Mistress
of the Ponderosa
(A Bonanza Romance)
by
Janice
Sagraves
Part II
This is entirely
for the enjoyment of Bonanza fans, and no infringement is intended.
15
The sky reminded
Jacoba of all the robin’s egg shells she had collected as a child. A few times
she had even found an intact one, but once they had started to smell, her
mother had made her throw them out. Soft white clouds drifted through it like
languid travelers in no great hurry to reach their destination. Jacoba allowed
her imagination to float away with them in a vain effort to wipe away memories
of the previous night, and earlier that very morning. It didn’t work.
“I think we should
stop here.”
Jacoba’s raven
eyes had found a cloud that looked like a cow, and it made her miss her old
friend Grace.
“Jacoba, come down
out of the clouds.”
The stern quality
of his voice brought her back to earth.
“We’re going to
stop here. I think we can all use the rest.”
“You don’t need to
on my account; we can go a little farther if you want to.”
“No, we’ve got
fresh water here and plenty of shade.” Adam brought his leg over the pommel and
slid to the ground. He put his hands on her waist and lifted her down. “So you
take these,” he handed her the saddlebags, “and pick out a suitable tree. After
I’ve taken care of Sport I’ll join you.”
She nodded and
watched him as he walked toward the stream with the big chestnut. On a heavy
breath, she turned and started toward a cluster of oaks. The one closest to the
water held the most appeal so she went to it.
By the time Adam
came to her with a fresh filled canteen, she had the food out of the pouch. He
sat on a rock, and she handed him a sausage-filled biscuit. He thanked her then
took a bite calculated to choke a bull. Jacoba only stared at hers.
“Don’t try to tell
me that you aren’t hungry.” He opened the canteen and took a swig to wash it
down. “It’s been hours since breakfast.”
“I just don’t seem
to have any appetite.” She looked up at him with saddened eyes. “I don’t see
how you can act as if nothing has happened. Adam, we have been driven from our
home.”
“I’m well aware of
that, but starving ourselves won’t change anything.” He snorted. “Little Joe
would just love that. And I thought you were the one that said you wouldn’t
give him the satisfaction.”
Her eyes turned
hard and cold as bits of coal. She raised her sandwich, and took her biggest
bite.
Adam grinned.
“That’s my girl.”
After they had
eaten they lingered in the coolness of the shade for a short time, but pleasant
as the spot was, they had to make it to the settlement before dark. So, he got
the horse, they mounted up and were on their way again.
This second stage
of the ride proved to be as silent as the first. Jacoba sat behind the saddle
with her arms locked around him as if her hold on him could erase the pain. Her
head rested against his back, and she watched the glorious scenery as it
unfurled around them. Sport splashed through a small creek, but she paid no
attention to the cool drops that wet her legs. She looked up at the sky. Oh,
how her heart ached. Then another kind of drops started down her cheeks, and
she closed her eyes in an attempt to seal them in. Her arms tightened around
him even more.
Adam thought she
would squeeze the breath out of him, but it was of small concern. He gave the
back of her hand a pat for reassurance. Then anger blazed up at the back of his
head as the image of his brother slapping her rose in his eyes. Never again
could he let that happen even if he had to give his life to prevent it. Even
against Joe. “We’ll soon be there.” He felt the grip of her arms tighten, and
still it didn’t matter.
It was late
afternoon when Sport ambled into the settlement. The sun had started down the
other side of the sky, and before long darkness would descend for its nightly
visit. Adam reined the horse up in front of the boarding house. Like the rest
of the buildings, it was weathered and worn and fronted by the porch covered
boardwalk.
He slid from the
saddle and wrapped a rein around the hitch post then helped Jacoba down. He
untied the carpet bag and handed it to her then slung his saddlebags over his
shoulder. The steps creaked as they went
up onto the porch, and their feet thumped as they crossed to the door. After a
short exchange of looks, Adam knocked.
After almost a
minute of interminable waiting, the door opened back to reveal a well-rounded
blonde in her mid-forties with gooseberry green eyes. Her hair was all the
fashion, but her clothes were somewhat dated.
A broad smile
beamed from the cherubic face of Miss Emily Prigg. “Come in, children, come in.
I’ve been all by myself since my boarders left for their work right after
breakfast, and I can surely use the company.”
“I hope you have a
vacant room.” Adam met Jacoba’s wary eyes. “We’re gonna need one for a while.”
“I do, Mr.
Cartwright, I do.” She ushered them inside and pushed the door closed. “Mr.
Treece left for
“Thank you, Miss
Prigg, but…”
She waved him off
with an airy hand. “Ahh, don’t be so formal. It’s Miss Emily, and if you’re
going to be my boarders I must insist that you have a little tea with me; just
to get acquainted.” Her girlish laugh circulated around them. “Acquainted, why
we’re already acquainted. Now I always keep hot water just in case folks come
by, so I’ll only be two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Better make that four.” She
laughed again and bounced into the kitchen. “Now do sit down.”
Neither Adam nor
Jacoba had ever been in the boarding house or even seen inside it before. And
in spite of Miss Emily’s instructions that they sit, they only stood there, and
drank in their surroundings. This wasn’t what either of them was accustomed to.
It came nowhere close to the austerity she had been raised in, and there was
nothing the slightest bit masculine about it.
Ruffled curtains
at the front window, fluffy pillows, a lot of knick knacks collected over the
years, small tables and an overstuffed settee and three mismatched chairs, all
in different floral fabrics, filled the fair sized room and competed for
attention. The dominant color was pink in varying shades, and, while it did
lean on the side of garishness, it was
clean.
Adam and Jacoba
took a seat on the settee, and one appeared to be as uncomfortable as the
other.
“Do tell me if you
are planning on staying very long,” came from the kitchen.
“We don’t know
yet, it kinda depends on how things work out. I hope there’s no problem.”
They could hear
the clink of china, and the rattling of pans.
“No, Mr.
Cartwright, no problem at all, simply a woman’s curiosity. I’m afraid I have a
terrible one and do tend to inquire about things that maybe I shouldn’t.” A
cupboard door slammed. “I was just sitting there with my tatting looking out
the window and hoping someone would come by. After my boarders leave it does so
get quiet and a little lonely, some times more than others. Of course, I can
always think of the times I had with Mr. Prigg, and that helps. After he passed
in ’48, I just simply couldn’t stay in
Miss Emily bustled
in with a tray with teapot, cups and saucers, spoons, creamer and honey
pitcher, and a plate of cookies. She put it all on a table covered by a lace
doily. “Men do liven up a place.”
Jacoba smiled for
the first time since that morning as her eyes darted to Adam. “Yes, Miss Emily,
they certainly do.” She reached out and squeezed Adam’s hand. “And please, Miss
Emily, I wish you would just call me Jacoba.”
Miss Emily grinned
with a nod of acknowledgement as she moved to her chair. Adam started to come
to his feet. “No, no, dear, stay put.” She sat down and started to pour the
tea. “I think you’ll like my molasses snaps. I have yet to get a boarder who
didn’t. This batch I baked fresh this morning. Do help yourself.”
Adam snagged a
couple and handed one to Jacoba. They each took a bite, and the way their faces
lit up left no doubt of the delectability of the delightful morsels.
Miss Emily’s mouth
spread as Adam took another handful. “I can always tell when folks like those,
and they don’t need to say a word.”
Adam and Jacoba
took a cup of the steaming, amber-colored brew, and fixed it to their own
tastes.
“I hope you don’t
mind canned milk. Fresh cream doesn’t keep so well in this heat.”
“Canned milk will
do just fine.” He poured it into his tea until it turned pale beige, then sat
the creamer back onto the tray. “Now, about the room…”
“No, no, dear, I
never talk business over tea. Tea is for visiting and getting acquainted.” She
giggled and took a demure sip. “There’s that word again.”
The young couple
relaxed under the gentle wanderings of their eccentric hostess. But all too
soon the impromptu little event and idle chitchat ended, and it was down to
business.
Miss Emily’s hand
ran along the smooth banister as she went up the stairs ahead of them. “I do
sometimes wish I had more than four rooms up here. So many times men come to me
only to be turned away.” She chortled. “I already have three to a bed. Mr. Treece, however, insisted on having his
room to himself, and I respected his wishes. Especially since he paid extra for
the privilege” She glanced back at Jacoba as she stepped onto the top landing.
“You’re my first wife, in fact, my first lady since coming here.” She led them
to the far right door, and opened it back. “This is it.”
Adam and Jacoba stepped
inside, and were very much surprised by what met them.
“I like color and
fuss, but here I only get men looking for a place to sleep and get their meals
cooked, and they don’t want all the frills. But I keep it clean, and there’re
no bedbugs. Breakfast’s at seven, dinner’s at noon, supper’s at five, and if
you get hungry in between I’ve always got something baked. It’s two bits for
the night, and three dollars for the week.”
“This’ll do just
fine.” Adam put the carpet bag down inside the room. He scrounged the money
from his inside vest pocket, and handed it to Miss Emily. “And here’s for two
weeks.”
Miss Emily began
to count it. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, dear, it’s just that it’s gotten
to be a habit. There’s been those that’s tried to cheat me; a woman alone,
don’t you know.” She snickered. “And wished they hadn’t. But I know better than
to think that of a Cartwright.” She put the money into a small, beaded snap
purse that hung from the waist band of her skirt. “I don’t understand why with
a big fine house like yours you would want to stay here. I run a nice place,
but I’ve heard of that house.”
Adam gave Jacoba a
side glance. “We haven’t been married long, and we just wanted to be on our own
for a time.”
Miss Emily’s
eyebrows rose, and one corner of her mouth pinched. “Well, your trouble at home
is none of my affair, and I didn’t mean to pry. I only hope that it isn’t so
bad that you can’t go back.” She patted Jacoba’s cheek.
“If you ever need
anything, you just let me know.”
Adam nodded. “We
will, and thank you for your kind hospitality.”
“Not at all, not
at all. I enjoyed every second of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get
started on supper.”
They watched as
Miss Emily went back downstairs, then Adam closed the door and turned to
Jacoba.
“We should have
known better that to try to keep anything from Miss Emily. I think she reads
minds.” Jacoba let her gaze rove over the drab room. It was simple and
unadorned with only a bed, night table, wardrobe, a natty old rocker and
grayish white walls. She felt a pang of homesickness for their room with its
warm earthy colors, and the enticing aroma of Hop Sing’s cooking as it wafted
up from the kitchen. “I hope she’s right. I hope it isn’t so bad that we can’t
go back.”
“So do I because
this is going to be home for a while.”
She turned around
and took him in her arms, and looked into those wonderful dark eyes that had a
way of soothing her soul when it was troubled. “Oh, this isn’t really so bad. I
once said that I could live in a cave as long as you were with me.”
His arms eased
around her. “It could come to that.”
“Then let it.
Nothing is so terrible as long as we’re together.”
“But if Joe…”
“I don’t know any
Joe. Right now it’s only you and me.”
She brought his head down and kissed the sternness from his mouth.
16
Rachel Martell was
in the loft when a knock came at the cabin door. “Now I wonder who on Earth
that could be.”
In no real hurry
she went down the ladder, but when she opened the door, her eyes widened almost
to popping.
“My Jacoba; Adam.
This is a treat I certainly didn’t expect. Both of you come in here right here
this instant.” She pulled her daughter inside, and Adam followed. Now she got a
better look at their faces, and it brought about a troubled frown. No one
needed to tell her that there was a problem, and it was like as not the reason
for their visit.
Adam removed his
hat. “I need to see Mr. Martell and the boys.”
“They went hunting
squirrel for supper, but they should be back before too long.” She took both
her daughter’s hands. “Jacoba, child.” She looked to her son-in-law. “Adam.”
“We had to leave
home, Mama.”
Rachel squeezed
Jacoba’s fingers. “Oh, my dear, tell me what’s happened.”
“I’ll lay it all
out when Mr. Martell gets back, and I want you to hear it, too.”
Rachel could see
that whatever the trouble was, it was very unsettling to them. She could only
guess, but she sensed that it had something to do with a member of Adam’s
family. And if anyone had asked her which one she would have said Joseph.
“Rachel, get the
frying pan ready,” boomed from the front yard.
Rachel gave her
daughter’s cheek a quick pat. “We’ll get through this whatever it is.” Then she
rushed outside.
Jacoba turned to
Adam and took a deep, ragged breath. “Papa’s going to be livid, and the boys
won’t be any better.”
“Well, now, I
can’t say as I’ll blame ‘em. When I saw Joe hit you,” he brushed his fingertips
over the spot where his brother had struck her, “I wanted to break him in two.”
He pulled her to him, and she rested her head against his chest. “You’re
mother’s right, we will get through
this.”
Nathan Martell
burst in, one of the Sharps gripped in his right hand, and three brace of
squirrels in the other. Only a small ring of copper outlined his eyes, and his
coloring more resembled parchment. Rachel and their sons came in behind him,
and the boys were as grim as their father.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Adam and the
Martell men sat in the dining chairs gathered around the dormant fireplace. Only
Isaac stood, his arm leaned on the sturdy oak mantle. They hung on every
syllable as Adam told them what had driven him and Jacoba from the big house.
Jacoba could see
the anger as it built in their faces. Isaac glanced at her, his black eyes more
of an intense violet. Since they were children, she had always noticed that
about him when he got mad. And over her it had never taken very much, so now to
hear that Adam’s little brother had hit his sister those dark, penetrating eyes
were as foreboding as she had ever seen them.
Matthew huffed. “But
you didn’t take him to accounts. If he’d hit my wife, even if he was me brother, I’d…”
“I brought her
here to her family where I knew she’d be safe and watched after when I wasn’t
around.” Adam looked to Jacoba and smiled.
Rachel could see
the love pass between them, a love that transcended hardships, and all the
other pitfalls incumbent in any union. A love like she had with her own dear
Nathan. And she knew it would endure for she also saw trust.
“You were meant
for a Martell, son.” Nathan slapped a huge hand onto his son-in-law’s back.
“Any one of us would’ve done the same. You marry a woman you take care of her
against whoever you have to; sometimes even your own.” Nathan shifted in his
chair. “You’re welcome in this house now more than ever.” He extended his hand.
Adam took it and
gave it a firm pump.
Lucas displayed an
air of pride in his new brother. “Anyone who’d give up what you have to protect
someone he loves it all right in my book.”
“Now, you’ll both
stay to supper.” Nathan brought his hand down hard on Adam’s back again. “We
had good hunting today, and there’s plenty.”
“We’ll stay.” Adam
gave Jacoba a quick look. “We haven’t had much to eat today, and I know that we
both need to be with family tonight.”
“Then that settles
it.” Nathan slapped his hands onto his knees and stood. “Now let’s go get our
game cleaned. It can’t very well be fried like it is.”
Esau smacked his
mouth as he followed them out. “I can just taste it now.”
“Well, if you think
you’re getting it all, boy,” Nathan shot back, “then you haven’t learned what
I’ve always tried to teach you. That age has its privileges.”
Jacoba went to
stand in the front doorway and watched as the men folk went off about their task
with robust banter and boisterous laughter. They weren’t, however, the only
ones that were the object of scrutiny. Rachel’s gaze stayed on her daughter and
ran over every inch of the girl. Something had changed, and a mother had an
idea what. And if she was right – as she suspected she was – then things had
gotten a bit more complicated.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Golden fried
squirrel with gravy, wild greens, cornbread with fresh churned butter and
buttermilk made up a meal fit for royalty. A pie of dried apples that Jacoba
had toted all the way from New England made for a satisfying end note, and the
only complaint came when they were too full to eat any more.
Afterward the male
contingent of the family retired back to the hearth, now ablaze with a roaring
fire to hold back the evening cool that had begun to settle in. After-supper
pipes were brought out all around, except for Adam who didn’t smoke and Esau
who hadn’t taken on the habit yet. And the topic of conversation soon drifted
away from what had happened to more masculine pursuits, though they kept it
tame, for the sake of feminine sensitivities.
Jacoba had taken
up her usual chore of drying the dishes as her mother washed, but her attention
was more on Adam than the bowl in her hands. This husband of hers fit right in
with her resolute, independent father and brothers. He sat in a chair between
Isaac and Esau, leaned forward with his wrists on his knees. Someone said
something funny, though she didn’t hear what, and Adam’s rich baritone laugh
came to her ears like music. He was deep into the discussion, and she was deep
into the thought of him. Her eyes roamed over his lithe, lean form; the long
legs and arms, the fine hands with their tapered fingers, the mouth that could
kiss away the problems of the day, and the dark, sultry eyes that could ignite
a fire inside her like nothing else. And he was hers.
A light touch on
her arm brought Jacoba back to the bowl, and she began to wipe hard and
vigorous with the towel.
“You don’t need to
rub a hole in it to get the water off.”
Jacoba gave her
mother a self-conscious glance as the rubbing slowed and became less intense.
“He is indeed a
fine young man.” Rachel turned back to the dishpan. “But then you have always
known that.”
“I’ve never
doubted it.”
“I can see that. When
you follow your heart, it’s hard to go wrong. I did, and look what I have. You
and Adam have a bright life ahead of you.”
Jacoba went still,
and her head bowed. “It doesn’t feel so bright right now.”
Rachel took her
daughter’s chin in her wet fingers, and raised the girl’s solemn face to her. “This
is a minor setback, nothing more, and you can’t let it control you more than
you absolutely can avoid. Life’s road is littered with all such manner of
obstacles to cause us to stumble, but we have to pick ourselves up and go on.”
Her eyes flicked toward the men. “But when you have someone to help you along
and who you can help in return, it doesn’t always seem so hard. I believe that
men and women weren’t intended to travel life’s journey alone. Some women, very
few, actually, choose not to marry, and I pity them their poor decision.
They’ll never know the joy of children, or have someone warm to curl up with
when the day is done.” She snickered. “To this day, your father still chastises
me for putting my cold feet on him.”
Jacoba’s mood
seemed to lighten. “I know, I’ve heard.”
“This will pass.
Maybe someday you will return to the big house, but even if you don’t, you’ll
have Adam, and you’ll make a home wherever he does, because he is your home. You’re both young yet, so
don’t let this taint the rest of your days together. It simply isn’t worth it.”
“I won’t.” Jacoba
looked at Adam. “I refuse to.”
“Good, now let’s
finish these dishes.
With a last glance
at her husband, Jacoba and her mother slipped into chitchat and gossip,
punctuated with the occasional giggle that they tried to keep from manly
hearing.
Adam looked over
at Jacoba as she chattered with her mother as Nathan and the boys talked around
him. The pain from yesterday and this morning had been placed in the background
where it belonged, though some of the ache lingered. He could never let
anything like this touch her again. She laughed like a child, a beautiful child
that it was his duty to protect, and he would go to whatever lengths were
required of him to see to that. A sharp poke in the arm accompanied by his name
drew his attention from her, at least for now.
17
Night had fallen,
deep and vast, when Adam and Jacoba left for the boarding house. The cool bite
to the September air hinted at what wouldn’t be long in coming. Unlike
An owl filled the evening
with its eerie, mournful hooting as Adam and Jacoba – his arm around her
shoulders – wandered down the path that led to the settlement.
“That had to be
the best meal I think I’ve ever eaten. Your ma’s a fine cook, but don’t you
ever tell Hop Sing that unless you want your husband brained with a skillet.”
“If I ever see him
again.”
He pulled her
tighter against him and kissed the top of her head. “You will. In fact, it
wouldn’t surprise me if he showed up with a basket of food someday. And even if
he doesn’t, Little Joe can’t keep us away forever, even if it’s only for a
visit. Pa wouldn’t allow it.”
“I can believe
that, and a visit would be nice, but
it wouldn’t be like living there.”
“Well, now, nobody
says that we havta live there. I can always build our own house, and we can
stay right around here where we’d be close to your family.”
“That would be
nice.”
He kissed her
again. “Of course it would. You know, you’re made of pretty stern stuff, but
then you’d havta be to be married to me. I can be a bit demanding at times.”
“So I’ve noticed,
but when it comes to that I can be myself, especially if I think I’m right.”
She pulled her head back and could just make out his form in the dim light.
“And I’m about to make a demand right now that you never stop loving me.” She
could tell that his head turned to her.
“I would like to
know where that came from. You know that my love for you is as much a part of
me as my hands and feet, which I could easier live without.”
“I just don’t want
you hating me because I caused you to leave your family and your home.”
He came to an
abrupt stop. His fingers bit into her shoulders as he turned her to him. “I
caused me to leave because of Joe, but I would be lying if I said you had
nothing to do with it.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “Pa
would never forgive me if I killed him, and last night I thought I could have.”
His voice softened, as did his hold on her. “You are the light and the soul of
my life, and I will not stand by and do nothing while anybody hurts what I
consider to be the best part of me, not even Joe.”
He went quiet and
still and she thought she could hear the beat of his heart, then she felt his
lips on hers, and her spirit cried out with joy. His arms enclosed around her,
and he buried his face in her hair. He kissed the back of her neck, and it made
a tingle run along her spine. Then he pulled back, and she knew he was looking
at her.
“You are my wife,
you will be the mother of my children, I plan that we will grow old together,
and if we havta go to the moon to do it, I will to protect you.” He pushed her
hair back from her face. “So I wish you would just get it through that thick,
beautiful head of yours that you are worth every sacrifice I havta make.”
“It’s just that I
have never had anything so fine as you, and I’m afraid…”
He put his hand
over her mouth. “Don’t be. I could no sooner stop loving you than I could stop
breathing, because either way I would die.”
She could hear the
smile come into his voice.
“Now let’s go to
our room.” His arm went around her shoulders again, and they started back along
the path. “I wouldn’t be much of a husband if I let you take a chill and get
sick, and your family wouldn’t think too highly of me either, not that I would
blame them. And besides that, I’m tired. We have a lot ahead of us, and we need
the sleep, so we’ll say no more about what’s behind us.”
She leaned her
head against him, and with that remained silent as they continued on their way.
The owl had no such compunction, and off in the distance a wolf decided to join
him. A more splendid night could not be asked for, and she wished she could
preserve this one for those times when she needed it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The room went dark
as Adam blew out the lamp then he climbed into bed and put his arm around
Jacoba. She snuggled close to him, and she used his full, broad chest as a pillow.
The coarse hair was rough against the side of her face with every breath he
took, but she wouldn’t move, even if she knew it would chafe her cheek raw.
It stayed quiet
until a blast came from the darkness.
“I’ve heard the
stories.” He felt her muscles tense, and her breathing quicken. “So have your
parents and brothers, but it was decided to keep them from you. They know
there’s no truth to them, and so do I. And I know why you married me. For the same reason I married you. If I’d
thought you were only after security or money or position or all of that we
wouldn’t be talking about this as husband and wife.” He could feel her warm
tears against his skin. “Joe’s a hotheaded kid who doesn’t always take the time
to think these things out. But I’m no kid. I knew exactly what I was doing when I asked you to marry me, and I don’t
regret it for one second. I hope you don’t.”
“I never could,
and I never will.”
“Then that’s the
end of it. No more will be said about those hateful stories that got started
the way something like that always does. An idea leads to a guess which leads
to a rumor and out of it comes gossip. I know you, and that’s enough for me.”
The room went
silent again. He held her tighter as his lips covered hers, and she felt as if
everything that had gone before dissolved with their touch. She let herself
fall into the exhilaration that came from just being near him. Just then Jacoba
didn’t care if she ever went back to the big roughhewn log house and the room
that had been their safe haven or not, she had him and that was enough.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacoba sat up with
a jerk and her hands clutched the soft, damp fabric at the front of her gown.
Her heart raced like a frightened animal’s, and she thought she might suffocate
on her own breath. One hand capped over her mouth and she looked in Adam’s
direction. She hadn’t awakened him, and for that she was thankful.
Her mind spun like
a top inside her head as it groped for the pieces of what had brought her awake
with such violence. It did no good, though. She couldn’t remember what she had
dreamt, but the fear it had left behind was like nothing she had ever
experienced. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t run the risk of disturbing
him. He would want to know what was wrong and, for the life of her, she
wouldn’t be able to tell him.
With a long sigh,
she lay back then turned onto her side so that she faced him.
“Jacoba.”
“It’s all right,
sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”
She put her arms
around him and stroked his heavy hair. But the closeness of him didn’t help as
she had thought it would; it only augmented the feelings that roiled around
inside her. Whatever it was, he was at the center of it that much she knew. Her
tears wet the pillow as her fingers continued to run over his hair. And way
down inside, a part of her hoped that she never remembered what had awakened
her. If it was as bad as she felt, she didn’t want to.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacoba sat on the
rough bench in front of the cabin in the pre-noon sun stringing the last crop
of green beans on thread with a needle for drying. Since she had taken her
seat, her mind had run to dark thoughts, and the beans, the house, and the
settlement could have been a trillion miles away for all she noticed. Her hands
hung motionless over the pan, her gaze fixed on the ground at her feet. Then
gentle pressure on her back made her head jerk up.
Her daughter’s
wide, trapped eyes startled Rachel. Her own child looked like a stranger, and
she had no idea why. True, Jacoba had been silent as a graveyard since Adam had
brought her before he had left, but Rachel had only thought it displeasure at
his leaving. “Child, you’re white as a sheet.” She placed a warm hand on
Jacoba’s cool forehead. “I’ve never seen you so pale, but you aren’t feverish.”
She sat on the bench. “I think maybe you should tell me what’s wrong. It’s not
like you to be so quiet unless something is troubling you.” Jacoba, her eyes
once again on the ground, didn’t move, she didn’t even seem to be in this
world. “Jacoba.”
“Mama, I have this
terrible feeling.”
“I know you don’t
like the idea of Adam working at the sawmill, but a man…”
“That isn’t it.”
She looked at her mother, and her eyes were even blacker and more bottomless.
“I feel like everything that I’ve known since I consented to be Adam’s wife is
in danger. It’s a sense that something is headed toward him – something I can’t
stop.”
Rachel pushed a
long raven lock back over her daughter’s shoulder. “You seemed all right at
supper evening last. Tell me how long you’ve felt this way.”
“I woke up last
night, I don’t know how long I had been asleep or what time it was, and it was
there. It was just there. I didn’t know what it was; just that it frightened me
to death.”
Rachel’s brows
arched. “I don’t suppose you’ve told Adam about this.”
“No, I haven’t
told anyone until now.” Jacoba felt like an icy hand had just gripped her, and
she shivered. “I try to shrug it off, but I can’t. Every time I think I have,
it comes back darker than ever.” She reached out and grasped her mother’s arm.
“Mama, please promise me that you won’t tell Adam or Papa and the boys. They’d
think I’m only being silly, and maybe I am.”
Rachel took her
hands. “I don’t think you’re being silly at all. I’ve had times when I’ve felt
the same way, and it’s always seemed strongest when I was with child.”
It was as if
Jacoba had just swallowed a thousand moths that all fluttered in her stomach at
once. Her mother had just confirmed what a secret part of her had already
known, and she was relieved.
“I’ve known almost
from the first moment I saw you yesterday.” She laid a gentle hand on her
daughter’s breast. “This is one of the first places you notice it, and I think
a Mother always knows.” She snickered. “It got so that your father did, too.”
“I wonder if he
knows this time. He hasn’t said anything to me if he does.”
“He mentioned it
to me last night after you and Adam had left, but your brothers have no idea,
and we won’t tell them. I imagine that Adam is delirious. Your father was
beside himself when I told him I was with our first.”
Jacoba ducked her
head. “I haven’t told him.”
“You haven’t…?”
Rachel caught herself before she finished the question. She raised her
daughter’s face to her. “I can’t understand why not. You can’t possibly be
afraid that he won’t be happy about it, not that young man.”
“No, it’s nothing
like that.” Jacoba batted back tears. “I know
he wants children, but the way things are now, with him trying to get work
and to keep a wife, I just don’t want to add to his worry.”
“Oh, Jacoba, now
you are being silly. He should know
that he is going to be a father. This is a special time to share with each
other. No matter how many children you have together, there will only be one
first. And it’s not like you can keep it hidden for very much longer. Try to
imagine how he is going to feel then.”
Jacoba’s eyes
snapped fire. “I’ll tell him, but I’ll tell him when I’m ready, and not before.” Her regret was instant, and she threw
her arms around her mother, the pan, beans and all, being precipitated to the
ground. “Mama, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, but I just
can’t get away from last night. I can almost see…” She couldn’t let herself
finish, it was too terrible to put into words.
“I remember when I
was carrying Lucas, I got it into my head that my young husband would die
before the baby came, and no one could talk me out of it. I knew that he would
never see his first-born child, and we both know that that was twenty-nine
years ago.”
Jacoba sat back
and her eyes drank in her mother’s face like someone dying of thirst as Rachel
wiped away her daughter’s tears that had managed to escape.
“Now, those beans
would go a lot faster if I helped.”
Jacoba smiled, but
her heart wasn’t in it. As much as she wanted to believe all that her mother
had just said to her, she couldn’t. “I would like that very much.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
After a fine
supper of chicken and dumplings, it didn’t take much coercion from his father-
and mother-in-law for Adam to take Jacoba outside to enjoy the evening. They
had been parted all day, and a
Nathan and Rachel
watched from the open doorway as the young couple moved along the edge of the
clearing.
“I hope she tells
him tonight. This would be the ideal time.”
“Well, if she does,
or if she doesn’t it’s her decision to make. This is between them, and it’s not
for us to put in.” Nathan put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Now let’s
go and leave them to themselves. Besides, I want another piece of pie if the
boys have left any.”
They turned back
into the cabin, and he closed the door behind them.
Jacoba was silent,
somber and pensive as they walked her hand in his. She couldn’t chase away the
nagging premonition that something ominous now headed toward her husband. Worst
of all, she could do nothing to stop it, and maybe she couldn’t even if she
knew the source of the peril. But one thing was for certain – she would know it
when it came.
“You haven’t heard
a word I said.”
It dawned on
Jacoba that they had stopped, and he had turned her to him. A tender hand
cupped her chin, and she found herself looking into a dark, disturbed face in
the fast waning light.
“You’ve been quiet
as a church mouse ever since I got back. You haven’t said over a half dozen
words, and that just isn’t like you.” The last rays of the departing sun caught
in her eyes, and he saw something there that spoke of silent torment. “Tell me
what’s wrong. If I’ve done something…”
“You’ve done
nothing. It’s just been a very long day, and I have so missed you. And I think
that just made me want to see Pa and Hoss and Hop Sing all the more. I’ll get
over it in time.”
He wasn’t sure if
he was ready to believe this, but a tiny voice whispered to him not to push too
hard. “I still feel like maybe there’s something you’re keeping from me.” His
eyes flicked toward the cabin. “Maybe somebody has said something to upset
you.”
“No, only Mother
has been here with me, and she has been nothing but supportive.” Jacoba’s
senses soaked him in, and the thought of losing him she feared would drive her
crazy. Then the sudden weight of everything came crashing in on her, and she
threw her arms around him. “Oh, Adam, hold me. Hold me and don’t ever let me
go. Stay with me forever.”
“Something is wrong. Tell me what it is.”
“Please, Adam,
don’t ask me any more. Just keep me safe with you.”
The melancholy
call of a whippoorwill only added to Jacoba’s sense of loss as the sun at last
dipped below the rim of the hills to leave a molten blush in the sky that at
once began to fade. She had never felt more alone, helpless or afraid in her
life, and Adam’s nearness only seemed to augment those feelings as much as she
tried to seek solace in it. They stood there enclosed in each other’s arms as
the cloak of night descended around them, and she closed her eyes as she
listened to the love that beat within his chest. Her hold tightened on him, and
she felt his do the same. It can’t end so
soon, it just can’t, she thought. And the tears started.
18
Eleven days had
passed since that night on the ridge. Nothing had happened – Adam left for his
new job at the sawmill every morning and came home right before suppertime.
Jacoba’s uneasiness had waned, but still continued to haunt a secret niche in
the back of her mind like a restless apparition. Adam still didn’t know that he
had a family on the way, and Jacoba knew that her mother didn’t approve of her
secrecy, but said nothing about it to her. The looks were enough.
Jacoba didn’t feel
so well after breakfast so she went back to her and Adam’s room. For the past
four or five mornings she had been a bit more nauseous than usual, but this one
was different. The churning in her belly had worsened by the time she closed
the door behind her, and she didn’t think she would make it to the bed. Miss
Emily was a very good cook, and Jacoba had enjoyed the bacon and scrambled
eggs, but now they seemed to be battling it out inside her. She could feel them
move around beneath her hand, and she wished she had stopped with the first
helping. Better still, she wished she hadn’t eaten at all.
She lie back on
the bed and let her feet rest on the floor, but she found out that that wasn’t
such a good idea as it only seemed to agitate the contents of her already
restive stomach. Now everything surged up into her throat, and she thought she
might strangle on it. She slid off into the floor onto her knees and pulled the
chamber pot from under the bed. She had only just gotten her head over it when
her breakfast rushed up and out her mouth. Her muscles constricted, and her back
arched as she retched, the fingers of her right hand wound in the worn, faded
quilt. Again she heaved, and the thought of death flitted through her mind as
being preferable to this.
The pounding at
the door didn’t reach Jacoba’s ears. When she didn’t answer it ceased, and Miss
Emily came in and rushed to her as she continued to vomit. Without a word the
woman got down and put a hand against Jacoba’s forehead, and an arm around the
girl’s middle to help her through it. “Atta girl, get rid of it all.”
Jacoba’s next
retch was dry, her stomach was empty, and she felt exhausted as any human being
could ever be and remain alive. Her body relaxed, and she slumped back in Miss
Emily’s lap, puffing with little beads of sweat on her face and neck. Miss
Emily took a lace-edged handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped away the perspiration.
Jacoba looked up,
and her raven eyes were swallowed by liquid green as a benevolent smile wrapped
itself around her like a warm, comforting blanket. Her breathing started to
ease, as did her queasy stomach, but she was afraid that if she moved it would
only go off on another rampage.
Miss Emily ran her
fingers back through Jacoba’s damp tresses. “You look better than you did.”
“I think maybe I’m
feeling a little better, too. My stomach seems to be calming down some.”
“It usually does
when you empty up that way.”
“It wasn’t the
food. I think I may be coming down with something.”
“I’d guess the
same thing your mother did five times.”
Jacoba thought she
would slip out of her skin. She looked beyond the woman’s wry grin and realized
– to her horror – that Miss Emily knew. This was one secret that it was getting
harder and harder to keep. “Please don’t tell anyone. Adam doesn’t know yet,
and I would hate for him to find out that way.”
“Don’t worry,
dear. They couldn’t drag it out of me with wild horses. Now let’s get you out
of this hard floor.”
Jacoba nodded, but
she hated the idea of trying. She was more than content to stay in the comfort
of Miss Emily’s ample lap, and she dreaded what could come when she moved. With
help, she sat up, and working together they got her onto the bed. Her tummy
rebelled, though only a tiny bit, but was quick to resettle itself.
Miss Emily propped
her back against the pillows – well plumped, of course – and brought the quilt
up over her feet and legs. “There, now you just lay still and get to feeling
better, and I’ll be back with a cup of nice hot tea.” She pushed Jacoba’s hair
away from her face, then picked up the chamber pot and left with it, leaving
the door ajar.
Jacoba took in a
deep breath, and it only aggravated her stomach a trifling, probably because
there wasn’t anything left to aggravate. She wanted to stretch her bunched and
tired muscles, but she feared the action might set something off again – though
she didn’t know what – so she just relaxed and let herself sink back into the
pillows.
She was glad to be
here at this time with her mother and Miss Emily instead of a household filled
with men. Anyway, she told herself that, but she had to work at convincing
herself. She missed Pa, Hoss and Hop Sing so much that it threatened her with
tears. She could just see Hop Sing bustling around in one of his ever famous
dithers, and it produced a smile.
Then an image of
Adam’s wonderful face came to her as she tried to imagine it when she told him
about the baby. She visualized the smile that he seemed to reserve only for her
and the dark eyes as they twinkled with joy. He would be happy about it, she
knew this without reservation. That had nothing to do with the reason why she
hadn’t told him yet, whether anyone else chose to believe it or not.
As she laid there,
contentment running through her like warm, sweet honey, she became aware of a
commotion outside. Someone had ridden in – as it seemed to her – in a great
deal of hurry. Then, after what she figured to be a reasonable interval, she
heard a frantic knocking then the front door opened, followed by a muffle of
voices downstairs. Something told her that she needed to know what was going
on, so with some effort, she pulled herself up from the bed. If it disturbed
her stomach she didn’t notice. Even as she drew closer to the door she couldn’t
make out who she heard since the voices were too low, though she did guess one
to be Miss Emily.
Jacoba eased out
into the hall. When she reached the head of the stairs she saw her mother in
muted conversation with Miss Emily just inside the front door. For some reason,
her heart jumped, and her fingers dug into the railing. “Mama.”
The look on the
women’s faces when they saw her sent trepidation speeding through Jacoba like a
turbulent spring flood. She wanted to cry out, she wanted to run, and she
wanted to not see her mother’s eyes. She heard someone saying no over and over,
and it was slow to register that it was herself saying it.
Rachel started up
the stairs toward her. Jacoba wanted to back away, but her feet felt nailed to
the floor and wouldn’t budge. Her hand squeezed on the railing while the other
clenched into a fist as tears clouded her vision. Her mother spoke her name,
but Jacoba didn’t even want to hear that.
Rachel took her
daughter’s face in loving hands. “Jacoba, there has been an accident at the sawmill.”
“No.” Jacoba
wanted to get away so she couldn’t see the pain in her mother’s eyes. “No.”
“Jacoba.”
But Jacoba
couldn’t make herself listen.
“Jacoba,” Rachel’s
tone was firm but gentle, “it’s not Adam. Listen to me, it’s not Adam. He’s safe. Adam’s safe.”
Jacoba continued
to try to pull away as overwhelming fear blocked common sense.
“Pete Radcliff was
killed and Martus Hill was badly injured, but Adam wasn’t hurt. He’s all
right.” Rachel took hold of her daughter’s shoulders and gave the girl a shake.
“Adam is all right and he’ll be home
in a little while.”
At last it broke
through to Jacoba that her husband hadn’t been killed. “He’s all right.” One
hand went to her mouth. “He’s coming home.”
“Yes, child, he’s
fine, and he’ll be with you before too long.”
Jacoba’s gaze searched
her mother’s face for the truth, and she found it in the black eyes that looked
back at her. She flung her arms around her mother’s neck, and let relief wash
over her like a pure mountain stream, and she began to weep.
Jacoba had never
been one to cry that much, even as a little girl, until love had made her
vulnerable. Rachel had seen it happen before, and now it had happened to her
own daughter, and it made her glad. Glad to know that Jacoba had found the kind
of love worth fretting over, and fearing the loss of. The kind of love that made
a woman complete and a mother glad.
“It’s all right,
child.” She patted her daughter’s back. “Everything’s all right.”
Miss Emily stood
at the foot of the stairs. “I think you should go home with your mother, dear.
And if Adam comes here first I’ll send him to you.”
Rachel smiled.
“Home will be the best place to wait for him.”
“All right, Mama.”
They went down to
into the entryway, and Miss Emily gave Jacoba a smile and a pat of
encouragement, then the young woman and her mother went out together.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacoba sat on the
stool before the stone hearth in the Martell family cabin, her eyes fixed on
the fire that crackled in the grate. The pungent aroma of sage scented the
steam that rose from the contents of the cup clasped in both her hands. Since
she and her brothers were very young, her mother had used sage in hot milk with
a pinch of salt to quell sick stomachs. It tasted awful, but it had always
worked. She took a sip, and this time she didn’t even notice.
From what Jacoba’s
mother had overheard, the rider said some logs had broken loose and rolled onto
the two men before they were able to get out of the way. Her father and
brothers had gone back with him to help out, while her mother came to the
boardinghouse. She took an oblivious sip. Jacoba knew that Pete Radcliff wasn’t,
by mercy, married, but Martus Hill had a wife and three young daughters with a
baby on the way. She looked down at herself and rubbed a hand over her belly.
She understood how Mrs. Hill must feel. What she had felt when she thought she
had lost her own dear Adam she couldn’t explain and hoped never to experience
ever again.
Rachel watched
Jacoba while she mixed what would be dessert for that night’s supper. She had
never seen her daughter in such a state as she had been at Miss Emily’s. In
retrospect, it disturbed her to think of what Jacoba would be like if, Heaven
forbid, something should take Adam.
It must have been
an hour or close thereabouts, when the sound of horses out in the yard drew two
sets of raven eyes in that direction. Jacoba’s wordless pleas drew a nod and a
smile from her mother. Rachel crossed to the door as she wiped her hands on her
apron then opened it back.
The men had
dismounted, and were started back toward the barn when Nathan’s sight caught
with his wife’s, and he read the meaning there. He took Sport’s reins from
Adam. “I’ll take care of your horse, but I think you need to stay here.” Then
he went off after his sons.
When Adam turned
back around, Jacoba stood beside her mother. She started to tremble as her eyes
connected with his. He was dirty and his face sweat-streaked and he was the
most beautiful thing she had even seen. She didn’t know if she should walk or
run to him. A nudge from her mother made up her mind. With a timorous moan,
Jacoba ran and threw herself into his arms. His eager lips smothered hers, and
she surrendered to them. Then his hands were on her neck, and he brought her
head back and looked deep inside her.
Rachel couldn’t
make out the soft words between them as she watched from the doorway, but she
paid close attention to Adam’s face. She saw the wonder and light come into his
dark hazel eyes, and the corners of his fine mouth turn. With a sudden whoop
that split the stillness like an axe, he jerked his hat off and threw it into
air. It made Rachel laugh as she recalled her Nathan doing the same thing.
Like the striking
of a match, the yard filled with Martell sons, followed at a more languid pace
by their father.
Adam turned to
them, his arms still around Jacoba, before they could say a thing. “I’m gonna
be a father.”
In an instant,
Jacoba’s clamorous brothers were all over them. Adam got the hearty backslaps and
vigorous handshakes, while she thought she would be hugged and kissed to death.
Then her father joined them and it was to be gone through all over again.
Once the
well-wishing and near beatings ceased Adam scooped Jacoba into his arms and
held her close to his chest.
“Adam, I’m not
helpless, I can walk.”
“I know, but I
like it this way.”
“Let him alone,
girl. It’s not everyday a man finds out he’s gonna be a father for the first
time.”
“All right, Papa.”
Jacoba nestled her head against Adam’s neck. “Anything he wants.”
“Now let’s get
into the house.” Nathan sniffed the air. “I smell biscuits, and after a day
like this a man could eat a barn.” He slapped an arm around Lucas’ shoulders.
“I think this calls for a jug of that hard cider to be broke out.”
“That will give me
reason to bring out Grandma Ridgeway’s cordial glasses.” Then Rachel turned and
went back into the house.
Jacoba felt so content in Adam’s arms as he followed her father and
brothers toward the house. Oh, how good life was, and how good it would be. She
wanted to sing. There would never be another night like this, and she would
live every second for the sheer joy of it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
That night after
supper the family gathered before the blazing hearth. The flames snapped and
crackled with wild abandon as if to join the celebration. Adam and Jacoba sat
to themselves as guests-of-honor. Each delicate crystal glass was filled with
the cider, half way for the women, but to the rim for the men.
Nathan, as head of
the clan, stood. “I knew that if I had to wait for one of my rapscallion sons
to marry and give me a grandchild, I’d have a long wait.” The room filled with
hearty male laughter. “But girls are more stable, and I’ve got my Jacoba.”
Adam put an arm
around Jacoba, and kissed the side of her head. She could feel the pride and
love that radiated from him as she leaned into his hold. This night – surrounded
by so many of the good things that life could offer – would go into her mind’s
memory book for safe keeping.
“And also to the
newest member of the Martell family that I am proud to call son. I hope that
this child is the bright light for them that ours have been and always will be
for us, and only the first of many. Adam and Jacoba, may your love last and
endure in your children. And may they carry the legacy that you give them into
their lives, and into the lives of their own children.”
“Hear, hear,” rose
from Jacoba’s brothers as glasses were raised and emptied, except for the
ladies, who sipped.
Nathan sat down,
and another round was poured then Lucas came to his feet. As the eldest, he
always went ahead of his brothers. “Adam, you have been my friend for almost as
long as we’ve been here, but even at that I wasn’t sure you were right for my
sister. I was wrong.” His eyes went to Jacoba. “And she knew it long before we
did because she listened to her heart. I know this isn’t much of a toast, but
I’ve never been as good at that as Pa so I’ll just come out and say that I wish
you all the happiness.”
Glasses were
emptied and refilled again, and Isaac stood. “Jacoba, I won’t even try to put
into words how I feel right now because mere words would be inadequate to
express it. So I will just say that I know this baby will grow into a fine
human being by virtue of having both of you as his or her parents.”
Loud agreement was
followed by the downing of more of the hard cider. Rachel rolled her eyes back
in her head. It had started.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
After each male
member of the family had given his toast, Jacoba and her mother had retreated
up to the loft. The intention had been for girl talk and to leave the men to
their own devices, but it didn’t quite work out that way. They sat at the edge
of the floor – far enough back so that the darkness obscured them, but they
could still see down – and watched as glasses were dispensed with. Mannish voices
were kept low as the jug was passed around so as not to offend the ladies. But
between six a second jug soon became necessary, and Mathew ran to get it.
Now things really
started to get carried away. Caution was thrown to the wind as the liquor began
to take full effect, and the talk became ever more raucous and loud. Jacoba and
Rachel leaned against each other in the throes of furtive giggles. Jacoba
hadn’t known that Adam and Isaac had such mouths. Even young Esau would not be
outdone. Black eyes flashed to black eyes in what scant light rose up from
downstairs as mother and daughter stored up ammunition for future extortion.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had just passed
ten o’clock when Jacoba rounded in at the boarding house with her very
inebriated husband. She had her hands full in just trying to get him up on the
porch, and once they came close to falling off the steps.
“Adam, do try not
to be so loud. It’s late and people are trying to sleep.”
“I’m not loud,”
his voice rose, “they’re too quite.”
“Adam, please, I
would hate for someone to come out here and shoot you.”
He weaved as she
steered him across the weathered planks of the boardwalk. She had just reached
out to knock when light peeped through the cracks in the curtains then the door
opened to reveal Miss Emily – still clothed – with a lamp.
“I’m terribly sorry,
Miss Emily, but I’m afraid he’s had too much to drink. I’m sorry to disturb
you.”
“No disturbance at
all. I was in the kitchen just about to fix my usual bedtime tea.” Miss Emily
watched him as his young wife tried to hold him up, and the corners of mouth
turned. “You told him.”
“Yes, and I didn’t
know a man could drink so much hard cider.”
“Oh, yes, my dear,
all men seem to have abundant space with it comes to alcoholic spirits.” Miss
Emily helped Jacoba ease him into the house then closed the door. “Now I’ll
help you get him up to bed.”
They tried to be
quiet as they both worked to get him up the stairs so as not to awaken the
sleeping boarders. But they both knew that keeping a drunken man quiet was like
catching smoke in a bottle.
Once they got him
to the room they had to lead him to the bed.
“I can take care
o’ myself.”
“Yes, dear, we
know you can,” Miss Emily said with a hidden grin, “but we all need help every
now and then.”
She took his hat
as Jacoba removed his gun belt then eased him back onto the bed.
“I bet you didn’t
know, Miss Emily, that I’m gonna have a baby.”
Jacoba fought hard
not to laugh, and it was killing her. She pulled off one boot.
“Yes, dear, I
know, and I hope it isn’t twins because I don’t think you could handle it.”
“A baby, I’m gonna
have a baby.”
Jacoba removed the
other boot and put it in the floor next its mate then pulled the quilt from the
other side over him. He didn’t notice, however, because by this time he was
sound asleep.
“Oh, is he going
to have a head in the morning.”
Jacoba stifled a chuckle.
“He won’t be the only one. Mama has five to put up with.”
“He probably won’t
move all night. Maybe you would like to come down and have a cup of tea with
me. We can talk before you turn in.”
“I would like that
very much.” Jacoba leaned down and kissed him on the forehead and smoothed back
his tousled hair. “I won’t be long.” But he didn’t hear her.
They got as far as
the door and stopped and looked back at him, snickered then left the room.
The soft glow of
the lamp preceded the two women as they made their way down the stairs then
back to the kitchen.
Miss Emily sat the
lamp on the cabinet near the stove. “I hope you don’t mind cinnamon tea.”
“I adore cinnamon
tea. If there is anything I can do just let me know.”
“No, dear, I only
need to add the hot water, and then let it steep for a few minutes. Do take a
seat. Maybe you would like some of my snaps.”
Jacoba pulled out
a chair at the table and sat. “Just the tea will be fine.”
“I wouldn’t be too
angry with him.” Miss Emily took two cups from the breakfront and put on the
tray beside the kettle. “Men do like their liquor, and when they have an excuse
like this they do tend to over indulge.” She brought the things to the table.
“Not that they ever need an excuse.” She sat across from Jacoba then proceeded
to pour. “And they always pay for it the next morning.”
“I’m not angry at
all.” Jacoba took the offered cup and stirred honey into its contents. “What I
thought was going to be the darkest day of my life has turned into one I’ll
never forget, and wouldn’t even if I could. And to watch and listen to Adam and
my father and brothers was way too much fun to get mad at them for.” She took a
sip then reached out and patted the back of Miss Emily’s hand. “I have been
meaning to thank you for today. You’ve become a special friend, and I’m so glad
you were here.”
“You’re sweet.”
Miss Emily poured a dollop of milk into her cup. “Mr. Prigg used to tell me
that I had a knack for being in the right place at the right time.”
“It must be hard
being without him.”
“It is, but I get
on better than I thought I ever could. I guess he taught me that.” She shook
her head. “I’ve always been of a restless nature, but with him I felt anchored
and didn’t really feel the need to move around. Then when he passed away I felt
that need to move on again. I suppose that is why this is the twelfth boarding
house I’ve had in the ten years since he left me, and each one in a different
place.”
“Well I’m so glad
you came here. You were very needed today.”
A wicked glint
flitted into the woman’s pale green eyes. “And tonight.”
“Especially
tonight. I never could have gotten him up those stairs by myself.”
“Here’s to men.”
Miss Emily held her cup aloft. “They have trouble keeping up with us, but it’s
so fun to watch them try.”
“To our husbands.”
They clinked their
cups together then took a good drink. For a few seconds it remained silent then
their muted schoolgirl laughter drifted beyond the halo of the lamplight that
surrounded them.
19
Adam felt like
someone had hit him in the head with a branding iron, more than once. He didn’t
usually drink that much, but each time the jug had been passed to him; he
hadn’t been able to turn it away. The few times he had tried his in-laws had
been very insistent, and then it had gotten to the point where he didn’t care. He
tried not to groan as he finished putting on his boots.
Jacoba ran a brush
through her long raven locks as she looked out the window into the approach of
dawn. “Breakfast smells like bacon and sausage this morning.”
Adam felt his
stomach flip at the notion of food, but he didn’t let on. What he couldn’t do
with a little hair of the mangy cur that had bitten him.
She laid the brush
on the night table then began to work her hair into a braid which she would allow
to dangle down her back. When she turned around, for the first time she noticed
how pale he looked. His eyes reminded her of those of a sick child. “Adam, sweetheart,
you look like a cadaver. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to stay here
today.”
“No, I’ll go to
work. Maybe a tree’ll fall on me, and I’ll feel better.”
The feelings of
the day before came storming back, and her fingers knotted in her hair. “I
really wish you wouldn’t say things like that, even in jest.”
“I never said I
was jesting. A bullet would be better than this.” He rubbed one temple. “This
is why I don’t drink that much at one time.” He reached out and put a hand
against her cheek, and managed a feeble smile. “But it doesn’t diminish why I
let it get out of hand. And there’s no reason to believe it won’t happen again
and again.” Then his face set into a pensive mask, and he took her shoulders in
his firm fingers.
She could always
tell when he had something serious on his mind, and this time she dreaded to
hear what it was.
“Last night, after
you told me about the baby and before I got myself too swozzle-eyed to think
straight and again this morning I’ve been giving a lot of thought to
something.” He eased her down onto the side of the bed then sat beside her. “I
want to know what you would think about returning home, I mean back to Pa and
Hoss. You needn’t worry about Little Joe, I’ll manage him.”
“If this is what
you want.”
“We’ll only go if
this is what we both want.”
It took less than
a second for her to think about it. “Oh, yes, Adam, I do want to go back. I
adore it here with my family, but that is where we belong. I didn’t want to go
in the first place, and I love you all the more for why you did it, but I want
to go home.”
“Then it’s all
settled. I’ll finish out the week at the sawmill, and then on Sunday we’ll go
back.” One side of his mouth crooked into a half grin. “I hope you can last
four days.”
“I have no choice,
but I’ll be on pins and needles until Sunday.” Then she threw her arms around
him.
A knock
interrupted their moment, and his eyes closed into a grimace. He dragged
himself to answer it, and Jacoba followed as she finished with her hair.
“Good morning,
children. I just came to tell you that breakfast is ready. Everyone else is at
table, so you’d better hurry if you want to get anything.”
The deep corners
of Adam’s mouth turned down, and his nose wrinkled. “No thank you, Miss Emily.”
He took his hat and gun belt from the peg by the door. “I don’t feel much like
food this morning. I’m just gonna go on to the mill, and maybe I’ll have a cup
o’ coffee when I get there. Now I know I can trust you to watch after Jacoba.”
He gave Jacoba a light peck on the cheek. “Now please do excuse me. I havta get
to work.”
They watched after
him as he beat a hasty retreat down the stairs.
Miss Emily shook
her head. “Poor, dear. I can remember seeing Mr. Prigg in just such a state the
first few years of our married life before he came to his good senses. The
smell and mere mention of food is enough to drive their stomachs crazy.” She
snickered. “But he’ll recover. They always do so they can do it all over again.
It’s almost like their memories become defective, and they forget the resultant
misery of these splurges.” She took one of the girl’s arms. “Now you had better
come down before those big swells eat up every bite on that table.” She gave a
tug, and they started for the staircase.
“And I have
something to tell you.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was right after
the midday meal – which she had only picked at due to another bout of morning
sickness – when Jacoba left the boarding house. She had visited with Miss Emily
longer than intended and it had put her behind in getting to her family’s
cabin.
She pulled her
shawl closer around her against the autumnal chill as she went down the steps
into the street. A deep draught filled her lungs with the spicy, pungent nip of
the season, and her eyes drifted to the clear blue sky. It had turned into
another splendid day in the Sierras.
Her mind stayed
among the clouds as she started across the street. As she did she became aware
of what appeared to be the thump of hooves. Then someone called her name with
great excitement. She stopped and looked up. Her fingers knotted in the soft
fabric of the shawl. Her heart raced and her breathing quickened as she
recognized the rider. She watched as the man drew ever nearer then she stepped
back as the big black-brown horse reined in before her, and Hoss Cartwright got
down.
He ground tied the
animal as she rushed to him, and he lifted her up. It felt so good to hold his
sister again that he wasn’t sure that he could go back without her. Since she
and Adam had left the house it had been lonely, and Hoss wasn’t eager to return
to the emptiness.
“Oh, Hoss, I’ve
missed you so much, and so has Adam. He doesn’t say so much, but I can tell.”
“It’s mighty good
to see you again, Miss Jacoba. You’re a welcome sight for these ol’ eyes after
lookin’ at Pa, Joe an’ Hop Sing an’ all them ranch hands.” He made himself set
her down, and she caressed his cheek. “I wanted to come before this, but Pa
said we hadta give you two time to get settled before we come visitin’. Then
after we was told what happened at the sawmill, Pa said I could come, with his
blessin’. So I got on ol” Chubb an’ here I am.”
“Adam’s going to
be sorry he missed you, unless you can stay for supper.”
“I’d like that
just fine, if’n your ma don’t mind another mouth.”
“I don’t think
she’s mind one more, since she’s already cooking for nine.”
Hoss’ brow
wrinkled and he counted on his fingers. “I think you counted wrong, Miss
Jacoba, unless somebody’s comin’ I don’t know nothin’ about.”
“I didn’t count
wrong, and there is someone coming that you don’t know anything about.” A
cunning smile lit her face, and she rested her hands on her belly.
It took a few
seconds for it to register, but the gesture wasn’t lost on the big man. His
eyes widened and excitement grew inside him until he could keep it contained no
longer. “Whoopee!” Without thinking about it, he grabbed her and swung her
around. “Whoopee!” But when he realized what he had just done, his face fell
and he put her down with great gentleness. “I’m sorry, Miss Jacoba, I didn’t
mean to hurt you none. I just kinda got carried away.”
“You didn’t hurt
us. We enjoyed it.” But then her bright face went gray. “I don’t imagine that
anything has changed with Little Joe, though I want to believe that it has.”
Hoss frowned. “No,
ma’am. Me n’ Pa’s both tried to talk to ‘im, but it’s been like throwin’ words
at a wall.”
“Well it doesn’t
really make any difference, we’re coming home anyway. Joe had just better watch
his step after what happened last time. And even if he doesn’t accept me this
time, it still doesn’t matter. The fact remains that I’m married to his oldest
brother and there isn’t a thing he can do about it. And it doesn’t really
matter whether he likes it or not.”
“Good for you,
Miss Jacoba. An’ if’n he ever hits you again you just let me know. I’ll wring
‘im out like a piece o’ wet washin’ an’ hang ‘im out to dry.”
She sniggered and
took hold of his arm. “I was just on my way up to visit with Mama. She always
keeps fresh coffee for Papa and the boys, and there just might be a piece of
pie leftover from last night.”
“I’d like that
just fine, Miss Jacoba.”
They crossed the
road – Hoss leading his horse – without saying a word. She was so glad to see
him that she just wanted to revel in his closeness in silence. They had just
reached the foot of the path that led up to the Martell homestead when the
sound of an approaching horse made them stop and look around.
In an instant they
recognized the sleek, leggy chestnut, even though they couldn’t make out the
physical features of his rider, not that they needed to. Sport was a one man
horse.
Hoss stood close
to Jacoba as his brother came on hard. He had known Adam long enough to know
that he didn’t ride like that without good reason. And at the moment, what that
reason could be gave Hoss concern.
Adam pulled Sport
to a halt before them, and his expression became even more sullen at the sight
of his brother. “Hoss please don’t tell me something’s wrong.”
“All right, big
brother, I won’t, but you sure look like something is with you.”
“It is.” Adam
swung down from the saddle. “I ran into Hutch Radden at the sawmill.”
“I know ‘im. A
tall, rangy feller with a scruff of a red beard.”
“He was looking to
talk to a Cartwright. Any Cartwright would’ve done, I just happened to be the
first one he saw. It had to do with something he heard when he was in town this
morning for supplies.”
“I know the kind
o’ supplies ol’ Hutch gets.”
“Yes, and for once
it was a good thing. When he was in the Red Horse to get his usual bottle he
overheard some miners talking. Alfeus Troy, George Garvey and Aaron Hooper are
planning another expedition onto the Ponderosa with a lot more men – a lot more.”
Jacoba’s old fear
returned and slammed into her the second she heard the name Alfeus Troy, and
she knew that what she had been dreading now headed at them. It hadn’t been the
accident at the sawmill yesterday for the sense of foreboding that had been
there after the dream now raged inside her. And the sudden gravity in Hoss’
full face – where just a few moments before she had seen such joy – only
cemented it.
“An’ ol’ Hutch is
sure about this.”
“He’s sure. He
hung around to pick up as much as he could.”
“I hope they
didn’t see ‘im.”
“He says they
didn’t, and I havta go along with that. If they had, he never woulda gotten
outta there. Nobody tried to stop him.”
Hoss’ expression
went from grave to downright grim. “This ain’t good. No, sir, this ain’t good
at all. I don’t suppose they said when this is gonna be.”
“Hutch said they
weren’t even sure, but they figured in the next three or fours days.”
“Well, I s’pose
I’d best get on back an’ tell Pa about this.”
“Not without me,
and don’t try to talk me out of it.”
“You know I’d never
do that, not over somethin’ like this.” Hoss grinned and slapped him on the
arm. “I know Pa’ll sure want you with us when they come.”
Adam handed his
reins to his brother then turned to Jacoba. He looked down at her and cupped
her chin in one hand. She read so many things in his eyes, not the least of
which was regret, and she felt as if she had turned to ice. She didn’t know
what all this meant, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to. All she could be
sure of was that it frightened the very life out of her, and she feared it
wasn’t going to end well for any of them.
She tried to keep
the quiver from her voice. “Adam, I don’t understand what this all means.”
“Trouble, I’m
afraid. These men tried this once before, and we beat them back, and it looks
like we’re gonna havta do it again.”
“Then I’m going
back, too.” She jutted out her haughty chin, and her raven eyes bore into him.
“Please don’t try to stop me.”
He took her hand
and clasped it to his chest. “I won’t. I’ll feel better with you at the house.
Now you get our things together, and I’ll go tell your pa and brothers.” He
squeezed her fingers then released them and started up the path.
“I’ll come with
you, brother.” Hoss gave her his most heartening smile then went off with his
brother, both leading their horses.
Jacoba felt as if
a boot had been clamped down on her throat as she watched them go. She had no
idea who Alfeus Troy was, but the mere mention of his name instilled in her
such dread that left her cold and hollow, and fearing for her husband’s life stronger
than ever before.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The ride home that
late afternoon wasn’t an easy, pleasurable outing like the previous ones that
Jacoba and Adam had shared. This one was urgent and the brothers’ voices were
brittle with tension as they talked about what Jacoba didn’t want to hear. She
kept her arms tight around her husband and could feel the nervous energy that
coursed through his well muscled body. She closed her eyes as she rested her
head against his back in an effort to chase away the fear that continued to
mount inside her, but it didn’t work. She tried to gulp down the knot in her
throat, but that didn’t work either. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t stave off
the idea that her world – the wonderful world she had made with her Adam –
would soon come to an end. Her breathing staggered. And she didn’t even know
how to fight it. After all, how did you fight what you didn’t understand?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ben Cartwright sat
at his desk poring over some correspondences that held no real interest for
him. They needed to be answered, but he had no such desire, even though he knew
he had to. Since his oldest son had taken his wife and gone, Ben found the
emptiness of each day more and more difficult to fill. He had never been
separated from any of his sons for this length of time, and combined with the
uncertainty of Adam’s return, it wanted to devour him.
The nib of the pen
scratched over the paper as the big grandfather clock struck five, but his eyes
never left the page. He didn’t even give notice to the opening of the front
door. “I hope you enjoyed your visit with Adam and Jacoba.”
“It could’ve been
better.”
Ben froze as if
made of solid ice then he turned to look up. The dark coffee eyes rimmed with
tears, and the pen dropped onto the blotter.
Ben’s face
reminded Jacoba of the sun as it came out from behind a gray cloud after a
summer storm, and she dreaded what this news would do to him. She still didn’t
know who these men were or what they intended, but Adam’s and Hoss’ reactions
were enough to be cause for alarm.
“Adam.” Ben rushed
at them. He shook his son’s hand and slapped him on the back. “It’s good to
have you home, son. I knew you couldn’t stay away too long.”
“It’s good to be
home,
“Daughter.” Ben
hugged her so tight as to almost cut off her breath, but she welcomed it.
“Don’t you ever let him drag you away from here again.”
“I won’t,
“I knew my
children couldn’t stay away from home forever.”
“Pa, it’s Alfeus
Troy.”
Jacoba felt Ben’s
arms loosen around her. She could hear the pace of his heart increase, and she
got the same sense of trepidation from him that she had gotten from Adam and
Hoss. She pulled free of his hold and stepped back with Adam and couldn’t miss
how bloodless her father-in-law’s face had become. The sun had gone behind
another black cloud, and she wanted to cry.
“It’s about time
you got back.”
Jacoba could feel
every muscle she had tighten at the sound of Joe’s voice. And now she wasn’t so
sure that things could ever be any different between her and her youngest
brother-in-law. She had tried to convince herself that it would be, but those
green eyes that refused to look at her forced her to realize that maybe not.
Joe took his
brother’s hand and gave it a strong pump. “It’s good you’re home. I ran into
Hoss outside, and he told me about Alfeus Troy.”
Jacoba felt Adam
take her hand and give it a squeeze, then he edged part way between her and his
brother.
“With trouble
coming, this isn’t the time for me to be away from home. And there’s nothing or
nobody that could keep me away.”
There it was, the
gauntlet had just been thrown down, and she could only hope that Joe didn’t
pick it up.
Joe giggled – and
she thought she caught a nervous tinge to it – and smacked his brother against
the arm. “I wouldn’t even try.”
Just then Hoss
blustered in. “I got the horses took care of.”
He came to stand
beside her, and between him and Adam, she didn’t think she had ever felt so
safe. Her eyes turned cold and hard as onyx chips as she set them right on Joe.
If he should look at her, she wanted him to see that she wouldn’t back down.
After that, she didn’t really hear what they were saying; she only felt Adam’s
hand on hers, and kept her focus locked on Joe.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The news about
She had nestled
herself into the big red leather chair close to the fire, and tucked her legs
under her. It was rare that her eyes left Adam, but when they did it was to his
father or one of his brothers, or Hop Sing when he brought more coffee. The
voices were troubled and low, though sometimes they rose in anger or disgust.
And while their soft murmur reassured her, it also unnerved her. Now and then a
word or phrase would disassociate itself from the others and reach her ears to
sometimes send a chill through her. As she sat there – watching and listening –
a sense of unjustified peace crept over her as sleep took hold and the
comforting male voices drifted away.
Jacoba had no idea
what time it was when she awoke as someone gathered her up from the chair. She
nuzzled close to him and let his Bay Rum pervade her still groggy senses as he
carried her upstairs. Then it seemed like all too soon when strong, masculine
arms placed her on the bed and released her. Her eyelids batted, and she
reached out into the darkness that was part way lit from the dim light of the
hall. “Adam.”
“I’m here.” He sat
next to her and began to stroke her hair. How he wished he could lie down
beside her and hold her through the night. He yearned to feel her gentle warmth
close to him and hear her soft, melodic voice. Few things in life had ever torn
at him like having to leave her, maybe to never see her again. But he had to
try to stop these men by standing with his father and brothers. And it consoled
him to know that his father- and brothers-in-law would stand with them.
“Adam, I still
don’t understand why these men are doing this. I don’t know what they could
possibly want, but I wish they would just leave us alone.”
“I’ll explain it
the best I can.” He began to play with the top button of her dress. “Alfeus
Troy had gotten the actress Lotta Crabtree to lure Joe alone into
“But that still
doesn’t tell me who they are or what they want so badly that they would use a
father’s love for his son to get it.”
“They’re mine
owners, and they want the trees.”
“Trees.”
“They need them
for the shoring in their mines – without it they’ll be forced to shutdown.”
“And they’re
willing to go to any length to get what they want.”
“I’m afraid so.” He
undid the button, and his hand moved to the soft throat the collar had
concealed. “But they’d cut down without planting, and that would kill the
land. Men like
She grasped his fingers. “And that means
there’ll be shooting, and men are going to get killed.”
“I’m afraid that’s
always the outcome when men try to take what they have no right to.”
She stifled a moan
and kissed the inside of his wrist then – with a cry – she sat up and swung her
arms around his neck. “I don’t want to
lose you. I just can’t.”
He laughed.
“You’re not gonna lose me. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while.”
A tiny flame came
to life at the base of her skull, and her hold tightened around him. “That
isn’t funny.”
But then an odd
sensation made her look toward the doorway. Joe stood just outside in the hall.
The dim light behind him had put him into silhouette, and she could just make
out his eyes as they met with hers. They watched each other for a couple
seconds then he turned and went toward the stairs.
Adam pulled her
away from him and laid her back on the bed. “You go back to sleep. I’ll
probably be up all night with Pa, Hoss and Joe.”
“I can’t go to
sleep now.”
“You can try.”
The tears at last
overflowed their boundaries and ran down the sides of her face. With tender
fingers, he wiped them away then leaned down and kissed her. She put her arms
around him, and she wished she could hold him forever.
“Now you do as I
say, and get some sleep.” He released himself from her grasp. “I’ll be right
downstairs.”
“Don’t close the
door. I want to be able to hear your voices.”
“All right, my
love, if it’ll please you.”
“It won’t be so
lonely if I can at least hear you.”
“Whatever you
wish.” His lips brushed her forehead then he got up and left the room.
She could hear his
boots against the plank floor as he went along the hall then they started down
the steps. Her heart wasn’t breaking – it was shattering into a billion tiny
shards. Then the sobs started and ran away with her. And she couldn’t have
stopped them even if she had wanted to.
Jacoba tried to
push away the mind numbing fear that she would never see him again – leastways,
not alive. She cursed herself and flung one arm over her face. Why did she have
to think such things? Then she choked off a cry and buried her face in his
pillow.
20
The sun had just
risen above the far horizon when Jacoba awoke from what had been a fitful night
still dressed from the day before. Even her shoes were on her feet. It took
only a minute for awareness to seep into her sleepy brain. “Adam.” She got no
answer so her voice rose. “Adam.” Still no answer. She bounced from the bed and
ran from the room then down the stairs and stopped on the landing. Her eyes
scanned around her – her hands clenched on the banister – but there wasn’t a
soul in sight. As she stood still as stone – her breathing coming as a whisper
in the silence – her hearing picked up movement in the kitchen. Without
hesitation, she dashed down the rest of the way and rushed toward the sounds.
Hop Sing stood at
the sink washing the breakfast dishes, a rifle and box of shells on the table
behind him. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t make herself not look at them.
“They gone, Missy.
They leave before sun come up.” He smiled in a transparent attempt to be
cheerful. “Maybe you like help in kitchen.”
“Not right now,
Hop Sing, perhaps later. I just thought of something I need to do.” Then she
spun on her toe and ran back out into the dining room.
With clipping
steps, she ran to the staircase then up and down the hall to their room. She
closed the door behind her and moved to the chest in one quick motion. She
opened the top drawer and pushed back her gowns to reveal the knife in its
leather sheath. Her fingertips ran over it with a light touch then she took it
out and closed the drawer then went and sat on the side of the bed.
She slid it from
its casing, and fingered the keen blade. With a hand steady as a rock, she held
it out in a clenched fist. She imagined what it would be like to thrust it into
this man Troy – she could almost see him standing before her, but he had no
face since she had no idea what he looked like. Jacoba had realized yesterday
when she had heard the name that this man was the reason for all the
apprehension that had gripped her that first night at the settlement, and the
day after. Somehow this must have come to her in a dream, a dream that she did
not recall but had begun to live. Things like this happened to the women in the
She put the knife
back then jerked up her skirt and petticoats and tied the sheath around her
right thigh. This was the first time she had worn it since she had become
Adam’s wife, but now she feared that she could be in need of it.
“If you die, they
will too, no matter how long it takes. This I vow.”
Then she got up
and went out of the room. She would take Hop Sing up on his offer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The morning moved
with the pace of a cold snail, as time always did when Jacoba and Adam were
separated from one another. She sat at the small table in the kitchen peeling
potatoes, her raven head bent over the pan.
Hop Sing checked
the pot of boiling water on the stove. “Water leady. Time for potatoes to…” But
the words stopped as he turned around and saw her.
Jacoba didn’t seem
to be aware of his presence, or much of anything, for that matter. Her
movements were slow and mechanical as the paring knife cut through the skin of
the vegetable in her hands, gouging chunks out of it.
“Missy…. Missy.”
He stepped to her and touched the back of her hand. “Missy.”
Her head shot up,
and she almost jumped from the chair – her eyes wide and trapped – and almost
sent the pan into the floor.
“Hop Sing solly,
but Missy so quiet, not like her. You try no to wolly about Mista Adam, he with
family and they take care of him.”
“I know that, Hop
Sing, but they’re in as much danger as he is. And I can’t get over the terrible
sense that something dreadful is going to happen. I’ve tried to keep it from
him, and I think I have. Only Mama, and now you, know about this.” Her voice
began to break, and her fingernails dug into the potato. “But sometimes…” The powerful
desire to escape struck her, and she stood and slammed the pan onto the table.
“Excuse me.”
Jacoba ran from
the kitchen as if being chased and out through the parlor. She thought to go
upstairs, but for the moment she couldn’t go back to that empty room, so she
ran for the front door. Once outside she got as far as the yard and just
stopped as if her feet refused to go any farther. Her eyes traced along the
road past the stable, and she wished with all her heart to see him coming. But
she knew better. Her fingers wound in the soft, wash-worn fabric of her skirt,
and her heart pounded so hard with yearning for him that she thought it would
beat her to death. Never had she felt such utter helplessness, and she didn’t
know how to fight it.
“Missy,” came to
her left, but she didn’t look away from the road.
It tore at Hop
Sing to see her in such a state of complete despair, and he wished he could do
something to ease her spirit. But for the moment he had no idea how. “Missy.”
“I’m all right.”
She felt the fist that had closed over her begin to loosen as she found the
courage to look at him. A mirthless smile that raised nowhere near her eyes
turned her mouth. “I just had to get outside for a few minutes. Honestly, I’m
all right now.”
“Missy come back
inside. Hop Sing make hot tea with honey, and you eat.”
The cool air
wafted over her, and brought with it a chill. She shivered, but not altogether
from the nip in the breeze. A sudden need for the warmth and reassuring
security of the house came, and now she could go back in. She reached out to
him.
He took her hand,
but kept a respectful distance. It was good to know that she trusted him, and
that he could be there to help her; to take care of Mista Adam’s wife. He had
been entrusted with Mista Adam’s most precious possession, and it was up to Hop
Sing to take care of her while he was gone. And that he would do, no matter
what it took.
With a last glance
toward the empty road she went back inside with the little cook.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As with dinner
Jacoba ate very little supper, and took it in the kitchen for the welcome
company that Hop Sing provided. He told her more of his stories about
A lone lamp on the
buffet in the dining room, and the firelight lit the parlor. She contemplated
the big red leather chair, but decided on a seat on the hearth. She sat down,
and the first thing she did was remove her shoes, and wiggle her toes. It felt
good to free her feet from day long confinement. Then her eyes and mind went to
the fire. Its warmth embraced her, and the flames flirted with her like bright ballerinas.
It allowed her thoughts to wander and took them to the only place they could
go. Where was he at this moment? Was he safe, and with his family and hers? Had
those men come? Maybe he had been…? She wouldn’t let herself finish the notion.
He was all right – she knew he had to be. She picked up the poker from where it
leaned against the stone, and began to stab at the logs.
“I love you, Adam
Cartwright.” Her hand tightened on the curved handle of the poker. “Come home
safely. Come home and be with me…”
But her voice died
away as that sinister, featureless face loomed before her in the flickering
blaze. Alfeus Troy was the cause of all this, and she hated him with every
fiber of her being. She wouldn’t know him if he stood in front of her and spoke
to her. Or would she? Would her woman’s intuition tell her that this was the
man behind all the pain and grief she was experiencing? That here stood the man
that had forced the separation between her and the one she loved more than life
itself? And if Adam, by some hideous twist of fate, should be wrenched from
her, could she kill him as she had promised? Her hand went down to her thigh
and felt the knife’s hard contours, softened through the folds of her skirt and
petticoats. Yes, she could, without hesitation.
She continued to
sit there for an hour, then – after a quick trip to the privy – she decided to
try to get some sleep. After she banked the fire, she huddled down in Father
Ben’s favorite red chair, and wrapped herself in her arms. She didn’t notice
Hop Sing as he watched her from the kitchen doorway.
It hurt him to see
her this way. The very energy that made her a pleasure seemed to have been
sucked from her. This day – when the dark eyes had turned to him – he had seen
the specter of fear and uncertainty that lurked behind them. And to know that
he could do nothing about it caused as much pain. He stood there as long as he
dared, then he ducked back into his domain lest she catch him.
Jacoba paid no
attention to being bunched up in the chair instead of stretched out and
comfortable. She only knew that she couldn’t go back to that bed. As she sat
there – her eyes fixed on the dim glow of the banked fire – her thoughts became
even more focused on Adam. In the faint radiance that lay beneath the ashes she
had spread over the logs she could make out his face, only vague at first then
it grew clearer. She saw the strong, well-defined chin with the suggestion of a
cleft that supported the sumptuous mouth that a woman could lose herself to. She
imagined her fingers running through the heavy black hair that toyed with the
notion to curl. And she didn’t need to try hard to see those deep, rich hazel
eyes in a rakish dance over the prominent cheekbones. She held one hand out in
front of her and let herself visualize his long fingers – whose touch was so
much like an intoxicant – as they twined with hers. As peace settled in, sleep
began to take hold, and she could feel his inviting arms enfold her to protect
her as she slept, as they had so many times before.
Jacoba wasn’t
aware when Hop Sing placed a blanket over her. He stood and watched as she
slept, the lines of worry softened from her young face. “Please, Mista Adam,
you come back to Missy. She die without you.” Then he put out the lamp on the
buffet and returned to the kitchen.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It hadn’t even
turned light when Jacoba opened her eyes the next morning. She had slept sound
through the night with Adam to comfort her in her dreams, the sense of anguish
from the previous day for the moment blotted out. She smiled as she ran a hand
over the blanket that covered her in the knowledge of how it had gotten there.
Since yesterday she had come to realize more than ever how much she had grown
to love the little Chinese cook as she would her own kin.
With a fling, she
threw back the blanket and pulled her legs out from under her. Through the
night – bunched into the chair as they had been – they had stiffened and her
feet prickled with pins and needles. She raised her arms above her head, and
stretched all over, and felt the kinks begin to unknot in her back. Her stomach
wasn’t so queasy this morning. She hunched her shoulders and rested her clasped
hands in her lap as she inhaled the enticing aroma of fresh coffee. But in that
second of delight the menacing darkness returned – now began the second
agonizing day.
She came to her
feet, and folded the blanket and draped it over the back of the chair. No doubt
she would have need of it again tonight, so it wouldn’t make much sense to put
it away. With another deep sniff and a slight stretch of her arms, she padded
toward the kitchen in her bare feet. She could resist the coffee no longer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The morning had
been in no great hurry to pass, and Jacoba had no idea what time it had become,
though if she had to guess she would put it at close to noon. The rush broom whisked
back-and-forth as she swept the back porch, just one of many chores she had
busied herself with to keep her mind occupied. She had become so concentrated
on her task that she didn’t even notice when the door opened.
“Missy come in
now, it time to eat.”
“I’m not really
hungry.”
“You not eat
enough today to keep chicken alive.”
“I know, but I
just don’t really have that much of an appetite.”
“And I know why,
but it not help. It not make sadness go away or Mista Adam come home. So Missy
please come in and eat before food get cold.”
She made herself
smile. “All right, just a few more swipes and I’ll be right in.”
“All light,” he
shook his finger at her, and she thought she caught a hint of a grin, “but you
be good girl and not make Hop Sing come back.”
“I will be.”
As he turned he
shook his head and the long pigtail swished across his back, and he went
inside.
With wild abandon,
she swung the broom over the floor like a pendulum to fill the air with dust
and debris. She surveyed her handiwork then leaned the broom against the wall
and went into the house.
Hop Sing ladled
hot stew into a bowl and placed before her just as she sat at the table. A
spoon and glass of milk already waited for her. As he turned back to the stove,
she folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head in a silent grace.
She wasn’t what
one would call voracious or even just somewhat hungry, but she knew Hop Sing
would chastise her if she didn’t eat. The first spoonful tasted good, and the
second even better and it made her realize that she might be a little hungrier
than she thought. But with all she had on her mind it would be fair to say she didn’t
wonder that she had lost some interest in food. She took a slice of fresh bread
from the dish and tore it in half. Since a child, she had loved to dredge her
bread in her stew; it made such a wonderful mouthful. Today, though, it was
just another bite that took her that much closer to being done.
When she had
emptied the bowl and glass and passed on seconds, she washed her dinner things.
When she finished she just stood there, at a loss for what to do next. Then a
tiny light went on inside her head. “I think I’ll go outside for a little bit.
I thought I would go to the stable and see Sunshine. She probably thinks I’ve
abandoned her.”
“That maybe not
such good idea. Bad men could come and hurt Missy. And horse not care if you
come or not.”
“Maybe, but I just
want to see her.”
“Then you wait and
I come with you and bring gun.”
“Hop Sing, really,
I’ll be just fine. Men are riding the perimeter, and if anything should come up
they’ll let us know.” She reached out and touched the back of his hand. “Now
don’t be such a worrier. I’ll be fine.”
“All light, but
you take shawl. Not want Missy catch chill.”
“As you wish.”
Then she gave him a pat and went out through the dining room.
He watched her go
then turned back to the stove and plunged the wooden spoon into the pot of
bubbling stew. He started to stir with some aggression and mutter in Chinese at
the same time.
Once she had
retrieved her shawl from the bedroom – a place she went to as little as she
could get by with – she rushed out of the house with breathless anticipation.
She drew the shawl snug around her as she started down the slope of the front
yard. As she went she caught sight of one of the armed, mounted men that
patrolled the outer boundaries of the home settlement. She hadn’t given much
thought to those men who would come to steal getting this far, but it was
apparent that Ben and his sons had.
The gray coolness
of the stable greeted her like an old friend. She breathed in the horsy, sweet
straw smell and it recalled to mind, the night not so far distant when she had
been dragged here only to ride out in the moonlight. With a slight shudder she
walked direct to the only stall that wasn’t empty.
Sunshine continued
to munch her oats while Jacoba stood outside the stall and riffled her fingers
through the horse’s white forelock. “Hello, Sunshine. I’m glad to see that
someone remembered to feed you. I bet it was Hop Sing.” She grinned at the
image of the little cook out here seeing to the needs of her horse. If she
tried very hard, she could almost hear him talking in soothing Cantonese to the
animal. “Some day we’ll go riding again, I promise. But right now isn’t the
best time.”
For the moment the
horse forgot about food as her head raised, and she snuffled the raven hair.
Jacoba rested a cheek against the animal’s downy jowl and felt the tears run
free as her eyelids squeezed together. She was helpless to stop them, and she
didn’t want to anyway.
“Oh, Sunshine, I
miss him so much. I didn’t know love could hurt so badly.”
Her tears caught a
shaft of sunlight and glistened against the little dapple’s coat. It took a bit
for her crying to run its course. Her breathing came in ragged, uncontrolled
breaths, what Mama had always called ‘snubbing’. She raised her head and looked
at the beautiful little horse, and knew it wasn’t only Adam she worried about.
Jacoba had two fathers and six brothers now, though one would never like to
hear her call him that. And all of them were caught in the middle of this storm
that was gathering.
“Now just look at
what I’ve done to you. I’ve gone and gotten you all tearstained.” She took the
end of her shawl and began to dry the animal’s face and neck with exaggerated
swipes. Sunshine, however, didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she appeared to enjoy
it. “There now, that looks better.” She gave a final finishing swipe for good
measure. “I suppose I should go and let you finish eating.” She kissed
Sunshine’s velvety muzzle then – after a last pat – she walked out and closed
and barred the doors then started back to the house.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The second half of
the day moved as slow as the first, and Jacoba seemed to have as much
difficulty filling it. Hop Sing watched her in silence until he decided to do
something about it.
As soon as Jacoba
stepped into the kitchen she found a pad of paper and a pencil jammed into her
hands. She just stared at them then looked up at him. “I can’t imagine what
this is for.”
“It long past time
Hop Sing take inventory of pantry to see what need to be stocked up.”
“I know what
you’re doing, and I do appreciate it, but I think you can manage just fine
without
“Don’t be silly
girl.” He pushed them back to her. “Before always do alone, now have help not
take so long.”
A furtive grin
touched her lips. “All right.”
Once in the pantry
Hop Sing began his survey from atop a wooden box for a better vantage point. “We
have plenty of tea, but Mista Adam like lot of spice and honey in winter.
Better to get more. And better to get more coffee, too.”
Her teeth clamped
down on her lower lip as she wrote them down on her list.
“Better to make
sure have lot of canned peaches for Mista Hoss. On third shelf behind flour.”
Jacoba had to
stand on her toes to reach back to count the cans, and as she did her arm
nudged a bag of flour. It hit the floor and exploded on impact and filled the
air with a brownish-white fog. They coughed and tried to fan it away, but in
the enclosed, windowless room it wasn’t in any hurry to settle. Choking and
hacking, they had no choice but to go back out into the kitchen.
She continued to
cough as she got a good look at Hop Sing. One hand went to her mouth, and she
tried not to laugh.
His obsidian eyes
turned on her from beneath a scowl. “I not see what so funny.”
“You look…” Her
laughter began to build in spite of her. “You look like a ghost.”
He looked at
himself and tried to slap some of the powder from his clothes. “You make velly
pletty ghost, too.
She hushed and
looked at herself. She was as ethereal as him. She held out a hank of her hair
– now more grayish than black – and her dress looked even more faded than
before. Her piercing eyes rose to him.
“Better to get
more flour, too.”
That did it. She
lost complete control and burst out, and Hop Sing wasn’t to be denied either.
Their unbridled laughter rose to the ceiling, and resonated from the walls.
Tears rolled down her cheeks to leave flesh-colored streaks, and she had to
lean back against the table. Hop Sing wrapped his arms around his middle, and
tried not to fall over. The release valve had been found, and some of the tension
had been relieved.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The second day had
come to a merciful close, which only left the night to get through. Jacoba sat
in the red chair before the fire, a small volume that she had gotten from the
bookcase in Ben’s study open in her lap. She had no idea what it was about, and
didn’t care, as long as it took her mind away. But after she had read the
opening paragraph six times she decided that it was a pure waste of effort. She
should have known better. She closed the little book – still not sure of what
it had been about – and laid it in the floor. On a jagged intake of breath she
began to search for something to occupy her mind. She brought her legs up and
wrapped her arms around them.
Her eyes strayed
to the hearth and the fire glinted in them. Anything pleasant that would deaden
the longing and dull the fear. But since she had met this man that she
cherished with every ounce of herself, nothing had been so unpleasant. Even the argument that night he came home
from the cattle drive had turned into a memory that she would treasure for
always. Only the episode with Joe would remain as a blight to mar her life, if
she let it.
Adam, for all the
ferocity and wildness of spirit that made him so captivating to her, in
private, proved to be a tender, loving and romantic man that made her feel
every inch a woman. When they were alone together he had a way of looking at
her and touching her that made her feel special. His voice took on a soft
quality that she would never have suspected of him. And he belonged to her, to
have and to hold, from this day forward. Or for as long as others would allow
it.
Her fingers dug
into her upper arms as what was going on rushed back at her. There were men out
there who would try to take what Ben Cartwright had labored so long and hard to
build for himself, but most especially for his sons. And it angered her to the
point of where she thought the crime should be punishable by death. But that would be the price that some – on both
sides – would pay. Before this ended, men would be snatched from those who
loved them and the thought made her heart ache. And all because three greedy,
selfish men desired what they had no right to, and the owner wasn’t willing to
part with.
She wasn’t one bit
upset with Ben for this; in fact, she held pride in this man that she had come
to call ‘Pa’. In many ways, he made her think of her own father who had brought
his family out here from
A tiny whimper ran
through her, and she hid her face against her arms as she recalled another
heated dispute. She would never forget her mother’s disappointment when her
nineteen-year-old daughter had announced that she wouldn’t be going with them.
Her father’s reaction, however, had been quite different – the raised voice,
the threats of trussing her up and throwing her into the back of the wagon.
Only her sweet, dear Isaac and maybe her mother, a little, had understood her
reasons. She had believed that only in
As she looked back
to the fire amusement lit her eyes as she thought of this misconception, and
what she had found in
And then to add to
her disillusionment there had been added the ever-growing longing to see her
family. So, after the pull had become too strong to resist, she had packed her
things, said good-bye to her Aunt Abitha, and, with money she had saved from
sewing jobs over the years, boarded the train. This mode of transport had taken
her as far as
But once again
disappointment came when she had trouble meeting anyone due to her father’s and
brothers’ over protectiveness. More than once she had railed against it but to
no benefit. And then, that evening in front of the cabin, her life had changed
in a way and where she had least expected it.
As she looked
deeper into the fire she saw once again her Roman Centurion in his rugged
trappings as those dark eyes turned on her and took her breath. She closed her
eyes and let herself feel his warm, moist kisses on her lips. A sob shuddered
through her, and she let her head drop. “Please come safely back to me.” She
hid her face in her hands. “Please.” Then her shoulders began to shake.
21
Jacoba awoke the
next morning with a jolt. Her heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird, and a
quick intake of air filled her lungs. With a jerk, she sat up straight and
clomped her feet onto the floor. Her frantic eyes probed the parlor and dining
room, and she saw that she was still alone. Well, not quite alone – the old
fear had resurfaced as strong as it had been that night at the boardinghouse. A
small voice in the back of her head spoke to her and said that they would be
coming home today. And it told her something else – to be afraid.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Jacoba
stepped out into the hall she felt like a new woman. She wore a black-and-white
gingham checked dress – one of her favorites – that had faded to more of a
gray-and-white. Her still damp hair smelled like the lilac soap she had bought
at Mr. Henry Waxman’s store, one of the few luxuries she allowed herself.
She pulled the
door to their room together behind her. Jacoba went in there only when the
absolute need arose, and almost always during the day. After dark was when she
had trouble, and the bed was out of the question. She pulled her hair back from
her face and tied it then turned for the stairs. Maybe she would feel a little
more like eating when she got to the kitchen.
Her shoes clacked
against the treads of the stairs as she went down, and her hand slid along the
banister. It wasn’t normal for her to cry when she took a bath, and these days
she did so with so little provocation at any time. And the tears and
provocation came most of all when she thought of him. She could almost hear her
mother’s voice say: “Love can make a weak woman strong, and a strong woman
weak.” And now she knew what those sage words meant.
As she crossed the
parlor toward the kitchen she could hear Hop Sing stirring about, and it made
her smile. If not for the little cook she most likely would have gone mad by
this time. When she came to the doorway the first thing her gaze lit on was the
ever present rifle. She knew it was there for her protection, but she had come
to hate the very sight of it and what it represented. And today it only
exacerbated her terrible dread.
Hop Sing bustled
out of the pantry with an empty basket, and his face brightened when he saw
her. “Good morning, Missy. I hope you sleep well.”
“Not too bad, all
things considered. I just came in to see if I could find something to eat. I’m
a little hungrier than I was when I first got up.”
“Velly good.” He
thrust the basket into her hands. “You go get eggs, and Hop Sing make you good
breakfast.”
“Well, I really…”
He fanned her
toward the door. “Shoo, shoo, you go.”
“My but you’re
pushy.”
“I say go.”
She gave him a
saucy flip of her head, and heard him chortle as she went out the door.
The morning bore a
bit more of a resemblance to a winter day. Something akin to soft gray gauze seemed
to cover the sun, and heavy, somber clouds drifted overhead. The bracing bite
to the air made her shiver and reminded her that she had left her shawl in the
house. Silence hung so heavy that it seemed to press down on her. She glanced
up to the sky just as she reached the door of the chicken coop. “The calm
before the storm.”
She shook her head
and went inside, but as she did the smell assailed her and brought on the
queasies with a vengeance. Her stomach flipped once then settled, but continued
its complaints.
“Good morning,
girls.” She forced a smile as she fought back a rising wave of nausea. She
moved to where the chickens sat huddled on their nests, their feathers fluffed
up as they tried to stay warm.
As she reached out
to one of the hens the urge to vomit hit her all at once. The basket dropped as
she burst out, but she didn’t get far before she started to heave. However,
since she hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and little at that, she only retched
and gagged. She leaned back against the coop and bent over, her hands holding
back her skirt just in case she did find something to lose.
A gentle hand
rested on her shoulder. “Missy.”
She looked up into
the concerned face of Hop Sing. Her breathing came in such harsh, fast gulps
that she hadn’t heard him come out.
“Just a little
sick to my stomach.” The sickness had begun to run its course. She stood back
against the wall, and one hand rested on her still aggravated stomach.
Hop Sing’s brow
knit into a fretful scowl. This wasn’t the first time Missy had been sick since
she and Mista Adam had returned home, though she had tried to keep it hidden.
He had a good idea why, and he wondered if Mista Adam knew. “Missy go back into
house. Hop Sing get eggs then make you good tea to settle stomach.”
Any other time she
would have argued with him, but right now she just wanted to get away from
there. She nodded then pushed herself away from the wall and started back to
the house with long, dragging steps.
He watched her go
then turned to the chicken coop. “Poor, Missy.” Then he went inside.
Jacoba sat on the
hearth and jabbed the logs with the poker, and knocked the ashes loose, the
blanket draped over her back and shoulders. A chill had made itself at home
inside her, and her tummy continued to gurgle and move around. Soon a blaze
flittered and crackled in the hearth to spread its welcoming heat like a long
lost old friend. She watched the flames grow and wondered where Adam was at
that very moment. She wondered if he was with his family or hers or if they were
all together. And had they met these men that were coming or were they still
waiting?
“Let them be
safe.” Her eyes closed, and her grip tightened on the poker. “Please protect
them.”
She fought a
losing battle against the kind of thoughts she didn’t want to have as they
wormed their way into her mind. “Not my husband.” Her hand squeezed on the
poker until her knuckles whitened. “Not my family.” Tears flooded behind her
closed eyelids and some managed to escape.
“Missy,” came on a
breath.
She leaned the
poker against the fireplace then wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand,
and looked up at him. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t heard him
come in. But he was difficult to miss anytime since he walked around like a
soft pawed cat anyway.
He held a steaming
cup out to her, and she took it with a soft ‘thank you’. His eyes never left
her as she took the first sip. It wasn’t hard to tell that she had been crying,
but he would show her respect and not let on. He could see how much she missed and
feared for Mista Adam, and he would have been surprised if she hadn’t. All of
the men in her life were caught in this terrible thing, so Missy had much to
cry over.
The hot tea, sweet
with honey, tasted good, a lot better than her mother’s warm milk and sage. As
she took another sip she became aware of intense obsidian eyes fixed on her
every move. “I’m all right, Hop Sing. My stomach just got a little upset, but
the tea helps. Thank you.”
“Maybe Missy eat
now.”
“No, I couldn’t
touch a bite. Perhaps after while.”
“All light, but
you let Hop Sing know when you leady. He fix lickety split.”
She promised him
that she would then he returned to the kitchen. When he had gone she turned
back to the fire, and continued to sip her tea. The light glimmered in the deep
pools of her eyes, and her face flushed from the heat. Once again she heard the
rich baritone say – “I love you Jacoba Ruth Martell Cartwright, and when I die
I want it to be in your arms.”
Jacoba gripped the
cup tighter. “Not now.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacoba sat at the
table in the kitchen drinking the last of her broth while Hop Sing pared
carrots. Since the episode at the chicken house her insides had evened out, and
she felt some better. It hadn’t taken her long to learn the pattern of her morning
sickness; mornings saw her sick as a dog, but by noon it would calm, and she
would feel better for the rest of the day. Only once, so far, had it hit her
beyond midday, but it had been her own fault for going too long without food.
Starved, she had gorged herself on bread slathered with gooseberry jam, and now
she wondered if she would ever be able to eat the stuff again.
A sudden, sporadic
rattle of gunfire off in the distance disrupted the quiet. Jacoba almost jumped
from the chair, and dropped the empty cup. It rolled down her lap and wound up
in the folds of her skirt around her feet. Her heart raced, and her wide gaze
went to Hop Sing. The carrots at once forgotten, he grabbed the rifle and came
to his feet.
More shots
continued. After what seemed like an eternity, the thump of rapid hooves came
along the road and into the yard. Hop Sing went to the back door – the weapon
clutched in his hand – and bolted it. Then he rushed into the parlor, and
Jacoba followed. The cup rolled away with a hard clink onto the floor.
He went right to
the window in the end of the study and parted the red curtains and looked out. Then
he turned to her. “Missy stay here while Hop Sing go outside.”
“Hop Sing.”
“Please, Missy,
you stay.”
Her eyes never
left him as he rushed to the door and went out, and left it ajar. She could
hear him in urgent conversation with someone, but she couldn’t make out what
they were saying. Her hands wrung together at her waist, she never looked away
from the doorway. Hop Sing darted back in as hoof beats drew away from the
house, closed the door, and bolted it as well.
“That one of men
riding guard. He say to stay in house and keep doors and windows locked. Some
of those men…”
Another spate of
gunfire distracted him. Jacoba’s breathing came faster, and her fingers bunched
into knots around each other. She had never dreamed they would get this close
to the house.
The spatter of
shots persisted, and sounded like they were coming closer. Jacoba’s hand went
to her right thigh and the comfort of the knife. If they managed to get inside
she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Hop Sing’s hold tightened on the rifle
until the skin stretched taught over his knuckles.
Jacoba felt safe
with the little cook. She knew he would lay down his life to protect Mista
Adam’s wife. More shots rattled off, and she wished for her husband.
“Missy go
upstairs. If those men get in…”
“No. If they get
in, we’ll face them together. I won’t run away, and it won’t make any
difference anyway.”
A shot came so close
that she heard the scream and wondered if it was a Ponderosa man or one of the
intruders. Her attention went to the gun cabinet as Hop Sing watched out the
window.
He spun around at
the sound of a shotgun being broken open and went chalk white at the sight of
her.
She took a box
from one of the cabinet drawers. “When I came out here Papa thought I should
know how to use one of these.” She jammed a shell into each barrel of the
monster. “He told me that the best thing about a shotgun is that even if you miss
what you’re shooting at; you’ll still most likely hit it.” She snapped the gun
shut then turned to him, her face set in grim determination. “Now let them
come, because I don’t intend to miss.”
She came to stand
beside him, and he had never been prouder of his girl. Now he knew more than
ever that Mista Adam had chosen his wife wisely. She would give him fine sons.
He watched her, and she turned a solemn smile to him. Even though he couldn’t
detect Missy’s fear, he knew it was there, just as it was within him.
The shooting went
on for maybe another twenty minutes or so. Then, with the same abruptness as it
had started, it stopped. The new din of silence was deafening. It appeared that
the fighting had ceased, but both Jacoba and Hop Sing knew that could be a
foolish and deadly assumption, so they stayed alert and ready for anything.
The sun crept ever
lower in the sky as red, orange, pink and green traced across the heavens in
blazing hues. The deepening chill of evening began to set in.
Close to four hours
passed, and still no one had come. Those who had tried had been driven away.
But the occupants of the big house knew they could try again.
Jacoba wanted to
unload the shotgun and put it back into the cabinet, but that could prove an
expensive mistake. “It doesn’t look like they’re coming.”
“Yes, Missy. Men
like that not kind to wait so long.” He took a ragged breath. “It been long
day. Maybe you try to get sleep. Hop Sing keep watch.”
All at once Jacoba
felt very tired and very old. “I don’t think I could sleep no matter how hard I
tried. But maybe just lying down would help.” She felt too exhausted to object,
so she just turned for the stairs. “I’ll be in Father Ben’s room.”
On an onerous
breath, she started up the staircase, the shotgun cradled in her arms like an
infant. She had just reached the landing when a disturbance outside froze her.
She whirled, and her eyes went straight to Hop Sing. “Maybe they’re coming
back.”
“Don’t know, this
different.”
As it drew closer
it became obvious that a wagon and riders were the purveyors of the commotion.
Sudden cold grabbed her and held her in its icy grip. Whoever it was, stopped
in the yard, accompanied by harried, agitated and loud masculine voices. Hop
Sing dashed to unbolt the front door. He had no sooner done so, when Little Joe
burst in with a rifle clutched in each hand, his face stark and drawn.
Ben dashed in with
his eldest son’s hat, vest and gun belt. “Hop Sing, get some water, bandages
and towels.” He plunked the items down on the desk.
Hop Sing took off
for the kitchen just as Hoss came in with Adam wild in his arms.
“Hoss, I’m all
right, I tell you. Put me down. I can walk on my own.”
“No, big brother,
you cain’t, and I ain’t gonna.”
Jacoba’s heart
almost died as she sped back down the stairs. The shotgun thumped onto the
green topped table, and she flew to Adam’s side. She didn’t try to hide how her
hand trembled as she smoothed back his heavy black hair.
“I’m all right,
Jacoba.” He touched her cheek and left a red smear. “I’m all right.”
As she took his
hand, her questioning eyes went to her father-in-law’s grave visage. No words
were needed to tell her it was bad. Her husband could die, and she had known
for almost two weeks.
Ben ran to the
dining room and began to clean off the table. “Bring him over here.”
Jacoba never
relinquished her hold on the cherished hand as Hoss did as he had been ordered.
The big man put his brother down with the greatest gentleness. She moved around
and put herself between Adam and his father. She would take care of her man,
and no one – not even Pa – dare try to stop her.
“I’ll do this,
daughter.”
As she turned to
him, an inner torch burned in her eyes. “I’ll do it.”
Ben wasn’t in the
mood for this; death could be only inches from his son, and this girl had the
gall to defy him. “This is my son.”
“That may be so,
but he’s my husband, and it’s my place to take care of him.”
Ben’s gaze probed
deep into hers. He had been wrong. It was grit, not gall.
Hop Sing bustled
in and placed the items Ben had demanded on the buffet.
“Jacoba.”
She turned to Adam
and bent close to him. With the backs of her fingers she stroked his cheek.
“I’m right here, my dearest one.”
“Remember what I
said.”
She frowned in
confusion. “I don’t know what…”
“That night under
the tree,” he reached out to her, “when I…”
She put her
fingers against his dry lips. She knew what he meant, and she couldn’t hear it
again.
He pulled her hand
away. “Promise me…. Promise me that if…”
“Shhh, be still,
it’s going to be all right.” She had to fight hard to win out against her
emotions. Adam couldn’t see her cry, not now. And there wasn’t time.
Adam could feel
himself slipping into darkness, but he wouldn’t let it come until he had
garnered what he sought. If he was going to die, he would have it his way.
“Promise me.” He squeezed her hand. “Promise.”
“There’s no need
because you’re going to stay with us.”
“Promise.” His
grip tightened on her hand until the tips of her fingers turned red. “Promise.”
She swallowed
hard, and her chin began to quiver. “I promise.”
The weary dark
hazel eyes turned to his father. A smile deepened the corners of his mouth. “We
stopped ‘em.”
“Yes, boy, we
stopped ‘em. Now you do as Jacoba says and lay quiet.”
Adam held a
shaking hand out to his father, and Ben gripped it with both of his. He held on
for dear life – his son’s life – as if he could keep it from sliding away from
him. He had seen his first-born get shot, and the image had been seared into
his brain. And now to watch Adam fight so hard for the right to live, bit into
him with the sharpest of teeth. He turned to Jacoba, and her raven eyes seemed
to plead with him. “Get it done, daughter.”
Jacoba knew she
had to do this, and time was too precious to waste. She held Adam’s life in her
hands now, and she would do what she could to save that treasured life. “Hoss,
light a lamp and bring it over here.”
Hop Sing came to
stand beside her with the pan of water and some towels. He put them on the
table as she looked at him. He saw tension and fear and maybe most of all
uncertainty, but he knew his girl could do it. She had made him so proud when
she had stood with him before, and now she would make him even prouder. His
eyes exuded all the confidence he could show her.
Jacoba pulled back
Adam’s shirt, and her teeth clamped onto her lower lip. He had been shot in the
side, and he had a lost a lot of blood. She felt sick, though not for herself.
When she looked up her eyes met with Adam’s and he gave her a feeble nod. She
washed away some of the blood as Hoss came to stand behind her with the lighted
lamp.
Joe stood at his
injured brother’s feet. His eyes stayed right on her as she folded a piece of
cloth several times then put it between Adam’s teeth to bite off the pain. She
seemed so calm, as she went about what had to be done. Her hands were steady as
rock, and for the first time, he saw her through a different lens. Now he saw a
strong woman determined to save the life of the one she loved. And as he
studied her, he learned something about his own feelings.
Without any
thought to modesty, Jacoba jerked up her skirt and petticoats and took the
knife from its sheath. She brought the back of her hand across her forehead to
leave another red smear. The only way she knew she could do this would be to
keep reminding herself that he could die if she didn’t. “Hoss, bring the light
closer. Pa, you had better hold his shoulders down. Joe, hold his legs.”
Hoss held the lamp
down. He could see his brother struggle to stay with them, and he wished he
could do something to help him. For now Jacoba was doing the only thing that
could be done. He rested a reassuring hand on his sister’s shoulder and felt
her muscles tense. He squeezed the slender arm, and he looked at the resolute,
beautiful face. She would fight; of this he had no doubt.
“Please steady and
guide my hands.”
“Amen,” came from
Ben.
Jacoba’s breath
held, and her clasp tightened on the knife as she thrust the blade into the
wound. It struck the bullet at once. It wasn’t as deep as she had feared. But
it had gone deep enough to do, goodness knew, how much damage.
She worked until
she thought she had the tip of the blade under the slug, and began to try to inch
it to the surface.
Adam stiffened as
his father and brother held him down. He bit into the fabric to stifle his
screams as his fingers dug into his father’s arms. Ben’s mouth moved in silent
prayer as he held his son firm against the table.
Keeping her focus
centered on her work kept Jacoba from seeing the pain around her that she now
had a hand in inflicting. The knife continued to work, and Adam continued to
fight against his agony. As last she got the bullet close enough to the surface
where she could get it with her fingers. As she did Adam’s body went slack as
he passed out.
Jacoba held the hateful,
blood-covered piece of lead up to the light. “It’s hard to believe that
something so small can do so much harm.” She threw it with a vengeance into the
hearth then turned back to Adam. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair and
swallowed a sob. If not for his harsh, rapid breathing, no one could convince
her that he still lived.
Without a word,
Hop Sing wiped away more blood, though there didn’t seem to be as much as
before.
“Pa, I need for
you to set him up so I can bandage him.” She wiped her hands on a towel then
began to fold another into a square pad.
Ben raised his
unconscious son and held him against his chest. His arms closed around Adam,
and he tried to let himself feel the fight for survival that raged inside his
child. Then he looked to Jacoba as she did her work, and pride shone in the
depths of his blackened eyes. She had stepped in and taken over without
hesitation, as she had with Hoss. Since the day of her birth, she had been
meant for a Cartwright. Ben lowered his head, and so that only Adam could hear,
thanked him for bringing her there.
Jacoba wouldn’t
let herself look at an agonized father or two grief-stricken brothers, and it
gladdened her that she couldn’t see herself. She wound the long strip of sheeting
around Adam’s waist to hold the thick pad against the wound. She had seen few
men before that had been shot, and never as bad as this. And as fate would decree,
it happened to be her own, beloved Adam. She cut the end of the fabric with her
teeth then ripped it and tied it around him and fastened it with a secure knot.
When she had
finished, Ben lowered his son back onto the table. He pushed back the wisp of
errant hair that had fallen over Adam’s forehead and had since his childhood.
Hop Sing took the
pan of reddened water and scuttled back into the kitchen for some fresh.
One of Adam’s
bloody hands hung off the side of the table. Jacoba took it and clasped it to
her heart. Her lips began to quiver as she fought back the inevitable tears. It
still wasn’t time. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him. I can’t; not this
way and not yet.” Her doleful gaze searched Ben’s face for some sort of
reassurances. “In thirty or forty years when we’ve had a full life together,
maybe then I can let him go, but not now.”
Ben took firm hold
of her shoulders. “We’ll take it as it comes, daughter. We’ll do all we can,
and we won’t let him go without a fight. But if it’s his time, then it God’s
Will, and we must abide by it.”
“I know, but that
doesn’t make it any easier.”
Ben wrapped his
arms around her and held her to him, Adam’s hand between them. She hid her face
against his broad chest and let herself be cloaked in his strength and struggled
against the yearning to cry. Adam needed for her to stay strong and in control,
and bawling like a baby wouldn’t do it.
22
For the first time
since he had been brought in, Jacoba found herself alone with her husband. Hoss
and Hop Sing had taken food and coffee to the men that still rode guard. Ben
and Joe were outside to take the reports from those that continued to ride in
then right back out. The likelihood of further attack remained, and they all
knew it. The day had ended, but the threat hadn’t.
The big red
leather chair had been moved next to the dining table. Jacoba sat in it, and
held one of Adam’s fine, brown hands, which had been cleansed of blood, as had
been her face. His shirt had been removed and burned, and Ben had covered him
with a blanket to his chest. Still unconscious, Adam, for the moment, seemed to
be in no further danger.
Jacoba couldn’t
sleep. She knew to try would be futile, so she didn’t even bother. She raised
his hand and kissed the tips of his senseless fingers, and her eyes dashed to
him. He didn’t react. Complete hopelessness tried to swamp her, but she pushed
it away. Her gaze drank in every inch of him. He made her think of a lean,
spirited young stallion – and now he could be dying.
She tried to turn
her mind from such a thing, but it stayed fixed, and she couldn’t budge it. How
she wished someone could explain why things happened the way they did. She had
been married to this wonderful creature for little over a month, now carried
their first child, and lived in a county close to being as boundless as the
love she and Adam shared. They were surrounded by people who loved them, and
whom they loved in return. But now all that had been good and right faced the
threat of being snuffed out as the flame of a candle because of one cruelly
placed bullet.
As she sat there –
somewhere in a niche of her mind – she heard the door open then heavy footfalls
cross the hardwood of the floor. She didn’t look up, since she knew she would
only see Ben, who had come to check on his son again.
“My Jacoba.”
Her head shot up.
“Papa.” She put Adam’s hand down then bounded from the chair and flung her arms
around her father’s neck. The effort not to cry had become even more of a
challenge. “Oh, Papa.”
“My sweet girl.”
One arm squeezed around his daughter while the other held onto the buffalo gun.
“I’d sooner cut off my right arm to the shoulder than to have this happen.”
“Oh, Papa, he’s so
badly hurt.” She clung to him like a frightened little girl. “Sometimes I’m not
even certain that he’s still alive.” She released him and stepped back. “But
you and the boys weren’t hurt or, Heaven forbid, killed. Even a woman can only
take so much.”
“We’re all fine,
not so much as a scratch, even your mama.” One corner of his mouth crooked. “I
left her with Henry Waxman and Miss Emily. Some of those men did get into the
settlement, and they made their biggest mistake when they tried to get into the
store. One of them had the bad misfortune to get in front of Miss Emily’s
Ventilator. And I always did say that your mama wielded a mean skillet. And
your brother Isaac did a father proud.” Nathan’s eyes flicked to his
son-in-law. “He killed the man that did this. Only he saw who fired that shot,
and he brought him right out of the saddle with a good clean head shot.”
Jacoba wasn’t
bloodthirsty, but this satisfied her. Her adored brother had brought down the
man that had shot her Adam. “Good, I’m only sorry that it had to be my
sensitive Isaac.”
“Don’t be, he told
me that he’s glad he’s the one who did it. That anyone who’d hurt you and Adam
deserves to die.” He put a hand to her cheek, and she leaned into it. “I’ll
tell you the truth, girl, at first I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision in
giving my blessing for this marriage. I wasn’t sure he was the right one for my
only daughter, but after that day he brought you to us I learned better.” He
kissed her on the forehead. “When he left so much behind him to keep you safe,
well, a father can’t ask for more than that from a son-in-law.” He gave her a
pat. “You stay close to him for as long as you’ve got.”
“I’ve never been
able to stay away from him.”
“No matter how
this goes, you’ll always know that he loves you. Anyone could tell that from
the way he looks at you, and watches you when you aren’t looking.” He hugged
and kissed her again. “Now I’ve got to get back out with your brothers in case
those men try to make another run on us. We beat ‘em back pretty good, but you
never know with that kind.” Then, with one last hug, he went out.
Jacoba could hear
the exchange of voices outside then the beat of hooves as a horse galloped
away, and she felt so alone. As if in slow motion, she went to the head of the
table and looked down on the one true love of her life. And she knew that if he
should pass from her that there never would be nor could there be another.
After Adam Cartwright, how could she want anyone else?
She pushed back
his hair, then bent over and kissed him on the forehead, but he didn’t move or
wake. Then she kissed his right cheekbone where the ugly bruise – now faded
into memory – had once been and then the left.
“You can’t leave
me like this. My life would be empty and meaningless without you in it. Mama
was right when she said I was blessed when I found you.” She rubbed a thumb
over one of his dense eyebrows. “And now that we’re going to have a child,
he’ll need his father to help him grow into a fine man. I can’t, I don’t want
to do it alone.” If only she could look into those sultry eyes. “I love you,
Adam.” Then she kissed the cool, mute lips and could deny the tears no longer.
She let her head drop, and her lithe body began to shudder.
The nearness of
the man that had brought so much into her life now brought only heartache.
Death hovered close by, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stave it off.
Supportive hands
on her back made her turn around to look into soft, sad emerald eyes. “Joe.”
She threw herself into his arms.
Joe could feel his
brother’s wife tremble with weeping that came from deep inside her. “Don’t cry,
Jacoba. Please don’t cry.” He stroked her silky head. “Adam’s right here and so
am I.” It had taken tragedy to make him see that he had been wrong about her.
His obstinacy had kept him from admitting it to anyone, even himself, in spite
of what he saw. But as he looked back on it he could see what he hadn’t allowed
himself to, which proved that hindsight is always clearer. His hardheaded
adherence to those vicious stories he had heard had blinded him, but now the
evidence that they were wrong shook and wept in his arms.
Her crying gained
momentum in the safe haven of the young man’s embrace. Her legs began to
buckle, and Joe tried to hold her up as her sobs grew more distraught. It
wasn’t doing any good so he sat in the floor and cradled her against him.
“Please don’t cry so hard.”
She heard vague
words, but they held no meaning for her. The only thing on her mind was Adam,
and that she could lose him. Then another voice came through a shadowy cloud,
or she thought it did. Firm hands took her arms, and she felt herself pulled
up. She reached back. “Joe.”
Ben had her now.
“Jacoba, Jacoba.” It felt like he held his own born daughter, and it hurt to
see her so torn up and to know why. She was in a dark, terrible place where he
couldn’t reach her, and it frightened him to think of how she would be if Adam
died. “Jacoba, child.”
Somewhere in her
hysterical brain Jacoba realized who had her, and it only seemed to fan the
flames. She clung to him like a life preserver to keep from drowning in her
grief. Then she muttered something, and even she wasn’t sure of what she had
said.
Ben brought her up
from the floor, and gathered her into his solid arms, and sat down in the chair
with her. “Stop crying, child. Adam knows you love him, but this isn’t helping
anything.”
“Baby,” she
managed to choke out, “our baby.”
Hoss and Hop Sing
had returned and stood with Joe as they watched in helplessness.
Ben pressed her
head against his shoulder. “If it’s to be, child, you and Adam will have
children.”
Hoss stepped
forward. “Pa, you don’t understand. Adam and Jacoba are already gonna have a baby. I guess what with all that’s been goin’
on, they wanted to wait ‘til things quieted down to tell you.”
Ben’s eyes welled.
“A baby.” He looked at the frantic wife of his eldest son, and mother of his
first grandchild. Two of the gifts he had long hoped for had been bestowed on
him, but now he could lose the one that
Joe’s left hand
went to his hip and rested on the grip of his pistol. “I could kill Alfeus
Troy.”
“You’d havta get
behind me, Joe.”
Hop Sing’s fist
tightened on the empty basket’s handle. “You both not fast enough.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jacoba had cried
herself to sleep in the sanctuary of Ben’s arms in the big chair where she had
slept safe until midnight. When he had stirred, however, she had awakened, at
once fearful of being taken away from Adam’s side. She hadn’t gone back to
sleep.
Adam had begun to
heat up through the night. Jacoba, still weary from the previous evening’s
hysterics, bathed his throat in cool water. He hadn’t moved since he had passed
out when she had taken the bullet from him, and now he appeared more dead than
alive. Some of his color had drained away with the loss of blood, and he no
longer looked like tanned leather like he had when she had first seen him.
Every sense she
had centered on him: the touch of his hot sweaty skin, the sound of his soft
breathing, the lingering scent of gunpowder that hung about him, the bitter
taste of dread as she watched him.
She dipped the
cloth in the water and wrung it out then washed the full, broad chest that many
nights had been her pillow. She put a hand over his heart, and a ragged breath
ran through her as she felt not the vigorous beat but a battle to live. “Keep
fighting.” Her wet fingers brushed over a wan cheek.
“He will.” Hoss
had just come from the kitchen with a loaded breakfast plate. “An’ you gotta do
the same, but not eatin’ ain’t the way to do it. Hop Sing told me how you been
peckin’ around like a chicken.” He took the towel from her and handed her the
plate. “Now I’ll do this while you eat.”
“Hoss, I’m not…”
“It ain’t gonna do
Adam no good if’n you make yourself sick, an’ it sure ain’t gonna help the baby
none neither. Now you set right down an’ start while I get you a cup o’
coffee.” He eased her into the chair.
“No coffee, just
some water.”
“All right, but I
expect some o’ that to be gone when I get back.”
Jacoba gave the
food a wary eye as Hoss went back into the kitchen. The smell could almost be
enticing, but her stomach had a notion to rebel. “No, not this time.” She took
a bite of the crisp bacon, and her insides acted up only a little, but it had
no taste to speak of.
When Hoss returned
one strip of bacon and a couple bites of egg were gone. “I bet it tastes good.”
He handed her the glass.
Her nose wrinkled.
“About like paper, but I guess I am sort of hungry.”
Jacoba watched as
he wiped the perspiration from Adam’s face. It still amazed her at how gentle
he could be. At first glance, one could think him a brute of a man, but those
who knew him knew better. He was a simple man, not stupid, as some might
believe, but uncomplicated. And he saw things as a child would, and one was
that you didn’t hurt others unless they hurt you first. Or someone you cared
about. And now with compassion and devotion – with the touch of a feather – he
took care of his injured brother.
“I haven’t seen Pa
since last night.”
“Outside,
riders’re still comin’ in with reports. He’d much rather be in here with you
an’ Adam, but he’s workin’ to keep us all safe.”
Jacoba thought of
her father-in-law holding her while she cried, and then as she slept, and a
warm spot blossomed in her bosom. She raised her eyes to Hoss’ back. “Please
tell me if you think they’ll try again.”
“Don’t know.” He
re-wet the cloth. “But if’n they do we’ll be waitin’ for ‘em.”
Jacoba shivered at
the thought of more being hurt and killed, and maybe this time Papa and her
brothers would be touched. “Hoss, I’m sorry for the way I behaved last night,
I…”
Before she could
finish the blue eyes flashed around. “No, Miss Jacoba, don’t you apologize for
that. If’n anybody had a right to go off that way it was you. Adam layin’ here
shot an’ you carryin’ that little baby; no, ma’am, you ain’t got nothin’ to be
sorry for.”
She smiled, and
rubbed her stomach as a light upset burbled across it. She took another bite of
egg, and it seemed to set something off. “Not now.”
“Miss Jacoba.”
She plunked the
plate and glass on the floor then – with a clipped ‘excuse me’ – ran for the
door as she capped a hand over her mouth.
Hoss watched her
go and tried not to grin. He remembered seeing Felicia go through the same
thing when she had been carrying Joe. As a child he hadn’t understood why, but
he did now. He turned to his brother and began to wash one of the long arms. “Poor
little thing. Adam, you oughtta be ashamed o’ yourself.” This time a faint grin
appeared, tinged by the poignancy of the situation, and lasted but a second.
“Don’t you go an’ die on us, brother. Don’t you do it. You got too much to come
back to.”
23
As they day
progressed, the succession of riders thinned as the imminent threat of another
attack waned. The state of alert remained high and the tension taught. The
guards kept up their patrols on the outer fringes of the home settlement. They
would not be caught unawares.
Hoss had gone
outside with Joe so that their father could be alone with Adam and Jacoba for a
while.
Ben drifted nearby
as Jacoba fought Adam’s rising fever with cool, wet cloths. In less than two
days it had risen at an alarming rate, and nothing she did seemed to slow it.
She looked over at her father-in-law. He stood at the back dining room window, his
dark, brooding eyes fixed on the mountains behind the house. The way he held
his body and the fierce concentration on his face reminded her so much of Adam.
Ben Cartwright
loved his sons, lived for his sons, and would die for his sons. His life
centered on them, and if anyone dared to harm them they did so at their own
peril. Punishment would be harsh and exacting, and the one on the business end
of it would rue his indiscretion, though not for long. If Adam died it unnerved
Jacoba to think of the terrible vengeance which would be wrought upon those
responsible for his death. But in a deep pit inside her she held a secret
desire for bloody retribution.
Unobserved, Ben
looked around as Jacoba ministered to his son. Adam had found a rare prize in
this slip of a girl, a healthy, beautiful child that would bear him fine sons,
and a warm, nurturing young woman with a hidden temper that sometimes flared.
She lit a fire in his eldest like no one he had ever seen. He knew her father
and brothers, though not as well as he would like. They had stood – without
question or hesitation – shoulder-to-shoulder with him and his sons against
As Jacoba looked
up he turned his attention back out the window. She suspected that he had been
watching her, and didn’t want her to know it. She had known him long enough to
know that something prayed on his mind other than the obvious. It came more as
a sense of what she had come to expect from him more than anything he said or
did. In fact, he said very little and seemed to go out of his way to avoid eye
contact with her. And the only handle she could put on it would be guilt. Ben
Cartwright behaved like a guilty man.
“Adam has always
been so proud of his family, especially his father.”
“I doubt he’s very
proud of me now.” He turned to her, and she had never seen such clarity of
remorse in him before. “If not for me maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.”
“He knew the price
he might have to pay to protect what he loved, and I know that he would do it
all over again if he had to. He never questioned coming to the defense of his
family and his home, and his very way of life from those who thought to take
it.”
“And for his
child. Hoss told me last night.”
“We were going to
tell you when we came home, but things simply got out of hand.” She put the
cloth back into the basin, and went to him. “Pa, none of this is your fault.
You were defending what you have struggled to build from the wilderness that
you will leave as your legacy to your sons.”
“You don’t
understand, daughter. I had a chance to stop this before it even happened, and
I didn’t. You might even say I allowed Adam to be shot.”
“You can never
make me believe that. I know you were there, but I also know that you didn’t
see it until it was too late to stop it.”
“Yes, I was there,
and I didn’t even know who had done it until later.”
“Then I don’t see
how you could have stopped it.”
“By letting the
man who did it die when I had the chance.”
Jacoba felt like
she had just been slapped across the face as she watched him turn back to the
window.
“His name was
Langford Pool. He was a hired gun that Alfeus Troy had brought in. That night
when we went into town to get Joe, I went into the Sazarac,
She stepped next
to him and rested a hand on his arm, but he didn’t look at her.
“Pool said one
Cartwright was much like another, and it didn’t matter to him. So they faced
off right there.” It seemed such a struggle for him to look at her. “Pool was
fast, but Adam was a hair’s breadth faster.”
She could see the
dark thoughts pass through his mind. For such a strong, solid man, it did her
heart an injury to see him like this. “Go on.”
“I sent for the
doctor to patch Pool up. He thanked me for saving his life then he told me I
may regret it, and regret it I do. If I hadn’t he would’ve laid there and bled
to death and Adam…” His eyes strayed past her to his son.
“If Pool had died
there, it might have been someone else who shot Adam, and that man could have
killed him.”
His somber gaze
snapped back to her. “And he might’ve missed altogether.”
“But we can’t know
that, and we never will. You did what any decent man would, and Adam would be
the first to tell you that, but he can’t so I will.” She moved her hand to the
side of his face. “You did the right thing and you have nothing to feel guilty
for. We do what we think is right at the time. And sometimes our decisions come
back to haunt us, but that doesn’t make them wrong. You couldn’t have just
stood there and allowed that man to die and still live with yourself; you’re
not the kind I’m pleased to say.”
Her warm smile
reached out to him and soothed his wounded soul. He looked deep into the raven
eyes, and they conveyed the love and compassion that he so needed right now.
She put her arms around him, and he pulled her close and enfolded her in his
grasp. As they stood there she put her lips close to his ear and began to
recite the 23rd Psalm. Two frightened people who loved the same man
held onto one another, and their faith for support as the big grandfather clock
struck five.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A dark cloak had
long since draped over the land, and those that dwelled upon it. Fires of the
night guard lit small pockets of the darkness as they kept watch for any
further incursions. Inside the big house, however, a different kind of vigil
held sway.
Ben stopped behind
his daughter-in-law. “He doesn’t look as well as he did this morning.”
Jacoba ran a cloth
over her husband’s sweaty face. “I can’t seem to fight this fever, no matter
how hard I try. And we both know what will happen if I can’t.” She stopped and
turned around. “This is beyond anything I can do. Pa, he needs a doctor.”
“The only doctor
for miles is in
A ray of hope
shone in her face. “Hoss was telling me this morning that the other doctor died
and that this is a new one. Maybe he hasn’t been influenced yet. And it doesn’t
matter if he has. A doctor is supposed to help anyone who needs him, no matter
what he thinks of them.”
“I know, daughter,
but men being what they are…”
She turned her
back on him. “No, I won’t hear that.” She put her hands over her ears. “I
can’t.”
He whirled her
around to face him, and the tears on the face of his son’s wife touched him. He
recalled her from the night before, and it wrenched at his heart. “I said we
would fight for him, and we will, no matter what it takes.” His arms went
around her, and he held her close. And I
don’t go back on my promises, he thought.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dr. Everett Keys
had never been so biting mad in his life. Roused from a warm bed, told to get
dressed and gather what he needed at gunpoint, then spirited out of town by
three cowhands didn’t set well. They hadn’t even seen fit to tell him where
they were going when he demanded to know. So when they ushered him into the big
rough-hewn log house, he was cocked and ready for a confrontation.
“I demand to know
the meaning if this.”
Ben greeted him
with the graciousness of a host and a handshake. He had learned a long time ago
that you got more work from a mule with kindness than a stick. “I’m sorry for
the necessity of that, doctor. I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
“Keys,
“Ben Cartwright.”
Keys tottered back
on his heels – he was in the presence of the infamous patriarch of the Ponderosa
himself. Even though he had been in town for less than a month he knew of this
man, and what he had heard didn’t make him want to make the elder Cartwright’s
acquaintance. But then his stormy gray eyes strayed to the dining room. A man
who appeared to be unconscious lay on the table, and a dark, striking young
woman stood beside him, his hand clutched in hers.
“Doctor, my son is
in desperate need of your help,” Ben put a steady hand on the man’s back and
extended the other in that direction, “so if you would.”
Keys gave him a
harsh glance then started forward.
Jacoba squeezed
Adam’s hand as she watched the stocky, russet-haired man approach. After all
that had happened, she didn’t trust anyone
from that wretched town, but she also knew that she had no choice. Without a
doctor’s help, she feared her husband would die. But, to be exact, she had no
idea what this man could do that she hadn’t already.
Keys stepped to
the patient he had had thrust on him, and put his medical bag on the table near
the man’s legs. The young woman stood her ground as her eyes narrowed on him
and glittered with mistrust.
Ben stood behind
Jacoba, and they watched as the doctor took a long, fancy carved wooden tube –
bell-shaped on one end – from his bag. He placed the flared side against Adam’s
chest over his heart then put his ear to the other and listened. Her eyes never
left him as he put the instrument away and continued to make over her husband.
He pulled back the blanket then took out a pair of scissors. He cut through the
binding, but as he tried to pull the pad loose it wouldn’t budge.
“It’s stuck to the
wound from the dried blood. If I wet it that should do it.”
Without a word,
Ben dashed to the liquor cabinet, and came back with a carafe of amber liquid.
“There’s no reason this won’t work.”
Keys took it. “No,
there isn’t.” He unstopped it and sniffed. Brandy and it smelled like good
quality, probably Napoleon. Still, it would do the job as well as water. He saturated
the stained fabric then sat the decanter with what little remained aside. With
careful fingers, he began to work the pad loose.
When the wound had
been exposed, Jacoba saw at once that it had become red and angry, and it
unnerved her. She had seen this before, and she knew what could come from it.
“I assume that the
bullet has been removed.”
“Yes, my
daughter-in-law did it, and she worked as well as any doctor, better than some
I’ve seen.”
Keys felt like he
had just been punched. “Then maybe you should have just let me sleep.” Almost
from the second he spoke, he regretted it. “I apologize for that, Mrs.
Cartwright, that was a heartless thing to say.” He looked down at her hand as
she grasped his wrist. This wasn’t the dainty grip of a delicate girl. He
looked back into those black eyes that had softened some, though he still
discerned a sharp edge to them.
“Please, doctor, a
Cartwright is as entitled to his life as anyone and more so than some.”
He didn’t think he
had made a mistake in hearing a veiled threat in her words. “I can’t promise
anything, but I’ll do the best that I can.”
The suggestion of
a smile turned her fine mouth as she released his arm. “That you try is all
anyone can ask.”
“I’ll try, because
I’m a doctor, and I can do no less and remain true to the oath I took. Now I’m
going to require a lot of extremely hot water and plenty of towels. What I’m
going to do should draw out any poison and infection before it gets a good
hold.”
Ben nodded and started
toward the kitchen. “Hop Sing!”
“I can remember my
grandmother doing this when I was growing up, and I don’t recall her ever
losing anyone. I didn’t get all my knowledge from medical school.”
“It doesn’t matter
where it comes from, but how you use what you learn does.” Her eyes softened
even further. “Thank you, doctor.”
“I’m already here,
and I could do nothing else.”
Jacoba’s right
hand dropped, and she sought out the hardness of the knife. You could, but I wouldn’t recommend it,
she thought.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Ben returned
with the first pan of boiling hot water – Hop Sing right behind him with the
towels – so began a process that would try them all to their limits.
Keys doused the
first towel then wrung it out with a wooden spoon and hands that reddened in a
second, but he showed no discomfort. Then he placed it against the wound and
pressed down. As it cooled, he replaced it with another that Ben had ready for
him.
Jacoba sat on the
table, and held Adam against the agony that brought him to the edge of
consciousness with the placement of each compress. She talked in soft, comforting
tones, and soothed as best she could. Once, his fevered eyes flashed open and
seemed to set on her face, but she wondered if he even saw her. She patted his
face dry of the perspiration that pasted down the heavy black hair that gleamed
in the lamplight.
Hoss and Joe had
gone down by the stable to get as far away from their brother’s screams as possible.
They could still hear them, but it wasn’t like being in the same room with
them, and seeing Adam’s torture. Joe’s eyes scrunched shut, and he turned his
back to the house. Hoss gripped his arm.
“I can’t stand
this any more.” Joe pulled loose from his big brother’s grasp and went into the
stable. The door slammed shut.
Hoss didn’t try to
stop him, in fact, he wished he could have gone with him, but someone needed to
be there when the outriders came in with news. His eyes trailed up to the house
as he warmed his hands over the small fire he had built. “You hang on, older
brother, you just hang on.”
As the doctor kept
up the fight, Adam began to grow weaker. The hoped for solution was taking its
toll, and they had begun to wonder if he would live through it.
Ben’s tired gaze
rose from his son. “I don’t think he can take much more of this.”
“I’ll stop after
this one, and we’ll wait and watch.”
Keys’ placed the
last towel and held it down as Adam cried out then collapsed breathless into
Jacoba’s lap. She clutched him to her, and her head dropped over his. Adam’s
pants came hard and fast and his heart beat so beneath her hand that it
frightened her close to panic. The idea that she could lose him right here and
now brought to her such terror. And then his haunting plea that he be allowed
to die in her arms slammed against her like an avalanche. Her arms closed even
more around him, and she rested her cheek against the side of his head. “I
promised. I promised.”
Once the wet cloth
was taken away, the doctor put a dry one over the wound. Then he checked Adam
again with the stethoscope and heard a fast, frantic heartbeat. The man had
endured the purest torment at his hands and fought harder to live than he
thought he had ever seen anyone.
After that, time
resumed its tedious drag. Ben and the doctor stayed close by and drank plenty
of coffee that Hop Sing kept them well supplied with.
Jacoba’s eyes flicked
up as Joe came in, but they didn’t stay with him long. A warm smile softened
her face as she looked back to the marvel that was her Adam. It felt good to
hold him and be there for him as he had so many times for her. “I’m still
here.” But he gave no indication that he had heard her. He lay so motionless, and, from all outward
appearances, lifeless, that it distressed her to no end. If she hadn’t been
able to feel the life that struggled and stirred within him she would have
thought the same. She rested a hand over his heart, and his soft breathing felt
like the brush of a vernal breeze against her skin. “I remember the first time
you kissed me.” He didn’t move. “I had no idea how wonderful such a simple
thing could be until that day. It made me feel like a missing part of me had
been found.” She rested the side of her face against his hot, moist forehead.
“Please don’t take that part from me now.”
Dr. Keys stepped
to the table, and the raven eyes bore into him like they would an interloper.
He lifted the towel and saw that the skin around the wound had become more pink
than red. “Your father-in-law told me that you haven’t been married to his son
long.” He reached into his bag as her unrelenting gaze narrowed on him, and he
knew she still didn’t trust him.
“I don’t know why
that should concern you.”
He used the
stethoscope to listen to Adam’s chest again. Then he placed a hand against his
patient’s forehead, and found that the fever hadn’t given in yet. “No reason, I
was just trying to make small talk. You needn’t tell me if you’d rather not.”
“Just over a
month, and before you ask, my father is Nathan Martell.”
Keys’ head jerked
around, and he saw her pride in the fact. He had also heard of Nathan Martell
and his four sons, and that they were as fierce and protective of kith and kin
and what belonged to them as Ben Cartwright and his sons. Now they had come
together as one family, and he wondered if this spelled trouble for the town.
He also wondered if he would get off of the Ponderosa alive.
Ben came from the
office with an envelope in his hand. “Doctor, this is for you.” Keys just
frowned at it. “It’s your fee for being, as you put it, jerked out in the dead
of night without so much as a fair-thee-well.” Ben’s expression softened around
the outer fringes. “And for fighting to save my son’s life.”
Jacoba could see
that Ben’s magnanimous gesture surprised the doctor, and she surmised that he
had listened to and believed stories himself.
“My men’ll see you
safely back to town, but first I would ask one more thing of you.”
Keys eyed him with
suspicion. “I’m not sure I want to know what that would be.”
“Others were
injured helping me and my sons hold off those that thought to take what they
had no right to. I would only ask that, before you start back, you see what you
can do for them. You will be well compensated in addition to this.” Ben raised
the envelope.
Keys stood quiet
for several seconds then shook his head. “I think I had better go straight back
to town. If they find me gone they may start looking for me, and they could
come here. I don’t think you would want that. If you will have your men wait
for me outside town, I’ll go home, get some more supplies then meet them again
as soon as I can and come back here.”
Now suspicion came
into Ben’s face. “You could very easily turn in my men and not come back at
all.”
“I could, and you
could have very easily had me killed, but you didn’t. The building of trust has
to begin somewhere.” He extended his hand. “You have my word that I’ll come
back, and only you and your men will know about it. For what it’s worth, I want
you to know that I didn’t agree with what
“But you didn’t
warn us.”
“I didn’t find out
about it until the day it happened. And by then I could have done nothing that
would have made any difference.”
Ben seemed to have
to think about it then he shook the man’s hand and gave him the envelope.
Keys stuck his fee
in his vest pocket. “When I come back I’ll look in on your son again.” He broke
into an ironic smile. “From now on I won’t believe everything I hear.”
Jacoba continued
to observe him through her thick lashes as he tied a strip of sheeting loose
around Adam’s waist to keep the towel in place. He listened to his patient’s
heart and lungs, and then felt his face. Adam’s breathing shuddered, and she
thought her own heart would stop. She looked at the doctor, and she met with a
warm smile and compassionate gray eyes. “It’s all right; he’s only settling
himself from his ordeal.” And then he did something that she hadn’t expected;
he patted the back of her hand. “I promise. I’ll come back, one way or the
other.”
Then the man
packed up his bag, put on his coat and hat, and walked out with Ben. She
couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t matter. She looked down at
Adam as he rested in her arms and felt the overwhelming urge to look into those
passionate eyes and hear his rich voice. “Please wake up. We’re waiting for
you.” He didn’t react at all. She hunched over him and kissed his still lips,
and then the soft, gentle weeping began.
24
Everett Keys
thumped his medical bag down on the dining table near Adam’s feet. “I apologize
for being so late. I left town not long after I got there, but I didn’t think I
was going to find your men.”
Ben’s eyes darted to
his daughter-in-law, who now sat in the chair. “It’s all right, doctor, you’re
here now.”
Jacoba just
watched – hands gathered in her lap – and one corner of her mouth crimped. What
the good doctor didn’t know and what she had overheard Pa tell Hoss was that
the men had been given orders to stay well hidden. They were to make sure that
the doctor had come alone, and no one waited to pounce before they made their
presence known. Like hers, Ben’s trust had only extended so far.
Her eyes followed
the doctor’s movements as he made his examination of his patient. She remained
seated, and Ben came to stand behind the chair. Strong, firm hands rested on
her shoulders and added reassurance.
When he finished,
Keys turned from the table. He had seen it before – the anxious faces of family
as they waited to hear the prognosis for a loved one, as with the two before
him. It never failed to twist his heart as it did now. “The wound isn’t as
inflamed as it was, and the skin around it has pretty much returned to a normal
color. I am, however, still concerned with his fever. It doesn’t appear to be
going up, but, at the same time, it doesn’t appear to be going down either.” He took a small amber glass bottle filled with
liquid from the bag. “Continue to bathe him in cool water, and if, when he
comes to, this should help with any pain.” He held it out, and Ben Cartwright
took it.
Ben thanked him as
his hand closed around the bottle. “Doctor, I have been thinking that maybe we
should move him to a bed where he would be more comfortable.”
“No, I wouldn’t
try to move him just yet. He’s doing fine right where he is, and it could only
complicate things. Just do what I told you, and I’ll check in on him again
before I start back to town.” He took his coat and hat from one of the chairs
where he had put them. “Now, if you’ll get someone to take me to those men you
told me about, I’ll see what I can do for them.”
“Thank you, doctor;
it will be greatly appreciated by them and their families, and by me.”
When Ben went out
with him, Jacoba went into the kitchen to refill the basin with fresh, cooler
water and get another towel. As soon as she stepped through the doorway into
the dining room she froze in her tracks. Ben stood at the table and stroked his
son’s hair. Even the most dimwitted of fools could see the outpouring of love
from this stalwart, forceful, self-possessed man for his injured child. Then
her heart thought to shatter as his composure broke. He lowered his head, put a
hand over his face and wept.
She put the things
down, and went to him and slipped an arm across his shaking back, and leaned
her head against him. Her tears ran unchecked as Ben held her close.
No one noticed
Hoss and Little Joe as they stood just inside the front door, their own grief
evident for anyone who cared to look.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As the day drew to
a close the number of riders that came and went dwindled. Tensions had eased
some as things had begun to return to a more normal footing, though guard
continued to be maintained. Everyone knew that the perfect time for another
attack would be when defenses were lowered and the defenders grew careless.
But in the big
house apprehension remained high for they had more to worry about than another
attack.
Exhausted, Jacoba
sat in the chair, Adam’s hand in hers. A wet towel covered his chest in the
continual battle against the fever, to now and then be rewet with cooler water,
always careful to keep the wound dry. The doctor had gone only about twenty
minutes earlier, but he had left behind very little in the way of
encouragement.
The house had
become silent as a mausoleum save for the crackle of the fire and the ponderous
tick of the grandfather clock. Ever duskier light entered through the windows
as evening shadows deepened.
Jacoba squeezed
the hand she held as she looked over at him. A swell of pride rose inside for
this man she found herself privileged to call husband. She hadn’t known the
true meaning of joy until he had come into her life and shared with her the
gift of love between a man and a woman.
As she leaned her
head back into the supple leather, her eyelids drifted down, and she began to
hum the soft melody of ‘Amazing Grace’. She hadn’t allowed herself this
pleasure in some time, and she needed the comfort of the hymn. The mild
vibration of her voice relaxed the stress from her mind and body and allowed
sleep to steal in like a gentle fog to put away the troubles of past days, at
least for a short while. And she wasn’t aware when she and Adam were no longer
alone.
Joe looked down on
her and his brother, locked in love, and it made him smile. Pa had told him how
she had held Adam through the terrible ordeal the doctor had put him through.
From Hop Sing he had learned how she had grieved while they were away, and how
she had stood with him, armed and refusing to run. And he could never erase
from his memory the look on her face when she had seen Adam wild with frenzy
and bleeding in Hoss’ arms or how she had cried unrestrained while he himself
held her. He stooped in front of her and took in the delicate countenance, the
lines of worry wiped away in slumber. “I’m sorry, Jacoba.” With a tentative
hand, he touched the spot where he had slapped her and wished he could take it
back. “I’m sorry, sister.” He rose and kissed her on the temple, looked over at
Adam, then turned on his heel and went back out into the approaching night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hoss slipped into
the house in the wee small hours right before midnight in search of something
to eat. Not a bite of anything had passed his lips since ten, and his stomach
rumbled in objection to the abuse forced on it. And it made a handy excuse to
check on Adam, not that he needed one. Once in the kitchen he rummaged until he
found Hop Sing’s stash of gingersnaps.
He had just
stuffed one into his mouth as he left the kitchen. He stopped and stood there
for a few seconds then he went to the bureau, sat his booty on top of it, and
took out a blanket. With steps too soft for such a big man, he eased around the
dining table to where Jacoba slept. For a moment he just looked down on her and
his brother, and it fostered a warm spot to form on his full chest. Then he
arranged the blanket over her so as not to disturb her, kissed her on the top
of the head then went and got his cookies and left.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The morning
sunlight brought with it an even greater hint of winter than it had any time
before. A cold wind blew through the mountains and the trees and chilled
everything it touched. Snow clouds hung low and ominous in the gray sky as a
portent in the eerie calm.
Jacoba had slept
the night through in the chair, and never once lost her hold on Adam’s hand.
Her sleep had been sound and, for the most part, peaceful just in the knowledge
of his being so close by. But then with a sudden jolt, her eyes flew open and
she became wide awake and gulping air.
The dream had been
so real, but had it been a dream or a bad memory returning to haunt her sleep.
Her dress had been the starkest black as she watched Hoss and Joe lower their
brother into a wooden coffin. She had tried to pull him back to her, but Ben
wouldn’t let her. “He’s gone, daughter, let him go.”
She leapt from the
chair to Adam’s side. In her panic she couldn’t even tell if he continued to
breathe. Her hands trembled so hard that she couldn’t keep them still as she
touched his face and found it cool. Had the fever broken or had she lost him
through the night? “Adam.” Her breath caught. “Adam.”
In what felt like
an eternity, his eyelids fluttered open, and she found herself greeted by the
most exquisite eyes she had ever seen. They came to her face, and she thought
she caught the merest hint of a frail smile. Words defeated her as the
floodgates opened, and her sobs came close to drowning out the clock. She put
her arm across his chest and rested her head against the side of his.
She had no idea
how long she had been like that when she became aware of her name coming at her
through a mist, but she only recognized her own weeping. Then someone lifted
her chin, and she found herself looking into the fearful eyes of Ben
Cartwright. “He’s back, Pa. He’s come back to us.”
Jacoba ran her
fingers through Adam’s heavy hair and knew that she had just received her most
wondrous gift – her husband’s life. She spoke into his ear then put her head
against his chest and vowed to hold him close for a long as she could.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The February wind
howled through the pines like a pack of ravenous wolves. It had been almost
five months since Adam Cartwright hovered over the threshold of death’s door.
Once his fever had broken, recovery hadn’t been protracted, to which his father
had credited the Cartwright stamina and pure pigheaded stubbornness. Dr. Keys,
who had become a friend and an ally, had been a bit more practical about it and
had sighted his, Jacoba’s and Hop Sing’s nurturing care, thought he didn’t
altogether discount what Ben said.
Adam stood at the
front of the house with his arms around Jacoba. His hands rested on her belly
so that he could feel their baby kick. She leaned her head back against his shoulder,
and breathed deep of the crisp mountain air. But neither felt the icy wind as
it swirled snow around them.
A golden eagle soared
overhead as it reveled in the freedom of a Sierra winter.
“When I think of
all the time I wasted in
“I’ve thought the
same thing.” His head lowered closer to hers. “But it isn’t now. You fill it
and soon so will our child.”
Their lips met as
he crushed her to him. He had kissed women before, but never one that made him
feel the way this one did. She made his blood race in his veins, and stirred a
fire down deep inside him. He let himself get lost in her closeness, and felt
her warm and alluring in his arms.
She held onto him
as her mind returned to that dreadful time in September when she had come so
very close to losing him. Of the long hours when they had battled for the life
that had become more precious to her than she had ever imagined it could. She
kissed the solid jaw line then buried her face against his neck and let the bad
memories dissipate.
“Adam, if you
should ever tire of me and don’t want me, don’t tell me. Simply put a gun to my
heart and pull the trigger, and let me die believing that you still love me.”
He raised her head
and looked into those exquisite eyes that could drown a man like endless black
pools. The image of the girl he had first fallen in love with had been replaced
by that of the woman he adored. His heart beat with all the love it could hold
as he tipped the haughty chin up with his finger. “I could never stop loving
you, not in a thousand lifetimes.”
He kissed the cool
lips as a shiver ran through her. His thick lashes batted as he looked up into
the snow. Then, without a word between them, he put his arm around her waist,
and they went back into the house.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Three months
later, on the fifteenth of May, 1861, Adam and Jacoba Cartwright welcomed their
first-born child, a son, Benjamin Isaac – black-haired, dark-complexioned and
striking just like his parents and loved beyond words.
THE END