Silver Lining

 

Hoss marries Bridget in Virginia City and Adam places his life in jeopardy to expose a mining fraud case.   Picks up where the story, Harmony: Winter into Spring, ended.  

 

Hoss stood on the boardwalk watching the driver rein in the horses and stop the stagecoach at the hitching post near at his feet.  He took a deep breath in anticipation. A smile lit up his face as he exhaled 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, Bridget.”

 

He put her down on the boardwalk and gathered her in his arms to kiss her.  For a few moments they were in their own world where time stood still and no witnesses were there to see them.  Three months of separation and a distance of nearly three thousand miles were erased in a trice.

 

She leaned back and took a long look at the big rancher.   She pulled him closer to her and wrapped her arms around his waist.  “Hoss Cartwright, I have traveled halfway ‘round the world to find you.  I know that this is where I belong.  Let me look at you.  You’re a mighty fine sight for sore eyes.”

 

Next to alight from the stagecoach was a tall, thin young man with Byronic good looks.  He had a high forehead and wavy, dark blond hair that spilled down over his brow.   He pushed it back artlessly and donned his hat.  He’d purchased the Stetson in New York.  It was his only concession to his present surroundings.  His gray light wool suit and white silk shirt were more appropriate for his father’s brokerage house on Wall Street.  He cut a handsome figure and no doubt his presence would soon be noted by the women in Virginia City.  His manners were as elegant as his appearance and he held his hand out to Sara to help her down.

 

“May I assist you, Mrs. Cartwright?”

 

“Thank you, Stuart.”  Sara carefully stepped down with a sleepy Jacob in her arms.

 

“And may I help you as well, Amy?”  He lifted her from the stage and set her down on the boardwalk.  Amy smiled admiringly.  Stuart Langdon made her feel grown up. She had a school girl’s crush on him which he accepted graciously.

 

Adam jumped down and greeted his brother with a hearty slap on the back.  “Feels good to be back, Hoss.  Did Pa come?”

 

Hoss beamed, squeezing Bridget closer to him.  “Nope. No room for him in the wagon this trip with your family and all that luggage.”

 

The last to leave the stagecoach was a short and scrappy young man with an easy smile.  Peter Mills was as rough and ready as Stuart was polished and graceful.  His shirt was rumpled and dirty from the long dusty ride. He squinted against the bright sunlight, wiped his forehead with a kerchief, and placed a short rimmed straw hat on his head.  He called up to the driver who was sorting the luggage.

 

“Start tossing them down, Jake.”

 

“Thanks, Peter.”

 

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Across the street, Lucy Santini wiped her hands on her apron and watched the family reunion from the large window at the front of the restaurant.  She grinned at Hoss’s enthusiastic reunion with his fiancé.  Bridget was tall and pretty.  She partnered well with the rugged rancher.  It was obvious that it was a love match.  She was glad.  The big-hearted rancher deserved a happy marriage and, God willing, they’d have children.  She quickly crossed herself. 

 

Lucy’s newly adopted son Tony was in the thick of the reunion.  Adam ruffled his hair affectionately and Sara hugged him.  He was shyest with Amy.  She’d been the closest he had ever had as a sister when he was in New York, but at eight years old, Tony couldn’t betray his fondness for a girl.  At least not in public.

 

She walked out to greet the Cartwrights, insisting that the ladies would certainly like a cold drink and a chance to “freshen up” before heading to the ranch.  Sara nodded in welcome relief. She took Amy’s hand and followed Lucy to the Satini’s restaurant.

 

“Are you coming Bridget?  It’ll feel good to wash our faces,” Sara called out.  Hoss joined them refusing to leave Bridget so soon.  Sara looked over her shoulder to see Adam shaking his head.  “We won’t be long.  You can take care of the luggage don’t want to join us.”  She smiled sweetly, knowing Adam would welcome a cold drink to slake his thirst but not in such a genteel setting.

 

“Yes, dear.”

 

Adam’s students, Stuart and Peter, stood to the side amused by their professor’s meek acquiescence.  They made quick work of loading the wagon.  Soon they were left standing on the boardwalk with their valises at their feet. 

 

“Let me quickly speak with my wife and I’ll take you to the Deisdenheimer’s house.”  He noted the looks of apprehension on their faces and added.  “Maybe we should have a quick cold beer before we go.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

They had some liquid courage at the Bucket of Blood before Adam escorted his students, Peter Mills and Stuart Langdon, to Philip Deisdesheimer’s home. They would board there for the summer.  Philip cornered Adam in his study while Matilda showed the young men the upstairs bedroom they would share.

 

“Those young men are as different as night and day,”  Deisdesheimer noted.

 

“They’re an odd couple, for sure,” Adam answered. “Peter could charm the devil himself and Stuart is quietly reserved.  Stuart’s mind is like a sharp shooter’s, concentrated and direct.  Peter’s aim is more like a shotgun, but he has lots of hits near the center. You’ll soon see that each has a strong suit that complements the other.”

 

“I will start them tomorrow with a tour of the Lucky Star.   Jim has expanded his mine since last year.  He made $1500 a foot in April.”

 

“Whew! I didn’t know he was doing so well.  No wonder there’s interest in Menken’s old mine. Any chance that the Silvercrest Mine is above board, Philip?”

 

He shook his head and explained that his explorations proved the silver vein dipped lower and west in Jim Duffy’s Lucky Star mine.   “I stand by my opinion that the Silvercrest was played out long ago.  Menken was very unlucky.  The vein on his claim is shallow.  It deepens and is richer in the Lucky Star. When are you free to inspect it, Adam?  I know that Sheriff Coffee and Mr. Crum are anxious to get your opinion on record.”

 

“I just got in this afternoon, Philip.  I don’t know the details for Hoss’s wedding yet.  I’ll send word to you in a day or two.”

 

Matilda walked into the room.  “So, the rumor I heard about Hoss at the Founder’s Day committee meeting is true.  He met a girl in New York?”

 

Adam smiled and nodded.  “A very nice and very pretty girl. There will be a party at the Ponderosa.  You’ll meet her then.”

 

“You and Sara will come to dinner soon.  Yes?”

 

“Of course, Matilda,” he said.  He leaned down and kissed the tiny woman’s cheek. “Now, I really must head home.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Riding a livery horse, Adam caught up to his family as they made their way to the ranch.  They were about two miles away from the house.   Bridget rested her head on Hoss’s shoulder.  Amy’s head bobbed against Sara, who held a sleepy Jacob in her lap. 

 

“You putting ‘em to sleep with old stories again, Hoss?”

 

“It’s the sun and the length of the journey, dear,” Sara said defending her brother-in-law. 

 

Amy woke at the sound of her father’s voice and stretched.  “How much longer?”

 

“I tell you what, Amykins, how ‘bout you ride ahead with me?”

 

Hoss stopped the wagon and lifted his niece into the saddle with Adam. “Tell Pa, we’ll be along real soon.”

 

Xxxxxxxx

 

As Hoss turned the horses toward the ranch house, Bridget spied Amy sitting in her grandfather’s lap on the long front porch.  The little girl was enveloped by the big, snowy-haired man’s arms.  His head was tilted back and a deep roar of laughter could be heard from a distance.   Bridget took a deep breath to compose herself.  Maybe Ben Cartwright wouldn’t be so intimidating after all.  She thought that the broad shoulders and wide chest were not unlike his sons’ and the laughter was surely like Hoss’s.  A third man stood on the porch.  He was slighter only in comparison with the others.  His shoulders were strong and his torso narrowed into a slim waist.  His thick brown curls danced as he laughed.  That must be Joe.

 

Hoss reined the horses and stopped near to the house.  Ben grabbed Jacob and handed him to Adam as he helped Sara down.  He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “How are you, my dear?  My, that little boy looks more and more like Adam!  He had those soft black curls at that age.  And he is growing so fast.”

 

“Don’t I know it!  He never walks when he can run.”

 

“Pa, Joe, this here is Bridget,” Hoss said as he introduced her.  He placed his arm around her waist and drew her close to him to give her courage.

 

“Now I know why you got married in New York!” Joe teased.  “You were afraid somebody would steal this pretty gal away from you.” 

 

Bridget blushed and was flustered. She turned to look at Hoss. “Did he say ‘married’?”  

 

“Now, hon, I had to tell ‘em.  I jest couldn’t keep it secret anymore.”

 

“Big lug spilled the beans last week,” Joe said.

 

Ben frowned at Joe.  He stepped in and took Bridget’s hands in his. He graciously greeted her.  “Welcome, my dear.  It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”  He kissed her cheek.  “Don’t be angry with Hoss, Bridget. Seeing you, I understand his enthusiasm.”

 

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That evening, as Bridget soaked away the dust and soothed her aching muscles after two weeks travel by train and stagecoach, she thought back over the day.  It was all a bit daunting to see the ranch for the first time and to meet Joe and her father-in-law.  Of one thing she was sure, to be in Hoss’s strong arms again felt right. 

 

There was a soft knock at the door.

 

“Bridget, hon, you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, Hoss. I just lost track of time. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” 

 

She dried herself and toweled her hair, then used the lavender-scented talc and cream that Sara had left for her. She slipped on the crepe de chine nightdress. Hoss had selected it from the trunk at the foot of their bed, winking as he handed it to her.  She wrapped herself in the matching robe.  The mirror had fogged in the damp heat but she wiped it dry to examine her face.  She was pleased. Her complexion was clear if a little flushed from her bath. Her eyes were bright.  She brushed her hair and left it loose, letting it fall below her waist.

 

Ben was still sitting in the dim light near the fire as she approached the stairs. 

 

“Goodnight, Bridget.”

 

She was startled to hear his deep voice coming out of the shadows.

 

“Oh, you scared me, Mr. Cartwright.”

 

“Didn’t mean to do that, my dear.”  He patted the settee and entreated her, “Sit with me for a moment.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she answered. She sat down beside her imposing father-in-law.

 

“Bridget, I just wanted to make sure that you felt welcome.  I’ve waited a long time for Hoss to find the right girl.  Now that I’ve met you, I can see he has.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Cartwright.”

 

“You really must stop that.”

 

“What sir?”

 

“We must settle on some way for you to address me.  What do you call your father?”

 

“My father died when we were quite young,” she said and hesitated.  “We called him ‘Da’,” she said quietly.  “I’m not sure I could call anyone else that.”

 

Ben put his hand over hers.  “I understand. You might try ‘Ben’.”

 

“No sir, that isn’t right either.  Father?”

 

“Makes me feel like a priest,” he said with a chuckle.  “I answer to ‘Pa’ and ‘Grandpa’ around here. You choose.”

 

“What does Sara call you?”

 

“When she is with the children, she calls me ‘Grandpa’ and the other times she tries hard to avoid calling me by name.”  He smiled warmly and kissed Bridget on the cheek.  “Goodnight, Bridget.”

 

“Goodnight, Pa.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Hoss was in bed relaxing against the pillows when she tiptoed in.  He greeted her with a warm grin.  She was beautiful in the crepe de chine nightdress, her curly black hair falling loose to her waist.  She climbed in next to him and he guided her to straddle his hips.  Her hair fell forward. He finger combed it and arranged it back behind her ear.

 

“Ya look so beautiful tonight, Bridget.  I’ve been waitin’ all day to be alone with you.”

 

She smiled and began to caress his bare chest. “You’ve lost weight.  Your belly is definitely smaller,” she observed as she rubbed it gently. “You said that would happen that once you started working on the ranch.”

 

“Well, I was workin’ hard and I did some pushin’ away from the table early.”

 

“Oh, yes?”

 

“I wanted to wear that dang wedding suit and be able to breathe.  It worked.  The suit fits fine now.”

 

“I like this leaner you.  I can put my arms around you and hug you closer.”  She leaned forward to kiss him.  Her silky nightdress brushed against his chest and goosebumps raised on his skin.  “Just don’t get too skinny, sweetheart.  I like you with meat on your bones.”

 

“Come here, woman,” he said as he gathered her in his arms.  “We gotta make up for the time we been missin’.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“Joe said the trunk came about ten days ago and Hoss opened it in the great room to see where to store it.  He pulled out one of her silk nightdresses.  He sat there in a trance, ‘googly-eyed’ was Joe’s word, rubbing the soft cloth between his fingers.  When Pa said the trunk could go upstairs to my old room, Hoss told them he’d take it to his room.”

 

Sara giggled.  “I should like to have been a fly on the wall for that!”

 

“He quickly told Pa and Joe that he and Bridget were already married.”

 

“It’s just as well.  I don’t think anything could have kept them apart any longer.  When the Cartwright men fall in love, they fall hard.”

 

Adam pinched her and chuckled.  “Is that so?”  

 

She pinched him back and whispered, “Yes, it is so. What are you going to do about it?

 

He tickled her and she rolled onto her back.  “Just like a puppy,” he teased and he covered her face in kisses.  “Can’t keep us apart either.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The next morning Joe came down for breakfast and rolled his eyes at Adam, pointing to Hoss and Bridget’s empty chairs.   “Now ain’t that something?” 

 

Ben looked up from his coffee and raised an eyebrow.

 

“He’s off his feed when they’re apart and now that she’s here, he’s skippin’ breakfast all together. He’s gonna waste away to nuthin’,” Joe said laughing.

 

Adam smirked in reply.

 

“Why is he gonna waste away, Uncle Joe?”

 

“Your Uncle Hoss is lovesick, Amy, and he ain’t been eating. That’s why he’s skinnier.”

 

“Should we get the doctor?”

 

Ben frowned at Joe. 

 

“Somebody sick?”  Hoss asked as he and Bridget walked downstairs. 

 

“No, Hoss.  Joe was just remarking about your new physique.  I think you’re very handsome,” Sara said. 

 

“I do, too,” Bridget beamed and patted Hoss’s middle.

 

He blushed at the attention. He pulled Bridget’s chair out for her and seated her at the table. He sat next to her and placed his napkin in his lap, and addressed Ben. “Say Pa, I gotta take Bridget into town to meet with Father Manogue about the ceremony. I was thinkin’ we’d go this morning.”

 

“That’s fine, son.”

 

“So, it’s to be a Catholic wedding then,” Adam said.

 

“Yep, at St. Mary in the Mountains.”

 

“Marie’s church,” Adam added.

 

“Yeah, I think Ma would have liked that we’re going there.”

 

Adam nodded in agreement.

 

Xxxxxxxxxx

 

Father Patrick Manogue was perfectly suited for the growing Catholic parish in Virginia City.  A huge, gregarious man, he was, at six foot six and over 250 solid pounds, someone only a foolish man would ever think to challenge. And he did not suffer fools lightly. As a young man, he had tried his hand at prospecting for gold before the call of the priesthood.  He understood the rough and tumble nature of mining and life in the West.  Trained at a seminary in Paris, he could carry his own in philosophical arguments with the town’s lawyers and in small talk with eastern educated bankers and their wives. He charmed donations from the most tight-fisted people for a school and a hospital. The big Irishman was beloved by his parishioners and most of the rest of the county as well.

 

Father Manogue heard the buggy pull close to the parish house and he walked out on to the porch to greet Bridget and Hoss.

 

“Mister Cartwright, Miss Reilly,” he said as he extended his large hand to her.  “I hear that we’re both from the old country.  If we put our heads together, I’m sure we’ll find we’re related some how.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Father.  Hoss has told me all about you.  Thank you for your help.”

 

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Reilly.  Mister Cartwright, here, is a lucky man.  Now Hoss, if you would, your fiancé and I have some things to discuss. We’ll be finished in an hour or so and we can all go into the church to make some plans.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxx

 

“Father, before we begin, did Hoss tell you I am not his fiancé?”

 

“I’m confused, Miss Reilly.”

 

“I’m not Miss Reilly,” she said and swallowed hard.  “I’m Bridget Cartwright now.  We got married in New York before Hoss left.  Only it wasn’t in a church.  A judge married us.”

 

“I see.  So this ceremony at St. Mary’s is so you will be married in the eyes of the Church?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“Who else knows?”

 

“Just the family and the witnesses in New York.”

 

The priest winked and pressed a finger to his lips.  “We’ll just keep it that way, shall we?”

 

“Oh yes, Father.  Thank you.”

 

After her consultation, Father Manogue heard Bridget’s confession and they headed to the church to meet Hoss.  It was a pretty brick church, just four years old, replacing the original wooden church that had burned.  The tall steeple stood proudly and could be seen all over town.  Father Manogue made sure that the bell could be heard over the din of the stamping mills on Sunday mornings.

 

The big priest spied Hoss on the steps of the church and bellowed, “Hoss Cartwright!  I want a word with you. You’ve not been honest with me.”

 

It was not often that someone could make Hoss feel small. Father Manogue climbed the steps and slapped Hoss’s back, draping his large arm around Hoss’s shoulders.  The priest leaned in and whispered, “I know that you’re married.”

 

Both Hoss and Bridget blushed scarlet and the priest roared with laughter.  “Come on you two lovebirds, let’s see about putting things right.”

 

Hoss took Bridget’s arm and the entered the church.  It was far grander than Bridget had imagined.  The ceilings were high and the altar reflected the prosperity of the parishioners in Virginia City.  Bridget stopped a moment at the Mary altar in a side apse.  A plaque in loving memory of Marie Cartwright was hanging under the window.  Bridget squeezed Hoss’s hand.

 

“I see you noticed the plaque,” Father Manogue said. “I thought when I met Hoss that I had finally had a face to put with it, but it was not he who donated the money for the altar.”

 

“Who? Your father?”

 

“It was Adam Cartwright just after the old church burned.  There was a check sent from a Captain Cartwright drawn from a bank in Washington. I look forward to meeting him. Now let me show you the main altar.  The banns were read for the first time two weeks ago.  The wedding can take place anytime after the third reading this week.”

 

“Let’s make it the Saturday after that,” Hoss suggested.  “That okay with you, darlin’?”

 

“Sounds fine,” she said.  “Sara and I need to plan the party.”

 

“Then we are set,” the priest said.  “Bridget, I’ll see you on Sunday.”  He tapped Hoss’s chest with his finger.  “And you’ll be beside her.”

 

“Yes, Father,” they answered in unison.

 

The angelus bells began to ring, striking the noon hour. Both Bridget and Father Manogue paused, bowed their heads and began to recite the prayers in Latin. “Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae.” Hoss had heard the bells for years and had mistaken them for a signal for the lunch break.

When the prayers ended, he invited the priest to dine with them.

“Now I make it a policy to never refuse a meal,” Father Manogue said as he patted his belly, protruding under his cassock. “Obviously. But Mrs. Hallett is making lamb stew today and it is my favorite. I’ll not say no to a postponement until Sunday, after Mass, however.”

“Sunday, it is then, Father,” Bridget said. “Is it cherry pie or chocolate cake that I’ll be making?”

“Cherry pie,” the priest replied. “With ice cream," he said with a wink. He held out his hand, his fingers measuring a good inch or more. "A nice big juicy steak to start. I hear that Cartwright beef is the best." He roared with laughter and headed back to the parish house.

“Should we head home, Hoss?”

“No, darlin’,” he answered patting his own stomach. “I’m hungry. Let’s go to the International House and then afterwards we can go to the courthouse to get the license.”

She nodded and took his arm.

They were seated in the window and many times during the meal passersby stopped to wave at Hoss and his fiancé from New York City.

“Do you know all these people?”

“Most of ‘em,” he said between bites of roast chicken. “The Cartwrights ain’t a shy family.” Just then Roy Coffee caught Hoss’s eye. He motioned for Roy to join them. Roy tipped his hat at Bridget and entered the dining room.

“Well, Hoss, this must be your intended.” He took Bridget’s right hand in his and continued, “She sure is as pretty as you said.”

“Bridget, hon, this here is Sheriff Roy Coffee.”

“I’m glad to meet you Sheriff. I’ve heard what a good friend you are to the Cartwrights.”

“Miss Bridget, I have heard a lot about you, too, from Hoss. I'm glad to see that you were worth the wait. He near starved himself pining for you,” Roy said chuckling. “You sure do make a handsome couple.”

“Sit down, Roy, join us.”

“Now Hoss, I’m not gonna interrupt your lunch anymore. But I would like a word with you afterwards, if you don’t mind.”

Bridget squeezed his hand. “I think that I might visit the millinery. Your father suggested that with my fair skin and freckles I might need a straw hat and maybe a sun bonnet.”

“I’ll take Bridget to Belle Whalen’s shop and come by right after.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Roy waited for Hoss outside his office. As he approached, Roy suggested they meet in an office across the street at the courthouse. 

 

“Something’s up with the Silvercrest, ain’t it?  Shouldn’t Adam be here?”

 

“Let’s talk in Jonah’s office, Hoss.”

 

Jonah Crum was appointed by the governor three years ago as the state’s attorney in Storey County.  He was a self-made man with steely determination.  Not formally schooled, he read law with a county judge while he taught high school back in his home state of Illinois.  He had two decades of professional experience as a circuit lawyer, first in Illinois and then in his adopted state of Nevada.  

 

Small in stature but stately in his manner, he favored frock coats and tall hats as was the custom of the circuit lawyers in Illinois.  “If it was good enough for Mr. Lincoln, it is good enough for me.”  A fair man, he argued vigorously and persuasively winning more cases than he lost.

 

“Come in, gentlemen,” Crum greeted them.  “I’ve had a wire from New York.  The police are still investigating the sale of the Silvercrest Mining stocks.  As you know, Bat Thomas was spotted there in late April.  But it appears that he left quickly and is headed back here.”

 

“That doesn’t give us much time to investigate,” Roy said. 

 

Jonah nodded.  “There’s been some activity on this end as well.  The mine engineer, Captain Morris, is back in town.   He’s at Widow Hawkins’ boarding house.”

 

“That’s good news for us,” Hoss said grinning.  “If’n he says anything interestin’, it’ll be easy to find out.   We jest tell her Pa’s interested in the mine.  She’ll tell us what’s doin’.”

 

“Maybe,” Jonah said, “but I’d rather not involve her. They’re gearing up for something.   I saw Thomas McCray filing paperwork in the clerk’s office this morning.  It may be that Thomas wants to challenge Duffy’s claim.”

 

“He’s that fella from California, ain’t he?  The big shot lawyer that the railroads used.”  Jonah nodded. “This jest gets curiouser and curiouser, don’t it?” Hoss said under his breath.

 

“When’s Adam due to come to town?” Roy asked.

 

“Don’t know.   I know Mr. Deidesheimer is showin’ them students of his around for a couple of days.  Friday’s my guess.”

 

“That’s fine.  I’m in court for a few days anyway.  Ask him to stop by around noon if he can.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

With Hoss in town, Adam volunteered to work with Ben and Joe branding the calves.  It was backbreaking work.  Smelly, dirty, grueling work. One of his least favorite, but necessary, jobs on the ranch.  But after two weeks of enforced idleness on trains and stagecoaches, Adam was grateful to be active and outdoors.

 

Amy fell into her ranch routine, feeding the chickens and weeding the vegetable garden.   She made quick work of it to spend time grooming her pony and playing with the barn kittens.

 

Sara put Jacob down for a nap and gathered their dirty traveling clothes.  She shook the dust from the clothes and sorted them.  Hop Sing had tubs of steaming water ready near the pump outside.  Pails of cold water were there for rinsing. 

 

She washed a mountain of shirts and blouses, underclothes and diapers.  Her face was flushed with the effort but she was pleased at the thought of clean clothes.  Hop Sing had strung rope between posts for drying and bleaching the clothes in the sun. 

 

“I go start lunch,” Hop Sing said as he excused himself.  He was embarrassed as Sara hung her underclothes. 

 

“Of course, thank you, Hop Sing.”

 

Jacob was crying for Sara when Hop Sing entered the ranch house.  He lifted the boy from his crib as Jacob wailed, “Mama!”

 

“Shh.  Shh.  Hop Sing here to help you.”

 

He grabbed a diaper and made quick work of changing Jacob.  Then he carried the boy to the kitchen and settled him in his high chair.   Jacob was flushed and sweaty from crying.  Hop Sing caressed his head for a moment.

 

“Shh.  Shh.  I bring you milk.”

 

He helped Jacob drink the milk from a tin cup and walked to the counter.  Jacob’s eyes widened as he watched Hop Sing lift the lid to the cookie jar.

 

“Coookie!”

 

“Yes.  Hop Sing bring little boy cookie.”

 

“Hop.  Hop.  Hop,” Jacob chanted holding his hands out for the cookie.

 

“Yes.  Hop Sing give you cookie,” he said smiling wide.

 

Sara stood in the doorway grinning and shaking her head. 

 

“You’re spoiling him, you know.  I guess we’ll have to add ‘Hop’ to the list of words he knows.  Joe will be jealous.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Ben and his sons stripped off their shirts to wash up before entering the house after a long day’s work.  Hoss emerged from the house and teased them.

 

“Whew!  Y’all sure stink of cattle and not very clean cattle at that.   Good thing the gals are inside.”

 

Joe lathered his hair and rinsed it under the pump.  His lean upper body was nut brown from working hours shirtless in the sun.  He looked over at Adam’s pasty white torso and sunburned shoulders and neck.  

 

“That’s gonna hurt tonight.”

 

Adam shrugged his sore shoulders.

 

“You’re gettin’ kinda soft in the belly, big brother,” Joe teased as he tapped Adam’s stomach.  “Sitting behind a desk too much I reckon.  Can’t have Hoss looking better than you for the wedding.”

 

Hoss automatically stood taller and pulled in his gut.  He was enjoying Adam’s discomfort.

 

“Don’t you worry, Joe.  Don’t you worry a bit,” Adam said through gritted teeth.

 

Hoss and Joe laughed at their brother’s expense.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“There’s a clean shirt in the armoire,” Sara said as Adam entered their room.    He opened the door and the fresh smell of the cleaned shirts greeted him.  A fastidious man, Adam, normally appreciated a freshly laundered and starched shirt.  Tonight, however, he dreaded the stiff material chafing against his sunburn.

 

She was changing Jacob’s diaper and turned to face her husband and noted his shoulders and neck.  “Oh, sweetheart, let me put some lotion on your shoulders first.”

 

The burn was fiery red and hot to the touch as Sara gently applied the lotion.  “It’s just family, Adam.  Why not wear an old soft undershirt?  It won’t scratch this burn.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Adam settled Jacob in his high chair and sheepishly sat down to the dinner table.

 

“Will ya look at that Joe, Adam at the table in his underwear.  Don’t that jest beat all!” 

 

“Is that a new style, Adam?   Bridget, do gentlemen dress like that in New York?”

 

“Never mind, son,” Ben cautioned Joe.  “Your brother worked hard in the sun all day.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes and placed his napkin in his lap.  If truth be told he had a headache from the sun and would have preferred to skip dinner.

 

Hop Sing entered carrying a platter of fried chicken.

 

“Hop. Hop. Hop,” Jacob called out.

 

“What did he say?” Adam asked.

 

“He learned a new word,” Sara explained.   “That makes six in all.  Mama. Papa.  Baba.  See.  Cookie.  And ‘Hop’.”

 

“Who’s Baba?” Ben asked.

 

“Anybody except Mama and Papa,” Amy explained.

 

“Or Hop,” Sara laughed.

 

Adam sat patiently watching as his family filled their plates with fried chicken, green beans and mashed potatoes.  The more he watched the less he felt like eating.  He took a deep breath and swallowed hard to control the nausea he felt. 

 

“Son, are you feeling all right?”  Ben asked noticing Adam’s ghostly pallor.

 

He shook his head.  “Too much sun.  Excuse me, please,” he said as he left the table.

 

Sara followed him and helped him settle on the bed.   She made him drink a large glass of water.  Then she poured cool water into the wash basin and dipped a cloth in and applied it to his forehead. 

 

“Lie still.  I’ll go get a powder for your headache.”

 

As she passed the dining table, Ben asked after Adam.

 

“He’ll be fine.  He just needs to drink some more water and I’m mixing a powder for his headache.” 

 

“Mister Adam want cool bath?”

 

“No thank you, Hop Sing.  He’s fine.”

 

“Hop,” Jacob piped up.

 

Sara turned and addressed everyone.  “Now I am asking all of you to not tease him about this.  He’s embarrassed enough.  Got it?” They nodded in unison.  When pushed, Sara could be as daunting as Ben Cartwright himself.

 

“See,” Jacob said pointing at Hop Sing.  “Hop.  Cookie.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The medicine allowed Adam to sleep well and he woke early. The fierceness of his sunburn had subsided. He was left feeling sore, but no worse. Still he wore the soft undershirt, rolling up the sleeves to just below his elbows. Hungry, he sat alone at the dinner table sipping black coffee as Hop Sing made him scrambled eggs.

“No bacon for me. I don’t want to try my luck too much. Just eggs and dry toast.”

“You go out again today?” Hop Sing asked.

“Oh sure,” he nodded. “Little sunburn and queasy stomach can’t keep me down long. Besides, we should finish earlier today.”

“Not so hot and sunny. Still, I make you special lunch. You drink more water, Mister Adam. You not drink enough yesterday.”

Soon Hoss joined him. It gave Hoss a rare chance to talk to Adam privately and without interruption about the meeting he’d had with Roy and the State’s Attorney. The brothers agreed that until they had a say so from Jonah Crum, they would not speak to Ben and Joe about it.

One by one the places at the table were occupied. The last empty spot was Joe’s. He yawned and stretched as he made his way downstairs. Smiling impishly at everyone, the day’s teasing began.

“You up to workin’ today, Adam? Maybe Bridget can lend you her sunbonnet.”

“Joseph!” Ben and Sara roared in unison.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ben stayed back to help Sara and Bridget plan the party. It was agreed that it would not be formal. Ranchers and ranch hands, bankers and miners, rich men and poor men, farmers and tradesmen, married ladies and barmaids, the old and the young, everyone would be invited.

“We can roast some steers with all the trimmings,” Ben suggested.

“We’ll set out bales of straw for people to sit on and hang paper lanterns in the yard,” Sara proposed.

“And dancing, most of all I want to dance,” Bridget said.

 

Ben nodded.  “We’ll lay down a wood floor for your first dance.”

“And a really really big cake with vanilla icing!” Amy insisted.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Adam stopped by Jonah Crum’s office on Friday he was informed that the State’s Attorney was still in court for a sentencing session. Crum sent his regrets but he would not be available until one o’clock.

Adam made his way to the Bucket of Blood to bide his time. He walked into the dark saloon and waited for his eyes to adjust. Then he stepped to the bar and ordered a cold beer, chatting with Roscoe for a few minutes. Business was slow. The mines and stamping mills had not broken for lunch yet and the ranch hands were not in town on a weekday during branding season. Pay day wasn’t until the next day. “Calm before the storm,” Roscoe said.

Patsy wandered over to the bar to join Adam. Since his marriage several years earlier, he had not attracted the same attention from the barmaids. They still looked and commented to themselves that he was a handsome man but he was taken. After he married Sara, his glances rarely strayed and he never acted on them.

“I hear we girls have lost another one of you Cartwright men.”

Adam smiled warmly. “That’s right, Patsy. Hoss is getting married.”

“He’s the sweet one, you know. He always treats a girl like a lady, not like that one back there.”

Adam followed her glance back to the poker game in the back of the dark room. He squinted and spied an unfamiliar man smoking a large smelly cigar and waving his cards recklessly. He’d had too much to drink and bullied everyone within reach.

“A rather unsavory character, I’d say,” Adam observed.

“Now that’s what I miss about you, Adam. I miss your good looks and your understated vocabulary.”

“Who is he?”

“Captain Harold Morris. Says he’s a mining captain for a new outfit.”

Adam made note of the man and the familiar name. He finished his beer in one gulp, then tipped his hat to Patsy and left to meet with Jonah Crum.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Adam and Crum sat in the back corner of the International House dining room.  The waiter served their meals and left them alone for private conversation. 

 

“Thomas McCray?” Adam shook his head.  “Don’t know him.  Should I?”

 

“California railroad lawyer worked for Stanford and his lot.  He managed to hector and sue all competitors for the railroads coming east from California, in addition to clearing a wide swath of family farms for the tracks. He cheated poor farmers out of their claims, robbing their dreams for not pennies on the dollar.  And don’t get me started on the labor problems!  The man’s an opportunist and a bully.”

 

Adam raised an eyebrow.

 

“A silver-tongued, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth, kind of bully.  Charms you as he stabs you in the back.  And, if he can’t win an argument, he’ll bribe his way to victory.  He’s got judges and magistrates in his pocket from here to Washington and back.”

 

“So why is he here?”

 

“He goes where the money is.   Jim Duffy’s luck ran wild about a year ago.  He tapped into a deep vein.  The Lucky Star is pulling silver out of the ground like there’s no tomorrow.”

 

“And McCray is representing Silvercrest Mining?”

 

“He filed papers for them the other day.  They mean to expand operations and build a stamping mill.”

 

“Based on what?”

 

“My guess, Adam, is that McCray’s clients are going to challenge Duffy’s claim.  He was looking at the Gold Hill Book this week checking out Menken’s original claim.”

 

“Is Menken still alive?”

 

“Yep.  We found him in Sacramento tending bar.”

 

“If you found him, then Bat Thomas found him as well.”

 

“You free to look at that mine soon?”

 

“Now Jonah, if McCray’s gonna to sue the Lucky Star, that’s a matter for the civil courts,” Adam said.  Then he smiled slyly and added, “You don’t expect me to trespass do you?”

 

“If McCray’s gonna sue, Duffy has the money to hire Stewart to defend his claim.”

 

“Whew!  He doesn’t come cheap.”

 

“Duffy stands to be a millionaire many times over.  He can afford it.  And he can afford to hire a proper professor of the Columbia University School of the Mines to assess the Silvercrest.”

 

“I’ll wait to hear from James Duffy, then.”  Adam rose, tipped his hat, and left.

 

 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

By noon on Sunday Amy and her uncle Joe were uncomfortable in their best clothes waiting for Hoss and Bridget to return from church with their guest, Father Manogue.  Sitting on the front porch, they watched for the buggy, not entirely welcoming in their attitude while they cranked the ice cream maker.

 

“I don’t see why we can’t just have a picnic up by the lake,” Amy complained.  “This dress is scratchy.”

 

“This tie is like to choke me,” Joe added.  “It’s not like we’re gettin’ married.  I do like cherry pie, though.”

 

“And Hop Sing makes the best ice cream.”

 

“Who makes the best ice cream, little girl?”

 

She turned the crank and laughed.  “We make the best ice cream, Uncle Joe.  I sure wish they’d hurry up.”

 

“Me, too, Button.”

 

Adam was next to join them, Jacob kicking and fussing in his arms.  Joe noted his nephew’s foul mood and rolled his eyes at Adam. 

 

“Looks like we’re not the only ones not happy about waiting for lunch.”

 

Adam hushed them as a fine basso voice carried on the wind.  Father Manogue was riding beside the buggy singing an Irish tune they entered the barnyard. 

“Have you ever been in love, me boys, Oh! have you felt the pain?

I'd rather be in jail, I would, than be in love again.

Tho' the girl I love is beautiful, and I'd have you all to know”

Bridget chimed in for the last line.

“That I met her in the garden where the praties grow.”

She was just the sort of creature that nature did intend

To walk throughout the world, my boys, without the Grecian Bend,

Nor did she wear the chignon, I'd have ye all to know”

This time both Bridget and Hoss sang with the priest.

“That I met her in the garden where the praties grow.”

 

“So this is the famous Ponderosa,” Father Manogue bellowed.  He dismounted and helped Bridget down from the buggy.  Hoss tied the reins to the rail and turned to introduce his guest.

 

“Father, these troublemakers here are part of my family.  The ones at the ice cream churn are my niece, Amy, and my brother, Joe.”  Adam stepped off the porch and approached the priest.  “This here is my brother, Adam and his son, Jacob.”

 

The priest placed his large hand on Jacob’s head and said a quick blessing.  It served to calm the fussy boy, whose eyes widened at the sight of the large stranger.  Adam held out a hand to greet the priest.

 

“At last we meet, Captain Cartwright.  I can finally thank you personally for your generosity.”

 

Joe looked puzzled as Adam smiled sheepishly. 

 

“I’ve not been Captain Cartwright for a long time, Father.  As for my gift to your parish, it seemed the best way to honor my stepmother’s memory when you were building the new church.  Her name was Marie, as you know. In fact, it was Bridget’s late brother, Johnny, who suggested a Mary altar.”

 

Bridget put her arm around Adam’s waist and squeezed him a moment.

 

“A wise choice.  Now, let’s go in to lunch before that ice cream melts,” the priest said to break the mood.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Lunch was a success.  Father Manogue coaxed stories from the Cartwrights about the early days of Virginia City.  Then he entertained everyone with stories of his youthful adventures prospecting for gold in California.    

 

“Paid off very well, though,” he said.  “I was able to go to the seminary in Paris.  The good Jesuit fathers gave me an education.  But when I came here to the Comstock, I found that my mining days helped me relate to my parish very well.”

 

“You’re being modest, Father,” Ben said.  “From what I hear you’ve been able to break up some nasty scenes between the owners and the miners.”

 

“I’ve knocked their heads together at times.  Sometimes they both need some persuading.”  He clenched his mighty fist and chuckled.

 

“Sure wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of that,” Joe said.

 

“Hoss and Bridget tell me that you live in New York, Adam.”

 

“That’s right.  I teach at the Columbia School of the Mines.”

 

“Impressive.”

 

Adam shrugged.  “I was wounded in the War and recovered at my cousin’s house.”  He reached for Sara’s hand and held it as he continued. “There I met Sara and Amy.  After we married, we came back here for a visit and I found that I could not continue to work the ranch.  Like you, Father, my background in mining has served me well.”

 

“Rumor has it that there’s gonna be a legal battle over the Lucky Star,” Father Manogue said.

 

Adam and Hoss looked surprised at the turn of the conversation.

 

“First I’ve heard of it.  How do you know?” Ben asked.

 

“James Duffy is a parishioner and a good friend.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“Now, let’s get down to some business,” Father Manogue said as they left the table.  “I need to see the wedding couple and the rest of the party.  Who is the best man, then?”

 

Hoss pulled at his ear a moment.  “Guess this is as good as anytime to ask.  Joe, would ya be my best man?”

 

Joe beamed and slapped his brother between the shoulders.  “Of course, Hoss!”

 

Bridget took Adam’s hand.  “I would be honored if you would walk me down the aisle, Adam.”

 

He kissed her hand and agreed.

 

“And Sara, will you be my matron of honor?”

 

Sara nodded. 

 

The priest spent the next half hour explaining the ceremony and the etiquette involved.   His blunt, authoritative manner dampened Joe’s inclination to tease and everything was settled quickly.

 

“Now that our business is complete, I am taking this infernal collar off and I intend to relax.  I advise you all to not stand on ceremony and go change into more comfortable clothes.”

 

Everyone smiled.  Before they scattered Father Manoque pulled Adam aside and leaned in to speak quietly, “I think we should talk privately.  Do you think we can do that without raising too much suspicion?”

 

“Agreed, Father,” he said nodding.

 

A few minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes, Adam joined the rest of the family on the porch.

 

“Joe, did I hear you promise to take Amy up to the lake?”

 

Amy squealed in delight.  “Can I ride my pony?”

 

“You may,” Sara automatically corrected her.  “It’s such a lovely sunny afternoon, maybe we should all go.”

 

“I think that I’ve gotten enough sun this week,” Adam said rubbing his neck and begging off the suggestion.

 

“I’d love to but I’m due back for the Rosary Society meeting tonight.  I’ll stay a little longer but I can’t join you at the lake.”

 

“I’ll leave Jacob with you then,” Sara said to Adam.  “He went down for his nap just after lunch.  He’ll sleep for another hour or so.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Adam put two glasses on the table and poured the whiskey generously.   The two men clicked their glasses and sipped the dark amber liquor.

 

“I saw that look you gave your brother when I mentioned the Lucky Star.  You and Hoss know something about this lawsuit, am I right?”

 

Adam nodded.

 

“And from what I hear about you Cartwrights, you’re not about to side against Jim Duffy.  You ready to let the cat of the bag?”

 

For the next hour Adam explained his involvement with the case in New York and now back in Nevada. It had begun with an advertisement for guaranteed profit on investments in silver mining stock that Bridget’s aunt saw in the Brooklyn Eagle newspaper.  Both Hoss and Adam were suspicious of the misappropriated quote from Mark Twain endorsing the Silvercrest Mining Company.  Fortuitously Twain was in New York and had a brush up with Hoss. He introduced the brothers to Frank Fuller, a New York lawyer and former territorial governor of Utah, who put the legal wheels in motion to investigate the scheme.

 

With Fuller’s help, the New York Police Department and the Manhattan District Attorney were building a case of fraud against the Silvercrest Mining Company generally and Bat Thomas, in particular.  They were sharing information with the Jonah Crum in Virginia City.

 

“Whew!  I don’t think James knows that it has gone so far,” Father Manogue said.  With that, he told Adam that Duffy sensed trouble shortly after the deep vein was struck in his Lucky Star mine a year or so ago.  Although his mine was privately owned, interest in his mine had been stirred in the California newspapers.  Potential “investors” got in touch with Duffy.  He rejected all comers and made no friends among the get-rich-quick schemers. Still Duffy remained confident that he could ward them off until Bat Thomas and his henchman, Captain Morris, came nosing around Virginia City and turned their attention to Dan Menken’s abandoned claim.  Bringing in McCray meant trouble to Duffy.

 

Adam poured another round. 

 

Like Adam and the priest, James Duffy was an educated man.  Born in   Pennsylvania, the youngest of four brothers, he graduated from Georgetown University in Washington City in 1853 and shortly afterward headed west to make his fortune.   For a short while he prospected gold in California, where he met the young Patrick Manogue and they became fast friends.   When Manogue left for Paris, Duffy moved on to Nevada in search of richer claims.  Dan Menken tagged along for the company.

 

Duffy and Menken were in the right place at the right time and filed abutting claims in the summer of 1859, just after O’Reilly and McLaughlin discovered silver.  Over seventy claims were filed that summer and recorded in Houseworth’s mining logbook kept behind the bar in the saloon.  It was a wild and chaotic time and the recordkeeping would baffle the New York lawyers but the Mining Book A had stood the test of time.  It now was kept in the courthouse and was used as reliable evidence in claims disputes. 

 

“Is it true that Duffy has hired Senator Stewart?”

 

The priest nodded.  “He wanted the best.”

 

“He’s got that in Stewart.  Hell, he was there in the beginning.  His word is law when it comes to silver mines around here.  He wrote the law.”

 

“That’s not stopping McCray from snooping around and filing a nuisance suit.   Can I tell Jim what you’ve revealed to me?”

 

Adam smiled.  “Sure.  Jonah’s gonna have to talk to Stewart and Duffy anyway.”  He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  “And I suppose I’m about to spend more time on this very soon.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Monday morning Adam made his way into Virginia City to meet with his students, Stuart and Peter.  He had in mind that they could meet with Jonah Crum and then do some discreet claims history investigation on the Lucky Star and the Silvercrest. Matilda Deisdesheimer greeted Adam warmly.

 

Matilda Deisdesheimer greeted Adam warmly on Monday morning. 

 

“My, you’re early today, Adam. Come in,” she said, holding out her hands.  “The boys are just finishing breakfast.  There’s hot coffee on the stove.”

 

He took her hands in his and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.  “Sara sends her regards.”

 

They stepped into the bright kitchen and Adam found a place at the table.  He looked twice at Stuart Langdon.

 

“That’s quite a shiner you have, Stuart.”

 

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled.

 

Peter Mills winked at Philip Deisdesheimer. 

 

“Did you slip and fall in the mines?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“You know, Stuart, as your professor I am your in loco parentis this summer.  Anything I should know?”

 

“It was silly.  Peter and I went back to the saloon on Saturday night and there was a kerfuffle.”

 

Adam grinned.  The Bucket of Blood on a Saturday night was nothing like the gentleman’s clubs Stuart would know in the area around New York’s Gramercy Park.  His students were likely in with a rough and rowdy crowd, flush with cash from getting paid that afternoon.  It was a different kind of education, no less valuable than their book learning, that they were getting on Saturday. “And?”

 

“And I was merely talking to one of the young women and this burly, greasy, mad old coot challenged me.  He said he’d paid for her company, a charge she denied, and I defended her honor.”

 

“And who got the best of this ‘kerfuffle’, Stuart?”

 

“Oh, he did, professor,” Peter volunteered.  “The old braggart lost a tooth.”

 

“Didn’t count on my boxing experience,” Stuart said casually.

 

Adam raised his eyebrow.  “Boxing experience, son?”

 

“At Wood’s Gymnasium, sir.  I have been a member for years.”

 

Adam laughed. “I’m sure this ‘old coot’, as you say, was mighty surprised.”

 

“Captain Harold Morris is not likely to challenge me again, sir.  Sheriff Coffee then escorted him to jail for disturbing the peace.”

 

“Whew!  Morris? The mining captain of the Silvercrest?”

 

“Yes, some miners from the Lucky Star mentioned that afterward while they were buying me drinks.”

 

Adam took a sip of black coffee and pondered how Morris would plot his revenge on the young student.  A man like Morris would not forget or forgive Stuart’s dressing down. 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Adam heard the deep roar of laughter before he entered Jonah Crum's office. His two students followed close behind him. He knocked and opened the door to find Senator William Morris Stewart, red from laughing, tilted back in his chair, facing the State's Attorney. Both men stood as Adam walked in.

Stewart was a good head taller than Crum, with a broad, bearded face. He had gone to fat since Adam had last seen him. Adam attributed that to the more sedentary life of a politician in Washington. His time was filled with dinners and dealings, and there was little time to exercise. Stewart's shoulders strained his suit jacket to its limit and a potbelly jutted over his belt. A big, gold watch fob stretched across his middle. He took out the gold railroad watch that he'd received from a grateful client and looked at the time. The clerk's office was just opening.

"Adam Cartwright! Speak of the devil. It's good to see ya, son," he said as he slapped Adam on the back. "We were just talkin' about how you're the man I need to help take down this Silvercrest Mine."

Adam smiled warmly. He'd known the Senator long before his political days, before there was a Virginia City, when he was a placer miner trying his luck in the early 1850's. Stewart was a regular customer at Annie O'Toole's kitchen-tent. He and Annie had remained close friends.

"I was at Annie's on Saturday," he said shaking his head. "Swede is slowing down but Annie's still feisty as can be. I mentioned that I hoped to see you. She sends her regards."

"Thank you, Senator."

"Senator? So formal, Adam?," he asked. Then noting the students he continued, "I know these young men aren't your sons or ranch hands. These are your students, am I right, Professor?"

"Right you are."

"It's an honor to meet the man who wrote the federal mining law, sir," Stuart said as he shook the Senator's hand.

"Yes sir, we followed its progress through Congress last fall," Peter added.

"Boys, I met your professor when he was just about your age. Smart as a whip. I thought he'd be a lawyer not a mining professor in New York."

"A lawyer, Senator?" Jonas Crum asked.

"Why sure. He argued, successfully I might add, a claims dispute involving Annie O'Toole. He had a talent for stating his case clearly and authoritatively."
He put his arm around Adam's shoulders. "Of course things were a little less 'formal' in those days. You remember that, Adam?"

"Of course."

"That's what my case is about. It goes back to those days and the claims we all staked as we tried to make our fortunes. Most left sorely disappointed, but Duffy stuck to it. And he shouldn't have to fight for his mine and his fortune."

"As a matter of fact, I brought my students here for a little history lesson. I want them to look at Mining Book A. They were up at the Lucky Star most of last week."

Stewart smiled. "I can tell them stories another time. Adam, the priest talked to Duffy, who paid me a call last night. I expect that McCray is filing his case as we speak. I'm going to petition for an independent assessment of the Silvercrest Mine. You willing?"

Adam nodded.

"Good. Judge Jenkins will be in touch with you then. Can you do it this week?"

"Better this week than next. Hoss is getting married on the 15th."

"I heard that rumor from Frank Fuller of all people," he winked at Adam. "And I heard he met his bride in New York."

"You heard right."

"Well, I hope to come out to the Ponderosa for the big shindig."

"We would be honored if you and your lovely wife would attend."

"Your pa gonna make that special brandy punch of his?"

"I'm sure that he will."

"We'll be there."

"Let me take you to the mine registration office," Crum said.

He escorted Adam and his students to the second floor office to look at the first mining register, Mining Book A, dating back to 1853. The Lucky Star mine was duly registered by James Duffy, who signed the book with a flourish. Dan Menken registered a claim the same day and signed with an "x", someone, probably Duffy, wrote Menken's name beside it. Peter recorded the information in his notebook.

Adam and his students spent a companionable lunch at the Santini's restaurant. He told them stories about the first discoveries of the Comstock lode and the beginnings of Virginia City. There were amusing tales of old friends who struck it rich, like Annie and Swede, and tragedies, like the death of his best friend, Gil. Peter and Stuart were in awe of their professor who had witnessed the beginnings of silver mining in Nevada.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

On Tuesday a message was sent out to Adam asking him to appear in Judge Jenkins' office the next afternoon. It was sent on the Judge's court stationery but a personal note was included.

"I appreciate your cooperation, Adam. With your credentials, the report will go uncontested if an appeal is filed."

That night at dinner Adam was happy to listen to his family's animated conversations. The wedding was less than two weeks away and the Ponderosa was abuzz with planning the party.

"How about we ride over to look at the site for your house after dinner? I'll bring the plans and we can put down some stakes," Adam suggested.

"It is a pretty evening," Bridget said beaming. "It would be grand to see it at sunset. I want the front porch to face east and I want the kitchen garden to be flooded by the afternoon sun."

Hoss squeezed her hand. "You added a big back porch like Bridget asked for, didn't ya? And the extra bedroom."

"Oh sure, three upstairs and one down. We can add a doorway from the bedroom right onto the porch."

"Oh, that would be lovely," Bridget sighed.

Joe wiped his mouth and placed his napkin on the table. "I'll go get a wagon ready for you."

"I think we’ll walk," Bridget said, taking Hoss’s arm. "It's only half a mile and it's so beautiful this evening."

Hop Sing grabbed Jacob from his high chair. "I take care of Jacob. You all go see place for new house."

Jacob patted Hop Sing's head, chanting, "Hop. Hop. Hop. Cookie."

"We will be just fine," Hop Sing assured Sara.

Hoss and Bridget led the way, arm in arm. The early June evening was warm and the wild flowers perfumed the air. Ben walked behind the group savoring the feelings of pride in his sons and the happiness in their lives. In the end Joe did bring a wagon, loaded a couple of dozen stakes, twine and two mallets. When he got to the site, Bridget was standing on the "back porch".

"This is so perfect, so peaceful," she said. "My da would have love this country." Ben placed his arm around her.

Adam and Hoss were pacing out the dimensions of the house. Joe hobbled the horse and carried some stakes and a mallet over to join them.

"Thanks, Adam. This looks great. It'll be perfect for Bridget and me. Perfect for raisin' a family."

"With four bedrooms, you better be plannin' to get started right away," Joe teased.

"Got to keep pace with older brother here, Joe."

They planted stakes and stayed until sunset. Joe helped Amy, Sara and Bridget into the back of the wagon. Ben rode up front with Joe. Adam and Hoss stayed behind for a few minutes more and walked home.

"Judge Jenkins wants me to see him tomorrow. I suspect he wants me to do a "friend of the court" report on the Silvercrest Mine this week."

"So, McCray filed the papers then. You want me to come along to look at the mine?"

"Nah. You've got too much to do before your wedding. I'll take Peter and Stuart."

"How 'bout Roy?"

"I don't think it's necessary. After all it's the Judge who's asking for a report."

"I don't got a good feelin' about this, Adam. If Thomas and Morris think they're gettin' backed into a corner they may try to bury their tracks."

"Let's see what the Judge has to say."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The meeting was tense.  McCray, with a newly arrived and ruffled Bat Thomas and the belligerent Captain Morris, sat on one side of the room.  Senator Stewart and Duffy on the other.  Judge Jenkins had Adam wait in the hallway for a few minutes. 

 

The walls barely muffled the shouting match in the Judge’s office.  Blustering was a particular talent of the two lawyers.  It was meant to give their clients confidence in their abilities.  When they shared a glass of whiskey, which they did frequently, they were friends.  They’d even been co-counsels on railroad cases in eastern Utah.  Judge Jenkins knew each of them well and let them fume for a few minutes before he addressed everyone.

 

“I see that we’re not going to have a settlement in this case,” the Judge began.   The court reporter laughed at that.  “I can see that I will need for cooler heads to prevail.  Mr. Tanner, will you please ask Mr. Cartwright to step in.”

 

“Who’s he?”  McCray asked his clients.  They shook their heads.

 

“Gentlemen, I am asking Adam Cartwright here to prepare a report for the court.”

 

McCray stood immediately and objected.  “Who is he?  How do we know he is capable of understanding the issues?  He looks like a ranch hand.”

 

Adam smiled and met the Judge’s grin. 

 

“I assure you, gentlemen, Mr. Cartwright is properly credentialed.  He is employed by the Columbia University School of the Mines as a full professor.”

 

“Then what’s he doing here?”

 

“If I may, Judge Jenkins,” Adam said.  “Each summer I bring students here to gain practical experience working in the mines.   It is true that my family is here as well and that I spend my summers at the Ponderosa.”

 

McCray raised an eyebrow at the mention of the ranch.

 

“I have no connection to the Lucky Star mine.”

 

“And Silvercrest, do you know it?”

 

“I knew Dan Menken by sight a long time ago but had no connection to him.  I will admit to seeing the advertisements for the Silvercrest Mining Company in the local press in New York.  As it pertained to my hometown it caught my interest.”

 

Bat Thomas scowled at the mention of New York.

 

“Interest but not investment?”

 

On this question, Adam skated on thin ice.  Technically, he did not own the stock that Sara had purchased under her maiden name as a “wedding gift” to her “niece” Bridget.  She had purchased the stock as a part of the New York City Police Department’s investigation, on the approval of the Manhattan District Attorney. 

 

“No,” he said curtly and volunteered no more information.

 

“If no one objects, I am asking Mr. Cartwright to examine the claims records of the two mines and examine the properties to determine the length and depth of the veins to see if they are connected.”

 

Senator Stewart stood and agreed to the arrangement.

 

McCray consulted his clients and stood.  “We will agree to Mr. Cartwright’s examination but we must stipulate that the Silvercrest Mining captain, Mr. Harold Morris, accompany him.”

 

Adam sighed and nodded in agreement.  He would take Peter with him.  Stuart’s fistfight with Morris had muddied the waters. 

 

“Tomorrow morning, then gentlemen ,”  Judge Jenkins instructed them.  “We’ll meet on next Wednesday morning with the results.  Does that give enough time to write the report?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Bat Thomas pulled Morris aside immediately after the meeting in the Judge’s chambers.

 

“Do what you have to do, but don’t let that report get out.”

 

Morris nodded and left quickly.

 

Thomas returned to his suite at the International House and began packing.  He fetched his valise from under the bed and pulled up the false bottom.  Nearly $45,000 was neatly bundled in the bottom of the case, his take from the sales of bogus stock in New York, less the $5,000 retainer that McCray had demanded in cash that morning. 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Adam met with his students over lunch at Santini’s restaurant.   He explained to them the request from Judge Jenkins and why Stuart would not be accompanying him the next morning.

 

“I don’t understand, sir.  If anything I’d think you would prefer more people with you.  Morris is a loose cannon.”

 

“He’s too volatile, son, I can’t risk riling him with your presence.  I think it would be best if you spent tomorrow morning at the Lucky Star.  Peter and I will join you there when we have completed the examination.”

 

Stuart shook his head in disappointment as Adam excused himself and settled the bill.

 

“I’ll meet you at the livery tomorrow morning, Peter.  Let’s say 7 am.”

 

“Mister Adam, I was wondering if you’d give Mister Hoss a message for me,” Lucy Santini said.

 

“Of course, Lucy.”

 

“Tomorrow Tony is our boy. Official like. We sign adoption papers in the morning.  We want Mister Hoss to be there, then we have big lunch.”

 

Adam affectionately ruffled Tony’s hair and kissed Lucy’s cheek.  “That’s great news.  I’m sure Hoss will want to come.”  Adam tipped his hat at his students and left.

 

“He’s mistaken, you know, Peter,” Stuart said.  “That man Morris is not to be trusted.”

 

“But what are you going to do about it?”

 

“Not follow his instructions, of course.” 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

McCray and Stewart sat in a private dining room at the International House engaged in small talk while waiting for Judge Jenkins to join them.

 

“When shall we three meet again,” the Judge said as he entered the room.  “Pour me one of those,” he continued as he pointed to the whiskey.

 

The trio enjoyed their lunch, sharing stories, catching up on news of friends and family. 

 

“I don’t mind saying that your clients, Tom, are a bit unsavory,” the Senator said.

 

“Unsavory?  I’d say scoundrels, Bill,” McCray answered.  “Petty scoundrels at that.  They wanted to pay me a percentage of their eventual settlement from Duffy.”

 

Stewart roared with laughter.  “I trust you dissuaded them of that notion.”

 

“I asked for $5,000 in cash for a retainer.  He paid me this morning.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Morris headed to the Bucket of Blood for some Dutch courage before he headed up to the Silvercrest mine to prepare it for the next morning’s visit.

 

“Buy me a drink, mister,” Kate asked, sidling up to the mining captain.

 

“Leave me alone.”  He shoved her aside and asked for another whiskey.

 

“What’s eatin’ you?”  Roscoe asked.

 

“You all deaf in here?  I said, ‘leave me alone’.”  He gulped the whiskey and left, heading toward the livery.  What he had to do was plain but that didn’t mean that even a mean old cuss like Morris wouldn’t be bothered by it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Stuart stepped out on to the boardwalk and shaded his eyes.  He turned left and began walking in a determined manner.

 

“Hey, Stuart, the courthouse is the other way.   We’ve got work to do.”

 

“It’ll keep, Peter.  I have to make a purchase.”

 

Peter caught up to his friend.  “I don’t like the look in your eyes.  Where are you going?”

 

“The mercantile.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Early the next morning Adam and Hoss rode into Virginia City.  

 

“Ya sure, ya don’t want me to come along?  That Morris guy is a mean ol’ rattlesnake.”

 

“You can’t disappoint Tony, Hoss.  I’ll be fine.  Peter will be there.”

 

“You let Roy know about this?”

 

“Yes, mother,” Adam answered sarcastically.

 

Peter and Morris were waiting at the livery when Adam arrived.  Adam was relieved that Stuart had obeyed him and was not there.  Peter and Morris mounted and they headed toward the Silvercrest.

 

“Where’s Stuart?” Adam asked under his breath.

 

“Rode out about twenty minutes ago.”

 

Adam raised an eyebrow..

 

“He wanted to be out of sight when Morris came.”

 

Adam nodded. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Indeed Stuart had ridden out early and had arrived at the Lucky Star mine according to Adam’s instructions.  The Lucky Star mine was further up the hill from the Silvercrest and though they abutted each other the entrances were a quarter mile apart and not within sight of each other. 

 

Stuart dismounted and was greeted by James Duffy. 

 

“I didn’t expect you today, son.   I thought you’d be helping Adam Cartwright.”

 

“I have some history with Captain Morris, sir,” Stuart answered rubbing the area just below his black eye.  “Professor Cartwright thought I might be a hindrance to the proceedings today.”

 

“I see,” Duffy said thoughtfully.  “That gun on your hip part of why Cartwright didn’t want you around?”

 

“He doesn’t know anything about it.”

 

“You know what you’re doing with that, son?”

“I do, sir.  After the draft riots in New York in ’63 my father taught me and my brothers how to shoot.”

 

“I’ll ask you to remove it when you go down into the mine.”

 

“I don’t intend to go into the mine today.  I’m going back down the hill and watch for Morris, make sure he doesn’t do anything objectionable.”

 

“You mean ‘sabotage’.”

 

“Or worse, sir.”

 

Stuart tied his horse to the hitching rail and made his way back towards the Silvercrest mine.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The three men dismounted and hobbled their horses near some trees to graze.  Peter reached into his saddlebag to fetch his notebook.  He patted his pockets to check for matches and candles.  As a mine owner’s son he never entered a mine without plenty of candles.  He unlatched the lantern from his saddle and walked to the crude entrance to the mine. 

 

He removed the Silvercrest Mining Company sign and lit the lantern waiting for the others.  It was clear to him that the mine had not been worked for years.  The timbers framing the entrance were well weathered.  Cobwebs hung at the corners. 

 

Adam followed closely and he and Peter entered the mine. 

 

“I’ll be there in a minute.  Jest forgot my candle,” Morris called out.  He took a match from his pocket and headed toward the entrance.  He noted that Adam and Peter had walked in and were examining the walls.  He smiled at his luck.  He struck the match against the timber and lit the fuse he had set the day before.  Then he ran away as the mine entrance collapsed in a pile of rubble.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The explosion occurred as Stuart neared the Silvercrest Mine.  He ran toward the noise cursing his timing.  

 

The horses had shied at the blast and Morris was having difficulty catching his.  The horse reared as he grabbed the reins and tugged roughly.  He didn’t notice Stuart’s approach, but the feel of the cold gun barrel between his shoulder blades was unmistakable. 

 

“Drop the reins, Captain Morris, and put your hands in the air.”  When Morris hesitated, Stuart struck him with the pistol rendering him senseless. 

 

Stuart choked on the smoke and dust as he looked toward the mine entrance.  Debris clogged it completely.  He sat for a moment, his head in his hands and cried at the loss of his friends. 

 

Within minutes Duffy and a crew of miners came upon the sight, he knelt beside Stuart to comfort him.

 

“You did your best, son.  We’ll take care of Morris and get word to the Cartwrights.”

 

“No!  They could be alive in there.  We have to clear the entrance.”

 

“Son, it would take weeks to clear that.  We should pray that they died quickly in the blast.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Propelled forward by the explosion, Adam tumbled into the mine like a rag doll.  He was thrown twenty feet or more and lay crumpled against the wall in the inky darkness.  He felt a hand on his forehead and heard a voice coming from far away as he woke sometime later. 

 

“Professor Cartwright,” the voice called softly.  And then a little louder, “Professor Cartwright?  Wake up, sir.”

 

In the dim light of a single candle, Peter Mills hovered over Adam.  Blood from a gash on Adam’s forehead smeared his fingers.

 

“Aarrgghh,” Adam moaned as he tried to sit up.  His head was woozy and there was a stabbing pain in his shoulder.  Peter gently placed his hand on Adam’s chest and prevented him from moving.

 

“Take it easy, sir.  You’re banged up a bit.  I think your shoulder’s out of joint and you’ve got a lump on your head.”

 

“I’m cold,” Adam said shivering. 

 

Peter frowned when he heard that.  It was warm in the mine.  Adam must be in shock.  He removed his jacket and placed it over Adam.  Then Peter looked into his eyes to see if they were glassy.  Adam coughed and grimaced. 

 

“Dusty,” he said in a raspy voice.

 

Peter held a flask to his lips and helped him sip some water.

 

“Hold still, sir.  I’m gonna try to fix that shoulder before it swells too bad.”

 

Adam looked away and gritted his teeth as Peter rotated the arm and popped it back in place.  He shuddered in pain, but he managed to keep control of his wits.  It hurt like the blazes.

 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Adam asked as he recovered his breath.

 

“I’ve got three brothers and we always were in my family’s coal mine,” Peter said with a shrug.  “You can’t help but pick up a little first-aid along the way. Do you know where you are, Professor?”

 

“Sure, Peter.  The Silvercres. Where’s Stuart?”

 

Relieved that Adam was becoming more alert, he answered softly.  “You sent him up to the Lucky Star today.”

 

“And Morris?”

 

“He was behind us.  Maybe he got out.  Maybe he’s under that rubble.”

 

“Damn.”

 

“Professor, I was thinking when you’re feeling strong enough, I’d like to go further in and look around.  Didn’t Mr. Deidesheimer say he thought Dan Menken found a passage into the Lucky Star?  I want to check it out.”

 

Adam looked back at the blocked entrance.  He shook his head. “We’re sure not getting out that way.  Must be a hundred tons of rock between us and entrance.”

 

“But sir, air is moving from somewhere.  Can you feel it?”

 

Adam shook his head slightly.

 

“Maybe there’s a monkey shaft off the main one.  Could be there’s an airshaft into the Lucky Star.”   

 

Assured that Adam was stable, Peter left his professor with several candles and some matches, and started to leave to explore deeper into the mine.

 

“One hour, no more,” Adam insisted.

 

“One hour, sir.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Crestfallen, Stuart rode to Virginia City to tell the news to Sheriff Coffee and Jonah Crum.  He rode ahead allowing Duffy’s men to bring Morris into town.

 

It was Roy Coffee that he found first.  Roy gasped at the terrible news and shook his head.  “I just saw Hoss.  He’s in the courthouse with the Santini’s.”

 

Stuart found the Santini family in Judge Jenkins’ office.  The judge was presiding over the adoption of Tony.  Hoss and Father Manogue were serving as witnesses.  Stuart stood in the hallway not wanting to disturb the ceremony.  A few minutes later the priest stepped out.

 

“Father,” Stuart said.  “May I have a word with you?”

 

“Do I know you, son?”

 

“No, Father, I’m Stuart Langdon, one of Professor Cartwright’s students.”  With that Stuart broke down and sobbed.

 

The priest put a comforting arm around the boy’s shoulders.  “Son, what are you trying to say?”

 

“There was an explosion,” he blurted.  “Peter and the professor,” he sobbed.

 

“Take a breath, son.  Peter and the professor….”

 

“They were in the mine.  Mr. Duffy said they’re dead.”

 

“Holy mother of God!  You’re here to tell Hoss aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Hoss’s face crumbled and his mouth quivered a moment before his lips formed a thin, tight line.  He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. He refused to believe that his brother was dead.  His gaze became steely and his demeanor calmed to a fierce determination. 

 

“I’m goin’ up there and dig ‘em out.  They ain’t dead.  I know that.  I feel it in my bones. Somebody’s gotta tell Sara and Pa and the rest of ‘em,” he said softly.

 

“Mr. Duffy sent a man to the ranch.”

 

“Then, Stuart, ya with me?  Father?”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Slowly, methodically Peter made his way deeper into the Silvercrest tunnels.  The son of a Pennsylvania coal mine owner, Peter was grateful that his father had insisted that his sons spend time underground.  He had little fear of the pitch black and the narrow passageways.  He forced himself to remain optimistic as he stumbled through the mine.   He felt wisps of air and was resolute in his search for the source. 

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

 

It was nearly eleven o’clock when Hoss, Stuart and Father Manogue made it to the Silvercrest site.   The sun was beating down on the pile of debris blocking the entrance.  There sat James Duffy, his head hung low, sitting a sad vigil.

 

“Hoss, I’m awful sorry for what happened here,” he began.  “If I could have guessed this is where things would lead. . . . well, nothing is worth losing lives.”

 

“We’re gonna get ‘em out,” Hoss insisted.  “We’re gonna get ‘em out alive.”

 

Stuart brought the picks and shovels to the pile.  Hoss sent him up to check for air pockets near the top of the entrance.  There were none to see.  Loose debris tumbled as Stuart made his way back down.  

 

“They don’t stand a ghost of a chance, Patrick,” Duffy confided to the priest.

 

“Don’t tell them that,” Father Manogue said.  “They need to work it out for themselves.  Pardon me, Jim, but I’ve got to help them.  And if you want to pay your respects to the Cartwrights, you and your men will help as well.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

News of the explosion spread throughout the Lucky Star.  As the lunchtime break arrived, nearly fifty miners gathered at the blocked entrance to the Silvercrest.  They offered help removing the rubble and prayed in low whispers for the two men trapped behind it.  The work was slow and dangerous and not one man complained.   Every man who ever entered a mine knew he was at risk to die there.  Every man who ever entered a mine lived with that risk every day.  And every man who ever entered a mine did his best to free those who were trapped.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Adam settled back against the wall and struggled against the pain and dizziness.  He shut his eyes to relieve the vertigo.  His thoughts naturally turned to his family.   He was angry with himself for inviting trouble and getting involved in the whole Silvercrest affair.  Too many times in his life he had acted on principle without regard to the danger involved and the people he would hurt if he failed.  The odds of getting out of the mine were against him, he knew that, and he rued the day he had seen the advertisement for the Silvercrest Mine.

 

He woke to find the candle had burned down to less than half its size.  He knew it had been more than an hour since Peter left to search the mine.  He winced as he shifted position and pulled out his watch.  It read 7:42.  It had stopped at the time of the explosion. 

 

He tried shouting for Peter but his voice was lost in the abyss of the mine shaft.  He worried that Peter had fallen and was hurt or worse.  Slowly, painfully he stood and steadied himself against the wall.  

 

“Can’t stay here,” he thought.  He stooped slowly to retrieve the candles and rose shakily.   He started out to find Peter, reeling in the dark like a drunken sailor.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Joe was out with the men moving the herd when the news came to the Ponderosa. Ben sent word up to him and then hitched the team to a wagon. He grabbed lanterns and shovels from the barn. Sara brought blankets, her first-aid kit, and a hastily packed basket of food. Together they made their painfully slow way to the accident scene. Sara’s face was grim and pale as death. Ben put his arm around her as she wept from frustration.

“He’ll be fine, Sara,” Ben said softly.

“We don’t know that,” she said.

“We have to believe that, my dear.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He knew it was well past the one hour timeframe Adam had demanded. Still Peter did not turn back. He’d stopped and started a number of times, trying to follow the air current and listening for sounds from the Lucky Star. He was elated when he felt a dampness in the rock wall. A little further ahead the air got fresher and he felt water. He prayed that it meant there was a natural air shaft nearby.

His prayers were answered as he noticed the mineshaft brightening slightly. He inched slowly toward the light, testing the floor which each step. The air was getting fresher and he dared himself to hope that he’d found a way to exit the mine and get help.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was nearly three o’clock when Ben and Sara arrived at the site. Father Manogue was the first to greet them.

“Mrs. Cartwright,” he began as he helped her down. “I am so sorry.”

Her legs failed her. “He’s not. . . .”

“Oh no, my dear, we know nothing really,” he said as he steadied her. “They’re making progress but it is dangerous and slow. Still, we must pray for the best.”

Hoss approached his sister-in-law with his head hung low. He was covered in a fine gray dust, his hands scratched and bloodied from working at removing the rubble.

“Oh Hoss,” she sobbed and hugged him.

“Now Sara, you’re gonna get all dirty,” he said quietly. He patted her back gently. “Don’t you give up hope. I know we’ll find him.”

Ben placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t I help the men and you rest for a bit.”

“No sir, I cain’t do that.”

“For Sara’s sake, Hoss. Please sit with her a while.”

Hoss nodded and guided Sara to a shaded area under the trees. There Father Manogue had spread a blanket for her. He fetched the basket and encouraged both Hoss and Sara to drink some water and eat a bit. When Hoss refused, he scolded him.

“Now Hoss Cartwright, it does your brother no good if you don’t eat and drink enough water. I won’t have two Cartwrights to worry about.”

Hoss glared at the priest.

“I mean it, Hoss. And I’m the only man here big enough to make you follow directions.”

He nodded and took a long drink of cool water.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

He found it. There was a narrow crevice with a shaft of dim light from above. He reckoned that it had to be a connection to the Lucky Star. He blessed his pesky older brothers who had dragged him along on rock climbing adventures in the Pennsylvania mountains from the time he was six. He held the candle in the crevice. The light revealed no bottom. He tossed a stone and it took a long time to land. If he slipped it would surely mean death for himself and Adam.

He braced himself against the walls of the crevice and painstakingly crawled up the twenty or so feet to the third level of the Lucky Star mine. He scurried over the ledge to safety and lay there a moment panting. Finally Peter stood and walked toward the light in the distance. He stepped out from the darkness, covered in dust, with a ghostly countenance.

“Can I have some water?” he croaked wearily.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Where did you come from?”

“The Silvercrest.”

A roar of relief rose up from the depths of the Lucky Star. Word was sent up to the mine office and down to the Silvercrest Mine site to send for the Cartwrights and alert Paul Martin.

Led by Peter, the miners made their way back to the crevice to rescue Adam. They found him not far from where Peter had left him. He had collapsed from the pain and nausea from his head wound.

A steel bucket and winch were rigged to hoist Adam up to the third level. With Adam in his arms, Peter was slowly, carefully lifted to safety.

In the end it was Hoss and Father Manogue who carried Adam from the mine. Adam was slumped between them, his head hanging loose to the side. Sara bit her hand to prevent herself from sobbing. Ben grabbed her in a tight bear hug and whispered to her, “He’ll be fine.”

She nodded her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I know. It’s just that I was so scared that I had lost him.”

They laid Adam down on a blanket and Ben stepped forward. He quickly looked at the gash on Adam’s forehead and examined his swollen shoulder. Then Ben retrieved a small vial from a first-aid bag and opened it, placing it under Adam’s nose.

The acrid odor of the smelling salts brought Adam to his senses. He jerked away from the stench, coughing and wincing from pain.

“Sara, Sara,” he mumbled. He opened his eyes and searched frantically for her.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” she said as she knelt and took his hand.

“Adam, son, do you know where you are?” Ben asked.

“Yes, Pa.” He collapsed in a spasm of coughing, leaving him panting and groaning.

Ben checked gently for broken ribs. There were none, though bruises were beginning to raise. He leaned back on his haunches and said, “You’re a little worse for wear, Adam, but lucky nonetheless. Sara, help him drink a little. Not too fast. And Hoss, get the wagon ready. Help me with your brother. We'll take him to Paul's office.”

Ben stood and faced the men who had helped them. "Thank you." His voice cracked as he continued. "Thank you all for your help and your prayers."

Father Manogue squeezed Ben's shoulder. "They know your fear and how you feel. Now take Adam down to the doctor."

Ben drove the wagon slowly over the rough road. Sara and Hoss buffeted Adam as they rode back to town. He floated in and out of consciousness and grimaced with the constant lurching of the wagon. It was just past sunset when they got to Paul Martin’s house.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam was lying on the examining table, naked save for his drawers, trying to stay as still as possible. His breath was shallow to prevent the stabbing pain from his bruised ribs. He closed his eyes against the bright light and the spinning room. He tried to will himself into not feeling the pain from the myriad of cuts and scratches and bruises over his battered body.

Adam could hear Doc Martin readying his instruments for treating his wounds. Neither of them could help but overhear the conversation in the hallway.

“Now Sara, just relax and sit here,” Betty, Doc Martin’s wife, said as she led Adam’s family and his students toward the familiar waiting room. “I’ll clean Adam up and Paul can start stitching that head wound.”

“No,” Sara said emphatically, pushing Betty aside. “I’ll do it. Just bring me some warm water and a soft flannel.”

Adam smiled at his wife’s tenacity. Paul chuckled. “She’s a pistol when she’s riled, isn’t she?”

Adam opened one eye and looked wearily at the doctor.

“With that knock on your head I can’t give you anesthesia, you know. You want a little brandy?”

“No, feel too queasy.”

Sara stepped into the room with a basin of warm soapy water.

“Put a little of this in there,” Doc Martin said as he handed her a vial of tincture of zinc. “We don’t want to risk any infection. I’ll go talk to the others.”

She dipped the soft cloth into the warm water and began to dab at the gash on his forehead. The zinc tincture stung and he shied away from the cloth. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. There is a lot of dirt in that cut." She dipped the cloth again and did not wring it so tightly. She placed it on the wound and allowed it to soak a few minutes as she examined the scrapes on his hands and knees.

Doc Martin quickly briefed them on Adam’s condition and urged them to go home. "Ben, I mean it. He’ll be fine. He’s been knocked around worse than this breaking horses. Let Betty clean up those hands,” he said pointing to Hoss and Stuart. “And you,” he addressed Peter, “stay here a while. I want to check you over.”

Despite their objections, Hoss and Ben and a late arriving Joe finally left after they’d talked to Adam. He convinced them that Bridget needed help with Amy and Jacob. With her high spirits, Adam and Sara were concerned that Amy might be hysterical.

“Please, Pa, you have a way with her. She’ll trust you.”

“Bring the carriage tomorrow morning. He should be stable enough to move then,” Paul Martin assured them. Betty escorted them out and Paul stepped back into the treatment room and examined his patient.

“You’re turning a rainbow of pretty colors there, Adam.” He pressed lightly on the bruising at Adam’s ribs. Adam sucked in his breath sharply. “We’ll wrap those later. Sara, you done cleaning that gash?”

She nodded and took Adam’s hand.

“Peter? Son?," the doctor called out. "Come in here would ya and hold his head while I stitch him up.”

Adam gazed at the doctor and nodded that he was ready. He gritted his teeth and held his breath as Doc Martin began. To keep Adam’s mind off the procedure the doctor talked.

“Now Sara, I don’t want to leave any more scars on your husband’s face. I’m using this new procedure with this little curved needle. It’s called a buried stitch.”

Adam sighed deeply and lost consciousness.

“That’s better,” the doctor said. “It’ll all go much smoother now. Sara, will you prepare some sticking plasters?”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

As they left Doc Martin's home, Hoss turned away from the group. He squared his shoulders and his face was tense. “There’s somewhere I gotta go ‘fore I go home.”

Joe grabbed Hoss’s arm.

“Don’t ya try and stop me, Joe. I’m gonna have a word with Morris.”

Stuart stepped between the brothers. “He’s right. Let him go. I’ll go with you, Hoss.”

“Sure, Stuart, ya earned that right.”

"I'll not have you endanger yourself, Hoss. If anyone of us goes, we all go," Ben insisted.

They all walked the length of C Street entered Sheriff Coffee’s office. They found Roy at his desk calmly doing paperwork. He stood as they entered.

“Now what do y’all want here?”

Hoss’s eyes narrowed and his lips formed a thin straight line. “Ya know what I want, Roy.”

“I do, Hoss,” he said stepping in Hoss’s way. “And ya ain’t gonna see him. Jonah Crum and the judge are with Captain Morris right now. He's singing like a songbird back there. Nobody told him yer brother’s alive yet.”

“And Bat Thomas?”

“Well, I'm sorry to say that he left last night according to Ray Zurcher. He hired a horse and rode out before supper.”

"What are ya doin' here then?"

"Now Hoss, he had a nearly whole day's head start on us. We don't even know what direction he was headed. I wired every sheriff from here to California and down to Mexico. And Senator Stewart contacted Allan Pinkerton himself this afternoon."

"What about New York?"

"You think he's headed that way?"

"Don't know but that's where the money is."

"I know and that's why Jonah wired Frank Fuller and the police there."

Ben and Joe looked at Hoss puzzled. Just what did he know about Morris and this fellow Bat Thomas? Had something happened in New York?

"Wasn't Bat Thomas that big crazy red haired man I saw at the Bucket of Blood a while back?"

Hoss faced his father and brother sheepishly. "Guess I have some explain' to do." He tipped his hat to Roy and said good night.

Out on the boardwalk, Hoss shook Stuart's hand and thanked him for all of his help that day. "You take care of Peter, ya hear. That boy's a real hero."

"He is indeed, sir. Kept a cool head all day. I'm headed back to the doctor's to escort him home."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sara woke from a nightmare with a start. The room was in shadow and she didn't know where she was for a moment. Then she heard Adam's soft snoring and she calmed herself. Her shoulders and back ached from sleeping seated in a hard chair, draped over the bed. She straightened up and stretched her back. Adam's breathing was steady and he was sleeping normally. She kissed him gently and made her way to the kitchen.

Betty had prepared the coffee pot the night before. Sara lit the stove to start the coffee and looked around for cups. She worried that she'd wake Paul and his wife and she tried her best to not make noise. She pumped some water and washed her face. When the coffee was ready she took the pot and a cup out onto the back porch. There she sipped the soothing hot drink and said a prayer of thanks for Adam's rescue.

"Any more coffee in that pot, Sara?"

She jumped at the sound of Paul Martin's voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I'm an early riser. About the coffee…."

"Yes, of course, let me pour you some." She stood and poured him a cup. "Excuse me, I should go check on Adam."

"No need, I just did. He's fine. He woke for a minute and I helped him use the chamber pot. He's sleeping again. Best thing for him right now. Did you get any sleep, Sara?"

She shook her head. "I napped and had nightmares."

"I figured that. He'll be fine, you know, Sara. Not much keeps a Cartwright down."

"Should we move him today? Is it too soon?"

"You and I know that he won't rest comfortably unless he's home. He will recover quicker there."

"Thank you, Paul."

"Now, Betty doesn't usually get up for another hour or so, but I learned to make some mean scrambled eggs in my bachelor days. I'll just finish this coffee and make you some."

"No, thank you, I don't have an appetite."

"Sara Cartwright, that wasn't a question I asked you. You didn't eat yesterday and I'm not gonna have two Cartwrights as patients this morning. The question is, would you like some bacon with your eggs?"

"No, but if you have some jam, I'll have toast," she said laughing.

"Strawberry jam okay with you?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Joe came by eight o'clock bringing a change of clothes for Adam. They woke him but he remained groggy as they carefully dressed him. Paul strapped his left arm to his chest to immobilize it. Adam refused food but drank some water and even agreed to take a powder for his headache. Then Paul and Joe helped him into the carriage, seating him between Sara and Joe.

"Take it slow and easy, Joe. Try not to jostle him too much. He's still pretty queasy."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Paul."

"You do know that I can hear you, don't you?," Adam said sarcastically. Sara pinched him. "Ouch."

"Behave."

Paul grinned at his friend's scolding. "Sara, you know what to do. Keep that shoulder strapped down. He's gonna fight you on that but it's the best thing for it. Try to prop him up today. It'll keep the swelling down. If he complains, you give him more of the powder but use it judiciously."

Sara nodded.

"Betty and I were thinking of going up to the Lake on Sunday. I'll drop by then to see how he is."

"Thank you, Paul. And thank Betty for me. I fear I was a little harsh with her yesterday."

"Water under the bridge, my dear. See you on Sunday."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jacob's plaintive wailing for his mother could be heard as Joe turned the carriage toward the house. Adam woke at the sound and winced at the bright sunlight.

"Your welcome party is assembled," Joe teased. "All hail the conquering hero!"

"Quiet peasant," Adam mumbled.

Bridget was rocking Jacob on the front porch. She looked exhausted by the efforts to calm the baby's hysterics. She was relieved to see Adam was awake and sitting up but she was mighty grateful to hand an angry Jacob to Sara.

"Oh Jacob, baby," she cooed to him. "Mama's here, sweetie. Mama's here."

Ben and Hoss helped Adam down and slowly walked him into the house. He moved like an ancient sailor, reeling and teetering off kilter. Amy watched in horror. Joe hugged her and assured her that her papa would be fine.

"He's all black and blue, Joe."

"He'll be fine, sweetie," Sara said still rocking Jacob. "He's stiff and sore and he has a bad headache."

"Like when Tony hit his head?"

"Exactly, sweetie, just like Tony after his accident in New York. After Grandpa and Hoss settle him in bed you can go see him."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A little while later, Adam was lying against the plumped pillows when Amy crept quietly into the room. "Come in, Amy," Adam said tapping the space beside him. "Sit with me a few minutes."

"I should fix the curtains," she said as pulled them to cover the windows, darkening the room.

"Thank you, sweetpea."

"Papa, does your head hurt like Tony's did?" She sat at the edge of the bed and held Adam's hand.

He nodded slowly. He kept his eyes closed. The double vision and vertigo made him dizzy. "Your little brother sure was making a racket, wasn't he?"

Amy laughed. "Poor Aunt Bridget and Grandpa. He was terrible."

"He is a stubborn little boy, isn't he?," Adam asked and yawned.

"Oh, yes, Papa."

"Wonder where he got that trait?"

"From you, Papa," she said without an irony. "When you wake up, I can read to you or I can bring a kitten in to play with."

"That sounds good, Amy. I think I need to rest now."

"Yes, Papa." She kissed him and skipped out of the room.

"Adam," Ben said softly. "You need to drink some water before you sleep." Ben gently lifted Adam and supported him while he drank. "It's good to have you home, son."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara laid down with Jacob during his nap and slept through lunch. When she woke she was surprised to see she was in Adam's old room and Jacob was not beside her. She washed her face and neatened her hair and made her way to the kitchen. There she found Jacob in his high chair banging a spoon.

"Mama! See. Mama!"

She leaned down and kissed his head. "Thank you, Hop Sing."

"Mrs. Sara want some food? I save plate for you. Chicken and dumplings."

"That sounds wonderful, thank you." She made her way to the warming shelf in the oven, retrieved the plate and carried it to the table. Hop Sing brought her flatware wrapped in a napkin and a glass of cool water.

"I see if Mr. Adam try some later."

"I'm not sure that he'll have any appetite. He's bound to be still woozy from the knock on his head."

"I make clear soup then."

"It would be much appreciated. Thank you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam moved restlessly in his sleep, murmuring Sara’s name. He could not settle and began to thrash about in the throes of a nightmare. Sara woke and stroked his feverish brow to soothe him.

“Shh, sweetheart, you’re safe. Everyone is safe.”

He woke with a moaning cry and sat up suddenly. He was startled and confused by his surroundings. He was panting as if he’d run a long distance.

“Adam,” she called to him softly, breaking the spell. He turned to face her and he sighed in relief.

“It was just a dream.” He pressed the bridge of his nose to relieve the pounding headache.

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

“It was so real. You were trapped and I couldn’t get to you.”

“I’m here, Adam. You’re safe now,” she assured him. “Sweetheart, you’re all sweaty. Why don’t you sit in the rocker and I’ll change the sheets?”

Sara helped him as he limped slowly to the rocker. She pulled back the curtains to let in some fresh air. The moonlight softly illuminated the room. Adam leaned back and let a slight breeze cool him. Quickly and efficiently she changed the bed linens, tossing the damp sheets on the floor.

He drew her to him when she returned to the rocker.

“Just let me hold you,” he sighed.

She lay awake for a long time after he fell asleep. Adam wasn’t the only one with nightmares after the mine explosion. A shiver traveled down her spine. She nestled close to Adam and gingerly placed her arm around his torso. She listened to his deep regular breathing and calmed her fragile nerves.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For an entire day the occupants of the Ponderosa acted contrary to their natures in deference to Adam's condition. They spoke in hushed tones, wore slippers in the house to soften their footsteps and refrained from roughhousing. Amy took it upon herself to police her uncles and her little brother.

"Shhhhh, Papa needs it quiet. His head hurts and Mama says he has to sleep."

But Saturday evening, just before dinner, when Amy's kitten jumped out of her arms and ran for cover in the bedroom where Adam slept, the peace was shattered. Amy crawled under Adam's bed and the kitten darted. A merry chase was on. It lasted until the kitten was caught up in Hoss's legs and he came tumbling down with a crash.

"You lookin' for this ornery little puff ball, Amy?" Hoss asked holding up an angry kitten, hissing and spitting at her captor.

Joe roared at his big brother's dilemma.

"Monkey business, monkey business," Ben chided them. "Sooner or later someone's bound to get hurt."

"What's going on out there?," Adam called out.

"Nothing, Papa," Amy answered sweetly as she leaned against the door. "We're sorry. We'll be quiet now."

Hoss and Joe winked at her.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

On Sunday morning Adam felt better for having slept through the night. His queasiness had passed and agreed to try something more substantial than a cup of clear soup.

"Finally, there's just one of you sitting beside me," he said.

Sara looked puzzled as she sat watching him eat a soft boiled egg and toast.

"Double vision," he explained. "It's gone. And the room isn't spinning so much. It's a relief."

"You're not as pale, either. How's your headache?"

"It's in the background but not thumping anymore."

"Paul said he'd stop by today. He'll be pleased."

Adam rubbed his chin. His four day beard was itchy. "Maybe you should ask Hop Sing if he would shave me."

"You are feeling better," Sara answered smiling.

"Gotta look good for company," he teased.

She laughed and tossed a napkin in his face.

Paul Martin and his wife did stop by and he was satisfied with Adam's progress. When Adam asked if he would be able to walk Bridget down the aisle on Saturday, he was cautioned that he would have to wait to know.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Before dawn on Monday, Bridget turned toward Hoss in her sleep and sighed. He grinned and tickled her nose. She brushed his finger way and stretched.

"Mornin', darlin'."

"Morning, Hoss." She inched closer to him and reached her hand over to caress his chest.

"Tickles," he chuckled in throaty voice.

"I love your chest hair."

"Yeah?"

She reached up and stroked his shoulder. "I love your strong shoulders." Working her way down she added, "and your arms, and this chest."

"I see."

She stroked his torso and continued, "and your belly." She tugged at the drawstring of his drawers.

"Bridget, hon, it's kinda early."

"Never too early, Hoss," she purred.

He held her in his arms after they made love, delighted in his good fortune in loving Bridget. They talked about their plans for the day.

"I need to go to town for a final fitting of my wedding dress. Sara planned to come with me. I doubt she'll leave Adam, though."

"I'll come with ya."

"It's bad luck for you to see the dress."

"Does it count since we're already married?"

"The women in the shop don't know that."

"I'll take you there and then I got some people to see."

"Captain Morris? Hoss Cartwright, he confessed. He's in jail. Leave it alone."

"Heck, Bridget, I know that but I got things to say to him. Besides I gotta give Tony his present when I'm in town."

"A present?"

"I got him a pony. He's been riding them livery ponies and they're mean. I got him his own pony and a saddle."

"He fits right in here in Virginia City, doesn't he?"

"Yep, he does. Took to the place like he was born here. Took to Bruno and Lucy, like he was always their son." He squeezed her tight. "You'll take to it, too. You'll see."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hoss squared his shoulders and took a deep breath and walked into the sheriff's office. Roy and Clem were seated drinking coffee.

"Roy, I gotta talk to Captain Morris."

"Can't do that, Hoss."

"Roy, I've known you forever. I don't wanna hurt ya but I gotta talk to that rattlesnake."

"Can't do that, Hoss, 'cause he ain't here. Judge Jenkins held an emergency session late Friday night. Jest the judge, Jonah, Morris, McCray, the court reporter and Clem and me. The judge read the charges. Morris pleaded guilty and the judge sentenced him to ten years hard labor. Next mornin' Clem took him in chains to the penitentiary."

"Cain't say I'm disappointed with that, jest wish I coulda been there."

"I think that's precisely what the judge and Morris didn't want, Hoss. The whole town was all fired up to get Morris. He feared a mob woulda hung him."

"And McCray?"

"Left on the stage on Saturday."

"You think he had anything to do with what happened?"

"No, Hoss. He was jest their high priced lawyer, paid for show. He promised to let me and Jonah know if he heard anything about Bat Thomas."

"Better for Adam and all of us that there wasn't a trial."

"I think that, too, Hoss. Now forget about it and marry that pretty little gal of yours and be happy."

"She is pretty, ain't she?"

"She sure is, Hoss. Yer a lucky man."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Red to black to brown to green to sickly yellow.  Thus was the progression of Adam's bruises.  The stitches and sticking plasters itched and Sara scolded him to keep his hands away from them. Doc Martin stopped by the ranch midweek to check on his progress.  He removed the bandage and looked at the gash on Adam’s forehead.

"It still looks a little raw.  Put some salve on it and stay out of the sun."

Adam looked in the mirror and frowned.  "I look like Frankenstein's monster."

Paul laughed. "You're right.  Best to keep away from young children, except your own, of course."

Adam groaned in frustration.

"You still have a couple of days for it to fade a bit.  Besides everybody knows what happened."

"What's the news from town?"

"Oh, that's right," he said as he patted his jacket pocket. "Jonah Crum asked me to give you this."

Adam glanced at the paper and squinted and pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted again.  "Damn.  The letters are jumping all over the page.  Could you read it to me?"

Soon he learned of the fate of those involved in the Silvercrest Mining scheme. Jonah wired Fuller and the Manhattan District Attorney when news of the explosion reached his office.  The New York Police acted quickly and shut down the Silvercrest Mining Company sales office. They seized all records and froze the bank accounts. Colonel Browne attempted to flee and was arrested at the West Street pier while boarding a ship to Canada.  Bat Thomas was still at large.  Adam reckoned he would turn up sooner or later but no where near Virginia City.

 

“There’s this one, too.”  Paul took the telegram from its envelope. 

 

“To my old confrere, I send my regards!  Relieved to hear news of your demise was premature!  Go get ‘em, cowboy!  M. Twain”

 

 “Twain?  I thought you two didn’t get along?”

 

“That’s ancient history.  Now, about Saturday.  Will I be able to go to the wedding?”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Pick five random folks walking on the boardwalks of Virginia City and ask them who is their favorite Cartwright and the answer would be Hoss.  If you’re asking for business advice, wanting to flirt, or to talk philosophically, you might get another answer.  But who is their favorite? Big-hearted, outsized, fair-minded, stick-with-you-through-thick-or-thin, best-by-your-side-in-a-fight – Hoss Cartwright.  That is why by Thursday the number of guests expected at the wedding shindig rose from fifty to one hundred to one hundred fifty, to whoever comes is welcome.

 

All the hands were involved in readying the Ponderosa for the wedding celebration.  The grassy area around the ranch house was scythed and posts were placed throughout from which to hang Chinese lanterns.  Large long tables capable of holding several dozen people each were set up.  Dinner would be served for hours. Four large steers were to be slaughtered for roasting. Lucy and Bruno Santini promised to bake the wedding cake and pastries.  Kegs of beer and hard cider and cases of champagne arrived and were stored in the ice house.

 

A platform for the wedding party and family was built and another for the band.  A dance was promised with fireworks to follow.  It wasn’t everyday that a Cartwright was married.  Adam had denied the town a proper send off when he married Sara quietly in Boston.  Virginia City was due for a blow out celebration for Hoss and Bridget.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

On Thursday morning Ben drove Bridget, Sara and Amy into town.  They were to have the final fitting of their dresses and attend a lunch hosted by Annie O’Toole at the International House. 

 

“Now Bridget, it’s just a little lunch for about a dozen or so of us ladies,” Annie assured her.  “After all you need to meet us before the wedding.  That way we’ll all be friends on Saturday.”

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Ben met Roy for lunch at the Santini’s restaurant.  Lucy seated them at the table in the window.

 

“People are mighty excited about the party, Ben.  Can’t say as I blame ‘em.”

 

Ben smiled with pride.  “I waited a long time for this day, Roy.  She fits right in with all of us. She’s the perfect girl for him.”

 

“And a darned pretty girl to boot.  How’s Adam feelin’?”

 

“Better every day.  Still walks pretty stiff-legged but he’s getting around.  I don’t mind telling you, Roy, I was afraid we’d lost him last week.  Damned fool thing for him to stick his nose into that mining mess when he has a family to raise.”

 

“Like father, like son, Ben.  You been known to go on a one man crusade yerself.”

 

“I guess you’re right about that, Roy. We all try to right a wrong when they see it. Just seems like Adam tends to risk paying too big a price.”

 

“Thank yer lucky stars, Ben, and enjoy that wedding on Saturday,” Roy advised him. 

 

“I will, Roy, I surely will.” 

 

Tony placed two large plates of lasagna on the table.  “Mama says you should try this.  It’s Hoss’s favorite. It’s on the house.”

 

“Thanks, son, and thank your mama for me,” Roy said. “You ever eat this before?,” he whispered to Ben as the boy walked away.

 

“Never.  It sure smells good.”

 

“Hoss won’t keep that weight off if he comes here too often.”

 

“Not good for our waistlines, either,” Ben answered. 

 

The two old friends laughed and tucked into their pasta.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

That evening at dinner Ben stood and proposed a toast. 

 

“This is our last dinner together before the wedding. I would like to propose a toast on this most happy occasion.   There must have been some magic in the air last summer when Sara and Hoss planned his Christmas visit to New York.  Little did I expect that when I agreed to that trip that all of our lives would change.  I would gain another daughter. Bridget would be become a sister to some of you, a dear aunt to others.  And for Hoss, he would finally find true love.  I am eternally grateful to welcome Bridget into the family.  Let us raise our glasses and toast Bridget, the newest Cartwright.”

 

Everyone stood, clicked their glasses and drank to Bridget.  She blushed deep scarlet and Hoss hugged her close.  He raised his glass and proposed a toast to Sara and Adam, the architects of his marriage.  Again they sipped champagne.

 

Ben spoke once more.  “They did such a wonderful job of matchmaking, I just may have to send Joseph to New York.”

 

“Not me, Pa.  I’m sending you,” Joe laughed.

 

“I just may go, young man,” he retorted and winked at Sara.  “I might find myself a new stepmother for you.”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Ben arranged a suite at the International House Hotel for Bridget, Sara and Amy for Friday evening.  It would make their preparations easier for the wedding the following morning.  It meant that there was a rare “stag” evening at the Ponderosa and Joe insisted that they all sit on the porch after dinner.  He brought out a bottle of single malt whiskey and four glasses.

 

“Hoss, I’ll admit, many was the time I thought you’d never marry.  You had a thing for “bad girls” who you wanted to reform,” Joe began.

 

“Bad girls?”

 

“Oh Hoss, Regan and Helen Layton.  Bad girls, not worthy of you,” Joe explained.

 

“And then there were the girls who were too needy, the ones you wanted to save from themselves,” Ben added.  “Margie and that mail-order bride….Lottie.  I was worried about your prospects as well.”

 

“What about you, Adam?  Did ya think I was hopeless?”

 

“I had my own problems finding the right girl.  Geez, I courted Laura Dayton!  What was I thinking?”  He took a big swig of whiskey, emptying his glass.  He poured himself another.  “We both have Sara to thank for ending our bad luck streaks, Hoss.   I was lucky enough to find her and she was an excellent matchmaker for you.”

 

“Better’n we were as matchmakers.  Joe and me almost had ya saddled with Abagail Jones,” Hoss roared.

 

“To our darling Sara,” Ben said as he raised his glass.

 

“To Sara,” they all replied and took a sip of whiskey.

 

The warm conversing and teasing lasted until almost midnight when Hop Sing stepped onto the porch.

 

“Go to bed.  You all have big headache in morning.  No eat breakfast.  Mrs. Sara and Mrs. Bridget be mad.” 

 

Ben stood and wobbled a moment.  “We have our marching orders boys.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The ceremony in the church was small, just family and their closest friends. Still Hoss was nervous as he stood at the altar awaiting Bridget’s arrival.

“Breathe, ya big ox,” Joe teased him. “You’re turnin’ blue.”

Hoss ran his finger inside his collar and sighed. “This is crazy,” he whispered to his brother. “It’s not like we ain’t already married.”

Joe placed his hand on Hoss’s shoulder. “That’s right. No reason to get worked up.”

Mrs. Wagner pumped the pedals on the organ and she began to play Mendelssohn’s wedding march. Hoss turned to face the back of the church.

Amy was first down the aisle, dressed in a pink organza dress. She carried a basket of rose petals and scattered them in the aisle. She quickly sat next to Ben in the first pew. Next came Sara in a champagne-colored gown with a dark rose sash. Joe met her at the altar and they stood to the side.

Finally, on Adam’s arm, Bridget entered the church. Hoss beamed as he watched them walk down the aisle. She wore an ivory satin gown with a full billowing skirt, trimmed in Belgian lace. She carried a bouquet of wild primroses and orange blossoms. She had chosen them to honor her new western home.

The ceremony was a blur for the bride and groom. On Father Manogue’s advice, they kept it simple. They relaxed as it began and recited their vows confidently. Father Manogue finished the vows by saying, “I unite you and bind you to one another.” He said a short blessing, and placed his hands on their shoulders and turned them toward the congregation.

“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, will you all join me in wishing health, happiness, and long life to Mr. and Mrs. Hoss Cartwright. May their path be smooth and steady. May they welcome children into their lives. And may they have many years together.”

The church broke out in applause.

“You may kiss your bride, Hoss.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As they neared the ranch house the band welcomed them. A crowd had gathered early for the party, which was planned to last all day and into the evening. Guests came on horseback, buggies and wagons. The Cartwrights rented wagons in Virginia City to provide rides to anyone who wanted to come.

The reception line was formed just in front of the house. As Ben had promised, anyone and everyone were welcome. The handshaking and congratulations were enthusiastic. Hoss accepted a kiss from Widow Hawkins and introduced her to Bridget. She moved on to greet Joe when Sara nudged Ben to warn him of her impending arrival. He wasn’t proud of his next action, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Ben pinched Jacob who let out a howl. Ben quickly excused himself from the reception line and headed into the house. He kissed Jacob, apologizing and fetched a cookie to calm him.

Roy greeted the couple with tears in his eyes. “It makes me so happy to see ya two together. Yer like a son to me, Hoss, ya know that,” he said pumping Hoss’s hand. “You treat this pretty gal well or ya’ll have me to answer to.”

The Santini’s hugged them both. “May you have many children,” Lucy said to Hoss. She continued her best wishes with Bridget. “You have a wonderful husband. May you be very happy.”

An hour later the line had not diminished. The fiddle player called out and addressed the crowd. “Ladies and gents, I know we all want to wish Hoss and Bridget personally, but it’s time we start this shindig. Let’s call ‘em out to the dance floor here and have the first dance.”

Hoss took Bridget’s arm and led her to a wooden “floor” that had been laid in the lawn. He was grateful that Sara and Joe had spent an evening practicing a waltz with them. He took Bridget in his arms and nodded to the fiddler who began to play. They whirled around the dance floor to the delight of the crowd. Then Joe took Sara’s hand and led her to the floor. Ben took Amy’s hand and they danced. Adam tapped Annie O’Toole’s shoulder and they joined in. Soon the floor was filled.

Ben danced with Bridget and Sara with Hoss in the next dance. Adam’s shoulder was still strapped so he only danced once more, with Sara during the next slow waltz.  Stuart gallantly danced with Sara and Amy before the young women of Virginia City swooped down to capture him. Peter did not go unnoticed either. 

Finally, the fiddler grinned impishly and the music changed to polkas and reels. Hoss and Bridget danced a few more rounds and then retired to the wedding party platform. There they ate and received guests. The band took a break when it was time for the toasts. One after another stood to speak, beginning with Joe and Ben, Roy, Senator Stewart, and then Adam.

“Most of you know what happened to me last week. Some of you,” he looked at Peter directly, “were instrumental in saving my life. Many of you kept me in your prayers. And I am most grateful to you all.”

“When I think of what I may have lost, I am humbled. I am a man with enormous riches. I have my wife and children, my father and brothers, and the newest family member, my sister-in-law, Bridget. I have dear friends and colleagues. What may have been lost forever last week in the abyss of that abandoned mine, has, instead, given me a better understanding of why we are here today.”

“We are here to celebrate the love that connects us.” He lost his composure for a moment and Sara took his hand and squeezed it. “I could have been lost forever, instead I have found my way home with the help of my family and friends. If it is true that every cloud has a silver lining, my ordeal taught me that my silver lining is here in front of me. Thank you all for being in my life.”

He raised his glass to the gathering. “Now join me in a toast to my brother Hoss and his bride, Bridget. And let us welcome her to the Cartwright family.”

Father Manogue raised his glass. “Bravo,” he said. “To the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. Hoss Cartwright!”

Hours later, as the moon rose, Hop Sing and his “nephews” presented their gift to Hoss and Bridget. They set the sky a light with fireworks. A fitting ending to a most marvelous day.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

After midnight, after the last guests had left, Sara sat at her vanity brushing her hair when Adam limped into the bedroom.

"You look exhausted, sweetheart. Do you need some help getting undressed?"

He nodded and plopped down on the bed. She removed his boots and tossed his socks in the laundry basket. Then she carefully removed the sling and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Don't fight me, I'll slip the shirt off."

He stood and she removed the shirt, tossing it in the basket as well. She gently replaced the sling to support his shoulder. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He stepped out of them and she hung them in the armoire. He moved slowly to his dresser and washed his face and torso and brushed his teeth. He winced slightly as he straightened up and made his way to the bed.

He lifted the covers and slowly got into to bed beside Sara, settling back against the pillows she had plumped for him. He sighed softly, relieved to be off his feet. She nestled close to him.

“It was a wonderful day, wasn’t it? Your speech was beautiful, sweetheart.” She rested her hand on his chest.

“I only hope that they will be as happy as we are,” he took her hand and kissed it.

“You looked very handsome,” she added.

“Even with my bruises and scars?”

“They give you character, Adam.”

“A little more ‘character’ and I can star in a circus sideshow.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“I mean it. I’m swearing off drinking for a year,” Joe mumbled the next morning. “Leastwise I’m not drinking champagne. Oh, what a headache!”

“More coffee?” Hop Sing offered.

“Yes, please, Hop Sing and keep it comin’.”

“Is Hoss coming down for breakfast?” Amy asked.

“Bridget and Hoss left after the party, sweetie. They went to the International House Hotel last night,” Adam answered. “They’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“It was a wonderful party, don’t you think?,” Ben asked. “Everyone had a good time. Some of us more than others,” he said with a wink to Amy as he leaned his head toward Joe. “What did Senator Stewart have to talk to you about, Adam?”

“The Pinkerton agents have located Bat Thomas.”

“That’s good news,” Sara said.

“Not really. He left before they could stop him. He’s on a boat to Chile.”

“Chile?”

“Gold mines, Joe.”

“Well, I wish they’d caught him but I guess his goin’ to the other side of the world is fine for now.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Epilogue: Two years later, August 1869

Bridget sat in the new bench swing Hoss had hung for her on the sunny back porch. Tipper, her dog, was at her feet dozing. She was snapping green beans for supper. The baby kicked hard and she placed her hand on her pregnant belly. “Soon, my boy, don’t be too anxious. You’ll be here soon enough.”

Sara called out from Bridget’s kitchen garden. “How many ears of corn do we need?”

“Hoss’ll eat at least two. I’d say seven for sure. Pick eight, and if there are leftovers, I’ll put the corn in muffins tomorrow morning. Pick some tomatoes, too, please.”

The screen door slammed and Jacob appeared. He climbed onto the swing. “Aunt Bridget, how come Amy got to go with Grandpa?”

“Oh sweetie, don’t be jealous. Grandpa wanted a special day with Amy before you all go back to New York. He took you fishing all by yourself on Sunday. Remember?”

“I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you take that piece of knotted rope and get Tipper to fetch it like Uncle Hoss showed you?”

Adam and Hoss rode in to barnyard beyond the garden and dismounted. They led their horses to the trough and let them drink their fill. They stripped to the waist and began to wash away the sweat and grime of the long summer day’s work. Sara stepped onto the porch and looked at Bridget, who was shading her eyes watching Hoss and Adam.

"Enjoying the view, Bridget?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Hmmm," Sara answered nodding, and she joined her sister-in-law in the swing. "Can't say that I blame you."

Adam lathered his hair, then he bent down to rinse his head under the pump. He shook his head like a puppy before reaching for a towel. Sara admired his lean muscular build. Bridget grinned as Sara sighed.

"Adam is looking good. He's lost his winter weight," Bridget said. "I wish my Hoss would follow his lead. We've both been eating for two this summer." She patted her distended belly.

She nodded as Adam and Hoss approached the house. “He’s lost that little potbelly that he gained this year.”

“I never had a potbelly,” Adam objected as he stepped on to the porch.

“Well, dear, you had the beginnings of one,” she said. “And it has disappeared over the summer.” She tapped his bare torso. “I brought a clean shirt for you. It’s on the bed inside.” She excused herself to start the corn and chop the tomatoes.

When she returned with tall glasses of iced lemonade, Adam and Hoss were buttoning their shirts. Adam left the collar open revealing the deep contrast of his tanned chest against the white shirt. "Thank you, darlin'," he drawled as he took the glass from her. She tipped her head up to kiss him and he obliged.

“It’s been a wonderful summer,” Hoss said. “The last summer it’ll just be us. Next year we’ll have a young’n to spoil.”

“Do you want a girl or boy?,” Adam asked as he sat and pulled Sara onto his lap.

“Bridget’s sure it’s a boy,” Hoss said settling next to her. He draped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

“Kicks like a bronco,” Bridget added, “I hope it’s a boy.”

 

 

The saga of Adam in New York and Ben’s visit there is continued by Just Desserts, found in the library.