This is for Lillian, who suggested I do a sequel to “The Other Side” and Louise and Marianne, who spurred me on. And Debbie L, who got the whole thing started with her wonderful story “Desert”.
Thanks to John T. Dugan who wrote what has to be one of the classic Bonanzas of all time. And to Pernell Roberts and Lee Marvin who gave one of their finest performances in that episode.
This is simply for the enjoyment of fans and no infringement is intended.
The Journey
Adam Cartwright sat in the back of the wagon as it ground along staring straight ahead. His father sat across from him, but he only saw a cruel visage with cold blue eyes that burnt into his soul. A warm comforting voice spoke to him, but he only heard vile laughter and words that seared into him like a hot branding iron. A gentle hand touched him, but he only felt ropes that bit sharply into his wrists and unrequited anger. But his anger was more directed at himself. He’d let Kane turn him into an animal. He’d lost control, and he’d tried to kill. So therefore, in his own eyes, he was an animal, and he deserved to be treated as such.
“You can’t escape me, Cartwright, or yourself.”
He wasn’t aware when the wagon came to a halt or that the sun was waning and the sky growing more somber. The voices and activity around him went unnoticed. He heard and saw nothing except what he had endured for two weeks at the hands of a sadistic madman. He wasn’t conscious of being helped from the back of the wagon and laid on a blanket on the ground near a crackling campfire. He only looked blankly into the heavens and saw what he didn’t want to.
He closed his eyes, but found no solace in blackness. It was all there. The hellish camp in the desert, the dead mule, the canteen filled with sand, the stinking pit Kane had called a mine and the rifle that tormented and taunted him.
Then something was put to his lips and cool water wet them and the inside of his mouth. It eased his dry, scratchy throat, but just as he was settling himself for a long drink it was taken away. His eyelids rose lethargically, and he saw those icy blue windows to a fiendish soul. And then Kane’s voice was counting. “One… two…”
“No more games!” he shouted and lunged forward. He could feel his hands once more invitingly around his nemeses’ throat. His fingers tightened against flesh and cartilage. “No games, no guns, no gold!” But a force was pulling him back, and he fought it. If he was going be called an animal, he might as well be allowed to act like one. “Not this time,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
But the force continued to pull at him and something was prying at his hands. And suddenly the eyes were coffee brown and vaguely familiar voices were frantically saying his name. He froze as he recognized the face of the one he was trying so desperately to strangle. “Pa,” he said in a voice that came from a stranger.
His grasp released, and he felt every bit of his energy drain into the desert sand, and he fell weeping against a pair of dusty, gritty boots. Still the tears didn’t come, but the internal strife, anguish and torment were there and filled him till he thought he would burst. Strong, comforting arms took him against a broad chest, and he found himself in the safe haven of his father’s arms. And there was enough of Adam Cartwright left to realize that nothing could harm him here. Then the dyke broke as his crying intensified, but still no tears, and he sunk deeper into an abyss of self condemnation and loathing. His father’s voice grew more distant as if he himself was being pulled down a long, dark tunnel. Gradually, he quieted as sleep pulled its gentle blanket over him and sealed his heavy eyelids. For now he was allowed peace; but it wasn’t to last.
*******
It was still dark when Adam awoke. Cautiously, he looked around him. The firelight illuminated a circle in the pitch of night and cast undulating shadows as it flickered. There were two shapes in their unfurled bedrolls, but in Adam’s fevered mind he only saw one, and he knew he had to escape. He had to escape from Peter Kane.
But as he threw his covering back and started to get up a firm hand gripped his arm and someone was asking: “Where you agoin’?”
Adam’s head snapped around and there were those blue eyes, but these weren’t the same ones. A light that shown in them soothed rather than agitated, spoke of kindness rather than cruelty and looked at him in a way that wasn’t threatening.
“I think you’d best just lay on back down,” he said.
But Adam didn’t answer. How could he? What would he say? And if he spoke he was afraid of betraying himself. He was a coward. He was an animal. He was a cowardly animal, and he didn’t want anyone to know. He knew and that was bad enough.
He lay back against the hard ground and stared up at the sky. And words began playing through his mind. Words that he wished he could forget, better still, wished he’d never heard. But he had heard them, and they would be with him for the rest of his life. His life. He wasn’t even sure what that was anymore. Had he ever even had a life? Did anyone?
“I win, and I’ll always win,” Kane seemed to whisper in his ear. “You can’t beat me. Not now.”
Adam’s eyes clamped shut, and his fingers knotted in the blanket beneath him. How he wanted to close out that voice, but he knew it would never leave him. It would be there until he died. Death. Right now that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.
He turned away from the fire. Did he want to die? Did he honestly want to die? Maybe and maybe not. No maybe about it, he didn’t. He wouldn’t have fought so hard against everything that had been thrown at him if he did. At one point it may have entered his mind to simply get it over, but it hadn’t lasted. Peter Kane had wanted to die, but he didn’t. And he wouldn’t give his tormentor the satisfaction of knowing that he’d won.
“No, you won’t win,” he thought. “I won’t let you. I can’t. I’m Adam Cartwright and I don’t give in so easily.” But then the smallest moan left him. “But did you win?”
Once again sleep crept in to soothe away the pain. But it was a tortured, fitful slumber. And as he tossed and screamed out the name ‘Kane’ he wasn’t aware of three sets of troubled eyes watching him.
+++++
Another day drug by as a snake would over a slab of ice. The sun blazed overhead and relentlessly baked everything for miles on end. Today the eyes looking at him from the other side of the wagon were green, and he saw a curly headed little boy with a knack for mischief. But as quickly as it came to him it just as quickly vaporized.
“You can’t escape from me now, Cartwright, anymore than you could before.”
Adam scrunched his eyes together and hid his face against his arms propped
on his knees. Oh, if only he could erase that hideous voice from his memory.
“Go away,” his mind pleaded. “Just go away.” His fingers dug into his upper arms until the ends of his nails were stained.
He lurched to the side and was only dimly aware that the wagon had stopped. His head raised as coolness splashed on his arms, and he marveled at the red crescent moons cut into the flesh. There was no pain, and he watched as his father’s hands deftly ministered to them. Crimson-tinted rivulets trickled down to drip into the wagon bed and they held an odd fascination for him.
Then the canteen was held to his lips, and he gulped in an effort to get as much as he could before it was taken from him.
The long arduous trek continued over terrain that defied man’s existence. Rocks and sand and parched earth and no water, and it stretched for as far as the eye could see. And the blistering rays of the sun only added to its starkness. But Adam Cartwright, so immersed in his own thoughts, took no notice of it. He didn’t see the clear blue sky and the white puffs of clouds or the ominous circling of buzzards off in the distance as they waited patiently for something to die. He only saw the dismal past and what had been his life for the past two grueling weeks.
Again he put his head down against his arms, but he didn’t close his eyes because he knew what he would see when he did. Only it made no difference, he saw it anyway.
Why hadn’t he just kept on walking? Why hadn’t he just walked into the barren landscape to perish from heat and thirst? Terrible as that would have been could it be any worse than the living purgatory Kane had put him through? Would it have been any worse than what he was suffering now?
And what about his father and brothers? What would it have been for them, not to know whatever happened to him? Someday his bones would have been found bleached by the sun and scattered by coyotes and other carrion eaters. He snorted with mirthless humor. He’d never thought of himself as carrion. But at least he would have been spared the nightmarish ordeal that he’d been subjected to at the whims of Peter Kane. And that made him realize that death at the hands of nature would have been the lesser of the two evils.
The day drug its way languidly into another night and it was as restless as the previous one. Hideous images teased him and laughed at him.
He found himself back in the encampment, and he was alone, gloriously, blissfully alone. But things were distorted and twisted. Everything was as it had been, but it was misshapen and out of kilter. First he went to the awning over the table and stool, and then he made his way to the mouth of the cave. He peered inside and called out, but was only answered by a faint echo. Then he turned around and saw it; a body with black hair silvering at the sides lying face down in the sand with arms and legs outstretched. He knew it hadn’t been there a moment ago. Slowly and cautiously, he made his way closer to the man and stooped by him. The clothes were familiar, but right now he couldn’t place them. “Mister,” he said as he reached out. “Mister, are you all right?” When he got no answer he grasped the man’s shoulder and turned him onto his back. It was Kane! Adam drew back as the cold blue eyes flashed open, and Kane began to laugh. The insidious laughter grew louder and more frenzied, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t close it out. Then it wasn’t Kane anymore. It was him! “You’re an animal! You’re an animal!” he was screeching, but in Kane’s voice. Then someone was saying his name, and he looked around. “Pa?” Ben extended a hand out in front of him. “Come to me, son. Come to me.” The laughter died out as Adam started toward him. “Come to me,” Ben said again. But just as Adam got to him he turned into Kane, and he was wearing Ben’s clothes and was laughing again. Adam lunged for him, but in a blink of light he was the one on the ground and Kane was on top of him with his hands around his throat choking the life out of him and shouting into his face. “No more games! No guns! There’s no gold!” And then things started to fade into blackness. “Come back to me, son!” he heard his father saying desperately. And then someone was shaking him.
+++++
The third day ended as they left the unforgiving furnace behind them. In another two days they would be home. But that made no difference to Adam Cartwright. He was still trying to sort things out in his ravaged mind, and the only thing perfectly clear to him was that he had lost control, and he was ashamed. He still couldn’t bring himself to look into anyone’s eyes for fear that the shame would show itself, and worse than his knowing was his family finding out. That frightened him as more than anything and this was the only way to keep his reprehensible secret.
The Homecoming
Adam paid little attention, but a tiny voice in the back of his head told him that he was home as he was led into the parlor. He was steered to a chair near the giant hearth and eased down into it. Then those warm, comforting coffee brown eyes were looking into his face, but he still refused to look into them. He’d come to the point where he saw his father and brothers and knew who they were. But he still didn’t talk to them because he was afraid of what would come out when he did.
“I’ll be right back, son.”
But instead of watching his father go to talk with his brothers at the front door his attention was turned to the chair he sat in. With child-like wonder he rubbed his hands over the soft blue cloth covering it. A stray picture of a roaring fire and a guitar came and was just as quickly gone. He looked up to the fireplace and it was as cold and dead as he felt inside.
“You can’t win, Cartwright, so why don’t you just quit. I’m a better man and we both know it. I won.”
“No, you’ll never beat me,” Adam said under his breath.
“I already have.”
Adam’s eyes squeezed shut, and his fingers dug into the arms of the chair.
“Face it, you’re a loser.” Kane’s diabolical laugh filled his ears. “And an animal.”
“Nooooo!” Adam growled and jerked to his feet. “You’ll never win!”
“I already have,” Kane said calmly.
Defeat slumped Adam’s body as he covered his face. Strong hands took his arms and settled him back into the chair. “It’s all right, son. Everything’s going to be all right.”
+++++
That night at supper Adam sat in his usual place at the end of the table across from his father. He watched as immense hands cut his roast pork for him. He felt the presence hovering over him. He reached for the food with his fingers, and his hand began to shake. “Eating with your fingers like an animal,” he heard Kane’s voice snarl, and his hand shook harder. The fork was placed in it and it was taken in a firm, secure grip and guided to spear a piece of the meat. The touch of his bigger brother had a calming effect, and he was able to get the bite into his mouth, but it had no real taste.
He fed himself like a puppet being manipulated by someone unseen. The food was bland and flavorless as a sheet of paper, and he ate less than half of it. But the thing he went after with a vengeance was the water. The goblet was quickly emptied and had to be refilled twice.
Slowly and tiredly, he pushed his chair back from the table. With listless eyes directed away from his family he turned and went through the parlor, but he didn’t look at what was around him. Like a sailing captain steering his ship around familiar shoals in a storm he navigated around the furniture without really seeing it. But as he reached the first step at the bottom of the stairs, he stopped. He looked at his hand resting on the cap of the newel post and felt the smooth contours of the wood beneath his fingertips.
“How’s that, Pa?”
“Let me take a look…. Fine, son, fine. I couldn’t have done a better job. You know, at the rate we’re going we should be moved in by the time the snow flies.”
“I hope so, Pa, I hope so.”
Adam’s fingers began to quiver, and he clenched them into a tight fist to get them under control. Then, with a shuddering breath, he started up the stairs, willing his legs to do his bidding. His footfalls seemed to repeat themselves on the treads and down the hall, and then he stopped.
“It’s the last one on the right,” came as Joe’s soft voice behind him.
Without looking back or even acknowledging that he heard, Adam walked to the last door on the right and went inside.
+++++
The bedroom was shrouded by the dark of the new moon and the big ranch house was ominously silent. A light rain pelted softly against the window glass as Adam lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling. The blackness was a blank canvas, and his mind’s eye painted in scenes and images. Memories from his past were mingled with the horror he’d gone through in the desert. Amelia Terry strangled by Peter Kane. Ed Payson shot by Peter Kane. Delphine Marquette beaten to death by Peter Kane. He bolted out of bed and as he did his legs buckled, and he hit the floor with a rough thump.
“Coward,” he growled into the gloom.
Adam got to his feet and walked to the window and raised it. The damp, pine-scented air filled his lungs and tried its best to rejuvenate, but its efforts were wasted. He sat down in the floor and, leaning against the wall, looked out into the night. A fragrant breeze ruffled his heavy black hair and caressed his cheeks. The cool, soft rain pattered gently in his face, and his nightshirt began to cling to his skin with it. But he didn’t care. For the first time in he couldn’t be sure how long he felt at truly peace. A soft voice began singing a Swedish lullaby, and his eyelids were growing leaden. “Inger,” he said on a breath as his eyes slowly closed.
+++++
“He’ll be all right,” a familiar voice was saying. “Of course, I don’t think it would’ve gotten this good a hold on him if he hadn’t already been rundown. But any time you go to sleep by an open window and let it rain on you in the chilly night air it’s not going to do you any favors.”
Tired eyes searched until they found the purveyor of the sage words. It took almost a minute for Adam to recognize the squarely built man standing with his father. Paul Martin, the doctor in Virginia City, had been a friend of the family since he himself was a boy, and he couldn’t know of Adam’s shame, so when he turned, the dark hazel eyes lowered.
“Good, you’re awake,” Paul said as he came to him.
As he stepped to the bedside, Adam thoroughly refused to look at him.
“It’s been that way since we found him,” Ben said. “He won’t look into anyone’s eyes or, more to the point, won’t let them look into his. It’s almost as if he’s afraid of what they might see there.”
“That’s exactly what it is, Pa,” ran through Adam’s mind. “I can’t let anybody see my shame; see what I did.”
“That’s understandable,” Paul said, “after what he went through, and we may never know what that was. And if it was so bad as to drive Adam Cartwright to this…”
“You mean his mind? But, Paul…”
“Let’s talk about this downstairs so he can get some rest.”
Adam felt a hand against his sweaty forehead.
“Not too bad. Now you get some sleep. You need to get back on your feet.”
Adam still refused to look or answer. But he did listen as the doctor gave
instructions to Ben for the care and feeding of his oldest son. The door closed,
and he finally turned his attention back into the room. Again, he found himself
delightfully alone. But his relish was short-lived as a roving thought intruded
on his solitude. “Am I losing my mind?” He flung an arm over his eyes.
+++++
The quiet room was suddenly alive with energy and vigor as Hop Sing bustled in. Adam’s gaze flitted to him, but too rapidly for eye contact. The little cook had a bowl, spoon and napkin.
“Doctor say you need eat and get plenty of liquid. Hop Sing know how much you like his egg drop soup so I bring big bowl.” He sat everything on the bed table and spread the napkin over Adam’s chest. “Now you want feed self and or want Hop Sing to?”
But Adam simply turned his head aside.
“I think you like feed self,” Hop Sing said, some of the vim gone from his voice. “But it better be gone when come back.” And he shook a chastising finger at his boy. But the smile soon faded, and he left the room.
Adam wasn’t in the mood to eat; nothing had any aroma or taste anymore. These days the only thing he seemed to relish was water and once he got started he couldn’t seem to drink his fill. Slowly, his eyes drifted toward the bowl. As much as he adored Hop Sing’s egg drop soup with its tiny fried noodles, the thought of food made him shiver. But he knew that if he didn’t eat a little Hop Sing would round on him and right now he didn’t want a lecture, he had enough to deal with.
He gingerly picked up the bowl and spoon and took a wary taste of the hot soup.
When Hop Sing returned, Adam was asleep. A smile turned the corners of the
little cook’s mouth as he noticed the empty bowl. Lightly, he pulled the bedspread
over Adam’s shoulder, then took the bowl, napkin and spoon and silently padded
back out.
+++++
It had been nine days since Adam’s homecoming and nothing had changed as far as his mental state went, in fact, he may have become even more withdrawn. He was finally up and around, though weak as a kitten, and he never went anywhere other than the parlor, dining room or his own bedroom.
Adam sat in his favorite chair staring into the fire, but seeing only sun-scorched nothingness. He was perfectly motionless, and only his breathing gave away that he was still alive.
So consumed in his own private wasteland was he that he didn’t notice Joe sitting on the end of the table watching him. He didn’t see the emerald eyes locked on his face, probing and searching for some small remnant of his brother.
“Adam. Adam, if you hear me, won’t you let me know? Can’t you just look at me?”
Adam felt his gentle touch on the back of his hand, and his breathing staggered, but still he couldn’t bring himself to look into his little brother’s face. He couldn’t run the risk that Joe would read in his eyes what he’d done. The thought of his family hating him or being ashamed threatened to drive him from them. With a deep sigh, he lowered his eyelids and leaned his head back against the chair. “I’m sorry, Joe,” he thought. “I just can’t let you in, not yet.”
“You’re not being fair. If you only knew what this is doing to Pa.”
Adam’s fingers tightened on the arms of the chair and the muscles in his jaw tensed, but he wouldn’t look.
“You can her me. Adam, we’re your family, and we want to help you through this. I don’t know what happened to you out there, but could it be so bad that it’d make you turn away from us?
Adam’s body went rigid, and he swallowed hard.
“Don’t let it, whatever it was. And whatever it was it couldn’t be bad enough that we’ll ever turn away from you. Never.”
“If you only knew, little brother, you might think differently,” Adam thought. “But you won’t know. I can’t let you. I can’t let any of you.”
“Adam. Adam, please.”
The caring hand was taken away and the sound of boots walking off was indistinct in Adam’s ears, but he sensed that he was alone again. Slowly, he looked around him. Except for him, the room was empty. Twisting at the waist, he turned back to the fire, and his own tortured world. He didn’t see Hoss sitting on the top stair watching him like a protective mother bear.
+++++
“Kane!”
Adam awoke in a cold sweat. His hair clung to his head like a close, black cap, and his heart pounded. Panting hard, he sat up and looked around him. He wasn’t in that dismal camp in the desert, but safe in bed in his own home. But was he as safe as he thought he was? Could he ever be safe as long as Peter Kane lurked in his mind?
He hid his face in his hands. “You can’t win,” he thought. “I can’t let you win.”
The door flung open and Ben stood in the doorway with a low lamp, its warm glow enrobing the room. Adam’s head shot up, but his eyes immediately darted away.
“Adam?”
He listened as Hoss and Joe asked if he was all right, and his father shooed them on back to bed. Then he felt a weight next to him, and he flopped back against his pillow.
“You know, son, you’d feel a whole lot better if you’d just talk about it.”
But Adam didn’t want to talk about it, he couldn’t and most of all not with his family.
“I don’t pretend to know everything,” Ben went on, “but I do know my oldest son. And I know when he’s feeling guilt.”
Adam felt the reassuring pressure of his father’s hand on his shoulder. His fists bunched at his sides, and he wanted to tell Pa so many things, but he just couldn’t run the risk.
“Was it the man on the travois? What did he have to do with what you went through? Did he do this to you?”
“Oh, Pa, leave it alone, please!” he shouted in his mind.
“I can’t just sit by and watch you go through this without doing something. Talk to me…. One word, for now, I only ask for one word.”
Adam’s fingers dug into the palms of his hands, but the word wasn’t forthcoming as he shook his head vigorously.
“All right, son, we’ll try again later. But if it’s over something you’ve done or think you’ve done, just remember that there’s no shame in being human…. Good night.”
He felt the consoling squeeze on his shoulder, and then the weight lift from the bed. The soft lamp light left the room and the door closed.
Adam had never felt so desolate in his life. He’d just turned away the comfort and understanding that his father afforded, and it hollowed out his insides. He’d gone too far to turn back now, he had to see this thing through, no matter how long it took or even if it drove him mad. If it hadn’t already.
He grabbed the other pillow and capped it over his face. Oh, how easy it would be to put an end to this nightmare that there seemed to be no waking from. “No!” he screeched and threw the pillow across the room. “Then you’d win.”
He bent his long legs and leaned forward against them. He was reaching the end of his rope. But no matter the cost, he couldn’t let Peter Kane win. And he couldn’t give up. He wasn’t put together that way.
The Return
As was commonplace these days, Adam sat in his favorite chair staring into the fireplace, even when there was no fire. He heard the low voices and knew they belonged to his family.
“Look at ‘im. About all he does is sit and look into the fireplace. He doesn’t talk and when he does it’s to somebody who isn’t there. It’s been almost a month, and he isn’t getting any better. If anything, he’s getting worse.”
“Joseph!”
“I don’t think he hears me. At first, I think he did, but not anymore. I don’t think he hears anything, except maybe what’s in his head. Pa, we’ve got to do something for ‘im. I don’t know about anybody else, but I can’t stand watching this anymore.”
“Joseph, he’s your brother.”
“We know that, Pa, but dadburnit, Joe’s right. We gotta do somethin’ for ‘im before we lose ‘im for good, if’n we ain’t already.”
The voices went silent and Adam found himself tensing in anticipation of the next words. And then they came.
“All right, I’ll talk to Paul the next time he comes out to check on him.”
“But, Pa, no tellin’ when…”
“That’s it, Hoss. I said I’ll talk to him. Now, you’d better get going. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done today and without me and Adam your going to be shorthanded.”
“It’s not going to go away, Pa.”
“I know that, Joe.”
“Do you?”
After a short silence there were the sounds of the door closing and boots crossing the front porch. After that time drug, and he wasn’t sure how much had passed when he felt a light touch on his arm.
“Son, I’ve got to go out to the tool shed for a few minutes, but Hop Sing will be right here if you need anything. And I’ll leave the front door open…. Adam, do you hear me?”
But Adam still couldn’t bring himself to look at him, and he continued to focus on the charred logs.
“All right, son.”
He listened intently as his father walked out, but still he couldn’t look around.
“They think I’m crazy, and who’s to say they aren’t right,” Adam thought. “But crazy people don’t think they’re crazy, and they certainly don’t worry about it. Ross didn’t.” His fingers tightened on the chair arms. “I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy.”
As he sat there he heard a loud crash come from outside, but it didn’t really register. He was so consumed with his own thoughts that it didn’t occur to him that it was anything he should worry about.
Then someone stepped in front of him.
“Mista Adam! Mista Adam, you look at me! Wind blow tree on shed with father inside! Everybody gone and nobody to help! Mista Adam, you come!”
Adam slowly looked at him. “Pa?” As he came to his feet, Hop Sing took his hand as he had when the boys were small and led him out.
As they went outside the fierceness of the wind caught Adam by surprise and blew him into the hitch rail. They went around the side of the house to the weathered little building where tools, rope and other implements were kept, and Adam froze in his tracks when he saw it. The half dead pine that they had threatened to cut down for years had finally toppled and had fallen across one end of the structure.
“You come,” Hop Sing said and gave a tug.
As they went inside they coughed. Adam’s eyes scanned the disarray of scattered tools and splintered wood. Light filtered in through the shattered roof and haze created by the settling dust. And then they lit on the sight that shot through him like a bolt of lightening. His father, apparently unconscious, lay in the floor on his back, one of the roof joists across his chest. There was a gash over his right eye and blood had run down into his silver hair and stained it red.
As Adam started forward, Peter Kane’s biting voice sounded next to him. “Let ‘im die. You don’t need ‘im.”
Adam looked around and fire sparked ominously in his eyes. “It’s you I don’t need,” he hissed. “Now be gone.” Before him the vision of Peter Kane faded into oblivion.
“Who you talk to?”
But Adam didn’t answer. Turning back, he went immediately to his father’s side and tenderly placed a hand against his face. Pa was alive, and he intended to do what was necessary to make sure he stayed that way. Without much thought and acting more on instinct, he hefted the beam and moved it off to the side. It was more unwieldy than it was heavy. He stooped again, and his hand trembled as he lightly touched the blood in his father’s hair.
Then, with the kind of strength that some would call superhuman, Adam gathered his father into his arms and started back to the house. He didn’t really feel his father’s inert weight, his only concern was to get his pa to bed and get Doc Martin out there.
Once inside, Hop Sing dashed around in front of him and rushed up the stairs. Navigating the staircase was difficult, but Adam kept right on going. When he got to his father’s room, Hop Sing had the bed turned down and a basin of water and cloths waiting on the bedside table.
Delicately, Adam placed his father on the soft mattress and sat down next to him.
“Hop Sing have to go to town for doctor. You be all light?”
With a half nod, Adam plunged a cloth into the water and wrung it out then began washing the blood from his father’s forehead.
“Good, I go chop-chop,” Hop Sing said then bustled out of the room.
Adam worked silently, his eyes never leaving his father’s face. He dipped the cloth again in the reddening water and lovingly sponged the blood from the silver hair.
“If it’s over something you’ve done or think you’ve done, just remember there’s no shame in being human,” Pa had said. And any human being could be pushed too far. He had stopped himself before he’d taken a life. Then he’d tried to save that very life, the life of the one that had driven him to the edge of madness. The only shame had been in his mind. His father had told him so. But it had taken this long to see it.
“Don’t you go, Pa,” he whispered. “I need you.” He took his father’s hand and clasped it between both of his. Then his head dropped and tears seeped through the fans of thick, black lashes.
+++++
Adam sat in the large overstuffed chair watching Paul Martin attend to his father, his eyes locked on the doctor’s every movement. His elbows were propped on the arms, and his hands were tented, his index fingers tapping together with a steady rhythm. He hadn’t left his father since the accident and nothing could drive him off now.
Paul was obviously uneasy with the steady dark hazel gaze boring in on him. “Adam, I do know how to take care of an injured man. Now, once again, why don’t you go downstairs with your brothers?”
But he got no answer. Adam had no intentions of going anywhere until he knew for sure that his father was all right. And nothing short of killing him would prevent it.
Then there was a groan and Ben began to stir. Adam’s fingers stopped, and his breath caught as he watched the coffee eyes flutter open.
“Take it easy, Ben,” Paul said calmly. “Aside from a nasty gash over your right eye, you’ve got yourself quite a bump on your head and some cracked ribs.”
Ben tried to sit up, but the groan intensified, and Paul eased him back onto the bed.
“Now let that be a lesson to you,” Paul said sternly.
“My son, Paul? Where’s Adam?”
“He’s right here, and has been the whole time,” Paul said with a cutting glance backward. “According to Hop Sing he hasn’t been away from you since the accident.”
Adam watched as the beloved eyes searched until they found him and the warm, comforting smile that he and his brother’s had grown up filled his heart, and Adam returned it.
“Paul, could we have a few minutes alone?”
Paul looked from one Cartwright to the other. “All right, but only because I know better than to try to stop it. But not too long, you need your rest.”
Ben agreed to the terms, and the doctor left the room. Once they were alone Adam went to the side of the bed and Ben felt his heart swell as his son looked into his eyes. His boy had come back to him, and he didn’t need words to tell him so. He held up his hand and it trembled slightly, and it was taken in a firm, strong grasp.
“Adam.”
“I won, Pa…. We won.”
“Yes, son, we won.”
THE END