My darling Marie,

Yesterday will live in my memory, my very soul, as a treasure, always.  The magical music of your warm laughter, the playful sparkle in your dancing emerald eyes, the delicious fragrance of wildflowers following your soft footsteps about the room.  How you lifted my spirits!  Oh, how they soared!  For I knew, at last, I’d reached your spirited heart. 

My own heart sang out,  ‘At last, you have set the fire of love burning in this divine creature.’   Your words of love and devotion for your husband and sons seemed but a foggy memory.  When your delicate hand squeezed mine and you pressed it to your sweet lips, I …

The front door slammed.   Twelve-year-old Joe Cartwright jammed the letter into its envelop and slapped it back between the pages of Adam’s history text.   Snapping the book shut, he shoved it into the open slot on his brother’s bookshelf before scrambling down the hallway to his own room.  Heart racing, he hastily shut his door, falling back against it, eyes shut tight against the words burning behind them. 

As footfalls on the steps hit his ears, he flung himself across his bed.  Grabbing his school tablet, he drew in deep breaths, begging his heartbeat to slow before the approaching footsteps reached his doorway.  He snatched up his pencil, then wrestled to recall the day’s spelling words and definitions.  Shame burning his cheeks, he watched his pencil wobble on the paper as the words in the hidden note scrawled out across his mind.

A sharp knock at the door sent his hand jerking forward, leaving a thick, jagged pencil trail across his worksheet.  “C... Come in.”  Joe rolled over, to find himself staring into questioning hazel eyes. 

Adam took in the deep blush on his brother’s cheeks and his skittish manner.  “What’s wrong, boy?  You look a bit upset.” 

Joe swallowed hard, grasping for a way to put his brother off the scent.  “You... You just surprised me is all, Adam.  I... I wasn’t expecting anyone home yet.  Thought you and Hoss were gonna be later, with all the brandin’ you said was left ta do.  And I know Pa said he wouldn’t be home until supper time, with his meetings in town today.”  The boy forced out his best grin, brightly announcing, “Really, things couldn’t be better.” 

You should have left off that last sentence, little brother.  I almost bought your performance, up ‘till then.  What are you hiding now?  Wish you’d learn to just talk to us, when something’s bothering you.  It’s always such a tug-of-war, getting to the truth.  No sense pushing it.  You’ll just deny there’s a problem.  It’ll come out eventually, one way or the other.  Always does.  

Eyeing the pile of books on the bed, he changed the subject, “Looks like Miss Jones is trying to drown you tonight.   Haven’t seen you with that many books in some time.” 

“Oh, well, some of these are from Pa’s library.  I was lookin’ up somethin’ for a history paper I gotta write.” 

“Oh?  Well, maybe I have a book or two that will help.”  Joe’s complexion melted to a deep scarlet.  Exasperated, Adam huffed, “Boy, what on earth is bothering you?” 

“Adam?  I...”  No, I can’t tell him.  I was in his room without askin’.  And readin’ that letter was just plain snoopin’.  I’ll just have to sneak back later and finish it.  Maybe the rest of the letter will explain what Mama was doin’ with that man.  She just couldn’t have loved anybody but my pa.  She just couldn’t! 

“Joe, you’re obviously upset about something.  You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

Studying his fingers, Joe shook his head.  “No, it’s nothin’, Adam.  Really.  J... Just something some kid said at lunch today.  You know how kids are sometimes, tryin’ to embarrass each other.”  A nervous laugh escaped.

“Yeah, I know how kids are.”  I sure know how THIS kid is anyway.  Stubborn as the day is long!  Best let him work out how to come to me or Pa with it.  Remembering the boy’s history assignment, he offered, “Do you want me to bring you my books, Joe?”

“Um, uh, no thanks, Adam.  I think I can finish the paper with what I got here.”

Noting the open tablet on the bed, Adam suggested, “Need help practicing your spelling words?”

“No, Adam.  Thanks.”

“Well, okay then, I’m going to get my bath.  If you change your mind, let me know.”

Joe nodded silently, but the only thing on his mind was to slip back into Adam’s room and peek at the rest of the letter.  Listening at the door, he waited, startled by another knock, only moments later.  Adam entered carrying a book:  History’s Triumphs and Tragedies.  Finding the boy just inside the entrance, Adam raised an eyebrow, before mentioning, “This is a good one.  It’s very detailed, but I think you’ll find it’s easy to read.  Anyway, you see if it’s any help.”

Joe gaped at the very volume that only moments ago sent his life spiraling out of control.  Grasping the text, he responded quietly, “Thanks, Adam, it ... it looks like just what I need all right.”

With a sympathetic smile, the older brother squeezed the youngster’s shoulder.  “If there’s anything else I can do to help, you let me know.”  Nodding silently, Joe turned away, his heart pounding, as he listened for the click of the door latch.   Franticly he opened the book to where he’d stashed the mysterious message.  When the envelop wasn’t where he expected to find it, he flipped wildly through each page, suddenly realizing Adam had removed the document.

Too distracted to tackle his essay or spelling, Joe abandoned his school work and sought out brother Hoss.   As he entered the barn, the mask of worry shadowing his face slid off, chased by a bright smile.  Before him his large brother sat in a pile of hay, talking to his upended hat on the ground.   A black and white kitten crouched in it, then popped up when a red tabby attempted entry.  The pair batted each others’ ears while Hoss chuckled at their antics.

Looking up, he continued to laugh.  “Ain’t they cute, Joe?  They sure do like playin’.”

Joe grinned.  “Where’s the mama?”

“Well, these kits don’t need as much motherin’ as they used ta,  I reckon.  She’s probably off lookin’ fer a mouse.  I’m sure she cain use a break from these younguns.   Must get tiresome, havin’ them little critters feedin’ off her, all at one time.

His solemn mask returning, Joe sighed.  “Hoss, what makes a married woman fall in love with a man who ain’t her husband?”

Looking up quickly, mouth hanging open, Hoss sputtered,  “Huh?  What in tarnation makes ya ask a question like that, Little Joe?”  He scratched his head.  “Besides, yer askin’ the wrong big brother about that kinda thing.  I ain’t got no experience with women!”

The boy mumbled, “No reason, just wondered,”  then turned away, heading out of the barn.

Hoss scrambled to his feet, gently dumping the kitten out of his hat as he did so.  “Joe, wait.”

“I gotta feed the chickens and get some firewood chopped, ‘fore someone hollers at me, Hoss.”

Hoss grabbed his brother’s arm.  “Now, hold on a minute.  You ain’t gonna walk away and leave me hangin’, little brother.  What made ya ask that jest now?”

“Don’t matter.”  Joe pulled away and left his brother scratching his head.

Deciding he couldn’t keep this under his hat, Hoss headed for the washhouse, entering at his brother’s okay.  Spilling out a summary of his conversation, Hoss watched Adam’s forehead wrinkle.

“That boy is gonna make me gray before my time, Hoss.  I knew something was bothering him.  He was acting quite peculiar when I went to check in on him earlier.  This just muddies the waters.”

“Did ya ask him what was wrong, Adam?”  Hoss reflected his brother’s worried expression.

“Sure, but you know little brother, when he has a problem, he clams up about it.  I’ll talk to Pa tonight, though I don’t expect he’ll get any further than we did.  That boy won’t talk until he’s ready.  Unfortunately, things will likely be well out of hand by that point, but we’re used to picking up the pieces, aren’t we ‘big brother’?”

“Yeah, I reckon we are.”   Hoss grinned, watching his older brother relishing his soaking.  “You gonna get outta that tub, so I cain git clean too or are ya gonna make me come ta supper smellin’ like somethin’ even a vulture wouldn’t touch?”

Adam laughed, “All right.  Throw me my towel.  Hop Sing promised there’d be more hot water for ‘fah-tha’s biggest boy’, by the time I was out.”

Hoss chuckled.  “That little man takes good care a me, don’t he?”

“He takes good care of all of us – after a measured amount of fuss, but, like our pa, his bark is worse than his bite.”

“You’d better not let Pa catch ya talkin’ that-a-way.”

“And just what shouldn’t your pa be hearing?”  Ben Cartwright stood in the doorway, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Oh, hi, Pa.”  Hoss removed his hat, suddenly going over it with a fine-toothed comb.

“‘Oh hi,’ yourself, young man.”  Hands sliding to hips, he eyed his two oldest sons, then announced, “Hop Sing sent me out here to find out if ‘number one son finish yet.  Dinner be ruined, if boys not finish bath soon’.”

“I’m finished, Pa.  And I’m sure Hoss won’t take long, knowing the fate of dinner is in his hands.”  Drying quickly, Adam slipped into fresh clothes, then exited with their father. 

“Hey, Pa?”

“Yes, son?”  Ben stopped, lines of concern sprouting, as he glimpsed worry in Adam’s eyes.

“Just wondered if you knew about anything that might be setting Joe on edge?”

“No.  Why?  What’s happened?”  Adam relayed the events of the day, watching the wrinkles in his father’s forehead deepen.  Sighing, Ben considered, “Do you suppose this is all over a fellow student’s teasing, as he said?  Or do you think that was just a cover-up?”

“My instincts tell me it’s something else.  The look in his eyes ... suggested it was a .…”

“A lie?”  A new wave of furrows creased Ben’s forehead.

“He’s troubled, Pa, doesn’t know how to talk about what’s on his mind.  I don’t like to call it a lie.  It’s just his way of avoiding .…”

“Telling the truth?”  Ben smiled at his son’s frustrated expression.  “I do understand, son.  Really.”  Running a hand though his silver hair, he sighed once more.  “Well, we’ll see what develops.  Where is he anyhow?”

“Should be doing his chores, but perhaps he’s finished and gone back to his homework.  Miss Jones has him writing a history essay.  He’s just swimming in books up there.”

“I’ll go up and check in with him, on the pretense of collecting him for supper.”

“Good luck.” 

*****

Ben heard rustling in his eldest son’s room as he reached the top of the stairs.  Anger surging, he marched down the hall to fling open the door.  “Just what do you think you’re doing, Joseph?”

Dropping the book in his grasp, Joe stammered, “I... I ... Adam said he had another book I could use for ... for my history homework.   And ...  I ... I knew he was in the bath ...  I ... I was just searching for it, Pa.”

The boy’s evasive eyes, his posture and his stumbling explanation spoke a different tale.  Eyeing the dropped tome, his father pointed out, “Joseph, the book you were holding is not a history book, is it?”

“No, sir.  I ... I guess I grabbed the wrong one ... by mistake.”  The boy hung his head, knowing how false the words sounded.   The contents of the letter tormented him.  He ached to ask for the truth behind it, but he could hardly ask his father to clear up the mystery, nor could he explain that the letter was the object of his search.  “I’m sorry, Pa.”

Ben mulled over his conversation with Adam.  Whatever was troubling his youngest was tied up somehow in his decision to invade his older brother’s room.  “Joseph, come here.” 

Joe never raised his head as he shuffled towards his father.    Ben sat on Adam’s bed and took the child by the shoulders.  “Joseph, you and I both know you’re not being completely honest with me.  Won’t you try and tell me what’s troubling you, son?”

Shaking his head, Joe whispered, “It’s not anything I can talk to you about, Pa.  Please, don’t ask me anymore.  I know I shouldn’t have come in here without permission.  I deserve to be punished, but please, don’t ask me anymore questions.”

Watching tears slip down the child’s face, Ben reached out to pull the troubled boy into his embrace.  He felt him tremble, in his effort to hold back his tears.  “Let them come, son.  I won’t ask you anymore questions.”  Stroking the boy’s head, he added, “But whenever you’re ready to talk, Joe, I’ll be ready to listen.” 

After several moments, the youngster quietly spoke into his father’s shoulder, “Pa, did you truly love my mama?”

Startled, Ben replied instantly, “Of course I did, son, with all the love in my heart.”

“Did my mama love you, just as much?”

Pulling Joe away from his shoulder, his face full of questions, Ben responded emphatically, “Yes, son.”

“But how do you know it?”

Large, callused hands tenderly captured the solemn face.  “Joe, the love between your mother and I was strong and very mutual.  Believe me, son, a man just knows.”  Though Joe nodded, doubt shone in his eyes.  “Joseph, you are the product of our love.  Please believe me, your mother and I loved each other as much as any two people possibly can.”

When no more questions came, Ben stood, resting a hand on his boy’s shoulder.  “Now, why don’t you get the other book you need and then wash up and come to supper.”  He added firmly, “I don’t want to find you in this room again without permission, Joseph, no matter what the reason.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”  Quickly locating Adam’s other history book, Joe slipped quietly out of the room.

*****

Concern clouded Ben’s face as he descended the stairs.  Adam met him at the bottom.  “What is it, Pa?”

Knowing they only had a couple moments before Joe would join them, Ben quietly revealed, “I found him riffling through your books.”

“Going through my books!”  Adam demanded sharply,  “For what reason?”

“He said you offered him two texts, but only actually gave him one.  Is that true?  Because he claimed to be looking for the other one.”

Adam nodded, silently sliding the puzzle pieces about.  His father’s next admission added still another piece. 

“The only thing is, the book he had in his hands when I caught him was one of your college architecture texts.  Ben watched a flicker of understanding pass across his oldest son’s face.  “Something?”

“What?  Um, no, Pa, I can’t figure it.” 

Ben’s keen senses detected the lie.  For a second time that evening he ignored a son’s misdemeanor.  For Joe’s sake, I’ll overlook this transgression, but before this business is over, I’ll have the truth, from both you boys.

*****

Jolted from sleep, Adam recognized the thud of a log landing in the fireplace.  Slipping into his robe, he crept downstairs, to discover Joe staring into the roaring flames.  He studied the child’s slumped posture, before breaking into his troubled thoughts.  “Joe?”

Jumping to his feet, the boy haltingly explained, “I... I couldn’t sleep, Adam.  Thought I’d read for awhile.”

A quizzical eyebrow leaped as Adam stared at his brother’s empty hands.  “And the book of choice would be .… ?”

“I … I was still thinkin’ on it,” the boy offered weakly.

Adam shook his head, “Come on, buddy, out with it.  Whatever it is that’s torturing you, it’s time to spill it.  Time to get it out of that head of yours, so your family can help you.”   Spotting Marie’s picture on the coffee table, he insisted,  “Joe?  Look at me.”  Watching his brother’s eyes carefully, he asked, “Today when Pa found you in my room, you weren’t really searching for my other history book, were you?”

Joe hung his head, mumbling, “No, Adam.”

“You were looking for a letter, weren’t you?”

Glancing up briefly, the boy dropped his gaze quickly, his throat tight, “Yes.”

Cupping his hand under the youngster’s chin, Adam forced him to meet his eyes once more.  “You’d been reading it when I arrived home yesterday.  Right?

Joe’s chin trembled, still captive in his brother’s hand.  He nodded silently.

“You didn’t get to finish it though, did you?”  Adam’s eyes held more than just a question; more than simple concern, as well. 

Joe tried to pinpoint the emotion, while answering with the barest shake of his head.  He whispered, “I couldn’t believe my mama would ever love anyone besides our pa.  I mean, not while they were married.  I … I wanted to see what else that man wrote, but I couldn’t ask ya, Adam.  I couldn’t ask anyone.”

Gesturing toward the settee, Adam suggested, “Why don’t we sit down.  You need to hear the whole story.”  Placing another log on the fire, he joined his brother on the couch.  “Joe?  I’m going to tell you, because you have a right to the truth, but I have to ask you not to discuss it with anyone else, not even with Pa.  Do I have your word?”

Again, the boy nodded, then waited for Adam to find the right words to start the journey back in time .…

~~~~~~~~

Charles Landers taught history at Harvard University for nearly ten years, before an unfortunate accident crippled him, condemning him to a wheelchair for life.  While his disability shouldn’t have prevented him from teaching, it drove him deep into despair.  A dark cloud of depression finally choked his ability to teach or do anything beyond merely existing.  He left the university, cloistering himself away in his deceased parents’ home.  His brother Randolph, ten years his junior, decided to head West, to California.  He convinced Charles to accompany him, hoping the trip would rekindle the brilliant man’s spirit.  The brothers sold the house and transferred some of their inherited wealth to a bank in California.

When their journey brought them through Nevada territory, Randolph, fascinated by the gold frenzy, decided they should settle in the Virginia City area.  Unwilling to go on alone, Charles agreed to the decision.  The activity, so different from Boston, peaked his curiosity.  He sensed there was something special here.  They had a sprawling ranch house built, set a ways from the growing town.  Charles still desired seclusion, abhorring the stares his disability attracted.

*~*~*

With her two youngest at her side, Marie Cartwright traveled once a week to visit the widowed Sarah Tiller.   Sarah so enjoyed the company, never tiring of Joe’s antics or Hoss’ rendition of the various happenings at the ranch. 

Early one spring Saturday morning, the Cartwright entourage headed toward the Tiller ranch.  Ten-year-old Hoss spotted a spread of wildflowers and called out, ‘Mama, Aunt Sarah would love it, if I brung her some of them.  Please, cain we stop and pick ‘em?’

Marie nodded, pulling the carriage to the side of the road.  Taking Joe’s hand, she wandered, breathing in the fresh scents of spring.  Suddenly, Joe yanked his hand free to point, ‘Look, Mama!’

Gasping, Marie lifted her son and shrieked for Hoss, the frantic edge in her voice bringing the boy at a dead run.  Before them, in a gully, lay Charles Landers, unconscious in his overturned wheelchair. 

‘Hoss, honey, Mama needs you to take the carriage and ride back to the ranch to get Charlie.  Tell him we found a crippled man and he’s likely hurt.  Tell Charlie to bring a wagon and men to help.’  Grabbing their canteen and basket from the carriage, she ordered, ‘Hurry, now.’  Then added, ‘But not too fast.  I don’t want you to have an accident.’

‘Yes’m.  I know not to go too fast.’  The boy leaped into the driver seat and turned the buggy around slowly.

Trying not to worry about her middle boy, Marie directed Joe next, ‘I need you to help Mama, sweetheart, okay?’

Joe nodded, his eyes riveted to the still man in the ditch.  Marie took his hand and the two climbed down to kneel next to Landers.  ‘You stay right at Mama’s side.  Do you understand?’

Again Joe nodded.  He had no interest in straying, fascinated by the chair with wheels.  He watched his mother pull a wash rag from her basket.  She soaked the cloth and dabbed the unconscious man’s forehead.  Over and over she repeated the process, until Landers’ eyelids fluttered.   As his eyes opened, he blinked at the vision before him, whispering, ‘Am I dead?  For surely you are the Lord’s prettiest angel?’

Relieved, Marie smiled and assured him, ‘No, you’re not dead, sir.’  Giggling, she couldn’t help adding, ‘And surely, I’m no angel.  Nor is this little fellow beside me.’

Joe watched curiously, surprisingly silent.

Landers groaned.  ‘I’ve gotten myself in a bad way, haven’t I?  Got too close to the edge of the da... darn ditch.  I wanted to get a better look at a bird I’d spotted.’  Groaning once more, he clarified, ‘I was so intent on its beauty, I was rolling down the embankment, before I could stop myself.’  Absorbing Marie’s glowing cheeks, shining hair and fascinating eyes, Landers smiled weakly, ‘Are you quite certain you’re not an angel?  Your beauty is astounding.’

Marie blushed, as she answered, ‘I assure you, I’m as mortal as you are.’  Watching Landers struggle to move, she placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.  ‘No, lie still.  I’ve sent one of my sons back for help.  Until then, it’s best if you remain where you are.’

*~*~*

Charlie and two men arrived in short order.  Under Marie’s supervision, they lifted the man carefully, placing him on a mattress Charlie wisely put in the back of the buckboard.  Covering him with blankets, they delivered Landers back to Randolph, who had nearly worn out the front porch floorboards.  Doctor Martin arrived in due time and declared that Charles was likely no worse off than before, excepting the bruises he’d racked up, along with a sizeable bump on the back of his head.

A grateful Randolph followed up with a warm letter of appreciation, accompanied by a basket of fruit, cheese, wine and even a bag of hard candy for the ‘little tyke’ who had silently held his mother’s hand through the whole ordeal.  The letter also passed on a request that Marie return the following Saturday, so Charles could properly express his gratitude.

~~~~~~~~

“Mama went and had lunch with him, didn’t she, Adam?”  Joe got up, grabbing the fireplace poker, to begin jabbing at one of the burning logs.  “Did she go by herself?  Of did she take me and Hoss along?” 

“Come back and sit down, buddy.”  Adam waited until Joe obeyed.  “She went alone.  Pa knew she was going.  She thought it wouldn’t be right to take you two boys along.  Wasn’t sure just how much excitement Mr. Landers could tolerate.”

~~~~~~~~

Adam watched Marie exit the yard, then joined Charlie, repairing the fence around the pig pen.  ‘You think she should be going by herself?’

Eyeing the boy, Charlie shrugged, ‘She makes that trip to Mrs. Tiller’s by herself all the time .…’

‘That’s not what I meant.’  Adam frowned and picked up his hammer.

‘Your ma is just allowing the man to extend his thanks, son.  She’s just bein’ polite.’

‘Yeah, we’ll what about him?   Ma said Landers thought she was pretty as an angel.’

‘Adam, that man is in no position to ...   He’s crippled.’   His voice taking on a hard edge, the foreman added, ‘Your ma is a proper lady.  She would set any man straight, right quick, if he was to treat her as anything but.’

Adam nodded, then shoved the fence post into its hole, thereby closing the conversation.

*~*~*

As the weeks passed, Marie continued to visit Charles, with Hoss and Joe accompanying her.  While the boys played in the yard, the adults sat on the porch talking, sharing a pot of tea.  After Charles casually suggested that hearing poetry lifted his spirits, Marie brought her favorite collection and read aloud, unaware of the growing fire in her listener’s eyes.  Charles, in turn, shared his vast knowledge of history, with stories so colorful, even the two boys stopped to listen.

Marie began to bring Sarah along on her visits, harboring the romantic notion that the two might find a spark between them.   

*~*~*

Adam emerged from the school building later than usual one afternoon, having lingered to discuss his proposed end-of-term essay with his teacher.  He’d sent Hoss on ahead and was surprised to discover several horses at the hitching post when he finally exited.  Catching a whiff of cigarette smoke, he turned in expectation, to find Harold Saunders and his two sidekicks wearing matching sneers as the roosted on the fence.  This trio rubbed him the wrong way, but his father’s teachings demanded he exhibit the same courtesy to them as he would a stranger on the street.  He managed a simple nod, before continuing toward his horse. 

Saunders smirked in return, then slid silently off the fence, his two companions echoing the move.  In exaggerated voice, Harold revealed to Peter Enders, ‘I heard she was a whore, back in New Orleans.’

The words pressed like a blade, nicking the strings on Adam’s self control.  Still, he kept walking, recalling last week’s lecture and stern promise from his father.  No more fights at school or Adam would find sitting ‘most uncomfortable’.

Enders winked and continued the barbs,  ‘Yeah, my pa says Ben Cartwright must a had three different whores, at least.  Cause his three bastards got three different faces on ‘em.  He says Cartwright likes ta think he’s better than us, but he’s ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog, humpin’ a bunch a .…’

Adam launched toward the group, the heat of his anger powering his fists.  He lay Peter out in two punches, only to spin at the sound of Harold’s laughter.  ‘I heard tell yer daddy forbids fightin’, Cartwright!  Aw, but then, the truth hurts, don’t it, boy!’

Dan Travers, helped Peter back on his feet, then sneered, ‘Time to put this babe to bed, fellas.  He ain’t gonna admit his daddy’s current plaything ain’t no better than some old alley cat, puttin’ out for any tom howlin’ her way.’

Disgust lacing his anger, Adam lunged at Dan.  Harold and Peter seized him, laughing as their cohort pummeled him.  The pounding feet of Adam’s schoolmates forced the trio to drop their battered toy.  Swimming in pain, Adam closed his eyes as his attackers’ snide comments filtered back, spiced with uproarious laughter.

*~*~*

Pressing his handkerchief to his split lip once more, Adam pulled it away and groaned.  ‘Pa will be furious.’  He laughed, then groaned, before concluding, ‘How much worse can a licking actually make me feel?’  He groaned again, as he dismounted onto wobbling legs, then led Sport into the barn.

Entering the house through the kitchen, he caught the expression on Hop Sing’s face.  He knew he looked horrid, but the cook’s eyes reflected more than just concern for his injuries.  Adam just shook his head, mumbling to the floor,  ‘It couldn’t be helped.’

Ben’s booming voice echoed from the doorway, ‘It couldn’t be helped!  Have you forgotten the discussion we had last week, young man?’

Marie stood behind him, surveying the boy’s injuries.  ‘Ben, he needs doctoring.  Surely lectures can wait.’  She turned then, to stop Hoss and Joe from pressing through the doorway.  ‘Hoss, you take Joe outside, please and tend to feeding the animals.’  Her voice grew firmer, ‘Do as I say, young man.’

Ben, heeding his wife’s advice, took the bowl of hot water from Hop Sing’s hands.  The cook turned on his heel then, mumbling about harvesting some herbs, but not before depositing the bottles of liniment on the counter beside the pump.

As he gently washed his son’s face, Ben probed for answers.  ‘How many were there?’

Adam studied the floor.   ‘Three.’

‘THREE!  Against just you?’

Nodding, Adam continued to stare at his feet.

Ben carefully raised his son’s chin, after searching with difficulty for a spot not bruised.  ‘It must have been a mighty important cause, for you to fight against such odds.’  Seeing a flicker of pride in his son’s eyes, he urged, ‘I’d like to know what it was.’  Grimacing as he discovered still another oozing wound under several locks of hair, Ben pressed his lips together.  ‘Oh, son.’  Sighing, he continued to bathe the battered face in his tender grasp.  Spotting bruising on his son’s neck, he automatically began to unbutton the boy’s shirt.

Eyes darting briefly at Marie, Adam placed his hands over his father’s, halting them. 

Realizing the lad’s embarrassment,  Marie simply left the room.  She knew her husband’s anger had cooled, replaced by concern for his son’s well-being.  Whatever information Ben squeezed out of the lad while tending to him, he’d share with her later in private.

Removing Adam’s torn shirt, Ben inhaled sharply at the multitude of purpling patches.  Gingerly touching his ribs, he released a relieved breath, noting nothing appeared broken.  He worked quietly for several moments, spreading the liniment Hop Sing had retrieved for him.  When his ministrations were complete, he looked once again into his son’s eyes.  ‘What was so important, Adam?  I’d like an answer now.’

‘A lady’s honor.’  Adam held his head up.  Though sorry he’d angered his father, he wasn’t ashamed of protecting the family reputation.  Holding his breath, he awaited Ben’s response.

‘Just what exactly does that mean?’  came a quiet but insistent demand.

‘Please, Pa.  I ... I don’t want to betray the lady.’ 

‘I’m not asking you to betray anyone.’

‘They were spreading lies.  Parroting their parents.   People are so damned smug!’

‘That’ll be enough of that, young man.’

‘Yes, sir.’  His eyes filled with fire now, recalling the hateful tones and the filthy words, Adam clenched his fists.  ‘I’m sorry I broke your rule, Pa, but I’m not sorry for trying to make them eat their ugly words.  Why do people turn someone’s kindness into something ugly and dirty?’

Ben raised an eyebrow and then smiled softly.  ‘Because not everyone has your open mind.’  He couldn’t resist running his hand down the back of the boy’s head.  ‘Whoever the lady is, she must be very impressed to have you stick up for her.’

Whispered words revealed, ‘No, the lady doesn’t know anything about it.’  He closed his eyes against the throbbing building behind them.

‘Let’s get you upstairs.  You’d best lie down for a bit.’  Seeing protest on his son’s lips, Ben insisted, ‘I’ll have no arguments from you, young man.’

‘Yes, Pa.’

Drawing fresh cold water in a pitcher, Ben shepherded his son up to his room.  Locating  a nightshirt, he slipped it over the boy’s head, at which point Adam protested mildly, ‘I can dress myself, Pa.  You don’t have to baby me.’

Raising an eyebrow, his father replied, ‘It’s hard not to baby you, given the sight of you, but you finish undressing and get yourself into bed.  I’ll fix a compress for your head.’

Adam nodded, swaying a bit, as he bent to remove his boots.  Shaking his head, Ben sat the boy down, then knelt to pull off his boots.  Adam slid out of his trousers and gratefully crawled under his quilt.

Placing a cool cloth on his son’s head, Ben turned to leave, surprised to find his wrist trapped.  ‘Pa?  Stay a minute.  I... I want to ask you something.’

Sitting on the edge to the bed, Ben fussed with the comforter, pulling it up around his son’s neck.  ‘I’m listening.’

Adam barely whispered, ‘Did you ever have to fight for my ma’s honor?’

One eyebrow lifting, Ben cocked his head, ‘Son?’

‘I mean, did anyone ever say anything bad about her, making you angry and well, wanting to ... to just tear them apart?’

‘Your mother was a very respected and loved person, son.  I don’t recall anyone ever saying an unkind word.  But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t react under those circumstances.’  Watching his son’s eyelids droop, Ben reached out to softly touch his cheek.  ‘You rest now..’ 

*~*~*

The clomping of horse hooves punctuated the long silence and Sarah Tiller finally turned to stare at her companion.  ‘Penny for your thoughts?’

Shaking herself, Marie stammered, ‘Oh, Sarah, please forgive me.  How rude I’ve been.  I have a few things on my mind.’

‘Oh?’  Concern rising in her soft brown eyes, Sarah searched the soulful green ones gazing back at her, all too afraid she knew what battle waged behind them. 

‘Adam got into a fight yesterday over “the honor of a lady”.  He took a terrible beating.  He’s so tight-lipped about things.  It’s such a trial, worming things out of him.  His father couldn’t get him to reveal who the girl was.  I just can’t help wondering over her identity and just what was being said of her.  Young people can be so cruel.’  She scoffed, ‘And their adult counterparts can be equally so.’

Though hesitant to butt into this young woman’s business, Sarah inched ahead, hoping their friendship could withstand her interference.   They were alone today, as the little boys had gone fishing with their father.   ‘I must say, it’s a rare day that Ben takes time off work, isn’t it?’

Marie’s laughter sprinkled the air.  ‘That’s because I fairly threatened him, then threw in a measure of guilt, pointing out that his boys will turn into grown men, behind his back, before he knows what hit him.  He’s heading off on another business trip soon.  I insisted he take time out for Joe and Hoss today.  Little boys need to spend time alone with their father.’

‘And Adam?’

‘Oh, he and his father work side-by-side quite a bit, when Adam isn’t attending to his school work.  They … well, they share something very special.’

‘Does it … bother you that Ben is so busy?  I mean … well … maybe you should insist he take time out for you, too?’

Green eyes clouded beneath a knitted brow.  ‘Sarah, Ben gives me plenty of attention, I assure you.  If anything, it is he who is neglected.   Our little whirlwind tends to draw center stage, from the time he gets up, to the time he’s tucked in at night.  Ben has said, on more than one occasion, that my baby has stolen my heart away from him.’  Laughing, she admitted, ‘But his father adores him.  How could anyone not?’

Relief briefly relaxed the lines in Sarah’s face, but seconds later, the wrinkles resurfaced.  Marie pressed, ‘What is it, Sarah?  What aren’t you saying?’

‘Could we stop a minute?’  Marie drew the carriage to a standstill and watched her friend struggle for courage and words.  ‘It’s a relief to hear you say that everything between you and Ben is all right.  I … You’re a very beautiful woman, Marie …’   She squeezed the younger woman’s arm.  ‘Your beauty shows from inside and as well as out, but … I’m afraid you are a bit blind ….’ 

Her patience sliding away, the younger woman demanded, ‘Speak plain, Sarah.  What is this all about?’

‘Charles Landers has fallen in love with you.’

Mouth dropping open, green eyes glued to her companion’s, the young woman shook her head.  ‘No, that can’t be.  I’ve never done anything to …  And I’ve never come calling without you or the boys, except that first time …  There’s no reason for him to … Sarah, I love my husband, with every ounce of my being.  My eyes would never show love for another man, because it doesn’t exist.’

Nodding at the fierce declaration, Sarah again patted her friend’s arm.  ‘A person in love sees what they want to see, my dear.’

Marie shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping.  ‘All these weeks I’ve been bringing you along, hoping you and Charles would find each other.  I had no idea … no idea ….’

*~*~*

Marie cut the visit to Charles short that day, feigning a headache.  She berated herself, during most of the ride home from Sarah’s, but by the time she reached the Ponderosa, her thoughts turned toward remedying the mess she’d inadvertently created.  Relieved that Ben and the little boys hadn’t returned yet, she tackled her pile of mending, only to find herself growing angry, first at herself, but ultimately at Charles. 

A sudden presence in the room startled her and she jumped, jabbing herself deeply with her needle.  ‘Oh!’  Strong young hands quickly wrapped the bloody finger in a clean handkerchief.  Grateful green eyes looked up to meet pensive hazel.

‘Adam, I’d forgotten you were home.  You … you surprised me.’

Pushing himself off his knees, the young man stood, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.  ‘I’m sorry.  I didn’t expect anyone home so soon.  I came down to investigate.’

She surveyed her son’s bruises and winced.  ‘Did I get you up from a nap?  You … you should be resting.’

‘No, ma’am.  I know I promised Pa I would and I tried, really, but I haven’t been movin’ around all that much, at least.  I’ve been working on a paper for school.’  He couldn’t help but notice Marie was only half listening.  He pried, ‘So, how come you’re home so early?’

‘What?  Oh … Uh … Sarah had a headache, so we cut our visit at the Landers’ short.’

‘Oh.’  Adam moved away a bit too abruptly, to stack kindling in the fireplace.

Marie studied the boy’s back, noting his stiff posture.  He’s angry.  Perplexed she watched as he tossed, rather than stacked the wood.  What set him off?  All I did was answer his question about leaving Charles’ place …  A chill crept up her back as she suddenly recalled the conversation she’d eavesdropped on yesterday, when she’d left Ben to tend his son: 

Why do people turn someone’s kindness into something ugly and dirty?’

‘What was so important, Adam?  I’d like an answer now.’

‘A lady’s honor.’

Her realization came forth an awed whisper, ‘I’m the lady …’  Bewildered, humbled, entranced, she repeated, ‘I’m the lady … the lady whose honor you were defending ….’

Feeling the heat on his cheeks, Adam kept his back to her and carefully lit the haphazard pile of wood, his answer barely audible, ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Marie’s temper soared, knowing just what Adam must have had to fight against:  filthy thoughts, dirty words.   She blinked at the sudden moisture in her eyes.   She knew just how much this boy loved his father.  No love on the earth compared to it.  No devotion could touch it.  Did he feel that strongly about her as well? 

She started, as Adam elaborated with fierce conviction, ‘They had no right to turn what you were doing into something so ugly.’

Desperately wanting this young man to understand her position, she explained, ‘Adam, I had no idea … until today … that what I was doing was ….’

‘I know that.’  Adam faced her, ‘You … you were so busy bein’ a Cartwright, you forgot how beautiful …’  He turned away abruptly, chewing his lip, faltering, ‘That is … you … you forgot what a woman’s beauty can do to a man.’

Tears filling her eyes once more, Marie rose and carefully went to her young knight.  With a light touch to his shoulder, she offered, ‘Thank you … for … for standing up for me, son.’

The front door flew open and Little Joe burst in holding several fish on a string.  ‘Mama, look!  I gots us supper!’ 

As the young fisherman stampeded toward her, Marie quickly met him, forestalling sure disaster.  ‘Young man, you take those fish to the kitchen this instant.’ 

Ben followed quickly, apologizing, ‘I’m sorry, dear, he got away before I could tell him to use the kitchen ….’  His focus shifted to Adam attempting to sneak up the stairs unnoticed.  ‘Young man?  You were supposed to be taking it easy today.’

Marie quickly intervened, ‘He was, dear, but he came down to warm up the room for me.  You should be proud that you’ve raised such a young gentleman.’

Though suspecting something was afoot, Ben elected to let it pass and gently corrected, ‘We raised, my love.’

Adam watched his parents embrace suddenly, a warm, passionate embrace.  He headed up the stairs, his brow creased in thought.

~~~~~~~~

Joe stared into his older brother’s clouded eyes.  “My ma went back there, didn’t she, Adam?  She loved my pa and she knew bein’ there made people talk.  How come she went back then?”

It was Adam’s turn to fidget with the fire.  He added a log, then drew in a breath, watching the flames flick and grow.  He sighed and returned to his brother’s side.

“She didn’t want Charles Landers to fall into despair, to go to waste.  Joe, you have to understand, he was a brilliant man.  Before his accident he gave so much, to so many.  And he was proud of his contribution … proud of his abilities.’

‘You see, his brother Randolph had explained to your ma about Charles’ mental state before they came West.  He told her how useless Charles felt, after his injury.  Randolph also mentioned just how much her visits meant to Charles … To share intelligent conversation with someone who didn’t pity him his disability.  To have a willing audience, truly captivated by his vast knowledge on history.  Of course, he left out the part about his brother being in love with your ma.”  Adam shrugged.  “Randolph cared for his brother very much.  Looking back on it, I can’t really fault him on turning a blind eye.”

“So what finally happened?”

His eyes traced over his younger brother’s features.  So much of Marie there.  Her impatience, her persistence, her passion ….

Adam concluded the story ….

~~~~~~~~

The following Saturday, Marie took the little boys with her, determined to find a way to continue her visits, despite her knowledge of Charles’ feelings.  For one thing, she intended to insert more remarks about her husband and her dedication to him and their children.  She hoped to subtly make Charles realize that his attraction was one-sided and somehow manage to instill in him the desire to start teaching again.

Adam watched them leave and considered a conversation he’d had with Marie earlier in the week.  They’d taken a ride together, much to his father’s delight.   She explained her plans, playing on Adam’s admiration for intellect as she did so.  Adam had met Landers only once, but he’d been impressed by his amazing grasp of history and his ability to share it.  He’d admitted as much, to both Marie and Ben, that evening at dinner.  Marie reminded him of that encounter, insisting there had to be a way to convince Charles to share his mind with the world … or at the very least, share it with students again.

The young man shook his head.  For once, he was glad his father had gone off to San Francisco.  It would be impossible to hide the tension building over this issue.  Somehow, Adam had to find a way to intervene.  Marie’s presence at the Landers’ house was helping no one.

On instinct, he saddled Sport and followed the carriage at a discreet distance.  Leaving his horse in a secluded spot, he approached the Landers’ residence and situated himself in dense shrubbery, that presented a good view of the front porch.  The scene that unfolded before him indeed backed up Marie’s firm belief in Charles’ ability to teach … no, to ignite, the desire in his students to learn.

He watched from his vantage point, open-mouthed, as his brother Hoss sat mesmerized by the history lesson.  Twice the youngster politely interrupted, for clarification on details, then pressed for more of the ‘story’.

Landers’ eyes sparked with satisfaction, seeing the boy’s interest.  But even at a distance, Adam could see a hotter spark, when Charles focused on Marie.  To her credit, Marie caught the look as well.  As planned, she spoke of Ben, her eyes full of warmth as she itemized all his recent triumphs toward building up their ranch.  Hoss happily pitched in his two cents, but in doing so, revealed how frequently it meant his father was away, to include his current absence.

Adam breathed out a curse, watching the passion rise once more in Landers’ eyes.  He’ll never get it, Ma.  He’s as blind as he is lame.  Someone needs to get through to him, but you’re more a hindrance than a help.

Almost as if his thoughts had reached her, Marie stood, with resignation in her eyes and defeat in her drooping shoulders.  Adam watched as she wheeled Landers into the house, leaving Hoss and Joe behind.  Nearly a half hour passed before Marie reappeared, her expression one of sadness and failure.  She gathered her sons and their belongings and left the yard. 

Adam watched the house for nearly another half hour.  The front curtain finally parted and a bereaved Charles stared out, as if someone had just locked the doors to his jail cell.  Thirty minutes later, Landers still wore the bleak, almost blank expression, then let the curtain drop.  With a decided nod, Adam rose, mustered his resolve and strode with determination toward the house.

Charles opened the door on the second knock, his face falling when his eyes met hazel, instead of green.  He shook his head absently and began to close the door, as if there were no one on the other side.  Adam slipped his foot in the entranceway, grabbing Landers’ attention once more when the door met resistance.

‘Go away.’

‘No sir.  I came here with a message and I intend to deliver it.’

‘A message?’  Again, Landers’ spirits perked, his heart pounded harder, believing his angel had realized her mistake.

His eyes hardening to his task, the young man announced, ‘The message is not from her.  If I read her right, she has already made her feelings clear.  Unfortunately, you have chosen not to believe her.’

‘Why you ….’  Charles spun his chair and rolled away.

Adam’s voice matched his eyes, unrelenting and cold, ‘How can you sit there, rotting in that chair, wasting your talent!’

Eyes afire, the cripple spun, spouting, ‘You young whippersnapper!  How dare you speak to me in such a manner.  Why, if I could get up and walk, I’d beat you black and blue.’

Adam backed up, on instinct, but replied in a steady voice, ‘Well, sir, that’s a point in my favor, I guess.’  He adjusted his tone, to make it more suitable to a young man speaking to his elder.  ‘Truly, I meant no disrespect and I know I’m out of line, for what I am about to say … but I’m going to say it, just the same.’ 

Landers continued to seethe silently, but he listened.  ‘My mother doesn’t love you; she loves my father.  You refuse to believe it, even though, I suspect now, she’s told you.  A blind man could see it, Mr. Landers.  If you were to observe her standing beside my father, you’d see it too.  No two people ever loved each other more ….’

Watching the confined man push away the truth, Adam snapped, ‘You sit in that chair by the window, for hours on end, and wait for her to ride up in her carriage.  I’ve watched you, from across the way.  I know it’s the truth.’

‘How dare you spy upon me … ‘

‘There is no excuse for my behavior, Mr. Landers, but there were things I had to know.   And what I learned today, forced me to come speak to you.  I’ve watched you recite history, enchanting my mother and Mrs. Tiller, but today I saw a miracle occur.  You entranced my brother Hoss with your lecture.  His face lit up and he asked you questions.  I saw your reaction.  You were pleased.  You don’t know what a feat you accomplished.  What’s more, I don’t think you realize that this gift you have could be given to many more children, everywhere, if you would commit your stories to the written page.  You’d be doing children everywhere such a service.’

Landers gazed back questioning.

‘History texts that draw a boy like my brother into them would be such a contribution.  Don’t you see you have a talent?’

When Landers stared off in bleak despair, Adam pressed his lips together as his eyes hardened once more.  ‘Fine, you sit there and wallow.  Take the coward’s path.  You’ll be cheating a lot of kids in the process.’  Jamming his hat on his head, the young man pierced the older with his gaze, ‘You’re cheating yourself too.’  Spinning on his heel, Adam marched out the door, slamming it behind him.

~~~~~~~~

Joe sat in awe of his older brother’s audacity.  A smirk came to his lips as he commented, “Well, you’re still alive, so I guess Pa never heard about that conversation.”

Adam chuckled, “No, Ma neither, at least not in a way that would incriminate me.”  Squeezing his brother’s shoulder, he admitted, “Believe me, I wondered afterwards just how smart a move it was.”

“But it paid off, didn’t it, Adam?”  The boy reached around his brother for the familiar text that had opened this whole chapter in Cartwright history:  History’s Triumphs and Tragedies, by Charles H. Landers. 

“He really did it, huh, like you told him to?”  His eyes filled with admiration now, Joe waited.

Adam nodded, feeling the same combination of pride and sadness he’d experienced the day this book arrived.  For it came three months after Marie’s death.  He was sorry she didn’t get to see it.  At least she’d been aware of the intent.  

Opening the book, Adam extracted the letter and handed it to his brother.

My darling Marie,

Yesterday will live in my memory, my very soul, as a treasure, always.  The magical music of your warm laughter, the playful sparkle in your dancing emerald eyes, the delicious fragrance of wildflowers following your soft footsteps about the room.  How you lifted my spirits!  Oh, how they soared!  For I knew, at last, I’d reached your spirited heart. 

My own heart sang out,  ‘At last, you have set the fire of love burning in this divine creature.’   Your words of love and devotion for your husband and sons seemed but a foggy memory.  When your delicate hand squeezed mine and you pressed it to your sweet lips, I felt like a silly schoolboy, trembling at the first touch of a lass he fancied from across the room.  Oh, my dear Marie.

But then you let those fateful words escape your lips and the warm spot on my hand grew cold.  My body went numb, to the very core, when you met my eyes with a firmness that frightened me.  And when at last you closed the door behind you, I wondered if I could manage to live another moment.

A knock at the door, but an hour later, woke me from my daze, my stupor.  Your young knight entered, with fire in his eyes, his love for you so fierce.  He is an astounding lad, Marie.  You and your husband have every right to be filled with pride.  He is wise beyond his years and in his wisdom, he woke in me a desire … a desire to live again.  Not in the dreamy world of a love sick pup.  No, he made me see that my dead legs are not the death of me.  I have much to contribute.  There is a way for me to leave my mark behind.

With this note, I am saying goodbye, for I could not bear to look upon you again.  My brother and I will be moving on to our original destination, California.  From there I will begin to fulfill my destiny, writing for the young, sharing with them my first love, history. 

Be proud of your boy, Marie, and thank him for me. 

May you be forever happy.

                                                                        Yours in friendship,

                                                                        Charles 

A peace fell over the youngster’s face as he folded the letter and returned it to its envelop.  After a moment though, confusion took over his features and he voiced his question, “Adam, why does this gotta be kept a secret from Pa?  Mama didn’t do wrong, so why would she be ashamed for him ta know?”

The older brother winced slightly.  How to tell the truth?  He cleared his throat and glanced toward the second floor, his voice still quiet, but taking on a conspiratorial quality.  “Well, I … I sort of made a bargain with your ma.  That is ….”

~~~~~~~~

Marie stepped out on the front porch, her eyes landing on the object of her search.  Adam leaned against the corral fence.  He’d delivered the letter to her.  He wondered just what Charles Landers might have revealed of their encounter.  Hearing the familiar footsteps draw closer, then stop, he turned to bravely face whatever mood awaited him.  Tears were the last thing he expected.

She handed him the letter, composing herself while he read it through.  When he bravely faced her once more, she placed a kiss on his cheek.  ‘Thank you.  Thank you for doing what I couldn’t do.’

Adam managed a nod, embarrassed by the recognition and relieved that no one would know just how he accomplished the feat.  He noticed discomfort as he met Marie’s eyes.  ‘What is it?’

‘Well … I’d like to ask a favor … A big favor.’

‘What is it?  Ma?  What’s the matter?’

Clearing her throat several times, Marie asked quietly, ‘Adam, I’d prefer you not mention any of this to your father.’  Catching confusion in the boy’s eyes, she hastily clarified, ‘It’s not that I’m ashamed of anything.  It’s just, well, I’m a little embarrassed, I guess.’  Sheepishly, she admitted, ‘I’m a lot embarrassed.’

Rubbing his hands together, Adam considered the possibilities opening up here.  As he glanced up, his mischievous eyes met a look that reminded him so much of his father’s sternest expression that he found himself gulping in spite of himself.  He couldn’t speak quickly enough, ‘Yes’m, I promise.’

~~~~~~~~

Joe’s giggle erupted without warning and Adam clapped a hand over the boy’s mouth, before glancing up the stairs.  He frowned briefly, at the odd shadow there, but dismissed it, turning back to glare at his brother.

The boy whispered, “Sorry, Adam.  Aw, I sure would have liked to have been a fly on the wall for that.”

Adam shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips.  She sure could nail me to the wall, with some of those looks of hers.  He tugged on his ear as he admitted, “Yes, well, your ma did have a certain persuasive quality about her.  She and Pa made a quite a team.”

Flipping the envelop in his fingers, Joe met his brother’s now questioning eyes.  “Maybe … maybe we should get rid of this letter, Adam.  Do you think?”  At his sibling’s concurring nod, the youngster stood and flipped it into the leaping flames.

As the page blackened and curled, the shadow at the top of the stairs vanished and a fly on the wall up there would have heard the whispered words, “Thank you, son.”