Molly #1

~BOOK 1~

by jfclover

I shifted my weight when her hand swept against my inner thigh.  I’d become increasingly aroused by her gentle and refined touch, but I remained patient, kept my eyes closed, and allowed her to explore at her own pace.  After all, Sally Ann was a pro and by far the most seductive and sensual woman in all of northern Nevada.

After loosening my buckle and nudging the belt away, she eased her hand inside my trousers as she’d done so many times before.  Making love was an erotic game of give and take, and Sally Ann played the game exceptionally well.  As she wrapped her fingers around me, I filled her small, thin hand, letting her handle me with her gift of self-assurance.  Though my eyes remained closed, I couldn’t help but smile as I reached for her and gently guided her head to replace those nimble fingers.

The subtle movement was not what she’d expected, and she moved accordingly.  In doing so, she bumped my ankle, causing me to overreact and grab both of her arms to ease the pain.  “I’m sorry,” I said.  “My ankle.”  But with my eyes wide open, I caught sight of the woman before me, but she wasn’t a woman at all.

The woman who I thought was sharing my bed was a young girl, a girl I’d frightened, and a girl who’d frightened me.  Her large, doe-like eyes filled with fear, as did my own.  “Who are you and what—” I found myself speechless, and I quickly scooted across the narrow bed until my back was against a log wall.

A small stream of moonlight filtered through the window above my head, and I was able to see a worn burlap curtain draping the bed from … from whatever might lie beyond.  My heart pounded like blasts of thunder, and I remained distanced from the unknown slip of a girl.  As my eyes adjusted, I took in my surroundings, but nothing seemed familiar, and while the frightened girl had scurried away quickly after I’d released her arms, she’d tried to make herself invisible in the corner of the room.  

Realizing I was still exposed, I pulled the threadbare blanket above my waist and quickly adjusted my pants, then buckled my belt.  But the fact remained, I was disoriented and inside someone else’s home.  My ankle was swollen twice its normal size, and a young girl had nearly … Oh, God.  What the hell just happened?

Through eerie shadows, the girl slowly sank to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest.  She covered her head with her hands as though I might climb off the bed and strike her.  This was a living nightmare, and, in a nervous fashion, I swept the back of my hand across my dry, chapped lips.

“Please, mister,” she cried in a small, anxious voice.  “I didn’t mean nothing wrong.  Please don‘t hurt me.”

One minute, the girl was on top of me, and now she cowered in fright.  What could I possibly say?  God knows I would never hit her or … but she’d been party to my sudden outburst and feared I’d come after her and strike her for … for what?

“You gotta believe me, Mister.  I didn’t mean nothing wrong, I just figgered since you was here you’d want me to do you.”

“Do you?”  I repeated her words in my mind as if expected to perform this type of sexual act with a stranger, a grown man she’d never met until today. 

I continued to stare, but the night and the events leading up to the moment I nearly dishonored us both were all coming into view.  A jug of whiskey and an invitation to spend the night were the reasons I’d found myself in such a predicament.  But the girl?  My God—how was she a part of this whole terrible scene?

“Molly!  Where the hell is you, gal?”  [

The girl stood but remained pressed into the corner of the room.  A gray gunnysack hung from her shoulders, and her thin, bone-white arms and legs protruded from the makeshift dress.  Her light blonde hair looked uncombed and hung in thin, scraggly ringlets framing her face.  She turned her head sharply when she’d heard the call, but her fear remained, and with her back and hands palmed against the rounded log wall, she inched herself past the curtain and out of sight.

I was finally able to breathe.  I closed my eyes, leaned my head back against the cabin wall, and tried to put the last few hours in some kind of order—my ankle, the mule-driven wagon, the old man’s cabin, the whiskey, and the girl.  The events of the past two days came flooding back into my mind …

“Joseph?”  Pa looked up from the papers on his desk as I made my way down the stairs. “I’m riding down to Carson this morning.  I need to deliver these contracts to William Watson,” he said after gathering his papers and rolling them lengthwise.

“Why don’t you let me take them?”

“Why?  You have business in Carson, too?”

“No, not anything I’m aware of, Pa.  I’m just trying to save you from taking that long, dusty ride down the mountain and back.  Besides, you’re just getting over that head cold and we wouldn’t want a relapse, would we?”

“Since you put it that way, Son, you’ve got a deal.”  Pa slapped the rolled bundle into the palm of my hand.  “I certainly have enough work to keep me busy around here.”

“Good,” I replied.  “Think I’ll take a clean shirt for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”  Pa’s heavy eyebrows arched as he questioned the need for an extra day off—shall we say vacation?

“You don’t expect me to turn around and head straight back after that long, dusty ride, do you, Pa?  I might just stick around and have a couple of beers, maybe play a few hands of poker, and if it ends up too late, I‘ll just stay the night.  Of course, I’ll start home bright and early tomorrow morning.  Be home by noon at the latest.”

Pa covered his mouth and cleared his throat as though he understood my meaning but wouldn’t dare condone my behavior.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh, come on, Pa.  I’m a grown man and—well, it’s no secret every man needs a night out, you know, on occasion.”

“I suppose every man does at one time or another.”

I started to laugh.  “Remember the first time Adam didn’t make it home for breakfast, and you tried using some lame excuse on Hoss and me to explain his absence?”

“Joseph—“

“Oh, I remember quite well, Pa.  I may have been young, but I was never naïve.  I recall explaining to Hoss everything you neglected to say.”

“Okay, that’s enough, Son.  Shouldn’t you be on your way?”

“I just need to grab that clean shirt.”

I delivered the contracts to Pa’s longtime friend and casual business partner, William Watson, then stayed the night in Carson City and accomplished exactly what I’d set out to do.  By morning’s light, I was heading back home.  It was mid-June and unseasonably warm, not to mention dry and dusty, just like I’d imagined.  Even the gentle breeze added no respite from the hot morning sun. 

“Whatcha say, Cooch?  We need a little break?” 

Stopping at the first shady spot I saw, I loosened the cinch and led Cochise down a gentle path to a crystal-clear stream.  Knowing I had time to kill, I stretched out in the cool grass and let my mind slip back to the hour of pleasure a woman like Sally Ann readily provided a willing participant like me.

After declining a dinner invitation with Watson and his wife, Martha, I headed straight to McMurphy’s Tavern, hoping my favorite painted lady would be working late into the night.  As soon as I walked into the smoke-filled saloon where smells of filth and whiskey rang true, I laid my coins on the counter and asked the chubby-cheeked barkeep for a beer.  As I leaned my back against the rounded edge of the bar and, after hooking the heel of my boot on the railing below, I scanned the room for Sally Ann.  It wasn’t hard to distinguish cowhands from miners, and there were even a couple of city slickers leaning over tables filled with cards and coins.  But those people didn’t interest me in the least; I only had eyes for my favorite girl.

When I finally spotted her through the blue-tinged haze of smoke, she seemed burdened with the job she was paid to do, but when she caught my eye, I gave her an easy smile and watched as she removed a miner’s hand from the fleshy part of her thigh.  I lifted my glass in salute; my eyes never left the striking blonde-haired woman whose creamy white breasts spilled over the top of her green satin dress.

She leaned in and whispered something in the miner’s ear before easing herself up from the chair pressed next to his.  As she slowly crossed the room in time to the beat of a tinny piano, she and I never lost eye contact.  Sally eased the mug from my hand, and before any words were spoken, she walked her fingers up my chest and then locked them together behind my neck.  And as she toyed with the length of my hair, she pressed her hips to mine and whispered in my ear.  “It’s been a long time.” 

Her bewitching candor seared my entire body with rushes of heat, leaving my cheeks flushed as I forced a rather shy smile.  “It’s been a very long time.”

Checking the position of the sun when I woke from my unscheduled nap, the grass was no longer shaded, and I would be late returning home.  I’d told Pa lunchtime and it was well past noon now.  It didn’t matter what age I was or that I had flecks of gray in my hair, my father would be anxious over my delayed arrival home.  I thought back to my evening at McMurphy’s with Sally Ann, and I smiled with satisfaction, delighting in the fact that my short vacation had been a much-needed bonus to the everyday grind on a ranch the size of the Ponderosa.  Pa, even with his list of never-ending chores, should certainly understand a man’s most inner needs.

I stood up, plopped my hat on my head, and with my energy restored, I tightened Cochise’s cinch and vaulted onto the saddle.  Thinking I needed to make up for lost time, I kicked Cooch into an urgent gallop, but after rounding the first difficult turn in the road, I hadn’t seen the rattler until it was too late for either of us.  Cooch shied, rearing in panic and before I could react, I was flying sideways towards a shallow embankment and colliding feet first into the trunk of a tree.

Pain shot up my right shin, and I grabbed hold of my leg, grimacing as I looked up to find Cochise taking off at a full run.  “Damn,” I cursed aloud at my obvious misfortune.  Cooch was halfway back home by now, and I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on my back. 

The blasted tree that had ended my downward slide would have to do as protection from the heat of the day.  I brushed away pinecones and pebbles, clearing a small space, and scooted back toward its trunk.  From my vantage point, I could still see the road at the top of the rise.  I could do nothing now except wait for Hoss or my father to set out looking for me when Cochise wandered riderless into the yard.  After removing my boot, I tried to move my injured foot.  “Damn,” I scowled a second time, squeezing my eyes shut so I could stomach the wrenching pain.

After sitting for hours, complaining only to myself and a few scattering lizards about my frustrating dilemma, it seemed as though my luck had finally changed.  I heard the sound of metal-rimmed wheels, slowly plodding along the road up above me.  I watched closely as the broken-down wagon rolled near, then realized it wasn’t a Ponderosa wagon as I‘d originally expected.  I also wasn’t expecting to see Cochise tied to the tailgate.

“Hey!”  I yelled, trying unsuccessfully to push myself up from the ground.  “Stop!  That’s my horse!”

The wagon kept rolling forward at a slow but steady pace, never stopping, never showing signs of slowing down.

“Hey!”  I called a second time and, when the driver ignored me completely, I did what I had to do.  Half hobbling, half crawling, I awkwardly ascended the hill, desperate to catch up with the moving wagon.  “Stop!”  I cried once again.  “Just stop a minute, will you!” 

“Cain’t stop,” the old man grumbled.  “Ain’t got time for no fool.”

I topped the hill, lunged forward, and, just before landing face-first on the road, I grabbed hold of the open tailgate and swung both legs onto the wagon.  After catching my breath, I turned my head and looked over my shoulder at the two people occupying the bench seat up front.  An old man, sporting faded overalls and a battered, straw hat, handled the single mule with both hands.  Sitting next to him was a young girl—a granddaughter maybe—with dirty-blonde hair and clothed in a gunnysack dress.

“If you’d stop, I could untie my horse and you could be on your way,” I said to the obstinate old fool who’d had the nerve to call me a fool in the first place. 

The man never looked back; he never took his eyes off the road, but he spoke with a Southern drawl.  “Don’t know if’n it’s your horse or not.”

Try as I might to keep my temper in check, I began explaining about the snake on the side of the road, but still, the old man never acknowledged me, never said a worthwhile word.  The mule kept a slow, steady pace on a road that was nothing more than an old trail leading into the backwoods of the Ponderosa.

When the young girl turned and looked back over her shoulder, the old man nudged her side until she, too, faced the road ahead.  I knew in my current condition I couldn’t mount Cochise unless the old man was generous enough to pull up on the mule and stop the wagon, but I’d yet to find anything generous about this man at all.  So, I leaned against the sideboard, figuring I’d just have to wait until we reached our final destination. 

Not much farther down the road, we pulled off onto an even smaller, rougher trail, leading towards an old abandoned cabin, which I recognized as one of our old, forgotten line shacks lying just inside the boundary line.  It was a small cabin we’d decided not to use anymore; in fact, Hoss and I had built a new, much sturdier shack about five miles closer to our southern pasture.

I scooted toward the edge of the tailgate when the old man finally pulled the mule to a stop.  I tried to step down and found myself cursing the pain and cursing myself even more for leaving my boot behind in my rush to catch up with the wagon.  Looking at the size of my puffed-up ankle, I reckoned only Hoss’ size sixteen would slip over my foot now.

The old man ambled to the back of the wagon and gazed down at my swollen foot.  “Snake bit?”  He turned his head to the side and spat a wad of tobacco before I could answer.

“No.”  I shook my head.  “As I mentioned before, there was a snake by the side of the road.  I took a fall from my horse and twisted my ankle when my foot hit a tree.”

“Should oughta watch out for them things, Boy.  Name’s Orville Krebs,” he grunted before spitting again.

“Joe, Joe Cartwright.”

I was grateful when the old man helped me down from the wagon, but what surprised me even more was when he led me toward the cabin.

“You ain’t going nowhere, least till morning, with a foot what looks like that.”

“If you’ll just help me onto my—”

“Just do as I say, Boy.”

“Yessir.”

The old man guided me through the foul-smelling cabin and straight toward a narrow bed situated against the back wall.  There was a thin, striped mattress, a moth-eaten blanket, and a piece of heavy burlap hanging from the ceiling, separating the sleeping space from the rest of the room.  With only one bed tucked into the small space, I determined a brief rest would have to do; there were no accommodations for overnight guests.

“I don’t mean to put you out.”

“Ain’t no bother.”

I lowered myself down on the mattress and lifted my swollen ankle, easing it up gently before leaning back against the cabin wall.  How I’d gotten myself mixed up with this lot was a story in itself, and I wished I’d remained firm with my earlier decision to be on my way.

Orville uncorked a jug he’d picked up from a nearby table.  “Drink whatcha need.  There’s plenty.”  He handed me the heavy, clay container.  “Make that ankle a yours feel a bit better.  I’ll put up your horse,” he said with the same deadpan voice he used every time he opened his mouth.

I cradled the jug on my lap and stared after the old man as he walked out the cabin door.  My ankle throbbed unmercifully, and what I would have preferred was a simple glass of water rather than a hearty snort, but since I was a guest of Mr. Krebs, I tilted the jug up and took a lengthy gulp of whiskey.  The initial swallow made my eyes tear and my chest burn, but when I tilted the jug a second time, the fire-laden brew began to dull my senses and numb the pain.

What I hadn’t realized at the time was that Orville Krebs’ main source of income was his home-brewed whiskey.  Future conversations led straight to how he’d learned the art of distilling whiskey from his pa, who’d learned from his pa in the back hills of Tennessee long before the war.  When the War Between the States finally ended, there was no money to be made selling moonshine.  His wife had died years before, and his only daughter had left home to marry some Yank.  So, with nothing to keep him in Tennessee, he’d headed west, doing odd jobs along the way until he found this abandoned cabin and made it his permanent home. 

Morning sunlight and a hint of fresh air streamed through the open front door.  I scrubbed my hands over my face and tousled my hair into an orderly fashion, then realized I must have fallen back asleep after my encounter with the young girl.  Still somewhat confused due to too many pulls from the jug, I wondered if I’d only dreamed about her.  Whiskey will do that sometimes, but it all seemed so real.

The bedroom curtain had been pulled open, and I gathered it was a cue for me to leave and not bother coming back anytime soon.  So, after scanning the entire cabin, I wondered where the old man and the girl had slept since I had used their only bed.

I turned back the blanket and swung my legs over the side of the thin mattress.  But when my foot accidentally hit the floor, I gritted my teeth as the sudden rush of pain nearly made me sick to my stomach.  I eased off my sock and ran my fingers across the classic black and blue marks of a sprain that looked and felt much worse this morning than it had last night.  When I caught sight of a long, smooth stick lying across the foot of the bed, I assumed the old man had left it for me to use.  I picked up the makeshift cane and let my weight center on my good foot, but tears nearly exploded from my eyes as I hobbled across the room and braced myself against the open doorway.  Outside the cabin, sitting on a log bench, was Orville, sunning himself like a lazy old dog.

“That away,” he said, pointing behind the shack.

“Thanks.”

I made my way to the outhouse, grateful I didn’t have to squat behind a bush with a young girl or an old man lurking somewhere close by.  On second thought, there was no way I could have squatted for any reason this morning.  Walking was a test in itself and I planned to do as little as possible.

When I returned, exhausted from my painful excursion, I stopped next to the old man, and without a word, Orville stood up and walked back inside.  It was still early in the day, and already, the morning temperature confirmed that by afternoon, the day’s heat would be nearly unbearable.  I knew my pa and my brother were probably already out looking for me, and I needed to get back to the main road if I had any chance of being found.  The old man returned with a bowl of something I couldn’t quite discern.

“Fatback‘n greens,” he said, handing me the unappetizing leaves.

“Thanks.  Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Krebs, I appreciate all you’ve done, but I need to be on my way.”  I stared into the bowl, knowing even one bite after the amount of whiskey I’d consumed last night would prove a big mistake.

“Best eat first.”

I smiled and nodded my head.  “I’d like to say goodbye to the girl.  Molly?  Is that her name?” 

The old man frowned and answered gruffly, “My granddaughter.”

“Oh, yeah.  I kinda figured—”

“Girl’s busy.  Got chores need doing.  Don‘t got time for no sitting ‘round, visiting with strangers while chores is waiting.”

Orville stood and walked around to the back of the cabin, leaving me standing outside the front door.  The old man hadn’t said anything else about the girl, so maybe he was unaware of what his granddaughter had attempted with a passing stranger.

I scanned the area in front of the cabin, looking for any sign of Molly.  Maybe I’d been mistaken about her age.  Maybe I’d been mistaken about everything I thought had happened during the night.  Could I have been dreaming of Sally Ann and  … no—it was real.  The girl’s advances were real.

I maneuvered myself onto the bench Orville had vacated, closed my eyes, and leaned my head back against the outside wall.  The sun warmed my face as I fought images of the girl’s unbelievable skill at handling a man, and when I heard the old man rounding the corner with Cochise, saddled and ready to go, I set the bowl on the bench and nodded.

“Time you’s on your way.”

“Thanks for everything, Mr. Krebs.” 

I tipped the brim of my hat to my host, then hopped up on the long bench and mounted Cochise.  But as I started away, I turned back for one last look and noticed the girl leaning against the side of the shack out of her grandfather’s sight.  She stood still; her thin, white legs were crossed, and her fingers pinched lightly at her bottom lip.  She stared back.  I nearly turned Cooch around, but something deep inside told me I best keep moving forward.  Instead of waving or acknowledging the slip of a girl who looked so alone, I kept my hands on the reins and rode out of the yard.

After reaching the main road, I thought back over the last twenty-four hours and the fact I was only offered fatback and greens and a jug of rotgut.  Did the old man even know how to snare a rabbit or shoot a squirrel?  What did these poor people survive on?  Though it was none of my business, I couldn’t get either of them out of my mind.  But what affected me most was the young girl’s actions during the night.  Where would a little girl get such ideas?  Where did she learn such things?  Why was she living with her grandfather, and what exactly was going on inside that cabin?  I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the two riders approaching until they appeared directly in front of me. 

“Well?”

My eyes shot up when I heard the deep, irritated voice of my father.  “Oh, hi, Pa, Hoss,” I said, forcing a smile.

My father wasn’t happy.  “Oh, hi, Pa,” he mimicked.  “You’re sure taking your sweet time getting back, Joseph.”

And when I glanced at Hoss, his expression wasn’t much different, although when his face scrunched up and his eyes narrowed, I knew he had something on his mind.  “Um, I know this may sound like a silly question, Joseph, but where in tarnation is your boot?” 

I looked down and winced as I slid my foot from the stirrup.  “It’s a long story, brother.  I’ll explain everything once we get home.”

Pa turned Buck, and Hoss and I followed closely behind.  Once my foot was free of the stirrup, there was no chance of sliding it back inside.  

“—and that’s all there is to tell, Pa.”

“That’s quite a story, Son.”

But my father’s not one to leave any of his boys to their own devices and moments later, Pa stood from his chair to judge the swelling a second time.  As he adjusted the pillow under my foot, I grabbed hold of my leg and fought hard not to grimace in front of my father.  If he’d just leave well enough alone …

“Want me to fetch the doc?”  Hoss asked in a concerned voice.

“I guess you better.  I can’t tell if he’s broken something this time or not.”  Pa watched me as I tried to tweak my position on the settee and stepped forward to help.

“I got it—I got it,” I said, not wanting help from anyone.

“All right,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.  “I won’t touch.”

“I’m fine, Pa.  I don’t need the doc.  It’ll mend itself.”

“Go on, Hoss.”  Pa shook his head at me.  “It won’t hurt to have a second opinion, will it?”

It wasn’t worth the fight.  “Whatever you say.”

As soon as Hoss was out the door, Pa’s tone lightened.  He perched himself on the table and kept his hands buried in his lap.  My ankle was safe for now.

“You hungry?”

“Starved.” 

“I’ll fix you a sandwich, and you’ll at least have something in your stomach before your brother gets back with Paul.”

“Thanks, Pa.”

I’d only revealed the conditions of the rundown shack and the lack of decent food to Pa and Hoss.  I’d said nothing about the girl and her nighttime intentions.  I buried it in the back of my mind just like Pa had buried his hands in his lap when he questioned my delayed arrival home.  I would have to return.  There were too many unanswered questions, and I had to try to understand their situation even if I was intruding on private lives.  Something wasn’t right.

Hoss helped me upstairs while Pa walked Paul Martin out to his buggy.  The doctor had agreed with me.  This time, it was indeed a sprain, not a break, but Paul gave me strict instructions to stay in bed.  He would bring out a pair of crutches in a few days so I could get around, but until then, I was to stay put. 

“Guess I’m stuck doing your chores again, Joseph.”  Hoss rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for a response, but when the smart reply didn’t come, my brother pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.  “Something bothering you?”

“Huh?  Oh, sorry, Hoss.  Just thinking about the people I stayed with.”

“They kind of got to you, didn’t they?”

“They sure did, brother.  You know that little girl, she—”

Hoss looked puzzled.  “She what?”

“Oh, nothing, she just seemed so lonely, stuck out there with no one but her grandfather around, that’s all.  No schooling, no friends … it was sad to see her standing there all alone.”

“Guess they chose that kind of life.”

“No.  Not the girl,” I said, but I needed to think things through.  “I’m tired, Hoss.  Mind if I rest a while?”

“Nope, I don’t mind none.  Be back when supper’s ready.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

Without disturbing my ankle, I rolled to my side and pressed my face against the soft, linen pillowcase.  I thought of the filthy mattress and musty old rag of a blanket I’d used the night before, but Molly consumed my thoughts more than the ratty living conditions, and there was no way I could rest until I found out more about her situation.

I ran the whole scenario through my mind.  The touching, the cowering—afraid she’d be punished … for what?  Not performing?  Had Krebs sent her to my bed?  God, I couldn’t let it go.  The girl knew way too much about a man.  I was a stranger, and I wasn’t the first man she’d … my thoughts pulled me in deeper than I wanted to go.  Was this commonplace?  Had she done this type of thing before?

Yes.  She had.  I knew she had.  My mind threatened to explode.  How many men had she been with?  How could I be certain, and how could I help the girl escape that kind of life?  I had to go back.  I had to know the truth.  As soon as this darn ankle …

“But Pa, I have to go.  I’ve been up and around for days.  My chores are caught up, and I’ll only be gone a couple of days.  I figure I can hunt for deer on the way and—”

“Joseph!”  Pa interrupted, “I’m not concerned about chores.  I’m more concerned about you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.  Have you considered the old man’s pride?  He may not take kindly to you stepping in and throwing food in his face.”

I stared straight into Pa‘s eyes.  I’d explained everything in detail down to the moth-eaten blanket I’d been forced to use.  I planned to win this battle no matter what.  And even though I still hadn’t mentioned anything about Molly and her premature education regarding the male anatomy, I had to see for myself if her living conditions were as they should be.  I‘d left the line shack with an uneasy feeling, and returning seemed my only option.

“Oh, come on, Pa.  If you’d seen the two of them, you’d understand.  They have nothing.  Nothing!”  I said, my voice cracking with emphasis.  “I’ll kill a deer on the way there.  I’ll tell the old man I live too far away to carry the animal home, see if he’ll accept my offering, and take the meat off my hands.  At least they’ll have something decent to eat for the next few months.  Then, I’ll turn right around and ride home.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Pa dug his hands deep into his pants pockets before he turned and walked away.  Maybe I was being hardheaded, but I had to stand my ground.  My father stopped and looked back over his shoulder, shaking his head. 

“I don’t think it’s wise, Joseph, but if you must.”

“I knew you’d understand, Pa.”  With a huge grin, I reached for my father’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.  “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.  Wish me luck.  The sooner I find a big, fat buck, the sooner I’ll be home.”

I was up and out the door before sunrise, and to my good fortune, I’d tracked down and killed a decent-size buck not long after leaving the house.  I’d carefully gutted and tied the sturdy animal across Cochise’s rump.  Then, riding straight for the line shack on the southernmost rim of the Ponderosa, I arrived early enough that there was still plenty of daylight for the return trip.  When I called out to the house, there was nothing but silence in return.  I tied Cochise in the shade and, after sliding the deer to the ground, I made my way up to the cabin.

After removing my hat and after running my hand through my hair, I knocked on the wooden front door.  I waited patiently, scanning the yard behind me before knocking a second time.  But as tiny hairs prickled the nape of my neck, I was very aware of the quiet.  Nothing stirred.  No mule in the broken-down corral, no kindling stacked by the door or smoke coming from the stone chimney, only the barn door swinging loosely on rusted hinges.

When I heard a noise coming from somewhere in the yard, I turned and gave a glance, and still, there was no one in sight.  I lifted the latch, and the rusted-out hinges squealed unforgivingly as I opened the only door.  Maybe Pa was right.  Maybe my coming here had been a mistake after all.  Pushing the door open wider to let in the morning light, I looked from corner to corner and saw no one.

“Hello?  Orville?  Molly?  It’s Joe, Joe Cartwright.”

When I stepped farther inside the cabin, I nearly keeled over from fright when a tiny, gray creature skittered across the plank floor.  It’s only a mouse, Joe.  Pull yourself together.

Overcome by a repulsive stench, I wanted to plug my nose as I walked closer to the curtained-off room.  Looking toward the small space, I noticed the burlap drape hanging partially open.  Orville.  The man was asleep on the bed, and when I bent over to shake his shoulder, I quickly drew my hand away. 

“Oh God,” I said, stepping back from the cold corpse.

I hurried back outside and called for Molly repeatedly.  Sucking in deep breaths of fresh air, and bracing myself on the support post in front of the cabin, I lifted my head and looked around the empty yard, and still not a whisper of sound.  I wanted to jump on Cochise and ride as fast as possible, but Orville had to be buried, and Molly—little Molly—had to be found.

Dread washed over me as I walked to the back of the cabin to the small lean-to where Orville had stabled Cochise.  There was a milk cow, which appeared content as though she’d been tended recently.  I looked around the small space for a shovel when I heard a shuffling sound.  As I crept closer, I saw a hint of Molly’s blonde hair as she tried to hide behind a large pile of straw.  I had frightened her once before, and I’d be damned if I’d frighten her again. 

“Molly?”  I whispered before moving any closer.  There she sat, scrunched up with her arms wrapped around her legs.  As I continued forward, it was obvious she was using her knobby knees to hide her face from the incoming stranger.  “It’s me, Molly, Joe Cartwright.  Do you remember me?  I stayed over one night a few weeks ago.” 

She bobbed her head slightly but never actually lifted it from her knees.

“Can I come a little closer so we can talk?” 

Without making eye contact, she nodded again.  Wanting to meet her face-to-face, I knelt on one knee in front of her.  “I’ve been inside the cabin.”

Her body shuddered as if she were well aware.  “He’s dead, ain’t he?”

I studied her for a minute, and when she finally lifted her head, I nodded.  “Yes, he’s dead.”

“Figgered that’s what happened.”

“Is there somewhere special you’d like him buried?”

“Up the hill, I reckon, by Ma and Pa.  They’s over by that old oak tree,” she said, pointing off to the side.

“All right then.  I’m going to get that taken care of if you tell me where I might find a shovel.”  She didn’t speak but pointed across the lean-to.  “You stay put until I’m finished, okay?”  I half-smiled and stood up to carry out the dreaded job of digging a grave for a man I’d come to despise.

After viewing the body a second time, I wished I’d never removed the blanket covering his lower half.  His filthy overalls were drawn to his knees, and an obvious stain remained when the old man had—

”Oh, God,” I cried into my hands after I covered my face and tried to block the image of Molly—  “No, not the girl.  No, God, no.”  How could I have left her behind?  Had she been pleading with me to take her away?  Had I missed all the signs?

As much as I fought to suppress any thoughts of what Molly had endured living with this evil man, now I had proof of what I’d assumed all along.  If Pa hadn’t taught me to respect the life of every human being, I would have left the old man on the bed and set fire to the place.  To hell with burying scum like Orville Krebs.

“It’s finished,” I said after walking back toward the cabin and seeing Molly standing outside the door.  “I’ll say a few words over him if you’d like.”

“No need,” she said.  “He weren’t nothin’ special.”

For the first time since my return, I took a good look at the girl standing before me.  Dressed in burlap with a length of rawhide tied at her waist, I guessed her to be around thirteen or fourteen years old.  She looked up at me, and I held her gaze until she turned to walk inside.

“Molly?  Can we talk for a minute?” 

“Why?”

“Outside,” I said.  “The air’s a little better out here.”

The cabin reeked of the old man, and I should burn the mattress in case he died of some disease rather than what I suspected, but Molly was more of a concern to me right now.  The bed and any of his belongings could wait for a later time.

Molly had no qualms about sitting beside me on the long bench outside the cabin door.  She was comfortable around men, which seemed odd for a girl who’d been isolated here in the woods for such a long time.  I had questions, but where would I start without scaring her away?

“How old are you, Molly?”

“I’s around fifteen, I think.”  I hadn’t thought she looked that old, but if she’d been living on greens for a better part of her life, it could be the reason she’d remained so small in stature.  “I didn’t have no more birthdays after Ma and Pa died.  Orville says they’s a waste a time.”

I fought to hide any emotions that might surface over Molly’s answer.  Birthdays were such a joyous occasion in our home; it was hard to imagine not celebrating such a special time.  But birthdays were the least of my worries.  Somehow, I had to gain her trust.

“You’re too young to stay here on your own.”

“Why?  I been taking care a things ‘round here for long as I ‘member.  Where else would I go anyways?  This here‘s my home.”

“Well, first of all, you have nothing to eat.  You don’t have any decent clothes to wear.”

“I got Dilly?”

“Is that your milk cow?”

“Yeah.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back against the cabin wall.  “What about school?  The nearest one is more’n twenty miles from here.”

Molly hesitated before she spoke, but then she said what she’d been told by her grandfather.  “Orville says he didn’t have no schooling, and I didn’t need none neither.  He said it was God’s will when my ma and pa died of the fever, and since I’s spared, I‘s s‘posed to stay on and take care of him till he‘s dead, too.”

I watched her carefully when she took to biting nervously on her bottom lip.  I also noticed the same deadpan voice as Orville Krebs.  I needed to slow down and give the girl time to think things through completely.

“Guess I done God’s will.  He finally up and died.”

I nearly chuckled at her dry sense of humor.  “Do you have any other people, aunts, and uncles maybe?”

“None I knows of.”

“Would you consider coming home with me?  I don’t live very far, and I—” I saw her flinch, and I tried to think what to say.  “I’d like you to meet my family, just like I met your family.  Maybe we could be friends, Molly.”

Her eyes grew wide—was it fear?  What had I said to frighten her this time?

“There’s nothing to be scared of.  You’d have a room all to yourself, and there’d be food on the table anytime you felt hungry.”  I chuckled softly before I continued.  “That’s if my brother, Hoss, doesn’t eat it all first.  I know you’ll like my brother.  Everybody likes Hoss.  He’s just a big old teddy bear.”

Molly flew from the log bench and ran around the side of the cabin toward the lean-to.  I’d done it again.  I’d said the wrong thing, but what?  What had frightened her this time?

“Molly, stop—Molly?” 

When I caught up, I knelt in front of her like I’d done before, and I held both of her arms to keep her from running off again.  But when I felt tremors rush through her, I dropped my hands to my sides, realizing immediately my inappropriate choice of words and actions.

“You misunderstood me, Molly.  I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t wanna go nowheres.  I just wanna stay here and tend to Dilly.”

“It was my mistake, Molly.  I used the wrong words, and I’m sorry.”

“Mistake?”

“I’d like to take you away from here.  This is no place for a young girl to stay alone.  Now,” I said, hoping I could make myself clear.  “My father has a big house with many rooms.  You wouldn’t have to share a room with anyone else.  Understand?  You’d have your own room and no one will bother you or ask anything of you while you’re a guest in our home.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Her staring eyes caused me to wonder what was going through her young mind.  I didn’t want to pry.  I wanted things to be simple and direct, without asking too many questions or upsetting her more than I already had.  

“I’ll make you a promise right here and now.”

“A promise?”

“In my father’s house, you will always be safe.”  How could I explain without coming right out and stating the obvious?  “Safe from everyone, just like the night I stayed here.  I made sure you were safe.”

“I dunno …. ”

I closed my eyes briefly.  “Molly, I give you my word.  No one will bother you ever again.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“S’pose I ain’t got no other choice, do I?”

“You always have choices, but I think this would be a good choice for you to make.  You pack up what you want to take with you, and I’ll get my horse ready, all right?”

“Just like a man,” she mumbled.  “Always telling you what you gonna do even when you says you don’t wanna.”

I’d darn forgotten about the deer I’d killed earlier.  It seemed like a lifetime ago I’d tied the dead animal over Cochise’s rump and brought him for this family of two.  There was no easy way to get both the deer and Molly home, so I left the dead animal for scavengers.  It was my only choice.  While Molly gathered her belongings and, knowing how much she cared for Dilly, I chose to tether the milk cow to my saddle and take her along too.

“Dilly’s coming with us, Mr. Joe?”  Molly asked with delight when she walked out of the cabin.

“She’s yours, isn’t she?”

“I’m the one what tends her.”

“Well then, you can tend her at my house, too.”

We rode in silence.  I’d seen the gleam in her eye when I opted to bring the cow, maybe her only true possession since she’d brought nothing from inside the house.  Maybe I’d finally done something right.  She climbed up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.  I felt her head resting against my back, and within minutes, she was sound asleep.  I took it slow, but it wasn’t long before I felt Molly stirring and took it as an opportunity to head down to the stream that paralleled the main road. 

“Thought we’d get ourselves a cool drink.  Not too much farther now, but I could use a short break.” 

I swung my leg over Cooch’s neck and reached up to help Molly down.  Not wanting to touch her any more than was necessary, I let her follow me down to the creek.  She picked the largest rock and plopped herself down, then dangled her bare feet in the cold mountain stream.

“Can I ask you some questions, Molly?”

“Anything ya want, Mr. Joe.”

“First off, you can call me Joe instead of Mr. Joe.”

“Okay.”

“Second, can you tell me how long your grandfather’s been dead?”

“Three days seems ‘bout right.”

Surely, she had been back inside the house since then.  The next question was going to be more difficult since I believed I already knew the answer.  “Can you tell me how your grandfather died?”

“I’s doing him,” she said without the slightest inflection in her voice.  She never looked up, and she failed to see the look of horror on my face as she continued to swing her feet.

“I’m sorry, Molly.”

“I ain’t.  Most days I wished he was dead anyhow.”

“I meant I’m sorry he … or that you—” I seldom had trouble finding the right words to say, and I chose to rephrase.  “I’m not sorry he’s dead either, Molly.”

“It weren’t just him, you know.” 

I looked up, afraid of what she might say next. 

“Orville had other fellers what come to buy his whiskey.  He always said if I wanna keep a roof over my head and have somethin’ warm in my belly, it was my duty to be nice to them men what come by the house.  That’s why, when you was in there sleepin’, Orville sent me to do you.  He said you looked like you’s a rich man, seein’ how you had a fancy saddle and a fancy horse and all.  Well, I didn’t wanna make Orville mad; didn’t wanna make Orville mad.  He weren’t easy to be ‘round when he’s mad, even worse when he gets likkered up.”

Even though it was tough listening to Molly’s straightforward admission of doing the deed with several men, I needed to know everything that went on inside that cabin before I took her home, before I had to explain her early-acceptance-into-womanhood to Pa and Hoss.  Although it seemed that once the girl had started talking, she was eager to tell her story without any prodding whatsoever.

“Ol’ Orville, he’d git hisself all likkered up then he’d git madder’n a hornet if’n my chores weren’t done or if’n there weren’t nothin’ on the table to eat.  The more he drank, the madder he’d git.  He didn’t never go huntin’ like Papa used to, so I’d just boil us up some greens and sometimes them friends of his would trade him some fatback or squirrel meat fer a jug of whiskey.”

Molly picked a blade of grass and began splitting it into long strips before she continued. 

“Me and Ma and Papa were just fixin’ to move on, but ‘bout that time, Papa come down with the fever.  I seen Orville sometimes, lookin’ at Ma kinda funny like.  I was just little then, and I didn’t know nothin’ ‘bout growed-up ways.

“I ‘member the first time Papa left to go huntin’, and Orville took Ma back inside the cabin, and he says to me, “Git out and stay out.”  I heard Ma screamin’ and fightin’ her own Pa that day.  After supper, Papa went outside to smoke his pipe, and Orville made me come sit on his lap while Ma was cleanin’ up the supper dishes.  He run his hand up and down my bare leg and told me how purty I was.  Ma done snatched me right up from his lap and made me go outside with Papa.  Ol’ Orville never did that again, so I figgered he and Ma made up cuz I never heard no more fightin’ and screamin’ after that night.

“Weren’t long after Papa died when Ma got sick, too.  Orville wouldn’t let me tend her; he told me I belonged outside the house till the sickness passed.  But Ma never got no better, and so we buried her next to Papa up by that old tree on the hill.”

“I’m sorry, Molly.”  There, I’d said it again.  It seemed like the only words I ever said to the girl.  “So you‘ve been living here with your grandfather ever since?”

“Where else would I live?”

I smiled.  She sure wasn’t backward.  She had a brain and she knew how to use it.  It wasn’t any of my business to ask more questions, but in the long run, I had to know everything I was dealing with.  

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about your ma and pa?”

“What’s there to tell?  They’s dead.”

“You’re right.  It’s none of my business.  You ready to go?” 

“Sure wish it’d been Orville what died ‘stead of Ma and Pa.”  She picked another long blade of grass and began pulling it apart.  “The day after we buried Ma, Orville come back inside the cabin all tuckered and sweaty, and he told me to fetch his jug.  He sat there all day long drinking from that jug.  I thought he must be really sad ’bout Ma dying and all.  I never seen him that likkered up before.  I ‘member him mumbling something ‘bout my ma, but I couldn’t rightly figger what he’s sayin’.

“He told me to come and sit on his lap.  He’d never had me do that again since Ma got mad at him that night, but this time Ma weren’t there.  He pulled me again’ his chest.  I could smell his sour breath, and when he put his mouth on my neck, I could feel his beard tickling me.  I giggled, and I think I made him mad cuz he jumped right outta that chair, and I fell smack down on the floor on my bottom.  He went back to his bed, and I heared him moanin’ and grownin’, and I knew ‘xactly what he’s doin’ cuz I’d seen him jerkin’ on hisself lots a times before.

“He didn’t never make me sit on his lap again after that day, but I was used to hearin’ him make all them gruntin’ noises.  When I’s jiss little and Ma sent me down to wash in the creek, he’d follow me, saying he’s just makin’ sure I’s safe from lions and coyotes what prowled sometimes.  I thought maybe he’s havin’ a fit or something the way he’s a rubbing on his thang and moaning like some old, wounded bear.  That’s how I know’d what he’s doing ‘cause he’d always cry out in the end like he’d hurt hisself.

“When I got bigger, and my titties started showin’, he’d liken to come up ‘n rub on them, but not so hard like he did with his thang.  He’d stand over me, and I seen him smiling.  He’d tell me I’s coming along just fine.  Said I’s ripening nicely, and then he said, more’n he’s just a simple man with simple needs what gots to be filled.  Told me the preacher back home said a good woman’s what God intended for man.  He said he’d have to do me purty soon to fulfill them needs ‘cause there weren’t no other female persons in these mountains no more.  Said he’d had a girl what’s half Paiute ’round the place for a time, but like my ma, she’s dead now, too.”

Molly chuckled softly, but she didn’t look up.  “I ‘member the first time I got my monthly troubles.  I thought God was mad at me for somethin’ I done, and I was dying ‘cause I’d been reckless with my chores or cuz I’d back-talked Orville.  I took to my bed, and I waited to die.  Orville laughed at me.  He told me it was a natural thing.  He called it my monthly troubles.  Said it’s a woman thing, and I’d get used to it over time.  I thought he just didn’t wanna tell me I’s dying like my ma and papa, but Orville was right.  I ain’t dead.”  She looked up and smiled at me this time.  “Guess he was right about some things.”

Although I smiled back, I didn’t know what to say.  My mouth was dry, and I settled for running my tongue over my lips rather than move to get a drink from the stream.  Molly hadn’t finished her story just yet.

“For months after my troubles began, Orville didn’t do nothin’ but rub up against me, and then he’d go in back and rub hisself, thinking I couldn’t see or hear what he’s doin’.  That’s till wintertime ‘fore last.  It was too cold to go outside, and we’s both stuck in that ol’ cabin all day and all night.  One day, he’d been sippin’ at his jug all day long, and that always made me a little scared, ‘cause like I told you before, when he got all likkered up, he weren’t really hisself.  But I guess his spiritual needs was getting the best of him cause he’s looking hard at me that whole day.  When he set his jug down and stood up from his chair, he told me it was time.  Said he’d fought off them Godly urges as long as he could, and he just couldn’t be made to hold hisself off no longer. 

“Funny thing was,” she said, stopping to glance at me, “I didn’t know what it were time for.  I wasn’t scared of him till that night after he come walking toward me with a whole different look in his eyes.  He pulled off my leather string and slipped my dress up over my head.  Then, he stared at my titties with a kinda funny look.  I ‘member holding my hands ‘tween my legs … I’s kinda embarrassed of him seein’ me naked and all.

“But that’s when he pulled my hands away, and I ‘member stumbling some cuz he made me spread my legs wider so he could get his big ol’ hand in-between.  I didn’t much like what he’s doin’ so I swung back my hand and smacked him upside the head.  That weren’t the smartest thing to do.”  Molly scrunched up her face as though the long-ago event was taking place right in front of her eyes.  “Ol’ Orville, he reared back and slapped me ‘cross the face so hard, I fell back on the bed.  There was blood comin’ from my nose and mouth, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back up to my feet, and then he slapped me again. 

“I started to cry and he said there’d be no cryin’ and no back-talking or he’d have to learn me same as he learned my ma.  I still didn’t understand, but when he unfastened his coveralls, I saw his thang.  It was big and hard like a tree branch.  He crawled on top of me, and before I could figger what he’s plannin’, he shoved his thang inside—”

“That’s enough, Molly,” I said sharply.  “Don’t say anymore.”  I swallowed the lump in my throat and I squeezed my eyes tight, trying to erase the mental picture Molly had painted, but there would be no erasing the vision of that old man climbing on top of this child. 

“You see … after the first time he done me, Orville’s on top a me near every mornin’ and every night.”

“Molly,” I interrupted.  “Really, you don’t have to go on.”

“May as well finish tellin’, Joe.  You asked me, so you might as well hear all I gotta say cause I ain’t never gonna tell no one this story again.”

“Okay.”  What Molly said made sense, and I forced myself to listen. 

“There was other times, too, when I think Orville just liked lookin’ at me, ‘cause I’d growed up some, you know, titties and all.  That winter, he’d have me pull my dress up over my head so I was naked and shivering from the cold.  He made me play with my titties till they got pointy and hard, and, well, I s’pose you can gather the rest by now.”  She looked at me and grinned.  “Yep, he pulled on his thang and carried on till he’d cry out ‘cause he’d hurt hisself again.

“Orville started drinking all the time after the snows come that year.  I never knew what he’s gonna do next.  He told me I’s broke in, good ‘nough for any man who had coins to spare, and so he told them other fellers what come for whiskey that for two bits more they could take me back to the bed and do me.  Life weren’t so bad when Orville had all them extra coins jingling in his pocket.

“He’s always reminding me it’s my duty.  It’s God’s will cuz there weren’t no other females nowheres close by.  He never took too kindly to me sassing and said I’d better be ‘special nice to them men what was paying him two bits for services rendered. 

“I ‘member running outta the house once, trying to get away from Ugly Elbert.  Orville, he’s a sitting on that old log outside when he heard me coming and he stuck out his boot.  Well, I tripped and landed face down in the dirt.  Busted up my arm pretty good that time.   Him and Ugly said they know’d how to fix it, so Ugly held me up aging him, and Orville pulled on my arm.  I ‘member screaming bloody murder it hurt so bad.  Them two tied my arm up tight with sticks and pieces of rawhide and said I’d be good as new in no time.  When they’s finished tying, Orville told Ugly to git busy, and git his business finished, ‘cause he couldn‘t hold his own self off much longer.”

Molly leaned back on the rock and rested on her elbows.  It seemed she was thinking hard.  I wondered if her story was finished, if she’d said everything she wanted to get off her chest.  But when she started up again, her voice was still controlled, never wavering, just matter-of-fact.

“There’s times Orville was just plain mean, and I figgered God had nothing to do with what he’s thinking or doing.  Never figgered out what made him do them things, but he seemed pleased with hisself when he seen me hurting cause some of the things he done just weren’t right.  I ’member one time he took a big, long stick and—”

“Molly!  That’s enough for now.”  With a quick glance at the sky, I realized we’d spent much more of the afternoon talking than I’d anticipated when we’d stopped for a drink of water.  “It’s really getting late, and I think you and I need to be moving along.  We want to get home sometime today.”  Besides, I couldn’t stomach much more about her young life.

She’d told her story so casually, as if this was a common occurrence among all young girls her age.  Orville Krebs and all the other men in her life were as normal for her as day turning into night.  If this was the hand she’d been dealt, I was determined to make sure her life would be different from now on.  I’d find her a new home and a new family; a family who’d bring her up as a young girl should be, even if I was forced to raise her myself. 

Chapter 2

Molly’s face showed signs of fear as I lifted her down from Cochise in front of the expansive ranch house I called home.  “Now, don’t be frightened,” I said, keeping hold of her hand.  “I’ve been a guest at your house and now you’re a guest at mine, okay?”  Even though she nodded her head, I knew she was frightened.  I glanced back at the milk cow we’d dragged home behind us  “Molly?”  I said, kneeling again on one knee.  “Why don’t I show you the stall I have in mind for Dilly?” 

But when I looked up, my brother, Hoss, was just starting through the front door.  Molly’s grip tightened against my fingers, and she eased herself behind my back.  Hoss was a big man, maybe the largest man she’d ever seen, and with her detailed past surfacing only a few hours ago, I could only imagine her unwillingness to be introduced to anyone new and unfamiliar.

“Sweetheart,” I said.  “Everything’s okay; I don’t want you to worry.  It’s only my brother, and I promise you’re safe, okay?”

“He’s big.”

“Yes, he is, but he’s as gentle as … as Dilly.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “As Dilly?”

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right comparison.  Was your pa a gentle man?”

“Course he was.”

“Well, so is Hoss.  You just have to trust me on this, Molly.”

I was still balanced on one knee when she placed her hands on my shoulders and peered over my shoulder.  I watched her eyes grow big as she stared at my brother.

“Whatcha got here, Little Joe?”

I made eye contact with Molly once more before I stood up.  “You okay?”

She nodded her head.

“Hoss?  I want you to meet Molly.  I was a guest at her house a month ago, and now she’s going to be a guest at ours.”

“Nice meeting you, Miss Molly,” Hoss said, extending his hand.  “Welcome to the Ponderosa.”

“Nice meetin’ you, too, Mr. Hoss,” she said, as softly as a church mouse.  

~~

I’ve met his type before.  Men are men; they’s all the same.  They tip their hats and introduce their selves just before they loosen their belts or unfasten their coveralls.  Joe’s brother ain’t dirty, and he don’t smell.  He smells of soap, like Joe.  But it wouldn’t be long ‘fore the big man would come and demand what he was due.  His God-given needs would bring him straight to my bed.

~~

Hoss gazed at me skeptically, and I mouthed the word, later.  Molly still clung to me, gripping my hand even tighter than before.  “Hey, where’s Pa?”  I asked, as we walked toward the house.

“He had a meeting in town; something to do with that Watson deal.”

I’d need time alone to talk with Pa and Hoss, but first, Molly needed a bath and something clean to wear before sitting down at the table to eat.  With a house full of men, I could count on Hop Sing for the meal, but I wasn’t sure how I’d manage the bath or the clothing.  After hearing voices coming through the front door, Hop Sing rounded the corner from the kitchen, and his eyes fell immediately upon Molly. 

“What you got here, Little Joe?”  Molly backed up against me, and I rested my hands on her shoulders. 

“This is Molly, Hop Sing.  She’s come to visit us for a while.”

Hop Sing bowed slightly and smiled at the young lady in front of him.  “Bet Missy hungry.  Hop Sing fix sandwich.  You come sit.” 

Molly’s panicked-filled eyes found mine when Hop Sing took hold of her hand and pulled her away from me.  I winked and nodded my head, letting her know it was all right to go with our cook. 

“Hop Sing right back with food for Missy.” 

Hoss and I eyed each other and shrugged our shoulders.  As usual, Hop Sing had taken charge of the situation.  While Molly was in Hop Sing’s care, I took a minute to talk to Hoss.  I kept my voice to a whisper and quickly explained the situation. 

“The grandfather is dead.  What else could I do?  I couldn’t leave her there to fend for herself.”

Hoss shook his head.  “Poor little thing.  Looks like she ain’t had nothin’ to eat for some time.”

We both glanced at the plates of food Hop Sing began bringing to the table.  There was leftover fried chicken, a bowl of apples, and a big glass of cold milk for Molly, but she looked past Hop Sing and his constant chatter, and, with pleading eyes, I think she was asking permission.

“Go ahead, Sweetheart.  Eat up.  I’ll try to keep Hoss over here so he doesn’t steal all the food from the table.”

“Don’t go telling her that, Joseph.  She’ll get the wrong idea.”

“Hoss is right, Molly.  You eat whatever you want.  I guarantee Hoss won’t bother you or any of the food on the table.”

~~

This time maybe, but what if Joe weren’t around?  What happens when he leaves me alone with his brother or the father he keeps talking about?  And what about this little person with funny eyes?  Will I have to do him, too?

~~

After Molly picked up a piece of chicken, I turned my back to the dining room table and whispered to Hoss.  “I’ll explain more when Pa gets home, but she trusts me right now, and I want to keep it that way.  It may take some doing before she feels comfortable with you or Pa.  You understand?”  Hoss nodded, but I’m not sure if he really understood.  “She’s had a rough time since her Ma and Pa died.  Let’s just say her grandfather was no prize.”

“Weren’t her grandfather nice to her?  I mean … I see they didn’t have much in the way of clothes or food, but was he mean to her?”  Hoss had already seen the fear in her eyes, and my quick explanation confirmed his thoughts. 

“From what she’s told me today, the old man drank and ruled with an iron hand, but that’s all I can say for now.”

“Poor kid.  Whacha plan on doin’ with her, Joe?”

“I’m not sure.”  I glanced over my shoulder and saw how Molly kept her eyes glued to Hop Sing.  Did she fear him, too?  “Guess I need to find a home for her, but not for a while yet.  For now, I just want her to feel safe.”

“You mean you’re gonna keep this little gal here with us?”  Hoss looked rather delighted at the prospect.

“Well, she’s never seen the inside of a schoolhouse, so I was thinking maybe between the three of us we could at least teach her letters and numbers.  She may look backward, but I guarantee you, Hoss, she’s not.  This little girl’s as smart as a whip.” 

“I bet she’ll catch on faster’n you or I did, if what you say is true.”

Hoss was such a loving soul, and as much as I wanted to confide everything, I didn’t dare.  Nor would I tell my father—not yet.  There would come a time later when I would reveal the entire story, but I wanted them to know her first and care for her like I did.  Her not-so-normal background might influence them the wrong way, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Looks to me like she could use a woman’s touch,”  Hoss said, interrupting my thoughts.

“We’ll get to that.”  I patted his stomach and started walking away.  “But right now I need to find something for our guest to wear.”

“I get, I get,” Hop Sing said, running toward the stairs.  “You sit.  Eat with Missy.  I start bath and find clothes to fit young lady.”

“She has a name, Hop Sing.  Molly—her name is Molly,” I yelled at Hop Sing’s back as the Chinaman scurried up the stairs.

“Okay, Little Joe.  Missy Molly.  I get.  Fix Missy up just fine.”

“Little Joe?”  Molly said, turning to face Hoss and me.

“It means I’m the youngest.  I’ve got two older brothers who christened me with that name the day I was born.”

“You seemed awful big to me that night you was—”

“Eat up, Molly,” I said, sensing alarm bells ringing loudly.

Hoss looked quizzically at me and whispered.  “What’s she mean by that?  She need glasses or something?” 

“Eat some chicken, Brother.” 

Hoss and I took seats at the dining room table as the Chinese boss of the Ponderosa had ordered us to do.  “Looks like Hop Sing made enough food for three people,” I said, reaching for the platter of cold, fried chicken.  “Everything okay?” 

She nodded her head.  “Where’d that man get all this food?”

“Hop Sing?  Well, when you’ve finished eating, I’ll show you the kitchen.  That’s where our cook spends most of his time.  He does most of the cooking and cleaning around here.”

“You have a man what cooks?”

“Yes, we do, and just remember, Molly, any time you’re hungry, you just tell Hop Sing and he’ll whip you up whatever you want.”

“You mean it, Joe?  You really mean it?”

“He sure does, Little Lady,” said Hoss.  “Hop Sing fixes me anything I want to eat.  I just have to ask him politely.”

Molly looked at Hoss and then toward me.  “Hop Sing don’t like you?”

“Why would you say that?” 

Molly looked at Hoss again and back at me. 

“Oh, Hop Sing likes me just fine,” I said, finally catching on.  “See, mealtime is Hoss’s favorite time of day.  He just has a much bigger appetite than I do.”

“That’s for sure.” Hoss rubbed his rounded belly.  “A big wind could carry the two of you off to another territory, but me?  Not a chance.  There ain’t much hope for Joe, but Hop Sing will make it his highest priority to fatten you up some.  You can count on that.”

I was determined to make this work, and my confidence was escalating as I watched Molly relax in the chair across the table from Hoss.  Even with a hesitant start, she was beginning to feel comfortable.  And when she’d eaten her fill, I reached for her hand and guided her toward the stairs.  We’d tour the kitchen another day.

After reaching the top landing, Molly stopped and gazed down the long hallway before looking up and questioning me.  “Them’s all separate rooms behind them doors?”

“Yep.”  I pushed open the first paneled door.  “This room’s just for you.”

Molly let her eyes move from one corner of the room to the next.  The entire line shack would have fit inside these four walls.  In the center of the room stood a large four-poster bed with a bulky, down quilt and four plump pillows at the head.  A washstand stood to the side, and there was a floral curtain in the window that matched the cushion on the rocking chair in the far corner.

“All this for just one person?”

“Yep.  All this just for you, Molly.”

“So … where does everyone else sleep?”

“Come with me, darling.  I’ll give you the grand tour.”

I took Molly’s hand and together we strolled slowly down the hallway, opening every door so she could see everyone had their own bed inside their own bedroom. 

“Hop Sing?”

“Well, he sleeps in a room off the kitchen.  He gets up earlier than the rest of us so that way he doesn’t wake anyone else up.”

“Oh … he makes chicory?”

“Usually coffee.”

By now, we’d returned to Molly’s bedroom, and I could tell she was still studying everything, big and small, inside the generous space.  “Okay then,” I said.  “I see Hop Sing’s brought water for your bath, so you’re on your own.”  I walked toward the bed.  “He’s laid out these clothes, and you’ll have to make do until we can buy you something better in town.”

“I ain’t never seen a real tub before.  Always went down to the crick.”

“Here’s your chance to try it out.  Hop Sing left you soap too, so make sure you wash real good, even your hair, okay?”

“I sure will, Joe.  I’ll be clean as a whistle in no time.”

“Good,” I said, trying to contain a giggle.  “I’m gonna get cleaned up too, and by then maybe my father will be home.”

“Is … is he a big man like Hoss?”

“No one’s as big as Hoss, but Pa’s bigger than I am.  So you get cleaned up and it won’t be long till supper.”

“You mean we’s gonna eat again?”

“That’s right.  Its tradition around here.  Three meals a day.”

~~

I stared after Joe as he pulled the door closed behind him.  I was alone for the first time in the big house, and I realized what Orville musta been thinking when he first laid eyes on Joe.  He saw money—lots and lots of money.  I didn’t know much about telling the difference between them who had and them what didn’t, but Orville sure did.  I believe he’d have sold the pinto to the first buyer if Joe hadn’t scrambled up that hill, but he’d used me for bait instead.  Two bits here and two bits there, and maybe more from a rich man like Joe Cartwright.

But Joe weren’t like most men.  Maybe he thought I was too dirty, and that’s why he’s so set on me cleaning myself up in this tub.  I stared at the fluffy blanket and big pillows covering the bed, and I thought of Joe.  He’d been good to me.  He was a friend; a best friend, my only friend, and he’d brought me here to live with him.  Was this forever?  Was this how rich folks treated everyone?

~~

I stood in front of my mirror, skimming the razor across my face after soaking in the tub longer than I’d planned.  I’d nearly fallen asleep until a chill came over me after letting the water grow cold.  I hadn’t planned to leave Molly alone too long, and, being lost in thought as I pulled the blade up under my chin, I didn’t hear the bedroom door open, and I didn’t hear footsteps cross the room.

“Ouch!”  I gasped when the tip of the blade nicked my skin.

Molly had slipped up behind me, wrapping her still-damp arms around my waist, and rested the side of her face against my back.  She freed one hand and let it slide slowly down the front of my trousers in an attempt to arouse me before I turned sharply, letting the razor fall, only to bounce and clang as it hit the side of the china bowl.

 I grabbed hold of her arms.  “Molly, no!” 

Tears welled in her large, brown eyes.  Maybe I’d overreacted to her advances, but this wasn’t right—this wasn’t right at all.  As she shook off my hold, she stared into my eyes as if I were the meanest man on earth.  I reached for her; I needed to explain, but she panicked and ran toward the bedroom door.  Before I could react, she was gone, racing down the stairs as I called her name.

“Molly!  Molly, wait!”

I ran the damp towel across my face.  Dressed only in my trousers and boots, I didn’t take time to grab a clean shirt before I ran down the flight of stairs after her.

“Molly,” I called out again.

The front door stood open, and I raced out to the yard, but there was no sign.  I called her name.  I ran to one side of the house then the other.  Where would she go?  Where would she hide?  I’d embarrassed her; I’d made her feel small and unworthy.  God, I didn’t have time for that now.  I had to find her before Pa got home and …

~~

I climbed the wooden ladder and pressed my back against the wall then tucked myself behind fresh-smelling hay in the corner of the loft.  Why had Joe pushed me away?  Why was he acting so mean when I was only trying to please him?  My papa and even Orville always said I was a purty little thing so why did Joe hate me so much?  What had I done wrong?

“Get him a wanting you, gal,” Orville had said.

I tried.  I did what I do best, but Joe wouldn’t let me do him like all them other men what was Orville’s friends.  I squeezed my eyes tight shut as I remembered Orville haulin’ me out back to the lean-to and backhanding me ‘cross the face. 

“It don’t take a shitload a persuading to git a man wanting you.  You’s just a dim-witted little piece of shit if’n you cain’t figger that out.” 

The second backhand came harder and faster than the first and knocked me clear to the ground.  But as I pushed myself up, Orville tore at the back of my dress and bent me face down over the utility table.  He dropped his overalls and rubbed up against my bare skin. 

“You ain’t even worth your feed.  You’re so damn stupid, you cain’t even stir up the God-given need in some stranger who’s taking up space in my bed.” 

Orville’s loud grunts and groans paled in comparison to the pain I felt that day when Orville took me from behind, rested hisself, and took me a second time.  

“That man would’ve paid a helluva lot for you if you’d done ‘im right.  That man had money to burn.  Couldn’t you see that, girl?”

~~

After racing back to the front of the house, I hollered at Hoss who’d just come through the open door.  “Seen Molly?”  

“Nope.  She run off?”

I didn’t take time to answer.  I kept running until I reached the barn doors.  Thinking she may have done as I’d had when I was her age, I looked up before I scaled the ladder to the loft. 

“Molly?  You up there, darlin’?”

It didn’t take long to find her hiding behind a pile of hay.  Knowing I shouldn’t be out here alone only half-dressed with someone Molly’s age, I had no choice.  I couldn’t leave her cowering in the barn.  Though I kept my distance, I knelt down in front of the scared little girl.

“Molly, please don’t do this.  I’m sorry if I scared you.  It wasn’t my intention at all.”

“Why do you hate me, Joe?”  Tears streaked her face and her voice caught as she hiccupped back her cries.

“Oh, Molly.  I don’t hate you.  It’s just … we need to talk.  There are rules and—“

Molly fell forward.  She threw her arms around my neck, and against my better judgment, I pulled her close.  I stroked her silky, clean hair until the sobs subsided and I felt her breathing regularly again.

“I love you, Joe.”

“No, Molly.”

“Yes, I do, and you can’t tell me different.  I know what love is.”

“Molly … ”

I let my voice trail off.  What were the right words to say?  I pulled back, wanting to kick myself for screwing up again and sending Molly the wrong message.  Her thoughts were so messed up; I had to set her straight before—

Hooves slowly plodded.  Buck.  I could tell by the slow gait my father used when entering the barn.  Oh, God.  Could this day get any worse?  Here I was, a half-naked man twice the girl’s age, hovering over my father in the loft in a very compromising position.  Surely, Pa wouldn’t think—no … surely, he trusts me more than that.

“Someone up there?”  Pa called out when he heard Molly and I shuffling above him.

“Yeah, Pa, it’s me.  I was just coming down.”  The timing was what it was.  Only five minutes more, Molly and I would have been back in the house, and I would have been fully clothed.

Pa had already removed his saddle and blanket from Buck when I started down the ladder, but he didn’t turn around to look until he heard the second set of boots on the wooden rungs.  The scoop of grain was quickly put in place for his mount, and Pa stood with his hands planted firmly on his hips.  Molly took one look at my father and ran from the barn to the house.

“Pa, I can explain.”

“I think that would be wise, Joseph.”

“I—I’ll meet you inside,” I said, sidestepping my way toward the barn doors.

After grabbing a clean shirt, I settled Molly in her room.“I need to speak to my father privately.  Will you wait here until I come back?”  Molly turned on the bed facing away from me and didn’t want to hear anything I might have to say.  “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I smooth things over with my pa, all right?”  I walked out of the bedroom hoping she understood and hoping she’d stay put.  I descended the stairs to face my father.

Pa’s voice echoed through the room before I hit the first landing.  “You better have a darn good explanation, Joseph.”

I glanced at Pa’s brandy container. Should I start by handing my father a glass? Give him time to calm down?  It sure couldn’t hurt.  I poured each of us a drink.  “This might cushion the blow, Pa.”

“I can’t help but be concerned, son, and the faster you start explaining, the better off we’ll all be.”

I handed Pa a glass of brandy and kept the other for myself.  “It’s not what you think.”

“And just what am I thinking, Son?”

“I’ll start at the beginning, and you’ll see how this little mix-up is really nothing at all.”

I told Pa what I’d found while delivering the deer to the line shack.  Orville’s death, Molly left alone, and how I took charge of the situation.  Still, I didn’t mention Molly coming into my room.  Instead, I gave him some lame excuse about Molly being frightened and running to the loft.  I chased after her and only minutes later, Pa was leading Buck into the barn.

“So now what?  How old is this girl?”

“Fifteen, we think.”

“We think?”

“She’s not sure.”

Pa stood from his chair, poured himself a second drink, and asked if I wanted another.  I said no.  I figured I’d better keep my wits about me at least until I’d talked to Molly and straightened things out.

“You can’t keep her here.”

“Pa, please.  Did you hear anything I said?”

“There’s that newly built orphanage in Carson City, and I think the girl would be much better off—“

“No.  I won’t send her there.  She stays here, Pa.”

My father stopped in his tracks and looked at me sideways over his shoulder.  “What did you say?”

“Pa, I’m not a little kid.  I’m a grown man, and I’m old enough to make my own decisions.  Now, if you feel that’s not the case, if you want to fight me on this, I’ll take Molly and we’ll both stay somewhere else.”

“Joseph, I don’t understand.  What kind of hold does this girl have on you?”

“There’s no hold, Pa.  She’s young, and her grandfather treated her worse than a dog.  She’s frightened, and there’s no way I’m sending her off to live with anyone else.”  I stared into my father’s eyes wondering why we weren’t on the same page.  “Maybe in time, I’ll find a decent family who wants to adopt her.  Maybe.  But right now, she stays.”

“Joe—”

“No more arguing, Pa.  I know what I’m doing.”

Molly was reintroduced to Hop Sing when she heard him ranting over ungrateful family and food all cold as we descended the stairs together.  I whispered in Molly’s ear, “He gets that way sometimes; nothing to worry about.  You sit here next to me.”  I pulled the chair out for Molly and took the seat beside her. 

After we were all seated, and before platters were passed around the table, Pa bowed his head to say grace.  I reached under the table and squeezed Molly’s hand.  Everything was new and overwhelming to a girl who’d grown up knowing nothing about the normal practices or rituals of everyday life. 

Before we passed the platters around the table, Pa cleared his throat and turned toward me.

“Molly?  I want you to meet my father.  Pa?  This is Molly.”

“How do you do, Molly,” Pa said in his gentle voice.

Molly didn’t respond.  She looked up at me and I nodded.  “Just say hello,” I whispered.

“Hello,” she said to Pa.

“Joseph?  Will you help the young lady fill her plate?”

“Yessir.”

“Eat what you can.  You don’t have to eat everything on your plate.  Only Hoss does that.”

Molly looked across the table at Hoss.  She smiled and he smiled back. 

“My little brother is wrong about most things, Molly, but this time he’s absolutely right.  I’m known for cleaning my plate, ain’t that right, Pa?  Pa?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Son.  What did you say?”

“Ain’t nothin’ worth repeating.”

Hoss looked across the table at Molly and me, and I could tell he was disappointed in Pa’s silence and blatant avoidance of a guest at our table.  My father was executing his right to punish me by keeping silent.  It wasn’t Pa’s way to be rude or intimidate a houseguest, especially a child, but he was doing just that. 

I picked up my fork and motioned Molly to do the same, and she did.  But my brain wasn’t registering the problem.  I was too busy wondering if Pa was onboard with my decision.  The constant clanging of Molly’s fork hitting the china plate finally alerted me to the problem and, whether I should have or not, I chuckled.

“Here, Molly.”  I took the fork from her left hand and switched it to her right.  “This should work better now.”

When Molly felt she had eaten her fill, she leaned back in her chair—and belched.  “I‘s stuffed to the brim,” she said, rubbing her belly with both hands.  The three of us burst into fits of laughter, even Pa couldn’t contain himself then leaned forward and spoke.

“Molly,” he said.  I’m stuffed to the brim, too.”

This poor, uneducated girl brought laughter to our table and in time, she would capture my father’s heart.  I could see in his eyes, he was moving toward my way of thinking.  Molly wasn’t ready for the outside world.  She’d be lost in the crowd, and she was too special to be railroaded into an orphanage.

When she yawned and her eyes briefly closed, I figured it was time for bed.  “Come on,” I said, reaching for her hand.  “Let’s get you upstairs.”

“Night, Hoss,” she said, looking back over her shoulder.  “Night, Mr. Cartwright.”

I smiled as Pa and Hoss responded in unison.  “Goodnight, Molly.”

“That food sure was tasty, Mr. Cartwright.  And we do this again tomorrow?”

“That’s right, and the day after, and the day after that,” Pa said.  “Sweet dreams, Young Lady.”

After giving Molly a pair of my longjohns to sleep in, I told her I’d be back shortly to tuck her in.  As I stood outside her room, waiting for her to change, I thought of my father, and I felt pride and gratitude for a man who maybe didn’t agree with my way of thinking but was willing to keep his thoughts to himself considering the awkward situation.  When Molly called out, I walked into her room and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Tomorrow, I’m going to take you into town and buy you enough pretty dresses to fill that wardrobe.”

“What’s town, Joe?”

“Town?  Well, it’s a place where people buy things they need like clothes or food or a new saddle for Cochise … things like that.”

“I see,” she said, but her eyes roamed the room before they settled back on mine.  “Did you buy all these fixings at town?”

“Most of them, yes we did.”

A smile crossed Molly’s face.  “We never had much fixings, Joe.  Orville used the money he made off the whiskey and off me to buy more supplies to make more whiskey.”

“All that’s changed now, Molly.  You can have anything you want.  We’ll buy new dresses and bonnets, and new boots and stockings, and pretty bows for your hair, and even a bag of candy from the general store.”

Her eyes rounded like brilliant globes.  “Oh! Town’s like a trading post.”

“Yeah, pretty much but more of everything.”

“Is there lot’s a people at town?”

“Sure there are.  There are men and women and children just like you.  There are big buildings and—” I watched her shrink back into her pillows.  “There’s nothing to fear, Molly.  I’ll be with you the whole time.  I won’t leave your side, even for a minute.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.  Now, young lady, you get to sleep, and we’ll head out early tomorrow morning.”

Molly tucked the heavy quilt up under her chin and snuggled down under the covers.

“It may be too warm for that heavy blanket.”

“No it ain‘t,” she said, snuggling down even farther in the bed.  “I’s just fine.”

I leaned in to kiss Molly’s forehead but quickly refrained, remembering what she’d said in the loft.  A kiss would only lead her on, and that’s the last thing I intended to do.  “See you in the morning,” I said, standing up from the edge of the bed and turning to leave.

“See you in the morning.”

I stood at the bedroom door as Molly rolled to her side, still buried under the heavy quilt.  I understood the excitement of sleeping in a real bed with sheets and blankets and all the “fixings” a young girl could ever want, but overall sadness burned at my eyes as I closed the bedroom door behind me.

“Coffee?”  Pa asked after I’d come down the stairs.  I nodded and collapsed on the settee.  It had been a very long day, and I was exhausted.  But more than just being tired, I dreaded the explanation I’d have to give.  I figured if I was going to get any sleep tonight, I’d better explain the entire situation to my father.

“Hoss already in bed?”

“He practically followed you up the stairs.  He did double chores today and a thank you wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re right, and I’ll tell him first thing tomorrow.”

I studied my hands as though they held the written words I wanted to say.  How much should I really tell Pa about Molly’s past?  Should I go the limit or sugarcoat the more horrific events?

“About Molly, Pa.”  I glanced up at my father.  “There’s things I haven’t told you about the girl.”

“I thought as much,” Pa replied as he eased himself down in his leather chair.  Sulfur filled the room when he struck a match to light his pipe.  “What is it, Joe?  What are you holding back?”

“You see, Molly lived with her grandfather and—”

“Yes, Joseph.  You explained that to me before your trip back to the line shack.” 

My emotions surfaced and it wasn’t a good time to fall apart.  I felt responsible for Molly, and I’m not sure why I felt I was the only one who could save her from a life of hell.  I had to make Pa understand how fragile and how helpless she was to fend for herself.  I stood up from the settee and placed the palms of my hands against the cool stones of the fireplace.  I looked over my shoulder and found patience and understanding in my father’s eyes.

“He mistreated her, Pa.  Her grandfather—he used her for his own … his own satisfaction.”

“You mean he took advantage … sexually?”

I couldn’t repeat the word.  I nodded my head.

“Oh, Joseph.  I didn’t realize.”

“For two years, at least.  It started when she was barely old enough to—Pa; I have to help her through this.  Don’t ask me why, but I feel responsible.”

Pa stood and set his pipe in the stand.  “Sometimes life is unfair, son, and it seems Molly paid a price at an early age.”

“That’s not all,” I said.  My father slid his arm across my shoulder, and I trembled knowing what I needed to say next.  “He sold her to his friends.  He let men pay to use her.”

There was silence, dead silence then Pa spoke.  “I know what you’re trying to do, Son, but the damage might be too great.  She may never get over—”

“Oh, yes she will, Pa.  If it takes a lifetime of trying, I’ll make sure no one ever touches her that way again.”

“Does Hoss know?”

“No.”

“Maybe this is best left between just you and me for now.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Now,” Pa said in a lighter tone.  “You should take her to see Paul Martin.  Let him examine her, make sure she’s not physically damaged in some way.”

Pa rubbed my back like I was a child who needed comforting.  Maybe I did.  Maybe all this business with Molly was too much for me to handle alone.  “All right.  I planned to take her into Virginia City tomorrow to shop for clothes.  We’ll stop by Paul’s while we’re there.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Son.  You’ve had a very trying day.”

“I will.”  I looked into my father’s eyes.  “Thanks.”

Pa smiled the type of smile that said he understood and he would help in any way possible.  “Goodnight, Joseph.”

“Night, Pa.”

~~

The only thing missin’ is Joe lyin’ beside me.  His soapy-clean skin and gentle touch as his arms wrap around me, pulling me close, kissing and touching me like no other man before.  I wrap my arms around my pillow and pretend he’s here with me.  And though tonight I would only dream of my sweet Joe, I knew someday my dreams would all come true but then the nightmare begins when Orville’s shadow blankets my pillow.  He stands over us with a whip in his hands.  He pushes Joe out of the way and suddenly; Ugly Elbert is climbing on top of me, forcing my legs apart and unfastening his coveralls.  I stare into his eyes as he lowers his longjohns and forces hisself inside.  His wheezing, whiskey breath pours over me, and he locks his arm tight against my throat.  I can’t breathe.  I’m gasping and I call out for Joe.  I call but no one comes.  Ugly paid his two bits, and he takes me more’n once but Orville won’t pull him away …

~~

Weeks passed.  It seemed the nightmares had ended and Molly was able to sleep through the night without waking or crying out for help.  I’d taken her to town with me on a number of occasions.  Every time I went for supplies, or mail or whatever was needed, she was by my side.  My family had become experts on different subjects as we all took turns helping with her schooling.  She was an intelligent girl, not backward or by any means slow so she caught on quickly, but she was at least five years behind the other children her age.  Preparing her for the classroom would take a miracle, but I refused to send her unprepared, only to be laughed and gawked at by the other children.

Molly had settled in nicely and she took her studies seriously, but I could tell Pa was concerned when her attention span always lasted longer when I was in the room.  “It’s a kid’s crush on the teacher,” I’d said, hoping to smooth things over with my father.  “Nothing more than gratitude.”  But Pa wasn’t buying.  He feared she’d never want to leave, and he was constantly pushing me to find a nice, wholesome family where she would be raised with a woman’s touch and a father’s love.

I wasn’t oblivious to Molly’s affection and maybe I’d brought some of it on myself.  I’d taken her everywhere with me but for a purpose.  I wanted to expose her to another way of life.  We rode fence together.  We’d round up strays or she’d sit on the corral fence while I broke in a new string of broncs.  Maybe it wasn’t proper female upbringing, but she was learning all the same.  She was seeing how a ranch was run—that there was more to life than jugs of whiskey and daily encounters with a despicable old man.

When she had gone to the barn alone with Hoss to watch a foal make his initial appearance into the world, I was so happy she’d learned to trust someone besides me.  It was a huge step for Molly, and I was proud of my little girl.

Molly had learned to laugh, to have fun and act like a child her age, but I agreed with Pa in one respect.  She needed a woman’s touch, something none of us could provide.  But as time went by, the thought of Molly leaving the ranch became more difficult for me to bear.

Pa had talked to the Reverend Jamison about finding her a new family—a new place to live other than the Ponderosa—but so far no one was willing to take a half-grown girl into their home.  Prospective parents wanted either a baby girl or boys old enough to work the ranch or farm.  And when Pa would mention the orphanage, I put my foot down until he had reservations of his own about her care and safety in a place like that.

Molly was a pretty girl and with proper food and the lack of daily stress, she was blossoming into a beautiful young lady.  Her hair shone like a field of golden wheat.  Her young body had developed fully and with her tainted background, she needed special guidance in learning proper ways to act around young men.

Mrs. McGinley was a widowed shopkeeper I’d persuaded to help Molly with the layers of clothing she’d have to wear under her dresses.  She was gracious enough to take Molly by the hand and instruct her on what clothing was appropriate for every day and what type of dress was worn on special occasions.  I’d thanked her and paid her well for her efforts.  I’d even had thoughts of Molly living with Sarah McGinley and how that might work out, but that’s as far as it went.  I wasn’t ready to part ways with the girl who, by some strange luck-of-the-draw, had become my charge.

Molly had never been happier.  She loved the Ponderosa and everyone in my family.  She’d become our little princess, and we all cared deeply for the young waif turned beautiful young woman.  I’d started inviting friends and neighbors to join us for dinner over the last few weeks so Molly could practice her newly refined etiquette.  No more belching at the dinner table, and in every way possible, I was proud of our thriving, young princess.

“Hey, Pa,” I said, as Molly and I walked through the front door.

“Did you two have a good time?”

“We sure did, Mr. Cartwright.  Joe took me down to the lake and taught me how to skip stones across the water.  I can do it almost as good as him now.”

“That sounds fine.  Listen, why don’t you go upstairs and get washed up and we’ll have some lunch.”

“Okay,” she said and bounced happily up the stairs.

My father waited until Molly was well out of sight before he spoke.  “Joseph, we need to talk.”

“Sure, Pa, what’s up?”

“Come and sit down.”

I hung my hat and jacket next to the front door and unfastened my gunbelt.  I rolled up my sleeves as I walked over to join Pa at the dining room table.  “Something wrong?”

Pa nodded for me to sit down, and he carefully slid a cup of coffee across the table.  “We need to discuss Molly.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“All right.”  I pulled out a chair and sat down beside my father.  “What’s this all about?”

“I want you to hear me out—preferably without interruption.”

I chuckled softly.  “This sounds serious, Pa.  What am I missing here?”

“This afternoon I received a wire from William Watson.”

“Okay … and this has something to do with me?”

“Well, William and I were discussing the contracts last week for the timber we plan to supply the railroad, and I happened to mention Molly and … and that you were looking for a family to adopt her.”

“Pa,” I said, but my father held up his hand.

“Let me finish.  As I was saying, William casually mentioned he and Martha might be interested.  Of course, they’d like to meet her and … so … I’ve invited them to dinner tomorrow night.”

“You should have asked me first, Pa.”

“Joe—” My father may have made a mistake in judgment, but he wasn’t backing down. 

“How well do you know them, Pa?  Watson’s a business partner, that’s all.”

“I’ve had dealings with Watson for years, Joe.  You’ve met him and his wife, Martha, on numerous occasions.  They’re fine people and pillars of the community.  You know as well as I, you couldn’t find a better family for Molly anywhere.”

I stood and crossed the room then turned back to look at my father.  “This should have been my decision, Pa.  You had no right—”

“Joseph?”  My father motioned me to sit down.  “We need to talk this out.  The longer you put this off the harder it’s going to be.”

“I know, I know.  I just don’t know if—”

“Joe, you’ll need to tell Molly.”  Pa cut me off; he was past discussing the matter further.  He was set on having this dinner, and I had no say one-way or the other.  “Let her know we’re having company for dinner tomorrow night.  Let’s see how it goes.  You don’t have to tell her anything but to be on her best behavior.  There’s no need to tell her why the Watson’s are coming.”

The thought of strangers gaping at Molly, deciding if she was good enough to be their daughter was wrong, so very wrong.  I stared down at Pa.

“Joseph—please.  Do this for me.”

At this point, an argument would be worthless.  Plans had been made whether I agreed or not.  Dress and act appropriately and see if you fit the bill.  Is that what I should tell Molly?

“I’ll let her know we’re having guests for supper.  That’s all.”

~~

Mama used to hold me on her lap and tell me make-believe stories she called fairytales.  After she and Papa died, I would often sit by the stream and dream of a day when the clouds would part, and my knight in shining armor would swoop down from a sun drenched sky and take me in his arms.  He would lift my hand to his lips and his gentle kiss would transform me into a beautiful princess with flowing blonde hair and a white, satin dress.  And he’d place me on his magnificent steed and he would carry me to his castle where we would dine like kings and queens, and I would sleep on a featherbed next to my handsome prince forever.

My dream had become real and I cherished my new life with Joe and his family.  According to Mr. Cartwright, I’d become a real lady and never again would I be sold for two bits to any backwoods mountain man.  Joe was proud of me too and everyday he’d teach me something new.  I learned how to curtsy, when to speak and when to hold my tongue.  I was allowed to make my own decisions, even at the mercantile when my prince let me pick a gift for myself.  Whether whimsical or practical, he’d let me choose.

And when Joe and I went to town yesterday, he took me to Daisy’s Café for lemonade.  My face flushed when Miss Daisy leaned over and whispered in Joe’s ear how lucky he was to have such a pretty young lady to squire around town.  He reached out, squeezed my hand, and looked me straight in the eye.  “She’s quite lovely, isn’t she, Daisy?”  I knew it was a sign—a sign of Joe’s undying love.

Husband and wife.  Prince and princess.  It wouldn’t be long now before he realized we were meant for each other and no one could stand in our way.

A sudden knock on my door brought me to my senses.  My prince had come calling.  I pinched my cheeks for that slight dusting of color before I answered his call.

“Come in, my love.”

~~

After letting myself in Molly’s room, I realized I was not yet prepared for the most difficult conversation I would ever have with my young ward.

“Is something wrong, Joe?”

I nearly smiled.  Molly knew me that well, and my features must have expressed the regret I felt over our upcoming talk.  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said.  “We just need to talk.”  I ran my hand through my hair as I crossed the room then pulled out the desk chair and sat down.

Molly sat on the bed across from me with her hands folded loosely in her lap.  She looked different somehow, anxious, waiting.  Happy?  I wasn’t sure what to think.  But suddenly, she was on her knees and running her hands up my thighs.  I took her hands in mine, gripping them tightly. 

“No, Molly.  This isn’t the way.”

Tears filled her young eyes and she dropped her chin to her chest.  I stood and pulled her up with me only to lead her back to her seat on the bed so we could finish our talk.

“I need to talk to you about something important, and you need to listen to every word I say.”  I sat back in the chair and gave her a minute to collect herself before I cleared my throat and began.  “You okay?” 

“I’m fine.  What did you want to say?”

But she wasn’t fine, and I’d have to use more tack than I originally planned.  “We’re having dinner guests tomorrow.”

“We always have guests, Joe.”

“Well, tomorrow’s different.  We’re having special guests.  Friends of my fathers, and they’re friends of Hoss’ and mine too.”

“Oh?  Why are they special?”

I’d changed my mind before entering Molly’s bedroom.  I decided to be truthful and not hide behind a veil of lies and deception.  Molly was due the truth no matter how harsh the words sounded or how uneasy I felt when I gave her the news.

“Because the purpose of this particular dinner is so these people can meet you.  See, well, let me backtrack.  Their names are William and Martha Watson and Mrs. Watson, well, she was never able to have children of her own and they’re coming here to . . . they would like to meet you and maybe, if all goes well, they might like to have you live with them in their home.”

“You mean I wouldn’t live here anymore with you?”

“That’s right, Molly.”  I was fumbling with the right words to say.  How could I explain—

“Why do you want to send me away?”

“I’d visit all the time, Molly.  We’d see each other—

“But why?” 

“Molly, you need to listen.”

“No, I won’t.  I can’t.”  Both eyes reddened as tears slipped down her cheeks.  “I’m not pretty enough?  Is that it?  Did you find a girl more prettier than me?”

“Molly, please—”

“It’s Orville, ain’t it?  It’s all them other men what done me back at the cabin?  Why, Joe?  Why don’t you want me?  I’ll make you happy—please don’t send me away.” 

“It’s not what I want to do, Molly.  It’s what I have to do.”

“Why do you hate me?”

I stood from my chair and pulled Molly up with me.  “Please don’t cry.”  I stroked her hair and felt every tremor coursing through her body.  “I don’t hate you.  I could never hate you, but living here is wrong.  You need a family, not just a bunch of men who don’t know how to raise a young lady.  You need a woman—a mother—in your life.”

“No, I don’t need no woman.  I need you.”

I held Molly away from me and tilted her chin until her eyes met mine, but she jerked herself away and a look I’d never seen before came over her.  “I hate you!  I hate you!  Just get away from me and leave me alone!”

“Molly, please—”

“Go away!  I don’t want you here.”

I backed away; I started toward the door.  “I’ll be downstairs.”

Molly had folded her arms across her chest and turned her back to me.  Our talk had gone terribly wrong, just as I knew it would.  I should have prepared her for this.  I should have said no to Pa.  I should have done everything differently.  I’d failed to convey the proper message to a girl who’d been thrown to the wolves at an early age.  Not once has she been given a choice of how to live her own life.  I tossed her a crumb then I took it away; a life of happiness ripped out from under her.  No wonder she hated me.  I’d feel that way, too.

Needing to distance myself from everyone after causing Molly so much pain, I headed straight to the barn and saddled my horse.  The thought of sitting through supper making idle chitchat burned at my stomach like a fire-breathing dragon in one of Adam’s old storybooks.  As I rounded the corner of the barn, I heard Pa call out but I never looked back.  I rode harder than I should have.  Guilt over Molly tore at me, and I’d be damned if I’d sit and discuss the situation any further.

The Watsons would be our guests for dinner tomorrow night.  How could I justify sitting at the dining room table with literal strangers, encouraging Molly to be polite in order to persuade this couple to find her charming and say yes, we‘ll take her to be our daughter.  Memories of the day we sat by the stream while Molly painted pictures of her past so matter-of-factly drilled through my head and pounded relentlessly with every new detail of her miserable life. 

What would she remember about me or the Ponderosa?  That I was nothing but a traitor, that I’d brought her out of hell and gave her a life she had to give up after just so long?  Orville Krebs had never been mentioned again after that day by the stream.  She’d moved on once, could she manage to do it again?

I barely remember tethering Cochise outside the Silver Dollar, and I barely remember nursing a half bottle of whiskey but when the auburn-haired barmaid teased the side of my face with her painted nails, I suddenly came back to life.  Since I’d taken a corner table in the rear of the saloon, I hadn’t expected a visitor but I’d known Mel for years.  Some days we were friends and some days we were lovers but when she rested her hand on my upper thigh, well …

I hadn’t been with a woman since Carson City, since the day before I’d met Molly and had become her keeper.  Months had passed, and I hadn’t even given thought to a night on the town.  But, between the whiskey and Mel’s obvious attention, the thought of spending a night with the soiled dove seemed much more plausible than riding home and facing the sacrifices we all make when we’re only trying to do good.

I poured us each a drink, draining the bottle and promising Mel I’d hold down the fort until she finished her shift.  “If you’ll sashay on up to the bar and get me another bottle, I’m yours for the night.”

“Oh my,” she said, fanning her face with her long, delicate fingers.  “How could I ever deny such a romantic gesture?”

I pulled her to my lap, wrapped my arm around her slim waist and whispered.  “You’re the most beautiful woman in all of Nevada.  You’re the music in my soul and the reason I live and breathe.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, Little Joe?”  I loved when Mel laughed.  Her eyes lit up and her cheeks flushed cherry red.  “I’ll get you that bottle.”

“That’s my girl,” I called out as she stood to walk away.

I smiled and shook my head.  Not many called me Little Joe anymore.  Sure, some of the old-timers like Roy and Paul Martin and of course, Hop Sing would never change his ways, but Melanie and I went way back.  And though she wasn’t my first, she ran a very close second and would always be dear to my heart.  

She loved to tease and play games, and she’d undoubtedly broken many hearts, even as a working girl at the Silver Dollar Saloon.  And after she hooked her high-heeled boot over the railing at the bar and shimmied her skirt above her knee, she looked back over her shoulder and winked.  Between the whiskey and Mel, I could actually relax, leave my thoughts and worries behind, and enjoy a night on the town.  

Maybe Pa was right.  Maybe I’d become too attached.  I couldn’t be mother and father to Molly, so maybe this was for the best after all.  Molly would learn all the social graces from a woman like Martha Watson.  Womanly questions would be answered correctly, not the fumbling answers I tried to convey over the past few months.

Mel set the bottle on my table and lifted her leg, placing her booted foot on the chair next to mine.  And as she adjusted her laces, I stared at her ankle and visualized the night ahead, but when I reached for that outstretched leg, she stayed me with the palm of her hand.

“Save it, Cowboy.”

“You’re a tease, Mel.”

“Maybe, but I’ll treat you to a night you’ll long remember.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

After a quick kiss on the cheek, Melanie snaked through the crowded room, fulfilling her obligation as barmaid.  It was Saturday night, and the saloon overflowed with miners and cowboys alike.  I’d skipped dinner and realized I’d missed lunch too.  I’d consumed way too much alcohol, and I had too much time to kill waiting for Mel.  A breath of fresh air, a trip to the outhouse might sober me up some.  But when I stood, my balance was a bit shaky, and I found I’d steadied myself against a miner twice my size. 

“Sorry fella, my fault,” I said rather sheepishly.

“Watch where you’re going, jackass,” he said, grabbing the front of my shirt.

‘Whadya call me?”  Suddenly, I was as sober as a judge.

“I called ya a jackass.  Got a problem with that?”

Blood pulsed and heat rushed to my face over the miner’s snide remark.  I was in no condition to fight, but no one called me a jackass and remained standing upright for long.  I turned my back as though leaving well-enough alone then swung back, throwing a solid punch at the man’s midsection and a quick left to his lower jaw.  The miner just stood there, swaying, but not enough to alter his stance.  My eyebrows rose and a forlorn expression of “what-the-hell” probably showed in my eyes. 

As a young boy, I was taught to think first and act second.  Heeding those words might have been a smarter choice since the last thing I remember is the big man balling his beefy fist …

Fragmented voices surrounded me, Melanie’s being one.  “Charlie?  Hank?”  I began to stir.  “Help Mr. Cartwright to his horse.”  As I was hauled to my feet, I searched wearily for Mel but after I was settled on top of Cochise, I had no choice but pray I’d make it home in one piece.

Years ago, Pa would have been pacing the room, staring at the clock, and planning the lecture I’d be forced to endure while still in the throes of too much alcohol.  Never put off till tomorrow what you can accomplish in the middle of the night.  The evil of alcohol and a young man’s ability to reason went right over my head in those days, and by the next Saturday night, I was pushing the limits of Pa’s endurance once again.

Unlike that young, foolish boy, I stabled my horse and made it up to the house without incident.  I tiptoed up the stairs sliding my hand along the rail and down the hallway walls until I reached my room.  The house was silent, everyone was sleeping and I planned to do the same.  After removing my boots and throwing my hat on the chair, I fell back on the bed keeping one foot on the floor like Adam had taught me years ago.  I threw my arm across my forehead, and visions of what might have been with the beautiful Melanie seeped into my mind …

     We’d walk up the stairs hand-in-hand; her room was far away from the grating shouts, and the gay, simple tunes hammered out on the piano below.  Mel would have teased me unmercifully all evening long, making me more than eager to let her have her way with me by whatever means she chose.  I would be nothing but a pawn in her game of romantic seduction. 

     She’d close the door behind us, and a swirl of purple satin might brush across my legs as she turned around to face me straight on.  Her blue eyes would flash with excitement and without wasting anymore time; I’d reach for the pin holding her hair.  Highlighted with henna, her silky mane would cascade over her shoulders as she lifted and shook her head to loosen the tightly wound curls.  And with my eyes never leaving hers, I’d place my hands at the small of her back and pull her toward me.  And when she reached out to touch me, I’d ease her arms back to her sides. 

     “Allow me,” I’d say, slipping the silky fabric from her pale, white shoulders.  “It’s time           you lay back and enjoyed the ride?”

     “I like your style, cowboy.”

     “Thought you might.” 

     Rather than giving her full rein, I chose to use my own imagination and see if I could pleasure Mel the way she’d always pleasured me.  I couldn’t offer her a candlelit dinner or quiet conversation but maybe for a time, I could show her she was more than second best according to the fancy bluebloods of Virginia City.  Men would call her a whore, a plaything, a woman without a soul, but I knew better.  Her profession had not deadened her soul or her acceptance of a loving touch.  Could I make her feel?  Could she get lost in the dance? 

     Her breathing became hesitant as I slowly released each tiny button until the bodice of her dress fell to her waist and exposed her creamy white breasts.  And when she reached for the buttons on my shirt, I shook my head, no.  I wanted control.  I wanted to set the pace, eager to satisfy, eager to bring out the fire within.

     I would teach her restraint, patience, and the feeling of being loved rather than forced to perform.  With her hands by her sides, I untucked and unbuttoned my own shirt then let the back of my fingers skim slowly from her waist, between her breasts to the underside of her chin before leaning in for a kiss.

     With our clothing finally removed and in a heap on the bedroom floor, I lay down beside her, letting my hand drift slowly but with certainty between her legs, acknowledging her wetness and feeling her tremble with anticipation as she spread herself fully, allowing my fingers to penetrate deep inside.  She tilted her hips, arching in the luxury of having someone else provide pleasure.  Again, she reached for me, and I gently but firmly pushed her hands away, keeping her eager and demanding more until she could stand it no longer and would plead and cry out for me to enter her hidden domain.

     Carefully, I moved myself on top, slipping my legs between hers.  And when her body quivered with unrestrained passion, she brought her hands toward me.  Reaching for my shoulders, I shook my head.  Her arms fell back on the mattress and she sighed in frustration.  I clasped my hands over her wrists; I leaned down and kissed her, still holding myself off until she could stand the erotic game no longer.  I began easing myself inside, teasing her with the slightest retraction, until I entered her fully.

I opened my eyes to a moonlit room.  My room.  I looked beside me; I was alone.  The dream was so real, so vivid in my mind I nearly chuckled aloud.  Too much alcohol will do that and with no food in my stomach, I’d had more than my share of hard liquor.  I reached for my swollen eye where the big man’s fist had connected and the night’s events came crashing back.  There was no going upstairs with Melanie, only a long ride home in the middle of the night.

My right foot was still anchored to the floorboards and I dared not move and inch until morning.  I closed my eyes.  My head still swirled with hazy thoughts of Mel as I fell back asleep.

Her gentle warmth adjacent to my chest was all it took to arouse me but this time I would give her full rein, and I would obey her directives like an eager puppy waiting for a beefy bone.  Her hands were soft and gentle; she was a pro and more than most barmaids, she enjoyed offering up her hidden skills.  Not every woman could take me on such an incredible ride as the sensuous, vivacious Mel. 

 The room stopped spinning, and I let my arms fall to either side of my body as she   worked her magic fingers across my goose-fleshed skin.  Although I winced at the pain when she touched the tender spot high on my cheekbone, I let it pass.  I let the fantasy continue.

Her hands gave way to her mouth, soft and gentle, but with such purpose.  I reached down, letting my fingers entwine in her long silky hair.  God, she was good, and as much as I tried to hold back and appreciate her seductive presence, I couldn’t hold out much longer.  My breathing intensified; I was at her mercy but without warning, my mind began to betray me.

      Hadn’t I ridden home from Virginia City?  I would never bring Mel to my father’s house.  So real, so damn real.  I tried to call out her name, but the dream silenced me.  Her warmth surrounded me as she took me in her mouth.  She’d taken me too far and I was past holding back.  The final release.  The euphoria of passion . . .

“Oh God—no!”  I cried, as I’d cried once before.  “No, Molly, No—”

But it was too late; there was no turning back.  As much as I tried to contain myself, the deed was done, complete in all sense of the word.  Like a small child, I threw my arm over my eyes.  I wouldn’t—I couldn’t see the outcome if I covered my eyes.

My head pounded; my body shuddered even though I was nearly spent.  Everything that could go wrong in my life exploded within me, leaving me drained and silently crying for help.  How had I not known?  Why hadn’t I heard her enter my room, lie down beside me, touch me?  God, how could this have happened in my father’s house?

To my left, I detected a buttery glow.  From dark to light, a lantern shone, moving shadows across the room and across the bed where Molly lay beside me.  My father blocked the doorway.  Though his features were blackened in shadow, the stark reality of my inappropriate state sent waves of panic crushing my soul while leaving me weak and helpless to rectify the situation.

Guilt affects a man’s core.  I felt weak, nearly helpless to undo the damage I’d caused in only a moment’s time.  I’d forfeited my integrity simply because I was unaware of my surroundings.  I was too drunk to . . . God . . . what the hell would happen now?

“Joe?”

She lifted her head from my chest where she’d cowered and tried to hide herself from my father just moments ago.  Her voice pierced the silence, broke through my thoughts and left me even more terrified of moving, of disengaging myself from the compromising position I’d found myself in.  What would my father do or say in his state of disbelief? 

But I had to move.  I had to find Pa, talk, explain everything.  But how?  How would I—where would I start and would he believe anything I said?  After that little problem in the barn, I wasn’t so sure.

I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and, in my rush to rectify; my stomach nearly gave way.  I adjusted my trousers and buttoned my shirt.  Molly placed her hands on my shoulders and, leaning toward my left ear, she whispered, “I love you, Joe.”

Molly’s voice was clear and precise, and I realized she believed every word.  I chose to remain silent.  I chose not to look at her.  Again, a childish trick of deceiving myself, of pretending.  If I didn’t acknowledge her, if I didn’t see her, maybe she’d go away.  Maybe she was never here at all.

I listened to her sobs; her fingers tightened on my shoulders.  I’d thought she was Mel, a dream, a fantasy.  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.  I didn’t think it was possible, but her grip tightened.  Why didn’t I move away?  What prevented me from telling her how wrong this had been?

Pa was waiting, of that I was sure.  I had to make an appearance.  “I have to go, Molly.  I have to speak with my father.”

Her arms circled my chest.  She locked her fingers together in a death grip behind my back.  “Don’t leave me, Joe.  Please don’t leave me.”

I pulled her hands away; I stood from my bed and I turned to face her.  “I have to speak to my father; I have to do it now.  You go back to your room and I’ll be up later.  Please,” I said, as though my directive hadn’t been enough.

“You’ll come to me?”

I took in a deep breath.  “I’ll speak to my father first.  Then we’ll talk.  I want you to stay upstairs while I try to explain—”

“You’ll tell him we’re in love with each other?”

“Molly, please.  Just do as I ask.”

She wore a pink dressing gown with nothing but flesh showing underneath.  And when she stood from the bed, she fumbled with the sash, bringing both sides to the front and tying a simple knot.  Her movements were slow, and I found myself looking away until she was properly covered and ready to go back to her room.

When her bedroom door clicked shut, I left my own room.  My heart beat unnaturally.  I stood unsteady at the top of the stairs, hiding from the lamp’s light positioned next to my father’s leather chair.  He must have stoked the fire; a cadence of shadows played a symphony across the floorboards, just the way my stomach played violently with uncertainty.

I hesitated; I even took a step back when the grandfather clock struck three.  There’d be no sleep tonight, only unpleasant conversation as I tried to defend myself when there was no reasonable defense possible.  I started down the stairs.  Pa, a roaring fire and a bottle whiskey, not my father’s normal drink of choice, were there to greet me as I took a seat on the settee then turned to face my father. 

“I don’t know where to start, Pa.  I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sure you can come up with something, Joseph.”

“It’s not what it seems.  You don’t understand.”

“Try me.”  Pa’s voice was deep, his tone harsh and demanding.

“This isn’t easy.”

“No, it’s not and I’ll give you one minute to collect yourself, but do you have any idea how serious this matter is?  Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I know what happened.  You don’t have to shove it down my throat.”

Besides being disrespectful to my father, I realized my choice of words had been highly inappropriate. 

“Get on with it, Joseph.  Tell me why I find my son with a fifteen-year-old girl in his bed?  How I catch my son half naked in the loft with the same child—child, Joseph!  Is that why you brought her to live here?  How could you, Joe?  How could you be so—”

“—for God sake, Pa.  You think I planned this?  Is that what you really think?”

“Lower your voice, Joseph.”

“Why?  You’ve already made up your mind.  You already know everything, don’t you, Pa.”

“What do you expect me to think?”

“I don’t know, but you’re wrong.  Real wrong.”

“Okay,” he said, lowering his own voice.  “Explain why I’m wrong and you’re right.”

Now that the anger and shouting was behind us, at least for the moment, maybe I could explain and maybe Pa would hear me out.  I met my father’s challenging glare then felt the need to steady myself with a shot of whiskey.  Since Pa hadn’t brought me a glass, I stood from the settee and crossed the room, picked up a glass and returned to my seat. 

“I might need this,” I said.

Pa said nothing.  He held out his own glass, and I poured him a refill. 

“Tonight wasn’t the first time,” I said.  “Well, actually it was, but it wasn’t the first time I found myself in a compromising position with—the girl.  You need to hear me out, Pa.  You need to know how tonight came about.”

“I’m listening.”

I threw back the shot.  It burned and, mixing with my earlier intake of alcohol, I shuttered and set the glass down on the table.  “It all started that day I hurt my ankle, and I was taken to the Krebs’ cabin to rest.”

Pa’s reaction was subtle.  He was trying desperately to hold back anything he might say in anger.  I told him about the night in the cabin, how I’d found Molly in my bed, just like I had tonight.  “But tonight, I was too drunk to know.”  Although a poor excuse, it was the truth.  “I thought it was a dream until it was too late, and I was past holding back.  There was nothing I could do to stop—”

I looked up at Pa, and we both turned our attention to the stairs after hearing Hoss’ heavy footsteps.

“Why‘s everyone awake at this hour?” 

“Why don’t you make yourself useful,” I said, staring up at Hoss.

“Huh?”

“Why don’t you make us all coffee?”

“Coffee?”

“Your brother might as well hear this too,” Pa said.

Hoss scratched at his thinning hair.  “I’m missin’ somethin’, ain’t I?”

“We’d appreciate some coffee, son.  Would you mind?”

Hoss mumbled to himself as he crossed the room toward the kitchen.  I found it funny somehow, but this certainly wasn’t the time or place to make light of any situation.  But what I realized, too, was life goes on and yes, tonight had posed a problem, but we’d get past it somehow.  The sun would come up and a new day would begin.  I would talk to Molly like I had before and we’d move on.  This wasn’t the end of the world.

Pa stood and motioned toward the dining room table.  We both sat in silence waiting for Hoss and the pot of hot coffee, which I needed over another shot of whiskey.  My brother poked his head out through the doorway. 

“Who wants cake?”

I shook my head; I feared speaking out loud.  How simple life was for Hoss.  Coffee and cake—an instant remedy for what ails a man in the middle of the night.  If I said the wrong thing or used the wrong tone of voice, Pa might get the wrong idea.  My brother had lightened the mood even for Pa.  The deep-set lines creasing his forehead were less visible after Hoss’ simple question.

It was time for the whole truth about Molly.  Her parent’s death from the fever, Orville taking her to his bed, the whiskey, the exchange of money for sexual favors, everything that lead to what happened tonight and when Hoss took his seat at the table, my story began.  Maybe, over the course of telling, I’d said too much, given too many facts about Molly because Hoss excused himself from the table and walked out the front door.  His chocolate cake sat uneaten.

I glanced at Pa.  “I said too much, didn’t I?”

“You know Hoss.  Give him time to let the story sink in.  He’ll be back.”

I rubbed my temples hard.  My head pounded but I continued.  “The day you found us in the loft, I thought we had everything talked out.”

“What does that mean, talked out?”

“She came to my room the day I brought her home.  I was shaving when she came in and—she doesn’t understand, Pa.  I thought I’d made myself clear, and maybe I had for a time.  But tonight, after I’d explained about the Watson’s—oh God.  I thought I’d gotten through to her but—”

“You know she can’t stay here.  You realize that now, don’t you?”

I turned my head slightly when the front door closed and Hoss walked back inside.  He moved slowly before taking his seat at the table.  Pa poured him a fresh cup of coffee then glanced at me.  I covered my cup with my hand.  My stomach was so on edge; I thought it best to stop drinking anything at all.

I tried to justify my night in town and why I had to get away after explaining the situation to Molly.  “She didn’t take it well, Pa.  She doesn’t understand why I’d ever want to send her away, and I thought if she had time to think things through . . .” I glanced at Pa and Hoss, hoping for confirmation, but there was only silence.

“So, I rode into town.  I had a few drinks—okay, I had too much to drink and I had a little problem with one of the miners.  After he gave me this,” I said gently touching the bruise marring my right cheekbone, “he—well, he didn’t hesitate to show me the front door.  I don’t remember much after that.” 

That was the last thing Pa wanted to hear, but I had to make him understand how truly bad off I was and how the unspeakable happened with Molly.

“I know what you’re gonna say, Pa, but it’s God’s truth.  I was dreaming about one of the ladies at the saloon and—and the next thing I knew, I was—and you were standing at the doorway of my room.”

Pa finally broke his silence.  “I just don‘t understand how this could have happened, Joseph.”

“I don’t either, Pa,” I said sharply.  “Don’t you understand?  I didn’t realize it was Molly.” 

“Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin?”  Hoss interrupted.  “I mean about that little gal upstairs?”

I looked across the table at Hoss.  My brother was just now visualizing the entire situation in his mind.  I couldn’t quite figure what he was thinking, but the expression on his face scared me.  He must hate me.  How could anyone be expected to understand what happened or why?

I cupped my head with both hands.  “I made a mistake.  I made a horrible, horrible mistake.”  And when I raised my head, I locked eyes with Hoss just before he turned his watery eyes away.  I turned my attention to Pa.  He, too, averted his eyes.  “Help me, Pa.  I don’t know what to do.”

The room was silent.  My own eyes filled with tears but all had been said.  Everything was out in the open.  Would I have told Pa if he hadn’t walked in?  No.  Definitely not.  I was too ashamed.  I’d done the unthinkable and I would pay for my reckless behavior for the rest of my life.  One way or the other, I’d be punished for my indiscretion.

“I believe the Watson’s are planning to drive up early and check in at the International House sometime today,” Pa said.  “They’re also planning to spend the night rather than heading back to Carson after dinner.  I’ll speak to William, and I’ll inform him Molly’s bags are packed, and she’ll be ready to leave right after supper if they agree she’s the right child for them.  We can‘t possibly have the two of you under the same roof for yet another night.”

Diving back into a bottle of whiskey seemed the best alternative, but dawn was breaking; a new day was beginning.  This would be our final day with Molly, only everything had changed.  Nothing remained the same.  No longer could Molly and I talk or laugh or take rides down by the lake.  No longer could I take her to town for a day of shopping, ending with lemonade at Miss Daisy’s Café.

Molly not only found solace on the Ponderosa, she’d fallen in love with me, a man twice her age—a father figure who cared for her wellbeing, nothing more.  A man who fed and clothed her, who thought he was doing the right thing but in the end, I’d made a mess of everything.

I remembered a time I wasn’t much older than Molly.  Pa had set me straight on a few things back then and maybe this was the same situation.  A young, deaf girl named Annie Croft had the same mindset as Molly.  But, as Pa explained at the time, it wasn’t love; it was gratitude for what I’d given her, for how I’d changed a deaf girl’s life by teaching her hand signals so she could communicate with her father.  I’d done the same for Molly.  I’d changed her life but at what cost?

“Pa, help me, I don’t know what to do.”  I’d said those same words as a boy.  I’d said them again tonight.  Did a son ever grow old enough not to heed his father’s words or take his advice? 

By this time tomorrow, Molly would be gone.  She’d live in a home with a mother and father who would see to her needs, care for her in every way possible and help her mature into a healthy, well-adjusted young woman.  She’ll learn the social graces we couldn’t teach her as a family of men.  She’d meet young boys her own age, and I would become just a memory of her transition into a new life.  I should be grateful.  I should be thankful people like the Watson’s exist.

“Let me be the one,” I said to Pa.  “Let me tell the Watsons.  I brought Molly into our home.  She’s still my responsibility.” 

Pa rubbed his fingers across his forehead.  “That’s probably for the best, Joseph.  Hoss and I’ll stay here with the girl.”  Although Pa’s thoughts varied from mine, he was right.  I needed to distance myself from Molly.  We all looked up when the grandfather clock chimed five times. 

“Think I’ll catch a couple hours sleep in the barn before I go.”

“Think I’ll do the same,” Hoss said, pushing up from his chair.

I wondered if Hoss would really leave without speaking to Pa privately.  Did he understand what took place to cause such a ruckus in the middle of the night?  Would Pa have to paint him a picture?  God, I hoped not although I could almost envision their conversation as I walked out the front door.

I woke to the stench of wet, musty-smelling stalls.  After managing a few fitful hours of sleep in the loft with rain sounding on the barn roof, I looked down to find the buckboard and a matched set of bays already gone.  I hadn’t even heard them leave.  I brushed the straw from my jacket and ran my hand through my hair; I didn’t want to step back inside the house for fear of having to see Molly or Pa or Hoss or whoever hadn’t taken the buckboard.  I was talked out.  There was no more to discuss until I met with Molly later today.  I saddled my horse.  I would talk to William Watson but what should he be told?  Everything?  Nothing?  Could Doc Martin help me decide?

I tied Cooch to the hitchrailand forced my legs to climb the steps to the doc’s front door.  Not only was I completely exhausted, I was still hung-over and feeling every movement with extra intensity.  My cheekbone, where the miner had planted his fist, had settled to a dull ache but without the use of a mirror, I wasn’t aware how bedraggled I really looked.

“Doc,” I called.  “You busy?”

“Morning, Joe.  Seeing how you’re upright rather than prone this time, it can‘t be too serious.”

I actually found something to smile about; I even chuckled at the doc’s remark.  “It’s not what you think, Paul.”

“Well, have a seat, son.  Any excuse to set these papers aside is a welcome relief.  You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I—I’m here for an entirely different reason.”

“It’s not Ben or Hoss, is it?”

“No, everybody’s fine.  It’s just—we’ve had a little trouble at home and I thought maybe you could help.”

Paul pulled out a bottle and two glasses.  “Will this help?”

Again, I found myself smiling.  “Maybe—why not,” I said.  I threw back the shot in one quick motion and held my glass out for another.  “You see, Doc, the problem concerns Molly.  I didn’t mention everything she’d been through when I brought her in for you to examine.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You do?”

Paul sighed.  “You mean the fact that she’s experienced?”

My head shot up.  “You, oh, I guess maybe you would know, wouldn’t you.”

“When you brought her in a few months ago for me to examine, I assumed she would react somewhat differently to my probing, being as young as she was, but that obviously wasn’t the case.”

I nodded but kept silent, letting Paul explain all he knew about my young charge.  The brandy hadn’t worked its magic and nervously, I began twisting my hat in my hands.

“There was some tearing in that general area, Joe, which has now become scar tissue and may or may not cause problems on down the road.  I’m sorry, I can’t be certain.  Now, I can’t really tell when the abuse started, what I mean is I can’t give you Molly’s exact age, nor can I explain exactly what was used besides a man’s penis but, and this is hard for me to say, son, but there have been other items inserted inside the girl.”

“I know.  She told me everything, although I stopped her when she started in on those type things—God, Paul, why would someone do that to a child?”  I became restless.  I stood and walked toward Paul’s office window.  Could I listen to more?  Was there more?

“May I ask you something personal, Joe?”

“Personal?”  My heart constricted.  Did Paul know?  Had the doc read my mind?  “Go on,” I said hesitantly.

“Has the girl come to your bed?  Has she tried to touch you inappropriately for a girl her age?”

When my head swung abruptly over my shoulder, shocked at the boldness of Paul’s question, I saw he’d turned his chair to face me, to see my reaction, and my reaction gave him the answer he expected.  I turned back to the window, staring.  A normal day for most.  People were milling about their business while I tried to keep this horrible secret from leaving Paul’s office.  But could I keep my personal life hidden?  Would people know my shame; would they see it in my eyes?  Would Molly be condemned to a life of hell if the story were told?

“It’s not your fault,” Paul said, offering me another shot.  I shook my head; I’d had enough; the details of my alcoholic binge needn’t be discussed.  But how did Paul see me now?  Did he see me as a man who’d made a terrible mistake or as a man who took advantage of the situation?

“How did you know?” 

“It just goes to reason, Joe.”  Paul stood and turned me from the window to face him head on.  “The girl simply wanted to please you.  You’re her savior.  You rescued her from her grandfather and she’s repaying you the only way she knows how.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No.  It was my fault.  You don’t know everything.”

“Then tell me.”

I turned again, but Paul’s hand was firm on my shoulder.  “I was drunk.  I was too drunk to know what was happening and I let her—God, Paul.”

“Come on,” he said.  “Sit down.  Let me explain what happened.”

I gave into Paul’s demand and took a chair by his desk.

“Let me say my piece before you say anything at all, okay?”

“Go ahead, Doc.”  I propped my elbows on my knees.  I let my eyes study the floor and waited for Paul to speak. 

“I’m only giving you my opinion, Joe, because there is nothing written in medical journals about the effects of sexual activity at an early age.  Molly is a young girl who’s been used for someone else’s pleasure for a very long time.  I assume by her grandfather since he was her only guardian until you took over the role of caretaker.  Am I right?”

“Yeah, you’re right, Doc.”

“You bring the girl to the Ponderosa where she’s fed decently and clothed properly for the first time in her life.  She’s grateful, Joe, and she only has one way of thanking her new benefactor.  She’s trying to please you, to thank you and repay you for everything you’ve done.  Using her body is the only way she knows how.  And, I know this may be difficult to hear, but it’s possible the girl is finding sexual pleasure for the first time in her life.”

“Pleasure?  You can’t be serious.  You don‘t know the whole story, Paul.”

Paul held up his hand.  “Let me finish.”  I slumped back in my chair and let the doctor continue.  “You know as well as I do, Joe, there can be as much pleasure and satisfaction for a woman as there is for a man.”

“She’s just a little girl.”

“You’ve changed that little girl’s life.  You’ve shown her a whole new world and she’s grateful, she’s probably fallen in love with you.  You’re the first man besides, maybe her father, who’s showed any interest in her as a human being.  She only wants to return the favor, and what else did she have at her disposal but her own body?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

“I can’t believe a fifteen-year-old girl would find any pleasure after being forced time and again by that old man.”  I was hot-under-the-collar and at this point, I wasn’t in total control.  “Doc, you’re wrong.”

“Right or wrong doesn’t matter, Son.  What’s done is done.  I know you’d like to turn back the clock, but let’s see if we can’t find a sensible solution rather than beat a dead horse.” 

I wanted to run out the front door.  The discussion with Paul proved frustrating, but maybe some of what he said was true.  Was it possible for a young girl to fall in love?  A crush maybe?  No, puppy love at best.   I dismissed my musings and looked up at Paul.

“We think there’s a solution,” I said.

“Go on.”

“Well, Pa has friends in Carson who might want to adopt Molly.  They’re good people.  He’s a well-to-do businessman and his wife is connected tightly with their church.   Anyway, they’re coming for dinner tonight to meet Molly, and Pa thinks it would be best if her bags were packed and she left with them this evening.”

“Your father has a point.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.  “That, or I’ll be sleeping in the barn from now on.”

Paul smiled.  He tried his best, and I understood he was only trying to be impartial to all parties involved.  Paul was a decent man.  He saw both sides of the coin.  Although he was free with advice, he never judged, and he’d made me feel more at ease.

“See, maybe there’s a silver-lining after all.”

“I haven’t even told you the reason I stopped in.”

“You want to know what all you should tell the prospective couple.  Am I right?”

“What are you, Doc?  A mind reader?”

“Joe, you’re eyes are an open book to your soul.  Not a bad thing, mind you, but I always know when you’re troubled.  Your father does too, more so than I, I’m sure, but there are always signs.  You’re a very passionate young man, always have been, always will be.  You take everything to heart and sometimes the struggle becomes overwhelming.  Like now, like this problem with Molly.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Sometimes.”

“So, what do you think?”

Paul studied my question before answering.  “In my opinion, you should inform these people of at least some of Molly’s background, although I wouldn’t include yourself; I don’t find that necessary.  But, tell them if they have any concerns about any problems that may arise, I’ll do everything I can to help.  I know the Reverend Jamison will also.  I believe there’s a new young doctor in Carson City, and perhaps he’ll be able to advise them should they have questions or concerns.”

I stood from my chair suddenly light-headed and wondered how long it had been since my last meal.  I should have eaten cake with Hoss.  I reached for the doc’s hand.

“Thanks for everything, Paul.”

“One more question, Joe.  Does Molly know about tonight’s dinner?”

I dropped my head.  “Yes, she knows.”

“Well, that explains everything, Son.”

“What?  What do you mean?”

“That’s why the girl came to your bed.  She was trying to influence your decision—to make you change your mind.  The girl was simply begging you to let her stay.”

I nodded my head.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  I just hope we’re doing the right thing.”

“There’ll be an adjustment period, but the couple sound decent enough, and you and I both know she can’t remain living on the Ponderosa.”

“Not unless you want a new border.”  I smiled at Paul.

“Have faith, Joe.  I’m sure you’re doing what’s best for the girl.  Just remember, and I mean this, so listen good.  None of what took place between the two of you is your fault.  Don’t you dare blame yourself.”

“I won’t, Doc.  Thanks for everything.”

I rounded the corner of the barn on Cochise just in time to see Molly climbing into the open-roofed buggy.  Pa hesitated behind her as I approached.  I dismounted.

“What’s up?”  I asked.  “Something wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, Joe.  Hop Sing has fixed us a picnic lunch, and we were just heading out.”

I glanced up at Molly then took hold of Pa’s arm and led him a few feet from the carriage.  Just my presence that close to Molly seemed to irritate my father, but this was still my home even if I was bedding down in the barn.

“Excuse us for a minute, Molly; we’ll be right back.”

“What’s this all about, Joe?”

“I just wanted you to know I’ve talked to Doc and to the Watson’s and we’re all set for tonight.”

“Good.  You did a good job.  Oh, and Joe, just for the record.  I was wrong to assume.  I regret what I said last night but as you can imagine, I was—I’m not sure what I was, to be honest.  I know this isn’t the time and place for apologies but I just wanted you to know—“

“Hey,” I cut in.  “No apology necessary, Pa.  I know what it looked like and everyone concerned was embarrassed but it’s over.  Paul and I had a good talk and maybe I understand the situation better now than I did before.  We’ll talk about this later.  As you said, right now isn’t the time or place.”

Pa gripped my shoulder.  It was another form of apology and I appreciated the gesture.

“Now, would you mind if I took Molly on the picnic instead?  I need to talk to her alone and there’s not much time left.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

I winked at my father.  “You don’t trust me?”

Pa shook his head.  “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“You can’t help yourself, Pa.  It’s in your blood.”

“Go on, but make sure you’re home in time for her to dress for tonight.”

I turned and walked back toward the buggy and Molly.  “Mind if you and I picnic instead?”

“I’d be delighted.”

I glanced at Pa and winked after hearing Molly’s answer.  She’d learned so much.  Simple things mostly and she’d been a quick study.  We all thought she was ready for a real school with friends her own age—a normal upbringing, just a later start than most.

After slapping the reins, we headed back the way I’d just come.  Molly leaned back in the seat, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.  This was her last day with Pa and Hoss and me.  She must be frightened, nervous, and wondering what direction her life would take now.

“I have a favorite spot Hoss and I used to go to when we were kids.  I think you might like it.”

“Is it where you taught me to skip stones?”

“Nope,” I said.  “This is a new spot; one I haven’t taken you to before.”

If I could lift her spirits, if I could pretend today was no different than any other, maybe I could bring up supper with the Watson’s on a more positive note.  I tried to put Paul’s conversation into perspective.  Love.  Molly was in love.  And, although I disagreed with him at the time, a memory from years ago suddenly swept through my mind.

Jenny Barnett.  I was thirteen years old and madly in love with the blue-eyed beauty who sat beside me in Miss Jones’ classroom.  I’d worked for days on my speech.  Adam had coached me, helping me put all the words together so I wouldn’t sound like a scared little kid.  But by the time I’d found the courage to ask Jenny to the end-of-year dance, Billy Carter had already stepped in and asked her himself.  He was a bull, outweighing me by at least twenty pounds and six inches in height, and Jenny had opted to have Billy serve as her escort rather than a puny, little kid like me.

“He asked me first, Little Joe, and besides, he’s older’n you and he already knows how to dance.”

“Don’t mean I can’t learn by Saturday night,” I said, refusing to let her go that easily.

“Maybe next time.  I’m with Billy now.”

Not only did her words sting my young heart; it was the way she looked at me, pitied me.  I was too young and too scrawny for the likes of Jenny.  I was a head shorter than Billy Carter, I wasn’t an experienced dancer, and he asked her first.  Three strikes you’re out.  I moped around the house for days, and even as Pa and my brothers tried to cheer me up, I knew my life was over.  I was in love, and I’d been cast aside like a pair of worn boots.  I was unworthy of Jenny’s love and attention.

I remember the pain, the all-consuming grief of losing my first love to another man.  It was heartbreaking, maybe even more hurtful because of my age.  Tears had been followed by mood swings.  Seeing Jenny at school only made things worse.  I would have done anything to make her love me as much as I loved her.

Now, with the roles reversed, how different were Molly’s feeling toward me?  How could I have been so blind?  It took an outsider like Paul Martin to set me straight; to reveal the obvious truths I’d missed along the way.

I steered the buggy to the overlook where Hoss and I used to come as kids.  We’d called it our happy place.  Though I don’t remember when or why we chose the name, it was the one spot I came to when I needed time alone or to sort things out.  And, as memory serves, Hoss brought me here to fish and camp in lieu of that Saturday Night dance when I was young and brokenhearted. 

I quickly prayed for the right words to say.  This was my last chance and I didn’t want to mess things up.  In a few hours time, Molly would be gone from our lives so whatever I said, she’d carry with her forever.

But I wasn’t like Adam or Pa.  I wasn’t good with words.  Even Hoss, in his roundabout way, could get his point across by smoothing out the rough edges so, before you could interrupt or pull him off course, the problem suddenly vanished into thin air.  I pulled the buggy to a stop.

“I’m proud of you, Molly,” I said.  “You’ve come so far in such a short period of time.”

“Are you, Joe?  Are you really?”

“You bet I am and I know you can’t visualize the future right now but in time, you’ll see leaving the Ponderosa is the best thing Pa and Hoss and I could do for you.”  Molly tried to speak but I held up my hand.  “Let me finish, all right?”

She nodded and turned her head to look forward rather than at me.  I was breaking her heart, just like Jenny broke mine so long ago, but I had to continue.

“Everyone is scared at some point in their life, and I’m sure that’s how you feel, but” –I wanted to take her hand although I refrained from touching her in any way— “It’s time for you to make a new start.  School,” I said, “will open a whole new world for you, Molly.  You’ll meet friends your own age and you won’t be stuck hanging around a bunch of old people like me and Pa and Hoss.”

“But what if those kids don’t like me?”

“What’s not to like?”  I turned slightly on the seat.  “You’re going to have so much fun and meet so many new people.”

“Why do I have to go to school?  Why can’t you and your pa keep teaching me instead.  ‘Sides, I know all I need to know.”

“Because, Molly.  School isn’t only about reading and learning your numbers.  You’ll have a chance to meet kids your own age and have friends to do things with.”

“What kinda things?”

“You know, girl stuff.”

“What’s girl stuff, Joe?”

“Well, things like getting all dolled-up in your best party dress for a Saturday night dance, or maybe going with a handsome young boy to a church social.  You and your girlfriends might go shopping or have tea and cake on a Saturday afternoon.  That’s girl stuff.” 

“Why can’t I go to the dances with you?  I don‘t want to dance with no one else.”

“Anyone,” I corrected without thinking and hated myself for sounding exactly like my elder brother when I was his age.

“With anyone else,” she said, accustomed to the corrections.  She looked my way; tears formed in her eyes.  “It don’t matter what I say.  You’re still gonna send me to live with those people, aren’t you?”

“Yes.  I have to, Molly.”

My own eyes began to well, but I couldn’t fall apart now.  Molly was frightened; she had good reason.  The Ponderosa had been a safe haven for months, and switching gears would bring anxiety to anyone who’d been through as much as she had.  She’d felt relaxed in our home and we’d asked nothing in return.

“I know you’re scared and if I were in your shoes, I’d be scared too.”  I reached for Molly’s hands in spite of right or wrong.  “Believe me—if there was any other way.”

“But there is, Joe.”  Tears tracked her cheeks.  “Don’t make me go.  Please don’t send me away.”

Molly wasn’t just my ward, she’d become like a daughter.  I cared for her as though she was my own flesh and blood and now, two hearts were breaking.  Tomorrow the strings would be severed, and I wondered if this was how Pa felt when Adam left the ranch.  I’m sure it was though I never paid attention.  I was too busy wishing him well.  “Have a good trip, brother.”  Knowing he’d be home within a year’s time, I never read the signs.  I never knew he was leaving us forever.  So, we all clapped my brother on the back, we said our goodbyes, and he climbed onto the stage to explore a world far from the Ponderosa. 

But not until this very minute did I realize now how Pa’s heart must have been breaking.  Why didn’t I realize that back then?  I too busy getting on with my own life to see the hurt in my father’s eyes, but Pa knew all along.  He knew his son was leaving forever.  It wasn’t just an adventure at all.  It was a lifetime of change.

From the day I’d seen Molly standing beside the old cabin with her fingers pinching her bottom lip, until this very minute, this final conversation where I was breaking her heart every time I spoke, she’d made me laugh and cry and everything in-between.  Her pleading eyes nearly broke my resolve.  If I could only keep her safe on the Ponderosa forever, I would, but I had to remain strong; I had to keep perspective.

We remained seated in the buggy; the picnic lunch all but forgotten.  Acting as any concerned father might when his child was hurting, I tried to justify, using simple words and keeping my voice calm but on track.  Thinking back on the discussion I’d had with Pa years ago over Annie Croft, I needed to make Molly understand the difference between love and gratitude.

“Molly, Mr. and Mrs. Watson are fine people.  They have a fine home and they told me just this morning how excited they’ve become over having a daughter of their own.”

“But they don’t even know me, Joe.”

“Just hold on.  Let me finish.”  I hesitated, waiting for Molly’s complete attention before I continued.  “The Watson’s couldn’t have children of their own, and they were so excited when Pa told them about you.  After I talked to them earlier this morning, they said they’d like you to come home with them after dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?”

My throat tightened, and my words came out just above a whisper.  “Yes.  Tonight.”

“Please don’t send me away, Joe, please.” 

“Molly, there’s no other way.  You can’t stay on the Ponderosa with three grown men.  It’s just not right.”

“I’ll be good.  I’ll do anything you say.  Please don’t make me go.”  The walls caved in.  Tears streamed down Molly’s face in a desperate attempt to make me change my mind.

“Listen to me,” I said, after placing my hands on her shoulders.  I won’t be far away.  I make trips to Carson all the time.  I wouldn’t even consider not riding down and checking up on my best girl.  Hey, maybe I can talk the Watson’s into letting me stop in for weekly visits until you’re settled in.  Would that help?”

“But I won’t get to do nothing with you, Joe.  We won’t go riding fence or catching strays no … anymore,” she corrected between gentle sobs.

“Chasing strays isn’t a proper job for young ladies, Molly.”

“Joe … please … ”

My speech hadn’t gone well, and I was on the verge of giving in, of letting Molly stay, but there was no way, not after last night.  Plans had been set into motion.  Molly would leave the Ponderosa tonight.  I’d only made things worse; I’d accomplished nothing by trading places with Pa.  Maybe he would have gotten through to her where I failed.

“I’m sorry, Molly.  It‘s just the way things have to be.” 

Each of us sported suits and ties while Molly glowed like an angel, clothed in her Sunday best, when William and Martha presented themselves at the front door.  Molly tried to hide behind me; fear of the unknown was apparent in her eyes.  I winked and took her hand in mine, guiding her to stand alongside me. 

Molly wasn’t the only one frightened by the events taking place.  I would never admit this to her, but I didn’t know the Watson’s very well at all.  Pa met several times with Mr. Watson, studying contracts and such, but what did my father really know about the man’s home life.  Maybe he was some sort of tyrant who would make Molly’s life miserable.  Or, maybe Martha Watson had some strange biblical perception of how to raise a young girl that was out of line with my own way of thinking.  I took a deep breath and cleared all thoughts from my mind.

We all shook hands and greeted our guests before Molly was formally introduced.  Martha’s eyes gleamed with approval as she quickly crossed the room, leaving her husband behind, and came to stand face-to-face in front of Molly.  She reached for the young girl’s hands and gave a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m so glad to meet you, Molly.” 

Molly studied the woman carefully, and as I’d coached her prior to their meeting, she responded accordingly.  “My pleasure, ma’am.”

Pa welcomed our guests with a small glass of brandy and without further delay; everyone took a seat around the large dining room table.  Hop Sing was in his glory as he carried out a platter of his famous pork roast and sweet potatoes.  Hoss, forgetting temporarily there were guests at the table, rubbed the palms of his hands together in anticipation which, in a matter of seconds, brought a round of laughter and brought a brilliant shade of red to Hoss’ chubby, round face. 

“I promise not to talk business,” Pa said, lifting his glass of wine.  “Tonight, we are gathered for a very special occasion.”  He turned to Molly and smiled.  “To this stunning young lady, who’s brought sunshine and happiness to our lives.  May this new, exciting adventure bring happiness and all the joy she deserves.” 

“Hear, hear,” said William, lifting his own glass.

“Hear, hear,” replied Hoss.

Mrs. Watson was beside herself with joy.  She asked one question after another, and Molly answered as politely as she could.  I sat next to my young charge, and she wasn’t about to disappoint.  Although I remained silent, letting Molly and Martha converse back and forth, I felt pain and sadness over having to let my little girl go.

“And as soon as we get you home,” Martha said, “you and I will go shopping, and we’ll decorate your room befitting a young lady.  Would you like that, Molly?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Even though Molly’s answers were simple, I was proud of her, knowing how desperately she wanted to stay on the Ponderosa.  We had done everything possible to create a new version of Molly, a girl who was gracious and presentable, who would lead a new life with a new mother and father and, in time, I hoped they would all grow to love each other as much as we had over the last few months.

In Molly’s honor, Hop Sing concocted a flaming dessert, one she’d never forget.  He had grown quite fond of her while she’d lived with his American family.  After the flaming peach concoction was finished, Pa asked Molly to step outside with him. 

“We’ll only be a minute,” Pa said to our guests as he lifted her hand, and they walked toward the front door.

I glanced their way as they headed outside and wondered what Pa wanted to say.  But, as soon as William heard the front door close, he dropped his napkin on his plate and turned his attention to me.

“May I have a word, Joseph?”

“Of course.” 

We carried our glasses of wine with us as we walked toward Pa’s den for privacy.  I almost felt sorry for Martha, having been left out of this private conversation, but I was curious as to what Watson might say that he couldn’t have said in front of everyone else.

~~

Ben guided Molly along the front porch to two chairs and a woodentable where she had busied herself with her studies during the warmer months.  When he was sure he had her attention, he had a few words to say before she left with her new family. 

“I hope you’ll give this new arrangement a chance,” Ben started, smiling sincerely before he continued.  “I want you to make us all proud, especially Joe.  You know he’s very worried about you settling in with your new family.”

Molly dipped her head, but she knew Mr. Cartwright was trying to make a point, and she’d be smart to remain quiet and hear him out. 

“We all want you to be happy in your new home, and I think you will be if you give your new parents half a chance.”

Molly didn’t speak; she couldn’t.  She could barely even swallow for the heavy lump in her throat. 

“If for no other reason, do this for Joe.” 

~~

Everyone put on a happy face.  As soon as Molly’s trunk, filled with an assortment of dresses and bonnets and everything else I’d bought her over the last few months, was loaded onto the back of the buggy, it was time for our final goodbyes.

Hoss leaned in and kissed Molly on the cheek.  “We’ll miss you, Sweetheart.”

Pa followed Hoss.  “You take care of yourself and enjoy this new experience with your new mother and father.” 

When it was my turn, I knew what was expected but to hell with being proper.  I pulled Molly to my chest and gently stroked her hair.  I felt her tremble and, realizing all eyes were on me; I pulled back and bent down on one knee.  “If you ever need anything, if you ever—” I couldn’t say the words I had planned all day to say.  I couldn’t even tell her how much I cared about her or how I would miss her.  Knowing full well, she and everyone standing in the yard might misconstrue my words as more than just affection for a child I deeply cared for, I said nothing more.  “Take care, Princess.”

I stood and helped Molly, and then Martha, into the buggy.  I remembered the promise I’d made about visiting often until I glanced at William Watson and reflected on what the man had said when we stood alone in my father’s den.

“After what you told me this morning about Molly’s unsavory past, I think it best you and your family keep your distance from our new daughter.  Anyone can see how the girl has taken to you especially.  It seems to me she’s more attached to you than she should be, and,” he whispered, “I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

I stepped toward Pa as the buggy pulled away.  Molly turned around to wave and William clearly put a halt to her movements.  Pa reacted quickly when my body stiffened and anger flared.  Grabbing hold of my arm, he steadied me in place. 

“It’s just his way, Joseph.  Molly will be fine.”

“I hope you’re right, Pa.  I truly hope you’re right.”

The End

Next and last story in the series: – Molly #2