Pa Didn’t Say Not to …………

by Joefan1

Ben Cartwright mounted his horse, then turned to his two sons. 

“Hoss, you’ll be in charge while Adam and I are away in Sacramento.”

“And you,” he continued, eyeballing his youngest boy, “stay out of trouble. That means no gunshot wounds, no broken bones, no cracked ribs, no black eyes, no battered and bruised face, and definitely no bank robberies.”

“Yes sir.”

“Have a good trip, pa,” Hoss interrupted before his father could start up again. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on little brother.”

“See that you do,” Ben directed his son. 

“And both of you take care, you hear,” he added, smiling, as he and Adam rode off.

  As the two brothers entered the house Hoss turned to Joe, and said, “Maybe you should stay in bed until Pa returns. Oh wait, you’d probably fall out of bed and batter and bruise your face.” 

Laughing at his own joke, Hoss patted his disgruntled brother on the back. 

xxxxxxxxx

“You not want  Hop Sing fix dinner?” the little servant asked a few days later.

“No, not tonight. Take the evening off,” Joe replied.

“Maybe Mr. Hoss want Hop Sing fix dinner?”

“No, Hoss is spending the evening with Mary Lou, and she’s making dinner for him.” Joe reminded Hop Sing as he reached for his gun belt and left for Virginia City.

  An hour later, Cochise was comfortably settled in the livery stable, and Joe was entering the Bucket of Blood, looking for a beer and a game of cards. He was in luck. Off to the side, a few of his friends were having a friendly game of poker. Signalling Sam to bring him a beer, he strolled over and joined them.

Time slipped by quickly, as it usually did when he was with his friends, and in what seemed like no time at all, Seth announced, “This will have to be my last game. It’s getting late.”

‘It is getting late,’ Joe mused, and as he contemplated his next move, he remarked, “This will have to be my last hand too.” 

‘Well, I’ll finish the night either as a fool or a great poker player,’ he decided, discarding one card. The dealer, regarding him curiously, dealt a replacement. Joe slowly lifted its corner, and delight surged through him. Great poker player, it was going to be! 

A few minutes later, as Joe raked in his winnings, Mitch, who had dealt the last hand, stared at him in disbelief. Shaking his head, he demanded, “Please don’t tell me you drew to an inside straight.”

“And won!” Joe grinned, then stood and took a bow. As he was gathering up his winnings, his hands suddenly went still. He had the oddest sensation that he was being watched. He glanced around the room, looking for the cause of his uneasiness, but everyone seemed to be engrossed in their own business. Shrugging it off, he turned his attention back to his companions.  

“Gentlemen,” he commented as he finished gathering up his winnings, “thank you for the game,” and smiling, he quit the saloon. 

He was making his way back to the livery stable, his thoughts on that last incredulous play, when he felt a searing pain in his back. His knees buckled, and he slowly sank to the ground. He attempted to rise and felt a ferocious kick to his stomach. Pain exploded in his midsection, and everything went black. He didn’t feel his night’s winnings being torn from his pocket. Nor did he feel himself being flung over a horse or, an hour later, being heaved unceremoniously into an old mine. 

When he regained consciousness a few hours later, he found his feet tied together and his hands secured behind his back. His whole body was one massive ache, and he felt warm, too warm. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself into a sitting position but the sudden movement caused him to feel dizzy and nauseous.  He sat still, taking shallow breaths until his head and stomach felt better. He then began to struggle with the restraints that bound his hands. He worked for what seemed like hours, trying to free them. But, despite all his efforts, the ropes refused to give. They were just too tight.

He glanced around the mine looking for something to cut the ropes with, or at least loosen them, and his eyes lit upon a pickaxe lying next to an old, decrepit ore cart. Hopefully, that would do the job. 

He eased himself over to the nearest wall, and pulling his feet closer to his body, he pushed himself up, gasping as his back scraped against the rock. 

Standing, he thought about his next move. With his feet tied together, he’d have to hop across the floor to the pickaxe. Steeling himself against the inevitable jarring of his stomach and back, he began the arduous journey across the mine floor. When he finally made it to the ore cart, he lowered himself to the ground. Reaching back, he scraped the ropes across the edge of the axe. He kept at it, sawing away at his restraints until the ropes shredded. His hands free, he untied his feet and stood. Using the cart for support, he gave himself a few minutes to collect his reserves and then began the long walk down the passageway.

Out in the open, the crisp, clean air cooled his warm flesh and swept the cobwebs out of his mind. He breathed in its freshness for a few minutes and then looked around. In less than no time, he had his bearings and began the slow-going journey down an old, overgrown trail. Consciously placing one foot in front of the other, he struggled along. 

He hadn’t gone far when something unnerved him. He stopped and stood motionless. He looked, he listened,  and his eyes darted from one spot to another. Then he heard it—a slight rattling sound. Keeping his body still, he scrutinized every inch of the area, looking for its source. A few seconds later he found it. Off to the side of the path, eight or nine feet in front of him, lay a sidewinder. Slowly and carefully, he backed up. Gradually, inch by inch, he moved off the path, never taking his eyes off the snake. 

Completely focused on the reptile, Joe didn’t see the log partially hidden in the grass. He tripped and crashed into a large pine, striking his head against the trunk. His vision blurred as he slid to the ground, and he sat there for a few minutes, waiting for his head to clear. Then, gathering together the little strength he had left, he struggled to his feet and slogged his way back to the path, well past the rattlesnake. 

He trudged along the trail, exhaustion and his injuries causing him to rest periodically. As he was leaning back, resting against a tree trunk twenty minutes later, his face lit up. There, a short distance ahead of him, was the road to Virginia City. He hobbled along the last bit of the trail and stepped onto the road. 

With a deep breath and a spark of hope, he began the trek to town. He pushed himself along relentlessly, but eventually his abused body refused to go any further. He stopped to rest, and as he leaned against an old pine, the trees started to dance around him. He closed his eyes and crumbled to the ground.     

When he came to, hours later, he was dressed in a nightshirt and lying on a soft bed. His eyes moved around the room until they came to a large man sitting in a not-too-comfortable chair. 

‘Hoss,’ he thought, ‘what was Hoss doing here? He was supposed to be having supper with Mary Lou.’ 

“Hey munchkin, how are you feeling?”

“Fine” he answered, but his pain filled face belied his words.

“Yeah, you look just fine too.” Hoss scoffed, placing the palm of his hand on Joe’s forehead. “Well, at least you feel cooler.” 

“How did I get here?” 

“An old prospector found you and brought you in.” Doc Martin explained as he entered the room. “How do you feel?”

“Fine, Doc, and I don’t need whatever it is you’re hiding by your side.” 

“Now what makes you think I’m hiding something?”

Scowling, and ignoring Paul’s question, Joe mumbled through closed lips, “When can I go home?”

“In about a month,”

“A month?” Joe exclaimed in horror, forgetting about the medicine that Paul quickly shoved into his mouth. 

“That was a dirty trick,” he growled at Doc Martin’s departing back.

“And it’s not funny,” he hurled at his laughing brother.

He lay on the bed and glowered at his older brother for a few minutes, then called out, “Hey doc, you were kidding about my being here a month, right?”

“Yes, you can probably go home tomorrow, provided the fever stays down,” Paul reassured him. “And you’re eating properly,” he added as he placed a lunch tray on Joe’s lap. 

“Thanks Doc,” Joe whispered and started in on the soup. 

Leaving Joe to eat his lunch, Hoss signalled to Doc Martin that he wanted to speak to him, and the two stepped into the adjoining room.  

“Are you sure he’ll be okay to come home tomorrow, doc? He’d never admit it, but he’s hurting bad.”

“I’ve no doubt he is,” Paul agreed. “And will be for the next few days. His stomach is badly bruised. He has a bump on his head, and I had to do some digging to clean out that knife wound in his back.” 

“How bad is the wound?”

“A knife wound is always serious, but it wasn’t too deep and didn’t hit anything vital. It should be fine.” Doc Martin reassured Hoss. “And yes, it’s okay to take him home tomorrow, barring complications. I’ll send along some pain medication. It’ll help him to sleep, and that’s what he needs right now.”

Early the next morning, Joe was staring down Doc Martin, and this time he wasn’t about to be tricked into opening his mouth. 

“Do you or do you not want to go home?”

Joe grumbled but took the disgusting concoction.

Paul turned to Hoss. “You’ll have to get a wagon or a buggy. I don’t want him riding a horse all the way to the Ponderosa. And make sure he stays in bed. I’ll be out sometime tomorrow to see how he’s doing.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Hoss, happy to be taking Joe home, went off to procure a wagon.

xxxxxxxxx

Five days later, Ben and Adam Cartwright returned to the Ponderosa.  

“Well, the barn’s still here.” Adam remarked as they bedded down their horses. “Shall we go see how the house fared?” 

Ben frowned at his oldest son but headed for the house.

“You go back to bed. You stay in bed till doctor say okay to get up.” Hop Sing’s voice easily carried through the thick door to Ben’s ears. 

“I’m fine, Hop Sing. The knife wound is almost healed, the bruises on my stomach have faded, and the bump is gone from my head. I’m sure Doc Martin only meant for me to stay in bed until I felt better. And I feel fine.” 

‘That was definitely Joe,’ Ben thought, ‘and that was Hoss laughing’.

“Anyone who draws to an inside straight doesn’t have enough sense to know whether or not he feels okay, little brother.”

“Hoss right, you no sense. You go back to bed.” Hop Sing argued.

“Knife wound, bruised stomach, bump on his head–I  don’t believe you forbade him to do any of those things,” Adam quipped. 

Ben growled something incomprehensible, and the two men entered the house. Adam headed towards Hoss. He wanted to find out more about that poker game. Ben escorted Joe up to his bedroom. He wanted to see those injuries for himself and to do a little lecturing, perhaps a lot of lecturing.

The End

The Shooting

by jfclover

Lucky is a man who finds love, but luck hasn’t been on my side.  When the sheriff came out to the house and asked if I would stand in for him for the next five days, I jumped at the chance.  Pa’s look of surprise was anticipated, although I wasn’t expecting him to shout, “No!”

Roy and I turned our heads in unison, but I spoke up first.  “Five days, Pa.  What can happen in five days?”

“I think you know the answer, Joseph.”

“That was Rubicon and a whole different scenario.  The sheriff isn’t planning some kind of heist, are you, Roy?”

“Of course not.”  Roy stepped toward my father.  “Joe’s old enough and smart enough for the job, Ben, but you already know that, don’t you?”

“I’d rather you didn’t, Son.”

I reached for my father’s arm and grabbed hold.  “No need to worry, Pa.  I’ll be fine.”

Chapter One

Since Roy had to catch the eight o’clock stage to Sacramento, I spent the night on a cot in one of his cells.  I wasn’t an early riser, and riding to town before dawn didn’t suit my fancy at all.  As I walked him down to the depot, he gave me a list of instructions to follow.

Roy Coffee was a black-and-white sheriff.  There were no gray areas.  The law was the law, and violators would be punished.  He had the same expectations of a weekend sheriff.  I agreed to fill in to the best of my ability, and he was satisfied that I could do the job.  As he rode out of town, I reviewed his list of dos and don’ts, and I was ready to go.

I needed to let a few of the townsfolk know I was in charge.  The banks and the major saloons were first on my list.  Then came the mercantile and millinery, the local seamstress and tailor.  Any place that might be easy to rob or where an unnecessary brawl might occur.  By the time I made the rounds, I was starved and slipped into Daisy’s Café for breakfast, and because I was acting sheriff, my platter of bacon and eggs was on the house.

“As much as I appreciate your kindness, Daisy, you don’t need to feed me for free.”

“But it’s my pleasure, Little Joe.  After all the money you’ve spent in here over the years, it’s the least I can do.”

“You were one of the first businesses on C Street.”

“I sure was.  Just a couple of months after the city was christened.  It’ll be ten years next month.”

“Really?  It doesn’t seem possible.”

“You were a wild one back then.  Your Pa or one of your brothers was always riding to town and dragging you home.”

“Yeah.  Fun times.”

Daisy and I went way back.  I remembered her wedding.  A joyous occasion, but it wasn’t long after that poor old Claude tripped over a tin can and broke his neck.  The whole town showed up for the funeral, and since no one had bought the café when Daisy tried to sell, she reopened and ran the place just as she had before.  With all of Claude’s money, she could’ve done anything she wanted, toured the world, or built a fine house in any major city, but this was her home, and this is where she wanted to stay.

After leaving the café, I wasn’t sure what to do next, so I strolled down the boardwalk to the office, sat down, and propped my feet on top of Roy’s desk.  In no time, I was sound asleep.  When I woke, I lowered my boots to the floor and sat up tall.  That was no way for a sheriff to act.

I didn’t know what Roy did all day.  When I found a stack of wanted posters in one of the desk drawers, I thumbed through them.  There were around twenty-five in all.  Murderers, horse thieves, bank robbers, stagecoach robbers – the list was endless.  There was even a lady killer nicknamed – Mac, Mac the Magnificent—a Canadian who found the States more appealing, and apparently, she excelled at her craft.

It was time for another stroll down the boardwalk.  This time, I made it as far as the Bucket of Blood and killed a half hour talking to Bruno.  I should have brought lengths of leather.  At least I could’ve fashioned some new lariats.  I was bored out of my mind and tried to think about what to do next.

The next three days were the same.  Stroll, eat, nap.  Stroll, eat, nap.  Virginia City had never been so dull or uneventful.  One more day like those three, and Roy could gladly have his town back.  I’d rather be busy on the ranch than sitting on my can all day doing nothing.

The final day had come, and I wanted to shout for joy.  Boredom isn’t my strong suit, and hanging around town with hundreds of saloons calling my name wasn’t fair either.  I wondered if Roy ever took time for a cold one.  Was it allowed? Heck, I was only a weekend replacement and this was my last night on the job, so what could one beer matter?

After eating a pleasant supper at Daisy’s—and leaving the amount owed on the table—I made my way to the Silver Dollar.  “How about a cold one, Sam?”

“Coming right up, Little Joe.”

I was the stand-in sheriff, and the bartender still used my childhood nickname. When would it ever end?  He set the beer down in front of me.  “No charge, Little Joe.”

I didn’t have the strength to argue.  “Thanks, Sam.”

Counting the hours until Roy’s stage pulled in seemed silly, but that’s exactly what I did.  By mid-morning tomorrow, I’d be a free man, head back to the ranch, and put my life back on track.

From the minute I put on the badge in Rubicon, my days were numbered, but Virginia City had been the complete opposite.  I had too much time to think.  Working hard kept a man’s mind off things he’d rather forget, but this week had been pure hell.  

My brain never let me forget what a fool I’d been and how the town reacted when I fought the deputy marshal in the middle of C Street.  I’d been duped by the best female liar in the world, taken in by her beauty and flirtatious ways.  She had my head spinning and my heart pounding, and then the dirty truth revealed itself just three months ago in front of half the town.

“That’s my wife.”

It’s a wonder anyone ever spoke to me again after all that went down that night.  Even Hoss was at a loss for words.  Men and women stared in disbelief as I walked away.  Joe Cartwright – wife stealer.  Shame wracked my entire body, and for the next several weeks, I didn’t leave the protection of the ranch.

When Roy called on me for the job, all was forgotten and possibly forgiven.  No one cared enough to give the weekend sheriff any trouble, and they could have.  They could’ve made my life a living hell.

I wanted to say it was over, but does a man ever get over a love like that?  Other lost loves come to mind on occasion, and forgetting anyone who passes through our lives remains part of us forever.  Even a wretched piece of work like Emily McPhail will haunt me till the day I die.

My daydream ended when loud shouts came from a poker player across the room.  A young man had risen from his chair and aimed his Colt at the fella across from him.  Eyes shifted in my direction as I loosened the loop of my pistol and meandered through the crowd toward a man who was unknown to me.

“Put the firearm away,” I said.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Holster the gun and walk away.”

“Get lost, Little Man.  This ain’t your problem.”

I pointed to the badge on my jacket.  “This says it is.”

Things happen fast when tempers flare and a man loses control.  My plan to talk him down failed, and when he turned his gun on me, I drew and fired.   As close as I was, my target didn’t stand a chance, but he tried anyway.  His pride wouldn’t let him back down, and he chose death instead of lowering his pistol and walking away.  Although it was a senseless killing, I had no choice.

Adrenaline took over.  I tried to hide the fact that every nerve was on high alert, and I was afraid to speak.  Would my voice betray me?  I found two people I knew and turned my attention to them.

“Jake?  Larry?  Would you carry him down to Doc’s?”

“Sure, Joe.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder.  “Ain’t nothing else you could’ve done, Little Joe.”

Sam tried to reassure me, but I’d just killed a man, a man younger than myself, a man with his whole life ahead of him.  I didn’t know his name or next of kin, but he’d have to be buried as soon as Doc filed an autopsy.  I’d ask around, but there were a fair number of men named John Doe lying on Boot Hill.

Killing was a sin.  My father believed that with all his heart.  Tomorrow, when my run as sheriff was over, I’d have to tell Pa and Hoss that I killed a man because of a silly dispute over cards.   Though I racked my brain, I couldn’t see how things could have turned out differently.

When I returned to the office, I scrubbed my face with both hands before writing down what happened so Roy would have an account of the day’s activities.  Though I’d tell him in person, this was just a backup with every detail I could remember written down on official paper.

The following morning, I met the stage and welcomed Roy home.  I was never so happy to see the grizzled old mustached man in my life.

“Welcome home, Sheriff.”  I extended my hand to greet him.  “Let me carry that bag for you.”

“Good to see you, Little Joe.  Everything go smoothly?”

“Pretty much.”

We started down the boardwalk.  “Problems?”

“Just one.  I’ll explain when we get  back to the office.”

Without hesitation or interruption from Roy, I told the story.  I showed him the paper with all the facts and said that the John Doe would be buried today.

“I’ll have to see the body, Son.”

“Let’s go.  He should still be at Doc’s.”

Back down the boardwalk, we went.  I opened Paul Martin’s door and we walked inside.  Roy took one look at the dead man and turned to me.

“Do you know who this is?”

Chapter Two 

I unsaddled my horse, thinking he’d be glad to see his stablemates, but all three were gone.  It was haying season, and everyone had a job to do.  Although I was disappointed and had hoped for a decent welcome home, I’d have to shelve that little fairytale and get on with my day.  Even my story about the shooting would have to wait until suppertime.

With everyone in the house busy, Hop Sing had gone for supplies.  He’d probably find a game of fantan while he was in Chinatown and return a wealthy man.  Though I should’ve met him on the road to Virginia City, I didn’t see anyone traveling back or forth, and since the day was half over, I didn’t think Pa would expect me to ride down to the fields to help, but he’d have me up bright and early tomorrow morning.  I could count on that.

Just like the last five days, I was on my own.  After making a sandwich, I headed out to the front porch to eat and wait for the family to ride up.  I propped my feet on the table and leaned back in the chair.  I’d nearly fallen asleep when a stranger on a red bay rounded the side of the barn and rode up into the yard.

With his hat dipped low on his forehead, I couldn’t make out his features.  Assuming he was a friend of my father’s, I stood from the chair and left the comfort of the porch to greet the man. 

“Are you Joe Cartwright?”

“I sure am.  What can I do for you, Mister?”

“You acquainted with a man named Jake Coons?”

My heart jammed into my throat.  I couldn’t speak if I wanted to, but I knew why the man had come.  I’d killed his brother, and he was out for revenge.  The shot came from close range, and the bullet forced me to the ground.  When I tried to bring my legs to my chest, I failed, and the outlaw fired again.

Chapter Three

“Ride for the doctor, Candy.  And hurry!”

“Hoss, carry your brother upstairs.”

Pa’s voice was a godsend, but I couldn’t form any words to thank him. I could feel the beat of Hoss’s heart as he hauled me inside, into the coolness of the house and away from the heat that threatened to burn me alive.  But the heat came back with a vengeance.  My entire body was on fire, and I pushed at the hands that held me down.

“God help me!”

“Easy, Joseph.  Lay still.”

“No!  Leave me be.” 

“You’re bleeding, Son.  I have to stop the bleeding.”

As much as I yearned for comfort in my father’s voice, it made no difference.  Pain radiated like the sun hitting a brick wall.  Sheer seconds passed in between violent tremors—over and over and over again until even my breathing became halted and shallow.  Nothing could quiet the hideous pain.

“How long do you think he lay out there, Pa?”

“It’s hard to tell.  The wounds are just seeping, but if Paul doesn’t get here soon, I fear …”

“I know it looks bad, but you can’t think like that, Pa.  Ain’t nothing bad gonna happen to my little brother.”

Chapter Four

“I brought the chair with me, Ben.  Maybe Hoss could carry it inside.”

“Are you sure he can’t stand on his own?”

“I’ve done everything possible.  The bullets severed the nerves in both legs, but you already know that, Ben, and you have to accept the fact that Joe will never walk again.  Do you want me to tell him?”

“I should be the one, Paul.”

I turned my head when Pa walked into my room.  It had been five weeks since the shooting, and maybe this was the day I’d be set free.  The wounds had been bad.  When Pa and the doc thought I was sleeping, they chatted like jaybirds, and all I ever heard Doc say was, “I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what he was sorry about.  I thought he did a fine job of patching me up.  The pain was gone.  I did as he asked and hadn’t tried to move off the bed.  I felt good for the first time in a long while and was more than ready to get on with my life.

“Doc’s downstairs.”

“Good.  Is he going to let me out of this dang bed?”

“Yes.”

I tried to shift my weight and slide my legs over the side, but I didn’t realize how weak I’d become.  I couldn’t move my legs an inch.  I glanced up at Pa.

“Seems I don’t have enough strength to—“

“Son …”

That little nerve that tingles at the back of your neck when something isn’t right flared up like a lit firecracker.  “What’s the matter with me?”

Pa sat on the edge of the bed.  He reached for my arm and gripped it tighter than necessary.  “The bullet severed the nerves in your legs.  Your right holds some promise, but Paul insists that it’s too early to tell.  He asked me to give you the facts and not raise your hopes for a full recovery.”

“What are you saying, Pa?”

“Paul brought a rolling chair out from—“

“You joking, right?  This is just a bad dream, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, Joe.”

I turned my head and faced the window.  The sky was blue with a few puffy clouds high above.  I pictured myself on the back of Cochise and realized that could never be.  Nothing would ever be the same again.  I was a cripple, a good-for-nothing pitiful human being that would have to be cared for until the day I died.  Maybe death would be a blessing for all.

“Why don’t I have Hoss help you downstairs?”

“You mean carry me, don’t you, Pa?  Carry me down in the mornings and carry me back up every night.  Carry me wherever the damn chair won’t go.  How about the outhouse, Pa?  Can I count on Big Brother for that, too?”

“I know this is difficult—“

“Difficult?  Is that what we call doing nothing for the rest of my life?”

“Let’s take things one step at a time, Son.”

“That’s funny, Pa.  Have you already forgotten that I’m the son who takes no steps?  That’s what it’s all about, you know.   You have a worthless son who can’t do for himself.  The crippled Cartwright boy.  ‘Poor Ben.’  That’s what they’ll all say.  Is that what you want?”

“Is that what you want, Joseph?  It sure sounds that way.”

“Just leave me be, Pa.”

“I’ll leave you be for now, Joseph, but I expect to see you downstairs for supper.”

“I don’t think you understand.”

“I understand plenty.  It’s you who has the problem, and it’s you who will have to make peace with the situation.”

“Fine.”  I turned my head.  The conversation was over.  Pa took the hint and left my room.

I didn’t make it down for supper that night, and I didn’t show my face for the next three days.  No one complained, and no one came to visit.  Hop Sing brought my meals, but he didn’t have time to chat.  It was a lonely existence, and I was darn sick of being alone, but that wasn’t all.  I’d be damned if I was going to spend the remainder of my life in a rolling chair.

Pa told me to figure things out, but I couldn’t find my way.  Nothing made sense anymore.  My life was over.  Joe Cartwright was as good as dead.

Chapter Five

Without waiting for an answer, a knock on the door brought my father into my bedroom.  “You have a visitor, Son.”

“I’d rather not see anyone.”

“It’s Mrs. McPhail.”

“What?  No, Pa.  I have nothing to say to that woman.”

“I understand, Joseph, but—“

“No.  Not today.  Not ever.”

“All right.  I’ll send her away.”  

My father started out of the room, but I called him back.  “Pa?  Help me get dressed.”

“Does that mean you’ll see her?”

“Yeah.  I’ll see her.”

I didn’t bother with boots.  Dressing was enough of a struggle.  I wasn’t about to greet the woman from my bed, and Pa helped me to my bedroom chair.  As far as I was concerned, Emily could stand.  This was one helluva social call.

Pa left, and I crossed my hands in my lap, but that was no good.  I tried resting my palms on the arms of the chair.  That way, I’d have something to grip rather than lose my temper.  Why in God’s name had I agreed to this?  Why had my father let her inside the house?

She knocked and just like my father, she walked in before I could speak.  “Hello, Joe.”

“Does your husband know you’re here?”

“No, but I—“

I held up my right hand.  “No explanation needed.  I’d offer you a seat, but I doubt you’ll be staying long.”

“Oh, that’s okay.  I heard about the accident.”

“It was no accident, Emily.  A man rode into the yard, shot me, and left me for dead.”

“Is it true … about your legs?”

“It’s true.  I’ll never walk again.”

“Joe, I’m sorry.”

“Go home, Emily.  There’s nothing for you here.”

Several minutes later, the front door closed behind her, and only moments after that,  Pa stood just inside my bedroom doorway.

“I’m ready to go downstairs.”

“I think Hoss is in the barn.”

Nothing more was said.  If my father thought Emily was the reason—in an odd sort of way— he was right.  After seeing her and hearing the pity in her voice, I was eager to get on with my life.  I wouldn’t be pitied by anyone, least of all a lying, cheating, miserable woman like Emily McPhail.

Chapter Six

My eyes welled with tears when I first laid my eyes on the cane-seated, wooden chair.  I should’ve been thankful to Paul for finding one so fast, but I wasn’t thankful at all.  The only thing that came to mind were crippled old men who were past their prime and a chair was a godsend.  I took no pleasure in dragging myself around while others walked and ran.

The first thing on my list was sending Cochise out to pasture.  Without a rider, he needed to be free.  He had a long life ahead of him, and he didn’t need to spend any more time with a man who’d never ride again.

Hoss stood beside me.  I hadn’t even said thanks.  Pa would say there was no need for rudeness, no matter what the situation might be.

“Thanks, Brother.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Joe.”

I ignored his comment and reached for the wheels of the chair.  Maybe I should name my slick new convenience Cochise II. It would take time to learn the ropes, but all I had was time.  I maneuvered the chair toward the front door.

“Let’s get some fresh air, Hoss.  I’ve been cooped up in this house for weeks.”

My brother smiled and opened the door wide.  I managed my first trip outside without any problem, but the porch was unreachable, and I began to see how things would work from now on.  There would always be limitations.  There would always be obstacles I couldn’t overcome.

“You’re doing real good, Little Brother.”

“Yeah … real good.”

“What’s the matter, Joe?”

“Nothing.  I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around with me.”

“Nope,  today, I’m all yours.”

“Was that Pa’s brilliant idea?  Lose two sons instead of one?”

“Huh?”

“It’s simple, Hoss.  I can’t do a day’s work, and if you’re my nursemaid, that’s two of us doing nothing and two new hands Pa will have to hire.”

“Don’t be silly.”

I stared at my worthless legs.  Life was so simple before I got shot.  If Roy hadn’t asked me to take his place, there’d be no chair and no worthless human being drifting through life without purpose.

“Wanna go see your horse?  He probably wonders what happened to you.”

“Not right now, Hoss.”

“Maybe later.”

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Sure.  What do you need?”

“I want you to set him free.”

“Do what?”

“Cochise.  I want him turned out.”

“You ain’t serious, are you, Joe?”

“Will you do that for me?”

“Yeah, but .…”

“Thanks.”

Having stared at the barn long enough, I turned the chair back toward the house.  Hoss was quick to catch on, and he opened the door so I could wheel myself inside.  I’d had enough fun for one day.

“It doesn’t make sense for me to live upstairs anymore.”

“You want to move down here?”

“I think that would be best, don’t you?  For God’s sake, Hoss.  You can’t be expected to haul me up and down the stairs every day.”

“Want me to bring some of your stuff down?”

“Sure.  Whatever you think a cripple might need.”

“Don’t talk like that, Little Joe.”

“I only speak the truth, Big Brother.”

Chapter Seven

Weeks passed, and we were heading for an early winter.  The last leaves of autumn clung to their branches when an early snow covered the ground in white.  Life was different now, and I began to notice things I’d always taken for granted.  Different smells and sounds were often the highlight of my day.  I found that some of Adam’s old books were a comfort to me, although I know he’d find humor in that simple revelation.

The crisis of losing all feeling in my legs was over.  I accepted my fate and was living my new life until that first snow, until I felt trapped and isolated, and unsettled by my surroundings.  I couldn’t explain it to Pa or Hoss or Candy.  I didn’t understand it myself.

I’d been a faithful churchgoer during the last few weeks.  Somehow, Pa talked me into accompanying him, and it turned out to be my big adventure of the week.  At times, I listened to our new, young preacher.  Other times, I might’ve dozed. That’s until Pa’s elbow slammed into my side.  Even at nearly thirty years old, my father didn’t hesitate to correct.

When Hoss and Candy heard that Pa and I were planning our first trip to church, the two of them raced into town and fashioned a ramp up to the back door.  The preacher thought it was a fine idea and invited the two of them to join me on Sunday mornings.  They usually had other plans, but I enjoyed time alone with my father.  

I’d built up enough strength that I could haul myself into the bed of our buckboard.  Pa would hoist the chair in beside me, and off we’d go.  We’d pull up to the back door early so I could get inside the building before the rest of the congregation gathered to watch the poor cripple maneuver his way to the side aisle.  Even though I’d lost most of my clumsiness, I still felt awkward and didn’t appreciate an audience gaping and snickering behind my back.

I hadn’t lost everything after the shooting.  I still had an eye for beauty, and the new, young organist was a very pretty lady.  It was hard not to stare, and there were times I had to divert my attention back to the preacher, where I should’ve been looking all along.  I didn’t need another dig from Pa’s elbow.

In the end, I knew better than to stare or even think I had a future with any woman.  I doubt looking was a sin, but I often rode home with sinful thoughts rummaging through my head, but a man could dream, and all I had left were dreams. 

Winter was a lonely time.  Hoss and Candy had jobs to do, and Pa had ledgers and finances to worry about.  When I overheard a conversation one night, I found that Pa had hired two men to fill my shoes.

At first, I wanted to strut like a peacock.  My value as a ranch hand proved that before the shooting, I’d been worth my weight in salt, but that was then, and this was now.  Because of me, Pa had to shell out an extra weekly paycheck, but life wasn’t fair, though I didn’t have the energy to dwell on things I couldn’t change.  I’d rather think about the lovely organist or how Cochise would fare amongst his own kind if I let him run free.

“Supper on table.  You eat now.”

Pa stood from behind his desk, and I rolled toward the table.  We knew better than to upset our cook.  My dining room chair had been removed and placed in my downstairs bedroom in case I was fortunate enough to have company.

“Where’s Hoss and Candy?”

“They planned to head into town once they finished with the livestock.”

“It must be Saturday.”

“It sure is.”

Pa and I filled our plates and dug in.   My brother was forgoing a good meal, but Hoss would never miss a meal entirely.  They’d get a bite in town.  It made sense to go that route if they were working closer to Virginia City than the house.  I couldn’t blame either of them for wanting a night on the town.  It’s what men were supposed to do.

I hadn’t asked Pa about church tomorrow.  Ice still covered parts of the roads, and my father wasn’t one to take chances.  I’d miss hearing the organist play, although it was time I got a hold of my feelings and quit thinking about her.  It was a useless dream, and it was high time I faced facts.  No woman wanted a cripple.  She’d have to be touched in the head to fall for a guy like me.

A Tale of Two Cities was this weekend’s entertainment.  Adam and Pa had read the story years ago, but my tastes were different then.  Of course, my elder brother made fun of my selections, but back then, I couldn’t wait to get my teeth into the newest dime novel on  Mr. Cass’s shelf.  Dastardly Dan and Frontier Mike.  Zebulon’s Winter Palace and Marvin the Marvel.  Those were the best, and I read each one at least ten times, mostly when I was laid up with a broken bone or a gunshot wound.  Someday I might have to count all the times I’d been shot, but it took only one irritated outlaw to change my life forever.

My shooter was never caught.  Even after Roy’s posse spent days in the saddle, he was still at large, still causing trouble, I suppose.  Ancient history.  I’d put the would-be killer out of my mind months ago.  There was no reason to dwell on a fella who may never be found.

We gathered in front of the fireplace on Sunday morning.  There’d be no outing, no weekly adventure, but a bit of excitement was thrown my way.

“Guess who we saw at the International House last night?”

“Where do you want me to start, Big Brother?”

“Never mind.  I’ll tell you or it’ll take all day.”

“Well?”

“Miss Carter.”

“Who?”

“Miss Carter, the organist.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“She asked about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.  She said you wasn’t in church last week.”

“Why does she care?”

“Don’t rightly know, Little Brother.  Guess you’ll have to ask her yourself.”

The look in Hoss’s eye was his way of goading me into seeking the lady out and having a little chat.  Perhaps he learned that from our older brother.  That sly little grin said it all.

“Not interested.”

“You don’t fool me none, Joseph.  I seen what pew you sit in and I seen you watching her play that organ.”

“I’m sure half the congregation watches her play.  Maybe you haven’t noticed, Big Brother, but she’s very good.”

“You might be right, Joseph, but I weren’t born yesterday.  I seen the look in your eye when you watch her, and it ain’t got nothing to do with musical talent.”

Pa blasted into the conversation.  “That’s enough, Hoss.” As he looked straight at Candy and Hoss, he stood from his overstuffed chair.  He wasn’t much for matchmaking, and he already knew what I knew.  No woman wanted a cripple. “Let’s get to bed, Boys.  We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

Chapter Eight

I’d never been an early riser, and with nothing to do most days, I didn’t see the point of watching the sunrise.  When Pa poked his head in to say they were leaving, I gave a quick wave and drifted back to sleep.

After months of practice, I could dress myself.  Pulling on boots was still a challenge, but when someone—maybe Doc—suggested I wear slippers, I practiced harder.  I may be a damn cripple, but I didn’t have to look like one.

Though I hadn’t mentioned the odd twinge I had in my right leg to anyone in the house, I wondered what it meant.  Was it an actual feeling or just a hopeful wish that maybe someday …

Hop Sing didn’t change the rules for me.  I was due at the table alongside everyone else, and when that didn’t happen, he carried on, but he’d throw his hands in the air and fix me whatever I wanted any time I wanted.

“What you want now?”  His bark was worse than usual.  I must’ve interrupted something important.

“Just coffee.”

“No eggs?  No bacon?  You sick?”

“No, I’m not sick.  Just not hungry.”

He handed me a mug of fresh coffee.  “You too pale.  Need fresh air.”

“It’s a bit chilly out there.  Maybe later.”

“Later is good.  Make sure you do what Hop Sing say.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Me and my mug rolled out of the kitchen.  It was too early in the day for yelling and too early to sit outside.  Even though it was nearly spring, the morning temperatures were still too cold for sitting on the porch doing nothing.

By noontime, it warmed up enough that I didn’t need my winter coat, and I took Hop Sing’s advice.  I headed outside, made my way up the ramp Hoss and Candy built, and rolled down to my usual spot. I wasn’t there five minutes before a rented carriage pulled up in the yard, and a woman disembarked.

Though I couldn’t stand, I rolled forward as a kind of greeting.  She walked right up to the porch and said, “Hello, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Miss Carter.”  Damn, she was a pretty woman.

“Since we’ve ever been properly introduced, I shouldn’t have come calling, but the reverend and I feared something might be amiss, and I volunteered to drive out.”

“I assure you that nothing is amiss.  It’s that my father isn’t fond of traveling to and from town on icy roads.”

“I thought that might be the case.”

“My apologies, Miss Carter.  May I offer you a seat?”

“Thank you.”  She gathered her skirts and walked up the ramp.  The chair to my left was the only other one on the porch, and she had to step around my footrests to get by.

“You’re new to these parts.”

“Somewhat, I guess.  My brother and I moved here a while back.  We’re originally from Missouri.”

What does your brother do?  Maybe I know him.”

Something in her facial expression changed.  Her smile faded, and she clutched her hands in her lap.  “My brother was killed in a shootout.  He wasn’t fast enough, and now he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I miss him more than you know.”

“It’s my fault.”

“What?”  She seemed surprised by my comment, and I needed to clarify.

“For asking so many questions.”

“Oh … yes …well, it’s all said now.  We don’t need to speak of it again.”

I never meant to upset her.  That’s the last thing I wanted to do.  “Could I take you to supper sometime … to make up for having such a big mouth?”

“That’s not necessary, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Call me Joe.  It may not be necessary, but I’d be honored to have the pleasure of your company.”

“All right,”

“Friday night?  Around seven?”

“That would be lovely.”

“One other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know where you live.”

Chapter Nine

It may sound strange, but I was scared to death.  Driving to town to pick up my date was my first solo outing.  Pa or Hoss or Candy had accompanied me everywhere over the last several months.  I’m sure my father was beside himself, but if I were ever to become independent, driving the carriage alone brought me a step closer to the life I used to have.

I couldn’t be Papa’s little boy forever.  It was time I found my way.  Life on a ranch wasn’t suitable for wheelchairs and cripples like me.  A job in town just might be the ticket.  Paul had mentioned the possibility of working a desk job, but at the time, I balked at the notion, although I was starting to see things clearly now.  I needed to feel useful.  I needed a purpose.

I prayed I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of … my God.  I didn’t even know her first name.  I was out of practice and felt like a fool.  After the debacle with Emily McPhail, I vowed never to date anyone again, but things change.  People change, and Joe Cartwright was willing to take another chance.  Pa always said that life was full of second chances, and I had decided to act on that theory.  Good or bad.  Right or wrong.  I was ready.  I needed to know that my life wasn’t over.

When I arrived at the widow McGee’s boarding house, I started to reach for my chair, but Miss Carter had seen me pull up and came waltzing out the front door as gay and carefree as a schoolgirl.

“Hello, Miss Carter.”

“Please call me Mary.”    

“All right.”

She seated herself next to me, a little too close by anyone’s social standards, but I had no complaints.  I enjoyed the feel of a woman beside me, even if I couldn’t actually feel anything but a bit of warmth.  It seemed an odd thing to think about, but I don’t remember feeling any hot or cold sensation after the shooting, but my mind had a way of playing tricks.  I had a beautiful woman sitting next to me, and the feeling of warmth was nothing more than a pleasant memory.

I picked a restaurant where I could maneuver the chair without difficulty.  The tables weren’t packed in like sardines, and Alfonse was a good friend.  He’d make sure I was seated without much hassle.  

“How does a good steak sound?”

“Delicious, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Whoa.  It’s just Joe.  None of that mister business tonight.”

“Okay … Joe”

Without too much difficulty, I got into the chair and rolled up on the boardwalk.  I wanted to pat myself on the back for a job well done, but it was too early in the evening to think that nothing bad could happen.

Conversation with Mary came easy.  Though she didn’t tell me much about her life before moving to Virginia City, I felt we got on better than expected.  First dates were normally awkward and often embarrassing for one or both parties, but I found her charming, and most of all, she had a great sense of humor.  If Hoss could join our table, he’d be roaring with that barrel-chested laughter that could shake windowpanes.

We talked until I noticed Alfonse turning the key in the front door.  He wanted to close, and we were the only patrons left in his restaurant.

“It’s time to go.”

Mary glanced around the room and drew her hand to her lips.  “Oops.  I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

I laid a few extra coins on the table and rolled toward the door.  “Thanks for everything, Alfonse.”

“You and your lady friend are welcome any time, Joe.”

Hoisting myself into the carriage wasn’t as easy as getting out, but I managed without incident.  I was due another pat on the back, but that would have to come later.  Right now, I was interested in making a good impression and nothing more.

When I pulled up in front of the boardinghouse, Mary took hold of my hand and smiled.  “I had a wonderful time, Joe.”

Though I tried to contain my excitement, I’m sure it showed through in spades.  I felt as giddy as a young man testing the waters with his first love.  I’d been afraid to put myself in a situation like this, but Mary had boosted my confidence more than I ever expected a woman could.

“May I see you again?”

“I’d love that.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

“Two o’clock?”

“I’ll be ready.”

As much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare lean in for a kiss.  Patience was a virtue, but it was a hard one to swallow.

I didn’t roll into a quiet house.  In fact, as soon as I drove into the yard, Hoss flew out the front door.  “Let me help you, Little Brother.”

I wasn’t about to turn down his offer.  I was bone tired and couldn’t unhitch the buggy alone anyway.  “Thanks, Brother.”

There wasn’t a question in my mind that Hoss wanted to hear every detail of my first excursion alone, but he’d have to wait till we were inside.  I could picture Pa and Candy trying to give the impression that they weren’t interested, but I knew they were also wanting to hear a minute-to-minute report of my first evening out since the shooting.

Hoss pushed me across the yard.  In the beginning, I balked at anyone wanting to help me, but I grew weary of always being disagreeable and had grown to appreciate a helping hand.

“How’d everything go, Son?”

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” Hoss bellowed.  “Just okay?”

“Better than okay.”

“Come on, Little Joe.  Me and Pa and Candy’s been waiting all night to hear about that little gal.”

“You’re saying you had nothing better to do than sit around waiting for me to come home and tell tales about a nice girl like Mary?”

“Doggone it, Joe.  You know what I mean.”

“I had a good time.  I’m seeing her again tomorrow.  End of story.”

When my brother glanced at Pa, my father’s lifted eyebrow told Hoss to give up his interrogation and move on to something else.

“How ‘bout a game of checkers, Joe?”

“Not tonight, Hoss.  I’m tired.  I’m going to bed.”

As I rolled toward my bedroom, I listened to everyone’s “good nights” and waved my hand over my head just before exiting the room.  I wanted to lie in bed and remember everything that was said between Mary and me.  I didn’t need to let on to the family, but I was a very lucky man.

Chapter Ten

Hop Sing was a man of many talents.  When I said I needed food for a picnic with a young lady, not only did he climb out of bed early to fry an entire chicken, but he also set me up with wine and cheese and fresh-cut vegetables—more than I ever asked for.

Mary and I lay side by side on a blanket by the lake.  I could almost pretend my legs weren’t useless, but, of course, they were and always would be.  My goal was to find the positives in life, but there were times like these where I couldn’t get past the negative, where my mood would change in an instant, where the dark took over the light, and I withdrew from everything around me.

When Mary squeezed my hand and asked if I was all right, I realized what had happened.  “I’m sorry.  My mind … I’m sorry.”

I embarrassed myself in front of a woman I was trying to impress.  She’d have the wrong impression of me before our courtship even began, and if she agreed to see me again, I might call it a miracle.  We talked long into the afternoon, and I got a real feeling of how her life had been before moving to Virginia City.

“We were dirt poor, Joe.  There were days when my brother and I weren’t fed anything but boiled roots.  Fatback was a luxury, and a real piece of meat was nonexistent.  We slept on wooden pallets that kept us inches from the dirt floor.  When rain fell, Ma set out buckets to catch the water and keep the floor dry so we wouldn’t catch our death.

“My father left the family in ’59 to fulfill his dream and find gold in Colorado.  He fancied being rich, and maybe he was, but he never had the urge to share any of that wealth with his family.  We never saw him again.

“There’s not much more to tell, Joe.  When Mother died, my brother and I headed west.  He’s all I had.  He meant the world to me, but he’s dead, and I can’t bring him back.”

“Life isn’t always fair, Mary.”

She turned on her side and stared straight into my eyes.  “Have you ever killed a man, Joe?”

God, how I wanted to say no, but I couldn’t lie to her.  “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“More than one?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you what they call a fast gun?”

“Fast enough, I guess.”  I raised up on my elbow.  “Why don’t we change the subject?  This isn’t the type of conversation a man wants to have with a lady.”

“How many men have you killed?”

“I thought we changed the subject.”

“I need to know.”

“Why?”

“You won’t tell me?”

“I don’t know the answer.”

She looked away.  “That many …”

“No!  Not that many.  It’s not something I’m proud of, and it’s not something I want to discuss.”

“Whatever you say.”

“That’s what I say.  Now, would you like something to eat?  There’s plenty of fried chick—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“A glass of wine?” 

“I want to go home.  I’m not feeling well.”

What the hell just happened?  Hop Sing will have my hide if I return with all this food and try to explain why we didn’t find joy in all his early morning labor.

“Please.  Maybe the wine will—”

“No.  Take me home.”

She stood and busied herself straightening her skirt and adjusting the jacket she wore despite the warmth of a sunny summer day.  Standing and stomping away from her seemed like a dream come true; instead, I hauled myself into my chair and then reached down for the blanket.   She must’ve realized I couldn’t carry everything, and—in a huff—she snatched up the basket of Hop Sing’s uneaten food.

Nothing more was said about the violence of gunfights and death.  Nothing was said at all.  I dropped her off at the boardinghouse and left without saying a word.  The two-day relationship had run its course.  I handed Hoss the reins when I returned.  He happened to be in the barn, but I doubt he was expecting me this early in the day.   

“Hey, Joseph.  How’d it go?”

“It’s over.”

“What?”

I didn’t bother to explain. I rolled into the house and straight into my room.  Even though I heard Pa scoot back from his desk, I shut the door behind me.  My life wasn’t worth a plug nickel, but the family didn’t need to know everything.

As I twisted both legs to shed myself off the chair, a sharp pain— more like a cramp—grabbed at my right hip and knotted up the back of my leg.  I reached behind me and tried to ease the tension, but the muscle took its own sweet time to relax.

I didn’t know what to think.  This was something new.  Unlike the twinge I had a few days ago, I reveled in the fact that I actually felt pain.  Real live pain, but what did it mean?  How could I feel a cramp when my legs had been numb and useless since the shooting?

I could’ve rolled into the living room and told Pa, but what if this was normal and Doc had forgotten to mention such things?  What had I been told, and what was believable fantasy?  I was so put out by Mary’s and my conversation that everything became chaotic in my head.  Did the cramp even exist?  Damn if I could set things straight.

Chapter Eleven 

Morning came, and I asked Hoss if I could tag along.  I didn’t want to be alone all day with my thoughts. “Happy to have you, Little Brother.”  Repairing fence was a tedious chore that no one wanted but had to be done.  Cattle were our main source of income, and keeping the beeves contained and the rustlers at bay was a full-time job.  

When Hoss finished filling the wagon, he left room for my chair at the back of the bed.  Always the chair.  It wasn’t just tiresome for me; it was a chore for everyone, but my brother never said a cross word.  It wasn’t his nature to complain.

I wanted to say something on the way out, and I tried to tell him at lunch, but when the day was done and we’d pulled into the barn, I was ready to talk.  “Something happened last night.”  I felt like I was confessing a sin.

“What’s that, Little Joe?”

Hoss wouldn’t stand still.  He pulled at the harness and released the restraints from our matching pair of grays.  I couldn’t wrangle my thoughts into a comprehensive story while he was busy moving this way and that.

“Would you stop a minute?”

“Huh?”

“Stop what you’re doing.”

‘Okay.”  The sheepish look on my brother’s face nearly made me laugh, but the subject was too serious to give in to distraction.

“I had a cramp.”

His confused look was even worse.

“In my right leg.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do.  It means you got feeling in that leg.  It means it ain’t useless no more.”

“I can’t imagine—”

“You better start imagining, Joe.  Have you told Pa yet?”


“No, and I don’t want you saying anything either.”

“But this is good news, ain’t it?”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to get Pa’s hopes up if it’s nothing.  Maybe my legs are supposed to cramp.  I don’t know.”

“You need to see the doc.”

“I know, and I will.”

“Tomorrow.  I’ll drive you in.”

Supper was a quiet affair.  Hoss was dying to say something to Pa, but I had faith that he’d keep his new knowledge to himself.  I climbed into bed earlier than usual.  No one had asked about Mary, and I’d put her on the back burner anyway.  I didn’t need someone hounding me about unpleasant times I’d rather forget.  No one finds killing a man a glorious moment except for a gunslinger with another notch on his gunbelt, but as much as she made me out to be one of them, I wasn’t.

The first cramp had me grabbing the back of my leg, but I considered it happy pain.  If Hoss was right …  how could I get my hopes up when Paul Martin said I didn’t have a prayer of walking again?  The second time my right leg seized, it brought tears to my eyes.  Not happy tears though.  I don’t ever remember hurting like that before.  Maybe I had, but the thought of a cramp catching me off guard and causing such agony left me breathless.  I’d see Doc Martin tomorrow and let him explain the strange events.  Hoss and I were wasting time guessing.

Chapter Twelve

“I’m glad you came to see me, Joseph.”

Hoss pressed his fist on top of Paul’s desk.  “What’s it all mean, Doc?”

Paul glanced at me before he answered.  “Of course, I can’t be sure, but we should all think positively.”

Looks of bewilderment passed between Hoss and me as we waited for more of an answer.  “I’m very happy to hear this, Son, and this is what I want you to do …”

By that afternoon, Hoss had become my faithful nursemaid.  Since exercises and bouts of heated cloths were part of the process, my father had to be told.  Candy was in on the festivities, too.  He seemed to enjoy the part about slapping on hot rags that warmed the muscles before Hoss jerked my legs back and forth like he was sawing lengths of firewood.  

I put up with their snarky remarks about my skinny, white legs and kept my temper to a minimum.  As if either of them had legs anyone would call pretty.  Those comments should be left for the ladies rather than healthy young men whose future was on the line.

The exercises were unpleasant.  I held my breath until Hoss noticed my puffy, red face and told me I might want to breathe.  Hot and miserable.  Back and forth.  The ordeal was exhausting, but I could feel the pain, and that’s what got me through the first day.

My legs had been useless for months, but when I gave in to my disability, my world became less challenging, not only for me but for the family too.  My anger subsided as I eased into a structured way of life, learned my limitations, and realized that although my reality had changed, I was still a living, breathing human being.  No longer would my family coin the phrase the Joe Cartwright tragedy.  I created a new chapter.

Today, my chapter expanded to hope, and with hope, there were endless possibilities.  Candy and Hoss worked as hard as any two men on God’s green earth to bring that hope alive. I needed to be thankful for men who cared enough to see this thing through.

My father was so pleased to see his sons working together for a common cause.  No one wanted me to remain a cripple, but I was part of the action and making a contribution.  I felt good, but I kept my emotions at bay.  I didn’t want to blow out the candles before Hop Sing baked the cake.

The routine had been set up for twice a day.  Doc said at this point, he couldn’t see the harm.   Even though I wasn’t in pain, tattered nerves appeared to lie right under the surface and were itching to get out.  My mind often played tricks.  I thought I felt pain.  I wanted to feel pain, but it wasn’t there.

By the end of the first week, I’d begun to lose hope.  Nothing had changed.  Nothing had happened at all, but Hoss and Candy cheered me on.  Although each of them acknowledged that my mood had darkened, they never gave up.  With every twice-daily session, they drove me harder than the day before.  Maybe I didn’t see a happy ending, but those two did.

Since my exercises came before and after a long day’s work, Pa had to pick up supplies and stop in for the mail, a chore that normally fell on Hoss’ or my shoulders.  He asked me to go with him, but I begged off, saying I was too tired to sit for hours on the seat of a wagon.  One day, when he returned, he rifled through the mail and handed me a letter.  It smelled of perfume.  

With no return address, the missive was a mystery correspondence until I ripped the envelope open and began reading.

Dear Joe,

You must think me a fool for egging you on like I did the last time we were together.  You planned an outing by the lake, and I ruined a beautiful day by insisting on an answer that didn’t matter one way or the other.

I hope you’ll accept my apology.  I was wrong to press you as I did.  It was uncalled for and upset us both.  If you’ll see me again, I promise things will be different.

Your friend,

Mary

After slipping the letter into my shirt pocket, I rolled to my room.  I had a lot to consider, and I couldn’t think with a crowd of men wondering who penned the letter and what was said.  Whether they got a whiff of the scented missive, I wasn’t sure, but it would keep them wondering far into the night.

Chapter Thirteen

Two weeks had passed and I wondered if the rotation of hot cloths and aggressive movements would do a damn thing for my legs.  Had Doc been wrong?  Had he given me false hope?  

As soon as Candy finished with the heat, Hoss started in.  He bent my knee to my chest, then pulled it out straight.  Bend.  Straight.  Bend.  Straight.  Over and over.  After sitting a saddle all day and then having to bend over me had to be the worst job in the world.

“Only three more, Little Brother.”

I hadn’t even thanked him for spending half of his downtime working my legs.  Bend.  Straight.  Bend.  Straight.  Relax.

“That’s all for today.”  Hoss stood and reached down to help me up off the floor.  “Give me your hands, Joe.”

I lifted both arms, and without thinking, my right knee bent as if pushing up was as normal as it had been before the shooting.  We stared at my leg.   The bewildering circumstances had us speechless.  That’s until Hoss started laughing.

“What the heck?”

“Pull me up,  Brother.”

After hauling me to my feet, Hoss wrapped his arm around my waist, and we stood there like a couple of fence posts that weren’t sure what to do next.

“Do you got weight on that leg?”

“Yeah.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You wanna sit?”

“No.”

“You wanna take a step?”

“Sure.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

My left leg wasn’t progressing as fast as my right, and neither could hold my weight. A cattleman’s life counted on having two working legs.  Breaking broncs and riding fence.  Chasing wild mustangs and ornery steers.  Every cowboy’s chore was done on the back of a horse. 

My leg didn’t move forward by itself.  It needed urging, and that was up to me.  The dang thing had bent by itself, so why wouldn’t it take that first step?

“I can’t.”

“Sure, you can.  Try again.”

Pa and Candy came to watch the circus clown perform, but nothing happened.  My leg wasn’t cooperating with my brain, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.  I had disappointed everyone, and their expectations were shot all to hell.

“Get the chair, Hoss.”

I rolled out to the front porch and prayed no one would follow.  Misery didn’t need an audience, and after trudging up the ramp, I turned my face to the setting sun and leaned my head back against the woven cane.  I tried and failed.  Hopefully, the family would see things my way and not insist on a promise of victory that would never come.

Before I could dwell any longer on my misfortune, Mary came to mind.  I’d tucked her letter away and let the memory of her pretty face escape to places unknown.  Like everything else, she became part of my past.  A life without hope.  A life without love.  A life with no future.

Chapter Fourteen 

After Hoss hitched the buggy, he attached my chair to the back.  “I won’t need that, Brother.”

“You sure?  You never know.”

“Not this time.”  I needed time away, time to think and brood without worrying that someone might interrupt my thoughts with their positive attitude.  I was tired of putting on a happy face every time I entered a room.

Pa followed me out to the porch the night before and tossed out the same list of platitudes.  “Maybe next time.  Don’t give up hope.  It takes time.”  I’d heard them all before, and I’d grown tired of the constant barrage.  I’d given up almost a year of my life.  What did he want from me?  What did he expect?

He wanted me whole again.  Well, damn it.  So did I, but wanting wouldn’t get the job done.  Praying wouldn’t either, and my father prayed every night.  If his god couldn’t perform a miracle, how could a mortal like me?

The breeze kicked up as I drove down a road that aligned with the lake.  There was nothing more beautiful than staring out over clear, blue water, and I needed a distraction.  The lake had always been the right place to reflect on life and on my future.  If I included Mary in that future, were we doomed for more harrowing arguments?

Before I knew what had happened, she’d put me on the defensive.  She invoked an anger I hadn’t let show since my youth.  Hammering away at a man isn’t a good trait to have, and I didn’t appreciate being thrust into a corner with no way to come out fighting.

Gunfights happen.  Backed into a corner like Mary had done with me is how men died.  Battle lines are drawn, and before the war is over, one of those men lies dead on the ground.  Whether it was a simple conversation or flagrant curiosity, I’ll never know, but I’ll never forget how that made me feel.

The smart little breeze turned into gale-force wind, and I pulled the carriage to a stop near an outcropping of boulders.  If I’d been anyone else, I would’ve climbed out and tried to calm the horse, but cripples weren’t like everybody else.  Cripples stay seated, gathered the leather fabric with both hands, and pray for a miracle.

But Joe Cartwright didn’t always follow the rules.  After securing the reins, I turned in the seat before lifting my left and then my right leg onto the running board.  I eased both legs closer to the ground before maneuvering myself to follow.  In the end, my boots hit the sandy soil, and I was standing.

The involuntary smile didn’t last long, and when I tried to move my right leg forward—still holding onto the buggy with a firm grip—success didn’t come.  The leg refused to move, and I was trapped neither here nor there.  I’d positioned myself in no man’s land.  And then I got mad.

“Move, you son-of-a-bitch!”

Lightning streaked the sky with a fury, and the resounding crack of thunder sent the horse charging down the length of the lake and beyond.  Having no choice, I had to let go, and that’s when the miracle happened.  I remained standing, but what came next?  My crippled legs held me erect for the first time in nearly a  year.  I wanted to praise my father’s god.  I wanted to sing Hallelujah!  But I’d come to a junction.  Which way should I go?  Do I fall to the ground, or do I try to move forward?  Those were my options, and I adjusted my mind toward the latter.

“Easy, Joe.”

My voice didn’t hold much confidence.  A skittish horse would’ve paid more attention than my useless brain.  But I was standing.  I had to remind myself of the miracle.  If only I had a stick or a chair, even a table to lean on, maybe I could lift my leg, but I had nothing, no way to regain my balance.

My arms should be of some use, but what could they do but flail uselessly?  I’d wasted enough time thinking, and I scooted my right boot an inch, maybe two, across the sandy soil.  My arms behaved in accordance, and with my knees locked, I did the same with my left until, inch by inch, I was able to lean against the outcropping.

Every breath signaled my weakness, but there wasn’t any pain.  My legs could be strong again.  I could feel each muscle aching to be of service, but my situation at the moment was dire.  I was miles from the house.  The horse had run off and left me with nothing.  God knows I couldn’t walk that far.

Chapter 15

 I had to give in.  The driving rain got the best of me, and I took cover under the outcropping.  If I were lucky, the horse headed back to the barn, and the obvious would be assumed.  Just how long it would take my brother and Candy to mount up and start a search was one of life’s mysteries.

My jacket and trousers were drenched.  I was soaked to the skin, and dusk brought on a chill I could’ve done without.  My good fortune had taken a back seat to the storm.  If the weather had held, maybe I could’ve found a stick to lean on and followed the dang horse home, but I was only dreaming.  I was at least three miles from the house, not an easy walk for a man with two useless legs.

I tipped my hat lower on my forehead, and a stream of water poured down my jacket.  “Smart move, Joe.  Any other brilliant ideas?”

I pulled my jacket closer around my neck, but with everything so wet, it didn’t do much good.  I needed to be rescued.  I didn’t want to spend the night hovering under boulders that were too old and unforgiving to do me much good.

Lightning grazed the sky, and thunder came roaring through like a steam engine traveling across the prairie.  I pressed my back tighter against the rock and shivered.  My brother always said I didn’t eat enough, and I was beginning to think he was right.  A little more fat on my bones and maybe I wouldn’t be freezing my butt off in the middle of nowhere, but darkness was the real enemy.  There’d be no moon or stars to show my brother the way.  Pounding rain had washed away any tracks the buggy would’ve left, and I hadn’t made a point of telling anyone my plans for the afternoon. Would anyone think to look by the lake?

A normal routine wasn’t part of my makeup since the shooting.  I was home-bound, tied to my chair with no reason to leave except Pa’s insistence that I attend services on Sundays, where, of all places, I met Mary.  Leaving the house seemed necessary if I were to court a woman properly, and it did me good to venture out.  Everyone said so.  Said my disposition improved, but they were sidestepping the obvious.  I was always a better man when a woman entered my life.

I drove this direction to consider my options, to decide whether to continue my relationship with Mary or not.  Somewhere along the way, the thought came to me that everyone should have a second chance.  God knows I’ve had my share of second chances.  Hell, the shooter left me for dead, but I’m living proof that I deserved a second chance.  Of course, when I developed pneumonia from sitting outside in the rain, my second chance might’ve been for naught.    

“Joseph!”

The sound was faint, but nothing ever sounded better than my brother’s booming voice.

“Hoss!”

“Joe?”

“Down here!”

Hooves drew closer, and as my brother approached, I inched my way up the face of the rock and stood like a real man.  Both knees were locked in position, and I waited.

“Joseph?”

“Hoss!”

Chubby stopped in front of me, and my brother dismounted.  Candy followed right behind and did the same.

“We saw the buggy about a mile back, but the horse had broken away and made his way back to the barn nearly two hours ago.

“Lightning scared him.  Took off like a banshee.”

“Hey.  You’re standing!”

“That’s right.  I’m also freezing to death.  Think we could head home now?”

“Let’s get you up behind Candy.”

“I’ll need a little help.”

“Don’t worry none.  I gotcha.”

Candy removed his slicker and threw it over my head.  “Here.  You need it more than I do.”

““`

I was coddled and fussed with for over an hour after we returned home.  Pa was beside himself.  I should’ve realized he would be, and I tried to calm his fears.

“I’m fine, Pa.  Just a little wet.”

Hustled into a nightshirt, dressing gown, and slippers, I was moved close to the fire to warm up.  Hop Sing brought cup after cup of hot coffee, and Pa never left my side. 

Hoss knew better than to say anything about seeing me stand when he and Candy arrived at the outcropping.  We’d talked about it earlier, and he understood my wishes. Filling my father full of lost hope was the last thing I wanted to do, but when I was sure I was whole again, he’d be the first to know.

Had it been fate or providence?  Had I anticipated such an occurrence and not realized?  I’d left my chair at home.  It wasn’t in the back of the buggy where it was normally stored when I left the house.

It’s funny how things work out.  Although I didn’t know how long it would take, I knew my brother would find me and get me home.  As soon as he saw Comet head for the barn, he would’ve saddled his horse and taken off.  If I knew my father—and I knew him well—he didn’t want Hoss riding alone at night, and Candy had no choice but to saddle up and ride through the wind and rain to give Hoss a second pair of eyes.

My only thoughts before I closed my eyes and fell asleep that night were about Mary.  Tomorrow I would remedy the situation.  Her letter was encouraging, and if she’d take me back, I was ready for round two.

Chapter Sixteen

“Where are you heading this early, Son?”

“To town.”

“I don’t mean to interfere, but you know the roads are a mess.  Is this task so important that you can’t wait an hour or two?”

“To be honest, Pa, I hadn’t given the roads much thought.”

My father rounded his desk and sat on the arm of the settee. My whole family used little tricks like sitting rather than standing to make me feel more comfortable about my condition, although as much as I appreciated their efforts, it only made things worse.  It made me realize how different my life was from theirs.

“What’s so important in town, Joseph?”

“Mending fences.”

“Mary?”

“Yeah.  I didn’t like her choice of discussion, and I’m afraid my temper got the best of me.”

“I’m sure you’ll work things out.”

“I hope so.”

I did as Pa suggested and waited an hour.  Hoss and Candy were heading out too, and Hoss hitched the buggy.

“Anything else, Little Brother?”

“No, but thanks.  Looks like I’m good to go.”

Pa walked into the barn just in time to lift my chair into the buggy.  “Thanks, Pa.  I should be home before supper.  If I’m not, you’ll know things went well, and I’m taking Mary out to some fancy restaurant.”

“Take care, Son.  Oh, and good luck.”

“Thanks.”

The roads had dried, but the deeper ruts were more pronounced than before.  I dodged what I could, although there were always some that sent me airborne.  I was in too good of a mood to let a rough road sour my disposition, and in no time, I pulled up in front of the widow’s boarding house, but before I could fasten the reins, old Mrs. McGee slipped out her front door.

“Is that you, Joe Cartwright?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You looking for Miss  Mary?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“She ain’t here.”

“Do you know where she might be?”

“Last I saw, she took off down the hill.”

I was a bit confused.  The only thing downhill from the boardinghouse was the graveyard and six-mile canyon.  “You sure she went that direction?”

Her hands flew to her hips, and she gave me an exasperated scowl.  “I got no reason to lie.”

“Yes, Ma’am.  I didn’t mean …”

“Be off with you then.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I moved the carriage forward and wondered if I should look down the hill or come back another day.  Since I wasn’t expected, I couldn’t get in a huff because she had plans of her own.  As far as she knew, the courtship had run its course.  There was no good reason for her to think I’d show up at her door unannounced.

Moving at a gentle pace gave me time to scan the countryside.  While tall, magnificent pines were left for mountain dwellers to admire, Virginia City was just the opposite.  Along with cloudless skies, the wide-open space forced a man to appreciate the vastness of the dry, dusty landscape.  Though it didn’t take long, I spotted a woman making her way up to C Street.  I might not have known Mary well, but I knew the dark silhouette was the woman I came to see.

“May I offer you a ride, Miss Carter?”

“Joe?”

“At your service, Ma’am.”

I held out my hand and helped her into the buggy.  She didn’t shy away; in fact,  she scooted so close that her hip touched mine, and every feeling a man has when he sits next to a pretty woman coursed through me like a speeding bullet.  Why the heck bullets came to mind irritated me.  Killings and death were behind us … at least I hoped so.

“Have you eaten lunch?”

“No.  Have you?”

“No, but if you’ll join me, I could be persuaded to have a bite.”

“Mr. Cartwright.  I’d be honored.”

I drove down to Daisy’s.  The food was good, and no one had to put on airs.  We could be ourselves and enjoy our time together without pretense.  We each ordered “The Special.”  Daisy assured us we wouldn’t be disappointed, and she was right.  The meal exceeded my expectations, and although Mary wasn’t too talkative, she seemed to enjoy our time together.  Whether we could get that brilliant ray of sunshine back into the relationship, I wasn’t sure.  I was willing to try almost anything, but Mary was so quiet, I couldn’t pretend to know what she was thinking.

When we got situated back in the buggy, Mary wrapped both hands around my left arm.  She snuggled as close as a woman could be to a man without sitting on my lap.  Part of me felt threatened by her aggressive behavior, while a larger part was thrilled at the prospect of what lay ahead if the courtship progressed.

“Can we drive out to the country, Joe?  Get away from all the bustle and noise?”

“Your wish is my command.”

I clicked the horse into a trot and did my best to leave the city behind, but for reasons I’ll never understand, I thought of Emily and the short drive that led me into one of the worst nights of my life.  The embarrassment of finding out the truth in front of the entire town led me to accept Roy’s wish that I become a weekend sheriff, which ended up placing me in a rolling chair.

Were those days coming to an end?    Were my legs going to cooperate and be useful again?  I hadn’t said anything to Pa or Mary, and neither of them would be the wiser until that magical day arrived.

As the horse cantered down the dusty road, Mary began a conversation I didn’t think was necessary.  “I want to apologize again for acting so poorly the last time we were together. It was never my intention to let things go that far.  I’m truly sorry, Joe.”

“It’s water under the bridge.   Nothing more needs to be said.”

“I don’t know what got into me; I couldn’t seem to stop.”

I heard sorrow reflected in her voice, and I wanted to say the right thing, but without rehashing killings and death, what could I say?  I drove out to Kingston’s meadow, a handsome parcel of land where sunsets were a splendor worth waiting for.  We arrived early and would have plenty of time to talk or putter around like a normal couple before the sun went down.

My brothers had found me here, showing off the sunset to another young lady years ago.  Whereas I saw no problem, my father did and sent my old-maid aunts out looking for me.  I was sixteen years old, and I’d heard Adam mention the meadow.  I figured if it was good enough for him ….

I was nearly twice that young man’s age, and the meadow still held the same magic it did when I was a boy.  I’d brought several young ladies riding this way, and every girl and every time was special.

“Here we are.”  I tied the reins, and Mary was kind enough to jump out and get my chair.  “Thanks.  Life is easier with a helper.”

I rolled forward a couple of feet and realized I hadn’t thought things through.  There was nowhere for Mary to sit.  No blanket.  Nothing.  But it wasn’t a problem at all.  Like a feather, she slid onto my lap and wound her left arm around my neck.  In turn, I slipped my arm around her back and held her close.

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me again how many men you’ve killed.”

Not only was I exasperated by her pointless question, I wanted to dump her on the ground and roll back to the buggy without her. 

“I thought we put that subject to bed.”

“I’m afraid not.  I’m also afraid you’ve killed your last man.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

With hate in her eyes, she stood from my lap, pulled a .45 from her coat pocket, and leveled the man-sized revolver at my chest.

Her voice was slick with venom.  “You killed my brother.”

Every nerve in my body twitched, and every muscle tensed in anticipation.  “I did what?”

“You heard me.”

“Okay.  Would you mind telling me when this happened?”

“Joe Cartwright—Mr. Hot Shot sheriff—gunned down an innocent young man over nothing.   Billy never stood a chance against a fast gun like you.”

“The poker player in the saloon?  He was your brother?”

“Twin brother, Sheriff Cartwright.”

I dropped my head.  “I didn’t know.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s a bit late for apologies, isn’t it?”

“You weren’t there.”  Should I use her brother’s name?  Was it too personal to go that route?  I didn’t know the right protocol for something this tragic, but I did anyway.  “Billy drew his gun.  I didn’t have any choice but to fire back.”

“How many notches, Mr. Cartwright?  You never answered my question.”

“ I don’t know, okay?”

“Too many to count?”

I wondered if this was the day.  Would my legs cooperate, or would I be gunned down and left to die in my chair?  She didn’t know about the feeling I had in my leg,s but if they failed to launch me forward so I could grab the weapon, I was a dead man.

“Too bad about your legs.”

Did I see a smirk or maybe even a smile?  “What do you care?”  And then I became aware.  With her hair pulled up and her hat pulled low on her forehead, I didn’t realize that she had been the shooter.  “It was you, wasn’t it?  You were the one who shot me.”

“You’re a smart man, Sheriff.  It took you a while, but you finally deduced the obvious.  Revenge is sweet, Mr. Cartwright, but there must be a final accounting.  An eye for an eye.  Isn’t that what the good book says?”

“Vengeance is mine, says the Lord.  I learned a very different verse, Mary, that’s if Mary is your real name.”

“MaryAnne Coons”

Lord above.  “Mac the Magnificent?” 

“Finally.  You’re a bit slow, aren’t you, Sheriff?”

If I didn’t move soon, I was a dead man.  I’d lived as a cripple long enough, and there were times I wanted to die but looking death in the eye made me wonder if I wanted my wish to come true.  I had to choose between life and death, and I needed to find the answer fast.

“I hate you, Joe Cartwright.  I hate that you shot my brother, and I hate that you didn’t die when I shot you.”

Mary was a small woman, and she held the heavy .45 for a long time.  Her arm had to be tired, and her muscles should be ready to give way from the weight of the revolver.  If my legs betrayed me, I might still have a chance, but knocking her to the ground would be difficult. It was time to make peace with God or lurch forward and live another day.

Chapter Seventeen

“Are you all right, Son?”

“Hey, Pa.  Help me up, will you?”

“Hoss.  Get your brother’s chair.”

“No.  Don’t need the chair.”

Looks passed between Pa and Hoss and Candy.  “What’s that, Joe?”

“Just help me up, Pa.”

Hoss scrambled to my side and helped my father pull me to my feet.  With their assistance, I made it one step at a time to the buggy and climbed aboard.  Pa had tears in his eyes, but he wouldn’t force any dialogue until we were miles away from the gruesome sight.  We left the unpleasantness to Roy Coffee.  He could come by the house and get my statement, then pick up the dead woman and have her buried next to her brother on Boot Hill. 

Even though it looked like I took part in the lady’s demise, I wasn’t the killer.  At some point, Mary had a change of heart, and I was no longer her intended victim.  Before I could bolt from my chair, she raised the gun to her head and pulled the trigger.  We’ll never know why she had a change of heart, but I would often wonder if she had second thoughts and decided that prison was no place for a lady.

Backed by the reddish-orange glow of a stunning Nevada sunset, I could still picture the veil of smoke that hovered around her body.  She couldn’t enjoy the breathtaking display of colors or the warm golden rays descending into hues of purple and pink that signaled the end of the day.  Instead, she chose to fire her weapon, but not until she said her final words.

“It should’ve been you, Joe Cartwright.”

The thunderous blast shattered the peaceful tranquility of Kingston’s Meadow.  I’d brought her to see a sunset, never knowing it would be her last.  Her full name would go on the white, wooden cross adorning her grave.  I’d also make one for Billy, the boy I shot, the shooting that ruined so many lives.

I should’ve known from the beginning that I was being duped by a woman who hated me with every beat of her heart.  She wanted me dead, and she planned my death from day one.  It never crossed my mind that she was anything more than the pretty young woman who played the church organ.  All along, I thought she saw passed my infirmity, that she was interested in the man I had to become after the shooting.

In time, I would walk without help.  The chair could go back to Doc’s, and the two canes I was using now would be tucked away in the attic in case another mishap came our way.

Maybe life itself was a miracle, and maybe the shooting became a way for me to learn new things that would enhance my life.  Mary changed my life twice.  First, with the shooting.  I learned what it was like to be different, to have limitations, and to feel cheated.  I also learned that kindness was given freely and without complaint.  Secondly, I took that all-important step of leaving the house on my own and planning an outing.  Being afraid at my age was something new, but years of confidence had been shattered, and I was alone in the world.

Opportunities like mine don’t come often, but with my family’s help, I came out whole on the other side, and I felt blessed.  Could I have gotten this far without the backing of Hoss and Pa and Candy?  No.  Not a chance.  Am I the luckiest man on earth?  Yeah.  I think so.

The End

Just Joe SJS Challenge

7-2023

Belle

by jfclover

To tell the story properly, I need to start at the beginning, the day a vibrant whirlwind blasted through the saloon doors and changed my life forever. 

It should’ve been a typical Monday morning, but nothing about the day had been normal and nothing about my world would ever be the same again.

Chapter 1

We needed supplies and driving into town had been my decision.  Taking Candy with me was decision number two.  I know this sounds crazy, but I made most of the decisions these days.  I’d usually send a ranch hand, but I had the urge to get away from the house for a time, and picking up supplies fit the bill.

“I’m leaving, Pa.  Taking Candy with me.”   Candy was as easygoing as they come.  He seldom put up a fuss.

The traffic on C Street never ended.  Between freight wagons and off-shift miners, the procession was especially irritating on Mondays.  Merchants needing to restock their shelves thought they had the right of way and the miners, who shaded their eyes from the sun, gathered in groups in the middle of the street before heading to the nearest saloon.  After handing Jake Hop Sing’s list, I said we’d return in an hour to pay the bill.  He was fine with that and after picking up the mail, Candy and I crossed the street to the saloon.

I laid a few coins on the wood surface, and we picked up our beers.  Both of us leaned back against the bar and hooked our heels on the bottom rung.  The saloon was crowded.  Heavy gray clouds were moving in, and I realized we couldn’t stay too long.  We’d be smart to stick to the one-hour plan I told Jake and get the wagon home before rough spring weather washed out the roads.

Our attention was drawn to the batwings when the doors banged open, and the whirlwind stumbled through.  Though it was rude to stare, the sight wasn’t normal and I couldn’t turn my eyes away.  It wasn’t some old drunk who’d had one too many.  It was a young lady with matted blonde hair and simple clothing that had been ripped from her shoulders. With a skirt blackened from road filth or soot, she was barefoot and gasping for breath.

When I sat my glass on the bar, Candy looked worried but didn’t stop me.  He squinted his eyes as if to say, “Don’t.”  But I couldn’t help myself and I stepped toward the young lady.  She’d fallen to the floor and had curled into a rigid ball.  As I reached for her arms, she slapped my hand away.  I tried again.

“Leave me alone!” 

Her voice was hoarse but forceful enough to put me in my place.  She meant business, but so did I.  I didn’t know where she belonged, but it wasn’t on the floor of a dirty saloon.  With a little more force, I pulled her to her feet.  By this time, Candy stood next to me and helped me move her to an empty chair toward the rear of the saloon.  The last thing she needed was everyone gaping and snickering at her pitiful condition.

She dropped her head in her hands and flinched whenever I touched her.  “Do you need a drink?  A glass of water?  Candy, will you …”

Candy was quick to leave the table and hound Bruno for a glass of water.  Being that this was a saloon, he’d have to sweet-talk the barkeep, but Candy was well aware.  He’d make out just fine.

I tried to console her without touching anything I shouldn’t.  It was difficult to break through the stone wall she’d built around her, but I hammered away.  Sooner or later, I hoped she’d give in and let me help.

“Go away.”  Her voice was just above a whisper.  I could pretend I didn’t hear her, but I went a different route.  

“I’m only here to help.  Do you know where you are?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Is this where you want to be?”

An answer didn’t come, and I wasn’t sure what to try next.  Candy handed me the glass, and I pressed it into her hand.  “It’s only water.  It might help.”  She accepted the glass and nodded.  I took that as a thank-you.

Candy had something to say, and I assumed he didn’t want her to hear.  Since the lady and I had made a smidgen of progress, I couldn’t leave her sitting alone.  I gave him a quick nod and hoped he’d understand.  I had a pretty good sense of Candy’s thought process.  He’d wait till the time was right.  

We must’ve sat without speaking for a good five minutes.  I figured that was long enough, and I tried to make conversation.  Under all the filth and ragtag clothing, she was a pretty girl, prettier than most.  What disturbed me most was when I got a closer look.  She wasn’t just tired and dirty; she’d been beaten.  Bruises—old and new—stained her soft white skin.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

I thought she glanced toward the stairs, although I must’ve been mistaken.  Money and favors changed hands in the upstairs rooms, but this little gal didn’t look anything like a common whore.  She looked like someone had taken his fist to her and beaten her nearly to death, but why had she stumbled into a saloon rather than a boarding house or hotel lobby … or the sheriff’s office?

Rowdy and crowded.  Smoky and stale.  Unwashed men and fancy women.  In every town west of the Mississippi, a man could find the same atmosphere as any other saloon.  My brothers and I christened the Bucket of Blood the night it opened.  In fact, every new saloon that popped up in our little hamlet gave my brothers and me reason to celebrate.  Though Pa never saw the humor in our excitement, we couldn’t wait to christen the newest bar in town and gawk and all the new females. Men like us were experts in the field. 

The little blonde had no reason to trust me.  Hell, I hadn’t even told her my name and I needed to remedy that.  I wanted her to feel comfortable, but I hadn’t made much of an effort.  

“I’m Joe Cartwright.”  Glancing across the table, I said,  “This is my friend, Candy.  We live on a ranch called the Ponderosa.  Maybe you’ve heard of it.”  She looked at me as if I had two heads.  Had I said something wrong?  Had I boasted and not realized?  “I don’t recall hearing your name.”

“If you’re interested, ask Bruno.  He’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

With that said, she stood and crossed the room.  She moved as though nothing was amiss, as if she hadn’t stumbled through the batwings with ripped clothing and ratty hair.  She plowed up the saloon stairs and when she was out of sight, Candy and I heard her slam a well-made bedroom door.

She was a whirlwind of contradictions, or so I thought.  “What just happened?”

“If I knew, I’d be the first to let on.”

I pulled my hat low on my forehead and tried to understand the petite saloon girl that tried to act tough by brushing me off as quickly as she caught her breath and knew she could make it upstairs to her room.

Later that night, when I lay in bed, I couldn’t steer my mind in a different direction.  From her disheveled appearance to the way she marched up the stairs stuck with me like stink on a skunk.  I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

Chapter 2

We had a good crew this year, and branding the new calves went quicker than normal.  We’d use the same men for the drive to Sacramento in a couple of weeks, and they’d be granted a decent bonus if all went well.

Pa planned to sit this one out.  He’d taught his sons well, and he turned the drive and so much more over to me to run as I saw fit.  After Hoss’ death, Candy became a big part of our daily lives.  He also became my right-hand man like Adam had been Pa’s years ago.  But when Adam left for a better life, the three of us ran the show together.  Without realizing what was happening, Hoss stepped aside, which thrust me into the role Adam had years ago.

The last few months had been long and tiresome, and I often dropped into bed without supper.  It didn’t please my father or Hop Sing, but they kept their protests in the minimal range.  By the time Saturday afternoon arrived, Candy and I often quit work early, took a bath, and were ready for a night on the town.  No stinking steers for the next thirty-six hours.  This week wasn’t any different.

“Don’t you smell purdy,” he said.

“Not as pretty as you, my friend.  You ready?”

“Just waiting on you.”

“Good.  Let’s go.”

I told Pa we wouldn’t be late, but even at my age, my father would sit up until I returned home.  He might doze off in his chair, but he wouldn’t climb the stairs until his boy was home.  Some things never changed.

Though I didn’t say anything to Candy, I was anxious to see the girl with no name.  She’d told me to talk to Bruno, but I didn’t go that route.  If she wouldn’t tell me herself, then we’d call it a day and I’d walk away, but I wanted to see her standing tall, her hair piled on top of her head, and in a new dress that turned men’s heads.

We tied our mounts and walked into the saloon.  Everyone and their brother came out for drinks on Saturday night, and the Bucket didn’t disappoint.  Every table was taken so we inched closer to the bar and I signaled Bruno for two beers.  As I combed the room for the girl, I think Candy was doing the same.  “You see her anywhere?”

“Nope.  You?”

“No sign of her.  Bruno wouldn’t let anyone take Saturday night off.”

“Maybe you should ask him … you know?”

“All right.”  I cut through the crowd of thirsty men to the end of the bar, where the barkeep filled two glasses with beer.  “Hey, Bruno.  Got a minute?”

“Whatcha need, Little Joe?”

“What happened to that little gal that stumbled in here last weekend?”

“Little blonde?”

“That’s the one.”

“Long gone.”

“Really?  Where’d she go?”

“Just up and left.  Didn’t even ask for her pay.”

“Really?”

“Nothin’ new, Little Joe.  Them kind of gals come and go like fireflies in the night sky.”

“Yeah.  Guess you’re right.”  

As I muscled my way toward Candy, I pointed to a table where a poker game had just ended.  He got there before me and stared at the two men who thought they’d gotten there first.  God knows I was in no mood for a brawl.  I was tired and disappointed and would rather ride home than have to fight two burley miners for a lousy table.

POW!  

Candy took the first punch and all hell broke loose.  Not only did the four of us carry on like eighteen-year-old boys, but half the men in the saloon were ready for a Saturday night brawl.  After a large man nailed me with a left hook, I shook it off and butted him with my head.  He flew over the empty table and I moved to the next in line.  

Halted breaths had me pressing my hands against my thighs until I could stand up straight.  With my breathing under control, I had time to look up.  The room had quieted to a low roar and Candy and I were the only ones standing.  I motioned my head toward the door, and the two of us slipped through the batwings before anyone knew we were gone.

I don’t know why, but my mind drifted off to the little gal from the saloon rather than the ruckus we’d sunk low enough to be part of.  Why she filled my thoughts was a mystery except, for the first time in a long time, something inside me felt alive.  My wife died nearly eight months ago, and I hadn’t thought of even looking at another woman.  Not that the saloon girl and I would ever … but she stirred something deep inside that I thought might be dead forever.

Chapter 3

Night watch was always the worst, but we vowed that our men wouldn’t have to do anything we wouldn’t do.  We were three nights into the drive to Sacramento, and tonight the rotation belonged to me to stay up half the night with a bunch of willful steers.  I pulled Cochise from the remuda.  He wasn’t a cutting horse, but he’d do anything else I asked, and I needed a reliable mount to guard the herd.  I whistled and sang, and I began remembering songs my brother used to sing on long, lonely nights in the saddle.  Adam knew more verses than I ever would so I probably bored the cattle to death.

By the time we reached Sacramento, we’d only lost two head in a river crossing.  I would tell the buyer, but he’d pay for the entire herd anyway.  We never inflated our price.  We always played fair.  The Cartwrights were honest and upright, and we expected the same in return.

After thanking the crew for a job well done, I added an extra ten spot to everyone’s pay.  They’d spend it all in one night, but that was their choice.  I planned to do a little celebrating myself.  After securing a room, a bath, and a clean suit of clothes, Candy and I were ready to hit the town.  

“Where should we start?”

“Anywhere you say, Boss.”

That was all I needed to know.  “First saloon we come to?”

“Works for me.”

The dang saloon was so crowded, we couldn’t push through the doors.  “How about the second one we come to?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Number two proved to be the same, but we managed to work our way up to the bar in number three—The Gilded Dove.  We weren’t the only cowpokes in town although I don’t remember ever seeing Sacramento so overrun by out-of-towners.

Candy bought the first round—I’d given him an extra twenty—and we drank that glass dry in seconds.  The rest would go down at a slower pace.  If not, we’d be sleeping in the jailhouse rather than the two plump feather beds I booked at the finest hotel in town.  Pa would be pleased with such a successful drive.  Even though I’d been trail boss, I still wanted my father’s approval, a pat on the shoulder, and those ever-important words.  “I’m proud of you, Son.”

As I scanned the room over the top of my beer, I saw her.  The little gal.  The ratty little girl that had stumbled through the batwings in Virginia City.  I elbowed Candy.  “Look over there.  The green satin.”

“Well … what do you know.”

“Never thought we’d see her again, did you?”

“Nope.”

I leaned back against the bar and watched her work the room.  She was older than I first thought, an experienced barmaid, far from the kid I thought she was at first glance.  The lady knew her stuff and she knew how to strut, that’s if women strut.  Maybe not, but she knew how to make men’s eyes shift in her direction.  I followed her with both eyes as did half the men in the saloon.  Did they see the same thing I saw?  Did their insides stir as much as mine did?

This whole thing was silly.  I felt like a fool kid, not a grown man whose Pa trusted him to do the right thing.  When a man worries about his appearance, when he wonders if his clothing is up to snuff, or if his wild, curly hair is combed to perfection, he wonders if she’ll take notice of him as he leans against the bar.  After running through his list of “ifs,” he wonders if he’s lost his mind.

Candy pointed to a poker game.  Two men were leaving and he wanted to join in the fun.  I wasn’t that keen.  “Go ahead, Buddy.”

“You don’t want to try your luck?”

“Not right now.”

Candy picked up his beer and moved to the table with three other men.  I gave him a quick “good luck” nod before ordering a second beer.  After laying a coin on the bar, I heard my stomach growl.  We hadn’t thought about supper and it was closing in on nine o’clock.  Seeing Candy pull out a month’s wages; I guessed he’d be tied up for a couple of hours.  I wasn’t sure I could wait that long for a meal.  I smiled as an idea came to mind.

“Excuse me, Ma’am.”

She stared at me for about two seconds before she asked a disturbing question.  “Are you following me?”

“NO!  Not at all.  We drove our cattle to market and … and we just happened to pick this saloon for a drink.  I’m not accustomed to following women around the country if that’s what you think.”

“I just asked.  I don’t need a damn lecture.”

“Fine.”  My hands rose to my waist in frustration.  “I don’t lecture.”

“Sure sounded like one.”

“I’m hungry is all.  I wondered if you’d have supper with me.”

“Supper?  After I accused you of …”

“Is that a yes?”

“Can you wait an hour?  Arnie gave me the early shift.  I’m out of here at ten.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Name’s Belle.”

“Nice to meet you, Belle.  I don’t know if you remember or not but—”

“Joe Cartwright.  I’m not stupid, you know.”

I wanted to smile, but I held back.  The woman made my head spin, but a part of me believed she was half crazy.  First, she couldn’t stand the sight of me, and then she was all sugar and spice.  

The woman who stood in front of me was a different woman than that ragtag girl I tried to help nearly a month ago.  The difference was amazing.  Her complexion had changed from pasty white to rosy and bright.  She looked fabulous, and I looked forward to dining with the feistiest woman on earth.  

Chapter 4

At ten o’clock sharp, we stepped through the batwings and onto the boardwalk where Belle stopped, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.   I wasn’t sure why this was important, but there wasn’t much I understood about the young lady.  Only that she intrigued me more than anyone had in a long time.

“Ready to go?”

After wrapping her hand just above my elbow, she looked up at me and smiled.  I’m starving.”

“Good.  I know just the spot.”

I remembered a place that served a decent steak—probably Ponderosa beef—and all the fixings.  Al’s Steakhouse was only a couple of blocks away, and I didn’t think a carriage was necessary.  Besides, I liked the warmth of her hand on my arm.

By the time the evening ended, I was nowhere closer to understanding the girl named Belle than I was a month ago.  If I asked a question, her answer was vague.  Maybe my answers would be too if she asked any, but she didn’t want to know anything about me.  She ate.  She laughed at the appropriate times.  She was as polite as any young woman would be who had a fella buy her supper and not expect anything in return.  Although, she offered.

When I returned her to the saloon, I didn’t want her to think I didn’t want her.  I wanted her more than anything, but not this way.  Not a payment for a steak, red potatoes, and peas.  I’d never been that kind of guy, and I wasn’t about to start that night.

“May I see you again?”

She cocked her head to the side.  “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.  I have to get up early and head back to the ranch.”

“In Nevada?”

“That’s the one.”

Her hands flew to her hips.  “I don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand?”

“You come to Sacramento, take me out to dinner, and ride back to your stinking ranch.  That’s it?”

“No that’s not it.”  My blood pressure soared.  “I asked if I could see you again.”

Her brow furrowed and her eyes tightened.  “How does this all work, Cowboy?”

“I make arrangements to return.  That’s how.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed but this is my home.  Virginia City just happened to be a spot on the map I thought I might like, but it didn’t work out.  I’m a working girl, Joe.  I take men upstairs to my room.  Sometimes, I take more than one a night.  Sometimes, I pleasure more than one at a time.  I charge premium prices.  I’m top of the line.  Don’t you understand?  I don’t want you to come back.  You don’t belong here.  I don’t ever want to see you again.”

The look on my face might’ve been one of shock, although wasn’t that the point of her rant?  To shock me?  To push me away?  I wasn’t that easy to get rid of, but I knew a challenge when I heard one.

“What can I say that will change your mind?”

“Go home, Joe Cartwright.”

At that, she gathered her skirt and ran up the stairs to her room.  Candy glanced toward the commotion and threw in his hand.  His poker friends would have to do without him for the rest of the night.

“Let’s go, Buddy.”

My friend was right.  There was nothing left to do.  I dropped my head, followed him out of the saloon, and started across the street to the hotel.

The shot came out of nowhere.  The bullet entered my right side just above my belt, and I whirled on one heel before diving shoulder-first onto the dusty street.  I heard guns firing but I couldn’t reach my holster.  I couldn’t begin to defend myself and wondered if I might die.

I must’ve passed out.  When I woke, bright lights poured into my eyes, and a man I’d never seen hovered over me and groused at me to lay still.  I squirmed and tried to get off the table.  The fingers prodding my wound were nearly too much for a man to handle.  Every time I tried to swat the irritation away, my arms were pulled tight and pushed to the side.  When I opened my eyes, everything became real.  The doc.  My best friend.  

Candy pressed down on my shoulder and said something I couldn’t quite catch.  After accepting that the man with thick fingers was a doctor, I felt him wrap a clean, white bandage around my waist and told me to stay put, that I wasn’t going anywhere until morning.

The first thing that came to mind was how much money we wasted on a fancy hotel room we’d never use.  Candy hovered next to an overstuffed chair, said he’d stay the night and the doc could go to bed.  I didn’t mention the hotel.  I didn’t say a word.  I was too tired to complain.

Early morning light showed through lace curtains and dappled the room with the beginnings of a new day.  I slept through the night only to be poked and prodded the minute I woke.  The doc’s fingers were like ice and it felt like he was rearranging my skin to cover the new scar.

When the doctor was finished, he wrapped the wound again and started for the door.  Candy stopped him before he left the room and words were spoken.  I didn’t catch their exchange, and it was only moments before I slept again.

The sound of voices woke me and though they chatted in whispered tones, I was aware of their presence.  I knew Candy’s laugh.  If he tried to keep his presence subtle and lowkey, he failed miserably.  

At noon, I woke again.  Candy told me the sheriff had stopped by and he filled him in.  The officer wanted to hear the story from me, but I didn’t know anything more than my friend.  The man’s bullet happened to hit me, not him.  That was the only difference, and our stories would be the same.

The doctor stepped into the room and said lunch was on the way.  I smiled the best I could, but I didn’t much care about eating.  Candy poured me a glass of water and I drank it down.  Food was a whole different story, but I would try.

“I wired your pa.”

I blew out a breath of frustration.  Pa would worry himself crazy.

“Don’t fret.  I said you were okay and we’d be home in about a week.”

“Hopefully, he’ll stay home.  He’s too old to go galivanting.”

“Better not tell him that.”

I smiled but tried not to laugh.  My body wasn’t ready to be jostled over Candy’s comment.  “When do I get out of here?”

“Maybe this afternoon, but you’ll have to ask Doc Morrison.  He’s a good man, Joe.  You can trust what he says.”

“Okay.”  I barely got the words out before I drifted off again.  

Chapter 5

Candy hauled me to the hotel in the back of a wagon.  If I hadn’t felt so lousy, I would’ve complained.  He and one of the hotel porters helped me up a flight of stairs and into our room, and I flopped down on the bed exhausted.  I just wanted to sleep.  When Candy said he needed to get out and walk some, I understood.  He was a bit like me.  It was hard for him to sit at all, and that’s just what he’d done for two full days.

“Go have a beer on me, Buddy.”

“I might do just that.” 

Candy was a good friend.  I could’ve laid in the street and died. I couldn’t do for myself, and he made sure I had what was needed.  He did everything he could to see that I was taken care of, and he’d spend the rest of the week nursing me so I could sit a horse and ride back to the Ponderosa. The least he deserved was a cold beer.  Maybe two or three and a trip to one of the upstairs rooms with a fancy barmaid.  It seemed as though I’d just fallen asleep when there was a knock on the hotel door.

“Who’s there?”

“Joe?”  A female voice answered back.  “You in there, Joe?”  As much as I wanted to answer, I didn’t have the strength but it didn’t matter.  The door opened and in walked Belle.  Dressed in saloon garb—green satin with black lace throughout the bodice—she looked like a million bucks.  “My, God!  What happened to you?”

“I was shot.”

“I heard someone had been gunned down on Tenth Street, but I never thought it might be you.  I figured you were back in Nevada by now.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“What in the world are you talking about?  You know what kind of girl I am.”

“You think I’m some kind of saint?”

She shook her head and smiled.  “I don’t know what to think.”

“Then have dinner with me.  Candy’s buying.”  She’d taken a seat next to the bed, but she stood and moved toward the window.  Had I upset her somehow?  Had I said the wrong thing?  Granted, my mind wasn’t clear, but I didn’t mean to put her off.  This was the most excitement I’d had in two days.  “Please?”

When the door opened and Candy came barreling through, she backed away from the window.  “You awake?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I saw your friend.  She asked about you.”

“Really?”

“I told her you … oh,”—his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets—“you’re here.  How did you get in?”

“Wait.  Slow down, Candy.  It’s okay.”  

“I should go.”

“No.  Please stay.”

She repeated, “I should go,” and she was out the door.

“Thanks a lot, Buddy.”

“I didn’t know.”

 “I know.”  I settled deeper under the blanket. 


When I woke, the sun had set and the room had grown dark.  Candy snored softly in an overstuffed chair by the window.  Since we didn’t know who shot me, it was probably smart for him to stay inside the room and not run all over town after dark.  He’d had his beer.  It was time to hunker down and call it a night. 

A sudden knock and I turned my head toward the door.  I didn’t know the time, but had I been forgiven?  Was she ready to talk to me? Candy half-stumbled to the door.  “Sheriff,” he said.  He stepped away and let the man inside our room.  I tried to sit up taller but failed. 

“Sorry if I don’t get up, Sheriff.”

“Please don’t.  Doc would have my hide.”

“Okay.  What’s up?”

The sheriff glanced at the chair next to the bed.  “May I?”

“Sure thing.”

“We may have found the shooter, but without an eyeball witness, it will be hard to prosecute.”

Now, I was interested.  I palmed my hands on the mattress and pushed up from my waist.  “Who do you think did this?”

“His name’s Shaw.  Ezra Shaw.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Word around town is you know his wife.”

I tried to push myself up again.  This time with Candy’s help, I managed a sitting position.  “I’m sorry but I don’t know anyone named Shaw, Sheriff.”

“Her full name is Isabelle Shaw.  Most men know her as Belle.”

I dropped my gaze and my entire body sunk under the weight of his statement.  I thought the woman was in trouble.  I thought I could help, and she thanked me by sending her husband out into the night to gun me down.  When had I become such a lousy judge of character?  When had I lost all perspective?

I never thought I’d say it, but she was nothing more than a saloon whore, a whore with a husband.  No wonder she didn’t want me around.  Why didn’t I listen to her?  She tried to get rid of me in Virginia City, but I didn’t believe she was serious.  Then, I pursued her in Sacramento, but I was more than ready to ride back to the Ponderosa with Candy.  Nothing could keep me in town a day longer than necessary.

Chapter 6

Two days later, Doctor Morrison said I was fit enough to ride.  I’d been shot before and his instructions for a complete recovery were standard fare.  Candy and I would leave the following morning.

“I should wire your pa.”

“That’s probably a good idea.  Tell him we’ll be home before church on Sunday.”

“Yeah.  He’ll like that.”

My energy was lacking, but I got out of bed and moved toward the window.  I needed to get my strength back before I tried to sit Cochise and ride over rough mountain terrain.  It wasn’t an easy journey with a herd of cattle but for a man in a weakened state, it would be a bear of a ride.  I needed to get outside the hotel and walk until I couldn’t take another step.  But I wasn’t stupid.  I’d wait till Candy got back.

A knock on the door had me moving away from the window and crossing the room.  “Forget your key, Buddy?”

I swung the door wide only to find Belle, the whore, the woman who sent her husband to kill me, standing like a demure, apologetic little girl.  It had been over a month since I first laid eyes on her, and nothing had changed.  She fought me then and she could fight me now, but I wasn’t Joe Cartwright the pushover loser any longer. 

“You’ve got the wrong room, Lady.”

“No, I don’t.”  I started to shut the door but she thrust her forearm through the narrow opening.  “Please, Joe.  I need to explain.”

I let go of the latch and walked toward the overstuffed chair.  She crossed the room behind me.  Although I didn’t turn and face her, I could hear her movements until she came to sit on the edge of the bed facing me.  Even though I wasn’t her client and I had no intention of continuing our curious friendship, she felt comfortable sitting on a man’s unmade bed, but that’s what whores do.  They have a certain power over a man.  He’s vulnerable and when his weakness shows, she draws him into her web.  Not with me, though.  I knew the type, and I wasn’t about to let her get under my skin and distract me from going about my business. 

She’d had me shot, nearly killed.  Had she come to beg my forgiveness?  “Why are you here?  What do you want?”

“I want you to know the truth.”

“I know the truth, Mrs. Shaw.  The sheriff has your husband in custody, but he’ll probably be released before the day’s out.  Do you plan to have him repeat his actions a second time?”

“You and the sheriff have it all wrong.”

Candy returned after his errand, and not knowing exactly what to do after seeing Belle, he stopped just inside the door.  “Come on in, Buddy.  Belle’s going to explain why she had her husband shoot me.  If he’d been a better shot, Lady, I’d be dead.”

She stood from her seat on the end of my bed and planted both feet in front of me.  With her hands on her hips, she began her rant.  “For the last time, I had nothing to do with the shooting.  Ezra saw you with me the other night and he’s a bitter, bitter man.  And before you ask, the answer is yes, he knows what I do for a living.  It’s his way of maintaining control. He keeps track of my earnings and as long as I make enough to keep him at the poker tables, he leaves me alone.”

“Why do you stay with a—”

She held up her hand.  “Let me finish.  I got fed up with Ezra and I saved enough money to take the stage east.  My earnings got me from San Francisco to Virginia City but three weeks later, my husband showed up.  He’s not one to give up easily.  The day you found me, he’d beaten me and shoved me through the batwings, told me I better not try a stunt like that again.  He was out of money and since I’m his cash cow, he wasn’t going to let me get far before dragging me back and putting me to work.  He saw you escort me to a late supper and ask for nothing in return.  That’s not the kind of man he wants me spending time with, and that’s what set him off.”

“Wait a minute.”  I stood and pulled her toward me.  “The night we first met … your husband was the man who beat you?”

“Estranged.”

“Did you ever tell Sheriff Coffee?”

“It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.  There’s nothing any sheriff can do.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Let it go, Joe.  It doesn’t matter.”

I turned and started across the room.  I needed a minute to think.  Maybe she was right.  Estranged didn’t mean divorced.  She was still married to the man, and that’s what kept the sheriff from acting on her behalf.  As far as the law was concerned, Roy’s hands were tied.  I knew what I had to do.

“Can you ride?”

“What?”

“A horse.  Can you ride a horse?”

“Of course, I can ride a horse.”

“Then you’re coming with me.”

Her hands flew to her hips.  “Back to Nevada?  You can’t be serious.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“But I can’t go to Nevada.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I suppose Bruno would take me back …”

I turned toward Candy.  I hadn’t asked him if he minded, but I didn’t have time to set everything straight.  The decision was made.  Belle Shaw was coming with us, and she wasn’t working for Bruno or any other barkeep.  I’d make sure of that.

Chapter 7

After buying a gentle roan for Belle and collecting enough supplies for a week, the three of us headed east.  For Belle’s sake, I thought Candy and I should take a slower pace, but the girl rode like she’d been raised in the saddle.  She had no problem keeping a lively pace, and it made our adventure more bearable than I initially thought.

There wasn’t much to say, and we rode in silence.  I tried to get over the fact that I was protecting Ezra Shaw’s estranged wife and wondered how long the sheriff could keep the would-be assassin behind bars.  There was no mention of a trial and no reason to think there ever would be.  That was fine with me.  I didn’t need the hassle of returning to Sacramento to testify.

I didn’t have plans for Mrs. Shaw either.  Letting her work in one of the saloons was out of the question, but I wondered if she had any other qualifications.  Could she sew?  Cook?  Nanny?  Giving those womanly options some consideration meant realizing whoring might be the only thing she knew.  If I took her straight to the Ponderosa, I’d have a lot of explaining to do, but it might be worth the look on Pa’s face after the story was told.  It’s certainly not a simple tale, and the more I thought about it, the more I enjoyed rummaging the story around in my head.

We made camp that night in a wooded grove of cottonwoods.  They often grew next to streams or good-sized rivers, and I always camped next to water.  A good pot of coffee was essential, and that’s when Belle came alive. 

“Give me the pot.  I’ll do it.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I can just imagine what your coffee tastes like.”

“Hey.”

When I heard Candy snicker, I handed the lady the pot and sat back on my haunches.  Fine, she could make the coffee.  Hell, she could make the whole dinner.  At least I’d know if she was any kind of a cook.

I figured Candy and Belle were tired, but they didn’t have a healing wound just above their waist.  I did, and it made all the difference when it came to sitting a saddle and riding for eight hours straight.  I had no doubt the doc did a good job and I’d heal up fine, but the healing process was a burden I had to carry.

After hearing the two of them giggle, I closed my eyes.  They could have fun without me.  I was in no mood for silly jokes or idle conversation.  I was too tired to be the butt of their jokes or add to their banter.  They’d have to carry on without me.

The dream seemed so real … 

The way my black, leather belt fell away from my waist.  The way her hand traveled deliberately across my belly and pushed the front of my trousers lower on my hips aroused me and caused me to roll from my side to my back.  Lifting my hips off the bed made the process easier for the woman who would be handsomely rewarded before I left her room.

Though my eyes were closed and I couldn’t see her face, I sensed she was pretty and her skillful touch awakened feelings I forgot a man could enjoy.  When her lips encased my shaft, I waited for a gentle rhythm to begin.  When it did, my breathing became labored and my body came alive.  Confusion only lasted seconds.  As I reached for her face, I opened my eyes and recognized who found it necessary to …

“What the hell?”  It wasn’t a dream at all.  It was real. 

“You don’t like?”

“Is this a game for you?”  I eased my trousers to my waist before Candy … but he wasn’t asleep.  He was wide awake and found humor in my discomfort.  Lying on the far side of the fire but facing the two of us, his smile stretched from ear to ear.  I wanted to pound him but this wasn’t the time or place.  “This isn’t right, Belle.”

“I was just trying to say thank you.”

“There are other ways.”

“Like what?”

“Like saying thank you.  That’s all that’s needed.  You don’t have to go and … and pleasure a man every time he does something nice.”

“It’s what I do, Joe.”

“Not anymore.  That life is behind you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do.  I won’t have you working in a saloon ever again.”

The voice from across the campfire was adamant.  “Will you two put a lid on it and go to sleep!”

Chapter 8

We sat at the top of the ridge overlooking the ranch house.  “There’s your new home.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.”

She looked at Candy for confirmation.  “Yep.  We’ve been on the Ponderosa since mid-morning.”

It was as plain as day.  Belle was impressed.  We zigzagged down the slope and headed toward the house.  I’d give her one of the guest bedrooms, the one with lacy curtains and a frilly bedspread.  She could camp out there until we figured out the rest of her life.  Whether it took two days or two months, I didn’t much care.  If I could overlook last night’s antics, we could move forward and enjoy each other’s company.  No strings attached, just a few laughs and plans for a new life.

Pa must’ve heard us coming.  The front door swung open and he stepped out to greet us.  “Welcome home, Son.”

“Hi, Pa.”

The stitches pulled at my side when I dismounted.  Healing took time.  Pa knew that and he didn’t excuse the grimace he saw on my face.  “You okay, Joe?”

“I’ll live.”

“I’m sure you will, but I want you laying down as soon as possible.”

I turned away from my father and reached up to help Belle then realized I didn’t have the strength.  “Candy?” 

She placed her hands on the foreman’s shoulder, and he set her feet on the ground. 

“Pa, this is Belle Shaw, and I’ve offered her a place to stay.”

“Happy to meet you, Miss Shaw.”

“It’s Mrs., Mr. Cartwright, but it’s a long story.”

“I hope you enjoy your stay, Mrs. Shaw.”

“Thank you.  I’m sure I will.”

After handing my reins to Candy, I let him lead the three horses to the barn.  I’m sure he understood.  Belle and I crossed the yard and porch, and Pa opened the door wide for our guest. 

“Welcome to our home, Mrs. Shaw.”

“It’s beautiful, Mr. Cartwright, but please call me Belle.  I’ve never been one for formalities.”

“All right … Belle it is.  Hop Sing’s been cooking all day, but you two have time for a short nap and a good wash before supper.  Do you want to show our guest to her room, Joseph?”

“That’s the plan, Pa.”

Belle didn’t own much.  Her small satchel and mine were easy to carry upstairs.  After setting mine by my bedroom door, I took Belle to the frilly room down the hall.  I hoped she’d be pleased.  And she was.  She oohed and aahed appropriately.

“Take a nap or clean up.  Whatever strikes your fancy.  Supper is at six, so you have time for both.”

“Thank you, Joe.  I can’t tell you how much—“

I smiled and kissed her cheek.  “Don’t think a thing about it.”

More than anything, I wanted a bath and a nap but Pa deserved an explanation.  I ventured down the stairs and plopped my aching bones onto the settee.  Pa didn’t hesitate to pour me a cup of coffee, sit back, and wait for me to explain.  I felt like that ten-year-old kid that had to confess a wrongdoing, but meeting Belle and bringing her to the Ponderosa wasn’t a wrongdoing at all.

Though I had to make the story real, I didn’t need to enhance because everything I’d done had been on the up and up.  Belle was the victim, not me.  She deserved a chance at a normal life without that sleazy husband of hers dragging her through the mud.

“I hope he’ll never find her here.  I pray she’ll find her way and be happy.”  After simple details were explained, I conveyed my sentiments the best I could to my father.

“Is there anything more I should know about?”

“What do you mean, Pa?”

“Are we asking for trouble?  If the sheriff can’t contain that Shaw fellow … what then?”

I shifted in my seat.  “I’m not sure, but if that day comes, I’ll handle it.”

Chapter  9

The guest room was empty.  Her satchel was nowhere in sight and neither was she.  If Belle and I weren’t seated at the dining room table with Pa in the next ten minutes, Hop Sing would be fussing and carrying on like a banshee.  I’d just finished my explanation to my father and now I had to pull off a brand-new version of the girl who was supposed to be upstairs.  This whole thing had turned into one big, troublesome mess, and this new situation was hard to figure.   

I tromped down the staircase as though my whole world had collapsed and I’d been backhanded across the face with an iron fist.  I’d done everything I could do for Belle, and she appreciated nothing.  She played me for a fool, a damn fool.

“She’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?”

“Gone, Pa.   Vamoosed.  Left the house.  What don’t you understand?”

“No need to be disrespectful, Joseph.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sure she’s not outside or in a different room.”

“I’m sure.  Her carpetbag is gone too.”

Pa closed in.  It was his way of keeping the conversation alive.  “Sit down, Son.” 

Perching beside me on the settee, he laid his hand on my knee.  I felt so young and vulnerable; I didn’t feel like the man who ran the largest spread in Nevada, but even worse, I was just beginning to feel human again, but that blasted woman stripped me of every step forward I’d taken since my wife’s death. 

“I give up.  If this is the game she wants to play then I’m done with her.”

“You did the best you could, Son.  I suspect this woman is used to a different kind of life.  Maybe she felt as though she couldn’t fit in.  I don’t know, but don’t let her disappearance affect the way you sympathize with those who are less fortunate.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

Chapter 10

Three days later, Candy and I drove into town for supplies.  Walking into a saloon for a cold one and watching Belle entertain some man was the last thing I hoped to see, but how does any man change his whole way of thinking?  How does he avoid the only woman who occupies his mind night and day?

As we walked through the batwings, my nerves fought each other like a Kansas tornado and as I breathed in the stench of spilled drinks and unwashed men, I saw that Belle hadn’t come to the Bucket of Blood to start her new life.  After realizing how many saloons were in Virginia City, I wondered if I’d ever run into her again.

“She’s not here, Joe.”

“I know.”

“Want to try the Silver Dollar?”

I gave Candy a look I doubt he appreciated.  “I didn’t come looking for Belle.  I came for a beer, okay?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Well … that’s what I say.”

“The beer’s usually colder at the Silver Dollar.”

“Fine.”  I set my full glass of beer on the bar harder than I should’ve and half of it spilled.  “Let’s go.”

Candy was full of it.  The beer wasn’t any colder and there was no sign of Belle. We tried several more saloons along C Street but luck wasn’t on our side.  It could’ve been her day off.  She could’ve been upstairs with some filthy miner.  She could’ve been anywhere, and I shouldn’t have cared, but I cared more than any man should about a woman who doesn’t want to be found.

After Candy and I picked up supplies and hopped up on the wagon to start for home, a boy about ten years old came running down the boardwalk calling my name. 

“Mr. Cartwright!  Mr. Cartwright!”

Candy and I turned in our seats and I recognized him as James Simpson’s son.  “What’s up, Jimmy?”

“Doc sent me.  He wants you to come to his office.”

I glanced at Candy and back at the boy.  “He tell you why?”

“No.  He gave me two bits and told me to ride out to the Ponderosa.  He said he’d give me another quarter after you showed up at his office.”

I reached into my pocket and gave the kid his due.  “Here.  You’re even with the doc.”

Candy and I left the buckboard in front of the mercantile and hurried down to Paul Martin’s office.  All I could think of was something had happened to Pa.  Since I was out searching for Belle, instead of driving straight back to the Ponderosa, one of the hands had to bring my father into town.  Did he race down the bumpy roads or did he drive as carefully as I would have under such circumstances?  I should’ve been home with my father.  At his age, anything could happen, and I was out goofing around, drinking warm beer, and looking for a woman who couldn’t stand the sight of me.

Like a ten-year-old kid who was afraid of losing his Pa, I burst through Doc’s front door and shouted,  “What’s happened?”   

Paul came out of his surgical room and reached out to shake my hand.  “Joe.” 

My heart raced.  “Is it Pa?” 

“No.  As far as I know, your father is fine.”

“Why’d you want to see me?”

“A woman.”

“Parden me?”

“A woman named Belle.”

I don’t know what the look on my face said to the good doctor, but it was too late to hide my feelings.  “I don’t understand.”

“I assume you know the girl.  A group of miners found her in the alley next to the Silver Dollar and brought her to me.  Although she’s badly hurt, she managed to call out your name.”

“May I see her?”

“Her face is bruised and swollen, and I don’t want you to look shocked when you walk inside.  Think you can keep a straight face?”

“Of course, I can.”

“Okay, but just for a minute.”

Doc opened the door to his back room, the closet-sized space where patients slept who weren’t ready to head home just yet.  I stepped inside.  He opted to stay behind with Candy and let me have time alone with Belle.  Looking at that once-beautiful face made me want to turn away and run out the door, but when she made a muted sound, I realized she knew I was there and it was too late to get away.

“Belle?”

Atop a thin, patchwork quilt, her arms rested at her sides.  I could see that Paul had been forced to undress her to check her bones and whatever else might be amiss, but he trusted me enough to leave the coverlet in place and not take advantage of the girl who lay broken and bruised.

I reached for her hand and held it between both of mine.  Cold against warm.  The contrast was frightening.  Had she not made that sound, I might’ve thought she was dead.  And why not?  What did she have to live for?  Another day of satisfying drunken, foul-smelling men?  Why in the world had she gone back to that life? 

“Joe?”

“I’m right here.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, but when you’re well enough, you’re coming with me.  No questions asked.  No answers needed.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“He’ll find me.  He always does.”

“Who?  Who’ll find you?”

“Ezra.”

“He did this to you, didn’t he?  He followed us here.  Is that why you came to town … to be with Ezra?”

I turned when the door behind me opened and Doc Martin poked his head inside.  “She needs to rest, Son.”

“I’ll only be a minute.”

When Doc closed the door, I turned back to Belle.  “Why do you want to be with a man like him?  I don’t understand.”

“He …”

“He what?”

“Didn’t want.  He said he’d kill you if I refused to …”

Her voice began to fade.  She was tired and I needed to let her rest.  “You need to sleep, and I need to go.”

“Don’t go.”  When she started to rise from the bed, I took hold of her bare shoulders and stopped her from sitting up.  “Her voice was so soft, I barely heard her repeat, “Please stay.”

“I won’t go anywhere.  I’ll be right outside the door.  No one will get passed me but the doctor.  Okay?”

“Watch your back.  Ezra …”

Chapter 11

Candy and I sat in front of Paul’s desk.  He handed us each a glass of whiskey before explaining Belle’s injuries.  “She has a strong constitution, Joe.  Not many could survive the abuse she’s been through.”

I averted the tears that threatened and looked up at Paul.  “Will she be okay?

“I think so, but what kind of man beats a woman like that?  The damn beast should be imprisoned for the rest of his natural life.”

“Her husband.”

“Her husband did this to her?”

“Estranged.”

I hadn’t even told Candy the whole story.  Now, they both knew the truth about Belle and her husband and they might understand why I brought her home with me.  The girl needed a break from the brutality, but maybe I hadn’t been the right choice.  He’d discovered my presence twice.  The first time, I’d been shot, but this time he went too far.  He beat the woman I loved.  He knew that would hurt more than a bullet ever could. 

“She’s not safe here, Doc.”

Paul downed his shot of whiskey and nodded.  “I believe you’re right, Son.  Do you have a plan?”

“I’ll stay until she’s ready to be moved.  Then, I’ll take her out to the ranch.  This time, we’ll have armed guards twenty-four hours a day.”

“All right.”

I changed my focus from Doc to Candy.  He’d been quiet all this time, a damn good friend, and never intrusive.  I appreciated that in a man.  “I want you to ride home.  Tell Pa what happened and that I’ll be home when I can.”

“Sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“You go.  I’ll take care of things here.”

When all was said and done, Candy left for home.  Doc grabbed his bag and headed out to see some patients in town who were too feeble to come and see him.  Since I was the only one left in the office, I locked the front and back doors, kept my sidearm loaded and ready, and took up residence in an overstuffed chair next to Belle’s bed.

Seeing her sleep and appreciating how peaceful she looked nearly brought tears to my eyes.  She’d been through so much and survived a bastard of a husband that I figured she could face anything the world shoved at her and come out a winner.  This gal was strong and determined.  Even with matted hair and sallow skin, she looked beautiful to me.

The day was long and I fell asleep in the chair.  When I woke, it took me a minute to orient myself and realize why I’d crashed like dead weight in Paul’s bedside chair.  I didn’t know how tired I was.  Playing bodyguard and being on high alert was exhausting, but sleeping on duty was against all the rules.  My back was stiff.  I shifted in my seat, and that’s when I noticed a set of blue eyes staring up at me. 

Busted!

She must think me a fool.  She’d watched her protector—her gallant hero—sleep like a baby.  “I must’ve dozed off,” I said.  She didn’t speak.  She continued to stare, and I felt as low as low could be.

“Come lay with me.”

“What?”

“Lay beside me.”

“No … I shouldn’t.”

“Please?”

I stood and looked around the room as if someone was watching, but it was silly.  If someone was in the room, it would be Doc or her asshole husband, and it would be too late to draw my gun and rid the house of the would-be assailant.

Belle was curled on her side.  I crawled onto the bed behind her, lay my left arm across her waist, and let my hand fall to the mattress.  She reached for my hand,  pulling my arm across her breast and edging tighter against my body.

Improper as it may have been, I lay next to a married woman, and nothing in my brain told me to jump up and run away.  I liked the feeling.  I had to put Pa and his good sense out of my mind.  He’d never approve and neither would Paul Martin, who might walk through the door any time.

I hadn’t been this close to a woman since Alice and I shared a bed.  Was I ready to move on or trying to convince myself that’s what society expected me to do?  I never thought that time would come, and I still wasn’t sure.  My body and my brain were at odds with each other and turned my thinking into a jumbled mess of contradictions.

I’d always found enough work to keep me busy through daylight hours, but the nights were long and sleep was hard to come by.  If I could’ve worked day and night, I would have, but life didn’t work that way.  That’s the only way I could make it through the day after the fire.  I was lost and feared my life was over.  How does a man bury his wife and child when there’s nothing left but ashes?

Pa worried day and night.  I could see it in his eyes and the deep lines that formed.  Telltale signs that he wasn’t faring much better than I.

And then came Belle.  Savior or the demise of Joe Cartwright?

Did she know my nerves were on fire?  Could she feel the beat of my heart?  Would she sense that I knew this was wrong and longed to let my left-hand roam across her soft, white breasts? 

As soon as she fell asleep, I eased myself from the bed and took up residence in the chair.  I’d never leave her alone, but lying beside her wasn’t the answer either.  Paul would think me a cad and Pa … I didn’t want to think what would go through his mind.  I wasn’t a kid, but pulling a stunt like that made me feel like one.

I stayed with Belle for another two days.  Doc popped his head in numerous times and always pronounced improvement.  Maybe he saw progress, but I couldn’t see past all the cuts and bruises marring her soft, white skin.  We spoke little.  She slept while I watched and waited for Ezra.  Did he want us both dead?  Was that the plan?  Belle couldn’t take much more.  I didn’t have to be a doctor to know how badly she’d been beaten this time and how long her recovery would be.  I even turned to prayer.  My father had always been a true believer.  I didn’t think it would hurt to ask Him to watch over my friend.

By day three, she was ready to sit up in bed and try some simple conversation.  She seemed pleased to see that I kept my promise, that I never left her side while her body healed. 

“I’m taking you back to the Ponderosa as soon as you’re able.”

“Why?  Why are you doing this for me, Joe?  You barely know me.”

I shifted in my chair.  How much could I tell her?  I didn’t want to push her away.  I had to take it slow and give her time to love me back.  “I know you’re a good person, and you don’t deserve a husband like Ezra.  If you’ll let me, I’ll find an attorney and we’ll get you divorced.”

“I don’t understand.  I can’t pay you back.  I have nothing.”

“Don’t you get it, Belle?  Isn’t it obvious?  I love you, dammit.”  There.  It was said.  “I hope someday you’ll feel the same.”

Chapter 12

Miracles happen, and I would soon become the luckiest man on earth.  After almost a week of recovering at Doc’s, Belle agreed to come back to the Ponderosa with me.  Although I wasn’t sure how things stood between us, I kept my hopes alive.  I’d expressed my feelings loud and clear, but she kept hers to herself.

I promised to watch over her.  I promised she’d be safe.  Pa, the permanent hands, and I would do a better job of watching over her.  There’s no way Ezra Shaw could sneak onto the ranch and take his wife so he could teach her another lesson.  I promised that would never happen again. 

In time, Belle came into her own.  She learned to trust me and the people around her.  She wasn’t a common whore, but it took time to convince her that she was worth more than that.  She was a lady, as good as any of the so-called socialites of Storey County and because she was eager to learn all the social graces, I was happy to teach her the ropes. 

I found that her high-pitched giggle was similar to mine, and that drove everyone crazy.  When we each got tickled over some ridiculous notion, the ranch house exploded with laughter.  I could see the gleam in Pa’s eyes when Belle entered the room.  He hadn’t been taken with her at first.  He thought I’d lost my mind, but the tide had turned and he realized she might be worth saving.

“You’ve done a fine job, Son.”

“I had good reason.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“I hope you’ll approve of what I’m about to say.”

“I’ve never doubted your ability to make good decisions.”

“There was a time, Pa.”

My father covered the growing smile with his right hand.  “It’s been a lot of years since I questioned your good sense, Joseph.”

I squatted down in front of Pa.  “I’m going to ask Belle to marry me, and I’d like your blessing.”

Pa reached for my shoulder and squeezed hard.  “She’s a lovely woman, Son, and I think you’ll be good together.  You always have my blessing.”

As the years go by, I often remember the early days, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the past.  My father and I have been through a lot.  We were the four Cartwrights, riding and protecting the perimeters of my father’s dream.  I will always protect his dream, and if I have Belle by my side, I feel we can accomplish anything we set our minds to.

The first miracle happened on a sunny, summer morning when Belle and I drove into town for supplies.  She carried Hop Sing’s list and had even added a few things of her own.  Being a Southern lady, she had become the biscuit- making queen of the Ponderosa.  “Buttermilk.”  That’s all she said.  Hop Sing sang her praises, and that was a first.  If Hoss had still been alive, he’d have eaten the entire platter of Southern delights.

Just after giving Jake our list of supplies, I noticed Clem Foster waving his hat above his head.  He was heading our way.  I took hold of Belle’s hand, and we started up the boardwalk toward the man who’d taken over for Roy when he retired. 

“Clem.  What’s up?”

In a breathy voice, he pulled out a telegram and said,  “Here.  Read this.”  Even though I’d extended my hand in order to receive the missive, he handed it to Belle.  I was bewildered at first, but it could only mean one thing, and I prayed I was right.

She looked up at me and smiled.  “He’s dead.”

Smiling was in bad taste, but I couldn’t hold back my emotions.  Belle handed me the telegram to read.  The man she’d married when she was fifteen years old had been shot down early yesterday morning during a bank robbery.  After finding out he had an estranged wife, the sheriff in Carson City wanted permission to bury her husband’s remains in the city’s Boot Hill.

“Yes,” she said to Clem.  Tell them yes.”

“I’ll wire the sheriff right now, Ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

After Clem turned to walk away, I picked Belle up off the ground and swung her round and round.  “You’re free, Mrs. Shaw.”

“I’m free, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Let’s celebrate.”

“Now?”

“Tonight.”  I pushed a stray hair from her face.  “I want you to get all dolled up and we’ll do the town.”

“All right.”

““`

We didn’t have time to drive home and back again, and I booked two rooms at the International House.  Second, neither of us had the proper attire for a night on the town.  After walking Belle down to Madeline’s Dress Shop, I told the clerk to spare no expense.  I wanted only the finest for the most beautiful woman in Virginia City.

“Take your time, Belle.  I’ll be back in an hour.”  I had shopping of my own to do.

By late afternoon, I’d had a bath and sported a new suit of clothes.  I didn’t look half bad, but I was more than anxious to see my girl outfitted to the nines.  With her new clothing boxed and tied with a pink ribbon, I couldn’t see what she bought.  I liked surprises, and I figured Belle would do her best to shock me with her appearance.

If the woman I loved agreed to marry me and if we decided to live in the house with Pa then indoor plumbing was the first thing on my list of renovations.  The International had done just that.  No longer did bellboys have to tote buckets of water up several flights of stairs.  It was pure nineteenth-century luxury.

As soon as I dressed in my finest, I slipped the ring I’d ordered from the most reputable San Francisco jeweler inside my vest pocket and knocked on Belle’s adjoining door. 

“Belle?”

“Yes?”

“Are you decent?”

“Come in, Joe.”

When I opened the door, I realized I hadn’t heard her right.  “I’m sorry.  I … I … ”

“Don’t go.”

Belle sat at the dressing table.  Although she faced the mirror and had to back to the door, she was buck-naked, and my face flushed in several shades of red.

When she stood from the chair and started across the room, I was torn between slamming the door and running back to my room or taking her in my arms and caressing her pale, white skin.  I gave in to the latter and drew her close.  With my hands encasing her waist, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, but I didn’t want things to go this way.  I wanted her to wear my ring before we did anything that was socially unacceptable.  Should I change my plans?  Was it mandatory that we have a candlelit supper at Luigi’s? 

I leaned back and stared into the eyes of the woman I wanted to marry.  Taking her hand, I guided her back toward the dressing table and pressed her into the standard wooden chair.  After kneeling in front of her, I reached inside my vest pocket and pulled out the ruby and diamond ring.

“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Joe …”

“That’s not an answer, Ma’am.”

“Oh, Joe.  Of course, I’ll marry you.”  I slipped the ring on, and kissed the top of her hand before she pulled it away to stare at her jeweled finger.  “It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

She skimmed her fingers up the back of my neck and played with the longer strands of my hair.  “I love it.”

After pulling her to her feet and lifting her from the chair, I laid her on the bed and lowered myself beside her.  As I ran the back of my fingers between her breasts, and down her belly, she raised the knee farthest from me and reached for my hand.  Taking the initiative, she guided me between her legs so my fingers could wander inside the warmth of her body.

Maybe we should’ve waited, but laying in the same bed alongside my beautiful fiancée brought more joy than I’d felt in a long time.  We explored each other’s bodies, and we satisfied each other until the sun peaked over the mountains and birdsong filled the air.  Even though I was a middle-aged man, I felt a slight pang of guilt, but was it wrong to make love to the woman I loved and planned to marry?

Epilogue:

The only place Belle considered having her wedding was on an autumn weekend at the ranch house.  She envisioned Pa helping her down the staircase and me holding her up during the ceremony.  “My nerves will be running amuck, you know.”

“I understand.  This isn’t easy for me either.”

“If you want to back out, you better say it now.”

“Me?  Back out?  Are you crazy?”

“Well?”

“I’ve waited all my life for you, Belle.  You’re every man’s dream come true, and you settled for me.”

“Settled?  Is that what you think?  Do I need to show you how settled I feel?”

“Anytime you want.”

She took my hand and led me upstairs to the room of my birth.  This would all change after we were married.  We already had plans for a larger room with one of those newfangled bathrooms – a large, clawfoot tub, shaving sink, and a flushing toilet.  The possibilities were endless but Belle and I worked out only what was necessary for everyday comfort.

Though she wasn’t a fancy girl, she was more than happy to help plan our special room and give it a woman’s stamp of approval.  She was by my side during the planning and added touches only a woman would think of.  Larger windows.  Light and bright.  “I’d rather not live in a cave, Joe.”

My life was almost complete.  In two weeks I’d be a married man.  When Alice died, I thought my life was over and the chance meeting with Belle changed everything.  I wasn’t looking for love.  In fact, I planned to drink more than I should have that day, but when she burst through the batwing doors, something clicked inside me.  I felt alive for the first time in months.  The feeling was more than I could ask for.  When I set my beer down on the polished bar and moved to aid the fallen girl, my heart beat like a base drum. 

Love at first sight?  I never believed it before, but I do now.  Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Francis Cartwright were ready to begin their new adventure together.

The End

7-2023

Charlotte

By Bakerj

Chapter One

Each day, I must’ve gotten out of bed and done my chores.  Taken part in branding and sweated over that fire pit ‘til my shirt was drenched.  I must’ve bossed the cattle drives and pushed two or more hundred head of ornery steers over those mountains and high desert to Sacramento.  I must’ve talked to Pa about ranch business and Jamie about college.  Laughed, drank, and did all those things men do.  Even had fun.  I just don’t remember it being so aimless until she came.

I took her for buggy rides, and she took away my pain.  I gave her flowers, and she gave me hope.  When she accepted my ring, I accepted the promise of a new future.  And all in less than a month.  A whirlwind courtship, Pa called it.  But I wasn’t prepared to waste time.  Not anymore.  Hoss and Alice had changed that.

I needn’t have bothered to turn up the lamp.  When Charlotte entered the room, she lit it brighter than sunshine.

“Here you are.  I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“What did I do?”

I couldn’t help but smile when that soft, delicious laugh like warm syrup slipped out.  “Nothing, silly.  Dinner will be ready soon and—”  She broke off, put her hands on her hips, and narrowed her eyes.  “Joseph Cartwright, do you have a guilty conscience?”

My arm wrapped around her inviting waist, and I looked down into those sapphire eyes.  They’d been the first things I’d noticed, which wasn’t surprising.  Her plain dress had been almost drab, and she’d worn no trinkets, pendants, or ribbons designed to catch a man’s attention.  But she couldn’t do anything to hide those eyes. 

“The only thing I’m guilty of is not kissing my wife for hours.”

Her giggle dissipated when my lips brushed hers.  Their softness yielded to mine and set my heart racing.  My kiss deepened.  I pulled her tight so she could feel my rising excitement.  Her hand came up to my neck, where slim fingers entwined in my hair.

The sound of a throat being cleared snapped our heads around.  Through the open doorway, Candy stood in the hall.  He reached forward and grabbed the door handle, a grin spreading over his face.  “Don’t mind me.”

The door closed. 

“Dammit.  I gotta finish our house.”

“It’s all right.  You’ve got enough to do.”

I kissed her again.  She was a darling.  Almost six months married and still waiting for that home of her own.  Not many would be so understanding, but building couldn’t start during the winter, and then Pa broke his leg, and the responsibility of the whole ranch fell on my shoulders.  The house became one more thing on a growing ‘to-do’ list.  But, right now, there was only one thing on my mind.  The key turned under my fingers, locking the door with a click. 

***

Chapter Two

“Careful, careful.”

“I am being careful.”  Slipping the cushion under Pa’s ankle, I lowered the cast down to rest on it.  “There, that should do it.”

Pa huffed and readjusted his position in the chair.  Being an invalid wasn’t going down well with my father.  And everyone said I was the lousy patient.

I thanked Candy, who helped me assist Pa to the porch.  He grinned.  “I’d better get started.”

“I’ll catch you up.”

Pa watched him walk away before asking, “How’s it going?”

“Good.”  At the face he pulled, I added, “I know we’re behind.”  Hearing the sharp edge to my words, I grit my teeth.  Pa cut me a look.  “Sorry.”

Waving me into the seat next to him, he patted my knee.  “I know you’ve got a lot on.  You’re doing a good job.  I’m proud of you.”

The size of the lump in my throat surprised me.  “Thanks.”

“I know how hard it is.  Doing all this without Hoss.  It might be three years since we lost him, but ….”  He trailed off.  I closed my hand over his, and Pa squeezed my knee.  We took the moment needed before he removed his hand and motioned toward his cast.  “And then I had to go break my leg!”

“I’m just grateful it was only your leg.”  My stomach froze again, remembering how Candy had ridden in like the devil was on his heels, yelling Pa’d had an accident.  It had been like Hoss all over again.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah.  Anything else you need?”

Pa tapped the documents on the table beside him.  The renewals to the water rights, he would read through.  “Nope.  I’m fine.”

***

The ache in my back made me happy to climb off Cochise.  It was on days like these I missed Hoss the most.  He could always make a tough one pass a lot easier.

Candy was coming down the stairs as I closed the door.  Even washed up, he looked as tired as I felt. 

Pa laid aside his book.  “Rough day, son?”

I straightened my shoulders.  “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“You’re home!”  I opened my arms to welcome Charlotte into them.  My exhaustion lifted the moment hers were around me.  “Dinner’s ready.  Go wash up.”

“Come help me?” I teased.

She couldn’t stop the blush as the memory of last night’s activity rushed back, but she was made of stern stuff and wasn’t off guard for long.  Flapping her hands, she shooed me away.  “Be off.  I’m helping Hop Sing.”

Grinning, I did as I was bid.

***

Pa wiped the napkin over his lips.  “My dear, thank you.  That was delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.  It’s only Rouladen.  A recipe handed down through my mother’s family.”

“I’ve never had beef cooked that way before.”

“It was a favorite of ours.”

“I can see it becoming a favorite here, too.”

I smiled to see my wife’s cheeks turn pink with delight at Pa’s simple words of praise.  It surprised me to hear her mention her mother.  She never talked much about her past, other than she’d lived in St. Louis and her folks had recently passed.  There was tragedy there, I was sure, even though she hadn’t shared it.  But I wasn’t worried.  When the time was right, she would, the same way I’d shared mine. 

“Missy Charlotte, good cook.  Little Joe get plenty of good food when they move into home of own.”

“You wanna get rid of me?”

Hop Sing took my empty plate and glared at me.  “Hop Sing, just be glad to feed people who appreciate cooking and no come late to lunch.”

“Sorry, Hop Sing.”

“You no want eat burnt chicken.  You quit working and be on time.”

I laughed at our cook’s way of telling me not to work so hard.  There was too much to do for me to heed him, but I appreciated his concern.

“C’mon,” said Pa, “let’s have coffee by the fire.”

Handing Pa his crutches, Candy and I hovered, ready to help if needed.  Stubborn as heck, he wasn’t about to accept any from the two of us, but when Charlotte placed the cushion on the table and lifted his leg to rest on it, he made no complaint and even thanked her.  Over Pa’s head, Candy and I exchanged looks.  I grinned when Candy rolled his eyes. 

I settled on the sofa, and Charlotte tucked in beside me.  It might be the beginning of May, and the days getting warmer, but the cold nights made a fire welcome.  I dozed under its influence and Charlotte’s presence until a tender finger ran down my cheek and woke me.

“Time for bed?” She murmured.

I glanced behind at the clock.  Just after eight, but I was beat.

“Good idea.  You be okay, Pa?”

Since we’d brought him home with his broken leg, he’d slept in the downstairs bedroom.  This enabled him to be as self-sufficient as possible, but he still needed help.

“Hop Sing can help me.  Candy, I suggest you do the same.”

I grinned at my foreman.  When you lived under our roof, you ran the risk of Pa ordering you to bed.  Candy’s easy smile appeared, and he rose without a word.  I think he was glad to have the excuse to turn in.

We said goodnight.  I tumbled into bed, content to hold my beautiful wife in my arms, drifting off to sleep with my cheek resting on her soft, golden locks.

***

Chapter Three

After thumbing through the mail, I stuffed it into my pocket.  Most looked like ranch business, but I recognized Jamie’s handwriting on one.  He must’ve gotten Pa’s letter about the wedding.  We’d all agreed not to wire him.  No way could he have gotten back from college in time to attend, and neither of us wanted him caught this side of the Sierras, unable to get back until the Spring.  Pa’s suggestion we postpone, I’d put to bed.  Jamie or no Jamie, I was getting married before winter.

Before riding out, I checked in with the men collecting the supplies.  Everything was in order, and I left them to it.  I needed to visit the mine.

John McGowin wasn’t much for small talk, but he knew his business.  I followed the movement of his calloused finger over the chart as he pointed out the shaft he proposed closing and traced the direction of the new one he wanted to open.  After approving the plans, I left him to it and headed home. 

Preoccupied with planning upcoming chores, it was a good job Cooch knew the way.  Planting for hay and winter feed needed to begin, and we were overdue starting on breaking the horses to fulfill our annual contract for the army.  Roundup, branding, and the spring drive also needed to be prepared for.  This year I wasn’t going.  I’d decided to hire a trail boss.  The man came highly recommended.  All I had to do was agree his fee and sign the contract. 

Drawing in a breath, I looked around me.  The Ponderosa took some running.  I was getting a grip on it, but one job posed a big question.  The annual ‘Grand Swing’ was due.  The one certain time each year when a Cartwright would visit the crews and men in the outlying camps.  No way Pa would be going, laid up like he was.  But how could I desert him?  I decided to talk it through.

I’d missed lunch, so I grabbed a sandwich after handing the mail to Pa.

“Where’s Charlotte?” I asked when I came back from the kitchen.

“Visiting Kate Clark.”

Steve Clark was among the growing number of Ponderosa hands with a family.  Now the territory was settled, more and more men were marrying or bringing out their families.  We were happy to accommodate them, giving them a cabin and a garden to grow vegetables.  Charlotte was keen to help Kate, who’d recently given birth.  I figured it would be good practice and didn’t complain.

Pa held up Jamie’s letter.  “Jamie says he understands about the wedding.”

Something in his tone let me know that wasn’t the case.  I dropped my sandwich onto my plate and perched on the table’s edge.  “He’s upset.”

“We knew he would be.”

“I’ll make it up to him when he visits in the summer.”  I bit my lip.  Pa could still reduce me to a kid with a look.  “Fine.  I’ll write.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that.  Now, how did things go at the mine?”

I filled Pa in on the morning activity, and he agreed with my idea to break more ground to increase our feed crops.  Then I broached the subject of the ‘Grand Swing’.

“Of course, you should go.  This cast will be off in a couple of weeks.  I’m not helpless.  Candy and the other men can help if I need any.  Why don’t you take Charlotte along?”

“What?  She won’t want to spend over a week camping out.”

“Why don’t you ask her and find out?”

Pa was crazy.  No woman would want to rough it the way we’d have to.  But I said I’d ask.

The skirt she was about to hang in the closet dropped on the bed, and Charlotte squeaked, “Together?  Just the two of us?  Oh, I’d love that.  It would be our wedding break.”

Crossing the room to slip into my lap, she flung her arms around my neck before planting a kiss on my cheek.  I gaped at her.  “I know we didn’t get one at the time, but I’d planned to take you to San Francisco.  Buy you the latest dresses, take you to the opera, and the fanciest restaurants.”

Charlotte wrinkled her little nose.  “I can go to Virginia City for that.  Anything there is just as good as San Francisco.  What I want is time with my husband.  Just you and me, together.”

Her blue eyes gazed into mine.  Images of nights alone, cuddled together beside the campfire, flitted across my mind.  I began to come around, but I wanted her to be sure.  “It would mean sleeping out, washing in creeks, eating beans and bacon.”

“I don’t care if it meant I would have to run around naked.”

“Well, if that’s what you want.” 

My fingers freed the top buttons on her blouse and then released the bow on her chemise, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the flesh underneath.  My hand slipped through, allowing me to cup her breast.   My simple move lit a flame in my wife.  Eager lips found and devoured mine, and hoisting her skirts, Charlotte turned to straddle me. 

Her palm, flat on my chest, pressed me back against the chair, pinning me down.  The smile on her face, a mingle of triumph and teasing.  Her intensity took me by surprise.  Our lovemaking had always been enjoyable for both, but I’d always taken the lead.  This was a different woman. 

My eyebrows and temperature rose when her hand pushed down to my groin, liberating my manhood.  She didn’t waste time undressing any unnecessary parts.  Her soft womanhood pressed against me, and my arousal climbed to match the need I heard in her voice when she groaned into my ear, “Take me, Joe.  Take me now.”

Excited though I was, wonder shook me.  “Here?”

Her mouth traced a warm, moist line over my cheek back to mine.  Her teeth teased and pulled my bottom lip.  “Why not?”

Fire balled in my abdomen when she wrapped her hand around my member.  She knew how to take me past resistance – then her thumb moved to caress the tip.

“Oh, God.  Charlotte—”

Through the haze of my ardor, Charlotte’s face appeared.  I looked into the eyes of my wife.  No longer demure, they shone with sultry passion and lust.  Lifting her hips, she sank over me.  The silken warmth that embraced me drew a guttural moan from the center of my being.  Her soft words set me on fire.  “I want you.”

I tasted her salty sweat when our lips met.  The slow, steady rise and fall of her hips fueled my fire.  We broke our kiss only when she picked up speed.  Fingers sank deep into my shoulders.  She rode me with the same joy I did a bronc.  I clung to her hips, letting her delicious abandon drive me to the edge.  When she tightened her muscles, I tumbled into euphoria.  Panting, we collapsed together.  

“Where did that come from?” I asked when I got my breath back.

She giggled.  “Can’t a wife surprise her husband?”

“You can surprise me like that anytime.”  I wondered if Charlotte and the other wives talked about more than how to pickle walnuts.  But I wasn’t going there.  I took her face between my hands.  My kiss was gentle and slow.  “I love you.”  When tears sprang to her eyes, concern rippled through me.  “What’s wrong?”

“It scares me sometimes.”

“What?”

“How lucky I am.  Don’t ever leave me.”

I hugged her tight.  Life had taught me that was an impossible promise to keep, but I made it anyway.

***

Chapter Four

Snagging an apple from the bowl on the table, I dropped onto the sofa and propped my feet up. 

“Saw Duncan leaving as I rode up.”

Pa’s eyes traveled to my feet, but said nothing.  “He came to tell me he’s selling the farm.”

“What?” I spluttered through my mouthful.  A neighbor for over twenty years, Duncan McCray’s son had been a friend of Hoss until he’d gone to medical school in Pennsylvania, where he stayed to set up his practice.

“He says since losing Martha, his heart’s not in it anymore.”

“Real shame to lose a good neighbor.”  I tucked one hand under my armpit and took another bite, letting the sweetness swirl around my mouth while I thought on the news.  “That’s a fine piece of land.”  I broke off at the expression on Pa’s face and sat up, taking my feet off the table.  “He’s given you first refusal!”

Pa grinned.  “He has.  I said I needed to speak to you first.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.  That farm will give us the extra winter feed we need.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“What’s he asking?”

Pa told me and added I could ride over tomorrow and seal the deal.  I stretched and plopped my feet back on the table.  The farm would be a valuable purchase, and the timing was perfect.  Things were looking good.

But life rarely runs a smooth course.

We rode in slumped over our horses, our faces grey, and not just from the smoke that clung to our clothes, hair, and skin. 

It was sheer luck that Charlotte and I had stepped outside to gaze at the stars before turning in.  Living where we did, you learned to recognize the signs of fire.  And, besides, I’d seen that kind before.  The bell, pulled with furious intent, had clanged out its incendiary alarm.  I’d left Candy to organize the men and jumped bareback on Cochise.  I needed to get to those inside the cabin.

The house was silent when we entered.  A single lamp threw grotesque shadows on the walls, but my gaze went to Charlotte, waiting in the blue chair. 

She came to me.  I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t.  Taking my arm, she led me to the stairs.  She told Candy about coffee or brandy in the kitchen, but it wasn’t until she closed the door of our room that she spoke to me, “Would you like a brandy?”

I shook my head, unable to speak over the lump in my throat.  She took me to the chair.  I didn’t object when she eased me into it.  Kneeling, she pulled off my boots.  I couldn’t find the energy to help.  The warm, wet cloth against my face forced me to focus.  She’d prepared everything.  The brandy and glass on the dresser, the warm water, soap, and cloth to wash off the smut.

After she cleaned my face, she knelt again and started on my hands, but her eyes were fixed on mine.

“What happened?”  I lowered my head, reluctant to remember, but she persisted.  “You need to talk.”

Too tired to resist, I did as she wanted.  “It was Steve and Kate’s place.”  She nodded.  That much had gotten back to her and Pa.  “They were asleep.  When I got there, the front of the cabin was ablaze.  I couldn’t get through the door.  It was like—”  I broke off and closed my eyes, struggling to back off from the memories that assaulted me.  “I broke through the bedroom window.  There was so much smoke.  I couldn’t wake them, so I carried them out.”

Others from the nearest cabins had begun to turn out by then.  Doubled over from coughing, I’d waved them to start dousing the place.  The woman who came running gathered around the family.  I left them to their care, not realizing….  But we had to keep the flames from jumping to the tree line.  I could still feel the heat prickling my skin like it did that other terrible night.  Looking down at my hands, I half-expected to see them shrouded in bandages.  Entwining my fingers, my knuckles turn white.

“Joe?”  Charlotte’s quiet voice dragged me back to the present.  “What else?”

“The cabin was a loss, but we kept the fire from spreading.  At least we did that much.”  I stopped and leaned forward to drop my forehead into my hand.  My throat worked.  The words too hard to get out.

She held my other hand tight and secure.  “Tell me.”

My eyes stung, not from the smoke but from the tears I fought back.  “Steve and Kate woke up.  Coughing and sick, but they were okay.  But … she didn’t.  She just stopped breathing.  I guess she was too small and the smoke too much.”

“The baby.”

My head snapped up.  “If I’d spotted it earlier.  Gotten there sooner.  I swear, I got her out first.  But I took too long trying to get in the front.  If I’d—”

Her hands clamped on either side of my face.  “Don’t!  You did everything you could.”

I looked into those eyes and saw the truth gazing back at me.  She slipped forward and pulled me into a hug. 

“I tried to get them to come back to the house.  Kate preferred to stay with Sarah Murphy.”

Charlotte released me and sat back on her heels.  “They’re friends.”

I nodded again, dragged in a breath, and fought down the shaking that rose from my stomach.  My hands were dead weights, but I pushed them into the arms of the chair and hauled myself up.  “I need to tell Pa.”

“It’s all right.  Candy will do that.”  Her words confirmed my suspicions.  My wife had handled my father and organized for us to be alone.  “Let’s get you to bed.”

I let her strip off my clothes like a child.  Cocooned in her arms, the warmth of her body thawed my chilled flesh.  The stench of the smoke lingered in my hair and clawed back down my throat.  I thrust it back, willing away the stink and the memories it conjured.  But they came anyway.  I tried to choke back the tears.  This grief was mine, not Charlotte’s.  “I’m sorry.”

Soft lips kissed my hair, and her arms tightened, drawing me close. I turned into my wife and wept.  She understood, and I loved her more than ever.

***

Chapter Five

My boots scrunched over scorched wood.  Nothing was left of the cabin except a pile of stones from the collapsed fireplace.  The ground would be cleared, but I wouldn’t rebuild here.  I’d picked out a new spot.  We’d all be at the funeral tomorrow, and Pa had instructed the undertaker to send us the bill.  Steve worked for us.  It was our responsibility.

My arm slipped around Charlotte when she joined me.

“How is she?”

“She’s strong.  She’ll be all right.”

Strong.  Sure.  To survive here, you needed to be strong.  My arm tightened, drawing Charlotte closer, grateful for what I found in this woman.  It was something to treasure since nothing was certain.  Life had a cruel way of proving that.

***

Steve Clark stood across the desk from me, turning his hat in his hands.  “I’m sorry, Joe.  We appreciate all you’ve done, and it ain’t that we’re not grateful, but Kate wants to spend time with her sister.  After what happened, I don’t rightly feel I can say no.”

“You don’t need to explain.  We’ll be sorry to lose you.  When do you plan on leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I’ll have your pay and reference ready for you.  And Steve, you’ve got a job here anytime you want.”

He took my hand.  “Thanks.  I appreciate that.”

It was a blow.  A good hand, Steve, would be missed.  But they had no ties to the Ponderosa, nothing to keep them here after such a loss.  I broke the news to Pa and Candy over lunch.

“I’ll put the word out in Virginia City, see what comes of it.  I’d like to get the new man in place before we leave on the swing.”

Charlotte sighed.  “I can’t wait.”

I laughed.  “See if you still feel that way after a few nights sleeping out.”

Candy tore his bread in half.  “And when you get back, you can look forward to roundup.  Three more weeks sleeping on the range.”

“Three?” Pa queried.

“Yeah.  I’ve decided to get the branding done at the range camp.  It’s more efficient and will save time, but it’s too far to ride home and back each day.”

“You mean I won’t see you for three weeks?”

Pa smiled at Charlotte.  “We could take a ride out, watch the branding?”

“I don’t think Charlotte will want to see that.”

“Oh, Joe,” Charlotte reproved.  “I can take seeing a calf branded.”

“We don’t just brand them.”

“Yeah.  The steers are for market, not mating,” Candy added.

Tilting her head, Charlotte asked, “How does that work?”

Candy gave her a wink.  “With a real sharp pair of shears.”

I rolled my eyes at my foreman.  Realization hit my wife, and she bit her lip.  “Oh.  Yes.  I’m not sure I’d want to see that.”

Patting her hand, I put the matter to bed.  “I agree.”

***

I halted my walk from the barn when the wagon rolled in.  Hands on hips, I waited for it to stop before approaching.

“Howdy.  Can I help?”

“Are you, Cartwright?”

“One of them.  Joe Cartwright.  What can I do for you?”

“I hear you’re looking to hire.”

Scratching my chin, I summed the man up.  He had the air of a guard dog, wary and mean.  My gaze flicked to the young woman sitting next to him, who looked back with large, anxious eyes. 

“You got experience?”

“Plenty.  I got references.”

Surprised, I raised my brows.  The man’s name was Tate Wilson, but the references didn’t say much.  Just enough, but nothing more.  “You don’t stay in one place long.”

“We like to move around.”  As if sensing my reluctance, he added, “I ain’t a drinker, and I’m a hard worker.”

“Okay.  Pay’s thirty dollars a month.  Married couples get a cabin.”

“Sounds good.”

Calling one of the men to show them the way, I watched the wagon roll out, hoping I hadn’t made a mistake.

***

Chapter Six

I’d been on my share of the packhorse swing trips with Pa and always enjoyed the time together, but this one would always be my favorite.  The Ponderosa had never looked so beautiful, yet Charlotte put it in the shade. 

Although never shy, Charlotte was reserved, and pride filled my chest each time I introduced her and saw her efforts to charm the crusty, experienced hands who spent most of the year alone.  When we reached the East Camp, Betsy Rush and her daughter greeted us.

“Clint will be pleased to see you,” she enthused.

I picked up their three-year-old and tickled her under the chin.  “Where is he?”

“He and Tom are fixing the windmill on the west section.”  Tom was the extra hand I’d talk Pa into hiring to work with Clint.  The breeding operation had warranted it, and this gave Clint an extra pair of hands to help extend his home to accommodate the growing family.  “Come in and meet Clint Junior.”

We sat at the table in her neat kitchen while Betsy poured coffee and served a slice of her famous apple pie.  Charlotte cuddled the babe, cooing and praising as women do.  She stroked the pink cheek and explored the tiny hands and feet.  The softness that entered her eyes when they lingered on the child shifted the sands of my memories to disturb buried feelings, thoughts of what might have been laid their sad fingers on my soul.  I shook them off.  The past was done.  My future sat before me.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Charlotte asked.

“Sure is.”

Betsy laughed.  “Menfolk can’t be bothered with other folks’ babes.”

I denied the accusation only to be laughed at by them both.  The arrival of Clint saved me from further mockery.  Clint slapped me on the back.  “Let’s leave the womenfolk to their chattering.”

Grinning, I followed him outside.  I was happy to leave them to talk.  Betsy could do with the female company.  Living in an outlying camp wasn’t an easy life for a woman.

Clint insisted we stay the night, and bacon, eggs, beans, fried potatoes, and biscuits greeted us in the morning.

“Betsy, you’re spoiling us,” I told her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“You heading to the South Camp next?” Clint asked as I piled some eggs onto my plate.

“Yeah.  Pa wants me to see how Mac’s doing.  Not every man can take being alone like that.”

“How’s ol’ Coop taking to life back among folks?”

Bill Cooper had manned the South Camp for over ten years.  Retired from that post last year, we’d moved him back to the bunk house.  I scratched my head.  “Well, he’s getting used to it.”

Clint laughed at what I didn’t say.  He knew Coop better than anyone. 

We said our goodbyes and headed out.  Quiet for a long time, I glanced over at Charlotte.  “You, all right?”

She smiled.  “Oh, just wishing and dreaming.”

I didn’t need to ask what about.  I moved Cochise closer and put out my hand.  Her fingers slipped between mine.  “Me too.”

The time and miles slipped by like Charlotte’s silk ribbons through my fingers.  Side by side, we gazed into the crackling fire while she listened to my plans.  It was easy to keep talking while those eyes were fixed on me, wide with interest and love.  When I stopped and gazed deep into them, it was easy to do something else.

Each day, Charlotte appeared more and more at home.  When I’d met her, she’d almost dumped steak and eggs in my lap.  I could see she hadn’t been a waitress for long.  Used to city living, the Ponderosa had been a big change.  But she sure took to it.

Teaching her to ride had been a pure pleasure.  Graceful in the saddle as she was out of it, I couldn’t get enough of watching her move with the horse.  The sight still sent a thrill through me.

“What?”

The question broke through my daydreaming.  “Huh?”

“You’ve not said a word for ages, and now you’re staring.  Is something wrong?”

“Not from where I’m sitting.”  She smiled, and my stomach flipped.  Needing to focus, I looked about.  “We can water the horses at the creek up ahead.”

I let the horses drink, pulled off my boots and socks, and stuck my feet in the water.  With a gasp, I snatched them out when the ice-cold liquid hit.  Easing them back in, I dropped back on the ground.

From her vantage point on a rock, Charlotte shaded her eyes and gazed at the pine-covered slopes.  “Where are we?”

“Almost home.  One more night, and we’ll be back.”

Charlotte sat next to me.  Her words held a mournful edge.  “And our time alone together will be over.”

I pulled her down into my arms.  “Not for long.  I plan to get right on and finish our house.”

“Oh, Joe.  Thank you.”

With her arms around me, her soft lips on mine, the sun on my back, the grass beneath my feet, and no soul in sight, I could do only one thing.  We both enjoyed my doing it.

***

Chapter Seven

Pa was there to greet us when we rode in.  He limped toward us, leaning on a walking stick, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face at having us back.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

Hugging him, Charlotte replied, “It was wonderful.”

I’d returned with a long list of recommendations and tasks that needed to be done.  But it was worth it.  The camps were essential to the continued operation of the Ponderosa.  Pa and I went through the tasks together, prioritizing what needed to be done first and deciding who would do them.

“You did a good job.”

“Thanks.  Say, did you have any visitors while I was away?”

“Only the usual.  Why?”

“When we stopped at Clint’s, he mentioned a fella had ridden out from Indian City and asked about me.”

“Oh?  Did he say who he was?”

“Didn’t give a name.  But Clint said he asked all sorts of questions.”

“When was this?”

“A few days before we got there.”

“I shouldn’t worry.  Probably a salesman digging for information to help make a sale.”

“Yeah.  I guess.  But if he’s after selling some new contraption, he’s got the wrong Cartwright.”

Pa laughed, and his eyes took on a distant look.  “Yeah.  Your brother sure liked an invention.”

“He sure did.”  I squeezed Pa’s shoulder.  “Think I’ll ride out and take a look at those horses that Candy says are doing so well.”

“I’m glad you two enjoyed the trip.”

“Thanks for suggesting I take Charlotte.”  We exchanged smiles, and I headed out the door.

***

I kept my promise.  Every afternoon after getting ranch business done, I worked on the house.  Soon as they finished, Candy and Griff joined me to help.  It was coming along, and I was excited to show Charlotte the progress.  She seemed impressed.

“This is where the staircase will be?”

“Yep.  Four bedrooms upstairs, and the washroom next to the kitchen, same as the main house.”

“It’s a lovely big kitchen.”

“We’ll be eating there too.  I hadn’t planned a dining area.  Unless you want one?”

“No.  This is perfect.”  Gliding to the window, Charlotte gazed out.  “And the view is perfect too.”

“We can watch the sunset every evening from the front porch.  Hey.  What’s all this?”  I wiped the tears from her cheek and looked into her eyes, drowning in more. 

When she laughed, it gurgled with emotion.  “I’m just so happy.”

My hands cupped her face.  I smiled.  “Crying whenever you’re happy?  What am I going to do with you?”

“You could kiss me.”

I didn’t need telling twice.

***

Chapter Eight

“Joe?”

“Hmmm.”

“I’m worried.”

I looked up from my book.  “Worried?”

“Yes.  Have you seen Mr. Wilson’s wife?”

“Wilson?”

“The new man you hired.”

“I met her when they arrived.  Young and pretty.  Sort of,” I added in a rush.

“I don’t mean that.  I mean, have you seen the bruises?”

“Bruises?”  I closed my book and shifted in the bed.  This wasn’t going places I wanted to go.

“I’ve seen her a few times with bruises on her face and arms.  I asked the other women, and they said it’s been like that since she arrived.  I think he hits her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  But it’s not our business.”

“How can you say that?  He works for you.  You can’t just stand by while he beats his wife.”

I took Charlotte’s hand within mine.  “A few bruises?  We don’t know he caused them.”

“But—”

“I pay the man to work.  His marriage is his own affair.”

“If she’s living on the Ponderosa, it should be yours.”

Her earnestness gave me pause.  “All right.  I’ll talk to Candy, and we’ll keep an eye on him.”

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was all I was prepared to offer.  Pa had always told us to stay out of a man’s private life.  Interfering was never a good idea.  Of course, that plan didn’t always pan out, but we tried.

Reaching for the book she hadn’t been reading for the past half hour, I laid it aside with mine and turned down the lamp.  There was one way to take her mind off Mrs. Wilson. 

I feathered my lips down her neck like kissing a delicate flower.  With slow but determined purpose, my fingers moved along her shoulder to push down her nightdress.  From the top of her neck to the hollow at its base, my lips continued their journey.  The sigh she released at their touch made my pulse jump.  After Alice, I never thought I’d meet another woman who’d ignite the same feelings within me.  I wanted Charlotte to feel all the love and desire she’d blessed me with.

The white cotton of her nightdress hung in loose folds over her shoulder.  My mouth explored the breast it exposed.  The taste of her skin mingled with her favorite lavender soap.  Her arms wrapped around my back in response to my movements, and she lifted one knee to press against my hip.

I wanted nothing between us.  Breaking apart, I yanked off my nightshirt and turned my attention to Charlotte’s.  My hands slipped up her body, revealing her shimmering flesh bit by bit.  My eyes roamed over every rise and fall and curve, marveling at how nature had sculpted this woman to perfection.  Nightgown removed, I couldn’t resist exploring those beautiful crevices.  Letting my fingertips trace down and around her hip bone over the rise of her stomach and across her belly button. 

“You’re beautiful,” I told her.

She smiled and reached for me.  Long fingers wound around my neck and hair, pulling me down.  My lips found hers, and her mouth welcomed my tongue that penetrated the moist interior.  My hands continued their exploration, and our tongues began to dance as our excitement rose.

I held back.  Tonight was about her enjoyment.  I wanted to awaken sensations in her she’d never felt before.  Take her to the edge of delightful agony and then ecstasy.

Skin touched skin, and the heat stoked the fires within us.  My hands moved to her intimate parts to continue my mission of fulfillment.  The rise and fall of her hips let me know I was succeeding.  Our breathing increased in unison.  The sweat that slicked our bodies matched the moisture my probing fingers drew from her.

She broke our kiss.  Hot breath fluttered against my cheek, and her one word whispered into my ear was little more than a groan, “Now.”

We became one and tumbled over the edge together.

I rolled onto my side, pulling her with me.  I kissed her long and slow.  “I love you.”

Her hand ran down my cheek.  “I’m so glad.”

Holding her close, we drifted off to sleep.

***

Chapter Nine

Candy drew up his horse and called, “Joe.  You’d better get down to the workers’ cabins.  We’ve got trouble.”

Dismounting outside the one I’d assigned to Tate Wilson, I heard raised voices.  One was Tate’s.  The other was my wife’s.  I turned to Candy.  “Charlotte?”

He pulled a face, and I strode through the door.  On one side of the table in the small room, Tate stared at my wife, who shielded his.

“What’s going on?”

Tate turned his glare on me and pointed at Charlotte.  “That woman of yours is sticking her nose where it don’t belong.”

In response, Charlotte grabbed Mrs. Wilson and thrust her toward me.  I couldn’t miss the livid bruise on her cheek.

“Look!  Look at what this brute did.”

“This true.  You did that?”

“Yeah.  I did that.  What’s a man supposed to do when he catches his wife making up to another fella?”

I groaned.  This was why you stayed out of folk’s private business.  But I didn’t hold with hitting women.   “Something other than using your fist,” I put my hand out to Charlotte.  “C’mon, let’s go.”

“We can’t leave Eliza with him.”  My look let her know I was serious.  Charlotte’s jaw jutted, and a frown descended.  “No.  He’ll hit her again.”

“I’m sure he won’t.  Am I right?”  I gave Tate the same look.  He was in the mood to be belligerent, and I couldn’t blame him.  No man appreciates his home being invaded, but he backed down enough to give me a nod.  I turned back to Charlotte and extended my hand further.  She didn’t budge. 

“You don’t believe him?”

“He’s her husband.”

Charlotte’s hands clenched into fists.  “That doesn’t give him the right to beat her.”

“What else can I do when she acts like a whore.  I’ve got my pride.”

“You’re a pig!”

I stepped between them, stopping the man in his tracks. 

“That’s enough.  You might have the right, but keep your hands off your wife while you work for us.”

“Then I quit!”

“No!  You can’t leave.”  I winced at the distress in Charlotte’s voice, which turned to concern when she grabbed Tate’s wife’s hands.  “You don’t have to go with him.”

This was going too far.  Like it or not, they were married.  Taking Charlotte’s arm, I turned her to face me.  “She’s his wife.  She has to go.”

For a long moment, she stared at me, her look hard to interpret.  Then, after casting a glance filled with loathing at Tate, she broke away and ran from the cabin.  I let her go.  She needed time to calm down.

Tate turned to his wife.  “Start packing.” 

“Come up to the house when you’re ready, and I’ll have what we owe.” 

Tate nodded, and I left.  Guilt kicked me in the gut, but what could I do? 

Still waiting outside, Candy must’ve heard the whole thing, but my taciturn foreman said nothing until I asked, “Well?”

He raised his eyebrows.  “You won’t like it.”  He shrugged at my look.  “Little Mrs. Wilson likes to flirt.  And I mean flirt.”

“You heard this?”

“Yeah, and experienced it.  She wandered into the storage barn when I was alone.  She gives off the front of being an injured rose, but I’m telling you, that lady ain’t no lady.  Her hands were down my pants before I knew what she was doing.”  Candy looked back at the cabin as if considering the couple inside.  “I got out of there quick and warned the men to keep their distance, but I could only do so much with a girl like that.  I heard that’s why Tate moves around.” 

I shook my head.  What a mess.

Pa was alone when I walked in, standing in front of the fireplace, hands deep in his pockets.  I knew that pose well.

“Where’s Charlotte?”

“Upstairs.  What happened?  She bolted in here like a rabbit running from a fox.”

I gave Pa the facts, and he pursed his lips.  “Hmm.  Well.  You did the right thing.”

“Thanks.  I’d better go talk to her.”

When I was halfway up the stairs, he called, “Joe.  She meant well.”

“I know.”

My wife sat in the chair by the window, wiping tears from her forlorn face with a crumpled handkerchief.  When I entered, she sprang up and ran into my arms.

“I’m so sorry.  I did everything wrong.”

“It’s all right.”

“But I made things worse.  It’s thanks to me they’re leaving.  If I hadn’t, I could’ve helped her.”

“Honey, I have something to tell you.”

When I finished, Charlotte walked to the window and stood with her back to me.  “She told me he was insanely jealous.  That she couldn’t so much as look at another man without him getting furious and hitting her.  I pitied her so much, especially since ….”

Her words drifted off, but she continued to gaze out the window.  After a few moments, I prompted, “Since?”

She glanced back over her shoulder, “Oh.  Since she’s so young.”

I felt that wasn’t what Charlotte was going to say, but I didn’t press.  “If she doesn’t want to make him jealous, she knows what to do.”  When Charlotte dropped back into the chair, I asked, “You all right?”

“Other than feeling like a fool?  Yes.”

“Don’t feel bad because you cared.  That’s another reason why I love you.”  I kissed her and was pleased to see her smile.  “I’d better go.  Wilson will be up to the house wanting his pay.”

I turned in the doorway and was disturbed to see the look I couldn’t understand back on her face.  Something more than that woman’s duplicity bothered her.  Quieter than usual throughout dinner, after we climbed into bed, I asked what was wrong.

“I can’t help thinking about Eliza.   I know it wasn’t right of her to play up to those other men, but she was so unhappy.  Why shouldn’t she leave if she made a bad decision?”

I frowned.  “A marriage isn’t something you discard when it becomes tough.  It’s a commitment.  Forever.”

There was a long pause before Charlotte spoke, “Seems harsh to have to pay for one mistake your whole life.  I guess it’s true what they say.  Marry in haste, repent at leisure.”

A tingle of concern prickled over my scalp.  I twisted so I could get a better look at Charlotte’s face.  “Do you regret marrying me so quickly?”

The quiver of her flesh against mine as the giggle ran through her settled my concern.  “Of course not.”  Her warm breath tickled my chest when she laughed again and snuggled closer.  “I know how lucky I am.”

Relieved to see her dark mood lifted, I kissed the top of her head.  “That makes two of us.”

***

Chapter Ten

I looked the ‘dude’ up and down.  Dressed in a suit and garish waistcoat, he tipped his Derby hat and smiled.

“Is Mr. Joseph Cartwright at home?”  Salesman.  My gaze dropped to the floor and then out to his buggy to spot any outlandish contraptions.  There wasn’t even a bag.  “Are you Joseph Cartwright?”

“That’s right.”

“My name is Henry Moody.  I have a matter of some delicacy and importance to discuss with you.  Might I come in?”

I stepped back.  Pa moved forward, took the man’s hand, and introduced himself.  “Have a seat, Mr. Moody.  What can we do for you?”

The man smiled, and the hairs on the back of my neck raised.  He was oily enough to be a salesman.  Politician?

“I understand, Mr. Cartwright, that you were recently married.  Is your wife at home?”

My chest relaxed.  He was a salesman.  “She’s in the kitchen.  I can fetch her.”

“No.  I think it’s best she not be present for this discussion.”

I folded my arms across my chest.  “What’s this about?”

“Let me explain.  I’m married too.  My wife and I lived in St. Louis.” 

I glanced at Pa.  He was wondering where this was going, and so was I.  “And?”

“A while ago, we had some difficulties.  Disagreements that turned into arguments.  I’m ashamed to say I let things escalate.”  He stopped and took a deep breath.  “The truth is my wife ran away, and I’ve been looking for her ever since.  It took me a while to find her.  You see, I’d searched for her under my name.  But then I looked under her maiden name.  I finally tracked her down to Virginia City.  You can imagine my distress when I learned she’d done the unthinkable and married another man.”

Knots tied up my stomach, and the arms across my chest tightened.  “What’s that got to do with me?”

“Everything.  You see, her maiden name is Weaver.”

“If this is some kinda joke, mister.  It isn’t funny.”

Moody reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of paper.  Unfolding it, he held it out.  I stared at the printed words – Marriage License – before taking it between numb fingers. 

“No joke.  You see.  Charlotte Weaver is my wife.”

My fists balled into his jacket.  I had Moody out of his seat before he could form another word.  “What game are you playing?”

Pa’s hands restrained me.  “Joseph.”

“This snake can’t come into my home and make accusations against my wife.”

I dragged Moody toward the door.  He was about to get kicked through it. 

“Henry!”

My head snapped towards my wife.  “You know him?”

Color drained from Charlotte’s cheeks.  One hand kneaded into the other.  “Yes.  I … we ….”

An invisible fist smacked me in the face, and the floor rocked beneath me.  Moody disentangled himself from my frozen clutches.  I let him go.  Turning to Charlotte, I held out the crumpled license to her.  “You’re his wife?”

Where she was white before, Charlotte’s face flushed crimson.  “No!”  Her gaze snapped back to Moody.  “Why can’t you let me go?”

Moody snatched the paper from me.  “You didn’t think I would let you run away?  A husband has rights.”

“You’re not my husband!”  Charlotte spun back to me.  “He’s not!”

I couldn’t move.  What was I seeing here?  Then Charlotte stepped toward me.  God help me, I stepped back.  Hurt descended on her features.  She fled up the stairs. 

Pa moved and instructed Moody to leave.

“Of course.”  Moody carefully folded the damning document and placed it back in the inside pocket of his jacket.  “I’m staying in town at The International.  You can send her to me there.”

“I won’t be sending her anywhere.  I don’t know what game you’re playing, but Charlotte is my wife.”

Moody patted his jacket.  “I have something that says otherwise.”

Pa caught my arm to hold me in place.  With another tip of his hat, Moody left.

I walked to the fireplace.  When Pa followed, I turned to face him.  “I know what you’re gonna say.  I rushed the marriage.”

“I’d never say that.”  I flashed him a look, and Pa put up his hands.  “All right.  I admit.  I was concerned at first.  But, Joe.  I was wrong.  Charlotte is a wonderful woman.  You made the right choice.”

“Did I?”

“You don’t believe him?”  The certainty in his tone shook me.  Where was mine?

“I need to speak to Charlotte.”

Pa caught my arm.  “Don’t go up there angry.  Take a moment.”

I shook him off.  “I can handle my own affairs.”

The door opened under my thrust.  I stepped into the room and confronted my wife.  Could I even call her that?  She turned from the window.  Her face pale but controlled.

“Who is he?”

“I met him after my parents died.  He courted me.  It was a mistake.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“He was why I left St. Louis, and … I wanted to forget about him.”

“And the marriage license?”

Charlotte threw her hands out in a gesture of frustration.  “I don’t know where he got that.  We were engaged but never married.”

“Engaged?”  I clenched my fist tighter, trying to hold on to the control I felt slipping away.  “What else haven’t you told me?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you and he ever?”  I watched the last of the color drain from her face.  She was quivering.  Whether from fear or anger, I didn’t know.  I couldn’t see past my fury to tell.  “Did you?” 

“How can you ask me that?”

My fingers groped for the doorknob.  “I need some air.”

I left the room.  I didn’t look back.

Pa’s questions couldn’t stop me.  I didn’t care where I went.  Space and time were my only goals.  I kept walking.

Rocks, twigs, pinecones, who cares?  They stood no chance.  I kicked them out of my path.  What are you doing?  Go back, talk it out.  But the damned marriage license reared up in my mind’s eye, and questions I didn’t want hammered at my skull.  Why would this man make up a lie like that?  Forge a document?  Why come all this way if it wasn’t true?  What did he have to gain?  Why didn’t Charlotte tell me about him?

My chest heaved.  I wanted to tear it open and rip my heart from my body.  Then I found myself at the one place I could find peace.

Pa found me slumped on a stump, fingers laced between my knees.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Wasn’t hard.  I come here, too, when I need time to think.”

Lowering himself next to me, we gazed at the stone before us.

“D’you think we’ll ever stop?”  At Pa’s look of inquiry, I continued, “Missing him?”

Pa’s hand came around my shoulders.  “No.”

I nodded.  I knew the answer already.  My brother was too big a part of me not to miss.

“What did she say?”

“They were engaged.”  I ducked my head and ground my teeth.  “Engaged, and I never knew.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!  No.  I don’t know.”

“What else did she say?”

“She wanted to explain, but ….” I petered off. 

“You didn’t give her the chance?  Don’t you think you should?”

“What if …?”  I couldn’t continue, put my fears into words.

“You love her, don’t you?”  I nodded.  “Then let her explain and deal with the rest when it comes.”  There was a reason why this man was the best pa in the whole world.  I straightened my shoulders.  “C’mon.  Let’s get back.”

***

Sitting at her dresser, her face buried in her hands, Charlotte sobbed.  When she heard me enter, her hands dashed across her face to hide the tears.  I hadn’t known what I was going to say, what I was going to ask.  But all that disappeared at the sadness I saw breaking within her eyes.  Nothing mattered except I’d done that to her.

Pulling her into my arms, I told her I was sorry.  She clung to me and cried anew.  Relief flowed in these tears.  I didn’t share it.  My fingers traced her face.  This was the beautiful woman I fell in love with.  But doubt rooted deep in my soul.  I forced those thoughts aside and had her sit back down.

“Tell me.”

Charlotte wiped her face, and I passed her my handkerchief.  She blew her nose, sniffed, and then clasped her hands in her lap.

“First, I need to tell you about my parents.  They adored me and each other.  I don’t think there were ever two people so devoted.  Pa was everything to my mother, and when he became ill, her world fell apart.  The illness was gradual.  To watch the man she worshipped slipping away bit by bit, day after day, month after month, was too much.  She fell into melancholy.  Nursing was too hard, too painful a task.  All she could do was sit with him.  So, I took on that role.”  I reached for her hands, but she shook mine away.  “I’m not complaining.  I was happy to do it.  I loved my parents.  I tell you this only, so you’ll understand.  Friends vanished, and between caring for them and running our store, I had no time for anything else.”

“I’m sorry.”

She ignored my words and wrapped her hands back together.  “After Pa passed away, I prayed that Mama would recover and become her old self again.  I was so relieved the morning after the funeral when she took a walk.  Oh, Joe.  If you could’ve seen her.  How fine she looked with her hair the way Pa liked it.  When she kissed me, I could smell his favorite perfume.  The police officer came later and told me there’d been an accident.  She’d fallen and drowned in the river.”

“Charlotte—”

“It’s all right.  She’s with Pa and happy.”

“I wish you’d told me.”

“Why?  So you could feel sorry for me?  I wasn’t looking for pity.” 

Put in my place, I apologized.  “Is that when you met Moody?”

Charlotte nodded and began to pleat my handkerchief.  “He was a salesman and came to the store.  He was kind and interested in me. After a few weeks, we went to lunch.  It was nice.  I saw no reason not to accept his invitation to dinner.  Then, in the middle of the meal, he asked me to marry him. 

“I was stunned.  It was ridiculous to talk of marriage already.  I thought he’d understand.  Instead, he pressed me further.  Every day, he would come to the shop.  Sometimes more than once a day.  After two weeks, I’d had enough.  I asked him to stop visiting.  That should have been the end of it, but ….”  Charlotte sat forward.  “Have you ever been hounded day and night?  Given no peace?”

A chill echoed down my spine.  “Is that what he did?”

“Yes.  Everywhere I went, he was there.  He wrote me notes.  Sent me gifts.  Then I returned from the market one day to find a rose on my bed.”

When I saw her hands tremble, I took them in mine.  This time she didn’t shake me off.  “Did you report him?”

“Oh, yes.  It was horrible.  The way those men stared at me.  They couldn’t understand my problem.  A woman unhappy because a man wished to marry her and showed it by sending her gifts?  They thought I should accept.”

“And that’s why you came here?”

“No.  Not at first.  I sold what I could, gave up the shop, and moved to an apartment in another part of St. Louis, away from my old neighborhood.  I got a job and carried on.  For three months, I thought I was free of him.”  She broke off.  Her bottom lip quivered.

“He found you?”

Charlotte nodded and brushed away a fresh tear.  “It was as if I’d never left.  He was mad at me for worrying him, but he forgave me.  Then he asked me to marry him again.  I’d never felt so trapped.”

“I wish I’d been there.  What did you do?”

“I saw no choice but to get away.  He couldn’t know what I was planning.  That’s when I accepted his proposal.  It was a ruse, Joe, nothing more.  If we were engaged, I thought he’d relax and not be such a guard dog.  It worked.  I packed a bag, took every penny I had, and bought a ticket on the train west.”

It all made sense, and I had no reason to doubt her story, but something niggled at me.  “What about the license?”

“I can’t explain it.”

My anger had given way to doubt.  Did I believe that?  I had another question.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She dropped her gaze and bit her lip.  “It was too recent.  Too hard to share.”

“I understand that about your parents.  But Moody?”

“I should have.  I know.  But I didn’t want to even think about Henry.  I was just glad to be rid of him.”

Was I convinced?  I couldn’t answer that right now, but I did know one thing.  “Yes.  We both want that.”

I made for the door.  Charlotte’s voice hitched when she asked, “Where’re you going?”

“To see him.”

“Don’t!”

“Why not?”

“He … he could be dangerous.”

“He threatened you?”

“No.  Never. But ….”

I looked at my wife’s desperate face and wondered why she didn’t want me to speak to this man.  “I can handle him.”

Candy was back, and Pa broke off talking to him when I came down and strapped on my gun belt.  “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to town.”

“To see Moody?”

“That’s right.”  Pa gave Candy a look and hitched his head toward me.  “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“He’s not going for you.”

I crammed on my hat and slammed out the door. 

***

Chapter Eleven

I was three miles down the road to Virginia City before Cooch got pulled to a halt, and I let Candy catch up.  When I set Cooch into a walk again, I shot a look at my foreman.  He grinned back.  I readjusted my hat.

“What’s the plan?”

“Find Moody.”

“And then?”

My hand tightened around my bridle.  What was the plan?  My gut reaction was to bury the guy.  The next was to run him out.  Except he had that marriage license tucked in his pocket. 

“We go see a lawyer.”

***

Moody looked up from his plate of chicken.  He wiped his mouth with his napkin before he spoke, “Well, this is a delight.  Is Charlotte with you?”

My knuckles rested on the table as I leaned toward him.  Better looking than I would’ve liked, he had a smarmy charm the ladies went for.  I itched to bury my fist so deep into his face I wouldn’t find it for a month.

“Moody.  You’re coming to see my lawyer.  He’s going to take a look at that marriage license.”

“Why should I do that?”

I straightened.  My hand rested on my gun.  “Let’s go.”

Moody’s gaze traveled from me to Candy, who smiled down at the man in a way that wasn’t friendly.  “Seems I have no choice.”

***

The door of Hiram’s office closed.  I watched Moody saunter down the steps and across the street before I turned to look at our family lawyer.

“It looks real enough.”

My shoulders slumped.  I was foolish to hope it would prove an obvious forgery.  “What can I do?”

“I could wire the County Clerk where the license was issued.  Have them confirm the marriage registration.”  I ducked my head.  How would that look to Charlotte?  Seeing my reluctance, Hiram added, “If he takes it to a judge, we’d have to prove it a forgery anyway.”

“Yeah.  I know, but….”  Indecision baited me. 

Hiram dropped his gaze and shuffled a bunch of papers on his desk.  After a moment, he cleared his throat and asked, “What does he want, Joe?  If the license is fake.  What does he hope to gain?”

“I don’t know.  It’s time I found out.”

I marched across to the International.  Moody wasn’t in the dining room, and asking for his room number, I headed up the stairs.  By now, Candy had joined me.  There was no point telling him to butt out.  Orders from Pa or not, he wouldn’t let me do this alone.

My fist thumped the door.  After a minute, Moody answered.  Giving him no chance to close it, we barged inside.

“All right, Moody.  What d’you want?  Money?”

“I told you.  I want my wife.”

“She’s not your wife.”

He hauled out the paper and waved it under my nose.  “This says different!”

I snatched the license, crushed it into a ball, and flung it back in his face.  “It’s a worthless forgery.” 

“Saying that doesn’t change the truth.”

“You’re leaving!”  Grabbing his bag from the corner of the room, I flung it on the bed, yanked open a drawer of the dresser, and began to toss in his clothes.

“Throw me out.  I’ll come back.  Charlotte belongs to me.  She’s my wife in every sense of the word.  D’you understand?  Wherever you’ve been, I’ve been there first.”  

I heard Candy’s shouting but not the words, as his hands clamped over my arms, dragging me back. 

Mouth hanging open, Moody massaged his neck under his mangled collar and necktie.  Wide eyes stared back into mine.  “You tried to strangle me!”

“I’ll do more’n that!”

Straightening up, he glared into my eyes.  “I’m being good to you, Cartwright.  Giving you a chance.  If you don’t send Charlotte back, I’ll go to a judge.  She’ll be exposed as a bigamist and you, a fool!”

My boots scraped the wood as Candy dragged me through the door.  Pulled down the corridor, I flung back, “You come anywhere near my wife, I’ll kill you!”

***

Chapter Twelve

Stepping out of the bank, Pa smiled at me.  “Well, how about some lunch?”

I expected it, but still balked at the suggestion.  

Charlotte and Pa had been waiting when Candy and I returned from our confrontation with Moody.

I saw the look Pa exchanged with Candy before he asked, “Is he gone?”

“Not yet.  But he’s got nothing to stay for.”  Charlotte pursed her lips and looked away.  The muscle in my jaw twitched.  “Has he?”

Blue eyes flashed up at me.  “No.  But I told you.  Henry doesn’t take no for an answer.”

I didn’t know what to think, and three days later, Moody was still in town.  Being in Virginia City with him prowling around was the last thing I wanted to do.  Plus, things needed my attention back at the ranch.  But I couldn’t say no to Pa.  We headed for our usual place, Delmonico’s, and ordered Hoss’s favorite meal.  It had become a tradition, a kind of silent remembrance.

Halfway through our first cup of coffee, Pa stiffened.  My jaw clenched when I saw what’d caught his attention.  Moody strolled to a table.  When he raised a hand in salute, I turned away.

Sick to my stomach, my appetite dried to a crisp.  I pulled out my wallet.  “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You’re not going to let him run you out?”  My wallet slapped back into my inside pocket, and I took a gulp of coffee.  The bitterness of the brew bit the back of my throat, but Pa’s next comment almost made me choke.  “Let’s ask him to join us.”

“What?”

“You wanna know what he’s up to, don’t you?”

“The only thing I wanna know is he’s leaving.”

“Maybe we’ll find that out.”

“Pa—”  Too late. He was out of his seat and gone.  My hand balled around my napkin.  I heaved in breaths to steady the racing of my heart that had gone into overdrive.  What the heck was Pa thinking?  I wanted to beat the guy black and blue, not sit down to eat with him.

Moody’s slim frame lowered into the chair opposite.  “Well, isn’t this civilized?  Thank you, Cartwright.”

“Wasn’t my idea.”

Pa cleared his throat and threw me a look that told me to behave.  I curled my lip and took another slug of my coffee.

“You’ve traveled a long way, Mr. Moody,” Pa began.

“Nowhere is too far when it comes to Charlotte.  She means the world to me.”

“Is that why she ran away?”

“Joseph.”

“It’s all right.  It’s a fair question.  As I told you, we had some disagreements.  I admit.  I’m a jealous man, and I behaved badly.  I realize now.  I was at fault.”

“And when do you claim you were married?”

I gaped at Pa.  I know he was fishing for information, but to sit there and hear Moody talk was more than I could bear.  His hand closed around my wrist.

“Not claim, Mr. Cartwright.  We were married.  Eighteen months ago.”

The fingers around my wrist tightened as Pa brushed over the reply.  “And you’ve looked for her how long?”

“Almost a year.”

“Don’t you have a job to get back to?”

Moody’s smirk had me wishing we weren’t in a crowded restaurant.  “I tendered my notice before I came to Nevada.  It was a small sacrifice to find my beloved.  Besides, a good salesman can get a job anywhere, and I’m a very good salesman.”

The plates of food arrived.  I couldn’t throw mine in his face, but neither could I eat. 

“Sorry, Pa.”

“Leaving?  Come now, Cartwright.  Can’t we discuss Charlotte’s return?”

“I’m not discussing anything with you, and especially not my wife.”

I strode away and didn’t look back.  If Pa wanted to make small talk with that weasel, let him.  I had better things to do, like taking care of business. 

Back at the ranch, I headed for the corrals to check on the horses for roundup.  When Pa rode up, I left the crew to meet him. 

He was there to talk about Moody, but I didn’t wanna hear it.  I launched into a description of the horses.  My father crossed his arms and waited me out.  Running out of animals, I pushed back my hat, put my hands on my hips, and ducked my head.  “All right, what did he say?”

“Not much.  Other than he wants Charlotte back and showed me the license.”

“He’s a liar.”

“Of course, but ….”

My head came up, and I fixed narrowed eyes on my father, “What?”

“He believes she’s in love with him.”  Pa’s hand came up to forestall my comment.  “I’m saying he believes it, not that it’s true.”

“What are you saying?”

“He thinks he can fix whatever their problems are.  To him, they are still together.”

I couldn’t understand it.  Why would he think that unless ….  “Or they are married, and he has a right to think that way.”

Pa frowned.  “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?”

“Joseph.”

I turned away.  Lifting my face to the sky, I ran a hand down it.  “I’m sorry, Pa.  I don’t know what I’m saying.”

That familiar hand squeezed my shoulder.  “This is a shock.  But you’ll both get through it.”

I gave Pa the smile he wanted and hoped he was right.

***

“Well?”

I closed the record book of men we’d spent the day hiring for the roundup and nodded at Candy.  “We did okay.  Enough hands and a few to spare.”

Candy heaved a sigh.  “Great.  I wasn’t looking forward to another shorthanded roundup.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.  Last year had been tough thanks to a new vein of silver tapped in the Chollar mine and an influenza outbreak, but we were in good shape this year. 

“Beer?”

Candy liked my suggestion.  Settling into my seat, I took a long pull from my glass, cradled it against my chest, and tilted back my chair.  I breathed in the noise.  Virginia City was never quiet.  Miners coming on and off shift were a constant stream on the streets, and the never-ending pounding of the stamp mills filled the air.  But the beer was good.  I’d taken my third swallow when Moody sidled through the doors.  “What the hell?”

“Coincidence,” Candy told me.

“With all the saloons in town?”

Hell!  I couldn’t get a meal and now a beer without him appearing.  He was like a tick I couldn’t scrub off.  Every time I saw him, the same question returned.  Why?  What did he hope to gain if he and Charlotte weren’t married? 

When I jerked upright, Candy started, “You leaving?”

“Yeah.”

I walked out without giving Moody a look.  Candy followed.

“You could try ignoring him?”

“Could you?”  Candy lifted an eyebrow and, after a beat, pulled a face.  “That’s what I thought.”

***

Chapter Thirteen

With the chores piling up, this was the last thing I needed.  I dropped Cooch’s hoof back to the ground and twitched his rein over his head. 

“Guess we’re walking you home.”  While we strolled, I told Cooch not to worry ‘cause we’d get his stone bruise taken care of, “After all, I need you in good shape for roundup.”

Approaching the house from the back, I came around the wood store and froze.  A buggy stood in the yard.  Beside it, my wife chatted to Moody.  Cooch’s rein slipped from my fingers.  My feet kept me moving forward while my mind focused on their conversation.

“You have to leave.  Joe will be back any minute.”

“All right, I’ll go.  But, please remember, come back to me, and I’ll make everything right.”

Like a runaway train, I steamed into Moody and finally got the satisfaction of smashing my fist into his jaw.  Charlotte’s scream to stop snapped my head around.  What the hell?  Was she protecting him? 

Running out from the side door, Hop Sing threw himself between us.  Behind him, Moody scrambled to his feet.  “What you do?  Why you hit man from store?”

“He’s Moody.”

Hop Sing spun around.  Now Moody had two angry men on his case.  “You tell me you want speak Missy Cartwright about things you sell!”

“That’s right.  I work for Burke’s Mercantile.”  Moody hung on his buggy and wiped the blood from his lip, which curled into a sneer.  “Told you a good salesman could get a job anywhere.”

“Not for long!”

“Think about that.  You really want me telling Burke why you want me fired.”

“You stinking rat!”

Hop Sing’s palms rammed my chest.  “NO!  He bad man, but you get into much trouble.”

I didn’t care.  I wanted him gone.  Pa and Candy rode in as I grabbed Hop Sing to thrust him aside.  The look on Pa’s face when he saw Moody was everything I could’ve hoped.  But when he looked at me, the alarm that sprang into his eyes checked me in a way Hop Sing hadn’t. 

Pa was no fool, and he grasped the situation in seconds and did what he always did—took charge.   “Candy, escort Mr. Moody off the Ponderosa.”

“It’ll be a pleasure.”

The hand I wiped over my top lip shook.  Taking a moment to steady my breathing, I turned to Charlotte.  “Inside.”

I shut our bedroom door.  It was just the two of us, and I could ask my questions.

“You’re talking to him now?”

“Hop Sing said it was a salesman.  By the time I realized it was too late.”

“Too late to walk away?”

“No, but—”

“What?  You couldn’t pass up the chance to chat?”

“I thought … I thought I could make him understand.  Get him to leave me alone.”  Turning from me, Charlotte dropped into a chair and lowered her forehand onto her fingertips.  “I should’ve known it was a waste of time.”

“I reckon you should.”

Her head came up.  The hurt shining from her eyes twisted my cruelty back on me.  But I wouldn’t take it back.  When I looked at her, I was starting to see a stranger.  Was she even the same person I married?

***

Chapter Fourteen

I swallowed my coffee and set the cup down on its saucer.  It sounded like a thunderclap.  Next to me, Charlotte ate her breakfast without looking my way or speaking. 

Pa broke the silence.  “How’re the preparations going?”

Candy answered, “Right on schedule.”

The roundup would start tomorrow, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

Pa nodded.  “Good.  Charlotte, do you have any plans for today?”

“I thought I’d drive into Virginia Ci—”

I cut her off.  “I told you.  I don’t want you going to town while he’s there.”

“But.”

“I said, no.  If you need supplies, make a list and give it to Hop Sing.”

Getting up, I headed for the credenza, only to halt when Charlotte called out, “There are things Hop Sing can’t get.”

“He can give the list to Mrs. Jenkins.”

Her napkin slapped down, and she sprang up.  “I can’t stay on the ranch forever.”

“While he’s here, you will.”

“I’m not a prisoner, Joe.  I’m your wife.”

“That’s right.  And you’ll do as I say.”

The door slammed behind me.  I mounted Cochise and hauled him around when Pa came limping out.  Dust was all I left.

***

Knocking the dirt off my trousers, I entered the side door to the kitchen.  I unwrapped the bandana and stuck my arm under the pump.  My concentration had gone to Hell, and a stupid mistake resulted in a cut forearm. 

From the big room, I could hear the murmur of voices.  Grabbing a clean towel off the side, I strolled toward the sound.  When I turned the corner into the main room, my fingers tightened around the cloth, grinding it into the wound.  I took no notice.  My vision narrowed to the pretty picture before me, freezing me on the spot.

Charlotte sat at the end of the sofa next to Pa.  The light from the big window behind me shimmered across her hair.  Their heads leaned in close, absorbed in their conversation.  Beside them, the sap from the wood in the grate snapped and spat.  I saw Charlotte’s long fingers entwined together.  I watched Pa’s hand move over the creased soft leather on his chair to reach for one of hers and take it between his.  One large hand patted it in a caring gesture.  Through it all, they exchanged their quiet words.

“It’s just … I don’t think he believes me.”

“Of course he does.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I believe you.”

“Oh, Ben.  You don’t know how good that is to hear.”

“Come now.  Things can’t be that bad?”

“He’s so different.  We don’t talk like we used to.  Sometimes it feels like he can’t bear to look at me.  I know it’s my fault—”

“Nonsense.  What’s past is past.  Joe should know that.”

“I’m scared.  What if he’s never able to believe me?  What do I do?”

“Don’t think like that.  He loves you.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough.”

“He may be stubborn, but he’s no fool.”

I’d heard enough and strode into the room.  Charlotte saw me first.

“Joe.  You’re back.  What happened to your arm?”  Jumping up, she came to me, her face a dutiful picture of concern.  “It looks bad.”

“It’s nothing.  Having a nice chat?”

There was no mistaking my tone.  Charlotte dropped back and flushed.  “We were just talking.”

“I heard.  Maybe I want our business to stay our business.”

Distress shone from the eyes fixed on mine.  At the back of them, I saw fear.  Part of me was glad.

“Joseph!  There’s no need to talk to Charlotte like that.”

“I can talk to her any way I please.  She’s my wife.”

“And I’m your father.”

My glare met Pa’s.  Neither of us was backing down.  I had to get out of there.

“I need to take care of this arm.”

“Let me.”

“I can do it.”

***

Charlotte lay curled on the far side of the bed.  I lay on the other.  A position we were becoming familiar with. 

Supper was a nightmare, and I excused myself as soon as I could afterward.  Charlotte watched me go with a look of sadness on her face that should’ve made me ashamed.  Pa sure thought I should be.

I paced our room, asking the same questions.  What the Hell was wrong with me?  I believed Charlotte, didn’t I?  Moody was the liar here.  Yet things drifted back.  Hadn’t she encouraged Eliza Wilson to leave her husband?  Did she even feel the same as I did about marriage?  If someone had told me when I looked into those eyes and proposed that I’d ever doubt her feelings, I’d have laughed in their face.  But those doubts held me in a stranglehold, so here we lay a million miles apart.  Only tonight, it was more than I could stand.  The brandy decanter beckoned.

The liquor went down easy.  I commandeered Pa’s chair, lay my head back on the soft overstuffed leather, and let the sweet burn creep down my throat, through my chest, and into my stomach. 

Pa’s chair was the only comfortable one in the room.  I knew why he kept the sofa, but I intended to fill my house with chairs like this one—my house.  Snorting, I took another gulp of brandy.  I hadn’t been near the place since Moody’s arrival.  What the Hell use was it anyway?  I sat forward, my hands between my knees, twisting the crystal they held.  Why did I even expect to be happy? 

“Joe?”

I looked up.  Pa came the rest of the way down the stairs.  The last thing I wanted was for him to see me wallowing in self-pity.  Even in the shadows, I could see the concern on his face. 

“Sorry.  Didn’t mean to wake anyone.”

“You didn’t.”  He took the position I usually occupied on the low table before me.  “Son.  I wasn’t interfering earlier.  Charlotte’s scared.”

“Why didn’t she talk to me?”

Pa rubbed his palms together while he considered how to continue.  I wasn’t making it easy for him.  “She knows you’re angry.”

“What does she expect?  She lied to me.”

“Did she?”

“C’mon, Pa.  You always taught us leaving something out was as good as lying.”

Pa smiled at the memories of when I’d hedged the truth with abstention.  “Well, childish stuff.  I’m not sure this is the same.  Does her not telling you change how you feel?”

“I love her.  I know I do.  But, right now, that’s all I know.” I gazed into my glass.  “How did you do it?  With Ma?”

“Simple.  Our life together began when we met, and nothing else mattered.”

“Did you ever ask?”

He knew what I meant and looked me straight in the eye when he told me, “No.”  I could hear the disappointment when he asked, “You did?” 

“She says, no.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

I took another gulp from my glass and changed the subject.  “If they’re not married, why would he be here?”

“He’s obsessed with her.”

“Would that be enough to bring him clear across the country?”

“If Charlotte says so.  Yes.”  Our eyes met.  It really was that simple for him.  Why couldn’t it be the same for me?  Pa’s hand closed over my knee.  That touch always reassured.  “You’ll get there.  Just give it time.”

I smiled.  Pa could always read me like a book.  “Thanks.”  I looked down at the brandy.  “A bad idea with roundup tomorrow.  I’d better get some sleep.”  Setting down the glass, we rose together.  When we reached the stairs, I said, “Pa.  While I’m away, keep Charlotte out of Virginia City and a watch on the roads.  I don’t want Moody anywhere near her.”

I caught the sigh under his breath, but he replied, “All right.”

***

Chapter Fifteen

Roundup was a bitch.  I hadn’t known spring weather like it.  Sudden snowfalls took us by surprise, which the beeves churned into a quagmire.  The sun baking the ground hard again meant dust clouds clogged our eyes and choked our lungs.  Our throats turned raw from the grit we swallowed, and the cold at night pushed the beeves further into the trees and scrub, making our task harder. 

I usually enjoyed this time, the camaraderie between the men, and building that working trust.  It wasn’t a family affair anymore.  Pa did his last roundup four years ago, and then came the biggest loss of all.  When I gazed across the meadow, memories flooded back.  That big hat recognizable from miles away, the belly laugh that lifted any bad mood.  I could hear that familiar voice, “You gonna sit there wool-gathering or get that little hiney in gear and do some work.”  I smiled.  This year, I missed that big moose more than ever.

***

Waving my rope at Candy, I bellowed, “Some steers in the gully.  I’ll get ‘em.”

With a curse, I worked the last stubborn brute out and headed back up to the herd.  My hand tightened on Cooch’s rein, jerking him to a halt.  It was him.  He stood out a mile with his city hat and jacket, even from this distance. 

Candy drew alongside.  His keen gaze followed mine to fix on the lone figure on the rise.  “Is that Moody?”

“Looks like.”

“What’s he doing out here?”

I could think of only one reason—checking to see if the coast was clear to visit Charlotte.  I fought the impulse to charge home.  The snow might’ve stopped, but we’d fallen behind.  We had a deadline.  The drover was booked, and branding still needed to be done.  Getting the cattle to market late would cut thousands of our profit margin.  Leaving wasn’t an option.  I could do nothing except rely on Pa.  The knot in my stomach wound tighter as I watched the figure turn his horse and drift away.  Of course, the person I should’ve been placing my faith in was Charlotte.  Why wasn’t I?  One more question gnawing at my brain.

***

I pushed hard and set a punishing pace.  Up before dawn and in the saddle until dusk, then night watch duty.  But I wasn’t asking anyone to do more than me.

Pulling Cochise to a skittering halt, I glared at the men squatting around the fire and coffee pot.

“What’s going on?  You’ve got work to do.”

Candy stepped out from a scrub of cottonwood where the horses were tied.  “They’re taking a break.  I said it was okay.”

Cooch danced under me.  “You know we’re behind, right?  We haven’t got time for breaks.  Get mounted!”

No one moved.  I caught the looks they gave Candy and the slight jerk of his head that galvanized them.  Undrunk coffee put out the fire, and they headed out.

“Joe.  A word.”  Sparing time for a chat was another delay, but ready to have this out; I swung out of the saddle.  Candy waited for me to walk to him before he began.  “Everyone’s been working flat out.  They’re tired.  If they don’t get a break, they’re gonna start making mistakes.”

“I pay them to work, not sit on their butts.  If they can’t hack it, they can collect their pay.”

“Someone’s gonna get hurt if you keep pushing them.”

“I’m the boss, and they do as I say.”

“You may be the boss, but I’m the foreman.  It’s my responsibility to get the job done and get every man back in one piece.  A few hours’ rest won’t make much difference, and they’ll work better after.”

“I say they keep working.”

This conversation was over.  I turned my back on Candy, heading back to Cooch.

“Why?  C’mon, Joe, this isn’t like you.  We all know what’s put this burr under your saddle, and it isn’t the roundup.”

I spun around.  “What?”

“You can’t work out your frustration about Moody on the men.”

Candy braced himself.  What the hell?  Did he think I was going to hit him?  Looking down, I unclenched my fist.  Had I meant to?  I looked around at the men huddled on their horses.  Each face grey despite being burnt brown by the sun.  Dark lines of fatigue marked them like rivers on the plains.  What was I doing?  My chest deflated.  I dropped to the ground, draping my arms over my knees.

Yanking off his hat, Candy wiped his brow before squatting next to me.  “He’s really gotten to you.”

“Charlotte says he’s lying, but that damned marriage license looks real enough.”

Candy’s hat turned between his fingers.  “There’s one way to know for sure.”

Our eyes met.  I shook my head.  “Shouldn’t her word be enough?  If I have Hiram check the license …?” My hand ran down my face.  “A man should trust his wife, right?”

“You’re only human.”

I was, and it would settle things once and for all.  But wouldn’t doing so prove my lack of faith in Charlotte?  My stomach chilled.  Could we recover from that?  I had to find a way to believe.  Trouble was, the how eluded me.  Taking off my hat, I ruffled my hair before clapping it back on. 

“C’mon.  We’ll break for the day and pick up again tomorrow.”

***

Chapter Sixteen

We rode in tired but triumphant.  I dismounted to find Pa’s hand ready and waiting to clasp mine.

“Good to have you back.”

Over his shoulder, Charlotte hovered in the background, hesitation and uncertainty in her eyes.  I gave Pa a pat on the shoulder and walked to my wife.

Three weeks on the range, I looked a mess and smelled worse, but the same admiration filled her eyes when she gazed at me.  I didn’t care who was watching.  My arms caught her up and crushed her against me.  “I missed you.”

It felt good to feel her return my embrace.

Bathed and changed, I flopped on the sofa and received a cup of coffee from Charlotte.

“Two thousand head of the best beeves we’ve ever sent heading for market.”

“You’ve done a good job.  I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t have done it alone.”  I turned from Pa to Candy and conveyed my thanks with a smile.

“They’ll be a nice bonus for everyone once the sale has gone through,” Pa added.

“The men will appreciate that, Ben.  They worked hard,” Candy told him.

“Don’t remind me,” I said.  “I’m gonna be working out the knots in my back for weeks.  How has everything been here?”

“Fine,” Pa replied. 

Pleased to hear Moody had given no trouble, I relaxed.  I didn’t mention seeing him.  What would be the point?  The evening passed without talk of that thorn in our sides.  Alone in our bed, I turned down the lamp and leaned across to kiss Charlotte goodnight.  The scent of warm skin and lavender filled my senses.  Her silken, yielding lips set mine tingling.  Deepening my kiss, I reached for her. 

She welcomed my attention, and I could feel her relief.  Doubts clung to me like cobwebs, and hesitation quivered through my body.  I wasn’t being fair.  But her need pulled at mine.  Giving in to the yearning, I dove into the glory of being with this woman.  It was like being with her for the first time.  Every touch repaired the closeness that had been broken, and when I looked into those eyes, glistening in the dark, my soul knew only the certainty of our love.

Sunlight played on my shoulder.  I drifted out of sleep, despite the comfy mattress lulling me back.  My arm draped over my wife, tucked close against me.  Her warmth mingled with mine.  My cheek caressed her hair, and I breathed in her presence.  I opened my eyes, and my breath hitched at the sight of her.  The same bliss I felt every morning waking up next to this woman assaulted me.  Goddammit!  Moody wouldn’t come between us.   

When she stirred and turned, I smiled.  “Morning.”

Her smile lit my insides.  She sighed and placed a palm on my cheek.  “I’m so glad you’re back.”

I took her hand and kissed her fingertips.  “I am.  Really.”

Drawing her close, we lay there, content to hold and be held until I could no longer resist the smell of bacon.

“C’mon.  Let’s eat.”

Determined to show his pleasure in having us back and that he was the best cook on the Ponderosa, we sat down to a feast.  I grinned over the table at Candy, whose fork hovered with indecision over the multitude of dishes.

“Good to be home.”  I winked across.

Charlotte poured me a cup of coffee.  “It’s good to have you back.”

Our eyes met, and I reached for her hand to give it a squeeze.  I looked around into Pa’s face.  It acknowledged his happiness.  Behind him, Hop Sing, carrying another plate of pancakes, had the same look.  I rolled my eyes at my two mother hens.

Candy rose to answer the knock at the door.  Expecting some problem that needed my attention, I shoveled in a mouthful of eggs while I had the chance.  The door closed after a short, murmured conversation, and Candy returned to the table.  My fork paused at the look on his face.

“It’s a delivery.  Someone paid to have this brought all the way out for Charlotte.”

Candy held forward a small brown package.  The fingers that took it quivered.  Cold suspicion crawled up my spine.  “What is it?”

Charlotte laid the parcel down and looked at Pa, who explained, “Henry’s been sending gifts.  Silly stuff.  Ribbons, sugar drops.  We returned them, and there hadn’t been anything for a few days.  We thought they’d stopped.”

I didn’t look at Pa.  My gaze riveted on Charlotte.  “You didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to.”

“When?  Today, tomorrow, next week?” 

“Joseph.”

“Stay out of this.”  I didn’t want interference.  This was between my wife and me.  I pointed to the parcel.  “You gonna open that?”

“No.  I’ll return it.”

“I’ve a better idea.”  Snatching the gift, I strode to the fireplace, hurled it into the crate, and reached for a match.  I watched until the fire had caught and then left the house. 

Pa found me in the barn saddling Cochise.

“It was my fault.”

“Pa— ”

“I decided since the gifts had stopped, there was no need to say anything right away.  Give you your first night back without thinking about Moody. So if you’re angry at anyone, it should be me.”

“I’d like to take those gifts and ram them down his throat.”

Cochise side-stepped in protest at the tightness of the cinch.  I took a breath and loosened it a couple of notches.  Pa leaned against the stall post next to me.

“Ever since you were a boy, I’ve worried about that temper.”

“I’m not a kid anymore.”

“No.  No.  You’re not.  You’ve been a grown man for a lot of years.  But it’s still there.”

I cut Pa a look.  “Guess you and everyone are stuck with it.”

Pa crossed his arms and pulled a face.  “Well, I can’t imagine you any other way.” 

The tension broken, I smiled.  “Sorry.  But, I’m only human.”

“I know that, son.  Remember, she is, too.”  After a beat, he added, “I’ll finish here.  Go talk to her.”

I handed him the bridle.  “Thanks.”

***

Over the next few days, there was plenty to keep me occupied.  Now that Pa was back in the saddle, we rode the ranch together, overseeing the work and making new plans.  I was proud of the Ponderosa and the work I’d put in, but I was prouder to ride by my father’s side and hear his praise.  It was great to see him sitting straight like a young man, his eyes drinking in the ranch he’d built and its beauty.  He’d always taught us never to take the land for granted.  We never did. 

I put Moody out of my mind.  He wasn’t part of this life.  But we were still avoiding Virginia City, so I headed to Carson with Candy and Charlotte for the next supply run.

After helping Charlotte down, we went inside the mercantile.  I maneuvered around the throng to hand my list to Mr. Carter.

“Take me a while to gather,” he told me.

“No hurry.”

I leaned an elbow against the polished counter.  The smell of leather, oats, and camphene oil mixed with the scent of people.  Perfume, tobacco, lye soap, sweat, all life came through here.  On the other side of the store, Charlotte had joined Mrs. Carter and a group of women discussing some latest do-dad from the East.

My glance back through the door timed with the mill outside clearing.  A lone figure on the opposite boardwalk stared at the store.  I straightened.  People blocked the view again.  My heart pounded as I pushed back to the door.  Moving a large man to one side, I stepped out and looked across the street.  He’d gone.

My gaze raked the street.  Wagons and horses passed, the jangle of their harnesses filling the air.  On the boardwalk opposite, two women carrying babies chatted.  Others scurried along, loaded with baskets or packages.  A couple strolled by, the lady’s arm linked with his.  Around them, men ambled, strode, or stood looking in store windows.  None were Moody.  Had I imagined it?  Was I seeing the man even when he wasn’t there?

“Something wrong?”  I glanced over my shoulder at Candy.  I felt like a fool.  Seeing things and jumping at shadows.  “No.”  We went back inside.

Patting the last bag of flour, I caught the end of the rope Candy tossed across to me before asking Charlotte, “How about we eat before we leave?”

“That would be lovely.  Where?”

Cinching down the rope, I replied, “Annabel’s is always—”  Looking up, I broke off.  Leaning against a post, Moody gazed back at me.  Then.  He tipped his hat.  The rough edge of the rope sawed my fingers when I gave it a final, vicious tug.  I moved to go around the buckboard.  Charlotte’s hands closed around my wrist.

“Let’s go, Joe.”

My chest tightened when my breathing quickened.  “I told him to stay away.”

“Please, don’t do anything.”

Candy stood in front, blocking my path.  “He’s trying to provoke you.”

My top lip drew back.  “He’s succeeded.”

He caught my arm when I stepped forward.  “Think!  A brawl?  Here in the street?  Is that what you want?”

It was!  Charlotte’s fingers anchored deeper, but I could feel the trembling running through her.  I wrenched my gaze from Moody to my wife’s pale one.  She looked sick.  Which one of us was she concerned for?  I pushed the ugly thought away.  

“Let’s go.”

Charlotte gasped in relief.  I helped her into the buckboard.  Taking no chances on me, Candy stayed by my side until I climbed into the seat.  I didn’t wait for him to mount but shook up the horses and got the wagon going.  But I couldn’t stop glancing over my shoulder.  Moody broke into a smile.  It took everything I had to stay in the seat and keep going.

The gifts began again. 

“Why does he keep sending them?” 

Charlotte lifted her head from her hand.  Shadows were visible under her eyes, betraying her lack of sleep.  Neither of us found peace or rest in our bed.

“I told you.  I don’t know.”

Each time I asked the question, I got the same answer.  It didn’t satisfy me.  None of the answers Charlotte gave me quenched the suspicion that burned my gut.  I buried myself in work.

***

Chapter Seventeen

Cooch tossed his head in protest when I reined him in.  Pulled over on the road below us was a buggy. 

“Son of a—”

I gathered my reins to turn when Candy said, “Hold on.  He’s not on Ponderosa land.”

“So what?”

“So, he’s got every right to be there.”  My right hand tightened the glove over my left as it flexed within it.  Catching the move, Candy warned, “Joe, leave it.”

I ground my teeth.  Moody wasn’t on our land, which left me powerless to move him.  But what I’d like to have done twisted my insides.  Another thought tightened them further.  I turned Cochise for home. 

All the way there, I told myself I was wrong.  Charlotte would be sitting by the fireplace, mending a shirt or something.  Dismounting, I crossed the distance to the door in a rush.

Seeing me, Pa called, “Ah, good.  Do you remember where we put the lease for—”

“Where’s Charlotte?”

“Out for a ride.”

“A ride?  Where?”

Concern dropped across my father’s features.  “What’s wrong?”

“I saw Moody on the Virginia City road.  Pulled over like he was waiting for something or someone.”

“You can’t think she’s meeting him?”

Pa’s tone drew me up short.  “No.  Of course not.”  I watched his face, checking if he believed the lie before adding, “What did you need?”

The document I was reading dropped back onto the desk the moment Charlotte arrived back.  The look of surprise, or was it shock, on her face when she saw me didn’t pass me by.  Neither did the flush that covered her cheeks when I said, “You’ve been gone a long time.”

“Yes.  I went further than I realized.”

“See anyone?”

The flush deepened.  “No.  Gracious!  Look at the time.  I’d better tidy up.”

What was going on?  I thought the lying had ended, but it looked like I was wrong.  When I got up to follow, Pa’s hand found my arm.

“It mightn’t be what you think.”

“You think it’s a coincidence?”

“Just don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Right.”

Charlotte stopped braiding her hair, and she turned when I walked in.  The smile she gave me wavered at the grim expression I saw reflected in her mirror.

“Where’d you go?”

“For a ride.”

“I want the truth.  Did you meet Moody?”

Unable to meet my eyes, her gaze dropped to her lap, where her fingers played with the hairpin she picked up.  “All right.  I didn’t just go for a ride.  I rode to Virginia City to talk to him.  Try to get him to leave.  But when I got there, I realized it would be a waste of time.  I turned around and came home.”

“You didn’t see him?”

“No.”

Did I believe her?  The story was plausible, but was it a little too convenient? 

“I saw him on the road.  You didn’t run into him when you returned?”

“I cut across country.”  My lips tightened.  “Joe.  I swear. Please….”

“Finish what you’re doing.”

I closed the door and leaned into it.  Sobs bled through the wood, pulling at me, begging me to return.  I lowered my head and squeezed my eyes shut against the turmoil.  One thing I knew for sure.  Moody had to go.

Seeing me strapping on my gun belt pulled Pa out of his chair.  “Where’re you going?”

“I’ve something to do.”

“Lunch is ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Grabbing a spare horse, I saddled up. 

***

Chapter Eighteen

I’d say this much for Moody.  He was no coward.  When he opened his door, he smiled, let me in, and offered me a drink.  When I refused, he poured one for himself.  His hand was rock steady. 

Going to a chair, he sat and crossed one leg over the other.  “What can I do for you?”

“Why are you still hanging around?  We both know that license is fake—”

“You really believe that, don’t you?  What story did she tell you?  That I chased her all over St. Louis?  Hounded and forced her to run away?”

My fingers tightened around my gun belt.  “I want you gone.  How much will it take?”

“I told you.  I don’t want money.  I want my wife.  And she wants me.  Why else would she meet with me today?”

“You’re a damn liar.”

“Am I?  Charlotte knows I’m willing to change.  It’s only a matter of time until she returns to me.”

My hand moved to my gun.  “One way or another, Moody, you’re leaving.”

“I know you, Cartwright.  You’re a decent man.  You’d never resort to that.”  Moody set down his glass and rose.  “I feel sorry for you.  You’re the real loser in this.”

I loathed every part of him, from his perfectly brushed hair to his polished boots.  But the hell of it was, I wasn’t sure that I didn’t believe him.

His words rang in my ears as I left.  “You tell her.  I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

***

All the way home, the same thoughts churned around my mind.  Charlotte hadn’t trusted me with the truth.  What else had she kept from me?  Meeting Moody?  Was she considering going back to him?  I thought I knew everything about her.  But did the woman I fell in love with even exist?

Lamplight glowing from the windows gave the house a warmth I wasn’t feeling.  The smell of fried chicken drifted on the breeze.  I should’ve been starving, but food was the last thing on my mind.  After handing the horse off to a hand to bed down, I went in.  The big room was empty except for Pa. 

“Where’s Charlotte?”

“Upstairs.”  Pa waited until I came to the fire before asking, “What happened?”

Laying one hand on the mantel, I kicked the hearth.  “He says Charlotte will go back to him.”

“He’s deluded!  You called his bluff.”  Pa’s expression changed.  I’d given myself away.  “Joe.” 

In Pa’s hands, my name could reflect many feelings.  Pride, joy, anger, and bitter disappointment.  Like now.

“I’ll go wash up.”

There was no need to look.  Pa’s gaze burned into me with every step up the stairs.

I kept my head down and made for the washstand when I entered our room.  The brush Charlotte held halted in its movement through her hair.  Large eyes reflected in the mirror watched me.

“Is he gone?”

“Tell me the truth.  Did you meet with him today?”

“I’ve already told you the truth.”

“He knew you went to Virginia City.  How could he know that?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe he saw me.  Maybe someone told him.  But I didn’t see him.”

If we felt distant before, the gulf opened wider.  “Forget it,” was all I could say.

Turning away, I stripped off to wash.  With studied care, Charlotte laid her brush down and rearranged the items on the dresser.  My skin prickled as the cold water hit it.  I scrubbed harder than necessary.  Behind me, she stood and smoothed the creases from her dress.

“I’ll go down now.”

I didn’t look up from drying my face. “Fine,” I mumbled through the scratchy cotton.

The door closed without a sound.  My towel hit the wood and dropped to the floor.  I clenched the washstand.  The muscles in my arms and chest stood out rigid under the grip.  What the hell was I gonna do? 

Things didn’t improve at the supper table.  Pa’s disappointment left him with nothing to say to me, but he talked to Charlotte like a good Cartwright protecting the lady.

I sawed through my beef while Pa asked her about the needlepoint she was working on.  Mouthfuls of potatoes crammed into my mouth during their discussion on the jam she hoped to make.  When Candy asked what other preserves she was planning, I tossed down my napkin and stood.

“Excuse me.”

***

My thoughts darkened along with the sky.  I let them, neglecting to turn up the lamp or close the curtains.  There was no romance to the moonlight that slanted across the room and my face.  According to Moody, I was a fool who’d married a woman who had lied to my face and was still lying.  How could I have fallen in love with someone like that?  How could I love her still?

When the door opened, Charlotte halted, allowing her eyes time to adjust.  She strode to the lamp.  My eyes creased at the sudden blaze of light.  The curtain rings rattled under the sharp movements when she drew them shut.  Then she turned to face me.

“What happened today?  What did he say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me the truth.”

“Why should I?”

I watched my cruelty take effect, but Charlotte rallied.  “I’ve never lied to you.  I didn’t tell you about Henry, and I’m sorry.  How long are you going to punish me?”

“I’m not punishing you.”

“Aren’t you?”  I winced.  “You can’t keep treating me like this.  Talk to me.”

I wasn’t ready to talk.  “I need a drink.”

She didn’t try to stop me.  I sat alone downstairs.  No one joined me.  My father had picked his side, and it wasn’t mine.

What was it that dug into my guts and wouldn’t let go?  Hoss always said I was a stubborn cuss.  ‘You give everyone a chance, but Lord help them if they lose that trust.’

Could it be that?  Had my trust been lost beyond all retrieving?  I wish I knew the answer. 

***

Chapter Nineteen

I dressed in silence again.  The air held a chill that had nothing to do with the morning.  When I pulled on my boots, Charlotte cleared her throat.

“I need to speak to you.”

“Can’t it wait?  I need to see the men before breakfast.”

She bit her lip.  Her head ducked, and I strained to catch her quiet words.  “Yes, of course.”

Guilt made me soften my voice when I added, “Later, all right?”

I didn’t wait for a reply and made my way outside.  The business of the ranch kept me engrossed and my mind off how everything was going to pieces between us.  Work was the one sure thing in my life.  I gave it everything and kept at it, avoiding the talk I’d promised.  But I had to quit sometime.

My God, she looked lovely.  Sitting in the chair, already dressed for dinner, Charlotte wore her hair down the way I liked.  The shining waves showed off her white shoulders, and the blue dress highlighted the color of her eyes. 

“Can we talk now?”

“Sure.”

“I love you, Joe.  With all my heart and always will.  But I can’t live like this.  If you can’t forgive me, I think it best I leave.”

“You’re going back to him!”

“No!”  Her hands slapped the arms of the chair.  “Oh, Joe.  Don’t you understand?  This has nothing to do with Henry.”

“Hasn’t it?  Why else would you leave?”

“Because I can’t bear watching your love turn to hate.”

“So, you’re running away?  Is that what you do?  Get men to love you, then leave them?”

Her eyes blazed with fury, and she sprang upright.  “No!  I love you, Joe.  You!  But if you can’t trust me, how can I stay?”

“Because we’re married.  For better or worse.  Remember?” 

“And I’m the worst.  Is that it?” 

Shame slapped me in the face.  I dropped my gaze. 

Charlotte moved to the other side of the room.  Pacing in a circle, her hands kneaded together.  “I can’t believe this is happening.  How could I have been so stupid?  I can’t.  I won’t go through this again.”

Her distress deepened my guilt.  “I didn’t mean— ”

“Stay away!  You’re no different than him.”  Tears coursed down her face.  Sweat stood out on her brow.  She pressed a hand to her chest and doubled over.  “Oh, God,” she gasped.

Alarm filled me as her skin whitened.  “Charlotte!”

I caught her as she folded.

***

Chapter Twenty

I didn’t need to see Pa’s face.  The stiff line of his shoulders and back told me how he felt.  The doctor was still with Charlotte upstairs, and I couldn’t do anything but wait. 

When she collapsed in my arms, the same sense of dread that punched me in the stomach that terrible day I saw Alice and my home ablaze returned.  My hand still shook when I reached for the coffee cup.  I took a gulp, trying to dispel the dryness that cleaved my tongue to the roof of my mouth.  The door above opened and closed.  Out of my chair, I waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Doc Martin gave me a bracing smile.  “She’s fine.  Strong and healthy.”

“What happened?”

“She suffered a hysteria attack.”  He fixed me with a look.  “Can I ask?  Has she been under stress lately?”

Was he joking?  The weeks of Moody badgering us, watching us, and sending gifts would be enough to give anyone hysterics.  Then I saw Pa’s face.  It wasn’t Moody he blamed.  He was looking at me.

A bullet to the spine couldn’t have knocked me off my feet any quicker than the truth that struck.  Charlotte had given me everything—her heart, body, soul, and much more.  I’d received a new life.  Because of her, I had a future, a reason to breathe and get up each morning.  How could I have repaid her with doubts?  I should’ve shielded and protected her.  Given her every reason to feel safe and secure.  Instead, I’d treated her like a liar and a fraud. 

“Are you all right?” Paul asked when I dropped into the chair.

“What?  Yeah.  Will she be okay?”

“I think so.  For cases such as these, I recommend some time away.  A change of scene.  That usually does the trick.”

I managed to thank him, but it was Pa who offered him coffee and saw him out.  All I could do was sit there.  The pain of realization coursing through me was worse than any physical wound.  I couldn’t meet Pa’s eyes, but the stubbornness in me didn’t want to hear his reproaches either.  “You don’t have to say it.”

My words lit a match under my father.  He let rip.  “Good.  It’s about time you realized what you’ve put her through.  Did you once consider her feelings?  She came here to escape that man and find a new life.  She believed she found it with you.  When he turned up to hound her again, did you even think what that was doing to her?” 

Pa snapped his mouth shut.  He’d said more than he meant to.  Interference wasn’t his way, but I’d pushed him too far.  But then, I saw past the anger to the sadness that hung on him.  He’d lost so many loves in his life.  To stand by and watch me throwing one away through sheer stupidity was more than he could bear.  I deserved every word.

I dropped my head into my hands.   “What can I do?  How can I fix this?”

Pa sat down beside me and slipped his arm around my shoulders.  The same way he’d done so many times when I needed his help.  He’d never denied me, never turned me away, and wasn’t about to start now.  “Go to her.  Tell her.  Pray, she’ll forgive you.”

The long walks from the barn to the house carrying a note from the teacher were a breeze compared to this one.  Contempt ground itself into my being, and fear shortened my breathing.  How could I have risked all that Charlotte had given me?  Was I too late to put things right?  

Lying on the bed, my wife gazed out the window at the endless blue sky.  She didn’t look my way when I crossed the room. 

“Paul says you’re gonna be all right.”

“I’m sorry to cause a fuss.”

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” 

I sat down beside the woman I loved.  At least I didn’t see loathing in her eyes, but the sadness that fractured them was every bit as bad.  My fingers touched her cuff, fingering the frilly lace edge before they slid down over her wrist and thumb to settle into her palm.  Lifting her hand, I slipped my other underneath, cradling it within mine.  Raising her hand to my lips, I kissed the stiff fingers.  The uncertainty in her expression raked my soul.  How close was I to losing her forever?  I wouldn’t let that happen.  

“I’m so sorry.  I’ve been an idiot.  The way I behaved….  I won’t ask for forgiveness.  I don’t deserve it.”  Leaning forward, I caught her gaze and held it.  “I love you, and I promise.  I’ll spend the rest of my life making things right.”

“Oh, Joe.”  Her voice broke on my name. 

She flung her arms around me.  Her chest heaved against mine as she sobbed into my shoulder.  I held her tight and begged, “Don’t … please, don’t.  I can’t bear that I’ve made you cry.”

Charlotte hiccupped and pushed away.  Fumbling for her handkerchief, she blew her nose.  I took her face between my hands and brushed away the tears with my thumbs.  My stomach wheeled like soaring eagles when I saw the love in those beautiful eyes.  I didn’t deserve to be this lucky.

“The doc said a change of scene would do you good.  How about we take that trip to San Francisco?”

“Could we?”

“We’re all caught up with ranch business.  I can be spared for two weeks.”

When she hugged me again, I held her tighter still.  We stayed together, holding each other.  I’d come too close to destroying the best thing I’d ever had and wouldn’t risk our marriage again.  Moody was owed another visit. 

This time he didn’t offer me a drink. 

“Do whatever you want.  Take that license to a judge.  If it isn’t the forgery I know it to be, she’ll divorce you.  But Charlotte and I are staying together, and nothing you do will change that.”

His mouth contorted into an ugly line when my words sank in.  Our eyes locked.  Man to man, we stared each other down.  This time, he was ready for a fight.  He stepped forward.  I rolled my shoulders back and met him halfway.

“Walk away,” I told him.

“Not from Charlotte.”

“Take my advice and leave.  There’s no way this’ll end well for you if you don’t.”

I walked out, leaving him tight-lipped and breathing hard.  The next move was his, and his future was in his hands.

***

Chapter Twenty-One

Moody looked settled in, stretched out in one of the rocking chairs on the porch of The International.  I kept my eyes straight ahead.  He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of knowing I’d seen him.  But frustration kept my jaw locked tight.  He hadn’t seen the judge.  He hadn’t left.  What the hell was this man’s game? 

When the gifts started again, I intercepted them.  If Moody wanted to waste his money, let him.  But they wouldn’t reach his intended target.

Caught up on business, we might be, but there were still decisions to be agreed on before we left.  However, I took the time for a picnic with Charlotte. 

Leaning on my elbow, I watched my wife as she gazed over the lake.  It still scared me to know I’d almost lost her, and I was sensitive to any changes in mood.

“I love you,” I told her when I took her hand.  She smiled.  When it faded, I sat up.  “What is it?”

“I’ve heard that Henry is still in Virginia City.”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“One of the hand’s wives.”  I should’ve known.  The Ponderosa might be big, but the community of ranch hands was small.  Things were bound to get out.  Anxious eyes fixed on mine.  “You don’t mind me talking about him?”

“You can talk to me about anything.” 

“Why’s he still here?”

“I don’t know.  He’s got nothing to gain, and he knows that.  He’ll get the message once we go on our trip and move on.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”  I squeezed her hand.  “Trust me.  I’m gonna take care of you.  I’ve let you down—”

“Stop.  I don’t want your apologies.  All I want is to know you love me.”

I looked deep into her eyes.  “Never, even for a second, did I stop.”

***

Walking through the door, I heard Pa call from his desk, “You’re home.  Good.  I’ve remembered something.”

I threw Charlotte a wry smile and a wink.  She took the empty picnic basket and disappeared into the kitchen while I moseyed to the desk and propped myself on the edge.  When she came back through and headed upstairs to remove her bonnet, Pa and I were deep in discussion. 

Charlotte’s scream took me up the stairs at full pelt.  My hand tightened around the door frame when I followed her gaze to the bed.  On the pillow lay a stem of yarrow.  Its tiny white flowers already wilting. 

“It’s him.  He was here.”

Wrapping her in my arms, I tightened them to still her quivering. 

“How did he get in?” Pa demanded from behind me.

“I don’t know.  But it won’t happen again.”

“Will you see Roy?”

“Because he left a flower?”

Pa snatched the bloom off the bed.  “I get rid of this and speak to the men.”

“Thanks,”  I told him.  He nodded and closed the door.

Charlotte’s hands wound into my shirt.  “Why won’t he stop?”

“It’ll be all right.  I promise.” 

My gaze met my image mirrored back to me.  The hands that stroked Charlotte’s hair were soft like my words, but my eyes shone hard as granite.  Moody had made his move.  Now I’d make mine.

***

Chapter Twenty

My campaign to spoil Charlotte began the minute we stepped on board the Lightning Express from Virginia City to San Francisco.  A first-class carriage on the train, followed by a suite at our favorite hotel with French champagne and flowers waiting.  I made sure to give Charlotte the full princess treatment.  It wasn’t anything she didn’t deserve.  She’d forgiven me.  I wanted her to know I knew how lucky I was.

The road below the window of our fourth-story room was awash with carriages, despite being twice the width of Virginia City’s main street.  Simple buggies to fancy barouches and landaus moved back and forth.  Some stopped to allow their passengers to pass the time of day.  Weaving between the throng, cabs raced to get fares to their destinations, and at the side of the street were the carriages decked with glass cases or shelves from which purveyors sold their wares.  None of that interested me.  Across the street, a man leaned against the post on the sidewalk opposite.  Derby hat tipped in that familiar cocky angle.  He eyeballed the entrance of the hotel, and I watched him.

My hand came up to rest on the window jam.  On the other side of the glass, a spider scurried out of its corner to entomb a snared fly.  Leaning into the pane, I lowered my head.  I’d hoped his obsession wouldn’t bring him to San Francisco.  I’d hoped our leaving would make him give up.  I’d hoped the plans I’d made wouldn’t be necessary.  Screw hope.  Moody wasn’t going to stop.  I had to do the stopping.

“What do you think?”

Hearing the question, I turned.  My gaze ran over the gathered folds of the soft pink gown, around to the raised bustle at her rear.  The effect accentuated Charlotte’s trim waist in a way that I couldn’t complain about.  I smiled.  “Beautiful.” 

She blushed, and my smile broadened.  

Our first call when we arrived four days ago was to a dressmaker to order all those new gowns I promised.  I wasn’t proud that I used her time there to do what I needed.  But her excitement when those dozen boxes arrived salved my conscience.  Taking her hand, I drank in the full effect. 

“What?” she asked.

“I remember the first time I took you to dinner.  You wore that dress with those little buttons right up to your chin.  All I could think about was how much I’d like to undo them.”

“And there was me thinking I’d married a gentleman.”

“With you looking like that?” 

Her breathing quickened at the expression in my eyes. “We could skip dinner and go out for supper?”

“Again?”

Charlotte’s free hand reached for my white shirt.  Long fingers played with my string tie.  She bit her bottom lip, and her eyes gleamed up at me through long lashes.  “If you want.”

I kicked the door to the bedroom wider with my foot since my hands were occupied.  The dress dissolved to the floor, followed by my jacket and tie.  We missed supper too.

Charlotte lay curled against me with her cheek on my chest.  My hand caressed her hair in long, gentle strokes.  She would never know what I’d done or planned to do.  It was better that way. 

I put matters into operation the next day.  Telling Charlotte I needed to spend the evening with a business friend of Pa’s at his club, I prepared to leave. 

“You’ll be all right here?”

Charlotte looked up from her position, curled into an oversized overstuffed chair.  In her lap was one of the many new books she bought.  I’d joked that I’d have to buy a crate to get them home.  “Of course.  I can occupy myself for one evening without my husband.”

I grinned.  “Good to know.”

Standing in the hotel doorway where the light shone brightest, I waited while the doorman hailed me a cab and shouted the directions as loud as I dared. 

The cab driver took my money but had the heart to warn me about the neighborhood.  I thanked him and waited until he’d driven off before walking away.  Under a streetlamp, I took a moment to button my jacket before plunging into the murky lanes of San Francisco’s notorious Barbary Coast.

I knew where I was going.  Only a few days ago, I trod these same grimy streets.

Talking Pa around had taken some doing.  In the end, he’d contacted a friend he could trust.  One name jumped out of the list he sent us.  We had history.

Pushing back the heavy oak door to the ‘Quick Buck Saloon,’ I stepped inside.  The lady I wanted stood behind the bar holding a group of sailors entranced with some tale.  She’d come up in the world.  Still attractive, she dressed to let everyone know she owned the place.  It was impressive.  The shiny walnut bar I leaned on dominated one end.  Tables filled the rest of the room, where men were engrossed in their drinking or cards.  A staircase led to a balcony that stretched the entire back of the premises.  Women of various color and sizes draped the railing.  It seems drinks weren’t the only thing they served here.

I ordered a beer and waited.  When she finished her story, I strolled over.

“Hi, Kathleen.”

Her keen blue eyes scanned my face and narrowed.  “I know that face.  I’m thinking, Cartwheel … no, Cartwright.  My, you’ve grown.”

“Joe Cartwright.  You have a good memory.  It’s been a long time.”

“I never forget the men who kiss me.”  My smile widened.  “Sides, I was grateful to your father for not turning me over to the coppers.  Ben Cartwright.  Ah, I said he were class.  How is the sweet man?”

“The sweet man you sold?  Just fine.”

Leaning her elbow on the bar, she propped her chin on her hand.  “What brings you to my crib, Joe?  It’s a dangerous part of town for carriage trade to be playing in.”

“I’ve come prepared.”  Pulling back my jacket, I let her see my Colt.  She raised her eyebrows.  “I have business.  Can we talk?”

Surprise registered in her eyes, but she led me to the door to her comfortable office.  Dropping my hat on the desk, I lowered myself into the seat she offered.  When she heard what I wanted, she tilted her head and weighed me up anew.

“Can you help?”

“Sure.”

“How much?”

Kathleen came around the desk to sit on the edge next to me.  “For you.  Three hundred.  Plus, another kiss.”

I looked into those eyes that twinkled at me in a predatory, expectant way.  “Sorry.  I’m a happily married man.”

I began counting out the notes.  Kathleen sighed.  “Well, in that case, call it four.”  A hundred dollars or a kiss?  My hands hesitated.  I thought better of it and put down the extra.  Picking up the bundle, she folded it and tucked it down her inviting cleavage.  “It’s good doing business with you.  Get him here.  I’ll handle the rest.”

‘Get him here.’  Yeah.  Let’s hope so.  Stopping to drop a couple of dollars into the tin mug of an old sailor panhandling on a street corner, I ached to turn around and check.  But I knew Moody wouldn’t be able to resist following.  Haunting me had become as much his strategy as hounding Charlotte.  The back of my neck prickled when I pushed open the door to Kathleen’s place for a second time.  This had to work.

Two days later, the hotel prepared a picnic.  I hired a buggy and drove out of the city to the surrounding headlands that overlooked the bay and the ships that came and went.  I held Charlotte in my arms and gazed at the billowing white sails.  Among them was the Nightingale.  The one hundred and seventy-seven-foot clipper ship heading for Europe.  Kathleen had assured me, “He won’t be setting foot on these shores again for two years.”

The least I could do was see Moody off.  I didn’t feel good about my choice, but I didn’t regret it either. 

***

Chapter Twenty-One

I rolled up my shirt sleeves on my way down the stairs.  Pa and Candy had been waiting when the train drew in and greeted us with the expected enthusiasm.  Amid their welcome and transferring our luggage, Charlotte sat in the buggy, twisting her fingers and glancing around.  I wanted to tell her it was over, but that would have to wait.

Leaving her to rest, I joined Pa in the living room.  Coffee was waiting, and I helped myself to a cup.

“Everything went well?”

“Yeah.  Everything.”  Pa pursed his lips.  Our last discussion on the issue hadn’t been easy, but my mind wasn’t for changing.  “I know you disagreed.”

“No.  That he followed you to San Francisco proved you were right.”

“He’ll have plenty of time to get over Charlotte.  With luck, he’ll start a new life in Europe.  Remember, he can get a job anywhere.”

“And if he comes back with a score to settle?”

“I’ll deal with that if it happens.”

Candy walked in from the kitchen carrying a plate.

I grinned.  “Hop Sing?”

“He thinks you can’t last till dinner.”

I laughed, but my mouth watered at the sight of the slices of beef dripping down the side of the sandwich. 

Pa rose and went to his desk to return with an envelope.  “This is for you.”

“What is it?” I mumbled through my mouthful.

“It’s the reply from the clerk in the district where Moody’s license was supposedly issued.”

“How?”

“To be prepared, Hiram went ahead and contacted them.”

When I stood, the movement at the top of the stairs caught my eye, the brief flash of skirts before it disappeared.  The envelope Pa held contained the knowledge of whether Moody and Charlotte were married.  I knew what I had to do.

Pa’s hand reached for mine when I struck a match.  “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I dropped the burning envelope into the grate, letting the flames engulf it.  When I looked up, Pa was smiling, but he wasn’t looking at me.  Charlotte stood on the half-landing.  Tears ran down her cheeks, but her smile was the largest ever.  She knew I’d never doubt her again. 

When she rushed down the stairs, I stepped forward to meet her.  I kissed her in a way that said I didn’t care who was watching.  When we broke apart, I turned to find the room empty.  Pa and Candy must’ve hightailed it to the kitchen.  Not one to waste an opportunity, I kissed Charlotte again.

A little breathless, she nestled her head under my chin.  I ran my fingers down her cheek, tilted her head, and looked into that darling face.  “I love you, Mrs. Cartwright.” 

***

Epilogue

I handed the documents Pa had given me to Hiram.  A damn good lawyer, the one thing I could rely on was his efficiency and thoroughness.

“Thanks for helping with that Moody thing, by the way.”

“Not at all.  I thought you’d want me to send out a copy of the clerk’s reply right away, so you’d have it when you got back.”

“And the original?”

“Tucked away safe and sound. I hear that fella has left town, but should he ever return, we’ll be ready to prove that license of his isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”

Stepping onto the boardwalk, I looked across the street to the mercantile.  Through the large windows, I saw Charlotte looking at curtain material for our new home.  Smiling, I strode across towards my beautiful wife and our life together with confidence. 

After all, Candy was right.  I was only human.

*** The End ***
July 2023

If you’ve enjoyed my story, please consider scrolling down to the comments and letting me know.

***

Author’s notes:

A big thank you to my Beta, Pat.  Who provided a second pair of eyes and an honest opinion. 

***

Episodes referenced:

San Francisco – written by Thomas Thompson

Forever – written by Michael Landon

A Cartwright Christmas Story

By taiwankima09

“I was still miles from home on Christmas Eve…laden down with Christmas gifts for my family. I had gone to Carson City to get a special gift for Pa. To keep myself warm and awake, I reminisced with Cochise about Christmases past.”

“Tonight, is such a beautiful night, Cochise. It’s so quiet and peaceful, the moon is so bright, along with the crisp cold air and the multitude of bright stars shining down at us. I love gazing at them and remembering how Pa had taught me the names of all the stars.”

“Tonight, reminds me of one of Pa’s favorite Christmas carols. I can hear him singing, “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear.” Joe starts humming to himself.

“You know Cooch, I never realized how lucky my brothers and I were and are to have Christmas always be a special time.”

“Every year, since I can remember, I couldn’t wait for Christmas to come. For a couple of weeks before the special day, I’d be the perfect son, doing everything Pa and Adam wanted me to do so Santa Clause would bring me gifts.”

“We always had a lot to do before the big day. The first thing, Pa and my brothers would do is wait for safe weather before going to hunt for the perfect Christmas tree. When I was older, I joined them. For many years, we had to wait, until the last minute,to get the tree because of bad storms. We always took our time choosing the right one because it had to be high enough to reach the top of the stairs and be wide and full all the way around. After we got home, Pa and Mama would drink eggnogs with whiskey while my brothers and I would drink hot cocoa to warm us up. Mama had a special recipe for both drinks which later Hop Sing made for us.”

“After warming up, we’d string the tree with popcorn and hang tinsel. Next, we’d decorate the tree with Mama’s special ornaments from New Orleans. After that, Pa or my brothers would put Mama’s angel on top. At the end of the tree decorating, Pa and Adam oversaw putting the candles on the tree in strategic places so the light would glow all around the tree. While we were decorating it, we sang Christmas songs, sometimes off key, and argued where to put different decorations. Every night until we had to take the tree down, I remember sitting in front of it for hours in wonderment at how beautiful it looked.”

“By the way, I never told anyone but I always felt sad for the tree to be cut down so we could enjoy it for a few weeks because  the day after New Year’s, we’d all have to take the beautiful decorations down before the needles on the tree became dry and could cause a fire.”

“Mama and Hop Sing started another Cartwright tradition of spending days making all kinds of Christmas cookies. The smell of the wonderful spices filled the whole house, like the ginger for the gingerbread men. Hop Sing would clear the table and we’d decorate them to later give to friends who came to visit.” Of course, we’d eat them, too.”

“I remember one Christmas, Hop Sing had to go to San Francisco for some family emergency. We told him not to worry because we could make the Christmas dinner. We thought how hard could it be? Boy, were we wrong! While the turkey was roasting, we were talking in the living room. Without warning, we heard a loud explosion. We all jumped. We discovered later that we had over-stuffed the turkey with dressing and that’s why it exploded.”Joe laughed.

“Ooo, it’s cold. I don’t know about you Cochise, but I’ll be glad to get home to a nice warm fire and to Hop Sing’s Christmas Eve dinner. I just hope Hoss leaves me some.” Joe smiles.

An hour later, Joe walks into the living room: “Merry Christmas everyone!”

“It’s about time you got here, little brother. I’ve been… tortured with the smells of Hop Sing’s delicious cooking. How long can a poor man wait?”

“It‘s good for you to have to wait older brother – builds character.”

“Hahaha. Very funny!”

“Any problems getting home son?”

“No, I got delayed at Carrie’s. She made me sit down and eat something with her. I’m glad I went because I think she’s lonely, but she’ll never admit it.”

Ben asks, “How is she doing?”

She’s fine. Cantankerous as usual and she probably says the same thing about me.”

Pa chuckled and nodded.

“At first, she wouldn’t accept the supplies I took her because she doesn’t like charity. I had to convince her to accept them. With this cold winter, I was afraid, she might not have enough food and supplies to last until Spring. When are all the guests supposed to be here?”

Ben responded, “Any time now.”

“Good. It’ll be good to see everyone and their families. I haven’t seen Mitch in months. Plus, Roy and Doc Martin, of course. No offence Pa but it’ll be nice to see other people besides you and my brothers! While we’re waiting for them to arrive, I’ll go clean up and wrap some gifts.

“Don’t be too long, Joe.“

“Ok, I won’t.”

After finishing dinner, Joe tells Hop Sing, “This dinner is wonderful!”

Hoss nods. “I couldn’t agree more Hop Sing. Every year I think you can’t make a more delicious dinner. Then the next year, you do!”  

After everyone is settled, Ben asks, “Adam would you care to play us some Christmas carols on the guitar?”

“Sure, Pa. I’d love to.” Adam leads everyone with old familiar Christmas carols.

“I think we sounded pretty good – except maybe you, Hoss. You were a little off-key.”

“You ain’t no singer yourself, little brother.”

“Could everyone be quiet please. As you all probably know, one of the Cartwright traditions is to read the story of Christ’s birth from the Book of Luke.”

Listening to Pa’s voice filling up the room gives me a warm feeling, full of hope.”

To all the gals reading this, “Merry Christmas!”