Je T’aime, Ma
By Sarah Hendess
Ponderosa
Ranch
Territorio de Alta California, Mexico
April, 1842
Adam rubbed his arms as his father
double-checked the cinch on his horse’s saddle. The morning air was icy, and Adam wished he had put on his coat like his
stepmother, Marie, had suggested.
“You really gonna be gone a whole month, Pa?” he asked.
Ben Cartwright glanced over his
shoulder at his oldest son. “Yes,
son. At least three weeks, anyway. It’s a good four or five days to San
Francisco, and then I’ve got to close that timber deal and hire some men for
our cattle drive this summer. Then
another four or five days home.”
“Pa? You think San Francisco will be part of the United States soon?”
Ben furrowed his brow. He patted his horse’s neck and lumbered over
to his son. “I think everything from
here to the ocean will be part of the United States soon. We’ll either buy it from Mexico, or they’ll
give it up.” He laid a hand on the boy’s
shoulder. “What’s bothering you, boy?”
Adam’s intelligent hazel eyes
snapped up and caught his father’s gaze. He shifted his weight. “Nothin’, Pa.”
A happy squeal issued from the small
ranch house behind them, and father and son smiled at one another. Clearly, Marie had just caught hold of Adam’s
five-year-old brother, Hoss, and attacked him with tickles. Even at six months pregnant, Marie was quick
on her feet. Ben gave Adam’s shoulder a
squeeze.
“Don’t you worry, son. I’ll be home in plenty of time for your
birthday, and well before the baby comes.”
Adam’s eyes darkened. Babies were bad news for his family. His own mother had died giving birth to him,
and Hoss’s mother had been killed by Indians only weeks after Hoss’s birth. Adam had spent the past few months trying to
forget about his forthcoming sibling, but it was harder now that Marie’s belly
was getting so swollen.
He hadn’t wanted another stepmother
in the first place. Hoss’s mother,
Inger, had been the only mother Adam had ever known. After she died, there had been no opportunity
for either Ben or Adam to grieve. They
were among hostile Indians in the middle of Nebraska, and they had a new baby
to care for. So they buried Inger and
carried on. Then six-year-old Adam had
become his father’s primary helpmate and like a second parent to Hoss. A rush of heat still surged through Adam’s
chest whenever he remembered Ben bringing Marie home last summer. Ben had gone off to New Orleans on business
and had returned with a new wife without a word to Adam. In an instant, Adam had gone from being his
father’s partner to being just another eleven-year-old boy who was always
getting reminded to wash behind his ears. Then at Christmas, Ben and Marie had announced that Adam and Hoss would
be getting a baby brother or sister the following summer. It was supposed to be a fantastic
surprise. And for Hoss, it was. The pudgy little boy had thrown his arms
around both Ben and Marie – whom he had started calling “Ma” the instant she’d
arrived on the Ponderosa – and then spent the next several minutes running
excited laps around their tiny living room. Adam had shaken his father’s and stepmother’s hands, congratulated them,
and then cracked open the new book he’d received.
Marie stepped out onto the porch
just then, Hoss clutching her hand. Both
of them were pink-faced and giggling. Adam’s smile returned. Hoss
deserved a mother, and Marie was a good one to him. While he preferred to keep his own distance,
Adam was grateful to her for loving Hoss so well.
“Are you about to leave, mon chéri?” she asked Ben as he
strode toward the house.
“Yes, I think I’ve got everything.” Ben swept an arm around Marie’s waist and
drew her to him. They both laughed as he
bounced off her belly. Ben leaned in and
gave her a soft kiss. “You sure you’ll
be all right with these two rascals while I’m gone?”
Hoss answered for her. “Don’t worry, Pa. I won’t let Adam get in no trouble.”
Ben chuckled again and ruffled his
youngest son’s blond hair. Hoss jumped
up at him, and Ben swung him into his arms.
“My goodness, you’re getting heavy!”
Ben grunted. He gave the boy a quick hug
and set him right back down. “You’re gonna outweigh me any day now!”
Adam decided this was probably
true. His five-year-old brother already
weighed as much as he did, and there was no doubt that in a few years, he’d be
head-and-shoulders taller, too. Hoss
Cartwright was on track to be as big as a grizzly bear.
Ben gave Marie another kiss and then
returned to his horse, where Adam was still standing. He looked down at him and stuck out his right
hand. The left corner of Adam’s mouth
turned up in a half smile as he shook his father’s hand like men should.
“You’re the man of the house while
I’m gone, Adam. You take care of your
mother and brother, you hear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good man.” Ben smiled at Adam and chucked him under the
chin before swinging onto his horse. With a final wave to his family, Ben turned his horse down the trail
leading away from the house.
Adam let out a wistful sigh as he
watched his father disappear on his tall, black stallion. With his father’s permission, he was allowed
to ride Ben’s second horse, but it was no secret that Adam wanted a mount that
was truly his own. One he could saddle
up anytime he wanted and explore the vast expanse of the Ponderosa Ranch. Ben had bought 100,000 acres off the Mexican
government for a song about three years ago. Since then, he’d increased his holdings to 350,000 acres, and he wasn’t
done yet. Adam knew he’d never get to
see it all without his own horse.
When Ben had vanished from view,
Adam turned to Hoss and Marie. “Hoss,
did you get the eggs already?” The
little boy nodded. “All right. Let’s get those stalls cleaned out,
then.” Adam started for the barn, but
when he didn’t hear any footsteps behind him, he turned around. Hoss was still on the porch, looking
questioningly up at Marie.
“You know you have to mind him even
when your father is home,” Marie gently reminded Hoss. “So that goes double when your father is
away. Go on.” She gave Hoss a little nudge. The boy trudged down the porch steps, a scowl
on his face and his hands jammed in his pockets.
“Don’t like cleanin’
out the stalls,” Hoss grumbled. “They
smell like poo.”
Adam bit back a laugh. “That’s the problem, you goose. The animals don’t like it, either.” He slung an arm around his little brother’s
shoulders as they ambled toward the barn.
******
Adam kept Hoss busy until lunchtime
and then let his little brother play for the afternoon while he continued
fussing about. There wasn’t much that
really needed to be done, but Adam was relishing being in charge. He brushed Ben and Marie’s horses until they
shone and then spent the next ten minutes sweeping all the horse hair out of
the barn that he and Hoss had cleaned so carefully that morning. If he’d remembered the horses were blowing
their winter coats, he would have brushed them outside. He tried to brush their milk cow, too, but
patient though she was, Bessie let her disdain for the currycomb be known with
a loud, indignant “MOO!” right in Adam’s ear.
Near suppertime, Adam scrambled up
into the hayloft to feed the horses. He
chucked hay into the stalls and was about to climb down the ladder and go back
to the house when he heard high-pitched mewing coming from one corner of the loft. He tiptoed over. When he was nearly to the corner, he dropped
to his hands and knees and finished his approach at a crawl. Pushing aside some hay, he revealed a fat
black cat lying on her side, a litter of tiny kittens nursing greedily at her
belly.
“Gretel!” Adam exclaimed, breaking
into a grin. “You’ve got yourself a
family! Congratulations!”
Ben had brought Gretel and her male
counterpart, Hansel, home from a trip to Eagle Station two summers ago, but
this was their first litter. Adam
glanced around but didn’t see the burly orange tomcat.
“Probably strutting around the
ranch, pleased to pieces with himself,” Adam muttered. He turned back to Gretel and counted five
kittens: two jet-black like her, two orange like Hansel, and one calico. They couldn’t have been more than a day or
two old – their eyes weren’t even open yet. He smiled at the calico, who was a little smaller than the rest. “You’re gonna be Hoss’s favorite,” he told the kitten. Then he caught Gretel's gaze. “I’ll leave you be. You take good care of these babies.” Still grinning, he crossed the loft,
scampered down the ladder, and dashed to the house.
******
Hoss was beside himself with joy
when Adam told him about the kittens over supper.
“Can we go see ‘em tonight, Adam? Can we? Can we, please?” The boy’s cherubic face glowed as he bounced
up and down in his chair.
“It’s almost dark,” Adam said. “We’ll look at them tomorrow morning.”
Hoss’s face fell, but only
briefly. “Tell me all about ‘em again, Adam!” he begged, his eyes shining.
Adam chuckled and told him for the
fourth time about the five little kittens.
“They boys or girls?” Hoss asked.
“Couldn’t look that closely. They’re only a couple days old. Gretel would get real upset if we started
poking at them already.”
“I think I remember hearing that
calicos are almost always female,” Marie said as she began clearing dishes from
the table. Adam sprang from his seat,
took the dishes from her, and jerked his head toward the table, indicating that
she should sit back down. “Thank you,
Adam. Anyway, I just wish I could see
them tomorrow, too. But I don’t suppose
I should be climbing up and down that ladder in my condition.” She sank back into her chair and gave out a
little laugh.
“When they’re big enough, Ma, we’ll
bring ‘em down so you can see ‘em,” Hoss said. “How long do you think that’ll be, Adam?”
Adam returned from setting the
dishes in the kitchen. He shrugged. “About a week, I guess. Once their eyes are open, Gretel probably
won’t mind so much if we pick them up. But like I said, we go poking at them right now, and she’s gonna get real upset.”
“And when Gretel gets upset, people
get hurt,” Hoss added.
“That they do.”
The Cartwright boys had learned that
lesson the hard way. Last summer, Adam
had accidentally startled Gretel while she was sleeping in the woodpile behind
the house. Hoss rushed in to rescue his
brother from the terrified cat, and both boys had emerged from the skirmish
scratched to pieces. They were much more
careful around the woodpile after that.
After supper, Hoss helped Marie wash
the dishes, and Adam enjoyed a few quiet moments in the living room. The air had grown cold again after the sun
had set, so he built a small fire in the fireplace and stretched out on the
hearthrug with a sketchpad and a pencil. Adam liked to draw. He could draw
passable portraits of people and animals, but it was buildings that really
caught his fancy. With a new baby on the
way, the Cartwrights wouldn’t be able to stay in the small two-bedroom ranch
house forever, and Adam spent hours sketching ideas for a bigger house. He was so caught up in his most recent design
that he barely noticed when Marie and Hoss joined him in the living room. Hoss paged through Grimms’ Fairy Tales – he couldn’t read much
yet, but he loved looking at the illustrations – while Marie picked up her
knitting. Adam couldn’t understand why
Marie was knitting so much. The baby was
due in July – not really the time of year that one needed wool socks. But it seemed to make her happy, so he said
nothing.
A half hour passed, and Adam was
about to tell Hoss to wash up for bed when Marie let out a little “Ooh!” and
clapped her hand to her belly.
“Boys! Come here, quick! The baby’s kicking!”
Hoss scuttled across the sofa and
slipped his hand under Marie’s. His face
split into a huge grin and he let out a squeal.
“Adam! Adam, the baby kicked me! You gotta come
here!”
Adam had looked up but hadn’t budged
from the hearthrug. He was pretty sure
he’d die of embarrassment if he put his hand on Marie’s stomach. Besides, he’d felt Hoss kick plenty of times
through Inger’s belly. And he didn’t
like thinking about Inger. It made him
feel like there was a belt tightening around his chest and squeezing all the
air out. “I’m all right,” he told
Hoss. “You enjoy it.” He turned back to his sketch. Hoss shrugged and laid his head in Marie’s
lap, giggling madly as his unborn sibling kicked his cheek.
When the baby settled down a few
minutes later, Marie sent Hoss to the boys’ bedroom to get ready for bed. When the sound of Hoss banging around for a
nightshirt wafted down the hallway to the living room, Marie turned to Adam.
“The baby will probably move around
again soon, if you’d like to feel it,” she said.
“I’m all right, but thank you,
Ma’am.” He turned to his sketch once
more.
“Are you sure?”
Adam fought against the squeezing in
his chest. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“You know, sweetheart, you can-”
Adam forced out a yawn. “If you’ll excuse me, please, Ma’am, I’m awfully
tired. Think I’ll turn in early.”
Marie’s face fell, but she quickly
plastered on a smile. “All right. I’ll be in to say goodnight in a few
minutes.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Adam zipped down the hallway toward
his and Hoss’s bedroom, his sketchbook clutched in his hand.
“Whatcha doin’, Adam?” Hoss asked as his older brother burst into
the room.
“Goin’ to
bed. What else would I be doing?”
“At my bedtime? You feeling all right?”
“I’m feeling fine. Just tired. Get in bed, Hoss.”
The five-year-old obediently climbed
into the top bunk of the bunkbeds he and Adam shared. Adam changed into his nightshirt and washed
his face at the basin in one corner of the room. He tried to hurry so he could pretend to already
be asleep when Marie came in, but he wasn’t quite fast enough. Marie knocked on the door just as he crawled
under the covers. Hoss, of course,
called her right in. Marie smiled as she
entered the room and crossed to the bunkbeds. Hoss leaned over the top bunk to hug her.
Marie gave him her usual goodnight
wish in French: “Bonne nuit, mon chéri. Je t'aime.” She kissed
Hoss’s forehead.
“I love you, too, Ma!” Hoss
said. He nuzzled under his covers and
closed his eyes.
Marie bent down with some difficulty
and pulled the covers up around Adam’s shoulders. “Goodnight, my darling. I love you,” she repeated, again in French.
“Goodnight, Ma’am,” Adam replied.
Marie gave him a sad smile and
brushed a dark lock of hair off of his forehead. She hesitated for a moment, and Adam was
afraid she was going to kiss him, too, but she just patted his shoulder and
left the room. He rolled over and closed
his eyes, the sensation of Marie’s soft hand lingering on his brow.
******
Hoss couldn’t wait until after breakfast
the next morning to see the kittens, so as soon as the brothers were dressed,
Adam took him out to the barn. He knew
he should insist they complete their morning chores first, but Hoss’s
excitement was infectious.
“Don’t go charging over there,” Adam
instructed as he let Hoss climb the hayloft ladder ahead of him. “Wait for me.” The ladder groaned under their combined
weight as Adam followed Hoss into the loft. Some of the rungs were rickety, too, which Adam hadn’t noticed the
previous evening. He frowned. If the ladder were protesting him and Hoss
together, it couldn’t be any safer for Ben. Adam finished his ascent wondering if his carpentry skills were advanced
enough to build a new ladder without his father’s oversight.
Hoss clapped a hand over mouth to
muffle his shriek of delight as Adam pushed aside the hay in the corner to
reveal Gretel and her babies. The
kittens were nursing again, and Gretel blinked up at them with sleepy
eyes. Adam could have sworn she looked
smug.
“Oh, Adam, they’re so cute!” Hoss
whispered. “One, two, three, four, five,
just like you said!”
“I know how to count,” Adam replied
with a grin.
“What are we gonna name ‘em all?”
“I suppose that depends on whether
they’re boys or girls.”
“Well which are they?”
Praying that Gretel wouldn’t attack
him, Adam very slowly reached out one finger and lifted the tail of one of the
orange kittens. He stared, his head
cocked to one side. Wrinkling his brow,
he dropped the thin orange tail and raised the one attached to the calico. Stumped, he checked every kitten before
turning back to Hoss.
“I can’t tell,” he said.
Hoss giggled. “You don’t know the difference between boys
and girls?”
“I know the difference!” Adam
huffed. Ben had had that talk with him a
couple years earlier, and besides, they lived on a cattle ranch. The animals made the difference quite
plain. Ben hadn’t had much to tell Adam
that the boy hadn’t already seen for himself. “They’re just too small. We’ll
have to wait until they get a bit bigger.”
Hoss’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe we can at least name that one.” He pointed to the calico. “Ma said most calicos are girls.”
“All right. What do you want to name her?”
Hoss scrunched up his face in
thought so hard that Adam thought his head might pop. “Patches,” Hoss said at last. “‘Cause she looks like a little patchwork
quilt.”
Adam smiled. It wasn’t very inventive, but Hoss had a
point. “All right, then. Welcome to the family, Patches Cartwright.”
“Adam, do you think I can hold her?”
“I think we’re lucky Gretel let me
touch her. You better wait at least
another day or two. Besides, she’s
eating. How would you like it if some
giant picked you up in the middle of your breakfast?”
“Not very much,” Hoss admitted. “I do like breakfast.”
“Me, too. Let’s go get some.”
The brothers grinned at each other,
and Adam carefully pushed the hay back into place to conceal Gretel and her
babies so they’d feel safe. The boys
picked their way back to the ladder. Hoss was about to clamber down, but Adam held out an arm to stop him.
“Let me go first,” he said. “I’m not so sure about a couple of these
rungs.” Adam made his way slowly down
the ladder, jiggling each rung to test its soundness. A couple of them could stand to be replaced,
and one truly concerned him. It was
beginning to splinter. Usually the
Cartwrights looked for such signs of wear on their equipment each year when
winter broke, but the winter had been especially hard that year. Come spring, they’d been so busy repairing
walls and roofs that the hayloft ladder must have gotten overlooked. “Watch out for this rung here near the
middle,” he called up to Hoss. “I don’t
trust it. Skip it if you can.” Hoss nodded and made his way down slowly,
stretching one leg as far as he could to skip over the damaged rung. Once he was safely on the ground, he and Adam
raced each other back to the house, which was already emitting the delicious
scents of bacon and eggs.
“Hey, Adam?” Hoss puffed as they
reached the porch. Adam could easily
outrun his little brother, but he’d made sure their race had ended in a
tie.
“Hey what?”
“D’ya think we’re gonna get a baby brother or a baby
sister?”
“I don’t know. I suppose the odds are even.”
“What’re you hopin’
for?”
Adam cocked his head and studied
Hoss’s eager face. “Can’t say I’ve
thought about it.”
“I want a little sister,” Hoss said
thoughtfully. “Already got you, so a
sister would even things out.”
“That’s a good point. But I guess we’ll get what we get, won’t we?”
“Oh, it’ll be a girl. Ma says I’m so cute I can get just about
whatever I want.”
Adam laughed. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get that breakfast.”
Hoss slipped his plump hand in
Adam’s as the brothers headed inside.
******
The days passed quietly on the
Ponderosa while Ben was away. The half
dozen hired hands were out on the range rounding up and branding cattle, so it
was just Marie, Adam, and Hoss at the house. Adam tended the horses and cow while Hoss took care of the
chickens. Adam was sorely tempted to
saddle up his father’s second horse and go for a long ride, but he knew better
than to venture out on the range alone and unarmed. While Ben would forgive him for borrowing the
horse, he’d tan Adam’s hide if he discovered the boy had taken one of his
rifles without permission. Adam knew Ben
kept the key to the rifle cabinet in his top desk drawer, but he was to access
the firearms only in a true emergency. He hoped he’d soon get a rifle of his own – maybe even for his birthday
next month – but until then, the best weapon he had was a slingshot. He could probably scare away a wolf or even a
mountain lion with it, but it would be no match for the Indians who were
growing increasingly hostile as more and more white settlers poured onto their
land. So instead of riding out and
exploring, Adam stayed home and designed plans for a new hayloft ladder. He knew that something as simple as a ladder
didn’t really need a formal design, but if this was going to be his first solo
foray into carpentry, he wanted to get it right.
About two weeks after Ben’s
departure, Adam’s plans were ready. There was some lumber in the barn leftover from their repair work
earlier that spring, and Ben always had a healthy supply of nails on hand. So one rainy afternoon, Adam headed out to
the barn to begin construction. It took
longer than he’d expected, probably because he measured everything four or five
times before he began cutting his pieces. It was two hours before he’d gotten all of his pieces cut, and Adam knew
he’d run out of daylight before he could complete his project – he still needed
to sand everything before he started assembling the ladder. But he was happy with pieces he’d
crafted. He didn’t have a lathe, so the
rungs would be flat instead of round, but he figured that would be easier to
keep a foothold on anyway. He was gazing
proudly down at his work when the barn door creaked open behind him.
“Ain’t done, Hoss,” he called without turning around. “This is gonna take
longer than I thought.”
“Hi, Adam,” Marie replied.
Adam jumped and whirled around. “Oh! Hello, Ma’am. I’m sorry. I assumed you were Hoss.”
Marie smiled. “A logical assumption. But I’ve been making cookies this afternoon,
so you can guess where your brother has been.”
Adam grinned, both at Marie’s
comment and at the plate of chocolate cookies she carried.
“These are for you,” she said,
holding the plate out to him. “You’ve
been working so hard out here, I thought you might like a snack.”
“Thank you very much, Ma’am!” Adam took the cookies from her and crammed one in his mouth. They were still warm, and Adam closed his
eyes as he savored the sweetness. He had
to admit that Marie made the best cookies he’d ever tasted. He thought she’d turn and leave, but when he
opened his eyes, she was still there smiling at him. Adam shifted uncomfortably. “Would you like one?” he said at last,
offering her the plate.
“Oh, no, thank you. I shouldn’t. I had several while I was baking them.” But the way she stared at the plate reminded Adam of Gretel right before
she pounced on an unsuspecting mouse. “On second thought, I suppose I could have one more. You know, for the baby.” She snatched a cookie from the plate.
Adam’s discomfort transformed
instantly into amusement, and he laughed. Just after the first of the year, whatever nausea the baby had been
causing Marie vanished and left a raging appetite in its wake. Marie was forever justifying her increased
eating habits by claiming it was “for the baby.” When Hoss had tried to make the same claim to
get a second helping of dessert one evening at dinner, Ben had had to explain
that wasn’t how it worked.
Adam polished off the rest of the
cookies as only a boy on the brink of puberty could and handed Marie the empty
plate. “Thank you again, Ma’am. Those were delicious.”
Marie accepted the plate with the
same sad smile she’d worn when she’d tucked Adam into bed a couple weeks
earlier. “Adam,” she said softly. “I know you’re reluctant to call me ‘Ma,’ and
I understand why…”
Adam’s chest tightened, and he
gnawed on his lower lip. He did not want
to talk about Inger. Especially not with
Marie.
“But maybe we could think of
something else,” Marie continued. “You
don’t have to consider me your mother, but we are family now. I just thought that something a bit less
formal than ‘Ma’am’ might be nice.”
Adam found himself unexpectedly
curious. “What did you have in mind?”
Marie’s green eyes lit up with a
glimmer of hope, but the way she searched for words told Adam she hadn’t
thought that far. She had probably
expected him to shut her out at the very suggestion. “Well, the French word for ‘mother’ is ‘mére,’” she said. “Maybe we could try that.”
Adam’s chest tightened again. “Maybe. I’ll think about it. But right
now I really need to get these pieces sanded.” He gestured to the wood scattered about the barn floor.
Marie’s face fell. “All right. We’ll be eating in about an hour.” She turned and headed out the barn door.
The tightness in Adam’s chest
suddenly leapt to his throat, making a hard knot. “Ma’am?” he called after her. Marie turned. “Maybe after supper, Hoss and I could bring those kittens down for you
to see.”
Marie smiled again. “I’d like that.” She closed the door softly behind her.
******
After supper, Adam helped Hoss and Marie
with the dishes so they could get out to the barn sooner, though Hoss was
bouncing so vigorously with excitement that he wasn’t much help. When all the dishes were washed, dried, and
put away, the trio set out for the barn. It had stopped raining, so even though the evening was growing cold,
they took their time strolling across the front yard. Adam and Hoss each carried a lantern, and
Hoss kept his free hand wrapped tightly around one of Marie’s. Adam smiled at the pair of them. With Hoss’s blond hair, he could have
actually been Marie’s son. Ben
Cartwright was hardly a small man, so that could explain Hoss’s size. Adam ran his free hand through his own black
locks and sighed.
“Something wrong, Adam?” Marie
asked.
“No, Ma’am. I’ll, uh, I’ll go pull out the milking stool
for you to sit on.” Adam dashed ahead
and ducked into the barn.
Once Marie was settled on the stool,
Adam and Hoss climbed up into the hayloft and collected the kittens. Adam winked at Hoss as he tucked three of the
kittens safely into his coat pockets. Hoss giggled and followed suit with the other two. Gretel didn’t protest, but she did follow
them to see where her babies were going.
“Careful of that bad rung, Hoss,”
Adam reminded his little brother as they made their way back down the ladder.
“Aye, Captain!” Hoss replied. Adam shook his head. Hoss loved echoing the nautical terms their
father still used from time to time.
Marie’s face shone as the boys
pulled kittens from their pockets.
“How precious!” she cooed. Gretel wound around Marie’s ankles, purring
proudly. The blond woman reached down to
pat her. “They’re beautiful babies,
Gretel,” she said. “Especially this
one.” She held up the little calico for
inspection.
“That’s Patches,” Hoss said. “We ain’t named the
others yet ‘cause Adam don’t know the difference between boys and girls.”
Adam’s face burned despite the cold
night air. “I know the difference!” he
insisted. “I just couldn’t tell before because
the kittens were so small!”
A ghost of a smile crossed Marie’s
face despite her biting down hard on her lower lip. “I expect we could probably tell now,” she
said. “Let’s see, shall we?” She and Adam started checking under
tails. When they’d finished their
inspection, they had counted three boys and two girls. The calico and one of the black kittens were
both girls, while the two orange and the second black were all boys.
“We gotta name them!” Hoss declared.
“Yes, we should,” Marie agreed. “But maybe we could think of names back
inside the house. It’s really getting
cold out here.”
“It is,” Adam agreed. The weather was unseasonably cold for
mid-April. The temperature on some
nights still fell to freezing, and tonight felt like it would be one of
those. “Come on, Hoss. Let’s put these
kittens back, and then you two can go inside and start thinking of names while
I milk Bessie.”
“I’ll lead her out and tie her for
you, shall I?” Marie said. “Since I
can’t climb that ladder.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Hoss and Adam returned the kittens
to their pockets and made their way back into the hayloft. As soon as they were settled in their corner,
Gretel plopped onto her side, and all five kittens started nursing.
“They sure are hungry little things, ain’t they?” Hoss observed.
“Reminds me of you,” Adam
replied. He laughed as Hoss stuck out
his tongue at him. “Let’s climb back
down. Get you back to the house where
it’s warm.”
“Just another minute, Adam. I wanna watch the
kittens some more.”
Adam smiled. “All right. Not too long, though. I don’t
want to have to explain to Pa when he gets home why you’re frozen solid.”
Hoss grinned back. “You won’t.”
Adam patted his little brother on
the shoulder and climbed down to the barn floor. Marie had already tied up Bessie, so Adam
pulled the stool up alongside the cow and started milking.
“Would you like some tea when you
come inside?” Marie asked. She laughed
as Adam wrinkled his nose. “I’m
sorry. I always forget you don’t like
tea. Maybe some hot chocolate instead? I have some chocolate left over from making
those cookies.”
Adam grinned up at her. “That would be-” A shriek from the hayloft interrupted
him. Hoss had started to climb down the
ladder but apparently had forgotten about the rotting rung in the middle. He set his foot down on it a bit too hard and
crashed right through, losing his balance and plummeting the remaining few feet
to the barn floor. The five-year-old
landed with a loud “Oof!” as the wind got knocked out
of his lungs.
Marie and Adam both screamed and
lurched toward the little boy. In his
haste, Adam kicked the milk bucket with his left foot, knocking it into one of
Bessie’s hind legs. Already startled by
all the hollering, the usually placid cow let out a frightened moo and kicked
backward. Marie, who had already taken
several running steps toward Hoss, caught the flying hoof squarely in the small
of her back. She let out a cry as she
pitched forward and landed hard on her pregnant belly on the wooden floor.
Adam stood frozen for a second, not
knowing whom to help first. Hoss aided
his decision by drawing in a ragged breath and spitting out a word that Ben
would have tanned his hide for using. Adam rushed to Marie and dropped to his knees next to her.
“Ma’am?” His voice trembled. “Ma’am, are you all right?” His heartbeat was so loud in his ears that he
could barely hear her reply.
“Yes,” Marie gasped, rising to all
fours and clutching her stomach. “I’m
all right, Adam.” She turned her face
toward him and gave him a tight smile. “Bessie just gave me a little surprise, that’s all. Is Hoss all right?”
Adam glanced over to where his brother
was frowning over a new hole in the elbow of his jacket.
“Yeah, he’s all right.”
“Thank God.” Adam helped her to a sitting position. She was still clutching her stomach, but she
was breathing more normally. “Let’s go
inside. I think we’ve all had enough
adventure for one evening.”
“I agree,” Adam said. “Hoss, help her inside. I’ll be in as soon as I get Bessie put away.”
Turning away from his torn jacket,
Hoss finally noticed Marie sitting on the barn floor.
“Ma!” he cried, scrambling over to
her. “Ma, what happened?” Tears spilled from his bright blue eyes.
“Bessie kicked her,” Adam
answered. “But she’s all right. Just help her inside, ok?”
Hoss nodded, and the two boys helped
Marie to her feet. She panted a few
times as she stood, but she seemed steady enough. Hoss took her by the hand and, grabbing one
of the lanterns, led her slowly out of the barn.
Adam stood and watched them leave,
but as soon as the barn door closed behind them, he sat heavily down on the
milking stool and started trembling all over. He was supposed to be taking care of Marie and Hoss, and in the space of
thirty seconds, both of them had nearly met with disaster. He reached up one hand and gave Bessie a
reassuring pat.
“You all right, too, girl?” he
asked. “I know you didn’t mean to do
it. Sorry I startled you.” He glanced down at the creamy liquid seeping
into the floorboards. “Guess I ruined
the milk. Oh well. Hoss won’t die without it between now and
tomorrow morning.”
Standing up, he untied the animal
and led her to her stall. Giving her one
last pat, he slipped out of the barn and headed for the house.
He’d made it only halfway across the
yard when a coatless Hoss tore out of the house, screaming his name.
“Adam! Adam! You gotta hurry! Somethin’s wrong
with Ma!”
The hair stood up on the back of
Adam’s neck, and he didn’t wait for Hoss to explain further. He sprinted toward the house and burst
through the door without bothering to knock the dirt from his boots first. Marie wasn’t in the living room, so Adam tore
down the hall to her and Ben’s bedroom. For the first time in his life, he barged in without knocking.
Marie was lying on her side on the
bed, facing the door. Her legs were
curled up, and she clutched her belly. Beads
of sweat glistened on her pale face, and her eyes were scrunched tightly
closed. Adam froze.
“Ma’am?” He licked his lips. “Are you all right?”
Marie’s eyes fluttered open, and she
gave Adam a wan smile. “Yes, sweetheart,
I’m all right. Just a little sore where
Bessie kicked me.” Her voice trembled.
“But you’re holding your stomach. Bessie kicked you in the back.” Sweat broke out along Adam’s hairline.
“Pain moves around sometimes. Like when you bump your elbow and your hand
tingles.”
Adam wanted desperately to believe
her, but just then, Marie cried out and clutched her stomach even more
tightly. Adam’s legs went rubbery, and
he gripped the nearby dresser for support.
“Adam? Adam is the baby comin?”
Hoss whimpered. The little boy had a
death grip on the back of Adam’s coat.
“No, of course not,” Adam replied
bracingly. Then, at a whisper, “Please,
not yet.” He knew enough about babies to
know that one didn’t have a hope of surviving at only six months.
“Adam, what’re we gonna do?”
Adam swallowed hard and stared as
his stepmother let out another wail. Hoss dashed over to her and gripped her hand until the contraction
eased.
“There, you see?” Marie panted. “I’m all right. The pain’s gone now.”
“Hoss, fetch her some water,” Adam
said. Hoss dropped Marie’s hand and
sprinted from the room. Adam’s eyes met
Marie’s and held her gaze. “You’re not
all right. Something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine, Adam, really. I just need to rest.”
Hoss returned with the water before
Adam could argue. Adam helped her into a
sitting position, and some of the color returned to her cheeks as she sipped
the water. Adam relaxed. Maybe she really was all right after
all. But ten minutes later, just when
Adam felt it safe to leave the room, Marie dropped the glass and hunched
forward, biting her lip so hard that a trickle of blood dribbled down her chin.
Adam’s jaw clenched. He knew what he had to do. “I’m riding for the doctor,” he said.
“Adam, no! It’s too far!” Hoss cried. “It’s almost six hours to Eagle Station!”
“I can do it in five if I ride
hard,” Adam said, his eyes never leaving Marie’s doubled-up figure. A familiar tightening gripped his chest.
“You ain’t allowed to ride all that way by yourself,” Hoss argued.
“Pa told me to take care of you two,
so that makes me allowed. I have to go,
Hoss. It’s what Pa would do.”
Hoss looked up at his older brother
with tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please don’t leave me,” he whimpered.
Adam put his hands on Hoss’s
shoulders and crouched down so they were eye-to-eye. “She needs a doctor, Hoss. Now you’re the man of the house while I’m
gone. You keep her in bed and keep her
quiet. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.” He stood, and Hoss flung his arms around his waist, buried his face in
Adam’s coat, and sobbed. Adam patted the
back of the boy’s blond head. “It’ll be
ok, Hoss. I’ll come back with the
doctor, and he’ll get your ma all fixed up.” Hoss nodded, and Adam pried his arms away. He turned to Marie, whose contraction was
easing. “Hoss is gonna take care of you, Ma’am. I’ll be back quick as I can.” He shot out of the room before Marie could
protest. He heard the bed squeak as she
rose, but then she gasped again. Another
squeak from the bed, and Adam assumed she had sat back down.
“Please lie still, Ma,” he heard
Hoss plead. “Adam’ll be back quick as lightnin’ with the doctor.”
On his way through the living room,
Adam paused next to his father’s desk. Taking a deep breath, he opened the top drawer and removed the key to the
gun cabinet. “It’s an emergency, Pa,” he
whispered as he unlocked the cabinet and took out a rifle. It was one of his father’s smaller rifles,
but he couldn’t reliably handle one of the big ones. Better to have a gun he could manage than one
that would blast him backward if he fired it. He loaded the weapon and grabbed a box of extra bullets. Then, buttoning his coat up all the way to
his chin, he snatched up his hat and dashed out of the house.
He decided well before he reached
the barn which horse he was going to take. Marie’s little bay mare was quicker, but his father’s burly chestnut
gelding had more stamina – a trait Adam needed in a horse tonight. With four white socks and a white blaze down
his nose, the gelding was a magnificent animal, and Adam hoped to own one like
him someday. Tonight, however, his
trembling fingers fumbled with the straps as he tacked up the horse –
especially attaching the rifle scabbard – and the gelding gave him a reassuring
little bump in the chest with his velvety nose.
“We gotta ride fast tonight, Apollo,” Adam whispered. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask a lot of
you.”
The horse snorted, and Adam led him
out of the barn. A Quarter Horse, Apollo
was seventeen hands high, and Adam had to heave himself up hard to swing into
the saddle. Not for the first time in
his life he hoped he’d grow at least as tall as his father someday. With one last glance at the house, he gave
the horse a swift kick and shot off into the night.
If not for the full moon that night,
Adam never would have known which way he was going. But the silvery orb cast a bright spectral
light on the landscape as Adam and Apollo charged southward down the trail. Despite the light, Adam started at every
shadow, every rustle of a tree branch as they bounded past. He’d never ridden this far – nearly thirty
miles – alone, and certainly never at night. His father was very strict about the boys staying close to the house
after dark. There were too many
dangerous animals who would be all too happy to make a meal out of a little
boy. Not to mention the local Indian
tribes who were known to carry off white children as recompense for warriors
whose lives were lost in skirmishes with the ever-increasing European
population in the region. Adam reached
forward and rested a hand on the butt of his rifle. He tried to calm himself with some deep
breaths, but the night air had turned icy, and each inhalation made his lungs
scream. He wished he had brought a
scarf. Or at least heavier gloves. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to unwrap
his half-frozen fingers from around the reins.
Even though they slowed to a jog
after half a mile or so, Adam knew that he had to rest Apollo eventually. After two hours’ hard riding, he reined the
animal to a stop next to a stream. The
powerful horse was hardly winded, and Adam patted his neck.
“Good boy,” he whispered as the
horse slurped up water from the stream. A branch snapped behind them, and Adam lunged for his rifle. He ripped it out of the scabbard and whirled
around, expecting to see a bear, or a mountain lion, or a fierce Paiute.
Instead, he spent the next ten
seconds being chastised by a fat raccoon before it waddled away and disappeared
into a clump of scrub brush. He sagged
against Apollo in relief.
“You might have told me it was just
a raccoon,” he said. He tried to laugh,
but the sound was shaky, way too close to weeping for Adam’s comfort, and he
clapped his jaw shut. Deciding they’d
rested long enough, Adam returned the rifle to its scabbard and climbed back
into the saddle.
The next three hours were worse than
the first two. The air had grown even
colder – it had to be below freezing now – and Adam cursed himself for not
dressing more warmly. His coat was
buttoned all the way up, but underneath, he was wearing only a cotton
shirt. With an hour left to go, he
started shivering. He soon felt himself
getting drowsy – he couldn’t last much longer without finding shelter. When the first tiny golden glow of Eagle
Station appeared on the horizon, Adam kicked Apollo back to a gallop and tore
into the little town at full speed.
He’d been to Eagle Station a half a dozen
times with Ben, and he knew the doctor, a young fellow fresh out of medical
school, lived in a cabin at the end of town. If you could call a trading post, a blacksmith’s shop, and a doctor’s
surgery a “town,” that is. Adam yanked
Apollo to a halt in front of the doctor’s squat little home and leapt from the
saddle. His frigid knees gave out, and
he fell hard to the ground. With
apologies to Apollo, Adam reached up and gripped the saddle’s girth to help him
haul himself to his feet. Too tired to protest,
the gelding stood still while the boy stood up, gave him a final pat on the
neck, and hobbled to the cabin door. He’d never ridden so far or so hard in one clip, and Adam felt lucky he
could even walk. He knew he wouldn’t be
able to sit down comfortably for several days – and he still had another thirty
miles to ride back home.
He flinched as he pounded his cold,
stiff knuckles on the door.
“Dr. Martin!” he hollered. “Dr. Martin, please, it’s an emergency!”
He hammered on the door for a full minute
before he heard footsteps on the other side. The door creaked open a couple inches, and a single brown eye peered out
at him as he stood on the porch, his teeth chattering. The eyebrow shot up, and the door flung open
all the way. Without a word, the doctor
grabbed the collar of Adam’s coat and yanked him inside.
“Man alive, son, it’s below freezing
out there!” Dr. Martin exclaimed as he wrenched at the buttons of Adam’s
coat.
“Sir, it’s not me!” Adam protested
as the doctor ripped his coat from his shoulders. A young woman, wrapped in a thick dressing
gown, rushed into the tiny living room. Her eyes went wide when she spotted the shivering boy.
“Mary, stoke the fire, please. Then start the kettle for some tea. This child’s half frozen.” Dr. Martin checked the tips of Adam’s fingers
and ears and then started rubbing his chest and back to get the blood flowing.
“Please, sir, it’s my
stepmother!” Adam’s voice shook as the
doctor’s ministrations nearly threw him off balance. “She’s injured! Please, sir, she’s… she’s…” He could barely bring himself to say the next
words. Thrilled as the Cartwrights were
about the upcoming baby, pregnancy wasn’t something one discussed in polite
company. “She’s in a family way,” he
finished, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
The doctor paused and held Adam at
arm’s length. “What happened?”
Adam related the story of Bessie
kicking Marie and Marie’s subsequent waves of pain. Dr. Martin was already gathering up his
medical bag by the time Adam finished.
“Where is she?”
“Our ranch, sir. The Ponderosa.”
“Ponderosa?” The doctor wrinkled his brow. “Ponderosa, Ponderosa…” His eyes popped in sudden recognition. “The Ponderosa! You must be, uh, um…” He snapped his fingers a few times. “Carter! You’re Carter’s boy!”
“Cartwright, sir.”
“Right, Cartwright! All right, young Cartwright, you sit here and
warm up while I get dressed.” He
gestured to his dressing gown and slippers before disappearing through a door
Adam presumed led to the bedroom.
Mrs. Martin had gotten the fire
roaring quickly, and Adam sat so close to it that he could feel his hair
curl. But he didn’t care. It was warm. Every joint in his body ached as the blood flow returned, and he felt
himself growing sleepy again. And no wonder. As he sat there in front of the fire, the
clock on the mantel struck the half-hour. Adam glanced up at it. One-thirty
a.m. He’d made it in almost exactly five
hours. His thoughts wandered homeward,
and he sent up a silent prayer that Hoss and Marie were doing all right. He didn’t want to think about what it would
do to poor little Hoss if Marie lost the baby right in front of him.
“Why’d you have to pick now to go to
San Francisco, Pa?” he whispered. A hard
lump rose in his throat, and he scrubbed at his face with both hands.
Light footsteps approached, and a
soft hand alit on his shoulder.
“I’ve brought you some tea,” Mary
Martin said gently.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Adam tried not to wrinkle his nose as he
accepted the kind young woman’s offer of his least-favorite beverage. He took a tentative sip and smiled as he
realized she’d loaded it with sugar. It
wasn’t enough to fully mask the bitterness, but it was tolerable. And hot. That first sip sent a tendril of warmth right down into his belly. He tried to smile, but his eyes were welling
up, and he had to wipe at them with the back of one hand.
“You poor thing, you must be
exhausted,” Mary said. “We don’t have a
guestroom, but I’ll bring you a pillow and some blankets. We keep this fire going, and you’ll be quite
comfortable out here.”
Adam looked up at her and gave his
head a little shake. “Thank you, ma’am,
but I have to get home. I promised my
little brother I’d be back as quick as I could. It would scare him half to death if Dr. Martin showed up without
me. Besides, he’ll get there faster with
me leading the way.”
Mary looked like she wanted to
protest, but Dr. Martin burst out of the bedroom just then, buckling a gun
around his hips.
“Paul, the young man says he’s going
back with you.”
Adam set his jaw and unblinkingly
met the physician’s gaze.
“I don’t care how cold it is, sir. I have to get home. I promised my family.”
Dr. Martin disappeared into the
bedroom again and reemerged carrying a heavy woolen shirt. He tossed it to Adam.
“Put this on at least.”
That stupid lump in his throat tried
yet again to make his eyes leak, and Adam chomped down on his lip as stuffed
his arms through the shirtsleeves. The
shirt was way too big for him, but it would certainly keep him a lot warmer
than he’d been on the way there. He
rolled the cuffs up until he could see his fingers again and then hurried back
into his coat, hat, and gloves. Mary
produced a scarf and wrapped it around Adam’s nose and mouth.
“Go to your family,” she said with a
smile. She rose and kissed her husband
goodbye. Promising not to wait up for
him, Mary waved as Dr. Martin and Adam stepped outside into the frigid night.
“I have to saddle up my horse,” Dr.
Martin said, beckoning Adam to a tiny, two-stall stable next to the cabin. He caught sight of Apollo and frowned. “And we’ve got to get you a fresh one. You’ll kill that poor animal riding him home
tonight.”
Adam scurried over to his father’s
gelding and unwrapped his reins from the hitching post. Leading the horse, he followed Dr. Martin to
the little stable. Though it was a matter
of minutes for Dr. Martin, an eternity passed in Adam’s world as he untacked
Apollo and put his saddle and bridle on a black-and-white paint gelding while
Dr. Martin saddled up his buckskin. At
long last, they were ready, and the pair set off at a jog for the Ponderosa.
Three hours in, they stopped at the stream
where Adam and Apollo had rested earlier. Adam glanced around, but there was no sign of the raccoon that had
startled him. There was, however, a
fresh set of mountain lion tracks, and Adam shivered at the thought of how
close that cat must have been to him.
“You all right, son?” Dr. Martin
asked.
“Fine, sir. Just anxious to get home.”
The doctor nodded and mounted back
up. Adam followed suit and led him once
more in the direction of the Ponderosa.
******
The first rays of dawn streaked
across the sky as Adam and Dr. Martin galloped into the Cartwrights’ front
yard. Adam slid from the saddle before
his paint had come to a complete stop. His knees tried to give out again, but he was prepared this time and grabbed
hold of the hitching post to steady himself. Shaking out each leg in turn, he bolted through the front door ahead of
Dr. Martin.
“Hoss?!” he shouted. “Ma’am?!”
“Adam?” Dressed in his nightshirt, Hoss toddled out
of Ben and Marie’s bedroom, rubbing his eyes with the back of one fat little
hand. “Adam! Adam, you didn’t get ate up!” He launched himself at his brother and threw
his arms around Adam’s waist. “We
thought a cougar done got you for sure.”
“No, not this time.” Adam prized his brother’s arms off him. He hated ripped the little boy off him like
that when Hoss was clearly so relieved to see him, but there was a more
pressing matter at hand. Waving at Dr.
Martin to follow him, Adam took off down the hall.
“Ma’am?!” he called as he darted
into Ben and Marie’s bedroom.
Marie was asleep, but her eyes
snapped open at the sound of Adam’s voice. “Mon dieu! Adam! Adam, thank God!” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she leapt
from the bed with as much alacrity as a six-months-pregnant woman could
muster. She wrapped her arms tightly
around him and buried her face in his hair. “I was so worried about you.” Her
voice was muffled in Adam’s dark locks.
Adam stood stiff as a stone
gargoyle, his arms straight down at his sides. Marie had often opened her arms to him but had never forced an embrace
on him like this. To his surprise, he
had the urge to put his arms around her, too. But that hard lump welled up in his throat again, and he gently shook
her off and took a step back.
“I brought the doctor, Ma’am.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to
regain his dignity.
Dr. Martin stepped forward, his
right hand extended. “Mrs. Cartwright,
Adam here told me about your accident. With
your consent, I think I should examine you.”
Marie’s jaw clenched, and she put
her hands on her hips in a stance that Ben lovingly referred to as her “Cajun
standoff.” Adam was terrified she was
going to send the doctor packing, but she glanced at him, and her eyes
softened.
“All right,” she relented. “Adam, go get ready for bed.”
Bed sounded heavenly, but he
couldn’t go just yet.
“I will, Ma’am. Soon as I take care of the horses.” As Ben liked to say, a good rancher always
saw to his horses before himself.
Marie shook her head. “You are your father’s son.” She smiled. “Just be quick.”
Adam was. The cold had kept the horses from sweating
too badly, so Adam was able to pat them down and blanket them both in a matter
of minutes. The doctor was still in with
Marie when he returned to the house, so he slipped into his and Hoss’s room to
change into his nightshirt. Hoss
attacked him with another bear hug, and this time, Adam let his brother hang
onto him for a while before that knot in his throat told him he’d better step
back. He pulled off his shirt and
trousers and dropped his nightshirt over his head. Hoss giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Adam
demanded.
“Your nightshirt’s too short.”
Adam glanced down. Hoss was right. His nightshirt ended a good six inches above
his ankles. Adam shrugged.
“Oh well. Pa will notice soon enough and get me a new
one. S’pose as
long as my trousers still fit, I’m all right.”
Hoss giggled again, and Adam was about
to drop onto his bed when he heard Marie’s door open. He and Hoss shared a brief wide-eyed glance
before tearing out of the room.
“Easy there, boys!” Dr. Martin said,
catching them before they knocked heads trying to get into Marie and Ben’s
bedroom at the same time. “It’s all
right. Your ma and the baby are just
fine.”
Hoss cheered and wriggled free of
Dr. Martin. He raced into the room and
hopped onto the bed next to Marie. He
rested his cheek on her stomach. “You
hear that, Baby?” he addressed her belly. “You’re ok!” He rolled onto his
back and giggled with delight.
Adam smiled at his little brother,
nodded to Marie, and led Dr. Martin to the living room.
“How is she, really?” Adam asked in a low voice when they were out of earshot of
the bedroom. He drew himself up to his
full height, which at not quite twelve years old, wasn’t very tall. “It’s all right. You can tell me. I’m in charge here while my father’s away.”
Dr. Martin’s eyes twinkled. “Adam, she’s fine. Her and the baby both. Really.”
“But that pain she was having…”
“Is normal for a woman in her
condition who suffers a blow like she did. It certainly can indicate a problem, and you did the right thing riding
for me, but in this instance, she’s fine. A few more months, and I see no reason why you won’t have a perfectly
healthy baby brother or sister.”
Adam swallowed hard. Maybe he should have Dr. Martin look at his
throat. That dang lump was really
becoming a problem. The young physician
reached out and squeezed his shoulder.
“I’ve told her to stay in bed for
the next week, just to be safe, but apart from a pretty ugly bruise on her back
where that cow kicked her, she’s ok. I
promise.”
Chomping down hard on his increasingly
sore lip, Adam nodded. He took a deep,
shuddering breath. “Thank you very much,
Dr. Martin. Oh, hold on.” He raced back to his room and retrieved the
doctor’s woolen shirt. “Thank you for
letting me borrow this. Made a world of
difference.”
The doctor smiled and accepted the
shirt. “I was planning to come up this
way to visit another rancher later this week. I’ll bring your horse back.”
Adam’s face fell. “Oh, the horses!” He glanced down at his truncated nightshirt. “Give me a minute, please, sir. I’ll get my britches back on and get your
horses ready for you. Maybe you should
take my stepmother’s. Yours are probably
pretty tired, and-”
“I can handle saddling a horse,” the
doctor interrupted. “And those two will
be fine for the way home. We won’t be
riding hard.”
“All right. My father should be back in a week or two. He’ll come down to Eagle Station and settle
your bill.”
“Very good. Get some sleep, son. You look pretty ragged. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been
riding through the cold for the last ten hours.”
Adam grinned and assured the doctor
he would rest. Thanking him one last
time, Adam showed Dr. Martin to the door. With the door latched behind the doctor, Adam took another shuddering
breath and headed down the hallway.
Ben and Marie’s door was ajar, and
Adam poked his head in. Hoss was snuggled
up in bed next to Marie, his eyes drooping. He must not have slept very well last night if he was more inclined to
go back to sleep than ask for his breakfast. Marie spotted Adam in the doorway and beckoned him in.
“I was just wonderin’
if you needed anything before I went to bed, Ma’am,” he said as he crossed the
room and stood next to the bed.
Marie beamed up at him. “No, thank you, sweetheart.” She paused, searching for her next
words. “You know, I-” She cut off abruptly and clapped a hand to
her stomach.
Adam’s guts did a somersault, and he
was about to race outside and holler for Dr. Martin to come back.
“The baby’s kicking!” Marie
exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Quick!” This time, she didn’t
give Adam a choice. She threw back the covers,
grabbed Adam’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, and pressed his hand to her
belly.
Adam’s face burned – even the tips
of his ears went red. He tried to pull
back, but Marie had a death grip on his wrist, and he didn’t want to hurt her
by ripping his hand away. He tried to
protest.
“Ma’am, I-”
Three quick thumps against the palm
of his hand stopped him dead. He glanced
up at Marie, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. She smiled at him and loosened her grip on his wrist. His chest heaved as that lump in his throat
tried to choke him again. Before he
could stem the flood, his face crumpled, and he burst into tears.
Adam stood there in his too-short
nightshirt, his hand still pressed to his stepmother’s belly, and cried – great
barking, bone-rattling sobs that he knew made him sound like a sick cow but he
could do nothing to stop.
“Oh, Adam!” Marie said, tears
welling up in her eyes, too. She sat up
and slipped an arm around his waist. She
gave a little tug to draw him to her. Adam tried to resist, but his rubbery legs refused, and he collapsed
onto the bed next to Marie. He buried
his face in her shoulder and continued to sob, nearly twelve years’ of
heartbreak, anger, and fear pouring out of him.
On Marie’s other side, Hoss’s blond
head snapped up, his eyes wide in alarm. He’d never seen his older brother fall to pieces before. “Ma! What’s
wrong with Adam? Is he sick?”
Marie smiled at Hoss as Adam
continued to soak the sleeve of her nightgown. “No, mon chéri, he’s
not sick. He’s exhausted. And sometimes when you’re this tired, there’s
nothing you can do but cry.” She turned
back to Adam and curved her arms around him. “And no wonder you’re tired,” she whispered to him as his bawling began
to slow. “You must have had a terrible
night. Oh, my sweet boy. Thank you for taking such good care of
me. You were so brave. Your father will be so proud of you.”
“Not brave,” Adam hiccupped into her
arm.
“What’s that?”
Adam lifted his head a fraction of
an inch. “I’m not brave,” he sniffled. “I’m not brave at all. I was so scared the whole way!” A fresh wave of sobs washed over him, and he
buried his face in Marie’s shoulder again.
Marie stroked his hair with one hand
as she used her other to pull the blankets up over them both. “Bravery isn’t the absence of fear, sweetheart. Bravery is doing what needs to be done no
matter how frightened you are. And you
were very brave tonight.” She leaned
down and kissed his temple. “Sleep now, mon chéri. You have earned it.” She softly hummed a French lullaby she often
sang to Hoss.
Unwittingly, Adam snuggled up
against Marie and closed his eyes. With
her arms still wrapped around him and her lips soft on his forehead, he let the
weariness of his sleepless night overtake him.
******
“Pa?”
Adam blinked awake. Daylight flooded the room and burned his
eyes. He snapped them shut again. “Pa?” he repeated. He tentatively cracked open one eye and
glanced around. He could have sworn he felt
his father’s presence, but Ben wasn’t there. He rolled over and caught a whiff of the pillow his head rested on. The faint scent of Ben’s aftershave wafted
up. That must have been what he’d
sensed. Adam sat up and rubbed his eyes
with one hand. He was surprised to find
himself in Ben and Marie’s bed. What was
he doing there? Slowly, the memories of
the previous night returned. He let out
a groan and pulled the blankets up over his face.
“Oh good, you’re awake!” Marie’s shining face popped around the
door. “Hoss and I have made lunch.”
Adam ripped the blankets from his
face. “Ma’am! You’re supposed to be resting!”
Marie smiled. “I have been, I promise. I only got up a half an hour ago. All we made were some sandwiches. Nice and easy.”
Adam’s stomach rumbled at the
mention of sandwiches, but there was another matter he had to address
first. He cast his eyes down and picked
at a loose thread on the quilt. “I’m sorry
I fell apart last night – well, this morning, I guess. Suppose I got a little over-tired. It won’t happen again.”
Marie crossed the room and gently
tilted his chin up so he had to look at her again. “Don’t ever apologize for having feelings,
Adam. You handled more last night than
any other eleven-year-old boy I’ve ever met could have done. So don’t apologize for being a little
overwhelmed by it all. There’s no shame
in that.” She kissed his forehead, and
Adam didn’t draw back – for the first time, he didn’t want to. “Now come have some sandwiches. You’ve got to be half-starved.” She smiled at him again, and Adam smiled
back. He threw back the covers and swung
his legs over the side of the bed.
“What time is it, anyway?” he asked
as he stuffed his feet into his slippers.
“Nearly two o’clock.”
“Man alive!” Adam patted his hair to try to flatten the
pieces that always stuck straight up in the morning.
“I know,” Marie said with a little
laugh. “It’s chilly outside, and you and
Hoss kept the bed so toasty warm that none of us wanted to wake up.”
Adam flushed at this mention of how
he’d fallen asleep cuddled up next to Marie, but, strangely, the shame was
wearing away. Besides, his stomach’s
angry growling reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. He followed Marie out to the table, which sat
in a little alcove off the living room.
Hoss was already seated at the table
and was wolfing down a roast-beef sandwich. His mouth was full, so he gave Adam a little wave in greeting. Adam waited until Marie was seated to take
his own seat, but as soon as his rear end hit the chair, he snatched up two
sandwiches and crammed half of one in his mouth at once. He polished off the pair in record time and
grabbed a third, and then a fourth, before he finally sat back and sighed
contentedly.
“You’re not about to outgrow all
your clothes, are you?” Marie asked, her eyes sparkling.
“He already outgrew his nightshirt!”
Hoss blurted. He pointed to Adam’s
half-exposed shins.
Adam gave Marie a sheepish grin and
shrugged his shoulders. “Just tryin’ to keep ahead of Hoss,” he said.
“Best of luck,” Marie replied with a
giggle as she rose to clear the plates. Adam leapt to his feet.
“I’ll get these, Ma’am. You go lie back down. Doctor Martin told me you’re supposed to stay
in bed for the next week.”
Marie groaned. “This is going to be a long week.”
“It’s ok, Ma.” Hoss patted her hand. “I’ll read you stories.”
“I could bring in a couple of those
kittens for a little while, too,” Adam added. “Don’t think Gretel would mind if I borrowed them for an hour.”
“Thank you, boys,” Marie said,
blinking back tears. “I’d like
that.” She kissed the tops of both their
heads and headed back to her bedroom.
Adam and Hoss cleaned up the dishes,
and then Adam got dressed and went out to the barn to do his chores. They were down to one horse, so it didn’t
take him long to clean out the stalls. Bessie hadn’t been milked that morning and was mooing in discomfort, so
Adam pulled up the stool and milking bucket.
“Guess you won’t have much for us
tonight,” he said when he’d finished. “But you should be back to normal tomorrow.”
Before heading back inside, Adam
inspected the old hayloft ladder. The
rung that Hoss had broken was snapped clean in half, and Adam marveled that his
little brother hadn’t been injured when he fell. “We all got lucky last night,” he mused. He glanced behind him at his unfinished
ladder. Jutting his chin high in the
air, he strode over and began assembling the pieces.
An hour and a half later, Adam
yanked the old ladder away from the loft and raised the new one in its
place. Giving it a good shake to test
its soundness, Adam began a slow ascent, jiggling each rung as he climbed. The ladder was solid and never wobbled. When he reached the loft, Adam puffed out his
chest and marched over to the corner where Gretel lay with her kittens. The cat didn’t protest as Adam pocketed
Patches and one of the orange kittens and took them with him back down the
ladder and over to the house.
Marie was delighted when Adam
delivered the kittens to her bedroom. She tried to get up to cook dinner, but Adam assured her that he could
handle it. He’d helped his father
prepare many a meal before Marie had come to the Ponderosa. Dinner was nothing fancy – fried pork with some
potatoes and johnnycake – but it was good. Marie even had seconds – “for the baby,” of course.
When Hoss and Adam had cleared away
supper and the boys had taken care of the evening chores, including returning
the two kittens to their mother, Adam sent Hoss to bed. Sleeping until one-thirty hadn’t really
compensated the little boy for barely sleeping the previous night, and he was
yawning well before his usual bedtime. He didn’t even protest when Adam told him to get washed up. Not quite ready for bed himself, Adam curled
up in his father’s armchair with a book. He was just getting lost in the story when Marie, who had been tucking
Hoss in, wandered out to the living room.
“Going to bed, Ma’am?” he asked.
“No, not yet.”
Adam frowned. “Doctor Martin said-”
“I know what Doctor Martin said, but
I think the goal is for me to be resting. And is there really any difference between me sitting in bed and
knitting and sitting on the settee and knitting?”
Adam had to admit there was
not. Marie smiled at him and settled
herself on the settee. Adam returned to
his book, the pleasant silence broken only by the soft clicking of Marie’s
knitting needles.
After several minutes, Marie put her
hand on her belly, and let out a light giggle. Adam smiled behind his book. Whenever Marie did that, it meant the baby was moving around.
“Hoss thinks we’re gettin’ a sister.”
Adam started at the sound of his
own voice. He hadn’t intended to speak.
Marie’s twinkling eyes shifted from
her belly to him. “Does he now?” she
asked slyly. “What do you think?”
Adam shrugged, surprised he didn’t
feel himself blushing. “Don’t know. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“I suppose not.” Marie gazed into the fire and laughed
lightly. “Can you imagine your father
with a baby girl? I don’t think the poor
man would have any idea what to do!”
Adam snorted. “Just imagine Pa going into the trading post
at Eagle Station and asking for pink ribbons!” He started laughing so hard that he nearly fell out of his chair. Marie joined in.
“I think he’d be all right until the
little girl became a young woman. The
first time a young man came to call, Ben would end up on trial for murder!”
Adam and Marie laughed at Ben’s
expense until tears streamed down their cheeks.
“Maybe we better just hope for
another boy,” Adam hiccupped as he clutched his aching sides.
“Perhaps,” Marie agreed. She grew suddenly thoughtful, and she rubbed
her belly with one hand. “You know,
Adam, I want this baby to grow up speaking French as well as English. But it’ll be hard since I’m the only one
around here who speaks French. I was
wondering if perhaps I could teach you some French so you could help me?”
Adam’s face lit up. Ben had taught him well and provided him with
crates of books, but his formal schooling had been haphazard. Teachers were few and far between in the
territory, and there was not yet a schoolhouse nearby. “Yes, Ma’am!” he replied eagerly.
Marie smiled and pointed to the
bookshelf. “Hand me that little blue
book on the bottom shelf, please.” Adam
dropped his own book on the seat of his chair as he popped up and plucked the
book from the shelf. He handed it to Marie, who patted the settee next to her. He dropped down next to her and scooted close
to her side so he could look at the book with her.
“I can teach you to read and write
French, too, if you like, but tonight we’ll just start with speaking some
simple phrases, all right?”
Adam nodded his head so vigorously
that his hair flopped into his eyes. He
shoved it back with one hand and peered into the little book.
“All right, then,” Marie said. “Let’s start with hello. Bonjour!”
“Bonjour!” Adam repeated. Marie gave him an approving nod, and the pair
spent the next forty-five minutes working through basic phrases.
Adam was in his element, picking up
new knowledge, and he didn’t even notice when he started leaning against Marie
or when she put her arm around his shoulders. But yesterday’s long night and this morning’s strange sleeping pattern
wore heavy on him. Despite his interest
in the little blue book, his eyes began to droop nearly an hour before his
usual bedtime. Marie gave him a little
shake.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,”
she said, closing the book. “Tomorrow
evening we can review all of this and learn a bit more.”
“Merci, madame,”
Adam replied with a grin. “I’d like
that.”
Marie smiled. “I would, too. Go get washed up. I’ll come in to say goodnight in a few
minutes.”
Adam scampered down the hallway and
washed his face and hands before pulling on the too-short nightshirt. He was just crawling under the covers when
Marie slipped into the room. She made a
production of tucking the blankets all around him, and Adam had to cover his
mouth to keep from laughing aloud and waking Hoss. Despite the cold night, a warmth spread
through him as Marie bent down and kissed his forehead.
“Bonne nuit, mon chéri. Je t'aime,” she
whispered.
The hard lump Adam had battled all
last night rose in his throat again, and he barely managed to croak out his
reply.
“Je t’aime,
Ma.”
Tears spilled from Marie’s eyes as
she kissed his forehead a second time and then slid quietly out of the
room.
The End