Harmony: Winter into Spring

It was early as Bridget made her way to work at Adam Cartwright's house. It was quite dark and the cold air was heavy and starting to mist. Golden halos surrounded the gas street lamps. But even at this January predawn hour, the streets of New York were bustling. She passed by the Jefferson Market where deliveries were finishing and the household staffs were arriving to shop for groceries for the weekend. She said a quick hello at the poultry stand and ordered some stewing hens. Likewise she placed orders with the green grocer and dairy. The sweet aroma from the German bakery drew her in and she made a quick purchase before continuing to the house on 12th Street.

"Maybe Mrs. Sharkey is right, it does feel like a storm is gathering," she thought. Her landlady had insisted that Bridget take a valise with extra clothes in case she needed to stay with Adam's family until the storm passed. "I feel it in my bones, Bridget. My hip is acting up somethin' terrible this morning. We're in for a big storm."

Bridget unlocked the back door and stepped into the toasty kitchen. Hoss had risen early to greet her. He was putting more wood in the stove and smiled. "Take off those wet clothes and warm yourself. I've made some coffee. Want some?"

Bridget put the valise down near the door. She unwound her long scarf, unbuttoned her coat, and hung them on the peg. She greeted Hoss with a broad grin. "I'd love some coffee. I stopped and got the papers and some cinnamon buns." His eyes sparkled as she placed them on the table. The headlines warned of a storm coming in off the ocean.

"How'd you know I was thinkin' 'bout cinnamon buns this mornin'?" He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned in to kiss her good morning.

"Now, Hoss Cartwright, don't you think about cinnamon buns every morning?"

He smiled broadly and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I do."

They sat happily in each other's company for a few minutes. In the short several weeks since Hoss had surprised his brother's family for Christmas, he and Bridget, Adam's young housekeeper, had grown quite fond of each other. They were kindred spirits. Conversation came easily but they were equally comfortable to sit quietly before the bustle of the day's activities began. She warmed her hands around the steaming coffee cup. "I think we're in for a nor'easter today."

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's a storm coming off the ocean. We do get the deepest snows when they come that way." She took a sip of coffee and continued. "Mrs. Sharkey said her arthritis was acting up all night. It's always bad when there's a storm. She made me bring a valise in case I need to stay here this evening.”

Hoss winked at her. "Then I guess I'll pray for snow."

Adam stood in the doorway. "What's this about snow?"

Bridget and Hoss blushed. Hoss quickly picked up the Times and pointed to the headline. "Bridget was jest sayin' we're due for a nor'easter."

The early morning quiet was shattered as Amy clomped noisily down the stairs. "Papa! I can't find my yellow ribbon for my hair! Mama won’t help me. She says she's busy with Jacob. You gotta help me!"

Adam turned to catch her before she entered the kitchen. "Wait a moment, Miss Bossy. I might be more agreeable about helping you if you use the magic word."

She frowned and rolled her eyes.

"Temper, Amy," Adam cautioned her gently. "It's on the tip of your tongue."

She took a deep breath and in a softer tone she asked, "Please, Papa?"

"I knew you would remember your manners. All right then," he winked and took her hand. "Let's go upstairs."

"Did you check the tray on top of your dresser?" Bridget asked. "I put it there after I ironed it yesterday."

"I didn't look there. I'll go check." Amy turned and ran up the stairs to her room.

"What do ya think that was about?"

"A little sibling rivalry, Hoss." Adam picked up the coffee pot and poured himself a much appreciated cup of the steaming liquid. "Jacob needs a lot of attention these days and Amy’s nose is out of joint. I seem to recall that you weren't always so fond of Joe when you were her age."

Hoss chuckled softly. "Yeah, I might have tipped his cradle once or twice."

"I'll have to spend some extra time with her," Adam said shaking his head.

"Won't be hard. With the way the sky is lookin' we'll be stayin’ put for a while."

Sara entered with a wriggling, impatient Jacob in her arms. "Morning. It seems both of our children woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." She plopped down on the empty chair next to Hoss. "Is there enough coffee for me? I surely need it this morning."

Hoss poured her a cup and took charge of his fussy nephew. "Dang storm movin’ in is makin' these children moody."

Bridget smiled as she watched Hoss feed the baby some cinnamon bun. Jacob's eyes widened and he grabbed his uncle's hand for more. "You have a way with him, Hoss." She stood and put on her apron. "Now, scrambled eggs or pancakes?"

"I think eggs, please, Bridget. And thanks for the buns," Sara answered between nibbles.

The wind howled and blew from all directions. The rain quickly turned to sleet and sounded like a million pins tapping the glass as it hit the windows.

"We should go out there and clear the ice when it turns to snow, Hoss. Otherwise we'll be ice skating our way down the stoop when it stops."

"Yeah, yer right. And we should shovel Mrs. Lacey's stoop as well. Can’t have her falling. She's liable to break her hip if we don't."

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As the storm moved in the winds picked up and the sleet turned to snow. Adam retrieved shovels, oilcloth panchos, and a bag of rock salt from the cellar and placed them by the door. Then he and Hoss bundled up in warm layers and headed out to clear the ice-plated stoop and sidewalk.

“It’s snowing to beat the band, ain’t it? It’s gonna cover up all our work real fast.”

“It’s best to rid ourselves of the slush before it freezes. It’ll make it easier when we shovel the snow later.”

Hoss nodded in agreement and started to clear the stairs.

A few minutes later the Marshall’s front door opened and James stepped out to get Adam’s attention. He shouted above the wind, “Hallo, Adam!”

Adam stood and waved to his neighbor across the street.

“The girls want Amy to come over. They’re planning some sort of dolls’ tea party. They said something about Molly?”

Adam grinned and shouted back, “I’ll bring her over after I clear the way.” He noted that James was still wearing a sling after a fall on New Year’s Day. “How’s your arm?”

“Aches in this cold weather.”

“We’ll clean your path as well.” He waved and went back to shoveling.

The brothers made short work of clearing the icy slush from both Adam’s house and that of his elderly next door neighbor, Mrs. Lacey. Anne McKenna, her grandniece, opened the door to thank them. “Oh, you are heaven sent, Mr. Cartwright. My aunt would be trapped in here without your help. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Miss McKenna. We’ll be over to clean the path when the storm is over. Now get back in the house before you freeze.”

Adam slapped Hoss on the back and suggested that they go inside and warm up before clearing the way to the Marshall’s home. Amy stepped from the parlor at the sound of the door opening and laughed at them. “Uncle Hoss, you look like a giant snowman! You, too, Papa.”

Sara entered the hallway holding Jacob. “Get out of those wet clothes and have something warm to drink.”

Adam shook his head. “Go ahead, Hoss, I’ll finish. Amy, the Marshall girls want you to come over to play. You’re to bring Molly.”

Sara and Adam Exchanged relieved smiles. Playing with the girls would sweeten Amy’s mood. The girls were a little older than Amy and loved to dote on her. Clearing the Marshall’s stoop was a small price to pay for his daughter’s happiness.

“Go get your doll and bundle up real warm. I’ll carry you over.”

Amy ran up the stairs and was down in a flash. As Sara dressed her in her heavy woolen coat and scarves she instructed her daughter, “Now you make sure that you thank Mr. and Mrs. Marshall and that you behave yourself.”

“I will.”

“And don’t be bossy.”

“I won’t.”

“And have a good time,” Sara said before she kissed Amy’s cheek.

With Amy wrapped around him and a shovel in his hand, Adam made his way across the street. Amy rang the bell and Hanna opened the door reaching out to pull Amy inside. “Thanks, Mr. Cartwright!”

“I’ll be back to pick you up at four o’clock, Amy.”

“Thank you, Papa!”

Adam quickly finished the stoop and found a bag of salt at the doorway. He salted the stairs and made his way home.

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After lunch, Hoss and Adam sat in the parlor near the fireplace. The wind wailed outside and the snow swirled from every direction.

“Hey Adam, you see this?” Hoss asked as he read the paper.

“What’s that, Hoss?” Sara asked as she and Bridget entered the room.

“It says that Mark Twain is here in New York and plans to give lectures. You remember him, don’t ya Adam? He caused all that trouble in the Territorial Enterprise with the story about the petrified man. Only he called himself Josh then.”

Adam frowned.

“You know Mark Twain, dear?”

“I had some encounters with Sam Clemens who called himself Josh Billings then.”

“Yep, Sara. He done tangled with big brother here. Hey, Adam, maybe that’s why he changed his name again. So’s he could hide from ya.” Hoss winked at Sara and guffawed. “Mark Twain. Funny kinda name.”

“It’s his nom de plume,” Sara said.

“What?”

“His pen name, Hoss.”

“I know that name,” Bridget said.

“Have you read his stories, Bridget?”

“No, but I’ve seen it somewhere. I can’t remember right now.”

“Do ya think we’ll run into him, Adam?”

Adam shook his head. “New York is considerably larger than Virginia City, Hoss.”
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All afternoon the storm raged fiercely. The wind howled and the snow pelted against the windows. It accumulated at a rate of an inch an hour. At four Adam made his way across the street to fetch Amy. James opened the door and he stepped into the welcoming household.

"Thank you, James. How was she?"

"An angel," he answered. Adam raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Well, none of them is an angel but they played well and had a great time."

"I can tell you, we appreciated the peace and quiet this afternoon. Jacob is invading her territory as he grows and she is not happy about that."

"That's natural, Adam. She'll be fiercely loyal to him as well. Take it from me. Hanna was just the same when Emma was born."

Adam nodded. "Well, it's time to head back."

The girls came downstairs, dolls in hand. They made a dramatic show of hugging and leave-taking. Jane Marshall helped Amy with her coat and scarves and Adam gathered her in his arms.

"Let's go, sweetie."

"Thank you, Mrs. Marshall. Thank you, Mr. Marshall. I had a wonderful time."

"When the storm ends, you girls should come over to build a snowman." Adam looked outside and added, "maybe a whole snow family."

"We'll be sure to send them over," James added enthusiastically.

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There must have been some magic in the tea that the girls served their dolls that afternoon. Amy came home acting as sweet as pie. She happily practiced her scales on the piano. She set the table without complaint. She even played pat-a-cake with her little brother.

After dinner Hoss challenged Amy to a checkers game. She set up the board on the low table by the settee and they began. She was concentrating on her next move when Jacob crawled over to the edge of the table and pulled himself up. Before any of the adults could catch him he stepped away from the table and walked toward Amy. Unsure of his footing he over-balanced and knocked the checkerboard from the table.

But before Amy could react, Hoss was shouting. "Did ya see that? He's walking!"

Sara crouched down and steadied Jacob. He faced Amy and took a step toward her. Jacob laughed. He swayed and reeled like a drunken sailor and made his way toward his sister. "Catch him, Amy!"

She held her arms out and caught him in a hug.

"That's right, sweetie. Now point him towards Papa."

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Sara was the last to ready for bed that night. She kissed her children good night and made her way downstairs to see that Bridget was settled comfortably in the parlor. “I’m sorry we don’t have an extra bed for you.”

“That’s fine, Mrs. Sara. I’ve slept plenty rougher than this. I’ll be fine. The fire is cozy.”

Sara took a long soothing bath. She wrapped herself in her woolen robe and padded her way to her bedroom. The sound of Hoss snoring came from down the hallway. She would miss him when he had to leave. The whole family loved his company.

The gaslight was turned down low and the bedroom was dim when she entered. The wind was howling and it continued to beat the snow against the window. In a curious way the storm made the room cozier. Adam lay on his back, his eyes closed and his right arm cradling his head. Sara placed her robe at the foot of the bed and climbed in. She leaned over to kiss his lips and whispered, “Good night, sweetheart.” She turned to settle for sleep.

Adam rolled on his side and reached his arm around her, pulling her closer. His shoulder was sore and he winced before he asked, “Where do you think you’re goin’, darlin’?”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Not quite.”

“Your back bothering you?”

“There’s a twinge between my shoulders.”

“Roll over, I’ll massage it for you.”

He obeyed and groaned with the effort. She straddled his hips and leaned forward to start rubbing and kneading the nape of his neck. With a firm but gentle circular motion, she worked her way down to his shoulders and then between them, warming his sore muscles and coaxing the ache from them. They chatted casually about the day, the snow and Jacob's first steps."

"Did you see how he wanted to run?" Sara asked.

"Once he starts, I'm afraid he'll never stop. That boy is a perpetual motion machine."

"Poor Amy. He follows her like a little duckling. He adores her."

"Maybe we should consider giving her a room of her own. We could renovate the attic and make a room for a housekeeper and one for her."

"Oh Adam, I don't think I want her on another floor yet."

"We could move her into your sewing room and make a space for you upstairs. It's sunny up there and you could have some privacy when you need it."

"That's a good idea." She smiled at the thought. "We really are going to lose Bridget to Hoss, aren't we?"

"Oh yeah. Just watch them a minute and you see that they are falling in love. It seems the most natural conclusion."

"You Cartwrights are a puzzle. Lifelong bachelors and then you fall in love so fast and deeply."

"Speaking for myself, dear, it just takes the right woman."

"The Ponderosa is never going to be the same."

"I hope so, Sara. A woman's touch will be good for everyone there. And children, I hope there are lots of children." He sighed as she continued to massage his back. “Sara, you have a magic touch. Did I ever tell you that?

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Every time I give you a back rub, sweetie.”

His low soft laughter reverberated. “Well, it’s true, every time.”

She shivered slightly in the chilly room. “It’s cold in here.”

“I can fix that.” He turned over on his back and bent his knees. Then he guided her to straddle him and lean back. He lifted the nightgown over her head and began to caress her.

“I said that I was cold.” She teased.

“I have my ways to warm you,” he assured her. With that he reached for her, resting her torso on his, and held her tightly in his arms. His body warmed hers. Her head rested on his chest and she listened to the strong steady heartbeat.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The storm ended in the early hour past midnight. The wind died down and all was still. The normally bustling city was silent and blanketed in two feet of snow. In the morning Adam stood at the frosted window and blew on it until he created a peephole. He gazed out at the scene. The day had dawned clear with azure blue skies and the snow sparkled in the bright sun.

Sara stirred and woke surprised by the brightness of the dawn. She stretched and asked, "What time is it, dear?"

"It's just after eight."

"Oh my gosh! How could we sleep so late?"

"Don't worry. Bridget and Hoss must have taken care of the children." He walked to the bed and tossed his robe aside. He climbed in beside Sara and kissed her warmly. "Morning, sweetheart."

She returned the kiss and said softly, "We should get up."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. "There's no hurry. What's another half hour when we've slept this late?"

She smiled mischievously. "Is the key in the door? We don't want any visitors."

Adam nodded and rose to lock the door. He turned and winked at her. She leaned back on the pillows and watched him saunter back to the bed.  She thought, “Two years.  We’ve been married two years last week and he still takes my breath away.”  She smiled back.

"We'll pay for this later today, you know."

"Maybe." He climbed back into the bed and pulled her toward him. "Let's just enjoy this rare morning."
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An hour later they made their way down the back stairs leading directly into the kitchen. They could hear Jacob beating a spoon on the high chair tray and babbling an emphatic "speech". Hoss was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. Bridget was serving pancakes to a young boy, wrapped tightly in a blanket. Adam looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

"Mornin', sleepy heads. This here is Tony Lucca. He knocked on the door early this mornin' lookin' to shovel yer snow for a nickel."

"I see," Adam said. He looked at the flushed and dirty face of boy who looked about eight years old, just a little older than Amy. The streets of New York were filled with such children, abandoned or orphaned, making their way on their own or in small groups, looking for work to survive.

"Well, he's a great little worker. We shoveled your stoop. Ya owe him a dime, Adam."

"That's double what he asked." Adam winked at his brother.

"He done a great job. I promised a bonus. And we done Mrs. Lacey's house and she gave him a dime."

"Well, that seems to be the going rate then."

"And the Marshall's house. They gave him a quarter."

"James is generous this morning."

"Yes, sir!" the boy piped up between bites. "But Mr. Hoss, here, promised me breakfast."

"More than that. His clothes was all wet and I thought maybe there's somethin' in that box ya have for the children's society, Sara."

She nodded. "After breakfast I'll look." She looked at the boy's thin shoulders peeking out from the blanket. "I think I can find some clothes that will fit Tony. And maybe he'd like a nice warm bath as well."

Hoss winked at the boy who beamed back. "See I told ya, son."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bridget drew a bath and Hoss led the boy up the backstairs. “Let’s do somethin’ ‘bout them taters growin’ in yer ears!”

Amy laughed at her uncle’s playful teasing. Adam pulled her toward him and hugged her. “Now sweetie, Tony is a guest in our house today. I want you to be very nice to him. He’s not as lucky as you are and maybe won’t be used to our ways.”

“I promise. Can I ask him to play checkers?”

“I think that would be good, Amy. Why don’t you go set up the board?”

Adam looked at Sara and shook his head. “Hoss has always had a big heart for the downtrodden, whether a puppy with a sore paw or a drunk with a sob story.”

“Tony is neither of those, Mr. Adam. His ma died just before Christmas and he hasn’t anyone else in the world,” Bridget explained. “He’s been with a rough group of boys ever since, scrounging for whatever he can.”

“We’ll do our best for him.” Sara said. “Adam, will you bring up the box from the cellar? Let’s see what I have that might fit him.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A short while later Hoss knocked softly on the door to Adam’s study. “Adam, I got a real tired boy here. I was wonderin’ if he could sleep on the settee in here.”

Hoss settled Tony and pulled a blanket over his shoulders. In minutes the boy was fast asleep. “I guess with the snow shovelin’ and big breakfast and hot bath, he’s jest plumb worn out. He might sleep most of the day away.”

“He probably needs it. He's safe and warm here." Adam said. "What’s your plan, Hoss?”

“I’ve been to that Children’s Aid place with Sara. I was thinkin’ maybe Tony could be a newsboy and stay there and get some schoolin’, too. He ain’t lazy, he works hard.” Hoss turned to face the boy and then back to address his brother. “No little kid should be on the street and alone, Adam. That Society place is close so I can see if he’s okay while I’m here.”

“That’s a good plan, Hoss.” Adam put his arm around his brother’s generous shoulders. The hardships each had known at Tony’s age went unspoken between them.

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The tantalizing aroma of apple pie baking finally roused Tony hours later.  Adam was working on a lecture and looked up to see the boy waking.  Groggy, he sat up clearly confused by his surroundings. 

“Tony, are you all right?” 

The boy stared bewilderedly at the tall stranger walking toward him and in a low tentative voice asked, “Mister Cartwright?”

Adam put his hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “That’s right, son.  You’ve had a long rest and missed lunch.  Are you hungry?”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and nodded.

“Well, let’s go fix that,” Adam said smiling.  He led the boy to the kitchen where Bridget and Hoss were finishing the lunch dishes. 

“Well, lookee here, our little Rip Van Winkle woke up,” Hoss announced as he winked at the boy. 

“My name’s Tony.”

Bridget smiled and put her arm around the boy’s thin shoulders.  “Of course, it is, Tony.”  She guided him to the table.  “I saved some lunch for you.”

“It’s real good, Tony. She had ta rassle me ta save ya some,” Hoss said.

Tony’s eyes widened as he looked at the pair. 

“He’s just teasing,” Bridget said as she placed a steaming bowl of stew at his place.

“Bet you’ve rassled people fer dinner, though, right?”

Tony nodded as he brought the spoon to his mouth.  Often as not he had one meal a day, and rarely a hot one.  He savored the rich broth. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” Bridget assured the boy.  She brought a basket of biscuits from the counter and joined the boy at the table.  Hoss sat opposite them.  

“Tony, son, I’m real glad ya knocked on our door this mornin’.  Yer a real good worker.”

The boy smiled between bites. 

“I’m worried ‘bout ya though.   Where do ya live?” 

“Don’t live nowhere, Mister Hoss.” 

“Okay, then.  Where’d ya sleep last night in that nasty storm?” 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

“C’mon son, ya won’t get in trouble.”

“Slept in the stable over ‘cross the way.”

“Ya was real lucky, Tony.  Ya coulda froze out there,” Hoss said shaking his head.

“Ya gonna throw me out?”

“Naw, Can’t do that to a good kid like ya.”  Hoss smiled to reassure the boy.

“Tony,” Bridget put her hand on his.  “Mrs. Sara knows a place where you could be safe and warm every night and have regular meals. It’s not far from here. Down on lower Broadway.”

“Do I hafta go now?  It’ll get dark soon.”

“No, no!  Yer gonna stay here tonight.  And we’ll talk ta Sara ‘bout the Children’s Aid Society later.”

Amy wandered in to the kitchen.  “Uncle Hoss?  Can you play checkers with me?”

“That’s a great idea, Button.  How ‘bout we teach Tony here how ta play?”

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At dinner that night, everyone gathered together.  An extra place had been set for Tony.  Amy led grace and then asked, “Papa, can we make a snowman tomorrow?”

“Maybe, if the weather’s a little warmer.  It was just too cold today for little girls,” Adam replied.

“And boys,” Hoss added as he looked at Tony.  “It feels good to be warm and inside, don’t it Tony?”  The boy nodded in agreement.

“Too cold for the likes of me,” Bridget added.  “’Though tomorrow I think I can make it home.”

“Maybe I’ll see ya home in one of them fancy sleighs with the bells jingling.  They sure looked pretty all day.”

“Oh Hoss, that would be splendid!”

“Can I come?”  Amy pleaded. 

“Not this time, sweetie,” Sara answered, reasoning that Hoss and Bridget would enjoy the privacy.  “Bridget, why don’t you take the afternoon off tomorrow?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Sara.”

“We owe you that much at least for staying during the storm.   Why not take next weekend?”

“Oh, I could visit my aunt in Brooklyn on Saturday afternoon.  She’d love that.”

“Did ya see in the newspaper that the river iced over in the storm?  People was walking over to Brooklyn.”

“Maybe we should go see that, Amy,” Adam suggested. 

“Can we ride a sleigh to the river?”

Adam smiled at Sara.  Once their daughter latched on to a notion she didn’t let go easily.  “I think we’ll just take the horse-car downtown, that’s an adventure in itself.”

“Can we have chestnuts?”

“We’ll see, Miss Greedy,” he said with a smile.  

Tony sat quietly observing the family and listening to their affectionate banter. 

“Tony?  Son?”

He was startled.

“Yer a miles away,” Hoss gently teased.  “Do ya want some mashed potatoes?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The children were all bedded down and asleep when the adults engaged in deep conversation in hushed tones in the parlor. 

“Hoss, you’ve got a heart as big as the prairie sky, but he’s a little boy not a puppy.  You can’t just hug him and make it all better over night.”

“Heck, Adam, I know that,” Hoss objected.

“He may have relatives out there that he’s not telling us about.”

“I doubt that, Adam.  He was out in that storm all by hisself.”

“He might be afraid of something worse than being alone,” Sara said as she placed her hand over her husband’s.  “He may have run away from his family.”  She sighed and continued.  “Maybe he doesn’t want to know his father is cruel.  Maybe they sent him out to work.”

“So ya still think I should take him to the Society?”

“I do, Hoss.  Doctor Brace will give him a safe place to stay.  He’ll find out Tony’s story,” she promised her gentle brother-in-law, “and if he thinks it is best, he’ll find a family for the boy.”

“They do that?  They find families for kids like Tony?”

She nodded.  “Sometimes here, mostly out in Ohio and Michigan.  There are families in small towns and on farms that adopt boys from the Society.”

“Bridget, ya think it’s a good idea?”

“I do, Hoss, for now.”  She reassured him.  “You can take him tomorrow and we can visit him on Sunday to make sure he is settled.”

“Maybe we can take him to the circus, I bet he’d like that.”

“I’m sure that he would, as long as we get him back for services that night.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the dim light from the street lamp, Hoss stood in Adam’s study watching Tony sleeping.  The boy’s face was relaxed and his breathing was calm and deep.  “Poor little guy,” Hoss muttered softly.  “Who knows what ya’ve been up against and what’s ahead of ya now.  But I guarantee ya, yer not gonna on the streets again, I’ll make sure ya have a home.”

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The next morning after a warm breakfast, Sara, Hoss and Tony rode the omnibus to the Newsboys’ Lodging.  There they met with the matron, Mrs. Cookson, a plain faced woman with a kind smile.  The place was clean and orderly but deceptively quiet.  The matron explained, “They’re all out at this time of day, but mark my word, it’ll be full tonight.”

She showed them the dormitory floor with rows of iron bunk beds.  The walls were white washed and the beds neatly made.  The bathroom was also clean.  The meal room doubled as a classroom after dinner.  A blackboard was hung on the wall and the Bible verse “Thy children like olive plants round about thy table” was written in a neat hand.

“Now, young man, have you sold newspapers before?”

“I helped,” Tony answered in a soft voice.

“Well, I’ll see if one of the older boys will get you started.”  She looked at Hoss and added, “The older ones often help.  It’s a brotherhood here.  They have no one else, so they look after one another.”

“Do you have money, son?”

“Yes’m.”  He fingered the money he’d made shoveling the walks the day before.

“Mrs. Cartwright, would you take Tony downstairs to the dressing room?  Mrs. Ivey is there this morning.  She can help you find some more clothes and some boots for Tony.”

Sara took his hand and led the way downstairs.   Hoss watched them leave and turned toward the matron.

“I can buy him some clothes.”

“Of course you can, Mr. Cartwright.  But we encourage the boys to be self-sufficient and save their money.  It’ll cost Tony six cents a night and three cents for breakfast and dinner.”

“Can I front him some money?  I wanna make sure he’s okay.”

She smiled and nodded.  She accepted a five dollar coin from Hoss. 

“That’ll keep him for a month or more.”

“No more than that though, Mr. Cartwright.  We’ll see that he saves what he earns.  We’ll keep it for him in our bank.”

“My sister-in-law told me that you might find a home for Tony.”

“We’ll see how it goes, Mr. Cartwright.  But often we do find homes for the boys.”

“Can I come see him on Sunday?”

“That would be fine.  Come in the late morning.  The boys can enjoy a bit of a lie in on Sunday mornings before services.”

Hoss looked puzzled.

“Unless there is an “extra”, there are no newspapers on Sundays,” she explained.  “Mr. Cartwright, the boy will be fine.  We’ll take good care of him here.”

“I know, Mrs. Cookson, jest he’s so little and so alone.”

“We have younger boys than Tony and by tonight he won’t be alone at all.  I’ll spend the day with him today.  Not to worry about Tony, Mr. Cartwright.”

They made their way downstairs and they heard Sara and Tony laughing in the dressing room.   Tony was showing off his new boots and a new hat.  “How do I look, Mr. Hoss?”

“Like a right fine businessman, son.”

The boy beamed. 

“Tony, I gotta go now.  Mrs. Cookson’ll take care of ya.  Bridget and I’ll be back on Sunday to see ya.  We gotta a surprise for ya.”

Tony nodded and shook hands with Hoss, who pulled him into a bear hug.  “You be good, ya hear?”

On the omnibus ride home Sara and Hoss rode silently, each lost in thought.  They alighted at 12th street and fell into conversation as they made their way home.

“He’s a tough little guy, ain’t he?”

“He has a lot of grit,” she agreed. “When I think that he is so near in age to Amy, my heart breaks.  ‘There but for fortune’.”

“He’s a bit like Adam when he was little.   We had Pa ta love us but Adam took care of us, too.  Not much time for games when he was growin’ up.”  He squeezed Sara’s arm.  “He made up for it later.  And he sure found happiness with you.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hoss left with Bridget shortly after he and Sara returned.  They quickly made their way to her rooming house and dropped off her valise.   Then they rode the horse-car to Central Park, where Hoss hired a sleigh with jingling bells for an hour’s tour of the icy wonderland.  They bundled up under the thick woolen wraps and held hands, warm in each other’s company. 

“I’ve never seen so much snow.  It’s beautiful.”

“Oh darlin’ we get plenty more snow than this at the Ponderosa.”

“Do you have a sleigh?”

“Sure.”

“With bells?”

“No, no bells on it.” He shook his head.  Her face fell a little.  “But I can get some here, I s’pose, if ya like ‘em.”

The driver jingled the bells and Bridget’s bright laugh answered them.  Hoss smiled broadly, his eyes glistening.  There was no more beautiful sound than her laughter he thought.  No more beautiful girl for him.  He squeezed her hand, and resolved that he would buy the bells and have her love by the end of his visit.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The temperature was still cold but it crept above twenty degrees and the snow was shining.   Adam assented to inviting the Marshall girls after lunch for a session of snowman building.  It would be good to work off the pent up energy everyone had from staying indoors for two days.  He cleared the back stairs and created a path to the small yard.  Then he fetched the girls while Sara bundled up Amy in her coat and scarves and mittens.

Hours later the girls teeth were chattering as they put a corncob pipe in the snowman’s mouth and rakishly placed an old straw hat on his head. 

“There, Mr. Cartwright,” Hanna said as she stood back to admire their work.  “We’re done!  What do you think?”

“I think, Hanna, that you girls made the best snowman I’ve ever seen.”

“Me, too,” she agreed.  “Now let’s have cocoa!”

“Me, too,” Emma and Amy piped in.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night only Adam’s little family sat at the table.   Hoss was still out, no doubt having dinner with Bridget.  Tony was having his first meal at the Newsboys’ Lodging House.

“Mama, do you think Tony is lonely tonight?”

“Oh sweetie, I think Tony is fine.  There is a nice big dining room and lots of boys will be there to keep him company.”

“But he doesn’t know them.”

“Amy, you made friends with him very quickly,” Adam said.  “I bet he’ll have some friends by the end of the night.”

“Will he go to school?”

“There is a classroom there.”

“Do they have checkers?”

“I saw some boards there, yes.”

“That’s good.  He can play checkers with some boys.”

Sara looked at Adam and he winked.  She thought a moment about the comparison between Adam and Tony that Hoss had made earlier.   His sometimes stoic exterior hid the sorrows he’d had as a child.  She smiled back, grateful for Hoss’s other observation, that her husband had found his peace and happiness in his family.

True to her word, Mrs. Cookson kept Tony by her side most of the day.  When the boys started to return to their lodgings late in the afternoon she introduced him to Nico Grasso.  Nico was an older boy of fourteen with deep brown eyes and a crooked smile.  He wore his cap pulled low on his forehead and favored a bright plaid vest with his brown trousers. 

“Sure thing, Mrs. C., I’ll take care of the kid. C’mon over here wid me.  What’s yer name?”

“Tony Lucca.”

“Italian, huh?  Jest like me.  Come sta?

Tony beamed to hear his mother’s language.  “Sto bene.”

Nico put his arm around the smaller boy.  “We can talk Italian ‘tween us, but we’re in New Yawk.  We gotta talk American here.  Capisce?”

Tony nodded. 

“Okay Tony, I’ll show ya da ropes.  We start t’morrow mornin’.  Early.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Well before dawn the next morning, Nico and Tony headed out to the New York Sun offices across from City Hall.  Nico wrapped an extra scarf around the little boy’s neck.  “Can’t have ya get sick yer first day, can I?  Ya got yer money, right?”

Tony nodded and fingered the two dimes in his pocket. 

“Okay, then keep up with me.  Yer gonna be my lucky charm today.”

At the Sun he handed over his money and got ten papers in return.  “Ya sell ‘em at three cents apiece,” Nico reminded him.   Tony grabbed his papers and eagerly followed the older boy into the street. 

Nico quickly glanced at the headlines and shouted out, “Coldest day yet! Jack Frost bridges the River!  Ice jams East River!” to the early risers going to their jobs in the hotels and the Stock Exchange.   “Shiver for ‘em, Tony.  We’ll sell more papers,” Nico said under his breath.

They weren’t out more than fifteen minutes before they’d sold their stack of papers.  They returned to the newspaper office and Tony bought another five papers.  Nico bought a dozen. 

“Let’s head downtown.”

They made their way down to the Stock Exchange as the carriages with wealthy bankers and businessmen started to arrive.

Nico changed his cries.  “Rail stocks tank!  Down 5 cents a share!”  He leaned down to Tony.   “Gotta know da news, kid.   Help ya sell papers.”

They sold their papers and stopped for hot coffee and doughnuts before heading back to the Sun by now the second edition was out and Nico was eager to head uptown to the posh newer hotels. 

“We’ll ride the horse-car.  Follow me.”  Nico grabbed the back rail of the horse-car and jumped up.  He leaned down to pull Tony into the car.   Nico raced through the car selling papers and avoiding the conductor.  They jumped off as the car slowed at Prince Street.  They crossed Broadway to stand in the arches of the Metropolitan Hotel.

“The rich swells stay here, Tony.” 

By noon Tony had amassed enough money for his nightly lodging. 

“Like I said to Mrs. C. this mornin’ yer a good luck charm, Tony.  We’ll head back and git the afternoon papers.  But first we gotta get ya warm.  Don’t wanna lose my new pardner on ‘is first day.”

When the boys returned to the lodging house early that evening, Tony had earned thirty cents.   Mrs. Cookson told him that Hoss had paid his room and board.  “What’ll do with my money?”

“You’ll need it tomorrow to buy the newspapers, son.”

He put it back in his pocket.  “Is it safe here?”

Nico put his arm around the boy.  “I’ll put it in my locker.  It’s safe,” he assured Tony.  “Now let’s eat.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Finally on Wednesday the record cold spell ended. The temperature rose to 35 degrees and the snow-covered city stirred in fine fashion again. Railway tracks were cleared and the trains brought stores of fuel and food stuffs. Hundreds of day laborers cleared the streets and sidewalks, carting the snow to the rivers to dump. The streets were crammed with people pushing and scrambling excitedly and returning to their daily routine. The schools opened and mothers sighed in relief that their bored children were not underfoot.

Adam walked Amy to school and took the Sixth Avenue horse-car uptown to Columbia for his morning lecture. Even his students and colleagues were jittery after their forced confinement. They greeted each other with great cheer and slaps on the back as if they’d been separated for months and not days. They made plans to meet at the public houses and share their stories.

Adam begged off the invitations having promised to meet Hoss down by City Hall that afternoon. They were eager to see the ice dams in the East River. The river had frozen for the first time in most peoples’ memories. All ferry traffic had been blocked for days. Reports of brave-hearted boys skating across to Brooklyn were front page news. He walked the three miles downtown, grateful to stretch his legs and breathe the cool fresh air.

He met Hoss in front of the Sun newspaper offices just north of City Hall. They crossed the street and walked through the park to Park Row. The Herald, Times and Express had their offices there.

“Do ya think we’ll see him?” Hoss asked eying the newsboys hovering in the doorways of the newspaper offices.

“Maybe.”

“Hope he’s okay.”

“Me, too, Hoss,” Adam said quietly.

They crossed Park Row and headed toward Peck’s Slip. There they stood at the river’s edge taking in the chaos of the harbor. Ice floes crashed with loud groans as they drifted toward the bay. Crowds swarmed the ferry docks. To Hoss they looked like a herd stampeding. Brooklynites stranded in Manhattan for three days were eager to get home and vice versa.

“There’s a plan for a bridge across here,” Adam said. “A man named Roebling wants to build it. There’s a private corporation forming.”

“Across this river? It’s too far. Looks like a quarter mile shore to shore and real deep. How’s he gonna do that?”

“He wants to build a "suspension bridge" with towers and cables. The Dean pulled me aside this morning and gave me the report to study. They’re gonna have to dig down to the bedrock. They want some mining engineers to look at the plans.”

“Whew! That’ll be somethin’.”

“You hungry Hoss?”

“Now, Adam, when ain’t I hungry?”

“Let’s get some fresh oysters and fried clams.”

“Now yer talkin’.”

They ate standing at a bar and drank cold beer. Chaos was all around them and they reveled in it.

“’Sides from yer place, this feels closest ta home.”

Adam laughed and slapped his brother on the back. “C’mon, brother, let’s head home. We’ve got women waiting for us.”

“Yer right, Adam," Hoss answered beaming. "I gotta woman waitin’ for me. That sounds real good.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bridget took advantage of a rare free Saturday to visit her aunt in Brooklyn and to introduce her to Hoss.   They took the ferry from Peck’s Slip and walked along Front Street to her aunt’s rooming house in Vinegar Hill.  Brick row houses lined the streets.  With a bright breeze blowing, Hoss smelled the aroma cinnamon and other spices from the warehouses along the river. 

The streets were jammed on a fine sunny Saturday afternoon.   The factories and workshops closed early and with their pockets filled with their weekly pay, workers crammed the streets shopping for groceries and taking the time to talk to friends.  He heard more brogues in the voices than the accents he heard across the way in Manhattan

“Some call it ‘Irishtown,’ Hoss.” They stopped at a bakery to buy a cake for dessert.  “She loves her sweets, maybe too much.”

“There ain’t never too many sweets, Bridget.”

“You two will get on well, I can tell.”

She was right.  Hoss and Bridget’s Aunt Mariah warmed to each other quickly.  Her face reddened when she laughed and she laughed often during lunch.  Hoss entertained her with stories about the Ponderosa.  She liked his big smile and broad shoulders and his bright eyes.  He was a kind man who would love her niece with all of his big heart.

After lunch they sat in the parlor, Hoss and Bridget on the settee, Aunt Mariah in her chair near the fire. 

“Oh Bridget, dear, get me that paper on my desk will ya?   I have a business question to ask Mr. Cartwright.”

“Ma’am?”

Bridget handed the newspaper to her aunt who opened it and folded the second page back to reveal an advertisement.   “Here, Mr. Cartwright.   What do you think of this?”

Hoss took the paper and read an advertisement for Silvercrest Mining Stocks in Virginia City.  In the margin was a testimonial from none other than Mark Twain, calling Virginia City the “Richest place on Earth” and boasted that the country was fabulously rich in gold and silver. 

“You think it’s a good investment, Mr. Cartwright?”

“Well, ma’am, I don’t rightly know.  I don’t know who’s behind this mine but I know who would.  My brother has mining maps for the whole area ‘round Virginia City.  If ya don’t mind, I’ll take this and show it to him.”

“That would be grand, if you would,” Aunt Mariah said.  “Now Bridget would you make a fresh pot of tea.  Mr. Cartwright and I need to do a little discussing alone.”

Bridget squeezed his hand before she rose and left the room.

“Ma’am?”

“Don’t act too shy, son.  I can see you want to marry my niece.”

Hoss blushed deep red. 

“Don’t worry, you have my blessing.  Just give it a little more time and promise me she’ll stay ‘til your brother goes West this summer.”

“Yes’m.   That’s a promise.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bridget fell asleep on the ferry back to Manhattan.  She slept with her head against Hoss’ broad chest, his arm wrapped around her.  He thought about her aunt’s request to wait until summer to marry Bridget.  He understood the wisdom of waiting but as he breathed in the scent of lavender that lingered in her hair he longed to marry her before he left New York.

“Wake up, darlin’.”

“What?,” she answered startled as the ferry lurched into the slip. 

“The ferry just pulled in, that’s all.”  He squeezed her a moment and helped her up.  “Maybe you should stay home tomorrow.   I can take Tony to the circus by myself.”

She yawned and nodded.  “It’s been a very long week.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hoss made his way down to the Newsboys’ Lodgings late Sunday morning.  Tony ran to him and he scooped up the boy in a bear hug.  

“Ya look happy, Tony.   Ready for lunch and the circus?”

“Mr. Hoss, can we go to the museum?”

“A museum?  Ya wanna see art?”

Tony giggled.   “Nope, Barnum’s Museum.   Nico says they got lions and tigers and apes.”

“Who’s Nico?”

“My best pal, that’s who.”  He pointed to the older boy lingering in the doorway.

“In that case, does Nico wanna go too?”

“Sure, mister!” he answered.  “And I know a great place for lunch.  Ya hungry?”

“I’m always ready fer a good meal, son. Get yer coats, boys.”

They rode the Sixth Avenue horse-car up to Greenwich Village and hopped off at Bleecker Street.   Nick led them across the Avenue to Nonna Mia on Carmine Street.   “Ya ever have spaghetti, mister?”  He opened the door and the fragrant aroma of rich tomato sauce came wafting out.

“Ciao, Nico!,”  an elderly woman greeted him with a hug and a kiss.  “Chi sono queste persone?”

“Nuovi amici, Nonna.    Ecco Tony e Mister Hoss.”

“Buon giorno, amici.”

Nico headed to the table in the window and sat down.  “Get comfort’ble gents,” he said. “Sophia, we want the works.”

A large platter of spaghetti and meat sauce was quickly served, followed by veal chops and vegetables and plenty of crusty bread.   Hoss’ appetite was famous in Virginia City but the two boys seemed to have hollow legs.  They kept up with Hoss and more. 

Hoss wiped his mouth with the red and white checked napkin.  “That was mighty good, Nico.”

“Ya skippin’ dessert, mister?”

“There’s more?” Hoss asked as he patted his full belly.

“Sure, there’s gelato, that’s ice cream.”

Hoss smiled and shook his head.  “Ya win, Nico.  I can’t eat another bite.  I’ll have me some coffee while yer eatin’ yer dessert.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They made their way across Bleecker Street headed to Broadway and the Barnum Museum at the corner of Spring Street.  Hoss smiled when he saw the garish posters and colorful banners waving in the wind.  The museum was across from the Metropolitan Hotel.  No doubt the posters had caught Tony’s eye while he sold newspapers to the hotel guests.  The poster showed big cats that were leaping and baring their saber-sharp teeth.  The lions looked equally menacing. 

Hoss dug in his pocket and pulled out a dollar.  “Now yer money ain’t good here, boys.  This is on me.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent in macabre and wonderful world of P. T. Barnum. The museum was crammed with people.  Children pulled at their parents’ arms leading them to the live whale swimming in his tank and the gorilla pounding his chest.  They sat for a show of Apache Indians.

“Ya seen Indians before Mr. Hoss?”

“Sure, Tony,” Hoss assured him.  “Lotsa of ‘em.”

“Really?”

“Really.  My ma was killed by Indians on the way west.”

“Ya ain’t got a ma either?”

“No, son.”

“Jest like us,” Tony said. 

They stopped in front of the mermaid case.  There they saw a curious creature with the head of a small monkey and below the waist it resembled a fish. 

“That don’t look right,” Nico observed.  “It don’t look real.”

They laughed and moved on.  They stayed until the museum closed and exited with the crowd spilling out on Broadway.  They crossed the street and stood at the corner in the soft gaslight from the Metropolitan Hotel.

“Ready ta go home?” 

“We can make our way home, Mr. Hoss,” Nico said.  “It sure was swell today.”

A man leaving the hotel stopped in his tracks and when he heard Tony add, “Real swell, Mr. Hoss!” 

“Hoss?,” the man thought.  “Did I hear that right?”  He turned to see Hoss giving a hug to the the little newsboy.   

Hoss turned to face a familiar face. “Josh, er, I mean, uh, Sam Clemens. No, it's Mark Twain. Is that you? I told Adam I’d find ya here in New York.”

“Hoss Cartwright, you’re about the last person I expected to see here in this forsaken town. What in tarnation are you doing here?” Sam roared.

“Well, Sam…Mark, shoot what do I call ya?”

“Sam,” he answered. “My friends call me Sam.” He slapped his big friend on the back. "And I count you as a friend."

“I’m here seein' Adam.”

“Your brother is here?,” Sam asked. That wasn’t entirely good news to him. When last they saw each other Adam and Sam had parted in what could only be called an uneasy truce.

“Sure, he’s a perfessor at that mining school at Columbia.”

“That’s news to me.”

“Yeah, well he’s all settled down now. Not so quick to get mad. Got a wife and kids.”

“No fooling? That’s good to hear. You in a hurry to go somewhere?”

Hoss shook his head.

“C’mon with me then. I’m headed to Pfaff’s. You’re gonna like this place.” Sam turned north and headed up Broadway to Bleecker Street to a set of stairs leading down to a beer cellar. “Hoss, you’re just the man I need to prove my point.”

“That so, Sam?”

“Yep. Hoss, you’re about to breathe the rarified air of Gotham's literati circle,” Sam said as he opened the door. Hoss looked puzzled. Sam laughed and explained, “the coterie of writers and critics. A more disreputable group of lying humbugs you'll ever find outside the Bucket of Blood.”

Hoss took a deep breath and said, “Jest smells like a saloon ta me.”

Sam guffawed. “These critics say I exaggerate too much when I write about the men in the west. You’re gonna prove them wrong.”

For the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening, Sam and Hoss entertained the crowd at Pfaff’s Beer Cellar. They drank, told stories, fumed and rollicked with the regulars. Hoss was there to verify the antics and wild tales of his friend, that the petrified man was alleged to have been found on the Ponderosa, that bull frogs out west jumped higher and farther than any in the east, and that the Virginia City streets were lined with silver. Well, it wasn’t all exactly true, but near enough.

Hours later Hoss was startled to see the clock above the bar reading eight o’clock. “I gotta head home now, Sam. Say, why don’t ya join me?”

“Hoss, I’m not sure your brother would be so pleased if you barged in with me.”

“Yeah, that’s prob’ly true. We’ll give ‘im a day or two. Come ta dinner on Wednesday. How ‘bout it?”

“You’ll protect me if he comes bearing down on me?”

“Yeah, Sam. He won’t hurt ya none.” Hoss guffawed. “Yer forgiven. He’s on 12th Street. 117 East 12th Street. Come at 7 o’clock.”

“You better give him my card, Hoss, in case he’s not happy with the invite. I’m at the Metropolitan Hotel. You can send word there.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara opened the door to her tipsy brother-in-law.

“I guess I fergot my key,” Hoss sheepishly apologized.

She smiled and took his arm. “At least you’re home safe.”

“Ya eat yet?”

She nodded. “We fed the children and put them to bed, but we saved for you.”

“Ya didn’t hafta do that.”

Adam poked his head out of his office. His brother’s red nose and awkward gait amused him. “I see you’ve had an adventure today.”

“Oh Adam, yer never gonna guess who I saw,” Hoss said. “Never, so I’m jest gonna say. I saw Sam Clemens. Right here in New York City. In front of the Metropolitan Hotel. And he took me ta a saloon. Pfaff’s.,” he stumbled over the pronunciation. “That’s a funny name, ain’t it?”

“An awfully big adventure,” Adam said as he took his brother’s other arm. He and Sara led Hoss toward the kitchen. “Is there black coffee on the stove, dear?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Early the next morning Hoss sat drinking hot black coffee in the dimly lit kitchen. He'd tossed and turned all night. His eyes were red and his head was spinning as he thought back on the previous day's activities. Maybe it was the red wine he'd had at Nonna's. Or maybe that he later drank a mix of beers and whiskeys at Pfaff's. He sat as still as he could and nursed his coffee.

Adam quietly entered and poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked over to his dejected brother and smiled wryly. "Hair of the day, Hoss?," he asked as he picked up an opened bottle of wine.

"Dammit, Adam, that ain't funny."

"I suppose it doesn't feel funny, Hoss." Bemused by his brother's condition, he sat down across from Hoss. "I have to ask…."

"Yeah?"

"Did you really invite Sam Clemens for dinner here?"

Hoss winced and answered reluctantly. "I think I did. Yeah, I did. He gave me his card. He pulled the card from his shirt pocket." He looked at the card and handed it to his brother. "Wrote somethin' on the back."

Adam read the note: "Mea culpa, friend." He smirked and shook his head. "Well, you both better be on your best behavior. Got it, brother of mine?"

After dinner Bridget and Hoss were alone in the kitchen washing the dishes. It was the uninterrupted time of day they both enjoyed most, not for the task, but for the company.

"Hoss, are you feeling well?"

"I'm fine," he answered. In fact he'd been nauseous from his hangover most of the day.

"It's just that you didn't eat much all day. Dry toast for breakfast, just soup for lunch and tonight you only had one helping and didn’t finish that. It's not like you."

"I was just a bit off my feed today. I'm fine." He patted his ample stomach. “It won’t hurt me none.”

"Hoss Cartwright," she said suddenly. She turned and put her arms around his generous middle. "You're not on a diet, are you?," she teased.

"No, darlin’," he said laughing.

She grinned and turned to continue washing. "It's just that your shirts are getting a little snug over that belly."

"Ya think?"

"I do."

"That'll change when I get back to the Ponderosa. I'll be workin' hard and I'll lose this gut."

She gave him a skeptical sideways glance.

"Maybe I could do more movin’ around while I'm here. I guess I'll jest hafta pick ya up in the morning as well as walk ya home at night."

"I'd like that."

As he escorted her home that evening he held her close. They walked in companionable silence, happy to be together. As they walked near Washington Square the moon shone brightly just above the rooftops. The stars were beginning to come out.

"Are the stars and the moon as pretty on the Ponderosa?"

"Now, I'm prejudiced mind ya, but I'd say they're prettier out there. The sky is bigger and there are more stars."

"Do you wish on the stars, Hoss?'

"Nah, not lately, when I was a boy I did."

"What did you wish for?"

"I think I wished for you," he leaned in and kissed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he got back to Adam's house, the children were in bed. Adam was finishing his lecture notes. Hoss found Sara in the parlor knitting a pair of socks. He sat beside her on the settee.

"Pretty night out there?"

"Yeah, the fresh air did me good. My head's not achin' anymore." Sara touched her hand to his knee and smiled. "Sara, I need yer advice 'bout proposin' to Bridget. I want to say the right thing but I'm not good at words like Adam."

"What do you want to say to her?"

"I wanna say that I love her and want her by my side forever."

"That's all you need to say, Hoss."

"But when Adam asked you to marry him, I bet, he was real romantic like."

"Not really," she assured him. "In fact he proposed in his Cousin Jack's kitchen while we did the dishes."

"In the kitchen. Not in some special place?"

"In the kitchen, with a towel wrapped around his waist," she smiled at the memory of it. "Not very gallant but it didn't matter. I just wanted to marry him so badly. I was thrilled that he asked me."

"In the kitchen . . . . thanks, Sara." He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Those socks ain't for Amy, they're too big. And they're too small for Adam."

"I figured Tony might need some good thick socks."

"He sure does, Sara. Good night."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara sat at her vanity rubbing scented cream on her hands when Adam entered. He took off his robe and tossed it on the foot of the bed. He stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He bent down and kissed her behind her ear. "Don't be too long, Sara." She leaned back against his bare chest and sighed. Then she reached up to unpin her hair. He took her hands in his and said, "I'll do that." He pulled out the pins and her hair cascaded to her waist. Gently, he finger combed it. She smiled at his familiar affectionate touch. Sara took his hand and kissed it.

"Adam, to bed, my love."

After their lovemaking, Adam held her and they talked.

"Hoss asked me how you proposed to me. I think he's going to ask Bridget this week."

"Oh yeah. He asked me to go with him to Tiffany's after class tomorrow."

"You don't think she'll leave with him next month do you?"

"He told me that he promised her aunt that she would travel to the Ponderosa with us."

"That's good. She needs so many things, a bridal gown, a trousseau, linens . . . ."

He kissed her and turned to lie on his side. "Yes, dear." She rolled over and nestled close to him, her bare back against his torso. He pulled her close and draped a leg over her.

"Good night, sweetheart."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Hoss was waiting at the bottom of Bridget’s rooming house stoop at 6:30 the next morning.  She exited hesitantly and called out his name, “Hoss?  Is that you?”

“Sure is.  Mornin’ darlin’.”

“You scared me.  I guess I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Now Bridget, I said I’d be pickin’ ya up and walkin’ ya home, didn’t I? Besides, I have somethin’ to talk to ya about.”  He took her arm and they headed west toward Sixth Avenue and the Jefferson Market about a mile away.  She shivered and he pulled her closer to his side.  “Colder than a witch’s heart this mornin’.”

They walked quickly and the snow crunched beneath their feet.  When they got to Washington Square, Bridget started to cross diagonally to shorten the walk.  Hoss tugged at her and stopped her.

“Hold on a minute, Bridget.  I got somethin’ important to say.”

She looked into his blue eyes.  They were misty, though she knew not if it was the cold or emotions at play.   He put his arms around her waist and then quickly looked to see if anyone was watching. 

“Bridget, it’s time I got around to ask ya to marry me.  I can’t think about going home without knowing ya’ll be my wife and be by my side.  I love ya, Bridget.  I ain’t never loved any woman like I love ya.”  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “There, I said it.”

It was her turn to cry.   She smiled through tears of joy and nodded.  “Yes, Hoss Cartwright.  I will be your wife.  I love you, my gentle giant.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her.  A group of boys started cat calling and they broke from their embrace. 

“I guess we should move along ‘fore we freeze ta death out here.”

The butcher looked at the tall burly stranger with a jaundiced eye.  “Who’s that with ya, Bridget?,” he asked as he weighed the lamb chops she’d chosen for dinner. 

“My fiancé, Mister Lawson.  This is Hoss Cartwright.”

“Cartwright?   You, Adam Cartwright’s brother?”

“I am.”

“Mister, you hit the jackpot gettin’ Bridget’s hand.  Why if I weren’t married with five children, I’d be mighty jealous.”  The teenage boy behind the counter rolled his eyes at his father’s statement.

“I need to order a pork roast for tomorrow.   They’ll be five of us.”

Mr. Lawson was holding his hands out indicating the size of roast to cut. “Is he one of ‘em?” 

“Yes.”

He widened the distance between his hands.  “You’ll need a bigger roast then.   You want it delivered tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, please.”

“Bridget?,” he called out as she and Hoss left the stand, “Congratulations, dear.”

The friendly exchange was repeated throughout the market.  Everyone congratulated the happy couple as they stopped at the various stands. 

At the German bakery, Anka Strauss, nodded her approval and came around the counter to kiss Bridget. “Ya take good care of her, mister!  She’s a doll and we love her so.”  She eyed Hoss up and down and added, “He’s a good strong man, Bridget.  You’ll have good babies.”

Both Bridget and Hoss blushed and hurried on home to tell Adam’s family the good news.

 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara took a fussy Jacob down to the kitchen to make some cereal.  For the first time in weeks the room was dark as she entered.  Dark and cold.  She’d gotten used to Hoss’ early hours and his morning routine.  She’d had the luxury of not lighting the stove and of finding a hot pot of coffee ready for several weeks. 

Amy wandered in behind her, shivering.  “Why’s it so dark and so cold? And where’s Uncle Hoss?”

Adam followed. He lit the gas lamp and the stove and warmed his hands near the fire.  He pulled a chair from the table and set it near the stove and sat.  “Sit here with me, Amykins, until the room heats up.” He scooped her up and placed her in his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Your Uncle Hoss has other things on his mind this morning.”  Adam winked at Sara.

“Like what?”

“You’ll see, honey.  I’m guessing that he has a surprise for us.”

“Cinnamon buns?”

Sara laughed.  “Maybe, sweetie.  Adam, will you take Jacob?  I’ll start the coffee.”

Amy slipped off her father’s lap as Adam reached for the squirming baby.  He wrestled with Jacob a bit and asked Amy to get a teething biscuit for her brother.   She stood on her toes to reach the tin, opened it and handed a biscuit to Jacob.  Suddenly, the kitchen door blew open and a cold breeze swept in.  Bridget and Hoss burst in, all smiles. 

“Mornin’ everybody!  It sure is cold out there today.”

They placed their market packages on the counter and began the process of removing the many layers of scarves and woolens they’d worn to keep warm.

“Did you bring me a surprise?” Amy asked.

“A surprise, Button?”

“Papa said you have a surprise for us this morning.  Did you bring cinnamon buns?”

Hoss beamed at his family and took Bridget’s hand in his.  “Your papa is right.  I,  er, we have a surprise this mornin’.  I asked Bridget ta marry me today.”

She squeezed his hand.  “And I said I would.”

“We’re gettin’ married.”

“Now?,” Amy asked.

“No, Button.  I want Grandpa and Joe to meet Bridget first.  We’ll get married in June at the Ponderosa.”

“But are you going west with Hoss when he leaves?,” Amy asked Bridget.

 “Not yet, my girl.  I’ll go with you after school lets out.”

“Whew!,” Amy sighed dramatically.  “Can I be your flower girl?” 

“I was just thinking you’d be a perfect flower girl, Amy,” Bridget answered, hugging her. 

“Finally!” Hannah Marshall was a flower girl for her aunt’s wedding the previous summer and Amy was mad with jealousy.  Now it was her turn.  The little girl grinned ear to ear. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That afternoon, Hoss softly knocked on Adam’s opened office door.  His brother was seated at his desk and a young man sat in a chair facing him.  Adam looked up smiling and beckoned his brother.  “C’mon in, Hoss.  I’d like to introduce you to Peter Mills.  He’s coming with us to Virginia City this summer.”

The young man stood and was taken aback to see his professor’s large and more homespun brother.  He offered his hand and Hoss shook it vigorously.

“Good ta meet ya, Peter.  Ya’ll hafta come out ta the ranch when yer in town,” Hoss said.  With a mischievous grin he added, “We’ll hafta toughen ya up a bit and put some meat on yer bones.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just Hoss, son.  Just call me, Hoss.”

Peter excused himself and Hoss settled in the chair.

“I brung ya somethin’ Bridget’s aunt asked me about.”  He pulled out the newspaper ad for the sale of stock in the Silvercrest Mines in Virginia City.  “Ya know anythin’ ‘bout this?”

Adam examined the ad, noting the requisite hyperbole of the testimonials in the margins, and shook his head.  “It’s new to me.  Philip just sent additions for the mining atlas.  I’ll check into it tomorrow.  There should be a listing on the San Francisco Exchange as well.”  He looked up at Hoss and grinned wryly.  “Of course, we could just ask the famous Mark Twain at dinner tomorrow.”

Hoss rolled his eyes.  His dinner invitation to Sam had been spontaneous.  Now he worried that he would spend the evening acting as a referee. 

Adam stood and walked toward the coat rack.  “Let’s go find a ring for Bridget.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The clock in the Metropolitan Hotel lobby struck the quarter hour as Sam Clemens prepared to exit and walk to the address Hoss had given him.  “Once more into the breach,” he thought as he wrapped the scarf around his neck and buttoned his coat.  Adam Cartwright could be a formidable man, in words and in deeds, he remembered as he rubbed his jaw.  Still Hoss had assured him that Adam had mellowed in the intervening years.

He stepped out on to Broadway and started walking north.  The streets were a ceaseless buzz of activity.  The constant jostling and the shouts from the crowds made him restless.  He had known the city for a short time as a printing apprentice while in his teens but New York had doubled in size since then.  He hurried his pace to meet the crowd’s momentum. 

 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Sara adjusted Adam’s tie and stepped back to examine him.  “There,” she said.  “You look very professorial and distinguished.  Adam, dear, be on your good behavior tonight.”

“What do you mean?  Has Hoss talked to you?”

“He has.  He’s worried that the evening may end in fisticuffs.”

Adam roared with laughter.  “Now I am sure, dear, that he did not say ‘fisticuffs’.”  She glared at him and he continued.  “I promise you I will be a gentleman this evening.  And if we come to blows, we’ll use the Marquis of Queensbury rules.”  He winked at her.

“Men!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam stood across the street from Adam’s house, screwing up his courage to knock on the door. The curtains of the front parlor were open allowing a warm light out to spill out toward the street. He looked into the front parlor. The fire was lit. The room was stylish but comfortable looking. Hoss was sitting on the settee with an auburn haired little girl by his side, reading a book to her. A pretty woman, obviously the girl’s mother whom she favored, entered and straightened the drinks tray on the sideboard. Adam walked in carrying several bottles of wine. He looked relaxed as he decanted the wine. In fact he was smiling. Perhaps Hoss was right, maybe he had nothing to fear from the eldest Cartwright. He took one last puff on his cigar, dropped it in the street and extinguished it under his heel. He straightened his shoulders and crossed the street.

It was Adam who answered the door and greeted the author. He took his coat and showed him into the parlor.

“May I introduce my wife, Sara, and my daughter, Amy? Sara, Amy, this is Sam Clemens also known as Josh, Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass and,” Adam paused for dramatic effect, snapping his fingers, “Oh yes, Mark Twain.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Sam said as he bowed slightly. “And you, as well, my child.”

“Why do you have so many names?” Amy asked.

“It protects me from angry readers,” he answered. He noted Adam’s amused expression and added, “Readers who sometimes have strong reactions to my stories.”

“Yes, well, I believe we settled that score long ago, Sam.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Clemens, I promised Amy that she could meet you but I’ll take her upstairs now.”

“Good night, Mr. Clemens,” Amy said as she curtsied.

“Sit down, Sam. I’ll pour you a peace offering. Whiskey or wine?”

Sam looked to Hoss who winked at him. “Sure, Adam, that would be nice. Whiskey.”

“Let me offer a toast,” Adam said as he handed Sam and Hoss their glasses. He took his drink in hand and said, “To friendship, may differences of opinion cement it.” The three men stood and clicked their glasses.

“That’s mighty generous of ya, Adam,” Hoss said.

“A lot of water has passed under the bridge since I left Virginia City,” Adam said.

“For both of us, Adam,” Sam said and held out his hand to shake Adam’s. The two men looked each other in the eye and shook hands in friendship.

“Whew! That’s a worry off my mind,” Hoss sighed.

Bridget entered carrying a tray of small dishes of radishes, olives, pickles and anchovies. Hoss took the tray from her and set it on the side table. He put his arm around her and coaxed her near to him.

“Bridget, darlin’, I want ya to meet my friend, Sam Clemens.”

Bridget smiled shyly and held out her hand. Sam took her hand in his and kissed it.

“Sam, this is my fiancé, Bridget Reilly.” Hoss laughed nervously. “That’s the first time I said it, ‘my fiancé’. Sounds nice, don’t it?”

“Congratulations. May I offer a toast to the happy couple?” Sam bowed slightly.

Adam was pouring a glass of sherry for Bridget as Sara walked in. “Did I hear something about a toast?”

Adam poured sherry for Sara and added, “Sam was about to toast Hoss and Bridget’s engagement.”

She smiled warmly and said, “That’s a wonderful idea.” She looked into her husband’s eyes and was relieved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The meal was delicious and soon they fell into relaxed conversation about family, mutual friends and the goings on in Virginia City. Sam regaled everyone with his stories of adventures in California and his recent travels to the Sandwich Islands. Adam marveled at Sam's performance and noted how the scrappy young newspaper man from the Territorial Enterprise was morphing into a full fledged entertainer. The balance between fact and fiction in his stories had tipped. The stories he told were wild and humorous and the characters, while entirely made up, seemed more real.

When the conversation turned to the subject of Adam's life and his service in the War, Sam wasn't surprised by the convictions Adam held that led him to enlist. But that a Cartwright could leave the Ponderosa did surprise him.

When asked, Adam shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't not join to fight for the Union." His explanation ended with that.

"Did you see battle then?"

"Oh yeah, I saw the elephant at Chancellorville." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I was wounded at Cold Harbor."

Sam shook his head slowly. Even out west everyone know how brutal those battles had been. Huge losses were suffered on both sides.

Adam turned his head and smiled at Sara. "I was furloughed after that and recovered at my cousin's home in Massachusetts. It's where I met Sara and Amy."

Sara reached out and placed her hand on top of his.

"And now, I'm the happiest man alive."

"I don't know about that, big brother. Tonight I may be the happiest man," Hoss countered as he took Bridget's hand in his.

"But how'd you end up in this infernal place?," Sam asked. "You had thousands of acres of land in Nevada and now you live on a postage stamp."

"It was my experience in the mines in Virginia City that brought me here. While I was in Cambridge, I took classes in mine engineering and mineralogy at Harvard. Columbia was expanding their mining school and I joined them to teach."

"Say, that reminds me. Sam, I gotta question to ask ya 'bout somethin'. Adam, ya got that advertisement?" Hoss stood ready to retrieve the paper.

"It's on my desk."

Hoss returned and handed the paper to Sam. "What do ya know 'bout this?"

Sam gazed at the ad for the sale of Silvercrest Mining Stocks and shook his head. "News to me, boys."

"But yer name's right here," Hoss said, pointing to the sidebar. "Ya say it's 'the richest place on earth'."

"Well, Hoss, I don't deny I wrote that about Virginia City and the Comstock but not about this mine. I don't rightly know who's behind it."

"I found it on the new mine atlas today. It abuts the Lucky Star Mine."

"Didn't ol' Dan Menken have a stake up there?," Hoss asked.

Adam nodded. "Dan's mine was perpendicular with the Lucky Star. There was a small vein off Jim Duffy's rich one, but that played out years ago. Dan couldn't go further because of Jim's claim."

"You think someone's tryin' ta cheat folks with this?"

"I don't know, Hoss, but it's worth looking into. I'll wire Phillip and see what he knows. It would help to see the Exchange filing from San Francisco."

Sam leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Now gents, that's where I can help."

"Ya wanna help, Sam?"

"I don't like my name attached to this," Sam said pointing to the ad. "I'm a member of the Exchange, had to join to report on it. I'll see what I can find out."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Bridget, Hoss and Sam walked south along Broadway toward the Metropolitan Hotel.

"You're right, Hoss, your brother has changed since I last saw him.  Found a sense of humor, leastwise he appreciates my humor now.”


"Sara tamed him."

"Would that we all could have a woman like Sara to gentle us," Sam noted wistfully.

Hoss pulled Bridget closer to him.  "I do," he said.

"Yes, of course, Hoss.  You have your work cut out for you, Bridget," Sam said.  "I was speaking for myself.  I need a good woman to love.  When are you headed home, Hoss?"

"Too soon, three weeks, promised Pa I'd come home in March.  Bridget'll come with Adam and his family in June."

"He's moving back?"

"No, he takes students out ta the mines for the summer, that way we get ta see 'em every year.  Ya should see Pa with grandkids.  He's that happy.  And Adam's family likes it, too. That little Amy is quite a rider now."

"This mine scheme," Sam began.  "He's seems hell-bent on getting to the bottom of it.”


"Yeah, it's kinda personal.  Bridget's aunt wanted ta buy stock. If anyone can find out 'bout cheatin', it's Adam."

"Tell your aunt to stay out of the get-rich-quick mines stocks, Bridget.  The easy claims are all played out.  It's too risky a gamble right now," Sam advised.  "I always say that a miner is a liar standing next to a hole in the ground, and that, my fair Bridget is from someone who tried his hand at it and failed.  He added emphatically, “And from a member of the Exchange.  Well, we're here at my hotel."  He took Bridget's hand and kissed it.  "It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear.  I'll see you soon, Hoss."

They parted ways in front of the hotel.  Hoss and Bridget continued to walk to her rooming house.  At the bottom of the stoop, out of eyesight of Mrs. Sharkey, Hoss kissed her.

 "'Night, darlin'.  I'll be here in the mornin' to walk ya to Adam's."
xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 Hoss gently knocked on the door to Adam’s study and walked in.

“Ya writin’ to Pa?”

Adam nodded and leaned back in his chair.  “I’ve drafted a telegram to send to Philip Deisheimer tomorrow morning.  I need some more information before I write to Roy and Jonah Crum.”

“Jonah?  Ya think there’s somethin’ illegal goin’ on then?”

“I do, and I suspect by Sam’s reaction that he does as well.”

“Ya want Pa to snoop around for ya?”

“No.  I’m gonna wait to hear what Sam finds out about the prospectus.  Philip can tell me about the claim filing and mining engineer, if there is a mining engineer involved.

“I’ll be back in Virginia City in a month or so.”

“I’m counting on that, Hoss.  I want to keep the circle of those who know about this small.”

“Ya think this is dangerous?”

“Maybe.  It could be financially risky, more likely.”  He glanced at the message to Deisheimer and sighed.  He stood and stretched his back.  “Let’s go to bed, Hoss.  It’s been a long day.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam opened the curtains and cracked the window.  He pulled out a cigar and lit it, smoking while he watched the endless activity on Broadway.   Bemused, he thought back on the evening.   He shook his head trying to remember anything about the Silvercrest Mining.  He drew a blank. 

He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the desk chair.  He picked up a calling card from the desk.  Frank Fuller was a friend and fellow newspaperman now living in New York.  He was arranging a lecture for Sam at Cooper Union.

Well, truth be told, Frank Fuller was a bit of everything, a dentist, a lawyer, a newspaperman, and a wheeler dealer with important political and commercial connections in the east and out west.  If anyone in the city could help Sam find out about Silvercrest Mining Stocks, it was Frank Fuller.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Catherine Fuller opened the door and greeted Sam with a warm smile. She invited him in, and as she took his coat she said, “I was not expecting you. I’m afraid Frank just arrived. He’s upstairs changing.  He should be down any moment now. Did he ask you to dinner?”

“No, I dropped by hoping to have a few minutes of his time. I need to talk with him about a business venture.”

“Well, never mind, Sam. I insist that you stay for dinner. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” She led him into the parlor and motioned for him to sit by the fire. “Esme is visiting.”


Sam smiled. Esme Walters was Catherine’s younger sister, bright and attractive.

“A business venture, did you say, Sam? Are you looking for investors or to invest your own money?”

“Catherine, you know I don't have two coins to rub together." He grinned. "I promised some friends I’d ask Frank about some mining stocks out west.”

"Mining stocks? I thought you'd sworn off speculating on mines."

"I have," Sam answered. "But don't pretend Frank doesn't still have interest in Virginia City's silver."

Frank Fuller stepped into the room and kissed his wife. "What's this about Virginia City?"

"Silvercrest Mining Stocks."

"Don't know it off hand. Why the interest?"

"Adam Cartwright asked me to look into it."

"Cartwright? Why's he asking you?," Frank asked. "The Ponderosa is in Virginia City."

"But Adam is here…he's a professor at Columbia School of the Mines."

"That's a surprise! Still, why you?"

"My name appears in the endorsements in the advertisement. I don't know a thing about it."

Frank shook his head. "I'll look into it." He poured a whiskey and looked to Sam. "You staying for dinner, Sam?"

He nodded as he accepted a drink. Esme swept into the room. Sam stood to kiss her hand. "Miss Walters, how good to see you."

Sam regaled his hosts with stories of his travels to the Hawaii. He'd done a couple of lectures on the subject in California and Frank was helping him get some lecture dates while on the east coast. It would help spread his name as well as give him some much needed funds.

After dinner, Frank invited Sam to his study. "Adam Cartwright doesn't need your financial advice."

"He smells a rat. According to Adam, the mine is next to the Lucky Star but it was played out years ago."

Frank offered Sam a cigar. As he trimmed his own cigar, he added "I'll look into it and let you know."

"Thanks, Frank." He stood to shake his friend's hand.

"Now let's talk about a lecture series. I'm thinking here at Cooper Union, then on to Trenton, Philadelphia, and Washington. We'll make Mark Twain a household name."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

A few days later Adam received a note from Frank Fuller inviting him to a meeting in his office at 40 Broadway. Sam was invited as well.

“Do you know anything about this mine, Mr. Cartwright?” Fuller asked.

“I found it registered in the mining atlas, next to the Jim Duffy’s Lucky Star Mine. Dan Menken had a claim up there years ago, but what I remember is that Duffy was the one with the luck. Dan’s claim didn’t have much of a payoff.”

“Do you think Menken gave up too quick? There are veins that run narrow and very deep. Did he go down far enough?”

“No, going deeper wouldn’t have made a difference. The vein runs east/west and Dan’s mine runs into the Lucky Star to the east,” Adam explained. He accepted the glass of whiskey Fuller offered. “What have you found out?”

“Well, I sent a man to investigate for me,” Fuller replied.

Adam raised his eyebrow. “And?”

“He thinks my friend Sam here has some real competition when it comes to writing fiction,” Fuller chuckled. “To tell the truth, I think that it is a real humbug.”

“So who’s behind this,” Sam asked.

“The syndicate was formed here in New York, right over on Park Row. The mining agent is a Colonel Clarence Browne. My man said the paperwork looked all in order with the proper registration. The certificate of assaying is signed by a mining engineer named Captain Harold Morris.” Fuller took a sip of whiskey. He passed the advertisement pointing to the sponsors.  “You know these men?”

“Not at all,” Adam replied shaking his head.

“I just know in my bones this ain’t right,” Sam added. “There’s a couple of names from the San Francisco Stock Exchange but those fellers deal only in California mines. Never known ‘em to invest outside of that state. Trouble is the three of us can’t get involved. Our names are too well known.”

“But Bridget’s name isn’t known.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He was surprised that Adam would be so quick to involve his brother’s fiancé. “You’d send her in alone?”

“Who’s this Bridget?”

“His young housekeeper and his brother’s intended.”

“Not alone, Sam. Hoss’d go with her and maybe her aunt. The aunt could buy the stock as a wedding gift,” Adam said as he hatched a scheme. “They could go and ask questions. Maybe, as investors, they could get a copy of the prospectus.”

“Gentlemen, have you discussed this with anyone outside of this room?” Fuller asked.

“I’ve written Philip Deidesheimer, but no one else outside my family.”

“Deisdesheimer is a good man. I trust he will keep things under wraps for now,” Fuller said. “There’s no use alerting anyone else ‘til we find out more.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At lunch the next afternoon Adam and Frank Fuller gave careful instructions to Hoss and Bridget. It was decided that the couple would go to the Silvercrest Mining sales offices and make inquiries about buying stock. To keep things simple, they were to introduce themselves as an engaged couple. They were to say that Bridget, or rather her aunt, was interested inbuying stock as a wedding gift. Hoss was to use his birth name, Eric, and if pressed, he would use Adam’s mother’s name, Stoddard. They were to ask to examine a prospectus and the projected profits report. Then they should ask if they might take the report to show the aunt with the promise of returning with her within the week.

Hoss squeezed Bridget’s hand to give her confidence as they climbed the stairs to the second story sales office. He knocked softly on the door and they entered. They were quickly ushered into Colonel Browne’s office. Hoss grinned as he saw the tall older man outfitted in western gear, complete with a rawhide vest and his Stetson hat lying on the desk. He guessed it was to lend an air of authenticity to naïve buyers.

The Colonel stood and pointed to the chairs flanking his desk. “Welcome, folks! What can I do for ya?”

“My aunt is interested in making me a gift of stock for my wedding,” Bridget began slowly. She pulled a paper from her pocketbook. “She saw this advertisement in the Eagle.”

The Colonel nodded. “Well folks, ya come to the right place. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” He pointed to a map spread on a table near the window. “Why, I tell ya, I’ve never seen anything like this. Ya only have to dip yer shovel in the ground to come up with silver. A great investment in the future.”

Hoss smiled warmly. “We don’t know nuthin’ about mines, ‘cept what we heard about the Comstock. That bar holdin’ the paper down on yer desk, is that real silver?”

“Pure silver, son. Just a sample of what comes out of the Silvercrest. There’s plenty more where that comes from.. Every day is a payday at that mine. Wanna hold it?” He passed the bar to Bridget.

She took the bar and was surprised how heavy it was. She fingered the top, thinking if it were true that the mine was legitimate, her aunt would stand to make money and finally give up taking in borders.

“Like I said, Colonel, Bridget and me are new to this. Do ya have somethin’ on paper I can read?”

“Sure, son,” Browne answered as he pulled a pamphlet from under a pile of papers. “This here is a prospectus, proves the mine’s on the up and up. And this here is the latest earnings projection.” He pointed to a chart on the last page. “You get in now and ya’ll make money hand over fist.”

“I need some time ta look this over," Hoss said hesitantly. "Can I take this to show Aunt Mariah? She’s dippin’ into her life savings for this.”

“I don’t normally let that go,” Browne said. Bridget looked crestfallen and Browne relented. “I’m gonna regret this, but sure, take it with ya.”

Hoss smiled and thought the Colonel certainly would regret lending the prospectus if Adam’s suspicions were confirmed. “Well, thank ya, Colonel. I’ll take real good care of it. We’ll be back real soon.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Crossing the street to City Hall Park, Hoss spied Tony.

“Hey li’l fella, how are ya?”

“Mr. Hoss, yer brother told me to tell ya to meet him at the Metropolitan Hotel.”  Tony looked up at the second floor window.  “Buy a paper ‘cause that man’s eyein’ ya from his window.”

Hoss took a nickel from his pocket and Tony handed him a newspaper.  Tony doffed his cap and said, “I’ll see ya soon, Mr. Hoss,” as he walked away.

Bridget took Hoss’ arm and the couple turned north to walk up Broadway to the hotel.  They found Adam, Sam and Frank Fuller waiting for them in the lobby.  Adam took Bridget’s hand and led her to a seat near the roaring fireplace.

“Are you all right?” he asked his future sister-in-law.

She nodded. 

“We got the prospectus,” Hoss said as he dug in his coat pocket to retrieve it.  “Tony noticed the Colonel was watchin’ us as we left.”

“Probably calculating his profit,” Sam surmised.  “There’s a sucker born every minute. He just doesn’t know, that in this particular case, he’s the sucker.”

“So let’s look at this document.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The front of the blue pamphlet looked familiar and dull. It was printed in a style that evoked trust for nervous, first-time investors.  Its ordinariness gave them the welcome impression that the Silvercrest Mining Corporation was a reputable and sober business.

 

SILVERCREST MINING CORPORATION

Virginia City, Storey County, Nevada

 

Incorporated, 30th day of July, 1866

 
Thomas Barton, President

John McKean, Vice-President

 

Directors:

 Charles E. Pepper, W. W. Hicks, Enoch Reese, Stephen O’Hara, James R. Casey, Lewis Hardy, Theodore White, Joshua Hogan, Frederick Minton, Ryan Pepper, Theodore Quayle.

 

Col. Clarence Browne, Mining Agent

 

Howe & Ferry, Printers and Stationers, No. 76 Bowery, New York, N. Y.

 

Unimpressed, Adam opened the pamphlet and skipped over the formal legal language to find details.

“The object of this venture shall be the development of the former Dan Menken claim, the Silvercrest Mine, for the mining, stamping, and selling of silver and other ores and metals, and for these purposes may acquire and hold by purchase, lease or other title, personal property, lands, and mining claims and rights, and construct and maintain buildings, machinery, and other erections and other improvements thereon, with the power to any such lands or other property.”

“Said Capital Stock shall consist of twenty thousand shares of one hundred dollars which number may be increased to ten million dollars.”

“Whew, that’s $2,000,000!” Hoss exclaimed.  “That’s a lot of start up cash.”

“On the backs of a lot small investors like my aunt,” Bridget added.

Adam read the first paragraph of the Report of Captain Harold Morris, Mining Engineer.

“Of the Silvercrest Mine, I believe it to be one of the best and most production mining ventures in Nevada. . . . Touching on its capacity to recover silver ore, we deem it perfectly safe to estimate a yield of thirty tons a day with proper labor force.  This estimate is not speculative but a certainty.”

“Well, none of it is real,” Hoss added.  “That mine played out years ago.  It’s all a lie.”

“The stuff that dreams are made on,” Adam said quoting Shakespeare.

“Gentlemen, now that we have the specifics, I suggest we get to work on investigating this operation,” Fuller announced. “This Thomas Barton, I figure that's “Bat” Thomas.”

“I was just thinkin’ the same, Frank,” Sam answered.

“Who’s Bat Thomas?” Adam asked.

“A real black-hearted, silver-tongued, slippery weasel if ever there was one,” Sam said. “He’d sell his sister if he knew he’d get a tidy profit. First met him on a riverboat headed north out of New Orleans. Called himself Captain Bat Thomas, claimed he’d fought with Sam Houston in Texas.”

"Promoted himself to major by the time he settled in St. Louis," Fuller added. "He dressed in buckskins and hung around the docks looking for easy targets for poker games."

"Showed up in 'Frisco about four years ago," Sam continued, "buying up unprospected worthless claims and selling 'em to folks with half the sense they were born with. The deeds were such that if the buyer couldn't make a go of it in a year's time, and no one could, the ownership went back to Thomas. He sold those worthless claims several times over, making fists full of dollars 'til the state started sniffing 'round him."

"Probably why this mine venture is listed here in New York and not California," Fuller added. "My bet is that half the men named as directors don't know a thing about this, just like you Sam. Your name is in the advert but you were none the wiser 'til Hoss showed it to you."

"So he moves on to Virginia City where folks don't know him to make his mischief," Hoss said. "Dirty rattlesnake."

"As I see it, we should work on two fronts," Adam said. "Hoss, you'll be our link to both New York and Virginia City."

Hoss looked at his brother for more explanation.

"We need to buy stock here in New York. I'd say about a thousand dollars worth. Then we need information about the mine when you get back home."

"But I can’t buy stock in my name," Hoss said.

"Oh lordie, Adam, Aunt Mariah can't pay for that. That's her life savings she'd lose." Bridget gasped.

"She won't, my dear," Adam assured her. "Sara will. She'll pose as your aunt and buy the stock as "Sara Knowles," her name before she married me. That way, she'll be the aggrieved party in a potential lawsuit here in New York."

"I like the way you think, Cartwright," Fuller said as he stroked his whiskers. "Perhaps I should find another buyer, my sister-in-law Esme or one of my clerks."

Adam smiled at Fuller and leaned forward to shake his hand. "It'll be a pleasure to work with you, Frank."

"Pleasure's all mine, Adam."

Hoss swallowed hard and squeezed Bridget's hand to reassure her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day there was a telegram from Philip Deidesheimer waiting for Adam when he returned home after classes. 

SM sign posted STOP Untouched mine site. STOP  Nothing more than large kidney mine.  STOP Depth of vein four feet to few inches. STOP No trace fissure mine.

Adam contacted both Sam and Frank Fuller and they agreed to meet at the Metropolitan Hotel on Friday evening.   Adam passed the telegram to Sam and Frank. 

“It’s a confidence game all right,” Adam began.  “But we knew that.”

“Trouble with Bat is that he’s crafty.   If he isn’t too arrogant and brash in his thieving, no one will meddle with him,” Sam said.

“Two million dollars ain’t brash?” Hoss asked.

“They’re not lookin’ for that sum, Hoss,” Adam explained.  “They’re lookin’ for a quick sale of say $50,000.”

“Their advertisements might bring in more.   Maybe $100,000 is my guess,” Frank said.

“Still, that’s a tidy sum,” Hoss said.

“You ready to buy some stock, Hoss?” Sam asked.

“I am but Bridget is pretty jumpy.”

“She doesn’t have to go.  Sara is willing,” Adam said.

“I took the liberty of talking to a friend, a classmate in fact, in the District Attorney’s Office, strictly hypothetically of course,” Frank said. 

“And, hypothetically, what did he have to say?” Adam asked with a smile remembering that Frank Fuller was an attorney.

“Hypothetically it would strengthen our case if I sent one of my employees, my accountant, Asa Barnes, to buy some stock as well.  He can say he is looking to invest with a group.  He might even bring a fellow group member with him,” Frank laughed softly.  “Another friend, a detective friend.”

“Then do you need me and Sara?” Hoss asked.

“We do,” Frank said.  “We’re gonna need you here and back in Virginia City.  You and Mrs. Cartwright will be the link joins the pieces of this case together.”

“I see,” Hoss said nodding.  “Say Adam does Jonah Crum know anything yet?”

“Not yet.  I needed Philip’s information.” Seeing Fuller’s puzzled expression Adam explained that Crum was the state’s attorney in Virginia City

“I suggest we hold off notifying Mr. Crum until we have more evidence on this end,” Fuller said.  “I’m sure that this is a fraud but we need to prove it.  And I am confident in my connections to the courts in Nevada.  Now, with our business settled, shall we adjourn to the bar?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On Monday, Hoss returned to the sales office for the Silvercrest Mining Corporation with Sara with the intent to buy shares in the worthless mine.  The transaction went unquestioned and an hour later they left with an elaborately printed certificate of ownership for ten shares.  They proceeded to Frank Fuller’s law office to deposit the certificate for safe keeping.

Late that afternoon there was a loud knocking on the front door.  Adam opened it to a very frightened and breathless Nico.  "Mister!  I'm lookin' for Mister Cartwright.  Is he here?"

"I’m Mr. Cartwright, son."

Nico slumped against the doorframe, crestfallen.  “Yer not him.  He’s a big man.”

Overhearing the conversation, Hoss walked out into the hallway.  "Nico, is that you?"

"Come in, son," Adam said and pulled the boy into the house.  "What's the matter?"

"It's Tony!   He's hurt.  We was hoppin' off the horse-car and it jerked.  He fell hard in the street.  He was out cold and they took him away."

"Who took him, Nico?"

"Coppers.  They put 'im in a wagon and off they went."

"Where did it happen?"

"At Jefferson Market."

Hoss looked alarmed and asked Adam, "Where would they take him?"

"Saint Vincent's Hospital is my guess."

"Wait here, son.  I'll get my coat and we'll go.  Don't worry, we'll find him."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hoss and Nico ran to the hospital on West 11th Street.  There they were stopped in their tracks by the formidable Sister Regina.  As a Sister of Charity she was dressed in a long dark habit with a white headdress that made her appear taller than her nearly six feet.  Built like a stevedore, she ably guarded the door. 

“Now where do you think you’re off to?”

“Please, S’ter, my pal Tony might be here,” Nico blurted.

Sister Regina grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.  “Who is this Tony?”

Hoss stepped forward his hat in his hands and addressed her.  “He’s a newsboy, ma’am. Jest a little fella. Nico here saw him get hurt in horse-car accident at Jefferson Market this afternoon.  He was taken away on a cart.  We’re hoping he was brung here.”

Her fearsome expression melted and she nodded.  “He’s here.  Lucky little fella he is.  He’s up in the children’s ward.”  She squeezed Nico’s shoulder and said, “You can have a quick look and then you’re gone young man.”  She gazed at Hoss and asked, “Are you the father?”

“No, ma’am.  He never said anything ‘bout his father but his mother died a few weeks ago.  I’d say Nico and me, we’re ‘bout all he has in the world.”

She nodded and said, “Then you’re next of kin.  You can stay the night with him.”  She pointed to the staircase. “Upstairs and to the right is the children’s ward.  Ask for Sister Mary Therese.”

They walked into ward.  Rows of cots lined the room and under the starched white sheets lay pale and silent young patients.  They found Tony easily. His head was swathed in a bandage stained with iodine.  His left shoulder was in a splint.  He was lying still with his eyes shut against the pain. 

“Tony, ya okay?”  Nico’s resolve melted and tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Nico?”  Tony opened his eyes.  “Oh Mr. Hoss, yer here too?”  He started to sob. 

Hoss sat on the bed and gathered Tony in his arms.  “Yer okay, son.  I’m here.”

“You’re the next of kin, I suppose,” Sister Mary Therese asked as she approached the bed.

Hoss nodded. 

“That’s good.  He’s a lucky boy, just bruises and a shoulder out of joint and a good bump on the noggin.  The doctor wants him to stay tonight.  Are you staying with him then?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ll need to wake him every hour and see that he’s alert.”

“I understand.”

“But this boy,” she pointed to Nico, “can’t stay.”

Before Nico could put up a fight, Hoss answered.  “Son, I need for ya to go to my brother’s house and tell ‘em I’m stayin’ here tonight.  Then tomorrow mornin’ I need ya to bring some clean clothes for Tony.  It’d help me out somethin’ fierce if ya do that.”

Reluctantly Nico nodded. 

Hoss reached out and mussed his hair.  “Go on now, Nico.  We’re fine.  See ya in the mornin’.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dutifully, Hoss kept vigil over Tony. The doctor suspected a slight concussion and advised Hoss to keep him awake as long as he could and to wake him often throughout the night to guard against a coma. Hoss nodded and followed the instructions. Plenty of times he'd heard that same advise when a bronco had thrown Adam and Joe or when they got into scrapes. He thought about Doc Martin's impatience with his brothers' misadventures. "You'd think one of these times they'd knock a little sense INTO their heads!"

He watched the boy carefully and thought long and hard about what to do about Tony. He would not allow him to be in harm's way again if he could help it. Near dawn he asked the night nurse for some paper and a pencil. He drafted a telegram to his father working to get the wording just right. He folded the paper and placed it in his shirt pocket and dozed for an hour or so before Tony woke.

"Mister Hoss," Nico said as he tapped Hoss's shoulder. "Mister Hoss."

Hoss woke with a start and rubbed his eyes. "Oh Nico, you're early. Did ya bring some clothes?"

"Yessiree," Nico answered handing Hoss a bag.

"Good boy. Thanks."

"How is he?"

"Well, the doc says he's doing first-rate. That's jest natural sleep, nuthin' to worry about. He's got more color than yesterday. I'm sure he'll still have a walloping headache when he wakes up but he'll be jest fine."

"I was so scared for 'im."

"I know, Nico. Yer a good pal to Tony."

"Where you gonna take 'im?"

"My brother Adam's house. His wife Sara and my Bridget will mother him a bit."

"Mister Hoss… I think maybe he's too little to be a newsboy. I tried to help him but he still got hurt."

"You did real good, Nico. It was an accident but ya might be right that he's too young," Hoss said. He had his hand on the boy's shoulder to reassure him. "Why don't you wake him up and we'll head on over to Adam's house."
xxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam walked Amy to school and made his way to the university before Hoss arrived home with Tony in his arms. Bridget answered the door and led the way into Adam’s study, followed by Hoss, Nico and Sara. The settee was made up as a day bed, the sheets turned down waiting for the boy. A warm fire was lit and the curtains had been drawn. Bright lights aggravated Tony’s aching head.

“He don’t have a nightshirt,” Nico said.

“We’ll make do,” Sara answered as she removed Tony’s hat and coat. “Bridget, would you fetch one of Adam’s undershirts?”

“I’ll get it, hon,” Hoss answered looking at Bridget.

“Are you hungry Hoss?” Bridget asked.

“Yeah, I missed dinner last night. How ‘bout you, Nico? Bet you skipped breakfast this mornin’.”

The boy nodded and Bridget put her hand on his shoulder. “Then let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll fry up some ham and eggs. We’ve got biscuits ready and there’s plenty of honey. Sound good to you?”

Hoss returned with the shirt and helped Sara slide it over Tony’s head. They were careful not to jostle his shoulder too much but he was ashen when Sara settled him back against the plumped pillows. His eyes were shut tight and his breathing was quite shallow as he fought off the pain.

“I’ll stay with him. Go have breakfast, Hoss,” Sara said as she pulled the blanket up around Tony’s shoulders. She felt his forehead to check for a fever. Her gentleness made him miss his mother. She used to comfort him this way when he was sick.

“Ma’am?” He opened his eyes to break the spell.

She smiled warmly. “Are you hungry, Tony?”

He barely shook his head. He was hungry but he feared the nausea caused by his concussion would make him sick again if he ate.

“Not even for some cinnamon toast and hot cocoa?” She knew she could disguise the bitter powder for his headache in the cocoa. “Just a taste?”

“A little hungry, maybe. Don’t wanna be any trouble.”

“No trouble at all, sweetie. You sit still and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She walked into the kitchen to find Hoss and Nico tucking into a hearty breakfast. She took a vial of powder from the cupboard and asked, “Bridget, is there more cocoa made?”

Bridget filled a cup and handed it to Sara who added a pinch of the powder to it.

“Could you make a slice of cinnamon toast?”

“I’ll bring it in to you as soon as it is finished.”

Sara returned to the study and helped Tony sit up to drink the cocoa. “Now drink it all up, Tony. It’ll warm you from the inside.”

Bridget brought the toast and Tony managed to eat most of it before he laid back against the pillows. Soon he closed his eyes and was fast asleep.

Back in the kitchen Hoss pulled out the paper from his shirt pocket. “Nico, I got one more errand for ya, if yer willin’. I need ya to send a telegram to my pa out west.”

“But Tony….”

“I reckon Tony’s gonna sleep most of today, son. He’s really not up for visitors yet.”

Nico nodded and took the paper from Hoss, who pulled out two dollar coins and handed it to the boy.

“Don’t know how much it’ll cost to send. Maybe ya can buy Tony a little present.”

“Like some licorice? He loves red licorice.”

“That’s a good idea. Maybe ya can buy somethin’ fer yerself.”

“Thanks, Mr. Hoss.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bridget made up a cot for Tony in the children’s room. Hoss tried to insist he’d watch the boy through the night, but he was exhausted from the sleepless night the day before and was yawning by eight o’clock. Adam gently reminded him that loud noises exacerbated headaches.

“What do ya mean?”

“Snoring, Hoss.”

“I don’t snore that loud, Adam.”

Amy giggled.

“Only like a rumbling summer thunderstorm,” Adam teased. “Close your door or you’ll keep us all awake.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In the middle of the night Amy tiptoed into her parents’ room and nudged her father’s shoulder.

“Papa. Papa, wake up.”

Adam woke with a start and turned toward her.

“It’s Tony, Papa. He’s having a nightmare. He’s crying for his mama.”

Adam rose and put on his robe and slippers and walked Amy back to the children’s room. He turned the gas light on low and tucked Amy back into bed, kissing the top of her head.

“You did the right thing, Amy. Sweet dreams.”

Tony’s forehead was damp with fever and he was murmuring in his sleep. Adam sat on the edge of the cot and rubbed the boy’s back.

“There, there, Tony. It’s all right, son. It’s just a dream.”

The boy woke and stared at Adam, not recognizing him or the surroundings.

“Tony, son, it’s Mr. Cartwright,” Adam said softly. “Do you know where you are? You were having a bad dream. You’re safe here, son.”

“Mister Hoss?”

“Shhhh…..do you hear that snoring? That’s Hoss.”

The boy sighed in relief. Adam gathered him up in his arms and leaned down to pick up a blanket at the foot of the bed. He sat in the rocker and wrapped the boy in the blanket.

“When Amy has a bad dream she likes to sit with me a while,” he said as he began to rock the boy slowing. Tony rested his head on Adam’s broad chest and he listened to the strong steady heartbeat. His breathing slowed and soon he was asleep. Adam continued to rock him until he was sure the boy was fast asleep. Then he settled Tony back in bed and turned down the light.

Back in bed, Adam nestled close to Sara and put his arm around her waist.

“That little boy needs a family,” Sara said sleepily.

“I know.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Long before the sun was up Hoss sat in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee and deep in contemplation.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Adam said softly as he moved in the direction of the coffeepot on the stove.

“Mornin’, Adam.” Hoss sighed. “Jest thinkin’ ‘ bout that little boy.”

“He woke from a nightmare last night. He was crying for his mother.”

Hoss’s brow furrowed. “I was wrong about him. It was too much. He’s too young to be workin’.

“I think so, too,” Adam said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He needs a family.”

“Been thinkin’ about that since the other night.”

“Hoss, you did a good thing to find him a spot in the Newsboys' Lodge downtown but you can’t take on the responsibility of that boy just as you marry Bridget.”

“You took on Amy when you married Sara.”

“It’s different. Amy was Sara’s daughter. Tony is….well, Tony is a stranger really.”

“I know. I ain’t even had a chance to talk to Bridget about this. I wrote Pa ‘bout it.”

“Pa?”

“Yeah, well, I was thinkin’ that maybe the Santini’s might take Tony in.” Hoss paused when he saw Adam’s confusion. “You know, the folks that cook up at the timber camp. They lost a little boy jest about Tony’s age last winter.”

“And if they don’t want to take him in?”

“Well he can stay with me and Pa and Joe for a while ‘til I find him a place then. I jest know I gotta get him somewhere safer than here. He coulda died in that accident, Adam.” The clock in the parlor struck six and Hoss stood. “Gotta go pick up Bridget. If’n he wakes up, tell Tony I’ll be right back.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a letter from Frank Fuller waiting for Adam at his office, stating that the second sale of Silvercrest Mining stock to his accountant and Detective Allan Murphy had gone smoothly. Their stock certificates, and those that Sara purchased, were now in the Det. Murphy’s files in the City Hall Police Station. A copy of the prospectus and the filings with the Exchange were there also. He asked Adam to hand over the Deidesheimer telegram and any other information he had gathered. The police were pursuing the case “with interest.”

Adam leaned back in his desk chair and read the letter again. He thought back on the early morning talk he’d had with Hoss and worried that he and Fuller were putting too much pressure on his brother. He believed Bat Thomas and his cronies were thieves but were they desperate men? And how dangerous would they be when their scheme was exposed? Hoss planned to leave in two weeks. He’d be in Virginia City in a month’s time. And he and Bridget would start a new life together in June. Adam ran his hand over his forehead and sighed.

He pulled his chair close to the desk and a clean sheet of paper from his desk tray. He began a letter to Roy Coffee. As he outlined the situation in plain simple terms he saw that Hoss did not need to act alone in the investigation in Nevada. Adam crumbled up the letter and began a new one to Fuller asking to meet with him in his office the next afternoon.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam hung his coat and scarf on the peg near the door and stepped into his study to drop off his satchel.  There he found the fire burning warmly and Hoss seated on the settee with Tony and Amy flanking him.  He was entertaining them with the story about Old Sheba, the elephant he and Joe brought to the Ponderosa.

“Grandpa was sure mad about Old Sheba, right Uncle Hoss?”

“That’s right, Amy,” Adam answered.  “He nearly blew his stack.”

“A real elephant, Mr. Hoss?”

“Yep and tame as a kitten she was.  Pa grew quite fond of her.”

Adam smiled wryly.   “If you say so, Hoss.”

Sara walked in with Jacob in her arms.  Adam kissed her and grabbed his squirming son.

“Watch out, Papa, he’s drooling.”

Adam ignored the warning and held Jacob high and then lowered him and exclaimed, “Boo.” The baby squealed with laughter.  Tony winced at the volume of the laughing.  Sara noticed and interrupted the scene.

“Dinner will be ready in half an hour.  Amy, I need you to set the table for me.”

“Is Tony eating with us?”

“I think we will spare him our family circus at meal time today.  How does your head feel, son?” Adam asked noting that Tony was still pale.

“Better, sir.”

“But bright lights still bother you?”

“A little.”

“And loud noises?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll leave you and Hoss alone then.  I’ll bring you a dinner tray in a few minutes,” Sara said as she ushered the family from the room.

xxxxxxxxx

After dinner Bridget stood at the sink doing dishes.  Hoss placed dirty dishes on the counter and hugged her from behind.  He leaned down and kissed her neck.  He paused and breathed in the scent of her hair.

“Oh darlin’, jest two weeks before I leave and I can’t think about life without ya.”

Bridget leaned back and took his hand in hers.  She raised it to her lips and kissed it. 

“Love is funny, isn’t it?   We met at Christmas and now look at us,” she said as she turned to face him. 

He gathered her in his arms and kissed her fully.

“I’ve been thinkin’.  I don’t wanna leave with jest yer promise to marry me.  How ‘bout we get married before I go?”

“But I promised Aunt Mariah I’d stay until spring.”

“I know and we’ll honor that.  But when we’re apart, the first thing in the mornin’ and last thing at night and all through the day, I wanna know that we’re man and wife.”

“Can we do that?”

“I was thinkin’ I’d ask that Frank Fuller.  He’s got friends in high places.  If he can get somebody, can you be ready by next week?”

Her eyes glistened with tears and she nodded.  He lifted her and spun her around.

“That’s my girl!  I love ya, Bridget Reilly.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Mr. Cartwright is here to see you,” Frank Fuller’s secretary announced.

“Show him in,” Fuller said without looking up from his paperwork.  He rose to greet his guest and was caught by surprise.  There stood Hoss, not Adam, with whom he had an appointment.

“Hoss, I wasn’t expecting you.  What can I do for you?”

Hoss shook Fuller’s outstretched hand and sat in the chair facing the desk. 

“I need a favor, Frank.  I wanna marry Bridget before I go back home.  And I need a will in case anything happens to me.”

“Bat Thomas is a scallywag, Hoss, but he’s usually not dangerous.”

“Still wanna marry her.”

“Well that is understandable, my friend.  It is obvious that you are meant for each other.  Now when is it that you’re leaving?”

“On the 28th.”

Fuller smiled at his new friend and assured him that a judge or a suitable official could be found.  “I’ll call in a favor, don’t you worry.  I’ll be in touch.”

Hoss grinned in relief.  He thanked Fuller and stood to leave as the secretary announced that the other Mr. Cartwright had arrived for his appointment.

Adam walked in, hat in hand, and surprised to find his brother.  Hoss smiled at his brother.

“We’re jest finishin’ up here, Adam.”  Hoss winked at Fuller. 

“Finishing up?”

“Jest a little legal business, brother, don’t concern ya right now.  See ya at home.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam and Fuller spent the next hour discussing the plan of action against Silvercrest Mining and Adam’s concerns.  It was agreed that the New York case, now in the hands of the local police, did not require more intervention on the part of the Cartwrights.  Adam brought the Deidesheimer telegram.  He would advise Philip to use carbon paper to create copies of any further correspondence to be added to the file.

“I think that is time to include Sheriff Coffee and the local State’s Attorney Jonah Crum in this matter.”

“Crum’s a good man.  I agree,” Fuller said. 

“I’d like to protect my brother and minimize his involvement in Virginia City.”  Fuller started to object and Adam interrupted. “He’s about to marry Bridget and start a new life.  I don’t want to put them in jeopardy.  It won’t hurt this case to put it on hold until I get to Nevada in late May.  Agreed?”

“Yes.  We can work with the authorities and home in on the investigation more narrowly.  But you’ve got a family, Adam.  Why put yourself in harm’s way?”

“Because, unlike Hoss, I’ve got the background to challenge these frauds.  I won’t make myself a target, I assure you.”

Fuller nodded.   He’d get in touch with Det. Allan Murphy, Roy Coffee and Jonah Crum.  He’d use his connections from his days in the territorial government to keep close tabs on the Silvercrest Mining Corporation.

“That’s settled then,” Adam said as he shook Fuller’s hand.  “It puts my mind at ease.  Now what’s this business you’re doing with my brother?”

“It’s his story to tell, Adam. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next Friday, the small wedding party left Frank Fuller’s law office, and proceeded to the Astor Hotel.  There they had a champagne toast and cake to celebrate the occasion. Another wedding ceremony and party was planned for June in Virginia City.  As best man, Adam presented the toast.  He noticed Hoss’s anxious look and suggested that he and Sara were needed at home.  Sam, Frank Fuller, Aunt Mariah and the judge took the hint and they all made quick excuses to leave. Bridget and Hoss remained to begin their short honeymoon.

The bellboy opened the door to the suite Adam had arranged for them.  Hoss tipped him and quietly closed the door.  Bridget stood in the center of the room taking it all in.  The velvet curtains, the lace pillow shams on the large bed, the soft lighting, the iced bottle of champagne, and scent of roses from the huge bouquet on the vanity.  Hoss embraced her from behind. 

“Are you happy, Mrs. Cartwright?”

She turned to kiss him. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.”

She smiled coyly. 

“I gotta take off this jacket and this dang tie, it’s chokin’ me to death.”

He draped his black suit jacket over the vanity chair and stood before her in his red vest.  She unbuttoned it and wrapped her arms underneath it and around his waist.  “Hoss Cartwright, all that walking to pick me up and take me home every day for a month worked.  This shirt fits you!” 

“Maybe I was jest lovesick, darlin’,” he said, chuckling.  “Can’t hardly breathe in that jacket though.”

“Still, you’re a very handsome man,” she cooed as she removed his vest and pulled his shirt from his trousers. 

“Why Mrs. Cartwright, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re a brazen hussy,” Hoss teased.  He lifted her and carried her to the bed.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam and Sara arrived home and thanked their neighbor Anna for watching Jacob and Tony.  Amy was across the street playing with the Marshall girls.  While Sara started dinner Adam fetched Amy.

“Hey, where’s Bridget?  And where’s Uncle Hoss?” 

Tony was smiling slyly sitting on the settee in the parlor.  His arm was still in a sling but he was much recovered.  “I’ve got a secret.”

“What kind of secret?”

“A BIG one ‘bout Mr. Hoss.”

“What about Uncle Hoss?”

Tony smiled triumphantly and announced, “He got married today.”

“Tony Lucca, you quit lying.  My Uncle Hoss did not get married.  He’s getting married in Virginia City and I’m gonna be a flower girl.”

Adam walked into the room just as a furious Amy approached Tony. “Wait a minute, little girl.  What’s got your dander up?” he asked as he put his hands on her shoulders and steered her away.

“Tony said Uncle Hoss and Bridget got married today and I say it’s a lie.  It is a lie.  Tell him, Papa.”

“Oh dear,” Adam said under his breath.  They hadn’t told the children about the wedding.  Hoss hadn’t told his father or Joe either.  It was the couple’s preference to make this commitment privately before Hoss returned out west to pledge their love for one another. There would be a public wedding and reception at the Ponderosa when Bridget arrived later.

“How did you know?”

Amy’s eyes widened in disbelief.  “You mean they did?”

“Mr. Hoss asked ya where ya put the wedding ring before ya left.”

“Papa?” Amy asked with tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said as he hugged her.  “Tony is right.  But you’ll still be the flower girl in June.”

“I have a thing or two to say to them when they get home,” Amy said putting Adam in mind of his father’s tone.

“I’m sure that you do, sweetie.  Why don’t you go help your mama in the kitchen?”

She harrumphed and stomped her way out of the room.  A crooked smile crossed Adam’s face.  “Hell hath no fury….”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Late Sunday afternoon Bridget and Hoss returned.  A trunk of Bridget’s belongings was delivered on Saturday and was placed at the foot of the bed in Hoss’s room.  Amy’s temper had cooled and she was happy to be a part of keeping the secret from Ben and Joe.  She greeted her uncle and her new aunt warmly.  Sara baked a cake and Adam concocted a fizzy sugary punch for toasting to the couple after dinner.

A letter from Ben arrived in the next morning’s mail.  It was in reply to Hoss’s inquiry about the Santini’s interest in adoption.  Hoss sat at Adam’s desk and read the letter carefully.  It was good news.  They wanted to meet Tony. 

Bridget walked in with a cup of hot coffee for Hoss.  She stopped in the doorway and noted with concern his furrowed brow.  She took a deep breath and continued into the room. 

“Hoss, honey.  Is anything the matter?”

“What,” Hoss looked up.  “No darlin’, it’s good news really.”  He sighed.  “It’s jest that sometimes good news can hurt.” 

Bridget placed the cup on the desk and Hoss pulled her into his lap.  “I think I found a home for Tony and I’ll miss him.”

“That letter is from your father.  Is Tony going to live with him?”

“There’s a couple who work for us at the timber camp, Bruno and Lucy Santini.  They lost a son ‘bout Tony’s age a year or so ago.  They’re interested.”

“They’re good people, right?”

“Oh yeah.  It was my idea to get in touch with ‘em.  I thought it’d be good for them and for Tony.   They’re Italian, he’s Italian.  They could talk the same language.  They lost a boy.  He needs folks.”

She smoothed his brow.  “And what’s different now?”

“Now?,” he paused for a moment.  “I guess he’s worked his way into my heart.”


“And you think he won’t do that with the Santini’s?” she asked gently.  “You have to think, what is best for Tony.”

“You’re right.  We’ll hafta see what happens when they meet.  I do know that he’d be better off in Virginia City.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The week before Hoss and Tony left flew by like a whirlwind.  There was shopping to do for Tony, gifts to buy for Ben and Joe, packing trunks and arranging freight delivery, and saying goodbye to friends.

Nico stood tall and brave as he wished his little pal well.  “You be good, Tony. If’n ya get in trouble, I’ll come lookin’ fer ya.”  Hoss walked the boy to the door and caught him in a bear hug.  “It’s da right thing ta do, Mister Hoss, but it don’t mean I wanna see da last of ‘im.” 

“Yer always welcome at the Ponderosa, son.”

“Thanks, Mister.”

Hoss said his goodbyes to Sara and Amy at home.   Adam accompanied Hoss and Bridget to the train station and stood a small distance away with Tony as the couple parted. 

“You ready to go, Tony?” Adam asked.

“I guess so, Mr. Cartwright.  Nico say as I’m not a little scared.” 

Adam put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to comfort him.  “You’ll be fine, son.  Why by the time we see you again, you’ll have lots of good things to tell us.  I’m betting you’ll be riding a pony better than Amy.”

“A pony?  Really?”

“Sure.  Ask Hoss.  He’ll teach you to ride.”

“Yes, sir!”

The conductor called for the passengers to board.  With tears in their eyes, the couple parted.  Hoss grabbed Tony’s hand and they boarded.  Hoss opened the window and waved to Bridget as the train pulled out of the station.

Adam put his arm around Bridget.  “It’ll go by quickly.  Sara has a list as long as my arm of things you need to do before you move out west.”  He kissed the top of her head. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three weeks later

The stage pulled into Virginia City on time for once.  Ben and Joe stood waiting on the boardwalk for Hoss to step down.  A small distance away stood Bruno and Lucy Santini.

Hoss climbed down first and assisted a pair of ladies.  Tony jumped from the stage, relieved that the journey was over.   Hoss caught him, laughing at the boy’s enthusiasm.

“Well look at him,” Joe said nudging his father’s elbow.  “He’s all citified in that coat.”

“He looks mighty good to me,” Ben answered as he stepped off the boardwalk toward his son.

“Pa!” Hoss called out and embraced his father in a bear hug.  “It’s good to be home.”

Tony stood close to Hoss but he was watching a couple who were watching him.  The woman was small with dark hair and a bright smile.  She wore a pretty yellow dress and straw hat. Her eyes glistened as she looked at the boy.  The man stood quietly and nodded at the boy.

Tony poked at Hoss and asked, “Is that them, Mister Hoss?”

Hoss turned to face the Santini’s and took Tony’s hand.  They walked over to greet the couple.

“Signor, mi chiamo Tony.”

“Buongiorno, Tony,” Bruno Santini said, bowing slightly.  “Mi chiamo Bruno Santini e la mia esposa, Lucia.”

The woman put her hands on the boy’s shoulders and said, “Chiamami, ‘mama’, Tony.”  She gathered him in a hug.

“Mama,” Tony whispered.  “Mama.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Ben placed his hand on his son’s large shoulder. 

“Do you think he’s okay, Pa?”

“Son, I remember how you fell in love with Marie mighty fast.   

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Hoss said smiling a wide crooked grin. 

“A boy that young needs a ma and a pa,” Ben said. 

Tony broke away from the Santini’s and walked slowly to face Hoss.  “Mister Hoss, they want me to go with ‘em.  They’re real nice and they say they need a boy like me.  Can I?”

“Yeah, son, I think you should.” Affectionately he mussed Tony’s hair. “You be a good boy and mind them.  I’ll come to see you soon.  Tell yer ma I like spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Lotsa meatballs!” Tony said as he ran back to join his new family.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Mista Hoss not feel well?”  Hop Sing asked after noticing that the platter of roast beef was not empty.

Hoss patted his stomach and said, “I’m feelin’ jest fine, Hop Sing.  It was mighty tasty, but I’m full up to my ears.”

Joe laughed.  “When were you ever full on two helpings?”

“Not too full for dessert?” Hop Sing asked.  “I make apple pie for you.”

Hoss smiled and held out his thumb and forefinger just an inch apart.  “Just a taste, Hop Sing.  I really am full.”

“Now I know yer sick,” Joe said. 

“I’m not sick.  I feel fine.”  Hoss answered.  “It’s jest I promised Bridget I’d wear one of them fancy new suits I brung back from New York for the wedding.”

“So yer, lovesick!” Joe countered laughing.  “You miss her.”

Ben smiled at Joe’s gentle teasing.  He watched Hoss blush in response.  He’d had Adam’s assurances that Bridget and Hoss were well suited for each other and deeply in love.  It did his heart good to know that his gentle giant of a son had found someone who loved him as much as he loved her.

“Yeah, I miss her,” Hoss replied.  “Jest wait ‘til ya meet her.  You’ll see why I wanna make her happy.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A week later Hoss was in town to pick up his mail and the trunk he had sent by freight.  There were six letters waiting for him, one in Adam’s familiar hand, one in Amy’s childish scrawl and four from Bridget. 

“You’re very popular these days, Hoss,” Ed Colby said. 

“I guess I am, Ed.”

“A little bird told me there’s a wedding planned at the Ponderosa,” Vera Colby said. 

“Little bird is right,” Hoss replied.

Vera stood on her tiptoes and kissed Hoss’s cheek.   “That’s grand news, Hoss.”

“Funny that you had to go all the way to New York to find your bride,” Ed teased. “I guess Little Joe has a monopoly on the girls here.”

“That’s right, Ed.”  Hoss tipped his hat and made his way to the Wells Fargo office to pick up the trunks.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hoss! Hold on a minute, will ya?"

Hoss pushed a trunk to the front of the wagon bed and turned to greet Sheriff Coffee. He tipped his hat and smiled warmly at his father's oldest friend. "Hey Roy, it's good to see ya."

"Congratulations, son," Roy said as they shook hands. "I remember how lucky I felt when I found my Mary. My life changed for the better from that day 'til the day she died. I hope yours will, too."

"Thanks, Roy."

"Say, I got some questions for ya, Hoss. I got some mail all the way from New York from yer brother and Frank Fuller. Mighty interestin' mail."

Hoss nodded and spoke softly. "Best we speak about that in private, Roy."

"I reckon yer right, Hoss. Maybe I'll ride out to see ya on Sunday."

"And stay fer supper?" Hoss teased.

"Well, I can't rightly turn down one of Hop Sing's meals."

"Then we'll expect ya for supper. But Roy, we can't talk about the mining business with Pa and Joe. Me and Adam want to keep them out of it as long as we can."

"Then I'll meet ya up at the lake 'round two o'clock? We can do some fishin' and talkin', jest the two of us."

Hoss nodded and lifted a second trunk into the wagon. A third trunk sat on the boardwalk. It was addressed to Antonio Lucca in care of the Ponderosa.

"Who's this Lucca fella, Hoss?"

"That's the orphan boy I brung with me from New York."

"I heard about that," Roy mused. "He went to live with the Santini's, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Hoss said softly.

Roy put his hand on Hoss's shoulder. "It was real nice of ya to do that, son. They're awful good people, hard workin' people. But Bruno and Lucy ain't been right since their little boy died. Ya did a lot to heal up that big hole in their hearts when you brung 'em that boy."

"I tell ya, Roy. I miss the little fella. Bridget and me want a family. We want lotsa kids."

"It'd make your pa mighty happy if that happens, son. There's plenty of room on the Ponderosa for a whole passel of children. Say, you ain't taken' this trunk with ya, are ya?" Roy asked pointing to Tony's trunk. "I jest seen Bruno in the bank, all dressed up in a suit and tie."

Hoss loaded the trunk and tipped his hat to Roy. "Thanks, I'll try and catch him."
xxxxxxxxxx

"Oh, Mister Hoss, it is good to see you," Bruno said as he pumped Hoss's hand. "We're so happy, my Lucia and Tony and me."

"That's good to hear, Bruno. He's a good little guy, jest fell on hard times."

"He helps plenty….. and smart!"

Hoss beamed. "Whatcha doin' at the bank?"

"My Lucia and me, we think we best move to town. Tony needs to go to school. He needs children to play with. We think we want to open a restaurant."

"Well, the men at the timber camp will miss your cookin' but that's a good idea."

"Mister Weims, he's not so sure."

"Jest you wait 'til ole Mr. Weims tries Lucy's spaghetti and meatballs."

"I'm not so sure, Mr. Hoss."

"Well dang it, Bruno, I'll give ya a loan. Ya can pay me back in lunches and dinners. I reckon I'll come out way ahead," Hoss said rubbing his belly.

"Maybe you're right, Mr. Hoss," Bruno said laughing. "Maybe I go back to Mr. Weims. He won't eat me out of house and home."

"Say Bruno, I got a trunk that came this week with clothes and such for Tony. Wanna take it back to the camp?"

"Sure. Grazie, Mr. Hoss."

"Ya give my best to Lucy and Tony."
xxxxxxxxxxxx

As he drove on to the Ponderosa, Hoss stopped at a small grove of trees. He had waited long enough to read the letters from Bridget. He resisted the temptation to read the latest one first and sorted them in order. He sat in the cool shade and read her chatty letters, filled with stories about Adam's family and her preparations to come west. The language was simple and honest. There were no airs. He closed his eyes and pictured her at the kitchen table at the end of the day, a long strand of her dark hair escaping her bun, her brow wrinkled in concentration, writing the letter he held in his hands. He sighed when he read the closing words, "With all my love, Until we are together again, your loving wife, Bridget." He held it close to his face, smelling the faint fragrance of the lavender soap she favored. He kissed the letter and carefully folded it, returning it to the envelope, and put it in the jacket pocket nearest his heart.

He pulled out Adam’s letter to read next.

New York, March 10, 1867
Dear Hoss,

I won’t pretend that you have not been missed here, from Bridget, obviously, to Sara who is hounding me to make the morning coffee as you did, to Amy who insists that I am no match for you in a game of checkers, to Jacob who leans back and rubs his belly in a perfect imitation of you, to me, who misses your warm and brotherly counsel. I look to you to ground me when I am too “high falutin’” for my own good.

Bridget has settled into your room. She and Sara are busy with planning her move to the Ponderosa and the wedding. I have been working on the plans for your house as you requested. Bridget made some changes that I admit improved the plan. She wants the kitchen enlarged and would like a small back porch leading to a vegetable garden. She insists that you should have a study like mine.

I am interviewing students for the summer program. I have the dean's approval to select two students. You met Peter Mills in my office. His father has a coal mining operation in Pennsylvania. He is a natural choice for the summer. There is one student that, I can hear you say, is a bit of a “dandy”. I’m not sure that he’ll like to having his white fine shirts dirtied but he is smart as a whip.

Sam gave his lecture about the Sandwich Islands at Cooper Union last night. The audience was lively and laughed freely. He was quite pleased. In fact, over drinks afterward, he told us that for the length of the lecture, he was “in Paradise.” He and Frank are planning a lecture tour up and down the east coast.

The district attorney and the police are pursuing the case on this end. Fuller is acting as a go-between for the New York and Nevada investigations. He has written to Jonah Crum and Roy. He sent me copies of the letters. I caution you to keep silent about your knowledge of the case unless you are in the most secure of places. There is no reason for you to actively cooperate in the inquiry at this time. When I get to Virginia City, we will work together. I only ask that you keep your eyes and ears open for now.

I hope that all is well with Tony and that the Santini’s have accepted him.

Give my love to Pa and Joe.
Your affectionate brother,
Adam

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

While Jacob napped, Sara and Bridget worked in the sewing room stitching and embroidering pillowcases, sheets and other linens for Bridget’s trousseau.

“We’ll just have to order you a Singer machine,” Sara commented.  “I don’t know how we could manage all of this without one.” 

Bridget nodded.  “It does make things easier.  I was never patient with sewing.”

“You’ll need at least three sets of linens.  Hoss won’t ever notice, but it is nice to have clean sheets every week,” Sara said as she knotted and snipped a thread.  “This weekend we’ll ask Adam to watch the children and we’ll go shopping for fine cloth and lace and trimmings for nightgowns and robes.”

“But I have nightdresses that are just fine.”

“Oh Bridget, I want you to look your very best.  The mercantile and dressmakers in Virginia City have the basics, but real Irish lace and Swiss muslin is not to be had there.  We’ll buy some silk chemises, pantalets, corsets, crinolines and definitely a silk nightgown.”  Sara sighed.  “Now if Hoss is anything like Adam, he will appreciate those.”

Bridget wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Can’t cry and sew at the same time.”

“Oh sweetie, you are a sister now.”

“Do you think I’ll fit in all right?”

“Of course you will, Hoss will see to that.”

“It’s just, well, it’ll be so different,” she said haltingly. “And Mr. Cartwright, I’m scared of what he’ll think of me.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s had practice with having a daughter-in-law.,,,though I admit I was pretty apprehensive when I first traveled out west.”

“You were?”

“Sure. Adam can be daunting enough sometimes, I was nervous about his father. He is an impressive man with a deep resonant voice. He looks stern but he has a big heart and a genuine appreciation of women,” Sara said and paused a moment. “But I'll tell you a secret, Bridget, he gets all marshmallowy inside when it comes to Amy and Jacob. This imposing man is at his happiest cuddling a child in his lap and singing nonsense songs.”

“And Joe? I hear that he teases something fierce.”

“Well yes, he can be rascally but he’s never mean. He only teases those he loves. And he loves his family best.”

“But, it’s all so masculine there,” Bridget sighed. “Even the housekeeper is a man.”

“There’s no doubt that Ponderosa can do with a gentling woman’s touch, Bridget, and we’ll do that together this summer.” Sara patted her sister-in-law on the shoulder. “Now, let’s look at these patterns for nightdresses. I think it’s always nice to have a crepe de chine gown. Silk feels so luxurious and drapes well. See, we can get some oyster colored cloth and pink silk ribbon to tie it closed at the neck,” she said as she showed Bridget the illustration from Godey’s.

Bridget frowned at the high neckline.

“Of course, we can alter the neckline a bit and continue the lacing lower.”

Bridget raised her eyebrow.

Sara smiled slyly and they both laughed.

“Sara, when you’re in bed….well, does Adam always start…you know.”

“No! Sometimes I let him think he does. I let my hair fall loose and wear a silky gown, or I’ll give him backrub,” she grinned. “Thank heavens for sore backs!”

At that moment a hungry Jacob let out a scream from the nursery and Sara left to tend to him. Bridget finished a pillowcase hem, then knotted the thread and snipped it. The clock struck three and she needed to go fetch Amy from school.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bleary-eyed after reading his students’ chicken scratches in their blue essay books, Adam yawned as he settled back into the pillows.  He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting drifting off into sleep, while he waited for Sara to come to bed.

Sara rose from the steamy rose-scented bathwater and toweled herself dry.  She put on the silk nightdress Adam had given her for Christmas and left the lacing undone. Damp wispy curls strayed from her pinned hair.  She examined herself in the mirror and smiled as she removed the pins remembering her conversation with Bridget.  Her hair cascaded in soft waves down her back. 

Adam was on his side softly snoring when she climbed into bed. She dimmed the gaslight and kissed him on the forehead, brushing away an errant curl.  Then she lay on her back against the pillows.  Not fully awake, he mumbled a good night and wrapped his leg around her.

“Sweetheart,” she said softly.  “Adam, you’ve got me pinned down.”

“Huh?”

“Move your leg.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said. 

Resigned that he was too sleepy for her attentions, she turned on her side and nestled closer to him. He breathed in the lingering scent of roses and kissed her behind the ear.  The soft silk felt good against his bare chest.  He put his hand at her waist and sighed.  She took his hand and moved it up to the opened lacings of her nightdress.  He slipped his hand in and caressed her breast.  He was waking up to her advances and smiled.  He propped himself up on one elbow and whispered in her ear, “Do we need the French letters?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hoss waited for Joe to leave the ranch Sunday morning before he mentioned his plans to his father.

“Maybe I’ll join you, son, it’s been a long while since we’ve gone fishing.”

“Now Pa, face it, ya never really liked fishin’, besides Roy and me need to talk.”

“Hoss?”

“Oh ya know Roy, Pa.  He wants to give me some friendly advice.  He’ll talk about his wife, Mary, and I’ll talk about Bridget.  Besides, he’s comin’ to dinner.”

Ben smiled and nodded.

Roy was baiting his hook when Hoss rode in; he lifted a string of trout to show his friend. “They’re sure bitin’ today!”

Hoss stepped down from the saddle and hobbled his horse.  “They look mighty good, Roy.  Maybe we’ll have a fish fry tonight.” 

The two friends sat in the warm late morning sun and fished in companionable silence.  They added trout to the string until there were a dozen fish.  They put the string back in the water to keep them cool. 

“Not even you can eat all them fish, Hoss.  We should quit.”

Hoss patted his stomach and nodded.  “I ‘spose yer right, Roy.  Say, Hop Sing made us some lunch.  Want some?”

“Sure.  Let’s go in the shade.”

They ate the chicken and biscuits Hop Sing had packed while Hoss filled Roy in on the Silvercrest Mining situation.

“Well, Hoss, the law says ya gotta work a claim at least one day a month.  So I rode up there to see if’n anyone was around.  I found their sign but there ain’t been much work done up there.  Jonah told me jest to keep an eye on the site.”

“Yep, we’re ‘sposed to lay low and be quiet about it fer now,” Hoss answered.  “Ya ever seen that Bat Thomas man?”

“Not that I can swear to.  Adam wrote that Sam Clemens says he’s a real dandy, silk suits and gold watch and fob, has a real penchant fer champagne.  I guess I won’t mistake him fer a regular miner when he shows up in town.”

Hoss roared.  “No, I guess not Roy. Not if he orders champagne at the Bucket of Blood.”

“Ya gonna have some of that pie, Hoss?”

“You go ahead, Roy, I’ll have this apple.”

“Hoss Cartwright, yer sayin’ no to Hop Sing’s pie?”

“Dagnabbit, I promised Bridget I’d wear my new suit for the wedding.  I’m like to starve to death before she gets here.”  He frowned and rubbed his belly.

“What a man’ll do for love, Hoss,” he said shaking his head. “What we do for love.  Ya got a picture of her?”

Hoss pulled out his wallet and showed Roy the carte de visite from the Brady studio in New York.  The couple sat side by side in the photograph. Bridget hinted at a smile.  Hoss looked uncharacteristically still and somber.  He was dressed in a dark formal suit and he was holding his breath so it would fit.

“She’s mighty pretty, Hoss.  That the suit?”  Hoss nodded in reply.  “Well, she’s worth bein’ hungry for, you’ll see.” 

“I know,” Hoss thought remembering his wedding night.  “I surely know.  Two more months.”

xxxxxxxxxx

"Ya shoulda seen him, Hoss. Big man, bigger'n you. Flame red hair and bushy side-whiskers, shiny silk suit, velvet vest, and one of them big stovepipe hats. And he walks up to the bar and orders a champagne cocktail." Joe broke into a fit of laughter with the mention of the sugary, ladies' drink. "I tell ya, ya coulda knocked Roscoe over with a feather."

Hoss looked at Roy, who nodded slightly.

"So, the man says 'Nevermind, just bring me a bottle of your best champagne.' Roscoe sends over to the International for a bottle."

"Ya catch this fella's name, Joe?"

"Brett? Bart?" Joe clicked his fingers. "Bat! Bat Thomas."

"Strange name," Ben said.

"Strange man, Pa, but a what a card sharp! He was ahead a thousand dollars when I left. Easy."

"And how much of that money was yours, Joseph?"

"None of it, Pa."

Ben arched his eye in disbelief.

"Really, Pa. I wouldn't go near that table. Any man who orders a bottle of champagne at the Bucket of Blood better be great at poker to sit down with the regulars or they'd eat him alive."

"You're probably right, son."

"He say how long he is stayin', Joe," Roy asked. "Might be somebody I should watch out fer."

"Said he had a little mining venture he needed to tend to."

Roy nodded.

"He's not gonna be too popular with the men in the saloons with the girls all hanging around that poker table. And he was handing out gold pieces when they poured his champagne."

"Any gal is particular?"

"Lily. He had her in his lap when I left."

"Yep, I smell some trouble brewin'," Roy said.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night before he turned down the lamp, Hoss retrieved the photograph from the drawer in his bed table. This picture he had not shared with anyone. Like the carte de visit that he carried in his wallet, this photograph was taken at the Brady studio in New York. But instead of the 'engagement picture', in this one Bridget wore a veil and carried her wedding bouquet.

"Good night, darlin'. I miss you so much."

He placed the photograph under the lining paper where no one would see it and went to bed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On his early morning rounds Roy spied Lily leaving the International House by the back door.

"Mornin', Lily."

"Oh, Sheriff Coffee, ya scared me."

"Early mornin' or late night?" Roy asked as he looked at her disheveled hair and torn dress.

"What a night! I got one heck of a champagne headache this mornin' but it was worth it. That fancy man, Bat Thomas, gave me a hundred dollar tip!"

"Whew!"

"He wants to take me up to his mine. Promised me five hundred dollars to bring champagne and a picnic lunch. Sheriff, with that much cash I could finally leave this town and go to San Francisco."

"You be careful, Lily. Somethin' about that man surely bothers me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sun was bright and Sheriff Coffee stood for a few moments at the swinging doors to the Bucket of Blood waiting for his eyes to adjust. 

“What can I do fer ya?” Roscoe asked.

“Lookin’ for Lily,” Roy answered.

“Yer not the only one.  Took off two days ago to go on some picnic with that fancy man, Bat Thomas, and ain’t been back.”

“I take it that he ain’t been back either.”

“Nope.  Hank got a telegram to pick up the wagon he rented at Carson City.”

“Thanks, Roscoe.”

From the saloon, Roy headed to the International House where he discovered that Thomas had wired his payment in full. He paid for the storage of his belongings and planned to return in early June.

Roy rode out to the Silvercrest Mine but the rain the previous evening washed away any evidence of footprints and wagon tracks.   The opening was sealed.  Roy shook his head in disgust.  He rode back to town to talk to Jonah Crum.  A search warrant based on a suspicion about a missing saloon girl would not be easy to have issued.

“Darn fool girl.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Hoss, I ain’t seen ya in more than a month,” Roy said as Hoss carried a large sack of flour to add to the other supplies in the wagon.

“Been roundin’ up the herd and bringing ‘em down to the low pastures.  We were mighty lucky this year, lost a dozen steers.  Plenty of calves to make up for that and then some.”  Hoss removed his coat and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his face. 

“Still on short rations, I see.”

“Hard to eat regular meals when you’re doin’ a roundup, then calvin’ and brandin’.”

“Ya look good, Hoss.  That gal of yours sure must be somethin’ fer ya to go hungry.”

“She is, Roy.  I miss her somethin’ terrible.  I got eight letters today.”

“That reminds me, Hoss.  Jonah got a telegram from Adam last week.  Bat Thomas is in New York, staying at that fancy Astor Hotel.  That Fuller fella and Sam Clemens seen him at dinner one night.  Fuller let the detectives know.” 

“What’s he doin’ in New York?”

“Collectin’ his stock money, I reckon. I ‘spect they got him on a short leash right now.”

“Hope they get enough on him to hang ‘im by that leash.”

“Prob’bly. 

“”Say, Roy, ya fancy an Eye-talian meal?  Bruno saw me earlier and told me to come by the new restaurant.”

“They have steak?”

“Prob’bly. I jest know I’m powerful hungry right now.  Join me?”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For the next two weeks trunks and crates were delivered to the Ponderosa.  Joe rode in to find yet another oversized trunk on the porch.

“You’d think we don’t have stores out here the way those women are shopping,” Joe complained as he and his father dragged the trunk into the house.  They’d wait for Hoss to open it before deciding where to store it.

“Now Joe,” his father cautioned, “I think we can stand to make some concessions to the ladies in our family.”

“Concessions?  They’re gonna make this house over into a ladies emporium.  I jest know we’re gonna have dollies and lace curtains in here.”

“Have you considered that Bridget and Hoss are going to build a house of their own?  The doilies may be for their house,” Ben said with a sly smile.

“I can jest see Hoss sittin’ on a settee with doilies, drinkin’ milky tea. That’s a laugh.  Next you’ll say she’ll teach ‘im to hold his pinky out jest so,” Joe teased holding his hand out to demonstrate.

“Your brother doesn’t acquiesce so easily.”

“Oh yeah, Pa?  When did ya ever know big old Hoss Cartwright to stay on a diet?”

“Well, you’re right about that, Joseph.  He certainly has been diligent.  He looks good.  I’m sure that Bridget will be pleased.”

“I know that Chubb sure is!”

 Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

That evening Hoss opened the trunk to find silk nightdresses and underclothes.  He held up one of the nightdresses and rubbed the silk between two fingers.  He had never felt anything as soft and luxurious as that.  He looked up to see his father gazing at him.

“We’ll put that trunk in Adam’s old room.  Hop Sing is preparing it for Bridget.”

“There’s no need fer that.  We’ll put it in my room.”

Ben’s raised his eyebrow in disapproval.

“Pa, there’s somethin’ I ain’t told ya yet that maybe I should.”

Joe looked up from the newspaper. He wriggled into a more erect position sensing whatever Hoss had to say was going to get a rise out of his father.

“Well, Pa, it’s jest before I left New York….well, Bridget and me, we love each other so much.  I jest wanted.”  Hoss paused to find his words.  His father sat fuming at what he thought Hoss might say.  Hoss looked at his father and was stunned.  He blurted out, “We got married before I left New York.”

“Didn’t ya trust her to come out here?” Joe asked.

“Course I did,” Hoss said.  “We got married ‘cause we love each other.”

“And your brother?”

“He was the best man.”

“You all can really keep a secret,” Ben said and sighed in relief.

“I got somethin’ to show ya.”  He went upstairs and returned with the photographs of the wedding party. 

“Ya look a little scared in this one, Hoss,” Joe teased.  “Must have been before the wedding night.”

“Enough, Joseph.  Go get a bottle of champagne from the cellar.  We’ve got a toast to make that’s long overdue.”

While Joe retrieved the bottle, Ben put his arm around Hoss’s shoulders and squeezed them. “Congratulations, son.  I’m happy for you, though I may have a word or two to say to your brother Adam.”

“Glad that’s over with,” Hoss said.  “Two more weeks, Pa.  I can hardly wait.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Epilogue

Hoss sat finishing his lunch in the Santini’s new restaurant facing the Wells Fargo stagecoach office.   Adam had wired from Carson City that they were due in on the afternoon stage.  Pushing his plate away, Hoss had other things on his mind. Three months had passed since he last saw Bridget.  He wondered whether she would like living out west and would his father approve of her.  But most of all, he worried whether she would still love him.  After all they were together for a shorter time than they’d been apart. 

“Ya done, Mr. Hoss?  We got lots more in the kitchen,” Tony asked.

“It sure was delicious, son, but I’m done.”   His red checkered napkin had been tucked into the open neck of his clean white shirt.  He removed it and wiped his mouth.  “What’s that called again?”

“Lasagna, and Mama makes the best there is.”

Hoss grinned widely.  It had been three months since Tony left New York and came west with Hoss to meet Bruno and Lucia Santini. Now the orphaned boy was calling Lucia, ‘Mama’.  The boy had adjusted well to his new family and had even started to attend school for the first time. 

“I bet she does.”

Lucia walked out from the kitchen to greet Hoss.  He stood and kissed her on the cheek.  “Buongiorno, Lucy.”

“Buongiorno, Mr. Hoss,” She said as she looked at the empty plate. “What is wrong with you?  Just one ‘little’ helping of my lasagna?”

Hoss sighed and rubbed his slimmer torso.  Back in New York Bridget had gently teased him about the size of his belly. For the three months he endured everyone’s nagging about his appetite and diet. It was worth it.  He was twenty pounds lighter. This morning he tried on his white silk shirt and it billowed at his waist.  He adjusted the vest to a tighter fit.   He buttoned the coat and admired himself in the mirror. It fit perfectly.  He knew Bridget would be pleased. 

“I’m gettin’ married, Lucy.  Gotta look good in my suit fer the weddin’.”

“The girl that you marry, Mr. Hoss, is a lucky girl. You look mighty handsome,” Lucy said as she grabbed him in a hug.  Hoss blushed.  “Mind you, don’t get too skinny. It don’t suit you.  Big men like you need meat on your bones.  Don’t get skinny like your brother Joe.” 

“When’s Bridget gettin’ here?” Tony asked.

“As a matter of fact,” he said as he looked at the clock on the mantle in the dining room, “they’re due in anytime now.”

“They’ll be hungry.  Bring them over here before you leave town.”

“I’ll do that, Lucy.”  He tipped his hat as he left to wait for the stage on the bench across the street.  Tony hung his apron in the kitchen and soon joined Hoss.

“Is Amy comin’ today?”

“She is.  Adam, Sara and Jacob, too.  Do ya miss her?”

“I wanna show her how I can ride that pony of mine.  Maybe we can race.”

“Adam might have somethin’ to say about that, Tony.  Sara might not want her little girl to race.”  Hoss put his big hand on Tony’s shoulder.  Three months, and the little newsboy from New York City could ride a pony with the ranchers’ sons in his school.  Hoss promised to teach him how to rope a calf this summer. 

Tony spotted the stagecoach first. Hoss stood to watch the driver rein the horses and stop the stagecoach at his feet.  He took a deep breath and smiled as he let it out slowly.  The door opened and Bridget stood ready to step down.

“Oh lordy, darlin’, you look so good to me,” Hoss said as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into his arms.  He spun her around.  She threw her head back laughing in delight.  “I can’t tell ya how much I missed ya.”

He put her down and gathered her in his arms to kiss her.  They were in their own world, time stood still and no witnesses were there to see them.  Three months of separation were erased in a moment’s time. 

She leaned back and took a deep breath to calm herself.   She pulled him closer to her and wrapped her arms around his waist.  “Oh Hoss Cartwright, this is where I belong.  Let me look at you.  You’re a mighty fine sight for sore eyes, you great big handsome man.”

 

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