October 2001
Jim Dawson whistled softly as he rode into the main corral before the large ranch house, which housed his employers, the Cartwrights. Today felt like an extra fine day somehow. The sky was clear and blue, the birds were chirping gaily and a soft breeze blew through the trees covering every part of the vast Ponderosa. It was simply the kind of day that made a man feel good and glad to be alive. A steady horse beneath him and the prospect of a good meal and a game of cards ahead of him made Jim smile. He was a man who worked hard and took time to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. The fact that he’d been sent to Virginia City for a few hours today to pick up the mail and send a few telegrams for Mr. Cartwright, and had therefore had time to stop in for a cold beer with a pretty saloon gal hadn't hurt his feelings a bit either.
“Howdy, Jim!”
Jim heard the voice and shaded his eyes from the sun to get a look at the owner, though in truth he had known who it was without bothering to look. It was hard not to when he was the only little young’un on the whole spread. “Howdy, Little Joe! You getting them broncs busted for me, partner?”
The eleven year old boy laughed and hopped down from the fence where he had been watching a couple of the men tame the wild horses his father wanted to turn into riding stock. Little Joe was not considered big enough or strong enough to do the job himself, but everyone knew it would only be a matter of time. He was already an amazing rider and once the initial fit of hellfire and stubbornness had been ridden out of a wild horse, there was nobody on the whole Ponderosa who was better at training and gentling those animals than this boy.
“Cole and Danny have broken three horses since you left for town,” Joe reported to the hand, “but they’ve both gotten pitched off that big red sorrel twice already.”
Jim
dismounted and hitched his thumbs into his belt, approaching the corral with an
exaggerated mosey that set the boy laughing again. “Well, now, maybe I ought to just get on in there and show
‘em how it’s done!”
“Maybe you just should!” shouted Cole McGwire from the fence where he’d been listening to the exchange with a toothy grin. Cole was a big man, twenty years old with a shock of bright red curls, vivid blue eyes and a hint of a Scottish burr. He winked broadly at his partner, Danny Martinez, a nineteen year old Mexican vaquero who had signed on to the Ponderosa just recently. “What do you think, Dan? You think the old man can show us how it’s done?”
Danny thoughtfully smoothed his thin goatee, casting a doubtful eye on Dawson. “No, amigo, I think he is much too far past his prime to attempt anything so dangerous. Say, Jim, there’s a nice rocking chair on the porch over there if you need a rest after that long ride in from town!”
Jim
stooped and clutched at his back, puckering his lips over his teeth and
squinting at his friends, threatening them with an imaginary cane. “Why, you whippersnappers!
In my day, we knew how to show some respect!” This performance from a man who was only twenty five years
old himself, sent his two fellow ranch hands and the boy at his side into fresh
gales of laughter. Jim chuckled
too. “Actually, boys I think
I’ll leave the dirty work to you today. I
got that fence to check on the north rim, just as soon as I drop off the mail to
the house.”
“I’ll
take it,” volunteered Joe. “I
was about to head in anyway. They’ll
probably be calling me any second for…”
“Lunchtime,
Little Joe!” The voice of Joe’s father, Ben Cartwright suddenly bellowed out
clear and strong from the doorway of the main house.
“Lunch,”
finished Joe with a grin.
The
three cowboys grinned back at him. A
man could set his watch by the meals Hop Sing served to the Cartwright family.
Jim fished into his saddlebag and pulled out a string tied bundle of
letters and papers, which he handed to the child.
“Looks like there’s one for you today Joe, right there on top.”
An expression of delight brightened the boy’s cherubic face. “It must be from Adam!”
Joe's oldest brother, Adam, had been away attending college in Boston for nearly five years and though none of the three ranch workers had ever met him, they felt as though they had. His brothers talked about him all the time and had been known to share interesting items from his letters with anyone who would listen. Jim Dawson had several younger siblings himself and he appreciated the thoughtfulness of a brother who would think to send some of his letters home to a child. Though the contents were usually for the entire family, about one in three letters came addressed to either Little Joe or his brother Hoss. It was obvious how much Joe delighted in seeing his own name on the envelopes, for they were the only letters he ever got. His father understood the importance of the gesture as well, for Joe had proudly told the men that he got to read those letters first rather than just hand them over.
“Well, now, aren’t you gonna open ‘er up and see what he has to say?” Cole prompted, after watching the boy just stand there admiring the envelope for a few seconds.
Joe nodded and drew his letter out from the packet, carefully slitting the edge with the pocketknife Adam had sent him for his last birthday. He silently surveyed the contents for a moment, and then a look of utter shock froze his features. Quickly, his eyes scanned the page again and a huge grin broke out on his face. A joyful scream rose straight from his toes and all the way up as he threw his arms around Jim, nearly spinning him off his feet with the force of the hug. “He’s comin’ home, Jim! Cole, Danny, my brother Adam is comin’ home!” With that, the boy took off toward the house at a dead run, waving the paper and screaming the news loud enough to be heard clear back in Virginia City. Jim chuckled and rubbed his neck. Yes indeed, this was a right special kind of day.
The stagecoach jostled violently as it hit a chuckhole in the road and Adam Cartwright jerked himself into an upright position to avoid being unceremoniously dumped on the floor. He had been trying to doze and had slumped down in the seat, but it had been a long time since he’d ridden anywhere by coach, and he had forgotten just how much bodily abuse was involved. The effort had been worthless anyway. He would have had just as little success sleeping if the stage had been a padded buggy on rails. He was almost home and the combination of anticipation and anxiety he felt had his stomach tied in tight knots. His heart was fairly singing with the joy of being back in his own beloved Nevada territory, and the longing he felt to see his family again was overwhelming, but there was sadness present too. He had grown to love Boston. There was a kind of satisfaction in its ordered streets and civilized way of life that Adam had never found in the west, and he wondered apprehensively if he would be able to be truly happy away from it. He had his degree in engineering now, and though there was no specific degree program available for architecture, he had specialized his studies in that field and had graduated with honors two weeks before. Though he had gone after the degree intending to return to the Ponderosa and apply what he’d learned to the many facets of ranch life he would be wholly or partially in charge of, a niggling doubt ate at him. Suppose his newfound skills proved useless on the ranch and he wound up just an overeducated cowhand; somebody the other hands put up with just because he was the boss’s son and not for his own contributions. Adam did not think he would be able to stand that.
“Hey, wake up Cartwright!” The hand slapping his knee startled Adam out of his thoughts and he looked across the coach at the smiling face of his best friend, Paul Dwyer. “You’ve been pushing and cajoling me into making this visit for about five years now. Don’t tell me you’re too busy regretting it now to even show me the sights!”
Adam colored slightly, but could not take offense at the rebuke. Paul was right. They had been planning this journey together for a long time and he should not let a little misplaced melancholy destroy their fun. He smiled and studied his friend for a moment, remembering how easily Paul had started up a conversation with the shy newcomer from the west on their first day of class registration, and how grateful he had been that day to have someone to talk to. That companionship had quickly become a constant in his life and Adam cherished every day of it, knowing how easily he could have spent his entire college career just keeping to himself and never opening up to anyone at all. “I’m sorry, Paul. I guess seeing all this familiar landscape again had me lost in thought. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“That’s okay, pal, I’m sure I’d be the same way if I hadn’t been home in five years. You look all you want and don’t worry about me.” Paul gave him an understanding smile. “I’ll just have some of this lunch I picked up at the last way station.”
That comment drew an appreciative chuckle from Adam’s throat, dispelling the last of his somber mood. Though physically slight and rather childlike in his features, Paul’s appetite was a thing of legend among his peers. He still stood nearly a foot shorter than Adam, and still weighed just enough to keep him from floating away in the breeze, and his thin flyaway blonde hair still looked like an untidy haystack as he idly flipped his new hat on and off his head. He was twenty three, the same age as Adam, but he looked about seventeen, a fact he had used to his advantage more than once when his natural mischief and thirst for adventure had dragged both he and his conscience, as he called Adam, into hot water situations.
Paul had just finished his own higher education, emerging from it an ordained minister. It had been a considerable shock to everyone who knew wild, fun-loving, mischievous Paul, when he had boldly announced one day after class that he had decided to transfer to the seminary, but he had pursued his dream with the same energy and enthusiasm with which he did everything else. He and Adam had still managed to spend many of their weekends together, often on double dates with young ladies unable to resist Adam’s looks and Paul’s charm, which seemed to only increase when they considered the possibility of landing a would-be minister for a husband. This past year, it had been much harder to find free time so they had not seen each other much, but Paul had expressed interest in trying his new starched white collar out in his friend’s part of the world. They had agreed that when Adam went home, Paul would go with him. Adam wondered whether any prospective parishioners would be willing to trust care of their souls to a man who looked young enough to be their son.
“Do you think there’ll be much business for me out this way, Adam?” Paul asked, seeming to read his thoughts. “I sure don’t fancy the idea of going back home to Philadelphia and taking my father up on his offer to join the family business, but I’d hate to have all this schooling go to waste.”
Adam smiled. “Paul, I think you’ll have more business, as you call it, than you know what to do with before long. I know there’s a lot of folks out this way who’ll be excited beyond words with the prospect of having their very own local minister. I think they’re tired of getting married by Judge Mayfield or the circuit preacher, Reverend Wyatt.”
“What’s
wrong with him?” Paul asked curiously.
“Oh,
nothing much. Just that the man is
90 years old if he’s a day, and he can’t recall where he’s preaching half
the time. Pa wrote that he started
three marriage ceremonies last month with the words, ‘we are gathered here to
mourn the loss’. Frankly, I think
he’s beginning to make them a little nervous.”
“Did
you remember to write and tell your family when you’d be home, and that
you’d invited me along for the ride?” Paul
asked, suddenly changing the subject, which told Adam just how nervous he really
was over the prospect of beginning his new profession.
Paul could talk a subject into the ground, then dig it up and start all
over again, but when he got nervous he tended to bounce from topic to topic.
“You
know I did,” replied Adam calmly. “You
were right there in the room when I wrote to them and I specifically made sure
to tell them to have the spare room made up for you, because you’d be staying
with us a while.”
“Oh,
that’s right, you did. I
forgot,” he apologized. “I hope
your father doesn’t object. Your
brothers will probably want you all to themselves after all this time, too. Hope they don’t all see me as an interloper.”
Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Adam kicked his friend lightly on the shin. “Will you knock it off! I’ve told you about a thousand times that you’ll be welcome. As for Joe and Hoss, you’re just as likely to get adopted by them as cause any resentment. I don’t think those two have ever met anyone they consider a stranger in their entire lives. I’ll bet you five dollars that they squeeze your entire life story and a promise to go fishing out of you within 20 minutes of our arrival!”
Paul laughed. “I think you’re exaggerating just a might. I say they’ll be way too wrapped up in you to give me much notice for at least a day.”
Adam held out his hand and cocked an eyebrow. “Then take the bet. I know my little brothers.”
"I really shouldn't. Gambling is supposed to be kind of sinful, you know, especially for a minister," Paul reminded him. Then he grinned, obviously decided that minister or no, it wouldn't hurt to make a few easy dollars. He reached out and shook his friend's hand firmly. His eyes sparkled with fun as he said, “I can’t wait until we get there.”
Adam looked out the coach window. He could see the edge of the Sierras peeking up above the landscape if he craned his neck just right and his heart leaped at the sight. “Neither can I,” he breathed. “Neither can I!”
“Will you two please stop fidgeting? The stage will be here any minute!” barked Ben Cartwright, placing a firm hand atop Hoss’ knee to stop him from bouncing his heel up and down and shaking the entire bench upon which they sat waiting. He reached his other hand out and pulled Little Joe’s fingers away from the shiny brass buttons of his Sunday suit, which he was twisting around and around in nervous anticipation of Adam’s arrival.
“But Pa, that’s what you said when we first got here and it’s been ages!” protested Little Joe. “You don’t think it lost a wheel or got attacked by Indians or anything, do you?”
Ben quirked an eyebrow and pulled out his pocket watch, noting that his son sounded more excited than worried over his speculations. He held out the timepiece for Joe to look at. “Joseph, it’s only been fifteen minutes since we arrived. Much too early to start imagining things.”
“Yes, sir,” he mumbled. Then, suddenly, Joe jumped up and pointed to an approaching cloud of dust, shouting, “There it is, Pa!”
The stage rumbled slowly to a stop, more dust blooming through the still air around it as the driver pulled the reins and set the brake. He jumped down from his perch and placed the portable steps down in front of the door and opened it, helping out a woman and a little girl. The Cartwrights were all standing close, breathlessly waiting as a small wiry-looking blonde boy got out followed by the person they’d all been waiting for.
“Adam!” shouted Hoss excitedly; grabbing his arm and enveloping him in a bear hug before the startled young man could even speak.
Adam laughed and returned the hug, pounding Hoss on the back. “My gosh, boy, you’re a tree! What has Hop Sing been feeding you?”
“The question is when has Hop Sing been feeding him, and the answer is, always!” Joe piped up saucily as his brothers ended their embrace. Adam turned to look at him and his mouth dropped open. Joe grinned and flung his arms around his big brother. “Welcome home, Adam!”
“I don’t believe it!” Adam said, ruffling the curly brown hair, which seemed to be the only thing about Little Joe that had not changed in the last five years. “Where did my baby brother go?”
Joe beamed at the comment; pleased that Adam had noticed the change. “I guess he’s gone now, but you’ll get used to me pretty quick.” He laughed at his own joke and Adam laughed with him, delighted to hear that unique giggle again.
“Welcome back, boy.”
Adam
looked up at the sound of a deeply melodious voice and felt as if the air had
been removed from his lungs, pushed out by the enormous swelling of his heart as
he beheld the smiling face of his father. As
much as he had missed seeing his two little brothers over the years, it was this
man whose absence had been most keenly felt.
Adam moved slowly across the sidewalk, unable to find any words, but
knowing that his feelings were probably written all over his face.
He reached out, and took his father’s hand to shake it, touched that
his father had remembered how uncomfortable he had always been with public
displays of affection. They smiled
into each other’s eyes a moment, then Adam threw his natural reserve to the
winds and hugged with all his might. “Pa,”
he choked out. “It’s so good to
see you.”
Ben hugged back, surprised but incredibly touched. He held his boy close for a moment, then let him go. He tried to hide his emotion behind a sniffle and a gruff clearing of his throat as he gave Adam a hearty clap on the shoulder. “Well, Adam. Aren’t you planning on introducing us to your friend?”
Adam grinned as he looked over his shoulder and spotted Paul hanging back by the luggage, smiling broadly as he beheld the tender family moment. “Paul, come over here,” he ordered, ushering his friend into the curious circle of his family. “I’d like you to meet my brothers, Hoss and Little Joe, and my father, Ben Cartwright. Everyone, this is my friend whom I’ve written so much about over the years, Paul Dwyer. Or should I say, Reverend Dwyer.”
Ben smiled and shook hands, then Hoss did the same, nearly pumping Paul’s arm right out of its socket in his enthusiasm. “Howdy, Paul. Boy, I didn’t think we was ever gonna get to meet you face to face. Adam has written so much about you, I feel like I know you already. Ain’t your family upset that you chose to come out here instead of going back home now that you’re out of school?”
“Uh, well, they’re a little disappointed that I’ve chosen not to stay in Philadelphia, but they’ll get over it,” Paul stammered, a bit overwhelmed by the greeting.
“Adam says you’ve got two little sisters and a brother about my age, so I’m sure your folks will have plenty of help back home,” Little Joe added sagely. “You ever been this far to the west before?”
“Well, no, actually this is my first time away from the east at all,” Paul said, smiling at the boy’s bright grin. “I’ve always wanted to come, though.”
“Maybe we can take a ride around the Ponderosa tomorrow and I can help Adam show you the ranch!” Joe was bouncing up and down on his feet; his mind already filled with various destinations that Adam’s friend simply had to see. “Not that you could see it all in one day, but I can show you some of the best spots. We’ll figure out which horse you want to ride while you’re here and we can go anywhere you like.”
Paul chuckled. “Well, that sounds great, Little Joe, but I’m afraid I’ve never ridden a saddle horse before, so I might need a little help.”
Joe and Hoss looked at each other with incredulous glances. “You’ve never ridden a horse?” Hoss said with awe. Then he blushed as he remembered the profession his brother’s friend had chosen. “Oh, well, I guess maybe you wouldn’t have, being a preacher and all.”
Adam laughed. “It’s got nothing to do with that, Hoss. Lots of men of the cloth ride horses. Paul’s just a city boy, is all. He hasn’t had the change to spend much time out in the country.”
Little Joe giggled. “Golly, ain’t they got horses in the city? We’ll have to do something about teaching you how to ride right away. Everybody does out here!”
“Boys, boys,” Ben interrupted, deciding he’d better rescue this poor young man before he got roped into more than he could handle. “Lots of people in cities are more used to riding carriages than horses. It’s not as uncommon as you seem to think. If Paul wants to learn to ride, I’m sure you’ll both be of great help teaching him, but in the meantime I’m sure he and your brother are both tired from their long journey and we have plenty of time for sightseeing later.”
“Sorry, Pa,” they chorused. At Ben’s gesture, they moved to grab the luggage and load it into the back of the surrey. Joe clambered into the vehicle’s back seat, behind Adam and flanking Paul who sat with Hoss on his other side. As the surrey began to move towards the road leading to the Ponderosa, Joe could be heard saying, “Hey, Paul, I always thought ministers were supposed to be old. How come you decided to be one?”
“Well, if a minister is really lucky, Little Joe, he has what’s known as a calling. That’s a sure certain feeling deep inside his heart and mind that God exists and has chosen him to help spread the message of His love and teaching to other people. I found that calling one afternoon a few years ago. I was out on the grounds by myself, studying for an upcoming exam and daydreaming about a young lady I wanted to take to a dance. Then right out of nowhere, it hit me. Boom!” Paul shrugged with a slightly self-conscious smile. “I knew at that moment that I’d figured out what I was meant to do with my life, and there was no going back.”
“Wow,” Hoss commented, impressed. “Guess that’s like me wanting to take care of animals, and Joe wanting to be a bronc rider and spend his life around horses. We just knew, from the moment we first knew anything, that that’s what we was meant for.”
Paul looked thoughtfully at the young man, then nodded, pleased with the comparison. “That’s it exactly.”
Joe picked that moment to swing the conversation back to his original line of interest. “Speaking of horses, if you want to take a buggy instead of a horse tomorrow, I know a really great fishing spot we could still go to. You want to?”
Paul grinned and passed something up to Adam, who was half turned in his seat, watching the exchange with a gleeful expression. “Assuming I don’t go down in flames before the Virginia City congregation tomorrow morning, I’d love to, Little Joe.”
Adam looked down into his palm and faced forward, trying not to laugh. It was a five-dollar gold piece.
“…So then me and Jim braced them ropes on either side of the mother cow to keep her from thrashing around and hurting herself even more. The poor thing was in so much pain she didn’t know what she was doing, and I was scared to death she was gonna lash out and kick Little Joe in the head.”
“And you were in the bog with the cow?” Paul confirmed, eyes alight as he turned to Little Joe. “Why didn’t you just pull her out and then worry about the baby after she was on high ground again?”
“Well, we couldn’t, see,” Hoss explained, determined to finish telling the story before Joe could steal the spotlight. “Between her being stuck in that mud hole and having that calf suddenly decide it was time to be born, she was just in too much of a panic to do anything but resist. I was about to go in after her myself, but Jim said he needed my strength to help him hold her steady cause she kept churning herself deeper and deeper into that bog.”
“I could tell it wasn’t too deep for a person to wade in, so I jumped into the mud as soon as Jim and Hoss secured their lines. I tried pushing her out from the back while they pulled, but I could see the calf starting to poke out already. Problem is, he was coming out backwards and I didn’t know what to do,” Joe confessed.
Paul whistled. “So it was a breech birth. Did you get it turned around?”
Joe grimaced; looking a little nauseated at the memory and nodded his head. “Jim told me I had to help her and gave me directions on what to do. I had to stick my arms all the way up her…well, you know, and push the calf around so it’d come out head first.”
Hoss grinned and slapped his younger brother lightly on the leg. “He did a good job, too. For just a minute I thought sure he was gonna faint, but he held together. Got that baby out and safely up on the bank, then helped us heave that mama cow out too. Both of them were right as rain, but Joe was so tired I thought I’d have to carry him home. Poor little fella was covered so thick in mud, I couldn’t tell where he left off and the bog started!”
The family and Paul all laughed heartily when Joe scowled and poked Hoss in the ribs with his elbow. Soon Joe smiled a little, and said, “Pa said he was proud of me for doing such a good job, but he still made me go back to school the next day. Said I couldn’t miss out on my math test.” He tone clearly expressed the lack of fairness in his father’s decision, but he got no sympathy from his audience.
“Well, I’ve never delivered a calf, Little Joe,” Paul told him with a grin. “I have helped to deliver a human baby, though, and just between us I think I’d rather do the arithmetic.”
Joe returned his new friend’s impish expression with one of his own. “Just between us, I wouldn’t!”
“All right, young man,” Ben said, checking his watch with an indulgent smile. “In honor of your brother’s return, I’ve allowed you to stay up an hour past your bedtime already, but we’ve got church tomorrow and I don’t want you falling asleep in Reverend Dwyer’s face on his first day, so get on upstairs.”
“Come on, little buddy, I’ll tuck you in myself,” Adam offered, rising to his feet with a catlike stretch. He had missed their once-nightly ritual over the years and was looking forward to a few minutes alone with Joe.
“Okay,” he said agreeably. As he mounted the stairs, he turned back to Paul and said, “Preach about something interesting tomorrow, okay? I’ve been telling my friends about you coming and they’re all bringing their folks to take a look at you.”
“I’ll do my best,” Paul promised. He grinned over at Hoss and Ben as Adam shooed his little brother up the stairs. “No pressure there!” he laughed, shaking his head.
“I’m awful glad you’re back, Adam. I was starting to kind of worry that you might like Boston so much you’d never come home again.” Joe was lying on his bed atop the covers, rolled onto his stomach. He had put on his nightshirt and washed his face as he did each night, then flung his body onto the mattress with enough force to nearly jounce Adam right off onto the floor. He lay now with his pillow scrunched up high between his arms, chin resting upon it as he stared up at his brother, his lower legs swinging through the air behind him in a rhythmic response to the tune filtering out from Adam’s guitar. Adam had always played for him at night when he was younger and he had requested it now, needing to find some connection to a past that, for him, was growing distressingly dim. “I was thinking that maybe if you didn’t come back, I could make my way out east to see you, but Pa would’ve made me wait until I was grown up to go by myself.”
“Don’t you think Pa would’ve brought you before then?” Adam asked, eyes reflecting the warming he had felt in his heart at hearing his little brother’s words.
Joe’s face scrunched up in thought, and then he shrugged. “Maybe, but every year since you’ve been gone he’s talked about getting out to pay you a visit, then we never go because something always happens to keep Pa from leaving the ranch for too long. He really wanted to, though!” He tacked that last bit on hastily; fearing that Adam might misunderstand and think Pa had been making up reasons not to see him.
Adam understood perfectly and comforted him with a smile. “I know. He always told me that when he wrote to me, but I understood. I couldn’t come back here on vacations for the same reason. Never enough time.” He paused, dropping his eyes to his guitar and strumming quietly for a few seconds. “Joe, you didn’t really think I wouldn’t ever want to come home, did you?”
“I-I’m not sure,” the boy responded. “I used to lie awake sometimes and think about all the things you wrote about in your letters. About how much you liked learning how to build things and all the friends you had, and the places you went. You sounded really happy. Like maybe you liked all that stuff better than you did home.”
There was dismay and a hint of trepidation as Little Joe spoke, as though he feared that by reminding Adam of how much he had enjoyed his life in the east he might cause him to jump the next stage back to Boston. Concerned, Adam laid his guitar aside and wriggled around until he was lying face up on Joe’s bed, close to his side where he could look up into his face. As he stared into those eyes, seeing the way they looked at him with the same faith and trust they had so vividly expressed the last time Adam had seen them so many years ago, he found himself telling the truth where he had meant to tell a comforting fib. “Some parts of it I guess I did like better, Little Joe. Boston is an exciting city with lots of wonderful things that I’ll probably never find an equal to here at home.” He saw the sadness and disappointment shimmering like tears in Joe’s eyes and reached a hand up to lightly grip the back of his neck, giving him a smile. “But something was waiting for me back in Nevada that meant more to me than anything I ever found in the east.”
Joe breathed a little sigh and flashed his brother a grin, showing off the space left by his recently lost upper right canine tooth. “Thanks, Adam. I sure did miss you.”
“I
missed you, too, Joe; all of you. I
want to thank you for all the letters you sent me while I was away. I don’t you don’t like writing letters much, but they
always brought me home for a little while and I appreciated every single one.”
Little Joe flopped over to lie on his back, copying his brother’s position of having one arm curled behind his head and the other resting atop his stomach. “It was nothing. Writing to you wasn’t like writing to relatives to thank ‘em for birthday presents or whatever, like Pa makes me do. When I write to them I can never think of anything to say, but with you it was easy. I’d just ask Hoss what he wrote to you about, then give you my side. Usually I could think of other stuff after that and you usually asked me questions, so that helped.”
Adam smiled. “So you didn’t find my own letters too boring, then? I always wondered.”
With a laugh, Joe sat back up and looked at him. “They were fine as long as you weren’t droning on about being in love. Seems like every other letter for a while there was all full of mushy stuff!” He clasped his hands and fluttered his lashes. “Miss Cosgrove has eyes as blue as Lake Tahoe in springtime. Miss Daniels smiles, and it’s like the sun has broken through the clouds on a stormy day. Miss Harris is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. When we dance together, I feel…”
“Okay! Okay! Enough already!” Adam protested, smacking Joe with his own pillow. Joe grinned and flopped back down. “My God, I haven’t thought of Evelyn Daniels since my freshman year! What did you do, memorize every letter I ever sent home?”
“Uh huh,” Joe replied, surprising him. “Pa keeps them all in his desk, but I hated to ask him for them, so I’d just read them a few extra times when they first came. That’s why I was happy to find out Paul was such a nice person. I always thought he sounded like somebody I’d get along with, but when you said he’d become a minister I thought maybe you’d been making up some of the things you two did together. I’m glad you didn’t, Adam. I like him!”
“That’s good to hear,” Adam said happily. “I always thought he’d fit right in like one of the family, and I told him so, but I think both of us were relieved to find out that actually was the case.”
Joe was interested. “Is that why he gave you that gold piece? Did you two have a bet as to whether he’d like us or not?”
A hearty laugh rang out as Adam regarded his all-too-observant sibling. “You don’t miss a thing, do you? Actually, the bet was about whether you and Hoss would like Paul, not the other way around. I knew he’d like you. You two are like two peas in a pod as far as personality goes.”
“Yeah, he’s a great guy,” Joe agreed, making Adam grin. Joe sat up again, his face filled with awe. “And did you see how much he ate at supper? I’ve never seen anybody eat that much in one sitting before. Not even Hoss! Hop Sing was ready to adopt him.”
Adam could not longer control his mirth at this echoing of the thoughts he’d been having all evening long. He sat up, hugging his little brother. “I really have missed you, Joe. Now, I think it’s time you quit talking and settled down to sleep. Paul is going to need all the moral support he can get tomorrow morning, and like Pa said, we don’t need you falling asleep in church.” He stood up and turned back the covers while Joe said his prayers.
“Good night, Adam,” Joe said, smiling as he snuggled down between the sheets.
“Good night, little brother. You need me to leave the lamp burning for you?” Joe had always required some light to get to sleep in his younger days.
“No, I haven’t needed the lamp for a couple of years now,” Joe scoffed. Then, craning his head to make sure nobody was out in the hall that could overhear him, he whispered. “If I show you something, promise me you won’t tell anyone? Especially Pa?”
Curiosity aroused, Adam nodded solemnly, then watched as Joe leaned over the side of his bed, reaching underneath and rummaging until he came up with a familiar object. Adam drew a sharp breath. It was Joe’s old stuffed bear. “You still sleep with Bo?” Looking a little embarrassed, Joe nodded, then tucked the dilapidated toy under the corner of his pillow, where he could touch it but it would not show to the casual observer. “I remember when you sent him to me, Joe. Those few weeks he was with me meant a lot, just knowing you’d given him up so I wouldn’t be lonely.”
“I’m glad,” Joe said shyly. “It was hard to give him up, but somehow he became even more special to me when you sent him home again. I don’t know why.”
Adam's voice was warm. “I think I do. Good night, Joe. Sleep well.”
“You too, Adam. G’night.”
The population of Virginia City turned out in droves the following morning. It was a fine sunny Sunday, perfect for the debut of a new minister. The church, which had been newly constructed just a year ago, and was rarely more than a quarter full for the circuit preacher, was packed. Joe had not been exaggerating when he had said everyone was curious about Paul.
The moment the Cartwright buggy pulled into the front yard of the church, the family was pounced upon by at least a dozen people. Most used Adam’s return as their excuse to come over, exclaiming over him with surprise and pleasure and asking him about his schooling back east. A few of them actually made these inquiries with no ulterior motive, but most of the gathered crowd quickly attempted to interrogate Paul as Adam introduced his friend.
The minister made a quick exit, citing his need to make certain everything was ready inside and the moment he was gone the crowd melted away and the tongues began to wag. Adam was somewhat disgruntled at being used as a means to an end this way, but his father soon set him to rights.
“Don’t worry about it, son,” he said, his expression understanding. “They’re just eaten up with curiosity about Paul right now. I’m sure your real friends will wait until after church, then welcome you back properly.”
As he looked again at the departed townspeople, Adam realized that none of them were among those he or his father had ever counted as close friends, even before his departure. In fact, he did not even know a couple of them, and had assumed them to be acquaintances he had forgotten over five long years due to the familiarity of their greeting.
“I guess you’re right, Pa. I don’t see anybody I really know yet. I thought we must have arrived late because of all the people gathered by the door, but church isn’t even due to start for a half hour yet.” He shook his head, as he looked them over. “Man, what a crowd! No wonder Paul was so nervous this morning.”
“We’d best take our seats before somebody beats us to it,” Ben directed, herding Hoss and Little Joe before him as he and Adam neared the porch steps.
“Hey, Pa?” Little Joe was craning his neck around to look over the other churchgoers, hoping to spot some of his own friends, but so far all he saw were grown-ups.
Ben led him to the family’s usual pew and took a seat, then raised a questioning brow and muttered, ‘Hmm?’
Joe squirmed into his place on the hard bench and asked, “How come so many people are in church today? Is somebody getting married after the service?”
Hoss grinned and answered in his father’s place. “Nobody’s getting married, Little Joe. It’s just that after all the fuss they’ve been making about wanting a preacher in Virginia City, none of them folks would dare not show up on the first day, now that we got one. ‘Sides, I think they want something to gossip over at Sunday dinner tonight.”
“Oh,” Little Joe thought this over, tilting his head to listen to some of the whispers around him. Some folks were already criticizing the new minister for his youth and inexperience, sharing their initial impressions of him with those unfortunate enough to have gotten to church after he had done his disappearing act. Nobody seemed very willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and Joe was disappointed in them. He leaned over his father to whisper back to Hoss, “No wonder Paul looked like he was gonna throw up this morning! I sure hope he don’t do it up there in front of everybody!”
“Hush,” Ben hissed, pushing Joe back into his place with a warning look. He too hoped that nothing would happen to upset the young man’s first sermon, but there was no excuse for allowing his young son to show disrespect in church by speaking of such things.
Adam said nothing, though he agreed with Joe’s diagnosis of Paul. He was too busy praying that nothing would go wrong. He had his own doubts about Paul’s ability to perform his new job. He had never heard him preach, but the very idea of funny, flighty Paul Dwyer solemnly quoting the Good Book to a huge crowd of cowboys, miners and shopkeepers was enough to make him want to laugh.
A few minutes later, the excited babble of the congregation turned into absolute silence when Reverend Dwyer stepped from behind the curtained rear of the church and into full view.
“Why, that can’t be the preacher! He’s only a boy!” a woman’s voice whispered sharply. Someone quickly shushed her but Adam could see the effect her comment had had on his friend. Dressed in his simple black suit, the white collar of his office freshly starched and ironed, blonde hair reluctantly tamed to lie flat across his head from a side part, Paul looked neat and proper. Unfortunately, he also looked impossibly young. His thin face was pale; eyes wide and a little frightened as he faced the massive crowd, and the comment had created a visible flush in his cheeks that only accentuated his youth. Adam saw him, frozen in place, and knew he had to do something fast. He cleared his throat loudly, startling several people, but getting his desired result as Paul’s frightened gray eyes flicked over to meet his. Adam gave him an encouraging nod, brows knitting in concentration as he tried to get his silent message across. ‘You can do this. Don’t be scared. You can do this!’
Paul caught the look and tried to obey it. His gaze slid over to Adam’s father, who also gave him a nod, then to Hoss, whose bright smile was trying to reassure him that everything would work out fine. Finally, he looked at Little Joe. The boy seemed to be taking in everything that was happening around him and was frowning slightly as he heard the people around him beginning to mutter, grumbling about the new minister taking so long to begin his sermon. Joe leaned over and whispered something to his father, who gestured subtly up toward Paul and answered. Awareness dawning in his eyes, Joe looked straight up at his new friend and gave him a big grin. Looking first left then right to indicate the people around him, Joe shrugged casually, then held up his father’s Bible and pointed to it, then thumped his fist against his heart. Paul smiled suddenly, growing visibly calmer as he laid a hand over his own bible and began to speak in a clear, pleasant voice.
“Today, I’d like to introduce myself to you all by talking about a subject so simple that most of us forget how important it really is,” he began. “I’m talking about love. Unselfish, pure, nurturing love that can see us through any hardship if we only open ourselves up to believing in it. The love of our God for each and every one of us…”
~*~*~*~*~
An hour later, the church doors opened and people flooded out, all of them wearing various expressions of surprise and new respect. The talk was a complete contrast to what had come earlier. Those who had condemned Paul for his youth now spoke of him as proudly as if he were their own adopted son. The dedicated were breathing a sigh of relief and gratitude that they finally had a minister they could believe in and the curious were silently vowing to come again, to see if the follow-up was as good as the opening performance. Ben Cartwright and his two younger sons were glowing with pride and pleasure and Adam was dumbly astonished.
“Is something wrong, Adam?” Paul asked anxiously as he joined them. “Didn’t you like it?”
Adam placed his hands on the small man’s shoulders. “That was…I don’t know how to describe it, Paul. You were incredible! I know you’ve talked to me a little about your calling, but until today…I just had no idea. You really are doing what you were meant for and I’m sorry I ever teased you about it.”
Paul placed a hand atop Adam’s for a moment. Pleasure and deep emotion shown in his eyes and reflected in his voice as he said simply, “Thank you, my friend.”
“He’s right, you know,” Joe piped up. “That was the best sermon I ever heard. You weren’t boring at all, and you didn’t drag on and on forever either. Whenever Reverend Wyatt comes here, he talks in one long unending sentence; for hours, it seems like. Last time my legs both fell asleep before he quit and I couldn’t stand up when it was time for the singing.”
Ben placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder to silence him, giving him a reprimanding look that stilled his criticism of Rev. Wyatt instantly. Privately, though, he agreed with the boy! “A fine sermon, Reverend,” he said, shaking the young man’s hand. “Now I’m even more glad you decided to come out west with my son.”
Paul smiled warmly. “Thank you, sir. I’m not sure I ever would have gotten started without all of you, though, especially Little Joe. He managed to snap me out of my stage fright and remind me why I was up there.”
Joe puffed up proudly and Hoss hugged him around the neck with one arm as he too, shook Paul’s hand. “I’m sure glad you remembered, Reverend. That was some mighty fine preachin’. I’ll bet that sermon must’ve worked up quite an appetite, too, didn’t it?”
Paul perked right up at the suggestion of food and he and Hoss eagerly led the way to the Cartwright buggy, leaving the other three in a cloud of dust behind them.
Several people stopped Paul to congratulate him again on his sermon before he left, and it was obvious that Virginia City was wholly satisfied with its new minister.
Chapter 7
The next several weeks passed by in a series of long, lazy, perfect summer days. Paul Dwyer continued to fit in at the Ponderosa as if he'd been born there, and for Adam it was the homecoming he'd long dreamed of. His old friends had come calling one by one, quickly drawing him back into his old life, while at the same time treating him with a new and very satisfying respect. Every time he went to town, some new person stopped him to express their pride in his accomplishment, or to ask when he'd be making something that they could all point to as having been built by their own native son. In response, Adam had assigned himself an opening project. That of designing and building a house for his friend, next to the church in town. Paul had been delighted, and had happily agreed to stay on at the ranch until its completion. Every Sunday morning he and the Cartwright family drove into town together, where the young minister continued to impress the citizens of Virginia City.
Ben and Hoss were both thoroughly caught up in the pleasure of having their oldest son and brother home at last, and Adam often felt as though he were a sponge, happily soaking in the long denied nourishment of his father's presence. As they rode, worked and talked together, their conversations seemed to have no end, and each found deep satisfaction in the other's company.
Talking to Hoss was like picking up a conversation right where you'd left off, but with the added flavor and interest of the maturity that separation had brought to each of them. Hoss would never be a sophisticate, but he had a unique way of looking at almost everything that his brother found as refreshing as a drink of cold spring water on a hot day
Adam and Little Joe did not have much time to spend alone together. Joe was busy keeping his promise to teach Paul to ride a horse, and much of the rest of his time was taken up with swimming, picnics, fishing and enjoying the pleasant summer afternoons. Hoss worked the ranch on a regular basis now, but he often found the time to join his little brother and their new friend for a few hours of play, and Adam often went along as well. He and his college roommate regaled the two younger Cartwrights with story after story of the things they had done together, and the fun they'd had. Adam would have preferred to keep some of those stories under wraps, but a mischievous wink and grin from Paul and a little coaxing from his brothers and Adam would find himself telling them anyway.
It was not until Paul's manse was finished and his visit ended with the summer that the homecoming began to seem anything less than idyllic for anyone.
~*~*~*~*~
Reverend Dwyer hummed a little tune as he swept off the front steps of the church, his final task of the morning as he prepared for the arrival of his congregation in an hour's time. He was the sort of person who liked to be prepared early; his friends all claimed it was so he would have time to horse around before getting down to business, but in reality it simply gave him pleasure to know that everything was neat and ready.
Walking down the front steps, Paul took a long look at his little church and smiled. It was hard to believe that nearly four months had gone by since he had first seen it. He shook his head, remembering how scared and unsure of himself he had felt then. For the first six or seven sermons, he had felt as if he was taking an oral exam in front of a very large and condemning school board, but finally he had relaxed. They liked him here, and he liked them.
"It needs paint," a voice commented casually behind the minister.
Paul turned around and smiled at the speaker, having recognized his voice at once. "Good morning, Little Joe. What brings you into town so early this morning? Come to make sure I'm not planning to preach about anything boring?"
Little Joe grinned and shook his head. A special friendship had sprung up between Adam Cartwright's best friend and his little brother after that first Sunday, and ever since Paul had moved into his new residence in town, Joe had been making periodic visits. "No, I trust you."
The minister laughed. "Well, that's good. So, if it wasn't the quality of the sermon, what are you doing here so early?"
The smile faltered, then faded from Little Joe's face. He suddenly looked very unsure of himself, shuffling from one foot to the other, and biting his lip.
Paul had developed enough of an instinct toward people by this time to recognize a silent plea for help when he saw one. Without a word, he put an arm around the boy's shoulders and led him inside and up to one of the front pews.
"What's troubling you, Joe? Is it Adam?" Joe looked up with startled eyes at the question, then ducked his head and nodded. Paul smiled a little. It had not escaped his notice that there was a great deal of tension between his two friends lately, and he had been half expecting a visit. He had thought the visitor would be Joe's oldest brother, though.
"Adam doesn't know I'm here," Joe told him quietly. "I told Pa I needed to come to town early because you wanted some help getting this place ready. I know I shouldn't have fibbed, especially about church, but I wanted to talk to you alone and they would have wanted to know why I needed to see you."
"Sounds important. I'll tell you what, Little Joe. Why don't you help me lay out the hymnals in all the pews, then you won't have lied to your Pa." Little Joe grinned and readily agreed. They spent a few short minutes doing the job, then Paul asked, "So, why don't you want to talk to your Pa about what's troubling you? I had the impression that Mr. Cartwright was the sort of father a child could talk to about almost anything."
The boy colored slightly. "He is, mostly. Only I'm not sure if I can talk to him about this. You've seen how he is. Ever since Adam came home, Pa has been really happy. He talks all the time about how the family is complete now, and how good it is to have my brother home, and about all the things Adam has done, and will do, and such. He doesn't like it when I don't get along so well with Adam, and, well you see, I just can't talk to Pa about this."
"I think I understand. Tell me, Joe, why aren't you getting along? You two certainly seemed happy to be together when he and I first got here. What's changed?"
Little Joe heaved a sad sigh. "I'm not sure. It was great at first. Adam was so much like I remembered him. He kind of looked different, but inside he was still the same. Lately, though, he seems to think he's Pa or something. Every time I turn around he's giving me orders, and sniping at me for the way I do things, and disapproving of time I spend with my friends, and running to Pa every time I do something he doesn't like, and…"
Paul held up a hand to stop him. "I get the picture. You feel that he won't allow you any freedom, and he feels that you're allowed too much freedom. Is that about the size of it?"
Joe looked surprised, then nodded vehemently. "See, I knew you would understand!"
"Well, I do have siblings of my own," Paul reminded him. "Plus, I've known your brother for a long time now, and I know how he sometimes gets, believing that he can find a better way to do most things than the way they're already being done."
"Yeah, except it's only better if he's the one doing it," Joe grumped, crossing his arms over his chest sulkily. "He acts like I'm too much of a baby to know how to do anything by myself. Do you know that he threatened to fire Jim yesterday for letting me help out with the horse breaking? Jim has been with us a long time, and I always help him. Adam had no right to say anything! I told him that, and he said he'd just see what Pa had to say about it."
"And what did he say?" the minister asked mildly.
"Same thing I did! That I'd asked him and he said I could. Pa told Adam that Jim was one of our most trusted hands and that I wasn't going to get into any trouble with him around," Joe answered, sounding slightly miffed at the unspoken implication that he would get in trouble if not supervised by an adult.
Paul hid a smile, knowing that Joe would likely interpret it badly if he were to see it. "So, did Adam back down?" He felt sure of the answer, knowing Adam to be a fair man, but wanted the boy to say realize that by saying it out loud.
Little Joe was too caught up in his own indignation to recognize the minister's intent. "Yeah, but why couldn't he have just believed me when I told him? He didn't even bother to ask if I'd gotten Pa's permission or not, he just assumed I hadn't, and started yelling about it being too dangerous for a kid my age to be up on a horse that wasn't completely broken in yet. When Pa told him, Adam sort of apologized to Jim, but all I got was a lecture on safety and responsibility that was twice as long as the one Pa had already given me. Course I got mad and said a couple of things I shouldn't have said in front of Pa, and Pa got mad at me and restricted me from finishing with the horse-breaking job as punishment. You should've seen that dumb ol' Adam gloating away at dinner last night. I hate him."
"No, you don't," Paul said gently. He had decided not to interrupt the torrent of hurt, knowing that it was better for the boy to get his feelings off his chest, but now it was time to step in. "You're angry with him for being high-handed, and for what you feel is him butting in on how your Pa is raising you. Unless I miss my guess, you're also resenting him for taking some of your father's attention away from you."
Joe shrugged as his friend raised an inquiring eyebrow in his direction. The gently persuasive eyes of the minister finally forced him to answer. "Yeah, I guess, a little, though I wouldn't have minded if Pa had paid a little less attention to me after dinner last night."
Paul's lips twitched, picking up the unspoken implication. "You must have really said something interesting to Adam," he commented. "Use a few words you shouldn't have?"
Little Joe shrugged again, but nodded a little sheepishly. He was not about to tell his friend what he had said, especially not while sitting in a church pew! He continued to pout for a moment, then relented and let his tense posture relax some. He heaved a regretful little sigh. "One thing's for sure. Pa seems a lot more interested in what Adam has to say these days, than in anything Hoss and I have to say."
"I don't think that's true," Paul told him, smiling when Joe fixed disbelieving eyes on his face. "After all, he did take your part over Adam's when he knew you were in the right yesterday, didn't he?"
"I guess he did," Joe admitted reluctantly. "Lately, though, every time I start talking to him about something, the conversation somehow twists around to Adam, and the next thing I know, I’m not even in it any more."
"Don't be too hard on him, Little Joe," the minister advised. "I think right now your father is just excited to have all of his sons back together again. He might be overdoing things a bit, trying to show Adam how much he likes having him home, but that doesn't mean he values you and Hoss any less."
Little Joe sighed. "Guess that means there's nothing I can do until Pa gets used to Adam being back then, huh?"
"Just give him a little time," Paul suggested.
"But it's been months already!" the boy protested.
The minister smiled sympathetically. He could still remember how much differently time moved for a child. While Adam's return was still a new and refreshing change for his father, and perhaps for Hoss, it would seem as though ages had passed to someone Joe's age. "All I can really advise is to get your father alone, Little Joe. Tell him some of what you've told me. I'll bet Mr. Cartwright doesn't have any idea you're feeling so left out of things."
Little Joe scrunched his face up this way and that as he considered it. "You really think so?"
Paul nodded. "I really do."
A few seconds ticked by, then Joe asked, "What about Adam? Why has he turned into such a fussy ol' nag since he came home?"
Young Reverend Dwyer prided himself on his ability to maintain a straight face no matter what his parishioners might choose to say to him, but at Joe's disgusted question he burst into a hearty peal of laughter. "He is, kind of, isn't he?"
Joe laughed as well. "He sure is. He can't just let anything be."
Paul grinned. "That sounds like the Adam Cartwright I know, all right. Little Joe, there's something I want you to consider, if you can."
"Okay," the boy said willingly.
"Have you ever stopped to think that it might not be Adam who's really changed? Oh, I'm sure he's grown and matured a great deal since you saw him last, but he was already pretty well grown up before he ever left for college, wasn't he?"
Joe nodded. Adam had always seemed grown-up to him.
The minister tapped a finger softly against the boy's breastbone. "You, on the other hand, were only six or seven when he left. He came back home to find an independent young boy of almost twelve where he had left a small child."
"I guess that is kind of a lot of difference, huh?" Joe said thoughtfully.
Paul nodded, smiling a bit when he saw that his young friend was already starting to consider the matter beyond his own point of view. It was one of the characteristics that he found most likable in all three of the Cartwright brothers. "Adam showed me some of your letters, Joe. He was so proud of you every time you learned to do something new, or told him all about some adventure you'd had, or asked him for advice on something. By the time I finally met you, I had a really clear picture in mind of what you'd be like, and you were almost exactly what I'd pictured, but it's not the same for Adam."
"Why not?" Little Joe was intrigued, and it did not bother him at all that Paul had seen his letters. It made him feel as though he had written to his new friend as well as his brother.
"Because I had nothing to compare the letters to," the minister explained. "For me, they were the first introduction I had to you, and so my first impression was of a spunky, independent minded little boy who could be both fun and something of a handful." Joe laughed at the description, knowing it was pretty accurate. Paul continued. "Adam knew those things too, but unlike me, he also had memories of a baby, and a toddler, and a small child who'd needed him, and whom he had protected during a time of great sadness in both your lives."
Joe's chin dropped toward his chest. "You mean, when my mother died?"
"That's right. He's told me how he took care of you almost single-handedly for a while, and how you had clung to him for a long time afterward," Paul said gently. "It's hard for him to reconcile that memory with the boy you are today. It's been five years and you've learned how to live without him, Joe. Adam loves you more than you can possibly imagine, and the thought that you might get hurt on one of those horses you love so much, or worse yet, that you really might be able to get along just fine without him are terrible for him."
Little Joe had grown very still. He had never considered that Adam might be scared that he'd get hurt on one of the horses. Joe knew what he was doing, and was sure enough of his own abilities that the idea of someone doubting him had been insulting. Maybe Adam didn't know him well enough any more to recognize those abilities. Maybe for him, seeing Joe on a half-wild horse only caused memories of Joe's mother, Adam's step-mother, Marie, who had died after being thrown from an untrained horse. "You really think he's worried that I don't want him around?" he asked, keeping his deeper thoughts to himself.
"I think it's a possibility," Paul told him. "You don't really feel that way, do you, Joe?"
"Of course not," the boy objected. "I just wish he'd quit picking on me all the time! If anybody else bothered me as often as Adam does, Hoss would've pounded him for me by now, but he can't do that to his own brother. Poor Hoss goes out working with Adam every day, so he probably doesn't know whose side to take."
Paul patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure you're right. Being in the middle is probably hard on him, but very natural as well. Hoss is not only the middle brother, he's one of those lucky people who has the gift for being able to get along with most anyone."
"Like you," Joe observed, his smile making a blazing comeback.
Paul smiled back. "I suppose so. Some people have to work at it a little harder, but that makes the successes all the more worthwhile, don't you think?" Joe nodded agreeably. "Talk to your Pa, Joe. Tell him how you feel about all this. If you do that, I'll talk to Adam, and maybe we can smooth things over a little for both of you."
Little Joe held his hand out to shake. "Thanks, Paul."
The minister smiled and shook hands. "Why don't you go outside and wait for your family to arrive. I've got to get my sermon in order and there's no point in you sitting around for an extra half hour waiting on me."
"Sure," the boy agreed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he rose and walked out of the small church.
Chapter 8
"Good service today, Reverend," Ben said, smiling as he shook the young minister's hand. As usual, the Cartwrights had hung back long enough to let the other churchgoers file out before they came to speak to Paul. Unlike some of the families who lived closer to town, they were not able to make it in every week now that they were no longer responsible for ferrying Paul to and from Virginia City. On the Sundays they did come, they always stopped to have a few words with their friend, usually inviting him to come back to the Ponderosa with them afterward for lunch.
"Thank you, Mr. Cartwright. I realize that the story of the Prodigal Son is not the text I had posted for today, but I decided to make a last minute change after speaking with a member of the congregation." Paul glanced down toward Ben's left side. "What did you think of it, Joe?"
Little Joe grinned at him. "I'm not sure. Either you were telling me I should appreciate having Adam back, or warning me that Adam and Hoss have figured out an easy way to get more of Pa's attention."
The men laughed and Ben gave his impudent young son a squeeze around the shoulders. "Now, son, you're taking the sermon much too literally, but I'm glad to know you were at least paying attention."
"Yes, sir, I sure was," Joe assured him.
The boy hesitated when he noticed Paul giving him a wink as he drew Adam and said, "Adam, mind if I have a word with you?"
Adam looked surprised. "Sure, we'll just be a few minutes, Pa."
Little Joe licked his lips. "Hey, Pa, do you think we could go someplace too? It'll only take a little while, but there's something I kind of want to talk to you about, just you and me."
Ben opened his mouth to object that it could wait until later, then stopped, remembering that Joe had asked to come in early this morning to see Paul. As he watched his oldest son follow the young clergyman up to the front end of the church, and noticed Joe watching them too, a hopeful expression on his young face, Ben realized that Joe's sudden desire for a private chat might well be connected. He turned to Hoss. "Is that all right with you?"
Hoss smiled, curious but unwilling to pry, particularly since he suspected he knew what Joe wanted to talk to their father about. "Sure, Pa. Why don't I go on over to the café and have something to eat. Y'all can just meet me over there when you're ready."
"That sounds fine, son. Thank you." Ben gave him a smile as he patted him on the back. Good old Hoss; sometimes he didn't appreciate that thoughtful young man near enough, he reflected.
There was a set of shaded benches taking up the small space between Paul's home and the church. Father and son walked over to one of them and sat down facing each other. Little Joe looked nervous but very determined, and Ben smiled as said, "What did you want to talk to me about?"
~*~*~*~*~
Inside the church, Adam Cartwright was asking that very same question. "What did you want to talk to me about, Paul?" The young minister loosened his tight white collar and brushed a hand back through his straight blonde hair, effectively ruining its neatly combed appearance. In one second he went from looking like a dignified young man of the cloth, to looking like a rumpled teenager, and Adam could not help grinning at the change. There was a very serious look in Paul's gray eyes as he contemplated his friend, and it instantly swept away the quip Adam was about to make. "Is something wrong?" he asked instead.
Paul considered his answer for a moment, then said, "Potentially."
Adam looked confused. "What?"
"Adam, I'm not sure quite sure if I should be speaking to you as your friend, or as Reverend Dwyer," the minister said, "but I'd like to talk to you about Little Joe."
An expression of irritation instantly sprang across Adam's handsome face. "I might've known. What's the little scamp been up to? Whatever it is, I apologize, and as soon as I get my hands on Joe, I'll see to it that he does too."
"What makes you think he's been doing something he shouldn't?" Paul asked curiously.
Adam demanded, "Well, hasn't he? Isn't that what you just said?"
"No, it isn't, and he hasn't done anything wrong. All I said was that I wanted to talk to you about him, and you instantly jumped to the conclusion that he was in some kind of trouble."
"Oh." Adam looked confused and a little embarrassed by his mistake, wondering what had caused him to automatically take such a belligerent attitude at the mention of his young brother's name. "I guess that was kind of unfair, wasn't it?"
"Just a little," Paul agreed. He ushered the other man into the very same pew where he and Little Joe had enjoyed their earlier discussion. "You know, Adam, I've been meaning to have this conversation with you for a couple of weeks now, but until Joe came in this morning I couldn't decide whether it was any of my business that you two are having problems."
Caught completely off-guard by his friend's directness, and the implication of his words, Adam sat back against the hard wooden back of the pew and slumped. "Are you trying to tell me that my brother came to talk to you in your official capacity?"
Paul nodded. "More or less. I think he came to me more because I'm a close friend, yet not part of the family than because I'm a minister, though. He didn't feel comfortable talking about you to your father, and confronting you directly wasn't an option either."
"So he asked you to intervene," Adam concluded. He grimaced, glancing back over his shoulder to where his family had just departed. "I don't know what to tell you, Paul. I know I painted kind of a rosy picture of my relationship with Little Joe, but I honestly expected things to be like that, just like they used to be. And they were, at first, you saw that!"
Paul smiled; agreeing that his first few weeks spent around Adam's family had indeed been conflict-free.
Adam slapped his hat down beside him and ran a hand through his hair disgustedly. "I don't know what's wrong with him, lately. Every time I try to talk to him, Joe gets so willful and angry. Seems like no matter what we start talking about, we end up fighting, so we don't talk much at all. Frankly, I can't figure it out. He never seemed to have any problem talking to me in his letters."
"True, but you weren't right there with him, putting your own perspective into every event in his life either. All you had to go on was what you read," Paul pointed out. "Maybe it was easier to talk to you from a distance."
"Maybe," Adam grunted.
Paul slouched against the bench beside his friend, folding his arms across his chest as he observed the stormy expression on his face. "He didn't quite say so when we spoke this morning, but I got the distinct impression that your little brother is unsure how to act around you right now. He seems to think that no matter what he does, you'll find some reason to disapprove of it and come down on him for it."
"Oh, please," Adam dismissed the idea in disgust "Maybe I'm a little strict with him sometimes, when he's pulling some crazy stunt that could get him into trouble, but it's for his own good. That kid gets away with more things than I would have ever dreamed of trying. Somebody has to keep after him, or who knows what kind of foolish things he'd do!"
Paul shrugged his shoulders, and nodded as though agreeing with every word. "Right. Sliding down the banisters, doing tricks on horseback to impress his friends, that sort of thing?" Adam was nodding in agreement, pleased that his friend seemed to understand. Then his face fell when Paul continued, "Carving his initials on the leg of his father's desk with a pocket-knife he wasn't supposed to have, jumping out of the loft onto a rope suspended from the support beams, getting lost in the woods hunting for game after being told to stick by the house..."
He paused, smirking a bit at the look on Adam's face.
Anger reddened Adam's cheeks. "I suppose you think that's funny?"
Paul grinned, and nudged him in the ribs with a bony elbow. "Sure, just like I did when you first told me those stories of your misspent youth." He sat up straight to meet his friend's eyes. "Adam, haven't I always told you that your biggest problem is that you don't know how to loosen up and not view everything as life-and-death?"
Adam nodded, smiling reluctantly. "You've tried to tell me that a time or two, I guess."
"Then listen to me now, and don't take everything your brother does so seriously!" He laughed. "You know, my folks are always writing to me about some hair-brained thing my younger brother and sisters have done, so I know how you feel. I write back with suggestions, and when I'm home I do my best to try and steer the kids away from doing anything really dangerous. I worry sometimes, but I know they're bound to get into some kind of trouble no matter what I do. Every kid does, and you know it. You did, I did, and Little Joe will for some time yet. You can't stop him from being a kid, Adam, and frankly I don't think you really want to."
Adam sighed. "No, I suppose I don't. I want him to have as good a childhood as he possibly can, but I want him alive to see his adulthood too. Sometimes the things he wants to do are so dangerous!"
"Like helping the men out in the horse corral?" Paul suggested.
Adam shot him an irritated look, which his friend met with a raised eyebrow. "All right. I admit I overreacted to that, and I shouldn't have threatened to fire Jim without making sure he was just following Pa's order. I apologized for it."
"Did you apologize to your brother for assuming he was lying when he told you he had permission to be out there?" Paul's tone was flat, not accusing, but not affording his friend any undue sympathy either.
"No," Adam admitted grudgingly. "I suppose I should."
"It could go a long way towards softening the resentment he's probably feeling toward you. Especially since he wasn't doing anything wrong." Adam gave a noncommittal shrug, and Paul decided to try another tack. He let a few seconds drift by as he settled back into his comfortable slouch, allowing Adam to relax a bit, then said casually, "He's really an excellent rider, you know. I may be new to riding myself, but I've seen enough exhibitions to know skill when I see it. You've told me that your brother tends to be reckless and impatient, and I've seen some of that, but when he was teaching me to ride he was both patient and knowledgeable. I asked your father about it, and he told me what a natural Joe is, and how he's unusually good at gentling horses. The only reason he doesn't break them yet is his size."
Adam was a little surprised at what he was hearing. "I know he's a good rider, Paul. I'm not denying it, but we're talking about a lot more than just being a skilled rider in open territory. These mustangs are excitable, stubborn, wild creatures. It takes a firm hand to control them, but if you want them to be both tame and reliable, yet not lose their spirits you've got to have the patience and instinct for knowing when to push them into obedience, and when to let them have their own way."
"Well, if understanding is a key then it seems to me that Joe is ideal for the job," the minister said with some amusement, "because you just described your little brother perfectly. Only in the case of your particular wild mustang, I think he's going to need a lot of love and gentling too, not just a firm hand."
Once again, Adam was left with nothing to say; caught off guard as he realized how neatly Paul had turned his own words around to show him what he'd been missing. "You know, I hate it when you do that."
Paul's eyes twinkled. "I know. That's what makes being your friend so much fun."
Adam laughed and punched him in the arm.
"You mind if I offer you a little friendly advice?"
"If I say no, will it stop you?" Adam asked dryly.
His friend grinned brightly. "Probably not."
"Offer away, then," Adam said. "As long as we're clear that I don't promise to take it."
Paul inclined his head. "Fair enough. I just want to encourage you to think about Little Joe's feelings in all this. For almost half his life you've been the long-distance relative who sent letters home once a month. The big brother who had been there for him as a little kid, then disappeared into a faceless world he couldn't follow you to."
"You make it sound like I abandoned him," Adam objected. "Like he doesn't remember me."
"He does remember you, but he doesn't quite know you anymore," the other man countered. "You probably don't fit the memories of a seven-year-old kid. He remembers you as the big brother that read him stories, and sang him songs, rescued him from bad dreams and helped him with his homework. After you left, you became the person who wrote him funny stories and advice, and sent him great presents every birthday and Christmas. Now that you're back, from Joe's perspective, all you do is order him around and get him into trouble with his father, usually over things Little Joe doesn't consider to be all that important. The real you probably doesn't quite fit the fairy tale picture he'd built up in his mind, and he resents you for it."
"I suppose that's probably true," Adam admitted, sighing softly. "I know it was a shock to me to see how much he'd changed in five years, how much more confident and independent he'd become. Guess I have overreacted some, but I'm not about to just let him run wild and not say anything. He may not like it, but it's my job to look out for him."
"I agree," Paul said, his even tone calming the other man. "That's part of being a big brother. I'm just suggesting that you might be taking it a little far sometimes. Let him get used to you again, Adam, and let yourself get used to him. Your father has done a pretty fair job raising you guys so far, and you should trust the way he's handled Little Joe. I advised Joe to talk to your father about all this, and you might want to think about doing the same."
Adam still looked a bit doubtful, but his friend seemed very sure of himself. "You really think that's all this is, Paul? Just a matter of putting each other into proper perspective?"
The minister shook his head. "Not all, but it's certainly a start."
Adam rose from the pew as he put his hat back on his head. "I'll try."
Paul smiled. "That's all anyone can ask, my friend. Now, you'd better get outside before your family thinks you've decided to move in here."
An answering smile tilted Adam's mouth, causing the hidden dimple in the left corner to show. "You still coming back to the Ponderosa to have lunch with us? Hop Sing was frying chicken and baking a cake when we left."
The minister grinned and grabbed his hat and jacket from behind the pulpit, straightening his clerical collar as he hurried to join his friend. He had done what he'd promised Little Joe. Now the rest was up to the two brothers.
Chapter 9
Blue white smoke curled lazily on the soft early fall breeze, drifting from the fragrant pipe clutched in Ben Cartwright's hand. He watched it billow and spread upward into small wisps which slowly disappeared into nothingness at the edge of the porch, where the light from the house behind him extended to shake hands with the night. Stars brightly sparkled overhead, and the man sighed softly, both admiring their beauty and wishing they could offer some guidance to a troubled heart.
"It sure is a pretty night, ain't it, Pa?"
Ben turned away from his contemplation of the heavens to smile at the young man walking toward him from the barn, where he had just finished settling the animals in. "It sure is, son. It won't be long now before it'll be too cold to stand out here stargazing, so I figured I'd better do it while I can."
Hoss nodded, giving the diamond-like constellations an admiring glance. "Sorta makes a fella feel like his troubles don't amount to much when he sees a sight like