Claire

Chapter One

They didn’t understand what was happening.  But how could he explain that the life he’d been happily living dried like dust under the brilliance of the one he now remembered?

To him, it was only yesterday when he’d held Claire in his arms and kissed her goodbye, and the truth churned a panic in his gut that had him fighting the urge to vomit.  Fast as things got stuffed into his saddle bag, Pa’s questions kept coming.  But he’d no room for any thought other than finding her.

“Joseph!”

An iron grip closed around his wrist.  Their eyes met.  They’d be no going before Pa got his answers.  Pushing down his impatience, he took a breath.

“I remember.”

“Remember, what?  Joe, you’re not making any sense.  Now slow down and tell me what’s going on?”

Standing behind Pa, Hoss backed him up.  Of course, he would.  He had to tell them something. 

“I remember what happened.  Seven years ago.” 

Surprise and shock settled on their faces.  He’d seen it before.  That day when he’d come riding back.  He still woke in a cold sweat from the fear of wondering where he’d been — a whole year missing from his life.  The only clues had been the strange clothes he’d been wearing and the horse he’d been riding, and they’d been no help.  All he’d had was an empty void until today.

“You remember?”

“I remember everything.”

“So, where were you?  Why didn’t you come home?”

“I couldn’t!  I didn’t remember who I was.”

“What?”

“It was the same as when I came home.  Only that time I forgot everything.  My name, where I was from, what I was doing there.  And everything I owned was gone.”

“But now you remember?”

“Yes.”

“So, what happened?”

“I got bushwhacked and left for dead.”

“I don’t understand.  We searched everywhere around O’Hara’s.”

“I wasn’t near his place.  I’d heard about another breeder a few days’ ride away.  I decided the detour would be worth it.  The telegraph was down.  No big deal.  I thought I’d send the message to let you know my decision at the next town, and I cut through the mountains.  Guess that was a mistake.”  The shirt in his hands tightened into a ball.  “You don’t know how many weeks I spent riding the area where they found me.  Trying to figure out who I was.  Finally, all I could do was hope that if someone missed me, they’d find me.”

Pa and Hoss exchanged stricken looks.  “Joe—“

It had been a hard time for his family, especially Pa, who blamed himself for letting Joe go on the trip alone.  It had taken all his persuasion, but with Adam laid up with a bad chest, Hoss not yet returned from San Francisco, and Pa in the middle of contract negotiations, he’d won him around.  He wasn’t about to make him feel bad now.

“I’m not complaining.  I know what you all did to find me.  It wasn’t your fault I took that stupid detour.  But I got a job and got on with living.  And then there was…”  Joe trailed off.  Unable to say her name.  Once he did, it would all be real.

“What?”

“Claire.  I left her, Pa.  I left her all alone, and I’ve gotta find her.”

Hoss shook his head.  “Joe, I hate to say it, but any gal would’ve found herself another fella by now.”

“No.  She wouldn’t.  She isn’t any girl.  She’s my wife.” 

Pa’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair.  “You’re married?”

“Three months, and I abandoned her.”

“You didn’t abandon her.”

That was easy for Pa to say.  What else could he call it?  Knowing he didn’t do it on purpose didn’t lessen the guilt that coursed through him, shriveling his heart. 

“I did worse than that.  I forgot about her.”

“Joe, that whole year’s been a mystery to everyone.  Come downstairs.  You’re still shaken from the spill you took.  Have a brandy.  Let’s make sure you’re all right.  Then, tell us about it.”

Joe shook him off.  “I’ve told you all there is.  There’s no time.  I hav’ta find her.  She’s been all alone for too long.”

“Surely, her own family—”

“She doesn’t have any.  Her folks are dead.  I’m her family.  All she has—” Joe’s voice cracked on the words. Biting his lip, he closed his eyes.  Her face filled his mind with crystal clarity.  The first one he’d seen when he’d regained consciousness in Doc Wilson’s office.  “You should’ve seen her.  Beautiful as a spring day.  We were married soon as I made top hand at the ranch where I’d got work.”  The smile slipped from his face as the thought returned to accuse him.  “How could I remember everything else and forget her?”

“Son.  Seven years is a long time.”

“Not to me.  To me, it was yesterday.  Don’t you see?  I need to find her.”

“All right, but why not leave tomorrow?”  Joe battled his frustration and the urge to yell.  The need burning through his veins, making any delay unbearable, wasn’t Pa’s fault.  He shook his head and had to endure the look of disappointment.  “All right.  I understand.”

Joe caught the glance Pa sent to Hoss, who got the message.  “I’ll go saddle your horse.” 

Two grateful smiles followed Hoss as he left.  His father stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder.  “If you need anything.”

Joe stopped his packing to give his father his attention.  Pa had always been there, and he owed him something.  “If there is, I’ll let you know.”

Striding out the front door, Joe pulled up short, seeing two horses saddled and waiting.  Hoss followed him out, saddlebags over his shoulder.  Walking to Chubb, he looked back.  “You coming?”

He might’ve known.  Joe’s chest rose and fell, but having his brother at his side overcame any resistance to this blatant move.  Taking Pa’s hand, he said his goodbyes, and the two rode out.

***

The sparks jumped and flew out, showering Hoss.  “Dadburnit.  Be careful,” he grumbled and brushed them away.

Joe ignored his words.  He wasn’t in the mood to be careful.  Another stick snapped between his strong fingers, and the pieces followed the others onto the blaze.  Springing upright, Joe marched away from the fire and back again.

“I don’t get it.  All these years, I didn’t remember a thing.  And then, from nowhere, it all comes back to me.  Why?  Why did it take so long?  One silly fall, and it’s all back?  I’ve been thrown hundreds of times.  Why this fall?  Why not one a year ago or five years—”

“Aww, Joe.  Fact is, it didn’t.  Beating yourself up over that won’t do you or anyone any good.”

Joe turned his back and walked away.  Seven years.  The number scared him in a way facing a stampede never could.  Hoss’s solid presence joined him at his side.

“So long.  I forgot her for so long.”

The arm that encircled him was his undoing.  Ducking his head, he brushed away the tears. 

Hoss squeezed him tighter.  “It’ll be all right.”

How could his brother know that?  He had no idea, but it was still good to hear.

***

Joe opened his eyes, blinked, and let his vision clear before he checked out the room.  That’s when he’d seen her again.  The small figure tucked into the chair by the window, head bent, and attention fixed on her task.  He lay still, not wanting to disturb the young woman and lose the moment.  The afternoon sun shimmered with an iridescence over cheeks and lips the color of roses and lit her long lashes so they almost sparkled.  He took the time to take the beauty in.  Her slender form, the cascades of curls held back with a blue ribbon to match her dress.  The perfect symmetry of her face.  Who this angel was, he didn’t care.  Well, he did, but he’d attend to that later.  It wasn’t every day you woke up to a pretty girl in your room.  For now, he was content to enjoy the view.  Her brows and nose wrinkled from concentration when she got to a tricky part of her sewing.  A soft chuckle escaped him, giving himself away.  Those large, brown eyes lifted to meet his.

The noise brought Joe fully awake.  He pushed up his hat and glanced at his snoring brother before looking to the heavens.  The memory of Claire was so strong he could feel her.  Turning his head to find that empty space next to him sent a crack through his heart.

Acrid smoke hit the back of his throat, and he tossed wood onto the dying fire.  Lying back, he shifted his position, trying to get comfortable again.  On the horizon, the softening of the night told him the dawn wasn’t far away.  He welcomed the sight since each new day brought him closer to her.  In two days, they’d reach Peeks Place.  Doc Wilson had been a permanent fixture in the town, but would she still be there?  The unknown still terrified him, but the longing to see Claire again was stronger than any fear.  He couldn’t wait.

***

Hoss glanced at his brother’s drawn profile.  He looked terrible, all thanks to that dadblamed doctor.  His blood boiled at the way the man hadn’t seemed to care that everything he’d said just about broke Joe into little pieces.  When he’d tried to intervene and stop the relentless onslaught, Joe had let him know to stay out of it.  It burned his insides to do it, but he’d taken that step back and let him handle the man. 

Stubborn and with a will stronger than most men, his brother could withstand a lot.  But everything had changed.  Hoss had no idea what Joe was going to do or how this would end.

***

Chapter Two

The house was like so many.  Whiteboard, with four windows and a porch, surrounded by a pretty, neat garden and picket fence.  An ordinary house where someone far from ordinary lived.

The somersault his stomach gave when he placed a hand on the gate made him pause. Boots crunched over the path to the door.  The pristine paint gleamed at him, and on the right, a little bench was adorned with colorful pillows that reflected the care and time spent on them.  To the left, Virgin’s Bower grew out of a large blue tub, the air heady with the scent of the small white flowers that dripped from its vines. 

Hat in hand, Joe took a huge breath and knocked.   Movement from inside sent his heart racing.  Confident in giving a welcome to any visitor, the door flung wide.

There she stood.  His Claire.  He drank in every detail of the face he’d known so well.  The delicate laugh lines added to the corners of her eyes reminded him of the time he’d missed.  But his fingers still longed to stroke the soft sheen of her skin and run through that shining auburn hair, and the intensity of those glorious brown eyes drew him in as always.

The welcoming smile on her face froze.  She stepped back when the shock descended, and he followed, letting the door close behind him. 

“Hello, Claire.”

In one sweeping, glorious movement, she grabbed hold and held him tight.  Her fingers dug deep into his back as if she’d never let go.  “You’re alive!  Oh, God.  You’re alive.”

The rush of joy took his breath away.  He cupped her face and planted a kiss over every inch, tasting her salty tears.  Gurgling laughter filled the air, making him dizzy with happiness.  But it was too fleeting a moment, and the years crashed down to split them apart. 

She stiffened, pushed Joe away, and asked the question he’d been dreading, “Where’ve you been all this time?”

“It’s a long story.”

She bit her lip.  The implications of his standing there hitting home. 

“How did you find me?”

“Doc Wilson.”

The doctor had let Joe know much more than where Claire was living.  The truths he’d told and his disapproval of Joe’s abandonment clung like a bad smell.  If his explanation was hard for Doc Wilson to accept, how would she feel? 

“You’d better stay for coffee.”

The scent of cut flowers arranged with carefree abandon filled the bright, cozy parlor.  The table the vase stood on gleamed deep orange and yellow from polish.  The room reflected love and pressed in on Joe like a dead weight.  Perched on its edge, the wood of the settee cut into the back of his thighs.  They were man and wife, yet he was as nervous as the first time he’d asked her out. 

The aroma of chicory announced her return.  The sweet, earthy, floral scent took him back to their little cabin.  Curled in front of the fire, they would laugh and talk, making plans for their future.  Dreams they never got to fulfill.

Claire set the coffee pot down and went to the seat opposite.  Pulling himself together, he accepted the cup and saucer she handed him.  He picked it up by the top since the dainty handle seemed too fragile to touch.  The little yellow flowers that dotted the side were just like her.  Delicate and restrained.  The calm taste of hazelnut still surprised him. 

He took a good look at her now.  She had become a woman, but he glimpsed the girl when she pushed back a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear.  He set the delicate cup back in its saucer and placed it on the low table between them.  His palms traveled up the rough material of his pants leg, wiping away the layer of sweat.

“I need to explain.”

“That would be nice.” 

There was no missing the edge to her tone.  But she had a right to be angry.  The pressure of his future lay heavy on him, but what could he do other than tell the truth?  He fixed her with a steady look and began.

Claire stared down into the cup she’d not taken a single sip from.  “So, you didn’t remember anything?”

“That’s right.  I woke up, and we were gone.  For me, it was the day before I got bushwhacked.  I remembered taking the stage to the breeder, buying the mares, and riding home.  Nothing else.  I had no idea where the mares were, whose clothes I was wearing, and horse I was riding.  I didn’t even know that a year had passed.”

“I see.”

“I know how it sounds.  But I promise.  I didn’t abandon you.  I took a fall from a green-broke horse two weeks ago, and it all came back.  Like it was yesterday.  I left home right away to find you.”

“Why, Dan – sorry, Joe?” 

He caught his breath, hearing the name she’d chosen for him again.  It felt comfortable, unlike her question.

“Why?  Because I love you.”

“Seven years.  Things change.”

Joe reached down and picked up the doll under the settee at his feet.  The porcelain face under the thumb he ran over one painted cheek was smooth and cold.  The large pink bow tied and retied a thousand times by its owner gave away how much it was adored, the perfect plaything for a six-year-old. 

“I know.  The doc told me.”  He gazed at the woman across from him.  The love of his life.  “What’s her name?”

“Emma.”

“After your mother.”  Clare’s cup clattered back to the table when her hands started to shake.  Joe crossed the space between them to drop to one knee.  He longed to hold her in his arms but held back.  “I’m sorry.  I never meant to leave you alone.  I know how hard it must’ve been—”

“Do you?  Do you know what it’s like to be thrown out of your home because your husband wasn’t around to pay the rent?  To rely on the charity of others to put food in your baby’s mouth?  Do you know the loneliness of telling yourself night after night that your husband hasn’t deserted you?”

“God.  I’m so sorry.”

The call from the child for his mama took Clare to her feet.  “Excuse me.”

Wiping a hand over his mouth, Joe returned to his seat and tried to steady his breathing.

She returned carrying the boy.  His flushed face, just woken from sleep, pressed into her neck.

“How old is he?”

“Almost two.”

“He’s handsome.”

“Why did you come?  Didn’t Dr. Wilson tell you—”

“Yes.  He told me.  It doesn’t matter.  I love you, Claire.  We can be together again.  Make up for lost time.”

“I’m married.”

“That’s okay.  I understand.  But now’s our chance to be a family.  You, me, and Emma.  Even the boy.”

Her hand moved to cover the boy’s head.  “He’s not yours.  He’s my husband’s.”

“And he can see him anytime.  I won’t mind.  I’ll treat him as my own.  I promise you.  All that matters is we’ll be together.”

Joe kept talking even though the expression in her eyes hurt.  His heart pounded like a bell struck with a sledgehammer, tuneless and out of rhythm.  But she had to understand how he needed her.  When the front door opened, he didn’t miss the relief that crossed her face.

“We’re home!”

Joe stood, ready to face the usurper.  Instead, the child by the man’s side drew all his attention.  The mop of curly brown hair bounced as she laughed and poured out her exciting news. 

“Ma!  I got all my ciphers correct.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Joe’s lip curled when the man’s hand dropped to pat the little girl’s head.  “That’s my girl.  You’ll be good enough to work in the bank in no time.”

Revived by the excitement, the little boy joined in, and the air filled with the jumble of confusing chatter.  Glancing back at Joe, Claire placed her son down next to Emma.

“Take your brother to the kitchen. You can both have some milk and a cookie.  As a reward.”

“Thanks, Ma.” 

The pair scuttled off, and George spotted Joe.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t realize we had company.”

“George, this is Joe Cartwright.”

George Dryer looked every inch of what he was, with his neat brown wool suit, somber waistcoat, narrow ribbon tie, and Derby hat, which he’d removed and hung on the hook.  From the Doc, Joe had found out Claire married George when he’d got the job as manager of the bank here in Eden.  He’d expected a man his age, but the one before him was probably ten years older.

“Cartwright?  One of the Nevada Cartwright’s that own that big spread?”

“That’s right.”

He held out his hand.  Joe took a fraction too long to take it.  A puzzled look descended on the man’s face, which crossed into suspicion.  “You pass this way often?”

One corner of Joe’s mouth curved, “About every seven years.”

George stiffened.  “Claire?”

Joe reached for his hat.  “I’d better go.” 

Claire nodded.  “I’ll see you out.”

At the door, he turned back.  “I’m not walking away.  Not from my daughter and not from you.  Never again.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer.

***

Chapter Three

Hoss straightened in the chair when he spotted Joe and pursed his lips at the expression on his brother’s face.  It seemed like things had gone pretty much as expected.  Leaving the porch, he trod down the hotel’s steps and met him in the street.  “Ready to grab some grub?”

Hoss thanked the waitress and glanced across at his brother.  Not a word had been said while they waited for their food.  Joe gazed out the window into the distance, his mind anywhere but in this café.  When he made no move to pick up his knife and fork, Hoss asked.  “Ain’t you gonna eat?”

Joe looked down at the plate, surprised to see it there.  “No.”

“You’ve gotta eat.”

Joe threw down his napkin. “I’ve gotta find me a lawyer.”

Hoss tossed two dollars on the table and followed his brother, who’d barreled out the door. 

“What’s going on?  What d’you need a lawyer for?”

Joe cut him a look filled with something Hoss didn’t like one bit.  “I have a question to ask.”

***

“The law is clear, Mr. Cartwright.  The original marriage is still legal and binding if the wife didn’t declare her first husband dead and remarried before the six-year mark had been reached.  Any subsequent marriage would have no legal standing.  ”

“It could be annulled?”

“Correct.”

“And any children?”

“I don’t understand.”

Joe shifted in his seat and stated with care, “What if there were children from the marriages?”

“Oh.  I see.  Naturally, the rights to the children from the first marriage remain with their father.  If there were children from the second marriage, they would be declared illegitimate and have no rights or standing in law.”

Hoss hovered by the door while his brother handed over the lawyer’s fee and thanked the man.  Nothing about this made him feel comfortable. 

“What was that all about?” he asked as soon as they hit the boardwalk.

In reply, Hoss received a light slap on the chest.  “Now I can eat.”

Joe sawed his fresh steak with enthusiasm, and Hoss’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t see how anything that lawyer said changes how she’s married to that other fella.”

“That’s just it.  She’s not.  Doc Wilson told me they were married in sixty-five.  That’s only five years after I left.”

“You ain’t planning on using that information?”

“Why not?  It’s a place to start.”

Hoss closed his mouth on the argument he was about to make.  Ever since Joe tumbled off that horse, a fire of determination blazed inside him hotter than any he’d ever seen.  Night after night, around the campfire, Joe had talked about Claire.  How she’d worked for the doctor in that town he’d wound up in.  

“She was special.  I knew from the moment I saw her, but me?  I was just another patient to care for, feed, and clean up after.  Worse than that, I was a man with no money or memory.  They could tell by my clothes that I wasn’t just a saddle tramp drifting through.  But a man with no past?  That was a heck of a disadvantage.  I had to wear that girl down for weeks before she agreed to let me court her.”

Younger Brother had been in love before, but when he talked about Claire, he lit up like a Roman candle.  Did he have the right to tell him to walk away from the woman who put that light there?  Could he do the same if he were in Joe’s shoes?  Maybe not, and Hoss swallowed his advice, but the bad feeling growing inside him wasn’t less persistent.

“You gonna eat that?” 

This time, Hoss looked down at his untouched steak.  “I ain’t hungry.”

“You sickening for something?”  It was an old line, and it didn’t prevent him from giving Joe a look of concern.  His brother set down his fork.  “Look.  Don’t worry.  I’m not going to do anything stupid.  I know this is a tricky situation.  But whatever happens with Claire, that little girl over there is my daughter.”

“I know.  I just think you need to tread careful, is all.”

“Light as a feather, brother.”

Joe’s words failed to lift the gloom that shrouded Hoss.  When they left the café, he thumbed over his shoulder.

“I think I’ll check the horses.  Chubb was favoring his leg earlier.  I wanna put on a poultice, just in case.”

Joe pulled a face, and the pair parted.  Hoss waited for his brother to enter the hotel before crossing to the telegraph office.  He promised Pa he’d keep him informed about where they were, and what Joe didn’t know wouldn’t bother him.

***

Chapter Four

Joe opened the door in answer to the knock.  “You forget your—?” His hand tightened around the handle. 

“May I come in?”

Fighting down the desire to slam the door in George’s face, Joe stepped back into the living room of their hotel suite.  “Sure.”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“She told you?”

“Of course.  Claire and I have no secrets.”

Like poison, his simple words withered Joe’s hope.

“What do you want?”

“I think the question is, what do you want?”

Joe’s hand dropped, and his visitor’s gaze followed his fingers as they brushed the cool ivory of his colt’s butt.  He knew what he looked like to this banker with his holster slung low on his hips.  Joe wasn’t the kind of man who intimidated people, but when George’s eyelids flickered, a chill of delight quivered through him.  Shame followed to kick him in the ribs.  He tightened his shoulders, crossed his arms, and walked to the window. 

Cutting a look back at George, he said,  “Ever since Doc Wilson told me about you.  I wondered what kind of man you were.”

“Just an ordinary one.”

“An ordinary man doesn’t make a habit of marrying other men’s wives.”

“And a decent man doesn’t abandon them.”  Joe snapped around, and George’s hands came up in a placating move.  “Look.  It’s true.  We didn’t know for sure you were dead.  But we did everything we could to find you.  This is the very situation I wished to avoid.  I put out notices in the newspapers and wrote letters to sheriffs.  I even hired a Pinkerton detective.  He found no trace of you.  But obviously, we were looking for the wrong man.”

The sarcasm smacked Joe in the face.  Was the son of a bitch calling him a liar?  “Wrong man or not.  I’m still alive, and Claire is still my wife.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She never divorced me or declared me dead.”  George reeled at the words Joe spat at him.  Glad to have him on the back foot, he moved in for the kill.  “I’m a Cartwright.  I can hire the best lawyer in the county.  Hell, the state.  I’ll get your marriage annulled before you can blink.”

“Why?  Why destroy our lives?”

“It isn’t your life.  It’s mine!  They’re my wife and daughter.”

“No!  I’ve known that little girl since she was three years old.  I loved her from the moment I met her, just like her mother.  I held her when she had nightmares.  Wiped her nose when she was sick.  Helped with her schoolwork.  Put her on her first pony.  It’s me that’s been her father.  Not you.”

“I never got the chance!”

“Too bad!  I don’t care how rich you Cartwrights are.  I’ll fight you for them.  I’ll fight you with everything I have.  Until my last breath.  But I’ll fight you.”

“You can try.”

The door opened, and Hoss stopped short.  He caught on quick.  Thumbs stuck into his gun belt, he drew himself up and fixed George with a look.  “Can I help you, Mister?”

“Tell you brother to keep away from my wife!”

“I reckon he minds his own business.”

“I meant what I said.”  With that parting sentence, George stalked out.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Leave it.  How’s Chubb?”

“Huh?”

“His leg?”

Hoss pulled up his belt.  “Oh, yeah.  He’s fine.  I decided not to bother with the poultice.”

Joe grunted and turned to the window.  Down in the street, George crossed and headed back towards his home.  The banker walked with brisk purpose, only stopping to return a greeting.  Popular fella.  He got stopped a lot.

“I need a drink.”

Joe didn’t wait to see if Hoss followed. 

***

Chapter Five

Hoss let the liquor swirl around his mouth, savoring the notes of vanilla and caramel.  Besides ordering the bottle, Joe had remained silent.  He’d slugged down two glassfuls and now stared into the other.

Taking another sip, Hoss raised his eyebrows.  The bourbon was good.  It suited the saloon.  Fancier than any of the establishments in Virginia City, this one impressed him.  A long, burnished mahogany bar fronted a vast array of sparkling mirrors edged with intricate designs.  Lined in front were stacks of glasses.  Across the top, a massive pair of brass longhorns polished to a rich gold drew the eye.  Behind the bar, three bartenders in neat waistcoats ran to fill the glasses of the throng of customers.  

They’d had to push past the tables filled with men drinking and playing cards to get to theirs, tucked into the corner.  Lively faro, blackjack, and hazard games were in play along the back wall.  Above them, a cloud of smoke swirled, mixing with the sound of the tinkling piano played by another man in the same neat waistcoat.  When they’d arrived, one of the girls made a beeline for them, but catching the expression on Joe’s face, she peeled away.  She knew how to read a situation.

Hoss finished his glass and poured another.  It really was good whiskey.

“You gonna tell me?”

“What?”

“What went on between you two.”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve already fed me that line.”

Joe pushed one finger in a line across the tabletop.  “He says he’ll fight me.”

“Can’t blame the man for that.”

“Who side are you on?”

“Joe.  There ain’t no sides to this.”

“Some help you are.”

Joe pushed his glass away, slopping the fine liquor on the table.  Watching him leave, Hoss sighed.  He understood why Dryer had come, but all he’d done was stick a burr under his brother that wasn’t there before.  Joe needed time to cool off.  Hoss reached for the bottle.

***

The light under the door told him Joe was still awake.  He tapped on the solid wood before going in.  His brother lay in a familiar position.  Stretched on the bed, hands linked behind his head with ankles crossed.

“You, okay?”

A smooth movement brought Joe upright and sitting on the side of the bed.

“Yeah.”  Head down, Joe’s hands dangled between his knees.  Hoss eased himself down next to him and waited.  After a long moment, Joe drew a breath.  “I’ve missed seven years.  Seven years I should’ve had with them.  I can’t stop thinking about all the things we could’ve done, could’ve been in that time.”

“Don’t do that to yourself.”

“Then, what do I do?”

The knock at the door saved Hoss the pain of trying to answer the impossible.  The bellboy held out a note.  Hoss handed the lad a coin, read the name on the front of the folded paper, and gave it to Joe. 

Joe flipped open the message and held it to the lamp to read.  “It’s from Claire.  She’s inviting us to lunch after church tomorrow.”

“That’s a good sign, ain’t it?”

The look Joe gave him twisted his heart. 

“I guess.”

Hoss squeezed his brother’s shoulder.  “Everything will work out.”

“You look beat.  Let’s get some rest.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  Goodnight, brother.”

“Night, Joseph.”

Hoss stood for a long moment after Joe closed his door.  What would tomorrow bring?  Shaking his head, he could only pray he was right and everything would work out for the best.

Throwing his pillow against the headboard, Joe settled back, prepared for a long night.  Since his memory of Claire had returned, sleep proved a hard mistress to capture.  All those years without her haunted him.  His heart’s desire.  The one.  He’d fallen for a bright, beautiful young woman, and to see the glorious creature she’d grown into and realize he’d missed it all was unbearable agony.  But worse was the constant unfulfilled ache of needing to be with her. 

And then there was Emma, the curly-haired, freckle-faced darling with big brown eyes like her mother’s.  That stick of dynamite Doc Wilson had tossed at him had blown a hole so vast the feeling of loss overwhelmed him.  He’d missed so much and would never get the chance to do those things George had thrown in his face.  His jaw clamped tight, and his head slammed back into the headboard.  He should’ve done those things. 

Heaving a breath, Joe gazed at the ceiling.  What good did getting angry do?  Somehow, he’d get his family back.  Hoss’s cautionary words returned to ring in his head like a doomsday bell.  His determination faltered. Could he destroy another man’s family?  And if Claire was happy and no longer loved him?  Joe’s fist clenched.  The look in her eyes and the way she’d embraced him told another story.  She loved him, and he loved her.  That was something to fight for.

***

Chapter Six

Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe the feeling in the room.  Despite that, Hoss beamed at Claire when she handed him the plate of roast beef.

“Looks great, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Handing the plate to the stone-faced monolith beside him, Hoss prompted, “Ain’t it great?”

He kept smiling despite his brother’s withering glare and raised his eyebrows in encouragement.  Joe took the hint.  “Yeah.  Thanks, Claire.  The food’s lovely.”

“You’re welcome.”

From the head of the table, George opened the conversation.  “I’ve heard about the Ponderosa.  It’s the largest ranch in Nevada, I understand.”

“The largest and the richest.  Over one hundred thousand acres.  Cattle, timber, and a silver mine.”

Hoss frowned at Joe.  He wasn’t one to brag, and he wondered at the motives of this one.  “Yeah.  It’s a full-time job keeping up with the place.  But being a bank manager must be quite a responsibility, too.”

“It is.  Eden is an up-and-coming place.  We have big plans.  The Southern Pacific is expanding its line.  We’re shortlisted to be a stop on the route.  We plan to build a station, water stage, and stockyard to take the cattle from the surrounding ranches and beyond.”

“Sounds mighty fine.”

“George is on the station committee. He’s passionate about the subject.”  Claire directed a warm smile toward her husband, and pride shone in her eyes.

Next to him, Joe stiffened, and his right hand tightened around his fork.  Before he could think of something to say, Joe asked Emma.  “I hear you ride.  What’s your pony’s name?”

“I don’t have a pony of my own.  But my favorite ones at the livery are Mustard and Cherry.  Mustard is soft and kind, and Cherry is a beautiful red and does tricks.”

The excitement in the little girl’s eyes made them shine, and Hoss couldn’t help but return the smile that reached her cheekbones.  She sure looked like her pa when she did that.

“Every girl should have a pony.  On our ranch, you could ride all day long.”

Under the table, Hoss nudged Joe’s foot with his boot.  It earned him a look but nothing more.

“I’d love that.  Papa says living in town, we don’t need our own ponies.”

“I know lots of little girls who live in towns and have horses.  I could send you one.”

“You could?”

George cleared his throat.  “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

The curl of Joe’s lip made Hoss grit his teeth, and his nudge was closer to a kick this time.  Joe ignored it.  “Really.  You don’t?”

“I think I know what’s best for my daughter.”

“Your daughter?”

George set down his cutlery.  “I think that’s enough.  This isn’t why we asked you here.”

Joe leaped to his feet.  “Why did you?  To rub your happy family in my face?”

“Settle down,” Hoss told him. 

Nobody moved.  Joe’s chest rose and fell.  The whimper brought everyone’s attention around to the children.   The boy’s lip quivered, and next to him, Emma stared, white-faced, at Joe. 

“I’m sorry, Emma.  I never meant to scare you.  Excuse me.”

Hoss didn’t stop him from leaving.  Too angry and ashamed, he wouldn’t have known what to do with his brother right then except put him through a window.

He waited for Claire to settle the children and return to eating before laying his napkin down. 

“I’m sorry for what just happened.  He’s upset, but that ain’t no excuse.  I think I’d better go too.”

Although gratified by their calls for him to stay, Hoss wasn’t to be swayed. 

Joe wasn’t in the hotel room or the saloons, and by the time he got to the stable, Cochise was already gone.  Hands on his hips, Hoss kicked the dirt and hoped Little Brother would work through his mood and come to his senses.

***

Joe dismounted, walked to the pond, and perched on a handy rock.  The shame he’d seen on Hoss’s face was nothing compared to what burned through him.  What kind of man frightened kids?  His own daughter?

He hadn’t meant to say those things, but control slipped away when he’d sat down opposite Claire and Emma and got a taste of what should have been his. 

He yanked off his hat and ran a hand through his hair as if to wipe away the memory of what he’d done.  Sending a stone crashing into the pond, he wished his feelings of disgust could be sunk that easy.  Two more pebbles followed, letting Joe claw back some calm.  The next, he skimmed, sending out ripples across the still water.  It took him back to the little pond where he and Claire picnicked every Sunday.  He’d skimmed stones then, too.

“It’s only six, seven days.  I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Claire nudged him with her shoulder.  “I know you will.  ‘Sides, it’s good you’re being trusted to deliver the bull.”

“Top hand, that’s me.”   She laughed at his brag.  He ran a finger down her arm.  “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

She wiggled her toes and, to his disappointment, pulled her skirt down to cover her ankles and bare feet.   “Nothing that can’t wait until you get back.”

He tilted his head at the mischief and excitement in her eyes.  “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

The soft longing of those words came back to him now.  Why hadn’t he pressed her?  Knowing he was to be a father surely would’ve made a difference.  A man couldn’t forget that.  Could he?  The thought of what he had forgotten twisted his gut.  He’d never be able to forgive himself for that.

Around him, the harsh heat of the day eased.  The setting sun bloomed soft pink across the sky, and the day settled into the quiet hush of evening.  Like the inevitable night that rushed to greet him, so did the knowledge of what he had to do.  He picked up his hat like it held the weight of the world and rode back to Eden, back to that front door.

“Cartwright?  I don’t know what—”

“I’ve not come to make trouble.”

Claire appeared at George’s side.  “Joe?”

“I was out of line, and I’m sorry.  I’d no right to say what I did.  The last thing I wanted was to scare the children.  I  hope you can forgive me.  That’s all.”

Walking away, he didn’t look back.  Unable to bear the looks he knew they’d exchange or the way her hand would continue to rest on George’s arm. 

He had one more apology to make.

“I made a fool of myself.” 

“Darn straight, you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t me you should be apologizing to.”

“I called at their house on the way back.”

Exhausted, Joe dropped into the chair opposite his brother.  He’d had more energy after grueling cattle drives.

Hoss grunted and folded the paper he’d been reading.  “Think I’ll turn in.”

Joe bit his lip.  Had what he’d done sickened Hoss so much he couldn’t forgive him?  When that big hand dropped onto his shoulder as his brother passed, it lifted the weight from him like nothing else could. 

***

Chapter Seven

The smell of bacon enticed Hoss out of bed and into the sitting room. 

“Morning.  I ordered breakfast.”

Hoss joined Joe at the table, covered with enough food for four.  His brother shoveled in mouthfuls with an appreciation Hoss hadn’t seen since they’d left the ranch.

“You’re awful chipper this morning.”

Joe beamed him a smile and grabbed another biscuit.  “New day, brother.  New day.”

“And what’s different about this day?”  Hoss didn’t want to dampen Joe’s mood, but his exuberance was unnerving.

“I realized I made a big mistake.  Rushing Claire and pushing the issue.  I’ve got to give her time.  Let her get used to my being alive.”

“And that’ll make a difference?”

Another spoonful of eggs hit Joe’s plate, and he dug in with his fork. 

“Sure.  She loves me.  I think she’ll make the right choice.  Meantime, I can get to know Emma.”  Hoss bit his bottom lip, and Joe’s fork froze midair.  “I have that right?  Don’t I?”

Hoss wavered.  Whatever he thought about his brother’s hopes for Claire, there was no denying Joe would love that little girl.

“Yeah.  You do.”  The happiness in Joe’s smile humbled Hoss.  It meant a lot to know he needed his blessing.  “What’s the plan?”

“A letter.”

“Good idea.”

Joe’s nod was enthusiastic.  “I’ll write it after breakfast.”

***

The pile of paper the hotel had supplied sank under Joe’s attempts.  He focused the message on his daughter and avoided any reference to their marriage, but still, it was a struggle.  Each time he made what might be mistaken for a veiled threat, he began again.  Any hint of a demand, ultimatum, or pathetic plea, he began again.  

Ink turned his fingers blue, and the clock chimed twice before he had something he was happy with.  Folding the sheet of paper, he slumped back and sighed.

Hoss looked up from his game of solitaire.  “Want me to deliver it?”

***

Claire answered the knock.

“Howdy, ma’am.  I’m here to deliver a letter from Joe.”

Her eyes lit when he held out the message, and the slender fingers that took it trembled.  Hoss pressed his lips together.  Maybe Joe had a reason to believe she still loved him. 

“Thank you.  Won’t you come in for some coffee, Hoss?”

“I don’t wanna impose.”

“Please.  I’d like to talk.”

Never proof against any pleading female, Hoss pulled off his hat and stepped through the door.

The coffee pot set down; Claire poured a cup. 

“Tell me.  What’s he like?”

“Ma’am?”

“Joe Cartwright.  I knew Dan Smith.”

“Reckon they’re the same.  Back then, Joe could be an ‘ornery little cuss.  Flying off the handle and getting into fights.  Slippery too.  He liked to dodge out of a chore or two.”

A frown wrinkled the brow of the lady.  “Oh, no.  Dan worked hard all the time.  Saving money so we could get married.  But he was fun.  How we’d laugh.  But sometimes, he was stubborn.  Oh, and he could make me mad.  But I never stayed cross for long.  He’d smile that smile and win me around.”

“That’s my little brother.  Saturday night, he’d charm those little gals in Virginia Ci—” Hoss broke off and gathered himself.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean .…”

Claire smiled.  “That’s all right.  After all, he didn’t remember me, did he?”

“No.  He didn’t.  Boy, that sure was a time.  Missing a whole year.  We’d all but given him up for dead.  I’ve never seen our Pa so happy.  Joe were glad to be back, except—”  Hoss broke off, not sure how much to say.

“Go on.  Please.”

“Joe never could hide much from me.  I could see it scared him.  The not knowing where he’d been or what he’d done all that time.  It bothered him.  He wanted to ride back right away.  Figure it out.  But Pa weren’t giving in.  Joe had just returned from the dead with no memory.  No way was he going anywhere ‘til he’d seen a whole passel of doctors.”

“Did they help?”

“Don’t reckon so.  They all thought he’d lost his memory because of some kinda accident.  But we figured that out for ourselves.  All it did was frustrate him.  And I tell you, ma’am, my little brother frustrated ain’t a pretty sight.”

Claire bit her lip.  “Well, that I do know.  When we first found him, he couldn’t abide not knowing who he was or that he couldn’t find out.  I was the only one who could speak to him without getting my head bitten off.”

Hoss chuckled.  “Doctors or not, Joe wouldn’t be stopped forever.  First chance he got, back we went to where he’d woken up that morning.  We rode into the towns around, but no one remembered him.  We drew a blank. 

“I can still see his face.  It was like a piece of him was missing.  We had to give up, but sometimes I’d see that look.  I suspected he used his vacations to go back again.  Then, a few years ago, I was rummaging through Joe’s room to find something I loaned him when I found them.”

“What?”

“The clothes and gun he’d been wearing when he returned.  All there, neatly tucked away.  That’s when I knew.  He weren’t never gonna give up wondering.”

Claire dropped her gaze.  “I see.”

“Ma’am.  Whatever happens, you should know Joe loves you.”

Tears glistened in Claire’s eyes when she raised them.  “Oh, I never doubted that.”

“He just wants the chance to get to know his little girl.”  Claire picked up the letter, turning it in her hands.  Judging it was time to leave, Hoss drained his cup.  “Thanks for the coffee.”

The bustle of Eden’s main street failed to penetrate Hoss’s reverie when he strolled back to the hotel.  It was obvious that Claire still loved his brother.  But did that make things easier or worse? 

“Took your time,” Joe commented as he walked through the door.

“Yeah.  Stayed for coffee.”

“Oh?”  The look in his brother’s eyes warned him of the interrogation to come.  Not one to lie.  It didn’t stop Hoss wishing he’d said anything else right then.  “What did you talk about?  Me?  What did she say?”

“Nuthin’ much.  She talked about what you were like.”

“Good things?”

Hoss hitched his pants.  “Mostly.  It’s you, after all.”  The joke was a risk.  To his relief, Joe laughed.  “I’m starved.  How about lunch?”

“I could eat.”

The café’s steak and eggs cleaned off their plates, and with a generous slice of peach pie in front of them, Hoss decided to find out what Joe had planned.

“I told Claire I’d give her as much time as she needed to decide about Emma.”

“We going home then?”

“Not me.  But you go.  Pa can’t have us both absent for too long.”

“Why not wait to hear at home?”

Joe finished chewing on his piece of pie before answering, “Uh, uh … out of sight, brother, remember?  I’m staying right here.”

“Well, if you are, so—”

“Hoss.  I’m all grown up.  I don’t need you holding my hand.”

“Try telling that to Pa.”

Joe rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.  Hoss let it drop and stayed put.

***

Chapter Eight

Over the next three days, Hoss watched his younger brother trying to be patient and tear himself apart from the inside out.  They walked Eden’s entire length and breadth to get out of their hotel room and give him something else to think about.  The bustling main street led to the spanking new church at the end.  The white-painted wood still shone bright in the sun and sang out the town’s intentions for peace, growth, and prosperity. 

In front of that building, Eden sprawled out to the river on one side, and on the other stretched the land planned for the new station and cattle pens.  Joe kept away from Claire’s house and the school whenever they walked.  Hoss understood why.

He tried again several times to talk him into going home.  But when Joe dug in deep, it would take nitro to shift him, and Hoss’s arguments fell short of that power.  Joe did his best.  He tried to look cheerful and reined in his temper, which made it harder for Hoss.  Dealing with Younger Brother in a mood was never easy, but watching him struggle?  Maybe busting out and losing his temper would do Joe some good.

***

Joe tossed his hat onto the table in their room and scuffed his hands through his hair.  He might be sick and tired of walking the streets of Eden, but it was better than facing a never-ending afternoon stuck in this room. 

“Fancy a game?”

Hoss held up the pack of cards.  Joe rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the tension behind them.

“No.”

“I could try and borrow a checkerboard.”

“I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Well, I am.  So why don’t we try it?”

“Thanks, but I’ll skip it.”

“Who said you had a choice?  I wanna play.”

Joe looked around from gazing out the window.  Irritation crawled up his spine.  “Look.  I don’t wanna fight about this, but I don’t wanna play.”

Hoss stepped across the floor.  His index finger jabbed at Joe’s face.  “Too bad.  You got one.”

Tension boiled into anger.  Nose to nose, Joe stood ready.  Hoss didn’t intimidate him.  If he wanted a fight, he’d give him one.  But the gleeful look in his brother’s eyes took him by surprise.  The knock at the door snapped through the stand-off.  Glaring at Joe, Hoss went to open it.

“Hello, Hoss.  Is … is Joe here?”

“He sure is.”

Hoss stepped back to allow Claire to enter the room.  Joe stood motionless.

“I’ll check on that thing,” Hoss mumbled, although no one seemed to hear.

The door closed behind his brother.  Claire checked he was gone before she spoke, “Thank you for your letter.”

“I meant everything I said.”

“I know.”

Silence fell.  He gazed into her eyes.  Seventeen again, he stood in that meadow, asking her to marry him.  Her beauty robbed him of breath then, too.  She wore a different wedding band on her figure now, but it faded under the glow of what was in his heart.  He couldn’t hold back the words any longer.  “I love you so much.”

“Oh, Joe.”

Whatever force held him to that spot released its hold when that first tear tumbled over her lashes.  She met him halfway.  Drawn to each other, they clashed together with all the fury of the foaming sea.  Their passion engulfed them, dissolving the world until only they existed.  Red hot kisses pressed into their lips and skin.  Their fingers shook with the urgency to strip what lay between them.  Clothes were strewn over the floor on their way to the bed, plucked off like petals. 

With flesh touching flesh, they lay still for a long moment, gazing into each other’s eyes.  Their movements became unhurried, familiar, and full of the tenderness they’d known so well.  He thrilled again at her touch and breathed in her scent, letting it sink into every pore.  Wandering hands reacquainting themselves with her glorious body, and his lips brushed her skin, moving with joyful determination not to miss a spot.  The love that swelled his heart almost brought Joe to tears when they became one.

Where it rested, her head moved with the rise and fall of his chest while soft fingers stroked slow circles into his sweat-sheened skin.  Nuzzling his chin into hair that flowed down her back and over her shoulders, Joe kissed the top of her head. He’d never known happiness like this.  They were together, and his world was perfect again. 

“Pa’s gonna love you, and you’re gonna love the Ponderosa.”

“Joe—”

“Say that again.  I love hearing you say it.”

She lifted her head.  “I can’t go with you.”

“What?  Why not?”

“I’m sorry.”

Claire sat up when he pushed himself upright.

“We just made love.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

The finality in her expression chilled his flesh before anger swept over him to heat it.  Flinging back the covers, Joe grabbed his pants and hauled them on.  The door crashed back against the wall when he left the bedroom.  He marched around the sitting room, fighting the urge to break something.  What the hell just happened?

After a few minutes, Claire appeared still doing up the buttons of her blouse.  Her calmness didn’t help his mood.  He needed answers.

“How can you say nothing has changed after what just happened? ”

“I’m still married.”

Joe’s fingers dug into the back of a chair.  “That damned marriage.  Why?  Why did you marry?  You didn’t love me enough to wait?”

His anger had clawed free the accusation he’d never meant to level.  The one buried so deep he’d thought he’d never find.  Guilt held him still, and he watched the shock in her eyes turn to fury.

“How dare you!  What do you know?  Can you even understand what it was like?  To spend every minute waiting for you to come back.  Every time someone walked into Doc Wilson’s, my heart would stop, hoping it would be you.  And on the street, when I saw a hat tipped at just the right angle.  I cried every night, wishing I’d told you.  Wondering if that might’ve made the difference.  If knowing would’ve been enough to have brought you back to me—”

Claire broke off and ran a hand over her mouth before wiping away the tears.  She trembled, but going to her wasn’t an option.  If he moved, he’d have broken in two.

“I had a baby and no husband.  I was little more than a whore to most men.  You’ve no idea the humiliations I’ve suffered.  And you stand there and judge me?”

“I never meant—”  Joe dropped his gaze from the suffering in her eyes.  Those years apart had been a blink in time to him, but she lived them every minute, every day.

“For four years, I didn’t look at another man.  For four years, I thought about only you.  Waited for you.  But George had been there.  Kind and caring.  Helping, yet asking for nothing in return.  And yes, I grew to love him.  But I never stopped loving you, and I never will.”

He took an abrupt step toward her.  “Then we can—”

“Joe.  I’m having a baby.”

Unable to move, his brain stumbled over the words that refused to form into something he could understand. 

“But we just ….  How could you let us …?”

“I couldn’t have otherwise.” 

Turning away, he saw his shirt.  Snatching it up, he yanked it on to cover his bare chest.

“You used that.  And me?”

“I truly never meant that to happen.  It was just …. being here with you … was so.  I’m sorry.”

The sob shattered the air.  Her distress lassoed and dragged him back to take her in his arms.  He followed her down when she crumbled to her knees.

“It’s all right,” he crooned.

“I missed you so much.”

His thumb brushed away her tears.  “Stay with me.”

“I can’t.  We’ve had our time.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I have to.”

“No.  Not when you keep telling me you love me.”

The sadness in her eyes matched his.  “I wish I could lie and tell you I don’t.  I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t love him.”

The fingers that reached for his face quivered, and the heat from her palms burned into his skin.  “They’ll never be anyone like you, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave him because I have you back.”

“But, we—”

Her fingertips pressed against his lips, silencing him.  Her eyes pleaded with him.

“Please understand.  I can’t do that to him.  Don’t ask me too.”

She pressed her forehead against his.  He clung tight, pulling her close.  Caressing her cheek with his, he soaked her in.  Her words said goodbye, but not the arms holding him, the breath on his neck, or the pulsing of her heart.

Into her ear, he murmured, “You don’t have to.  I’ll be the bad guy.  I’ll see that judge.  Annul his marriage.”

Claire stiffened and, with infinite care, pulled away.  Palming away her tears, she got up.  His brow creased when she collected her jacket from where it lay.  When she walked to the door, Joe stood.

“Claire?”

She stopped but didn’t turn her head.  “The man I fell in love with could never do that.”

The door closed without a sound.

***

Chapter Nine

From Hoss’s position on the bench outside the mercantile, he could see the hotel entrance.  Pushing back his hat, he scratched his forehead.  They’d been up there a long time.  Hopefully, they were talking out their problems.  

He sat up straighter when he spotted Claire leaving.  The look on her face made him purse his lips.  His gaze flicked up to their room window before he settled back.  Facing Joe in the mood he was likely in didn’t appeal.  A few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

Slumped in a chair, his younger brother looked greyer than a ghost and twenty years older.  Maybe those minutes did hurt.  There was only one thing to do.

“C’mon.  You need a drink.”

“I don’t wanna beer.”

“I ain’t talking about a beer.”

***

“So, she’s having another baby?”

“Yeah.  Which means she can’t get pregnant right now.”

“Well, of course, but what’s that got to do with any—  Oh.  I see.”

Hoss took a gulp of whiskey.  Things were more complicated than he imagined between those two. 

His brother ran a thumb up the side of his glass.  “I thought I’d got it all back.  Everything I’d lost.  I was so happy, just for that moment.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Dadburnit, Joseph.  It’s nobody’s fault.  It’s just a bad situation, is all.”

“Yeah.  That’s right.  Just a bad situation.”

Joe slumped into silence.  When they got back to the hotel, Hoss ignored his protests and ordered coffee and sandwiches.  When they were brought up, a letter came too. 

Hoss watched Joe crush it between his fingers.  “What did it say?”

“They need more time to tell Emma.”

“How much time?”

“Claire doesn’t say.  She suggests I go home, and she’ll write me there.”

“So, we’re leaving?”

Joe’s head snapped around.  “No.”

Hoss grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of courage.  It was time to get down to brass tacks.

“So, what’re you gonna do?”

“You heard that lawyer.  I’m Emma’s father.  She belongs to me.”

“You gonna wrest her away from her ma.  Is that it?”

“No.  I want them both.”

“How’re you gonna get that?  Annul her marriage?  Make that poor little mite of theirs a bastard and the new baby, too?”

“What d’you expect me to do?  Walk away?”

“If that’s what Claire wants.  Then, yes.”

“I can’t.  I love her too much.”

“Truth is.  You don’t love her enough.” 

Hoss stood to meet his brother, who strode straight at him.

Soft and low, his words dripped with menace, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not.  But I do know you.  And you wouldn’t be this mad if you didn’t know I was right.”

He watched the quiver run through his younger brother.  Was Joe about to plant that clenched fist on his chin?  Hoss braced, but the punch never came.  Instead, Joe reached for his hat.

“I need some air!”

***

Joe ignored the startled expression on the face of the desk clerk when he strode through the lobby and slammed out of the hotel.  Neither did he give the people of the boardwalk who jumped aside to let him march past a second look.  He didn’t stop until he reached the church.  Hands on hips, he walked in circles, kicking the stones under his feet.

All he wanted was to be with his wife and child.  Was that so much to ask?  Why should he have to do the decent thing?  Walk away.  Let go of everything he desired.  He couldn’t do it.  His heart just wouldn’t let him.  Determination settled in his gut, and he took off back down the street toward the bank.

Through the window, he saw George sitting alone at his desk.  Ignoring the ‘closed’ sign, he shoved the door open.

George’s face hardened when he saw who had walked in.  “What d’you want?”

“To talk.”

“Why?  Claire told you we need more time.”

“I’m not here to talk about Emma.  This is about Claire.”

“Cartwright, all I want is for you to leave.  I know she told you about the baby.  Isn’t that enough for you to back off?”

“She’s still my wife.”  Joe drew a breath.  He hadn’t come to argue.  He’d come to settle this.  “Look.  If I went to a judge, I could take Emma.  She’s my daughter, and that’s my right.  And then he’d declare your marriage illegal.  You know what that would mean.  I don’t want to do that to your children.”

“Then, don’t.  Go away and leave us alone.”

“I won’t do that.  But there is another way.”

George tossed the document he was holding onto his desk.  “This ought to be good.”

“Divorce her.”

“What?”

“Divorce Claire.  She and I can marry again.  This time as Cartwrights.  I’ll adopt Emma, and your children need never know they’re illegitimate.”

“You expect me to divorce my wife?”

“I expect you to divorce the woman you were never married to.”

“We’re man and wife in every way that matters.”

“Except the one that really matters.  The law.”

“And what about Claire?  She’s already turned you down.  Do you think destroying us and ruining her children’s lives will bring her back to you?  Well, go ahead, Cartwright.  Do it.  She’ll hate you for the rest of your miserable life.”

Joe wound his fingers around the spindle chair on the other side of George’s desk and flung it across the room. 

“You’ve had seven years!”

“Seven!  My God, man.  Did you think she took up with me the moment you left?  It took years.  She was always hoping you’d come back. 

“The day she finally buried you was the best day of my life.  Do you know what day that was?  The day our son was born.  For the first time, she looked at me the same way she’d always looked when she talked about you.” 

Joe pushed the words aside.  He’d come too far to listen to anything this man said.  “I’m not walking away.  I’ve missed too much.  It’s not fair.”

“Who told you life was fair?  Is it fair that you turned up again?  Why couldn’t you have just stayed dead?”

The step forward Joe took halted when the door thrust open again.  Joe cursed for not locking it behind him, and both turned and scowled at the three men who’d entered. 

“I’m sorry, gentleman.  The bank is closed.”

Every nerve in Joe tingled when the three moved at once.  The one nearest the door lowered the blinds while the others drew their guns.  Joe raised his hands.

“What’s this all about?”

Glancing at George, Joe wondered at the stupid question.  “I think they’re robbing you.”

The one in front moved nearer and grinned.  “That’s right.  We’ve heard about all that money you’ve got in that there safe.  Open it, and we’ll be on our way.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Better think again.  Open the safe.”

“No.”

The man pressed the business end of his revolver into George’s chest.  “Open it.”

Keeping his eyes on the thief, Joe told George, “Do as he says.  It’s only money.”

“That money’s all we have.  It’s the town’s future.  For building the station and pens.  I’ve no right to give that away.”

“Don’t be a fool.  It’s not worth dying for.”

“Maybe not to you.  But for me ….  No.  I can’t.”

The man’s attention switched to Joe.  “You open it.”

Joe spread the fingers of his raised hands.  “I’m a visitor here.  I don’t know the combination.”

The guy was running out of patience.  He turned the gun on Joe, telling George,  “Open the safe, or we’ll shoot him.”

Joe met George’s eyes before the manager turned back and answered, “Go ahead.  You’ll be doing me a favor.”

Startled, the robber looked back at Joe, who read the same question for him on the man’s face.  “Either way, it breaks.”

Joe could’ve laughed at the thieves’ expressions to this turn of events, but this wasn’t a laughing matter. 

The youngest of the gang demanded, “What’s wrong with you two?  D’you wanna die?  Open the damn safe!“

The leader put up his hand.  “No mind.  I came prepared.” 

Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out a neat little bundle of dynamite.  It was all over for the bank.  Joe cut a look at George.  A part of him could still feel for the man.  The look on the manager’s face changed all that.  Defeat was the last thing in his eyes.  In that fraction of a moment, Joe had time to appreciate how his father must’ve felt each time he caught that same look.  Before he could even draw a breath, George moved.

To the outlaws, Joe was worth keeping one eye on, but not George.  An over-the-hill banker posed no threat, so when he tackled the leader, it took them all by surprise. 

Grabbing the opportunity, Joe pulled his gun.  “Drop them!”  The bullet that smashed into the wood floor reinforced his demand, and two Smith and Wessons fell.

He waved them back against the wall and returned his attention to the two men wrestling on the ground in time to see George thrown aside.  The outlaw rose to one knee and drew.  Joe fired, yelling a warning.  Too late!  George folded under the bullet.

But the gunfire had done its job.  The bank’s door burst open again, and the sheriff and deputies rushed in.

“They tried to rob the bank.  Get a doctor.  Dryer’s injured.”

The shout went out on the street for the Doc.  Leaving the thieves to the sheriff, Joe pulled out his bandana and pressed it over the blood spreading across George’s side.   

George tried and failed to brush Joe off.  “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure, you will.”

George snorted.  “You start being nice to me, Cartwright.  I’ll start to worry.”

Joe shook his head and pressed harder.

The deputies dragged off the three robbers.  Their leader screamed blue murder that he needed the doctor for his injured arm.  Joe wasn’t surprised they ignored him.  He’d have to wait.

The doctor appeared in minutes, and others followed him into the bank.  Joe moved aside to let the medical man take his place.  People crowded around Joe, shouting his praises for stopping the robbers.  “You’re a hero!” someone called.  That was enough.  Joe pushed himself free of the crowd.

“You’ve got it wrong.  There’s your hero right there.  Unarmed, he still tackled the thieves when they went to blow the safe.  He’s the man who saved your money and town.  Not me.”

Joe turned to leave and froze.  Claire stood silhouetted in the doorway, with Emma at her side.  She met his gaze for a fleeting moment before it dropped to George.  They ran past him.  He was forgotten.

People talked and moved, but none registered with Joe except that little family huddled together.  George propped himself up to allow him to put one arm around Emma.  The other hand he gave to Claire.  She clung to it, and Emma’s little arms encircled his neck.  Tears ran down her face.  The ease with which he calmed her sent a wave of pain through Joe.  This man was her father, and they were his family.  Their whole world revolved around each other.  A world he wasn’t part of and had no right to change. 

Hoss was pounding down the street towards the bank when Joe walked out the door.  The look of relief on his brother’s face healed a tiny part of a heart that had shattered under the weight of the truth that had hit him.

“You, all right?  What happened?”

“I’ll tell you about it on the way to the hotel.” 

***

Hoss opened the door and let the sheriff step inside.

“How is he?” Joe asked.

“He came through the operation okay.  The doc says he’ll need a lot of nursing but reckons he’ll recover.”  He offered Joe his hand.  “George told me what you did.  Thanks.”

Joe was quick to dismiss the praise.  “How’s Cl … Mrs. Dryer?”

“She’s holding up.  She and the kids are staying at the doc’s tonight.”

Thanking the sheriff for the information, Joe closed the door behind him and leaned against the panel.

“What now?” Hoss asked.

“We’re going home.” 

He expected the look of surprise but not the one of simple pride that replaced it.  Ducking his head, he looked away.  He didn’t deserve it.

***

The air of Eden still hummed the next morning with the tale of the attempted bank robbery.  The livery owner couldn’t wait to tell them all about it.  Joe let Hoss deal with him.

They drew rein outside the doctor’s office.  The lady who answered the door told them Claire and the children had gone home. 

“George is getting taken home later.  She went to get things ready.”

Thanking her, they moved off.  One last goodbye, and then they’d leave.  Joe needed Claire to know she was right.  He couldn’t do what he threatened and wouldn’t bother her again. 

Everyone wanted to help the hero and his family, and they found Claire on her porch, surrounded by a group of women.  There was little chance of a private talk.  But then, Claire looked around and saw him.  He held her gaze, and everything he wanted to say passed between them in that look.  Lifting his hand, he tipped the brim of his hat.  A smile spread over her face.  She understood. 

Riding past the church and out of town, Joe said, “It’ll be good to get home.”

***

Chapter Ten

Hoss rode beside his stiff-backed brother all day.  Not a word passed between them about his decision to leave Eden.  But once they camped, and he’d watched Joe stare into the fire for twenty minutes, he decided to ask, “You regret it?”

“Huh?”

“Leaving?  You wish you’d stayed?”

Joe’s shoulders drooped.  “No.  It was the right thing to do.  That little girl has a pa.  She doesn’t need me.  Best they all forget. Like I forgot them.”

Hoss lowered his head, unable to look at his brother’s pain.  It was tough.  He had done the right thing.  Breaking up that family would’ve only brought everyone a world of grief.  This way, only Joe was grieving.  But that didn’t make it any easier to watch. 

Joe thought it was over and he’d never see Claire or that little girl again.  But Hoss had hope.  Every week after they got back, he’d checked the mail.  Today, hope arrived at last. 

Stuffing the letter inside his waistcoat pocket, Hoss dashed back to the mercantile and the buckboard.  Pushing the team a mite harder than he should’ve, he couldn’t wait to put that letter into his little brother’s hand.  Bursting through the door, he scanned the room and found only Pa.

“Where’s Joe?”

“I’m here.”  Joe’s voice brought his head around to find his brother walking through from the kitchen. 

“This came for you.” 

A big grin spread over his face when he handed over the letter.  Joe’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t comment on his brother’s excitement until he caught the name of the town scrawled into one corner of the envelope.  His gaze shot up to meet Hoss’s.  “Eden?”

Unable to get a word out, Hoss nodded.  Joe’s fingers ripped the envelope open and spread the single sheet.  Hoss shifted from foot to foot, watching for some sign it was the good news his gut told him it would be. 

He didn’t hear Pa come to stand beside them.  Hoss hadn’t been privy to Joe’s conversation with their father when they’d returned three months ago.  Joe wanted to talk to Pa alone, and his father had never raised the subject with him.  But he saw the light of hope in Pa’s eyes when he asked, “From Claire?”

The smile on Joe’s face gave them the answer.  “They’ve told Emma about me.  She’s coming for a visit.  I’m gonna see my little girl.”

***

Hoss found his brother in the barn grooming the little Palamino Joe had picked out the day after the letter arrived.  Hanging over the stall, Hoss grinned.

“She’s gonna love her.  That is, iffin you ain’t brushed her bald.” 

Joe returned the smile, put down the grooming brush, and scrubbed one hand through his hair.  Emma was due tomorrow.  Little Brother hadn’t known what to do with himself for the past week. 

“I promised her a pony.”

“And that’s a mighty pretty one.”

“I hope she likes her.”

Hoss dropped a hand onto Joe’s tense shoulder.  “‘Course she will.  I know something else she’ll like too.  You.”

His brother’s hands kneaded together.  “I don’t know.  It’s a lot to ask.  I’m the man who abandoned her.”

“Awww.  I expect Claire’s explained all that.”

“I know.  But I want her to hear it from me.”

The hand on his brother’s shoulder squeezed tight. 

***

Chapter Eleven

Hos reckoned Joe would wear the boards through with his pacing by the time the stage arrived.  He cut a look at Pa, who only raised his eyebrows.   They all came together to greet the occupants when it bowled around the corner.

Joe’s welcome for Claire and George was friendly but not enthusiastic.  They’d planned to stay for three days, long enough to see Emma settled in.  Joe stayed around only enough not to raise any comment.  Hoss didn’t blame him for that. 

The night before the family was due to leave, Pa invited them to extend their visit.  Hoss breathed a sigh of relief when George turned the offer down,  “Thank you, Ben.  But now the railroad is coming, there’s a great deal to do.  I need to get back.”

Grateful for Joe’s sake, Hoss reckoned only he noticed the expression that haunted his brother’s eyes when Claire fussed over George, or they made a move that struck a nerve.  He wasn’t sorry to wave them off and see Joe’s shoulders lift and his step lighten.

***

The Palomino still stood in its stall.  After George and Claire left, Hoss had expected Joe to reveal this little beauty.  Two days later, there was no sign of Little Brother doing that. 

Leaning on the rake, Hoss took a breather and scratched behind one honey-colored ear.

“Don’t you worry.  You’ll get to meet that little gal soon enough.”  Walking into the barn, Joe gave him a look.  Since he’d overheard, Hoss asked, “When are you fixing on giving her to Emma?”

Joe scratched the other ear.  “Soon as I have our talk.  I don’t wanna rush it.”

Hoss got it.  The last thing Joe wanted Emma to think was he was trying to buy her affection.    But he feared that talk, too.

“Y’know, it’s a good job that little gal takes after her ma.  She sure ain’t dumb.”  Ignoring his brother’s grunt, he continued, “But she’s got a good heart.  Just like her pa.  I reckon anything you have to tell her, she’ll understand.”

With a slap on his brother’s back, Hoss returned to cleaning the stalls.  Joe gave the horse one last scratch, pushed back his shoulders, and left.  Hoss smiled. 

***

Joe wilted under the intense gaze that locked onto him and never wavered.  He steadied himself, ready to answer her questions. 

“You didn’t remember us at all?”

“I didn’t know your ma was carrying you.  But it’s true.  I didn’t remember.  I forgot everything.”

“And when you remembered, you came to find us?”

He reached over and pushed back the wayward curl that blew over her face.  “Yes.  If I’d remembered sooner.  Known about you.  I’d have come right away.  Nothing could’ve stopped me.”

She fell silent.  As the seconds dragged by, panic began to grip Joe’s heart.  Had he blown it?  Said too much?  Not enough? 

Emma tilted her head.  “We have lots of time to make up for, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do.”  Those eyes continued to consider him, and he swallowed the lump in his throat to ask, “What is it?”

“I don’t think I should call you Joe anymore.”

He hitched a breath.  Shocked how the question took him by surprise.  “What would you like to call me?”

“Papa is Papa.  So, I can’t call you that.  Would it be all right if I called you Pa?”

Joe blinked back his tears and nodded.  “Sure.  That’s just fine.”

***

EPILOGUE

Walking out of the house, Joe made for the hitch rail and leaned into the wood, made smooth over time.  He breathed in the warm air.  Summer had arrived, and he’d take the stage to Eden tomorrow to pick up Emma.  Ever since that second summer, he’d gone to fetch her. 

He still marveled how she’d fitted right into the Ponderosa.  The house lit up with her laughter, and everyone adored her.  Candy had taken it upon himself to teach her how to be a cowhand, and even the roughest, grouchiest wrangler kept an eye out for her.  She was Claire’s little girl, but when Joe overheard Pa scolding her for riding too fast into the yard, he smiled to know there was some of him in her, too.  He laughed at how easily she’d wrapped Pa around her cute little finger. As for Uncle Hoss?  He’d been a gonna from day one.

Claire never left him.  In his dreams, they were the family he had hoped for.  But a man had to live in the real world and take what fate dealt.  Emma was his ace.  Each summer spent with them brought them closer; to him, it felt like he’d known her all her life.

Whenever he collected her, he’d only stay one night in Eden’s bustling hotel.  But this year, things were different.  This year, there would be no George.  The letter from Claire had arrived last November with the news. 

“What happened?” Pa asked.

“He got caught in a downpour and developed influenza.  Claire says he’s health hadn’t been the same since he got shot, and he didn’t have the strength to beat it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  He was a good man.”

“I’ll write to Claire … and Emma.”

The letter to Emma was easier than the one to Claire.  He wasn’t proud of the thought, but George’s death opened a door he believed had been closed for good.  But every instinct fought his desire to pour out his love for her.  He listened to reason and instead filled his letter with condolences and support.  It took everything he had to write that he hoped Emma could still come in the summer, but he’d understand if Claire wanted her close that year.  Claire’s reply let him know he’d done the right thing. 

But now he would see her in person, the widow of George Dryer, the hero and Mayor of Eden for the last four years.  He clasped his hands together and watched his knuckles whiten.

He didn’t turn his head when the door opened, and Pa joined him on the hitch rail.

“All packed?”

“Yep.”

“It’ll be good to have Emma back.”

“Yeah.”

“Be strange for you, seeing Claire now she’s a widow.”

“I guess.”

“You’ll be all right?”

Joe looked at his father.  How was it he always knew?  He smiled and lifted a hand to his shoulder.  “Yeah.  I’ll be all right.”

Both men looked around, hearing the approach of a vehicle, and straightened up to greet their visitor when the buggy swept around the barn.

Squeezed into the front seat beside her brother and sister, Emma waved when she saw them.

“Suprise, Pa, Grandpa!  We’ve all come for a visit.”

For once, Joe wasn’t looking at his daughter.  Instead, his gaze was fixed on the woman holding the reins of the hired buggy. 

When it came to a halt, he still hadn’t moved.  Pa patted him on the back and went to the children.   Hoss, Hop Sing, and Jamie came running, and Pa enlisted them to help take the children inside.

Left alone, Joe gathered himself together and took the few steps toward Claire.  His hand rested on the dash rail, and he looked into the face of the woman he loved.

“Hello, Joe.”

That was all she needed to say.

***  The End  ***

[January 2024]

If you enjoyed my little story, please consider scrolling down and leaving a comment. Thank you. 

Author’s Notes:

Although I have used some poetic license, Joe’s memory loss is based around Episodic/Retrograde amnesia, which is when a person only loses the memory of events in their life – who they are and where they come from.  This can be a total loss or partial loss.  Sufferers’ memory may never return, or it all can, or anything in between.