Into the Breach
by
Janice Sagraves

This is for Colleen, without whose assistance, insight and knowledge it quite possibly would not have seen the light of day. These stories are independent from all the others I have written and do not coincide, this is simply a ‘what if’.

June 9, 1863

“To know what is right and not do it is the worst cowardice.” -- Confucius (551 – 479 BCE) Chinese Philosopher

ONE

It was still dark as the inside of a Jersey milk cow and a dense fog hung about everyone and everything like a misty shroud as the men of the Army of the Potomac prepared to ride into destiny. They had bedded down for the night under the protection of the stars with the reins of their unsaddled horse wrapped securely about their wrists as they slept fully clothed and booted. Camp had been set up without any fires so therefore no hot food or coffee. It was now approaching the three o’clock hour in the a.m. and mortal sleep had been cut short, and as they labored in preparation to head out, all knew that before long many could rest in the cradle of eternal sleep from which there was no waking.

First Lieutenant Adam Cartwright stood in the pitch darkness getting his horse ready to ride out. She was a fine animal – though green as a gourd when he had first gotten her, it had taken gentle patience to turn her into a fine cavalry mount – but she wasn’t Sport. He yearned to have his long time friend with him but he was glad the big chestnut was safe back on the Ponderosa, and he hoped Hoss didn’t pamper and spoil him too much.

Over from him, though he could only hear them, his two friends were making ready as he and the other men were.

He settled the saddle on the mare’s back and his mind went to the photograph that he carried inside his jacket. It had become a part of his routine that every morning and every evening he would take it out and look at it but this morning that wasn’t possible. It had come to him right at Christmastime and had made that first one away from home a little easier. The faces of his father and brothers and Hop Sing filled his mind’s eye in the fog cloaked darkness. He could just imagine Hoss and Joe wheedling and cajoling the little cook into having his picture taken with them.

He had been with the 10th New York Cavalry since August of ‘62 and this wasn’t his first action, but this time he felt a sense of pride that had never been there before. Since the beginning of the war the Federal Cavalry had been consistently defeated and humiliated by the excellent horsemen in gray and butternut. But things had come a long way since General Joseph Hooker had replaced McClellan and whipped the mounted contingent in blue thoroughly into shape. Adam had the utmost confidence that this time they would make a good showing. It was time to earn their spurs and every man felt that when they got the chance to take on Jeb Stuart’s boys again they could show what they were made of.

“Adam,” came as the voice of First Lieutenant Kensington Lane.

“Yeah, Kensey.”

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, sure, if I can,” Adam said as he fastened the girth around the animal’s belly.

“We have no real idea how things are going to go today or for sure who we’ll meet up with out there.”

“That’s true.”

“If we get into some heavy fighting…” Kensey said as he turned. “If you see that or even think I’m going to do something cowardly… I want you to shoot me.”

Adam felt his heart sink into his feet. “You’d never do anything like that.”

“Well, I certainly don’t plan on it, but after what we’ve been through I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time until I do something thoroughly stupid.”

“I already have,” Second Lieutenant Granville Alexander Midgewell III griped from his dark corner.

“All right, but only if you’ll promise to do the same for me,” Adam went on as if he hadn’t even heard the quip.

“It’s a deal,” Kensey fired right back.

They worked on in the black for several seconds with a low voice grumbling unintelligibly the whole time.

“What is it now, Midge?” Adam asked.

“If anyone ever tells me this is just a poor man’s war I’m going to spit in his eye,” Midge snapped. “In fact, when Dad insisted I join the cavalry and bought this commission for me I should’ve spit in his.”

“What’s the matter this time?” Kensey asked as he made sure his saddle was well seated on his horse’s back.

“The same thing that was wrong the last time and all the times before. I don’t wantta be here.”

“Well, now, Midge, none of us exactly do,” Adam chastised. “And what would your father say if he heard you talk that way?”

“I don’t give a hang what he’d think; it’s his fault I’m in here in the first place. It’s not that I don’t want to fight for my country but I wanted the artillery, but no, that wasn’t good enough, him and his glamorous cavalry. It’s not my fault he was too fat to sit a horse.” A derisive snort cut through the sounds of the night. “And he doesn’t know the front end from the back end of one any way.” There was the jingle of a bit as a horse shook its head. “I’m gonna go fill my canteen. Give me yours, and I’ll fill them too.”

Once Midge had collected the canteens they waited until they heard him walk away.

“In spite of his eternal grousing,” Adam said as he resettled the dark blue kepi over his heavy black hair, “he’s shaped into a fine cavalryman even though he couldn’t ride a broomstick when he first came.”

“Well, he didn’t have the luxury of growing up in one of the wild territories.”

“Or being the son of the breeder of some of the finest horses in the state of New York.”

“True,” Kensey said as he gave his horse a good pat on the neck. “But then being the son of a shipping magnate the deck of a ship doesn’t substitute well.”

They shared a light laugh, though neither really felt it.

“Now let’s finish up and as soon as Midge gets back we’ll see if we can find the others in all this,” Adam said as he hooked the other buckle of the breast collar to the saddle.

“Knowing Midge, he’ll probably fall in.”

“Knowing me, I’d like to join him. I’d rather drown than get shot any day.”

“I guess that makes two of us.”

Their chatter died out as they finished with their mounts and only the soft muted voices of their comrades and the occasional snort of a horse or the rattle of accoutrements enlivened the early morning gloom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Adam!”

Ben Cartwright sat straight up, instantly awake, his broad chest heaving violently beneath the nightshirt. His hands wadded in the bedspread until the skin stretched smooth over his knuckles and they turned white. It had all been so real, so very real.

He had never been one given over to nightmares, and when they did come they were real pips, but this had been more than a simple bad dream. It had been as if he were a spectator to the carnage of a battlefield and it left him sweating and shaken. The image remained in his head, drifting about like a song that one couldn’t quite get out of their mind. The colors and sights and sounds were so vivid and into the darkness of his room they still hung before him like a transparent vision projected onto a haze.

Sleep had been killed for the rest of the night, but he didn’t care if it would hold off the return of the dream. He didn’t know what time it was, and he had no way of knowing how far off dawn waited. Tossing back the covers he swung his legs over the side and his feet slapped the hardwood of the floor. Groping his way to the dresser he fumbled around until he found the small wooden box – its painted design now worn from use and faded with time – that had belonged to Inger that he kept the matches in. He took one out and struck it against the little keepsake and a diminutive flame sputtered to life filling the air with the pungency of sulfur. He lit the candle he kept sitting there for times when he needed light but didn’t want to fool with the lamp. Taking up his pocket watch, he read the time. Five minutes until three. The first shafts of light would come before long.

Riffling his fingers in his silver hair he stared at the small dot of fire. As he did, the whole thing began playing over in his brain again, and he could hear the gunfire and the roar of cannons, the shouts and screams, see the horses and men going down and the glint of light on flashing sabers. He blew out the candle and simply stood there in the comforting void.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had become a ritual among the men of the 10th New York to run their fingers over the jade disc Adam Cartwright carried before riding out. To a man they knew that time had run out for some of them and the gesture was for hoping it wasn’t your turn and good luck in whatever endeavor they took on. This time even Colonel Kilpatrick came forward and rubbed his fingers against the piece of polished green gemstone. Then the command was given to mount up.

Adam, Kensey and Midge exchanged handshakes as they always did then went to their horses. These three formed a triad of friendship that had been molded through practice and drill and tempered in the inferno of battle.

Then, with another command, the men quietly broke camp and rode off in preparation of crossing the Rappahannock.

TWO

It was quiet among the dense trees except for the gentle trill of awakening birdlife and the soft clatter of accoutrements as the troopers rode stealthily toward their destination and tensions were high. They would cross the Rappahannock River at Kelly’s Ford and link up with General Buford who would cross at Beverly’s Ford.

Adam Cartwright rode alongside Kensey Lane. Kensey, though not as tall as Adam by about three inches, sat ramrod straight, a snip of sandy red hair over his forehead and his sage green eyes locked ahead.

Adam then twisted in the saddle and looked behind him. It still wasn’t light enough and in the fog to see that far behind him but he knew Midge, which fit him much better than the mouthful of a name he found stuck to him like a leach, was back there. The boy, at five-foot-three, wasn’t exactly a butterball but he bordered on it and it was a never ending source of agitation to the young man. Even with his corn silk hair and clear aqua eyes and though not as lean or tall it gave Adam a sense of being around Joe. He grinned to himself and felt a rush of homesickness.

Normally, Adam loved a summer morn among the woods and back home there were plenty to get lost in, but this time he could find no solace or comfort among their heavy trunks. He raised his eyes as he turned back around and caught a patch of dark blue tinged with coral in the early dawn light and couldn’t help but see the Nevada sky. The thought that maybe he would never see it or his family again made his heart thump harder, and he tried to fight it off. There was enough to dwell on without getting morbid so he made himself stop.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ben pecked at his breakfast like a chicken as he sat at his end of the table, his eyes drilled straight ahead at the vacant chair across from him, though he didn’t really see it. His mind was still consumed by the dream, and he didn’t notice his sons watching him between bites. Nothing had any real taste or smell and went into his mouth by rote. Swallowing was automatic and only his stomach was aware that he was eating.

Joe Cartwright took a drink of his coffee, watching his father over the rim of the cup. Pa had been silent as a mouse all morning and had said little more than the occasional grunt. Since Adam had left nearly ten months ago he hadn’t quite been himself, trying to hide the fact, and not very well, that he was worried about his oldest son, but this was different. Before, in his quiet spells, which came more frequently these days, he had been more contemplative and sometimes a warm smile would creep over his face at some secret reminiscence, but this morning he seemed to be in another space and time. Joe’s deep emerald eyes drifted to his brother on the other side of the table, and he could see that Hoss was just as concerned.

Hoss Cartwright was a serious eater – as anyone who knew him could tell you, and he loved his food – but this morning that was the last thing on his mind as he watched his father. He knew how close Pa was to his older brother and what this separation and the fact that Adam had had been plunged into this awful war was doing to him. It wasn’t that he loved Adam any more but they were so much alike it was as if a part of him was missing. Not watching what he was doing Hoss’ knife slipped as he cut his ham and scraped over the plate, but Pa didn’t even notice as he absentmindedly took a bite. The troubled blue eyes shot around and met with his little brother’s and they communicated mutely.

“Pa, I’ve been thinking,” Joe said as brightly as he could, “that we’ve been working pretty hard lately, and I know that it’s only Tuesday but I was thinking that maybe we should go into town. Spend the day just doing nothing, stay at the International House, and then come back home in the morning.”

“I think that’s a right good idea, don’t you, Pa?”

But Ben just continued to stare blankly ahead as if they weren’t even in there.

“Pa,” Hoss said as he reached out and took his father’s arm and the eyes that came to his face made him flinch. He had seen his father troubled, he had seen him upset, and angry and uncertain before but this was none of those and totally alien and it shook Hoss to his very foundation. “Did you hear Joe?”

“Joe, no, I’m sorry son, what did you say?”

“Just that we should go into Virginia City and stay the night and just get away from the Ponderosa for a little while.”

“No, Joe, we can’t do that, there’s too much that needs to be done here.”

“Well, one day ain’t gonna hurt nothin’, Pa.”

“I said ‘no’,” Ben said forcefully. “We don’t have time to lollygag around when there’s serious work that needs to be done and the sooner you two grow up and realize that the better. Now finish your breakfast and let’s get at it.”

“Yes, sir,” Hoss said meekly.

Then those stern, harsh coffee eyes turned on Joe.

“All right, Pa, whatever you say.”

The rest of breakfast was consumed in silence with quick, furtive glances exchanged between brothers. This wasn’t like Pa, even in Adam’s absence, and it unnerved them more than a trifle, and they didn’t know what to do to help, but they felt they had to do something.

Afterward, Ben was the first to put on his hat and gun belt and go outside with the strong suggestion that they not drag their feet.

“I dunno, Joe. I ain’t never seen ‘im like this. It’s like he don’t even know where he is.”

“I think it has something to do with Adam, and I havta admit that I’ve felt a little uneasy myself this morning.”

“I think it’s just bein’ around Pa is all. He’s got me spooked too.”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t feeling something.”

Joe could almost feel his brother’s eyes drilling through him, and he didn’t need to ask the question again. When he had awakened he had bore a sense of unrest and couldn’t begin to know why then he saw his father and had an idea.

They finished gearing up then went out after their father, Joe buckling his gun belt.

After father and sons left the house Hop Sing began clearing the table. Joe and Hoss hadn’t been the only ones to notice the way their pa was behaving. Those intense obsidian eyes missed very little and that impenetrable intellect was constantly focused on his surroundings and the family he served.

He stacked the empty plates atop each other, but as he turned for the kitchen his eyes caught upon the empty chair where the first-born always sat. The image of the eldest Cartwright son played before him, tall and straight, black-haired and hazel-eyed with a flashing smile. Many times that one’s quick wit had marveled him and made him grin, even if only in secret.

A sharp breath rattled through him, and his fingers tightened on the crockery. He batted his eyes to clear the mental picture from them then went back into his realm. Just as he placed them on the counter next to the sink a notion came to him, and his chore was temporarily set aside. He went to the other side of the kitchen and past the fireplace next to the large cast iron stove to the small room he called his.

He turned to the small chest by the door where he kept the black lacquered box with mother-of-pearl inlays. It had come all the way from Hong Kong with him and in it he kept his most treasured possessions. Deftly, he raised the lid and there was the little green jade dragon as he had placed in it so many months back. He gently grasped it and lifted it from where it nested and beneath was an envelope. Across the front of it in the bold handwriting of the first-born read: To my family. To be opened if I am lost. His heart rate picked up and his eyes misted. The contents of the letter it contained he had not read since it wasn’t addressed to him but he guessed at it, and it made his throat clog with emotion. Lightly, he placed his fingertips against it, closed his eyes and said a prayer to the ancestors. When he finally opened them a lone tear ran down his cheek, and he replaced the little good luck symbol, making sure that it covered the lettering.

With the gentleness he would give a child, he lowered the lid and simply stared at the box. Its color reminded him of the first-born in so many ways and the image returned even more strongly and it was as if Ben Cartwright’s oldest son was in the room with him. The corners of his mouth curved up then, with a heavy sigh, he turned and went back into the kitchen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The fog had pretty much burned off when Major General J.E.B. Stuart – sipping his morning coffee and still fuzzy from sleep – grew alert as the sound of distant gunfire shattered the morning solitude.

THREE

Soon they would be crossing the Rappahannock. Adam looked up at the sky and – though it was still pretty much obscured by the thick trees – deduced it to be around seven or eight o’clock in the morning. His fingers tightened on the reins, and he glanced over at Kensey, who was too focused ahead to notice. He had no idea what would be there when they crossed the river but, judging from the distant gunfire, it would most likely be the enemy. He inhaled sharply. It was difficult to think of the men they would face on this day as the enemy. They were all of the same country and shared the same forefathers, though they weren’t kin. A revolution had been fought to form this country and now this war was being fought to keep it whole, and so far as the men in blue were concerned, those that had donned gray were the enemy, and as any soldier was well aware, you killed the enemy. He swallowed the knot in his throat and straightened his back and set his dark eyes forward. Along with the dread that was perfectly normal, given the circumstances, a tingle of excitement ran along his spine. Before long they would meet their foe, and soon they would get the chance to show what they had learned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The same sense of foreboding that he had detected in his father had settled into Hoss. Pa and Joe had ridden out to inspect the herd more to get their father away from the house than anything, so Hoss was left on his own. He had been working in the barn since they had left though his heart wasn’t really in it.

He wasn’t doing anything in particular other than just general cleaning up and putting things to their right place, but at the moment the cow was getting fresh straw added to her stall. Rising up, he rubbed at the kink in his back then wiped sweat from his forehead. The task wasn’t so hard or grueling, especially for such a large, powerful man, but the June heat had wormed its way into the barn, though it was tamed somewhat by the cool shadows.

With a puff he went back at it and soon finished.

“Well, girl, that oughtta keep you comfortable for a while.” He gave the big brown cow a pat on the hip then leaned the pitchfork against the wall near the oat bin. “Now I wonder what else needs my attention.” He looked around then turned and as he did his eyes lit on the sleek chestnut in his stall.

Hoss’ heart began to thud in his large chest uncontrollably. Since he had come in he had deliberately avoided his older brother’s horse, he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the animal, and he didn’t understand why. Since Adam’s departure, Sport had fallen under his loving care and it had become a duty that he so thoroughly enjoyed. But on this day, for some reason, he felt apprehensive around the horse.

“Pa’s got you shook.” He wiped his sweaty palms onto his britches then went to the stall. “Mornin’, old son. How you doin’ today?” He gave the horse a healthy pat on the neck and found himself nuzzled by the satiny nose, and he took it and stroked along the blaze that ran between the animal’s eyes. “I see you was fed before they left. Probably Joe ‘cause Pa just weren’t up to it.” He gave another pat. “I bet you’d like a good curryin’. You ain’t had one since last night.” His face lit with a warming grin, and his soft blue eyes sparkled in what light entered.

As he got the stiff-bristled brush Hop Sing scuttled in through the big doorway, and he had a carrot in his hand.

“You know, between you an’ me this ol’ boy’s gonna be fat and bad spoiled by the time Adam gits back. He won’t even leave the barn before he gits a curryin’ an’ his mornin’ carrot.” He went into the stall and began running the brush from the horse’s withers along his back and rump.

“Sport for us to take care of now,” the little cook said as the end of the carrot crunched between the horse’s teeth. “That one thing Mista Adam not have to wolly about.”

“An’ right now he’s got enough on his mind.”

“Mista Hoss?”

“Yeah, Hop Sing,” Hoss said as he ran the brush down over Sport’s left shoulder.

“You think Mista Adam go into fight today?”

Hoss froze as his fingers tightened on the brush, and he felt his skin crawl then he looked around into those snapping obsidian eyes. “I spose. I mean he is right out there where it is.” He took a deep breath then went back to his brushing.

“That why Mista Ben so quiet. Fatha know when son go into danger, but not always know when loved one die because pain too heavy, even though not know it there.”

“Dadburnit, Hop Sing, why you gotta say things like that?” Hoss said as he whirled on the little man.

“I solly, but because I not say it not change anything, it still same.”

“I’m sorry too. I think we’re all a bit rattled today.”

Hop Sing’s face brightened. “Afta we finish here, why not we go into house. I just bake flesh ginger snaps. You have with cup of coffee and we talk.”

“I think that’s the best idea I heard in a long time.”

Sport continued working on the carrot and Hoss’ brushing became more vigorous. The two men’s eyes met for a split second and smiles were exchanged. This was one of those days you got through the best you could, and going it alone would only make it longer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joe rode alongside his father in unnatural silence, finding it difficult to keep his anxious emerald eyes from darting in that direction. Before, during and after breakfast Pa hadn’t said two bit’s worth of words, and this ride was turning out to be no different. Pa hadn’t been willing to talk about what was disturbing him, and Joe and his brother had known not to push it, but now he felt he needed to try again, if for no other reason than to speak what he had on his mind. And beside that, he still thought that going into town was a good idea, and he wasn’t ready to concede. He knew he could be forfeiting his scalp, but at this stage, he had grown reckless.

“Pa, Hoss and I were talking before we left, and we still think it would be good for all of us to go into town. We haven’t been in a few days.”

Ben didn’t even seem to hear him.

“I was talking with Leif Jessup yesterday, and he said they’ve got some new girls in at the Silver Dollar. One, he tells me, is the prettiest little redhead you’d ever wantta see. Name’s Polly, and she comes from back east, Pennsylvania I think he said.”

Ben remained rigid in the saddle, his left hand wadded on the reins, and his eyes, darker than Joe could ever remember them being, set dead ahead.

“Pa,” Joe said as he reached out and touched his father’s arm. “Pa.”

For several seconds he got no response. “I’m all right, Joe,” Ben said without looking around. “I just have a lot on my mind today.”

“Adam?”

Joe felt stark cold close in around him at the look in his father’s eyes. Now he knew what was plaguing his father and there was very little he could do about it, but still he would try.

“Pa, I think we should go into town.”

Abruptly, Ben reined in the big buckskin, and Joe did the same with the little paint.

“I think that’s a very good idea, Joseph. I need to see if maybe there’s a letter from Adam. But there’s no need for you and Hoss to go.”

“I think we should all go Pa,” Joe said as he seized his father’s arm.

Ben’s black brows lowered into a frown. “All right, but if there isn’t a letter we’ll come right back home, there’s still plenty of work to be done.”

Joe wasn’t completely happy with this but it was better than not going at all and maybe between him and Hoss they could talk their father into staying a little longer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The troopers splashed across the river and fell upon the men of the 2nd North Carolina like a horde of blue locusts. The annihilation of these soldiers watching the ford wasn’t the goal but to get through them as quickly as possible and head toward Brandy Station was.

A bullet whizzed past Adam’s head – just missing him – and plowed into the trunk of a tree. He didn’t have time to dwell on the near miss as he gave a fierce slash with his saber. At such close quarters, firearms were rendered practically useless, but that didn’t negate the possibility of being shot. It would take only one bullet to end his short-lived military career.

As his vision came around he caught sight of Kensey locked in a furious struggle with a rebel as they grappled with one another from horseback, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

Bedlam, chaos or pandemonium, any one of them would have been adequate to describe the furious struggle between men. Horses jammed into each other, sabers flashed and shouts filled the hot summer air as each contingent fought for supremacy.

A gun raised and pointed at Adam’s chest but a hack from Midge’s sword stopped the threat as the Confederate officer toppled from the saddle, his head laid open.

The skirmish was brief as the Federals cut a swath through the outnumbered Confederates and rode off toward their intended goal. The day was young yet and there still was much ground to cover and – if this was any indication – much fighting left to be done.

FOUR

Brigadier General David Gregg’s troopers – among them the 10th New York Volunteer Cavalry – trotted down the dry dirt road bold as a Philadelphia lawyer. It was hot and every man and horse was filmed with choking dust that cast a gray pallor over them. Their destination was still some distance off and they were running late.

Adam and Kensey looked at each other, and the sense of urgency betrayed itself in their eyes and faces and words weren’t exchanged, they would be completely superfluous and both men knew it. Adam glanced up and squinted against the brilliance and couldn’t help longing for the serenity and coolness of the mountains back home.

This thing wasn’t over by a good long shot, and every man there knew it. The riders clattered on as the sun spread its glare over the land and those that resided there.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was still morning when Ben, Joe and Hoss Cartwright rode into Virginia City, the father flanked on either side by his sons as if to protect him from some unseen force. They passed the livery stable and the International House and headed into the center of town. No real plans had been made for this sojourn; it was simply to try to distance Ben from what was troubling him, though his reason for coming was completely different.

Roy Coffee was the first to see them as they came in, but his smile faded as soon as he caught sight of Ben’s face. The two men had known each other long enough that no one had to tell Roy that something was wrong, and he could only guess that it had something to do with their coming into town.

“Mornin’, Ben, boys,” he said as the three men reined up in front of Sam Garrett’s store. “What brings you into town today?”

Ben dismounted and went straight inside as if his old friend wasn’t even there.

“Sorry about that, Roy,” Hoss said as he wrapped his reins around the hitch rail. “He ain’t much been hisself this mornin’, an’ he ain’t much for talkin’.”

“He’s had something on his mind all day,” Joe said as he stepped onto the boardwalk next to the sheriff.

“Is that why you come into town today?”

“We just wanted to git ‘im away from the ranch for a while. But we couldn’t talk ‘im into comin’, that is, ‘til the notion that they might be a letter from Adam struck ‘im then wild horses couldn’t keep ‘im away.”

“When’ve you heard from your brother? Been a while, ain’t it?”

“The second of this month,” Joe said as he pushed his hat back and a dark brown curl fell free, “but it was dated May seventeenth.”

“Yeah, I spose the mail is a mite slower these days, what with the war n’ all,” Roy said as he rubbed a finger along his mustache. “Some was brought in to ol’ Sam’s postal office just this yesterday. Maybe they’ll be somethin’ in it.”

Ben stepped out, his coffee eyes set at his feet and his face long and sullen.

“And then maybe they won’t,” Roy said half to himself as his eyes flicked to Joe.

“There wasn’t anything,” Ben said as his focus remained lowered.

“Well, it has only been eight days,” Joe said.

“But it was written last month. We don’t even know where he is or what he’s doing,” Ben said then his desolate eyes rose. “It’s not like him not to write.”

“Well, if’n I know Adam,” Hoss said as he rested a reassuring hand on his father’s shoulder, “he probably has, it just ain’t got to us yet.”

“I’m sure Adam doesn’t have a whole lot of time on his hands, so this we havta expect,” Joe said.

“I tell ya what,” Roy said briskly. “Why don’t the four of us go on over to Miss Fanny’s and git a cup o’ coffee and a piece of her apple pie.”

“Umm-umm,” Hoss smacked his lips, “I could git behind that. Miss Fanny bakes the best danged pies I ever eat.”

But Ben was lost in a cloud that their words couldn’t penetrate.

“Pa,” Joe said as he took his father’s arm. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea?”

Ben, however, just continued to stare a hole into space.

“Ben?”

Then Ben spoke and it came as the snapping of a brittle twig. “Let’s head on back to the Ponderosa. There’s no reason to stay here.”

“Pa, didn’t you hear what Roy said?” Hoss asked.

But Ben untied his horse and rose into the saddle, oblivious to his son. The brothers looked at each other then Roy, knowing that they had no choice but to do what their father said. They had never seen him quite like this and they suspected that an argument would most likely fall on deaf ears and any response would be a fiery command and not a polite suggestion.

With a shrug from both they undid their reins and got mounted.

“Sorry, Roy,” Hoss said barely above a whisper.

“I understand, son.”

“I’m glad somebody does,” Joe said and tugged his hat down in front.

Roy watched as they rode out of town, Ben leading his sons. The sturdy buckskin was kicked into a gallop and Joe and Hoss had to do the same to their horses to keep up with their father.

With a sigh Roy took his hat off and ran his hand back over his balding head as they disappeared around the hotel and past the livery stable. He knew his friend was distraught over his oldest son being so far away from home and in the midst of such danger – he had seen it in other men with sons off fighting – but today was different. Ben had been another person in another place, and he wished he knew why so he could do something to ease the man’s mind.

Ben’s thoughts were preoccupied with the dream that had jarred him so violently from his sleep. He knew it had to do with Adam even though his oldest son hadn’t been in it. There had been so many men of both the blue and the gray. He tried closing his mind to the clang of metal against metal as sabers made contact with one another. His fingers tightened on the reins, and his eyes set ahead as his knees squeezed into the horse’s sides, and the animal picked up speed.

Joe and Hoss exchanged troubled glances then surged forward to stop their father, or at least to get him to slow down before he hurt or, Heaven forbid, killed himself.

“Pa! Pa!”

But as the word came to his ears it was in a rich baritone, and his heart raced.

Joe leaned down and grabbed Buck’s bit in an attempt to slow him before he took a spill, and Hoss called to his father.

Something in Ben’s brain told him that the horse was slowing and gradually he returned to his senses. He looked into anxious blue eyes then around at Joe as Buck came to an abrupt stop. As he caught sight of those emerald eyes he began to tremble. Never had he felt this way, not even when he had lost three wives. It was a feeling like nothing he had ever experienced, and he couldn’t explain what it was if someone asked him. It was like helplessness rolled into fear then wrapped in apprehension and it thought to crush him. “Hoss,” he said weakly and his voice lacked its usual strength.

“You’re all right now, Pa.” Hoss gave one of his well-known comforting smiles. “Let’s go on home.”

“All right, son.”

They started on their way again at a less frenetic pace, and Hoss and Joe stayed on either side of him, and even closer than they had on their way into town. Pa wasn’t being Pa, and they needed to stay close.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For less than a second, Adam let his mind stray back to his family and his home. He knew the dangers of being distracted so the thoughts were fleeting. He wondered what they were doing and how they were getting on without him. The idea of leaving them shorthanded had troubled him, but what he was doing now was greater than the needs of one family. He didn’t regret his decision in the slightest and would willingly do it again, but still he held some guilt at leaving his father and brothers, even though this he was doing for them as well.

With a puff he brought himself back to the here and now and realized that he was thirsty. He had been riding for some time in the hot sun and stifling dust, and he needed a drink. He took his canteen from where it hung, opened it and took a slug, keeping his arm close to his body. The water was warm and stale but it eased his parched, clogged throat, so it served its purpose.

Closing the canteen, he hung it back and looked over at Kensey and smiled. Going into the maelstrom without him was something Adam didn’t like to think about. They, along with Midge, had kept each other alive more than once. They were brothers in arms and more than just friends. He felt toward them as he did Hoss and Joe, and he knew they felt the same, for they had told him so.

The smile gradually faded as he turned his attention back ahead of him and thought of where they were all headed.

FIVE

The brand-new young aide was desperate to find Colonel Wickham. General Stuart had entrusted him with this vital mission, and he couldn’t let his commanding officer down. He would find whom he sought and learn if the enemy had shown up in the direction of Stevensburg then return with the intelligence. His eyes glittered in the summer sun as they scanned about him then he gave his mount his knees and continued along the arid dirt road.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The family finally rode into the yard of the big, rough hewn log house. The remainder of the ride hadn’t been as harried and nerve jangling as the beginning of it. Pa had settled into it though conversation had suffered severely.

It was good to be home, even though the sense of dread that plagued Ben was strongest here. He hadn’t told his sons about the nightmare, and he didn’t really want to. It wasn’t that they would think him a silly old fool but he didn’t want to worry them. As a family they were prone to strong feelings toward one another – even when separated – and were sometimes able to sense when one was in trouble. Though it did seem that exceedingly intense emotion tended to cancel it out and – for whatever the reason – it didn’t always come. They had long ago ceased trying to figure it out and learned to live with it. They simply chalked it up to a deep abiding love for each other and that they didn’t question.

Ben went straight into the house without a word while Hoss and Joe took care of the horses.

“Joe, I cain’t never remember seein’ Pa like this,” Hoss said as he followed his brother into the barn.

“I know. Something’s preying on his mind. It’s like part of ‘im hasn’t been on the Ponderosa all day.”

“You don’t spose it has somethin’ to do with Adam do you? I know we ain’t heard nothin’ bad but sometimes Pa just knows.”

“I know that too,” Joe said as he brought the saddle from the paint’s back. “I wish he’d talk about it.”

“Well, you can just ask ‘im,” Hoss said as he rubbed the big black down. “I ain’t partial to havin’ my head thumped.”

“And you think I am?”

“If’n Pa wants to talk about it he will. But we’ll stay close to ‘im.”

“One of us still needs to go inspect the herd, and the other’ll stay here with Pa.”

“The herd’s gonna havta wait. I gotta take the wagon an’ run that load o’ fence posts out to the boys workin’ in the East range.”

“All right, we can get the other done tomorrow. I don’t think one day’s gonna make that much difference,” Joe said as he watched his brother put his horse in the stall.

As Hoss started out while Joe finished with Cochise something on the floor near a saddle stand caught his eye, and he bent down and picked it up.

“What’ve you got there, Hoss?”

“A rooster’s tail feather, a long shiny, black one,” he said as he pulled it through his fingers. “I bet ol’ Heck went plum into shame when he dropped this one.”

“What’re gonna do with it?”

“I ain’t decided yet, but it’s an awful purty one so’s I just may keep it,” Hoss said as he curled it up loosely and stuck it into a shirt pocket.

Joe grinned as he continued with his horse. It was a delight to watch how the wonders of nature still had an effect on his biggest brother. They held the innocent awe of a child for him, and Joe was glad that part of him hadn’t grown up.

Ben went right up to his bedroom in an effort to escape from the smell of Hop Sing’s cooking. The thought of eating didn’t exactly appeal to him right now. He pushed his door together but it remained slightly ajar as he simply stood there. His eyes locked onto the window on the other side of the room and the glorious vista beyond it. The sky had become bluer with the progression of the day and the sun brighter and its rays more golden, but none of it could touch Ben. His heart and his mind were elsewhere, more than they had been since Adam’s leaving. The dream was causing him the greatest consternation, and he didn’t know how to escape from its grasp.

His chest rose and fell with a ragged sigh, and he went to the heavy walnut dresser and opened the top drawer on the end nearest the window. On top of the mementos that he had collected over the years was the yellowed envelope that he wanted. He picked it up and inside he found that black lock of hair. Taking it out, he laid its holder down on the top of the large piece of furniture. He looked down at the hank between his thumb and fingers and the tears blurred his vision. It was soft as the day he had snipped it from his infant son’s head and just as precious.

He knew he should get at the work necessary to keep a ranch running, but he just didn’t have the heart for it. The feelings he was experiencing this day held him in a tight grip, and he couldn’t seem to shake them, try as he would.

With his keepsake clutched tightly in his fist, he went to the big chair with its nubby brown fabric and dropped heavily into it. He opened his hand and once again saw the wondrous little bundle that he had snubbed and scorned those first three days so many years back and it made his heart ache.

Leaning his head back he looked out the window and wondered where his oldest son was and what he was doing at that very moment. Had Ben’s nightmare been a portent of what awaited Adam on this day, as he feared it was? Was it a harbinger of things to come? And worst of all, did it foresee the death of his first-born child? He closed his hand until his fingernails bit into the palm and tried not to think such a thing.

“Protect him,” he whispered into the stillness. “Please protect him.” But he knew better than to close his eyes lest the visions of war return, and this time he could see what he didn’t want to.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Adam wasn’t the first to notice the young lieutenant riding toward the column as if he owned the road, and that wasn’t the only thing he took note of. He looked over at Kensey, who couldn’t keep the astonishment from his face.

The pace slowed ever so slightly as the man, obviously in a great hurry, drew closer, and it became evident that this officer wasn’t cloaked in dust as every man there was, but clad in gray. He rode right up to General Gregg, but it didn’t take long for the situation to register in his features as he found himself captured by the enemy and not greeted by comrades.

Adam looked down at his arm then nudged Kensey with his elbow. As his friend watched he gave his sleeve a good slap and – as dust filled the stagnant air – blue appeared. The corners of Kensey’s mouth turned and they both knew that they had been mistaken for Confederate cavalry. They also guessed that the young officer was new at this for a seasoned veteran would never make such a blunder.

As soon as the enemy officer was taken into custody they were underway again. They had an objective to make, and they didn’t have time to waste.

SIX

As they drew closer the sounds of the waning battle became more evident and seemed to embrace them and pull them in before they even got there. The mare between Adam’s legs was becoming fidgety and difficult to hold as she always did right before entering the fray. He gave her a healthy pat on the withers then looked around at Kensey and couldn’t miss the excitement edged with trepidation that lived in the depths of those sage green eyes. A message of unspoken words passed between them, and they kicked their horses faster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ben’s eyes sprung open as he jerked himself awake. His heart beat like a frenzied drum, and his breathing came in quick, jagged jerks. The hand in which he held the snip of hair was clenched so tight that it actually ached. As he opened it he saw immediately that his fingernails had cut red crescents into the flesh but he didn’t feel any of the accompanying pain.

It had all come again, but this time he had seen it. He had seen the horse go down, and his son hit the ground as the battle continued to rage, and he had heard himself screaming until he was hoarse for Adam to get up, but he didn’t. The tide of men and animals had surged around him until Ben lost sight of him in the melee, and that was when he awoke to a sore throat.

As he pulled himself lethargically up from the chair his sons burst in through the door without even knocking. He didn’t even notice the pastiness of their faces that made their blackened eyes stand out.

They rushed to their father, and Hoss was first to take his arm. “Pa, you all right? We heard you shoutin’ somethin’ fierce up here.”

Ben just looked at them hollow-eyed as if not to see them at all.

“Pa,” Joe started as he put a reassuring hand on his father’s shoulder, “you were saying Adam’s name.”

“I’m… I’m all right…. I just dozed off. I must’ve been dreaming.”

“Well, if’n you was it musta been somethin’ ‘cause you was shoutin’ ‘til they probably heard you in Sacramento. Pa, you ain’t been yourself all day an’ we thought you was gonna take a nasty spill out on the trail home an’ maybe break your neck.” His fingers squeezed on his father’s arm. “Pa, you wantta tell us what’s goin’ on?”

“There’s nothing going on,” Ben said tiredly with a thin smile that didn’t come close to his eyes. “I’m all right, really.”

Joe’s gaze darted down, and he took his father’s clenched hand and pried it open to reveal the bloody marks and the treasured hank. “Oh, and I suppose you always scream in your sleep with a lock of Adam’s hair held so tight in your hand that your fingernails cut into it and bring the blood. Pa, you’re not gonna convince us this time that there’s nothing wrong.”

“I’d rather not discuss it,” he said firmly and tugged away from them then started for the dresser.

“Why?” Joe asked vehemently as he and his brother followed after him. “Are you afraid to admit that you’re worried about Adam, afraid that if you do you won’t look so strong to other people?”

“Joseph, I told you that I don’t want to talk about it,” Ben said as he put the keepsake back into its envelope then returned it to the drawer and slammed it shut. He turned on them, and his expression left no room for guesswork.

“Pa, we ain’t gonna laugh at you, if’n that’s what you think.”

“No, Hoss, I know that my sons would never do that, but there’s nothing to talk about…. This is something I’m going to have to work out for myself.”

“But, Pa…”

“Joseph, enough. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, Pa,” Joe said lifelessly.

“All right then, you two go on back downstairs, and I’ll be right along, and we won’t talk anymore about it. Is that understood?”

“Yessir, Pa,” Hoss said dolefully.

“Joseph.”

“All right, Pa, but I think you’re wrong not to talk about this with us.”

“That may be but it’s my mistake to make. Now go on.”

They reluctantly agreed and left Ben alone again. For several seconds he just stood there not looking at anything really then his eyes went down as he opened his hand. He rubbed his thumb over the gouges in the palm as feeling began to gradually return.

Had he seen it? Had he seen his oldest son get killed as he feared he had or was it a dream and nothing more? If so, then why did this terrible sense of dread hang over him like a black cloud that wouldn’t lift and allow the sun through? And if it was a premonition, had he actually seen Adam’s death? He had seen the horse fall but he hadn’t seen Adam get up before the frenzied mass closed in around him.

A heavy breath rattled though him, and he ran his uninjured hand back through his silver hair. He prayed for this day to soon come to a blessed end, but would that bring the relief he sought?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hoss had thought to wait until after dinner to head out but after what happened with Pa he simply felt the need to get away from the house for a short time. He had hitched up the team and loaded the fence posts into the back of the big wagon as he had told Joe he would. During a storm several days back lightning had struck and damaged a large section of fence out on the East range, and he had promised to take these to the men working out there. Joe had stayed home with Pa and used the excuse in their father’s presence that he had some work that needed doing around the place.

The sun was moving closer to noon and it was warm on a man’s face. Unfortunately, its warmth didn’t reach into his heart to quell the chill that lived there. Pa’s behavior had brought to the fore the fear and dread that Hoss had fought all these months to keep at bay. It never completely went away – how could it – but he had been able to keep it from running him over.

As the wagon ground along, jolting across the bumpy ground, Hoss let his mind wander to distant and better times. His older brother had always seemed to have a knack for being there when his family needed him. He was like a protective shadow, and Hoss missed him.

With a snap of the reins and a firm voice, the team picked up some speed. One of the wheels ran through a dip, jostling Hoss on the seat as they continued on.

As he tried desperately to keep his mind from what he didn’t want to think about, something else came to him. Gathering both reins into his right hand, he delved deep into his shirt pocket until he found what he was looking for. As he pulled the glossy black coil out it unfurled and fluttered in the breeze. Yeah, it must have distressed ol’ Heck mightily to part with this. As Hoss watched it transfixed, a notion began forming in his brain. He hadn’t been entirely certain what he was going to do with it but now he knew and it made him smile. Carefully, he wound it up again and stuffed it back into its hiding place to keep it secure. He had a special purpose in mind for it, and he didn’t want to lose it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the moment that they would enter into the battle came closer at hand, Adam’s eagerness to join into the fight grew. But it wasn’t because he enjoyed it in any way or liked killing, the eagerness stemmed from the thought of standing with his compatriots. He and the others would hopefully prove their mettle to those they faced this day. He didn’t know if he would fall in the battle ahead of him, but if it was ordained that this should be his fate he only hoped that his father would understand and forgive him.

SEVEN

Colonel Sir Percy Wyndham was proud of his men. He had taken a ragtag, undisciplined outfit and whipped them into fighting trim and soon them and the men of 1st Pennsylvania and the 1st Maryland and the 6th New York Battery would meet the challenge before them. They would not fail him, he knew this in his heart and, in turn, he could not and would not fail them.

Just below Orange and Alexandria, the colonel’s brigade came to a halt. Taking out his field glasses and peering through them, the English soldier of fortune was met with a sight that chilled him through. A lone cannon was being moved into position on Fleetwood Heights, and he could only fear that there were other such artillery pieces close by. He knew this could be a trap to lure them in but what other options did he have? The job was at hand and they had to take care of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hop Sing hadn’t seen his family this torn since the first-born had left them. Since getting up that morning Mista Ben had been listless and brooding. Breakfast and the midmorning meal hadn’t quite appealed to him and the little man doubted that dinner would fare any better. Even Mistah Hoss, whom it was joy to cook for, since there were few things he wouldn’t eat, and he never failed to show his enthusiasm and appreciation, seemed to lack his usual robust appetite.

He stirred the bubbling pot of soup then bent down and checked the progress of the bread in the oven. The sounds of Mistah Ben shouting his eldest son’s name so piteously earlier and the sight of Mistah Joe and Mistah Hoss racing up the staircase lingered. No one had told him what was going on, and he wondered if the sons really knew themselves, but he had his own ideas about it. He knew of visions and dreams and omens and such – he had had some of his own in his time – so he suspected that was behind all this. And he had seen the bond between these four men, a bond that he knew in his heart even death could not break.

“Something sure smells good.”

Hop Sing turned around as the youngest Cartwright ambled in from the dining room.

“This potato soup. Lecipe come flom Godey Lady Book.”

Joe’s eyebrows rose, and he giggled. “You read that?”

“No,” Hop Sing snapped. “Missy Letta give to me when I in town. She say you like velly much.”

Joe grimaced and tousled his unruly dark brown hair.

“When you melly her?” Light sparkled in the mischievous obsidian eyes as he went to the breakfront at the back of the kitchen to get the bowls.

“Never.”

“Missy Letta think you melly her.”

“I don’t know why. I’ve never given her a reason to think that.”

“Woman not need be give leason to think to melly, do on own.” He thrust the stoneware bowls into Joe’s hands. “Here, you make useful and put on table.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you aleady here, and I tell you to. Now shoo.”

“Sheesh, you’re as bad as Adam.”

They went dead still and only looked at each other.

“I’ll… put… I’ll put these on the table.” Then Joe spun hastily and went back out.

Hop Sing heaved a heavy sigh. He had felt the presence of Ben Cartwright’s eldest son all morning and this only confirmed what he had already guessed at, that he wasn’t the only one.

“Mistah Adam, you come home,” he murmured as he went back to the stove. “It be black day if I have to give letter to family.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joe and Hoss sat at the dining room table trying to concentrate on the hot soup in front of them, but the absence of their father made that nearly impossible.

“That’s it,” Joe said as he jerked to his feet.

Hoss looked up as the spoon hovered half way to his mouth and watched as his little brother began filling the empty bowl.

“Joe, what you doin’?”

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?” Joe said snippily as he ladled up soup from the tureen between them. “I’m gonna take Pa his dinner.”

“Now, Joe, if’n he’d wanted it he woulda come down an’ got it.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? In the state he’s been in today I don’t think he knows what he wants.” He finished filling the bowl and grabbed a hunk of bread. “It won’t hurt anything for me to take him some. If he doesn’t want to eat it at least I’ll know I tried.”

Hoss’ eyes followed after him as he took the food and started upstairs with it.

Joe went directly to his father’s room and hesitated about knocking then he took the bull by the horns and rapped lightly. “Pa.” He didn’t get an answer so he pushed the door open and eased just beyond the threshold.

His father was sitting in the chair looking out the window, his hands tented in front of him. Joe got the impression that his mind was so far away that he didn’t even know he was no longer alone.

“Pa,” Joe said softly as he stepped in front of him. “I brought you a bowl of soup and a piece of Hop Sing’s fresh bread…. It’s still warm…. Pa.”

A deep intake of breath shuddered through Ben, and he rubbed the muscles at the back of his neck. With slow deliberation, he looked around at his son, and Joe couldn’t miss the depth of pain in the dark eyes.

“Thank you, son,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not really hungry.”

Joe crouched in front of him. “You haven’t been all morning, but not eating isn’t gonna help Adam any, now is it?”

Ben looked first as his son’s earnest face then at what he held then back into the warm emerald. “I guess you’re right”

Joe handed him the food then sat down in the floor with his legs crossed in front of him. As he sat there and watched his father take his first bite the door pushed in even farther and Hoss came in. In his hands he held a tray with two more steaming bowls, the bread and three glasses of milk.

“Come on in, son.”

“I brung you yours while it was still hot, Joe, an’ I thought some cold milk’d be good to wash it all down with.”

“That sounds like a fine idea. I’m afraid I haven’t been very good company today, and I think I need to make up for it.”

Hoss held the tray down and Joe got his then Hoss sat next to him.

“So now what should we talk about?” Hoss said as he dug in.

“I think you already know the answer to that,” Joe said, and his eyes glittered as he looked to his father.

Ben’s smile broadened as he tore off a piece of bread and sopped it in his soup. For the first time since the nightmare had awakened him things didn’t seem so oppressive and gloomy. What he had seen and heard remained in the back of his brain and always would, but he hoped it was nothing more than his mind working overtime. And even if it wasn’t, he still had two other sons who needed him to be strong.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

General Gregg, who had been meeting with Generals Pleasonton and Buford, had just rejoined Colonel Wyndham. Quickly he assessed the situation and determined that no significant force held the small knoll before him. As division leader he gave the command and, to the call of bugles, Colonel Sir Percy Windham and his 1st New Jersey charged forth across the railroad tracks and General Gregg joined them, caught up in the moment.

EIGHT

Wyndham’s men were turned before they were able to reach the summit and forced to flee for their very lives. But then the Confederates found themselves outmanned by the Pennsylvanians and Marylanders and things surged back in the other direction as they took the hill for the first time and drove through what was left of Stuart’s headquarters like a whirlwind. It was a general melee and a major mess, but the Federals were victorious, at least for now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The quiet time in Ben’s bedroom with his sons had been like a tonic. So immersed in their presence he had cleaned up his soup and two sizeable pieces of bread and drained his glass. There had been little words exchanged, only looks of love and understanding, and the sounds of food being devoured. What talk there was revolved around the missing Cartwright and never touched on the reason for his absence. It was a time he would always cherish brought on by one he would strive to forget.

After they finished he decided that the house was closing in on him, and he needed to get out into the fresh air. While Joe and Hoss went to help with the fence mending out on the East range, Ben rode off to see Angus MacCloud. He knew he was shirking his part of the work but he just couldn’t seem to get at anything, and when Joe had mentioned he go visit with his friend Hoss had been behind it one hundred percent. So here he was, on the back of his big buckskin, riding through as perfect a day as he had ever seen. And more was the pity since he couldn’t really enjoy it.

He looked to the sky imagining what it would be like if Elizabeth was there with him. How would she be with their son off fighting this dreadful war? Like him, he knew she would be proud, but also like him, he knew she would be frightened.

“If you can see him, Elizabeth, watch over him. Be there with him when I can’t.”

Lowering his eyes, he settled into the ride and tried keeping his thoughts from straying to this terrible thing that hung over him. He had seen his son’s horse fall, taking Adam with it and then a thousand milling men and animals had closed in around them, and he couldn’t see anymore.

“You’re not doing a very good job,” he grumbled. “Maybe when you get to Angus’ place.”

At his relaxed pace it took him a little longer to get to the MacCloud homestead. The house was weathered and looked as if it had seen many storms. It was barely adequate for Angus and his three daughters and had been a tight fit when his only son and wife were alive.

As Ben reined in near the ramshackle barn, he saw that Angus MacCloud was sitting on the porch sharpening an axe.

“Good day to ya, Ben,” the big Scotsman said in his heavy burr.

“Good day to you, Angus.” He got down and tethered Buck to the hitch rail by the watering trough. “It looks like you’ve been abandoned. Where’re the girls?” he said as he came across the yard.

“They’re inside cleanin’ up. They run me, their own father, out of me own house.”

“Our children do tend to get a little bossy sometimes when they get older,” Ben said and came onto the porch.

“Take yerself a seat.” Angus began working the tool’s blade over the whetstone again. “I could use the company.”

“I’ll just do that,” Ben said and pulled up a cane seated chair and sat down.

“So, what brings ya out this way on such a fine day as this? Ya’ve got no work to do?”

“My sons run me off and told me not to come back until I had a good visit with you.”

Angus chuckled and ruffled his thatch of disorderly chocolate-colored hair. “It looks like lassies aren’t the only ones who like tellin’ their father what to do. And with one the size of yer Hoss, one can’na say no very well.”

“That is so true.”

For nearly a minute they went silent with only the scraping of the axe’s blade over the stone between them. Then the shrewd sky blue eyes caught the sunlight as they darted in Ben’s direction.

“I dinna think polite talk is the only reason ya came over here.”

“To tell the truth, Angus, it isn’t. I guess I just needed to be with somebody who knows what I’m going through with Adam.”

“When have ya heard from the lad?”

“We got a letter the first of this month, but it was dated the seventeenth of the last one.”

“Aye, we went through the same thing with Callum. It would be like what felt like for ages then we would get one and sometimes two or three or even four, and once we got five.”

“That’s happened a few times with us too.”

“So, how is he likin’ Army life,” Angus asked as he leaned forward on his knees, forgetting about his chore. “I bet a one like your Adam has made a good impression. Me Callum was such a one.”

“Actually, he doesn’t say much about that, but he does talk about the battles he’s been in and the close calls he’s had and the comrades he’s lost, and frankly, Angus, it scares me to death. I know you and I have never talked about this much in the times I’ve been here since he left but today…” He took his hat off and ran his fingers back through his silver hair then his head raised as he felt a pressure on his wrist, and he found himself looking into those consoling blue eyes.

“But today yer feelin’ somethin’ naggin’ at yer heart and yer head. I know, ‘cause I’ve been the same.”

“How did you manage? And now that…?” Ben couldn’t make himself say it, and his voice trailed off.

“The loss of a child is somethin’ ya never git over.”

“I know. The parents are supposed to go first.”

“Aye…. When I heard I’d lost me Callum, I wasn’t very pleasant to be around for a time. I was mad at the world, but mostly I was mad at meself. We did’na part on the best o’ terms. I felt he was meddlin’ inta somethin’ that was none of our affair, and we had many harsh words about it to the day he left. I would’na even see ‘im off, somethin’ I’ll regret to me dyin’ day. But now, as I look back on it… I see that me son was right. Ben,” and his fingers squeezed on his friend’s arm, “ya did’na make the same mistake I did, and ya’ll always have that.”

“I know, Angus, but I came so close. If you hadn’t come by that day I think I would have.”

“Nah,” Angus said with a robust chuckle and slapped Ben’s knee then leaned back, “yer not a stubborn headstrong Scot.”

“No, I’m a stubborn, pigheaded Bostonian of English blood.”

“Ach and that can be as bad or worse.”

The two friends shared a moment of laughter and forgetting that brought Angus’ oldest daughter Laren outside.

“Good day’, Mr. Cartwright,” the wisp of a girl said in a lighter brogue than her father’s. “We wondered who Papa was visitin’ with.”

“Hello, Laren. You’re looking pretty as ever.”

The girl blushed and tugged at a strand of her mousey brown hair. “Ah, Mr. Cartwright, ya can turn a girl’s head with talk like that. Would ya like ta come inta the house for some coffee? The stove is already hot for bakin’ pies so it would’na take much to put it on while you and Papa visit some more.”

“Well, I…”

“I won’t hear’na more,” Angus said as he put the axe and stone aside. “I would’na be much of a host if I did’na invite a friend inta me house.”

“All right, Angus, I’d be very pleased to.”

“Then enough said,” Angus said as he came to his feet. “Put the pot on, lass.”

With a whirl, Laren darted back inside. Angus rested a hand on Ben’s back and they exchanged a look that only fathers could then a smile and went on into the house.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Now it was up to Kilpatrick or ‘Killcavalry’ as he was not so fondly known. He was approached by one of Gregg’s aides with an urgent plea to save an abandoned battery of cannon but the colonel would have nothing of it. He was going to charge up that hill where glory awaited him, and nothing was going to stand in his way. Then, holding his saber aloft, he gave the order for his leading regiment to advance forward, and with that Lieutenant Colonel William Irvine’s 10th New York proceeded, followed by the 2nd New York then the 1st Maine.

NINE

With the sun glinting on drawn sabers and battle flags floating their colors to the wind, the three regiments of Colonel Kilpatrick charged in a spectacle to live in the memories of those who would see it.

But not to be outdone, the Confederates, having taken back the hill, hurtled down to greet them in a fierce hand-to-hand contest that would leave Fleetwood in the control of the victor. Metal clanged against metal as sabers made contact with one another, and the shouts of men and neighs and snorts of frightened and breathless horses melded into a mélange of chaos.

The skittish mare beneath Adam wanted to rush headlong into the fray, but this was where all those years of handling Sport came into play. He checked her just in time to keep from bowling over an unwary gray trooper as the man hacked away at the opposing force.

As Adam raised his sword to slash at the enemy he felt his arm jerked back as he inadvertently deflected a blow he hadn’t seen coming. Tugging on the reins he brought the wiry bay mare around and saw the Rebel Captain who – bent on his destruction – had struck him. The officer swiped at him again and this time Adam parried, and as he did saw in the vivid purple eyes before him that this had become personal. Then determination met with determination as they threw themselves recklessly at each other while the mass churned and heaved around them. Their mounts rubbed flanks as the two men became locked together as each one tried unhorsing the other.

“Vile Yankee!” Adam heard the man growl through the din of battle. But there wasn’t time to wonder at what would make this man to hate him so other than the fact that he wore the uniform of the Republic.

Adam could almost feel the man’s breath on his face as they struggled to best each other. He knew that the slightest opening would have to be taken advantage of. At that second he broke free and brought his weapon around but found himself skillfully blocked and felt his foe’s keen blade slice into his cheek. The warm blood ran down the side of his face but he didn’t have time to feel the pain. This man was trying to take his life, and he wouldn’t give it up so easily.

It was time to fall back on what he had learned from his close association with the Piautes. Slipping his right foot from the stirrup and grabbing a handful of mane he slid forward along the animal’s withers throwing his opponent off guard. Bringing his sword up it ran between the man’s ribs and into his chest, its blade covered in blood as he withdrew it. The captain’s saber fell to the ground as his fingers lost their grip and death clouded his eyes. As Adam came back into the saddle and reseated his foot the man toppled forward to land under the crushing feet of his horse.

No sooner had Adam gotten himself out of that scrape when he was nearly bumped from the saddle. He twisted at the waist ready to do battle and found himself face-to-face with an equally surprised Kensey, his own saber raised over his head. But there wasn’t time for greeting as they merged back into the fight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Since retuning home from the MacCloud’s Ben had grown quiet and somber and returned to his dark mood. Joe and Hoss were still out on the range, but he wasn’t alone and the wary obsidian eyes kept steady watch over him.

Hop Sing didn’t like seeing Mistah Ben this way, and before he had left the first-born had told him to watch over his family. He had been entrusted with something very precious to Mistah Adam, and Hop Sing wouldn’t let him down.

From where he stood watching in the dining room he ducked back into the kitchen. He would brew a nice pot of tea and take to Mistah Ben along with some of the ginger snaps he had baked. Filling the kettle from the pump he put it on the stove to heat. He would make a special occasion of this and serve it up proper.

First, he got the tea pot from the breakfront and brought to the table at the center of the room then two cups and saucers. When one was in the doldrums it helped to share with someone. He paused and tried thinking of something that would bring this above the ordinary. Then the light of inspiration went on in his head, and he shuffled into his room. Stooping in front of the small chest just inside the door, he opened the bottom drawer. From it he took a flat rectangular object bound in tissue paper. As he unwrapped it, he exposed the red lacquered tray that had belonged to his mother, its top surface adorned with brightly plumed birds.

“This make it special,” he said as his fingers skimmed lovingly over its surface then he dashed back out with his prize.

Next he went into the pantry and got Mistah Ben’s favorite tea blend, one of several he kept on hand. As he came out steam boiled from the spout of the kettle. Retrieving it from the stove he took it back to the table and sat it on a trivet then went about his work.

A tingle ran along his spine as he measured out the tea. He liked doing special little things for his family. They appreciated them, and it gave him the greatest pleasure.

Ben sat in his favorite red leather chair staring into the lifeless grate. He had enjoyed a very nice visit with Angus and his three fine daughters but it had stirred up some unpleasant memories. How close he had come to sending his oldest off into uncertainty and peril with bitterness between them as his friend had done with his own son. And then there was the inescapable pall that hung over him from what he had seen in his sleep.

He wished Joe and Hoss would return. The warmth of the time they had shared at dinner still resonated within him and would for years to come and be something to fall back on when bad times came. Taking a burdensome breath he leaned forward against his legs, clasping his work-callused hands before him.

What is must be like for Angus MacCloud, knowing that he sent his only begotten son off to war only to die so far from home with harshness between them. True, loving letters had been exchanged and all forgiven, but to know and live with the knowledge that you hadn’t given in long enough to see him away had to eat like an acid.

“Mistah Ben…. Mistah Ben.”

Slowly, the familiar voice registered, and Ben looked around. His doleful eyes roamed over the small man standing before him. “Your mother’s tray,” he said as a poignant smile turned his lips.

“I think you need good hot tea, and I want this be special.”

“Thank you, Hop Sing.” His gaze strayed to the extra cup and saucer. “I would be delighted if you would join me.”

“Hop Sing be velly honored to share tea with Mistah Ben.” Then he put everything down on the low table and commenced to pour.

As Ben watched him it registered in his heavy mind what a blessing good friends were, and he counted among his that Hop Sing was one of them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A cannon shot burst nearby and Adam thought he would be blown off his horse by the concussion but he managed to stay seated. He looked around and saw that they were being charged by more Rebel cavalry. As serious as things already were they were about to get worse.

Colonel Kilpatrick gave the order for his New Yorkers to fall back to reform.

Adam turned his horse and joined his comrades in headlong flight in the opposite direction from the tumult. And he barely had time to notice that as they came down they passed the big men of the 1st Maine Cavalry going in.

TEN

As was inevitable the Third Division, along with the First, was thrown back at the enemy. It was left to them to succeed where the 1st Maine had failed. If they could take that hill and finally link up with Buford they would hold the field and win the day.

Adam had long since lost sight of Kensey and Midge, and he didn’t even know if they were still alive. The horse he rode was now even more agitated than before and controlling her ever more difficult, but he knew he had to. Shouting the command to his platoon he held his saber out before him and all burst forward and slammed into the bellowing gray horde that swept down to meet them and crashed into them like a wave.

As frantic as things had been before they now became two and threefold. Men were falling; horses were falling, cannons roared and sunlight flashed on cold steel. Death held high court this day, and it wasn’t finished yet.

The incessant echo of battle with all its wrath and furor swathed those caught up in it and raged through the trees. Blood colored the landscape and black tainted the blue of the sky as shells exploded and cannons disgorged themselves of their deadly burden.

Adam’s horse stumbled but he kept her head up, allowing her to regain her footing and they surged on. As they did a hapless trooper of the opposing force dashed across their path and they collided in a snarl of bone and muscle amid grunts and the jangle of their trappings. The animals were miraculously able to keep to their feet and mortal combat fell to their riders.

Everything was happening so fast as this boy of no more than nineteen swung at this Yankee’s head but the big man in blue met blow for blow. Their swords danced in a macabre ballet and clanged as so many others and became a part of the resounding clamor.

Adam was locked in a death struggle with this teenager that was bound and determined to bring him down, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Any thought that this was a man’s son was lost in the heat of the skirmish between them, and Adam fought as ferociously as a cornered tiger.

The young private broke free and gave another wild swing but as he did his adversary’s saber struck his arm and severed it just below the elbow. Blood spurted and covered both men and horses and the gray uniform was quickly discolored with crimson.

The young man fell forward against his horse’s neck but before Adam could gather what he had just done the human tide shifted and swelled around them, and the boy was swallowed up.

Madness continued to reign and time moved slowly as individual clashes combined to form one large all engulfing battle. The ranks in blue were making little or no headway as they were held in check by the fierce resolve of the southerners who met their onslaught with grit and courage, two commodities that neither side sorely lacked.

For the moment Adam found himself disencumbered, and he broke toward the crest of the hill. If he could make it, even if he died there, he at least would have attained their goal, and maybe it would incite others to follow.

However, he didn’t get very far before he was overtaken by a big Confederate with a flowing plume in his hat and a full beard as red as the setting sun. The man’s dark eyes welled with grim tenacity, and Adam knew he would never get away without fighting him first.

He wheeled the now nearly hysterical mare and stood his ground – her feet prancing in place – as the burly Rebel gave a maniacal yell and rushed at him.

Sparks almost seemed to fill the air as their swords struck with the sound of an anvil being hit with a sledge hammer.

Adam wheeled the bay again, and the Rebel yelled and this time they made a mad dash at each other. Once more his Piaute training came into play as he slid down the side of his horse to avoid the slashing saber and they passed harmlessly.

As he brought the mare about again he could see the fire blazing inside the man’s eyes, and he knew that this time one of them would most likely be killed.

Then, as Adam once again held his ground, the man leveled his sword at his enemy, and with a howl that could curdle blood, he put the spurs to his sturdy mount. The horse lunged forward just as Adam kneed the bay into action and they rode directly at each other like two irresistible forces.

They were less that a foot apart when Adam veered to the left, and as the two men passed he leaned down and gave a savage slice. But as he did the big man’s horse swerved in the opposite direction, and he missed cleanly.

The two were once again facing each other and the Rebel’s eyes burned with grimmer determination than before. But before they could do anything else, Adam found himself and his opponent in the middle of a blue and gray sea, and he had to hack his way out along with several others.

As they started back down with the Rebels snapping at their heels one of the riders came alongside Adam, and he saw almost instantly that it was Kensey. They kept riding hard and had almost reached the whirling, swirling mob near the base when an explosion rent the air, and before he knew what happening Adam’s horse heaved forward and they both hit the ground.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Now alone, Ben still sat in the chair by the hearth with his head resting in his hand, and his eyes closed, though he wasn’t asleep, when they suddenly flew open. His heart pounded madly, and his breathing came so fast it ached in his chest. His fingers dug into the red leather like the talons of an eagle, and a lump rose into his throat like the hardest of stone. The blackened coffee eyes widened close to bulging as tears burned across their surface.

“Adam,” he said softly then his hand capped over his mouth, and his eyelids fell as despair closed in around him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kensington Lane didn’t know why he twisted in the saddle but as he did the sight that met his eyes chilled his bones to the marrow. Adam had just come to his feet by his dead horse and – with sword in hand – turned to face the enemy bearing down on him. Jerking his mount’s head around and giving the animal his heels Kensey raced back to his friend.

Adam would die before he would he taken prisoner. He had heard stories about the hellholes that dotted the South where captured men languished in sorrow and suffering. Planting his feet firmly, he prepared to take at least one with him.

“Adam!”

Adam’s head yanked around as the big steel gray horse came up on his left. Kensey’s arm shot out and Adam took it and swung up behind him. With a swift kick, the steed spun about and sped down the hill carrying its double load, and with the yelling gray pack in hot pursuit.

As they plunged back into the tussle the order was given to fall back, and as Adam and Kensey continued their flight they were joined by others as the fight was broken off.

The remnants of Kilpatrick’s effort to take Fleetwood now headed toward Brandy Station and the railroad. Many, as with Adam and Kensey, were riding double and all were licking their wounds and wondering what was next.

ELEVEN

It was five o’clock that bright June afternoon when the battle for Brandy Station ended with the fallback of the Federal Forces leaving the much contested ground in the hands of the Confederates. And while much had been lost General Pleasonton was very pleased with the showing of his brigades against the peerless Confederate cavalry. They had been handed the task of meeting the horsemen of the Confederacy and they had shown their bravery and skill, and he, for one, was proud of them.

As the remains of the 10th New York and all the others headed home after again crossing the Rappahannock River, Adam was still riding double with Kensey. The ranks were not as orderly as they had been on the way and several of the men had found themselves in the same position.

As they rode on in exhausted silence Midge came up on their right leading a shiny chestnut.

“Say, aren’t you glad to see me?” he asked tartly as he seemed to go unnoticed.

“Not now, Midge,” Kensey said and took a deep breath. “We’re too tired for this.”

“Well, so am I and it hit me that we’ve been up since midnight, we rode out at three before the sun was even out in fog thick enough to cut with a knife, and we’ve been fighting since dawn without a bite to eat, and I’m hungry, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“Oh, no, Midge, you’d never do that,” Adam said as he looked at the little man through his dense black eyebrows.

“You know, he’s right.” Kensey’s face contorted and registered astonishment. “I’m hungry too, come to think of it.”

“I’m too beat to be hungry,” Adam said as he slumped and rubbed his back. “I just wantta drop like a sack of feed somewhere and worry about eating later.”

“Say, Adam, what happened to your face?” Midge asked.

A surprised light entered the dark hazel eyes as Adam touched his cheek and felt the crusty dried blood. “I took a saber slash.” He snorted and shook his head. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

Kensey swiveled and looked at his friend sitting behind him. “I hadn’t even noticed. You’ll have to get it taken care of.”

“I will when we finally get where we’re going.”

Kensey turned back around and this time caught sight of the striking horse his friend had in tow. “Say, Midge, what’ve you got there?”

“Well, it’s no Holstein, that’s for sure,” Midge said with a scowl.

For the first time, Adam became aware of the light brown horse, his flaxen mane and tail floating on the breeze. “He’s a handsome animal, but where’d you get him.”

“I found him in Brandy Station just wandering around before we rode out, and I knew you needed a horse so I brought him along. I figure whoever he belonged to probably got killed, and he just went down there with the rest of us.”

As they ambled on, Adam brought his leg over the rump of Kensey’s horse and slid to the ground. Midge stopped, and Adam went to his newly acquired mount. “Hello, boy,” he said and gave the animal a pat on the neck then slipped his foot into the stirrup and rose stiffly into the saddle. “Thanks, Midge.”

“Don’t mention it,” Midge said with a worn grin then rode on back to the rear.

Adam eased the chestnut on and came in alongside of Kensey. They looked at each other and only half smiled, glad just to be alive, and too dog-tired to do more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Joe and Hoss rode into the yard their father was sitting on the porch. They couldn’t miss the shadow that hung over his face and the distant look in his eyes.

“Did you have a nice visit with Mr. MacCloud?” Joe asked cheerfully as he and his brother got down.

But Ben didn’t seem to really hear him.

“Pa,” Joe said and still not getting an answer looked to Hoss, who only shrugged.

“Pa, you all right?” Hoss asked.

Ben just continued to sit looking out across the yard and far beyond to another place.

Blue eyes communicated with green and they turned and walked their horses into the barn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Camp life was quiet and reserved that evening. Adam and Kensey sat on a log and Midge on a small stool across from them. Each one had a plate of food with a cup of coffee nearby.

Adam, the blood washed from his cheek and the cut left to the open air, raised his fork and glared at the morsel resting on its tines. “I’ve heard people say that if you go too long without eating and get too hungry that you don’t really want it. Now I believe it.”

“I’ve also heard that you can get too tired to eat.”

“You can both speak for yourself,” Midge said as he took a good bite. “I could eat a house.” Then he washed it down with a slug from his cup.

“You would,” Kensey said and bit into his hardtack.

As they ate in silence one of the men came over and asked if they minded if he joined them.

“Nah, pull yourself up a rock,” Adam said tiredly.

The man thanked them and sat on the ground cross-legged and it was obvious that his appetite had taken the same hit as theirs. With a heavy breath he took a sip of his coffee. “Before I came over here I heard Reed and Grissom talking.” He snickered. “There’s talk that ol’ Jeb Stuart himself was out there today.”

Adam, Kensey and Midge froze and their eyes drilled in on him.

“Are they sure?” Midge asked.

“Not yet, but that’s the talk.”

For several seconds no one said anything.

“Well, that’s probably all it is, talk,” Kensey said as he hunched over his food. “Now let’s just eat so we can go to bed.”

“I second that,” Midge said and took a bite.

“I’ll go along with it too,” the man said.

Clandestinely, Adam’s eyes rose and met with Kensey’s. Neither said a word but they both knew who Adam had done battle with on Fleetwood Hill that day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joe and Hoss sat on either side of the supper table watching their father. Since their return home he hadn’t said a thing to them even though they tried more than once to start a conversation with him. His appetite had receded again since dinner, and he wouldn’t talk, and if he looked at them at all they doubted that he even saw them.

Hop Sing brought in some fresh bread and placed on the table, and Ben didn’t react at all. Three sets of concerned eyes connected then turned to him and still he didn’t seem aware. With a shake of his head, Hop Sing went back into the kitchen muttering in unintelligible Chinese.

“You know,” Joe started, “what with Adam gonna be away again for this Christmas I think we should send him something special. The photograph last year was a good idea but I can’t think of anything for this year. Maybe you could.”

But Ben just sat there mechanically feeding himself with the occasional sip of wine.

“I was thinkin’ that we could git together an’…” but a nudge and a headshake from his little brother kept Hoss from finishing his thought.

They settled back into their meal and left their father to think whatever it was he was thinking.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The men of the Army of the Potomac had really earned their rest this night. It had been a long, hard fought day and many of their comrades now slept the eternal sleep.

Adam peeled off his boots as he sat on the side of his cot and capped his hand over a languid yawn. Kensey, already asleep, was stretched full length, his socked feet hanging off the end of his bunk. His heavy breathing filled the confined space of the small tent and drove home to Adam the fact that he was still awake.

He took out the photograph of his family and held it close to the lantern that hung in the doorway. “Goodnight, Joe,” he said as he touched the face of his little brother then he moved his fingers to the full visage next to him. “Goodnight, Hoss.” Then they traced to the round Asian face. “Goodnight, Hop Sing.” But with a slight hesitation his fingertips ran over the image of the one who had reared him to be the man he was. “Goodnight, Pa. And don’t worry. I’m all right.” Then he tucked it safely back into his jacket from where if lay across the foot of his bed.

With a stretch of his arms he then put out the light and lay down. The soft orange glow was replaced by cool gray moonlight. He ruffled his hair then let his arms fall to his sides and in less than three seconds he too was asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ben blew out the lamp in his room and climbed into bed. As his head sank into the pillow he wondered if his oldest son was sleeping now. For the first time all day he felt truly at peace. He had awakened that morning from a nightmare that had haunted him and nagged at his thoughts every waking minute. But now he felt that everything was all right, that his son was all right, and he couldn’t explain how he knew.

Bringing the covers up around his chest, he looked over to the window that faced out into the deepening darkness. “Goodnight, Adam. Rest well, son, and come home safe. We’ll be here waiting for you.”

Then he turned onto his side away from the window. Burrowing into the soft mattress, he snuggled beneath the warmth of the bedding and felt his eyelids begin to grow leaden. One day, hopefully before too awful long, this horrible war and the appalling loss of life it had brought with it would be over and Adam would come home to them and they would be a family again. He couldn’t let himself think of any other eventuality.

Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and went to sleep thinking of his first-born son. Tonight maybe his dreams would be softer of better things. Goodness knew he sure could use it.

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Many of the people in this are factual figures from history. Hooker, McClellan, Stuart, Kilpatrick, Buford, Gregg, Wickham, Wyndham, Pleasonton, and Irvine actually served. Also, the incident with the Confederated aide mistaking the Federal cavalry as his own and being captured is said to have actually happened.

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