The Earth Will Hold Us
Part One: Et In Arcadia Ego

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“Oh Ben! I’m so glad you’re home!”

As Marie flung herself into his arms, Ben felt absurdly gratified. How many men came to such a beautiful young wife who greeted them with such a rapturous welcome? Stealing a surreptitious glance at the clock, he realised there were at least two hours before his older sons arrived home from school and a smile of anticipation crept across his face. Ben’s eyes sparkled with a deep joy as he enveloped her within his arms and dipped his head down to bestow a tender kiss upon her delicately fragranced neck, glorying in the unexpected delight of being completely alone.

Marie sighed happily and curved her body in towards his. She stood on tiptoe and entwined her fingers around his neck, smiling beguiling upwards. At that precise moment, Ben reflected, she could ask for the sun, the moon and all the stars and he would rush outside to gather them and then weave them into a necklace to drape adoringly around her neck. Nothing, absolutely nothing in the entire world was too good for his darling Marie. He would move oceans, just to please her, just for the possibility of seeing a smile upon her lips.

“Ben?” The whisper of her breath sent shivers up and down his spine, as he began to plan various delightful pleasures, those seldom afforded to a young couple who rarely had the pleasures of an almost-empty house at their disposal in the middle of the afternoon. Ben tightened his grip around Marie’s waist and he angled his head slightly until his lips touched hers.

“Mmmm?” he murmured happily, savouring the scent of lily of the valley that floated tantalisingly from the curls clustering at the nape of her neck. The heady aroma made his senses swim with delight. Moving with a volition entirely of their own, Ben’s hands eased upwards to caress the curve of her breasts.

A sigh of delight greeted his touch. Frantically striving to keep her emotions under control, Marie forced her mind to concentrate and she struggled to enunciate the words that had to be spoken.

“I have to go away.”

Ben jumped backwards, an expression of shocked bemusement on his face. “WHAT?” he demanded indignantly.

Marie winced slightly at the volume. “Only for a few days,” she offered in mitigation. Ben did not look noticeably appeased and she tried to mollify him, explaining that her beloved Tante Polette would be visiting San Francisco for a few days. “And it has been oh! so very long since we last met. It would mean so much to me.” She took hold of his hand and gazed upwards; secure in the knowledge that Ben would find this particular mixture of adoration and supplication hard to refuse.

Fighting a desperate rear-guard action, Ben struggled to find a reason to tell why Marie such a trip should not be undertaken, why it was both impracticable and impossible. The truth was, he hated the mere idea of climbing into an empty bed at night, of returning home and not receiving the bewitching smile and warm embrace that made the long hours and hard labour worthwhile. Marie so seldom asked for anything for herself, he thought, and Tante Polette was her favourite aunt, after all.

But how will I cope without her?

“What about the boys?” he asked.

Marie smiled brightly. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly take a tiny baby all that way for just a few days!” she said, in a tone of eminent reasonability. Her assurance did not greatly console Ben, who remembered all too well the amount of work involved in looking after a small child. “Besides,” Marie continued blithely, “Routine is so important to a baby. It will be much better for everyone concerned if Little Joe stays safely at home with his father and brothers.”

It was not often that Ben Cartwright was rendered speechless, but he was still struggling for words when an unmistakable squall announced that the topic of conversation was awake and demanding urgent attention. Disentangling herself from her husband’s slightly frenetic embrace, Marie hurried upstairs, leaving Ben to sink into his armchair and regard the floor with an increasing sense of disbelief. It was not that Marie was especially forceful or particularly stubborn – well, no more so than most women! It was just that she somehow managed to turn a situation to her own advantage. And the galling thing was that she did it with such charm…. Ben steeled his soul, determined to have one last attempt, while tacitly acknowledging the battle had been fought and won before he even put one foot inside the door.

He scarcely had time to marshall his rumpled thoughts before there was a familiar step on the staircase, answered by a slight creak of the steps and Marie appeared, cradling the youngest member of the family in her arms. Still half-asleep, Joe was making little, fussy noises, as when his mother sat down and began to soothe him.

Ben gave her a reproachful look. “How can you possibly go away, when Joseph still needs you?”

It was difficult to imagine that a look of such dark disdain could shoot forth from Marie’s green eyes. “As you know very well, Joseph has been taking a bottle for weeks now. Or had you forgotten?” Chagrined, Ben sat back in his chair. Was it his imagination, or was Little Joe glaring back at him with equal intensity, from eyes the colour of peridots?

At first, Marie had fed her baby, but it soon became apparent that she could not keep the child satisfied. Joe seemed to be constantly hungry and made his discomfort known to the whole household with considerable verve and vibrato for one so young. Despite Paul Martin’s assurances that this was a common problem among mothers and that supplementary feeds from a bottle would solve the problem immediately, Marie felt inadequate. The situation was not improved when Ben reminded her that Adam had been bottle-fed and thrived on it. As Adam’s mother had expired in childbirth, this was not the most tactful of remarks, nor did it greatly console his tearful wife, who regarded her screaming child with mournful resignation, before despatching Ben into town to purchase the necessary equipment. Given the increasing volume of his son’s screams, Ben was grateful to escape, and then felt a twinge of guilt as he thought of Marie pacing up and down the room, trying to pacify her fractious child.

The initial attempts at bottle-feeding were not an unqualified success. First, Joe resolutely spat out the teat of the bottle every time it was offered to him and then, when he finally deigned to accept it, he refused to suckle. Ben marvelled at the obstinacy of his son, even as he silently cursed his wilfulness, but eventually, hunger won out and Joe reluctantly drank the contents of the bottle. And then promptly regurgitated the contents, clear across the living room. It was an impressive, if unwelcome and disturbing spectacle.

“Wow!” Even worldly-wise Adam was impressed at both the trajectory and sheer distance his baby brother could achieve. “You wouldn’t think such a little drop of milk could go so far, would you?” He stared at the milk-spattered wall in evident awe.

Not quite sharing his son’s enthusiasm, Ben occupied himself in collecting a bucket of hot, soapy water and some cloths. While he endeavoured to scrub the wall clean, Marie paced up and down, rubbing Joe’s small, heaving back as he sobbed out his misery and hunger against her shoulder.

“Funny how something so small can make so much noise and mess, isn’t it?” Adam continued conversationally. Marie glared at him and reflected how fortunate it was that both her hands were fully occupied. She wondered how long it took for a baby to starve to death and then had to stifle her sobs. Her agitation conveyed itself to Joe, who began to howl with increased vigour.

“I don’t think Little Joe likes that milk,” Hoss said slowly.

“Really?” Ben replied gravely, swabbing down the wall. It would definitely require a fresh coat of whitewash to cover the stains, he thought. Marie clutched Joe tightly and he yelped in protest. Looking at his wife, Ben saw that she could no longer hold back the tears and beckoned her over to his side.

“Everything will be fine,” he reassured her. “Joseph will be alright. Don’t worry about a thing.” He stroked the baby’s downy golden curls in supplication, praying that he was right. “Adam, ride over to the Richard’s and ask if we can borrow their nanny-goat. Tell them your little brother has decided to be awkward and develop an aversion to cows milk, so we want to see if goat’s milk sits any easier on his tummy.” He eased the child into his arms and flashed Marie what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ve heard people say it’s easier to digest, so we’ll see how he likes it, shall we?”

Anxious not to be left out of the discussion, Hoss tugged at his elbow. “He sure can puke though, can’t he, Pa?” he asked proudly

At last this new brother was able to do something useful and entertaining. Initially intrigued by the novelty of having a baby in the house, Hoss had rapidly discovered that tiny infants are extremely demanding, while simultaneously offering little in the way of entertainment for their energetic older brothers. When Joe’s eyes started to change inexorably from blue to green, Hoss could barely restrain his disappointment. Once again, he was the only person with blue eyes in the family: Mama and Little Joe had green eyes, while Pa and Adam had brown eyes. This did not strike Hoss as fair and it certainly did not endear him towards his baby brother. However, this new trick of regurgitating the contents of his bottle with force was certainly impressive and Hoss began to wonder if Joe might produce further novel forms of entertainment.

Ben pondered the situation. Perhaps it would be safer to feed Joe outside on the porch in future, where any future demonstrations would have less disastrous effects, should he just invest in a large supply of whitewash? Looking at the frantic expression on Marie's face, he decided the latter option was the safer bet.

Oh well, he thought philosophically, a bit of light painting won’t do Adam any harm!

Ben handed Marie the feeding bottle and watched as Joe's eyes lit up eagerly at the sight of it, his small hands reaching upwards to grab onto it. Silence, punctuated only by the sonorous ticking of the grandfather clock and the eager sucking noises coming from the baby, descended for a few blissful moments.

"Can I go then?" Her voice was low and pleading, with a certain husky undertone that thrilled Ben. He could almost swear that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. How could this woman possess so much power to unman him?

Because I gave you my heart and soul the moment I first saw her, he thought. And now I belong to you, forevermore.

Ben looked at Marie, intently gazing at her baby, absorbed in his needs and thought that the purity of her profile had no equal in the world.

Had I truly known love, before I met you? Ben wondered. He had been in love, of course he had, and both Adam and Hoss were the living embodiment of that, but both of these relationships had been fleeting and transitory, cruelly foreshortened, with no time to develop the deep bonds that had grown between him and Marie. Ben cherished the memories of both Elizabeth and Inger, but he knew that they paled into insignificance when compared to the passion and resonance of his love for Marie. He had not begun to comprehend what true love was before Marie came into his life. She was his entire reason for existing.

Her voice broke into his thoughts. Ben snapped his jaw shut suddenly aware he was gazing at his beautiful wife with open-mouthed admiration, a stance that was less than conducive to advancing his position.

Marie struggled to keep a sombre face, knowing she would be travelling to San Francisco very soon. “Surely you could look after Little Joe for a few days? After all, you're always telling me how involved you were with Adam and Hoss when they were babies, but you hardly seem to spend any time at all with Little Joe. Don’t you want to be with him?"

And don’t you realise how much I could do with a break sometimes? Just a few moments to draw breath?

"Things have been very busy," Ben protested weakly. She did have a point, he admitted. When Adam and Hoss were babies, he had spent nearly every waking hour with them, but this time around it had been different. The fact they were not living in a covered wagon, but in a comfortable house, plus the sheer amount and volume of work that had to be done on a ranch the size of the Ponderosa meant that he tended to only see this new son in the mornings and evenings. Still, Marie was right. He should spend more time getting to know Little Joe. The halcyon days of babyhood lasted for such a brief time and he realised that he did not want to miss out on this precious time.

“You go,” he announced. “You go and have a wonderful time. And I’ll look after the boys. We’ll all be perfectly fine. As you say, I’ve looked after babies before! There’s no need for you to worry about us at all.”

Marie said nothing more, but she suspected that the sight of a helpless (and handsome) young widower, with a young child had melted more than one heart on the trail and attracted many offers of help. Certainly, the first time Ben had attempted to change Joe's diaper, it had been an unmitigated disaster, with both parties emerging red-faced, bad-tempered and definitely disgruntled. It would do father and son good to spend some time alone together, she thought. And it would certainly remind Ben of just how demanding a small baby could be. Marie began to look forward to her trip with renewed vigour.

“You’re going to San Francisco?” Adam looked stunned at the announcement and Hoss choked back an anguished sob, giving his stepmother a heart-broken look of reproach.

“Just for a short visit,” Marie soothed, and patted Hoss gently on the hand. “I won’t be gone for more that ten days.”

This seemed like an eternity to Hoss, but he nodded bravely. He adored Marie and had done from the moment he met her, trotting in her wake like a faithful dog. And although he knew why she had to spend so much time with Little Joe, it did not make it any easier for Hoss to accept.

She can’t love him that much if she’ll leave him with Pa! Hoss reasoned. He knew his father was good at ranching, but tending to a demanding baby like Little Joe?

Adam was still mulling things over. “Who’s going to look after Little Joe?” he asked.

“I am!” Ben said, in a matter of fact voice and was disconcerted to see a look of horror flit across Adam’s face. “I think I’m capable of looking after my own son, don’t you?” he enquired, shaking his head in disbelief.

Sometimes I wonder how Adam thinks the world managed to exist before he was born, he thought grimly. I might have to remind him exactly who changed his dirty diapers! Or does he think that happened by magic?

Adam nodded. “Yes sir,” he replied meekly. He felt a stab of pity for his baby brother, who was only a few weeks old and looked rather vulnerable cradled in Pa’s big hands.

Ben continued eating his meal placidly, unaware of the thoughts racing round in his eldest son’s head.

Marie gets up at least twice a night with Joe! How will Pa cope with that? Adam turned his head cautiously and studied his father unobtrusively. Pa isn’t exactly young, is he? His hair is turning quite grey. I just bet all those interrupted nights will mean he’s tired and bad-tempered all the time Marie is away. I really hope she’s not gone too long.

At the end of the meal, Adam walked round to Marie. “I hope you have a lovely trip,” he said politely. “But please come home as soon as possible. We’ll all miss you.” There was an earnestness and solemnity that left no doubt as to his sincerity. He leant forward and pecked her gravely on the cheek, then ran a consoling finger down Joe’s cheek.

With tears in her eyes, Marie assured him she would do just that. At last! her heart sang joyously. He’s accepting me at last! This trip is proving to a blessing in disguise!

There are times when it is an undoubted best that families are not privy to the inner thoughts of their nearest and dearest. Such things are best left private and undisturbed, if only for reasons of continued harmony. Truth is not an absolute in family life, after all. It emerges unsullied and then is bent and twisted to practicality. The only person not to express his feelings on the matter was Joe. Unless the hearty belch he produced after his feed could be counted as an apt commentary on the entire scenario.

That evening, Marie instructed Ben on the intricacies of his youngest son’s extensive wardrobe. He sat open-mouthed as she showed him piles of small dresses, nightgowns, bootees, caps, jackets, undershirts and other assorted garments whose exact purpose escaped him.

“Does he really need all these things?” he asked weakly, looking at the tiny buttons and intricate pale-blue embroidery with which Marie had adorned the neck and hem of a something she referred to as a day-dress. “Adam and Hoss never had all these bits and pieces.”

One look from Marie was enough to convince Ben that Joseph not only needed every single item he already possessed, but was likely to receive several new outfits from San Francisco.

“I’ll get up if he needs anything tonight, shall I?” he offered. “That way you can get a good night’s sleep and I can get into the swing of things.”

Marie was only too delighted to agree. It seemed like years since she had slept for more than three hours at a stretch. With any luck, Ben might even agree to take over the night-time feeds and changes entirely!

The next morning, a bleary-eyed Ben waved farewell to the departing stage. All three of his sons were behaving beautifully: Adam and Hoss had taken one look at the dark circles under their father’s eyes and had been as quiet and obedient as they knew how. Little Joe lay slumbering peacefully in his father’s arms, enjoying the sleep that had eluded both father and child the previous night.

Nothing Ben had tried seemed to placate his unhappy, crying child and he had honestly began to wonder just how long a baby could cry for, when Joe had given a sudden gulp, blinked twice and then fallen asleep. Looking at the clock, Ben calculated he would be very lucky to snatch two hours of sleep before it was time to get up again.

Looking down at the two boys walking obediently at his side, Ben smiled proudly. “How about we pop into the Mercantile before we go home? I reckon you both deserve some candy.”

Two rapt and joyous beams greeted this pronouncement and Adam and Hoss sped ahead, grateful to run off some steam. They looked like two puppies, gambolling in the sheer joy of being let off the leash. Ben walked carefully in their wake, having little inclination to treat the inhabitants of Virginia City to the sound of Little Joe’s excellent lungs. Besides which, he didn’t know if he could stand another ear-piercing barrage. He looked down at the sleeping child in his arms and smiled in contentment. A new life welcomed into the family – another child to love and protect and guide. He shifted his arm slightly and watched in amusement as the small face screwed up in momentary displeasure, then settled back down in repose.

In the Mercantile, Ben was immediately struck by the difference in his two elder sons. While Hoss hopped anxiously before the large jars of candy, desperate for his father to hand across a penny, Adam stood stock still before the small selection of books, carefully considering each title, head cocked to one side in rapt concentration. Ben carefully studied his sleeping baby and wondered how he would develop, what sort of a little boy he would become.

“You’re going to be good little boy, who listens to his Pa and doesn’t give him any trouble, aren’t you?” he whispered hopefully. Apart from a contented smile that flitted momentarily across the small mouth, the sleeping baby gave no sign that he had heard his father.

“Ma gives Little Joe a bath every day,” Hoss informed his father.

“Every day?” Ben asked weakly. He seemed to remember popping Adam in the tub no more than once a week. How that boy had shrieked and yelled! Ben had always been worried that passers-by would think he was beating his child, rather than merely trying to keep him relatively clean. Bath night had been torture for both father and son. Hoss, by nature a much more placid child, had not enjoyed baths either, but had submitted to them with a teary-eyed resignation.

Hoss nodded firmly. “She says he likes it.”

“And does he?” Ben felt he was grasping at straws now.

Hoss thought carefully for a moment. “Reckon so. He don’t scream none, anyway.”

Adam looked up from his reading. “I could give you a hand,” he offered. “He tends to squirm about.” Was it his imagination, or did a certain look of relief pass across his father’s face? He wandered across to the cradle lying at the side of the hearth and peered in. “Still sound asleep,” he announced.

Ben felt a rush of relief at this statement, which was swiftly replaced by a pang of guilt. It wasn’t Little Joe’s fault; he was just a baby, after all. Maybe it was him? Being a father didn’t seem so easy with this tiny child who only understood his own wants and needs. It seemed an eternity since he’d last bathed a baby, and he had forgotten just how small and fragile they were. Surely Adam and Hoss had never been that small? All of a sudden, Marie seemed very far away indeed and Ben felt bereft. He just hoped the baby would continue sleeping until his fathers and brothers had eaten their dinner. And later, after the trials and tribulations of bath-time, once all three of his boys were safely in bed, Ben promised himself a large and restorative brandy. It was the least he deserved. Round-ups, brandings and harvest time seemed very relaxed in comparison with child care.

“He sure sleeps soundly, don’t he? Nothing seems to wake him.'” Hoss said happily. Within a few days of his birth, it had become apparent that Little Joe could happily sleep through all manner of rumpus and mayhem created by his brothers. Ben gave thanks for that small mercy.

There was no avoiding the ordeal of bath-time. Ben carefully tested the water and then tentatively began to undress his son. Little Joe gave a couple of unhappy cries as his clothes were removed, but soon quietened down once he was immersed in the warm water, lying contentedly, in the crook of his father’s arm and staring upwards with rapt attention. It seemed a very long time since a baby son had looked at him with that particular mixture of trust and adoration and Ben discovered he was beginning to enjoy this precious time alone, just the four Cartwright males.

He was considerably less sanguine at 3 o’clock in the morning. The whole house had an entirely different feeling at night, as if its character had altered subtly and mysteriously. Shadows appeared out of nowhere and lengthened angles out of their normal perspective, while every footstep seemed to sound twice as loud as normal. There was an uncanny emptiness, almost as if the house sensed Marie’s absence.

Oh Marie, my love! I never realised I could miss anyone quite so much, Ben thought, then resumed his steady pacing up and down the living room, gently patting his sobbing son’s back and trying every technique he had ever used with Adam and Hoss. Nothing seemed to work with Joe until, in desperation, he started singing a song, long tucked away from his seafaring days.

“Farewell and Adieu, To you fair Spanish Ladies,” he sang, his deep voice sounding even more sonorous in the still air of night. There was a momentary lull in the wailing. Encouraged, Ben continued singing, holding Joe across his chest and his hand rubbing rhythmically across his back. Gradually, the howls subsided. Looking longingly at the brandy decanter, Ben slowly climbed the stairs to bed. He had the feeling it was going to be a long day tomorrow.

The next morning, Adam tiptoed into his father’s room, carefully carrying a cup of coffee, to discover Ben was still asleep, with Joe sprawled comfortably across his chest. At the familiar creak of floorboards, Ben opened one eye and broke into a smile when he saw the steaming coffee.

“You are a wonderful son!” he announced thankfully and watched as Adam, blushing deeply, placed the cup on the dresser and then carefully picked up his brother. Ben took a long drink of coffee, savouring the taste and enjoying watching his eldest son cradling his baby brother so protectively.

“Can I take him downstairs and give him his bottle? I know how to do it. You needn’t worry. I’ll even change his diaper!” Adam patted Joe’s butt tentatively and was relieved to find that that particular chore did not demand urgent attention. He gave his father a look that was half pleading, half antagonistic, perfectly reflecting the boy who stood on the cusp of adulthood and wanted to prove he was both capable and responsible. His father’s willing nod was all the encouragement Adam needed to take his brother downstairs.

“For a little guy, you sure do cause Pa a lot of trouble!” he whispered and was amused to see Joe gaze sleepily up at him and then give him a gummy smile, before reaching up to grab hold of Adam’s hair and tugging hard. “I get the message!” Adam laughed. “You’re hungry and you don’t want to wait! Your wish is my command, oh great and wonderful Joe!” Hurrying into the kitchen, Adam busied himself preparing the feed. He sang tunelessly, his voice croaking suspiciously on certain notes, as Joe wriggled in delicious expectation.

Ben found himself settling into a routine: setting Adam and Hoss to their chores in the morning and then attending to bookwork in the few scant moments Joe did not need his attention. He was amused to discover all sorts of personality traits emerging in this child, who lay chuckling away in his cradle by the fireside.

“Always on the go, aren’t you?” he said conversationally, watching the little hands reaching up and waving, like fronds of seaweed under water, while Joe’s toes curled and uncurled, almost of their own volition, it seemed. “Never like to be still. Do you want to come with Papa to see the horses?”

Judging by the smiles and gurgles that greeted this, Ben decided that Little Joe judged this to be a fine idea. The late summer sun still warmed the yard as he walked across to the barn, telling his baby son all about the horses on the Ponderosa and his plans to break wild horses and sell them to the army. Was it his imagination, or did Little Joe seem to listen intently, nodding his small head in agreement?

By now, nighttimes were less of an ordeal. Ben had begun to savour the peace of an evening feed, sitting by the fireside, considering the small, unimportant events of the day as Joe sucked his bottle contentedly. How proud Adam had been to be allowed to ride the new bay mare – the boy was beginning to become more confident on a horse. And hadn’t Hoss done well with his reading tonight?

I’m turning into an old father hen! Ben thought. And I’m glad. Childhood lasts for such a short, sweet time and I want to enjoy every moment with my boys. Still, he would be glad when Marie came home. He did not feel complete without her. But a part of him would miss these quiet moments of solitude, watching a sleepy, milk-drunk baby slip contentedly into sleep, retreating into his own private world of dreams. Where do you go, little one? Who populates your dreams? Ben felt his heart was very full. And when Marie got back, the dream would be perfect reality.

Ben awoke early on the morning of Marie’s return, churning with restless expectation, yet feeling strangely rested. Realisation struck him like a thunderbolt and his stomach seemed to knot itself, while his heart thudded ominously. He had slept the entire night. Not a single interruption to his slumbers. No angry protests from a baby yelling his loud indignation against the discomforts of a wet diaper and an empty stomach. Ben sat upright, his mouth as dry as if it were full of ashes.

No! his mind protested as his hand automatically pulled the covers aside. In a daze, Ben watched his legs swing out of the bed and dash across the floor to the crib by the window. How could he sleep so soundly when his boy needed him?

“Please, just let him be alright. Don’t let anything happen to him.” Ben heard his voice, but he was not aware of speaking. He hardly dared to look down. Joe lay in his crib, arms flung back above his head, still and silent. Ben held his breath as he studied the baby intently. Nothing else mattered; every other event of his life suddenly seemed trite, unimportant and irrelevant. Every fibre of his being was concentrated on the small, beloved body in the crib.

Had he felt like this before? Was this the natural instinct of a parent – to be willing to endure anything, to go through anything, just as long as their most precious child was unharmed? Ben could not remember feeling this mixture of anguish and love before. Had the deaths of Elizabeth and Inger deadened something within him, an emotion that had lain dormant until now?

Was the tiny chest rising and falling? If so, the movement was almost imperceptible. Ben strained forward and decided he could not tell if his child was alive or dead. For some reason his vision was blurred and there was a pounding in his ears. Stretching out a shaking finger, he prodded Joe gently in the stomach and was vastly relieved when his son's eyes shot open and he regarded his father belligerently, before bellowing out loud displeasure.

“Thank you!” Ben’s cry of jubilation reached Adam and Hoss, who looked at one another curiously and then shrugged in unison.

“Guess the strain’s getting to Pa,” Adam whispered, helping his brother to fasten his shirt buttons.

Hoss agreed. Little Joe cried all the time, it seemed to him. It was certainly nothing to be happy about. He craved for a quiet, peaceful life, yet somehow knew it was not likely.

As the stagecoach drove into town, one passenger leant precariously out of the window, craning forward anxiously, desperate for a first glimpse of her precious child and beloved family.

“Just look at your Mama! No more sense than a blind hen!” Ben chided, understanding exactly how she felt. He could hardly wait until she was beside him once more, and he was holding her in his arms again. Marie leapt out of the coach, almost before the horses were at a standstill and raced across to her family, her arms outstretched.

“How I’ve missed you,” she murmured, cradling Joe gently, his head tucked under her chin so that she could inhale his delicious baby-scent. Her eyes met Ben’s, returning the look of contentment she found there. Contentment and, if he were not mistaken, the promise of much more to come.

“I missed you too!” Hoss chirped happily.

“We’ve all missed you,” Ben corrected and gave his wife a decorous kiss on the cheek, accompanied by a look that spoke eloquently of just how very glad he was to welcome her home. Marie thought of her new, exorbitantly expensive lingerie, carefully swathed in folds of tissue paper and looked forward to unveiling it before an admiring and exclusive audience of one. She longed to be safely home with all her heart.

Much later, as they lay in bed, relaxed and content, Marie rolled over and draped herself across Ben’s chest. She let one finger idly draw circles on his bare, receptive flesh. “I missed you horribly,” she confessed.

“Just me? Or did a certain young man enter into your thoughts?” His hand toyed idly with her hair, stroking the silken lengths that fell forward over her shoulders to gently caress his skin. Marie could feel the reverberance of his deep voice travel through her body, but she ignored this statement.

“The next time, we’re all going!” she declared firmly, jutting her chin forward, just as an inimitable unmistakable cry started.

“Go on, my dear! I know how much you missed your baby!” Ben teased. It was too much to hope that Little Joe would sleep two entire nights in a row after all.

That child will have to develop a better sense of timing, he vowed.

Throwing a mock glare over her shoulder, Marie threw on an almost-diaphanous robe and hurried from the room. Moments later, she returned with a querulous baby and his late night feed.

“Get back into bed before you freeze in that silken nothing!” Ben said, admiring the way the shell-pink material clung to her hips. He reached out and took Joe from her, settling him into the crook of his arm and taking the bottle with his other hand. Snuggling into his side, Marie felt a wave of perfect contentment as she watched her two men.

“Did you miss me?” she asked after a moment.

“Dreadfully.” There was no doubting Ben’s sincerity. “But you are home now and I’m not letting you go away for a long, long time!”

“Why would I want to go away?” Marie asked seriously. She leant forward and kissed him lightly, then enfolded Joe's small foot in her hand. “I’ve got everything I could ever want right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Late at night, when the entire world appears to be deep in slumber, it is easy to imagine you are the only people in the world. The boundaries between reality and fantasy seem almost interchangeable, blending one into another, so that anything might be possible. As they lay entwined in one another's arms, Marie and Ben knew that everything that was really important was contained within these four walls, secured and protected by their love. What could possibly breach such stout defences? The future stretched out before them, gleaming with myriad wonders and offering infinite joys and shimmering promises.

Joe lay stretched out between them in serene slumber, for neither parent wanted to put him back in his crib. It seemed important that they should all spend the night together. In his sleep, Joe’s hands contracted and then unfurled, to reveal small, smooth palms that had yet to be written on by life.

Eventually, Ben turned out the light and let the velvet darkness slip into the room to caress their bodies. He lay in perfect contentment, adjusting his breathing so that it was in perfect synchronicity with Marie’s. Everything was restored to perfect balance and he smiled as he thought of the golden years that surely lay ahead.


Part Two: The Wayfaring Stranger


“Joseph! Get down here at once and eat some breakfast! We are leaving in twenty minutes and I do not intend to be late.”

Ben Cartwright cast an imploring look at Hoss. “Would you mind going upstairs and chivvying him along? We could be here all day, at this rate.”

Even as Hoss obediently rose from his chair, casting a regretful look at his plate of ham and eggs, a flurry of footsteps announced Joe’s arrival as he barrelled down the stairs and clattered noisily across the room. Grinning at his father, Joe held out his tie with a pleading look.

“Can you help me, Pa? I couldn’t get it to lie properly.”

With a sigh, Ben pulled Joe to stand in between his knees and started to loop the tie around his son’s neck. He wondered what on earth Joe had done to it, for the bedraggled object looked as if it had been thoroughly chewed. On reflection, he decided to not ask, for undoubtedly he would not wish to know what new mischief Joe had been up to. Long years of experience had made Ben an expert in the ways of small boys. He finished by arranging the loops of the tie as neatly as possible and then gave Joe a light swat on the butt.

“There, all done. You both look very nice – very nice indeed.” He looked at his two sons with pride: neatly dressed in their Sunday clothes, they were a credit to any father. Joe had even dampened his hair with water and attempted to brush his curls so that they would lie flat. If he were a betting man, Ben would wager that by the time breakfast was finished, the curls would reassert themselves with characteristic independence.

“Now get some breakfast inside you. We don’t want to be late to meet Adam, do we?”

Correctly judging that no answer was expected, Joe eased into his seat and helped himself to a small portion of bacon and eggs. He really could not see why it was necessary to get all gussied up, just to ride into town, but he knew better than to argue with his father. For an entire week Ben had barely been able to restrain his excitement at the prospect of Adam’s return and this morning he was so tense with anticipation that the air seemed charged, almost as if there was a storm brewing. Joe screwed his head around and looked out of the window, but the sky was a clear blue, with only a few white clouds dotted around.

“Sure will be great to see Adam again!” Hoss contemplated the last remaining roll and decided it would a shame to let it go to waste. “I can’t wait, Pa!”

“Yes, it’ll be wonderful to have Adam back home again,” Ben mused. “It’s been four long years since he left.”

Joe kept silent, devoting his entire attention to his breakfast. He really could not understand what all this fuss was about. To him, Adam was little more than a vague memory, a tall, dark haired man with a deep voice. He did have some faint recollections of Adam singing to him and telling bedtime stories, but as far as Joe was concerned, his family consisted of just two people: his father and Hoss. Big brother Adam was no more than a distant stranger, someone who wrote letters and who sent presents for Christmas and birthdays. Pretty good gifts too, Joe thought. But he did not know this older brother and consequently found it difficult to excited about the return of a virtual stranger. What possible difference could the visit of one man make to his life anyway?

Hiding the remainder of his eggs underneath the uneaten portion of his roll, Joe placed his knife and fork neatly together and smiled engagingly at his father. Ben nodded abstractedly and then went outside to check that the buggy was ready and waiting.

“Boys! It’s time to leave! We don’t want to be late, do we?”

I don’t see what difference it would make, Joe thought rebelliously. Adam’s not so all-fired important, even if he has been to college.

He walked wearily outside and noticed that Ben’s fingers were tapping agitatedly against the side of the buggy. Heaving a small sigh, Joe climbed up, sitting with his arms crossed and a martyred expression on his face. It looked as if it was going to be a very long day.

Waiting restlessly outside the stage depot, Ben peered up the street impatiently and then consulted his pocket-watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. “He should be here any moment now.”

“I hope the stage is on time,” Hoss said anxiously. His insides were churning with excitement and the prospect of even a short delay seemed unbearable.

“Oh, I don’t think we need worry!” Ben laughed. “The Overland Coach Line is pretty reliable.” He looked around and noticed that the youngest member of the family was missing. “Joseph! Get over here at once!”

Heaving a sigh, Joe said goodbye to his friends and sauntered back over to the depot, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his feet scuffing along the ground. Already his tie was halfway around the back of his neck and his shirt cuffs were undone. Tutting away in exasperation, Ben grabbed the boy’s chin in one hand and yanked the tie back into place with the other, before pulling out a clean handkerchief.

“Spit!” he ordered and began to scrub the grubby face. “How can you get so messy in just a few minutes?”

We’ve been hanging around here for hours! Joe thought. I had to do something or I would have died of boredom. With a struggle, he held his tongue and meekly submitted to his father’s ministrations, wondering once again what all the fuss was about.

“It’s comin’!” Hoss yelled. “The stage is comin!”

Ben released Joe and rushed over to join the small crowd waiting at the depot. The stage pulled up slowly, the door opened and a familiar figure stepped out, blinking slightly in the bright sunlight.

“Adam!” His voice choked with emotion, Ben crossed the distance between them with a couple of long strides. “Good to see you, son. Welcome home.” He clasped Adam’s hand warmly and then drew him into a brief embrace, before standing back and proudly surveying the young man. “You’re looking well,” he smiled. His first-born child was back and his family was complete once again.

“It’s good to be back,” Adam started, but before he could say anything more, Hoss engulfed him in a hearty embrace, thumping him joyously on the shoulder, his round face beaming with pleasure. The three men revelled in being together, laughing with the sheer joy of their reunion.

“This your bag?” A voice broke into their excited conversation.

“Yes. And that trunk too.” The luggage was handed down and as the Cartwrights moved away from the stagecoach to allow the next passengers on board Ben noticed that Joe was not with them. He looked around frantically, knowing the child’s remarkable propensity for getting into trouble at the drop of a hat, and was relieved to see him sitting on the edge of the boarded sidewalk.

“Come and say ‘hello’ to your brother,” he urged. It was not like gregarious Joe to suddenly become shy.

Joe stood up reluctantly and slowly brushed the seat of his pants. For a brief moment, as Adam hesitated in the door of the stagecoach, Joe thought he could remember reaching up to a man on horseback, a man who had leant down, then took hold of his hands and swung him up into the saddle. But that memory had vanished quickly, to be replaced by this vision of an elegantly dressed stranger. He had watched his father and brother greet the man with obvious love and joy, but Joe felt nothing, absolutely nothing, and that troubled him.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said politely, sticking his hand out in greeting. Adam grinned broadly and bent down, resting his hands on his knees to survey the boy. Joe hastily drew his hand back and stared into a pair of brown eyes, partially shaded by a homburg hat.

“Hello little brother,” Adam said softly, sensing the boy’s shyness. “It’s good to see you again. You’ve grown up while I’ve been gone.”

It was exactly the right thing to say and Joe gave him a happy smile.

“I’m real strong too!” he informed his brother. “I could carry that bag, iffen you like?”

Adam agreed readily, somehow managing to keep a straight face as he watched Joe drag the carpet bag with some difficulty along the sidewalk, while Hoss lifted his heavy trunk as if it weighed no more than a tray of eggs.

“I can’t believe the changes in both of them!” Adam remarked as he and his father walked slowly behind the two boys. “Hoss is taller than me – and broader too! He looks like a full-grown man.”

Ben nodded. It was sometimes difficult to remember that for all his size, Hoss was still just a young adolescent, with a fair degree of growing-up to do. The boy had such a big heart and was so willing to help that he had a tendency to take on too much. Ben kept a careful eye upon Hoss and insisted the boy take as much leisure time as possible.

“And Joe! Well, he was just a little boy when I left, with golden curls. He fallen and knocked out a front tooth, do you remember? I can still see him waving goodbye to me, with that gappy smile and the tears running down his face.”

Adam had carried that mental picture close to his heart for four long years. In his mind, he could still hear the pitiful sound of Joe’s sobs and feel the heaving of his small chest, pressed desperately against his big brother’s, as he begged him not to go. He reached into his pocket and fingered a small object hanging from his watch chain: edged in silver, the baby tooth had accompanied him throughout his travels and to every single one of his examinations. It was more than a good-luck charm, it was a talisman a reassurance to Adam that he would indeed return home one day. Over time, it had come to symbolise innocent and hope, two qualities that he prized deeply.

“You’ve been away for nearly half of Joe’s life,” Ben remarked. “I expect you’ll both have some adjusting to do.” He was blissfully impervious of the adjustments the whole family would have to make in the months that lay ahead. All Ben cared about was the fact that his son was back home and he had all his boys together once again. What could be more perfect than that?

Adam squeezed his father’s arm fondly. “Everything is going to be just fine,” he assured his father, never dreaming for one second that his glib confidence was sorely misplaced. Everything will go back to the way it was before, the way it had always been, he thought, not realising that the accumulated changes of four years could not be dismissed in such a cavalier fashion.

“I’ve put your bag in your room!” Joe announced breathlessly. “It’s the one….”

“I know where it is!” Adam laughed, not realising how dismissive he sounded. “After all, I slept there for eight years!” He went upstairs, not seeing the hurt and puzzled expression on his brother’s face.

Doing the arithmetic in his mind, Joe was confused. Eight years? Then that meant Adam had lived here before Joe was even born. That didn’t seem right. It meant that Adam had lived here when he was Joe’s age and he found that difficult to believe. Did that mean Adam was just as much a part of the Ponderosa as he was? How could that be, when Joe didn’t even know him? It was all very strange, he decided. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

Upstairs, Adam looked around his room with delight. Everything was exactly as he had left it. Hop Sing had kept the room dusted and aired, but there were all his books, standing in their allotted order and even his guitar still stood in the corner. Picking it up, Adam plucked an experimental chord and frowned as the notes rang out discordantly. He would have to put on new strings and retune the instrument.

There was hot water in the ewer beside his basin and fresh towels on the towel rail, while a new razor lay invitingly in front of his shaving mirror. Everything possible had been done to make his homecoming as comfortable and welcoming as possible, right down to the inviting smell of roast beef that wafted up from the kitchen. Fancy restaurants were all very well, but there was simply nothing to beat the taste of home-cooked Ponderosa beef!

Pulling off his shirt and quickly washing off the grime of the journey, Adam noticed freshly laundered clothes lying in a neat pile on his bed. They looked familiar, but somehow he doubted if they would fit, for Adam was considerably broader now than he had been at 18. However, closer inspection showed that these clothes were brand new and looked to be the right size. And there, tucked into the breast pocket of the shirt was a packet of guitar strings.

You always did know how to make a man feel welcome, Pa, he thought contentedly, pulling on the dark coloured trousers and shirt, before grabbing the guitar and running downstairs.

“What are you doing?” Joe asked curiously, watching as Adam sat hunched in his favourite chair, working intently on his guitar.

“Putting on new strings.”

“Why?” Joe hung over Adam’s shoulder, breathing heavily as he watched his brother. Adam found the warm breath on the back of his neck rather annoying and wished Joe would leave him in peace to complete the tricky job.

“The others were too old to be able to tune it properly.” Adam finished stringing and tuning the instrument and leant back, so that Joe had to move away or risk being crushed. He looked around the room. “Nothing much changed here – except for the dining table. You’ve moved that around, haven’t you?”

“Yes, it fits in better that way, I think,” Ben agreed. “It gives us a bit more room to move around.”

I don’t know what they’re talking about, Joe thought. The table’s always been like that. For as long as I can remember.

Fascinated by the guitar, he leant forward and reached out a tentative finger to pluck the strings, only to draw it back quickly as Adam him sharply across the knuckles.

“It’s not a toy!” Adam said, more brusquely than he had meant to. Joe gave him a reproachful look and wandered into the kitchen. A stream of Cantonese soon indicated that Hop Sing was less than appreciative of his help.

“I don’t think I’m managing very well with Joe,” Adam confided. “One minute he’s bounding around, literally all over me, the next thing he doesn’t seem to want to know me.”

“Give it time, son. Things will settle down. You and Joe just need to find some common ground and re-establish your relationship. You’ll get on just fine with your little brother, so don’t worry. He’s been so excited about your return.”

Standing hidden from their sight in the passageway that lead from the kitchen to the dining room, Joe shook his head firmly.

Oh no I haven’t! he thought mutinously. You and Hoss were excited, Pa, but I wasn’t and you didn’t even notice. I don’t know why Adam’s come back, ‘cos he ain’t needed around here. I don’t need him. I’ve got Hoss and he’s the best brother in the whole world. I don’t need another brother!

Comforting himself with the thought that Adam would not be around for long, Joe wandered listlessly back into the kitchen

“I think Hoss is out in the barn,” Ben continued. “Why don’t you pop out and see him? I know for a fact that he’s longing to show you the horses, especially the one he’s picked out for you to ride.”

Adam looked slightly apprehensive: having scarcely ridden at all during his time at college, he knew that there would be a long and painful period of re-adjustment before he was once again accustomed to spending long days in the saddle. Noting his discomfiture, Ben added a note of reassurance.

“Hoss is a very good judge of horseflesh, you know. I’m sure he’s picked out a suitable mount for you.”

“Pa, at this moment, just about the only horse I’d feel comfortable on is a rocking horse! Better warn Hop Sing I’ll be wanting lots of hot baths and linament for the next few weeks!”

Chuckling to himself, Adam strode across the room, noticing how peculiar his homburg looked next to the western hats belonging to his father and brothers. Wonder when I’ll wear that again? I’ll have to remember to get a more suitable hat, next time I’m in town. In one way, Adam longed to resume the familiar routines of life on the Ponderosa and to put some of his own ideas into practice, but he was aware of a lingering sadness as he contemplated packing away the clothes that represented life at an eastern college.

In the kitchen, Hop Sing handed Joe a cup of coffee. “Give to father – an’ be careful! No spill on floor an’ make mess!”

Nodding solemnly, Joe walked tentatively across to the fireside, where his father sat with his eyes shut, resting his head against the back of his seat.

“Pa? You awake? I’ve got a cup of coffee for you.”

Ben smiled at the boy and took the cup and saucer gingerly. Joe tended to spill half the liquid into the saucer, so that the unwary recipient often ended up with a liberal splash of hot coffee in his lap. This time, only a small dribble had slopped over the edge of the cup.

“Thank you, son.” He sipped the hot drink gratefully. “Ah- that’s good. Just what I needed. It’s been an exciting day, hasn’t it?”

Joe shrugged his shoulders unenthusiastically. “I guess so.” He looked intently at Ben, wondering if there were to be any other changes to the accustomed rhythms of his life. Looking at the child, apprehension etched clearly on his face, Ben realised what was worrying his son and put down the cup of coffee.

“How about you come and keep your old Pa company for a bit, Little Joe?” He patted his knee invitingly and was relieved to see the eager smile that lit up Joe’s face. Hugging his youngest son close, Ben smiled consolingly: poor Joe! It rather looked as if his small nose would be well and truly out of joint for the next few days. But in the meantime, he could provide a little comfort and reassure the child that some things in his world had not changed and remained constant. Besides which, he enjoyed these moments just as much as Joe did. Perhaps even more, for Ben knew the day was fast approaching when Joe would feel far too grownup to sit on his father’s knee. It was a rite of passage, something all his boys had been through, but that did not make it any easier to accept or any less painful to endure. And before, there had always been another little boy who still wanted to sit on his knee. This time was different. Ben savoured each precious second, acutely aware this might be the last time he would ever cradle his son on his lap. The transitory nature made the moment even sweeter.

Don’t be in too much of a hurry to grow up, Little Joe, he prayed. I still need my little boy. I still need to be needed.

As if he sensed his father’s distress, Joe tightened his grip around Ben’s waist and burrowed his head into his chest.

“Dinner time!” Hop Sing called across the yard, summoning Adam and Hoss to the table. Giving his hands a cursory wash, Adam sat down and surveyed the spread laid out invitingly before him.

“Now I know I’m home! Hop Sing – you’ve excelled yourself. This looks wonderful.”

Hop Sing bowed his head in delight at the praise and slipped back into the kitchen.

Unfolding his napkin, Adam was suddenly aware of a presence at his elbow. He looked around to see Joe standing beside him, with a dark scowl on his face.

“What’s the matter?”

“You’re sitting in my seat.”

It had been a long and tiring journey and Adam had no intention of re-enacting Goldilocks and the Three Bears. He just wanted his dinner and this child was not going to distract him from that pleasure.

“Don’t be silly. That’s my seat,” he pronounced firmly. “I always sit on Pa’s right and Hoss sits on his left. Why don’t you sit down here, next to me?”

Joe shook his head stubbornly. “That’s my seat,” he repeated stubbornly. Adam noticed the bottom lip was sticking out in a petulant manner and this just hardened his resolve.

“It was my seat before you were even born. Now, just go and sit down and eat your breakfast!” He didn’t see the tears that filled Joe’s eyes as he scurried fearfully to the far side of the table to sit beside Hoss, as far away from Adam as possible.

Ben appeared, wreathed in smiles and took his accustomed place at the head of the table. Joe gave him a hurt look as he realised that his father was impervious to the new seating arrangements. He picked at his food, but for once Ben was too busy talking to Adam to even notice. A cold feeling gripped Joe’s stomach.

I wish he’d never come back. And I hope he’ll go away real soon. Nothing’s the same anymore.

The next day, Ben decided that the family would not go to Church, but would spend some valuable time together. He was all too aware of the undercurrents of tension between his eldest and youngest sons and was determined to try to breach the gulf that seemed to be stretching wider by the hour. That morning, Joe had neatly dodged around Adam as they were called for breakfast and slid into the cherished seat on his father’s right-hand, where he sat ensconced with a triumphant smile on his face.

Adam stood stock-still for a second, with an aggrieved expression on his face, before sitting down next to Hoss. Deliberately ignoring the situation, Ben wondered if he should invest in a round table.

“Who would like to go fishing?” A ready chorus indicated all three of sons regarded as an excellent idea. At least there is one thing they can agree upon, Ben thought with relief.

Ben set a slowly, steady pace on the ride out towards Lake Tahoe, out of consideration for Adam, who was finding riding just as difficult and painful as he had anticipated.

“Do not rush ahead, Joseph!” he called out and was relieved to see Joe rein back obediently, even if he did throw a reproachful look back over his shoulder. “That boy rides entirely too fast for either my peace of mind or his own safety,” he explained to Adam. “He simply doesn’t seem to know what danger is.”

Adam thought back to a time when he too rode with carefree abandon across the wide pastures and felt a sneaking sympathy with Joe. Not that he was tempted to follow suit. At this precise moment, Adam was concentrating very hard just to move in unison with his horse and felt that anything more than a slow walk or, at the very most, a gentle jog was quite fast enough. He had quite forgotten just how high up you were on horseback. Looking down, he saw that his right leg appeared to have developed a disconcerting habit of sticking out at an unbecoming angle. Pulling it back into the horse’s side, Adam felt a twinge in his knee and winced slightly. He had the distinct impression that just walking would be a painful chore tomorrow.

Father and son rode side by side up to the top of the ridge, where they halted, absorbing the beauty of the landscape that stretched out before their eyes: the dark, verdant green of the forests, the emerald-blue of the lake and the purple-grey hues of the mountains, over-arched by a pure sky that serenely framed the scene.

“This is what I missed!” Adam sighed joyfully, feeling the peace seep deep into his soul. “Room to breathe in the all this emptiness and solitude and just to feel alive! A man can find his soul here.”

Hoss urged his horse down the slope, giving Joe’s reins a tug as he passed. “Come on! Can’t you see Adam and Pa want to be alone?”

Joe gave him a bemused look. “They do? Why?”

“They want to talk, man-to-man. An’ they don’t need us hanging around, do they? So, we’ll just go ahead and get things started. You want to fish, don’t you?”

Joe was happy enough to start fishing, having no use for gazing slack-jawed at a scene he saw just about every day of his life, but he was perplexed by Hoss’ words. All his life, his father and brother had included him in their discussions and it was difficult for him to comprehend that there were situations where his presence was neither required not welcomed.

Everything keeps changing since Adam came home. And I don’t like it when things change. Why can’t things just stay the same?

He looked across at Hoss, who was carefully selecting his preferred fishing spot. “How long is he staying for?” There was a wistful note in his voice that was impossible to miss.

Hoss looked at him strangely. “What on earth do you mean? Adam’s not going away again – he’s come home.”

But it’s my home, not his! Joe’s heart protested. “He’s really staying? Forever?”

Hoss nodded. “Course he is! Boy, I have missed him! Things just weren’t the same when Adam was gone.” Looking back at the two figures silhouetted on the ridge, Hoss felt as if he had regained a long-lost part of his childhood.

Joe digested this information slowly, not liking what he heard. He had always thought that he and Hoss were best of friends, as well as brothers, but it had never occurred to him that Adam might have the same claim on Hoss’ affections.

“Oh. I thought he was just visiting for a while, and then he’d go away again. Like he did before.”

“No way!” Hoss said firmly. “Adam’s gonna help me an’ Pa run the ranch.” He grabbed his fishing pole and settled down comfortably at the edge of the lake, not seeing the devastated look on Joe’s face.

But what about me? Joe wondered. Where do I fit into this? What’s left for me to do?

Watching the younger boys out of the corner of his eye, Ben shifted in his saddle and regarded Adam thoughtfully. “You don’t regret your time at college, do you?”

A dreamy smile flitted across Adam’s face as he drank in the beauty of the scene that stretched out before him. “Not for a single moment. It was all I dreamt it would be – and then some more! But I can’t lie, Pa. There were times when I longed to be here breathing the clean air and living freely. Being away has made me see things through fresh eyes.”

His words were music to Ben’s soul. How truly blessed he was.

They moved off slowly, the horses picking their way down the narrow trail that wound gently down to the crystalline waters of the lake and joined the other two members of the family. Joe mumbled a greeting and then concentrated hard on fishing, determined to show his brother just how skilled a fisherman he was. Gradually, a little peace began to ease back into his troubled mind. He even offered some advice to Adam on where the fish were most likely to bite. For his part, Adam accepted the advice, while his mind floated back to memories of two boys paddling in the chilly waters, Joe clinging on to his hand and screaming with joy when the waves splashed them. The past and present seemed so incredibly close, and Adam felt that he could almost reach out and pull the two back into a coherent whole.

Dusk was beginning to fall as they rode back into the yard, tired but content.

“Bath and then bed for you, Little Joe,” Ben commanded. “It’s a school day for you tomorrow.”

“Shall I give you a hand, Little Joe?” Adam volunteered. The day at the lake had been so companionable and relaxed that he found himself automatically slipping back into his role of elder brother.

Joe gave him a look of withering contempt. “I’m not a baby, you know!” he announced in ringing tones of deepest disdain, marching off to the washhouse, indignant outrage evident in every inch of his small body. “And my name is Joe!” The door slammed hard behind him, crushing Adam’s buoyant mood.

“I was only trying to be helpful!” Adam protested, wondering how he had misjudged the situation so badly and bemused at how a small boy had the power to make him feel so dreadful.

“He’ll come around,” Hoss advised. “He’s just a bit confused right now. Told me he thought you were only here for a visit. I set him straight on that score!”

The moment he finished, Hoss realised that he had said the wrong thing and cringed inwardly as his father and brother stared at him, their jaws slack with disbelief.

“Would you care to explain?” Ben said eventually. “Why on earth does Joseph think that Adam is a visitor and not home to stay?”

Hoss shuffled nervously. “Well, I guess Little Joe don’t really remember Adam too well. He were just a little ‘un when you went away, and the fact is, he can’t recall when you used to live here. “ Hoss was painfully aware that he was not helping things.

“Little Joe doesn’t remember me?” Adam repeated in a stunned voice, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. Joe was such an important part of his life, his cherished baby brother, that he had automatically assumed that he occupied an equal part of Joe’s affections. Suddenly, the boy’s indifferent, almost antagonistic attitude began to make sense. At best, Joe regarded him as a mere houseguest. “I mean, I know he was just a little boy, when I left, but still…” His voice tailed off in despair.

Ben hastened to offer an explanation, trying to absolve one son’s tactlessness, another’s total indifference and to console the third. “Adam, you were never forgotten. Not a single day went by when you were not remembered and missed. We spoke about you often and I read every single one of your letters outloud to your brothers. You were always in our hearts. But of course Joseph has only a few memories of his mother too and you left just a few weeks after she died. Four years is a very long time for a little boy, after all. Almost half his life. Perhaps Little Joe decided that, like his mother, you were gone forever. I’m sorry, Adam, I should have realised how he felt and spoken to him.”

Adam nodded, still rolling the unpalatable idea around in his mind and struggling to come to terms with it.

A sound of splashing accompanied by a high treble voice singing loudly drifted from the washhouse.

“I’d better go and check on him,” Ben chuckled. “Despite what he may say, Little Joe still struggles to rinse his hair properly. And he never seems to remember to wash behind his ears.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll come around.” Hoss tried to reassure his brother, but Adam felt that part of the joy had gone from his homecoming.

“I’ll see to the horses, if you like,” Adam offered. It would be good to have some time alone to properly digest this unpleasant news and work out a plan of action to recapture the love he had once taken for granted. “You’ll want to get ready for school too.”

Hoss busied himself, undoing the cinch and removing the saddle. He picked up a currycomb and bkept his head well down, tending to his horse before he dared to speak. “Fact is, I left school some time ago, and I’m working full time now.” The regular swishing sounds of the brush stood starkly between them and he was careful not to meet Adam’s gaze, knowing only too well the importance his brother placed on book learning.

“Another joyful surprise,” Adam remarked tartly. “Something else you conveniently forgot to tell me, brother? I’m in constant suspense, just wondering what the next happy little revelation will be. Only thing I can think of is that Pa will come bounding in, clutching some young lady by the hand, and then introduces me to his new wife, whom he’s kept hidden under the stairs until just the right moment.”

Hoss gulped and grabbed a stable rubber to complete his grooming chores. Adam was the natural scholar in the family, though Little Joe was as smart as a whip. For himself, Hoss had drearily endured his years at school, longing for a release. Working on the ranch suited Hoss: it gave him a sense of achievement and fulfilment. He just hoped that he could make Adam realise that this was the right choice for him, just as going to college had filled a need for Adam. Just because they were brothers didn’t mean they had to be alike, did it?

Later that evening, with the younger boys upstairs and, it was devoutly to be hoped, asleep, Ben and Adam sat for a long time, talking idly and sharing experiences and ideas, beginning to sew the seeds of a new relationship. Adam realised what an engrossing companion his father could be, revelling in the way that Ben treated him as an equal, as a man.

For the first time, Ben realised what a large, gaping hole had existed in his life and just how much he had missed adult conversation in the evenings. For so very long, once Little Joe and Hoss were in bed he would sit alone by the fireside, letting his mind run back to the days when he and Marie would sit and laugh and plan and just love one another. That seemed part of another life. After her death, quiet evenings lost all their charm for Ben and stretched out in a long, lonely, seemingly interminable series, but now there was once again pleasure to be sought at the end of the day and a new enjoyment to be derived from looking towards the future.

He looked at his eldest child with pride: Adam had grown into a fine young man, with a keen brain bursting with new ideas he was eager to put into practice. Ben thought with pride of all the great things they could accomplish jointly in partnership. Together they could take the Ponderosa to new heights of success. It had been a terrible wrench when Adam went away to college, but the result was ample reward. Much of Adam’s childhood had been clouded with sorrow, loaded down with hardships and responsibilities, which the boy had accepted without complaint, despite the fact his young shoulders were not able to bear the load comfortably. His time at college had been ample recompense for the earlier tribulations, an ideal opportunity to put himself foremost and to concentrate on his own dreams and desires.

Later on, as the fire was beginning to die down, Adam lit a lamp and went upstairs, treading softly. He hesitated outside Joe’s door for a moment and then eased it open, shading the beam with his hand. Joe lay sprawled across the bed; his nightshirt rucked up around his hips, the bedclothes in a hopeless mess and his bare feet decidedly icy to the touch. Lying with one hand cradling his cheek, Joe was obviously dreaming of something pleasant, as evidenced by the happy smile on his face. Carefully turning down the lamp and then pacing it on the dresser, Adam retrieved the bedding from the floor and tucked it around Joe’s skinny frame. He stood back and looked at the child, wondering where all the years had gone and despairing that he could ever find a way to bridge the gulf that yawned in an aching chasm between them.

At breakfast, Joe glowered in a bleary-eyed fashion from the seat next to Hoss, contemplating his oatmeal with disinterest while his father outlined plans for the day ahead.

“Hoss, I’d like you to check the fence lines on the northern pastures, please.”

“Can Adam come with me? I thought I’d introduce him to some of the hands,” Hoss asked.

Ben considered this for a moment. “Perhaps you could do that tomorrow, son. I’d planned on taking Adam into town with me today, so he could meet some of the men he’ll be doing business with. Then, I also need to set up authority for him to draw on our various bank accounts, negotiate on contracts – that sort of thing. We’ll ride in with Little Joe on his way to school.”

Hoss tried hard to disguise his disappointment, while Adam groaned inwardly at the thought of yet another excursion on horseback. The muscles in his butt and thighs were screaming with pain and he wasn’t quite sure that he would even manage to mount a horse, far less stay on board.

For once, Hoss felt his appetite disappear completely. Adam had only just come home, knowing next to nothing about ranching and already Pa was giving him lines of credit and suchlike, while he had worked away for over a year without these responsibilities ever being suggested. Conveniently ignoring the fact that entering into negotiations or checking the clauses of a contract would constitute a cruel and unusual form of torture to him, Hoss sought for a way to re-establish his rightful place in the family. His gaze fell upon Joe, daydreaming as usual.

“Stop playin’ with that oatmeal and eat up, Shortshanks! You’ve gotta leave for school soon.”

Joe scowled blackly, but managed to choke down a couple of mouthfuls. Even Hoss was turning against him! He wondered if he would ever get to spend time alone with his father, or if Adam was always going to be tagging along and getting in the way.

Ben sipped his coffee and contemplated the day ahead. At least there hasn’t been any actual bloodshed so far, he mused. That was the one positive thing he could think of, so he concentrated on that, as the undercurrents of annoyed and aggrieved feelings swirled around the breakfast table like the wilful Washoe zephyrs.

Riding out with Hoss a month later, Adam looked at a barren area of ground with great interest. It was near enough to the ranch to be used as a useful holding paddock and grazing area, yet it was standing empty and unused.

Catching his quizzical expression, Hoss started to explain. “Thin soil. Only goes down a couple of feet before you hit the bedrock. Simply won’t hold enough moisture to grow fodder or decent grazing. A real shame, for it come in right handy, being so close to the house.”

Catching his bearings, Adam stood up cautiously in the stirrups, still not entirely confident in the saddle. He doubted if he would ever be half the rider that Joe was, and that was slightly annoying. It did not seem right that his little brother should be able to outstrip him so effortlessly. Their relationship had moved from outwardly antagonistic to mere disdain, and Adam was seriously beginning to doubt if it would improve beyond that, but he persevered. Despite himself, he had to admire Joe’s stubbornness, no matter how aggravating it was. The kid just wouldn’t budge an inch, despite his father’s best attempts at mediation. There was obviously something troubling the boy, but Joe resolutely refused to discuss it.

Shading his eyes, Adam peered into the distance, where a stand of trees grew tall and straight at the top of a slight incline. “Didn’t there used to be a stream over there?” he asked, a hint of excitement colouring his voice.

“Still is,” his brother agreed. “But it’s too far away to be any good. The moisture doesn’t make its way down here.”

Sitting back down carefully in the saddle, Adam positively smirked with joy. “Ah, but if we dam up that stream and then dug irrigation channels, we could bring the water down here and we’d soon have a decent pasture. It would take some careful planning, but I think I know how to do it. I worked on a very similar project in my last term, and I’ve brought the plans back with me”

Hoss gave him a look of pride, mixed equally with despair. “That’d be right handy,” he agreed. “Pa sure will be pleased.” Not for the first time, he wished he was more like Adam: it would be great to be able to come up with a plan like that, and have the knowledge and skills to be able to put it into action. Not for the first time, Hoss wondered if Adam were destined to be the shining star on the Ponderosa, while he and Joe shimmered unnoticed in the background.

Once the plan was explained to Ben, he was delighted with the prospect and willingly gave his permission for Adam to start work. However, there was another matter causing him concern.

“I see you’re planning to change the work rotas,” he remarked, being careful to keep his voice casual and light.

Adam nodded. “I’ve rationalised things and I think there will be definite advantages if we do things my way.” He glanced at his father. “Is there a problem?”

Ben tried very hard to ignore the off-hand note in his son’s voice. “Actually, there is. Quite a big problem. You put Asa Melvin and Frank Rogers in the same crew and now Frank has handed in his notice. I just wish you had discussed this with me first before you changed things.”

“Sorry.” Adam did not sound in the least contrite. “I wasn’t aware that I should run all minor scheduling changes by you. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

That sally earned him a hard glare, but before Ben could respond, Joe piped up joyfully.

“Everyone knows Asa and Frank can’t work together!” It was almost impossible to ignore the note of glee in his voice.

Trying very hard to be tolerant and holding on tight to the fraying ends of his temper, Adam regarded him gravely. “And why would that be?”

“Asa and Frank were courting the same girl last year and she chose Asa. They ain’t never spoken since,” Hoss explained.

Adam rubbed his chin and permitted himself a rueful smile. “I can see why my changes were such an unmitigated disaster! How about I go to talk to Frank, and then take another look at the rotas? I’m really sorry, Pa – I got carried away looking at the figures and just didn’t thinks about the men involved. I know it’ll take me a while to get to know everyone and their specialities, so maybe I could run over any plans with you?”

“With pleasure,” Ben agreed. He was happy to encourage Adam to make his own decisions, but he had hoped to be consulted occasionally. After all, there was a great deal to be learned about running a ranch this size, even if you did have a college degree. He knew that his son was anxious to prove himself to men who regarded him as an interloper, still wet behind the ears, but it was depressing that Adam did not ask for advice or guidance until he was forced into a corner. At least the boy had the sense to admit when he made an error and he did have to make some mistakes along the way. At least this one wasn’t as costly as the fiasco at the timber mill.

Without Ben’s knowledge, Adam had ordered and fitted some expensive new saw blades. “They’re the very latest,” he explained proudly to the timber crews. “I got them shipped from back east and they’ll cut through timber like a hot knife through butter. See the special arrangement of the teeth?”

There was just one problem: Adam had not realised that the blades were designed to cut hard wood, not the soft, resinous pine grown on the Ponderosa. First of all, the timber splintered badly and cracked along its length. Then the blades became clogged up with sticky resin and lost all their cutting power, before twisting out of shape. Realising the magnitude of his mistake, Adam went disconsolately home to explain why they would be late in meeting the timber order. His father’s words rung in his ears, even now.

It’s early days son and we all make mistakes. As long as you learn from this, we’ll say no more.

He looked across at Hoss. “Would you come with me to talk to the men?” he asked. “You know them all and I could really use your advice and support.”

Puffing out his chest with pride, Hoss was happy to oblige, delighted that Adam wanted his help. Perhaps book learning wasn’t everything after all? Maybe he did have something to offer?

“I could come too,” Joe offered, unwilling to be left out.

“We’ll manage just fine, “ Hoss assured him dryly. “You concentrate on finishing your chores and getting your homework done.”

Joe dropped his head and stared hard at his feet, willing the tears standing in his eyes not to fall. Adam and Hoss were together all day, while he was stuck in that dumb old school. It just wasn’t fair! His mind whirled back in time and Joe caught hold of a fleeting memory: he was running across the yard in pursuit of his brothers, calling out for them to wait for him. Then there was a tug on his clothing and he was swept up into his mother’s arms.

Let your brothers go. You’re too little, Joseph. Was this what his life was going to be like? Forever chasing after Adam and Hoss, but never quite catching up?

“What are doing at school now, Little Joe? Anything interesting?” Ben could see how hurt Joe was at the unintentional exclusion and his heart ached in sympathy for the boy. He knew from personal experience how difficult it was being the youngest in a family and he wanted to bring the boy back into the conversation, to try to make him feel a part of things once again. He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Adam and was gratified to see an immediate flash of understanding cross his face.

“Miss Jones set us a project to work on and when we’re finished, there’s gonna be a special show, after school. With cakes and lemonade and everything!” Joe announced. “I’m working on something real special and it was all my own idea!” He looked around proudly.

Taking the heavy hint, Adam leant forward. “That does sound intriguing! Can you tell us what it is, or is it a secret?”

“It’s secret alright! But you’ll see at the show. Fact is, I’d better get started on my plans.” Joe marched off self-importantly, while his family struggled to keep straight faces until he was out of sight. At least ten minutes passed before he came sheepishly downstairs, with inky hands and wildly ruffled hair. He approached Adam gingerly, with an expectant expression on his face.

“I might just need a bit of help with my plans…”

Adam tried to choke down the lump that suddenly rose in his throat. There was something so trusting about the way that Joe stood before him, head tilted to one side and looking nervously at him that tugged at his heart. He knew how stubborn and independent Joe was and it meant so much that he was one chosen to help.

“Sure thing, little buddy. We could work on it together, if you like?”

Joe beamed gratefully and grabbed his brother’s hand, dragging him towards the stairs. “Great! But you have to promise not to tell anyone!” he beseeched.

“I promise!” Adam vowed fervently. “It’ll be our secret, just between you and me!” He reached down and tossed Joe over his shoulder and then dashed upstairs. The peals of gleeful laughter from both brothers rang out clearly.

In Joe’s characteristically messy bedroom, Adam studied the plans closely, and was careful to offer a few, very tactful suggestions, lavishly interspersed with extravagant praise for the boy’s detailed plans and imaginative ideas. At last it seemed as if Joe was finally starting to accept him and Adam did not want anything to bruise this delicate new relationship.

After a while, Joe sat back on his heels and looked up curiously. “Will you come to school to see the show?” There was an undertone of uncertainty in his voice.

“Of course I will, little buddy. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Nibbling his lower lip, Joe persisted. “You’re not just saying that, are you? You’re really not going away again?”

Adam hunkered down on the floor beside him and put a consoling arm around his brother’s thin shoulders. “Joe, I’m not going anywhere. Trust me.”

Pushing away, Joe stared at the floor. “But last time, you said you’d come back and you didn’t.” A tear ran down his cheek. “You didn’t come back. Not for Christmas or Easter, or even my birthday. You just left.“ Pulling in a heaving breath, Joe struggled to continue. “And I missed you, Adam. I missed you so much that it hurt, right here.” Thumping his chest for emphasis, Joe flung himself into Adam’s arms, for the first time since his return home.

How glibly they had all assured the child that his brother would be back, carefully explaining that Adam would be gone for a long time, but he would come back. To a small boy, the distance between summer and Christmas stretched out in an eternity, and no-one had thought to check that Joe had actually understood his brother would not be coming home for not just one, but four Christmases four birthdays and four Easters. Hugging him close, Adam began to realise how betrayed Joe must have felt.

“I missed you too, buddy, more than you can possibly know.” As he soothed the child, Adam felt that his homecoming was finally complete. The past had forced its way back into the present, but it was finally resolved, allowing him to move on.

Downstairs, Ben noticed that Hoss seemed to have lost interest in his pudding and was merely pushing his apple fritters around the plate. As the middle child, Hoss had always been in demand: it was either Adam and Hoss doing things together, or Hoss and Joe. When Adam returned, this familiar scenario continued, but now things appeared to be changing. This bugeoning new relationship between oldest and youngest brothers was a novel and unwelcome experience for Hoss, who was clearly feeling as left out and abandoned as both his brothers had done in the past. Ben began to feel worried. His shy and reserved middle son found it difficult to make friends outside the family and he tended to hover on the sidelines at social events, fearful of rejection. In contrast, Joe just bounced up to people, making friends in an instant, while Adam’s cool wit and nimble mind made him an engaging companion.

Although a part of him was pleased to see his brothers getting along, Hoss was beginning to feel excluded and slightly jealous. “Wonder what Joe’s got planned?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice neutral and light.

Ben saw through the subterfuge immediately, for Hoss wore his heart on his sleeve and his normally cheerful face had a distinctly woebegone look. Nevertheless, he appreciated the effort his son was making.

“I’m sure we’ll find out before too long. Little Joe’s not very good at keeping a secret, is he? But actually, Hoss, I’m glad we’ve got a few moments alone, as there’s something I want your advice on.”

The subterfuge worked brilliantly. Hoss perked up immediately and was soon occupied in helping his father to plan the celebrations for Adam’s birthday at the end of October.

“I think we should make this birthday really special,” Ben said. “After all, it’s the first big celebration since Adam came home and we do have four years to make up for. Have you got any ideas?”

Hoss leant forward eagerly and spooned up a large mouthful of apple fritter. “Reckon I have! I think it’s time we got Adam a real good horse of his very own. Something special.” He took another mouthful of pudding, working things out in his mind. “You used to talk about a friend with a horse ranch outside of Nevada City – how about we go up there and let Adam choose himself a new mount?”

“I’d almost forgotten about Jim Ross! It must be five years or more since we last met,” Ben mused, recollecting how Jim had bred some of the finest horses he’d ever seen. “Well done Hoss! I think that would be just perfect.”

Basking in the praise, Hoss was soon helping his father to plan out the route they would travel. By the time Adam and Joe finally came back downstairs, the preparations were complete. There was just one snag: they would be gone for over a week.

“I don’t mind missing school!” Joe volunteered nobly. He looked offended at the laughter that greeted this guileless proclamation. “I could do with a new horse too,” he added, hoping this might swing the decision in his favour.

“In the first place, you are not missing school. Your education is far too important.” Joe slumped back in his chair. “In the second place, it’s far too long a journey over rough ground for a small boy. And finally, you are riding a perfectly good pony,” Ben informed his youngest son firmly, covering all possible grounds for argument.

“Sides, when you’re a bit bigger, Cherife’s ready an’ waiting for you. He’s a real good horse,” Hoss offered.

Joe’s mouth turned down, “I always get hand-me-downs!” he said plaintively. “Hand-me-down horses and hand-me-down clothes! It’s not fair. I could go up into the attic right now and see my entire life up there waiting for me, all packed up in mothballs. I never get anything just for me. This shirt used to belong to Hoss and my winter coat was made over from one of Adam’s and…”

“We do not want a run-down of your wardrobe, Joseph,” Ben warned. “This is Adam’s birthday treat and you will not spoil it for him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Joe said softly, his entire body drooping with disappointment.

Ben had to steel himself to remain firm and resolute, for he knew perfectly well that Joe hated to be left behind and tended to worry and fret whenever his father went away. He looked was still very young and looked so small and vulnerable that Ben was sorely tempted to give way, just this once. Still, it was a valuable opportunity to spend some time with his two elder sons, and Adam really did deserve a special birthday treat this year to make up for all the years he had been away from his family. “It’s only for a week or so,” he consoled Joe. “Hop Sing will be here to look after you, and you’ll be at school for most of the day anyway.”

What if something happens? Joe worried. What if something happens and you don’t come back?

He hated it whenever his father went away on a trip and felt quite sick at the prospect. There was always a nagging thought, gnawing away at his mind that he was never quite able to suppress, the awful fear that Ben would ride out of the yard one day and simply not come back, just like his Mama had or even Adam. Except that Adam had come back, after all. That made Joe feel slightly better, but he could not quite shake the feelings of injustice.

“Why do I always come last?” he asked. “It ain’t fair, Pa. I’m fed up with being the youngest.”

“Oh Joseph! You know that I love you just as much as I love Adam and Hoss, don’t you? And there are some privileges that come with being the youngest.”

Joe looked sceptical, but he took the bait dangled so enticingly before him. “Yeah? When do I ever get to go first?”

Adam swatted him gently on the butt. “When it’s time to go to bed, kid! Now scoot!”

Joe waved goodbye and then turned his pony down the road that led to the Virginia City schoolhouse, while his father and brothers set off in the opposite direction, towards Nevada City. There was a large lump in his throat that would not go away, no matter how hard he swallowed.

Don’t be such a baby, he chided himself. It’s only for a few days. Nothing’s going to happen.

It was little consolation and Joe could not help sniffing loudly and then was forced to wipe his nose on his sleeve. For some reason, he never seemed to have a handkerchief when he needed one. Then a sound of hoof beats made him turn around and he saw Ben dismounting and walking quickly towards him, arms open wide. Joe scrambled off his pony and ran forward to savour one last, fierce hug from his father.

“Be a good boy,” Ben whispered, holding him closely. Joe nodded and then reached upwards, clasping his cold hands around Ben’s neck and planted a farewell kiss on his father’s cheek.

The child’s hands are freezing, Ben thought. I must remember to get him some gloves before winter sets in.

Waiting at the end of the lane, Hoss felt dreadful. “Poor little guy – he hates being left behind.”

“His turn will come,” Adam said reassuringly. “But not this trip, brother! This trip is for you, me and Pa!”

Ben rejoined them, and if his eyes were slightly red and his voice was slightly huskier than normal, neither of his sons commented upon it. Besides, they didn’t quite trust their own voices not to crack.

Much to his surprise, Joe found the days actually passed quite pleasurably. For once, school was marginally less boring than usual. In addition to working on their projects for the show, the lessons were actually holding his interest for once. Miss Abigail Jones had chosen a topic that was dear to many of her pupil’s hearts and was teaching them all about the Overland Settlers, a subject that was of considerable interest and relevance to most of her pupils. Thus the days passed quickly and relatively painlessly for Joe.

“Many of those who made the long and hazardous journey westwards were very young children,” Miss Jones began earnestly, clasping her hands in front of her thin chest. She fixed Joe with a beady glare. “I believe that your older brother, Adam, was one of our hardy pioneer children, Joseph?”

“Yes ma’am, he sure was. And my brother Hoss was born on the trail too, “ Joe announced proudly.

Abigail Jones smiled benevolently, while dismissing the latter part of this statement. She was not in the least bit interested in Hoss Cartwright. “Perhaps Adam would like to come to school one day and give us a little talk about his experiences?” she suggested, with a smile that showed a considerable amount of teeth.

Joe answered non-commitally, being perfectly sure that Adam would rather clean out the Ponderosa outhouse single-handedly and on a hot, sunny day to boot before he would willingly collaborate on a project with Miss Jones.

I wonder why he’s so scared of her? he pondered. She ain’t his teacher and she can’t thrash him with her ruler! Joe had a sudden vision of Adam lying across Miss Jones’ lap as she spanked him vigorously with her ruler and struggled valiantly to keep a straight face.

Miss Jones started on her topic for the day and soon every child in the schoolhouse was listening with rapt attention as she related the tragic events that befell the Donner Party. There was complete silence as she explained about the unseasonably early snowstorms that trapped the pioneers in the mountain pass to the Sierra. The serried rows of children were absorbed as she related the desperate efforts of the Forlorn Hope as they strove valiantly to get help for the stricken party. By the time Abigail described the terrible events at the Camp of Death, more than one child was near to tears.

Mindful of her youthful audience, Abigail was careful to give a highly censored version of events. “Out of an original party of eighty nine people, only forty eight souls survived,” she concluded. She had purposefully not mentioned that many of those who had survived had been forced to eat the dead bodies of their erstwhile travelling companions. Not wanting a stream of irate parents banging at her door and complaining that their children were waking screaming from nightmares, Abigail concentrated on stressing the bravery and fortitude of the settlers.

The classroom was uncharacteristically quiet as she finished her lesson. The children sat, inwardly digesting the information and considering the many hazards their own families and friends must have faced on the long journey westwards. When Miss Jones dismissed the class for lunch, Joe hung back from the mad stampede towards the door. Instead, he walked over to the large map that hung behind the teacher’s desk and, with a shaking finger, began to trace out the route his father and brothers were travelling along. He shuddered when his finger arrived at the Donner Pass. The same place and at the very same time of year!

They’ll be home tonight, Pa promised! And Pa never lies, he never breaks his promises!

Shaking off his fear, Joe picked up his lunchpail and went out to join his friends. Some of the older boys were eagerly giving the younger children an unexpurgated version of the full horrors the ill-fated Donner Party had been forced to endure.

“’Course, you gotta understand they were starving to death,” Jim Adams began, in a ghoulish tone. “All their food was gone and they were trapped. No way out and no help coming any time soon. Eventually, there was only one thing to do.” He paused for dramatic effect and was pleased to see the younger children looking up at him expectantly. This was better than telling ghost stories at Halloween! “One by one, people began to die, and all they could do was to bury their bodies in the snow. And then they realised – there was only one thing they could do, if they wanted to survive.”

Matt Greenstone took up the tale with relish. “They didn’t want to do it, but they were starving to death. And the bodies were kept fresh by the frozen snow, so one day, when the hunger pangs got real bad, they realised they had only one option to stay alive….”

“You mean – they ate them?” Helena Morgan looked as if she would be sick.

Matt nodded solemnly. “Cannibalism!” he replied. There were several nervous gulps and at least half a dozen white faces in the little crowd. Nobody felt much like eating afterwards and most children went home with full lunchpails that evening.

That afternoon, the children worked hard to put the finishing touches to their projects, in preparation for the show the next day. By two o’clock, all the lamps were lit, as the sky outside was heavy and grey, with the promise of snow. Gulping down his fear, Joe tried very hard to concentrate on his work, but his hands were clammy and clumsy and he kept dropping things.

Abigail Jones surveyed his work with delight. “That’s very good indeed, Joseph. You’ve shown considerable application and worked very hard on this. I am proud of you.”

“Thanks!” Joe’s eyes shone with pleasure, for a compliment from Miss Jones was rarer than hen’s teeth. “I’m really looking forward to the show tomorrow.”

“Will your family be coming along?” Abigail asked, with studied nonchalance. Oh cruel fate, if she denied the opportunity of spending some time with the intriguingly delicious Adam Cartwright! She had fallen hopelessly in love with him from the first moment he appeared in church, but for some reason she could not quite fathom, there had been few opportunities for conversation. Abigail was a lady with steely determination in her soul and was determined to seize upon any opportunity to bedazzle her beloved.

“Of course they will,” Joe responded confidently. “They’ll be back this afternoon. In fact, I bet they’re waiting there for me right now.”

Joe rode home at full-pelt, convinced that his father would be sitting at the fireside, ready to greet him with open arms. His heart sank when he led his pony into the barn and saw the other stalls were still empty.

Oh well, they’ll be back for supper, he thought philosophically.

Hoss certainly wouldn’t want to spend a night out in the open, eating cold jerky and beans when he could be tucking into Hop Sing’s delicious cooking. Smiling broadly, Joe ambled into the kitchen and perched on the edge of the table, watching intently as Hop Sing deftly jointed chickens and then dredged the portions in flour, ready to start frying them once the family returned home.

Eventually, once it was completely dark, they had to acknowledge that the older Cartwrights would not be back in time for dinner. Joe managed to choke down a few mouthfuls, consuming the bare minimum to keep Hop Sing from nagging at him and then sat staring into the fire, his arms wrapped around his bony knees.

“I’m not going to bed until my Pa gets home,” he announced firmly.

Of all the men who lived and worked on the Ponderosa, there was only one person who could match Joe for sheer wilfulness. Brandishing a wooden spoon, Hop Sing gestured towards the staircase. “Bed. Waiting not make father and brothers come sooner.”

“I won’t sleep,” Joe threatened.

“Bed,” Hop Sing repeated implacably and gave added emphasis by tapping Joe firmly across his butt. Groaning loudly and hobbling in a dramatic fashion, Joe went upstairs reluctantly. For a long time, sleep eluded him and when he heard the sound of horses in the yard below, he leapt out of bed and dashed towards the window. It was freezing cold that night and frost was already starting to form on the inside of his window, so Joe breathed heavily on the glass and used a corner of his nightshirt to rub a small peephole. Peering out, he saw Charlie, the ranch foreman, returning from town. With a sigh, Joe wandered back to bed.

Winter was coming early, there was no doubt of that. The bushes were covered with berries already and Hoss always said that was a sure sign the winter would be long and hard. Thinking back to his lessons in school, Joe remembered that the Donner Pass was on much higher ground than the Ponderosa, and there could easily be snow there already. Lots of snow, in fact. His Pa could be trapped and….

With a little sob, Joe burrowed under the covers and tried to block out the terrifying images that swirled around in his head, dancing with horrid clarity. The wind that blew around the eaves of the house would be much stronger up in the mountain passes. In his mind, Joe could hear the melancholy sounds it would make, whistling down a narrow gorge, where a small party waited for help that would not arrive until it was far too late.

If he shut his eyes tightly and concentrated very hard, Joe could see the smile on his father’s face and the love that shone from his eyes. But all too rapidly this comforting image was replaced by another: the sad expressions on Adam and Hoss’ faces, as they lay pale and still, almost merging into the snow that built up in banks and drifts around them. All around them the snow whirled wildly, forming dizzying patterns that drifted slowly ownwards to gradually obliterate their features. Soon, the only thing Joe could see was their eyes, staring at him, pleading for help.

And as the small boy cowered under the bedclothes, secure and safe, he could see the eyes of his father and brothers grow blank and unseeing, not flinching or blinking as the snow floated down to settle on the irises. First one flake of snow, and then another and another. Joe watched in horror as his father’s brown eyes began to turn white. Soon, all too soon, their eyes were full of snow and Joe knew he had lost his family forever.

Seated by the warmth of the kitchen range, Hop Sing was sipping a cup of tea when a cold hand tugged at his sleeve. He only just managed not to drop the cup, but stifled back his angry retort when he saw the anguished expression on Joe’s face.

“Who’s gonna look after me if my Pa don’t come home?” Joe asked in a small, thin voice. “What if something bad has happened to them?” He shuffled his bare feet nervously on the floor and gazed up at Hop Sing imploringly.

“No need worry. Father and brothers fine. Be back tomorrow.”

“Do you promise?” Joe asked.

“Promise,” Hop Sing confirmed, sending up a quick plea to whichever Gods might be looking down on the Ponderosa that evening. He knew the weather was closing in and was deeply troubled that the family had not returned home. Mr Cartwright was a man who kept his word, no matter what, and the unexpected delay worried Hop Sing gravely. But he would never let his private concerns convey themselves to the small boy who stood before him, so Hop Sing bustled Joe back up stairs and into bed with all his accustomed vigour.

Returning to the kitchen, Hop Sing sat with his elbows propped on his knees, staring with great intensity at the outside wall. If sheer will power could produce results, there would have been a clatter of footsteps on the porch and then a shrill blast of chill air would rush through the house as the travellers returned. Instead, the only thing disturbing his thoughts was the resonant ticking of the grandfather clock in the next room, as it sonorously marked each passing, unfulfilled moment.

Joe only went to school under great duress the next morning. Hop Sing had almost relented and let him stay at home, as it was obvious from his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes that the child had barely slept. However, a day at home would only give him more time to worry and fret, so Hop Sing chivvied and chided Joe relentlessly. Looking at the steaming cup placed before him, Joe raised his eyebrows questioningly. Hot chocolate was an expensive treat, normally strictly rationed and reserved for special occasions.

“Cold outside. Maybe snow later. Drink up!” Hop Sing knew there was little chance of Joe eating any oatmeal that morning and was determined the boy should consume something that was warming and nourishing. The smile he received was ample recompense.

The ride to school had never seemed longer or lonelier to Joe. He wished that Hoss was beside him, pointing out all manner of interesting things.

Funny how you don’t realise how important something is until it’s gone, Joe thought.

Over the past few days, he had thought about Adam a lot, and was rewarded with more and more memories. Just small, inconsequential moments, like the way Adam would give him a piggy-back ride on the way up to bed, but they were precious remnants of a time he had almost forgotten and Joe cherished them.

I’m only just starting to get to know him again. I can’t lose him now – he doesn’t even know that I love him. His heart ached with loneliness.

Miss Jones kept her pupils busy and by two o’clock, the schoolroom was transformed. All the desks were pushed to the edges of the room and now held an impressive array of models, painting, pieces of embroidery and various other artefacts, encompassing all aspect of the chosen theme: My Home. Typically, Joe had decided on a suitably ambitious project and decided that nothing less than a representation of the Ponderosa would satisfy him. Adam had managed to persuade him to amend his plans slightly and had offered sage advice, but Joe had laboured lovingly over his model.

In the background stood a painting of the ranch house, painstakingly rendered, with five small figures, cut out of cardboard, adorned with woollen hair and clothing made out of scraps of fabric. Each member of the family was represented, and Joe laboriously plaited a long pigtail for Hop Sing. In the foreground, four little horses stood inside a small, rather rickety corral. Each one was lovingly carved out of wood and then painted, while more scraps of wool served as manes and tails.

Miss Jones watched as Joe made the final adjustments to his display. Just as he placed the last figure in its appointed place, she clapped her hands together loudly and announced in ringing tones “Children! It’s almost time for your families to arrive! Into your places and get ready.”

Absorbed in his thoughts, Joe gave a violent start and then stared in dismay as he uncurled his fist to reveal a cardboard figure that was crushed and crumpled beyond repair or recognition. Stifling an exclamation, he discarded it and meekly joined the line of children lining up beside the teacher.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself fiercely. They’re not coming. Yet something within him kept hoping.

Soon, the schoolhouse was filled with excited chatter as proud parents and doting relatives viewed the displays and congratulated the children on their work. The floor was soon scattered with cookie crumbs, while the lemonade and hot punch were gulped down gratefully by young and old alike. Joe stood to one side, staring out of the window and watching in vain for the sight of three figures riding towards him. The various representations of My Home just seemed to mock him and all his pride and joy in his own display was now as dull and lifeless as the ashes from last night’s fire.

Abigail Jones was not greatly blessed with much intuition or understanding, but she did have a kind heart and was deeply moved by the pensive air of the one child who stood alone and isolated from the festivities.

“Joseph? If you would like to leave early today – that would be alright.”

Joe nodded his head sombrely and managed to stammer a few words of thanks, before grabbing his coat and cantering home, hoping that his family would be waiting to greet him, rather than lying cold and still in an inhospitable valley high in the mountains.

“We’ve made good time!” Ben announced, as they rode up to the schoolhouse. The return leg of the journey had been long and hard, hampered by icy winds and snow, which made the high mountain passes treacherous for men to traverse on horseback. It was too early for the horses to be shod with their winter shoes, which had studs screwed into them to provide extra grip on icy surfaces, so the Cartwrights had no choice but to dismount and lead their horses over the most dangerous parts. But despite the cold coming, they were nearly home, safe and in one piece and they had achieved the object of their mission – a feisty sorrel horse, that Adam rode with evident pride. There was only one thing left to do – collect Joe from school and return home for a celebratory meal.

Abigail Jones stood on the steps of the schoolhouse, waving goodbye to the last of the departing children and their parents when her heart gave a little leap. Self-consciously patting her hair into place and adjusting the bodice of her dress to maximum advantage, she smiled happily as the enigmatic Adam Cartwright rode towards her, mounted on a magnificent sorrel with four white socks. There was something deep and mysterious about the eldest Cartwright son that intrigued Abigail deeply and she thought he was the living embodiment of Mr Darcy. If only he could see that she was destined to be his Elizabeth Bennett! She ran forward to greet the party in a positive fluster of lace trimmed petticoats.

Adam’s new horse did not like the dancing bands of white that rushed across the schoolyard and started to dance around skittishly. Struggling to control the animal, Adam forced himself to smile pleasantly at the teacher, who was gazing up at him with a most peculiar expression on her face. He was not altogether convinced that Miss Abigail Jones should really be left in charge of impressionable young children. Indeed, there were times when the woman seemed to be positively lacking.

Ben’s deep voice broke into Adam’s reveries. “Good afternoon, Miss Jones. I hope we are not too late to enjoy the show your pupils have worked so hard on?”

“Indeed no!” Abigail simpered happily and led them into the schoolhouse with a jaunty sashay of her hips. Ben looked around the empty room with dismay.

“Where is Joseph? And the other children?”

Abigail was more than a little scared of the imposing Ben Cartwright and grew flustered. She was also deeply dismayed to notice that Adam was standing as far away from her as possible, while Hoss walked slowly around the classroom, inspecting the handiwork.

“I allowed Joseph to go home early. He was a little upset and it didn’t seem fair to make him stay, when…” Her voice trailed off miserably.

“When Joseph was the only child without his family present.” Ben finished the sentence for her. He knew that for all his outgoing, fun-loving nature, Joe was still just a little boy, in need of love, praise and reassurance. How must he have felt, standing alone and exposed, while all the other children basked in the praise and admiration of their families?

“Pa?” Hoss was standing at the far end of the room, his meaty hand resting on a small desk. “You’d better come and have a look at this.” His voice was unsteady and as Ben walked closer, he was shocked to realise that his son was close to tears. Placing a comforting hand on Hoss’ shoulder, Ben looked down and smiled at the rendition of the Ponderosa, created with so much love and smiled at the sign that boldly proclaimed My Home in Joe’s unique, backward sloping handwriting.

“That’s quite some piece of work!” Obviously, Joe had spent hours working on this. Bending down, Ben studied the figures closely. The one with the pigtail must be Hop Sing, but the other three were virtually indistinguishable from one another. Unless – the one with grey hair must be himself, while the one with the large white blob on its head would be Hoss. By a process of elimination, the remaining figure must be Adam. Joe had considerably more enthusiasm than artistic talent. Nevertheless, it was an impressive sight.

Miss Jones smiled at Adam in what she fondly assumed to be an alluring manner and wondered why he averted his eyes. Of course! He’s too much of a gentleman to let his feelings show! Such delicacy of sentiment! A flush crept up her throat and she found it difficult to catch her breath.

“But Pa – can’t you see? We’re all there – you, me, Adam – even Hop Sing. But where’s Joe?”

Adam bent down, a concerned look on his face. “He certainly planned to put himself in there. He told me so.”

As he looked more closely, Ben realised that there was no figure representing his youngest son. Why would he portray his home in such detail, yet leave himself out? The answer flew back at him, straight and true, piercing his heart. Because he does not feel a part of that home. He feels left out, alone and abandoned.

Adam gave a small cry and picked up a crumpled piece of card from the floor. Smoothing it with his fingers, they looked at a small figure with a smiling face, green eyes and curly brown hair.

“We must be going,” Ben announced and marched out the schoolhouse, without a backward look. Abigail Jones watched Adam’s retreating figure and began to tidy up the classroom, busily planing which dress she would wear to church on Sunday. Adam Cartwright might pretend to be politely indifferent to her, but she knew that was only his natural reticence. He would not want to declare himself until he was sure she returned his affections. Humming a little tune, Abigail soon lost herself in happy fantasies.

All the way home, Ben reproached and berated himself. Had he been so busy with his elder sons that he had failed to notice how Joseph was suffering? What must his little boy have been going through? Was it really fair to exclude the child from a family trip, even if it was over rough, inhospitable country and during the school term? He set a fast pace, anxious to see his child as soon as possible, and to try to set things straight. As he rode, Ben kept thinking of the crumpled and discarded cardboard figure. Did Joe feel so worthless and insecure that he felt he no longer belonged on the Ponderosa? Did he doubt how much his father and brothers loved him?

Behind him, Adam and Hoss rode side by side, speaking quietly and each finding some solace in the other’s company and words.

“Sure hope the little guy’s alright,” Hoss said. “I bet he’s been real lonely and missing us summat fierce. After you left for college, he took to sneaking into your room at night and sleeping there.” He cleared his throat loudly. “He’s a good kid, Adam, a real good kid. Big heart, but he does fret over things. Always afraid of being left out or left behind. Sure hope he doesn’t think I’ve tossed him aside, now that you’re home. I never meant to do anything like that.”

Adam realised that it was often Hoss who voiced what others were thinking but could not quite put into words. Such niceties as grammar and phraseology did not greatly concern his brother, but the very simplicity and sincerity of his words just served to emphasise the deep and pure emotions he felt.

“I hope I can be as good a brother to Joe as you are,” he confessed. “You’ve given me a hard task to follow. I don’t want to let Joe down. I went away once and he felt that I’d abandoned him.”

“You’ll be fine,” Hoss assured him. “Joe’s got a heart as big as Lake Tahoe. Mind you, he’s as stubborn as molasses that’s set hard!”

Smiling slightly, Adam redoubled his efforts to keep the horse under control and just managed to stop the animal from barging his hindquarters into Buck. He certainly was a challenging ride and Adam could foresee some interesting days ahead. He could imagine how Joe would clamour to be allowed to ride him. Once he had the animal more firmly under his control, he would take Joe out for a special trip, just the two of them, alone together.

He recalled all the times they had ridden together in the past and how tightly he had held onto a small boy, brimming with self-confidence. It grieved him beyond words that Joe had no recollection of those times that were so precious to him.

Trying to view things objectively, Adam acknowledged that he had arrived home in the full and certain expectation that things would be exactly the same as when he had left, including his relationships with his family. And, where Pa and Hoss were concerned, things had worked out pretty much as he’d expected them to. But with Joe, things were very different. Joe had steadfastly and stubbornly insisted that his life would continue just as it had always done. A life in which Adam played no real or meaningful part. It was only know, as he thought of how his little brother must be feeling, that Adam could acknowledge just how much Joe’s attitude had hurt him.

It is not too late, he vowed. I am not loosing you, brother. I simply will not allow you to slip through my fingers. We can get back to where we once were, I know we can. With enough love, anything is possible.

If his words had a certain tone of desperation about them, Adam was able to dismiss this as mere fanciful conjecture. He was a man of action and as good as his word!

A plume of smoke arose from above the treetops, signalling that they were nearly home. The three men urged the horses on faster, their speed in direct opposition to the feelings of dread that consumed each of them. Ben cantered right up to the porch of the house, unwilling to wait for a single moment longer.

“Joseph!”

At the sound of the familiar cry, a small figure came hurtling out of the door, launching itself across the porch at breakneck speed.

“I knew you’d come home!” Joe screamed in delight, impervious of the fact that Ben only just managed to keep Buck from trampling him underfoot, while Sport shied nervously in the background. For once, Ben did not scold his son’s impetuosity, rather he delighted in the fact that Joe seemed to be acting so normally and looked to be overjoyed to have his family home once again. He dismounted quickly, throwing the reins to Hoss and picked up his son to savour the precious feeling of holding him close.

“You’re squashing me, Pa!” Joe protested. Ben merely pressed his cheek against the soft curls and gave Joe a fond kiss, before finally settling him back down on his feet. Thus released, Joe submitted to a bearhug from Hoss and then approached Adam, who was still mounted on Sport, slightly apart from the rest of the family.

“I missed you, Adam. I’m real glad you’re home.”

Adam nodded, not daring to say anything. Joe looked at the horse critically. “I’d try another type of bridle,” he advised knowledgeably. “Maybe a martingale might make him a bit easier for you to handle.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Adam replied dryly. He leant down and stretched out a hand. “Want to try him?”

Joe blinked, as the past and present seemed to merge seamlessly into a perfect whole. Everything seemed very clear and straightforward now. Reaching up, he grasped hold of Adam’s fingers, gave an agile bounce and was lifted up into the saddle. They rode around the yard a couple of time in silence, before Joe trustingly leant back against Adam’s chest and stared up at him. That was when Adam knew he was truly home, when he felt the unconditional love and trust flow from every fibre of Joe’s body.

“You know, if you keep your right leg in close to his side, you’d get on a lot better,” Joe confided in a confidential tone of voice.

“I’ll try to remember,” Adam said, and then reached forward to waggle Joe’s ears. The boy squealed laughter and wriggled wildly, but Ben knew there was no danger. Adam was holding on tightly to Joe. He would look after him.

Ben looked at his boys and knew that whatever trials and tribulation lay ahead, they would be able to face them together, as a family. No matter how different they might be, their strength lay in the deep love that stretched like a golden cord, binding them together into an immutable whole. At times that cord might be stretched to breaking point, but the purity of its essence would always endure, come what may.

Riding towards the barn, Joe fixed his father with a beseeching gaze. “Can I get a new horse soon, Pa? Please?”

Ben rolled his eyes meaningfully. “Joseph!”

Some things never changed. He hoped they never would.


Part Three: Winter Passage


“Joe! Tighten up on the left! We’re going to loose half the herd if you keep daydreaming like that!” Adam’s voice rang out clearly across the pasture.

Tightening his lips into a straight line, Joe merely nodded and bent his attentions to ensuring no beast would wander off, but internal, his thoughts were churning rebelliously.

When will Adam ever stop treating me like a child? And a none too bright child at that?

“Ease up on the kid,” Hoss advised. “Cut him a little slack.”

Adam snorted contemptuously. “So are you volunteering to explain to Pa why some of the best beeves this side of the Sierras are missing? Because little brother over there is busy wool-gathering and can’t keep his mind on the job? I don’t think so, do you?”

“He’s doin’ his best,” Hoss pleaded. “It’s his first roundup and he’s got a lot to learn, sure – but he’s as keen as mustard, Adam. If you keep riding him like that, you’ll just flatten the spirit right out of him.”

“The kid’s unsquashable!” Adam grumped, but then considered his brother’s words carefully. “I don’t treat Joe differently to any of the other hands,” he said, trying hard not to sound too defensive.

“That’s just it – Joe ain’t one of the hands, is he? Did Pa treat you like that, when you first came back home? Embarrassing you in front of the men or putting you down in public? I don’t think so.”

“I was considerably older than Joe. And I had a lot more experience than our baby brother over there.”

Hoss watched as Joe deftly herded a particularly recalcitrant cow back into the main body of the herd and gave him a companionable wave of his hand. “Time will sort that out soon enough, Adam. You of all people should know that. But we can all help to make it as easy a passage as possible for Joe.”

Adam considered this as they continued to drive the herd slowly down towards the tree-lined meadowlands, which would provide shelter from the worst ravages of winter. Much nearer to the ranch house, it was fairly easy to keep the animals supplied with hay, once snow covered the ground and froze the grazing solid. But this year, the high summer pastures were already fetlock deep in snow, for winter was making its presence felt with a vengeance. Normally, there would still be abundant grazing in the meadowlands, but Adam knew this would soon be depleted and then the tedious task of driving out with wagonloads of fodder would begin.

“Perhaps I should give Joe a little more responsibility,” he mused.

Hoss brightened up, not noticing the sardonic smile that curved his brother’s lips. “That’s just what I meant. Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“You know those half-Guernsey calves?”