The brilliant sun stood almost directly above the cottonwoods along the Carson.   The trees spread their limbs wide, dark leaves creating broad circles of shade, as the newlyweds rolled eastward in the buckboard.  Ben turned to his bride with a wide grin.  “That’s the Thomas place just ahead,” he announced.  “That’s where the boys are.”

    “So close?” Marie shrieked.  “Oh, Ben, stop, please!”

    Ben reined in the horses.  “Whatever for?  I thought you couldn’t wait to meet your new sons.”

    “I can wait until I wash the dust from my face,” Marie sputtered, scrambling down from the wagon without waiting for assistance.  “I am covered with it, Ben!”

    “All right,” Ben laughed.  “Just don’t fall in the drink, Mrs. Cartwright.  That won’t add a thing to their first impression of you.”

    Marie cast him a reproachful look and scurried to the river’s edge to dabble her handkerchief in the water and wipe her face.  Ben walked up behind her and turned her around.  “You look beautiful,” he said, planting a kiss on her freshly washed cheek.

    “How can you say that?” Marie fretted, brushing the skirt of her green traveling suit.  “Look at me!”

    Ben laughed.  “No one here will be bothered by a bit of dust.  We’re used to it.”

    Marie smiled.  “It is just, as you say, that I wish to make a good first impression.”

    “You will,” Ben assured her.  Putting an arm around her waist he led her back to the wagon and helped her to the seat.

    In the packed dirt of the cabin’s yard, four youngsters were at play.  Billy and Adam, for all their pretensions of manhood, were taking a turn at the seesaw that Sunday morning, while Hoss and Inger played toss-and-fetch with Klamath.

    Sharp-eyed Billy was, as usual, the first to spot the approach of visitors.  “Reckon who that could be?” he asked.

    Hoss, a little closer than the older boys, stood still, stick in hand, and squinted at the approaching wagon.  The stick fell to the ground.  “It’s Pa,” he hollered and took off.

    “Can’t be,” Adam scoffed.  “There’s a lady with that gent.”

    “Sure is,” Billy agreed, “but that’s your pa, sure as the world.  Come on!”  He hit the ground running, leaving Adam to pick himself up off the ground at his end of the seesaw.  Billy charged up to the cabin door.  “Hey, Ma!” he yelled.  “Uncle Ben’s back, and he’s got a lady with him.”

    Nelly wiped her floured hands on her apron and came to the doorway.  “Lands, who can that be?” she asked, shading her brown eyes with her palm.  She stepped into the yard, Clyde joining her as the wagon, with Hoss running at its side, pulled up.

    Ben sprang down and wrapped the chunky youngster in his arms.  “How’s Pa’s big boy?” he cried.

    Before Hoss could answer, Adam had thrown himself at his father, too, and for all three Cartwrights actions made words unnecessary.  The fourth Cartwright sat on the wagon seat, thirstily drinking in her first view of her new sons, until she became aware of the ocean of eyes staring at her.  Her cheeks reddened under the scrutiny.

    “Did you bring me something, Pa?” Hoss, the only one oblivious to the newcomer, demanded.

    “Hoss!” Adam scolded, cheeks flaming.  “That’s a fine thing to let fly out of your mouth first thing!”  Seeing all the boxes and bundles in the back of the buckboard, he was wondering the same thing himself, of course, but it was ill-mannered to ask for presents straight off.

    Hoss looked chagrined, but Ben just rumpled his sandy hair and laughed.  “Yes, I brought surprises for both my boys,” he said, “but you can’t have yours ‘til after dinner.

    “Candy!” Hoss squealed.

    “That’s right,” Ben chuckled.  “Bonbons for you and books for Adam.”  He smiled back at the lady blushing on the wagon.  “And I brought an even more special surprise,” he announced, offering her his hand to descend from the wagon.  When Marie stood at his side, Ben said, “Clyde, Nelly, children——I’d like you to meet Marie DelVyre D’Marigny—”  He intended to add Cartwright, but Nelly cut him off.

    “Jean’s wife!” Nelly cried.  “That’s who you are!”

    “Well, yes, I was.”  Marie sent Ben a mute appeal for help, but Ben just folded his arms, obviously finding sport in letting the misconception play itself out.

    “Yes, dear,” Nelly was saying sympathetically, assuming Marie had used the past tense because Jean was now dead.  “You’ve suffered a terrible loss, and you must be tired, too, after your long trip.  You come right inside and refresh yourself.”  She led Marie to the rocking chair by the fire in the parlor.  “There now, you just rest.  I’ve got dinner started, but I’ll hurry it along.”

    “Oh, please, may I help?” Marie asked, starting to rise.

    Nelly pushed her gently back into the rocker.  “I wouldn’t hear of it, Mrs. D’Marigny.  You must be exhausted.”

    “Yes, but—but I am not—” Marie sputtered.  She threw Ben another pleading look, but he just winked mischievously.

    The men and youngsters had followed the two women into the parlor.  Nelly turned around.  “Clyde, you’d best ride over to Cosser’s boarding house after dinner and see if they have a room for Mrs. D’Marigny.”

    “No need of that, Nelly,” Ben chuckled.

    “Well, of course, there’s need, Ben,” Nelly scolded.  “You’re tired, and Clyde’ll be glad to see to the arrangements.  The lady will need a place to stay while she’s here seein’ to her husband’s affairs.”  Nelly wasn’t sure what affairs Jean D’Marigny could have left unattended here in Utah Territory, but she could imagine no other reason the woman would have traveled from New Orleans.

    “No, I meant that the lady will be staying at my place,” Ben announced, watching carefully for the explosion he was sure would follow.

    “Ben!” Nelly hissed.  “How could you even think of anything so scandalous?”  She took Marie’s hand protectively.  “If you don’t care what folks think of you, at least consider this poor child’s reputation.”

    “There’ll be a lot more talk if I don’t take her home with me,” Ben stated wryly.  “After all, man and wife generally sleep under the same roof.”

    The silence that followed was as deafening as the aftermath of a cannon blast.  Everyone stared first at Ben, then at the furiously blushing Marie.  Finally, Clyde grinned and clapped Ben on the back.  “You sly old dog!” he cackled.  “Let you out of our sight a few weeks, and you go and git yourself hitched!”

    “That’s right, I just can’t be trusted,” Ben chuckled.

    Nelly pressed her hands against her cheeks.  Then, as Ben tried to give her a repentant hug, she slapped his arms away.  “Ooh, you awful man!” she fumed.  “Lettin’ me go on like that, after you led me astray deliberate.”

    Ben just laughed and gave her a squeeze.  “Is it my fault you interrupted my introduction?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  He took Marie’s hand and lifted her to her feet.  “Let’s start again, then.  This, my friends, is Marie DelVyre D’Marigny Cartwright.”  He laid heavy emphasis on the final word.

    Ben caught sight of Hoss’s puzzled face and stooped down to the little lad’s level.  “I brought you more than bonbons, Hoss,” he said softly.  “I brought you a new mama.”

    “For real and true?” Hoss whispered, awestruck.  “A real mama?”

    Marie bent to take his pudgy cheeks between her palms.  “I hope to be a good one, Hoss.”

    Hoss threw his chubby arms around her.  “I always wanted a mama,” he declared.

    Marie held him close.  What a darling boy!  He was just as Ben had described him, warm and loving, taking her to his heart in an instant.  She looked hopefully at the older boy and her smile faded, for Adam was staring at her with dark, brooding eyes.

    “Adam, don’t you have a greeting for your new mother?” Ben was asking.

    “She’s not my mother!” Adam shouted, spun on his heels and ran from the cabin.  Billy trotted after him.

    “Oh,” Marie cried, “we have hurt him!”

    Nelly was at her side in an instant, holding the slender, trembling girl in her warm embrace.  “There now; don’t fret, honey lamb.  Adam’ll come around.”  She turned censorious eyes on Ben.  “You and your surprises,” she chided.  “It was bad enough leading me on, but to spring the news on the boy that way!  Ben, where was your head?”

    “I guess I didn’t think,” Ben conceded, “but I sure never expected that reaction.  Adam’s been taught better manners than that.”

    “Oh, Ben, no one remembers manners when he is wounded,” Marie objected in Adam’s defense.  “You must go to him.”

    “This child’s got more sense than you,” Nelly said.  “For mercy’s sake, Ben, go after the boy.”

    Ben looked torn.  He hated to leave Marie among virtual strangers, but she was nodding her permission, and Hoss had instinctively moved closer to comfort her.  “Will you take care of Mama for me while I talk to Adam, son?” he asked.

    “Sure, I will,” Hoss declared, chest puffing out.

    “I’ll be back soon,” Ben promised, pressing a soft kiss to Marie’s forehead.

    “Ben, you been out of commission longer than I figured if you think that’s the way to kiss a new bride,” Clyde guffawed.

    Ben smiled, his spirit lightened by the jibe.  “You’re right,” he said as he pulled Marie into his arms and gave her lips a loud, vigorous smack.

    “Ben, please,” Marie pleaded, embarrassed.

    “Scat, Ben,” Nelly ordered, flapping her apron at him.  “You come in the kitchen with me,” she said, gently pulling Marie toward the door.  “I think I could use a little help after all.”  Better to keep the girl busy, Nelly decided, and for all she’d been married twice, the new Mrs. Cartwright was still little more than a girl, young and innocent like the two little ones who followed at her heels.  Clyde could call Ben a sly dog if he wanted, but Nelly figured cradle-robber came closer to truth.

    Adam hadn’t gone far.  He leaned back against the cabin’s west end, arms stiffly folded, black eyes flinty.

    “What’s the matter with you?” Billy demanded.  “You’d think your pa’d brought home a grizzle bear instead of the prettiest lady I ever saw!”

    “What’s looks got to do with anything?” Adam snarled.  “She’s got no business here.”

    “Huh!” Billy snorted.  “Seems your pa thinks different, and I’m takin’ his side.”

    Adam clenched his fist and took a step toward Billy, but before he could reward his friend’s impudence with the appropriate retaliation Ben rounded the corner.  Adam’s fingers loosened and fell to his side.

    “Don’t need to tell me,” Billy announced.  “I know when to clear out.”  He ran back around the corner Ben had just passed.

    Adam jerked away from the wall and stalked to the nearby woodpile.  Picking up the hatchet stuck in the chopping block, he slammed its blade along the edge of a small log.

    Ben frowned.  “I didn’t hear anyone ask for more kindling, boy.”

    Adam winced.  The very address his father had chosen told him he was in deep trouble.  “Just figured to make myself useful,” he said, splitting off another piece of wood.

    Ben grabbed Adam’s elbow and wrenched the hatchet away.  “You’re avoiding me, Adam; that’s not like you.  Now, what’s this all about?”

    Adam answered with another question.  “How could you, Pa?” he demanded.  “How could you go and get married without asking us first?”

    Ben took a deep breath.  “I don’t need your permission to take a wife, boy.”

    Adam folded his arms and glared at his father, stubborn as before.  “You did when you married Inger.”

    Ben shook his head in disbelief.  “Oh, Adam, I wasn’t really asking your permission back then, either.  I already knew you loved Inger.”

    “You didn’t know it about this one,” Adam sputtered, knocking the remaining wood off the chopping block.  “You didn’t even tell us.”

    Ben took the boy by both shoulders.  “I couldn’t, Adam; everything happened too quickly for that.”

    “You could have written, at least,” Adam insisted.

    Ben removed his hands.  “I suppose I could have, but I wanted to tell you this news in person, son.  I admit I did a poor job of choosing time and place, and for that I apologize.”

    “I just don’t understand, Pa,” Adam murmured, the pain evident in his voice.  “Was it because you felt bad about the way her husband died or ‘cause she didn’t have anyone to take care of her?  Why, Pa?”

    “For none of those reasons,” Ben said calmly, “but for the best of possible reasons.  I fell in love with her, Adam, and you will, too, if you give yourself a chance.”

    Adam shook his head violently.  “No,” he declared adamantly.

    Ben’s face grew stern.  “Adam,” he said sharply, then made his tone more conciliatory.  “You shouldn’t make such snap judgments, son; it’s never wise and totally wrong in this case.  Marie is going to make a wonderful addition to our home.”

    “We don’t need her,” Adam pleaded, his black eyes anguished.  “We were fine the way we were.”

    “I wasn’t fine,” Ben said quietly.  “I was incredibly lonely, Adam.  Now I have someone to share my life.”

    Tears were filling Adam’s eyes, but he blinked them back.  “You had someone before.  You had me and Hoss.”

    “There’s room in Hoss’s heart for someone else; why not in yours?” Ben asked soberly.

    “Hoss is a baby,” Adam railed, “and too dumb to know better.”

    “That’s enough!” Ben shouted.  “At this moment I’ll take the baby’s maturity over the boy’s.  Now, dinner will be ready soon.  I expect you to be at the table and I expect you to be civil.  As long as you’ve started, I suggest you go ahead and split a little kindling.  Maybe you can work off some of your temper!”  He turned and walked away.

    Adam stared sadly at his father’s retreating back.  He couldn’t ever remember feeling this desolate, this devastated.  His father had always been his best friend, his greatest supporter.  Now all that seemed lost, all because of an unexpected, unwanted intruder.  He picked up the hatchet and a block of wood, but no matter how forcefully he whacked at it, he couldn’t release his anger.  He came to dinner when he was called, but sat silent at the table, eyes riveted to his plate.  He was afraid if he raised them, his feelings would show and drive his father further away.

    As soon as dinner ended, the Cartwright boys gathered their possessions and loaded them in the buckboard.  Ben helped Marie in, then noticed Hoss climbing up on the other side.  “No, Hoss,” he said, “you ride in back, son.”

    “Oh, there is room,” Marie said, scooting close to Ben’s side.

    “All right,” Ben laughed indulgently, “but don’t complain if he’s a tight fit.”

    Hoss’s addition did make for tight seating, but Marie wouldn’t have dreamed of asking him to move.  She put her arm around him in a welcoming embrace and he snuggled close, each happy in the other’s closeness.  Alone in the back of the cluttered buckboard, Adam smoldered all the way home, rejecting all Marie’s attempts to draw him into the conversation.  Klamath, trotting alongside the wagon, received more of his attention than she.

    “I cannot wait to see our home,” Marie enthused.  “Are we near there, Ben?”

    “Another mile,” Ben said.

    “And is it as small as the Thomas’s cabin?”

    Ben coughed.  “Well, uh, as a matter of fact—”

    “It’s smaller,” Adam grunted, finally favoring them with a remark since it could be a discouraging one.  “Lots smaller, barely big enough for three.”

    Ben turned and fixed a stern stare on his elder son.  Adam shrugged and slid toward the back of the wagon and back into silence.

    “I guess we will just have to squeeze together then, like now, oui, Hoss?” Marie giggled, hugging him tighter.

    “We?” Hoss said.  “You mean me and you, Mama?”

    Ben laughed.  “No, Hoss; ‘oui’ means yes in French, and you’d better learn it.  Your new mama uses it a lot.”

    “I do, don’t I?” Marie smiled.  “A old habit.”

    “Don’t bother breaking it,” Ben said.  “I’m rather fond of that habit, and the boys will soon become accustomed to it, right, Hoss?”

    Hoss tittered.  “Oui, Pa.”

    Adam scowled, resolving never to use or respond to the French terminology.  Blamed if he’d let any foreigner change the way he talked!  He conveniently forgot how readily he’d adopted Inger’s Swedish phrases.

    Hoss pointed excitedly ahead as a rough cabin came into view on the far horizon.  “There, Mama!” he cried.  “That’s Tree!”

    “Tree?” Marie asked inquisitively.

    “Pine Tree Station, to be more precise,” Ben chuckled.  “Hoss shortened it to Tree early on, and we’ve never been able to break him of it.”

    “It needs a better name,” Adam grumbled, making his first contribution in more than half an hour.  He didn’t want the newcomer thinking they were satisfied with anything so prosaic.

    “Yeah, it does,” Ben agreed, then added brightly.  “Perhaps Marie can help us come up with a new name.”

    “Oh, but Ben, I know already,” Marie bubbled.  “You remember that man we met in Panama City, the one who studies trees?”

    “The botanist who was headed back east?  Sure, I remember,” Ben said.

    “Did he not have a special name for the pines he studied in the mountains?”

    “That’s right,” Ben recalled.  “He called them——let’s see——ponderosas, wasn’t it?”

    “Yes, that is it,” Marie cried.  “I remember thinking what a beautiful sound the word had.  Wouldn’t the Ponderosa make a lovely name for our home, where so many pines grow?”

    “The Ponderosa.”  Ben rolled the word across his tongue, liking the feel of it.  “That’s perfect, my love.  What do you think, Adam?”

    “Well, it’s better than Tree,” Adam admitted grudgingly.  He wrapped his arms around his legs, holding himself tight.  It wouldn’t do to admit how much he liked the name.  Not when she’d chosen it.  Of course, it was really that unknown botanist who had provided the terminology, and the scientific basis for the ranch’s new name was what appealed to Adam.  He couldn’t afford to let his father’s wife know he liked it, though.  Might make her feel he was warming to her, and Adam had no intention of doing that.  “Likely we won’t get Hoss to use a long word like that, though,” he grumbled.

    “Yes, I will,” Hoss declared defensively.  “I ain’t a baby no more.  I can say Ponderosa, so there!”

     Ben winced at Hoss’s slaughter of English grammar.  He should have corrected it, of course, but not today.  Considering that Hoss was the only one of his sons giving Marie an unreserved welcome to the family, Ben hadn’t the heart to find the slightest fault with him.  A good thing, though, that the boy would be off to school in a few months.  His grammar needed attention.

    Ben reined the team to a halt before the door of his three-room cabin.  “Well, here we are,” he announced with forced enthusiasm.  Suddenly, presenting the cabin to his bride, Ben realized how woefully inadequate it was to anything but a bachelor’s use.  What would Marie think of her hero now that he was offering her a shack to live in?

    Looking at her new home, Marie’s heart dropped.  It was, as Adam had said, much smaller than the Thomas cabin.  “Well, let us see the inside,” she remarked, keeping her voice lilting to cover any disillusionment she felt.

    Ben smiled ruefully and helped her down.  Hoss jumped off the wagon seat and raced around the front of the team.  Grabbing Marie’s hand, he pulled her toward the door.  “Come on, I’ll show you around,” he offered.

    Ben released Marie to her new guide, then turned to Adam.  “Coming in, son?”

    Adam dropped over the side of the wagon.  “I’ll unhitch the team; someone needs to,” he said.

    Ben nodded quietly, guessing the real motive behind Adam’s helpfulness.  But, motive aside, the work did need to be done.  “Yeah, you do that,” he suggested, “and we’ll see you inside later.”  Ben went into the cabin and found Hoss eagerly pointing out its features to his new mother.  Marie was looking around the main room, the dismay on her face unconcealable.

    Ben crossed the room quickly to take her in his arms.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “You deserve so much better than this.”

    “Don’t you like it?” Hoss murmured, worry furrowing his brow.

    “Mais oui,” Marie whispered, her tone more one of concern for the child than one of conviction.  “It is a good home, but I am glad we are already planning one where we will have more room.”

    Hoss looked puzzled.  Unlike his father and brother, he’d never quite understood the need for a bigger house.  This one had always seemed fine to him, but maybe it would be extra crowded with a fourth person living here.  Yeah, that must be it; that must be what his new mother meant.  “We’ll build it fast, huh, Pa?”

    “Fast as we can,” Ben chuckled.  He looked apologetically into his bride’s green eyes.  “Think you can make out here a few months?”

    “But, of course,” Marie declared.  “Now, where is the kitchen, Ben?”

    Ben’s mouth twisted awry.  “You’re in it,” he said softly.

    “But—but where is the stove?” Marie asked urgently, her face almost frantic.  “Where do you cook?”  As Ben pointed to the open fire, she collapsed in a chair beside the table.  “Oh, Ben,” she cried, “I do not know if I can.”

    “Sure, you can,” Ben said encouragingly.  “It can’t be all that different from cooking on a stove.”

    Marie looked dubious.  She ran her finger along the edge of the table, leaving a trail in the dust.  She frowned at Ben.

    “Sorry about the dust,” he said, “but no one’s lived here while I’ve been away.”

    “Well, dust, at least, I know how to deal with,” Marie said, standing.  “If I could have some water—”

    “I’ll fetch a pail,” Hoss said, eager to help.

    Ben beamed his approval.  “Good boy.”  He turned to Marie.  “I should let my foreman know I’m back and see how things have gone in my absence.”

    “Of course, Ben, please go about your work,” she urged.  “I have plenty to keep me busy here, and I’m sure Hoss will give me all the help I need.”  She was suddenly aware of the absence of the other member of the family.  “But where is Adam?  Has he run away again?”

    “No, no,” Ben assured her.  “He’s busy in the barn.  I’ll bring back a couple of men from the bunkhouse to help Adam and me unload our belongings.”

    “There is no hurry,” Marie said with a weak smile.  “I do not want my things brought in until the house is clean.”

    Ben winced.  “Maybe I’d better put them in the barn for now.”

    Marie nodded, her eyes at last lighting with a twinkle of amusement.  “Just bring me something plainer to change into, s’il vous plait.”

    “Right away,” Ben said.

    Hoss soon returned, lugging two full pails of water.  Marie, now dressed in a brown-sprigged calico with cream-colored apron, took one from him.  “My, what a strong boy you are, Hoss!”

    Hoss squared his shoulders proudly.  “I’m a big boy, and I can be lots of help.”

    “Yes, I will need lots of help,” Marie said.  “Did you ever see such dust?”

    “Lots of times,” Hoss offered ingenuously.

    Marie tittered.  “Oh, Hoss, you are a priceless jewel,” she said, giving him a hug.  “Now, where shall we start?  With the table, I suppose.  We must eat before we sleep, oui?”

    “Oui,” Hoss agreed.

    “I will need soap and a scrub brush.”

    “I’ll get ‘em,” Hoss offered.

    Adam appeared in the doorway.  “Pa said to ask if you needed anything,” he muttered.

    “Well, I could clean better with hot water,” Marie replied. “Do you know how to build a fire, Adam?”

    “Well, sure,” Adam declared, his tone implying that anyone who couldn’t was no smarter than a jackass.

    “I would appreciate it,” Marie said, offering him a smile.

    Adam shrugged and went to bring in the needed wood.  Marie didn’t ask for anything else, so he wandered back outside, scuffing at the dust with his boots until his father returned and they began to unload the boxes and bundles from the buckboard.

    Inside, Hoss and Marie made a concerted attack on the piled up dust, and before long the front room looked better than it had since the day the three Cartwrights moved in.  Marie fingered the curtains at the windows.  “Who made these, Hoss?” she asked.  “Your mother?”

    “Unh-uh,” Hoss said.  “Aunt Nelly.”

    “Aunt Nelly?” Marie queried.  “Mrs. Thomas is your aunt?  But Ben called them friends, not family.”

    “I don’t know,” Hoss said.  “Better ask Pa.”

    “I will,” Marie smiled.  “She did a nice job with these curtains, but they have not been washed for some time, I think.”  She didn’t add “probably never,” but their condition implied that the curtains had never seen a wash tub.  To be expected, she supposed, with only a man and two boys to do the housework after their other chores.  Well, she’d rectify that as soon as she could.  Not tonight, though.  “Time to work on the bedrooms,” she told Hoss cheerfully.

    “Okay,” Hoss agreed.  “Wanna see mine first?”

    “By all means,” Marie laughed.  She followed the boy through the first room into the one beyond.  She looked approvingly at the two beds, each with a small chest at its foot.  One bed sported a rack of antlers above its head.

    “That one’s Adam’s,” Hoss informed, following her line of vision.  “Mine’s over here.”

    “You boys keep your things neatly put away,” she praised.

    “Not always,” Hoss admitted.  “Pa made us clean up extra good before we left.”

    Marie touched the quilt covering Hoss’s bed.  “More of Mrs. Thomas’s work?”

    Hoss shook his head.  “I think Mama——my mama, I mean——made those.”

    Marie smiled tenderly at him.  “They are beautiful,” she said.  “Your mama was a good seamstress.  See the tiny stitches she used.”  She took the boy’s hand.  “Do you remember much about your mother, Hoss?”

    “Don’t ‘member her at all,” Hoss answered.  “I was a baby when she died.  She was pretty, though; Pa’s got a picture of her——Adam’s mother, too.”

    “I saw them on the mantel,” Marie said quietly.  “Your mother is the one with hair light like yours, oui?  She was pretty, Hoss.”

    “Yeah, but not pretty as you,” Hoss said with a grin.

    Marie laughed and gave him a hug.  “Well, like the curtains, these quilts need washing, but that is too big a job for today.  Let’s take them outside and give them a good shaking, though, to get rid of some of the dust.”

    “Okay, I’ll take mine,” Hoss offered.  Marie nodded, picking up Adam’s quilt.  As she passed back into the other bedroom, the one that must be hers and Ben’s, she paused to take the quilt from that bed as well.  She halted with a frown.  This bed was as narrow as either of the boy’s.  Obviously, it hadn’t been built for two.  Marie sighed.  Another problem to solve.  But that one she would have to leave to Ben.  Turning her attention to the one she could solve, Marie carried the two quilts outside.

    The sun was beginning to dip behind the western mountains by the time the house was cleaned to Marie’s temporary satisfaction.  She sat wearily in a chair at the table and stared into the fire, contemplating the biggest problem she’d yet faced.

    Hoss, standing beside her, patted her arm.  “Tired, Mama?” he asked solicitously.

    Marie smiled at him.  “Not half as much as I would be without your help.  But now it is time to cook supper, and I have never cooked over an open fire.  I do not even know what there is to prepare.”

    “I like pie best,” Hoss suggested.

    Marie laughed.  “There is no oven, Hoss.  How could I make pie?”

    Hoss shrugged.  “I don’t know much about cookin’, Mama.”

    “Where would your father keep meat, if he had any?” she asked.

    “Oh, that’s easy,” Hoss said.  “In the root cellar.  There’s lots more food in there.”

    Marie stood at once.  “Show me this root cellar,” she said.

    Hoss trotted to the door to comply and met his father coming in with Adam.  “Mama wants some meat to cook, Pa,” Hoss announced.

    “You and Adam bring some salt pork and potatoes from the cellar,” his father dictated.  When they disappeared, Ben crossed the room to give Marie a kiss.  “The house looks so much better already,” he praised.  “You’ve been working hard.”

    “Yes, but the hardest work is just ahead, I fear,” Marie sighed, casting a discouraged glance at the fireplace.

    Ben’s arm slipped to her waist to give her an encouraging hug.  “We’ll keep it simple tonight.  Just fry some salt pork and potatoes and stir up a batch of cornbread.  You can handle that, can’t you?”

    “Well—” Marie murmured uncertainly.

    “Oh, of course, you can,” Ben assured her.  “Is there anything you’d like brought inside now that the place is clean?”

    “That trunk of dresses I had made in St. Joseph,” Marie replied.  “I don’t suppose I’ll have any use for the silks and satins out here, so they might as well stay in the barn.”

    Ben chucked her delicate chin.  “Don’t be so sure.  We throw a fandango or two even here in the wilderness, and, of course, you’ll want nice clothes for our trips to San Francisco.”

    Marie laughed.  “Oh, Ben, I did not mean to complain.  But there is no room for unneeded clothes in here.  If you could find the bundle of spices I brought from the market, I am sure I can find a place for those.”

    “Your wish is my command, fair princess,” Ben smiled.

    Adam and Hoss entered just as their father left, bringing the supplies he had ordered.  Marie took them, then stared perplexedly at the boys.  “How—how does your father cook this salt pork and potatoes?” she asked nervously.

    “Can’t you cook?” Adam jeered.  “I thought all ladies could cook.”

    “Of course, I can cook,” Marie sputtered, her color rising, “but I am used to different foods.”  She turned to Hoss.  “Can you answer my question?”

    “Well, Pa kinda chunks ‘em up and fries ‘em,” Hoss offered.

    “That does not sound too difficult,” Marie said tentatively, taking the food to the counter just left of the fireplace.

    “I’ll get a knife,” Hoss said.

    Marie spun around.  “No, Hoss!” she cried.

    Adam grabbed Hoss’s arm.  “You know better than that!” he yelled.  “Pa never lets you touch knives.”

    Marie pulled Adam’s fingers from his brother’s arm.  “There is no need to be so harsh,” she said.  “Hoss was only trying to help.  Why don’t you find a sharp knife for me?”

    “Sure,” Adam muttered.  Giving Hoss a disapproving scowl, he found the knife and slapped it on the counter.

    Marie frowned at the boy’s obvious distemper, but she resolved to say nothing.  No mere words would win Adam’s heart, she was sure, but perhaps if she responded to his rudeness with courtesy and kindness, he would at length relent.  “Thank you, Adam,” she said, in her sweetest voice.

    Adam shrugged and walked away.  He sat in a chair and watched as Marie diced the salt pork and potatoes and poured them into a frying pan.  When she stooped to hold it over the fire, he laughed with derisive harshness.  “You really don’t know anything, do you?” he ridiculed.

    Marie stood and spun around, facing him with one hand on her hip, the other trembling under the weight of the panful of pork and potatoes.  “If you know better what to do, you should tell me.”

    Adam placed the metal grate over the fire.  “Anybody ought to know better than to squat and hold the pan the way you were,” he taunted.  “How would you cook anything else?”

    “Yes, that is better.  Thank you, Adam,” Marie said again, but there was less sweetness in her tone this time.  “Do you also know how to bake cornbread without an oven?”

    “In the spider, of course,” Adam scoffed.  “Anybody—”

    “Yes, I know, anybody should know that!” Marie snapped.  “So you have said.”

    Ben walked in and his eyebrows met in a straight line.  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

    “J—just showing her how to use a spider,” Adam stammered defensively.  He glanced anxiously at Marie.

    “Yes,” Marie said quickly.  “Both the boys have helped me much this day.”

    “Yeah, I can see that,” Ben grunted.  He gave Adam a hard look, certain ‘helpful’ wasn’t the best description of his behavior.  Marie obviously wanted to shelter Adam, though, and for now Ben would allow it.  Adam had been hurt by the sudden announcement of his father’s marriage and needed time to heal.

    Marie tried hard to prepare a good meal for her new family, but the results were less than tasty.  Distracted over baking the cornbread in the unaccustomed way, she neglected to stir the main dish often enough, and it came out blackened on one side, underdone on the other.  She didn’t know to heap coals on the lid of the spider, either, so only the underside of the cornbread baked, leaving raw dough on top.  In her frustration, she also prepared the coffee with habitual French strength.

    Ben and Hoss made a stalwart effort to eat what was put before them, but Adam impatiently pushed the plate aside.  “This is awful,” he declared.

    “Adam,” Ben chided.

    “Well, it is!” the boy snapped.  “You want me to lie?”

    “I want you to watch your tone, boy!” Ben shouted.

    Marie threw her hands to her cheeks and fled from the house.

    Ben flung his fork to the table.  “Now, look what you’ve done!” he growled.  He stalked outside, slamming the door.

    “Why’d you talk ugly to her?” Hoss, almost in tears, demanded.

    “She’s stupid,” Adam groused.  “Can’t even cook.”

    “She’ll learn,” Hoss said.  “I bet she learns fast.”

    “You’re stupid, too,” Adam taunted.  “She’ll learn to cook about as quick as you learn to read.”

    Hoss’s cheeks puffed out with anger.  He knew he wasn’t as smart as Adam, but he didn’t like being twitted about his slowness.  Adam had never done that before.  “Take it back,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

    “Make me,” Adam sneered.

    Hoss lunged at him and soon the brothers were wrestling, knocking over chairs and sending plates rattling to the floor.

    Outside, Ben found Marie staring up at the stars.  He wrapped his arms around her.  “You shouldn’t come out without a shawl,” he whispered.  “The nights can get cool, even in summer.”

    “Not as cool as in the house,” Marie replied tensely.  “Icicles wouldn’t melt in there.”

    “You’ve had a hard day,” Ben said, “and Adam’s behavior has made it more so.”

    “It has,” Marie agreed, “but he is right about dinner.  I ruined everything, and I am the one who is sorry about that.  I am sorry, too, than I have come between you and your son.”  A sob caught in her throat.

    Hearing it, Ben turned her around and wiped the tears from her face.  “The only person who owes anyone an apology is Adam, and I’ll see to it he gives it to you.”

    “No, Ben, please no,” Marie wept.  “That will only make more distance between us.”

    “I won’t have him thinking such behavior is acceptable,” Ben said firmly.  “I ought to blister his britches for the way he’s acted.”

    “No, Ben,” Marie pleaded.

    “No, for your sake, I won’t,” Ben promised, “but he will wash up the supper dishes.  He deserves that much discipline.  Let’s go back in now and salvage what we can of dinner.”

    “You go,” Marie said.  “I would like to soak in the peace of the trees and the stars a little longer.”

    Ben nodded, gave her a tender kiss and went back inside.  What he saw the moment he opened the door made him wish that he, too, had remained beneath the peaceful, starlit trees.  “What in the world!” he hollered, stomping across the room to grab one boy in each hand.

    The fight died out of both youngsters as soon as they saw their father’s livid face.  “S—sorry, Pa,” Hoss stammered at once.

    Ben rounded on Adam.  “What’s this about?” he demanded.  “Hasn’t there been enough unpleasantness today to suit you, boy?  You have to add fighting to it?”

    “He threw the first punch,” Adam fumed.  Pa was acting like the whole thing was his fault!

    “He called Mama stupid,” Hoss yelled, “and he called me stupid, too——too stupid to learn to read!”

    Ben glared angrily at Adam.  “Is that true?”

    Adam shuffled his feet uneasily.  “Yeah, I guess so.”

    Ben planted both palms on his hips.  “The only reason you’re not getting a whipping this minute is because your mother—”

    “She’s not my mother!” Adam screamed.

    “Because your mother begged me not to,” Ben finished, uttering each word distinctly.  “You will, however, clear the table and wash the dishes.  Then, since you’re so much smarter than anyone else, you can prepare breakfast in the morning and do the cleanup then, too.”

    “All right,” Adam sputtered.  At least, we’ll eat better, he told himself, chin jutting up proudly.

    Ben turned to Hoss.  “Defending your mother shows your heart is in the right place, Hoss,” he said gently, “but it doesn’t excuse your fighting with Adam.”

    “Yes, sir, Pa; I’m sorry,” the youngster replied readily.

    “Well, you tell Adam you’re sorry, then I think you’d better go on to bed.”

    “Yes, sir.  I’m sorry, Adam.”

    Adam stopped clearing the table long enough to nod curtly.  “Yeah, me, too, Hoss.  I’m sorry I hit you.”

    Ben nodded his approval at both boys, then took Marie’s shawl from the peg where she’d hung it and carried it outside.  He placed it over her shoulders and they walked into the woods with his arms around her.  “It is as beautiful as you promised,” Marie whispered.  “Trees that touch the sky.”

    “You’re not sorry you came?” Ben asked, brushing a wisp of golden hair from her cheek.

    Marie shook her head.  “One day’s hardship would scarcely make me forget your love or mine for you.  I only hope I can make tomorrow better.”

    “We’ll all work at that,” Ben pledged.  He yawned.  “You as tired as I am?”

    Marie nodded, laying her head against his shoulder.  “Do you think it is safe to go inside?”

    “Of course, it’s safe,” Ben sputtered.  “I won’t allow Adam—”

    Marie laughed.  “It was not Adam’s temper I was worried about, Ben, but mine.”

    Ben smiled.  “It seems well in hand.  We should go in now, I think.  I sent Hoss to bed, and I’d like to tuck him in before he falls asleep.”

    “Oh, yes, that I would like, too,” Marie murmured contentedly.  “He, at least, loves me.”

    “And Adam soon will,” Ben said as they turned their steps back to the cabin.

    Adam continued washing the dishes without looking up when they entered.  Ignoring him, Ben and Marie went through their bedroom and into Hoss’s.  “We wanted to say good-night, mon cher,” Marie said, tucking his covers snug and bending to place a kiss on his forehead.

    Hoss grinned, though he looked puzzled.  “Is that more French talk?” he asked.

    Marie laughed lightly.  “Oui.  It means ‘my dear one.’  I could think of no better name for you.”

    “I like it,” Hoss announced.

    “And I like Mama,” Marie responded, kissing him once again.  “It is a word I have wanted to hear for a very long time.”

    “Sleep tight,” Ben said, patting Hoss’s head.  Hoss rolled over and sank deeper into his pillow as Ben and Marie walked softly out.

    In the next room Marie frowned at the narrow bed.  “I meant to ask earlier, Ben,” she began, “but what are we to do about this?”

    “About what?” Ben asked with childlike innocence.

    Marie rolled her eyes.  “The bed, Ben.  You did not build it with a wife in mind, I think.”

    Ben’s face fell.  “Oh, no, you’re right about that.  Well, I guess we’ll have to snuggle close,” he suggested with an uneasy laugh.

    Marie giggled.  “We can try, I suppose, but I think something will need to be done before many nights pass.”

    “Tomorrow,” Ben promised.  “I’ll ride over and see if Clyde can help me work it out.”

    Adam appeared in the doorway.  “Dishes are done,” he reported.  “Can I stay up and read in the front room?”

    “No, you go on to bed,” Ben ordered.  “We’ve all had a tiring day, and you have to be up early to fix breakfast.”

    “Yes, sir,” Adam mumbled and slid past to his own room.

    “More punishment,” Marie asked, “or are you afraid of my cooking?”

    Ben laughed and, pulling her down onto the bed, began to nibble her ear.

    “Ben,” she hissed softly, “let me undress first.”  Ben chuckled and released her.  She slipped into her filmy, beige nightdress and joined him in the bed.  Try as they might, however, they couldn’t get comfortable in such tight quarters.  Finally, Marie sat up.  “This is impossible, Ben,” she cried.

    Cramped against the wall, Ben gingerly raised himself on one elbow.  “I’ve got an idea,” he said.  “I’ll be right back.”

    Marie rose to let him out of bed, then watched with bewilderment as he stripped the blankets and sheets and carried them outside.  Were they to sleep under the stars as they had on the journey from Placerville?  She sighed.  She was weary of bedding on rough ground, but even that was no doubt preferable to squeezing together in such a small space.

    Ben returned as promised, wrapped her shawl around her and led her out to the barn.  “Here, with the animals?” she asked.

    “They won’t look,” Ben teased, as he eased her onto the bed he’d constructed of straw.

    “Umm, it is soft,” Marie sighed.  She stretched her arms up to Ben.  “It wants only you beside me to make it the best of beds.”

    Ben removed his trousers and crawled beneath the covers to hold her almost as closely as had been necessary in the narrow bed in the house.

    They returned laughing to the cabin the next morning, Marie still pulling wisps of hay from her hair.  Hoss, in his nightshirt, immediately ran to engulf her in a chubby-armed hug.  “Mama!” he cried.  “I was scared you’d gone away!”

    Marie stooped to gather him in her arms.  “I will never go away, mon cher,” she cried and covered his cheeks with kisses.  Adam clinched his teeth and took a vicious stab at the bacon sizzling in the skillet.

    Marie went into the bedroom to dress while Ben heated water with which to shave.  Hoss hustled to his room to pull on shirt and pants.

    Soon everyone was gathered around the breakfast table.  Marie heaped praise on Adam’s culinary efforts, but he made no response.  When he finished, Ben wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “I’m going over to the Thomases, boys,” he announced.  “You stay here and help Mama all you can.”

    “I am going with you, Ben,” Marie said quietly.

    “There’s no need,” Ben said.  “I thought you’d want to get more settled here.”

    “I am going with you, Ben,” she repeated firmly.

    Ben saw something in her face that troubled him, but he couldn’t read its meaning.  “All right,” he said.  “I’ll hitch the buckboard, then.”

    “I’ll help, Pa,” Hoss offered.  “Adam’s got dishes to do.”  There was just a trace of condescension in his voice.  Adam heard it, but bit his tongue.  No need to say anything now; he could repay Hoss’s sass after the grownups were gone.

    As soon as the buckboard rolled away, Adam took Hoss by one arm and dragged him to the fireplace.  Pulling Inger’s picture from the mantel, he shoved it in Hoss’s face.  “That’s your mama,” he lectured.

    “I know,” Hoss said, his nose crinkling with bewilderment.

    “Couldn’t tell it to hear you talk,” Adam ranted.  “Giving her name to this—this——you ought to be ashamed, Hoss.”

    “You—you think she’d mind?” Hoss whimpered, his blue eyes filling.

    Seeing the tears, Adam felt a moment’s remorse.  “It’s just plain wrong, Hoss, whether she’d mind or not.  She was the best mother there ever was, and you don’t need this new one.”

    “Yes, I do,” Hoss cried.  “I do need her, and I like her, too, and she’s gonna bake me special cookies like they have in New Orleans and—”

    “Cookies!” Adam snorted.  “Is that all you ever think about, filling your fat belly?”

    “No!” Hoss yelled.  “But I don’t see why I can’t have cookies and things like kids with mothers get all the time.  Why you gotta spoil everything?”

    Adam grabbed a pail from beside the door.  “Oh, go milk the cow,” he ordered grumpily.  What was the use arguing with Hoss?  He was just too young to understand.

    Hoss jerked the pail from Adam’s hand.  He was only too glad to get away from his touchy older brother.

    As Ben helped Marie from the buckboard, Nelly came out to meet them.  “Lands, didn’t expect to see you two again so soon,” she laughed.  Then the smile faded from her lips.  Something was wrong.  “Come inside, honey lamb,” she cooed as gently as she might have soothed her daughter Inger.

    “I—uh—I need to speak to Clyde,” Ben said awkwardly.  He and Marie had ridden in virtual silence, so he knew something was bothering his wife, and the fact that she obviously intended to tell Nelly Thomas what she refused to tell him was disconcerting.

    “Up to the trading post,” Nelly said, waving him off.  She drew Marie inside and closed the door.  “What is it?” she asked, taking the girl’s face between her motherly hands.

    Marie burst into tears.  “Oh, I do not know what to do,” she cried.

    “Is it Adam?” Nelly asked.  “Is he still actin’ fractious?”

    Marie nodded, then contradicted the gesture by wailing, “No!”

    Nelly folded the girl into her arms and let her weep herself quiet.  “Now, which is it?” she asked, smiling.  “Yes or no?”

    Marie gave a nervous giggle.  “Adam is difficult, yes, but that is not why I came.  It is—there is——no stove!”  She threw her hands over her eyes and wept profusely.

    Nelly’s womanly heart understood at once.  “Ooh, that Ben!” she fumed.  “Isn’t it just like a man to take a wife without stopping to think that he wasn’t set up for one.”

    Marie wiped her eyes.  “Well, I did not think, either,” she said, “not of practical things.  We thought only of our love for one another.”

    “Well, that’s natural in the first blush of romance,” Nelly comforted, “but it’s time to think of practical things now.  There’s no reason in the world Ben can’t provide you a stove, and I’m going to see to it he does.  Should have picked one up when he came through California, but I reckon it never crossed his mind.”

    “Nor mine,” Marie said, catching her breath at last.

    “Well, why should it, honey lamb?” Nelly said.  “You didn’t know what things were like out here, but Ben did.  It’s the man that’s at fault here, like they usually are.  You leave Ben to me.”

    “He—he is asking Clyde to help about our bed,” Marie stammered.  “We—we had to sleep in the barn last night.”

    Nelly laughed.  “Lands, I never thought of that.  When Clyde and Ben built that bed, they didn’t plan on anyone usin’ it but Ben.  But don’t you worry, honey lamb; Clyde will know how to fix that quick as a wink.  Now I’m goin’ up to the tradin’ post to give Ben a earful.  Could you watch Inger for me?”

    “Of course,” Marie said, smiling at the sweet-faced child with strawberry blonde hair.  “But, please, do not be too hard on Ben.  He is only a man and does not think.”

    “They never do,” Nelly said flatly.  Within minutes she burst through the door of the trading post and backed Ben up against a wall.  “Of all the empty-headed notions,” she scolded, “how could you expect a city-bred gal to cook without a proper stove?”

    “Oh, yeah, well, I guess I wasn’t thinking,” Ben admitted.  “Is that what she’s upset about?”

    “Among other things,” Nelly spewed, “but this one you can fix, and you’re going to.”

    “Tell me how,” Ben pleaded.  “I don’t want her to be unhappy.”

    “Well, she’s going to be unhappy until she can make a proper home for you, cook and clean the way a wife should.  That’s important to a woman, Ben, especially a new bride,” Nelly explained.  “Now you can just turn around and head your wagon for Sacramento and bring back a stove and some decent cooking utensils.”

    “You mean right now, woman?” Clyde demanded.  “Without so much as a change of clothes?”

    “Oh, I reckon it’ll wait ‘til morning,” Nelly conceded, “but don’t dilly-dally, Ben.”

    “We’ll go tomorrow,” Ben said.  “I hate to impose again so soon, but I guess we’ll need to leave the boys with you.”

    Nelly faced him, arms akimbo.  “No need,” she said.  “You’re the only one travelin’.  Their new mother can look after the boys, and there’s plenty for her to do here to make your house her home.”

    “Nelly, she—she can’t cook,” Ben protested, “and Adam’s been pretty vocal about it.”

    “You tend to Adam’s mouth, and I’ll see to Marie,” Nelly said.  “I can teach her enough to get by until you get back, and I’ll make up a list of what I expect you to bring back for her.  You’ve got money enough, so don’t you quibble about any of it, Ben Cartwright!”

    “Yes, ma’am!”  Ben tapped his heels together and gave her a snappy salute.

    “Ooh, men!” Nelly stormed and stomped out.

    Ben’s trip to Sacramento proved unnecessary, however.  When his foreman, Enos Montgomery, heard that Ben planned to leave again so soon, he offered to go in his employer’s stead.  That seemed a better plan to Ben, since he could then be available to ease his wife’s adjustment to her new home and to serve as a buffer to Adam’s continued hostility.

    “Oh, that will be much better,” Marie cried with relief when Ben told her.  “I hope it is not too much imposition on Monsieur Montgomery.”

    “No, as a matter of fact, I think he relished the idea of a few days off in the big city,” Ben said.  “This way, too, I can be here for Hoss’s birthday.”

    “Is it soon?” Marie asked with quick interest.

    “Next Wednesday,” Ben replied.

    Marie clapped her hands with childlike delight.  “Oh, we must plan a celebration!”

    “Why, yes, we should,” Ben agreed.  His smile broadened as an idea struck him.  “I know just the thing.”  Marie gave him eager attention.  “The last few years we’ve made a trip up to Tahoe for the Fourth of July, but I was gone this year.  Why don’t we do that for Hoss’s birthday, instead?”

    “Where is this Tahoe?” Marie inquired.  “Is it far?”

    “Not too far,” Ben replied.  “It’s a beautiful alpine lake up in the mountains.  We usually take a picnic lunch and spend the day swimming and fishing.  The boys love going there.”

    “Oh, yes, that sounds perfect,” Marie said.  “May I tell Hoss right away?  He seems a little down-hearted today.”

    “Oh?”  Ben’s brow furrowed, then cleared.  “I bet I know what’s wrong.  I suspect Hoss is unhappy because he senses that you’ve been upset.”

    “Oh,” Marie sighed.  “I am sure you are right; he is such a tender-hearted little boy.  I must go at once and tell him that all is well and that we have planned a wonderful celebration for his birthday.”

    “You do that,” Ben said.  “I’ve got to get this list of supplies to Enos.  Nelly Thomas will never forgive me if an item gets overlooked.”

    Marie laughed and went to the barn in search of Hoss.

    The little boy looked up from his stool beside the milk cow as she came in.  “I’m almost through, ma’am,” he said quietly.

    For a moment Marie looked hurt, but, setting aside the pang in her own heart, she walked to the boy’s side and ran slender fingers through his wheat-colored hair.  “That is fine, Hoss,” she said softly, “but what does this ‘ma’am’ mean?  Yesterday you called me Mama, and I so liked the sound of that.”

    Hoss sighed deeply.  “Me, too,” he said sadly, “but Adam says I shouldn’t.”

    “Adam?” Marie cried.  “Pourquoi?”  Realizing she’d lapsed into a language Hoss couldn’t understand, she translated.  “Why, Hoss?”

    Hoss’s lower lip trembled.  “He—he thinks my mother wouldn’t like it.”

    Marie stooped to put her arms around the torn child.  “This is why you are so unhappy?  Because of Adam’s words?”

    Hoss nodded mutely, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.  “I—I like havin’ a mama here instead of in heaven, but I don’t wanna hurt her.”

    Marie hugged him to her breast.  “Oh, Hoss, to love me will not hurt her,” she declared.  “May I tell you a secret?”  Hoss’s fat chin bobbed.  Marie blinked back the mist in her eyes.  “I had a little boy once, Hoss,” she said quietly.

    “Where is he?” Hoss asked.

    “In heaven, like your mother,” Marie said.  “I miss him so much, but I know he is happy where he is and glad for me to have another little boy to love.  I am sure it is the same with your mother.”

    Hoss’s chubby face began to brighten.  “You—you think——maybe——my mama could take care of your little boy for you, and you could take care of me for her.”

    “Oh, mon cher, I am sure that is just what God has planned,” Marie said.  “It will make us all happy, oui?”

    “Oui!” Hoss grinned.  His face sobered for a moment.  “I’m sorry about your little boy.  I’d’ve liked a little brother.”

    Marie laughed and kissed his cheek.  “Well, perhaps in time I shall give you one, mon cher, but today I have a different sort of present.  That is why I came to seek you, so I could tell you of our plans for your birthday.”

    “Yeah?  You gonna bake me a cake?” Hoss asked, then he bit his tongue.  “Oops, I guess you can’t, not without a stove.”

    Marie sighed.  “No, I don’t think I would know how to do that over an open fire.  I am sorry my cooking is so bad now, Hoss, but it will be better soon, I promise.”

    “That’s okay,” Hoss assured her.  “Tell me about my birthday.”

    “Your father thought we might go to Lake Tahoe for a picnic and swimming and fishing,” Marie explained.  “You would like that?”

    Hoss almost bounced in her arms.  “Yeah!  I missed goin’ on the Fourth.  And will the Thomases go with us?  They usually do.”

    “We will see if they can,” Marie promised, “and perhaps Mrs. Thomas could help with the picnic, as her cooking is so good.  Let us take this milk inside now and think what we can do about dinner.”

    Hoss stood and picked up the pail of milk.  “Okay, Mama,” he replied, and they both exchanged a smile, enjoying the sound of that sweet name.

    Ben returned to help Marie prepare the meal.  A simple repast was soon ready and the Cartwrights gathered around the table.  Ben offered grace over the meal, but few other words were spoken.  Adam had been sullenly silent at every meal since Marie arrived, but today Marie sat wordless, as well.  Only Hoss had much to offer to the conversation.  Excited about the celebration planned for his birthday, he chattered happily about the big fish he planned to catch the following week.

    When everyone had eaten, Marie stood.  “Ben, may I have a word with you?”

    “Of course,” Ben said, eyes narrowing in concern.

    “Outside, please,” Marie said and preceded him through the door.

    Ben followed, worrying creasing his brow.  “Is something wrong?  Hoss seems happy again.”

    “Yes,” Marie said, “but that is no thanks to his brother.  Ben, I think you must speak to Adam.”

    Ben sighed.  “What’s he done now?  I thought he’d been working away from the house this afternoon.”

    “He has not been here,” Marie said.  “The damage must have been done while we were away.  He has said things to Hoss that are inexcusable, Ben.”

    Ben’s visage grew stern.  “What kind of things?”

    “That Hoss must not love me or call me Mama because this would displease his mother in heaven,” Marie sputtered.  “I know Adam dislikes me, but I had not thought him cruel enough to ruin a little boy’s happiness.”

    Ben was shocked.  “I wouldn’t have believed him capable of that, either!  You’re sure?”

    Marie flared.  “It is what Hoss says.”

    “Well, Hoss is young; he could have misunderstood,” Ben suggested, wanting to give his older boy every benefit of the doubt.

    “Do you really believe that?” Marie demanded hotly.

    Ben glanced away for a moment, then met her stare directly.  “No, no, I don’t.  It looks like I’ll have to have a very necessary little talk with that young man, after all.”

    “Yes, do,” Marie urged, not understanding that Ben was implying a spanking rather than a conversation.  “You must make Adam understand that whatever his feelings, Hoss has a right to different ones.”

    “Oh, he’ll understand that, I assure you,” Ben promised.  “He will definitely understand that!”  He stalked to the cabin door.  “Adam, get out here!” he yelled.

    Adam, who’d been helping Hoss clear the table, dragged reluctant steps outside.  He wasn’t sure what the problem was, but his father’s furious face plainly spoke the existence of one.  What could that hateful woman have told Pa to make him so suddenly angry?

    Adam soon learned the source of his father’s ire and felt its fury at the end of a birch switch.  He readily admitted his wrongdoing in regard to Hoss, but continued obdurate in his attitude toward Marie.  She was the one who’d forced Pa to give him this whipping when Pa knew he was too grown up for one.  She was the one who’d caused the problem in the first place, wedging her way into their lives, getting between him and Pa, him and Hoss.  Everything was her fault.  Adam knew marriage was a lifelong commitment in his father’s book, so, unfortunately, there’d be no getting rid of the interfering outsider, but Adam had every intention of doing whatever he could to make her life as miserable as she had made his.
 
 

Ben leaned back against the granite boulder shaded by a giant ponderosa pine.  Below him, at the lake’s edge, Hoss dangled a fishing pole in the glassy blue water.  Adam, swimming with Billy, was dim in the distance, but Ben could still hear their frolicsome shouts.  How wonderful to hear Adam laugh again.  Ben closed his eyes, relishing the sound.  Then another sound struck his ear.  He turned at the crack of a stick under a boot.

    “Plannin’ to doze off on me, are you?” Clyde snickered, squatting beside Ben.

    “Nope,” Ben chuckled.  “I’m feeling too lazy to make plans, even that kind.”

    Clyde grinned appreciatively.  “Good idea you had, comin’ up here for the youngun’s birthday.”

    Ben nodded.  “Good idea all around.  Marie called it the most beautiful place she’d ever seen, and even Adam seems content today.”

    “Still givin’ you problems?” Clyde asked, a frown furrowing his forehead.

    “Me, no,” Ben sighed, “but he makes things as difficult as he can for Marie.  She’s showing him the patience of an angel, while he—”

    “Acts like a little devil?” Clyde suggested with a rueful grin.

    Ben winced.  “I’d hate to identify any child with that particular personage, but he’s certainly not offering his new mother much of the milk of human kindness.”

    Hoss turned toward his father.  “I give Mama all the milk she needs, Pa,” he called.

    Ben guffawed.  “I didn’t mean cow’s milk, Hoss!”  He tossed a tiny pebble at youngster.  “Now turn around and keep your mind on your fishing instead of eavesdropping.”

    “Little pitcher’s gettin’ an earful, is he?” Clyde sniggered.

    “Morning and night,” Ben muttered.  “No way to protect him from all the unpleasantness.”

    “Sorry things ain’t workin’ out,” Clyde commiserated, “but I reckon Adam’ll come around in time.”

    “I hope so,” Ben said.  “The ladies back yet?”

    “Naw, still out pickin’ strawberries,” Clyde reported.  “Hope they find a bunch.”

    “Not likely this close to the lake,” Ben said.  “The Washos are fond of strawberries, too.”

    “Ain’t seen as many injuns as usual,” Clyde commented.

    “Most have moved into the higher meadows, I think,” Ben yawned.  “Fishing season’s about over, and gathering time started.”

    “You keep up on their doin’s?” Clyde asked.

    Ben shook his head.  “No, not really.  What little I know I learned from Tuquah.”  He laughed loud.  “You should have seen Marie’s face the first time she saw him.  The way she screamed!  You’d have thought the whole tribe was on the warpath.”

    Clyde cackled.  “Like to have seen that!  I reckon your child bride ain’t seen many Indians.”

    Ben smiled.  “Just the tame variety, the kind that sell beads on the street corners of New Orleans.”  Ben grew sober.  “No, the West keeps offering my wife new experiences, and, unfortunately, my older son doesn’t miss a chance to point out her slightest shortcoming in facing them.

    “If you want to get shed of him for a few days, to lighten things up, I’m willin’,” Clyde offered.

    Ben glanced sideways at his friend.  “I may have to take you up on that sometime, but I guess we’ll keep trying for now.  Adam’s at least being civil now, when I’m around to keep him in line, that is.”  He stood quickly.  “Pull him in, Hoss!” he hollered.  “Pull, boy, pull!”  He started to make his way down through the rocks to Hoss, but before he could reach the boy, Hoss toppled into the water.

    Screaming, Hoss frantically flapped his arms.  “Pa!” he sputtered.

    Ben skittered down the rocks as fast as he could, Clyde right behind him.  “Just stand up, Hoss,” he yelled.  The water wasn’t deep here, but to hear Hoss, anyone would have thought he was drowning.  “I’m coming, son,” Ben called, pulling off his boots and slipping into the water.  His bare toes moved tenderly over the pebbly bottom of the lake until he reached Hoss and pulled him into his arms.  “Hoss, you’ve got to get over this fear of the water, son,” Ben said, his voice soothing.  “There’s no reason for it.”

    “I can’t swim, Pa,” Hoss whimpered.  “I just can’t.”

    “You need to learn, Hoss,” Ben persisted.

    Hoss shook his head vehemently.  “I’ll go straight down, Pa,” he whined.  “I weigh too much.”

    “Hoss, that is ridiculous,” Ben said, then stopped.  What was really ridiculous was having this conversation with rock-bruised, freezing feet.  He pulled Hoss over to the lake’s edge and, giving him a boost, handed him up to Clyde.

    “You’re supposed to catch the fishies, Hoss,” Clyde cackled, “not go in to tickle ‘em.”

    “I—I d—didn’t,” a shivering Hoss protested.

    Ben climbed up on the rocks and started to pull off his trousers.  “Get those clothes off and lay them on the rocks to dry, Hoss,” he ordered.  “Then I think Uncle Clyde and I had better help you with the fishing or we’ll never have enough for supper.”

    About half a mile to the south, Marie and Nelly had just stripped the last strawberry from its jagged-leafed vine.  “Not much more than enough to eat for dessert,” Nelly sighed.  “I usually get enough to put up a few pints of jam, but we’re later gettin’ here this year.”

    “But fresh strawberries are a treat just like this,” Marie laughed, popping another between her lips, “and I do not have to cook them.”

    “Cookin’ goin’ any better?” Nelly asked.

    “A little,” Marie said.  “Ben helps quite a bit, which troubles me.”

    “Lands, if you can get a man to help out in the kitchen, let him!” Nelly laughed.

    Marie shook her head sadly.  “It does not lift me in Adam’s eyes.”

    Nelly laid a gentle hand on Marie’s arm.  “Don’t fret, honey lamb,” she soothed.  “I always said there was nothin’ on earth as stubborn as a mule or a Cartwright, and Adam’s just goin’ out of his way to prove it.  He’ll get past it, though.”

    “I hope so,” Marie sighed.

    “Of course, he will,” Nelly said brightly.  “Adam’s a good boy at heart.  I know that’s hard for you to believe right now, but—”

    “Oh, I do believe it,” Marie declared.  “Ben told me such wonderful things about his sons while we traveled here.  Hoss is everything he said, and I am sure Adam is a fine boy, too.  I only hate that my coming here has put such distance between him and Ben.  I think they were very close before.”

    Nelly nodded.  “It’ll work out,” she said.  “I’ll be keepin’ you folks in my prayers.”

    “Please do,” Marie urged.  “A miracle may be precisely what we need.”

    In a sense the miracle for which Marie prayed had already begun to germinate.  Though Adam’s attitude toward her did not change, the trip to Lake Tahoe seemed to remind him that, however dark his altered circumstances appeared, there were still simple joys to be pursued.  And the fact that Clarence Williams was scheduled to arrive only days after Hoss’s birthday expedition gave Adam something else to look forward to and a further motivation to guard his tongue and his behavior.  Ben and Marie both began to breathe a little easier as they saw the boy’s brooding introspection turn outward to more constructive thoughts.

    As promised, the architect appeared at the Cartwright cabin early on the morning of Friday, August 1st.  Ben warmly welcomed him inside.  “You can see why we’re anxious for a larger place,” he laughed as Williams sat at the dining table with all the Cartwrights gathered around him.

    Williams smiled.  “Yes, but this cabin is solidly built, not at all like some of the ramshackle affairs I observed on my journey here.  You are to be commended for that, sir.”

    Ben put an arm around each of his sons.  “You need walls that can take a lot of wear and tear when you have rough fellows like this around,” he chuckled.

    “Aw, Pa,” Hoss took exception.  “We ain’t so rough.”  Laughing, Ben rumpled his hair.

    Mr. Williams opened his portfolio.  “I thought you’d like to see and approve my final drawings,” he said.  “I’ve incorporated the changes we discussed on your last visit to San Francisco.”

    Adam’s visage darkened abruptly.  “What changes?” he demanded.  “Who wanted changes?  Her?”  He gave Marie a venomous glare.

    “Only small changes, Adam,” Marie assured him quickly.  “I love your plans for the house.”

    “What kind of changes?” Adam pressed, eyes flashing.

    “Truly, very small ones,” Williams assured him, disturbed by the commotion he’d innocently caused.  He spread open the diagram of the proposed house’s first floor.  “You see, we’ve added a pump in the kitchen with a sink for washing dishes, etc.”

    “Nothing too drastic about that, is there, Adam?” his father asked.

    Adam shrugged.  “I guess a pump’s all right,” he admitted.  “It would be easier than fetching water every day.”

    “Of course, it would,” Ben said enthusiastically, glad to see his older son grow reasonable.

    Williams pulled out the next sheet, showing the house’s second floor.  “This is the only other change, Adam,” he explained, pointing to the two rooms at one end.

    Ben pointed to the door connecting the two rooms.  “You see, Adam, it only affects my sleeping quarters——and Marie’s, of course.  We’ve just opened this up so we can reach the nursery easily.  That’s what this small room will be, we hope.”

    “A—a nursery?” Adam stammered.  Until that moment he’d not given a thought to the possibility of his father’s having more babies.  Her babies!

    “What’s a nursery, Pa?” Hoss asked, face crinkled in thought.

    “A room for babies, Hoss,” his father explained.

    “Oh!  That’s where my new baby brother’s gonna sleep,” Hoss cried happily.  Adam cut him a sharp glance.  Did Hoss know something he didn’t?

    But Ben was laughing.  “Who says it’ll be a brother, if God does bless us with a child?”

    Hoss grinned.  “I do, and I want the room next to his.”

    “I’ll think about it,” Ben chuckled.  “We thought you’d like this one, across the hall from Adam.”

    Hoss’s lips puckered.  The way Adam had been lately, he wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep close to him.  He didn’t say anthing, though.  Even if he’d been willing to set his older brother off again, he wasn’t the kind of boy who could deliberately hurt anyone.

    Mr. Williams gave a nervous laugh.  “Well—uh—does everything meet with your approval, then?”  He pursed his lips, deliberately avoiding looking at Adam.

    “Looks fine to me,” Ben assured him, then turned hopefully to his older son.  “How about you, Adam?”

    Adam swallowed hard.  The idea of new babies coming along to take away more of his father’s love was a new one, one he didn’t particularly relish, but he was old enough to understand that babies were the natural result of man and woman coming together.  It made sense to plan a place to put them.  “Yeah, I guess so,” he said quietly.

    “Good,” Ben said, relieved.  He turned back to the architect.  “Now, I suppose you’d like to view the proposed site.”

    “Indeed, yes,” Williams said enthusiastically.

    “Oh, let us all go,” Marie said.  “We can pack a lunch and make another picnic of it.”

    “Hooray!” Hoss yelled.  “I’ll drive Mama in the wagon, okay, Pa?”

    Ben patted the boy’s sturdy shoulder.  “Sure, good idea.  The rest of us will ride ahead to give Mr. Williams all the time he needs to get the lay of the land.  Adam, you help Hoss hitch the wagon, then come on.  You should catch up quickly.”  Adam nodded.

    Hoss raced out the door and ran to the barn as fast as his stubby legs would carry him.  Adam followed at a slower pace.  No need to hurry.  The lunch wasn’t packed yet, and, considering how handy that woman was around a kitchen, the team would no doubt stand waiting long enough without rushing to harness them.

    Once the team was ready, Hoss hustled back to the cabin to see if he could help his new mother.

    “I think I will just make some sandwiches from that roast beef we had last night,” Marie said.  “Does that sound good to you?”

    “Yeah, but you better make a bunch, if that’s all we’re havin’,” Hoss urged.

    Marie giggled.  “No, that is not all.  What else can you suggest, Hoss?”

    Hoss thought for a moment.  “There’s still some dried apples.  We could stew ‘em.  And we could take more bread and plum jam, too.”

    “Yes, all that sounds good,” Marie agreed, “and can you find a crock to carry fresh milk in?”

    “Sure, right away,” Hoss said.

    Working together, they soon had the picnic prepared and loaded into the buckboard.  The others had been at the house site about an hour when Hoss reined the horses to a halt.

    Ben came to lift Marie from the wagon.  “Looks like you did a fine job of handling the team, Hoss,” he said, smiling with pride.

    “Oh, he did, Ben,” Marie praised.  “As you told me long ago, he has a gentle touch with animals, and he has given us such a smooth ride.”

    “Good, good,” Ben said, his smile broadening.  He turned and called, “Adam, come help your brother unload the wagon.”

    As Adam shuffled down the hill, Clarence Williams also came to greet the rest of the party.  “You’ve chosen a lovely site for your new home, Mrs. Cartwright,” he enthused.

    “She didn’t choose it,” Adam snapped from the side of the buckboard.

    “No, he is quite right,” Marie said quickly.  “The choice was Adam’s and his father’s, but I am so happy with it.”

    “Me, too,” Hoss chimed in, taking the basket of sandwiches from the wagon.

    “It belongs to all of us,” Ben said, “and we’re all happy with the site.”

    “I’m so glad you’ve already had it cleared,” Williams said.  “I had assumed we still had that work ahead of us, but now we can start digging the foundation tomorrow morning.”

    Marie clapped her hands.  “And finish that much sooner!  Oh, that is wonderful.”  She spread Ben’s worn blue-checked tablecloth on the pine needle-strewn ground and placed the food and plates the boys brought to her.  Ben sat next to her, arm around her waist, as they ate.  Above them mountain bluebirds twittered in the evergreens and violet-green swallows flitted from branch to branch.

    Marie leaned her head against Ben’s shoulder.  “It is so peaceful here,” she murmured.

    Ben squeezed her waist.  “Think you’ll be happy so far from your nearest neighbor?”

    “Not so far,” Marie laughed, pointing to a bluebird nesting above them.  “I think we have excellent neighbors, Ben.”

    “You don’t expect this country to become populous, then?” Williams queried.

    Ben laughed.  “What would draw anyone here?  It’s good grazing land, of course, and cheaper than you’d find in California, but it’s not an easy place to live, as you’ll discover if the snows come before you finish your work.”

    “I will finish it as quickly as possible, then,” Williams smiled.  “I am prepared to winter here, if I must, but I would prefer to be back in California.”

    “Ah, sunny days and gentle nights,” Ben chuckled.

    Williams laughed lightly in response.  “Not at that season,” he said.  “Drizzly days and chilly nights would be a more accurate description of San Francisco in winter.  Still, I find it preferable to six feet of snow.”

    Marie shivered.  “Oh, does it get that deep, Ben?”

    “It can,” he admitted, “but those are the days we cuddle close to the fire, my love.”

    “Ben,” Marie chided softly.  “You speak too plainly.”

    Way too plainly, Adam thought as he snatched another sandwich from the basket and bit savagely into it.  He was the one Pa used to snuggle up with on winter nights.  They’d sit together and read from Shakespeare, oblivious to the howling wind and blowing snow outdoors.  Hoss managed to wedge his way in from time to time, of course, but Adam had a feeling both boys would be left out in the cold this winter.  No Shakespeare, no tales of Pa’s days at sea.  Pa’d probably be too busy making babies to spend any time with his first two sons.  Maybe Hoss wouldn’t be so eager to have a mother or a baby brother once he realized he no longer had a father.

    One evening, only days after Clarence Williams started the foundation, two wagons pulled into the Cartwrights’ yard.  Marie, Hoss at her side, went out to greet the new arrivals and recognized Enos Montgomery at once.  “Oh, you have brought the stove!” she cried joyfully.  “Please tell me you have.”

    Enos doffed his slouch hat.  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied respectfully, “and a load of other goods, too.  That’s why I’m later gettin’ back than I figured.  Had to arrange transport for your shipment from New Orleans.”

    “Oh, the furniture, too?” Marie asked.  “But where shall I put it?  There is no room here and the new house is little more than started.”

    “Don’t rightly know, ma’am,” Enos said, with a trace of a grin.  “Maybe I ought to find Mr. Cartwright so he could help you decide.”

    “Would you?” Marie pleaded.  “He is at the house site with Mr. Williams and Adam.  Do you know where that is?”

    “No, ma’am,” Enos answered.  “Mr. Cartwright didn’t have time to show me before he left.”

    “I could show him, Mama,” Hoss offered.

    “Are you sure, mon cher?” she asked.  “I do not think I could find my way again.”

    Hoss giggled.  “That’s ‘cause you’re a city lady.  I’m woods born, Mama.  I can find it.”  He ran to the barn to saddle his horse.

    “He’ll come to no harm, ma’am,” Enos promised.  “I’ll see to that, and I got some idea what direction to head, anyway.”

    “Very well,” Marie said.  “Please ask Mr. Cartwright to return as soon as he can.”

    Enos replaced his hat and touched its brim in farewell as he went to saddle a mount of his own.

    Marie went about her work, torn between the joy of finally being able to prepare a proper meal and the panic of not knowing where to store the furniture she and Ben had purchased for the new home.  When Ben arrived, he merely laughed at her frantic face.

    “Why, I thought we’d put the stove in the cabin’s front corner,” he teased.

    Marie pounded his chest with diminutive fists.  “Ooh, you know that is not what I meant!  The other things, Ben.  They cannot all go in the barn unless the animals leave.”

    “Well, I suppose they could ‘til the weather turns cold,” Ben chuckled.  “We’ll put as much in there as we can fit, then throw a cover over the rest.”

    “Will it keep safe?” Marie moaned.

    “Most likely,” Ben said.  “We don’t get much rain this time of year, and what comes shouldn’t penetrate both cover and crate.  Just tell me what’s most precious to you, and we’ll try to fit those things in the barn.”

    “But, of course, the armoires are the most precious,” Marie declared.

    “Ah, yes,” Ben twitted.  “No proper Creole home would be complete without armoires.”  He was still amused by Marie’s insistence that they purchase an armoire for each bedroom, even if they had to wait to buy beds.

    “Tease all you like,” Marie sputtered, “but you will be glad you have them once we are settled.”

    “Yes, my love,” Ben said in his most conciliatory tone.

    “Oh, Ben, do you think you could have the stove in place in time for supper?”

    “Oh, Marie!” Ben protested.  “We have to tear out that counter to make room for it and cut a hole in the roof for the stovepipe, then bring it in and set it up and—”

    “Not tonight, I take it,” Marie smiled.

    “Tomorrow, I promise.”

    Hoss had been crawling in and around the crates housing the furniture.  Finally, he emerged from his explorations to ask, “What’s in these things?  We gonna open ‘em now?”

    “Absolutely not!” Ben shouted.  “Get down from there.”

    Marie took Hoss’s hand as he jumped from the wagon.  “We will open them when we move to our new home, Hoss.  It will be like opening presents, oui?”

    “Yeah, like Christmas,” Hoss cried.

    “Which should be close to the time we actually open them,” Ben laughed, “so Santa won’t have to bring us anything else, will he, Hoss?”

    Hoss’s face fell.  “Just furniture?” he whimpered.  “No toys?  No candy?”

    Ben guffawed.  “You should see your face!”

    “Ben, you must not tease about Christmas,” Marie scolded, then bent to give Hoss a hug.  “But, of course, there will be toys and candy,” she promised.  “For such a good boy, Santa will bring many gifts, I am sure.”

    “And what should Santa bring Adam?” Ben twitted.  “A bundle of switches?”

    “Yeah!” Hoss declared, while Marie wagged a finger beneath her husband’s nose.  She did not think Adam’s naughtiness a fit subject for jokes and prayed earnestly it would end long before Christmas.

    With the arrival of the new stove, one of Adam’s chief complaints departed.  Meals improved remarkably, and Hoss finally got his promised gingercakes.  Noting his pleasure in sweets, Marie kept a well-stocked basket of cookies, and even Adam seemed to appreciate dipping into it to boost his energy when it started to flag.

    The days fell into a pleasant routine.  Ben and Adam were at the construction site most of the day, for while hired men did most of the work, Ben and his son worked alongside them, squaring timbers and hefting them into place until the shadows grew long.

    With Hoss’s help, Marie cleared and planted a small garden with seeds from Nelly Thomas’s surplus.  Planting this late, of course, they couldn’t harvest vegetables like corn and pumpkin that required a longer growing season, but before many weeks passed, fresh green beans and green onions graced the Cartwright table.  Other vegetables were available at the Thomas trading post, so Marie felt proud of the healthful meals she placed before her family.

    Evenings could still be awkward.  With them all crowded in one room, Adam’s continuing animosity was hard to ignore.  He kept a civil tongue in his mouth, at his father’s command, but his compliance was at best cold and begrudging.  Assuming his father wouldn’t want to read with him, he began to study the texts brought back from the east.

    One evening after washing the supper dishes, Marie approached Adam, who was reading at the table by lantern light.  “I have had a thought, Adam,” she suggested tentatively.  When he didn’t respond, she took a deep breath and continued.  “I know you love to learn, but it must be hard for you to study without a teacher.”

    “I get by,” Adam mumbled, turning a page.

    “Mais oui,” she said.  “I am sure you do, but I was thinking that perhaps you would like to learn the French language.  I would be glad to teach you.”

    “I don’t have any use for French,” Adam muttered.

    “But it is a beautiful language,” Marie argued, “one used in diplomacy and much fine literature.”

    “Not here,” Adam said, turning his back to her.

    Just then Adam felt a firm hand on his shoulder.  “Aren’t you cutting off your nose to spite your face, son?” his father asked gently.

    Adam squirmed.  “What’s that mean?”

    “Marie has made you a gracious offer, one you’d accept if anyone else made it,” Ben said.  “I’m sure French is one of the languages taught at the academy in Sacramento.  You could get a head start on it, if your stubborn pride would let you.”

    Adam swallowed hard.  “Pride’s got nothing to do with it,” he alleged.  “I’ve already started studying Greek, and I don’t want to tackle two new languages at the same time.”

    Ben frowned.  “I should think the one that offers a native speaker as teacher would be the better choice.”

    Adam gave his father a hard look.  “Do I have to?”

    Ben rubbed the boy’s neck tenderly.  “No, I won’t force learning on you; I just think you’re being foolish.”

    Adam slammed his Greek text.  “Look, maybe you got a point about needing a teacher,” he said.  “Not just for languages, but all these subjects.  I—I think maybe I’d like to enroll in the academy this year after all.”

    Marie paled.  She knew without being told that the real reason Adam suddenly wanted to leave home was not educational.  He wanted to get away from her.

    Ben sat in a chair next to his son.  “I thought you wanted to be here for the construction of the house.”

    Adam swirled his index finger on his pants’ leg.  “I did, but I’ll see a lot before I leave.”

    “Adam, I’m not even sure what you’re asking is possible,” Ben sighed.  “I’ve been told the waiting list for the academy is quite long, and you’d surely be at the end of it, enrolling this late.”

    “But we could try, couldn’t we?” Adam pressed.  “You’d let me go if they have room.”

    “I don’t know,” Ben said.  “I understand what this is really about, boy, and I’ve never felt problems were best solved by running away from them.  Maybe you should stay right here and work on your attitude.”

    Fire flashed in Adam’s eyes, and he cut a hard look at Marie.  “I want to go to school,” he sputtered.  “You were willing before—before—”

    “Don’t say it,” Ben cautioned.  “I’ve had quite enough of your impudence, Adam.  I will consider your request, and I’ll let yo