OBLIGATIONS AND BONDS
By Meira Bracha
October 2002
This story takes place around 1866. It is a prequel to my series
of stories Loss and Legacy, Responsibilities, and The Legacy That Matters.
I wish to express my appreciation to Becky Sims, who
agreed that while Adam has to deal with a similar problem both in this story
and her incredible Promises series (read it if you haven’t!), they are separate,
independent and very different stories. Becky was gracious enough to
read this story in advance of its original posting.
To some extent, this is a “What Happened Next” for the
episode Triangle, written by Frank Cleaver. Allusions are also made
to the episodes The Savage by Larry Chance and Paul King and The Hayburner
by Alex Sharp. I do not own the characters in this story.
Adam held Sport to a slow pace as horse and rider eased their way down the
switchbacks leading from the lumber camp in the mountains. He needed
these last few hours away from his family to make his final decision.
Nearly a month spent leading a crew of men cutting timber to fulfill the Ponderosa’s
latest lumber contract had answered some of his questions, but not always
exactly as he might have hoped.
He had proven to anyone who may have doubted, including himself, that he
was again capable of sustained heavy labor. He had sawed and lifted
and pushed and pulled, providing an additional strong back and arms wherever
and whenever needed, in addition to supervising the whole operation.
But it had been well over a year since he had performed this kind of work
and he was forced to admit to himself that all was not as it had been before.
Tasks that he once could have performed effortlessly now required forethought
and caution. He found that he needed to give careful consideration to
how he moved: bending his knees before lifting heavy objects, avoiding sudden
twisting motions, etc. Despite the care he was taking, pain and stiffness
were constant companions. It was nearly impossible to find a comfortable
position in which to sleep, and it took a long time every morning to stretch
out enough of the kinks so he could tackle a new day’s labors.
Still, it felt like a miracle that he had come this far. That long-ago
afternoon when he had struggled to rise from his wheelchair and walk, in order
to demonstrate to Laura Dayton that she need not remain with him out of pity
or obligation, had seemed like a fluke. In the weeks and months to
follow, progress had come in very small, incremental steps. It
had been weeks before he could even climb the stairs to his room unaided,
months before he could mount and sit a horse. His dogged determination
to force himself to full recuperation stemmed in part from his need to preoccupy
himself so thoroughly that he could push the whole experience with Laura to
the back of his mind.
Now he suspected he had come as far as he could. There seemed to be
no way to eliminate the painful remaining symptoms of a broken back.
He assumed that he had only a limited number of years in which he could perform
prolonged physical labor, which made the decision with which he was wrestling
a matter of now or never. And so he made up his mind. When his
steep descent ended at one of the broad roads that traversed the Ponderosa,
Adam nodded to himself, clenched his jaw, and urged Sport into a gallop back
to the ranch house.
…..…
Ben watched through his bedroom window as the sun set over the Sierras.
Despite the fact that he had seen it countless times before, a small thrill
ran through him as he took in the glorious sight. He marveled yet again
that he had achieved what he had first dreamed of nearly forty years ago:
a ranch in the west, on pristine, sparsely inhabited land, where he could
be his own master and raise a family who would inherit his legacy.
But what high prices had been paid for his achievement! His first
wife died following the birth of his first child. His second wife was
killed on the dangerous journey west, leaving an infant son behind her.
He had persevered and staked out a claim for himself in what was now the
western reach of the Territory of Nevada. In time he had built this
fine house and married again. His third wife had given him yet another
son, and was helping him raise all three boys when she died as the result
of a tragic accident.
Over the years the Cartwrights had repeatedly been forced to pay with sweat
and blood to hold on to and build up the Ponderosa. There had been fights
with local Indians, whose grievances had mostly been with other settlers,
though Ben was honest enough with himself to admit that even his relatively
benign presence did not really benefit the native population, despite his
best efforts to maintain friendly relations. The family also had run-ins
with outlaws of various sorts, including unscrupulous miners, cattle rustlers,
and ordinary thieves who were encouraged and emboldened by the remoteness
of the location to attempt to reap unearned profit from the bounty of the
Ponderosa. All the Cartwright men had faced life-and-death encounters
defending their home.
Ben appreciated each of his sons and was not in the habit of judging their
hard work and sacrifices in comparison with one another. But this evening
his thoughts were focused on his oldest. Adam missed out on a mother’s
care for his first five years and a permanent home for even longer.
Twice he had lost loving stepmothers. Instead of being allowed to grieve
for them and be comforted by his father, both times he had been thrust into
the role of surrogate parent at too young an age. When Hoss’s mother
Inger had died, coping with the hardships of the trail had occupied both Ben’s
and Adam’s attention. When Marie, Joseph’s mother, died, Ben’s own
grief had been so profound that it was a long time before he could provide
solace for any of his three sons. Except for when he was away at school,
Adam had been his father’s advisor, sounding board and hard worker since he
was little more than a child.
Ben had long been aware that Adam was not entirely content on the Ponderosa.
While Adam’s homecoming after college had been a joyous occasion for the whole
family, Ben knew that his eldest was fulfilling what he felt was an obligation
rather than making an entirely heartfelt choice to come home. Since
passing down the ranch to all of his sons was such an integral part of Ben’s
dream, he had chosen to ignore the possible ramifications of Adam’s restlessness.
Ben believed that once they had wives and families of
their own his sons would deepen their roots in the Ponderosa. He was
not always thrilled with the choices they made in the women they courted,
and he was greatly dismayed that all his sons had proved unlucky in this department.
Each time any of them seemed close to settling down with a woman, fate intervened
to prevent it. Ben had resolved to never get his hopes up again
until he actually heard one of the boys say, “I do,” and a bride respond
in kind.
But he had broken this rule for Laura Dayton. She
was a troubled woman to be sure. But she was not an exotic visitor passing
through town and casting a spell over one of his sons. She was the
widow of a rancher and a neighbor for many years. Adam and she were
friends long before they became romantically involved, and their courtship
had been gradual and natural, if not without pitfalls. Ben had allowed
his vision of the future to include Adam and Laura happily ensconced in a
house nearby on the ranch, raising Laura’s daughter Peggy, whom Ben had already
begun to regard as a grandchild, along with children the couple would have
together.
How cruelly this dream had vanished! First, Adam
had been gravely injured falling from the roof of the house he was building
for Laura in secret (such romantic nonsense!). In the beginning they
all feared he would be permanently confined to a wheelchair. Despite
that ominous possibility, the shards of the dream remained for a little while.
Laura seemed determined to stick with Adam despite his injury, and Adam managed
to put the best face on the situation and did not sink into melancholy.
Ben had never been more impressed with his eldest. He was fairly sure
that he himself would not have coped nearly as well and he knew few men that
would.
Less then two weeks after the accident, the next blow
came out of the blue, though it was accompanied by a wondrous event.
Adam learned that Laura had fallen in love with his cousin (Ben’s nephew)
Will, and that the attraction was mutual. Only Adam’s injury had prevented
the couple from revealing their intention to marry. To Laura’s and his
family’s astonishment, Adam rose from his wheelchair and walked, thus essentially
giving Laura and Will permission to carry out their plans.
Ben had watched over the past year as Adam worked to
recover from both his physical injury and his heartbreak. Ben’s heart
filled with equal parts pride and pain each time he witnessed his son struggle
to master some task that he had previously done without a second thought.
The pride was not only for the accomplishment, but also for the attitude Adam
displayed. The young man did occasionally withdraw into himself, a
habit he had had all his life. But he never gave in to despair.
Up until he left for the timber camp he continued to interact pleasantly with
family and friends, even making jokes at his own expense.
When Adam was nearly recovered, Ben gave him the responsibility for fulfilling
the lumber contract, aware that his son viewed this as a kind of proving test.
Ben had worried that there was no outcome to the test that could give him
pleasure. Certainly if Adam had been unable to accomplish the job,
it would be a disappointment to both of them. But Ben sensed that Adam
was not just trying to determine if he was fit to resume his previous role
on the Ponderosa. And tonight the father’s premonition had proven correct.
The atmosphere in the ranch house had been strained in
the several weeks since Adam returned. Ben had expressed his delight
that Adam had succeeded. Hoss and Joe subjected their big brother to
a lot of good-natured teasing about his having lost his excuse to loll around
and expect them to do his share of the work. But Adam barely ackowledged
his father’s praise and didn’t rise to his brothers’ bait. Dinner tonight
had been especially quiet. Adam’s introspective, distracted demeanor
cast something of a pall over the meal. When they finished dessert Adam
asked his father if they could have a private discussion. The two of
them retired to the verandah.
Adam began abruptly. “Pa, I am thirty-six years
old. Hoss and Joe are grown men capable of carrying a good share of
the responsibility of running this place. As they have pointed out in
such a subtle manner, they were able to carry most of my share of the work
this past year. Do you agree?”
“Well I am certainly not going to dispute your age, nor
your brothers’ capabilities.”
“The fact is, I don’t think you need me here. It
seems to me that it should be my choice whether or not I stay.” This
was coming out much harsher than he intended. For once, the articulate
Adam Cartwright had trouble expressing his thoughts.
Ben found that formulating a reply was just as difficult.
It was hard to put into words what he had always hoped was obvious.
“My desire to have my sons here is not based on the quantity and quality of
labor they can provide. And I recognize that you are an adult, free
to go where you choose and do what you choose. But I have always expected…wanted…hoped
my sons would choose to remain here. This is our land. We built
this ranch together, and it is your legacy to receive and pass on to your
children.”
“I have helped you achieve this dream for as long as
I can remember, Pa. And I’ve done it willingly. You’re my father,
Hoss and Joe are my brothers, and this has been our home together. Please
forgive me Pa, but now I need to leave. If Laura and I…well if things
had gone differently…well the idea of building a family of my own here outweighed
other desires. But it was not to be and I have no interest in trying
again.”
Adam’s declaration that he was no longer interested in
marrying and settling down was more painful to Ben even than the suggestion
that he was leaving the Ponderosa. “Laura was not the only woman on
earth, Adam,” he said softly.
Adam made a small grimace and answered quietly.
“You know that I know that Pa. Before Laura there was Ruth, and before
her several others that you may remember. I refuse to go through anything
like that again.”
“There’s a saying son, ‘never say never’,” replied his
father. “But even if you have temporarily abandoned your search for
a wife, why do you feel you must leave home?”
“Maybe I should blame you, Pa. All those tales
of sailing around the world that you told me when I was a kid. I’m
tired of just hearing and reading about the world. I want to see it.”
“Son, I was a lad when I went to sea, and I did it to
support myself. You are a grown man. You have a means of livelihood
right here. Seeing the world is a boy’s romantic notion, not a sensible
adult’s plan.”
“Well Pa, maybe I’m tired of acting sensibly. I’ve
had to be so sensible over the years it’s become habit. I want to break
the habit now, while I still can.”
“Son, if my tales inspired this idea of yours, then I
left something out. In most of the world that I saw, in Asia, in Europe,
even in the eastern cities of this country, which you have seen yourself,
most people live in crowded squalor. Here we have space, we have land,
and we make our own destiny. Nothing anywhere can rival that.”
“Pa, don’t you see? I have been helping make your
destiny, and gladly. You are and always will be the most powerful influence
on my life. I am grateful for everything you have taught me, and everything
you have given me. I know what a sacrifice sending me to college was
and I hope that in the last fourteen years I have managed to repay you.”
“Adam, this isn’t a question of balancing an account
and I hope you know that. I just want what is best for you…”
As he said those timeworn parental words almost by rote,
a realization came over Ben. If he tried to keep Adam on the Ponderosa
out of a sense of obligation, how could he claim that he only had his son’s
interest at heart? How long could he force this son, who had sacrificed
his childhood to his father’s dream, to continue making the same sacrifice?
He closed his eyes briefly and drew a deep breath.
“All right Adam. You do not have my permission
to go because you do not need it. You are a man and you have fulfilled
any obligation you may have had to work for me a thousand times over.
Now tell me your plans. I know you have a little money saved, but it
could hardly be enough to finance a world tour!”
“Oh, Pa.” Adam simultaneously felt a weight disappear
from his chest when he realized that he would not be forced to argue further
with his father about this, and the beginning of the ache that his separation
from home and family would engender.
“I have arranged to ship out next month from San Francisco
as a seaman on a merchant ship bound for the Orient. I’ve been in touch
with Charlie Weston. You know I have written a few articles about the
West for his newspaper back in Massachusetts. Anyway, when it was still
unclear whether I would ever even be able to manage a solo journey to Virginia
City I wrote him a rambling letter in which I mentioned my desire to travel
around the world. He wrote back that if I ever did it he would give
me a commission to send him articles about my travels. This week I inquired
by wire whether the offer still stood and he responded in the affirmative.
So between my seaman’s pay and my writing I don’t plan on depleting the family
fortune.”
“A seaman? Do you realize what that entails?
I know full well you are used to hard work, and you’ve recovered remarkably
from your injury, but that is one of the most back-breaking jobs a man can
do!”
“I know Pa. I want to do this. I feel sure
I can do it now, but I am not getting younger. This is my chance and
I have to take it. I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life as a
sailor. Perhaps I’ll write, maybe I will go back to engineering and
architecture, maybe I’ll return here if you’ll have me, or I might find something
completely different to do. I just know that I have to go now.”
Ben couldn’t think of anything more to say. Adam
was stubborn and Ben knew from experience the fruitlessness of trying to get
this son to change his mind. He had obviously made his plans in advance
of tonight’s conversation, so he likely would have gone with or without his
father’s blessing. Ben briefly put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, the closest
to an embrace his non-demonstrative son would usually allow, then turned
to reenter the house. He paused before opening the door. “One
thing, though. You are going to have to tell your brothers about this.
Don’t expect me to perform that task.”
Adam had already decided that he should explain his coming
departure to each of his brothers separately. He knew that Hoss was
taking care of some evening chores. Adam entered the barn quietly and
leaned on a support beam, folding his arms across his chest and bending his
left leg back, digging the toe of his boot into the floor. “Could you
use a hand?”
Hoss looked over his shoulder at his older brother.
“Not likely, since you waited ‘til I was near about done to offer. Why
don’t you tell me what you really came here to talk about? I can tell
something’s been eatin’ at you.”
“Hoss, you don’t remember when we first got here, do
you?”
“Now how would I do that, seein’ as I musta bin ‘bout
one year old?”
“Well I remember. I remember Pa was happy for the
first time since…well, since your Ma died. He kept saying, ‘We’re here,
we are really here, we found it.’ He couldn’t get over how beautiful
this land was.”
“Now we had passed through a lot of beautiful country
on the way here, a lot of forbidding places too, but a lot of beautiful country.
I was just a kid. I couldn’t see that this place was anything special.
But I was glad to stop walking for a while and I was glad to see Pa smile.”
Hoss answered, “I gotta agree with Pa, there ain’t nothing
prettier than this here ranch. I been a fair distance from the Ponderosa
in every direction. Maybe not near as far as you, but I seen the Rockies
and I seen San Francisco, and I been north and south a fair piece too.
I ain’t seen nothing nowhere to rival the Sierras or Lake Tahoe.”
“Hoss, don’t you ever want to see for yourself what lies
beyond where you’ve been?”
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind seeing some different sights,
but I think I’d get homesick for this place right quick. Why are you
talkin’ like this, Adam?”
“Because I think I am ready to start walking again.”
“Huh?”
“Not literally. But it’s time for me to move on.”
Adam went on to explain his plans and his reasons as well as he could to Hoss.
“I don’t understand, Adam. I can’t imagine anything
worthwhile to find out in the rest of the world that we ain’t already got
right here. Except that now we ain’t gonna have you here. But
I want you to be happy, Adam. If you’ve already talked to Pa about this
then I ain’t gonna try to argue you out of it.”
Adam was filled with gratitude for his middle brother’s
generosity of spirit. “One thing I hope you do understand, Hoss, is
that I am not doing this to hurt you, or to hurt anybody. It is just
something I have to do.”
“I know that without your saying it Adam. Have
you talked to Joe yet?
“No, I have been putting that little task off, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t sell him short. He’s done a lot of growin’
up recently.”
“Does that mean you wouldn’t mind telling him for me?”
“I’d sooner rassle a mountain lion!”
A few minutes later Adam was knocking on the door of
Joe’s bedroom.
“Who is it?”
“Adam.”
Joe looked up from the dime novel he was sprawled on
his bed reading, a bit surprised. He rolled over and sat up cross-legged
in the middle of his bed. Adam was not in the habit of dropping in for
a chat, and Joe didn’t think he’d done anything lately to warrant a reprimand.
In fact, Adam and Joe hadn’t really tussled in a long time. “Come in
big brother,” he called out, curiosity piqued.
Adam stepped in and sat gingerly on the side of the bed.
Little Joe spoke first. “So, what did I do?”
“Oh Joe, when was the last time I came in here to chastise
you?”
Joe thought back. “It’s been more than a year, I think. Not
since before…before…”
Adam came to his rescue. “I know. Before.”
The brothers smiled sadly at each other.
“You know, Joe, somehow when I wasn’t looking you grew
up. You pull your weight, you hold your temper, you’re really not just
a kid any more.”
“I am twenty-four, Adam. Wait a minute. This
is a switch, you buttering me up. If you need a loan to buy a racehorse
forget about it. I’m broke.”
“You’re just never going to let me forget about that,
are you? I meant what I said, Joe—there’s no ulterior motive.
I’m not just buttering you up. But I guess I am getting ready to tell
you something you may not like. Actually, I don’t know how you’ll react.”
“Come on, Adam, quit beating around the bush. What
so all-fired important that you have to tell me?”
So Adam repeated his plans for the third time.
With all the practice he was getting he felt that his announcement was sounding
a bit more polished. Still, he was as acquainted as anyone with Joe’s
volatile temper and he was afraid he might have just lit a powder keg.
Joe was silent a long time. While Adam was talking, Joe’s face had begun
to set into the scowl that generally presaged an explosion, but now his facial
muscles relaxed. Joe rested his chin on his chest. When he finally
looked up and spoke his voice was calm, quiet, sad. “Your mind is made
up? You’ve talked to Pa and Hoss?”
Adam nodded twice in the affirmative.
“Did you tell them how much your back still hurts?”
“And just what makes you think that?”
“Well you have been doing a good job of hiding it.
I may be the only one you’re not fooling. I know Pa is just so happy
at how much you’ve healed. And when I asked Hoss the other day if he’d
noticed that you still seemed to be hurting, he told me that he didn’t know
about that, he’d just got the impression that you were brooding about something.
Now I think we were both right.”
“So how exactly did you reach this conclusion, Dr. Cartwright?”
“Remember the day I delivered supplies to the lumber
camp? Well I followed you behind the tent.”
Adam recalled that his back had screamed in protest when
he had helped unload the heavy and awkward block and tackle from the buckboard.
He had staggered out of sight of Joe and the men and crouched over in agony,
waiting for the spasms to subside. “I just grabbed onto that thing wrong,
that’s all.”
“Mm-hmm,” answered Joe, remembering how he’d stood there
helpless, not wanting to intrude on Adam’s privacy and not sure how he could
help even if he did. “I figured that. And I been noticing ever
since how careful you are to grab everything right. I can almost seeing
you plotting out every move you make.”
“Did you tell Pa?”
“Nope. I figured it was your business. I
only mentioned it to Hoss like I told you, but I let it go when he said he
hadn’t noticed. I have been wondering whether to ask you about it,
and I guess now I have.”
“Thanks for not worrying Pa with this, kid.”
“You’re welcome, ‘old timer’. So, assuming that
what I’ve noticed isn’t a figment of my imagination, what do you plan to do
on board a ship? From what I hear that isn’t exactly a sit down and
relax kind of job.”
“I plan to do just what you’ve been observing me doing
most of the time—being careful.”
“I don’t know why everyone says I’m the one with the
crazy ideas. You may be the voice of reason most of the time, but when
you go off half-cocked you sure don’t do it halfway!”
“That has got to be one of the most ludicrous mixed metaphors
I’ve ever heard.”
Joe scrunched up his face as he struggled to remember
what a metaphor was. Then he scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders
as if to say, “Oh, well. Never mind.”
“I’m gonna miss you big brother.” Joe continued. “I’m half-tempted
to go with you. You’re not the only one with an itch to see more of
the world! But somebody has to take care of Pa and Hoss. Just
don’t stay away too long.”
..…
Adam lay awake late into the night. This time it
wasn’t just discomfort that was preventing him from falling asleep.
He felt almost ashamed at how he had underestimated his family. While
he knew that his decision to leave was hurtful to his father, unfathomable
to Hoss, and seemed ill advised to Joe, they all had supported him because
it was what he wanted to do. He had viewed himself as indispensable
for so long that he was only just realizing how his years of sacrifice had
paid off. The Ponderosa was thriving financially. The two brothers
he had helped raise were fine men, more than capable of working with their
father to sustain the ranch. And Pa, in releasing him from his obligation
to remain at home, had tightened the bond Adam felt to his family. Wherever
he went, he would carry them in his heart forever.
END
RETURN TO LIBRARY