Dear Meg,

We’re already in Indianapolis!   Can you believe it?  The railroad makes travel so much faster and easier.  In just a few days we have gone as far as it took Papa and Adam months to travel when they first went west.  Of course, Papa stopped to take jobs along the way, but still…!  We are spending the night in a lovely hotel in this small city.  Now I can have a proper bath and wash my hair.  Stagecoach travel is dusty, but train travel is sooty.  I wish you were with me—Adam always has his nose in a book, but there is just too much to see for me to read.  There are so many interesting people on the trains.  We have switched lines a few times, but the cars are all about the same.  Adam says that some day you will be able to rent a bedroom in a train car.  Can you picture that?  He says that there are already plans for dining cars on trains that make long trips so they can make fewer stops.  That way people will be able to travel even faster, if possible!  Of course, the real purpose for the railroads is to move goods, not people.  Commerce I think they call it, but I still think that being able to move people around this big country is pretty exciting.

I cried for a long time after the train left Boston.  I had just about calmed down when Adam gave me your present.  I don’t know what to say!  I know that gray silk shawl is your favorite.  It’s so delicate and lovely.  If you had given it to me yourself I wouldn’t have accepted it.  That’s why you had Adam give it to me, isn’t it?  You always said it went better with my coloring than your own.  I’ll treasure it forever.  Thank you so much.

As I said, there are many interesting people on the train, but Adam is a regular bear and won’t let me associate with many of them.  There have been a number of young men headed west to find their fortunes.  It’s fun to speculate how many of them will succeed.  I think that the less they left behind, the more likely they are to do well out here.  There are all types of people—bankers, merchants, builders, laborers, and scoundrels.   I have spoken briefly to some of them and I realize how lucky I am to be going back to a settled home and family.

Well, dearest Meg, I must close because it is almost dinnertime.  I send lots of love to you and Aunt Beatrice.  I think of you all the time and hope you have a thought or two about me.  Adam sends his regards as well.  I’ll try to send another letter soon.  We are headed for St. Joe, where we switch to the Union Pacific Line.
 

Affectionately, Carrie

July 6, 18—

Dear Meg,
 

I’m writing this from Ft. Bridger, Utah.  We will soon begin the last leg of our journey.  Very soon they will join the railroad lines here in Utah and it will be possible to go right from the Atlantic to the Pacific on the trains.  Progress is amazing!  I don’t think I’ll be able to send you any more letters till we are home.  We have a lot of stage travel ahead of us.  The railroad is easier to build across the prairie, so more of it is done.  Those building from the West coast have to contend with the mountains so they need to tunnel through them or build bridges.  Adam says that we have sold a lot of timber off the Ponderosa for some of those bridges, so I guess we’re a part of history.  The timber on the ranch is becoming more valuable as people move west—they need to build homes, schools, hotels, stores, etc.  Anyway, after a long stretch by stage across part of Utah and Nevada we can pick up the train again and arrive in Carson City by rail!  Then it’s just a short stage ride home.  I am more and more anxious to be home.  I didn’t realize how much I missed it.

One of the first things I’m going to do is buy a horse.  I love to ride and Hoss and Adam are the best judges of stock, so one of them will help me.  After that—well, we’ll see.  I’m a bit nervous, but I guess everything will work out in the end.  Adam says the men will be beating a path to our door to meet me.  That was nice of him to say, don’t you think?  He told me in Boston that I had “turned out well”.  I love my family so much and want them to be proud of me.

How is everything in Boston?  Does little Joseph Bonelli still have his lasso?  Tony should send him out here for the summer—we’d make a real cowboy out of him!  Maybe you could bring him!  That would be the perfect excuse for you to visit me.  Think about it.

That’s all for now.  My love to you and Aunt Beatrice.  I’ll write once I’m home.  Adam sends his regards as well.  He’s as anxious as I am for this trip to be over.  I try not be too   much of a pest, but he is still annoyed about all my luggage!
 

 Affectionately, Carrie

July 26, 18—

Dear Meg,

We have been home about a week now.  I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner but things have been hectic.  One of the nicest things to receive when I got here was your nice long letter.  I’m glad that Aunt Beatrice has been seen by the doctor and is on medication.  Take good care of her.

My Papa and Hoss and Little Joe were at the stage depot to meet us.  I cried when I left Boston, and to round things out nicely I cried when I got home.  It was so wonderful to drive from town to our house and see the familiar scenery and the lake.  I know you love the ocean, but Lake Tahoe is spectacular.  It is surrounded by pines (like the Ponderosa pine for which the ranch is named) and aspens and so many other trees and shrubs.   The water is so dark blue that it’s almost black and it’s crystal clear.   Of course there was some general teasing about my baggage and Hoss said he would have to go back to town with the buckboard to bring it all back.  And Adam had to let them know that more was being shipped!  To quote Hoss, “I can’t figure out why a mite like you needs so many trunks.  We all can travel with just a bedroll and we’re a lot bigger!”  You would like Hoss—just about everyone does.  He is a BIG man—not fat, mind you, just really BIG.  He has brown hair and the friendliest blue eyes anywhere.  He’s jolly and kindhearted and gentler than any man I know.  He has a real gift with animals.  He loves them and will stay up all night to help a mare foal.  He’s as strong as an ox and his appetite is a source of constant joking around here.  Some people think he isn’t smart.  Well he may not have all the education that Adam has, but he has common sense and knowledge of ranch matters that make him smart in a different way.

My Papa hasn’t changed much.  His hair is a little whiter than it was, but he is still big and strong and imposing.  He’s an important man in this part of the country.  They even asked him to run for governor but he said he’d rather run the ranch…fewer headaches!  You don’t know the meaning of the word bellow until you’ve heard Papa when he is angry.  When I was younger I used to be slightly naughty at times and he would roar at me—yes, that’s the word—roar!  He is pretty patient, but hold your ears if he is cross!  Still, I know he loves me because he is always trying to do what is best for me.  I’m sure having a little girl dumped on his doorstep couldn’t have been easy for him.  Most people say that Little Joe got his hot temper from his mother Marie, but I think a little of Papa slipped in there too.

Speaking of Little Joe, I have decided to just call him Joe.  I mean he is almost 23 years old and not a baby anymore.   Adam was right (isn’t he always?).  Joe has changed.  He still seems to be fun-loving, but he’s more mature and takes on responsibilities around the ranch equally with the others.  He’s very handsome with curly brown hair and green eyes and has girlfriends all over the area.  He has quite a reputation as a lady’s man.  One thing that hasn’t changed is his laugh.  When Joe laughs, you have to laugh too.  I can’t describe it, but it’s hysterical.  I’m happy to say that his attitude toward me has changed. He’s being nice and treating me with respect.  He was awful to me before I went to school.

Adam, of course, needs no description.  He has been very quiet lately and got right back to ranch business.  I thought maybe he was angry with me about something, but he said he had something on his mind and it had nothing to do with me, so I shouldn’t worry.  And, as usual, he asked me to send his regards.

Papa is throwing a party for me next week (as you said he would!).  And I am starting to pester everyone about a horse.  They all have such nice mounts and I want one too.  It’s difficult right now because this is a busy time on the ranch, and as I said before there is more logging going on than ever before.  Still, they have put the word out so maybe the “perfect” horse will show up.  I am busy redecorating my room.  This house has MAN stamped all over it and I want a feminine refuge, if you know what I mean!  Write soon and give my love to all.
 

Love, Carrie

August 12, 18—

 
Dear Meg,

I got my horse!  I got my horse!  Joe found her for me.  She is a beautiful little palomino mare with a lot of Arabian stock in her.  Palomino means she is blond in color with a gorgeous flaxen mane and tail.  I named her Taffy.  Her Arabian heritage means she can run like the wind forever.  I’m thrilled with her.  When Joe took me to see her I knew right away I wanted her.  I took her out for a ride and she is incredibly responsive.  Joe said it was a shame I showed such interest in her right away—he could have made a better deal if I hadn’t been so obvious about wanting her.  Anyway, Papa came to look at her with Hoss and they all agreed she was sound so I bought her.  Then for my birthday they all bought me her tack (saddle, bridle, etc).  I thought they might get me a sidesaddle, but Adam must have told them what I really wanted.  Now I can ride away whenever I want.  She has a sweet disposition and loves to run.  Joe and I go out together sometimes and she has beaten Cochise (his horse) twice!  Well, to be fair, she beat Cochise after Cochise had been working all day, but it was a thrill anyway.  I gave Joe a great big hug when he brought her home for me.  He reacted kind of funny.  In fact he has been acting strange around me lately.  I’m not sure what his problem is but I owe him for my lovely little mare.  Maybe he was annoyed because Papa and Hoss insisted on examining Taffy before the deal was final.  Sometimes they still treat him like a kid, but he really is a man—a lot of the males his age around here are married with children!  I think the Cartwright men have something against marriage.  No, that’s not really true, but they’ve had a lot of bad luck in that department.

I was happy to hear that Aunt Beatrice is doing well on her medicine.  Give her a hug from me.  What have you been up to all summer?  Are you still attending those suffragette meetings?

It’s hard for me to believe that September will be here and I won’t be in class.  Still, I have been busy myself.  Several young men show up here each week to take me for buggy rides—all very proper you know.  And there are barn dances and church socials in town.    Females are at a premium here and most of the girls (I guess I should say women) my age are married.  However, there are two or three girls I’m friendly with.  One is the new minister’s wife.  They are both easterners and she is from New York.  I hope I have been somewhat helpful to her as she gets used to life here in Nevada.  Her name is Ruth Lundstrum and her husband is Reverend Carl Lundstrum.  We have had them to the house a few times for dinner.  I have begun to supervise the menus and I’m not sure that Hop Sing, our cook , is pleased.  But he’ll cook what I ask as long as I stay out of his kitchen!

Well, that’s all the news for now.  I think I’ll change and go for a ride!   My love to you and everybody.
 

Love, Carrie

September 10, 18—

 
Dearest Meg,

I hardly know how to begin this letter or what to say.  Louise Madden wired me about the death of Aunt Beatrice.  I am so sorry.  I wish I could be with you to give some real comfort.  This must be such a difficult time for you.  I thought the medicine was making her better.  And how awful for you to have found her!  I feel so helpless because I want to do something for you, but I can’t.  She was such a dear woman and I know that the two of you were devoted to each other.  I know I should write something like “please accept my deepest sympathy”, but those words don’t say what’s in my heart.  I mourn with you.  I’m sure you know me well enough to know the truth of that.

When I told Adam what had happened he rode right into Virginia City and wired his two college friends to make themselves available to you for whatever you might need.  One is Dave Hammond, a banker, and the other is Jack Devine, a lawyer.  Perhaps by now they have contacted you. PLEASE allow them to help you.  I know you are independent and much too proud for your own good, but at a time like this please allow your friends to be of some small service.  It won’t take away your loss or ease the pain in your heart, but it might make the tedious and depressing details that accompany death a bit easier for you.  They are both fine men and can be trusted completely.  And, selfish thing that I am, it makes me feel better to know that there is someone there with you.

Your aunt was the soul of kindness.  There is not enough paper to recount all her goodness to me.  I will treasure the memories of our times together at your house…a warm, comfortable oasis of love, especially when I first arrived.  And I will also remember the fun and the laughter that we all shared.  I do share your loss.

Now is the time to consider moving out here.  Why not just quit your job and come live with me?  I’m sure we could find something for you to do out here and there are many nice men who would be happy to keep company with you.  I guess this is the worst time to suggest it, but I’ve never been as proper as you are.  Please consider it!

I will write again soon.  Please stay in touch and know that we all think of you, dear Meg.
God be with you.
 

With love, Carrie

Sept. 25, 18—

 
Dear Meg,

First allow me to express my sympathy on the death of your aunt.  I only met her a few times, but she was a fine woman and I know she cared deeply about you and your happiness.  I can only imagine how much you will miss her.

I was happy to hear from Jack and Dave that you have allowed them to assist you with some of the details that you must deal with at this time.  They’re both good friends and you can trust them.  They will also be discreet (i.e. they won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want them to know.  This includes me.)  I was happy to be of some small service to you at this sad time.  Actually, it also brought some comfort to Carrie, who was distraught by the news of your aunt’s passing.

I know she wrote that you should come out and I agree.  She also told me that you wrote her about your responsibility to the school and Miss Collier.  I know you love Boston and you’re comfortable there with your job, your activities, and your friends.  Remember that you have friends here as well who care about you.  It’s a decision that only you can make.  I can’t see the point in pressuring you, especially not now, with all that you must contend with.  Just know that there is a warm welcome for you here whenever .

I haven’t written because of what we discussed that last day in Boston.  It’s not because I didn’t want to or because I’ve forgotten about you, my Longfellow loving friend.  Every letter that Carrie sends you brings wishes from me as well, whether she states that or not.

Speaking of Carrie, she has adjusted very well.  She has many new and old friends and it’s difficult to get out of the door with all the male callers who hang around.  I have a suspicion that something is going on very close to home, which I’m not at liberty to write about yet.  I believe I know of one young man who has set his cap for her and will be moving heaven and earth to win her.  If what I suspect is true, I think it would be a good match.  Please don’t write of this to her.  I’m not sure she’s aware of what is going on yet.  Perhaps you will get an inkling of it in her letters to you.   In the meantime, she loves her new horse and rides endlessly.  My brother, Little Joe, made a special effort to find the right mount for her.  His success surpassed his expectations.

Meg dear, I’ll close now.  You are ever on my mind…never more so than at this tragic time for you.
 

As ever, Adam

 October 28,18—

 
Dear Meg,

I haven’t heard from you in quite a while.  I didn’t want to bother you when I know that you must be busy with school and all.  I was beginning to be worried about you.  How are you doing?  I imagine that schoolwork keeps your mind occupied quite a lot, but then you have to go home to an empty house.  I think you should seriously consider taking in a boarder.  It would be company for you.

Not much has changed around here.  Of course it’s fall and the change of seasons is lovely.  New England is more colorful, I think, but the aspens here turn a yellow that is beautiful to behold.  They are rounding up the rest of the herds and getting ready to drive them to market.  Papa says that soon drives will be a thing of the past as the cattle will be loaded on rail cars and moved to market that way.  It may not be bad.  Trail drives are long, boring, and dirty.  Cattle are pretty stupid animals and must be watched constantly.  Then there is danger from wolves and coyotes.  So much for the “glamour” of the west!

I still have a number of male callers, but I think there is someone special who likes me a lot.  This is someone I never could have imagined myself with, but as I think about it, may be the perfect person for me.  If what I suspect is true, it will change the way I thought about many things in my life to this point.  Papa says I am young and should meet as many suitable young men as possible before making any decisions.  I am nineteen and girls marry a lot younger than that around here.  Still, this person has not spoken yet and I may be mistaken.  I will keep you informed!

I was disappointed that you didn’t come west after your aunt died.  I thought it was the perfect solution to everything.  Of course, I’m selfish and want you here where we can visit everyday!   Hoss says I must let you decide what is right for you.  I know he’s right, but maybe you will at least consider a visit.

Please write soon.  Say hello to everyone at school for me.
 

Affectionately, Carrie

 December 8, 18—

 
Dear Meg,

Your last letter was so short!  I worry about you.  What are you doing besides working? You must take care of yourself.  Sarah Williams wrote me that you look very thin.  She said you seem sad all the time.  If I don’t start getting some good reports soon, I’ll have to come back east and take care of you myself.

I have some news that might cheer you just a bit.  I know that it makes me very happy.  You remember that I wrote about one gentleman who I thought was particularly interested in me?  Well I was right!  Never in a million years could you guess who it is.  It’s Joseph Cartwright!  That’s right—my “brother” Joe who I used to play and fight with as a child.  Meg, he loves me!  And I love him.  If you had told me this could happen six months ago, I would have called you crazy.  But it did happen.  I can’t tell you how indescribably happy I am.

I noticed that he treated me differently from the first moment I stepped off the train this summer.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I always had the feeling he was watching me.  Now he tells me he was!  He knew in his heart that he loved me right away.  But he was so bowled over and confused by his feelings that he wasn’t quite sure what to do.  After all, he had considered me his sister for all this time.  His first move was to find Taffy for me.  Then we’d often go out riding.  He loved when I listened to his ideas and plans—I take him seriously and sometimes the others don’t because he’s the youngest.   This wasn’t because his ideas aren’t good—it’s just a habit that the other three have (Papa less so than Hoss and Adam).  So I listened to him and was impressed.  He said it just about killed him to see me go for buggy rides or dances with the others who came around, but he wanted me to have that experience so when he finally decided to approach me I would be more sure of my own feelings.

Meg, I can’t put into words how I feel for Joe.  We always got along well as children.  We only began to fight just before I left for school.  But all that has changed.  I’m a little shy to write this, but he is my soul mate.  I love him so much.  He is so good and tender to me.  Still he has his great sense of humor and, although this should not matter at all, he is the handsomest man in the world!  You should see his green eyes!

We told Papa and he was not as thrilled as I thought he would be, because of my age.  But he has agreed that we can become formally engaged at Christmas and we plan a June wedding.  I will be almost 20 then and that is plenty old enough!  Meg, you MUST come here for the wedding.  I beg you to please do this for me.  That special day will be complete only if you are here.  Maybe Miss Collier will allow you a little time off so you can get here early and spend some time with us.  I will write her about it immediately because I know that you’d never ask.  Please, please, please consider this request!

I must go because there is so much to do.  We are having a house built.  Joe will supervise it and I will pay for part of the labor from some of my inheritance.  He didn’t like that particularly, but we want a nice house and it would be difficult for him to build it himself in the winter so it will be ready for us in June.  I told him that what was mine is his and vice versa, so he very ungraciously gave in when I promised he could pay me back.  I think he is being ridiculous, but men can be so proud.  He has money of his own but not as much as the others.  Anyway, I can get around him when he’s angry, if you know what I mean!  Papa says I’m spoiled, but I don’t think so, do you?

I can’t wait to hear from you.  Write soon!  And take care of yourself!
 

Love (and in love!), Carrie

January 13, 18—

 
Dear Meg,

Thank you for the letter with best wishes.  I am so unbelievably happy that I cannot express it.  Joe is so good to me.  He gave me a lovely sapphire ring as an engagement and Christmas gift.  He says that blue is my color, so that’s why he picked sapphire.  It is so beautiful!  Sometimes when he looks at me in a special way, my insides melt like ice cream.  I won’t bore you with why I love him so. Just let me say I am the happiest woman on earth right now.  The only thing that could make me happier is knowing you will be here to see me married.  I’m glad you are seriously considering it.   Miss Collier wrote me a lovely letter and said she would encourage you to come out.  So you have no excuse not to come.

They have begun to get the materials together to begin construction on the house.  I think they will actually start to build it in March.  We have picked a spot on the ranch that is on a flat piece of land not far from one of our back roads.  There are a number of trees for summer shade and little brook that runs all year long.  Our house is closer to town than the main house, which is fine with me.  They have already begun to put up the barn.  Meanwhile, I have to think of things like linens, dishes, furniture, curtains, pots, pans, carpets, and on and on.  You know I’m not fond of sewing, but I intend to at least make my own curtains and a few odds and ends for the house.  I’m having my wedding dress made in San Francisco.  Papa is taking me there next month.  I’ve never been there so it should be exciting.

I hope the next letter from you brings good news about your decision to come here.  I know it’s a long trip, but every week it gets a bit easier due to the railroad.  My best to the Bonelli’s and everyone at school.
 

Love, Carrie

March 23, 18—

 
Dear Meg,

I behaved in a very undignified manner when I received your last letter.  I ran around the house whooping and hollering “like an Indian” Joe said.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!   I can’t believe I’ll be seeing you here at the end of May.  Miss Collier was so good to give you the necessary time off to leave school early.  I’ve decided to create a scholarship at the school in appreciation for that!

Adam said that if you want, you should let Jack D. make your travel arrangements.  It can be a bit complicated with switching lines and all.  I think you should listen to this advice.  He is so often right about these things.  Also, if I send you a list, do you think you can bring a few items west for me?  These are not for myself, but for my wonderful family.  If it is too much trouble I will understand completely.

Work on the house has begun and is progressing nicely.  Sometimes it’s hard to find laborers because spring is so busy around ranches.  That’s why we started in March.  Joe will not let me set foot in the house!  He says the first time I’m inside the house will be when he carries me across the threshold.  I’m only allowed to observe from the outside.
It’s a sweet concept but I’ll have to get someone in there to do some measuring for me!

The wedding itself will be simple.  My gown is beautiful—much better than what I could have made myself.  And San Francisco was wonderful.  Joe and I are going there for our honeymoon—two whole weeks!  You would like S.F. because you can see and smell the ocean.  Anyway, back to the wedding.  It will be a simple ceremony here at the main house and a reception here as well with all our neighbors and friends invited.  I think you’ll find our country parties a bit different from what you would experience in the east.  It will be fun to watch your reactions!

I must run.  There is more to do than I imagined.   Write soon.
 

 Love, Carrie

April 30, 18—

 
Dear Meg,

I’m glad you let Jack make the travel arrangements for you.  He wrote us that he had allowed several overnights in hotels so you can rest up and not be too worn out from your journey.    It can be tiring, but it’s exciting also.  You’ll be here in less than a month!  I pinch myself so I know I’m not dreaming.  We’ll have such fun together.

It never occurred to me to think about the expense of this trip.  I am one of the lucky people who’s never had to worry about money.   If I say I’m glad that your aunt left you a small insurance policy that helped make this possible, you won’t think me too terrible, will you?  I know that you would rather have her alive than all the money in the world, but I’m glad she did that final kindness for you.  I would have paid for your trip myself, if I thought I could convince you to accept the offer.

Thank you also for bringing those items I wrote to you about.  I just wanted to give each of the men in my life a little something from me.  I hope this will not be too much of a bother.   I suppose this is my last letter to you until I see you.  You will be leaving before more mail could reach you.  Have a safe and wonderful trip.  Don’t forget to wire us the day before you will definitely arrive.  Sometimes there are unexpected delays.  We will meet you in Virginia City the day after we receive your telegram.  Bless you dear Meg and see you soon.
 
 
 

Love, Carrie

     Meg examined the contents of her carpetbag one final time.  Her trunk had been packed and locked yesterday.  Mr. Devine himself had wrapped it with sturdy rope for the trip.  He had arrived at her house with his beautiful wife to assure himself that all was in order for her journey.  The Devines had been very kind to her in the past few months, even inviting her to dine with them a few times.  As they drove home in their carriage Jane remarked to her husband, “She looks so sad, Jack.  I hope the trip revives her spirits.  And why do you think Adam was so insistent about you helping her?  Do you think he’s interested in her or just being kind for Carrie’s sake?”

     “I don’t know, love.  Adam has always been pretty closed mouthed.  It would be a great thing for her if he decided to pursue her.”

     “Oh really!  And what about him?  She seems like a very sweet person.  He could do much worse!”

     “You’re right, of course.  I didn’t mean to belittle her.  If that’s the way things are headed I’ll say a prayer that it all works out.  Meanwhile, I’ve done my part.”

     “Do you think they could ever be as happy as we are, Jack?”

     “Impossible,” he replied as he kissed her tenderly.  “Now let’s get home to our son.”

     Meg had been stunned to learn that her aunt had named her as the beneficiary of a small insurance policy.  She had come upon the policy by accident as she went through Aunt Beatrice’s things.  It was only $5,000, but to Meg it was a small fortune.  It enabled her to pay off all her bills, update her modest wardrobe, and pay for her trip.  There was money enough left over to invest and Dave Hammond had taken care of that for her.  None of this mattered to her.  After the initial shock of her aunt’s death, she had changed drastically.  She was still cordial to her colleagues, friends, and students, but she was no longer the sunny personality she had been.  She was conscientious about her work but Miss Collier, with whom she was a favorite, was distressed to note the sadness that emanated from every pore of her body.  She was alarmed by the loss of weight that she noticed.  Meg had never been plump, but her figure was well rounded and she had a hearty appetite.  Now she was concerned about the unhealthy thinness, which she feared would lead to illness in this valued staff member.  She had spoken to her several times and Meg had always listened politely and promised to eat more.

     The truth was that everything tasted like ashes in her mouth.  Angelina Bonelli was forever sending one of the children around with some tasty dish.  Meg usually disposed of these quietly after the youngster had left.  She didn’t like to accept dinner invitations because it meant having to force down food for which she had no appetite.  She knew she should eat and had toast and coffee for breakfast and a small lunch at school.  For dinner she often had only a cup or two of tea. The little food she ate was burned off by the marathon walks she took around the city.  The minute she was home from school she would set out and walk until it was too late to be out alone safely.  She walked miles on the beach and into Boston neighborhoods she had never visited before.  As the days grew shorter, by necessity so did these walks.  She was then forced to go back to the big empty house.  She hated this part of the day the most.  Yet she refused to “impose” upon the Bonelli’s or any of her other friends who would have welcomed her to their homes.  She was independent and believed she should be able to cope by herself.  So she grew thinner by the month and Miss Collier and her other acquaintances were in despair about how they might help her.

     When Caroline wrote to Miss Collier about her impending marriage and requesting that Meg be given time off at the end of school to make the trip, the older woman took it as a sign from above.  This might be just what was needed to break through the cloud of sadness that seemed to envelop the young woman.  She could not go on as she was.

       Miss Collier called her to the office and spoke frankly but kindly to Meg.  She was thrilled when she was able to convince her to make the journey.  She did everything in her power to assure Meg that, though she would be missed, they could go on without her for the final weeks of the school year.  And she offered a prayer of thanks when Meg told her that friends of Mr. Cartwright would be helping her arrange all the details.

     Now Meg examined the daily items she would need in her carpetbag.  She hoped she had not forgotten anything, but she could buy items along the way if the need arose.  Packed at the bottom of her trunk were the gifts she had purchased for Carrie to give to the Cartwright men…all except Joe’s present.  That she would carry with her for the entire trip.  She also had two small crates of her own.  In one was a whimsical gift for Carrie and in the other a present for Mr. Cartwright in appreciation for putting her up for a month.  She tried to decide if she was excited about the journey and she decided that she wasn’t, though she would be glad to see Carrie again.  Nothing seemed to evoke an emotional response from her anymore…well nothing except the one letter that Adam had written to her.  She wasn’t even entirely sure what she felt, but she had read and re-read it hundreds of times.  All she knew for sure was that she felt something when she read it…and something was much better than the nothing in her heart the rest of the time.  Carrie’s letters were tied with a ribbon and packed in the trunk, but Adam’s letter was in her purse.  She sighed quietly.  She hoped it would be an uneventful trip.
 

      Adam swung down wearily from his horse and led him to his stall in the barn.  It had been a miserable day.  Joe was gone for the entire morning while he went with Carrie to pick up Meg.  Then he had to sack two men for drinking on the job.  Adam didn’t care if the hands got drunk in town on Saturday night.  The men worked hard and needed to let off some steam.  But it was dangerous to have men drink in the logging fields.  Everyone was told that at the outset and no exceptions were made.  This left him two men short on an already understaffed crew.  There was a contract deadline to be met and he wasn’t sure if they could meet it.  Hell, yes, they’d meet it.  They always did, but it would be close.

     He carefully unsaddled Sport and brushed him down.  He was very fond of his mount and, like everything else that was important to him, he took care of him.  He checked him over for sores and examined his hooves.  Then he led him out for a drink at the trough before settling him in his stall for the night with a ration of oats and plenty of hay.  Adam was bone weary and he knew he stank from perspiration.  A hot bath would be great, but it was 6 o’clock and dinner was scheduled for 7.  Hop Sing would not appreciate being asked to heat that much water on short notice.  He would grab some clean clothes and join his brothers down in the pond for a swim.  He’d bring some soap.  Then he’d get just enough hot water to shave in his room and that would have to do.

     No one was in the living room when he walked in and he was relieved.  He’d prefer for Meg to see him cleaned up.  He went to his room and left the house down the back stairs and through the kitchen.  The cool pond water revived him and he felt decidedly better as he shaved and dressed in his room.  He had thought long and hard about this trip that Meg had made.  She was a brave little soul to make such a long trip on her own, although he was sure Jack had planned things to be as easy as possible for her.  Adam had wired him to plan the trip as if Jane were taking it . He hoped that she would not be making a return journey.  He knew how he felt about her, but the question was, how would she feel about giving up her life in the east?  She knew him well and was right when she told him this was where he belonged.  He couldn’t force her to love this ranch as he did, but he hoped she might learn to love it as well.  He had decided to go slowly for a number of reasons.  First, he wasn’t positive if she returned his feelings, although he was reasonably sure she did.  Second, she might love him but decide she hated life in the west.  Third, if he spoke too soon and she rejected him it would be hell living under the same roof until she left.  Finally, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to court her under the noses of the rest of the family.  That privacy issue raised its head again.  So he would wait and watch her reactions to the way they lived and the things that went on.  This seemed the most prudent course of action given all the circumstances.

     He had finished tucking in his shirt and had raised his collar to begin putting on his tie when there was a knock on his door.

     “Come in.”

     Carrie opened the door and walked into the room, several hair ribbons in her hand.

     “I’m surprised to see you here.  I thought you would have attached yourself to Meg from the moment she arrived,” he remarked as he turned to look in the glass and tie the black string tie.  Adam hated ties.  These were better than the ones that were worn by men in the east, but any tie reminded him of a noose.  He’d like to meet the idiot who’d thought of them and tie his tie for him…nice and tight!  But they were dressing for dinner this first night of Meg’s visit so he’d bow to custom.  When Carrie didn’t speak, he turned to look at her.  She was beautifully dressed in a lavender gown, her hair was swept up and tied with a matching ribbon, but her face was troubled.

     “What’s the matter?  Why the long face?”

     “It’s Meg.”

     “What about her?”  He turned back to the mirror and continued to work on the tie.

     “I can’t put it into words, Adam.  She’s not herself.”  She threaded the ribbons through her fingers.

     “Can you be more specific?”

     “Well, for one thing, she’s lost a lot of weight.  She’s thin as a rail.  But that’s not it.  It’s…it’s more like the expression on her face.”

     “What about it?”

     “That’s just it…there isn’t any expression.  Whatever the spark was that made her Meg is missing.”

       “Maybe she’s just tired.  She just completed an exhausting trip.”  He had finished with the tie and moved to his bedpost to pick up his jacket.

      “I took that same trip less than a year ago and I wasn’t exhausted!”

      “The reason you weren’t tired,” he said pointedly, “is because I was .”  She made this trip alone, Carrie.  It’s not easy.”

     “Alright, maybe she could be tired from the trip.  She slept for three hours this afternoon!  But I think it’s something else.  You’re the only other person here who knows her so I just wanted you to tell me what you think after you’ve seen her.  Will you do that?”

     He shrugged into the jacket, turned, and held her by the upper arms.

     “Yes, I’ll do that.  But remember she’s had a very nasty year, followed by this trip.  She’s also by nature quieter than you are.  If she’s not running around enthusing over everything, well, that’s just not her way.”   He spoke comfortingly to Carrie but he was worried.  What if something serious was wrong?  Not much he could do now.  He’d wait and see what was to be seen at dinner.

     “Carrie!…Carrie, where are you?”

Adam froze.  Whatever else was different about Meg, her voice was exactly as he had remembered it.  He smiled down at the young woman in front of him.

     “Sounds like you’re needed elsewhere.  I’ll see the both of you at dinner and we can talk later, alright?”

     “Thanks, Adam!”  With that Carrie practically skipped out of his room, moving in the direction of Meg’s voice.

     Carrie had chattered brightly on the way home from town, but she had been stunned by Meg’s appearance.  Meg’s outfit was new and the latest fashion in travel suits, but she herself was thin and wan…a mere shadow of the woman Carrie remembered.  When they arrived at the house Joe took the trunk and carpetbag to Meg’s room and she and Carrie unpacked.  Carrie brought the gifts downstairs, to be opened after dinner and then led Meg to a bathing room near the kitchen.

     “I know how I felt when I got back last year.  Why don’t you have a nice bath and wash your hair.  Then just go up the back stairs to your room and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.  We can spend the afternoon together catching up!  How does that sound?”

It sounded perfect to Meg who was exhausted from more than just her journey.  As she slipped into the warm water, her muscles, which had seemed like they were in permanent knots for the past nine months, unwound a bit.  She lay in the water with her eyes closed and felt herself begin to relax.  She let her thoughts float away and just enjoyed the feel of the warmth surrounding her, cosseting her.  She could have stayed in that bath forever, so peaceful were her mind and soul at that moment.  But the water began to cool, so she scrubbed herself clean with the fragrant French milled soap Carrie had given her and washed her hair.  Carrie had indicated a large bucket to the right of the tub.

     “That’s rainwater.  Rinse your hair with it and it will be soft and shiny.  Use it all!”

She poured the bucket over her head and rinsed all the soap out.  She wrapped herself in a large towel and then she removed a rubber stopper from the foot of the tub.  The tub, much larger than the one she had at home, was on a little platform and a hole had been made in the bottom at one end.  A pipe had been fitted to the hole, so that a bather need only remove the rubber stopper after bathing and the water drained away through the pipe and outside, thus saving a lot of work emptying the dirty water.  Meg thought this was very clever.  She dressed in her undergarments and her wrapper and went up the back stairs to her room.

     The room was large, and as Carrie had written, masculine.  But there were lacy curtains on the windows, a large double bed, an oriental carpet on the floor and a small round table with an oil lamp on it.  A chair was near the table and a large wooden wardrobe was on one wall.  There were several pictures on the wall and Meg wondered idly if Carrie’s mother had painted any of them.  She decided to sit on the bed, comb through her wet hair, and wait for Carrie.  She couldn’t go traipsing through the house as she was.  Her eyes felt uncommonly heavy.  Aside from losing her appetite, her sleep habits had changed drastically and she woke often in the night, too awake to go back to sleep.  These nights she would read, sew, do school work, or even play the piano softly.  But now she felt relaxed and sleepy.  The tea would revive her, no doubt, but in the meantime she would lay down and rest a bit while she waited for Carrie.

     Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door.  Carrie stood outside with a cup of steaming tea and waited.  When there was no answer she knocked again.  Then she opened the door a crack and peeked inside.  Meg was fast asleep on the bed, her long hair spread out behind her.  Carrie entered the room and put the cup on the table.  She called to Meg a few times and, getting no response, was about to shake her, when she hesitated.   Then she walked to the foot of the bed and picked up the quilt which lay there.  She covered her friend, carefully removed the comb from her relaxed fingers, drew the curtains, picked up the teacup, and withdrew from the room.

     A short while before her meeting with Adam, Carrie went to awaken Meg.

     “I must have dozed off.  I’m sorry.  Have I slept long?”

     “You’ve been sound asleep for the past three hours, Meg.   I almost didn’t want to wake you for dinner, but…”

     “Three hours!   My goodness! You should have made me get up.  I must seem very rude to your father and the others,” Meg responded with alarm and embarrassment.

     “Don’t worry.  They were all out of the house and working.  They’re just back now and getting ready for dinner.  You were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.  And you look better now, too.  You have a little color in your cheeks.  I came up to help you dress and do your hair.  What will you wear?”

     “I have a new black cashmere that’s nice.”   Carrie threw a hissy fit.

     “You will not wear black to dinner tonight.  Surely you have something else.  If not, I’ll lend you something.”

     “Carrie, I’m still in mourning for my aunt,” Meg reminded her gently.   Carrie would not be swayed.

     “Oh fiddlesticks!  Your aunt would hate for you to be wearing black for her like some old widow or spinster.  I’m not saying you have to parade around in a scarlet gown, but for pity’s sake, Meg, you’re young and pretty!  Wear something nice.  Anyway, you look terrible in black.  That’s more my color and you won’t catch me wearing it tonight.”

     “How dressy do I have to be?” Meg asked, troubled.  “I mean, do you dress formally for dinner every night?”

     “For Heaven’s sake, no!  Since tonight is your first night with us, we’re “dressing”.  But even our dressing up is much less formal than what you’d find back east.  Usually the men just clean up and eat in their work clothes, unless they’re really filthy.  But we all wanted tonight to be special.  We’re even having wine with dinner, and we certainly don’t do that every night.  Now let’s see what we can find for you.”  Carrie proceeded to comb through Meg’s wardrobe.

     “Here!  This is good.  It’s dark, but pretty.  Did you just have this made?  I love the style!”   Carrie had selected a wine colored plaid with gold threads running through it.  The material was rich and the gold set off the gold flecks in Meg’s eyes.  The sleeves ended at the elbows in a two-inch ruffle of lace.  The neckline came down straight to about an inch below the collarbones and then dipped toward the cleavage in a modest “V”.  The neck was also lined in a matching lace.

      “Yes, I did have that one made.  I loved the material so for once I treated myself.  I wanted to have something especially nice for my trip here.”  Meg looked lovingly at the dress.

     “Let’s get you into it.  Dinner is at 7.  How will you do your hair?”

     “I guess a bun in the back or perhaps my snood?”

      “You’ll be the death of me!  I’ll do your hair.  We’ll pile it up and run ribbons all through it.  It’ll look wonderful.  Let me lace you up and I’ll get some ribbons from my room.”  While lacing the corset, Carrie got a better idea of just how thin Meg had become.  She vowed to herself that she would see Meg put some weight on if she had to feed her herself.  In minutes she was trotting down the hall to fetch the ribbons and have a chat with Adam.

     As the two young women descended the stairs, the four men rose from their seats.  Ben Cartwright was in his accustomed place in the fine old red leather chair beside the fireplace.  Joe and Hoss had found places on the settee and Adam was in a blue velvet high-backed chair facing his father.   He turned to watch Carrie lead her friend into the living room and over to Ben.  To his dismay, he saw that Carrie had been correct.  Not only was Meg thin, but there were dark circles under her eyes.  She looked beaten down and worn out, even though she was dressed more fashionably than he had ever seen her before.  His educated guess was that the death of her aunt had affected her far more than anyone realized.  Combine that with the pressures of her job and this long journey and it was no wonder she appeared frail.  She had born all that alone and he now remonstrated himself for not going to Boston when he had learned of her sad news.  Every excuse he had given himself at the time for not going now seemed lame.  He had considered it, but thought it unwise to pressure her at a time when there was such a drastic change in her life.  He wanted her to come to him freely and willingly…not because she was grateful to him, but because she loved him.  Perhaps it was not too late. This opportunity for her to meet his family and experience their lifestyle would help her decide the answer to the question he would put to her before she left.  Now he was more determined than ever to get her to stay.  He knew something about having an independent nature, but he believed he could teach her that you didn’t give up your independence when you let those who loved you take care of you in the dark periods that are a part of everyone’s life.  Whether she loved him or not, he could no more allow her to continue in this depressed state than he could watch a kitten drown and not try to save it.

     “Meg, this is my guardian, Ben Cartwright.  Papa, this is Meg Prescott, my dear friend and teacher.”  Meg looked up into the kind face of Ben Cartwright.  He was still a handsome man, obviously fit from ranch life, with tanned skin, beautiful white hair and piercing dark brown eyes.  He smiled broadly at her and welcomed her to the Ponderosa.  His voice was rich and deep and if she had to pick one word to describe him at that moment, it would have been courtly.  She extended her hand to him in greeting.

     “I don’t remember meeting you when I brought Carrie east to school, Miss Prescott.”

      “Please call me Meg.  I was a new teacher then, Mr. Cartwright.  I do remember seeing you at one of the family gatherings, though.  And I believe you arranged Carrie’s board with my aunt while I was in class, so we never formally met at that time.”

     “You’re right!  I do remember your aunt and I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say how sorry we were to learn of her passing,” he added as he pressed her hand warmly.

      “Thank you,” was all she answered but she gave him a look that let him know she was grateful for the sentiment.

     “And Meg, this is Hoss,” Carrie continued as she turned her friend around to meet him.  Meg found herself looking into the kindest pair of blue eyes she had ever seen.  The man was, as Carrie had written, big .  He wore a beige jacket, white shirt, and string tie.  Her hand felt lost inside his gentle grip.

     “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cartwright.  Carrie’s told me a lot about all of you.”

     “Well it’s a real pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Prescott.  This little gal,” he nodded at Carrie, “she could hardly talk about anything else for the last month except that you were comin’.  And you’d better just call me Hoss.  There’s too many Mr. Carwrights around here.  We don’t want no confusion.”

     “Thank you, Hoss.  And I’d like it if you’d call me Meg.”

     “Well I’d be pleased to do that.  We’re all tickled pink that you’re here.”

     “And, of course you’ve already met Joe,” Carrie said as Meg again met the smiling gaze of Carrie’s fiance.  This youngest Cartwright was incredibly handsome.  His brown hair curled around his ears and his green eyes were full of the same vitality and fun that could be seen in Carrie’s.  She had never seen such an expressive face.  Whatever his mood of the moment (and she noticed his moods were as volatile as Carrie’s), it showed plainly on his face.  His expressions could be comical, serious, or, whenever he looked at her former student, incredibly tender.  It was no surprise that Carrie had fallen in love with him.  His fun loving personality was readily apparent, though she thought he must also have a more serious side.

     “I hope you finally got all settled, Meg.  You can give Carrie here some lessons on traveling light.  When she got back home last summer it took two trips to town to haul all her stuff back, and that wasn’t including the things Adam had to ship out,” he teased Carrie, while addressing Meg.  Carrie poked him in the side.

     “Don’t insult me in front of my guest, Joe, or I’ll keep her amused with some of your notorious exploits.  Meg knows all my faults and she loves me in spite of them.  Do you?”  He took her in his arms and kissed her sweetly.

     “You shouldn’t even have to ask that, darlin’.  But I’ll answer the question later when we take our walk.”  The two of them were suddenly oblivious to everyone else in the room, and Meg had the uncomfortable feeling of spying on a very private moment.  The sound of a throat clearing behind her caused her to turn and almost bump into Adam’s chest.  It was impossible, of course, but he seemed taller than he was in Boston.  She looked up and he smiled at her saying, “Remember me?”   She had forgotten how wonderful his voice was—not as deep as his father’s but every bit as rich as it seeped into her ears, her mind, her heart.  She swallowed, suddenly quite shy, and she felt herself begin to blush as her pulse increased.

     “Of course I do,” she answered a bit too brightly.  “It’s nice seeing you again, Adam.”

He didn’t respond for a moment but searched her face.  The blush had brought a more becoming color to her cheeks, but her smiles never reached her eyes, which had lost their twinkle.  What he wouldn’t give to see that sparkle again and the dimple in her too thin cheek!

     Hoss interrupted any further exchange with a remark to Joe and Carrie.

     “Hey you two, there’s time enough for your kanoodlin’ later.  I’m hungry and Hop Sing’ll be madder than a hornet if we don’t sit down and eat!”

  Although she had never heard the term “kanoodle” before, its meaning was apparent.  Joe and Carrie broke apart and Mr. Cartwright offered Meg his arm as they walked into the dining room.  He sat at the head of the table and placed her to his right.  Carrie was on his left with Joe next to her and Hoss sat next to Meg.  This left Adam at the foot of the table.  A brief, but sincere grace was said, including thanks for Meg’s safe arrival and then Hop Sing, the cook, entered with the food.  While Ben Cartwright poured wine for everyone, Hop Sing offered the platter of roast beef to Meg.  She calculated that the amount of meat on the platter would have easily fed her and her aunt for a couple of weeks.  She still had no appetite to speak of and she searched desperately for the smallest piece of meat she could find.  After she had helped herself, the platter was given to Carrie and then passed along to the men.  The meat disappeared onto the plates at an amazing rate.  There was also a bowl filled with a mountain of mashed potatoes, a steaming gravy boat, glazed carrots, and a dish green beans.  A basket held fluffy biscuits and there were several varieties of pickles in small dishes.  She reminded herself that these men worked out of doors all day at hard physical labor.  They needed to eat like this.

     Never having had much contact with men, she found herself in an alien, but not unpleasant world.  There was a palpable sense of security, which emanated from the house itself.  The huge beams, the vastness of the rooms, and the sturdy furniture, not to mention the collection of rifles and shotguns in the wall, bespoke security, permanence, and safety.  Having lost this feeling of peace when she was in her own home, the ranch house was a welcomed haven.  Always a keen observer of people, Meg thought it would be interesting to see what life was like in this all-male household, of which Carrie was now to become a permanent part.

The wine helped her relax and afforded her something of an appetite so she could eat enough and not offend her host.  The food was delicious.

     “Mr. Cartwright, these carrots are so good.  There’s something different in them, but I can’t place it.  Would your cook share his secret?”  Ben beamed at her and called out for Hop Sing.  The Chinese cook scurried in and Ben said, “Well, Hop Sing, it seems Miss Prescott is especially fond of the carrots.  Do you put something special in them?”

     “Missa Cartwright, I always put some ginger in.  Taste good and good for stomach!  Have to worry about stomach of Missa Hoss…he eat so much!”  This brought a round of good-natured laughter from the table, including Hoss himself.

     “You don’t have to worry about the condition of my stomach, Hop Sing, unless it’s empty!”  Meg couldn’t help but notice that the man next to her had put away an amazing amount of food.  “Anyway, dinner was good, but what’s for dessert?”

     “Missa Hoss, I make one of your favorites…apple pie.  I take these plates and serve it now.  You just wait.”  And while he spoke, Hop Sing cleared the table.

     “Meg, did you meet any interesting people on your trip?” Carrie wanted to know.  All eyes were on her as she thought about her answer.

     “Well, between New York and St. Joe I met a young woman about my age who was traveling with two small children.  Her little girl was about five years old and the little boy was about two.  The woman’s husband worked for the railroad and she was traveling out to meet him.  They were going to file on some land in one of the Dakotas, I believe.  Anyway, it was difficult for her to travel with these two children.  The little girl didn’t behave and ran up and down the cars, disturbing the other passengers.  Her mother was embarrassed, but there wasn’t much she could do, because the little boy kept her very busy.  I offered to help her with the girl and she seemed grateful.  I told her to buy a slate at one of the stops.  By the end of the three days we were together on the train, the child had learned the alphabet and her numbers.  I’m sure she could have recited the first page of the primer too.  She was a smart little thing and had been bored.  All she needed was to be engaged in some activity and she was fine.  The mother thanked me as we went our separate ways.”  Here Meg paused and Hoss remarked, “Well that was right clever of you to think of how to manage that child.”

     “Not at all, Hoss.  You see I knew exactly what I was doing.  After all, I had already had considerable experience in taming another wild little girl.”  She stopped talking and popped another piece of carrot into her mouth.  There was a burst of masculine laughter around the table as everyone looked at Carrie.  Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

     “Meg!  How can you say such a thing!  I was never wild,” she answered in protest as the pie and coffee was served.

     “Does your family know that you tried to run away twice that first year?”

     “Not until now,” Ben broke in.  “I never suspected that you were that unhappy, Caroline.  You never let on in your letters.”

     “Well, it took a while for me to adjust.  But, don’t worry, Papa.  It was the best thing to happen to me.  Looking back, I can say that now for certain.”  Joe pretended to look offended.

     “Hey, I thought I was the best thing to ever happen to you”

     “Oh, silly, I meant up to that point in my life it was the best thing to happen.  Nothing can ever, now or in the future, compare to having you in my life.”  She turned and looked at him with complete love and devotion and once again they seemed to be in their own special place.  Meg observed this with joy and a touch of envy.  It must be a beautiful thing to have someone care that way for you.  She thought at some time Adam might, but now she was not so sure.  He had been polite, but rather quiet.  Well, what did she expect? She had only arrived and they hadn’t had any time together.  She mustn’t hope too much or she could be disappointed…more than disappointed.  While these thoughts raced through her mind, her face began to wear that sad expression again and she sighed.

       Adam had been watching her closely throughout the meal.  She had avoided looking at him directly and he wasn’t sure what to make of that.  She had pulled her coffee cup closer to her and she now appeared to be daydreaming as she watched Joe and Carrie.  Silently he slid the sugar bowl past his brother Hoss who was busily stuffing himself with pie and relating a story about some stock to their father.  Meg, distracted from her musings by the movement, stared down at the bowl which was now directly in front of her.  She gazed at it for a moment and then slid her eyes to the right and up to meet Adam’s.  He gave her a slow wink.  And then it happened.  She smiled her first real smile at him, while they silently shared their private little joke.  The smile lit up her face and her eyes twinkled.  She bit her bottom lip so she wouldn’t laugh out loud.  And he was delighted to note that the dimple was still there.  She placed two heaping spoons of sugar in her cup and stirred, the smile still playing around her lips.  He felt like leaping across his brother Hoss and grabbing her.  Since he couldn’t do that he amused himself by thinking about how he would pursue and win her, because win her he would.  It might take a bit of time.  She obviously needed to heal from the trauma of the past year, but Adam could be a patient man when he needed to be.  He had waited this long…a little longer wouldn’t matter.  Then she would be his for the rest of his life.

     Carrie broke the spell by demanding that they go into the living room because she had presents for everyone.  Ben courteously held Meg’s chair and they took their coffee cups with them into the other room.  A fire was burning in the massive fireplace and Meg noted that the temperature outside had dropped quite a bit from the afternoon.  The warmth in the room came not only from the crackling logs, but also from the people gathered around the flames.  These were people who had a true affection for each other.  They knew each other well, tolerated each other’s idiosyncrasies, supported each other and were, in general, completely comfortable with each other.  That atmosphere soothed Meg’s wounded spirit like a comforting balm.

     Carrie presented Ben with a pair of finely made pipes and a pouch of expensive tobacco.  He enjoyed an occasional smoke after dinner and these pipes were better than anything he could find locally.   For Hoss she had a new pair of boots made of buttery soft leather.  They were a perfect fit and there was a lot of speculation about how she managed to get him the correct size.  She had them all chuckling when she said she sneaked into his room and traced his feet while he was asleep!

     “You know how soundly Hoss sleeps,” she said.  “Well, he was snoring away…you can thank me,Meg…I put you as far away from his room as I could or else you’d never get any sleep…and I just uncovered his feet, held up the paper, and traced.  He never even wiggled a little bit!  I sent it to Meg and she took care of the rest.”  A book of poems by Tennyson was her gift to Adam.

     “I wasn’t sure what kind of book to buy you, so I let Meg choose.  Do you have this one?” she asked anxiously.  She wanted each present to be as perfect as possible.

     “No, I don’t, Carrie.  Thank you.  But you took a real chance in letting Meg make the selection.  She might have brought me the complete works of Longfellow.”

     “Would that have been bad?” she asked.

     “No!”

     “Yes!”

They spoke simultaneously and then began to laugh.

     “I thought Tennyson was a nice compromise between Longfellow and Whitman.  I hope you approve,” Meg said to him.

     “I approve completely.”  He gave her that direct stare of his and she felt the familiar butterfly sensation inside.  Had she known what he was thinking at that particular moment, she would have blushed, but she was fortunately distracted by Carrie who was urging Joe to open his small package.  Meg had searched long and hard for this particular gift.  Money had not been an object and Carrie had dictated the inscription.

     Inside the small gift box was a solid gold pocket watch.  Etched into the gold was a scene from a typical New Orleans street.  The inscription was in script on the inside of the watch cover…Joe, You Are Forever in My Heart, Love, Carrie.  Joe was too moved for words for a moment.  The New Orleans scene was a reminder of his mother’s birthplace and her heritage.  The inscription was a sentiment that they had often expressed to each other in the last few months.

     “Carrie, I don’t know what to say.  It’s beautiful,” he remarked quietly.  She could tell that her gift had had the intended effect.

     “Joe, I know you won’t probably wear it much around here, but I wanted you to have something extra special.  Just knowing you own it and like it is enough for me.  And anyway, we can take it on our honeymoon.  You can use it whenever you have to get dressed up.”  She went to him and put her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest.   Then she tilted her head up and he gave her a kiss.  Meg was somewhat surprised at this public display.  There was nothing wrong, of course, since they were engaged, but she knew that this would be very uncommon back east.  Then she remembered what Adam had said about things being different here and she supposed that this was one of them…a freedom to express yourself more openly than she had experienced before.  And the way they looked at each other!  Somewhere, from the recesses of her mind, a word emerged.

     “Poleaxed!”

     Hoss began to guffaw loudly.

     “Where’d a little city gal like you learn that word?” he asked her, still laughing.

     “What word?” she asked him, unaware she had spoken out loud.

     “Poleaxed…you were looking at Carrie and Joe and you said it…you know, the way they look at each other…poleaxed.”

     She blushed with confusion.  Then she caught a glimpse of Adam from the corner of her eye.  He was smiling and said to her, “Are you going to tell him or should I?”  The others were watching her expectantly.  She smiled ruefully and explained.

     “I have some friends in Boston…the Bonellis.  They’re a large Italian family and their oldest child is a fifteen–year-old boy, Anthony.  Your brother Adam met the entire family and told me he thought that young Anthony was…umm…had a…umm…felt…,” she stammered.

     “I said that he was in love with you,” Adam supplied.  Then he addressed Hoss.  “The kid was mooning over Meg and I mentioned to her that he looked poleaxed.  She didn’t know what the word meant so I explained it to her.”  Then he turned back to Meg.  “And just how is young Mr. Bonelli these days?”

     “He’s fine.  His…attentions… have tuned elsewhere,” she answered shortly.

     Adam smiled an incredibly self-satisfied smile.

     “So I was right about that too,” he murmured

     Joe made a face.  “Oh great!   Just what we need.  Older brother is right about something else.  He’ll have to buy a larger hat soon, his head is getting so big.”

The joking remark gave Meg a little more insight into the dynamics of this interesting family and into Adam’s personality.  He was smart and he liked being right.  And he was sometimes smug, which obviously annoyed his little brother.

     “Carrie, would you like to see what I’ve brought for you?” she inquired, wanting to change the subject and forestall any remarks from Carrie.

       “You brought me something?  Of course I want to see it.  Where is it?” she answered excitedly.  Meg pointed to a crate that was about four feet high and about a foot square.

     “Joe, go get some tools and open this.  Hurry!”  Carrie ordered.  Joe was back in a short time and quickly opened the packing crate.  Then, on Meg’s instruction, he dumped the crate upside down to let the contents slide out.  When Carrie saw what it was, she squealed with delight.

     “A hammock.  How wonderful!  I love it!”  She pranced around while Hoss and Joe unrolled it and then held up the ends.

     “Oh, this is different from the one in your backyard, Meg.”

     “Yes, this one has those spacer bars between the ropes so it’s easier to get in to.  I know you enjoyed ours, so I thought you might like one for your new home,” replied Meg, happy that this gift had been a success.

     Ben remarked, “I spent many a night in one of these when I was sailing.  It brings back memories.”

     “My father was a ship’s captain and he hung a hammock in our yard for my brother and me.  When I was a little girl I spent a good deal of the summer in it, waiting for my father to return from his current voyage, reading, and dreaming little girl dreams.  On very hot nights my brother Jesse used to sleep outside in it.  And Carrie seemed to like it.  She spent a lot of time in ours, especially that first summer, when she hadn’t yet made many friends.”

     “Carrie, you better not be selfish now.  You’re gonna let all of us use this ain’t ya?” Hoss asked her.

     “Of course I will.  You needn’t even ask.  But I want to put it up at our house, Joe.  I’m sure there must be a good spot.  We have quite a few trees surrounding the house.  And you’ll need to get hooks to hang it,” Carrie directed in a delightfully bossy manner.

     “Alright, sweetie.  I think the hooks are right here on the floor,” he answered her, bending over to pick them up.  “I’ll hang it tomorrow.  You’re going to bring Meg around to see the house then, aren’t you?”

    “Yes.  Tomorrow’s Saturday and everyone only works till lunch, Meg, unless we’re exceptionally busy.  So Joe will be working on the house in the afternoon and we’ll drive over then.  Alright?”

     “Whatever you want, Carrie.  I’m looking forward to seeing your new home.”  Meg walked over to the round table near the foot of the stairs and placed her hand on a wooden crate placed there.

     “Mr. Cartwright, I brought this for you to thank you for having me as a houseguest this month,” she addressed him.

     “My dear, you didn’t have to do that.  We’re delighted that you decided to come.  You’ve actually done us a favor.  Carrie was becoming impossible to live with.  All she did was talk about you!” he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes.

     “Oh, Papa!  You know that’s not true,” she protested, laughing.   “Now open your present.  I’m dying of curiosity.”

     Meg had packed this gift herself and watched over it every moment of the trip.  When they arrived at the house she had Joe bring it to her room so she could uncrate it and check for any damages.  She was greatly relieved to see it had made the trip in perfect condition.  Ben opened the crate, removed a lot of packing material, and lifted out a bottle about 18 inches long and 10 inches in diameter.  Inside the bottle was a model of a clipper ship in full sail.  There was an incredible amount of detail to be seen, including small coils of rope on the deck, tiny water barrels, minute ship implements, and thin string rigging.  The material for the sails had apparently been starched so the effect was that the ship was moving along at a brisk rate.  It was beautiful.  The eldest Mr. Cartwright was momentarily speechless.  It was his second son who spoke first.

     “Well, dadburn it, if that ain’t the cleverest thing I ever seen.  How’d they get that ship inside there?”  Ben finally found his voice.

     “Meg, this is beautiful!  I used to be first mate on a ship very similar to this, many years ago.  Did you know that?”

     “Yes, Mr. Cartwright.  I’d heard about that from both Carrie and Adam.  That’s why I thought this might please you.  There’s a home for retired seamen in Boston…you know…for seamen who have no families.  Anyway, the men make some money by crafting these ships and other items.  They also do a lot of work with whalebone and ivory.  I sometimes volunteer down there in the kitchen and this caught my eye.  I’m so happy you like it.”  She fished around in the crate and pulled out a wooden stand.

     “Here’s the stand for it so you can place it on any flat surface.  And to answer your question, Hoss, I believe they actually build the ship in the bottle with special tools.  It’s quite an art I think.”

      While the others were examining and admiring the ship, Adam moved over next to Meg and said quietly, “Well, you’ve won over my father.  Those sailing days of his youth were some of his happiest.  And I’m sure it must bring back a memory or two of my mother and grandfather.”  Meg looked up, startled.

     “It wasn’t my intention to “win over” anybody,” she answered him.  He smiled down at her.

     “I know.  But you’ve done it just the same.”  Before she had time to challenge him about that cryptic remark, Joe turned to Carrie and said, “Darlin’, isn’t it about time for our walk?”

     “Uh huh.  Meg, do you want to come with us?  We take a walk every night about this time.”

     Meg was about to answer in the affirmative when she from the corner of her eye she caught Adam almost imperceptibly shaking his head.

     “Thanks, Carrie, but I don’t think so.  If it’s alright with you I’ll just stay here.”

     “Okay.  We’ll be back in a while.”  While Carrie was putting on her shawl, Ben said to Meg, “If you don’t mind, my dear, I have some paper work to do.  And Joseph,” he said sternly, “remember… half an hour!”  He then moved to his desk in an alcove off the main room.   In a moment the young pair was out the door.

     “Now you’ve won over my little brother.  You’re on your way to conquering this entire family,” Adam said to Meg.

     “What are you talking about?” she asked him, puzzled.

     Hoss enlightened her.  “After those two got engaged you couldn’t hardly turn a corner around here without findin’ them in a clinch.”

     “Clinch?”

     “Embrace,” Adam translated.

     “Oh,” Meg nodded and smiled.

     “So Pa told ‘em they could have a half hour walk alone together every night if they’d try and keep their hands off each other in our presence.  If you’d gone out tonight, I doubt that Joe woulda appreciated it very much.  That’s what Adam means.”

     “But I saw them…uh…embrace at least twice tonight!”

     “Oh that wasn’t hardly nothing…just a quick little kiss.  No, they used to…um…um,” he stammered and began to blush.  “Well, it was downright embarrassin’ sometimes.  That’s all I got to say.  Now they have some privacy.”

     “For their kanoodling?” she asked him teasingly.  And the big man just threw back his head and laughed out loud.

     “And now she’s conquered my other brother,” Adam thought to himself with a smile.  He was pleased his family liked her and she seemed to like them as well.

     “Meg, do you know how to play checkers?”  Hoss asked her as they sat down on the settee.  Adam threw a couple of logs on the fire, seated himself in the leather chair and was thumbing through the Tennyson poems.

     “Yes, I know how to play,” she smiled at him.

     “Well how about a game right now?  The board’s all set up and I can just bring it over here to the table.”

     “That would be fun.  I’m not a very good player, but I’ll do my best.”  While Hoss was getting the game Adam said to him, “Don’t let her win, Hoss.  She’ll be insulted if you don’t play your best.  At least that’s what she told me when I taught her to play chess.”

     Meg gave him a look that caused him to chuckle.  Hoss placed the board on the table and pulled the blue chair over.  Meg slid to the corner of the settee and they began to play.  The fire crackled cheerfully and the room was warm and quiet.  Hoss beat her easily the first game and seemed almost apologetic about it.  He reset the board and she played better this second time.  He took some time to consider his next move and she placed her elbow on the arm of the settee and rested her head in her hand while she waited.  She felt so completely at ease and peaceful.  She was full of good food and wine. Her eyes grew heavy and she fought a losing battle to keep them open.

     “Hoss!”

     “Dadgum it, Adam, can’t you see I’m concentratin’?”  Checkers were serious business to Hoss.

     “Hoss, you’re taking too long.  You’re losing your opponent,” his brother replied.

     “What in tarnation are you…”  Hoss looked up to see Meg asleep with her head still resting on her palm.  “Poor little thing.  She’s just plum tuckered out, Adam.  Think I should carry her upstairs?”

     “No, no, no, no,no.  Just wake her up gently.  Don’t startle her.”

So Hoss crouched down in front of Meg and shook her arm.  She opened her eyes slowly and asked, “Is it my move?”

     “The only move you should be makin’ little lady is up to bed.  You just fell asleep on me!”  She was clearly embarrassed.

     “I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what’s the matter with me.  You must think I’m terribly rude.”

Adam walked over to her and, taking her by her upper arms, pulled her into a standing position.

     “The only thing we think is that you’re terribly tired.  Look, why don’t you go on up to bed.  You look exhausted.”

     “But the game,” she protested.  “I can just finish this one game.”

     “You go to bed.  I’ll finish the game, which will please Hoss.  He’s a better checkers player than I am and he’ll probably win.  Go on now.  No arguments.”  He walked her to the foot of the stairs.

     She stifled a yawn and then agreed.  She bade everyone goodnight and asked Adam to make sure Carrie got her up early in the morning.  Then she climbed the stairs and found her room.  She undressed quickly and crawled into the comfortable bed.  She was sound asleep almost before her head touched the pillow.
 

    Carrie breezed through the door and immediately asked, “Where’s Meg?”

     “She went to bed, Carrie, doll.  She was so dang tired she fell asleep in the middle of a checkers game,” Hoss answered her.

     “Bed!  For pity’s sake, she slept for three hours this afternoon.”  She walked over and sat down by Adam.

     “Something’s wrong isn’t it?  She’s not herself.  She always had so much energy.”

     “I think something’s bothering her, but I’m not sure what.  Why don’t you try and find out?” Adam asked.

     “I’m no good at that sort of thing, Adam.  I’ll just say, “What’s wrong” and she’ll say “Nothing”, because she thinks she’s so strong and independent.  Can’t you try and find out?”  He looked at her and sighed.

     “Alright, I’ll try.  But I think you should just treat her as normally as possible.  Don’t bother her with questions.  Just let her talk about whatever she wants to talk about.  Maybe she’ll just say something on her own accord.”

     “Thanks, Adam!  I’ll do that.”  Carrie smiled broadly.

     “Where’s Joe?” Ben asked her, though he was pretty sure he knew why his youngest son hadn’t come in with Carrie.

     “He said he wanted to check on Cochise,” she replied.

      Ben doubted that Joe was anywhere near the horse.  He was probably walking around in the cool night air trying to calm down after and exciting “walk” with his fiancee.  These two were young and hot blooded and very much in love.  It was a constant source of worry to Ben that they might jump the gun.  He had caught them more than once in an inappropriate situation.  He had had several discussions with Joe, but it was too difficult for him to speak to Carrie.  His relationship with her had changed since she returned from Boston.  In many ways she was a mature young woman, but she was still impetuous, bossy, and somewhat spoiled.  He would breathe a sigh of relief when they were well and truly married.

     “Well, I’m going up.  Don’t stay up too late.  It may only be a half day of work tomorrow, but I want to get an early start.”  They all said goodnight and Ben climbed the stairs to his room.

Meg sat on the porch that ran in front of the house, shelling peas.  She was wearing a new pink housedress, sprigged with little green leaves.  Having awakened embarrassingly late, she had simply bundled her hair into a dark snood and affixed a pink bow to the top of her head.  It was a lovely morning.  The air was cool and dry and smelled of spring and horses.  The sky was a vivid blue and puffy clouds whisked along high above.  She was just about to take a break and walk to the side of the house for a better look at the mountains, when she heard hoof beats.  She assumed it was Carrie returning from her morning ride.  To her surprise Adam rode into the yard on a beautiful red horse with a white blaze and white stockings.  He walked the animal to the hitching post situated to the left of the house, swung easily out of the saddle, and looped the reins loosely around the crossbar.  As he walked toward her, he removed his hat and slapped it a few times against his thigh to remove the dust.  She felt as if she was seeing him for the very first time.

     This man appeared very different from the Adam Cartwright she had known in Boston or even the nicely dressed gentleman at dinner last night.  He was wearing black pants and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.  His top collar buttons were opened, revealing a mat of dark, curly hair.  He walked with an easy, rolling gate.  But most differently of all, he wore a heavy black leather gun belt low on his waist and strapped to his right leg.  She surmised these were his working clothes and she wondered over the necessity of the gun.  What she saw confirmed what she had felt all along.  This man belonged here, not in the city.  It was apparent in every molecule of his being, from the way he sat his horse to the way he dressed and walked.  He might occasionally long for that which the city had to offer, but, as she had told him on the beach, his soul was on this ranch.

     “Well here’s a sight we don’t see often enough around here,” he greeted her as he walked over to the porch and sat at her feet.

     “What sight?”

     “A beautiful woman sitting on the porch and….what are you doing?” he frowned.

     “Shelling peas for dinner.  Doesn’t Carrie sit on the porch?”

     “As you may have noticed, Carrie doesn’t sit still very long anywhere.  She’s too busy running around giving orders.  Why, may I ask, are you shelling peas?”

     “I asked Hop Sing if I could and he let me.”

     “Well, he shouldn’t have.  You’re a guest.  You shouldn’t be doing his chores.”  He seemed angry.

       “Adam, please don’t be mad at him.  I kind of tricked him into letting me do it.”  He regarded her doubtfully and she continued, “No, really…I did.”

     “I’m listening,” was his response.  She sighed and hoped he wouldn’t be difficult about this.

     “Well, you see, Carrie didn’t get me up this morning like I wanted her to.  You did give her the message, didn’t you?”

     “No, I forgot.”

     “Well, that explains it, I suppose.  She let me sleep late.  What time did I go up last night?”

     “Around 9:30.”

     “I can’t believe it!  I slept for 12 hours.  I don’t think I’ve slept that long since I was an infant!  She should have made me get out of bed.”

The image of Meg in bed was doing wicked things to Adam’s libido, but he cleared his throat and said, “If you slept that long, you probably needed the sleep.”  He had noticed that the dark circles under her eyes were less pronounced this morning.  In fact, she looked much less haunted than she had yesterday.

     “Maybe, but I can’t go on being lazy like that.  It’s not like me at all.  I’ll have to have a talk with her.”

     “What’s all this got to do with shelling peas?” he pursued.

      “Well, I came downstairs at about 10 this morning and no one was around.  I went into the kitchen and Hop Sing was working.  I saw the peas and asked if I could help him.  He turned me down flat and said that Carrie had gone off on her morning ride and was stopping at a neighbor’s house briefly.  She had instructed him to make me breakfast and see that I ate it, if she wasn’t back.  I told him I didn’t want anything.  Anyway it was almost lunchtime and if I ate, it would spoil my appetite.  Then he started speaking very fast in Chinese.  I think he was angry or worried or something.  So I told him that if I could shell the peas I’d eat some toast and have some coffee.  Then he could tell Carrie I’d eaten, but it wouldn’t be so much as to fill me up so I couldn’t eat lunch.  I thought it was a clever solution and he was satisfied with that.  That’s why I’m shelling peas.  I was just looking for something to do while I waited for Carrie.  I would have been bored otherwise.”  And she gave him a happy little smile.

     He scratched his eyebrow and said, “Well, Hop Sing is off the hook, but what about you?  Did you keep your end of the bargain?”

     “I’ll have you know that I never break my word.”  And she pointed to the empty dish on the table beside her.  In fact, the Chinese cook had toasted two thick slices of bread and smeared them with fresh butter.  He placed them on a tray with a dish of strawberry preserves, the coffeepot, a cup, cream and sugar.  Then he settled her on a small rocking chair next to the table and left her to finish his other work.  She thought she had no appetite, but the food was attractively served and she finished all the toast and two cups of coffee before she knew it.  She had commenced shelling the peas just before Adam rode in.

     “Is there any coffee left?” he asked.

     “Plenty.  Wait…I’ll go in and get you a cup.”

     “Stay put.  I’ll use yours if you’re done with it.”

     “I’m done but there may be a little sugar in the bottom,” she warned him with a smile.

He reached for the cup and the coffeepot.  He poured a little of the liquid into the cup, swirled it a bit, then tossed it into the dirt.  Then he filled it and took a sip.  She watched him the entire time.  There was something …something intimate about sharing the same cup.  His large hand almost engulfed the china.  She felt the familiar butterfly sensation again, so she asked, “Is it alright?

     “It’s fine.”  He took a few more sips, sitting quietly while she rocked gently and continued her task.  Then he turned, looked at her, and said, “Tell me about your aunt’s death.”

 She was startled.  Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that.  He saw the look on her face and added, “I’m sorry. I meant to say tell me about it if you can.  Is it too painful to talk about?”

She hesitated a minute.

     “No, I can talk about it.  What did you want to know?”

     “Everything.  Start at the beginning.  I know from your letters to Carrie that she had some sort of heart condition and was taking medicine.  I know she died in her sleep and you found her.  Start there.”

      She hesitated again, but his eyes were kind and expectant, so she began.

     “Aunt Beatrice and I had a little ritual.  Carrie knew about it.  You see, I’m a very early riser.”  Here Adam cleared his throat and smiled.

     “Well I am!  Today was very unlike me and it won’t happen again, you can be sure.  Anyway, on Saturdays she let me sleep later and brought me a cup of coffee in bed.  It was the Saturday before school was due to start and I woke up surprised that she hadn’t been in to wake me and bring me my coffee.  I went downstairs and checked the kitchen, but she wasn’t around.  The doors were still locked and the curtains drawn.”  She paused here and sighed.  “I think I knew then that something was terribly wrong so I went to her room and she appeared to still be asleep.  I tried to wake her up but…” Meg’s voice grew low and she stared off as if watching the events of that morning in her mind.

        “I was frantic.  I ran out the front door and Mr. Farley, the constable was down the street.  He came with me, saw her, and told me he thought she had died, but to be sure he sent for the doctor.  Everything from that point on is like a blur.  I know the house was full of people—Angelina Bonelli was there in an instant.  Decisions were made and everyone was very kind.  They sent for the undertaker.  I asked them to let me have a moment with her alone and they did.  She looked so peaceful, Adam…just like she was sleeping.  Dr. Banks told me that her heart had just stopped and she went without any suffering.  I was grateful for that, at least.  I couldn’t even cry then.  The doctor told me I was suffering from shock.  She was laid out in the parlor and I can’t tell you how many people came to pay their respects.  She had so many friends.  It shouldn't have surprised me because she was such a good person.”

     Adam thought that many of the people who came did so out of affection and concern for Meg, but he didn’t want to interrupt her, so he remained silent.

     “As I said, there were people in the house all the time.  She was buried the day school began.  Miss Collier insisted that I take some time off, so I did take a few days.  There was a lot to attend to.”   Here she turned her gaze to Adam and said, “I can never properly thank you for asking your friends Mr. Hammond and Mr. Devine to assist me.  They were wonderful!  They were patient and explained things to me and took much of the burden of those days from my shoulders.  Later they both had me to dinner at their homes and their wives were incredibly kind to me.  I can’t say how much I appreciated their help and your thoughtfulness in sending them.”

     Adam simply nodded.  She was speaking freely and he didn’t want her to get side tracked.  She looked off into the distance again and continued.

     “I returned to school and tried to resume my regular routine.”  Adam noticed a subtle change in her now.  She seemed slightly agitated, placing the bowl of peas on the table and pleating and unpleating the material of her dress in her lap as she spoke.

     “After school, I couldn’t bring myself to go home.  I would stay later and later.  Then, when I absolutely had to leave, I’d walk on the beach or around the city.  I didn’t have any particular destination in mind.  I just…I just couldn’t go back to that big empty house.   When I finally would go back, I’d light a fire and sleep on the sofa in the parlor.”

She paused and looked at him again with troubled eyes.

     “It’s so ironic.  Every once in a while I have to get away by myself…to be alone with my thoughts.  It was a difficult thing to do because of the demands made on me by me job and my other responsibilities.  But I would find a way to be alone periodically.  Mostly I’d go to the beach.  It was something I needed.  Now I’m alone all the time and I hate it.  It terrifies me.”  At this point two large tears rolled down her cheeks.  They were followed by others—large pear-shaped drops that flowed over her lower lids and coursed down her face.  She didn’t sob.  She just sat there slowly rocking, more tears spilling onto her cheeks, and her hands working in her lap.  Adam wanted more than anything to take her in his arms, to comfort and reassure her, but he thought she was very close to the source of her pain and decided the allow her to finish speaking, uninterrupted.  She looked off into the distance again

     “I never thought I’d hate my house.  It’s always been a haven for me, but now I can’t stand to be inside it, especially at night.  When I finally do go to sleep, I have nightmares.  I can never remember what they’re about, but I’ll sleep for a few hours and then wake up suddenly.  My heart is racing and a feeling of terror possesses me.  Sometimes I can go back to sleep…sometimes I can’t, so I light the lamps and try to keep busy until the sun comes up.  Last night was the first uninterrupted sleep I’ve had in months.”  She stopped and looked at him, smiling a wobbly little smile.  She took a handkerchief from her pocket and mopped her tears.

     “I shouldn’t be telling you all this, Adam,” she said, apologetically.  “It’s embarrassing.  I think it shows what a weak-willed person I really am.  Everyone has to deal with death.  I should be stronger.  Actually, I’m very lucky.  I have a lot of friends, a good job, and now some financial independence.  I just can’t understand what’s gotten into me.”

     “You need someone to take care of you,” he stated flatly.  She bristled at the suggestion.

     “That’s not so!  I’ve been taking care of myself for years…my aunt too!”

Adam smiled, noting that her feistiness hadn’t completely disappeared.

     “Listen, Meg, everyone needs someone to take care of them now and then.  It’s a fine thing to be independent, to believe in yourself and know that you can take care of yourself.  But letting others share your burden once in awhile doesn’t make you weak.  It allows you to recover and be even stronger ultimately.  It’s the same as if you had been physically ill.  You need to rest and recuperate for a while before you can go on.”  He stopped to see if she would react, but she said nothing so he continued.

     “You told me you had no other family beside your aunt.  The two of you shared that house since you were a little girl.  Every time you step through the doorway, it’s a reminder to you that you have no more living relatives.  That’s got to be an incredibly lonely feeling.  And as you’ve found out, being alone is sometimes a good thing, but being lonely never is.”

    At this point her face crumbled and she bent over weeping into her hankie.  He knew he had struck a nerve.  She was terrified of being alone in the world.  She had friends, but that wasn’t the same as family…at least not in her eyes.  He put the cup down, got up and pulled her into his arms.  As he held her he felt the stirrings of feelings other than compassion.  He knew this was neither the time nor the place for a romantic overture on his part, but good Lord, she felt wonderful in his arms…as if she had been created especially for him.  He held her while she cried herself out, stroking her back and murmuring softly to her.  When it seemed as if the worst of the storm had passed, he sat her down next to him on the porch, took her hands in his, and said, “If Carrie had still been living with you, I don’t think this would have happened.  You would have mourned your aunt, but you love Carrie like a sister…you think of her as a sister.  You wouldn’t have felt as abandoned as you do now.  You wouldn’t have been frightened to be in the house because you wouldn’t have been alone.  And you’re making yourself worse by trying to come up with all kinds of reasons why you shouldn’t be unhappy.”

     “I keep thinking about that old saying, ‘I cried because I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet’.  I’m luckier than many people,” she objected.

     “Sweetheart,” he couldn’t help it… the endearment just slipped out naturally. “Someone else’s greater pain doesn’t negate your own.  You’re not selfish to feel badly about what’s happened to you.”

     She sniffed, wiped her eyes again, and blew her nose.  She looked up at him through damp eyelids.

     “What should I do now?” she asked with a hiccup, sighing deeply and waiting for his response.

     “I think you need to allow yourself the luxury of being pampered a bit.  I know that you think of yourself as independent…and you are.  But why not let us take care of you for a while?  Don’t think ahead.  Just enjoy your stay here.  Carrie has plans for you, I’m sure.  Let her boss you around for a while.  Reverse roles.  You be the student and let her be the teacher.  She’ll enjoy it, and it may be just what you need…to let someone else make decisions for you for a little while.  When you’re feeling better, you can make plans for yourself.  How does that sound?”

     To Meg it felt as if a huge burden had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.  Perhaps it was only temporary, but Adam was right.  She needed a rest and she needed to regain her physical strength and natural good spirits.  She wanted to look forward to something again instead of dreading each day.

     “Well, I suppose I could try it for a while,” she conceded, “but I don’t need anyone to pamper me.”

     “You need it more than you can possibly know,” he disagreed, chucking her under the chin.  Everyone needs taking care of once in a while.”  She looked at him.  He was big, stro