"Don’t leave, Adam!" the four year_old sleepy voice halted Adam at the door.

He sighed heavily, "I thought you were asleep, Hoss!" he walked back into the room and leaned over the bed, "Now look, you don’t want me to have to tell Pa that you didn’t take your naps while he was gone, do you?"

The child on the bed shook his head, his wide blue eyes staring at his brother.

"Then close your eyes and think quiet thoughts, " Adam’s voice grew soft and took on a gentle, calming cadence, "And pretty soon you’ll be fast asleep."

"You won’t leave while I’m asleep, will ya’, Adam?" Hoss murmured.

"I promise I won’t even leave the house. I’m just going to go downstairs for a little bit." Adam assured him, trying again to make it to the door.

"If Pa comes home, you’ll wake me, won’t you?" Hoss called.

Adam turned, impatiently patient, "Yes, Hoss, I’ll wake you right away."

As the ten_year_old headed down the stairs, he heaved a sigh. Hoss was growing more and more clingy as day after day passed and Pa stayed in New Orleans. Adam understood that it was a long, hard trip, and that Pa needed to complete as much business as possible while he was there, but he didn’t understand why Pa hadn’t even sent a telegram in over a week.

Mr. Harper, Pa’s foreman, had been staying in the house with them, and of course, their cook, Hop Sing kept a close eye on the boys, but Adam was beginning to feel his father’s absence acutely. He knew that Mr. Harper and Hop Sing were beginning to worry a bit too, Hop Sing was becoming more and more lenient with the boys, while Mr. Harper was getting downright distracted every time he saw one of the boys.

Adam wandered into the kitchen, "Hop Sing?"

"Yes, Adam?" Hop Sing was distracted.

"May I have a cookie, please?"

Hop Sing paused, and glanced out the window at the sun, then back at the boy sternly, "One! Not spoil dinnah with many cookies!"

"Yes, thank you, Hop Sing!" Adam replied calmly, biting back his grin until his back was safely turned. The cook liked to yell and scold, but he knew that the crusty little man was really quite kind underneath.

The boy walked around the great room, then moved toward his father’s desk. He had intended to take a walk outside and perhaps read for a while, but he had promised Hoss not to leave the house. It was beginning to wear on him, this constant "parenthood" for Hoss, but he refused to give up a single one of his responsibilities to Mr. Harper, or any of the ladies that came out every now and then to check on them, or even Hop Sing.

Adam sat in his father’s chair, and looked with interest at the ledgers Mr. Harper had left open on the desk. He didn’t understand all the tiny notations beside the entries, but he certainly knew how to work the figures that marched down the page. He started at the top and carefully worked his way down, pleased to discover that Mr. Harper had kept an accurate account.

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and looked at it curiously. It was folded over, and had Mr. Cartwright written in his teacher’s fine script. She had handed it to him after school yesterday with a big smile and told him to give it to his father when he returned home. He had a fairly good idea what was in it. He had received the highest marks in mathematics and history in the entire school, and had literally spelled down every other student, even the teenagers. His teacher, Ms. Jansen, couldn’t stop bragging about him around town and after church. A pink tinged his cheeks, it was getting embarrassing. His fingers played with the open end, but ultimately he put it carefully back in his pocket.

The sound of a buggy entering the yard startled him out of his reverie. He stood from the desk and moved into the center of the room. A familiar voice greeted his ears as the door opened.

"Welcome home, dear!"

The words didn’t register with the boy who knew only that his father was home at last.

"PA!" he cried, running toward him.

He skidded to a halt when realized his father was not alone. Pa was actually escorting a woman into the house.

"Adam!" he exclaimed, opening his arms.

Despite his confusion, for a moment all he wanted to do was fling his arms around his father and hold on tight. But Pa released him quickly, and turned to the woman, "Marie, this is my son, Adam. Adam..." he took a deep breath and smiled, "this is your new mother."

Adam felt like all the air had been forced from his lungs, a new mother? Mechanically, he extended his hand to meet the one that Marie held out, but his eyes were on Pa.

"I’m so glad to finally meet you, Adam," the woman spoke, a French accent lacing her words, "Your Pa has talked about you so much."

Adam turned to meet her gaze, his face a study in masked confusion, "Yes, ma’am." was all he could think to reply.

He knew that Pa was looking at him expectantly, but he just couldn’t accept it. Had Pa lost his mind? He had to be playing a practical joke, although in his heart, Adam knew better.

"Well," he said finally, backing up slowly, "I’d best go get Hoss, he’s taking his nap upstairs..."

"Oh, don’t waken him," Marie said concernedly.

"I promised him I’d wake him if Pa came home, ma’am." Adam replied, respectful, yet resenting the familiar, easy way she took charge.

"Let him sleep, Adam." Ben chuckled, "He’s only four, he still needs a long nap. Come on, Son, you and I can bring the luggage in."

Adam followed his father silently outside. Ben started untying the ropes that secured the luggage, then looked down to meet his son’s accusatory gaze.

"Now, I know this is a shock for you, Adam, but I know you’ll love Marie. She’s a wonderful woman, and I hope you’ll make her feel welcome and at home."

"You really got married again?" Adam asked, trying to hide the disbelief he felt.

"Yes," Ben had to smile, "Did you think it was impossible that your old father could fall in love again?"

"No," Adam paused, then added quietly, "But, what about...Mama Inger...and my Mama?"

Ben stopped and knelt down to look his son in the eye, "I won’t ever forget them, Adam. But I have my life to live, I can’t just stop living because they’re dead. I loved your mother very much, and I loved Inger very much, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love another woman now."

Adam started to protest, but Ben cut him off with a look, "Now, Adam, we’ll talk more about this later. Right now we have a job to do."

Adam sighed heavily, "Yes, Pa."

But it seemed "later" was doomed to be put off forever. Two weeks passed, and Ben had yet to find time to have that private talk with his son. Adam was finding it was easier and easier to avoid having much contact with either Marie or Pa. After school, he usually went straight to the barn, and managed to spend the greatest part of the afternoon doing his chores. Hoss had immediately bonded with Marie, so Adam had no qualms about going straight to his room to work on homework until suppertime. After supper, he usually attempted to go back to his room as soon as possible, pleading either schoolwork or sleepiness as an excuse. It rather stung him that Pa rarely tried to stop him, he was just so absorbed with Marie, he didn’t even notice the tension that was building in his oldest son as one after one the little duties he treasured were taken away. There was the night that Hoss asked Marie to put him to bed, and the next night when he flat refused for Adam to tell him a bedtime story, only Marie.

Adam had yet to give his father the note from his teacher, somehow he felt he couldn’t around Marie, and finding Pa without Marie was next to impossible. He kept it under his pillow, just in case Pa should happen to surprise him. It didn’t happen. In fact, it seemed Marie was trying harder to interact with him than his own father.

"Hello, Adam, how was school?" asked Marie as he came in the door.

"Alright," he muttered, then raised his voice as she continued to look at him expectantly, "It was fine, we had a spelling bee today."

"Oh, how did you do?" she seemed genuinely interested.

Adam considered not replying, but somehow couldn’t force himself to be that rude, "I won." he stated simply.

"That’s wonderful, Adam!" she exclaimed excitedly, "We must celebrate tonight!"

"There’s no need." Adam replied, then changed the subject, "How’s Hoss? I haven’t really seen much of him the past few days."

Marie smiled, "He’s taking a nap, but if you’d like to play with him once he wakes up, I’d appreciate it. He’s really quite a handful!"

"He’s not so bad, if you know his moods." Adam said, trying to hide the defensive edge in his voice. He just refused to accept Marie as part of the family. Pa could marry whomever he chose, but that didn’t mean that Adam had to like it, or be anything other than polite to her.

"Well, I suppose I could learn a lot from you, about Hoss, and about your father." Marie said tactfully, adding truthfully, "I suppose you know him better than anyone. Ben talked constantly about his sons and how close you were."

Were! Adam stressed in his mind, but replied calmly, acting on a half_formed idea, "Yes, I guess you don’t know much about him, do you? Well, he’s pretty patient, unless you do something stupid. Like right before he left, I tripped on my way out of the henhouse and broke most of the eggs. I sure got a lecture for that one!" Adam neglected to tell her that he had been reading while he was carrying the eggs, something his father constantly told him not to do.

"Oh?" Marie said in an encouraging voice, although Adam didn’t see the flash of humor in her eyes.

"And be sure to get him home right after church. There for a while it was getting embarrassing, he was asking a lady to lunch practically every Sunday. I kept telling him that we should get home, what with Hoss and all, but he never would listen to me." he was making this part entirely up, and hurried on before she could interrupt with a question, "Of course, now that he’s married and all, I’m sure it’ll be different, you shouldn’t have to worry so much about that...."

Marie was trying desperately to keep a straight face and didn’t answer. The long silence made Adam uncomfortable.

"Well, I’ll be getting up to my room to do some homework. I’ll play with Hoss some if you want me to. I used to have to watch him all the time, Pa never really seems to have time to take care of him."

With that parting, doubtful shot, Adam hurried up the stairs and into his room. He had a feeling that Pa would be furious if Marie repeated half of what he had told her. His head came up and his jaw set, let him be angry. At least he’d be talking to Adam, which was more than could be said for the past few weeks. A small, sarcastic smile curved his lips, perhaps "yelling at Adam" would be a better term.

But Ben didn’t have the chance to yell. He came in only long enough to grab some papers off his desk, give Marie a quick kiss, and ruffle the hair of the boys as they played, and say he’d be gone overnight. Adam stared after him a wave of disappointment and loneliness rushing over him. He didn’t realize just how clearly his face reflected his emotions, until he caught Marie’s sympathetic gaze. He arched an eyebrow and quickly blanked all emotion from his face. He was rewarded by a surprised blink from Marie. But he couldn’t keep the emotions down forever, so with a muttered apology and excuse about some more homework to do, he rushed out of the room and up the stairs.

The note from his teacher was still under his pillow, he picked it up and stared at it for a long moment. Then, with a hot tear welling up, he took the globe off of his lamp and held the edge of the paper over it. The flames licked hungrily at the paper as he held it.

As they crept closer to his fingers, he realized what he had just done. Now he had no way of putting it out, he had emptied his pitcher that morning. One of the flames touched his thumb, sending a jolt of pain and panic along his nerves. Without thinking, he dropped the paper into his wastebasket. The flames started to catch on the wooden container. His heart raced with fright. His hands fumbled on his desk for something heavy enough to smother the flames. He found a thick pile of blank paper he had intended to use for drawing. He pushed the whole thing down into his wastebasket, heaving a deep sigh of relief as the smoke billowed up, and the flames were quenched.

His thumb throbbed, and he felt heartily foolish at the moment. Remembering the other people in the house, he pressed his thumb against his mouth as he carefully put the globe back on the lamp and pulled the few salvageable pieces of paper out and put them back on his desk. He was in the act of straightening the small pile when Marie ran into the room, followed closely by Hoss.

"What is all the smoke? I smelled it and thought the house must be on fire!"

Adam felt another flash of panic, and quickly stepped in front of the still smoldering wastebasket, "Umm, I lit the lamp, and it smokes something awful sometimes. I think the wick isn’t right for the lamp or something. It started smoking really bad, then quit. I’m sorry it scared you." The words came in a rush, and he unconsciously cradled his hurt thumb in his left hand as he waited for her response.

"Did you burn yourself?" she asked concernedly.

"Not too bad, just a little when I bur...lit the lamp." he recovered.

Hoss, meanwhile, stepped inside the room and wrinkled his face up, "It smells, Ma!"

Marie turned and smiled at the boy, "Yes, Hoss, it does, but we’ll open a window and pretty soon the bad smell will be all gone!"

She returned her attention to Adam’s thumb, where an angry, red blister was forming. But his face arrested her attention, "What’s wrong, Adam, am I hurting you?"

"No, ma’am," Adam replied automatically, "How..how long has he called you ‘Ma’?"

Marie’s face softened in understanding, "For about a week. Adam..."

Adam cut her off, "I think I’d better see Hop Sing about some salve for this burn."

Marie followed him into the kitchen, with Hoss trotting along behind. In the end, it was Marie who applied the salve and gently wrapped the thumb. Adam was still stunned into silence. Had he really avoided his family to the point he didn’t even realize his little brother now considered Marie his mother? In all fairness, he admitted, it was good for Hoss to have a mother figure in his life, especially at his age. But... it hurt to think that his brother was forgetting the gentle woman who had given birth to him and given Adam a second chance at having a mother. Now, he didn’t need another mother, couldn’t risk another mother. If he started to love her, she’d probably desert him, just like everyone else he’d come to love.

Marie watched the struggle in the dark hazel eyes, and wished she knew the boy well enough to read the thoughts swirling there. She knew from just observing that Adam felt threatened by her presence, and judging from Ben’s preoccupation lately, she couldn’t blame the boy. But he remained an enigma, she’d never seen a boy so young who could control his expressions so well. She sighed as they sat down at the table for supper. She had a feeling that it was going to be a long night and day before Ben came home.

Without Ben there, it seemed pointless to try and celebrate about the spelling bee, particularly with Adam not so much as raising his head unless she asked him to pass something. She sighed, this was going to have to stop.

"Adam?"

"Yes, ma’am?" Adam didn’t move his eyes from the flames in the fireplace.

Marie hesitated, then attempted, "What sort of books to you like to read? Ben’s told me so many times what a bookworm you are!"

"Oh, I read just about anything." Adam was unwillingly warming to his favorite subject, "I have a few of Dickens’ books, and a couple of poetry..."

"You read poetry?" Marie saw by the way his face closed over that the exclamation had been a mistake, "I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, Adam, I just thought it a..a wonderfully unique idea."

"You mean it’s silly for a ten_year_old boy to like poetry," Adam said flatly, finally taking his gaze from the fireplace, "Don’t worry, I hear it all the time at school."

"That’s not what I meant, Adam..."

"May I be excused, ma’am? I’d like to go work on my homework." Adam didn’t want to hear her explanations.

Marie sighed, "Yes, you may."

Adam turned and controlled the urge to stomp up the stairs. It was one thing to simply have a defensive dislike of his father’s new wife, now he felt justified in that dislike. He’d gotten over the schoolboys teasing him about the inevitable slim book of poetry he carried with him to read during recess, but the one thing that always stung was when an adult made fun of him.

His room still smelled of smoke, and he had very little homework to do. He stretched it out, checking each math problem twice, and forcing himself to read the history lesson very slowly. When he finally admitted to himself that there simply wasn’t anything else he could do, he arranged the books neatly on his desk, and, out of force of habit, turned to his bookshelf. But every time he reached for a book, a frown would crease his forehead, and he’d draw his hand away. Finally he set his jaw and forced himself to reach for his poetry book.

He had long since learned that forcing himself to immediately overcome his emotional reaction to a comment such as Marie had made was the only way he’d ever overcome it. So, despite the fact he really wasn’t in the mood for Milton, he laid on his bed and opened the book.

Finally, a glance at the clock told him he could get ready for bed. He had just pulled the covers up when a knock came at his door.

"Adam?" it was Marie’s penitent voice, "May I come in for a moment, please?"

Adam cast about for an excuse, he didn’t want to talk to her, "Umm, no, I’m_I’m getting ready for bed."

Even through the door, he could hear her sigh, "Very well, I’m sorry about what happened, Adam. Can we talk in the morning?"

"Yes, ma’am, good_night." Adam replied, already trying to figure out how he could avoid her all day on a Saturday.

Sleep was long in coming to the boy that night. As usual, when the light went out, his thoughts began to go back over the day and pinpoint problems. This was beginning to be a bit repetitious, it seemed lately, there was always a problem with Marie by the end of the day.

He didn't like the fact that he had lied to her, several times. The guilt settled in a burning lump in the stomach. No matter how he tried to justify it, he knew he had done wrong by his father's wife.

Logic and emotion warred within the boy. Logic insisted that, no matter how much he disliked and avoided her, Marie was part of the family, so he ought to quit giving himself so much trouble and simply accept her. And he had to admit, deep down, that he knew Marie hadn’t meant her comment as a cut down, merely as a perfectly understandable exclamation of surprise. But emotion argued back that it had hurt, and that it was much easier to simply dislike her than to try and open his heart to another mother.

He hadn’t resolved the debate within him when a sound caught his attention. Always attuned to any noise that might come from Hoss’s room just across the wall, he got up quickly.

"Hoss?" he whispered as he crept into the room.

A sobbing breath told him he had been right, "What’s wrong, Lil’ Brother?" he asked, feeling for the edge of the bed, and sitting down next to the child.

"A b_bad dream." Hoss shuddered out, burrowing into Adam’s embrace, " I want Pa!"

"Do you want to tell me about it? That sometimes makes bad dreams go away." Adam suggested gently.

The head against his ribs shook vigorously.

Adam smiled into the darkness, "Would you like to sleep with me in my bed for the rest of the night?"

"Mm_hmm." Hoss nodded, a quaver even in that syllable.

"C’mon then, you need to get back to sleep." Adam shifted his arms so he could lift the four_year_old, grunting a little. His little brother was about the size of an average six year_old.

It didn’t take long for Hoss to go back to sleep, snuggled securely next to Adam. Sleep was not so easily achieved for Adam. On the one hand, it helped to know that Hoss hadn’t asked for Marie, that he still trusted Adam after nightmares...that maybe Marie wasn’t such an important part of his life after all. But on the other, he knew that Hoss needed a mother figure, just as Adam had needed Inger. In the end, it was only pressing fatigue that shut the boy’s eyes that night.

*************************

Ben rode into town with a smile. The crisis with the lumber contract had been dealt with swiftly, and everything looked like smooth sailing for a while. He nodded to Ms. Larsen, the pulled up as she motioned to him.

"Good morning Ms. Larsen!" he said cheerily, tipping his hat.

"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright, how are you?"

"Just fine, ma’am, in fact, this morning I feel wonderful!" Ben smiled, anticipating his homecoming with Marie and the boys.

"That’s good, I just wondered why I never heard from you about the note I sent home with Adam a few weeks ago." Ms. Jansen asked, looking at Ben quizzically.

"Note?" Ben repeated in bewilderment.

"Yes, the note about moving Adam up a grade before Promotion Day, he’s really a bright boy, and needs more of a challenge." Ms. Jansen replied.

"Oh, well, ma’am I never received the note, but you know how boys are, he probably dropped it, or else Hop Sing found it in the washing!" Ben chuckled to cover his confusion, he knew Adam wouldn’t do that with a note from his teacher, "Well, it’s perfectly fine with me if you think he can handle the harder work."

"I’m sure he can, thank you Mr. Cartwright! Good day!"

"Good day, Ms. Jansen!" Ben touched his hat again and headed his horse toward the Ponderosa.

*************************

Adam stepped doggedly back into the stall. He detested mucking out stalls, and ordinarily it wasn’t his responsibility. But it was the one job that he knew Marie would not want to follow him and discuss what had happened. So far he had managed to avoid her three times, and he had a feeling his luck was running out.

The sound of a horse coming in caught his attention, and he looked up to see Pa leading his horse into the barn.

"‘Morning, Pa!" he attempted a cheerful, natural tone.

Ben looked at him, or through him, it seemed, "‘Morning!" he let the silence linger for a moment, "I saw Ms. Jansen in town on my way home. She told me you had a note you were supposed to give me?"

Adam felt his heart sink, "Oh? I must have left that note in my pants pocket, I remember her giving it to me, but I don’t think I took it out."

Ben raised his eyebrows, "Oh really? That’s odd, you’ve brought me home notes from your teacher when you got in trouble, I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t give me this one, when it’s all about how well you’re doing."

Adam bit his lip, then blurted, "Because you wouldn’t care!"

Ben stared at him, and Adam seized the moment to keep talking, "You’ve been so preoccupied with Marie ever since she’s been here, the only time you notice me is if I do something wrong. You’ve hardly spoken to me since she came!" a rebellious tear chased it’s way down his cheek, he brushed it aside impatiently.

"And last night, Hoss had a nightmare, and he wanted you, and you weren’t there, Pa! You haven’t been there for us ever since Marie came into your life!"

The silence was broken only by a muffled sniffle as Adam attempted to control his too_long suppressed emotions.

"He’s right, Ben." the accented voice broke the heavy silence, "You haven’t spent nearly enough time with the boys since you brought me home."

Ben turned to Marie, "Now, darling, don’t blame yourself, Adam’s a little overwrought..."

Adam broke in, disbelieving, "I am not!" the squeak on the end of his exclamation did little to help his case, but he persevered, "You just can’t see it because you’re so taken up with her!"

"He’s right, Ben!" Marie repeated, smiling into her husband’s disbelieving face, "I would even go so far as to say that you didn’t know that your son is the top speller in his school!"

Ben opened his mouth and closed it twice before admitting, "No, I didn’t. I didn’t realize that I was neglecting the boys..."

He got down and looked Adam square in the eye, "I’m sorry, will you forgive me?"

Adam smiled, it felt wonderful to be able to say, "Yes, I forgive you!"

Marie came over, "And I’m sorry, Adam, about what happened last night..."

He cut her off, so relieved that he finally had his father again that suddenly it didn’t seem important, "Never mind, I was too sensitive."

"And to make it up to you, I want you to have this!" Marie pulled a small book from behind her back.

Adam took it curiously, "Shakespeare’s sonnets!" he exclaimed.

"It’s a little hard for you to read, I think, but I’m sure, with your intelligence, we can work through them in no time!" she said.

"We?" Adam asked, looking up at her.

"Why of course," she placed her hand on his shoulder as she leaned over to get close, "I still have trouble with them too!"

The three of them laughed. Adam knew he'd have a lot of explaining to do, particularly about the ashes and burned paper in his waste basket, but for the moment he just wanted to enjoy this feeling. He thought for a moment, trying to identify the sensation. He smiled as it came to him. Family.