Summary: Part ten of Home
Word Count: 9000
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Chapter 1
Ponderosa Ranch
Spring 1846
“Look over here, Little Joe!” Marie called over and the small boy spotted the results of the hard work of Adam and Hoss. “See what your dear, clever brothers made for you!”
The four year old stood wide eyed, his mouth a gape “A horse! A horse just for me!” The little boy was completely surprised by the unexpected treat.
His older brothers had fashioned a child size horse from a nail keg with a painted saddle. Adam had helped Hoss construct a horse’s head from scraps of wood cut wood and nailed it to one end of the keg. At the opposite end he had attached a hank of unraveled hemp rope for the tail. . Adam had taken some leather straps and fashioned a tiny bridle and reigns for the wooden horse.
By looping a rope over the tree limb Adam hung up the nail keg horse like a swing. The boy gently touched the horse’s head and watched as the wooden horse swung back. Little Joe removed his hand and the horse swung forward almost knocking the little boy over. His hazel eyes widened with awe. Then he pushed the horse again, this time harder. Joe laughed at the swinging horse.
“Careful, now darling. If you push the horse too hard, you can knock someone over, if they are in the way,” Marie explained.
“It’s a pretty wild mustang, Buddy and you have to gentle it,” Adam smiled.
“Is that horse really for me?” Little Joe squealed with surprise. The four year old nudged the swinging horse lightly to see it move again.
“Yes, darling.” Marie smiled holding her husband’s hand affectionately. They were enjoying the joy their youngest was taking in his gift as well as delighting in the cleverness of their older sons. Ben draped his arm around her and gave her a quick hug.
“Looks like a pretty wild horse, Little Joe. Don’t let it knock you over. You had better get in the saddle and tame this wild bronco, son, “ Ben lifted the boy onto the painted saddle. “Hold on here, “he wrapped the boys tiny hands on the wooden head and pushed the horse so it swung gently to and fro.
“Faster Pa!” Joe demanded. “Push the horse again!” Ben gave the toy a harder push.
“Ride ‘em Little Joe! “Adam and Hoss cheered as the swing rocked back and forth.
“Push me higher!” Joe demanded raising both his hands in the air.
”Hold on Joe! Don’t let your hands off that horse!” Adam shouted. Hoss grabbed the wooden horse and stopped the swinging before their brother fell off.
”Little Joe, you have to hang on to that horse or you will go flying off, son.” Ben wrapped his youngest son’s hands around the wooden head again. He gave the horse a gentle push and started it rocking again.
Joe quickly learned to shift his weight to make the horse swing faster and higher. He laughed with delight at the new toy.
“Do you like it Shorty? Adam figured how to make the thing and helped me build it just for your birthday. “ Hoss asked with a wide grin watching his baby brother swing higher and higher.
“Its wonderful, boys. What a lovely gift for Little Joe.” Marie kissed Hoss who threw his arms around her and hugged her back. He smiled proudly at what he had built and at the happiness he had created for his little brother.
Ben reached over to hug and kiss Adam who blushed and pulled away “C’mon, Pa! No open displays of affection here–people are looking! I’m too old for hugs and kisses from my own father.” Adam complained. “I’m not a little kid, like Hoss or Little Joe.” He squirmed aside and went instead to shake his father’s hand.
Adam’s complaint did not stop his father. “People are looking? It’s the family here, son.” Ben, instead, pulled him into an embrace and hugged him. “And you, Adam, will never be too old for your Pa to hug you. Never!’
“Faster, horsie!” Joe hollered as yanked harder on the rope so that the horse swung more furiously.
Chapter 2
Late Summer 1846
‘Is today Pay Day Pa?” Little Joe asked as he swung back and forth on his wooden horse. He was swinging and watching his father carry the last bag of feed from the wagon. He and Ben had just returned from Virginia City and he was aware that his father had lots of dollars in the bag from the bank that he had placed first thing in his lock box in the desk. Ben had taken off his gun belt and coiled it on the hall console having no need for it as he unloaded the wagon. It was too hot to have the extra weight on his hip.
The day was growing unusually warm and Ben hung their jackets on the hook by the door and rolled up Little Joe’s shirtsleeves.
“Hot enough to melt your whiskers off, son.” Ben smiled as they had a cool drink of water in the kitchen.
Little Joe rubbed his sticky hand over his own soft cheek and nodded. “Yes Pa, it sure did.” Ben chuckled and tousled his son’s hair.
”Let’s go unload that wagon, son.” Ben had put Joe out of his way on his horse swing while he emptied the back of the buckboard.
“Is it Pay Day, Pa?” Little Joe repeated as he swung in the shade.
“Pay Day? Yes it is son,” Ben answered as he finished bringing the last sack into the barn. He wiped his hands on his pants and stood for a minute watching his baby son across the yard. Surprised that a four year old was aware of such things as Pay Day for the hands, Ben walked across the yard to the boy.
“You notice a lot of things, son.” Ben smiled giving the back of the horse a gentle push.
“So I can help you Pa. Adam said he would give me a penny on pay day for helping gather eggs and feed Hop Sing’s chickens and other things.”
”And what?” Ben smiled.”
”And going to sleep with out any fuss and saying my prayers every single night and helping you, Pa by being a good boy. I helped Pa? Didn’t I?” Joe looked up at his father. “I do just what you tell me to do,”
”Yes, you did son,” He slowed down the swinging horse and kissed the top of Little Joe’s head. “You are a good helper and Adam is a good big brother.”
Little Joe slid off the horse, hitting the ground with both feet. “I’m hungry Pa. Could you get me some bread and jam?”
Before his father could answer, both Cartwrights realized a man had walked out of the shadows.
“Mr. Cartwright?”
Ben looked up from where he stood to see a black revolver aimed at him. It was in the shaky hand of Jack Amsted, one of the new wranglers.
“Put that gun down, Jack. What do you think you are doing aiming a pistol at someone?”
”I want the payroll.” Jack demanded. He aimed the gun at Ben’s midsection and cocked the hammer.
“Jack, you dang fool, if you don’t put down that gun I’m gonna take it away from you and wrap it around your thick skull!” Ben glared at the robber. He knew no one was near and that was probably why Jack planned to hold him up for the payroll before Adam and the men returned from the north pasture. Hoss was still at school and there was no one around the place who would interfere.
“No way Cartwright, I’ll shoot you first. I want that money and nothin’ you say is a gonna stop me.”
Ben backed up, putting himself between gun wielding Jack and Little Joe. “Jack, put the gun down.” Ben was unarmed and there was no way he could get inside to his gun belt in the front hall and make sure his child was protected.
“The money Cartwright! Now!” Jack demanded aiming the gun at Ben’s midsection. His jittery hand was shaking.
“Pa? “ Little Joe stood wide-eyed beside his keg horse.
“Don’t move Joseph!” Ben demanded. He prayed that for once his son would obey his orders and he could figure a way out of this fix.” Just lower the gun, Jack and I’ll get you the money. Leave my boy alone.” Ben knew he had the payroll gun hidden in his desk and if he could lead Jack inside he could defend himself and Little Joe. That is, if he could keep the man calm and keep Little Joe from crying or doing something impulsive.
“Now!” Jack was getting very jumpy. He wanted the payroll money before the rest of the hands started to arrive back at the bunkhouse.
“Pa?” Little Joe asked again as his father took a few steps backwards and Jack came closer.
“Joseph, come right over here. “ Ben reached his hand behind him to the little boy as he kept his eyes on Jack stepping closer. He could almost smell the rotgut whiskey on Jack’s breath. The man was sweating and his red-rimmed eyes were runny.
Just as Jack stepped under the tree, Little Joe put both of his little hands on the keg horse rear end and pushed with all his weight. The boy swung it hard at Jack. Little Joe lost his footing and tripped face first as the keg horse hit Jack in his mid section.
“Oof!” Jack grunted as the head of the wooden horse caught him in the crotch. His hand flew up and his gun fired in the air. Jack fell to his knees on the dusty ground clutching his groin. The horse’s tail end hit the back of his head as it swung back from it high arc. He curled into a fetal position and groaned pitiably.
“I’m dying,” he moaned from the ground.
Ben sprang forward and grabbed his pistol. Aiming it at the injured man crumpled in the dust he ordered “Don’t move Jack!”
Jack couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.
“Pa! I knocked the bad man down!” Little Joe cheered and wrapped himself around his father’s leg.
It took days before Jack Almsted could stand upright or use the outhouse without weeping and groaning. By that time he was locked securely in Sheriff Coffee’s jail awaiting the circuit judge’s arrival for the trial.
Most of Virginia City was chuckling at how four-year-old Little Joe Cartwright sucker punched the man who tried to rob his father. By the time the trial was completed, humiliated Jack Almsted was glad to be carted off to the territorial prison and prayed no one there knew he was laid low by a four year old kid and a wooden keg horse.
Chapter 3
Early Fall, 1846
Ben Cartwright rode up to the range carrying in front of him the four-year-old boy. They checked on the cattle or checked fence lines or went up to check the branding operations in the north meadow and rode around for a while before coming back. Fall round up would be soon and he would have to make arrangements for little Joe to stay with Rebecca Newkirk in the foreman’s house. Ben dreaded telling the boy but there was no other choice.
If Ben worked hard enough each day, he would be too tired by night to think about how much he missed Marie when he fell into his lonely, cold bed. Perhaps tonight he would sleep and not dream of his beloved wife galloping across the yard and the horse rearing throwing her to the hard ground before his eyes. Perhaps tonight he would not dream of her death in his arms or awaken to Little Joe crying hysterically for his mama who would never come back to him.
The evening was chill and sky was getting indigo when Ben rode into the yard with Little Joe in the saddle in front of him. The boy was leaning back cozily on his father’s chest, his eyes closed, his breathing slow, and his father’s coat buttoned cozily around them both. When they arrived back home in the gathering darkness, Hoss and Adam were standing on the shadowy porch watching for Ben.
Both older boys walked over to their father’s horse. Little Joe was dozing in his father’s arms clutching one of his little wooden horses tightly in his hands. His cheeks were pink from being outside all day and his chin rested on his chest.
“Pa, hand him down here to me.” Adam called up to his filthy tired father. Ben carefully handed the limp, little boy down into Adam’s strong hands and then dismounted. “We waited on eating dinner until you got home, Pa.”
Ben nodded wearily. Food held no real interest or appeal to him but he knew he should eat something. He should also spend some time with Adam and Hoss and see how they were.
“I’ll tend to your horse, Pa. Adam and me did all the other chores too.”Hoss took the reigns and led his father’s horse to the barn.
“Pa, you can’t be taking him with you all over. Little Joe needs to learn that,” Adam said as he carried his sleeping brother over his shoulder.
“No I don’t. Not never.” Joe whispered in his brother’s ear. He wasn’t as sound asleep, as they had assumed. “Pa still needs my help.” Joe wound his arms tightly around Adam’s neck. The little brother fell back asleep with his cheek against his older brother’s shoulder.
Chapter 4
Virginia City
Fall, 1873
When Eric had come to visit the rest of the Cartwrights in the past, Elizabeth would get very angry when he came near Adam. She would push her sweet cousin away and say jealously “That is my Papa”. She got especially annoyed when Eric slipped up and called her father “Uncle Papa” Elizabeth pinched her poor cousin and if her brother Sam hadn’t pulled her off, she would have bitten poor Eric too. Even though Eric was far bigger he never raised a hand to his cousin and just shrank back.
Adam gave in to Elizabeth. Rather than fueling the conflict, he decided not to fuss over Eric when Elizabeth was around, He figured that Ben and Joe paid enough attention to the chubby boy.
“That poor child has no father! He is your dead brother’s only child,” Kate raged at him. “Don’t you forget that Hoss died protecting our son!”
Adam nodded silently and looked at the shiny toes of his boots. “You are giving in to that little tyrant, Adam! Just you wait your daughter has your wrapped around her little finger. All she needs to do is bat her long eyelashes at you and you give in to her.” Kate was very angry that her husband was spoiling their little girl.” Just you wait until she is sixteen years old and thumbs her nose at you and runs off with a river boat gambler or a gypsy or a bounty hunter or a saddle tramp….” Kate started listing every horrible image she could think of to scare Adam.” Or one of those faith healers or a…a.. bank robber!”
Adam stared at her. He knew Kate was mad when she said “your” daughter, not “our “ daughter. “But she is so cute, Katie.” Adam tried unsuccessfully to defend his baby.
”Cute? She beat poor Eric black and blue because that sweet boy just wanted to sit in your lap! That isn’t cute. I’m so embarrassed. I had to write a letter to Andrea apologizing for your daughter’s rudeness. You had better be extra nice to your nephew when you go up to Elm Grove or else the poor child will hate us.”
Unfortunately, all things combined made Eric steer clear of his Uncle Adam. Adam nodded silently. As usual, his wife was right.
“She’ll be screaming ‘Off with his head’ like that French queen.”
”Marie Antoinette?” Adam shivered at the image of his darling raven-haired daughter sending Eric to the guillotine.
“And if you don’t stop spoiling Elizabeth….” Kate tried to think of a threat but Adam looked so upset by her remarks she didn’t say anything more. She knew she had made her point and gave him a hug.
Chapter 5
Massey Ranch
Late Fall, 1873
“Uncle Adam made this horse especially for you, Sweetie,” Joe smiled at Eric as he lifted the new keg horse out of the wagon. He put it on ground so his nephew could admire the gift. Eric patted the wooden head and pulled on the little reins. “That was real nice of Uncle Adam, wasn’t it Eric?” Joe encouraged.
The little boy looked warily at Adam and nodded, “Thank you, sir.” Then he hugged and kissed Joe.
“How are you managing with Will gone?” Ben asked his daughter in law protectively. Will had left Massey Ranch a few weeks earlier to work in Sacramento building a trestle for the rail roads.
”Red is doing more. But there isn’t that much going on here. Maybe we should come and live in Virginia City, Ben.” Andrea put her arm around her father in law’s waist.
”We all would love to have you nearer. “ Ben smiled and hugged her close.
”Even my little daughter Princess Elizabeth, the tyrant.” Adam said apologetically. He had spent a long time alone with his daughter explaining how she had to be kind to Eric and never hit or pinch anyone. Then he told her a long bedtime story about a good little princess who shared the wise king with the yellow haired prince hoping she would get the point.
Eric tugged on his grandfather’s tan sheepskin coat and smiled up at him. “Thank you! It is my very best gift!” Eric looked more and more like his father each time they visited. Ben could just see Hoss at that age and smiled. Placing a large hand on either side of Eric’s chubby face he told him, “Uncle Adam made this horse especially for you Eric. Your Pa and Uncle Adam made one for Joe when he was a little boy like you.”
”It was my favorite toy when I was your age, Eric.” Joe added with a smile. “Uncle Adam made it for you,” He repeated hopefully.
“Uncle Joe and I will hang it up for you so it can swing back and forth.” Adam said. He wanted his nephew to enjoy his gift. Kate had urged her husband to do something special for the boy.
“Adam, how about hanging the horse in the barn? Now that it is getting cold, Eric plays in the barn while Red milks the cow and tends the horses.” Andrea suggested. She pulled her paisley shawl closer as a cold gust blew at them. It was the shawl Hoss had given her just before he was killed and she wore it when she missed him. Andrea realized she had been wearing it very often recently, especially since Will Cartwright left and Red busy was studying for college entrance exams. Doctor Smith spent more of his time tending the Indians or playing Andrea’s piano in the parlor.
“Sounds good to me, we can hang it off one of the beams or the supports of the loft. You can ride it before lunch, little man, “ Adam scooped up the boy and hugged him.
Eric said “Really? I can? You can take a turn too Uncle Joe.” Eric squirmed to look over his shoulder at his other uncle. Adam set him back on the ground and smoothed the boy’s blue jacket.
Everyone laughed because it was clear that none of the Cartwright grandchildren could discern if Uncle Joe was one of the adults or a child like they were. Sam still came to the Ponderosa and would occasionally ask his grandfather if Uncle Joe could come out and play or go fishing.
“Before lunch, Adam.” Ben cautioned. “Don’t make this a major engineering project or a year long production.”
”Eric wants to use the thing before he shaves or gets married…” Joe teased.
”OK, OK! “ Adam smiled and held his hands up over his head as if Ben and Joe were going to hit him. Joe knew that Kate had lectured Adam on his spoiling Elizabeth and Joe thought it was the funniest thing he ever heard. Kate would always put the Cartwright men to task. Even Joe towered over her but she could put them in their place when she put her mind to it.
Adam had always been so good at making Little Joe toe the line and as Sam’s father he would be firm with the boy. When it came to Elizabeth, Adam just melted into a puddle. Ben and Joe laughed behind his back at his blind adoration of the little girl who looked so much like him.
”Eric, it’s a good thing Uncle Adam is cooperating here…If it weren’t for Grandpa telling him what to do for you, he would spend two days measuring and making drawings and figuring which beam could bear the stress and the angle the horse is gonna swing and the weight bearing thing a ma bob thing.” Joe joked with a big grin. Ben laughed “Your brother is not that bad, Joseph.”
”Oh yes he is, “ Joe continued. “Andrea, you should see him when Katie asks him to hang up a picture in the house. It took them months to hang up that dang ugly thing with the fruit in the dining room. Winches and pulleys and wires and measuring…” Joe made a silly face and Eric laughed and tried to make the same face as his uncle.
“Stop Joe you are terrible! It’s a lovely painting.” Andrea laughed. She put her hand on Adam’s arm. “I think it is a very beautiful work.”
”Thank you, Andrea,” Adam put his finger to the brim of his hat. He tried to take Eric’s hand, but the boy remembering his cousin’s possessive pinches, shied away.
“Uncle Adam belongs to Elizabeth.” Eric said seriously as he slipped his little hand into Ben’s.
“He is Elizabeth’s father but he is your uncle, just like Uncle Joe.” Ben tried to explain as Joe picked up the keg horse and followed Adam and Andrea to the barn. Ben was sure that by the end of the visit the little boy would be more comfortable with his older uncle. Especially now that Adam was making the extra effort.
The family all walked toward the barn to watch the new keg horse get hung up. Eric skipped along next to Ben, eyeing Adam suspiciously over his shoulder.
Chapter 6
October 16, 1873
Dear Adam,
The work here in California is progressing very well and I think I finally found the right job for me right now. The weather has been agreeable and the crew hard working.
Adam, I really appreciate you getting me connected with the Union Pacific men on this trestle project. I am working very hard and they seem more than satisfied with me.
Being the foreman for Andrea was not going to work out. I don’t have the skill that your father or you or Joe would have in running a ranch. Even with Ben’s help, there was no way I was going to manage running the place the way Andrea needs or deserves.More importantly, it was much too hard for me to spend time around Eric without me missing my daughter, Peggy more than I could bear. I don’t know if I will ever get over her murder. It was far too painful for me to let him get too close to me and that was not fair to the boy. He’s a fine boy, Adam. Hoss would have been mighty proud of him.
Maybe I was just meant to be a roamer like I’ve been most of my life. With Red hoping to study back East, I am sure Andrea will soon need more help. I tried unsuccessfully to line up some men to get her through the winter but I really agree with Kate’s suggestion of Andrea selling the ranch once and for all and coming to stay in Virginia City and be near the family.
I’m real sorry if I am a disappointment to you and your father once again.
I hope to be here working and building your trestle with the Rail Road through the spring and will be glad to come up to Elm Grove at that point if Andrea would need my help for a while to close up. It is just staying on for a long time that I can’t promise.
Send my best to Katie, Ben and Joe and your children.
Thanks again for all you have done. I never deserved it Adam, after all the trouble I caused you and the rest of the family.
Will
October 22, 1873
Dear Joe,
Meg told me about the livestock your sister in law will be selling and I think that I am interested, particularly in the cattle. Even if it is a very small herd, I know it is fine quality breeding stock and it would be well worth my coming to see it.
I can arrange to meet you up at the Massey Ranch to make the arrangements at the same time you both will be visiting.
Bonnie and our children send you and your father their best regards.
Pierce Winslow.
Chapter 7
Circle D Ranch, Nevada Territory
1859
The very last words twelve year old Meg Thackery remembered hearing her father say to her were “You are too smart for your own good.”
“I am not near as pretty as Amy “ Meg whispered to her mother. She stood in her parent’s bedroom watching her mother hurriedly change into her second best dress. Mrs. Duprey wanted to get ready and leave for the quilting guild at Rebecca Newkirk’s house before her husband, Carl got back home.
“You are just as pretty as both your sisters.” She put some of her special floral cologne on her throat and touched her finger to Meg’s slender wrist to share a bit of the fragrance with her youngest daughter. Her older two girls were downstairs putting the finishing touch on Amy’s new yellow dress. Her oldest daughter insisted that she wanted to wear it to church the next day for no particular reason. Her mother knew she wanted to look particularly pretty for Little Joe Cartwright. His family usually took the pew in front of the Duprey’s. For years jealous Carl Duprey spent half the service angrily staring at the back of Ben Cartwright’s neck.
”Maybe prettier. They are older. You are at an in between age, not a little girl and not quite a young lady.”
“Oh no! Amy and Allison are far prettier than me.” Meg looked at her reflection in the mirror over the bureau.
“Who said that, Meg?” her mother was aghast.
“Papa.”
“Your father is very wrong, my little Buttercup.” she said firmly. Carl Duprey was often wrong but he never would admit it. She took her bonnet off the peg on the wall and put it on. She stood next to Meg at the mirror and tied the bow as they both gazed at their reflections in the looking glass. “He is very wrong.”
“No, he isn’t. Don’t say that about papa!” Meg defended her father all the time even at her own expense.
“Well, he is very wrong. You are as pretty as your sisters. Prettier perhaps and certainly smarter than they are, even now.”
“But they are… are…” Meg couldn’t think of the word to describe her older sisters who already had womanly figures. “They are rounder then me!”
Mrs. Duprey smiled and said “Meg, they are older than you. When Amy and Allison were your age they were slender just like you are. I was too. Soon you will be rounder too. Just you wait.”
“Pa said I am too smart for my own good,” Meg frowned. Her hair was too straight. Amy and Allison had thick blond curls.
Mrs. Duprey was more annoyed at her husband that she could say to her daughter.
“You are pretty and smart and your father is not always the’ be all and end all ‘expert on all things. I’ll tell your father that when I get back. You just be very proud of your smartness. I certainly wish that Amy had a little of that sense in her head. At least I certainly do in regard to her head being filled with silly flirting.” Mrs. Duprey knew instinctively her beautiful, blonde oldest daughter was meeting Joe Cartwright on the sly and she worried that the girl had not enough sense to keep things between her and the handsome youngest Cartwright boy under control. She certainly didn’t want a rushed marriage like the upcoming one for Melissa Peters and Jack Fischer.
Meg smiled, “Thank you Mama. Do you really think Amy thinks I am smart?” Meg couldn’t believe either of her older sisters would say anything nice about her.
”Allison too. Both of your sisters know you are quite smart. They just are so foolish right now with their flirting with boys that they will never admit it to you. And mark my words Margaret, not only will you be as pretty as those too, you are the smartest of my three Buttercups.” She hugged her youngest and headed for the door. “Now you go clean up that kitchen and let me get going to the Newkirks before your father gets back here. And your girls give Papa dinner when he gets back.”
Chapter 8
Meg walked into the kitchen and started washing the breakfast dishes. She poured a kettle of hot water into the dishpan and started on the plates. Allison and Amy were pinning up the hem on the new yellow dress and trying to decide how Amy should wear her hair to church the next day.
“I like it with braid up on top of your head. I’ll fix it for you in the morning.” Amy offered. She was kneeling on the floor next to her sister pinning up the unfinished hem on the yellow dress.
“But Joe likes it more the other way, with the it pinned loose.” Allison turned a few steps so Amy could do the next section of the hem.
”I like the braid,” Meg suggested trying to be part of the discussion. She had finished the plates and was rinsing her mother’s blue flowered teapot.
“No one asked you, baby Meg!” Amy snapped. “You don’t know anything about hair. Just horses and cattle”
“And pigs and goats.” Allison added giggling.
“And sheep too.” Amy laughed. “You don’t know anything smarty pants,”
Her sister’s remark was so stinging and sharp that Meg flinched and the teapot slipped from her hands. The spout chipped against the frying pan.
Meg looked at the chipped teapot in her hand. She knew she would be in trouble. It was a special favorite piece of her mother’s. Her father had given it to Mama for her birthday a year earlier and she loved it. Now she had ruined it.
“Now look what the careless, clumsy baby has done!” Amy snipped.
Allison laughed, “Mama is going to be so mad at you Meg!”
”You will surely get a spanking careless baby!” Both sisters laughed at her. Meg looked at the chipped teapot in her hands. “Maybe I can fix it. Maybe I can get a new one.”
”Oh no! I am going to tell Papa when he gets home. Then we will laugh at you even more when he spanks you.” Amy smirked.
“Then I will tell Pa you are sneaking out with Little Joe Cartwright!” Meg blurted out. Her two older sisters were picking on her and she was going to defend herself any way she could.
“Oh no you won’t!” Amy hollered. She knew her father would be furious. She snatched the teapot from Meg’s trembling hands and put it on the kitchen table.
“Yes I will Amy. And I am going to tell him that Allison helps you too!” if both her older sisters were going to gang up on her, she would show them both. She would get both of them in trouble with her father. She would show them who would be in trouble.
Meg ran out to the father in the barn. He had just come back from checking the fences the Cartwrights had put near the Circle D boundary. Mr. Duprey was grouchy as usual when he had any dealings with the Cartwrights, real or imagined.
“Where is your mother? “ Carl Duprey looked down at his youngest daughter. He was finishing putting up his horse and doing the stable chores. He had three daughters who did nothing to help him run the place. All they did was yammer and giggle like a bunch of geese.
If he had three boys like Ben Cartwright, he would have three strong young backs to do chores instead of having to work so hard him. There would be no need for paying hands for work sons would do for nothing. Free ranch hands, that was what three sons could be. No wonder the Ponderosa was such a successful ranch. Ben Cartwright has those broad shouldered boys to work hard for him and he had yammering daughters who would need dowries.
Carl Duprey stabbed the pitchfork into the corner of the bedding and shifted it around. “I asked you where your mother is? I want my dinner.” He growled.
“She is at the quilting at Newkirks.” As the words escaped her lips, Meg realized she had just told Papa what her mother had told her not to say. Her father forbid his family from talking to the Cartwrights or stepping foot on the Ponderosa.
“That is on the Ponderosa and I told you all to steer clear of those high and mighty Cartwrights don’t you ever go near them. I have you three girls and that Ben Cartwright thinks he is so almighty grand because he has those three boys. Wait until your ma gets back I’ll give her a piece of my mind for going where I told her not to go. “ He pounded his fist into the barn wall angrily.
Meg jumped back toward the barn door; frightened at the trouble she may have accidentally created for her mother.
“But it is the quilting ladies and the Newkirks house isn’t the Cartwright’s house, Pa,” the girl tried to explain.
“Hays Newkirk is the Ponderosa foreman and it is the same thing. You work for a man like Cartwright your loyalties are to the high and mighty Cartwrights.” He growled jealously. Even Hays Newkirk had two strong sons. All Carl Duprey had was useless simpering daughters.
‘But it is Mrs. Newkirk mama is visiting, not the Cartwrights. Meg tried to reason with her angry father but he just got more furious.
“Don’t talk back to me, Margaret Duprey. You are too smart for your own good, little girl,” He went to backhand her but Meg ducked and skittered out the barn door. She ran as fast as she could out of the barn. Meg ducked under the board fence around her mother’s vegetable garden and scooted in between the rows of green beans.
Meg knew she needed to catch up with her mother and tell her what a mess of things she had made with her father and her sisters. By the time she came back home for supper with Mama, Papa would have cooled down. He always did. Let beautiful Amy and beautiful Allison deal with his angry temper and give cranky Papa dinner.
She shouldn’t have bothered him when he had just returned from checking the fences the Cartwrights had put up. She knew she was wrong talking to her father when he would be so crotchety. She should have helped him put up his horse, made him some dinner and then, when he was enjoying his coffee tell him what happened with Amy and Allison. That would have been a much better strategy than what she did.
Meg ran south, towards the boundary with the Ponderosa until she was out of breath. She sat down under a tree for a few minutes and collected herself. She decided that she could walk across the meadow and avoid the long way the road took her. If she were lucky, she could spot one of the hands from the Ponderosa who would give her a ride or one of the ladies headed for the Newkirk’s. If she had to walk all the way, she still would catch up with her mother before she left the Ladies Quilting Guild and ride back home with her.
Mama will know what to do.
Chapter 9
Boston, Mass.
November 7, 1873
Dear Adam,
We would be more than glad to help Andrea’s young friend when he comes to Boston. Red sounds like a fine young man and if there is anyway we can help him with college admissions we would be more than glad. With two of the boys at Harvard and Dennis Jr. at Harvard Law School, the Dean is a familiar guest at our dinner table. If the young man needs a year at Deerfield or some tutoring, to bring him up to speed I will make those arrangements too.
Cowboy, I will be seeing you in San Francisco in a few months and would be more than glad to travel back east with the lad if he wants to wait that long. Tell Joe that Robert is doing fine at Deerfield and will graduate with his class and Ethel and her pony are fine too.Regards from Amanda.
Best to all,
Dennis
PS Don’t forget how I helped one cowboy to survive college in Boston years ago. If, in a couple of years your Sam wants to join us, there is always here room too.
Chapter 10
Elm Grove
1873
Major Chadwick stood on the rise above the road leading into the Massey Ranch. He and his men were half-hidden behind a rocky out cropping where Flanagan and had led him. Screened by boulders and the low scrub brush that grew along the top of the bank, Chadwick kept his field glasses trained on the cabin. His carbine lay nearby and he wore his pistol.
“I want to see who is here before we ride in.”
Kip Brown sat apart from the other men moodily polishing his gun and sipping from a
quart bottle of cheap whiskey.
Flanagan and Major Chadwick stood side by side watching and waiting. The men had been camped there for two days planning out their raid.
From where he was sitting against the boulder, Kip took his last pull on the whiskey and scrambled to his feet. He dropped his gun into his low-slung holster. “Let’s get moving,”
”Just sit back down and wait until we see the lay of the land, Kip. We wait until the Major tells us when to move out,” Al McCoy. He cleaned his nails with the point of a bone handled hunting knife and was in no rush. Five years in the Federal Penitentiary had taught him to be a patient man.
”Who made you my boss, Mc Coy?” Kip spit out at the older man.
”Flanagan and the Major are your boss. You just wait for their orders or you’ll be answering to this,” McCoy held up his knife.
“Anytime you’re ready to try, Pal!” Kip stared at him ready to draw.
Burly Tom Baxter stepped between them. “All right you two! Cut it off. Chadwick will tell youwho to shoot and when to cut a throat. I don’t want no trouble here until we get paid up you belong to Chadwick and Flanagan. We agreed to follow Chadwick and get paid when they got what we came here for. So just you two quit your fighting. We got plenty to do soon enough.”
“Better lay off that whiskey. You know Flanagan don’t like it when you get liquored up.” Baxter glared at Kip. “And you ain’t worth a plug nickel to us if you can’t see straight.”
”Don’t look like more than the old man, the red head hand and that tall cowboy. Them and the woman and the little kid.” Tom Baxter commented watching the ranch down below.
”That’s all? It’s a big place.” Kip said. He was itching to move out. He too had been in prison but he had never learned patience and probably never would.
”That’s all I’ve seen and I have been watching for two days. It may be a big ranch but they don’t seem to be doing much with it. Not too much stock. They don’t need many men for that run down place in the middle of winter.” Major Chadwick decided.
Flanagan took the field glasses from his partner and looked down at the ranch.
”The woman must be Danny’s sister. One of the men must be Massey.” Flanagan watched Andrea walk out of the barn carrying a bucket of milk.
“No he died years ago. They are must be ranch hands or guests.”
”Well soon they will be dead ranch hand or dead guests.” Flanagan decided.
Chapter 10
Nevada Territory
March 1873
Joe’s horse pounded up the creek bed, icy water flying under Cochise’s hooves. Joe caught sight of Meg on the trail and cut up the steep incline. She was too far ahead and he couldn’t hope catch up to her. As she rounded the bend in the trail, her hat blew off. As he expected, Meg was never going to stop to pick it up; not when she was in the lead.
He pulled Cochise to a halt and dismounted and picked up her blue gray Stetson. Putting the hat on the saddle horn, Joe remounted his horse and followed her at a canter. No need to wear out Cochise when they had a long ride in front of them. They would be riding most of the day until they reached Elm Grove.
It took Joe the better part of a mile before he was able to catch up with Meg as she raced down the trail. When he was finally able to, he reached out and grabbed the reins and halted the horse himself. Smiling slyly she complied and turned the horse so she sat facing him again. He handed her the hat. “I knew you would never stop to pick your hat up, Meggie.”
”I knew that you would, Joe,” Meg smiled triumphantly. She was riding a new horse that Thackery Auctions had purchased from a ranch outside of Carson City. Meg never rode one particular horse, preferring to select the best one around the auction yard or switching with one of her brother’s horses. Joe could never understand her reluctance to pick one particular horse for her own.
“Did you do that purposely? Toss down your hat knowing that I would stop. That’s really taking advantage of my gentlemanly nature and good manners.” Joe asked indignantly. Was Meg tricking him or was this going to be a fair race?
“Who said that all is fair in love and war?” Meg asked him.
“Sounds like something my brother Adam would say. Or Reverend Felcher but he would say it with more words and take longer to say it,”
”I’m changing your name to “Slow”. What is your problem, ‘Slow Joe’?” she laughed placing her hat back on her head and flinging her blonde hair back over her shoulder. “I thought you said you rode faster than I could manage. ”
“Slow Joe! Slow Joe!” he hollered indignantly. “I’ll show you who is slow!”
”Watch your temper! Calm down. Don’t want Eric to see Uncle Slow Joe make a big darn fool of himself!”
”Me!“ Joe was getting angrier and angrier.” Meg Thackery you are gonna make me crazy! And we are not any where near the Massey Ranch. We still have a long ways to go, Buttercup.”
They rode for about a mile before Joe called to Meg. “Are you getting ready to quit?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and kicked her heels into her horse and took off galloping over the hill toward Elm Grove. “Goodbye Slow Joe!” she shouted over her shoulder as Joe raced behind her. And with a last flirtatious look in her blue eyes, she put her heels to the gray horse and sent him into a swift canter down the road.
At the top of the next rise she pulled up her horse again and blew him a kiss. Joe pulled Cochise up next to her and they stood stirrup to stirrup. “You won twice, and I won twice. Enough racing.” He took a drink from his canteen and handed it across to her.
“No bottle of sparkling champagne? You promised me a lovely romantic ride, sir.” She teased him again. She drank slowly from his canteen keeping her blue eyes on him. She slowly put the stopper back and returned the canteen.
“What’s the matter Slow Joe? Are you quitting now?” Meg grinned. That dare was enough for Joseph Francis Cartwright. He would show her who was going to win the last race. She was just so beautiful; she distracted him from his plan for an instant as the thoughts of being alone with her in Andrea’s house flashed through his mind.
“It’s getting cold. I think we might get some snow.” Joe looked at the sky as it grew sooty gray near the horizon.
He hoped to be sitting in front of Andrea’s fancy carved marble hearth sipping some brandy and holding Meg’s hand by the time the weather turned bad. He could teach Eric how to make a snowman in the morning if there was enough accumulation or even rig up some sort of sled for him. And if he and Meg got snowed in for a few days, Joe would just have to extend their visit a bit longer. Joe wouldn’t mind in the least and he was sure Meg wouldn’t either. Maybe Doctor Smith would play the piano and they all could dance too. Pa would just have to make do without him on the Ponderosa for a few days more.
“Slow Joe!” she challenged, interrupting his daydream and ignoring his comment on the weather. “I’ll bet you can’t beat me to that twisted tree up there.” She pointed to the crest of the next hill.
“Hold up a minute here. I think I’ve got to adjust my gear.” They drew their reins and Joe jumped down from the saddle. He made a big show of pulling off his gloves and fumbling with buckles and checking his saddlebags. He fished under Cochise and adjusted the cinch. All the time he was watching Meg from the corner of his eye.
“Last run. And what do I win if beat you, Miss Meg? “ Joe knew what stakes he was hoping for but loved to hear the words come from her lips. “Marry me? How about that?“
”Sure Slow Joe! I’ll take that bet. You are going to die an old maid, Mr. Cartwright because I am far faster. I am a far better rider than you and this horse is far better than yours… and I am prettier too.”
Joe threw his head back and laughed. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he convulsed with laughter at her “Old Maid” remark. ”Meg, men aren’t Old Maids! Joseph Francis Cartwright is Virginia City’s most coveted bachelor! Women fall at my feet and swoon.” He put his gloves back on and looked at her.
”Oh ‘ Slow Joe’,” Meg teased him again. “Women fall at your feet and swoon? Maybe you should take a bath more than once a month! They are fainting from how stinky you are. Not how pretty!” Meg teased him relentlessly. She truly thought Joe was the most handsome man in the entire world but she would never tell him that. No need for him to get a swelled head.
“Ooooh, didn’t hear any complaints last night from you, Miss Meg Buttercup. You sure were swooning!” Joe smiled impishly hoping to make her blush. He didn’t succeed but he sure had fun trying. He never had more fun with anyone than he had with Meg.
“And my horse is a far better steed than your beloved Cochise.” Her violet blue eyes blazed. She knew that Joe would really be riled up by any insult to his beloved pinto. Meg sat back in her saddle and watched Joe’s face. If she could make Joe loose his concentration. Meg felt she had a chance at beating him in this round too.
”Oh no! Meggie!” He bellowed throwing his hands into the air dramatically. He was trying his best to sound threatening but only succeeding in making her laugh harder. He took out his neckerchief and acted as he was weeping loudly. His mock whimpering echoed off the hills “Boo hoo! Boo hooo!” Joe squeaked in a high voice much like the voice he used for the leprechaun in the bedtime stories he told his little nephew, Eric.
She laughed loudly throwing her head back, until real tears were streaming down her own cold cheeks. “You darn fool you! You are going to make me laugh so hard I will fall off my horse.”
He shook his head in mock despair. “But, Meg, you insulted my horse and Cochise is very hurt. Extremely hurt! Maybe you need to give Cochise a sincere apology, Miss Thackery and beg forgiveness.”
“I should apologize to a horse?” Meg giggled.
He climbed down from the saddle and made a dramatic display of patting Cochise’s nose as if he was consoling his black and white horse. No other person in the world would have laughed at his ridiculous behavior but his Meg. Any one else seeing Joe hopping around and squeaking in the middle of the trail would have deemed him loco and tied him to the nearest tree with a stout rope.
Joe gripped the horn of his saddle and looked across Cochise’s back at Meg trying to decide what to do next in this amusing game. He shifted his weight. Joe was determined to win the next race, as it would have to be their last. It was a long ride to the Massey Ranch and if they raced around much more, the horses would be too worn out. They needed to give the horses some rest while they ate lunch.
He patted the side of Cochise’s neck again. Joe made a big display of checking the rawhide straps holding the saddlebags onto his horse. The heavily tooled saddle creaked in the frigid air. One pouch was filled with vials of medicines that Doctor Paul Martin was sending up to Ka-Pusta with Joseph. The other had his clean clothes and some gifts for Eric and Andrea. Adam had sent a book of poetry for Red to read for his college entrance exams and Sam had sent a basic Latin text that he had used with Emily O’Mara the summer in Boston.
He dug into that bag and took out two apples from their lunch. He tucked one into his coat pocket and took a bite from the other. “Cochise really loves apples Meg.” Joe took a bite of the crisp apple then twisted it in half easily offering it on his open palm to Cochise. Joe fed the rest of his apple to his horse as he watched Meg from the corner of his eyes.
“Oh Meg, my sweet Buttercup, Cochise is too sad and insulted to ever forgive you for your rude comments. Did you ever see a horse weep?” He started laughing so hard that he had to turn his face away from her.
Pulling the other apple from his coat pocket he flipped it to Meg who reached up and caught it. Then, Joe spun around quickly and vaulted into the saddle and quickly pulled Cochise around. The horse stood straight up and pawed the air for just an instant as Joe whooped and raced down the trail. He touched his boot heels to his horse and was rewarded with a solid gallop. He raced off toward the finish line before Meg realized he had taken off.
She sat watching his dust, looking at the apple in her hand and laughing at Joe’s trick. With one smooth motion, Meg flung the apple at the trunk of a bare tree. It hit with resounding thunk and Meg rode after him.
Within seconds, he heard the sound of hoof beats in hot pursuit but knew there was no way that Meg was going to catch up to him going up the steep hill. He looked back to see her leaning forward in the saddle urging the tired gray into a run but it was too late for Meg to catch up to him.
At the tree, Joe stood in the stirrups, took his hat off and waved it victoriously in the air and bellowed to the sky “I won! Now you have to marry me, Buttercup! And apologize to Cochise too.”
Meg galloped up next to him and smiled sweetly “Someday, Joe. Not right now.” Much as she did every time the subject came up between them.” Let’s go. If you want to get to the Massey ranch by supper and play with Eric before he goes to sleep, we need to ride a ways before we stop again.”
Joe stared at her and smiled widely. “And?” Joe grabbed her bridle.
”Oh I am so sorry, Mr. Cartwright, Slow Joe. I am so sorry Cochise for ever saying you weren’t the best and fastest horse in Nevada.”
Joe tipped his hat and let go of her bridle. “We both accept your humble apology, Meggie.” He smiled and patted Cochise on her neck. Leaning over, Joe whispered into the horse’s ear, “We won, Coochie.”
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