock and smiled, Adam allowed a grin

to pass over his expressive features and nodded “Yes, quite. Today

then…”

 

In his room Joe had finally fallen asleep. The murmur of the voice

downstairs combined with the drone of Hoss’ snores across the landing

a back ground lullaby to which he had finally succumbed.

 

Chapter 27

 

Letters arrived with a reasonable regularity now and the town

continued to grow along with the times. The population had grown to

over 10,000 and large mining consortiums had long taken over from the

small miners individual attempts to ‘find the elephant’ as a strike

had once been called. Gas lighting had arrived along with the Opera

House, hotels and theatres.

 

On the Ponderosa life had settled into a pleasant existence and the

ranch house mellowed further as season followed season. Adam talked to

Ben about designing an extension to the back of the ranch but before

he could put his design into reality a letter came that changed the

course of their lives.

 

Whether or not he had intended to keep it a secret from his father and

brothers Adam never said, but when the letter came he had to admit

later that it was a surprise to him as he had given up in expecting

any response to the enquiry he had sent months earlier.

 

It took him two days to find the courage and the right time to pass

the letter into the hands of his father for him to read and Ben had

smiled, seen the look on his son’s face and then looked concerned, and

then finally had read the letter. He read it twice to make sure he had

understood what he was reading and then just stood there as though

stunned. It was Joe who had asked what was wrong and had then snatched

the letter from Ben’s unresisting hand

 

“I don’t understand.” he muttered as his eyes scanned the words “What

does it mean?”

 

Ben sighed “It means that your brother intends to leave the Ponderosa, Joe.”

 

His voice was weary, as though there was no strength left in it and

although Adam had said quietly “Pa, it isn’t like that …” Ben had

shaken his head and turned away, his hands on his hips and his head

bowed as he stared at the logs piled on the gridirons.

 

“Lemme see that.” Hoss pulled the letter from Joe, almost tearing it

in half and read it, frowned, read it again “I - what - Adam? What’s

this mean?”

 

Adam shrugged and shook his head, reached out for his letter and then

looked at them with his eyes going from one to the other and to his

father who had turned now and repeated Hoss’ question “What does it

mean, Adam?”

 

Adam sat down slowly on the old blue chair and looked at the letter

then up at his father, “I’m sorry, I wrote to these people months ago,

and - and after I hadn’t heard from them I thought nothing would come

of it. I just thought there was no point in mentioning it to you, any

of you, when there seemed no likelihood of anything happening.”

 

“You didn’t think to mention it?” Ben’s voice rose higher and his eyes

darkened, veins stood out on his forehead “You didn’t think to mention

it?” he shouted this now as though his earlier question hadn't been

heard by all present there. “Something this important you didn’t think

needed to be mentioned?”

 

“I didn’t think anything would come of it.” Adam replied lamely while

his eyes looked at his father with a wistfulness not often seen on

him.

 

Joe gulped and squatted down on the arm of the settee, he wanted to

speak but somehow the words got stuck in his throat, Hoss just sat

down with his head bowed low, his chin resting on his chest as he

stared at his brother “But, Adam, why?”

 

Adam glanced at him anxiously then looked away, “Well, it was -” he

paused to think of what to say without creating further outbursts of

any kind, he coughed and shook his head, “Well, I thought it was time,

you know, time to do something different.”

 

“You’re bored? Is that it? You’re bored with being here with us? With

the Ponderosa?” Ben boomed and in the kitchen Hop Sing decided to make

a quick exit into the garden.

 

“No, Pa, no, not at all but the fact is I’m getting older and life

seems to have levelled out and I - I want to go places that I read

about, experience things I hear others talk about. That’s all.” he

looked at his brothers appealing “Don’t you understand?”

 

“I ain’t as old as you yet,” Joe said with brutal honesty, “Perhaps

when I am I’ll understand better. All I can see is that you want to

leave us and go away like you did before.”

 

Hoss shook his head “You know how I feel, Adam. I don’t need telling

you agin, life here on the Ponderosa is all I ever want, ever will do

too come to that.”

 

Adam clenched his hands into two fists and shook his head “I just want

to experience something different before I get too old and no good for

anything anymore. That’s all.”

 

“It isn’t a case of ‘That’s all’ though, Adam.” Ben said quietly,

“Nothing is that simple or that cut and dried. You leave here and -”

he shook his head “time will pass, things will change and you won’t be

a part of it. You’ll be gone, somewhere who knows where having your

experiences, and anything could happen in the meantime.”

 

“I know, I’ve been thinking about that, over and over ever since I got

the letter.” Adam nodded.

 

“You really want to go?” Ben asked simply while emotionally inside he

was yelling in fury.

 

“I want to go and I want to stay.” Adam replied quietly, “I don’t want

to leave here or go from you, but -”

 

“Yeah - but?” Hoss grunted and glowered at his brother, “You ain’t

never really settled here, not since you went to college and came back

with all that book learning.”

 

“That’s not true, Hoss, and it’s not fair either.” Adam replied

quietly, “I fought as hard as any of you to keep the Ponderosa safe

during those early years with the diggers, and I’ve taken my fair

share of bullets and beatings for being a Cartwright as well.”

 

Hoss shook his head, shrugged his shoulders then turned away as though

afraid to look at the object of his affections any longer, his hero,

his big brother … he heaved in a deep breath and struggled to maintain

his composure.

 

Ben rubbed his forehead with one calloused hand and then looked at his

son before sitting down again, he leaned forward “Adam, have you

thought all this through carefully?”

 

“Of course I have.”

 

“Do you feel the same way about it now as you did when you wrote that

letter of enquiry all those months ago?”

 

Adam turned his head to stare at Joe and then at Hoss, “No. I don’t

feel so sure or certain of myself now. I - I don’t want to leave my

brothers or you, Pa, but at the same time I feel that if I don’t do

this now, for me, then I’ll just -”

 

“You’ll go anyway.” Joe said quietly as he got to his feet his

handsome young face the picture of misery, “If you don’t go now, Adam,

you’ll just up and ride away some day without ever even telling us, I

know it, so do you.”

 

It surprised Adam and Ben that the youngest of them had the most

insight into how his brother felt; Joe felt tears prickling to the

surface and he shook his head as though that would deny their

presence, the only reason he didn’t weep was because he was too numb

and Adam had to look away as though unable to face those moist hazel

eyes as he heaved in a deep breath “I think you’re right, Joe. I think

that’s just what I would do.”

 

“But why? I mean, I know you explained why but - I don’t understand -

why?” Hoss almost wailed and he looked first at his father and then at

Adam “Couldn’t you just move to town for a while? Or San Francisco?

Jest until you got this outa your system?”

 

Adam shook his head, raised his shoulders and shrugged “Look, when I

was a child I travelled, with Pa, alone. We crossed wilderness,

desert, Indian territory and we did it often on our own. I never

wanted to settle in any place - you know that, Pa - I always wanted to

move on.”

 

They looked at him blankly, Ben nodded but his brothers turned their

faces away. He waited but when there continued to be nothing but

silence he continued “I guess it put a restlessness in me, all that

travelling. Pa, you taught me to navigate by the stars, you taught me

all your craft and skill as a seaman, you told me stories of when you

went to sea, and your father before you ..”

 

“I know, it was all that I had known before -” Ben said and shook his

head, “But that doesn’t mean, it doesn’t explain why you need to go

now.”

 

“Why doesn’t it? My life was -” he paused for want of finding the

right word “Look, Pa, you took me from one place to another and all I

wanted was to reach this paradise you talked about and build our home.

And we did that, and then I went to college and along with learning to

design buildings I spent time with my grandfather who talked of ships

and sailing, and other countries.” he paused again, shook his head and

stood up “I’m sorry. I‘m sorry if what I‘m saying makes no sense to

any of you, and if you don‘t understand.”

 

No one spoke as he walked from the room and went outside, the door

closed with a sharpness to it, and silence remained there until Joe

said he was going to his room. Hoss watched him mount the stairs and

then turned to Ben “Pa? Are you going to let Adam go?”

 

“I can’t very well stop him, Hoss, as he’s rightly reminded us, he’s

getting on in years, he’s not a boy any longer.”

 

“Pa? What’re we gonna do with out him here?”

 

Ben stood up and put a gentle hand on his sons shoulder, he didn’t

want to admit to Hoss that he’d rather not think about that, it was

too hard to even contemplate. But he shrugged anyway and mumbled “ I

guess we’ll just keep working here until he comes home again.”

 

It didn’t seem quite sufficient, Hoss knew what he meant but he wanted

more, some reassurance that nothing would really change even though he

knew everything was going to anyway.

 

 

 

In the stables Adam took down his saddle and got Sport ready for a

ride. He felt he needed the time to cool down, to feel the air in his

face and to think about his family’s reaction to what he had shown

them in that letter. As Sport loped out of the yard he remembered how

it had all started, all those months ago when everything had seemed so

black and frustrating, when everything was going wrong in his life.

 

It was only then that he had found the letter from his grandfather

yellowing among other papers. It had been addressed to him although he

couldn’t remember ever having seen it before but assumed that it must

have been gathered up among the others and put altogether in the

valise. He had read it carefully before taking it to Hiram their

lawyer in town for clarification. After Hiram had read it through he

confirmed that Abel had detailed all that was required for his

grandson to get a Commission in the navy. All that was necessary was

to apply to the President, tell him about his college education, give

some background information re his families sea connections and then

wait and see what happens .

 

Months of waiting and suddenly there it was in black and white, an

invitation to go to Boston and sit before a panel of Naval Officers

who would discuss the matter with him and decide whether or not he was

a suitable candidate for a Commission. It had set his world upside

down, and he had to go and take a long drink of water to stop his

stomach churning over.

 

It was just the interim period that was so testing now … the having to

let go, once again, of those he loved and helping them somehow or

other, to let go of him.

 

When he rode home late that night the moon shone upon the house he had

designed all those years ago. It shone all over with silver light and

had never looked so picture card perfect as it did then. He sat in the

saddle and remembered when he had drawn his first picture of what

their home would be like, and how there was a man on one of the wagon

trains who had shown him how to design a house correctly. Just as his

fathers dream had been to find that Eden he and Elizabeth had spoken

about so much, so it had been his own personal longing to build that

house, complete with stairs and enough bedrooms for everyone. It had

been the hook that had continually drawn him along to its completion.

 

He felt a tightness catch at his throat as his eyes wandered up to the

windows … his fathers bedroom with the light shining there and his

father’s shadow passing and re-passing as he paced too and fro. There

was the window of Hoss’ room, and below that the window to the study.

 

He shivered, it seemed as though suddenly the winds of change were

blowing and that there was going to be a lot of pain with it.

 

Chapter 28

 

Nothing more was said about Adam’s future plans, it was as though time

was holding judgement on the whole affair and no one risked a word in

case too much was said too soon.  Ben took on the attitude that if he

ignored it long enough it would go away and everyone else followed his

example so well that sometimes it was almost possible to believe they

had imagined that conversation about ships and the sea.

 

Ed Payton rode back to claim his home and ended up a permanent feature

on Boots Hill.  Adam’s family waited to see if that would be the straw

on the proverbial camels back but it was not, Adam remained close

mouthed and steely eyed even when the Cass’ moved away and the

Michaelsons took over the Hardware Store.

 

They wondered if giving such a bright lad as Michael Michaelson

private tuition would encourage Adam to remain home, although not one

of them mentioned such a thought to any of the others just in case,

well, in case it didn’t.

 

Howard came on the scene and left behind the legacy of a song

 

“Poor Howards dead and gone,

Poor Howards dead and gone,

Poor Howards dead and gone,

Who’ll be there to sing his song.”

 

It seemed at times to Ben as though even the house was standing on

tiptoe in anticipation and dread. The joists seemed to creak more, the

stairs took their time to settle in an evening and the shingles

murmured above his head at night.  When morning came he forced himself

to amble down the stairs and smile brightly, and greet them all with

as cheerful a face as possible.

 

Work went on through the weeks, calves had to be  branded and trees

had to be hewn down and fences needed to be repaired.  Adam took to

taking on tasks that took him from home, alone, which chewed Bens

nerves to shreds.

 

Adam wasn’t oblivious to his father’s feelings, but he knew Ben well

enough to know that when the time was right another conversation would

be forced upon them all and they would have to bare their souls for

the greater good and he honestly didn’t want it. Being at home and

looking to a future away from them all was pulling him apart from the

inside out and the only time he had peace was when he was out on his

own.

 

There were still squatters to be chased off their land, still the odd

bullet to duck and avoid.  He went to bed at night wondering if the

next day would be the day he would have to say farewell and as much as

he longed for it, he also dreaded it.

 

Joe was chomping on an apple one morning when Adam returned from doing

his early chores, he looked over at his little brother and smiled

“What you looking at, Joe?”

 

Joe’s shoulders tensed for a second and then he shrugged, “Oh some

maps I found here in Pa’s old desk.”

 

“Really?” Adam walked over to join him and looked down, his fingers

smoothed away the corners that were curling and he grimaced “Hawaii?”

 

“Er - I was just looking.” Joe sighed, and looked down at the map in

the direction that Adams eyes were travelling, “That’s a lot of sea,

Adam.”

 

“Yes, it is.”  Adam clamped his mouth shut and nodded.

 

“Reckon you’d be going to places like that?  Japan?  Hawaii?”

 

“I don’t know, Joe.”

 

“Are they places you’d like to go and see?”

 

“Wouldn’t you?” Adam looked at Joe and for a moment Joe’s grin took on

the sparkle of mischief then he shrugged and shook his head “Nope, not

really. I don’t think I’d like to go on a boat.”

 

“A ship.”  Adam said by way of correction.

 

“Alright then, a ship.” Joe looked at Adam and then took another bite

of the apple, before he walked away leaving Adam to roll that map up

and observe another, “You still got your mind set on going?”

 

“I guess so, yes.”

 

“Well, I guess seeing as you got no woman in your life there ain’t no

point in your sticking around here just getting old.” Joe slumped down

on the settee and waved the apple about “When I get as old as you I

might even want to go places I’ve never seen  before, but not on boat

- ship.”

 

“So you wouldn’t miss me then?” Adam smiled and joined his brother,

sitting in the old blue chair next to him.

 

“Ah well, that’s where you’re wrong, older brother, because I shall

miss you.” Joe frowned and nodded, he looked at Adam, swallowed and

then looked away, “I will miss you, Adam.”

 

Abruptly he got to his feet, tossed the apple into the fire and turned

to go but Adam caught him by the arm, “I’m sorry, Joe, I’m sorry if it

upsets you but I really can’t stay much longer and - “

 

“Don’t, Adam, don’t say no more. I don’t want to hear it. I

understand, but - just leave me be.”

 

Adam watched his youngest brother take to the stairs, then lowered his

head and bit down on his bottom lip, then looked over at the door as

his father and Hoss stepped into the room.  Ben tossed his hat onto

its peg and looked around him “Joe alright?”

 

“Yeah, he’s - fine.”

 

Ben and Hoss looked at one another doubtfully, but it was Hoss who

asked what it was that had upset Joe, and then handed Adam an envelope

“Reckon it had anything to do with this?”

 

Adam rubbed his jaw and then took a deep breath as he opened the

envelope and pulled out the letter, Ben tried to pretend it was just

another letter and walked over to the table and sat down as though

food would miraculously appear if he did so.  Hoss stood near his

brother with his hands on his hips looking  up briefly at the sound of

Joe’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Well?” Hoss asked, jutting out his jaw, “Anything you’d like to share?”

 

Adam’s mouth was unexpectedly dry, he licked his lips and slipped the

letter into the envelope and joined his father at the table. “They’ve

booked my passage, Pa.  I have to leave in a few days time.”

 

Ben grimaced and nodded “I see.  Best sit down, son, and eat your

breakfast. Hoss, Joe, come and sit at the table.”

 

Adam narrowed his eyes and looked at his father, wondered briefly if

his father had understood what had been said, but then Ben nodded “So

- they’re paying for you to get there ?”

 

“No, I’m going to work my way, then the Captain can give some kind of

reference to how I work on board ship, even if it is for only a few

months.”

 

Ben straightened his shoulders and then looked down at the meal that

Hop Sing had set upon the table, “I see.”

 

Hoss said nothing but put some food on his plate and Adam poured

coffee into his cup, while Joe thought of all that sea, so much more

blue on a map than anything else and boats, ships, call them what you

will, they were mighty small in comparison.

 

 

It was a fait accompli and they all knew it and accepted it as such

although it tore at all of them.  In the evenings they talked about

the past, the people they had met and known, the misadventures they

had shared, the way they had felt when one of them had been hurt.  It

was a case of “Do you remember …” “How about when …” “I wonder how …”

so that they all did their share in scratching at the wounds and

keeping them sore and open.

 

Then they would go to their beds and think their own private thoughts

and wish that they could hold back time.

……………………….

 

Adam Cartwright sat in the stagecoach and waited for the other

passengers to board. A man and his boy, a young woman and an old man.

They crowded in together and the woman smiled even as she dabbed her

eyes with a handkerchief having said her farewells and not wanting to

prolong them.

 

Adam looked round and out of the window, his father, Hoss and Joe

stood there and nodded, smiled.  They raised their hands and he nodded

to them and tried to blank out the depths of misery in their eyes

which would, he knew, weaken his resolve.  Ben approached and put his

hand on his son’s arms “God bless you, my boy.”

 

“Thank you, Pa. And you also.”

“I hope following your dream makes you happy, son.”

 

Adam drew in a long deep breath and frowned “Thanks, Pa.”

 

They had said their many private words the previous night, and

repeated them again that morning, his brothers and himself, his

father, there was nothing more to say now, not really.  “I’ll see you

soon, Pa.”

 

Ben only nodded, a brief smile and he stepped  back as the stage coach

surged forwards, dust billowed from beneath the wheels but they didn’t

move, they raised a hand even though they knew that Adam wouldn’t be

looking back.

 

The boy looked at him and said “Mr. Cartwright?”

 

He didn’t want to get into conversation with any one, he couldn’t

trust his voice, but he looked up at the boy and nodded.  The child

smiled “It’s me, Mr. Cartwright, Jimmy.”

 

He still just looked at him, narrowed his eyes while his brain groped

for a name to put to the face so that the  boy looked disappointed  “I

was in your class when you were the teacher when Miss Scott was ill.”

 

Another memory to haunt him, he forced a smile, “Of course, hello, Jimmy.”

 

“I remember your lessons, Mr. Cartwright. I sure wish you had stayed

being our teacher. You were real good, I learned a lot.”

 

The father leaned forwards “He did too, seemed like suddenly he

realised there was some point in learning to read and write.” he

patted his son on the back, and the freckle faced lad grinned and

nodded.

 

Adam listened to the boy as he chattered on and remembered that time

too well. A time when his pleasure at teaching had been marred by the

death of a man because he, Adam Cartwright had deemed fit to delve

into the history of the land and peoples that man belonged to, he

thought of it as a failure.  A death because of him of an innocent

man, the last of his people.  He leaned back and smiled at the boy who

enthusiastically was telling him he had been a great teacher.

 

Life, as Shakespeare had said, was just a stage and men were merely

actors  upon it. He could repeat that section by heart but he saw

himself there .. Would be teacher, would be architect, would be deputy

sheriff.  He lowered his hat over his face and shut himself off from

the gaze of those there, his heart was breaking and he didn’t want any

witnesses to it.

 

He had taken his last ride on Sport the previous evening just as night

had fallen, they had gone as far as his favourite place, where a house

had been built and stood empty as though waiting for its owner to

return to it.  He had wondered if he would ever get to see it again,

or live in it.  The view even then had been lovely with the moon

shining upon the river and sending scattered diamonds of light

rippling to the banks along its shore.

 

Then he had slowly made his way home, to the Ponderosa and looked upon

the ranch house that he and Hoss had helped Ben build. Long ago it

seemed, so long ago…he had stood among the trees and just looked at

it.  The house that he had built …well, not really, but it had been

conceived from his dream just as the land had been part of his

fathers.

 

Well, all that was over for now, a new dream was about to begin …