Part Two
Historical Notes: The
basic facts relating to statehood here are true: the U.S. Congress passed an
Enabling Act on March 21, 1864, opening the door for Nevada to become the
nation’s thirty-sixth state. A convention was convened in Carson City on July
4 to draft and approve a state constitution; the document it produced was
brought to a vote of the citizens of Nevada in September. It was approved by a
wide margin and President Abraham Lincoln signed Nevada into the Union on
October 31, 1864. ~~ Governor James Warren Nye is credited with shepherding
Nevada’s entrance into the Union and, along with a few others, with securing
the western states in the abolitionist cause.
The treatment of the Nevada statehood issue presented here, particularly
Ben Cartwright’s participation, is fictional. ~~ Donald McKay was the premier
American ship builder of the clipper era (although I treated his story as if its
timeframe began about five years earlier than it actually did). While The
Gazelle is fictional, Lightning is
not; she was the fastest ship ever to sail the seas, faster than the steamships
of her day. ~~ This assumes
Bonanza’s conception of the International Hotel, not the actual structure,
which was significantly different.
Bonanza Notes: This
assumes that the Cartwrights are the ages assigned by David Dortort: Ben was
born in 1810, Adam in 1830, Hoss in 1836, Joe in 1842. ~~ Adam’s
horse Sport is the original one, the one with attitude, who was in the credits.
~~ The layout of the ranch and barn also is from
early in the series, when there were many trees and a bench in front of the
house. ~~ And I played fast and loose with geography, just as Bonanza did; the
house is up in the mountains, but only an hour from town—rather an
achievement, given the actual distances.
Disclaimer:
Ben, Adam, Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing, Roy Coffee and Dr. Paul Martin are not mine.
Neither is Governor James Warren Nye, who doesn’t even belong to David Dortort;
presumably, he belonged only to himself, but as he’s been dead since 1876, let
me simply say that I hope he’s been portrayed respectfully. Everyone else
belongs to me, whether I want them or not.
© 2003 as allowed
Prologue
THE sun was almost blinding on the slope of snow, flawless and clean on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada range. At the edge of a stand of pines, Ben Cartwright sat back in the saddle and marveled at how the blanket of white outlined the high peaks and then filtered down through the trees to the shore of Lake Tahoe.
Beside him, his son Hoss sighed comfortably. “Ain’t that just about the prettiest sight in the whole world?”
“Yes, it is, son. There’s no other like it.” Just for a second, Ben wondered what Lily Mercer would think of it … what she would say if she were sitting there beside him. He pushed the thought out of his mind. “It’s a fine place to raise a family, Hoss. I know it was hard on you to postpone the wedding last fall, but now, with spring coming, you and Eleanor can begin again. It’ll be a season of beginnings.”
“Yeah, Pa, I ain’t got no pleasant mem’ries o’ last fall. It darn near killed Ellie when her daddy died. But all that’s past now.”
“And you have your whole lives ahead of you.”
Hoss took off his hat and wiped his brow. “Didja ever think, Pa, ’bout how lucky we are ta live here?”
Ben’s voice softened. “Yes, we’re very fortunate. Not too many people have this to look at … to set them right when they might go wrong.”
“Yeah. I remember what you told me when I was a kid, and I reckon it’s as good advice now as it was then. You said to always try ta live up to the country.”
Ben sat up straighter in his saddle, inhaling the crisp, cold air. “That’s still true.”
“It’s just another way to say ‘do yer best,’ ain’t it, Pa? Do yer best and then do a lil’ more.”
Ben smiled. His middle son saw things in simple terms, loved and hated in black and white; sometimes it was easy to discount his intelligence. Easy, perhaps, but unwise. Hoss had a way of seeing to the heart of matters. “Yes, that’s exactly what it means.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Hoss threw his father a grin. “Not too bad up here today, is it? You c’n feel how in another month or so, it’ll be right decent.”
Ben nodded. In the clear sunshine, their heavy jackets were almost too warm. “Yes, before long.” He patted Buck’s neck where the horse was sweating through his thick coat of winter hair. “What d’you say we call it a day? If there were any cattle down that ravine over there, we’d be seeing their tracks.”
“Sounds good ta me. By the time we get home, it’ll be dark anyhow.” Hoss clucked to Chub and the dark bay gelding led the way across an expanse of unmarked snow that only he could tell was a trail.
They rode for more than an hour, dropping steadily down the mountain, sliding occasionally on the icy patches and toward the end trying to beat the setting sun. It was dark when they trotted into the clearing in front of the ranch house, and they were surprised to see a carriage parked next to the barn.
“Gov’nor’s here,” said the old man who helped with the horses. “Got here an hour ago. I’ll see ta yer horses.”
Hoss nodded toward the house. “You go on in, Pa. Gov’nor Nye ain’t here ta see me. I’ll help Brownie.”
Ben nodded and handed over Buck’s reins. If the governor was here, it could mean only one thing: Something was happening in their campaign for statehood. He’d backed Nye on the issue ever since Nevada had been declared a territory in 1861, but it was not until he’d returned from San Francisco the previous fall that he’d been appointed chairman of the statehood committee. In the depths of trying to get over Lily Mercer, he’d welcomed the extra demands on his time; the long days had helped to keep his mind off his troubles. It had been Christmas before he’d suddenly awakened to find that, blessedly, the raw open wound of losing her was not quite as painful as it had been. It wasn’t healed, probably hadn’t even begun to heal, but as if he’d gone numb, he’d been able to move on.
“Ben, writing state constitutions isn’t something anyone has much experience in, and as for lawyers, you have two on your committee.”
“What exactly are we talking about?”
“The Act’ll require us to have a constitution—that’s the first and most important step, and since our last one was defeated, we’ll need another. Technically, it’s supposed to be written by a state convention, but in my view that’s leaving too much to chance.” The governor’s eyes were piercing. “I want to schedule a convention for June or July, go in with a document in hand, and negotiate whatever changes the delegates want. Then as soon as it’s approved by popular vote, the matter is back in Washington. The president’s told me that as long as we have an anti-slavery provision, he’ll see that we’re admitted into the Union.”
“Writing the first draft is a big responsibility.”
Governor Nye nodded. “Yes, it is. That’s why I came to you.”
Ben inhaled the strong scent of his whiskey and took a drink, rolling it on his tongue.
“I can’t think of a better choice, Pa,” Adam said quietly from across the room, and Joe seconded his brother.
He glanced at his visitor with a faint smile. “I guess the consensus is in. Jim, you know if you need me, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Good!” Governor Nye set down his empty glass and stood up.
“Surely you’ll stay the night! It’s already dark—”
Jim Nye grinned. “I thank you, Ben, but there’s no rest for the wicked—at least, not until we achieve statehood. No, I have to catch the early stage from Virginia City in the morning, so I need to head on into town. Your man was good enough to take care of my horses and give my driver something to eat.” He turned to Adam and Joe. “Thank you, gentleman. I enjoyed our discussion and I appreciate your support. And Adam—I’ll give some thought to what you said. You may be right.”
Ben escorted him to the door and out into the chilly night. The carriage, a rather run-down landau, now stood in front of the house. Hoss was talking to the driver, his huge hand resting gently on one of the horses.
“Hoss!” The governor smiled. “It’s good to see you. I was so sorry to hear about your fiancée’s father last fall.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you tie the knot—June the fourth, isn’t it?”
“Yessir.”
“My calendar is marked.” Nye put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I imagine you’d like this job to be done by then. I’ll do my best to keep the Southern faction at bay.”
“Jim, I think most of the people of Nevada side with Mr. Lincoln,” Ben replied, “but there’s no denying that men like Hec McWhirter could sway some of them with their Confederate arguments.”
“I’m afraid so.” Governor Nye sighed. “Our work isn’t over yet, but I know we’ll prevail.”
Ben and Hoss watched as the vehicle pulled away and disappeared around the corner of the barn, and then Ben wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders to walk back into the house. Already Hop Sing was serving up dinner and such important issues as statehood disappeared in the general appreciation of hot food after a cold day’s work. Then the great room quieted as everyone went through the recent mail, and finally Joe and Hoss settled into a game of checkers, Adam retreated behind a book and Ben turned his attention to paperwork at the desk. It was a couple of hours before Hoss and Joe pushed back from the table.
“Three games to two, lil’ brother,” Hoss said with satisfaction. “Y’re losin’ yer touch.”
Joe stood up and stretched his arms above his head. “Nah, big brother, I’m just bein’ nice to you. Once you have to play with Eleanor every night, you’re gonna have a hard time rememberin’ what it feels like to win.”
Hoss laughed complacently. “My bride’s a lotta won’erful things, Joe, but she ain’t no better at playin’ checkers than you are.” He looked over at his father. “I’m gonna hit the hay. G’night, Pa … Adam.”
“Me, too. G’night.” Joe followed his brother up the stairs.
For a few moments, there was silence in the great room, the only sound that of Hoss and Joe’s footsteps in the hall above. Then Adam closed his book and rose.
Ben glanced at him. “You going up, too?”
“Yeah, I have to ride up to the logging camp tomorrow.” Adam hesitated, and then withdrew a buff-colored envelope from his book and tossed it on the desk. “This was in the mail this afternoon. I thought you might want it separately.”
Ben’s brow furrowed. Other than something from the capital—which the governor would have conveyed, had there been anything—he couldn’t imagine anything coming to him that might demand privacy. He picked up the letter curiously.
Even before he turned it over and read the return address, he knew who it was from. The paper was of heaviest vellum, engraved in sienna-brown. MERCER. CLAY STREET. SAN FRANCISCO.
“I see. Thank you, son.”
“Sure. See you in the morning, Pa.”
Ben sat back in his chair, staring at the envelope without opening it. He didn’t even hear Adam cross the room and climb the stairs. And yet, seconds later, he heard a log break gently in the fireplace. Like an old friend, the warm ambience of the room wrapped itself around him, giving him the strength to confront his feelings.
He had to admit that it was a jolt to see the name Mercer in print—not that he hadn’t thought about Lily nearly every day since he’d last seen her. He’d been relieved to have a committee meeting in Carson City during the time he should have been in San Francisco on their winter trip. More importantly, he’d been pleased to feel only a detached sadness when Adam, who’d made the journey alone, returned and casually mentioned he’d gone riding with Lily Mercer and young Michaela Van Dine while he was there.
He sighed. It would just take time. This communication from her—the first tangible reminder of their brief romance—could be a step in his recovery. He started to rip it open, and then stopped, rummaged in his desk drawer for a paper knife, and slit the handsome stationery neatly.
It was so like Lily, he thought impatiently. The letterhead of the first page was an elaborate design of her initials. Entirely too elegant, it reminded him that although it had not been his decision, it was probably best that their relationship had gone no further. She never would have fit at the Ponderosa.
Then he propped the spectacles on his nose, leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath.
Dear
Ben,
Please forgive the intrusion of this correspondence, but something has arisen about which I need your advice. As you know, Julia has her heart set on attending Hoss’ wedding. Unfortunately, Aubrey learned yesterday that business obligations will keep him in San Francisco for most of that trip. Unless suitable escort is found for Julia and Michaela—Ted and Madison would remain at home with their father—it will be impossible for them to visit you in May. In short, Aubrey has asked that I accompany them to the Ponderosa in his place.
Under normal circumstances, I would have no second thoughts about complying with his request, as anything I can do to aid Aubrey and Julia would be my pleasure. However, given the events of last fall, I desire to know your feelings on the subject. Above all, I do not wish to cause any inconvenience for you. Please forgive me if I am assuming too much. If this is of no consequence to you, I shall be happy to come with Julia and Mickey and enjoy renewing our friendship. If it is inappropriate, I shall offer a plausible excuse and decline.
Please understand that I am respectful of your privacy and my own, and would appreciate this letter remaining confidential between us. Hope all is well with you, Adam, Hoss and Joe, and that springtime comes early to the Sierras this year.
With kindest regards,
He sat staring at the flowing Spenserian script. Lily … here, at home, on the Ponderosa. He sucked in his breath, his throat suddenly dry. He tried to order his thoughts, annoyingly aware that his heartbeat had quickened and he wasn’t sure why. It certainly wasn’t with anticipation; all things considered, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to see Lily Mercer again. With their mutual friends, that unfortunately was not a possibility—unless, of course, he turned tail and ran like a frightened animal, which was not an option.
So, was he afraid? Yes … but not of Lily Mercer. He was just apprehensive about the first time he would see her again. And in that case, maybe this was a blessing. If she came to Hoss’ wedding with Julia and Michaela Van Dine, he would see her first on his home territory. Certainly that would be easier than having it happen at some dinner or party or even walk in the park in San Francisco. He relaxed in the chair. Yes, this could be a godsend. By the time she, Julia and Michaela returned to the coast, he would be at ease with the whole situation. It might be just what he needed to put it all behind him.
He sighed, suddenly aware of how much unspoken energy loving and losing Lily Mercer had required over the past five months. It would be good to get back to normal. He slipped a sheet of stationery—a business-grade white of some presence but little elegance—from the drawer and twisted the cap from a bottle of India ink. She needed an answer as soon as possible.
Chapter
One
PERHAPS in compliance with Lily Mercer’s wish, spring did come early to the Sierras that year. Beneath the cloud-capped granite peaks, the scenery turned a thousand shades of green. The vast high meadows were emerald with windblown grass, and the lower valleys saw their dark firs accented by pale aspen trees that turned silver in the afternoon sun. White yarrow, blue-eyed mary, pink shooting star and a host of other wildflowers bloomed freely, decorating the verdant carpets like jewels on a fine lady’s gown.
Exhausted as they worked long hours in preparation for the coming festivities, Ben Cartwright and his sons were hardly alert to the joys around them. There were more than a thousand new calves to account for and the logs felled during the late winter months had to be readied for shipment. The on-going production of ore kept a full team of miners busy, while a new planting venture at the north end of the ranch seemed to inhale hours. And beyond the Ponderosa’s demands, Ben spent endless days in Carson City, negotiating the preliminary wording of the state constitution. The U.S. Congress had passed an Enabling Act for Nevada on March 21, and by early April he and his committee were deeply involved in hammering out the text of the required document.
In a triumph of timing, both the ranch work and the political duties were in order by late May. The day before the California guests were to arrive was the last one with a full schedule of work; extra hands specially hired would take up the slack until Hoss came back from his honeymoon and the Van Dine party returned home.
“So, is all quiet in Carson City for the duration?” Adam inquired at dinner that evening.
Ben arched an eyebrow. “I should hope so—at least until the convention. If the committee can agree on what ought to be in the constitution, I suppose there’s hope that the delegates can, too.” He shook his head as if to empty it of worries. “I’ll just feel better when it’s all over and the popular vote’s in.”
“Well, there’s not much you can do now, is there, Pa?” Hoss asked as he nearly emptied the bowl of mashed potatoes. “I mean, you done what you needed to, didn’ ya?”
“Yes. Unless the opposition comes up with something we’re not expecting, we should be free of all this until Independence Day.” Ben smiled. “Plenty of time to get you married off and back from your honeymoon!”
Joe chuckled at the smug grin on his brother’s face. “Hoss, as big as your wedding’s gettin’, why, folks’ll do well to remember statehood this summer. It’s something any self-respecting citizen will think about after he celebrates Hoss Cartwright’s gettin’ hitched.”
“Now, Joe, I don’ know as how I’m all that important,” Hoss rejoined modestly.
“It’s not you, brother,” Adam agreed. “It’s the fact that you found a woman brave enough to have you.”
But no amount of teasing could dim Hoss’ happiness. He reached for another pork chop.
“So, Pa, who’s this Lily Mercer that’s coming with Julia?” Joe asked.
Ben was glad that his mouth was full and he could wait for a minute before replying. He saw Adam shoot him a quick, interested glance. “Ah—she’s a neighbor of Aubrey and Julia’s that Adam and I met when we were in San Francisco last fall. Very nice woman.”
“Yeah? What’s she like? How old is she?” Joe’s eyes crinkled with humor, even though everyone at the table knew that he was half-serious.
Ben’s lips twitched with amusement. “Probably old enough to be your mother, Joseph. Her late husband was a friend of Aubrey’s.”
“Has she ever been on a ranch before?”
“I doubt it. She’s—well, you know, the whole way of life in San Francisco is very different from what we have here.”
“You mean Aubrey’s way of life is,” Joe said shrewdly. “Whew, that man knows how to spend money.”
“And make it,” Ben reminded him. “But you’re right. Lily Mercer lives a lot like Aubrey and Julia do.”
“Just wha’d’ya mean, Pa? Aubrey an’ Julia ain’t uppity, even though they live kinda rich. Is she real”—Hoss wrinkled his nose—“high in the instep, like?”
“No, as I say, she’s very personable. I’m sure you’ll like her.” Ben motioned to Hop Sing for coffee. “It’s more a matter of … we just do things differently here.”
“Hey, Pa,” Joe said, his grin nearly preventing him from speaking, “why don’t you make a little use of her while she’s here? We could drop a few comments—you know, nothing specific, just a few little suggestions—and before you know it, the story’d get back to the Widow Hensley that you’re promised.”
Ben nearly choked. “You’ll do no such thing!”
Joe’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Pa, it was a joke—”
“An’ besides,” Hoss interrupted, heedless of his father’s tone, “if yer gonna back somebody off, it should prob’ly be Eleanor’s Aunt Louise. I love Eleanor an’ her sister ta death, an’ I don’t even mind her mother, but that Aunt Louise is enough to drive a man plum’ crazy.”
Joe forgot his father’s reaction at the mention of Eleanor’s aunt. “You got that right. Pa, I swear, it’d be worth anything to get rid o’ that she-wolf.”
Ben frowned. “Joseph, Louise Calthrop is a little trying, but I think ‘she-wolf’ is a bit overstated.” He glanced around the table. Adam’s eyes glimmered with amusement, and Hoss and Joe were bursting with stifled laughter.
“Give yourself a little more time with her,” Joe advised. “You’ll throw anyone, even Lily Mercer, into the breach.”
<<<<<>>>>>
Lily Mercer sat back against the worn leather seat of the stagecoach, almost lulled to sleep by its steady rocking motion. The trip so far had been interesting and not particularly difficult, as they’d stretched what was normally three days’ travel to four so as not to arrive in a state of exhaustion. It had begun with a steamboat from San Francisco to Sacramento, where they’d boarded a train to Placerville, in the western foothills of the Sierras. Then they’d scaled the mountains in a stagecoach over good, well-graded roads and taken the northern route around Lake Tahoe. They were due in Virginia City within the hour.
She shook her head and took a deep breath to remain awake; the enforced inactivity was making everyone drowsy. A prim matron next to her was drifting into a gentleman beyond her, both of them leaning toward the window like fallen trees. In the opposite corner, Julia Van Dine was nodding off. Only Michaela, across from her, had her eyes open; she was re-reading, probably for the hundredth time, her latest letter from Adam Cartwright. Lily smiled. The friendship between the sensitive ten-year-old and the eldest Cartwright son, who was nothing if not reserved, was a lovely thing to behold.
Nothing if not reserved. Yes, he could be quiet, even aloof. But every time she’d been around him, he’d been charming, a thoughtful man of uncommon intelligence. Her mind traveled back three months to February, when Adam had been in San Francisco to conduct business with Michaela’s father, Aubrey Van Dine, one of the most successful commercial agents on the west coast. He’d spent most of his free time with the little girl, and one afternoon the pair of them had invited her riding.
The memory brought a smile to her face and she looked up to find Michaela’s eyes on her. “I was just thinking of that day you and Adam and I rode all the way to the other side of the Presidio to see the ocean.”
Michaela grinned. “Boy, was he mad at Trifle!”
“As any sane person would have been.” The grey mare Trifle, from the Van Dine stable, was as brainless as she was beautiful. Adam put up with her antics better than most, but on that gusty afternoon, as she leapt and snorted at everything that moved, even he ran out of patience. The next morning, Lily had sent her groom to the Van Dine barn with her best gelding, who had remained there for the duration of Adam’s visit.
“He sure did like Zachary better,” Michaela confirmed, as if reading her thoughts. “He said he was like Sport, lots of fun, but pretty smart.”
“I’m sure he’ll have something wonderful for you to ride while you’re in Nevada.”
Michaela nodded and looked down again at the paper in her hands. “He says he and Uncle Ben chose some horses for us a couple of weeks ago. Hoss is making sure they’re ready.”
At the mention of Ben Cartwright, Lily lay her head back against the cushioned neck rest. She didn’t need to hold a paper in her hand to recall his letter to her.
Dearest Lily,
Of course we will be delighted to see you for Hoss’ wedding. While I’m sorry not to be able to remind Aubrey that the Sierras are fully as beautiful as San Francisco, there’s no denying that in the Nevada territory, a lovely woman is much more warmly received at any social function.
I had looked forward to seeing you in February, but as you know, meetings about our proposed statehood kept me in Carson City. Adam certainly enjoyed his outing with you and Michaela.
Please know that I appreciate your consideration of my feelings in the matter of the wedding trip. Hope this finds you well and happy.
As ever,
She had to admit that the “dearest” pleased her. As for the rest of it, well, that pleased her, too. It had to. She was the one who’d broken off their budding romance, but she was feminine enough to hope that he thought of her from time to time.
Now she would be seeing him before the day was out, and despite her best efforts at maintaining her confidence, she was a little uneasy. She chided herself for her nerves, at the same time curious about her own feelings. She was no inexperienced girl; seeing someone with whom she’d once been involved shouldn’t worry her. But the fact remained that since they’d climbed into the upper reaches of the Sierra Nevada range, she’d been feeling a little intimidated. The sheer grandeur of the sun-washed heights and the towering forests—the ancient sequoias, the firs, the massive pine trees—had overwhelmed her. And then Lake Tahoe … she had never seen a more beautiful body of water, not even the magnificent Lake Como in northern Italy or her own beloved San Francisco Bay. How, she wondered, did one live here and see such sights daily? Was it not too much for the senses?
It must be the altitude, she concluded. She just wasn’t herself. Everything seemed to be a little bit too much to handle, and the prospect of seeing Ben Cartwright again, of meeting his other two sons and seeing the Ponderosa for the first time, was daunting.
“Adam says he’ll be meeting us,” Michaela informed her, looking up from the letter.
Thank God, Lily thought. One new thing at a time!
<<<<<>>>>>
Adam pushed his hat back off his face and sat up in the surrey as the stagecoach rounded the corner. He knew enough to wait where he was until the cloud of dust that accompanied the big vehicle had dissipated. The roads over the Sierras might be watered for the convenience of the passengers, but the streets of Virginia City were not. By the time he crossed the street, one of the freight office boys had brought out a step and was helping a plump older woman down. Julia was the next to alight.
“Adam!” she exclaimed and offered her cheek for a kiss. “It’s so good to see you!”
His eyes shone affectionately. “Julia, we’re happy to have you here. Did you have an easy trip?”
“Oh, yes! It was lovely—the mountains are so beautiful!” She turned back to the coach. “Lily! Do we have everything?”
“Just one stray book,” replied Lily, smiling out at Adam as she handed Julia a thin volume that had been left behind.
Adam reached up to hand her down from the stage. “Lily, how are you?”
“As well as can be expected, Adam,” she replied enigmatically. But her dark blue eyes were warm and friendly.
Adam wondered, not for the first time, what had gone on between his father and Lily Mercer. He could swear they’d grown very fond of each other when he and Ben had been in San Francisco the previous fall; there had seemed to be a special bond between them … until the day after a big party Lily had hosted. After that, he’d never seen them together again, and when Ben spoke of her, it was as if she were a rather impersonal acquaintance.
When he’d been in California during the winter, Lily had been the same way about his father. They were so carefully distant and circumspect about each other, he could only assume that whatever had blossomed between them had died. And yet, he wondered. He couldn’t help liking Lily Mercer, and more critically, he’d liked his father with her.
He kissed Lily on the cheek too and then turned back to the interior of the coach. “How’s my best girl?”
Michaela appeared in the doorway. “Very fine now that we’re here.”
There didn’t seem to be any need for words; all sorts of phrases hung in the air—I’ve missed you, it’s so good to see you—and were understood. She told him she’d been writing in her journal all the way across the Sierras and his lips curled in the little private smile he reserved just for her. “No problems with your imagination?”
She giggled. “Silly! You don’t need imagination in the Sierras.”
That single compliment to his home touched him more than he could have guessed. He ran a hand over the wave of dark hair that fell down her back. “Just wait till we’ve had a chance to take a good look at them.”
As the stage driver began tossing luggage to the ground, a wiry old man on the sidewalk caught Adam’s attention. “I got all the s’pplies loaded,” he said, shifting his wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other and spitting haphazardly at a brass pot next to the freight office. “Ya want I should get these carpetbags now?”
“Yeah, Brownie. Bring the buckboard around.” Adam plucked Michaela straight from the stagecoach and held her up with one arm, marveling once again at how small she was. He turned to Julia and Lily. “Your trunks came in yesterday and they’re already at the Ponderosa. He’ll take the bags—there’s not room in the surrey.”
Brownie snapped a pair of fine leather suspenders against the worn plaid of his shirt. “An’ Adam, don’t forget, I hafta stop at the Widda Hensley’s fer the rhubarb pies, so I’ll be a lil’ behin’ ya.” He snorted a half-laugh. “I don’t reckon she gave yer pa any way ta get outta takin’ ’em.”
Adam’s eyes twinkled. “No, I don’t expect she did.” He escorted his guests over to the carriage.
“Adam,” Julia said in a low voice that was brimming with laughter. “Did you hire that gentleman just for our entertainment?”
“He is a character,” Adam agreed, setting his young friend on the second seat and helping Julia in. “No, he’s been with us for a couple of years, but we’ve known him since I was a kid.” He lifted Lily into the front seat and climbed in beside her.
“Now, you have to tell me—is the Widow Hensley the lady who’s sweet on Ben?” Julia queried. “Aubrey told me there was one.”
Adam grinned reluctantly. “Yes, she’s the one Aubrey knows about. Lately there’s been another one, too, and it’s rather awkward because it’s Eleanor’s aunt.”
“Oh, my!” she giggled. “Poor Ben! Does he have any interest in either of them?”
“I’m afraid you’d have to ask him that.”
Adam loosened the reins and flapped them lazily on the horses’ rumps. He had almost turned the surrey around when the station master hurried across the street.
“Adam! I’m glad I caught you!” The man came up close to the carriage and lowered his voice. “You might tell your pa—McWhirter’s stirrin’ up trouble again. Roy Coffee said if I saw you to let Ben know he wants to talk to him about it.”
Adam frowned. “Harv, the majority of people around here aren’t buying what McWhirter’s selling.”
The station master glanced around nervously. “It’s different now, Adam. Roy thinks he’s gettin’ some money behind him.”
“All right. I’ll let Pa know.”
Adam clucked to the horses and the surrey rolled sedately down C Street. He threw a sideways grin at Lily. “Knowing your concerns about the Rebellion, you might be interested in that,” he said. “Pa’s on the governor’s Committee for Statehood. He’s been working on a preliminary draft of a constitution to be submitted to the state convention in July. The last thing they need right now is a bunch of rabble-rousers clouding the issues.”
“Is there much Confederate sympathy in Nevada?”
“Some, but not a lot. The governor’s put down most of the demonstrations, and since the Union victories over the past year, there haven’t been that many. About the only opposition left has been led by McWhirter and if what Harv’s saying is true, he’s stepping it up.”
“It’s imperative that Nevada become a state,” she said. “Mr. Lincoln needs the support. Heavens, he needs the votes in the next election!”
“I imagine he’ll have them.”
It wasn’t long before the homes and businesses of Virginia City thinned and the road led out through a flat stretch of dry vegetation before beginning a gentle ascent into the hills, becoming more green as it rose. Lily, mulling over what Adam had said, was conscious of a rush of excitement. Somehow everything seemed more vital here in Nevada—the question of impending statehood and the effect it would have on the Rebellion, the larger-than-life scenery, the sense of struggle and accomplishment. You’re being silly, she told herself. There’s as much going on in San Francisco as there is here in Nevada. This is just all new to you.
She watched Adam from the corner of her eye, noting that the differences weren’t limited to her surroundings. Adam Cartwright was not the same man she’d come to know in California. Oh, some things remained constant—the clear hazel eyes that sometimes smiled even when his lips didn’t, and the sense of confident power in the way he held himself. But the well-cut suits of the city had been replaced by an outfit of all black that clearly was designed for work; his shirt collar was open, his sleeves rolled back over muscular forearms. Unbidden, she was reminded of the way Ben had turned back his cuffs at Michaela’s birthday party the previous fall … she’d been struck with the quiet strength of his arms and hands. Her eyes drifted to Adam’s hands, holding the reins with a casualness born of experience.
The biggest difference, she judged, was the gunbelt strapped around his hips. The black walnut handle of the revolver glowed like satin, as though it had seen considerable use. Reflexively, she looked around to see what might be so threatening, but the countryside was peaceful—no masked bandits, wild Indians, no wolves or bears.
Immediately she was lost in the spectacular beauty of the meadows which extended away to the forests. The sweet perfume of new growth seemed to be welcoming her and she could hardly believe what she was seeing. As the road led into the mountains, the fields blossomed with a variety of flowers, a riot of color that looked as though an artist had shaken his brushes and dotted the landscape.
“How do you like Nevada so far?” Adam’s voice took her off-guard.
She turned to look at him, unsure of what to say. Everything that came to mind seemed trite, and for some reason she just couldn’t settle for that. Not with Ben, not with Ben’s son, not over a subject which so flagrantly demanded honesty. The truth was, she loved the country she’d seen. It struck the same chord within her that the sea had so many years before, when as a little girl she’d first sailed from Savannah to New York.
“When I figure it out, I’ll be glad to let you know. But at the moment, I can hardly decipher my thoughts. All the books I’ve read, and the articles—they don’t do it justice.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s like trying to define God in a few little words. He just doesn’t fit into the tiny perception of Man. … And your Sierras are awfully close to heaven, you know.”
His eyes locked on hers for a moment. “I’d say you’ve got the idea.”
She blushed faintly and looked away. “Adam, may I ask a question that’s not necessarily my business?”
“You can ask anything.”
“The little old man who’s driving the buckboard … maybe it’s just the mercantile in me, but—well, goodness, his entire outfit probably isn’t worth a nickel, and yet he’s wearing braces you might see on Aubrey Van Dine.”
Adam shot her an appreciative glance. “Very astute of you. Brownie’s rather a unique resident at the Ponderosa.”
“You said you’d known him for years.”
“We have. He was the scout on a couple of our wagon trains coming west. He turned up a few years ago, broke, not really able to do heavy work. Pa took him on.” He paused to shorten rein on one of the horses and call a command. “You’ve seen him—there’s not much to him. The older he gets, the skinnier he gets, and lately Pa’s been afraid that one of these days his pants are going to fall off him.”
Lily chuckled. “So he bought him a pair of braces?”
“M’m-h’m. And since Brownie’s probably never in his life owned anything he could be proud of, Pa decided he was going to change that. Now, it’s entirely likely that one Saturday night in town, some liquored-up cowboy’ll hit Brownie over the head and steal them, but for the pleasure he’s had over the past few months, it just might be worth it.”
“Worth whatever they cost and then some …”
After that, they rode in silence for several minutes as the road climbed through a grove of sequoias, rounded a long bend and set out across another meadow. Just before a sturdy oaken bridge, Adam brought the horses to a stop. To the right, the water of the creek reflected the azure of the sky as it fled away between banks of tall grass. Huge pine trees anchored the landscape and he nodded to the tallest one, a spreading giant of untold years.
“Once we’re past that tree, you’re on the Ponderosa.”
<<<<<>>>>>
Lily would never forget her first view of the Ponderosa ranch house. Later she would recall how great long driveways on English estates were planned to tantalize visitors with glimpses of the main home, culminating finally in one spectacular vista of the architecture in its setting. Here, it was almost the opposite. The trail leading up to the ranch house was well maintained, with no leg-snapping holes and few rocks, but it wove through dense forest. There was no other indication that anyone lived anywhere near until suddenly, as if magically, a large building—she would learn that it was a barn—appeared just ahead. A dull, rustic red, it seemed to fit right into the scenery, as if it were simply an outcropping of stone or earth. Only when they’d followed the road around it and into a large clearing did she see Ben Cartwright’s home.
It was a rambling log structure set in a grove of trees beyond the barn and the corrals. Greenery seemed everywhere; she had to look to see the house, it settled so naturally into the surrounding pines.
“You barely disturb nature’s handiwork,” she murmured to Adam.
“That’s the intention. It’s hard to improve on perfection.”
As Adam was helping the ladies down from the surrey, a Chinese man scurried from the front door to welcome them.
“I Hop Sing,” he said. “Rooms ah ready. And watah hot, if bath wanted.”
“A bath,” Julia echoed dreamily. “Lily, why don’t you go first? I’ll get Michaela started.”
Adam pushed open the front door. “Right this way.”
Lily wasn’t sure what she’d imagined Ben’s home would look like, but what she saw seemed just right. The great stone hearth was imposing, while the rough, parchment-colored walls were warm and appealing. The crimson draperies and dark wooden shutters gave the impression of cozy security on a chilly winter night, and the big, heavy furniture spoke of masculine comfort. A sense of the country around them was evident in the Indian blanket folded over the stair railing, even as the gold filigree picture frames on the desk spoke of another society. And touches of elegance were evident in the glass-fronted bookcase, the bronzes and the lovely oil paintings in their gold frames. It was a pleasant room.
As they went upstairs, Julia turned to Michaela. “I think that after our baths we’ll take a nap, because it’s probably going to be quite an evening when Ben and Hoss and Joe get here. Lily, what about you? Do you think you’ll lie down?”
Lily hadn’t really considered it, but suddenly the whole experience—coming to Nevada, being in Ben’s house—seemed to catch up with her. Through the open door to her bedroom, she could see a beautiful old cherry bed with what appeared to be a stack of feather mattresses. “I think that sounds absolutely wonderful.”
<<<<<>>>>>
While Julia, Lily and Michaela bathed, Adam devoted his time to banking records at the desk downstairs, and when they retired to their rooms, he relaxed in his bath before dressing for dinner. House tradition demanded a little more formality on the first few nights of their guests’ visit, and he took his time with a dark grey suit, white shirt and black tie. Then as Hoss, Joe and Ben returned in the early evening and set about cleaning up, he grabbed a book that lay on the desk and slouched into one of the red chairs to wait for everyone to come down.
Lily was the first to appear. “Sit down!” She smiled when he rose to greet her. “It’s much too relaxed an evening to be so fearsomely polite.”
He turned to the tray on the table next to him. “How about if I’m polite enough to get you something to drink? We have a good sherry from Portugal.”
“Lovely.” She waited until he’d poured a whiskey for himself as well. “What’re you reading?”
He held up the leatherbound volume: La Comedie Humaine.
“Balzac?” she exclaimed in surprise. “Which story?”
“‘Etude de Femme.’”
She regarded him wryly. “‘The Study of a Woman.’”
One eyebrow arched dramatically. “You don’t agree that men have a lot to learn about that subject?”
“Oh, I agree completely! And don’t forget to read ‘Autre Etude de Femme’ as well.”
“‘Another Study of a Woman.’ By all means. I wouldn’t miss it.”
Lily chuckled. “Oh, my, Adam Cartwright, you do surprise me sometimes.”
He remained playful. “I can’t see how. I distinctly remember my father saying you told him to read more when we were in San Francisco last fall.”
“Yes, and I even recommended Balzac—” She stopped and swallowed. “Yes … I did. I did suggest a few authors for him to read. I just never figured you—um, you would really need to—” She had lost her train of thought.
He watched her curiously. “It appears you have great confidence in my knowledge of women.”
“Yes—no! I never gave your knowledge of women a thought—oh, heavens, let’s change the subject!”
Their verbal joust was cut short as Hop Sing arrived to set out a pitcher of lemonade for Michaela, and before they could resume, Hoss and Joe descended the stairs. Adam and Lily both stood up.
“Lily, I’d like you to meet my brothers,” Adam said. “Hoss, Joe—this is Lily Mercer.”
Hoss, who was fingering his necktie as if it were about to choke him, nodded, his blue eyes amiable. “Pleased ta meet you, ma’am. We’re real happy ta have ya here.”
Joe was smoother, his expression sweetly brash as he looked her over. “We always like to welcome a beautiful woman to the Ponderosa, ma’am. We’ll do our best to see that you enjoy your stay.”
It was not long before everyone else appeared—Julia and Michaela first, and then Ben, looking very dignified in a charcoal suit and pearl grey waistcoat. He ruffled Michaela’s hair and embraced Julia. “It’s wonderful to see you,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived.”
Then he turned to Lily, his face jovial. “Lily, how good to see you again.” His hands closed on her shoulders as he kissed her cheek.
She smiled up at him. “Ben. It’s lovely to see you, too.”
“Have my sons taken care of you? You’re to let me know if they neglect you—we’re not quite as exciting as San Francisco, but we’ll try to make sure you have a good time.”
“I love it here already. You needn’t worry about me.”
Presently Hop Sing waved from the dining room and Hoss led the way to the table.
“Now, the secret is not to sit too close to Hoss,” Adam informed Lily in a low voice that was calculated to carry to everyone. “It can get rather exciting next to him at dinner.”
She giggled. “Stop it! It’s my first night here and I have to be on my good behavior.”
Adam’s lips were quivering. “You’ll get over it.”
“And besides, ma’am, I’m sure brother Hoss would be real careful if he had someone like you next to him at dinner,” Joe said. “He’s usually stuck with just us, but he does have real fine table manners when he needs ’em.”
“What’re they talking about, Hoss?” Michaela inquired.
“Don’t you listen to ’em,” Hoss advised. “They just admire how I enjoy my dinner. And speakin’ o’ that, Mickey, you’re just a little mite. Could be you oughta sit next to me and see how it’s done. You gotta get some size on you.”
He proceeded to supply Michaela’s plate through a succession of courses that finally defeated even Lily’s legendary appetite. Julia was bubbling with laughter by the time they all moved back to the great room for coffee. “It’s going to be hard to watch our figures with Hop Sing’s cooking to eat,” she said. “Is he doing all the food for the wedding reception?”
“Most of it, with help from his family,” Ben nodded. “He won’t have it any other way.”
Joe grinned. “All but one of the desserts.”
“And what’s that going to be?” she asked.
“Now that’s what you’re all just gonna have ta wonder,” Hoss cut in before his brother could answer. “He can’t hardly tell ya or it’d spoil the surprise.”
“It’s the latest in Hoss and Joe’s rather famous collaborations,” Ben said dryly. “We’re all very interested to see how it turns out.”
“If it turns out,” Adam added under his breath.
Joe smiled dismissively. “It’s just a little thing a girl over in Carson City made for me last winter. Nothing much. I’m not a cook.”
“We got jars all over the kitchen,” Hoss added. “Gonna be the talk o’ all the women in Virginia City by the time the weddin’s done. Why, I wouldn’t be s’prised if Joe winds up meetin’ his future bride on account of it.”
“Joe!” Julia’s eyes sparkled. “I never would have guessed you’d be interested in the culinary arts.”
“The what? Oh—oh, well, I’m not, Julia. But this was just too good to miss—real elegant. You wait and see.”
In the mellow firelight, the rest of the evening passed quickly. It was not long before Michaela’s eyelids were drooping and even as she tried to sit up straight, she drifted slowly sideways on the settee.
“I think it’s about time we went up,” Julia observed.
Hoss turned to Adam. “If you ’n’ Michaela’re goin’ ta the lake like ya planned, you might wanna make sure Robbie polished the sidesaddles—I told him to.”
“I wouldn’t mind riding astride,” Michaela said quickly.
Ben intervened. “We’ll be glad to have you ride astride while you’re here, Mickey, but I think you should try it on a shorter trip. You wouldn’t want to get saddle sore the first day.”
The little girl nodded and fought a yawn. “Whatever you say. But I do want to try it.” She directed a challenging glance at Adam. “Unless you give me a really slow horse, I’ll bet I can beat you a lot more often if I don’t have to ride a sidesaddle.”
“We’ll see,” he returned. As she passed his chair, she detoured to drop a kiss on his cheek and he flashed her a smile. “Good night, sweetheart. See you in the morning.”
A few minutes later, Lily rose too. “I’m afraid I’m exhausted. It’s been a lovely evening.”
She climbed the stairs without a backward glance, hearing Adam say his good nights behind her, but unaware that it was by design until he spoke as she opened the door to her room.
“If you don’t have plans,” he said, “would you like to ride over to the lake with us in the morning?”
“I’d love to.”
He nodded as he walked on. “Ten o’clock.”
Lily closed the door behind her and leaned against it, relishing the silence but feeling her heart skip unsteadily. Ben hadn’t changed, she reflected. All of the things that had most attracted her were still there … the warm way his dark brown eyes rested the people he cared about … his indulgence of all the teasing and joking. The love and pride in his gaze when he’d watched Adam with Michaela had nearly undone her. And other aspects were the same as well. She could still see him in the big chair by the fire, his long legs crossed casually. He was so at ease in the world. She’d waited for something to be uncomfortable, but it never had been.
She sighed, glad that she would be occupied in the morning, so that she ran no chance of encountering him and disturbing the pleasant balance they’d established this evening. Probably, she reflected, that was why Adam had invited her to ride with him and Michaela.
Then she pushed all thoughts of Ben Cartwright out of her mind and went in search of her nightgowns.
<<<<<>>>>>
In his room at the back of the house Ben pulled off his boots, weary from head to toe. The evening had gone better than he’d anticipated, but it hadn’t been easy. Not sure of what to expect from Lily, he’d simply convinced himself that he had to play a part—and if he did say so himself, he’d played it damned well.
Lily … thank God he’d prepared himself. She looked, as usual, stunning. She’d chosen a dress of raw silk in pale cocoa and navy stripes, with a complicated fancy bodice. It was beautiful, but it exuded the kind of style that only wealth could buy. He sighed and shook his head. There was just no way that she could fit naturally at the Ponderosa—she was too citified, too elegant. Pretty, of course … her dark auburn hair, swept off her face and done up in back, had glowed with a life of its own.
Quite obviously, she’d given no thought to the loss of what they’d had together the previous fall. She had moved on comfortably; it hadn’t been difficult for her to come to his home, particularly since it appeared that she and Adam had become such good friends. He smiled ironically. She and his eldest son had been like kindred spirits since the first night they’d met.
He stretched as he slipped a nightshirt over his head. An early meeting with a neighbor meant there were precious few hours for sleep—certainly too few to waste any worrying about what might have been.
Chapter
Two
AS IT HAPPENED, Ben’s early meeting was cancelled when the rancher became ill. Already up and dressed, he redirected his time to correspondence at his desk and then spent a frustrating hour with Hop Sing in the kitchen trying to fix a leaky pump. At last, his shirt drenched, he went upstairs to change and at mid-morning, decided that with nothing going right in his day, perhaps a ride would help. Certainly his favorite view of Tahoe would. He got his gunbelt and hat from the rack and headed for the barn.
Adam was saddling the sturdy bay gelding he’d selected for Michaela when Ben arrived. “His name is Conejo,” his son was saying to the girl.
“Papa hired a tutor to teach us Spanish and French, so I know what ca-nay-ho is,” she replied. “It’s ‘rabbit.’ Does he jump around a lot?”
“I hope not. I think he was named that because he’s very quick, so you pay attention to him.”
“I will—hi, Uncle Ben. Are you going to go with us?”
“I thought I might, if you don’t mind.”
“We’d love it,” Michaela assured him. “Lily, did you hear? Uncle Ben’s coming, too!”
It was only then that Ben noticed the sidesaddle on the horse in the last stall, a dark bay mare named Skylark. Dressed in the navy habit she’d worn for Michaela’s birthday picnic, Lily emerged from behind the horse, as surprised by the turn of events as he was. That was just marginally comforting, he thought; perhaps things weren’t quite as easy for her as it had appeared.
When they were ready, Adam threw Michaela up into her sidesaddle and Ben performed the same office for Lily. The day was going from bad to worse, he reflected; so many things brought back memories of his time with her in San Francisco. He couldn’t help recalling how he’d helped her dismount at Michaela’s picnic, when the black horse had moved suddenly and caused her to fall so provocatively against him. He grunted in disgust and swung up on Buck to follow the others.
The first part of the ride was easy, as they climbed gradually through the dense forests that surrounded the ranch house, trotting occasionally in the open spaces and fording a succession of icy-clear mountain streams.
From the start, Michaela was entranced with the abundance of wildflowers in the woods. “What’s that one?” she questioned Adam, pointing to a distinctive cone-shaped plant of red blooms.
“It’s called snow plant,” he replied, and identified a profusion of small, bluish flowers as Jacob’s Ladder.
“Those are interesting names. But why call red flowers snow plants?”
“Some years we have snow under the trees for a lot longer than you’d think,” he explained. “They’ve been known to push up through it to bloom. And those white flowers that look like lace are mountain whitethorn.”
“How do you remember the names?”
“It’s not hard if you see them every year. Remind me on the way back—if we run across any monkeyflower, we should pick it and take it to Hop Sing. He uses the leaves in salads.”
“You eat it?”
“We do. We learned it from the Paiutes. You’ll like it.”
Watching them, Lily relaxed in her saddle and decided that she could hardly ask for a more pleasant morning. Even Ben’s last-minute decision to come along could not shake her delight. Above the dark canopy of pine branches, she knew the sky was a faultless deep blue, with great snowy clouds only at the mountain tops, as if to extend the peaks farther up toward the heavens. Around them in the trees, the voices of several birds rose in official greeting. Adam tried to identify them for Michaela, but the series of notes was too diverse to catch and soon they all were laughing at the confusion.
At last they came out into a wide meadow and Adam touched Sport with his heels. The chestnut bolted forward, flinging his tail at the prospect of stretching his legs on the loamy turf. Michaela sent Conejo after him, in seconds ranging up alongside Sport, and then Adam gave the gelding his head and both horses flattened out into a full run. Lily couldn’t help smiling at the sight of the two figures tearing out across the expanse of waving grass, Michaela’s voice drifting back in the serene morning air. When Ben pulled up next to her, he too was beaming.
“After you!” he shouted and held the buckskin until she urged Skylark forward.
Immediately she felt a rush of exhilaration—the clean mountain air that bathed her face was intoxicating. Before her, she could see Michaela and Conejo hanging tight on Sport’s flank; behind her, the buckskin’s hooves pounded in pursuit, but she didn’t look back as they followed Adam and Michaela into a wide lane that led through an alley of ancient trees.
Suddenly the child was shouting with laughter, and a second later, Lily became aware that the terrain beneath them was undulating. Skylark’s ground-covering strides left them slightly airborne as they navigated the dips and rises, and she felt her own laughter gurgling in her throat at the carefree, soaring feeling. She could hardly contain a wide grin when finally she pulled up at the end of the lane. A moment later, Ben slid to a stop beside her, his eyes alight.
“I had a feeling you’d come this way,” he told Adam, chuckling. “It’s been a month of Sundays since we did that.”
“Let’s do it again!” Michaela cried.
Adam caught her reins. “On the way back.”
“What in the world was that?” Lily asked breathlessly.
Adam shrugged. “It’s just a funny way the land falls. Joe was the first one to do it at full speed, back when he was a kid. We save it for special guests”—he winked at her—“like you two. … Now, come on. We don’t have much farther to go.”
He selected a trail that ascended sharply through the trees and they rode in silence until they reached a bluff and dropped down its grassy side to an open space, where the brilliant spectacle of Lake Tahoe unfolded before them.
Lily’s breath caught in her throat. What had been amazing from the surface of the lake was nothing short of incredible from the mountains above it. A deep and unfailing royal blue stretched to the horizon, bounded by the shaded indigo of the shallow waters and the dark green of the forests that grew to the shore. It looked like satin, as if a silvered bolt of cloth had been thrown down among the trees.
For a few minutes, no one spoke and the only sound was the faint rustling of the wind. Adam reined Sport to the right, moving off a little farther along the incline, and Michaela followed him. Lily simply sat still, drinking in the scene, feeling the peace of the mountains steal over her.
She felt rather than saw Ben stop the buckskin to the left on the hill above her, and finally, unobtrusively, she allowed her eyes to be drawn to him. It was the first real, thorough study she’d been able to give him. The fancy suits were gone now … this was Ben Cartwright as he was day to day, in his own world. Within seconds her heart began to pound.
He was looking out over Lake Tahoe, his face very tan under the pale grey hat. His back was straight, his broad shoulders thrown back and imposing in a flowing white shirt like the one he’d worn at Michaela’s picnic. Today, however, only the sleeves hung gracefully; the rest of the shirt was molded to his body by a honey-colored leather vest that was fastened at the waist with silver conchos. Dark leather gloves emphasized his hands on the buckskin’s reins.
He caught her stare then and started down the slope toward her. There was something about the ease with which he sat the big horse that riveted Lily’s gaze; he was completely at home in this realm, confident of his place. As surely as the big granite peaks lived like sentinels above Lake Tahoe, Ben Cartwright belonged on their hillsides, among their stately trees. The strong, solid force of the man and his surroundings was palpable … and inside herself, Lily began to tremble.
Last fall, when he asked for strength, I had only fear to give, she thought suddenly. For one fleeting instant, she knew the fierce joy that might have been hers if only she’d opened the door to Ben Cartwright … allowed him to love her, loved him back. A man of this stature was not for the faint of heart; he required a strong woman—a strong partner … but what happiness a woman might know in return! Just the prospect of it made her overwhelming fears seem trivial. And the sorrow of her loss was almost too much to bear.
She jerked Skylark around and slapped her hard with the reins, sending her back up the hill in a mad scramble. At that moment, she hadn’t a coherent thought; she had no idea of where she was going or when she would stop—or how she would explain herself when she did. She just had to put as much distance as she could between herself and Ben Cartwright.
<<<<<>>>>>
Sitting quietly with Michaela, Adam heard Skylark’s grunt of surprise when Lily pulled sharply on the bit. He caught only a brief glimpse of her face as she drove the horse up the hill and then saw his father’s startled expression. Ben started to turn Buck to follow her, but Adam, with a stab of foreboding, moved faster.
“Stay with Pa!” he called to Michaela and squeezed Sport with his knees.
The excitable chestnut needed no further command; his ears pitched forward, sensing a race against Skylark, and Adam was nearly catapulted out of the saddle before he picked up the gelding’s rhythm and settled into the chase. He bent low over the horse, urging him faster and feeling the slap of branches when Lily veered off the main trail, running blindly down an old, unused logging track.
It was not long before Sport came up beside Skylark and Adam leaned over to catch Lily’s left rein, forcing her to slow down and finally to stop. “What are you trying to do?” he demanded. “Kill yourself?”
She didn’t answer. Surrounded by dense undergrowth and old trees, they had halted in an opening where even the sun failed to pierce the gloom.
“Well? Lily, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Please, Adam, let me go. I have to go back to the house. I can’t stay here.”
“What the hell happened?” His voice elevated several notes in concern.
She wouldn’t face him, but just trembled so violently that she could hardly sit upright. He let go of Skylark’s rein and sat back in his saddle. “Look, take your time and relax,” he said with false calm. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”
“Adam, I truly don’t know what’s happening to me,” she faltered, “but I know I can’t be around your father right now. I have to get back to the house—please, will you take me?”
“Don’t you think that’d look a little strange? What would you want me to tell him?”
“Anything—anything except that I can’t face him. Make up something, Adam. For his sake.”
“Lily, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not getting in between you and Pa—”
“Adam, I wouldn’t hurt him—I’m trying not to hurt him. Please. Please help me. I’ll explain it all to you when I can. I promise.”
She was starting to spiral out of control again. Adam set his jaw. “All right … for my father—but you’d better have a good explanation.”
“I’ll have the truth, Adam, whatever that is.”
He turned Sport. “Stay here.”
He found his father and Michaela where he’d left them on the bluff.
“What’s going on?” Ben asked, his face worried.
“Nothing, Pa. Lily’s just feeling a little sick, that’s all. I’ll take her back to the house.”
“Well—” Ben addressed Michaela. “We’ll ride over to that other lookout another time, my dear.”
“There’s no reason you can’t do it today,” Adam intervened hastily. “I’ll take Lily back and we’ll see you when you get home.” He caught Michaela’s eye meaningfully. “You make sure he shows you everything. It’ll be a while before we get back over in this direction.”
“I will,” she replied. He could see her trying to understand what he couldn’t say in words and he felt a rush of gratitude when she turned brightly to his father. “You don’t mind, do you, Uncle Ben? I’d really like to see Lake Tahoe from that other place. I want to draw it when we get back.”
Ben stared at Adam for a long minute and then smiled at Michaela. “Of course not, Mickey. It’s my pleasure.”
Before his father could raise any objections, Adam wheeled Sport away. Lily was waiting for him in the clearing, her eyes averted and her shoulders hunched over as if she’d been defeated by something. It didn’t help his temper to realize that he would have to wait to find out what. Without a word, he took her back down the mountain, using the quickest—and hardest—route, moderating the pace only for the horses’ sake.
Brownie came out of the barn as he lifted Lily down from Skylark. “I’m going to walk Mrs. Mercer in and then I’ll be back to take care of Sport,” he told the old man, and turned Lily toward the house. He accompanied her all the way to her room before he spoke again. “I don’t know what’s going on, Lily, but I expect you to tell me.”
“Adam, I—” She looked haunted.
“I know, not right now. After dinner tonight. Before, if you’re up to it—but no later than after dinner. Do you understand?”
She swallowed and nodded. Then she ducked her head and slipped through the doorway.
<<<<<>>>>>
Ben watched Adam ride over the crest of the hill and shifted thoughtfully in his saddle. Something was up; he just wasn’t sure what. Lily was one of the most resilient women he’d ever met … the idea of her suddenly “taking sick” was ludicrous. There was no explanation—unless it was something as mundane and embarrassing as perhaps a part of her corset had broken or her time of the month had arrived unexpectedly. A slow, lopsided smile curled on his lips. There was a subject he hadn’t considered in years!
He suddenly became aware that Michaela was studying Buck intently, and he let his smile extend to his eyes. “You know, if you’re going to count every hair on his hide, we’ll probably be late back to dinner.”
She shook her head. “No, I was just trying to decide who he is. Adam once made me figure out who all of our horses would be if they were people.”
“Really? And who would Buck be?”
“A schoolteacher, I think. He’s very wise, and I’ll bet you can count on him to set a good example for the other horses. He’d probably dress in shabby brown suits because he wouldn’t be too concerned with his appearance.” She gazed at the silver ornament which decorated the buckskin’s bridle. “Except that he might have one really lovely pin to wear on his coat—something that maybe a girl he loved gave him when he was a student.”
Ben regarded her with interest. “That’s very astute—you’re more right than you know.” He patted Buck’s neck. “And tell me, how do you see Adam’s Sport? Who is he?”
She giggled. “Oh, Sport’s easy! He’s an opera tenor.”
Ben tried to wipe what he knew was a silly look of astonishment off his face. “What do you know about opera tenors, Mickey?”
“Papa and Mama had one to tea last winter. He gave a recital at our house. All sorts of people were invited, and they were all excited that he could sing something that had a lot of high C’s in it. At first I couldn’t figure out what all the fuss would be, but then I knew—each time he got ready to sing a high C, you could see the happiness welling up in him, and he would lean back and just fling out this beautiful note.”
“And how is that like Sport?”
“Well, Sport’s that way. He’s such a show-off, but he really does have talent. I was watching him in that field this morning, before he got to running fast. He was swapping leads with almost every stride—you know, leading with one leg and then the other. Just because he could.”
“That can be very annoying,” Ben said.
“I guess. But Doyle—you remember Doyle, our coachman—told me that in the really fine formal riding schools, they teach horses to do that on command and it’s considered quite special. And then when Adam let him loose—gosh, he loves running. Like that tenor loved to sing.” She shrugged. “He seems to have so much fun. I think it’s really nice that Adam plays with him instead of trying to force him to be something he’s not.”
“Sport could use more manners.”
“With another rider, I suppose.”
“You may be right, dear.” Ben lightened his voice. “Now, what about it? Want to ride over to that other overlook?”
“Yes, please.”
They rode side-by-side to the next vantage point and Ben enjoyed Michaela’s unrestrained enthusiasm for the view before her. He answered her questions about how they’d come to live on the shores of Lake Tahoe and their early days at the Ponderosa, and by the time they turned away from the promontory to head back to the house, he’d begun to understand better the uncommon alliance she enjoyed with his son. When they returned by another trail, he apologized to her that they wouldn’t be repeating the ride over the rolling lane.
“That’s okay,” she replied. “I don’t mind. We can do it again another day. Besides, Lily really liked it—I wouldn’t want to do it without her.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“Uncle Ben, why is it so different here? When Adam’s in San Francisco, we always go to look at the ocean and it’s very beautiful, but it’s not as splendid as this.”
Ben smiled. “There’re many beautiful places on this earth, Michaela. Which ones you love best are entirely up to you.”
“I guess I love this one best. I hope Lily likes it, too. … The last time we went to look at the ocean, we took her with us. She wasn’t quite the same this winter, and Adam and I hoped we could make her feel better.”
In spite of himself, Ben allowed a ripple of curiosity at her words. “What do you mean, she wasn’t the same?”
“Oh, you know … she was kind of quiet, just not like she usually is. She’s been getting better, though.”
“Well, I’m sure you and Adam helped her. Sometimes there’s nothing better than just being with your friends.”
“I think so, too.”
<<<<<>>>>>
Lily stood by the bed, shaking as though she’d just run for her life. Oh, my God, she thought. With a sick feeling, she suddenly was reminded of the afternoon last October when she’d broken off her relationship with Ben Cartwright. She’d nearly lost her equilibrium that day—the fears and insecurities had seemed to come at her from everywhere, sweeping away her thoughts. It was not pleasant to remember.
I hate it when I don’t know myself, she reflected. I hate not knowing how I feel about something, particularly something—someone—as important as Ben Cartwright. Last fall, she’d been so sure. As lovely as he was, as much as she had come to care for him, she could not risk her life over him, and that’s what it had felt as though she was doing. Giving one’s heart away was courting disaster, because if the loved one left, for whatever reason, the poor heart would be broken … as hers had been when Howard died.
She had never expected to care for Ben as she had; if she’d realized what a hold he would take on her mind and spirit, she’d have tempered their friendship from the beginning. But as the comfortable rapport between them grew, she hadn’t guessed its potential—until, with the speed of summer lightning, both of them had awakened to each other in ways they couldn’t control. He had shown definite signs of becoming the sun, the moon and the stars of her universe.
And so that accursed afternoon … the day she’d told him she could not see him, couldn’t love him. Her stomach turned queasy again just remembering it. She’d hurt him so badly, and hurt herself as well. After the initial session of nerves and terror, she’d lain in bed for three days, pushing him out of her heart and her thoughts. It had been many more days before she’d ceased being jumpy and short with her staff, before she’d resumed going out, getting used to hearing friends ask if she were feeling all right. Yes, thank you, I’m feeling just fine, thank you … No, I’m not. I’m sick inside. I feel like half a person … And then she would remind herself that at least she was safe; she would never again know the life-stopping loss of a love.
That was what had gotten her through it: the knowledge that essentially she’d had no choice. She certainly hadn’t the inner fortitude to survive another loss. She did, however, have the strength to accept her fate, and by drilling herself that there was no other way, she’d reconstructed her life. Quite well, actually. With her flurry of social activities and causes, she’d become the veritable patron saint of San Francisco. If a bit grey, life was nevertheless good, and she’d actually set out for Nevada believing all that emotional upheaval was behind her. Now she wondered how she could have been so stupid.
She threw herself on the bed and tried to figure out what had so totally destroyed her morning—and, it was beginning to look like now, her life. Gingerly examining the brief memory, she saw him again … saw the leather vest and the long black tie that was knotted at his throat, filling the space where his collar opened and draping over his chest. She longed to touch the vest; it looked as soft as velvet or silk. She was not going to think about that chest, or how solid it seemed when one was held safe against it.
He was so much like the mountain range that was his home. Last fall, she’d come to know his gentle side, his sense of humor, his warm caring—and yes, his passion. She had only guessed at that other powerful dimension … the part of him which was as timeless as the hills around him. And she’d never really seen it until today.
What in the hell am I going to do? she asked herself, and allowed a small, sad smile. Every swear word she’d ever heard through the open cabin window on her late husband’s ship came back to mind from over the years. She couldn’t remember ever uttering one aloud before—so today, she thought wryly, would be a good place to start. She’d messed up good and proper this time.
<<<<<>>>>>
Somehow Lily made it to dinner that night. After her trauma, Adam was amazed that she looked as normal as she did; a little pale, she was decidedly subdued, which puzzled Hoss and Joe after her good spirits of the night before, but for the most part she simply looked tired.
As everyone rose from the table, he slid his hand under her elbow and said smoothly, “I promised Lily a moonlight stroll.”
She managed a feeble smile at the startled faces around her and accompanied him out.
“They’re going to think we have some sort of assignation,” she protested as he closed the door behind her.
“I don’t care what they think,” he replied shortly. “I want some answers.” He led the way first to the bench next to the big pine, then decided it was too close to the house and steered her instead toward the trees beyond the barn. “You can take all night if you want to, Lily, but we’re not going in until I know what you’re up to.”
“I’m not ‘up to’ anything,” she argued in a voice that wound up more of a wail.
The note of pain caught his attention and he didn’t speak again until they were well out of earshot of the house. “All right …” He made a visible effort to be more sympathetic. “Look, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not trying to hurt Pa—but I want to know what happened today.”
She looked at him hesitantly. “How much do you know about your father and me?”
“He hasn’t discussed you. It’s not the sort of thing he’d talk about.”
“All right, then.” She steadied her voice. “You might have guessed that when we met in San Francisco last fall, we became—we—”
“I suspected.”
“Your father wanted to see if we could carry on our—our friendship … see what could develop between us.” She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered. Automatically Adam took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Thank you. At any rate, I was not very wise. In fact, I was thoroughly frightened. You have to believe—I never would have led him on. I didn’t know how I felt, except that I liked him very much, until the night of my party. Then I realized that I was falling in love with him, and the next morning I panicked.”
“That’s understandable,” he allowed. “And my father can be a very understanding man.”
She shook her head ruefully. “I didn’t give him a chance.”
“I see. So what happened today?”
“I realized that I’d made a mistake. I can’t explain it, Adam. When he turned to ride toward me and I saw the Sierras behind him, I just knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that without him … my life is empty.”
Adam whistled through his teeth. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I am! I asked myself that all afternoon and the truth is—yes.” She sighed and her voice became subdued. “I suppose I’ve loved him all along; you might think you can just end love, but you can’t—or at least, I can’t. I did a good job of fooling myself—I was very blind. But I’m not now and I won’t be again.”
Adam exhaled a long, thoughtful breath and gazed into the trees. In the moonlight, the pure white of his shirt stood out eerily against the navy satin of his vest, but his expression was hidden in shadow. When he finally spoke, he wasn’t having to manufacture his sympathy. “What’re you going to do about it?”
“For the moment, nothing.”
“Do you think that’s fair? He deserves to know how you feel.”
“I’ll tell him after Hoss’ wedding.”
“Why wait? What if he feels the same way about you?”
“What if he doesn’t? There’s a very good chance he doesn’t. He certainly gave no indication of it last night.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Perhaps … perhaps not.” She grasped his arm. “Adam, I’m not trying to play games or be difficult. You think I wouldn’t like to run in there right now and throw my arms around him? Tell him I love him? I’d give everything I own to do that. But what if he doesn’t still love me? You know your father—he’d feel terrible about it, right now when he should be so completely happy for Hoss. And there I’d be, like some ghost he couldn’t exorcise! He wouldn’t even be able to walk into his own house without feeling bad, thinking he’s hurting me. You know that’s how he’d be.”
He nodded reluctantly and turned away. In the dim light, she was very lovely … and her distress was immensely touching. For a second, he almost forgot that she was his father’s woman—and then he saw her eyes and the pain that wasn’t for him. It’s too bad Pa isn’t standing here in my place, he thought.
When she spoke, her voice was carefully moderated. “At least this way, no matter what, it’s what he expected when he said it was all right for me to come here. It’s what he’s prepared for.”
Adam rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, as if trying to alleviate a headache. “All right, I guess that makes a certain amount of sense. But what now?”
She sighed, her eyes a rapidly-changing reflection of hope and fear. “I suppose … now I just need to get a hold of myself. I have to be myself, so that if he’s forgotten what we were to each other, he’ll have a fair chance to remember it. And if it’s not to be … then pray God I have the grace to accept that. But it’s not going to be easy.”
Chapter
Three
BEN awakened before dawn, restless and fitful and unable to go back to sleep. For several minutes, he lay in bed, watching the dark sky beyond his window slowly lighten and then flame with the sunrise. The stillness of a spring morning usually was inspiring; today, it simply made him impatient. He threw back the covers and got up, padded to the wash stand and splashed his face.
The clock on his mantel read five minutes until six. It seemed strange not to have every hour claimed by some form of work. He’d told Michaela he’d take her out to the cattle herd and that she could ride astride, but that wasn’t until mid-morning.
There was one thing he could do. Adam had said Roy Coffee wanted to see him; he could ride into town and be back to join Julia and the children for breakfast if he didn’t waste time. He shaved, dressed hurriedly and headed for the barn. In the cool morning air, Buck would be ready for a run.
He found Roy poring over paperwork and the last of a pot of coffee that he declared was “strong enough to walk to Texas.” Ben declined to share.
“I don’ know if this is sumthin’ that oughta concern us or not,” the lawman told him, “but I’ve got a bad feelin’ about it, Ben.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Hec McWhirter, as usual. He’s been talkin’ around, and The Advocate’s publishin’ everythin’ he’s sayin’ and doin’. The dif’rence this time is that I’m startin’ to hear talk that maybe he’s right. Talk from folks I don’t usually hear from—like Al Pennin’ton at the Truckee Union Bank and Marcus Strasser at Stockmen’s Savings, and some o’ the miners.”
“What’s McWhirter saying that’s giving him so much currency?”
“Well, mainly he’s sayin’ that as soon as we’re a state, the U.S. government’s gonna pass a special tax on the silver mines to finance fightin’ the Confed’racy. Accordin’ to him, it’s gonna be a real stiff tax that’ll cripple our economy.”
“That’s utter nonsense!”
“I know and you know—you are sure, aren’t you?”
“Of course I’m sure. For one thing, there’re plenty of ways Congress could raise money from the Nevada territory without waiting for statehood, if it needed the funds that badly. But even if it did consider a war tax, the money couldn’t be collected until next year, and by next year the Rebellion will likely be over, the way it’s going. So it’s highly unlikely that would happen.”
“Well, someone needs to tell that to the folks who’re list’nin’ to McWhirter. The ones that worry me, Ben, are the mine owners. Made sense that they’d be squawkin’ if they were afraid of more taxes—but if it’s as you say, how come they’re against it?”
Ben exhaled sharply. “That’s what I’d like to know. And just which mine owners are backing McWhirter?”
“Ellington o’ the Blackbird, Harrison o’ the Pericles, folks like that. Nobody from the Ophir or Gould & Curry or the Yellow Jacket—none o’ the big boys. But heck, Ben, even the littler ones have money and people’re liable to listen to ’em.”
“The question is, what do they stand to gain from this? I wouldn’t be surprised if somebody—and maybe it’s the mine owners you mentioned—hasn’t been behind McWhirter all along. But why?”
“Beats me.”
<<<<<>>>>>
It was quiet when Adam, carrying his boots, crept downstairs. The sun was barely up and the house was still asleep. He’d have enjoyed sleeping in, but the glow of gold over his windowsill had prevented it.
On the porch, he shoved his feet into the boots and headed to the barn. It was cool and pretty out, the sort of day that would make one fall in love with the Sierras … although, at this point, it didn’t look like their guests needed any help along those lines.
Halfway through the barn door, he came to a halt. He was not, after all, the first one up. He catalogued that Buck was gone, so his father was already out, but that was no surprise; what brought him up short was Michaela, perched on the wall of Sport’s stall, chattering away at the chestnut gelding. Sport’s nose was deep in his grain bucket, but his ears flicked back and forth politely.
Michaela turned around before he could speak. “Hi. You’re up early.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“I thought I’d get a start on things—like getting to know Sport.” She grinned. “Since I have to convince you to let me ride him before I go home.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You said you’d think about it.”
“I reconsidered.”
She stuck out her tongue.
“Sweetheart, I know you ride very well—it’s just that as good a horse as Sport is, he has a few bad habits. I put up with them, but I’d rather not risk your getting hurt.”
“I know he pitches his head like a son-of-a-gun, but I—”
His eyebrows rose. “You’re not furthering your cause with words like that.”
“You said use my imagination in my writing. I’m just trying to make my language more colorful. It’s easier to practice with talking than with writing.”
“Well, find some other words. ‘Son-of-a-gun’ isn’t acceptable.”
“Boy, are you grouchy this morning.”
Against his will, he grinned. “No, I’m not. How can I be in bad mood with you here?”
“It’s beyond me. Sport and I are feeling great.” As if to agree with her, Sport snuffled a final time at his feed bin and turned to rub his muzzle against her knee. “Adam … what was going on between Lily and Uncle Ben yesterday?”
“What d’you mean?”
“Well, Lily was all upset. I didn’t say anything to Uncle Ben, but I wondered.” She struggled with her words and then finally shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s just something funny between them. I can’t explain it.”
“I think it’s just that they’re friends, Mickey. And friends sometimes have disagreements.”
“Yes, but they didn’t argue. And don’t you think they’re more than friends?”
“What I think is that it’s best to let people work things out for themselves.”
“You mean, just let Lily and Uncle Ben find out for themselves that they’re more than friends?”
“Yes.”
She nodded thoughtfully and then asked, “Why don’t they just say something about it?”
“Ah … well, adults usually take the long way around things.” He smiled at her. “Doesn’t mean it’s the best way; it’s just how we do it.”
“That’s not a very good answer.”
“No, I suppose not. … All right, look—when you say they might be more than just friends, well, for adults, that’s a big thing. I’m sure it is for people your age, too, but if you mean what I think you mean, which is that Pa and Lily are sweet on each other”—he nailed her with an inquisitive look and she nodded—“then it’s just not something you take lightly. You wait and make sure that those feelings are valid.”
“You mean so you won’t get hurt?”
“Yes, and so that you won’t hurt the other person, too.”
“How could it hurt someone to tell them you like them?”
“Well, it’s not that it hurts their feelings so much as it puts them in an awkward position if they don’t like you back that much. And sometimes, they might like you better as they get to know you, so you don’t want to scare them off by saying something too early.”
“I think maybe you’re not telling me everything.”
Adam flushed. “Maybe not everything. Some things, I think, would better come from your mother—and not right away. Do me a favor and leave a few things to learn when you get older.”
“Has something to do with kissing, huh?”
“What makes you say that?”
She grinned. “Whenever something comes up about that, Mama always says wait till I’m older.”
Adam leaned over the stall partition next to her. “It’s all about growing up, Michaela. It’s best if you do it a little at a time.”
“Did you do it a little at a time?”
“Ah … no. I didn’t have a choice.” She was staring into his face, her eyes so painfully honest that he couldn’t hide his own feelings. “That’s why I’d like to see you do it better.”
“I see.” She scratched gently next to Sport’s ears and the big gelding closed his eyes. “That’s why you tell me some stuff, isn’t it? So that I have it easier than you did?”
He nodded and then his eyes betrayed a humor that lightened their sudden seriousness. “It helps that you’re a rather advanced thinker and can make use of what I say.”
She stuck out her tongue at him again, even though she was clearly pleased. When she finally spoke, it was in a voice that Adam recognized; she was trying to fit the new information into her own experience. “I guess I can understand not always saying what you feel. I don’t always, especially if I don’t know exactly how I feel. Maybe that’s it for Uncle Ben and Lily.”
“Could be.”
“So … if I can’t say ‘son-of-a-gun’,” she giggled, her expression telling him she’d repeated the phrase just to get a rise out of him, “how do I make my language more creative?”
“Ah …why don’t you pick one subject and come up with as many different descriptions and adjectives as you can? Make your mind reach.”
She nodded. “All right. I’ll try that.” She braided the top of Sport’s forelock and frowned restlessly. “I want to write something special.”
The bald ambition of her words struck Adam. He knew well enough that she had no ulterior motives; she just wanted to do something good because good was what one should want to do. It made her statement resonate all the more within him.
“Do you think I’m crazy? Is it stupid for me to say that?”
“No, sweetheart, it’s not crazy at all.” He pushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “And if anyone can write something special, I know it’ll be you.”
She ducked her head shyly. “Thanks.”
He lifted her off the wall of Sport’s stall. “Now, c’mon, let’s get some breakfast.”
<<<<<>>>>>
Ben was back at the Ponderosa to begin the day with everyone else, which he decided was a good thing, because by mid-morning, they’d all scattered in different directions. Adam drove Lily to see a waterfall near one of the north meadows, while Julia went with Hoss to work on his new house, something Hoss initially opposed on the grounds that guests shouldn’t be working. He’d quickly changed his mind when he realized that Julia and his betrothed, Eleanor Vance, seemed predestined to be friends.
In the barn, Ben advised Michaela on getting Conejo ready, enjoying her concentration as she figured out that if she stood on a box and he helped a little, she could throw one of the lighter saddles up on the horse’s back. Conejo seemed to like her and stood calmly while she pulled the cinch as tight as she could, and in her gentle hands, even lowered his head to receive his bridle, something Ben had never seen him do for anyone else. As they rode out to the herd and the day went on, he was proud that she didn’t shrink from the rougher aspects of handling cattle, and he was almost as disappointed as she when he told her she’d ridden long enough for her first day astride. He felt so bad about it that he unwisely agreed to race her on a flat stretch of road and suffered a sound defeat, which, he decided, was actually worth it because she nearly bounced out of her saddle, she was so thrilled to win.
In the evening, they were invited to dinner at Providence Ranch, the home of Hoss’ fiancée and her family. Dressed and ready before the others, Ben was the first one down. He had just poured a short whiskey when he heard someone descending the stairs and glanced up to find Lily.
“You’re looking very fit,” he said, realizing it was the first time he’d been alone with her since San Francisco. “No more spells of sickness?”
“No.” She smiled at him. “I think it must have been the altitude, or maybe I was simply overwhelmed by the Sierras. I’m thinking very clearly now.”
Something in her quiet certainty resounded within him. For once, he didn’t feel quite so off-balance around her. Perhaps they were achieving some sort of peace between them, he thought, or maybe he was finally beginning to get over her … but noticing the way the skirt of her dark green gown swirled when she walked, he realized that wasn’t very likely.
She sank into the red chair opposite his. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I like this room.”
“It’s not what you’d call fancy.” He handed her a sherry.
“No. It’s better than that—it’s comfortable. It makes one feel quite safe.” She looked around. “I can’t help but think there are some interesting stories here … like the horns over the fireplace. Are they from one of your bulls?”
Ben nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact, they are. They belonged to Domino, the last longhorn sire we used here. I’m a little sentimental—he was a great old fellow.”
“Why do you say he was the last? Don’t you breed cattle now?”
“Yes, of course. But we’re breeding in a new line from England called the Hereford. We brought a herd sire from New York a few years ago—” He broke off. “You can’t possibly be interested in this.”
Lily’s eyebrows arched. “Is this where you tell me that you’ve never known a woman to be interested in cattle before?”
He chuckled. “No. I might think it, but I’ve learned not to say that to you. Good heavens, Lily, I know men who would be bored talking about cattle.”
“Well, it may not be—to use one of Aubrey’s words—scintillating, but I have to admit that I’m a little interested. Until you put beef on a plate, I know absolutely nothing about it. So why don’t you have something from your first Hereford sire, rather than the last of a line you no longer use?”
Ben stared at the horns which extended like wings over the fireplace. “Domino helped put us on the map. I guess you’d say he’ll always be remembered here.”
Before she could respond, the muffled thud of steps in the hall announced the arrival of Joe and Adam, and the others were not far behind. There was a good deal of confusion and maneuvering as everyone got organized, and then finally, like a small army, they set out for Providence Ranch.
It was early twilight when they arrived at the spread which was about half an hour from the house. Ben couldn’t help remembering—as he always did when he visited there, now that Ed Vance was gone—what it had been like in the beginning … back when they’d all just settled on the eastern side of the Sierras. Ed and Aurora Vance had been the first family to arrive after them, young and hopeful and just as broke as he had been. Eleanor had been a baby then, and they’d all helped each other through those early winters. Time and again, Aurora had come to the Ponderosa to nurse his two boys, painstakingly showing him how to make remedies for all manner of sickness, before he’d married Marie. And even though their temperaments had been very different, she and his third wife had become close friends, the only two women for miles sometimes, perhaps not soulmates but certainly staunch allies.
He’d been back to Providence often since Ed’s death, but it was still painful. The tall, broad-shouldered rancher had been one of his closest associates in the fight to establish a rule of law and a viable school in Virginia City; never hot-headed and endlessly patient, Ed had stood by him in so many difficult situations. He missed his friend sorely—one of his dearest memories was their mutual joy when Hoss and Eleanor had announced their intention to marry.
Joe held the horses in front of the ranch house, and once again, Ben was struck by its homey New England quality. Aurora Vance was from Rhode Island and Ed had built her a house which would have fit easily on the far-away east coast. A white clapboard building with black shutters and a sloping shingle roof, it was surrounded by carefully planned and tended flower gardens.
He stepped down from the surrey and helped Julia out.
“It’s very pretty here,” she said, taking in the colorful blooms and the grove of pines that surrounded the house. “How do they run it, since Eleanor’s father died?”
“Ed had the same foreman for years, and he’s stayed on with Aurora,” Ben answered, nodding at a large barn and a low, rambling bunkhouse about fifty yards away. “Once Hoss and Eleanor are married, it wouldn’t surprise me if he starts reporting to Hoss.”
Inside, the impression of cozy security was furthered in a parlor of patterned wallpaper and settees with sinuous curves and tufted upholstery. The tables and chests had an angular, Gothic look and featured marble tops, some now decorated with doilies and lace runners. Ben smiled as he recalled a few years back, when Ed had ordered it all for his wife; the family was doing well from their cattle ventures and the silver mines, and his friend’s first thought had been to give Aurora and the girls what they’d have had if they’d been living “back home.”
He came out of his reverie as introductions were being made, thankful to learn that illness had prevented Aurora’s sister, the predatory Louise Calthrop, from joining them.
He smiled, too, as he regarded the woman who would soon be his daughter-in-law. Eleanor was just what he’d hoped for his middle son; a tall girl of statuesque lines, she was not lost next to Hoss. Her hair was of a rare golden hue that verged on red, and her vivid green eyes possessed a friendly merriment that reflected a nature as sweet and kind as the man she loved.
Her younger sister, Edwina, enjoyed the same coloring and generous personality, but added a liveliness that made her popular with the territory’s young men and a constant challenge to her mother.
And their mother … Ben greeted Aurora Vance warmly, trying to hide his concern at how hard Ed’s death had been on her. Overnight, it seemed that her normally pale blonde looks had gone ashen. Without the spark of energy that characterized her daughters—and herself, when Ed had been alive—she appeared not golden, but merely colorless and too often brittle. She had long been a bit staid and opinionated, a little out of place in the west, but she’d always had a good heart and he grieved for her as well as for her husband.
As he settled into the big, overstuffed chair that had been Ed’s favorite, he pushed the sad thoughts from his mind and concentrated on enjoying the evening. He watched as Lily chatted with Eleanor’s mother, perceiving that everyone had given their hostess over to her as if they had escaped a tiresome duty.
Aurora’s voice carried to him. “You lived in New York! That’s not far from where our family is from—it’s so different back there, you know—”
As if she felt his gaze upon her, Lily looked up. For a moment, their glances fixed, and she smiled quickly with her eyes. Then she turned back to the conversation. A slow warmth crept over him; it was as if they were back at her party … that night in October, when she’d attended to her guests as he’d waited for her—enjoyed the festivities, but waited for her. From across the room, he’d feel her speak to him. As though he’d absorbed a little of her quiet composure, he sank more comfortably into the chair and sipped the whiskey Edwina had brought him.
It was not long before dinner was ready and Ben thought with a private grin that for Hoss’ sake, it was a good thing Eleanor came from a family of accomplished cooks. From the opening course of wild mushroom soup through the grilled trout, the Providence beef, the potatoes, fresh asparagus and relishes, to the salad of spring greens, the meal could not be faulted. Imported wines encouraged conversation that ranged over several topics, involved much laughter and engaged everyone at the table.
By the time dessert was served, the atmosphere was quieting and Mrs. Vance turned the discussion to Nevada’s social conventions, and how important proper behavior would be at Hoss’ and Eleanor’s wedding. Replete with Eleanor’s Citron Silver Cake, Joe rolled his eyes theatrically and enjoyed watching Adam and Edwina struggle to hide their laughter.
Aurora Vance sniffed at their disrespect and continued as if she hadn’t heard them. “Our younger residents simply must be taught how to go on, and how will they learn if a good example isn’t set for them? Why, I’m afraid that if spirits are served at our reception, some of our guests are liable to forget where they are! How they might carry on!” She paused and added, “Don’t you agree, Mrs. Mercer?”
Lily