Elegy for a Cartwright

Written by:  Starlite

Casting a well-trained eye down to the dusty ground beneath his feet, he surveyed the road that served as the main street of Virginia City.  Nine paces, the man in black assessed.  Nine paces that stood between him and the man who'd called him out.  Nine paces between him and a hired killer.  Nine paces between him and possibly his imminent demise.  

Mentally he chastised himself for not considering that Senator Prince would probably have more than one hired gun on his payroll.  Now as he stood facing the consequences of his actions, he found his mind considering where the others in this little drama were.  In the case of the formally well-respected judge, he was at his family's ranch attempting to dry-out from his several month's long attempt to drown his conscience in a whiskey bottle.  The once popular Senator sat in Roy Coffee's jail awaiting trial for conspiracy in the death of a rancher by the name of Carl Jolly.  And the instigator of all this unhappiness, Bob Jolly was on a stagecoach bound eastward; at least he was safe and sound.  This was definitely one time where the windmill was probably going to get the best of old Don Quixote, the eldest Cartwright son thought humorously.

When he told Bob Jolly that he would never forget, he thought he would be remembering his actions in the downfall of a prominent judge much longer than three days.  But now it seemed as though he wouldn't have to regret his actions for very much longer.  Carefully he inhaled deeply and set himself for the impending showdown, steeling his nerves and willing himself to remain calm and confident regardless of how his stomach churned.  What had his father warned, something about taking up the cause of underdogs?

His Pa, Adam thought ruefully.  The man Adam felt he'd let down by destroying his father's friend, Judge Whitaker. Adam had noticed from the corner of his eye, his father's downcast face; the elder Cartwright was unable to look at his son, preferring to stare down at the hat he held in his hands.  After the mock hearing in the saloon that day, his father had risen to show his support to Harry Whitaker, not his son.  Adam hadn't seen his father nor spoken to him since.  Somehow, Adam Cartwright just didn't feel welcome on the Ponderosa right now, and in the days following the hearing, Adam hadn't seen any members of his family or been home.

Windmills, underdogs and disappointments - what strange things a man thinks about as he faces death, Adam sardonically contemplated.

Fighting the urge to adjust his hat and shield his eyes as he faced the early afternoon sun, Adam settled for squinting his left eye instead.  Releasing the breath he'd been holding from his deep inhalation of moments before, he continued to study his opponent.  Mere moments seemed to drag out into hours as the two men squared off facing each other.  Then there it was: the subtle hint of movement, the hand racing for the holster, the grabbing of the pistol's grip, the weapon rising to face him and the flash from the mouth of the gun.  The eldest Cartwright son watched as his adversary's colt was drawn and knew subconsciously that he had mimicked the same exact motions.  Hearing the sharp metallic pop of his own weapon, then the echo of his enemy's, followed by the overwhelming smell of gunpowder, Adam felt a rush and heard a whistle as the bullet whizzed by his left ear.  Still frozen in time, Adam Cartwright watched as the gunman began a slow spiraling descent to the dusty road.  He twisted in obvious agony while grabbing at his chest as he fell.  Adam made no movement as the man sank to the ground, weapon still drawn and pointed in his direction.  

Noticing the man's muzzle flash once more, Adam felt himself being jerked backwards involuntarily.  It was as though he'd been kicked by a horse.  There was no initial pain just the jolt that caused him to stumble and almost lose his balance.  As he tried to regain his footing and maintain his stance, he felt a searing burning pain cut into the core of his being.  It felt like a hot poker had been driven through him, the pain then radiated and traveled the length of his leg, down through the thigh to his knee, descending further down into his calf to finally end at his toes.  Gritting his teeth against the pain, he fought to stay on his feet but to no avail, and found himself falling with outstretched hands into the dirt of Virginia City's main street.

The pain of his injury was excruciating; Adam balled his fists, closed his eyes and clenched his teeth against the agony, willing himself not to cry out.  Struggling against the pain, once again he tried to get to his feet.  He'd barely pulled his body up to rest on his left knee, when he felt strong hands grab his upper arms to lift him the rest of the way.

"Ya hurt bad, Adam?"

Opening his tear-filled eyes, he glanced over to the concerned sky blue ones of the man with two hands firmly gripping his left arm.  Seeing his little brother Hoss standing next to him, was a very welcomed sight.  Not daring to speak, Adam shook his head in response.

"He's bleeding pretty badly, we'd better get him over to Doc Martin's."

Adam shifted his gaze to his other side and found his curly-haired baby brother had a firm grasp of his right arm, and absently noted that Little Joe needed a haircut. Without word, Adam found his arms being draped across his brothers' shoulders, then felt their arms crossing behind him to grasp his lower back.  Slowly Hoss and Joe half carried and half dragged their older brother through the crowd of gawking onlookers and townsfolk, taking him to the edge of town to the doctor's house.

The trek to Doc Martin's house lasted an eternity, as every movement or twist of Adam's body seemed to intensify the pain. Cursing to themselves over their stubborn older brother's adamant refusal to be carried, Hoss and Joe would stop occasionally to adjust their grip on Adam, whenever they heard him gasp in pain.  To Adam's credit and strength of fortitude, he managed to never cry out nor lose consciousness throughout his ordeal.

The town's doctor met the Cartwright brothers at the door, he'd already been notified to be expecting patients.  After the events of the past couple of days, Paul Martin was not surprised to find Adam Cartwright was one of the participants of today's gunplay.  Shaking his head with disappointment over the lawlessness that still prevailed in this part of the country, he dipped his head towards his surgery.  Following the doctor's lead, Hoss and Joe carried Adam to the back room indicated by the doctor, and gently laid their brother onto the table.

Dizzy from the blood loss and the pain, Adam closed his eyes.  Within minutes he discovered the doctor lifting his head and holding a glass to his lips.  He found himself drinking some foul tasting liquid before his head was once again lowered to the pillow.  Within moments, he felt lightheaded and somewhat disconcerted as he drifted off towards oblivion.


                *************


Ben Cartwright rode into town with unusual haste.  He was horrified to hear of the news that his oldest son had been in a gunfight.  Nothing good had resulted from this whole debacle.  A much-disliked rancher was still dead, hanged unjustly and no amount of retribution would change that.  His old friend, Harry Whitaker was suffering the pain of alcohol withdraw and his once stellar legal career was in shambles.  Then there were still the criminal trials to come, which would undoubtedly result in the further destruction of more men. He was fairly certain Hobie Klinderman would be sentenced to prison for his part, and the perjury that had led to the death of Carl Jolly.  

As for Senator Prince, somehow Ben Cartwright was not so certain that he would actually spend any time in the territorial prison for his actions.  Adam should have heeded Prince's warning, Ben thought ruefully.  My son is a very intelligent man, why did he not take that corrupt politician's words to heart when he threatened that Adam would never be able to prove a thing!  My God, please don't let my son die, he prayed.

As Ben Cartwright continued his fearful journey into Virginia City, he found himself getting angrier by the minute.  He was angry with Bob Jolly for bringing his troubles to the Ponderosa's doorstep and encouraging his firstborn to fight his battles for him.  He was furious with Senator Prince, even though he wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, he was certain that the politician was responsible for the shooting of his son.  But he was more enraged with himself.  

Ben had been somewhat disappointed and disheartened in Adam for destroying his old friend; and as such, had turned his back and walked away from him that day in the saloon.  Now as a result, his son had been shot.  Even though he had always understood and silently agreed with his son's actions, he never made that clear to Adam.  Instead in his outward display of support for his old friend, he'd managed to alienate his child by the appearance of disapproval with Adam's actions.  

Ben chastised himself for the seventh time in the last half-hour for his neglect.  Had he made his feelings clear to his son and attempted to talk this through, Adam wouldn't have been staying in town and would have had the relative safety of the Ponderosa for protection until this whole mess was through.  Ben spurred Buck harder, again praying that his son would survive.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ben Cartwright pulled his horse to a stop in front of Doc Martin's house.  Quickly dismounting, he tied the reins to the hitching post and took the steps two at a time.  Without stopping to knock or announce his entrance, Ben rushed into the doctor's parlor and makeshift waiting room where he found his two youngest sons.

"How is he?"  Ben inquired, studying the drawn and pale faces of Hoss and Joe.

"Don't know, Doc's with him right now."  Hoss answered his father when he noticed the anxiety on the older man's face.  Quickly he attempted to reassure his father, when he saw the man look fearfully at the closed door of the surgery.

"Didn't look too bad though, bullet went clean through.  He's lost some blood and it's a pretty painful wound, but Adam's an ornery cuss and should be up and bossing everyone around in no time."

Ben cocked his head back to look in his middle son's direction and gave him a half-hearted small smile in return.  Motioning to the chairs in the room, Ben indicated that they return to their seats to wait for the news from the doctor.  Ben sank gratefully onto the settee in the room just as he felt the strength leave his wobbly knees.

Waiting for word grated on the three Cartwright's nerves, how Ben Cartwright hated to wait.  He felt just as nervous as the day in which Adam was born, an unnerving event he experienced twice more with the subsequent births of Hoss then Joe.  Fighting the urge to begin pacing the room like his antsy youngest son had been doing, Ben Cartwright willed himself to look out the window at the street, instead of the closed door which concealed his son.

All three men jumped to their feet in unison to face the doctor when they heard the door open.  With a shy smile, Paul Martin indicated that the men return to their seats before he began his dissertation.  Once seated the doctor cleared his throat and spoke reassuringly.

"He's going to be just fine.  The bullet went straight through the right hip.  He's lost quite a bit of blood and had some significant damage to the bone, but in time, barring any infection, it should heal nicely."

Ben Cartwright let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and offered a silent prayer to his God.  Little Joe whooped excitedly then slapped Hoss on the shoulder while Hoss just grinned, he knew all along that his older brother would be just fine.

Paul Martin held up his hand to forestall any impending questions, and to silence the small celebration so he could complete his diagnosis.

"This is a very painful wound that Adam has suffered.  It's going to take a great deal of time before Adam's back on his feet."

"When can we take him home?"  Ben asked eagerly, overjoyed with the news that Adam would be okay.

Paul Martin knew there was a strain in Ben and Adam's relationship relating to the events of the past couple of days.  But he didn't feel he should broach the subject here and now, especially not in front of Ben's two other sons.  He was uncertain that he should let Adam return to the Ponderosa until things had been settled between these two men.  Feeling as though it wasn't his place to come between a father and his son, he pushed any doubts aside and answered his old friend.

"Tomorrow soon enough?"

Ben nodded as he accepted the news gratefully and inquired,  "Can I see him?"

"I don't see why not.  He's probably still out from the anesthetic I gave him.  This way gentlemen."  Doc Martin led them back to the room Adam had been moved to after having the damage to his hip repaired.

Entering the darkened room, Ben located a straight-backed chair in a far corner of the room.  Grabbing it by the top rung of the chair back, he pulled it over to Adam's bedside and sat down.  Reaching over to the table, Ben took a small cloth and dipped it into the water basin.  Wringing it out he reached over and wiped the perspiration from his sleeping son's brow.

Studying his son's sleeping face, Ben noted how young and helpless his child appeared.  With that realization, he found the anger from earlier in the day well inside of him before making a silent vow.  As God is my witness, Senator Prince will be held accountable for destroying my friend and attempting to kill my son.

As calmly as he could and without taking his eyes from his firstborn, Ben addressed his younger sons.

"Hoss and Little Joe, I need you two to head back to the ranch, and don't forget to retrieve Adam's things from the hotel and Sport from the stable.  In the morning Hoss, I want you to return with a buckboard so we can get Adam home where he belongs."      

Nodding in acceptance, a chorus of "Yessir" echoed behind the Cartwright patriarch's back.  With one more glance at their sleeping older brother, Hoss and Joe departed to do their father's bidding.


                *************


Adam spent a restless night as the medication that Paul Martin had administered the previous afternoon slowly wore off and the pain returned in force.  Awaking in the early hours of dawn he found his father at his bedside.  His father appeared to be sleeping and not wanting to disturb him; Adam closed his eyes and attempted to will himself back to sleep.

Unable to get comfortable in the small hard bed, Adam attempted to shift his back, causing a loud gasp to escape his lips as a lancing pain radiated from his hip and shot down his leg.  Wincing, air hissed through his teeth as he grasped his right thigh in a futile attempt to ease the burning agony.  Distracted by his own suffering, Adam didn't even realize that he had awoken his father.

"Here son, just relax now," Ben soothed as he once again dipped the cloth in the cool water of the basin and wiped his son's forehead now bathed in perspiration.  "Easy boy, I'll get Paul."

It seemed like days before his father returned with the doctor in tow.  Paul Martin quickly checked Adam's injury and was quite pleased that Adam's moving around hadn't pulled any stitches loose.  Carefully he poured some liquid from a dark glass bottle into a glass, then added some water.  He motioned to Ben to raise his son into a sitting position.

Ben carefully put his arms behind his son and lifted Adam until his son's back rested against his chest.  Taking the proffered glass from Paul Martin, Ben assisted Adam to drink the medicine that would help ease his discomfort.

Both men shared an amused smile as Adam involuntarily gagged and made a disgusted face when he finished swallowing the foul tasting liquid.  Ben continued to let Adam rest against his chest until he was assured that Adam was once again asleep before carefully laying his son back in the bed.

The next time Adam awoke, he found that it was morning and his father and brother Hoss were bundling him in blankets in preparation for his journey home.  Neither man was aware that Adam was now awake until he slapped at Hoss' hand.

"Now I know how those Indian babies in papooses feel!"  Adam groggily exclaimed trying to push his overzealous brother away, Hoss had been wrapping him so tight he thought he'd suffocate.

"Well, Good morning to you too son."  Ben replied; he was happy to see that Adam still had his wry sense of humor despite his painful injury.

"Pa."  Was all that Adam could manage to say to his father at the moment.  He was still feeling somewhat betrayed by the lack of his father's support.

Ben could sense that a rift had developed between him and his oldest son.  He wasn't sure how to address the situation with Adam just yet.  But first things first, and right now at the top of his list was seeing Adam on his way to the Ponderosa.  Ignoring the obvious tension that had developed in the room, Ben turned to his middle son.

"Ready Hoss?"

"Yessiree Pa," Hoss answered, and like his father decided to disregard the sudden chill in the air.  With one swift motion, the largest of the Cartwright's easily lifted his older brother into his arms.

Adam sucked in his breath as Hoss picked him up from his bed.  Clenching his teeth, he offered no resistance as his 'little' brother carried him from the room, down the hall and to the front porch.  Stopping at the porch, Ben came up to assist Hoss with moving Adam down the steps and over to the makeshift bed that was arranged in the back of a buckboard.  Once settled in the back of the wagon, Ben covered his son with yet another blanket and helped him to sit up to take the glass being offered by Paul Martin.

"Here Adam, this will make the ride home a little more bearable."  The doctor intoned, handing the glass to his patient.

Adam made a sour face, which caused a loud guffaw from Hoss before trying to drink down the disgusting medicine in a few gulps.  Once done, his father settled him onto his back and placed a pillow behind his head.

"Hoss, you drive carefully and take things easy with your brother."  Ben instructed in a no nonsense tone.

"Yessir Pa, I sure will.  Ain't you coming too?"  Hoss asked, he was confused because he was sure that his father would want to see Adam home.

"I'll be along shortly, I've got some business here in town that I need to take care of.  Now mind what I say."  Ben replied with a clipped tone to his voice.

Hoss nodded in reply, as Adam now beginning to become quite sleepy from the pain medicine eyed his father suspiciously.  Adam could tell that there was more to his father's actions, but wasn't sure what it could be.  The last thing he remembered before he fell into a deep sleep was hearing the slap of the reins onto the rumps of the horses and the wagon jerking forward.

Ben watched as the buckboard bearing his injured son pulled away from Dr Martin's house.  Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders in preparation for the second item on his list of things to do.  Tipping his hat at his old friend, Ben Cartwright turned and began to make his way down the main street of Virginia City to the jail.

Arriving at the jailhouse minutes later, Ben Cartwright with quiet determination swung open the wooden door that led into Roy Coffee's mainstay.  He found the kindly town sheriff sitting at his desk, rifling through some old wanted posters.

"Morning Ben, how's Adam?"  Sheriff Coffee intoned.  He had checked on Adam the previous day and was relieved that Ben's boy would be okay.

"Fine Roy, just fine.  Hoss is taking him home as we speak."  Ben responded as he glanced about the office before coming forward to sit in a chair across from his old friend.

"Well, what brings ya round here on this fine morning?  Not that I don't mind your company and all."  The old sheriff was a sharp trader and could tell that Ben Cartwright had more on his mind than just a simple visit or to pass the time of day.

"I'd like to see those papers that Adam gave you for safe keeping."  Ben replied with a small nod towards the jail cells.  Ben knew that Adam had given the documents that he'd used for the hearing to the sheriff for safe keeping as evidence in the impending trials of both Senator Prince and Hobie Klinderman.

"I see."  Roy responded rising from his desk.  He now recognized the look on his old friend's face.  It was sheer stubbornness, something that all the Cartwrights seemed to possess in abundance.  The sheriff figured that with Adam now incapacitated; his old man would pick up the battle.  

Rising from his chair, Roy gave a sideways glance at the resolute look upon Ben Cartwright's face and fought a small chuckle.  Heaven help that polecat of a politician once old Ben Cartwright was through with him, Roy smirked shaking his head as he headed over to his safe in the back of the room.  Retrieving Adam's saddlebags heavily laden with documents and papers from the safe, he placed them onto a desk in a corner of the room.  

"There they are Ben."  Roy announced with a wave of his hand towards the bundle, and motioned Ben over to the chair positioned next to the table.  He eyed Ben curiously as he watched the silver-haired man approach to take his place at the desk.

Ben quickly dove into the paperwork with a fervor.  He didn't have much time to spare and needed to make sure he used it wisely.  Tomorrow was the beginning of the trials, starting with Senator Prince, and he wanted to insure that nothing was left to chance.

Roy watched in amusement, Senator Prince is gonna learn, ya don't go messing with one of Ben's boys.  Walking over to the stove, Roy raised the coffeepot and poured himself a cup of the dark hot bitter liquid.

"Would you care for a cup of coffee, Ben?"  Roy offered graciously.

"Huh," Ben grunted in response not really hearing a word the sheriff said, he was too engrossed in his reading material to pay the other man any mind.

"No, didn't think so."  Roy chuckled while resuming his seat to watch his friend in amusement.

                
                ****************

"Adam, hey Adam."

Adam awoke to his baby brother shaking him by his shoulder.  Groggily he turned sleep filled eyes to the annoyance that demanded his attention.

"What?"  Adam demanded; he was much happier being asleep where he didn't have to deal with the pain from his hip.

"Brought ya some dinner grouch."  Joe replied, Adam always tended to be on the gruff side, but could be even worse when he wasn't feeling very well.

Adam scanned the room for his father and was surprised not to find him.  His father had always been there before whenever he was sick or hurt.  He realized that his father hadn't been there all day and the last time he'd seen him was that morning when he was put into the wagon for the long journey home.  He figured that things were definitely much worse than he realized between them.  Carefully, he pulled himself into a sitting position.

Joe placed a pillow across Adam's lap before positioning the tray with the food on it.  Once the tray was settled, Joe sat down on the chair next to Adam's bedside to keep him company while he ate.

Adam wasn't very hungry to begin with, and the absence of his father made him even less so.  Forcing himself, Adam slowly began to eat.

Joe studied his brother while Adam ate.  He tried a couple of times to get Adam into a conversation about things around the ranch, and when he only elicited a few small noncommittal grunts and a couple of nods, he surrendered to the deafening silence.  Figuring that Adam still wasn't feeling up to company, he took the barely touched dinner tray downstairs and left his brother to sleep.

Adam hadn't really even noticed Joe's presence in the room while he attempted to eat.  Nor did he really even notice when Joe had departed with the dinner tray.  He was too puzzled by his father's absence and was wondering if things would ever be right between them again.

Ben Cartwright arrived home late that evening.  He really hadn't intended to stay in town all day, but there was just so much important, and damaging information contained in Adam's saddlebags.  Normally when in town this late, he would have spent the night at the hotel, but he especially wanted to get home to check on his injured son.

Quietly he let himself into the house not to disturb his family or guest.  After depositing his hat and gun belt on the sideboard at the door, he silently made his way up the stairs to his oldest son's room.  Walking over to Adam's bedside, Ben looked down at his sleeping son.  

There was so much that he wanted to tell his boy, he now understood Adam's motivations for helping Bob Jolly regarding his father's unjust hanging.  He too now felt the outrage that his son must have felt.  He remembered Adam's challenge that day in the saloon. 'My father hasn't been tried, convicted and hanged', at the time Ben was quite displeased with his son's theatrics, but now his heart swelled with pride at Adam's convictions.

In a strange way, Ben realized that Adam was not only fighting an injustice, but also defending a morality that at times even he didn't understand.  But at what cost?  And what would it cost him the next time?  There was so much that Ben wanted to say to his oldest son, so much he wanted to tell him, but didn't have the heart to wake his injured child.  Tomorrow, he told himself as he turned out the lamp in Adam's room and headed down the hall to his own bedroom.


                *************


Ben was up early the next morning.  There were so many documents he still needed to study before the trial that afternoon.  He had once again checked on his son and like the night before, found him asleep.  Knowing that Adam needed to rest to regain his health, Ben left for town without speaking to his eldest son.

The trial lasted for several days, and each day passed the same.  Ben arrived home late each evening after a long day in court and left early each morning.  No matter how much he tried, he never found his son awake.

For Adam, the days past in slow succession.  He hadn't seen his father since the day he came home and wondered if their relationship was beyond repair.  He hadn't seen Roy Coffee either, and assumed that the trial of Senator Prince had been postponed because of his injury.  But then again he realized his presence really wasn't required, because the documents spoke for themselves.

Hoss and Joe kept their older brother entertained while he recuperated.  Hoss would keep Adam apprised of the day to day activities of the ranch, while Joe was always ready with checkerboard in hand.  Hoss and Joe knew what their father had undertaken on behalf of their brother.  Not to mention the danger he'd placed himself into, but to prevent Adam from worrying or attempting to go into town on his own to face Prince, they'd decided to let him believe that the trial had been delayed.

Adam, on the other hand, never inquired as to their father's whereabouts, and Hoss and Joe never offered any explanation for his absence.  There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the three sons that their father was not a topic for conversation.  

As the days progressed, Adam became more introspective and withdrawn.  Initially he wanted desperately to talk to his father, but now he found he preferred his absence.  After a couple of days, Dr Martin pronounced Adam well enough to be out of bed.  Hoss and Joe presented him with the gift of a cane addressed to the 'old man'.  Adam was not amused, but willingly accepted the present when he found he couldn't stand without its assistance.

Six days after the shooting found Adam down in the main room reading one of his favorite books with his right leg propped up on the table, when Harry Whitaker entered the house.  The judge had been to town and was looking quite drawn and haggard.  Adam hadn't seen the older man since that day in the saloon when the elderly judge admitted that he had failed to provide a fair trial to Carl Jolly.

Adam Cartwright still admired the elder jurist.  He truly meant what he had said that day, that Judge Whitaker was an honorable man.  Harry Whitaker had paid a terrible price for a momentary need of expediency, and the desire for a community to have the advancement of a railroad.

"Judge," Adam addressed the older man and noted that the man's hands twitched involuntarily.  He could tell that the man was still suffering the ravages brought on by the withdrawal of excessive prolonged drinking.

"Adam," the judge acknowledged in response.  He held no grudge against the oldest Cartwright son.  In fact he was somewhat grateful to be finally released from the demon that had possessed him for so long.  He longed to talk to Adam, to let him know that he didn't blame him, and now seemed as good a time as any.  "Mind some company?"

Stunned at first, Adam had to mentally shake himself upon hearing the request.  He was certain that this man had nothing to say to him, same as his father.

"No, no, not at all.  Have a seat."  Adam responded with a wave of his hand towards the settee, which sat across from his blue chair.

The afternoon was spent in companionable conversation.  Adam couldn't help but admire the man he discovered the Judge once had been.  He could clearly see why his father held this man in such high esteem and would continue to support him no matter what the cost. Listening to the old man's stories of sacrifice, the court trials and legal career, which had cost him the chance of a home and family.  Adam could see the brash young man the judge must have been in his youth, the man who aged with experience and wisdom who finally succumbed to compromise with his advancing years.

Adam realized how difficult this man's life must have been.  It couldn't have been easy to sentence men to hang, and without the benefit of a family to see him through life's tribulations, left the man quite alone.  Adam found himself identifying with the man that the judge once was in the glory years of his life.

Harry Whitaker was enthralled by the young man that sat before him.  Through all the hell of the past week, he found no animosity towards Adam Cartwright.  In Adam, he found someone not quite unlike himself.  A man long gone with the years, who had past with his youth.  Just like his skin had wrinkled and his hair had grayed, he had changed to the old man he was now.  He wondered when it had happened?  When had he grown old and was no longer able to take on all comers?  

Judge Whitaker had watched the recent interplay between Ben Cartwright and his son.  He knew that Ben was using the trial and his son's convalescence as an excuse to avoid Adam.  He could also tell that Adam was not making any attempt to be awake or around when his father was at home.  He knew the two men needed to talk and hoped they'd do it soon.  Hoping to reach the younger man before him, he offered some last bit of advice.

"In my younger days, I would have chewed up and spit out the likes of Senator Prince.  But with age, albeit sometimes a misjudgment or a lack of wisdom, combined with a bone weary tiredness of the fight that seems to take over one's being.  Where strength once reigned, that weariness allows one to make compromises, to accept and ask less of oneself.  That's where I failed.  I failed to step down when I should have.  I accepted a compromise of silence and never asked the tough questions necessary for a fair fight and as a result, an innocent man died.  Ask the questions Adam; don't settle for a compromise."  

With that said, Harry Whitaker slowly rose from the settee and with difficulty made his way across the room to the downstairs bedroom where he'd been staying to pack his things.

Later in the afternoon, Adam was sitting out on the porch taking in the warmth of the summer sun.  He noticed his father lead a horse and buggy out from the barn.  When he saw his father look in his general direction, Adam avoided his gaze by studying the book in his hands.  He desperately wanted to talk to his father, but was certain his father was disappointed with his behavior concerning this entire Jolly debacle, not to mention the destruction of his old and dear friend's career.  Somehow, the easiest course seemed to be to continue avoiding a confrontation with his father, until he was well enough to leave the Ponderosa permanently.

Ben saw Adam look away from him and was disturbed.  Throughout the majority of the last week he'd spent his time in town where he thought it was best, when he should have made more of an effort to heal the rift that somehow had formed between him and his son.  By his absence when Adam needed him, he now felt apprehension and no longer knew how to approach his son.  He had no knowledge that Adam had been left in the dark concerning his whereabouts.

Judge Whitaker departed the house from the guest bedroom door and observed as Adam avoided his father's glance and Ben's subsequent attempt to act as though he hadn't noticed.  He shook his head in disappointment; slowly he shuffled across the porch with carpetbag in hand.  Reaching out he laid a shaky hand onto the young man's shoulders.

"Never accept the compromise of silence, talk to your father."  

Adam looked up at the older man, then watched as he slowly walked across the yard to the buggy.  Adam noticed that his father pointedly avoided looking in his direction by studying the bridle on the horse.  Before walking away the Judge placed something onto the bench beside him.  Looking down, Adam realized that the man had left a copy of today's newspaper.  Adam unfolded it and glanced at the headline, 'SENATOR PRINCE SENTENCED TO TERRITORIAL PRISON'.  Reading further he found: 'Taking up the fight started by his son, Ben Cartwright's booming voice and demanding presence in the courtroom insured that the once prominent Senator would atone for his actions in the unjust hanging of Carl Jolly'.  Adam was stunned; his father had supported him afterall.  Before folding the paper again, his eye caught a smaller article that left him somewhat disheartened, but not totally surprised: "AGED JURIST STEPS DOWN FROM THE BENCH".

Harry Whitaker looked back over his shoulder and saw the dawn of understanding on Adam Cartwright's face.  He glanced over to the man who stood beside him, an old and cherished friend, the one who'd stood beside him, in what was now in his life, the worst of times.

"Remember you are always welcome on the Ponderosa."  Ben Cartwright offered, holding out his hand to his dear friend.

"Thank you, Ben."  In a shaky voice, Harry Whitaker replied while he shook the proffered hand warmly.  "Thank you."

"Take care Harry."  Ben stated as he helped the elderly man into the buggy.

As Harry took the reins he once again looked across the yard towards the porch.  "I will Ben, and you take care of your son."

Ben turned to look in the direction indicated by the single nod of Harry's head.

Deciding that his father and Judge Whitaker merited a little privacy, Adam attempted to rise from his place on the outside wooden bench.  Sitting so long on the hard wood seat had left him stiff and when he tried to place some of his weight onto his weakened and injured hip his right leg failed him.  As a shooting pain lanced through his hip, it caused him to drop his cane and grab the wooden post in front of him for support.  He would've fallen completely except for the nearness of the wood support and strong hands that seemed to appear from nowhere to grip his arm reassuringly.

Looking up, he found the warm nurturing smile of his father.

"Need a little help son?"  Ben inquired, firmly holding onto Adam's upper right arm.

Adam nodded slowly, unable to speak and feeling ashamed that he ever doubted his father's support.  As his father slowly guided him into the warmth of the house, Adam looked over to the man who had raised him and made him the person that he was.  Here was the man who had given him the strength and the courage to stand up for his convictions, no matter the cost or the consequence.  The man, who had stood by both him and his old friend over the last two weeks.  Somewhat amused Adam realized that in some ways, he and his father were very much alike. Then, to convey his thoughts to his father, Adam said two simple words, which Ben Cartwright knew, meant so much more.
 
"Thanks Pa."

The End


RETURN TO LIBRARY