Every time I see the episode, ‘Right is the Fourth R’ I want more. Here you will find my attempt to embellish, to fill in the gaps, to answer some questions.

One Question in particular is how the heck did Adam get home after the fight? And if his attackers, ‘earned their money’ lets see some of the action.  Also, What was his first day like as a teacher? And what happened between Adam and Barbara when they finally learned the truth that her Uncle was hiding?

So . . . enjoy.

RIGHT IS THE FOURTH ‘R’
Adam’s first day as a teacher

The sun was just below the horizon as Ben Cartwright came downstairs. A light tracing of frost decorated the big dining room window, framing the gray pre-dawn light outside. “You’re up early son. ” Ben was surprised to find his eldest already at the breakfast table.

Adam put his fork down and poured some coffee for his Father.  Hop Sing bustled out with a steaming plate of eggs and sausage for Ben. “Oldest son have important job, eat good, need much energy!” The little man smiled and bowed as he retreated to the kitchen.

Ben laughed at the sour look on Oldest Sons’ face and sat down accepting the coffee.

“Don’t tell anyone else Pa,” said Adam,  “But I think I’m a little nervous.”

Ben took a sweet roll from the platter on the table, “Just think of them as a room full of Little Joes’.” He teased.

Adam spluttered in his coffee, “Thanks, now I really feel better!”  He pushed away from the table and asked, “Are you sure that you’re okay with this Pa?  That timber contract is due in two and a half weeks . . . .”

“Of course I am son.” Ben replied patiently, “I think I can remember how to run a timber crew, and I have all your notes.”  Ben got up to follow his son to the door.  He watched, smiling, as Adam put on his coat and strapped on his gun with practiced ease. Ben handed over the black hat, after brushing off some imaginary specks of dust.  “Have I ever told you how proud I am?  You’ve been a blessing to me son, and I am proud of all that you’ve accomplished.”

Caught by surprise, Adam had to remind himself to close his mouth.  “What brought this on?”

Laughing, Ben was pleased at the look on his sons’ face, it wasn’t easy to startle his eldest.  Ben clapped Adam on the shoulder. “It’s just that I don’t say it often enough and there are too many times when I take you for granted.” Ben didn’t mention the dream he’d had last night. The conversation he’d had with Elizabeth, Adam’s mother.  Inger and Marie had been there too, each woman had served as mothers in their turn, to very special young man.  His son had a destiny beyond the Ponderosa. A fact that his father often had a hard time admitting.

 Ben hefted the book laden saddlebags from the sideboard, his eyebrows rose in surprise at their weight. Adam smiled his rare smile, the one that reached his eyes and showed his dimples.  He took the heavy saddlebags and settled them on his broad shoulder.  “Thanks Pa, --  that means a lot.”

The sound of quick feet from the kitchen interrupted the moment, as Hop Sing came bustling around the corner.  “Mr. Adam, . . . Number One Son not leave without lunch!”  The little cook bowed,  “Hop Sing fix special treats!”

Adam laughed and took the sack of food.  His smile now included the faithful Chinese.  “Now I think I’ve got everything.”  He tipped his hat to both men and with a jaunty air, headed out into the frosty pre-dawn light. 

Adams’ saunter across the yard was halted when Curly Jones, the Ranch Foreman called out.  “Good luck in school, Teacher!”  The man was leaning against the porch railing of the bunkhouse rolling a smoke.  From inside the building came shouts and laughter, as the rest of the hands made ready for the day.

“Thank you Curly, but is everyone interested in my temporary teaching job?”

Curly, who was bald as an egg, grinned; showing his tobacco stained teeth.  “It’s not so much the teachin’ --  as the teacher.  That Miss Barbara is a pretty little thing.” 

Adam tilted back his hat and winked.  “We’ll just have to wait and see if I can make the grade.” 

“Ha! Ha, Ha . . . .”  Curlys’ own laughter followed Adam into the barn.

Sport was standing tied, in a spare stall.  Tom Miller the old hand retired to the barn chores when he could no longer ride the range, was mucking out Sports’ stall.   Nearest the door, Chubb greeted him with a resounding neigh, and rattled his bucket entreatingly, hoping for a second breakfast.  Adam chuckled, the big black and Hoss were a perfect match.  In the next two stalls Cochise and Buck were still working on some sweet hay. Across the way, Sport bobbed his head up and down, rolling his eyes back to look at his rider.  With a pat on the tall chestnuts’ hindquarters, Adam called out.  “Morning Tom, don’t bother putting this son back.  I’ve got some work for him today.”

Tom paused to lean on his pitchfork, watching, as Adam ducked into the tackroom.  Since he was going to town Adam figured to use his best saddle and not his more serviceable and scarred range riding rig.

“I heerd you wuz to take over the teachin’ in town fur awhile.  So I fed ‘im first, ‘ee’s all ready fur ya.”

“Thank you Tom.”  Adam came out of the tack room carrying the finely tooled saddle, bridle and brightly colored saddle blanket.  Sport, seeing the gear, began to shift restlessly.  Buck and Cochise pulled their heads up to look, curious, but Chubb was busy checking his manger for any tidbits he’d missed.

“I also packed ya a bait of grub fur thet big feller a yorn.”  Tom hawked and spit, the brown stream hitting the beat up spittoon dead center.

Smoothing the blanket, and swinging the saddle to Sport’s back, Adam was surprised.  “Well Tom I figured to put him up at the Livery Stable.”

“Aww thet’ll do no good Adam.” Tom shifted his chewing tobacco, becoming almost unintelligible, “Yew gott’ p’ssel a kids ta’ ride h’rd on.  Thet ther’ is a f’ne pi’ce a ‘orseflesh ya got.  Yew sh’ld t’ke adv’tge of ‘avin’ ‘im.”

Adam, squatting to reach under Sport’s belly for the cinch suddenly looked thoughtful.  “I see, sort of a bribe and a distraction.”  Leaning in, to properly tighten the cinch as Sport tried to hold his breath and swell up, Adams’ lips twitched in amusement.  “Perhaps you should take this job Tom.”

Tom overplayed his surprise considerably.  “No w’y, no ‘ow!  Me t’ke on a whole p’ssel a Little Joes’?!   Not l’kly!”

Amused, Adam pulled Sports head down and slipped on the fancy bridle, tied on the heavy saddle bags and the burlap sacks of feed from Tom.  He also added some extra rope and some metal stakes, so he could make a long tether for Sport. Upon consideration Adam also added a canvas bucket. The school only owned one wooden bucket and Sport tended to slobber. The kids wouldn’t care, but Adam could picture several irate mothers if they found out their children took water from the same bucket as a horse. Sport craned his neck, as Adam kept on adding gear, curious at what was going on. 

Tom watched, and grinned, “You be reeal careful now Adam.  If’n those young critters give yew trouble, just yew a’holler and me and the hands ‘el come a runnin.’  We ride fur the brand don’t ya know.”

Adam laughed outright at Toms’ comparing the Virginia City children to rustlers and bandits.  He walked Sport outside and stopped at the hitching rail to check the saddle girth one last time.  As Adam at last put foot to stirrup and swung aboard, the upstairs window to Little Joe’s bedroom crashed open.

“Hey Adam!!”  The morning sun gilded the highlights on Joe’s tousled curls.  Bare to the waist, blithely ignoring the cold, the youngest Cartwright hung out the window yodeling.  “Have a nice day at school!!”  Joe’s infectious giggle rang across the yard.  Adam waved and rode out, glad at least, to have escaped the teasing from his brothers.

The sunlight was just peeping through the trees as he rode out. The bright yellow rays seemed to follow him along; highlighting the cloudy breath of man and horse as Adam lifted Sport to an easy canter.  The freezing temperatures of the night had dusted the grass edging the roadside, with a light coating of frost. Some late fall wildflowers, weary with the season added their color to the morning.

From the trees ahead came the busy chatter of a pair of squirrels. Adam could see their thick gray coats and tails as they paused in their continual search for food to store up against the winter. They scampered along the branches overhead and hurled insults as he and Sport passed by.  Grinning at their impudence, Adam tipped his hat as he and Sport left them behind. To his left he spotted a flash of movement. The sharp winged shapes of a flock of Barn Swallows were darting at impossible speeds through the forest canopy. Named for their affinity, to nesting in barns or other open structures, Adam had always been fascinated to watch the birds’ wild aerobatic flights.

In a rush of sound the birds flew directly overhead. Sport jumped in surprise Adam had to shift quickly to correct and steady the gelding. The road ahead broke out of the trees to run along the edge of a meadow.  The birds dipped and swooped following the land as it gently sloped away from the road to the bed of the lively Donner Creek. The swallows swirled, in an impossibly mad dance, dipping and darting over the water and into the forest just beyond. Adam remembered a course he had taken at Harvard on Ornithology. The Professor had been absolutely obsessed with every nuance of observation he could get from Adam about birds in the West. Amused at first, Adam had become impressed at the mans’ detailed studies and drawing of birds.

Musing on the nature of knowledge and teachers Adam spotted a pair of mule deer drinking from the creek. They were yearlings, he could see their antlers were just little fuzzy nubs on their foreheads. The animals’ thick brown coats showed red in the morning light. Ignoring the swallows antics, they started up at his own approach and bounded across the water, fleeing into the forest beyond.  Adam smiled, he was hunting inspiration this morning, not food. The rising sun continued to warm the air, and in the distance the sound of a flock of crows rang through the morning. Their harsh calling struck Adam as almost rhythmic and musical.

Deciding to join in, and Adam indulged himself. His rich baritone filled the forest. He sang such old favorites as, ‘Barbara Allen’, ‘Bold Soldier’, ‘The Girl I Left Behind Me’, ‘Woodsman Spare That Tree’ and ‘The Long Ago’. Sport canted back an ear to listen and bobbed his head in time.  The chestnut gelding snatched his feet from the ground almost dancing, creating little puffs of dust in the fall drift of leaves and pine needles.  His rider smiled, shifting his weight, encouraging the gelding to enjoy himself.  In time, Adam was almost sorry to see the smoke from the chimneys of Virginia City lifting above the trees.  On an impulse he swung Sport off the road to a side trail that circled around the city, to the North.  He would avoid going through the streets and top out on a small rise overlooking the schoolyard.

The trail wasn’t often used and Sport was hock deep in drifts of dead leaves and pine needles.  This muffled the sound. The quiet of the trees gave back it’s own song to the pair on the trail. Adam and Sport were silent as they eased their way through the forest.  The gelding had his head up, ears alert. Adam’s eyes were bright as he took in the life of the day. The sun, now higher in the sky was beginning to warm the air, from the overnight Fall chill. A bright halo of color was created around the horse and rider. 

Old Granny Jean saw the pair. She was out in the forest, foraging for the last wild herbs of the season. The careful gathering and storage of herbs and spices was how she made a living. Granny Jean was an independent lady, something of an eccentric. When she spied man and horse through the pines, it seemed to her that they were dancing with the sunlight. Granny Jean stood, bemused, clutching her shawl, gather bags at her feet, watching the apparition ease around the bend of the trail, out of sight.

Unaware of their effect on Granny Jean, Adam and Sport moved on down the trail. He pulled the Sport up short, as they were about to enter the schoolyard.  The chestnut shook his head in protest; Adam leaned forward placing a calming hand on the geldings’ neck.  Sport finally caught his rider’s change of mood and was still, ears pricked forward, as he spotted what Adam had seen.

Two young figures were coming out of the school building.  Adam recognized young Billy Claiborne and the older boy, Ike Clanton, both of them, known troublemakers.  The boys, laughing and giggling as boys do, pushed and shoved each other as they shut the door and tumbled off the school porch. They headed down the street into the city, not seeing the watching Adam and Sport.

Adam leaned on his saddle horn in contemplation.  “Well my boy. . . I wonder why the two most notorious troublemakers in school, would be at the SchoolHouse so early in the morning. Hmmm . . .”  Sport shook himself and stretched, as he shifted his feet, a hot yellow stream entered the morning.  Amused, the new teacher had to agree with the gelding’s silent comment, something smelled.  Adam reviewed the plans he’d thought over.  Western children were practical creatures; their lives dealt with the realities of living off the land.  It was hard for a farm or a ranch child to see the values of Shakespeare or Plato. Adam figured that the younger children would be willing to follow orders, if he could just neutralize the two oldest, Billy and Ike.

Figuring the best defense was a good offense; the substitute teacher considered his options as he sent Sport across the yard and behind the school. Adam set about unsaddling and making the chestnut comfortable.  From the firewood pile for the school stove he improvised a rough saddle stand and even made a platform to keep the feed sent by Tom, clean and off the ground.  Driving a stake in a convenient tree trunk, Adam hung the bucket after drawing some water. He paused to give the chestnut a friendly scratch. Sport bobbed his head up and down, giving his rider a sharp shove toward the school. “Alright!” Adam laughed, “I’ll get to work.”

Heavy saddlebags in hand Adam warily approached the door to the school.  Years of enduring the pranks of Little Joe flashed through his mind.  He’d already checked through the windows and the door didn’t appear to be boobytrapped.  Hand on the rough-hewn panels of the door, the substitute teacher warily shoved it open and stood scanning the room.  The school desks were grouped three across on the left side of the room and two across on the right. A central aisle down the middle ended at the teachers’ desk, with a large bentwood chair for the teacher, and on the wall behind the desk hung a large blackboard. To the right was hung a piece of corkboard to pin memos and displays. To the left was the door for a small storeroom for school supplies.  In the same corner squatted the potbellied stove ready for the coming winter.  Everything looked in order.

The walls next to the door were adorned with hooks and shelves for the children to hang their coats and to store their lunches and other gear.  The walls on either side had large windows to allow in plenty of light for the students to work at their desks.  The storeroom was safely locked, so Adams’ attention focused on his desk, the chair and the blackboard. Eyeing the desk as if it was ready to bite he warily approached, “Okay, let’s see what they’ve done.”

“Ringgg!!  Ring!  Ring!”  Adam stood to one side as he rang the bell call the children inside to start school.  Rather like a flood, the children poured through the door and scattered to their desks.  Dark and light, the Ingalls sisters, Laura and Mary, took the first row, of desks.  Their parents ran a popular eatery for the miners. The older, painfully thin Adaleya Evans, sat in the aisle seat next the sisters.  All three girls were staring at their new teacher, with many sighs and dreamy eyes. Behind them sat serious little Jimmy Kirk and his best friend Lenny McCoy.  Their parents held small, successful ranches near the City.  The blond haired, good looking, Donny Johnson was one of the last to sit down.  His Father owned the high class Virginia City Hotel and Palace Restaurant.  Donny adroitly avoided the loitering Ike Clantons’ attempt to trip him and slid into his seat across the aisle from the girls, the dark haired Phillip Thomas, his father ran the largest freighting company in the territory, was already seated, next to the windows.

Lenny reached out and pulled on the tempting blond braid of Adaleya.  She squawked and twisted in her seat, her hands flashed, and Lenny yipped in pain. Jimmy watched, wide eyed at his friends’ daring.  Boys seldom teased Adaleya; her Father was a Blacksmith and a retired wrestler.  Adaleya was his only child and well versed in self-defense.  Watching Lenny shake his hand and grimace, Adam figured that she could likely teach him a few tricks.  Ignoring the byplay, Donny was trying to catch the attention of Laura, but she ignored him, continuing to sigh and make calf eyes at her new teacher.  Next to him, Phillip was staring out the window at Sport. Phillip was crazy about horses. The boys’ wishes as he stared at Sport were writ plain on his face.

Behind Donny and Phillip, sat Eugene Autry, son of the Virginia City Brewmaster.  Father and son, they brewed some of the best beer in the territory.  Since beer didn’t ship well at all, it had to be made on site.  That made the Autrys one of the most influential families in Virginia City. Sitting next to Eugene was young Roland Rogers, just barely old enough for school.  He was the ‘new-kid’ in school. His family had just bought a small farm way out in the valley.

Adam made a note to himself to stop by and visit Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.  He remembered how it was, to be just starting out. Adam knew how his own father had to scrimp and save in order to pay for school.  Adam recognized the intensity he saw in Roland, the burning need to learn. Adam figured the Ponderosa always needed supplies, he would visit the Rogers Family and offer them some business.

Last to settle into their seats were the booby trap artists, the cousins, Billy Claiborne and Ike Clanton.   Frank Clanton, Ikes’ father, ran the ‘Bar C’ the second biggest spread in the territory next to the Ponderosa.  The formidable Mary Clanton, Ike’s mother, had brought Billy home when her sister’s family suffered a street accident in New York and left the young Billy as the only survivor.  Mary kept the boys on a tight leash, but the two of them together had developed a wild streak that was hard to stop.

Leaving the bell to swing in its frame by the door Adam paused for a moment, considering what to do about the two troublemakers. The traps set in his desk had really been very clever.  He needed to harness that energy.  He needed to establish his authority right away.  The teacher straightened up, squaring his shoulders,  “Mr. Clanton, Mr. Claiborne, come here please.”  The room quickly grew quiet, Ike and Billy hesitated, clearly nervous.  Adam pinned the boys with a bland stare, Hoss called it his ‘cat waiting at a mouse hole look’ silently, Adam crooked a finger.  Slowly, the boys came to stand in front of Adam.  The morning sun pouring in the windows was bright and cheerful. Adam, dressed in his customary black, stared at the boys, a silent forbidding figure. 

Donny scraped his foot across the floor, the girls, startled, jumped and squirmed in their seats.  Adam with one hand each, on Ike and Billy and drew them out the front door to the porch.  He beckoned them close, the boys. curious and scared leaned in as Adam began to talk.  The rest of the children strained to hear the low voiced conversation.  As they watched, their own curiosity grew.  Ike and Billy’s’ faces first turned white, from shock and fear as Adam talked, and then a sense of stunned anticipation.

Much subdued, the two troublemakers took their seats.  Adam, laughing inwardly, kept his face unreadable as he strode to the blackboard.  “Good Morning children, get out your Readers please, we will start with some English and Grammar.”  Billy and Ike jumped to open their books, while the rest of the children stared.  Adam picked up the blackboard pointer and rapped it on his desk.  As eleven pairs of young eyes swung to the front, Adam had a difficult time keeping his composure at the stunned looks on their faces.

“Miss Scott has given me her lesson plans . . . . Adaleya, Laura, Jimmy and Eugene all of you need work on your cursive writing, paper and pencils please, I want three pages of clean copy by lunchtime.  Roland, Jimmy and Leonard, you are to practice the alphabet. I want each of you to copy two clean pages and then I will hear each of you recite.  Mary, Alex, Phillip and Donny, I have corrected your essays.” The Teacher passed out the papers, as he continued, “you will rewrite them with the corrections and then I will hear you recite.”

“Ike and Billy since you have been absent so much, you each have a special assignment.”  The boys gulped, afraid that they would be given babies work.  Seeing their faces, the Teacher smiled wryly, “I want ten different points of consideration on how to select a mare to be put to the new Ponderosa stud, ‘Champion’.” Adam’s smile turned wicked, “I believe you boys had a chance to see the horse when you played hooky last week and snuck onto the Ponderosa.” 

The boys’ double take was classic, Curly had actually been the one who had spotted the duo and told Adam. The Foreman had left them alone, but watched, to see that they caused no trouble. Adam had approved, and now he congratulated himself on the timing and use of the information. His offense was clearly successful.  Now if only he could keep it up, these kids might actually learn something! “I want reasons to support each point and what kind of foal should result from the breeding.”  The Teacher paused, pinning the boys again with his glare, “And you will write it clearly and use proper sentences.”

The room was silent, as all the children stared; this was clearly not what they expected.

‘Crack!’

The Teacher rapped the side of his desk with the pointer,  “Get to work!”  The children jumped to obey. 

The morning sun traveled across the sky to the afternoon and Virginia City went about its daily business. The world for Adam was contained within the four walls of the School. It was not an easy thing, teaching three grade levels in one room.  Mary had a question about her essay rewrite.  Ike was clearly getting frustrated until Adam showed him how to rearrange his sentence structure. First little Roland, then Eugene and then Laura, had to use the outhouse, and Phillip kept mooning out the window at Sport until Adam took him aside proposed a deal.  After that, the budding young horseman finally applied himself to his assignment. Then Billy needed help, and then Adaleya, Adam felt like he was barely keeping abreast of a rushing stampede.

The Teacher was as relieved as the children were, when the steam whistle from the stamp mills that processed the ore from the Comstock sounded, signaling the noontime change of shifts.  “Alright, pencils down and pass your papers to the front.  Then you are free for lunch.”  Released the children grabbed their lunch pails and piled out into the afternoon sun.  Alone for the moment Adam rolled his shoulders, seeking to loosen the tension. He dropped into the bentwood chair at his desk with a huge sigh.  “And this is just the first day!” came the wry thought. 

Elbows on the desk the Teacher contemplated the room before him reviewing the morning.  Outside he could hear the rising babble of sound as the children began to release their pent up energy.  “I think I’ve made a good start.  Now I’d better keep going!”  Adam pulled out Hop Sings’ lunch and began to mark the stack of morning assignments.

“Is not!!”  Children’s voices were raised in argument. 

“Is so .. !”  Loud enough that Adam stopped grading papers.

“You take that back!!”  The noise level jumped, the sounds of a fight ensued.

Long strides took the Teacher from his desk to the door.  In his immediate sight was an empty yard.  The dust and noise was coming from behind the School where Sport was tied.  Adam rounded the corner to find that the combatants were Phillip and Eugene.  The rest of the children were in a circle urging them on.  Just beyond, Sport stood, head up, and ears forward, also an interested spectator.  Eugene was on top, grinding the remains of a jelly sandwich into his opponent’s dark hair.

Adam took a deep breath and waded in,  “Alright, break it up!”  He grabbed Eugene and pulled him erect, the boy came up swinging.

“Leggo!” Eugene’s arms windmilled in the air.  Adam had to shift quickly to avoid getting hit below the belt.  Phillip was slow getting up but there was murder in his eye.

“Phillip Michael Thomas, hold it right there!  Don’t you move!”  Adam’s voice cracked the air, threat and anger hovered over the yard, and all the children froze.  Hoss and Little Joe could have told them, but none of these children had ever before seen Adam’s temper.  Their teacher took a deep breath, his black scowl included everyone.

“What is this all about?”

“He said my Father was a southern sympathizer!”  Phillip accused, pointing at a sullen finger at Eugene.

Adams’ lips thinned, he knew that war in the South would be inevitable if Lincoln was elected next year. Most of Adam’s friends seemed to hope the slavery issue would just go away.  His own father had told him to leave well enough alone.  Adam thought his father was being short sighted, but he kept his own counsel.  However today required some action, Adam wasn’t about to let warfare break out in his own schoolyard.

“Repeating gossip and rumor is a bad thing to do.”  Adam set Eugene on his feet and hands on his hips, stared down at a gulping and suddenly anxious boy.  “It only brings more trouble.”

“Fist fighting is not the only way to defend your family.”  Adam swung to Phillip who was trying to achieve an air of injured pride.  Under the Teacher’s implacable stare the boys’ adolescent posturing wilted considerably.  The watching children traded glances, glad to be spared such attention.

“Now all of you, clean up this mess and get back inside.”  Adam’s gesture indicated the overturned benches and spilled lunches.  “You two,” indicating the combatants,  “Stay put.” Adam stood, arms folded, waiting, as the clean up was accomplished and the children filed quietly into the School.  Eugene stared at the ground. He scuffled his feet, beginning to think of what his father was going to say.  The Virginia City Brewmaster was a notorious penny pincher and he would be furious when his son came home in a torn shirt and dirty pants.  The cut over Phillip’s left eye had stopped bleeding, but obviously it was starting to hurt.  His own Father was no less strict and Phillip began to consider with dismay the extra chores he would be assigned as punishment for this fight. 

“Look at me.”  Adam commanded, slowly, both boys obeyed.  “I don’t really care who started this fight.”  His voice hard, their teacher continued, “Both of you will stay after school and you will take home notes to your parents, which I want signed and returned to me tomorrow.”  Adam had to control his own reactions to the boys’ identical looks of dismay. He had to stop this, and stop it now. “Both of you boys are old enough to know better.”  The teacher turned on Eugene, “Next time get some proof before you accuse someone, don’t go on the word of a drunken warehouse stockman.” 

Eugene’s eyes went wide, thinking, ‘How did he know?’

Glaring at Phillip, the teacher continued, “As for you, your Father runs one of the biggest Freight Lines in the Territory. He does business with all kinds of people.  He is also a retired deputy marshal. He therefore has strong opinions of how and when to fight,” Adam paused seeing that both boys were at last starting to think about consequences, he continued, “and fighting at school doesn’t qualify.”

Phillip swallowed convulsively, astonished and scared, ‘Pa was sayin’ just that at supper last night! How did he know?’

“Now both of you apologize and go clean up.”  The two boys slowly shook hands and headed for the water pump.  Teacher’s glance raked the school windows and young bodies hurriedly shifted away and back to their desks.  Adam turned to briefly check on Sport, and to hide his smile.  All those years of raising younger brothers were coming in handy.

Following the much subdued combatants, Teacher entered the School to find his students diligently flipping pages or working on their writing.  He walked slowly down the aisle between the desks, stopping briefly to correct Ike, who had his book upside down.  Adam sat down and was tempted to let the silence grow, but he judged that they’d had enough. 

“Ah-hum . .” The Teacher cleared his throat,  and was abruptly the focus of eleven pairs of eyes.  He let his expression soften, “this afternoon we will complete the recital of your mornings’ work.  Mary Ingalls will begin.”  The afternoon went quickly, and the children soon relaxed as Adam loosened the reins.  The whistle for the late afternoon shift sounded just as little Roland finished his ABC’s and was practicing writing his name on the blackboard.

“You have all done very well today.”  Adam smiled one of his rare full voltage smiles.   The girls were back to many sighs and dreamy eyes.  The boys, except for Phillip and Eugene were getting restless.  They were going to have to stay and they were starting to dread the possibilities.  

“Tomorrow will be arithmetic.  For your homework tonight each of you will complete a page of addition and subtraction from your workbooks.” There were many moans and groans.  “That’s enough . . .”  Teacher admonished sharply,  “Your parents paid good money for you to come to school and learn.  This is an opportunity to make your way with your mind and not just your back.” 

Adam paused to look at the eleven youngsters seated before him.  They were so young!  Their life adventure had barely begun.  Resolve rose within him, somehow he would catch their imaginations, get them excited about learning. “Look at them now, if I could just . . .”  mentally, Adam shook himself.

“Except for Phillip and Eugene, you are dismissed.”  The teacher concluded.

With many long looks of sympathy for the two detainees the children filed out.  As quiet fell, the two boys fidgeted in their seats.  Elbows on his desk, hands folded, Teacher watched them silently for a moment. 

“Alright you two,” the boys jumped at the sound of his voice.  “I want you to straighten up the school room, sweep the floor and clean the blackboard.  Then you may help me saddle Sport.”  Eugene and Phillip blinked, and breathed sighs of relief. “You’re not off the hook.” Adam said, hardening his voice. “I am still writing those notes to your parents.”  He had to stifle a laugh at the comical expressions on the boys’ faces.

The punishment didn’t take too long, even though Teacher made them do over a couple of spots. Then came the reward.  The boys were just big enough to handle Sport, and clearly delighted at the chance.  Adam supervised, tied on his saddlebags, and then handed over the notes.  The boys stood for a moment, papers in hand.

“Mr. Cartwright?”  Phillip’s voice cracked,  “I’m . . . I mean we …” he shot a desperate look at his partner.

“We’re glad that you came to teach.”  Eugene said, the words rushed.  Both boys’ faces were flushed, embarrassed.

Adam paused for a moment, he could see that the boys really meant what they said. “Thank you boys,” he admonished, “but this doesn’t mean I’ll let up.  I’m here to teach, and you’re here to learn.”

“Yes sir!”  The boys nodded vigorously, notes clenched in their hands.

“Alright now, get going, and remember your homework!”  Adam shouted at the boys as they ran off.

“Yes siirrrr . . . . .”

Adam turned with a sigh, absently scratching Sport.  The tall chestnut leaned into the caress.  “Well my boy the first day is done.” The Teacher told his horse, “and I have a lot of figuring to do.”  Putting foot to the stirrup, Adam swung aboard in one smooth motion.  Sport tossed his head as his rider gathered up the reins.  Adam cocked an eye toward the angle of the sun.  Supper would be over by the time he got to the ranch. He debated heading into the City for a drink.  It was tempting, but as a Teacher he had to maintain certain standards.  This wasn’t Harvard with it’s more liberal lifestyle.  Virginia City was growing, but still it was a very small town, with small town notions.  With a sigh Adam sent Sport down the road, promising himself a large brandy when he got home.

As he expected the Ranch Yard was dark and quiet.  On a working ranch, the day started early, the night came earlier, and the Hands didn’t linger after supper.  Adam sat easy in the saddle. Sport needed no guidance; the gelding headed straight for the barn.  Tom had left a night lantern hanging on the door and one more inside.  The windows of the bunkhouse were already dark.  The main house was dark too, except for the big San Francisco Lantern hanging over the front porch.  Its’ warm light mingled with the high country night creating a peaceful scene of welcome.  An owl spoke its’ question to the night. A hardy cricket answered from the woodpile by the kitchen door. 

Adam was glad of the quiet, on the ride home he had been doing some serious thinking.   He had an idea he wanted to try out with his father, a way to interest the children, a way to connect them with learning. Adam quickly and efficiently unsaddled Sport and gave him a rubdown.  He left his saddle and bridle draped over the partition of an empty stall.  With a smile he found the iron kettle of oat mash Tom had brewed and left setting out.  The gelding was happy to slurp up the treat.  In the next stall Buck opened a sleepy eye, shifted his weight and went back to his equine dreams.  However, Cochise and Chubb were craning their necks, noses sniffing, clearly hoping for treats too.  Adam laughed; he knew where Hoss kept his private stash.  He picked a wizened apple that his softhearted brother had snitched from Hop Sing’s larder and sliced it four ways with his pocketknife.  He passed out the portions giving each horse a good night pat and a scratch.

Adam blew out the lanterns and shut the doors, latching the now dark barn for the night.  Shifting the heavy saddlebags on his broad shoulder, he paused for a moment, taking in the cool night air.  There was no moon tonight.  The stars were bright jewels in the dark; they almost seemed close enough to touch.   Adam could easily pick out Orion the Hunter and the three stars of Orion’s’ belt.  The constellation was low in the sky, its appearance in the night a sure sign of the turn of the season and the coming winter.  It seemed to hang just over the roof of the Ranch House.

Adam’s footsteps were quiet as he crossed the yard; his breath hung in night air.  It was really getting cold.  He resolved that the brandy would be a warm one.  Slipping quietly in the front door, Adam set down the saddlebags and shrugged out of his coat.  The warmth of the house was welcome.  The damper on the great fireplace had been left cracked open, flickering flamelight filled the room. 

“It’s late son.” 

Adam dropped the night latch on the door and turned, unsurprised.  He had already caught a whiff of Ben’s tobacco.  His father sat, comfortably at ease before the fire, a snifter of brandy at his side.

“Hop Sing left a plate for you, in the warmer in the kitchen.”

“Thanks Pa.”  Adam disappeared into the kitchen and brought his tray out to the great room and sat down by the fire.  His father handed him another brandy, nicely warmed.  With a smile of appreciation Adam took a slow drink, the liquid traced a welcome fire down to his belly.  He applied himself to his food, tender slices of turkey, roast tubers and late season carrots.

Ben quietly watched his eldest son. Both men enjoyed the silence. The firelight cast dancing shadows across Adam’s long legged form. The flames hissed and crackled as they consumed the wood.  His eldest son finished the food and pulled off his boots to warm his feet at the fire.

“Pa, you didn’t have to wait up.” Adam said quietly, the shadows in the room hooded his eyes.  Nonetheless he was glad to have this chance to talk things over with his father.

“I wanted to hear how the first day went.” Ben replied.

“Well Pa, pretty good, considering.  However I have an idea I’d like to try out.”

>>>>>Bonanza<<<<<<

(Early Evening Two Weeks Later)

“Sooo boy, take it easy now.” Hoss ran his big hand down the geldings’ leg, checking for heat and swelling. Adam’s night horse, Sate, had picked up a bad stone bruise in his right foot. Hoss had brought the animal into the barn for some care. Sate was a big rangy mustang, caught two years ago from a wild horse herd. The animal was coal black and mean, but with the senses and instincts of a wild thing. This made him an excellent night horse on cattle drives, despite his temper. . . Joe had named the animal. . . Adam didn’t argue at the picking . . . he had walked stiff legged for a week, after breaking Sate to ride. However, Adam counted the horse well worth the effort. Few animals on the Ponderosa could match the black mustang for staying power.

Hoss had Sate crosstied to restrain his head and had run a heavy bar across the stall, trapping the mustang against the side of the stall. This made it safer for Hoss to enter and work on Sates’ feet. The mustang rolled his eyes and flattened his ears, but he did raise his foot when Hoss asked.

“So boy, the truth is you just like to argue for the sake a’ arguin’” Hoss worked quickly cleaning the swollen flesh inside the foot. “You an’ Adam are a good match!” Chuckling, Hoss finished the job by packing it with a sweet smelling salve. Sate trembled under his hand and tried to kick, his weight landed hard against the restraining bar.

“You onery cuss!” Hoss laughed. The big man was amazingly quick for his size and was already out of reach. Sate shook his head in the restraining ropes and bared his big yellow teeth. His neigh was more like panthers’ growl. Across the floor the Barn’s regular occupants, Buck, Cochise and Chubb all sounded off in reply.

“You lot settle down!” Hoss told them, to little effect. In the yard outside, Sport’s voice joined the chorus. Hoss was glad to hear that Adam was home early for once. Between the two of them it would be much easier to get Sate out to the corral for the night.

“Hoss, what’s going on?” Adam came walking in, leading Sport.

“That onery mustang a’ yorn picked up a sharp stone and cooked up a dandy infection in his foot. So I had Curly help me bring him in.” Hoss replied.

Sate tried to cow kick the side of his stall when he saw Adam and Sport. The tall chestnut eyed the rangy mustang with disdain. He flicked his tail and quietly went into his own stall. Sate lunged against his restraints. The brothers laughed at the byplay between the two horses.

“Come on, let’s get this cranky critter out to the corral.” Adam said. Between the two of them Sate had no chance to act up, although he tried. Given more room and some sweet hay and dried apples, the mustang was at last peacefully settled into the corral outside.

Hoss followed his brother back into the barn. “Say Adam, I saw Mrs. Clanton in town today.” Hoss pitched in to help as Adam stripped Sport of his saddle and gear. Adam silently handed over some rags; the brothers each took a side and gave Sport a thorough rubdown. The gelding stretched and rumbled deep in his chest in pleasure at the attention.

“I saw Mrs. Clanton at the General Store.” Hoss repeated, “We wuz both getting’ supplies. She asked about you.”

“What did she say?”

“Weal,” Hoss drawled, working with long sure strokes on the gelding’s forequarters, “She wanted to know what kind a hoo doo you’d put on her boys.”

Adam was working on Sports hindquarters, he stopped in surprise resting a hand on the chestnut’s back, to stare at his brother. “What’s a hoo doo?”

“Auw Adam you know what I mean.” Hoss replied as he continued working. “Missus Clanton says that her boys have been on their best behavior for two weeks now. They’re doin’ their chores and mindin’ her and Frank an’ even doin’ homework!” Hoss finished with Sport by checking the gelding’s feet. “Granny Jean was there too, sellin’ some of her herbs.” Hoss said, “She thinks you put a spell on ‘em.”

Adam laughed softly as he finished his side of Sport and went to scratch the animal’s favorite spot. The horse blew out a contented sigh, his eyes half closed in pleasure.

“I know that laugh Older Brother.” Hoss accused with a smile, “What trick have you pulled off now?”

“What ever gave you that idea?” Adam was the picture of wounded innocence but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

“I knew it. Dadburnit,“ Hoss asserted, seeing the twinkle. “What did you do?”

Adam delayed answering as he gave Sport a final pat and put away the cleaning rags and brushes. Hoss stood, feet planted, arms crossed, immovable intent, waiting for an answer. Adam eyed his biggest brother with affection. Hoss wasn’t the quickest wit, but he had the patience to arrive at the truth in the end.

“I made a deal.” Adam said, as he gave Sport his allotment of feed. Hoss waited.

“I promised them a trip to Miss Lola’s at the end of the school term.”

“What!!” Sport jerked his head up in startlement at Hoss’s bark of laughter, “That’s the most expensive Cathouse in Virginia City!”

With a reassuring pat to the chestnut, Adam took down the lantern and doused the flame. “That first day, I caught them setting booby traps in my desk. I figured that I needed a powerful motivator to get them to behave.”

Chuckling, Hoss followed Adam out into the evening light outside and began swinging the barn doors closed. “Well that there would sure do the trick.”

Side by side the Cartwright brothers crossed the yard to the main house. Adam punched Hoss in the shoulder. “Don’t you dare tell anyone. That was part of the deal.”

“Why?”

“I promised the trip, but if the boys told . . . the deal was off.”

“Oh Adam, that’s pure dee’ mean!” Hoss laughed.

“So you can’t tell either!” Adam ordered, with a wicked grin.

Hands up in surrender Hoss laughed. “What ever you say Teacher!”

<<<<<<< Bonanza>>>>>>

RIGHT IS THE FOURTH ‘R’
The fight scene and aftermath

Adam found himself wishing that the Schoolhouse had a back door.

It was obvious what his three visitors wanted.  He stood slowly, rapidly thinking, how he might get past them and out the front.

Stalling for time he picked up the lamp and slowly moved to the front of his desk.

“Gentlemen, can I help you?”  He raised the light hoping to recognize one of them.

The three toughs snickered, “We’re here to help you, teacher.” The man in front, wearing a blue shirt sneered, “A lesson on how to mind your betters!”

The men were crowded together in the middle aisle between the desks.  It was close quarters, giving Adam an edge. The toughs’ couldn’t easily gang up on their victim. Adam had moved as far as he could from his desk, the only open area, then he threw the lamp at blue shirt’s head.  The man ducked, stumbling back into the others.  The lamp flew out the window.  In the darkness Adam ran for the right aisle and the door. 

With a snarl of rage one of the men regained his feet and leapt across the school desks, striking Adam in a flying tackle.  The two of them hit the wall with a crash that shook the building.  Desperately, Adam wrestled to get free.  A hand came down and pulled him up.  He struck, heard the satisfying impact, one dark form fell away.  Threat loomed behind him, Adam ducked, felt the wind of a strike, his opponent missed.  Adam didn’t, he grabbed with both hands, tossing the man over his shoulder and onto the desks. Again the building shook.

The front door was open. The gentle glow from the yard light beckoned. Adam turned and was struck from behind.  Stars flashed in his brain, darkness swooped close, and he was grabbed and held.  The blows fell, quarters were still too close, only one man at a time could get to him.  Adam rolled with the punches; trying to clear his head and find an opening. He leaned back, bracing his weight on the man who held him; Adam shifted his feet and kicked. 

“Auggh!!”  Came the howl of rage.  Wrestling himself free Adam turned and struck at the dark shape behind him.  He rolled his shoulder and struck with all the power he had, there was the solid sound of an axe hitting wood.  His opponent fell; Adam saw the light and staggered toward the door.  His ears roared, the room pitched sideways, he grabbed the doorframe to try and save himself. 

The next thing Adam knew, his cheek was grinding into the boards of the school’s front porch.  His mind screamed to get up, but his body could only lie there.  He could hear the hollow booming sound of footsteps; they crashed and echoed in his brain.  Then the dark ocean finally rose up and swept him away.

Sheriff Roy Coffee sauntered slowly down the street.  It was his last turn around the City before bed.  His deputy, Clem, was already back at the office, ready to take over for the night.  It was a quiet Friday night for once.  He stopped by the Silver Dollar Saloon to pass some time with Sam the bartender. 

The batwing doors flapped shut behind him as Sam called out.

“Howdy Roy, how’s it going?”  Sam set down the glass he was polishing and turned to pull a beer for the Sheriff.

“Pretty quiet tonight Sam.”  Roy leaned against the bar, resting his foot on the brass railing.  Taking a sip Roy turned to watch the desultory card game going on at the corner table.  Tom Faro, the house gambler was playing with two young cowhands off the Ponderosa.  Minnie, the only girl working tonight, was draped over Tom’s shoulder,  an inviting display of bosom provided the required distraction.

“Looks like Ben’s going to have to talk to those two boys.” Roy said.

“Aww now Roy, you wouldn’t tell. I have to make a living.”  Sam complained.

Roy laughed, finished his beer and turned to resume his patrol. His footsteps echoed on the boards of the sidewalk.  At the turn of B Street was the schoolyard. Behind the building he could see Sport, still tied up, but the school was dark.  Worry blossomed; Roy stepped off the sidewalk to cross over to the school.  Then he saw the dark form stretched out on the porch.  His footsteps’ quickened,  “Adam . . . ?!”

Roy found Adam bloodied, beaten and out cold, the inside of the school a broken shambles.  He hustled back to the corner of B Street to shout at the swamper cleaning off the sidewalk in front of the Bucket of Blood Saloon.  “Trent, run and get the Doc! Bring him to the school.”

Lights came on up and down the street in response to the Sheriff’s shout. Heads popped out to look, hearing the swamper’s running footsteps. A slow Friday night in Virginia City had just come to a screeching halt.

“Ohhh . . .”  Adam groaned. The world slowly came back as he woke up in the infirmary on Doc Martins’ couch. 

“Easy there boy,” came the doctor’s voice.

“Oww!”  Adam felt the sting of the iodine. He opened his eyes trying to hold back the nausea at the overwhelming smell.  He struggled to sit up.

“Adam lay back.”  Doctor Martin ordered.

A wave of anger rushed through him. Using the energy, Adam lurched to his feet. “I don’t have time Paul.”  Adam braced his feet waiting for the room to settle.

“Be reasonable son,” said Roy coming in from the front room.  Behind him Adam could hear the voices of the curious onlookers. 

“But I’m not reasonable Roy.”  Adam rasped,  “People have been telling me so for days.”  Adam shouldered past the Sheriff, “Where’s my horse?”  The only thing he wanted now was to get home.

“Adam!” Roy protested, “Wait just a gol’ darn’ minute!” he followed Adam out to the doctor’s front porch.  “I sent word out to the Ranch. Wait for your Father and brothers.”  The curious crowd parted.

Still angry, Adam spotted one of the Ponderosa hands, one of the card players, “Billy, get my horse!”  The young puncher ran to obey.

“Adam!” Doctor Martin followed them out; his hands still full of bandages.

Adam swung on his friends; his eyes black and glittering with rage. “I’ve been put upon for days, and it makes no sense!  All I wanted to do is to teach a history course! But I have had to fight lies and rumor every step of the way. . .  Well now this has gone too far!” 

Billy rode up on his cow pony, Sport, saddled and excited, pranced sideways on a lead behind him.  The crowd cleared, to make way for the horses.  Billy brought Sport next to the porch so his Boss could mount. Nodding his gratitude, Adam swung aboard. Roy saw him land abruptly in the saddle and turn pale.

The Sheriff moved to try and stop him.  Roy turned when Doctor Martin put a hand on his shoulder shaking his head.  Hoofbeats sounded in the dark, Ben Cartwright, Hoss and Little Joe rode up.  Billy’s partner, Bobby, the other Ponderosa hand from the card game had been sent out to the Ranch.  Bobby had met the Family already on the road. They had been worried that Adam was late and with trouble in the town; they had already been on the way.  Billy edged his pony over to the side to fill in his partner on the latest.  The crowd of onlookers hugged the side of the clearing, reluctant to leave. The Cartwrights could always be counted on for a good rowdy story.

Taking in the scene, Ben urged Buck forward. “Roy! Paul!, what happened!”  Hoss and Joe, wary, hung back and eased Chubb and Cochise apart, to keep an eye on things.

Adam at last aware of the crowd, turned Sport, “I’m alright Pa. Let’s just get home.”  Protective, Hoss and Joe closed in behind Adam.

Eyeing his eldest, the bruises on his face and the stiff way he sat the saddle, Ben was dubious.  “Take your boy home Ben,” Roy said, “I’ll be out in the morning to get a report.”  Ben turned to look at his friend Dr. Martin. 

“He’ll be alright Ben.” said the doctor.

Setting his heels to Sport, Adam led the way, while his brothers closed in behind him. Grateful for their silent support, Adam took deep breaths of the night air, seeking to clear his head.  Worried, Ben turned Buck to  follow.

“All right folks go on home, there’s nothing more to see here!”  The Sheriff said.

The crowd split up to return to their beds in the City.  Roy delayed to talk briefly with Dr Martin.  Both men knew that the gossip mill would be working overtime.  This affair wasn’t finished. . . . . . .

Moonlight washed the trail leading to the Ponderosa. Lifting Buck to a ground-eating lope, Ben Cartwright followed his three sons on the road home. Billy and Bobby, the two Ponderosa Ranch Hands, trailed along behind Ben. The waning moon was low on the horizon. The silver disc seemed to rest, just above the grasp of the black cutouts of the High Sierras.

In front of Ben, Hoss and Little Joe, rode side by side. Leading the way was Adam. His father could see that his eldest appeared to be riding easily enough. But Adam would never admit to being hurt unless he was flat on his back and out of his head with fever. Ben was grateful that at least things weren’t that bad . . . yet.

The miles passed quickly enough since all six horses were eager for the trail. The animals knew the road, and knew that it led to food and a warm stall. Their passage rang loud in the silver dark, ringing hoofbeats were echoed back to them by the silent forest. A busy pair of raccoons paused just inside a screen of bushes. Their eyes gleamed in the moonlight; sharp snouts tested the air as the men rode past. High up on a ridge a lone wolf stopped to listen, hearing the men down below. Satisfied that their business didn’t include him, the animal flicked his tail and faded into the night.

At last Ben spotted the gleam of lights, through the black pillars of the trees. Normally dark at this time of night, the Ponderosa blazed with welcome, Hop Sing’s work; Ben had no doubt that the faithful man had everything ready. The bunkhouse was alight as well, as the ranch hands waited for word. The Ponderosa was it’s own self-contained community; what affected one, affected all.

As they swept into the yard, Bobby urged his cowpony up next to Ben. “Mr. Cartwright, you and the boys see to Adam. Billy an’ I ‘ell take care of the horses.”

“Thank you.” Ben said, gratefully. He sent Buck over to the hitching rail where Adam had stopped Sport. Little Joe had already vaulted off Cochise and was headed into the house yelling for Hop Sing. Hoss stood nearby, watchful and waiting for Adam to dismount. Adam cast a weary look of amusement at his father and Hoss.

“If you two don’t stop mother henning me, I’ll go back to town.” Adam said.

Ben took a look at Hoss’s expression, “Son I don’t think that you’d get very far.”

“Dadburnit Adam, quit jawin’ and git down off that critter.” Hoss wasn’t amused. His family had been attacked, Hoss wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

Seeing the look on his brothers’ face, Adam did as he was told. Ben could see that while his eldest wasn’t moving with his usual ease, that he appeared to be all right. Although from the lines around his eyes, his father suspected that Adam had a fierce headache.

“Come on,” Ben rested a hand on Adam’s shoulder, “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

Hoss nodded to Billy and Bobby as they came up for the horses. “Thanks boys. An you ‘kin tell Curly he’s to take care ‘a things for a day or so.” Hoss turned to watch his father and brother slowly walk into the house, “I have a feelin’ we’re gonna be busy for a spell.”

“Sure thing Hoss.” Said Bobby. Billy went to meet the Ranch Foreman, who was already coming up from the bunkhouse.

“Thanks again boys.” Hoss waved an acknowledgment to Curly and went to join his family.

>>>>>Bonanza<<<<<
The Truth is revealed

Barbara stood before the great fireplace in the main room of the Ponderosa Ranch House.  Despite the warmth of the fire, she was cold.  She hugged herself close.

“I won’t cry, I won’t!” she told herself fiercely.  Adam had just left, taking Indian Charlie out, to let him bed down in the barn.  The man’s story had was proof of the truth she and Adam had been seeking. Why the opposition to teaching a simple history course? Adam’s research had indicated a reason but they had no proof. Until the Indian stepped forward with the truth. A truth that someone connected to her Uncle had sought to hide, a truth for which Adam had suffered a beating and threats on his life.

“I wish that I’d never come West!”  Yet at the same time Barbara knew the thought wasn’t true.  She would cherish forever the memories of her time with Adam Cartwright.  Memories were now all she could have.  Any chance of developing a closer attachment was gone.  The story of the massacre and Charlie’s survival, would have to come out and her Uncle was going to need her help.

Bootheels rang on the boards of the porch outside.  The paneled front door opened and closed, letting in a brief draft of cold air.  In the fireplace, the flames leapt in response;  the only sound in the big room was the ticking of the big cabinet clock.  In the silence Barbara closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“Barbara . . .”  that warm cultured baritone was close behind her.

“Ohh! . . .”  Barbara jumped; he was part of the darkness, silent, like a cat.  Strong hands rested on her shoulders.  She turned into his embrace.  Palms resting on his broad chest, Barbara inhaled his scent, a curious mixture of bayrum, horse and now iodine.  All her resolutions flew out the window; she wanted to take Adam then and there, heedless of the consequences.  Shocked at the urge, Barbara trembled under his hands. 

Adam placed a gentle hand under her chin.  “Look at me Barbara.”  The wide blue eyes now brimming with tears made his heart skip a beat.  He suddenly found that without his realizing it, in these past weeks that this woman had found the way past his defenses.  Adams’ voice was barely a whisper, “I’m so sorry, if I hadn’t been so stubborn . . .”

Barbara put her hand out to stop the flood of apologies  “The story would have surfaced sooner or later.”  She briefly let her hand caress the strong line of his jaw, lightly fingering the bruises that marked his cheek.  She turned away, thus missing the look of raw need in his eyes.  Barbara perched on the table, in front of the fire, hugging her knees close. Her long tawny colored hair spilled down her back, it made her look sixteen.  Adam felt his heart hesitate, as his body responded with desire for this wise, child woman.  He turned away, staring into the dark, the long night was beginning to take its toll. His breath was short as he struggled for control.

Barbara stared into the fire, until the flames blurred in her sight. The only other light in the room came from the office alcove. The cherry light of the lamp showed that the big desk was covered with papers, maps and books, evidence of their research.  The overflow was stacked on an extra chair and the nearby table.  “If only I hadn’t been so stubborn. It’s all my fault.” Adam could hear the irony in her voice.

“Barbara, . . . no!”  Adam protested to the dark, he turned back.

“Oh yes it is. For over a year I pestered him.  I wanted my Uncle to bring me West.  I wanted be to where he had been when he was young.” Barbara laughed a short bitter laugh.  “Now I understand why he was so reluctant.”

“I can stop teaching the course.  We don’t have to tell.”  Having just realized his feelings Adam didn’t want to lose her.  He was there in the dark, standing next to her by the fire, his long body outlined in flame.

“Adam, I wish it was that simple.”  Barbara said, “But I think that whoever paid those men to attack you isn’t going to stop now. And that man out in the barn, that Indian, he trusts you to do what’s right for the memory of his tribe. So his people can rest in peace. Only you can do that.”  She turned to grab his hand, looking up at him; her eyes were wide in the flickering light.  Adam felt as if she could see right into his soul. “My Uncle is a dear, but he tends to be a bit of an ostrich.  He’ll ignore a problem and hope it goes away.  Sometimes it does, but then the trouble will some day return, even worse, for being ignored.” Barbara held his hand close. “You’re not like that, it’s one of the things I love so much about you.”

Adam sank to the table, she leaned willingly into his kiss,  “Barbara . . .”  He shifted, to deepen the embrace and was caught by a bright flash of pain from his bruised ribcage.  She felt him hesitate and broke off.

“Oh I’m sorry did I . . .”

“No it doesn’t hurt . . .”

“Adam . . .”  Sitting by the fire, she took his hands and kissed them, slowly, tenderly.  “We both know that now is not the right time.”  Barbara said softly.

“Time!”  He turned away, abruptly struck by an all too familiar heartache.  “If you only knew how tired I am of it never being the right time!”

Struck silent by the pain in his voice, Barbara could say nothing.  Adam was sitting between her and the fire, staring blind eyed into the flames. She saw him as all darkness and shadows.  She could feel the dark heat of the lonely years in his voice.

 His words came in short harsh, gasps,  “People think I’m cold and unfeeling.  They couldn’t be more wrong!”  All his inner walls were tumbling down, Adam felt as if he were caught in an avalanche.  “I can help other people and they go away happy. . . But what about my happiness!”  He took a bitter breath and struggled to regain control, but was caught short by another knife slice of pain in his side, while a knot of fire began to blossom in his left temple.  He struggled to rise, to try and get away before he completely fell apart.  Habit developed over all the long years, it was something he had never let anyone see.

“Adam!”  Barbara stopped him, he was wobbling, the long frustrating days and now the beating at last taking its toll. Her arms embraced him; she was crying the tears he couldn’t.  Her sympathy and open caring at last struck down the final barriers.  Adam fell into her arms, and clung to her strength.  Barbara could taste the salt of her own tears. She could feel him trembling in reaction, she held him close, in wordless comfort.

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the big clock and the hiss and mutter of the fire.  Outside in the night, the wind began to rise, whistling under the eves of the roof.  In the yard, an owl could be heard as it spoke its’ question to the dark.  Over in the office alcove, the lamp on the desk, sputtered and died, having used up all its’ fuel.  The shadows in the night grew and moved closer to the pair by the lowering fire.

Adam felt empty, and drained, as if an ocean tide had left him stranded, on a foreign shore. All his aches and pains were gone. Barbara had held her ground working a women’s magic, while he had been swimming in deep dark waters. He shifted, so he could see her face.  Barbara’s eyes were wide, her face solemn as she stared into the dark.  Adam wondered what she saw.  His hand reached out to slowly trace her brow, her cheeks, her lips. She came back to him, and they kissed, slowly, sweetly.

Barbara smiled to herself in quiet amazement at how events had turned. She felt so comfortable, so right in Adam’s arms. She leaned into the embrace; she could feel the slow steady beat of his heart. Abruptly the sounds of Hoss, snoring lustily, rang out in counterpoint. She chuckled, in spite of everything.

"What's so funny?" Adam murmured against her neck.

"Hoss' snoring. They can probably hear it in Virginia City."

Adam smiled, white teeth flashed in the flickering dark. "Pa and Joe wouldn't hear a cannon fired from the front porch with Hoss snoring like that. He’ll quit after awhile."

Barbara wasn’t really hearing him, Adam's mouth was so near, the previous kisses so sweet, she couldn't resist. She leaned forward and skimmed his lips with her own. In reply, Adam's mouth came down hard on hers. Claiming her in the age old dance.

The kisses trailed up her cheek, until his mouth found the pulse that beat just under her ear, tasting it with his tongue before his teeth nipped at her earlobe, sending soft shivers down her spine. Emboldened, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, loosening them one by one. She gently touched the bruises on his

chest and over his ribs. Her lips followed, as if to kiss away all evidence of hurt.

His pulse beginning to race, Adam gently reached down, his hands cupped her face, his eyes sought hers. He didn't speak, only looked at her. Barbara's heart was pounding. Wrapping his arms around her, Adam lifted her off the table, crushing her to his hard frame. Her fingers were in his hair, her hands were on his skin. She longed to get closer. "Barbara, are you sure...?" Adam whispered against her fawn colored hair. He gathered it up and the long strands ran like silk in his hands.

"Yes, Adam. I'm sure."

Making a long reach, he cleared the table and set her down.

"OH, Adam..." she whispered in awe.

"Barbara, you don't know how much this means..." Adam whispered into her hair. In the fireplace, flame flared up; having found fresh fuel.

Spent at last, Adam came to rest, he opened his eyes, amazed to find the great room of the Ponderosa unchanged. Within himself Adam felt that the stone steady foundations of his life were altered. The fire bred woman in his arms smiled in purest satisfaction. Was this the fire Prometheus brought to man? If so, Adam understood at last Zeus’ wrath. Adam wasn’t inexperienced, but what Barbara brought, the sweet endless giving, filled his needs beyond words. Slowly he settled Barbara on his lap.

Entwined together the couple rested. The shadows in the great room of the Ponderosa seemed to gather close in approval. The flames in the great stone fireplace grew low. Outside in the night, the dark shapes of the forest stood still, even the wind was resting.

“Ahhgg, snuffle, gorp” A lusty snore from Hoss rattled the air.

In his arms Barbara started to tremble, after a moment Adam realized that she was laughing. Adam’s own quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, so much for epiphany. With much stifled laughter they sorted out the clothing.

“Adam. . .”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know about you, but the fire needs some wood. I’m getting cold.”

“Who would have guessed! A practical woman!”  Adam teased.  With practiced ease he selected some short rounds of willow wood that would catch quickly. He backed that up with a large piece of locust, it was a hard, dense wood that burned slow and hot.  Satisfied with the fire Adam turned to find that Barbara had moved to the settee.  She sat with her legs curled up beneath her skirts.  She was leaning against one of the throw pillows.  She looked comfortable. She looked like she belonged.

Barbara saw him looking; he wasn’t going to make this easy. He stood there, his dark form bathed in flamelight, his face so open. Barbara took a slow breath.

“Adam?”

He sat down next to her, eyes questioning.

“After tonight, do you think that anything could truly separate us?”

He took a breath to answer but she raised a hand to stop him. 

“It’s still up to us to make things right.”  Barbara said solemnly.

Adam sat back, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t know what she was saying.  He closed his eyes, steeling himself, but he found that the expected bitterness was gone.  A small hand reached out for his.  He took it and held on. 

“You’ve got more courage and dedication than most men.”  Adam said wonderingly.  “It won’t be easy,” he continued, forcing himself to consider, “Somehow we have to make people care about a deception and a massacre, that is decades old.” He trailed off, a part of him unwilling to go further. Wordless for once, Barbara agreed.

Outside, the rising wind muttered, holding it’s own conversation. Upstairs, Hoss was quiet; he’d shifted in his sleep and stopped snoring. The ticking of the big cabinet clock rang loud in the dark. Shadows from the fire danced on the whitewashed walls, the flames hissed in response to the wind tugging at the eves of the great ranch house.

The couple on the settee sat close together for warmth and comfort. Barbara was drowsy; she felt full, purring and satisfied as a cat. She curled up against Adam and savored the slow steady beat of his heart. The rise and fall of his breath was easy and even. For Adam it was hard to concentrate, the scent of her danced through his mind opening doors he’d long thought closed. The flames crackled and danced in the great fireplace converting the wood into heat and light. Adam felt similar changes happening in his heart; from now on things would be different.

Upstairs a door opened, footsteps came to the head of the stairs. Ben Cartwright’s sharp eyes took in the scene as he walked down the stairs. Arms around the drowsy Barbara, Ben’s eldest son calmly met the gaze of his father. Ben blinked and abruptly changed what he was going to say.

“Son . . . you two have been working hard. Perhaps you should call it a night get some rest.” Ben waited.

“You’re right Pa.” Adam drew Barbara to her feet.

“Mr. Cartwright I . . “ Barbara was waking up, Adam whispered in her ear; she gave him a sharp questioning look.

“Go on . . .” Adam smiled, encouraging . . .

Ben watched, as the girl gave his son a radiant smile, Ben Cartwright restrained his comment. He knew that all his sons were active with women, but right here? Seeing his thunderous expression Barbara shot Ben a wary look.

Adam interposed himself, shielding her from Ben’s glare, “It’s all right Barbara.” He soothed. She didn’t know yet that his fathers’ bark was worse than his bite. Reluctant to let go, Barbara took a step, still hesitant, then with more resolve she squared her shoulders.

“Good night Mr., Cartwright.” She said softly.

Adam was still holding her hand; he let her go with a tender kiss. Gracefully, Barbara picked up her shoes, her long hair glistened in the firelight, her skirts sweeping the floor, she padded off into the dark. The shadows of the room, seemed to part around her in welcome. Ben and Adam, father and son, stood watching her go. The guest bedroom door opened, revealing the tiny glow of a night candle, and closed again. The dark returned, seeming to hold its’ breath.

Bemused, Ben turned to his son, Adam was smiling. Watching his eldest, Ben’s anger fled, he cocked an eyebrow, waiting. For a long moment, Adam stared into the shadows savoring the memory of Barbara in his arms. She had swept through his heart, opening up all the dusty chambers. Barbara knew the odds were against them as a couple, but she didn’t care. Adam had to honor such courage.

The fire sparked and popped, a shower of sparks jumped up. In the flare of light Adam turned to his father. What Ben saw made his heart jump, Adam saw the hope in his father’s eyes and held up a cautionary hand.

“It’s a little complicated Pa.”

Ben sank down to sit on the hearth. The flames jumped, a log split apart. With his sons it was always complicated.

“I’ll tell you everything we discovered.” Adam sank to the table, a smile quirked his lips as he caressed the heavy boards. His father watched, keeping his own counsel.

“Then I have a favor to ask.”

<<<<<<Bonanza>>>>>>

Fini

Marcia Lee, October Ninth 2001

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