Vignettes, Part II

Page Two

Two Months Later 

      Meg carefully brushed out her hair.  She was so glad Adam hadn’t let them cut it.  She knew he loved her long curls, and although they could be a bother at times, she hoped that tonight they’d serve a purpose.  They had in the past.  She was fully recovered from both the gunshot wound and the infection that had accompanied it.  Life had returned to normal.  The older children were in school, she had regained control of her domestic duties from Rebecca and Carrie, and Adam was back to working full time.

     Perhaps he was working too hard, she thought.  That might explain it.  She quickly dismissed that thought.  He had always worked hard and that had never interfered with his desire for her.  Her husband was still a very virile man.  Hadn’t he tricked her into a romantic tryst in the hayloft the very morning she had been shot?  She was at a loss to explain his behavior.  Oh, she could understand that he might not want to approach her while she was still weak, but she had stated on more than one occasion recently that she felt as strong and healthy as she ever had.  Still, each night he gave her a sweet, if rather perfunctory kiss, rolled over, and went to sleep.  Maybe she needed to use a less subtle form of communication.  She was hoping he’d be a little more receptive than he had been last night.

     It was November and the nights were very chilly.  In hopes of starting something, she wiggled back into him as she often did when she was cold.  It amazed her how much heat his body gave off.  He would usually throw his arm around her waist and pull her back closer so they were positioned together like two spoons in a cutlery drawer.  Sometimes they’d just fall asleep that way.    But sometimes he’d begin to nuzzle her neck or her shoulder.  His hand, resting on her stomach might begin to wander.  And those nights usually ended very pleasantly for them both.

     But last night as soon as their bodies made contact he had bolted out of bed.

     “Are you cold?  I’ll get another quilt,” he'd offered, and fumbled around in the chest at the foot of the bed.  He'd carefully laid the blanket over her, but when he'd gotten back into bed he'd turned his back to her.  

     She was puzzled and a little hurt, but when she thought back on it, she decided she hadn’t made her wishes clear enough.  There could be no mistake tonight.  Often when Adam wanted to make love, he’d ask her to leave her hair loose. It was something that had begun on their wedding night and had become a private signal they had used frequently throughout their marriage.  

     As she was getting rid of the last few tangles, he walked into the bedroom.  He was already in his nightshirt, a triangle of chest hair showing at the opening.  She smiled to herself.  He was so handsome.

     “Are the kids alright?’ she asked.

     “Mmm hmm.  They’re all asleep.  Jesse sure is a restless sleeper,” he remarked, kicking off his slippers and climbing into bed.  “He pulled all the covers off and poor Adam was lying there shivering.  Maybe it’s time they had their own beds.”

     “I don’t know,” she answered as she placed her brush on the dressing table and lowered the lamp.  “They’re still little and it’s warmer in the winter if they sleep together.” 

     “I doubt Adam would agree with you.  Anyway, I put a separate blanket over him so he won’t be cold,” he said, watching her as she approached the bed.  She didn’t get under the covers.  Instead she climbed up and knelt facing him.  He leaned forward, gave her a kiss, said goodnight, and began to lie down.

     “Adam!”

     He turned to face her. “What?”

     She lowered her voice, tilted her head, and smiled her prettiest smile. “I left my hair loose tonight.”  She twirled a long curl around her index finger.

     He didn’t answer her immediately.  He sat up in bed slowly and on his face she caught a brief glimpse of some expression that she couldn’t identify.  For the first time that she could remember he spoke to her without meeting her eyes. 

     He coughed. “I’ve…uh…been meaning to speak to you about that,” he said quietly.

     “About what?”

     “About your hair.  You don’t have to leave it loose anymore.  While you were sick I realized what a nuisance it must be to comb it out and untangle it in the morning.  So you can braid it up.”

     “I don’t mind,” she answered, unsure of what was going on.  Adam’s sexual appetite was such that she had only infrequently initiated lovemaking.   No matter what tactic she used, he always caught on immediately and had never refused her.  In fact he seemed delighted on those occasions when she was more assertive.  She knew her approach tonight was anything but subtle.  What did she have to do?  Issue him a written invitation?  What was the matter?

     He looked as if he was going to lie down again.  This was ridiculous!  Two short months ago he would have had her nightgown off already and she would have been pinned beneath him while he kissed her breathless.      

     She bit her lower lip and sat back on her heels. “What’s the matter, Adam?”

     He looked in her direction without really looking at her. “Nothing’s the matter, sweetheart.  Let’s get some sleep.”

     “No!”  The anger and petulance in her voice got his attention.  This time he really did look at her. “You know I don’t want to go to sleep now.  You’ve known for a few days exactly what I do want.  Something’s wrong.  What is it?”

     “Nothing’s wrong.”

     She pushed his shoulder as hard as she could. “Something most certainly is wrong.  You used to like making love to me.  Even though I’ve told you over and over that I’m fine you seem to be trying to avoid me.” 

      He watched in dismay as her eyes grew sad.

      Her voice trembled a little. “This is so difficult for me, Adam. You know I’ve mostly depended on you to take the lead in this part of our lives.  I’m not very good at…”  Her voice trailed off.  She sighed, swallowed, and then continued.  “Have I done something that’s made you angry?  Have I…”  Her hand came up and covered her mouth as a thought occurred to her…a terrifying thought. “Is it my scar?  Am I unattractive to you because of my scar?”  She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.

     He looked startled.  He couldn’t let her think that!  He shook his head. “No…no, Meg, it’s not that.  It’s nothing like that at all.  How could you think I’d find you less attractive?  With or without that scar you’re still the most beautiful woman I know.”

     “Then what is it?” she demanded.  “It’s so humiliating to have to ask you like this.”  She hung her head.  “Before…well it was different.  You know what I mean.”  She looked up at him again.  “Don’t you want me anymore?  You don’t even hold me in bed.  I miss that.  I miss the closeness.  If you don’t want to…well, at least will you hold me?” she asked miserably.

     “Of course I will.  It’s torture sleeping next to you and not touching you.”

     “Then why…?”

     He didn’t answer her immediately.  It would be difficult trying to explain it to her. 

     She waited patiently.

     “I feel like I don’t deserve any part of you.  Look what happened because of me.  You were shot and came this close to dying.”  He held his thumb and forefinger a hair’s width apart.  “I had a lot of time to think while you were so sick and then during your recovery.  I’ve treated you pretty shabbily.  I’ve taken you for granted.  I’m pretty clever at getting my own way when we disagree.  You’ve had to put up with an awful lot and I rarely show you any real gratitude.”  He stopped as if searching for some more effective words with which to berate himself, but she cut him off.

     “Oh, I see,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.  “I’m too good for you is that it?  That’s why you won’t come near me?” 

      He didn’t answer.  He wanted to try and explain how he felt but for once his educated tongue deserted him. 

      She hopped off the bed and began to pace.  She turned suddenly, and pointed her finger at him like a prosecutor in a trial confronting the accused. “Adam, do you feel responsible because I got shot?” she demanded.

     “I don’t feel responsible, Meg.  I am responsible,” he answered simply.

     "That’s…that’s…” she looked around the room as if the words she was searching for would magically appear on her dressing table, or the bureau, or the nightstand.  She pulled herself up to her full five feet four inches and turned to face him, hands on hips.  She was as angry as he’s ever seen her.  “Adam, that’s rubbish…and …and…stupid!  It’s totally illogical.  I mean, it would make sense if I was the one who didn’t want…”

     She sighed, let her hands drop to her sides and walked over to his side of the bed, the expression on her face softening, her tone of voice quieter. “I guess it would be natural for you to feel responsible for what happened that day,” she began, wrapping her arm around the tall bedpost and leaning against it.  “It’s utterly ridiculous, but natural.  Tom Morrison was to blame, not you.  You did everything you could to prevent it.  And I know how frightened you must have been when I was sick.  I keep thinking about how I would have felt if he had shot you.”  She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him.

     “You have to let this go, Adam.  It was a terrible thing, but we’re all fine and it’s over.”  She reached out and took one of his hands in her own. “And as for that other nonsense.  My goodness, I always thought you were so smart.  How could you possibly think that you’ve treated me shabbily or that I don’t realize that you’re grateful for the things that I do?  You treat me like a princess!  You buy me every modern convenience that comes along, you keep insisting that I get more help around the house when I’m not busy enough to warrant it, and you’ve always tried to protect me from anything ugly or unpleasant that goes on in town.   We have four beautiful, healthy children.  I live surrounded by friends and family.”  She reached out and touched his cheek.

     “When everything is going well we tend to take each other for granted.  I’m guilty of that too.  I think everyone is to some extent.  Then when someone dies, we always think, ‘Oh, I should have done this or I should have said that.’  So when you thought I might die, you began to think about those things too.   But you’re wrong, Adam.  I’m very happy.”   She smiled ruefully.  “Maybe I’m the one who should feel ashamed for not letting you know that more often.  You’re being too hard on yourself.”  Her hand dropped down and she waited for him to speak.

     “Maybe you’re right.”

     “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.  I am right,” she said with assurance.  Then she added with a grin, “You know how outspoken I am.  If I was unhappy I’d let you know it!”

     He looked at her, sitting there in a pretty nightgown, smelling sweetly of her favorite floral cologne, her hair cascading around her shoulders and down her back.  For days he had wanted her so badly he ached.  But guilt and his belief that he had been a less than appreciative husband had prevented him from acting on his desires.  He recognized the truth in much of what she said.  Perhaps he'd just needed to hear her say it.                   

     “Well, you are outspoken,” he agreed, reaching out to place his arm around her waist and draw her closer.  She smiled in relief and delight as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.  “You sure you’re feeling well enough to…?” he whispered in her ear.

     “Yes!  I’m fine.”  She pulled back and placed a hand on either side of his face.  “Truly.  I’m all better.  And I’ve missed you so much.”  She leaned forward and kissed him sweetly.  It was the only encouragement he needed.  He tilted his head and deepened the kiss.  She pressed closer to him and he very carefully turned her over him so she was lying down.

     “I’ve missed you too, Precious.”

     “How much?” she murmured, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

     “There aren’t enough words.”

     “Then show me.”   

     Their union had been sweet, tender, and extended.  They lay in bed, twisted together comfortably, as only people married for several years can be.  They were sated, relaxed, and incredibly happy. 

     “You all right?” Adam asked quietly.

     Meg lifted herself onto her elbow, her head resting on her palm. “Yes, I’m alright.  I told you I’m just fine.  And next time you don’t have to be so…careful.  I’m not going to break or fall apart!”

     He untangled their legs and assumed a similar position facing her.  He grinned the devilish grin that she always found so devastating.

     “I see.  So next time you want me to be a caveman and grab you by your hair and drag you off to bed, is that it?” 

     She laughed, delighted that he was teasing her again. “Well…maybe you needn’t behave exactly like that, but you know what I mean.”

     He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know what you mean,” he agreed, laying down and pulling her back into his arms.              

     She remained there quietly for a few seconds. “Adam?”

     “Hmm?”  He rubbed his chin on the top of her head.

     “I want to tell you something…something that happened while I was sick.  And I want you to promise to believe me.”

     He began to stroke her hair. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

     “Well, because it’s going to sound strange.  But it really did happen.  I’ve thought a lot about it and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to tell you, but now I do.” 

     He kissed the top of her head. “Tell me.”

     She took a deep breath, then began. “I don’t remember an awful lot about those few days.  I know I had a high fever.  Sometimes I knew what was going on and sometimes I didn’t.  And I had strange dreams.  I dreamed about my Aunt Beatrice and about my mother.  I can’t remember exactly what those dreams were about but I have a vague recollection of them.  They were…disturbing…and scary, I think.”

     Adam hugged her. “I’m sorry sweetheart.  High fevers can do that.  I remember one time Joe…”

     “But that’s not really what I wanted to tell you about,” she said cutting him off in mid-sentence.

     “Then what is it?”

     “I was having those dreams when, very suddenly, everything became peaceful.  I felt completely calm.  And it seemed that I was in a beautiful place.  And this place, Adam…well, it was full of light.  Very, very bright light, but not a hot light like the sun.  It was the brightest light I’ve ever seen.  And even though there was so much light I didn’t have to squint or anything.  And the light was all around me and I felt wonderful.  I felt peaceful and wonderful.  I can’t describe it properly, but it was a glorious feeling.”

     She had been combing her fingers through his chest hair as she spoke, but she stopped and flattened her hand out over his heart as she continued.  Her voice lowered slightly. “And then I saw them, Adam.  I saw them plainly…not like imaging someone you know in a dream.  This was real!”

     “Who did you see, sweetheart?”

     “My father and my brother Jesse.  I know you probably find that hard to believe, but I did see them.  And they let me know that they were fine.  And they looked fine and happy and peaceful, just like I felt.  And then they were gone.  But I didn’t feel badly because I knew that they were all right and in this beautiful place.  And then I saw someone else.”

     “And who was that, Meg?”

     She didn’t answer right away.  She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him. “I saw your mother, Adam.  I saw Elizabeth Cartwright.”

     He said nothing.

     “I did see her Adam.  I did.”

     “That’s impossible.”

     She shoved herself away from him. “I knew I should have followed my first instinct and not told you.  I know it sounds fantastic, but it’s true.  It did happen.” 

      He sensed her tension and he heard the agitation in her voice.  The night had been special…beautiful…and he didn’t want to spoil it with an argument. “I believe that you thought you saw my mother.  I can tell from your voice that you…,” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.

     “You don’t have to humor me,” she said, sitting up.  “I don’t think I saw your mother.  I did see your mother.  She was no farther away from me than from here to the end of the bed.  I understand that it’s hard for you to understand.  It’s hard for me too. What happened was so special and …and fantastic that I wasn’t going to share it with anybody.  But it was your mother and I love you and I wanted you to know.” 

     “Okay…okay,” he said soothingly.  “Why don’t you tell me the rest.  Help me to understand what happened.”

     In the dim light she could see that he was serious.  She relaxed somewhat and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Well, suddenly she was just there.  And I knew right away that it was her.”

     “How?  Did she introduce herself?” he asked, stacking his hands together under his head.

     She shot him a look, but he wasn’t being sarcastic. “No.  I can’t explain it.  I just knew.  And she’s much prettier than that picture you have of her, Adam.  Her eyes are full of merriment and fun, her face so animated.  The picture doesn’t capture that.  And she seemed quite young…younger than I am, but for some reason that didn’t seem strange at all.  I liked her.” She stopped to gauge his reaction, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue. “Anyway, just like my father and brother, I knew she was happy in that beautiful place.  And somehow I also knew that she knew all about us and was happy for us…like she had been watching you all these years.”  She paused again, wondering what he would say to that, but her husband remained silent. “Well, that place was so lovely and I felt so wonderful there that I wanted to stay.  But she wouldn’t let me.”

     “What do you mean, she wouldn’t let you?” he asked.

     “Just what I said…she wouldn’t let me.  She said, ‘I left him.  You mustn’t.  You must go back.’  It wasn’t really speaking.  But somehow she communicated those thoughts to me.  And I remember thinking that I really wanted to stay, but if she told me to go back, then that’s what I had to do.  So I said, ‘Yes’.  And right after that she began to fade away.  I put my hand out to touch her, but she was fading so quickly.  The last thing I remember her saying was, ‘angel kiss’.  I didn’t understand that, but she said it.  It was the last thing I heard before she disappeared.   And then I was waking up and you were there.” She turned and looked over her shoulder at him. 

      He held his hand out to her. “Come lay down,” he said. “I have to tell you something.”

     She returned to the haven of his arms.

     “During the very end of your fever you were restless and agitated.  I heard you call out for your aunt and you called to your father and brother.  And then, at the very end, maybe when the fever was breaking, you became still.  You said ‘yes’ very clearly, and you raised your hand up off the bed as though you were reaching for something.”

     “You see!” she said excitedly.  “It happened!  It happened just like I said.”

     “Maybe.”

     “You don’t believe me?”

     “I didn’t say that.  What I’m sure about is that you had some incredibly vivid dreams.  But you seem to think something else happened.  I’m not saying it didn’t.  I’m just saying that it’s hard for me to comprehend.”  He hugged her closer.  “I’m not humoring you, Meg.  Logically, I could explain away what you saw.  But you’re not a stupid person.  I’m sure you’ve thought about all of this.  And in spite of everything, you’ve drawn your own conclusions as to what happened.  I respect that, even though I may not have come to the same conclusions.  I hope you can accept that.”

     She turned her head, resting her chin on his chest. “I guess I can.  I know how it must sound…like some sort of fantasy.  I’ve thought about it a lot since it happened.  You don’t have to believe me.  But I’ve never doubted for one second what happened.”  She yawned and snuggled closer to him.  “I just wish I knew what angel kiss meant.  Do you know?”      

     He pulled the covers up over them. “I have no idea.  But I’m tired.  You’ve worn me out Mrs. Cartwright.  We can talk about it some other time.  Let’s get some sleep.”

     One week later Ben and his sons were completing the last of the hay baling.  Young Adam, the twins, and even young Joe had been pressed into service.  None of them objected too loudly to the week of school they had to miss to help out.  They were currently at the eldest Cartwright’s, hauling the heavy bales into the hayloft.

     “Now you boys be careful up there!” Ben shouted, watching as the youngsters pulled the hay into the storage space above the barn.

     “We will be Grandpa,” young Joe yelled back.  He then proceeded to come perilously close to falling out of the hayloft as he reached for the next bale.  His cousin Peter saved him by grabbing him by the suspenders before he could tumble to the ground. 

     Ben shook his head, turned toward the house, and muttered, “Someone’s gonna end up breaking his neck before we’re done.”

     “What was that, Pa?” Adam asked, falling in step with his father.

     “Nothing.  I’m just glad we’re almost finished with this,” Ben said.   He stopped short and faced his son. “Adam, remember last night when you asked me if the words ‘angel kiss’ meant anything to me?” 

     “What about it?  You said they didn’t.”

     “They didn’t then.  But I remembered something.”  He chuckled.  “I hadn’t thought about it in years.”

     “What is it?”

     “Well, your mother had a birthmark on her shoulder, right about here,” he pointed to a spot on his own shoulder.  “And she told me her father had said that she was such a beautiful baby, that after the good Lord created her an angel kissed her there and left that mark.  She called it her angel kiss.”  He laughed again.  “Sounds like something that old rascal would have told her.”

     Adam was certain he had never heard that story before.  He knew so little about his mother that he catalogued and treasured each little piece of information about her that he had.  He was sure that if his father or grandfather had ever told him that little tale, he would have remembered it.

     “Did you ever mention that to Meg?”

     Ben shook his head. “I’m sure I never did.  As I said, I just recalled it after all these years.  Why?  Is it important?”  Ben looked at Adam with concern.

    A shiver ran up Adam’s spine.  It was ridiculous, of course.  There was some logical explanation for this.  His father had probably forgotten that he told Meg.  That must be it.

     “Don’t worry about it, Pa.  It’s nothing,” Adam said, slapping his father on the back.  “Let’s go see what Hop Sing has for lunch.  I’m hungry.”

     As his father entered the house, Adam remained behind for a moment.  Then, for reasons that were never entirely clear to him, and going against every ounce of logic and rational thought he possessed, he raised his eyes heavenward and said, very softly, “Thank you.”      

                                                     A PROBLEM—A SOLUTION    

     Adam was getting ready to mount up and ride to his father’s when he spotted Beth in the yard.  She was laying face down across the hammock that hung from two large trees.  She had a stick in her hand and was making little pictures in the dirt.  She gave an occasional desultory kick with her foot, which caused the hammock to swing gently.  Adam walked over to her, leading Sport.

     “Hi there, Sunshine.  I’m going to Grandpa’s.  I can take you with me and drop you off at Uncle Hoss’s if you want.”

     Normally the twin treats of riding on Sport and playing with her cousin Bitsie would have had the child jumping up and down excitedly.  But she didn’t even look up as she answered, “No thank you, Pa.”

     Adam squatted down to be at eye level with her.  He placed his hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could see her eyes. “What’s the matter?  You have a fight with Bitsie?”

     She looked genuinely surprised. “No, we didn’t have a fight.  I just wanna stay home.”

     He reached over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “All right.  Whatever you want.  See you later.”

     As he rode to his father’s, he considered the cause of Beth’s dejected mood. 

     Adam was always the first up in the mornings.  Three days ago he had come down to the kitchen as usual and whistled for the dog, to let him out.  When Nugget didn’t respond, Adam attributed it to the fact that the old dog was becoming increasingly deaf. He whistled again and called his name.  Nugget still didn’t move, and when Adam walked over to the dog’s bed by the stove, he realized what had happened.  He knelt down and placed a gentle hand on the dog’s still head.  He was curled up, eyes closed, and looked like he was sleeping.  Adam swallowed as tears stung his eyes. 

     Nugget had been almost as much a family member as the children.  He had been Adam’s first Christmas gift to Meg.  He'd displayed no signs of jealousy as the children came along.  He was protective of them, but also a wonderful playmate.  He related to each person in the family differently.  For Adam, Nugget was good hunting companion, and he always felt better about leaving Meg alone because the dog was there.  For Meg, Nugget was company during the day while her husband was working.  And he joined in the fun with the children as if he was one himself. How many sticks had he retrieved over the years? 

     He bounded along happily with young Adam when he went fishing with his cousins.  When Jesse had been punished or was in a bad mood, Nugget was always there to listen and commiserate.  But Beth had a special relationship with him.  Her brothers could play together and entertain each other, but frequently she was on her own.  Nugget became her special friend.  The boys would have nothing to do with tea parties and Meg was busy with household chores. So Beth would dress him up and seat him on the opposite side of an old bench that she used as a tea table.  Adam had come home many times and watched as the dog, resplendent in a bonnet and shawl, waited patiently for the cookies he knew were forthcoming.  These treats apparently compensated him for the indignity of wearing ruffles and lace and of being addressed as ‘Mrs. Snodgrass’.

     Though they couldn’t be sure of his age, Adam estimated Nugget was about thirteen years old.  Over the years his muzzle had turned white and an opaque film covered his eyes.  He moved more slowly as rheumatism settled into his bones, but he still had occasional bouts of puppy-like playfulness.  In the last few months he had spent more time snoring in front of the fire or curled up by the stove.  Still, he could always be counted on to rest his head on Adam’s knee in the evening for some pleasant scratching behind his ears.  Like every other beloved pet, he gave much and required little.

     As Adam picked him up and carried his body out to the barn, he felt an incredible sadness over this loss, but he was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that Nugget had had a long and happy life with his family.

     Back in the kitchen, he broke the bad news to Meg and held her as she wept.  She pulled herself together for the sake of the children, who would be down soon demanding their breakfasts.

     They were devastated.  Adam realized that his children had lived their short lives blessedly free from dealing with death.  In fact, all the little Cartwright cousins were fortunate in that respect.  A simple funeral was planned and Adam and the boys dug a grave under an old tree while Meg and Beth found some old cloth that could be used as a shroud.  Afterward, young Adam went quietly off on his own and Jesse went to share the tragic, yet somehow exciting and important, news with his cousin Ben.  Beth retired to the hammock, clutching her most beloved doll.  Meg had housework and Annie to attend to, but every so often she would think of the dog and her eyes would fill with tears again.

     Life goes on, Adam thought as he rode along, but he was somewhat concerned about Beth.  She remained listless.  Her appetite was failing.  Meg had gotten her to finish her dinner last night by threatening her with a dose of cod liver oil.  The only real emotion she had shown was to slap her brother Jesse when he had the temerity to ask if they could get another dog.  Adam normally would have spanked her for that because the children were expressly forbidden to hit each other.  But she burst into tears immediately after, and Meg went after her to comfort her and deal with things.  The situation only got worse.

     Around 2 a.m. Meg felt a little pressure on her arm, then a little shake.

     “Mama?  Can I sleep in here with you?  I had a bad dream.”

     She blinked a few times and then here eyes focused on Beth, standing beside the bed in her nightgown and nightcap.

     “You had a bad dream?” she mumbled back.

     The child nodded.

     Meg threw back the covers and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed.  She was eight months pregnant with their fifth child, and simple movements were becoming more difficult as her body grew.

     “What was it about?” she asked, yawning.

    “I don’t remember.  But it was scary.  Can I sleep here?”

     “Okay.  Climb up.”

     Beth scrambled into the bed between her parents and Meg lay down on her side.  She’d have to get to the bottom of this tomorrow, she thought, but right now she just wanted to get some sleep.

     This same scene was repeated for the next two nights.

     “What’s the matter with her?” Adam asked his wife as they sipped coffee early one morning before their brood awoke.

     “I don’t know.”

     “Did you ask her?”

     “Of course I’ve asked her…more than once.  I think it has something to do with the dog, but then maybe it’s more than that.  She’s worried about something.  And I haven’t been able to get her to tell me.”  She sighed deeply.  “But maybe I’ve haven’t tried hard enough.  I feel so drained in this heat.” 

     Adam nodded in understanding.  It was mid July, and they had suffered through a sizzling heat wave for the past week.

     There was very little that could ruffle Meg’s temper. She mediated the frequent squabbles among their children with a wisdom Solomon would have envied.  When the family suffered through the traditional scourges of measles, chicken pox, and mumps, she seemed to go for days without a decent night’s sleep as she nursed each child through the illness.  Still she maintained a sense of humor and a reasonably cheerful attitude.  She waited patiently for weeks on end for items that she had ordered from the east…items that she could have purchased the same day back in Boston.  And, Adam thought ruefully to himself, she puts up with me!

     Oh, she had her moments. When something angered her, she could be a veritable tigress.  If something offended one of her core beliefs, she would react swiftly and emotionally.  She could be bitingly sarcastic.  Her intelligence made her a worthy sparring partner in a verbal confrontation.  But for the most part, she handled the day to day problems of a large family with equanimity.

     There was one thing that his wife found difficult to handle with grace and that was extreme heat.  Perhaps she wasn’t used to it because there was always a sea breeze at her home back in Boston, or perhaps it was just something in her own peculiar physical makeup.  Adam wasn’t sure.  But she definitely suffered in the warm summer months.  She became less animated as the heat increased.  She seemed to wilt a little bit with each rise of the mercury.  Add to that the discomforts of the last months of pregnancy and Adam sometimes had a pretty unhappy wife at his side. 

     Tempting Meg with promises of cool breezes, he had taken the family down to the lake on the weekend.  As the children scrambled out of the buckboard, Adam went round to help his wife down.

     “I’d put my hands around your waist, but I can’t seem to find it.”

     “Oh that’s hysterical, Adam.  I don’t want you to even touch me.  I’m hot.”  This last short sentence had been her mantra on the whole trip to their picnic area.

     “My, we’re a little testy today, aren’t we?” he responded, carefully assisting her to the ground.

     She gave him a look that could curdle milk. “I don’t know about we, but I’m not in the best of moods because of all this heat.  You know how I hate it,” she replied grouchily.

     “What can I do to make you happier?”

     “Can you make the temperature drop twenty degrees?”

     “No.”

     “Can you make my ankles suddenly stop resembling piano legs?”

     He shook his head.

     “Well, can you magically cause me to drop this extra thirty pounds that I’m carrying around?”

     “Nope.”

     “Then you’re useless.”

     He pulled off his hat and scratched his head.

     “Look, maybe you should take off your shoes and stockings and go wading.  I’m sure that would make you feel better,” he tried. 

     She wasn’t open to suggestions. “Oh sure!  I go wading, fall in the lake, and begin to float.  Suddenly a whaleboat appears and someone shouts, ‘Thar she blows!’  They pull out their harpoons and before you know it I’m oil in somebody’s lamp!”

     He watched her straight-faced while she painted this absurd picture. “I don’t think whale oil lamps are much in use anymore,” was all he said.

     She stared at him for a moment.  Then she burst out laughing. “I’m sorry!  I know I’m being miserable.  It’s just that I’m…”

     “Hot,” he finished for her.  “I know you are, sweetie.  If I could make it cooler I would.”

     She leaned against him, resting her forehead on his chest. “I think it is a little cooler down here.  Thank you for bringing us.  Just help me sit down under those trees.”

     “Your wish is my command,” he replied, and led her to the place she had chosen.

      Adam wasn’t surprised when Meg admitted she might have done more to get to the root of Beth’s problem.

     “I’m busy today, but if I get home early I’ll try and have a talk with her,” he offered, strapping on his gun belt and reaching for his hat.

     As she had done almost every morning of their marriage, she walked him to the front door.

     “I know it’s hard, but try and stay cool,” he said, bending to kiss her upturned lips.

      “I’ll try,” she answered with a dramatic sigh that told him she didn’t believe such a feat was possible.  She watched him mount up and ride off and then went in to begin her domestic chores.

     There was no opportunity for Adam to speak to his daughter that evening.   He had forgotten about a school board meeting that he had to attend and when he arrived home she was already asleep.  A storm in the afternoon had cooled things off and even Meg was in bed, asleep, by the time he returned.  Around two a.m. the little specter again made her appearance.  Adam heard her and called her softly to his side of the bed.

     “What’s wrong, Beth?”

     “I had a bad dream, Pa.  Can I sleep in here with you?”

     He sighed.  Meg was sleeping soundly and peacefully for the first night in a while.  He got out of bed and took his daughter’s hand.

     “It’s cool tonight, isn’t it?” he asked her.

     She nodded.

     “I feel like having some hot chocolate.  What about you?”

     “Now, Pa?”

     “Mmm hmm.  Right now.  Why don’t you and I go down to the kitchen and make some.  Maybe it’ll help you feel sleepy.”

     The offer was too unusual and too good to resist.

     “Okay, Pa.”

     Down in the kitchen Adam lit lamps and poked at the banked fire.  He prepared the drink while Beth watched in wonder.

     “Do you like to cook, Pa?” she asked as he poured the hot, sweet liquid into two cups. 

     “Not really, sweetie.  But I know how.  I like to know I can take care of myself.”

     “You take care of us too,” she said, accepting the cup of hot chocolate.

     “Well, I try,” he answered, seating himself opposite her at the big kitchen table.

     She silently sipped her drink, her little face troubled.  It broke his heart to see the child he had nicknamed Sunshine so obviously upset.  They sat quietly for a minute.

     “Is it sweet enough?” he asked her.

     “It’s very good,” she complimented him.  Then she was silent again. 

      This would never do!  Adam was determined to see if he could unlock the secret of her unhappiness.  He began with the most obvious. “Beth, do you miss Nugget?”

     She nodded but didn’t look at him.

     “Is that why you’ve been so quiet and sad?  Is it because you miss him, sweetheart?”

     She stirred her drink with her spoon.  She nodded again.  And then she shook her head.  Finally she raised her eyes to her father’s.

     “I miss him, but…,” She didn’t finish her sentence. 

      So Meg was probably right, Adam thought.  There’s something else that’s on her mind.  But he knew to proceed slowly with her, the most sensitive of his children.

     “We all miss him Beth.  I guess we all wish he could have lived forever.  But he was an old dog.  He lived much longer than most dogs.  Probably one reason was because we all loved him so much and he knew that.  He was happy here, sweetie.  He had a good life.”

     She looked up again. “You really think that, Pa?  You think that he lived longer because we all loved him?”

     “I think that because we loved him we took good care of him and that helped him to live longer.”

     “Oh,” she sighed, apparently unhappy with his response.  They both sipped their drinks in silence. “I wish that loving someone could make them live forever, but it can’t, can it Pa?”

     “No, Beth.  No one…nothing lives forever.  Some things live longer than others.  Flowers die quickly, but there are some trees that live hundreds of years.  We have some of those right here on the ranch.  And some animals live only a short time and others live much longer.  But anything that’s alive eventually dies.”

     “People too, right, Pa?”  This was spoken so low that Adam barely heard it.

     “People too, Beth.”

     At this point she burst into tears.  He was with her in an instant, lifting her on his lap while she cried as if her heart would break. 

     “I’m scared, Pa,” she sobbed into his nightshirt.

     “Scared of what Beth?  Please tell me, sweetheart.  Maybe I can help.”

     “Nobody can help.  Nobody can help,” she wept despairingly.

     He hugged her and spoke soothingly, but Adam was frustrated.  He was fairly certain that his daughter’s fears had to do with death, but since she wasn’t more forthcoming he began to question her.

     “Beth, are you afraid of dying?” he asked softly.  “Is that what this is all about?”       

      She continued to cry, dampening the front of his nightshirt with her tears.  She had her arms around his middle in a death grip.  Finally she managed to choke out, “I’m not afraid of dying.”

     “Then what, baby?  What is it that you’re afraid of?”

     She sobbed a bit more quietly.  Then she pulled back and looked at him, her big eyes swimming in tears, her curly hair like a silky halo around her head.  When she spoke the words rushed out like the water from a burst dam.

     “I’m afraid of you dying, Pa.  I’m so scared of that.  If you died who would take care of us?  What if Mama and you died?  Mama almost died when that bad man shot her. What would happen to us?  Where would we go?  Sara Jane’s pa died and now they got to move back east because they got no money and her ma don’t want to, cause of her uncle, but they got to.  And what would happen to us?  When I think about it I get so scared.  And you can’t fix it Pa.  And even if I love you so much, I can’t fix it either.”  And she leaned against him again and wept.

     Adam said nothing.  He held Beth and stroked her back till she had cried herself out.  He grabbed a napkin from the table and sopped up her tears.

     “Well,” he said quietly, “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

     Up to this point, Beth had lived in a happy world where the changes that occurred were only pleasant in nature.  Life had a rhythm and routine that she found comforting.  Now she had learned first hand that death was a change that was not only unpleasant, but also permanent.  In her little world, Adam realized, her pa had thus far been able to do or fix anything.  Then she had come upon one thing he couldn’t fix…a very big thing. She had heard it from his own lips…everything that’s alive eventually dies.  And even her pa couldn’t change that.  Most terrifying of all was the realization that her parents would also someday die.  No wonder she wasn’t sleeping.   

     “Talking won’t help.  Nobody can do anything,” she sighed hopelessly.

     “Elizabeth Jane!  I’m surprised at you.  A Cartwright doesn’t give up that easily,” was his response.  He decided to appeal to her inordinate family pride.

     She looked up in surprise. “What do you mean, Pa?” she asked.  “Everything dies.  You said so.”

     “Yes, I did, but listen, sweetheart.  Everything dies in its time.  We wouldn’t expect a flower to live for years and years, but a tree can live a very long time.  I know that it scares you to think of something happening to your mother or me, but Mama and I try to be careful and take good care of ourselves so we can live with you a long time.  Sometimes accidents happen or people get sick, and that’s sad.  I’m not saying that something like that couldn’t happen.  But Mama and I try to make sure that nothing will prevent us from seeing all of you grow up. 

     And what if something did happen to one of us?  You said you’re scared about that, too.  Well, even if something did happen, one of us would be left to care for you.  And even if something happened to both of us, then you have uncles and aunts and Grandpa to take care of you.  You’d never have to leave here if you didn’t want to.  It just wouldn’t happen, Beth.”

     “Is that true?”

     “I always tell you the truth, sweetheart.  You know that.”

     He felt her tense little body relax a bit.

     “And if something happened to Uncle Joe and Aunt Carrie, then Mary, Joe, Ben and baby Daniel would come and live with us?”

     “Absolutely.  Cartwrights take care of each other.”

     She nodded as if she understood and leaned against his chest again.

     “Beth, who is Sara Jane?”

     “My friend from school.”

     “Sweetie, you don’t go to school yet.”

     “Yes, I do!” she replied indignantly.  “I go to Sunday school.”

     Adam smiled to himself. “Oh, of course.  I forgot.  Well, tell me about her.”

     She sighed deeply. “Well, a while ago at Sunday school she told me her Pa died and now they don’t have enough money to keep their ranch.  So her and her ma and her sister got to move back east and live with her uncle.  Her ma don’t like the uncle so much but they got to go.”

     “What’s Sara Jane’s last name?  Do you know?”

     “Course I know, Pa!  It’s Venable.  Sara Jane Venable.”

     Adam knew the name.  Lucas Venable had had a small ranch not far from the Ponderosa.  It was a pretty little spread with plenty of good grazing and enough water for a small herd.  Lucas had been trying to improve his stock.  In fact he had negotiated with the Cartwrights for the use of one of their prize stud bulls.  In a freak accident, he had been thrown by his horse. His neck had been broken and he'd died instantly. 

     Adam tried to remember everything he could about the family.  The wife was from back east someplace…Philadelphia, he thought.  There were two little girls.  Venable seemed like decent sort…young, but a hard worker.  And enthusiastic.  Adam remembered thinking that the young man had a good chance of success.  He couldn’t say that about everyone who moved west and attempted ranching.      

     Venable had died about four months ago.  It was unlikely his wife could run the ranch alone.  Apparently she was in trouble.  Adam decided to check out the situation, but at the moment he was most concerned about his daughter.

     “Beth, is anything else troubling you?”

     “No, Pa.  I just was so scared that you and Mama would die.  I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

     “Do you feel better now?”

     “Yes.”  And Adam knew this was so because she was completely relaxed as she leaned against him.

     “Just remember that it’s very unlikely that something would happen to both Mama and me.  But even if that did happen… and it probably never would… there are so many people who love you that you would always have a home here with someone to take care of you.  Do you understand that?”

     “Yes, Pa.”

     “Besides, I plan to be around a long time.  I need to be here to walk you down the aisle when you get married.”

     She began to giggle. “Oh, Pa!  I’m not gonna get married.  Boys are dumb!”

     He laughed along with her and gave her a hug. “Well, I’m sure you think that now, but someday you may change your mind.”

     “No I won’t!  Anyway, I’d only want to marry you, but you’re already married.  So I’ll just live here with you and Mama forever.”  She yawned a huge yawn and snuggled closer.

     Adam didn’t argue with her.  It would be years before he would need to make that bittersweet journey with her.  Just thinking about it gave him a little sinking feeling in his stomach.  But he wouldn’t dwell on it.  Besides, she had fallen asleep and the only trip they’d be making together right now was the one upstairs to tuck her into her bed.

     Two weeks later Adam and Meg paid a visit to Emma Venable.  Between them, they had devised a plan which they hoped would solve a problem for them and for the young widow as well.  During their visit, they offered Emma a job as housekeeper in their home.  At Christmas time, Meg had promised her husband that she would get some permanent help around the house, but it had been difficult to locate a suitable candidate.

     Emma’s face lit up when she heard their proposal.  She had been looking for work, but the shopkeepers weren’t hiring and she wasn’t qualified to teach school even if another teacher had been needed.  She was faced with the discouraging prospect of returning east and living off the charity of her husband’s stern and judgmental brother.

     “I don’t mind selling the ranch.  I need to in order to pay off the mortgage.  But I hate to leave this house.  Lucas put so much into it.  He wanted me to have a nice house because he thought I’d be missing so much from home.  My girls were born here.”  She looked around at the small but tastefully furnished home.  She sighed and put on a brave smile.

     “I’m so grateful for the opportunity to stay in the area that I suppose it’s a small price to pay.  I’m sure I’ll find something suitable.”

     “There’s no reason for you to lose your house, Mrs. Venable,” Adam said.

     Her eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean?  The house will go with the ranch.  I’ll have to find someplace else, but as I said, it shouldn’t be very diffic…”

     “I think you should sell off only a part of the property.  Keep the house and a few acres for yourself and sell the rest.  Your husband was a good rancher and this land is prime.  I can think of at least half a dozen men who’d want it but not need the house.”

     “Really?” she asked hopefully.

     “Sure.  If you want we can help you with the process.  It’s not very difficult.  And we can help make sure you get the best price for the ranch.”

     Emma’s eyes filled with grateful tears.  She looked from Adam to Meg and back again.

     “You have no idea what this means to me.  Thank you so much.”

     “Nonsense,” Meg interjected. “I’m the one who should be grateful.  You’re like an answer to a prayer.”

     So the matter was settled to everyone’s satisfaction.  On the ride home, Adam startled Meg by expressing his doubts that Emma would be with them very long.

     “Why not?” she asked in surprise.

     “Well, she’s a young, good looking woman with a good reputation.  My guess is that she’ll be remarrying soon and that will be the end of your housekeeper.”

     “Surely you’re not serious!” she exclaimed.

     “Surely I am,” he teased her.  “Mark my words.  Her husband’s been dead four months.  In eight months there’ll be a line of suitors at her door.”

     “Adam!  That’s a horrible thing to say!  She obviously loved her husband very much.   She wouldn’t possibly think about marrying again…certainly not so soon!”

     Adam had a sudden and crystal clear premonition where this conversation was going to go.  In an attempt to avoid what he was sure would be a marital spat he said, “I guess you’re right.  I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”  He mentally crossed his fingers that his capitulation would cause Meg to drop the subject. 

     “Well,” she huffed, “I’m glad you can see that.  I mean, if, God forbid, anything was to happen to you, I’d never remarry.”  She paused and he hoped that would be the end of it.  It just wasn’t his lucky day.

     “Adam, if anything happened to me, you wouldn’t get married again, would you?” Meg asked him tremulously.

     Great! he thought, I just walked into a trap that I set myself.  You’d think I’d be a little smarter after all these years!

     He put on his most sincere expression and turned to answer her, but she wasn’t looking at him.  She had her hand over her belly, her eyes were wide, and her lips formed a perfect ‘O’.

     “Meg, what is it?”

     “I think you’d better get me home.”

     “The baby?”

     She nodded.  

      Adam’s relief over avoiding a ridiculous argument filled with “what if’s” was offset by his concern for the ordeal that Meg must now endure.  He slapped the horse’s rump with the reins, and for the rest of the ride his only concern was to get his wife home as quickly as possible.  Their discussion would have to wait for another day. 

                                                     DAISY CARTWRIGHT           

                                                                                                                                August

     Adam sat on his sofa with his head in his hands.   The children had been sent to Grandpa’s, where Hop Sing would fuss over and take good care of them.  Rebecca and Carrie were in the bedroom with Meg.  Adam sat in lonely agony, cringing at each moan or cry from his wife.  Meg’s labors had all been hard and long.  Prior to the birth of Jesse, she suggested to her husband that he go stay with one of his brothers until she had given birth.  She had suggested the same thing before Beth and Annie had been born.   He refused each time.

     “This is ridiculous!” she protested.  “There’s nothing you can do except sit and worry till it’s all over.  Being someplace else might take your mind off things.”

     “Being someplace else would only mean I’d be sitting and worrying someplace else.  I’m not going anywhere.”  His tone and the look he gave her would tolerate no argument.

     Maybe this time things will go faster, Adam thought to himself.  But it had already been more than twenty hours since they had arrived home from Emma Venable’s little house.  Meg had spent some time getting things ready for the children to take to Ben’s.  Her oldest had protested that he didn’t want to be sent away “like a kid”. 

     “Adam, you’re almost eleven.  I don’t consider you a child,” his mother said gently.  She would have ruffled his hair, but he was beginning to resent any overt signs of affection.  This saddened Meg terribly, but she knew it was the way boys his age began to act.  What she was telling him was true.  He was fast leaving childhood behind.   “In fact, it’s because you’re so mature that I need you to help mind your brother and sisters.  Hop Sing isn’t as young as he used to be.  I’m depending on you to keep the others in line and make sure they mind their manners.”

     “Well…alright, Ma.”  She shook her head.  This was yet another sign of his rapid maturing.  He left behind the “Mama” of his childhood and now called her simply “Ma”.  “But you’ll send for us the very first thing, won’t you?”  His eyes were anxious and slightly troubled.  Meg knew what was going on in his mind.  He was old enough now to know that childbirth could be dangerous.  He didn’t know how to tell her, but he was worried about her. 

     She smiled her brightest smile at him. “Of course I will!” she assured him, then added, “You don’t know what a relief it is to me to know that you’ll be keeping an eye on the other three.”

     He smiled back at her and gave her a quick, fervent hug.

     “Adam, I’ll be fine,” she said softly.

     “I know, Ma,” he answered, but his eyes relayed a different message.  He coughed. “Well, I better go hitch up the buckboard.”  And before she could say more, he was running off toward the barn.

     It was some hours before she took to her bed.  She knew her husband went through a mental agony roughly equivalent to the physical pain of labor, so she tried to postpone lying down as long as possible.  Adam stayed with her as long as he could, but she finally shooed him away because it was getting too difficult to remain quiet as her pains came closer together and increased in intensity. 

     “Please go to Hoss’s or Joe’s or your father’s,” she begged him after he had given her a final kiss.

     “No.”

     “Them go wait out by the barn…you know farther away.”

     He shook his head.

     “Well have it your own way then,” she sighed and then grimaced as another contraction began.

     “Out, Adam,” Carrie ordered him, pointing toward the bedroom door. He took a seat on the sofa, where he had spent the greater part of the last twelve hours.  His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and his hair mussed because he had continuously plowed his fingers through it in frustration.  He was unshaven and his clothes were wrinkled. 

     “Well, you look really attractive,” Carrie remarked sarcastically, as she came out of the bedroom.

     “How is she?” was all he replied.

     “I know you won’t believe me, but she’s fine and it won’t be much longer.  Why do you men insist on hanging around at a time like this?  Rebecca said Hoss did the same thing and I know Joe did.  There should be a law against it.”

     He didn’t have a response.

     Carrie put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

     “Look, Adam.  It’s all right.  There’s nothing to worry about.  Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

     “No,” he said more sharply than he had intended.  Then he softened his response to, “No, thank you.  I don’t want anything.”

     Carrie smiled with understanding. “Just as you like.  I’m going back in now.  I promise this will all be over soon.”

     About an hour later Adam heard the familiar and thrilling sound of his child’s indignant first cry.  A moment later Rebecca opened the door, stuck her head out, and told him excitedly, “A girl, Adam!  Yah, and Meg is just fine.  You can come in soon.  We will call you.”

     Every muscle in his body seemed to relax at precisely the same second.  He got up wearily and stepped out the front door, inhaling deeply of the fresh Nevada air.  And he made the same silent vow that he had made continuously for the length of his wife’s labor.  This was their last child.  He simply could not put Meg through this again.  She was in her late thirties.  They had married later than most couples so the babies had come later.  This pregnancy had been a surprise because he had tried with the few means available to him to limit the size of their family.  He didn’t need to have his wife produce a child each year to confirm his masculinity.  Adam was a rancher and he knew more than a little about reproduction.  He would never say this to Meg, but when it came right down to it there were times the female of any species was more fertile than other times.  That knowledge was well and good when making plans for the Ponderosa herds, but it seemed to desert him completely on cold nights when she wanted to snuggle up.  He sighed silently.  He’d just have to try harder until the day that Mother Nature would take the worry of pregnancy out of their hands.

     Half an hour later he was being introduced to his new daughter.  Meg looked as she always did at these times…exhausted but happy.

     “Adam, I think we finally have a baby with straight hair!” she said delightedly.  “And she’s going to be a saucy one.  Look at how she’s sticking out her tongue!”

     “You’ve definitely decided to call her Margaret?” Carrie answered as she and Rebecca completed the task of cleaning up after the birth.

     “Mmm hmm,” Adam answered taking the warm little bundle from his wife.  “But we’ll call her Daisy to avoid any confusion.”

     “It wasn’t my first choice for her name, but Adam absolutely refused to allow me to name her Allegra,” Meg informed her sisters-in-law with a tired smile.

     “Allegra?  Where did you ever come up with a name like that?” Carrie demanded, hands on hips.

     “It’s from a sweet poem that I like.  One of the children is referred to as ‘laughing Allegra’ and I thought it was pretty…you know, such a charming image.  Musical.”

     “Well, it may be pretty, but Margaret is such a good sensible name.  And the child would be teased with a name like Allegra.  You wouldn’t want that,” Rebecca added in her quiet way.

     “No, you’re right.  I wouldn’t want her to be teased because her mother gave her a rather fanciful name.  So Daisy is who she will be.”

     “Daisy!  I like that!” Carrie exclaimed, as she bent over to look at her new niece.  “You are a very precious posy,” she whispered to the infant, and then she kissed her gently on the forehead.  “Now your cousin Daniel will have a playmate,” she added, referring to her own little son, born four months earlier.  “Daisy and Daniel, Daniel and Daisy,” she chanted.  “I just love having babies in the house.” 

     An hour later they were alone together with their new little daughter.  Carrie had gone home and Rebecca was preparing lunch for all of them.  These were precious moments and Adam clearly remembered each time he had spent these quiet few minutes with his wife and new baby.  Meg insisted on undressing the child and doing a thorough examination.

     “Well, she’s got all her fingers and toes,” she said in a satisfied tone of voice.

     “Did you think she wouldn’t?”

     “It never hurts to check.  She has a tiny birthmark on her shoulder, but it might disappear in time.  Other than that, she’s just perfect!”  Receiving no response to this, Meg looked up when she had finished swaddling the infant.  Adam had a strange expression on his face.

     “What?” she asked.  He didn’t answer and she grew alarmed.  “Adam, what is it?’ she repeated, panic creeping into her voice.

     “Nothing.  It’s nothing,” he hurried to reassure her.   “It’s just that Pa told me that my mother had a birthmark on her shoulder.”

     “Is that all?  My goodness, you frightened me for a minute.  I think that’s a lovely coincidence…you know…it sort of ties the generations together.  I can’t wait to tell Papa.”  She turned her attention back to the baby.

     It was as if her husband hadn’t heard her.  He continued to speak quietly, almost to himself.  “My grandfather told her the mark was made when an angel kissed her there.  She called it her angel kiss.”

     Meg lifted her gaze from their infant daughter and stared at him, her eyes wide. “How long have you known about that?” she asked him softly.

     He shrugged. “When you told me about that…uhh…incident a few years ago, I asked Pa if he had ever heard that particular phrase.  He didn’t remember right away, but a day or so later he told me the story about my mother.  Said he hadn’t thought about it in years.”

     “And you never told me?”

     He shook his head.

     “Why not?”

     He shrugged again. “I’m not sure.”

     “You knew all this time and never said anything?”  Her tone was more puzzled than accusatory.

     Adam’s expression was somewhat abashed, but he said nothing.

     Meg lifted Daisy to her lips and kissed the child’s forehead tenderly.  She cuddled her close. “Do you believe me now, Adam?” she asked quietly.

     “I never said I didn’t believe you”

     “No, you never did,” she agreed.  “But I think you thought I was hallucinating or something.”

     “Maybe you’re right.”

     “And now?  Don’t you agree it was some kind of miracle that happened?”

     “Right now I can say for certain that you’re holding a miracle in your arms.  As for the other…well, I’m still thinking about it.”

     “I think that sometimes you think too much.”

     “It’s not the first time I’ve been told that.” He tilted his head. “Are you angry that I didn’t say something before this?”

     She smiled. “No.  I’ve always been sure of what happened that night.  I think you needed to hear about angel kiss more than I did.”  She looked down at the child in her arms. “In any case, you’re right about one thing.  I am holding a miracle.  What a joy it’ll be to watch our little Daisy blossom and grow!” 

     As the months passed, life went on as usual.  Changes were coming about in Virginia City.  The mines were closing and people beginning to move on.  The population stabilized, then dropped slightly.  Still, the ranchers were less affected than many others because the railroad made it easier and easier to ship their beef to distant markets.  And the Ponderosa was still doing well in its timber enterprises.                                                                                                                

     The seasons came and went…a cool and busy fall with all of the little Cartwrights except Annie, Lottie and the babies in school, then another very merry Christmas celebration, made merrier still by the presence of the two babies, Daniel and Daisy.

     “Here, you give that little miss to me,” Hoss said to Adam, holding out his hands and taking Daisy from her father’s arms.  The brothers and their father were seated in the living room of Ben’s house on Christmas morning, waiting for the children to finish breakfast, so they could begin their own.  Joe and Ben were watching Daniel scoot around the room on all fours.

     “Looks like this one’ll be a handful, Joseph,” his father remarked as the baby headed for the base of the Christmas tree yet again.

     “I know, Pa.  I must be getting old.  I can’t figure out where he gets all that energy.  It’s a miracle that Carrie can keep up with him,” Joe answered, scooping up his son in time to prevent him from pulling strings of popcorn from the lower branches.  He was rewarded by a comical, though fulminating look from his youngest child.

     “What’s this I hear about a trip, Hoss?” Ben asked, watching his middle son bounce Daisy up and down gently, causing her to giggle in high-pitched baby tones.

     “Well, Pa.  I been meanin’ to  talk to ya about that,” Hoss answered as Daisy reached for the loops of his string tie.  “Rebecca’s been feeling a little sad with all these babies around.  We don’t really want no more, but I know that sometimes she wishes…well, anyhow, I thought I’d like to take her back to Germany for a while.  She ain’t seen her folks back there in more ‘n fifteen years.  I know it’s asking a lot.  We’d be gone moren’ two months and that’s a long time to be away.  ‘Course I could send her alone with the kids, but I don’t like the idea of her travelin’ all that way by herself.  So if it’s alright with the three of you, I thought I’d take her this summer.  We’d leave around the end of June and be back in September.  It’s a bad time to leave the ranch but it’s a good time to travel.”

     There was a brief silence.

     “More than two months?” Joe asked.

     “Yeah, well, with the travel time and all.  I guess we could try to cut it down a little but I don’t see how we could…”

     “I think you should do it,” Adam said quietly.  “It would be wonderful for all of you.  And I have to say I admire your courage in hauling four kids on a trip like that.  I don’t mind the extra work, if Joe doesn’t.”

     “I don’t mind,” Joe added hastily.  “I was just surprised.  What did Rebecca say when you told her?”

     Hoss coughed and handed Daisy back to her father.

     “Well, I ain’t exactly told her yet.  I wanted to see what you said first.”

     His father and brothers stared at him, then at each other.

     “Well, what are you waiting for, boy?  It’s Christmas!” Ben laughed.

     “It shore it is, Pa,” Hoss chuckled, and got up in search of his wife. 

                                                                                                                     Mid June

 The pace of ranch life became hectic as the months turned warmer and the days grew longer.  Sometimes the older boys were pulled from school to help out at this busy time of year. 

     Throughout it all, Daniel and Daisy grew and developed.  Perhaps it was because Adam and Meg knew that this would truly be their last baby, they took extra joy in marking her accomplishments…sleeping though the night, her first tooth, creeping around the floor, her first tentative steps. 

     She was a sunny baby, reminiscent of Beth, but with a little more spunk, though not quite as demanding as Annie.  Whereas Adam and Annie strongly favored their father, and Jesse and Beth their mother, Daisy was a lovely blending of the best features of both her parents.  And, though her hair wasn’t exactly straight, her mother was pleased to note it appeared to be merely wavy.

     In early June, Rebecca was making final preparations for the long awaited voyage to Germany when Lottie came in from her play complaining she was hot.

     “Yah, schatzie, it is very warm today,” her mother agreed, looking up from yet another list she was making for the trip.  She didn’t like what she saw.  It was easy to recognize the glazed eyes of a sick child. “Come here, baby.”

     A quick examination of her younger daughter revealed that the child had come down with the measles.  She was the last of their children to contract the illness and Rebecca did some quick mental calculations.  With a little luck, Lottie would be fully recovered before they had to leave.  She sighed in relief and then put the little girl to bed.  When her boys were back for lunch, she sent the twins over to Adam’s house with the news.  Lottie and Annie were constant playmates…it was more than likely that Annie would be sick as well.                               

     All of Adam’s children except Annie and the baby had had the measles.  More than any other illness, this one panicked his normally calm and unflappable wife.  Meg had two siblings who had died of the disease.  It frightened her. 

     “I don’t understand why you get so upset.  Your sister and brother died before you were born.  You never even knew them,” Adam pointed out to her the last time they had been visited by this common childhood illness.  “And Adam and Jesse weren’t even very ill when they got it.  Beth will be fine.  She’s a healthy little girl and you take good care of her.”

     She wasn’t very reassured by his words. “I know what you’re trying to say.  I can’t explain it myself.  Chicken pox and the mumps don’t upset me like this.  All I know is, the measles scare me.”

     A few days after Rebecca discovered the cause of Lottie’s fever, Annie came down with measles as well.  And to make matters worse, Daisy was warm and unusually irritable, too.  Within a day, the familiar spots began to appear on both girls.  Meg moved them into the same room and temporarily deserted her husband to sleep with them.

     Their concern for the baby was quickly supplanted by a deeper anxiety over Annie.  Daisy appeared to have a relatively mild case, but Annie suffered with a very high fever.  She moaned and tossed in a way that was frighteningly familiar to Adam.  Meg had tossed and moaned in exactly the same way when she had been felled by an infection after she had been shot.  He watched helplessly as Meg attended to the two children, day and night, wearing herself out.  For the first time, Adam reconsidered his notion that measles was a simple and inevitable fact of childhood.  Annie was a very sick little girl.  It broke his heart to see his feisty little daughter one moment lying motionless and pale, except for those obscene spots, then twisting restlessly the next.

     One night he was awakened by the frightened cries of his wife.  Annie had suffered a seizure.  For what seemed like an eternity her little body stiffened, then shook and trembled uncontrollably and her eyes seemed to roll back in her head.  It was terrifying to behold.  Almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over.  She went limp and her eyes closed normally.   

     This last episode caused the exhausted Meg to break down.  She collapsed into the rocking chair, one arm crossed over her breast, her other hand covering her mouth.  Eyes streaming with tears, she rocked back and forth and wept.

    “Adam I’m so scared.  My poor little girl!  My poor Annie.  I don’t know what to do to help her.  Oh dear God, please don’t let anything happen to that child.  I’ll go mad.  Oh God…oh God…oh God…” she continued to cry as she rocked. 

     Adam knelt beside her. “Shhh.  Shhh.  Meg, her fever’s very high.  That’s why she had the seizure.  Paul said that might happen, remember?  You’re doing everything you can.  We just have to wait it out.  It can’t be much longer now.”

     “I’m scared Adam.  Hold me.”

     He stood and pulled her into his arms.  As he held his distraught wife, he looked over her shoulder to his daughter, now quiet on the bed, and said a silent prayer for her recovery. 

     “Sweetheart, you know Annie.  She always has to be a little difficult.  Trust her to have the worst possible case of measles.  She’ll be fine,” he tried to reassure Meg.  But he was worried.  How much more could the little five-year old take?  He couldn’t bear to think of what might happen.  The illness of a loved one was one of the few things that could make Adam feel truly helpless.  He had agonized over Joe’s condition on the occasion he had accidentally shot his younger brother.  Fear had gripped his heart when his wife had become gravely ill with an infection a few years earlier.  And now his vibrant, sassy little daughter lay virtually motionless on her bed, fever racking her small body.   More prayers filled his heart.

     Meg pushed away from him, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m alright now.  You go get some sleep.  I’ll see to the girls.”

     “You need to get some sleep.  I’ll stay up with them,” he argued.

     “No!  I’m fine…really.  Maybe you could just get me some tea before you got to bed.  I could use some.”

     They looked at each other, fighting a visual battle over who would stay with the children.  It wasn’t a fair fight.  Nothing in Adam’s arsenal could prevail over Meg’s maternal instincts.  He blinked first.

     “I’ll get you some tea,” he conceded, bending over to kiss her cheek.

     “Make sure you put enough honey in it,” she reminded him as he turned to leave.

     “How much is enough?  A tablespoon?”

     “Two.”

     He tuned back to look at her and they smiled weakly at each other in spite of the circumstances.  When he returned, she was in the rocking chair cuddling the sleeping Annie in her lap.  She rocked gently and hummed.  Adam placed the teacup on the bedside table.

     “Call me if there’s any change or if you need anything.”

     “Of course," she answered absently, her attention focused on the child she held. 

     Adam was awakened several hours later by Meg shaking his shoulder gently.

     “Adam.  Adam.  Wake up.”

     He bolted up in bed, his eyes seeking her in the dark. “What?   Is everything alright?  What is it?” he mumbled sleepily, raking his hand through his hair, then rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

     “Come see.  I think her fever’s broken.  I think she’s going to be okay.”

     Annie lay on the bed, her face pale except for the spots.  But her complexion was somewhat back to normal, now lacking the bright red tint on her cheeks that had been a result of the fever.  Her curls rested damply across her brow.  Her father bent and pressed his lips to her forehead.  He rose smiling.

     “You’re right.  The fever’s broken.  Now we just have to keep her warm and let her rest.  In a few days she’ll be demanding to get up and run around.” He took Meg’s hand. “Why don’t you come to bed?  You’re all worn out.  I’m sure she’ll sleep through the rest of the night.”

     She shook her head. “No, I’d rather stay here.  You’re probably right.  Annie will sleep through the night, but the baby’s still feverish.  I need to be here for her,” she replied, stroking Daisy’s cheek gently.

     Adam knew it was futile to argue with her. “Do you want any more tea?” he asked.

     She shook her head. “I’m fine.  I’ll lie down and rest next to Annie.  I’ll let you know if I need anything.

     “Call if….”

     “I will,” she answered cutting him off and dropping gratefully onto the bed next to their daughter. 

     In the early hour just before dawn Adam was once more awakened.  This time, instead of a gentle hand on his shoulder, he rose to a piercing scream that caused him to vault out of bed and run to the sick room.  Meg was holding Daisy in her arms, alternately rocking and shaking the infant. 

     “Daisy, wake up!  Daisy! Daisy!” she cried, looking up as he bolted through the door.  “I can’t wake her up.  I don’t know what’s wrong.  Adam, she won’t wake up!”  The words tumbled helter-skelter from Meg’s lips as she tried frantically to get a response from the baby.

     “Give her to me.” Adam took the child from her mother’s arms.  He placed her on the bed and listened at her chest.  He felt for a pulse at her throat and tiny wrist.  Gently he lifted her lids to check her pupils.   He felt her little feet and hands while Meg hovered over them the entire time.

     Finally he raised his daughter’s precious fingers to his lips and kissed them tenderly.  He returned her hand to her side with the care of someone handling a delicate porcelain figurine.  His head dropped forward briefly and his eyes closed.  Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, he turned to face his wife and shook his head.

     For a fraction of a second his actions didn’t register in her sleep deprived mind.  Then a sound unlike one Adam had ever heard before issued from his wife…a low primitive moan, which seemed to emanate from within the deepest part of her.  It was a low keening wail…the universal lamentation of a mother for her lost child.

     “Noooo….noooo…noooo.”  Her cries built in crescendo, as she backed away from the bed, as if distance could negate the tragic event.  Adam went after her, grabbing her arms. “NO!” she screamed and beat his chest with her fists.  “NO!  NO!  NO! NO! NO!” 

     She shook her head back and forth as she pushed at his chest and tried to escape.  Her eyes were wild with pain, anger and denial.  As suddenly as her outburst began, it ceased.  Her eyes rolled back and she sank into dark blessed oblivion, slumping against him in a faint.

     He picked her up and carried her to their bedroom.  No sooner had he laid her down than their three oldest children rushed into the room.

     “Pa, what happened?”

     “I heard Mama scream.  What’s the matter?”

     “Is Mama sick?”

     Their eyes were large and frightened as they approached the bed and asked their questions.

      “Your mother fainted.  She’ll be alright in a little while.”

     Before he could say more, Annie, sleepy-eyed and pale, appeared in the doorway.

     “I feel better.  I’m hungry.  Can I have breakfast?”

     Four pairs of expectant eyes looked to their father.  It was next to impossible for him to think.  His infant daughter was dead, his wife unconscious, his children demanding answers. With a gargantuan effort he gathered his thoughts and tried to devise a plan.  Should he send the children off to his father’s or one of his brother's?  Send for the doctor?  The undertaker?  If he left the room to make breakfast for his brood, Meg would wake up alone.  He couldn’t risk that.  He bit his lower lip and tried to think logically.

     “Adam, I want you and Beth to make breakfast for all of you.”

     “We’re not allowed to use the stove, Pa.  You know how Ma is afraid of fire.”

     This was true.  Meg was exceptionally careful in the kitchen.  She had heard too many tales of women or children setting themselves on fire because of a stray spark or a dress that passed too close to an open flame.

     “I know, but I’m giving you permission just this once.  Beth and Jesse set the table, cut the bread, and pour the milk.  Adam, you cook.  There are plenty of eggs in the pantry.  Get going.  I’ll be there in a minute.”  Three pairs of bare feet scuttled out the door.  Only Annie remained.

     “What about me, Pa?’

     “What about you?  Go get some breakfast with the others.”

     “You didn’t say what I should do.”

     “Oh.  Well…let’s see.”  Adam ran his fingers through his hair while he tried to think of a task that would satisfy her.

     “I know.  After you’ve eaten, you and Beth wash the dishes.  She can do the dishes, but you do all the forks and spoons.  Think you can do that?”

     “Uh-huh,” she nodded her head up and down.

     “Good.  Then get along and eat something.”

     She turned and trotted off.  Adam sighed deeply, his head dropping to his chest.  He finally allowed himself the luxury of shedding tears for his baby.    

     The service was simple and would be held the following day.  It was summer and there could be no long period between death and burial.  Rebecca prepared the baby for her final rest.  Meg just could not or would not do it, and she refused to let Carrie anywhere near.  Poor Carrie, thinking of her own miscarriages, had made the mistake of telling Meg how sorry she was and that she knew how she felt. 

     Meg turned on her like a rattler attacking its prey. “Never, NEVER say you know how I feel!  You can’t possibly compare the two.  I held Daisy in my arms.  I nursed her, taught her to walk, bathed her, played with her.  Yours never even had names!” she hissed, her eyes on fire and her hands clenched in tight fists at her side.

     Carrie’s mouth dropped open.  Joe, standing nearby, had overheard these remarks, as had Adam.  They rushed over and Joe intervened.

     “Meg, Carrie only meant…”

     “I know what she meant.  And I meant what I said.  Don’t make excuses.”

     “Meg!  Apologize now,” Adam said, his voice quiet, but full of anger.

     She turned on him. “Get her out of my house!” she demanded, pointing at bewildered and wounded Carrie.  She stormed off.

     A strange reversal of characters took place.  Joe, normally hot-headed and quick to act, stepped in front of his brother, who was about to go after his wife and drag her back for an apology.

     “Adam!  Let her go.  She probably doesn’t even know what she’s saying.”

     “Joe, she had no right to say those things.”  Adam turned to Carrie. “I’m sorry, Carrie.  I don’t what’s gotten into her.  I know she’s angry and grieving, but she had no right to say those…”

     His sister-in-law held up a hand to stop him. “Joe’s right.  She’s out of her mind with grief and she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”  She took a deep breath.  “And she’s probably right.  You can’t compare the two situations.  I think it’s better if I go.” She hugged Adam tightly, whispering, “I’m so sorry about all this.  Please don’t worry about what just happened.  We’ll make things right when she’s had some time.”  She stepped back and looked him in the eyes.  “She needs time, Adam.  She’s still in shock.  And remember, if there’s anything I can do…watch the children, cook, mend, whatever, you just let me know.”

     Adam closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and nodded. “Thanks.  But whatever just happened here I’ll expect you both to be at the burial tomorrow morning.  You wouldn’t stay away, would you?  Meg may not realize it, but she needs you there.  I need you there.”

     Joe gave his brother a quick hug. “We’ll be there.  You take care of yourself and what Carrie said goes for me too.  Don’t worry about the ranch right now.  Take all the time you need.”      

     Immediately upon hearing the sad news, Hoss and Rebecca offered to postpone their trip.  Adam wouldn’t hear of it and even Meg told them they should go.  They had planned for months and she would be fine, she assured them.

     “I dunno, Adam.  I still think we could postpone this trip.  We could go next year.  Heck the kids’ll be bigger then…probably appreciate it more,” Hoss argued with his brother one evening.

     “Thanks, but you go and have a good time.  We’ll be fine.”

     “Well if you ask me, Meg sure don’t look fine, and I ain’t the only one who noticed it.”

     “She’s just lost a baby Hoss”

     “Yeah, well so have you.  I seen you lookin’ out for her, but who’s lookin’ out for you?”

     “I can look out for myself, thanks.”  Then realizing this didn’t sound very grateful he placed his hand on Hoss’ shoulder and added, “I appreciate the offer.  We both do.  But things will straighten out after a while.  It’s just going to take some time.  Work’ll keep me busy and Meg will come around after a while, I’m sure.  You and Rebecca just go and have a good time.”   

     They gratefully decided to proceed as planned, although they had doubts as to whether or not Meg would be fine.

     Adam couldn’t put his finger on it.  He was aware that people grieve in different ways, but something was wrong here.  He hadn’t seen his wife shed a single tear…not when she awakened from her faint, not when Daisy was laid out in her coffin, not at the grave.

     Adam shed his tears quietly and in private.  He broke down once when he was discussing funeral arrangements with his father.  For some reason it occurred to him that adults take great pleasure in miniaturizing everything possible for children—their toys were miniature versions of adult items—play stoves, baby dolls, rocking horses, wooden guns, boats, and on and on.  Many of their clothes were small versions of the adult equivalent…tiny cowboy boots, wee gloves, lacy little stockings and garters, ridiculously small chaps.  Adults oooh’d and aaaah’d over these things.  But the thought of the little coffin that would cradle Daisy seemed somehow indecent to Adam.  He lost what control he had and wept while Ben stood by helplessly.  Eventually he regained his composure.  He had to be there for Meg, for the children.  Each one took their sister’s death a little differently. 

     His elder boy was hit hard, but much like his father, he grieved privately.  Outwardly he tried to be strong, to do what he could to keep his siblings out from underfoot.  He exhausted himself by doing extra chores.  Intuitively he knew that right now he could not go to the two people who heretofore had given him their wisdom and strength when he was troubled.  He spent more time with Ben, feeling a modicum of comfort with his grandfather, who knew when to talk, when to ask questions, and when to be silent.  

     Jesse was endlessly curious.  He went through a period when he had a particular and gruesome fascination with the fate of his baby sister’s physical remains.  Difficult as it was, Adam answered the boy patiently, using the opportunity to point out his own belief that mankind was more than just flesh and blood.  He was surprised at his son’s interest in a person’s spiritual makeup.  Some of his thoughts were amazingly deep, in his father’s opinion. These discussions brought back memories of the questions he himself asked when Inger and Marie had died.  Then suddenly, in the midst of such a philosophical discussion, Jesse would look at him with tears in his eyes and ask, “But why did she have to die, Pa?  She was just a baby.  She didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”  And Adam would remember that he was only a nine-year old trying to deal with a tragedy, and not a budding Aristotle or St. Paul.

     Beth mourned more openly.  She retrieved some of her baby sister’s clothes and dressed her dolls in them, cuddling them close.  She had always been an affectionate child, but she sought out more kisses and hugs than ever before.  And Adam caught her more than once in the hammock, weeping quietly as she rocked back and forth.  She would dampen his shirt with her tears and cry helplessly, “I miss her, Pa.  I miss her so much.”  All he could do was commiserate and hold her until the storm passed.

     He wasn’t sure how much Annie actually understood.  A few times she asked when Daisy was coming back.  “I know she’s in heaven, but when’s she coming back?”  When he tried to explain, she got a little panicky and asked, “Pa, is Germany near heaven?  Will Uncle Hoss and Aunt Rebecca, and Lottie come back?”  He did his best to help her comprehend the difference.

     He wished with all his heart he had some help from his wife in this, but on the subject of their baby’s death Meg was frighteningly silent.   The changes that had come over her since that early morning were dramatic.  Of course he expected her to grieve.  But when he tried to talk to her about Daisy she shut him up with, “I don’t want to talk about this now.”  She went about her chores as usual, but almost silently.  When his children began to return to normal, to laugh and joke, to argue and play, she remained quiet.  Dinner would have been almost unbearable except for Adam’s efforts to create a familiar atmosphere for the youngsters.  Had it been up to his wife, the meal would have been eaten in dark silence.

     He noticed that her eating habits had changed.  She had lost weight.  Concerned, he confronted her about it.

     “I’m eating,” she responded.  “I have a cup of tea right there on the table,” she pointed out.

     “Drinking tea isn’t the same as eating,” he argued gently.

     "I wish you would stop lecturing me,” she answered quietly.  “I’m fine.  Please don’t bring this subject up again.”

     He didn’t want to upset her further, so he let it drop.  But there was one thing above all that alarmed him.  He had always loved her eyes.  They were incredibly expressive and he could read her moods just by looking at them.  When he looked into their dark brown depths now he saw…nothing.  It was as if the part of her that felt emotions had been turned off.  To every situation she reacted in the same, non-emotional way.  There was no laughter in her eyes, no anger, no joy, no grief, no sorrow, nothing.

     Adam berated himself for spoiling the one thing that might have brought her some comfort.  Meg was a gifted pianist.  He was certain that she didn’t realize herself the extent of her talent, but it had been obvious to him early in their relationship.  He had made provisions for a piano to be at the house when she came to Nevada for Joe and Carrie’s wedding, many years ago.  Sometimes she simply played for his family’s entertainment, or to accompany them as they sang songs in the evening.  But on more than one occasion he had caught her playing when she thought she was alone.  He could see her lose herself in the music.  She did more than simply hit the correct keys in a pleasing manner.  Something deep inside her connected with the emotion of the piece she was playing and this found its way to her fingers.  At these times he could tell that she was completely unaware of her surroundings, lost in the beauty of the composition.  After their marriage, he had seen this same thing occur numerous times.

     Some weeks after the baby’s death, Adam came home and heard her playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  Perhaps her music would be able to give her the comfort he wanted to give her, but which she seemed incapable of receiving.  But he became concerned when, day after day, this piece was the only one she would play.  Suddenly the hauntingly beautiful melody began to sound like a funeral dirge.

     “That’s lovely, sweetheart, but why don’t you try something else today?” he asked.  “Maybe something a little lighter.  That piece is so sad.”

      She stopped playing, paused, and quietly pulled the cover down over the keys.

     “You’re right,” she agreed, rising from the bench.  “It’s very sad.”  And to his knowledge, she didn’t play the piano anymore at all.        

     About six weeks after Daisy died, Adam turned to Meg in bed.  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, rubbing his nose against her cheek, inhaling her natural perfume.  He slipped his arm under her and rolled part way on top of her, beginning to kiss her gently.  She didn’t refuse him.  Her participation was dutiful.  She did what was expected of her…silently.  It was the most unsatisfactory love-making he had experienced in all their years of marriage.  When it was over, she immediately turned her back on him.  Had his need not been so great, he would have discontinued the act as soon as he realized what was or was not happening.  And in the back of his mind some thought kept trying to surface…something he felt he should remember.  A gut instinct that told him it wouldn’t be pleasant, but it was important nevertheless.   He sighed to himself and tried to get some sleep.

                                                                                                                 Mid August

     The Ponderosa was always a busy place in the summer.  With Hoss out of the country, Adam, Joe and Ben’s tasks seemed unending.  One evening as they were all headed home Ben announced that he needed one of them to go to Denver.  An important logging contract was being offered by the railroad and they needed a Cartwright there to bid on it.

     “I’d go myself, boys, but you know I’m expecting a delegation from that Mexican ranchers association to be here next week.  I think we have a good chance of selling them some of our prime stock for their breeding programs.  They’ll be staying at the house and I’ll be tied up.  Joe, I guess you should go.”

     “Sure, Pa.”

     “No, Pa.  I’d like to go,” Adam cut in.

     “Son, I thought maybe you’d be needed at home for a while.”

     “If it’s all the same with you, I’d like to go.  How long do you figure it’ll take?”

     “A week…ten days at the most, including travel.  Are you sure you want to do this?” Ben asked, puzzled.

     “If Joe doesn’t mind, I’d like to go.”

     “Joseph?” his father asked, looking at him.

     “It doesn’t matter to me, Pa.  If Adam wants to go, he can.  He’s better at that sort of thing than I am anyway.”

     “If I’m not prying, son, can I ask why you want to go now?  Don’t you think you should be around for…”

     “Pa, right now I think Meg needs a little time alone to…to try and heal.  I don’t do it on purpose, but I think maybe I’m nagging her and trying to rush her through something that she needs to take her time with. She can manage the kids without me for a week or so.  She’s done it before.  I’ll be back before school starts.” 

     “Well, it’s up to you, Adam.  But you tell her if she needs anything, she can send one of the children to me or your brother.”

     Adam smiled gratefully at his father. “She knows that, Pa.  Thanks.” 

      “Well, I’m off.”  Adam bent and kissed his wife on the lips.  “If you need anything just ask Pa or Joe.”

      “I will,” Meg answered dully.

     “You sure you don’t want Emma to come and stay?”

     Adam was referring to the woman who had been a housekeeper for them in the past.  As he had predicted, the young widow did meet someone and remarry.  She had been with them until Daisy was about eight months old, but now lived in Virginia City with her shopkeeper husband and her daughters.

     “No.  I’ll be alright,” she answered, her voice totally lackluster.

     “Aren’t you going to tell me to have a safe trip?”

     “Of course.  Have a safe trip,” she parroted with the enthusiasm of someone being told they had to spend the next four hours watching paint dry.

     He bent to pick up the carpetbag containing his things, changed his mind, turned and took her by the shoulders.  He gave her his most direct and penetrating stare.

     “Sweetheart, please try to eat more.  You’re getting so thin.  Take care of yourself.”

     She nodded but her eyes were filled with that frightening nothingness.

     He kissed her again. “I love you Meg.”

     “I love you too.”  But to Adam her response sounded as automatic as saying ‘God bless you’ to someone who sneezed.   There was no real feeling in it. 

     “I’m tired of vegables.  I want meat!”  Annie demanded petulantly.

     “You have to cook meat.  You know we can’t use the stove.  Mama’ll skin us alive,” Jesse answered.

     “Mama’s sick.  She won’t know.”

     “She’ll know if we burn the house down.  We just gotta eat what we can get outta the pantry.  Beth is there any more bread?”  young Adam asked as the four sat around the kitchen table trying to make a meal of jarred beans, jarred peas, and carrots from the root cellar, and a hunk of cheese.

     “No, we finished that two days ago.  There’s only some soda crackers, but I think Mama took them,” his sister replied as she pushed the vegetables around her plate in a desultory manner.  She looked at her older brother with troubled eyes. “Adam what’s the matter with Mama?  Why won’t she get out of bed?  Why did she stop cooking for us?”

     He shook his head and forked some beans into his mouth. “I don’t know,” he said, after he swallowed.  “I know she’s sad about Daisy.  Maybe she’s sad about Pa being away too.  She said she just wanted to stay in bed and we weren’t to trouble her.  I don’t think she’s the kind of sick when you need the doctor.”

     “Why don’t we go to Grandpa’s?  Hop Sing could cook for us,” suggested Jesse, who was rapidly tiring of the vegetarian regime they had been forced to adopt.

     “No!” his older brother declared.  “Grandpa has a house full of company.  He doesn’t need all of us over there right now.  He’s busy with important ranch work.”

     “Then what about Uncle Joe and Aunt Carrie?  Couldn’t we go there?  Pa said we could go there in a ‘mergency,” Annie proposed.

     “This isn’t an emergency.  We have plenty of food to eat.  We just can’t cook anything.  Besides, she busy taking care of Uncle Joe,” Adam answered, referring to the broken leg his uncle had sustained two days after Adam left for Denver.

     “I think it’s a ‘mergency,” his little sister muttered under her breath.

     “Stop complaining, Annie,” Beth interrupted with unusual force.  “Adam’s right.  We have enough to eat.  We’re Cartwrights and we can take care of each other.  Besides, Pa will be back soon.  He said he’d be back in a week.  He’ll fix everything,” she added with assurance.

     Their father had been gone nine days when Jesse came up with what he thought was a clever plan.  He and Adam would go fishing after they had finished their chores.  They’d catch some fish for dinner.

     “What kind of stupid plan is that?” Adam asked him.  “We can’t eat raw fish.”

     “No, but we can make a fire in the yard and cook the fish over it…you know, like when we go fishin’ with Pa or Uncle Hoss.  They let you make a fire then and cook the fish.  We can do it in the yard.”

     His brother looked at him doubtfully and Jesse seized the opportunity to elaborate.

     “Look around, Adam.  There’s only dirt in the yard.  There’s no grass or trees or anything that could catch fire.  We’ll stay far away from the house and barn.  We can put pails of water near just in case.  If you’re allowed to do that when we go fishing, why not do it right here in the yard?”

     “I don’t know…”

     “Mama said we can’t use the stove.  We wouldn’t be.  And we’d only be doing something you’ve been allowed to do before,” Jesse argued persuasively.

      “But in the yard?”

     “We’ll be real careful and it’ll be okay.  We’ll make sure the fire is out when we’re done.  C’mon, Adam.  I don’t wanna eat any more cold vegetables.”

    “Well…I guess it’s alright.  But you have to remember one thing.”

     “What?”

     “We gotta catch the fish first!”  

     “Just what’s going on here?”

     Four pairs of startled eyes looked up to see Adam dismounting and walking over to the nicely burning fire in the middle of the front yard.  He had ridden up behind the house and his children, eagerly watching their first hot meal in almost ten days sizzling in the cast iron frying pan, had never even heard him.

     “Pa!” they all shouted at once, and jumping up, surrounded him.  They hugged him wherever they could reach and danced around as he tried not to be toppled by their enthusiastic reception.

     “Hey!  Hey!  Settle down!”  He reached down and picked up Annie.  “Now, answer my question.  What’s going on?  Where’s your mother?”

     “Mama’s sick,” Annie said, almost choking him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed.

     “No she’s not.  She’s just sad.”

     “She’s in the house.”

     “She went to bed when you left and she stayed there this whole time.”

     Each one reported what they perceived to be the truth. 

     “Adam,” he said to the older boy.  “Tell me what’s going on.  Is your mother sick?  Did you get the doctor?”

    “No, Pa.  She’s not that kind of sick.  Beth is right.  She’s sad.  And Jesse’s right too.  She hasn’t gotten out of bed the whole while you were gone.  We were tired of eating cold stuff so we caught fish and made a fire and we were cooking it here.  We didn’t touch the stove…promise!  And we were being very careful.  See all the water?”  And he pointed anxiously to the four buckets of water which were in close proximity to the fire.

     Adam put his little daughter down and began to walk toward the house. “You stay out here and keep your eye on that fire.  I’ll be right back.” 

     The room was dark, shades drawn, no lamps lit.  As soon as he opened the door, Adam’s senses were assaulted by a foul odor…an unemptied chamber pot.  His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light and he saw his wife, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.  He approached her and was dismayed to see that she appeared even thinner than when he had left.  What the hell was going on here?  Was she trying to starve herself to death?  He sat down on the bed beside her.

     “Meg?  I’m home.”

     She turned and looked at him and he was appalled to see dark circles under her eyes.  He bent to kiss her and was further stunned to note that she smelled horrible, as if she hadn’t bathed in days.  How could this be?  His wife was fastidious.  She insisted that their children bathe twice a week, instead of the once that was most common.  Their clothes were changed regularly, including undergarments.  ‘Cleanliness is next to Godliness’ was her by-word.  Yet here she lay, apparently unwashed, hair knotted and unkempt, in a nightgown that probably hadn’t been changed for several weeks.  The fact that she had used the chamber pot was testament to the depths to which she had sunk.  She hated them and would venture out in the coldest, foulest weather to the outhouse in order to avoid using the ceramic containers.

     “Meg, what is it?  Are you sick?  What’s wrong?”  

     “I’m fine.” Her voice was thin and flat, devoid of emotion.

     “You’re not fine.  Why are you in bed?”

     She shrugged slightly. “I just want to be here.”

     “What about the kids?  Why haven’t you been taking care of them?  They tell me they haven’t had a hot meal since I left.”

     “There’s food…in the pantry.”

     “Yes, there’s food in the pantry, but they know they can’t use the stove!  So they’ve been eating cold…”  He stopped in mid sentence.  The niggling thought that had been floating in his mind, as foggy and clouded as a poorly developed photograph, suddenly came into clear and frighteningly sharp focus.  Her mother!  This is exactly what her mother had done after Meg’s father and brother had been reported lost at sea.  Hadn’t she told him the story herself, many years ago, on the beach in Boston?  And he remembered what his reaction had been, though he hadn’t verbalized it to her at that time.  He had mentally compared the woman to his own father, who had suffered terrible losses three times in his life.  Meg’s mother came up short.  She had been weak and selfish.  She had a small daughter to care for and had simply taken to her bed and wasted away until she died.  Except for the arrival of her devoted Aunt Beatrice, his wife might have ended up in an orphanage or in the streets.

     Well, he’d be damned if history would repeat itself in his house.  Adam’s anger was rarely aroused.  He could count on one hand the times he had been truly angry with Meg, but right now he was furious.  He sat silently for a minute, then got up, picked up the chamber pot, and walked out the door.

     Five minutes later he was back with his children, who were now busily devouring the fried fish.  They had foregone the use of utensils and were picking at the food with their fingers.  Though he now understood what was going on, this scene further aggravated him.  Seeing his children squatting around a frying pan and eating with their hands like some street urchins infuriated him. 

     “Are you finished?” he asked them quietly.

     “Uh huh.”  Three of them nodded as they licked their fingers.

     “I’m still hungry.  Pa, can you cook us something?  Can you make bread?  Can you cook meat?”   

     Annie asked the question and he reached down and stroked her curly hair.

     “No, I’m not going to make you anything.  You’re going to Grandpa’s and spend the night.  Hop Sing will make you something nice.  I’ll come for you tomorrow.”

     He looked around and began delegating jobs. “Beth, you go and get some clothes for you and Annie.  Be sure to bring your nightgowns and clean things for tomorrow.  By the way, when was the last time any of you had a bath?”

     There were sheepish looks and shrugs all around.

     “Well, we washed our hands before we ate and we washed our faces and brushed our teeth every morning,” Beth said, somewhat defensively.  “At least some of us did,” she added giving Jesse a pointed stare.

     “Well, Adam and me went swimmin’ twice, so I guess that counts,” he replied indignantly.

     “It’s alright.  I’m sure you did the best you could,” their father assured them.  “Now go do what I told you.  And Jesse, you go take care of Sport and then hitch up a horse to the big buggy.”  The boy was off like a shot, while his sister started off for the house.

     “Annie, you go and get me a piece of paper and a pen and put everything nicely on the dining room table, okay?”  She nodded enthusiastically and scampered off.

     He put his arm on young Adam’s shoulder.  They walked together to the porch steps and sat down.

     “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what happened.  Why didn’t you go to Grandpa’s for help?  Or Uncle Joe’s? 

     The boy’s eyes misted and he stammered his answer. “I…I thought I was doing the right thing, Pa.  I didn’t want to worry anybody.  Grandpa has those Mexican men over and right after you left Uncle Joe broke his leg bad.  So Aunt Carrie was busy taking care of him.  And we really did have enough to eat…just we couldn’t cook it till Jesse thought about the fish.  Don’t blame him for that Pa.  It was his idea, but I’m the oldest and I said it was alright.”

     Adam ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled reassuringly. “Hey.  I’m not angry with you or anyone else.  I think you did a fine job of taking care of things.  Didn’t you know that the Mexicans left three days ago?”

     “No, I thought they were staying till you got back.  But even if I knew, I probably wouldn’t have gone to Grandpa’s.  He’s been so busy cause Uncle Joe got laid up,” the youngster added, wanting to be completely honest.

     His father nodded. “Well, what about work?  Aren’t you supposed to be helping the hands moving the smaller herds?”

     “I did!  I went every single day.  Joe and me helped them all last week.  Then when I got home I made sure the barn chores were done.  Jesse was real good, Pa.  He worked hard around here so I didn’t have that much to do when I got back.  And Beth milked the cows and she even made butter.  It didn’t come out so good, but she tried real hard and it didn’t matter anyhow ‘cause we ran out of bread a couple of days ago.  And even Annie helped.  She fed the chickens and collected all the eggs.”

     This pathetic little scenario made Adam wince. “Didn’t anyone stop by?”

     “Beth said Reverend and Mrs. Lundstrum came by one day, but she told ’em Ma was taking a nap, so they didn’t stay.  And Aunt Carrie came by one day but Beth told her the same thing.”

     Adam sighed.  So his children had been left to fend for themselves for almost ten days.  To their credit, they had done a good job, but that wasn’t the point.  They still needed adult supervision.  And what were they thinking and feeling?  Meg had always been a doting mother.  Now they were watching her wither away, apparently unconcerned for their well being.  Their young lives had been turned topsy-turvy with the death of their baby sister.  What they needed more than anything was some semblance of normalcy and both their parents had failed to provide that.

     Adam allotted a portion of the blame to himself.  Though he had told his father that his desire to go to Denver was to give his wife a little time alone to heal, if he was going to be honest, he took the trip as much for himself as for her.  He was physically exhausted from picking up some of the slack due to Hoss’ absence.  He was drained from the emotional toll of the baby’s death, the funeral, and dealing with the grief of his wife and children.  Sometimes it seemed as if his marriage was crumbling in front of him.   In his eyes, he and Meg should have drawn closer together after the tragedy, comforting and supporting each other.   Though their marriage had had its ups and downs, its share of low moments, they had always been able to bolster each other when necessary.  He had tried to be there for her in this time of need, but had been frustrated because she seemed to shut him out completely.  And she certainly wasn’t able or willing to deal with his needs this time.  He had hoped a little time and distance would improve the situation, but obviously it had not.  Adam faced the grim prospect that he might not have lost just his child, but his marriage and the sweet way of life he and Meg had created as well.

     The trip had been a waste of precious time.  Oh, the winning bid had gone to the Ponderosa, but that was the only positive outcome he could see.  If Joe had gone, he wouldn’t have ended up with a broken leg.  With all three of his boys unavailable, Adam could only imagine how busy Ben must have been, even after his company departed.  And being home might have forced Adam to deal with Meg’s depression sooner.

     He wasn’t aware of how loudly he had sighed as these thoughts raced through his mind till his son said, “I’m sorry, Pa.  I thought I was doing the right thing.  You always say our private business is private so I didn’t think you’d want me tellin’ everyone about the cold food and all.”

     Adam placed his arm around the boy’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring hug. “Now you listen to me.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  You did what you thought I’d want you to do.  I don’t want you worrying about it.”

     “Well…next time maybe I should tell Grandpa at least, huh?”

     “There’s not going to be a ‘next time’, son.  I can promise you that.” Adam stood and the boy stood with him. “Now you go pack some clothes for you and your brother.  He should have that buggy hitched up in a couple of minutes.  I’m going to write a note to your grandfather.” 

     Annie stationed herself at her father’s knee as he wrote a brief letter to Ben asking him to care for the children overnight.  He tried to keep the tone light, explaining that he and Meg needed a few hours alone.  No sense in adding to the worries of his overworked father.  He felt a tug on his sleeve.

     “Whatcha writing, Pa?”

     Adam smiled down at her. “A note to Grandpa, asking him to keep you all overnight, sweetie.”

     “Can you tell him I want meat?”

     He gently stroked her hair. “Sure,” he answered her softly, sadness and anger competing in his heart at her request.   His little daughter having to ask for a decent meal!  It was outrageous.

     They looked at each other for a minute.

     “Well, do it, Pa!”

     He had to chuckle.  She was still the same feisty, outspoken little girl she always was.  He jotted down a few more sentences. “There!”

     “Where does it say meat?” she demanded.

     He pointed out the word. “See?  M…e…a…t.”  He spelled it for her.  “The m makes this sound…mmmm. And these two letters, the e and the a make this sound…eeeee.  And the last letter, t, makes this sound…tuh.  So you put them all together and you have what?”

     “Mmm…eeee…tuh,” she said as he pointed to the letters again.  “Meat!  I can read meat, Pa!”  She laughed in delight and he laughed along with her.

     “You sure can.”  He kissed the top of her head.  “You’re as smart as you are pretty.  Now, do you think you can hang on to this note and give it to Grandpa when you get to his house?”

     “’Course I can!” she said, taking it and placing it carefully in the pocket of her pinafore.

     Beth and Adam entered the room holding a small carpetbag between them.

     “We’re all packed, Pa.  I don’t think we forgot anything,” the boy said.

     “Good.  Let’s go.”

     As they were walking out the door, Beth gave the bag to her brother and hung back a bit.

     “Forget something?” her father asked.

     She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m glad you’re back, Pa.  Now everything will be all right again,” she said, hugging him tightly.

     Adam squatted down and hugged her back.  He said nothing, but he worried about this absolute trust she had that he could make everything ‘all right’.  He wasn’t really sure what he was going to do.  Perhaps nothing would ever be ‘all right’ again.  Much as he believed in being honest with his children, something prevented him from telling her this.  Perhaps it was because she had been through so much already.  Let her be happy for a few hours.

     “Let’s go,” was all he said, taking her hand and walking her to the waiting buggy.  He watched as Adam drove them away in the direction of Ben’s.  As he turned to go into the house, he saw the still smoldering fire and dirty frying pan from the children’s impromptu meal. The glowing embers rekindled his anger.  He made sure the fire was safely extinguished, picked up the pan, and strode into the house.

     His first stop was the kitchen.  After lighting a fire in the stove he filled two large pots with water and set them on it to heat.  He scrubbed the dirty frying pan.  In the cellar he retrieved a couple of large potatoes, then rooted around in the cupboards till he found Meg’s grater.  He peeled the potatoes and shredded them to make hash browns, scraping his knuckles in the process.  This did nothing to improve his mood.  He found some rather grainy looking butter in the pantry, no doubt the results of Beth’s efforts, along with two large bowls filled with eggs.  Tossing some butter into the frying pan, he dumped in the potatoes.  He found an empty bowl and cracked an egg into it.  The air was immediately fouled with a pungent sulfur smell.  The egg was rotten.  Adam swore to himself.  Meg rarely put her eggs in the icebox because she used them up so quickly, so Annie had just continued to collect them daily and put them in bowls in the pantry.  No telling how many of them had gone bad in the summer heat. 

     He washed out the bowl and took it and the eggs outside.  He cracked open another one.  It was bad.  He threw it on the ground.  He repeated this a dozen more times till he had six good eggs cracked in the bowl.  Back in the kitchen, he vented some of his frustration by beating the eggs into a frothy mess.  He gave the potatoes a stir and marched toward the bedroom.

     Adam pulled open the drapes and opened every window in the room.  Taking his wife by the upper arm, he yanked her out of bed. “Get up.”

     This movement yielded him an unexpected reward.  Meg looked startled.  For the first time in a few months, the blank expression in her eyes was gone. 

     Thank God!  Someplace, deep inside, you’re still there, my love.  How do I reach you?  What do I do?  What do I say?  How can I convince you that this is not the right way to mourn, to feel grief and anger over what’s happened?   I’ve lived with those feelings myself for the past two months.  In spite of that you can’t give up.  You can’t throw yourself into the grave with Daisy.  We all still need you.  We all still love you.  How can I make you realize that?

     Meg swooned against him.  He knew she’d be weak from lack of nourishment, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her to the kitchen, seating her none too gently at the table.  Adam took some grim pleasure in the fact that his actions had replaced the empty expression in her eyes with…with…what?  Anger?  Wariness?  Some combination of those or something altogether different?

     “Do you want coffee or tea?”

     Her shrug was barely perceptible.

     “Coffee then,” he said, answering his own question, and proceeded to make some.  He turned the potatoes and dropped more butter into a second frying pan.  When it had melted, he poured in the eggs, let them set a bit, then stirred gently.  He placed silverware on the table in front of her and another set across from her place.  Grabbing a couple of plates, he dished up the hastily thrown together meal. 

     “Eat this,” he ordered, placing the plate before her and seating himself on the other side of the table.  She didn’t move.

     “Meg, pick up that fork and eat or I’ll force the food down your throat.”

     Emotion flickered briefly in her eyes and she picked up the fork.  She stabbed a piece of egg and put it in her mouth.  Some potato followed, then more eggs.  When Adam was satisfied with her response, he began to clear his own plate. 

     Ah!  You didn’t like that, did you, my love?  Well, I’ve never spoken to you like that before.  The only person who likes this less than you is me.  But I’ll do what it takes, Meg.  Whatever it takes to bring you back to where we were before Dasiy…No, I suppose we can never be exactly at that place again.  But we can regain much of what was lost.  We have four other children to consider.  I can’t believe you don’t care about them.  You’re just somewhat lost yourself right now.  But I’ll bring you back.  You have to come back.

     Adam finished before she did and spent the extra time cleaning up the kitchen.  Meg ate in stony silence.  He lifted the heavy pots of hot water off the stove and carried them to the small back room that housed their tub.  By the time he returned she had finished the meal.

     “Done?  Good!” he said, pulling out her chair and marching her to the bathroom. “The tub’s full.  I think the water’s hot enough.  Now get out of that gown and take a bath.”  He began to walk out, then paused and turned.  She stood there motionless.  He glared at her and took a step towards her.

     “I mean it, Meg.”  His voice was low, but dangerous.  Her hand went to the buttons at the throat of the nightgown.

     He returned to the bedroom and stripped the sheets off the bed.  The place already looked and smelled a hundred times better than when he had entered it earlier.  For some reason, these domestic activities made him feel better.  He gathered clean clothes for her, but found her sitting motionless in the tub, a sullen expression on her face.

     “If you don’t pick up that sponge and start to wash, I’ll do it for you,” he warned and tossed the clean clothes on a chair.  “And wash your hair while you’re at it,” he added as he left.

     Some time later she walked into the bedroom where Adam was remaking the bed with clean linens.  She was fully dressed and a towel was wrapped around her head.  Adam pointed to the chair at her little dressing table.

     “Sit down.” 

     She complied.

     He stood behind her and tugged at the turban. Her damp hair cascaded to her waist.  He began to rub it vigorously with the towel.

     “Ow!  You’re hurting me!”

     She speaks!  I can see our progress is to be measured in small steps.

     “I’d like to take a belt to you.”

     He reached over her shoulder and picked up her comb.  With more tenderness than before, he began to draw it through her curls. 

     “Why are you doing this to me?”

     “Doing what?  Dragging you back into the land of the living?  Forcing you to observe basic rules of hygiene?  Trying to prevent you from staving yourself to death?  Which one, hmm?”

     She didn’t answer him, so he simply continued to comb through her long hair.  He gazed at her reflection in the mirror.  Her eyes were closed.

     What are you thinking, Meg?  Your expression is peaceful.  Are you allowing yourself to enjoy this?  Have the demons who’ve captured you released their grip a little?

     It took him some minutes to comb through her tangles. Finally, satisfied that he had done the best he could, he put down the comb.

     “Let’s go.”

     She opened her eyes and looked at him in surprise. “Go?  Go where?’

    “You’ll see.”

     “I can’t go out.  My hair’s still wet.”

     “It’s warm out.  It’ll dry soon enough.  Come on.”

     He put out his hand to help her, but she stood on her own.  The food had done its job and she was no longer faint.

     “Well?” she asked.

     “Outside.  Bring a pair of scissors.”

     She followed him out the back door, stopping to get a pair of shears.  He walked ahead of her to her garden.  Meg loved to garden.  She raised all their vegetables with plenty left over to share with her sisters-in-law.  Their fall days were spent canning, drying and storing the bounty for the cold months ahead.  And she adored flowers.  All during the spring and summer, the sunny plot was filled with colorful blooms.  There were vases all over the house and she dried many of her best to brighten up the rooms in the winter.

     She surveyed what had been her pride and joy.  Weeds had run amok.  Vegetables were rotting on the vines.  Some plants had already gone to seed, earlier than they should have if they had been properly attended.

     “I’ve neglected my garden,” was all she said.

     “Among other things,” Adam responded.  “Can you find enough flowers for four bouquets?  They don’t have to be very large.”

     “I guess so.”  She walked among the plants and began to clip a few here and there.

     Not good.  You haven’t even asked what we’re going to do with these flowers.  What can I do to shake you out of this lethargy?

     “When you’re finished, meet me at the barn.”

     She nodded and continued to cut more flowers.

     “Are these enough?” she asked, joining him as he finished hitching a horse to their small carriage.

     “That’s fine.  Now get in,” he said, holding out his hand to assist her.  She didn’t argue…simply gave him her free hand and allowed him to assist her into the carriage.  She was silent for the first ten minutes or so of their drive, until she realized where they were going.

     “Adam, I don’t want to go there.”

     No response.

     “Adam, please.  I don’t want to go there.”

     He continued to drive on in silence.

     “No, Adam…please.”

     Ah!  Emotion rising to the surface.  Panic?  Fear?  It doesn’t matter.  She’s reacting.  Progress?  Am I even sure of what I’m doing?  Will I make things worse?  Impossible.  Nothing is worse than the way she’s been since the baby died.

     He continued to ignore her increasingly strident protests and drove up to the small family cemetery.  There were four graves here.  The oldest belonged to Marie, Joe’s mother.  The rest were much more recent.  Hoss had had the body of little Eddie, Rebecca’s son from her first disastrous marriage, moved here soon after their wedding.  He had been astonished by her gratitude.

     “Gosh, hon, it ain’t much to do,” he said, as she kissed and hugged him when he suggested this to her.

     “Oh no!  You are wrong!  It means so much to me…so much!  You can never know.  You are so good to me, Hoss.  I love you so much!”  And she proceeded to express her gratitude in a way that was totally satisfying to the both of them.

     The third grave contained the remains of the child of Carrie’s second miscarriage.  The first had occurred very early in the pregnancy, but the second happened much later and having a service and a formal burial helped the young couple through their grief.  The child had never been named.  The small white cross simply said, “Baby daughter of Joseph and Caroline Cartwright.”

     Daisy’s grave was the fourth.  The grass had already grown in, but there was no headstone yet.  Adam had postponed ordering one, wanting Meg to have a say in the selection. 

     He stopped the carriage and looked at his wife, who had grown silent again.  A plethora of feelings showed in her face.  She was angry, sad, and frightened.  But mostly he saw that she was resigned.  He got out and helped her down.

     The little cemetery was carefully and lovingly tended.  A low fence surrounded the area, the grass was neatly clipped, the three headstones in good repair.  They placed a small bouquet at each one.  He took her hand and they stood in front of the spot where their child had been laid to rest.  Meg bent down and placed the last bouquet on top of the still mounded earth.  She picked at some non-existent weeds, then stood up.

     “Is this what you wanted Adam?” she asked.  “Did you think that I was somehow denying that our baby is dead?  That by bringing me here, I’d admit what you thought was too hard for me to say?  Well, I know she’s dead, Adam…DEAD!…not some sanitized euphemism like ‘passed away’ or ‘passed on’  or ‘gone to her eternal rest’.  She’s dead, Adam…d..e..a..d…DEAD!  Is that why you brought me here?  Because if it is we can leave now.”  Her voice had increased in volume and pitch, until she was shouting at him.      

     M…e…a…t   Meat.  I can read meat, Pa!  D…e…a…d…Dead!  The baby’s DEAD!  Oh God, this is lunacy.  What am I thinking?  I’m in no better shape than she is. What the hell am I doing?

     “I don’t know why I brought you here.”

     This quiet admission stopped her ranting.  They stared silently at each other.  With some sort of terrifying premonition, Adam knew that this was a pivotal moment.  This was the point at which he would get her back or perhaps lose her forever.  “I don’t know why I brought you here.  But it’s not why you think.  I know only too well that you know that Daisy died.”  He looked down, rubbed his hands up and down his thighs.

     “It’s been a devastating experience for you…for all of us.  I know we’ll never be the same.  And if it was just you and me,” his hand sawed between them, “then I could probably leave things the way they are.  I’d hate it, but I’d leave you alone, if that’s what you really wanted.  But we have four children to consider.  They need us…they need you, Meg.  You’re their mother.  You’ve always been devoted to them…doting, caring, loving.  They’ve already suffered the loss of their sister.  I can’t let them lose their mother, too.  I needed to try whatever I could to force you out of this…this state that you’re in.  You can mourn the baby, but you can’t abdicate your responsibility to Adam, Jesse, Beth, and Annie.  What can I do to make you see just how much those children need their mother…now, more than ever before?”

     He waited to see if his words would have any effect on her.  He wished he could have put those thoughts more eloquently, but he had spoken quickly and from the heart.  How would she react?

     Meg looked down at her little girl’s grave, then at her husband. “They deserve a better mother than the one they have.”

     Of all the things she might have said, this was the most unexpected and the most puzzling.

     “What do you mean?  You’re a wonderful mother,” he protested.

     “No, I’m not.  What kind of mother would allow her baby to die?”  The words were spoken quietly, in a frighteningly calm voice.

     “That’s ridiculous, Meg.  You’re not responsible for the baby’s death.  She had the measles.  She was sick.”

     “You weren’t there, Adam.  You don’t know what happened.”   She still spoke dispassionately.

    “Well, why don’t you tell me.”  Talk, Precious, please, please talk!

     She sighed deeply, gathering her thoughts. “The night that Annie had her seizure was probably the most frightening of my life.  You saw how sick she was…how hot.  The fever seemed to be consuming her.  I was terrified.  I watched helplessly as she grew more and more ill.  And then she began to convulse.  I can’t begin to tell you how…there are no words…”  She shook her head in frustration, but Adam said nothing.

     “Anyway, when the seizure was over, I sat and watched her.  I never let my eyes move from her.  I wanted to notice any change, however slight, in her condition.  I held her little hand, stroked it, spoke quietly to her.  And gradually I did see a change.  Her breathing eased and her skin wasn’t so flushed.  That’s when I came and woke you up.”

     He nodded in remembrance, but still said nothing.  Meg’s face beginning to reflect the pain of what she was about to tell him.  She grew agitated, then took a calming breath.

     “You wanted me to go to bed, but there was still Daisy to consider.  She was never as sick as Annie.  In fact, her case was quite mild in comparison…more like the other children.  So I moved Annie over a bit and sat on the bed with her.”  Here Meg suddenly sank to the ground.  She smoothed the grass over the baby’s grave, almost as if smoothing a blanket over her body.  Adam quietly sat beside her.

     “I was tired…so tired.”  She stared into the distance, frowned, and shook her head.  “NO!  No excuses…no excuses.”  She was talking to herself now.  “If I had watched her the way I watched Annie, then…”  Her eyes filled with tears, but she stopped running her hands across the grass and finally looked at her husband.

     “I fell asleep, Adam.  I fell asleep next to Annie.  When I woke up, Annie was still sleeping peacefully.  Then I checked Daisy.  At first she just looked like she was sleeping, but then I noticed she was so still…unnaturally still.  I picked her up…tried to wake her…to rouse her…but…nothing.  That’s when I called out for you.”  By this time, tears were streaming down her face. 

     Adam still said nothing.  He wanted her to say it…to verbalize the terrible secret that had held her captive these past few months.  Once she had done that, he could expose it for what it was…a lie that grief had forced her to feed herself…a misconception on her part.  But she had to say it first.

     “Don’t you understand?  If I had stayed awake…if I had watched her like I watched Annie…she’d be alive today.  I’m responsible, Adam.  I fell asleep!  I fell asleep!  And I let my baby die.  She died all alone and I slept!”  And she collapsed on Daisy’s little grave, weeping hysterically.

     His instinct was to gather her up, to hold her, comfort her, and reassure her.  But he didn’t.  Something held him back. 

     Let it all out, my love.  Let all those vile feelings that have been poisoning you for months escape.  You know, I’ve never seen you cry over the baby, Meg.  Oh, you may have, sometime in private, but you’ve remained so stoic in front of everyone.  I knew that wasn’t natural…should have suspected something was seriously wrong right away.  But I was dealing with my own grief at the time. Forgive me for letting you suffer this long.

     “I should have stayed awake…watched her…held her,” she continued to sob.  “My poor baby died all alone.  How could I allow that to happen?”

     Finally Adam did reach over and pull her into his arms.    She continued to cry, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.  He waited patiently till her weeping lessened somewhat.

     “All this time you’ve believed you could have saved Daisy if you had only stayed awake?  My poor girl!  There wasn’t a thing you could have done.  I spoke to Doc Martin about this.  Annie was so much sicker.  Why did she survive and not Daisy?  Do you want to know what he told me?”   

     “What difference would it make?” she mumbled into his shirt.

     “Maybe no difference, if you’re bound and determined to blame yourself for something that you couldn’t have prevented.  But listen anyway.  Paul said that there was probably something wrong with the baby’s heart.  It wasn’t anything that you’d notice when she was healthy, but it was probably there all the same.  He mentioned something about underdeveloped valves or even a small hole in the heart.  Anyway, he believes that some symptoms might have shown up eventually.  And even though she didn’t seem as sick as Annie, somehow her illness might have caused a problem with her heart.  So you could have watched her every second, and not been able to prevent her death.”

     “How can he know that, Adam?  He’s just guessing.  He was just saying anything to make you feel better, like you’re doing with me.”

     Adam grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Now listen to me!  Paul’s a good doctor.  He’s had a lot of experience.  He says he’s seen this before.  If he says this is what probably happened, then I believe him.  You don’t want to believe him because it’s too convenient for you to continue to blame yourself.”  He shook her again, his frustration showing on his face.  “What’s happened to your common sense, Meg?  Can you look me in the eye and tell me with a straight face that staying up and watching Daisy would have helped?”  He let her go, removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair.  “Damn it, what can I say to make you understand that you’re not responsible?  Probably nothing!  You’ve been determined to be guilty of this non-existent crime ever since you had words with Carrie the day before the funeral.  I should have stepped in then and put a stop to all this.”

     Adam’s voice was rising and he had his wife’s attention.  She could count on one hand the number of times he had sworn in front of her and he had never treated her roughly…never laid a hand on her except one that was loving.   

     “I know you were upset and exhausted, that you spoke without thinking.  You wanted to blame somebody…strike out at someone or something.  Carrie was an easy target.  But I know you, Meg.  You were probably appalled by what you said when you had a chance to think about it.  You were hurting and furious.  Who could you blame?  The safest person would be yourself.”

     He let his hands slide down her arms and took her hands in his.  His tone was milder, but still intense. “Listen.  What you’ve been doing these past weeks is punishing yourself.  There’s no need to do that.  You weren’t to blame.  No one was.  But the way you chose to punish yourself punished the kids as well.  That has to stop.  You’ve got to think of them.  They’ve suffered too, and now they’re frightened because they have no idea what’s happening to their mother.”

     He reached out and stroked her cheek.  He looked into her eyes.  Behind the tears that glistened there he saw a spark of some emotion that he couldn’t name.       

     Meg, have I reached you?  Was it mentioning the other four children that did it?  Think about them, sweetheart.  They need you back.  And I need you back.

     “The children are frightened?”

     “Yes.”

     “Because of me?”

     “Because of the way you’ve been behaving.  And they’re frightened for you too.  They’ve just lost their sister.  They need their mother.”

     Meg swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.  She sighed deeply. “I know what you’re saying is true.  I know it.  I do.”  She sighed again and then, once more running her hand over the young grass that covered the little mound, added quietly, “I want my baby back.” 

     His heart broke at her poignant little statement. “I know, sweetheart.  I know.  I do too.”

     She turned suddenly, facing him and spoke with incredible vehemence, her mood changing dramatically.  “Why did this happen to us?  Why us?  We’re good people, Adam.  You’re a wonderful husband and father, a good neighbor and friend.  We try to do what’s right, live decent lives, and raise the children to be the same way.  There are so many evil, rotten people out there.  Why did this happen to us?”  She got to her knees, hands resting on her thighs.  Her face was contorted with emotion.  “I’m so angry.  I’m angry at God, at fate, angry at…at…I don’t know…whoever or whatever is responsible.”

     Oh, my love, I’m so glad you’re finally saying it.  It needs to be said.  You can’t keep all that bottled up inside.  The anger is just as real as the grief, Meg.  You need to express it.  There are so many people who want to listen…to help us get through this.  Please unload a little of that burden.

     “I know how you feel.  I’m angry too.  Angry and sad.  But, I try to remember how lucky we’ve been.  How many of our friends have buried more than one child, or a spouse?  I know it sounds trite, but this is a part of life.  We’ve been lucky so far.  Far luckier than many people we know.”

     “And it comforts you to think of that?”

     He shook his head slowly and paused before answering. “No.  Not really.  But I think it puts things in perspective.  There’s nothing I can tell myself that eases the pain.  I hope time will do that eventually.  I hoped we could help each other.”

     While he was speaking, a veil lifted from Meg’s eyes.  The effects of her actions on her beloved husband came into sharp focus.  What had she been thinking?  How could she have neglected him?  He was in as much pain as she was. 

     And, unbidden, other thoughts filled her mind.  She recalled the births of Beth and Annie.  Both times Adam had asked her if she wanted to name the child after her mother, Jane Prescott and both time she had said no.  Adam hadn’t argued when she said she’d rather name their first daughter after his mother.  Elizabeth was a lovely name and Ben would be so pleased by the choice.  If he insisted, she could be called Elizabeth Jane.  But when Annie was born he pressed the issue.  She finally confessed that she still harbored resentment against her mother for her behavior after the deaths of her father and brother.   She had simply given up on life, taken to her bed and wasted away.  Meg didn’t want to name any of their daughters after her.  No, the new baby would be named Anne Prescott Cartwright, and that was that. 

     Well, hadn’t she been guilty of exactly the same behavior as her mother?  Why hadn’t she seen it?  How could she have forsaken her duties as a wife and mother?  How could she have left her husband to attend to everything, when Daisy’s death had affected him as much as it had affected her?  Dear Lord, she couldn’t…wouldn’t allow herself to go down that same path.  Adam was right.  Her children needed her…and maybe…just maybe…he needed her.  She reached out her hand and touched his cheek.

     “My poor Adam.  I’ve been so selfish.  Daisy was your daughter too and I’ve left you to bear all this alone.   I promised to love you for better or worse and when the worst came I all but deserted you.”

     She leaned over and combed through his hair with her fingers.  Her touch was gentle and loving.  He reveled in it.  It had been so long since they’d had any affectionate contact with each other.  “You’re so strong Adam…so self-assured.  You always seem to know what to do.  I forgot that maybe sometimes you need to someone to lean on too.”  She let her hand slide down his face and cupped his cheek. “I didn’t mean to abandon you.”  She shook her head.  “I didn’t mean to abandon the children.  I was just so…so…I don’t even think I can put it into words.  But I’m sorry…very, very sorry.  I won’t do to all of you what my mother did to me.  That’s just how I’ve been behaving, isn’t it?”  She didn’t wait for his reply.  “Well,” she said with some heartening bit of determination in her voice, “I won’t let that happen.  I know how it affected me.  Our children won’t have to go through that, I promise you.”

     He grasped her hand and slid it to his lips, placing a tender kiss in her palm. “You don’t have to apologize, Meg.  I know how hard all this has been on you.”

     “Of course it’s been hard on me, but that’s no excuse.  It’s been hard on everyone.   Harder on you because I…I retreated into a shell or something and dumped the responsibility for everything and everyone on you.  That’s not what marriage should be.  At least our marriage has never been like that.”

     Adam held her hand between his own.  He stroked her fingers, ran his nail over her wedding ring. “No, our marriage has never been like that, but these were some extraordinary circumstances.  I don’t want to dwell on what’s happened.  Oh, I’m not talking about the baby.  We need to talk about her and mourn her, and celebrate the fact that we had her with us as long as we did.  We need to help the other children with what they’re feeling.  But I hope we can put the past couple of months behind us and try to regain something of the life we had before all of this.”

     She nodded as he spoke, then leaned forward and embraced him.  He pulled her closer and they knelt there for a while, just hugging silently.  Words would have been superfluous.

     Welcome back, Meg.  Welcome back, my love.

     Eventually he stood and pulled her up. “Let’s go home.”

     “What about the children?” she asked, brushing the grass off her dress.

     “Leave them with my father.  We’ll get them tomorrow.”

     They spent the rest of the day together, and he noted with some satisfaction that she threw herself into her neglected housework.  While he worked outside, she baked bread, cookies, and a couple of pies.  She changed linens, piled up dirty clothes to be taken to the Chinese man who did their laundry, dusted and swept the house.  Her workbasket was full of mending that she decided to attend to later.  Every once in a while she’d seek out Adam, place her arms around him, and just hold on.  He held her tenderly, silently, and then she’d be on her way again, keeping busy with all the tasks that needed to be done.  He helped her in the garden, and together they restored some order to it.  When she asked about the burned spot in the yard, he explained about the children’s attempts to cook dinner.  Her face fell.

     “Look,” he said to her, draping his arm around her shoulder, “you’re going to learn about the things they did while you were…indisposed.  You can’t let it upset you every time.  They may misread your unhappiness about it as disapproval.  They did the best they could.  By the way, have you cracked open any eggs?”

     “Yes, I needed a few to make the cookies.”

      “And?”

     “And what?”

     “Well I’d say you got lucky.  If I were you I’d throw the rest out and start fresh.  They left them all out and more than a few were bad.  I discovered that earlier when I was making you lunch.”

     She chuckled.  He grinned back at her.  It was such a simple thing, but so delightfully normal, this conversation.  When was the last time he had heard her laugh?  It seemed like eons ago.  He placed his hand around her neck, bent down, and kissed her sweetly on the lips.  They rubbed noses.

     “This sorta reminds me of when we were first married.  You know, just the two of us together,” he said. 

     What wonderful days those were!  We’ve always worked well together, you and me, Meg.  And sometimes in the afternoon I’d grab your hand and we’d run back to the house and make love for a while…just because we could…just because we wanted to.  But I won’t ask that of you yet.  You’ve come so far today.  Tremendously far.  And I don’t want a ‘dutiful’ wife.  No.  I’ve been very lucky in that respect.  Now I can wait until you’re ready to come to me.  I want what we had before.  It’ll take time, but I can wait.

     “It is sort of like that, isn’t it?” she smiled at him.  She hugged him again, holding on for just a minute and absorbing some of his strength into her body.

     “Well, I’ve got to go throw out those eggs and gather the new ones.  I thought for tomorrow I’d make chicken for dinner but you’ll have to…”

     She still couldn’t bring herself to slaughter the birds.  Her sons generally took care of that for her.  To her amazement, even tender-hearted Beth wasn’t as distressed over killing a chicken as she was.  It was the difference of being raised on a ranch or being raised in the city, as Adam had pointed out to her numerous times.

     “I’ll take care of it,” he assured her.  “How many?”

     “Two.”

     “When you’re in the kitchen you’d better check on what’s been passing for butter,” he called to her as she headed for the house.

     “I’ve already seen it,” she called back.  “It’s taken care of.”

     That night they collapsed into bed, exhausted.  They slept, wrapped together, despite the warmth of the evening.  It was a deep, healing sleep, devoid of sex, full of loving commitment to each other.  In the morning, after breakfast, Meg asked Adam to hitch up the small buggy for her while he rode Sport to get the children.

     “Don’t you want to come with me?” he asked in surprise. 

     “I have an errand to run.  You pick them up.  I’ll meet you back here.”

     “What errand?  Maybe I can do it for you,” he said, concerned about her doing too much, too soon.  For all the progress of yesterday, she was still emotionally fragile.

     “No, I have to do this myself.  I need to go see Carrie.”

     He shook his head. “That can wait.  You don’t have to do that right now.  She’ll understand.”

     “No.  I have to go now.  It’s been too long.  I can’t have these hard feelings between us.”

     “I don’t think she has any hard feelings.  She knows what you were going through.”

     “Maybe.  But I still have to go.  And I want to do it now.  Will you hitch up for me?’

     He nodded reluctantly.  She was beginning to dig her heels in and years of experience had taught him not to fight her when she got this way. 

     “Oh for pity sake, Joe.  You’ll just have to wait for it.  I only have two hands and the baby needs to go down for his nap,” Carrie called to her husband, who had asked for the third time for a little more coffee.  “Honestly,” she muttered to herself. “Men are such babies.  You’re easier to take care of than your Pa, you know that?” she added, speaking to little Daniel as she carried him off to his bed.  The baby answered her with a broad yawn.  She put him down and covered him, watching a moment as his big eyes closed and he drifted off.  She stroked the hair off his face and was bending to kiss his forehead when there was a knock at the door.

     “Now who on earth can that be?”

     “Hey Carrie, there’s someone at the door,” Joe called out to her.

      “I know, I know,” she answered, rushing off and pulling the door open with some force in her haste.  For once in her life, Caroline Cartwright was struck speechless.

     “Hello, Carrie.  May I come in?”

     Carrie quickly regained the use of her vocal chords. “Meg!” 

     She rushed at her sister-in-law and best friend, nearly knocking her over in her enthusiasm to welcome her.  Then, true to form, Carrie burst into tears as she tried to hug Meg and drag her into the house simultaneously.  They embraced for a long time, rocking together, and laughing and crying at the same time.

     Both started to speak at once…stopped to let the other one talk…then started to speak at the same time again.  This silly little scenario caused them to burst into fits of laughter.

     “Hey Carrie!  Who’s at the door?”  Joe called out from the bedroom.

     “It’s Meg, Joe.  I think your coffee will have to wait!”

     An hour later Carrie and Meg walked to the door, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists.   Adam had been right.  Despite Meg’s harsh, even cruel words, Carrie had born no hard feelings. 

     “Before you go…oh, I know you’re anxious to get back to the children…but before you go, I have something for you,” Carrie said, disengaging herself and going over to the lovely sideboard in her dining room.  She opened one of the drawers and took out an item carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

     “I don’t know if I should give this to you now or not.  But I’m not sure when would be the right time to do it.  I hope you like it,” she finished and handed the bumpy item over to Meg.

     Meg carefully removed the tissue paper.  It had been wrapped around a clay bust of a lovely little girl.

     “Daisy,” she whispered.  The tears that had been holed up inside for the past months

seemed ever ready to flow now.  She removed an already damp handkerchief from her pocket and mopped her streaming eyes.

     “It’s beautiful, Carrie.  It looks just exactly like her.  Her eyes, her cheeks, the tilt of her nose...everything is just right.  How can I ever thank you?”

     “Well, you can give it right back to me, that’s how,” Carrie told her startled friend.  “I’m going to have it cast in bronze.  I know some people in San Francisco who can do it.  That’s just the clay model.  I plan to work on it some more and then you’ll have something permanent,” Carrie answered, relieved at the good reception her work had received. 

     “I don’t deserve a friend like you,” Meg remarked handing back the little bust.

     “That’s true!  You deserve someone much better.  I should have insisted on seeing you.  This nonsense has gone on way too long.  But then Joe broke his leg and you know what taking care of a sick man is like,” she said in a way that managed to be both dramatic and comical at the same time.  “Well now, don’t dawdle around here.  You get home and take care of those four hooligans.  I’m sure you’ll be busy, but don’t be too busy to stop by from time to time.”

     “I’ll be by.  And thanks again for everything,” Meg said, hugging Carrie once more before going home. 

     “That was a great dinner, Ma,” young Adam complimented her as the little family sat around the fire that night.  The evening had turned cold and Adam had built a fire, not only for warmth, but also for the cozy atmosphere it provided. 

     “Yeah, chicken, and it ain’t even Sunday!” Jesse chirped up.

     “Isn’t not ain’t, his parents corrected him together.  They looked up at each other and laughed.  Adam sat in his leather armchair, the same one Meg had bought for him just before they were married.  Years of use had made it more comfortable than ever.  His eldest son sat at his feet, the new book he was reading ready to be opened.  Jesse was on the hearth, whittling a piece of pine and carefully tossing the scrapings into the fire.  And the girls sat on the sofa on either side of their mother, Beth with her knitting and Annie with the little patchwork quilt she was working on for her doll.  The domestic scene was ordinary and familiar.  Most nights they sat this way for an hour or so before the children went to bed.  Yet Adam realized that the very commonplace nature of this gathering was what made it spectacularly special, at least to him.  He had feared he might never experience it again.

     “Mama, I think there’s a problem with my knitting, but I don’t know what it is.  It’s starting to look crooked,” Beth said handing her work to her mother. 

     “Hmm, let’s see.”  Meg’s experienced eyes searched the little scarf for a problem.  “Here is it, sweetie.  You dropped a stitch here and another one here.  Go fetch me a crochet hook and I’ll show you how to pick them up.”

     While her older daughter was off to find the necessary implement, Annie, normally a fidgety child, sat quietly next to her mother, sewing diligently and with great concentration.  She was about as close to Meg as she could get without being in her lap, Adam noticed.  Suddenly she dropped the quilt square and said, “Guess what Mama?  I can spell meat!  I can read it too.”

     “You can?” Meg looked down at her in surprise.

     “Uh huh!”  The curly head bobbed up and down excitedly.  “Listen.  M…e…a…t…meat!  Isn’t that good?”

     “That’s wonderful!  When did you learn that?” Meg asked putting her arm around the child and giving her a hug.

     “Pa showed me yesterday…before we went to Grandpa’s.  Will you teach me more words?”

     “Of course I will.  We can start tomorrow if you like.”

     Adam waited.  At this point one could usually expect a sarcastic remark from Jesse, the teaser in the family.  He might disparage his little sister’s accomplishment or maybe comment that no one could make him do any type of spelling lesson in the summer.  But the boy was silent.  Adam wasn’t very surprised.  Jesse was on his best behavior.  All the children were.  They had been attentive to Meg from the moment of their happy reunion.  All afternoon they had been solicitous of her, running and fetching for her, slaves to her every wish.  The mother they knew and loved had returned after a frightening absence.  They were doing everything possible to make sure she didn’t leave them again.  Did Meg notice?  She must have.  Their little brood could be very rowdy on occasion. 

     Beth returned and sat close to Meg, who showed her how to correct her mistake.

     “Maybe you and I can make some butter tomorrow.  What do you say?”

     The little girl blushed. “I tried, Mama.  I guess I didn’t so such a good job, but…”

     “Nonsense!  You did a wonderful job for your first try.  You should have seen what my first batch of butter looked like.  Yours was much better.  And I was already a grown up when I started.”

     “Really?” Beth asked, finding it hard to believe that her very competent mother had ever been less than successful at anything she undertook.

     “Really!  I was a city girl and I knew just about nothing when it came to living on a ranch.  It was very hard for me at first.  You Pa was very patient.”  She smiled ruefully at her husband.

     “Don’t give up, Beth.  Your mother didn’t,” Adam interjected.  “When she wants to do something she puts her whole heart into it and keeps trying till she does it well.  You can do that too.”  He stretched his arms out in front of him and wiggled his fingers.  “Now what about a little music, hmm?  Feel like playing Meg?”

     “I’m a little busy here, Adam,” she answered nodding to the daughter glued to each side of her.  “Why don’t you play alone this once?  Jesse, get Pa his guitar.”

     After tuning the instrument, Adam asked for requests.  They sang just about everything they could think of.  Beth and young Adam could harmonize so the little group made some very pretty music together.  They sang Greensleeves, Barbara Allen, Scarborough Fair, and The Old Oaken Bucket.  Jesse requested Blow the Man Down, and Adam asked for Tramp, Tramp, Tramp the Boys Are Marching.  Adam played Annie Laurie for his littlest child and English Country Gardens for Beth.

     “That’s enough for tonight,” Meg said at last.  “It’s well past bedtime.  Off you go and Pa and I will be in to hear your prayers and say goodnight in a few minutes.”

     As the four headed for their bedrooms, young Adam looked back and asked, “Ma, will you sing All Through the Night while we get ready?  Please?”

     This was a favorite lullaby of Meg’s.  She had sung it innumerable times to her children, individually or as a group, and frequently the last thing they heard before they drifted off to sleep was their mother singing or humming this sweet and soothing tune.

     “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered softly to her husband.

     “We’ll sing it together.  Just try, sweetheart.”

     She nodded and he played a brief introduction.  Their voices blended beautifully as they began the familiar old song.

     Sleep my child and peace attend thee

     All through the night

    Guardian angels God will send thee

     All through the night

    Soft the drowsy hours are creeping

     Hill and vale in slumber sleeping

    I my loving vigil keeping

     All through the night.

     Her voice broke on the last line, thoughts of Daisy rushing into her head.  She hadn’t kept vigil enough over that child.  Even though she now believed she couldn’t have prevented what happened, it would take time to lose all the feelings of guilt that had built up inside her.   She choked up and couldn’t go on, but Adam continued to sing.

     Love, to thee, my thoughts are turning

     All through the night

     All for thee my heart is yearning

     All through the night

     Though sad fate our lives may sever

     Parting will not last forever

     There’s a hope that leaves me never

     All through the night

    She wiped away her tears, got up, and sat on the arm of Adam’s chair.  He carefully laid down the guitar and wrapped his arm around her waist.

     “You believe some day we’ll see her again?”

     “I believe that someday, in a way we can’t possibly understand, we’ll be reunited.  And I should think that you’d believe that too.  Didn’t you tell me you once met my mother?”

     She sniffled and wiped her eyes, then rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes.  I forgot about that.”  She was silent for a minute. “It gives me some comfort to think that perhaps you mother is taking care of Daisy.  You know…she didn’t get to take care of you but now she can look after our baby.  It seems fitting, somehow.  And it comforts me.”

     “Then think it.”

      “But that’s not the same thing as believing in ghosts?”

     He shrugged.  “I don’t think so, but I’m not up for a religious or philosophical discussion right now.”  He hugged her tightly. “You’ve been wonderful today, Meg.  We’re both tired.  I think we should tuck in the kids and then tuck in ourselves.  We have plenty of time to talk about all this.  What do you say?”

     She slid off the arm of the chair and, taking his hands, pulled him up. “You’re right.  It’s time for this family to be in bed."

     So together they heard their children’s prayers, and, arms around each other, they went to bed.  

                                                      FULL CIRCLE

     “Adam?”

     “Hmm?” 

     He and Meg were seated at the table after supper one evening in late August.  They were enjoying another cup of coffee and he was quietly perusing the newspaper that he’d bought in town earlier in the day.

     “Adam, I need two hundred dollars.”

     The coffee cup stopped half way between the saucer and his lips.  The paper came down and one eyebrow went up.

     “Two hundred dollars?”

     She was biting her lower lip nervously, but nodded. “Yes.  That’s what I said.  Two hundred dollars.” 

     He put the cup down. “What for?”

     She straightened her back as she always did when she was feeling a bit defensive. “Clothes.”

     “Clothes?”

     “Yes, clothes.”

     “You suddenly need two hundred dollars worth of clothes?”

     “Well, they’re not all for me.”

     “Oh?”

     She began to speak rapidly. “No, of course not.  When have I ever asked you for such a huge sum for clothes?”

     This was true.  The most money he could ever recall her requesting was fifteen dollars.  She was frugal to a fault and he gladly turned over the household bookkeeping to her because of that, and because she was clever with numbers.  Adam had no complaints to make about a spend-thrift wife.

     “The clothes are for all the children and for me,” she continued, still talking unusually rapidly.  “Most of the clothes they have now are suitable for here but certainly not suitable for Boston.  And you know I usually make their clothes, but you suggested this trip so suddenly that I don’t have time to do it all myself.  So I’m going to need to have both dressmakers and Mr. Weston make the new garments.  And that’s why it’s costing so much money.  Because they really need the new clothes.  I mean it’s essential that they’re dressed appropriately.”

     Adam held his hand up, palm facing her. “Will you stop and take a breath,” he said.

     “May I have the money?”

     He sat back, crossed one leg over the other and crossed his arms. 

     Oh great! she thought. Now he’s adopting his judge’s pose.  ‘Prove it to me.  Show me the evidence.’  I hate it when he gets like this!

     “You’re telling me that none of the clothes they have now are suitable for this trip to Boston?”

     “No, Adam, I’m not saying that.  The girls’ best dresses are fine, and the boys’ Sunday suits are passable, but they really need some new outfits.  And they all need new shoes.  I mean, you honestly can’t expect them to visit Boston looking like they do when they’re running around this ranch?”

     “So if they already have some suitable clothes, why do they need more?” he asked, ignoring the last part of her remark.

     “Adam, we’ll be in Boston for three weeks.  They can’t wear the same clothes for three straight weeks.  And I want them to have what’s fashionable in the city.  The boys need two new suits each, the girls each need a couple of new dresses, they need new shoes, hats, gloves, and…and…I need two new gowns.  If I could do all of it myself I would and that would save a considerable amount.  But there’s just no time.  I mean, we’re leaving in a few weeks.”

     “Don’t you think it’s a waste of money to buy clothes they probably won’t be using when we get back here?  I mean, at the rate they grow, these clothes’ll be too small for them before they can wear them more than a few times.”

     She didn’t answer right away.  Finally she said, “The younger ones usually end up wearing the older ones’ hand me downs, so they’ll be used more than you say.  And you know that Rebecca and Carrie and I swap children’s clothes all the time.”

     Adam uncrossed his legs and picked up his coffee cup.  After taking a sip he said, “Well, I suppose it’s alright.  I wouldn’t want you to be ashamed of our kids in Boston.  I wouldn’t want people to think they were uneducated hicks who grew up on a ranch in the wild west, had no manners, and didn’t know how to dress.”

     She sighed. “Oh dear!  Now you’re angry.  I didn’t mean it like it sounded.  Of course our children have manners and are educated.  But the clothes…well, we dress them differently for school and for play and for church.  This is the same thing.  You know.  The appropriate clothes for the appropriate occasion.”

     She got up and stood next to him. “Adam, do you think I ask you for too much?  Is that why you’re being difficult about this?”

     He looked at here through narrowed eyes.  She knew damned well he didn’t think she was demanding.  Yet she stood there, the picture of innocence, with what appeared to be genuine concern written all over her face.  He started to laugh.

     “Wasn’t it Hoss who said one time you should be an actress?  Well he was right.  That’s quite a little performance you just put on, dear heart!  All right.  You can have the money,” was all he said, picking up the paper again, still chuckling.

      She bit her lip again and wrinkled her nose. “Well, there’s one more little thing.”

     The paper dropped enough for him to look at her over its top pages. “What?”

     “You need a new suit.”

     “No.”

      “Yes.  Yes, you do.  You badly need a new suit and a suit of formal evening clothes.”

     “No.”

      “Adam!”

     “No. My clothes are fine.”

     “Please…please do it for me…a new suit and a suit of evening clothes.  Surely we’ll go to the theater or a concert while we’re there.  What will you wear then?”

     “I’ll do what I always do.  I’ll borrow them from Jack.  He and I are the same size.”

     Her eyes widened and she shook her head in disbelief. “You’re not serious!  You haven’t seen Jack Devine in fifteen years!  You can’t possibly be sure that you’re still the same size.  And what will people think if you’re borrowing clothes?”

     “Jack’ll think how smart I am not to spend a good deal of money on something I almost never use.”

     Meg stood up in a huff. “You’re infuriating!  Well, have it your own way.  At least the children and I will look well dressed.”

     She left the room, leaving her husband under the mistaken impression that he had won the last part of this ‘discussion’.  In fact, the two hundred dollar figure she had quoted him included a new suit of clothes for her husband and they had already been ordered from Mr. Weston, the town’s tailor.   She would bring the children to town tomorrow to be measured for their new outfits.  Meg tackled the dishes well pleased with herself.  She was still concerned about the evening clothes, but she’d deal with that at another time.

     Three days later, Adam rode into the yard early, planning to have the midday meal with his family.  He found Jesse in the barn, cleaning stalls in a most half-hearted manner.  The boy hated this job and usually got it done as quickly as possible, but today he was dragging the pitchfork around and kicking at piles of hay and waste in a desultory manner.

     “What’s up, Jess?” his father asked, and when the boy looked up Adam saw tears in his eyes. “Jesse, what’s the matter?” he asked as he led Sport to his stall.

      “Pa, I don’t want to go to Boston.”

     “Why not?  I thought you were excited about it.  You love ships.  We’ll be able to see a lot of them there.  Maybe even go onboard one.  Wouldn’t you like that?”

     “Yeah, I’d like that.”

     Adam put his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder.  Jesse wasn’t usually a child who cried.  He was tough and feisty, with a temper like his Uncle Joe.  His anger burned quick and hot, but dissipated almost as quickly as it came.

     “Then what’s the problem?  Why don’t you want to go?”

     The little boy hung his head, the picture of abject dejection. “Mama said that the new suits she ordered me have short pants.  She says I gotta wear short pants, Pa!  Adam don’t gotta do it ‘cause he’s older.  Mama told Mr. Weston to make me these two stupid suits and I gotta wear them ‘cause that’s what the boys in Boston wear.  Well, I don’t wanna go now.  I don’t wanna wear short pants like some baby or Boston sissy.”

     “Short pants, huh?”  Adam asked.

     The boy nodded miserably. “And you oughta see the hats Adam and I gotta wear, Pa.  They look like cow pats with a brim!  And they got ribbons hanging down the back…ribbons!”  He seemed to sense that he had his father’s sympathy and paused for dramatic effect.  “But at least I don’t gotta wash my face with buttermilk,” he mumbled.

     “What?”  Adam stared at him incredulously.

     “Yeah, Mama washes the girls’ faces and hands with buttermilk.  She says we’re out in the sun so much that the girls look as brown as Indians.  So they hafta wear their sunbonnets all the time and she washes them with buttermilk ‘cause she says it’ll make their skin lighter,” the boy informed his dumbfounded father.

      Adam sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.  This trip to Boston, which he had thought an excellent idea at the time he proposed it, was rapidly turning into a nightmare.  Ben was unhappy with the timing.  Hoss had just returned from Germany, and Joe was still on the mend with his broken leg when Adam told him that he wanted to take his family east for the fall.

     “Five weeks!” Ben shouted.  Who’s supposed to run this ranch?  Joe won’t be good for much for another couple of weeks and Hoss just got back.  Now you want to take off for five weeks!  You know how busy fall is around here!”

     Adam, as he so often did when he and Ben disagreed, counted slowly to ten.  He let his father rant for a while.  When Ben seemed to stop for a breath, Adam jumped in.

     “Look, I know it’s not the best time.  But I want Meg to be back there when the leaves turn.  Fall was her favorite season.  She’s been through a lot this year and the trip will do her good.  I’m sorry that it’s five weeks, but when you think it’ll take a week each way for travel, that’ll leave barely three weeks to visit and sightsee.  I’ll do what I can before I leave and Hoss is ready and willing to do what he can so we can go.  By the time we get back, Joe will be doing his fair share again.  I need to do this for Meg, Pa.”

     That argument won the day, as Adam knew it would.  Ben had a soft spot for each of his daughters-in-law, and he was especially solicitous of Meg right now.  She was trying bravely to accept the death of their baby and move on.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “Alright.  Alright.”

     “Thanks, Pa,” Adam said, smiling in relief.   But that was only the first hurdle.  Although his wife had been thrilled with his idea, she was unsure about taking the children out of school for such an extended period of time.

     “Listen,” he argued, “we’ll take their books and slates and have them do lessons out and back.  It’ll keep them busy so they don’t get too restless.  And the trip itself will be an education.”

     Because she so badly wanted to go, she was easily convinced.  She threw herself into planning with enormous enthusiasm.  But this, too, created problems. 

     Adam thought their children were well behaved.  He wouldn’t have had it any other way.  They had nice manners, were polite and thoughtful.  He and Meg had worked hard to raise them this way.  But they were still children.  They had slip ups, made mistakes, had their share of tantrums and arguments.  Still, they were better behaved than most of their contemporaries, in their father’s opinion.  Suddenly Meg was drilling them in etiquette as if they had been raised by savages.  She had a “proper” way to do just about everything.  Mealtimes were especially torturous.  One evening, after Beth had burst into tears at the supper table because she was sure she had used the wrong utensil, Adam took his wife aside for a little talk.                   

     “This has got to stop.”

     “What has to stop?”

      “You’re upsetting the kids with all this etiquette business.  Their manners aren’t that bad.”

      “I just want to make sure they make a favorable impression,” was her huffy reply.

     “Oh?  Well maybe you think my manners need a little polishing, too.”  He crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen table.  “We country bumpkins from out here in the sticks wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of all those city folk,” he said, his voice quiet but laced with sarcasm.

     “Is that what you think?  That I’m ashamed of my family because we’re from the west?” she demanded, hands on hips.

     “It’s beginning to look that way.  You’re turning what was supposed to be an exciting and entertaining family trip into something that the rest of us are beginning to dread.  I know it’s not what you intended, but the kids are beginning to view Boston as some exotic, foreign, and scary place where people behave in strange and incomprehensible ways.  You’re making them feel like outsiders before we’ve even left Nevada.  So I’m just asking you to be a little less frantic about their manners.  They’ll do us proud…you’ll see.”

      She walked into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “I’ll ease off with the kids.  I didn’t realize…” She sighed deeply.  “When we have disagreements like this I feel like an outsider…you know…sort of alone.  I hate that feeling.”

     “Well, when we disagree I feel alone too,” he said, surprising her.

     “You do?”

     He hugged her tightly. “Mmm hmm.  So let’s not disagree and then we’ll both feel better.  What do you say?” he asked, smiling down at her.

     She stood on tip-toe and kissed him. “We are in complete agreement,” she replied with a smile of her own.

      And, true to her word, the etiquette lessons became very infrequent.

     But now there was this clothing situation.

     “Jesse, saddle up Diablo.  You’re going to ride into town and tell Enoch Weston that those suits will have long pants.”

     “Wow!  Really, Pa?  But Mama said…”

     “I’ll take care of your mother.  You just tell Mr. Weston that your Pa said no males in our house are wearing short pants.  And no ribbons on the hats.  I’ll be in town tomorrow to confirm everything.    You just saddle up and get going.”

     “But Pa, Adam told me I was never to ride…never even go near Diablo.  He said he’d…”

     “Jesse, I’m giving you permission to ride his horse.  Now get him saddled.”

     “Thanks, Pa!”  And the boy almost fell over his own feet as he gathered Diablo’s tack.  Adam watched to make sure things were done properly and was not disappointed. 

     Just before mounting, his son turned to him. “You want to check anything, Pa?”

     “Nope.  It looks like you did a fine job.”  He ruffled Jesse’s hair.  “Now get out of here.”

     The boy hesitated a second. “Pa, do you need anything from town?  Should I get you the newspaper or anything?”

     Adam was pleased at this unusual thoughtfulness.  He reached into his pocket, pulled out a nickel, and handed it to his son. “Here you go.  Bring me today’s paper.  And thanks for thinking about that.”

     Jesse mounted his brother’s horse. “The paper’s a penny, right Pa?  So I’ll bring you four cents change.”

     Adam grabbed the little horse’s bridle before the boy could ride off.

     “Seems your arithmetic is pretty good.  Why not spend the four cents on candy?  Buy a penny’s worth each for yourself and your brother and sisters.  You know what kinds they like, don’t you?”  

     Jesse’s eyes opened wide.

     “You mean I get to spend the whole four cents on candy?”

     “That’s what I mean.  Just make sure you bring back things that everyone likes.”

     “Oh I will, Pa.”

     Adam kept hold of the bridle. “And one more thing, Jess.  When we get back from Boston, why don’t you and I start to look for a horse of your own?  I think you’re old enough to handle that, don’t you?”

    Jesse was so overcome with joy that words failed him.  All he could do was nod enthusiastically.  His expression made Adam laugh out loud.  He let go of the bridle and gave the horse’s rump a slap.

     “You’d better get going.”  And as the boy raced off he yelled, “Be careful!  Don’t fall off.”  But Jesse’s head was so full of images of long pants, candy, and a horse of his own that he never heard the warning.    

    The day before they were to leave, Ben stopped by the house.  The family had finished dinner and Meg hurried to get her father-in-law a cup of coffee.  He smiled his appreciation as she set the cup in front of him, then stood behind her husband, hands on his shoulders.

     “I have some good news.  At least I think it’s good news.  You know my old friend Charlie Crocker?”

     “You mean the president of the Union Pacific?” Adam asked, putting his cup down.

     “Yes, that’s who I mean.  Well, we got together last week.  The Ponderosa’s got a new contract with the railroad for some bridge trusses.  Anyway, I told him about your little jaunt and he offered you the use of his private car from San Francisco to Boston.  He thinks you’re crazy to be hauling four kids across the country, so he thought a private car might make things a little easier.  I didn’t say anything before this because he had to set things up.”

     Meg’s eyes lit up like lamps and she clapped her hands together in glee. “A private car!  Oh!  That will make things easier.  What a wonderful thing for him to do!  You must give me his address so I can write and thank him.”

     Ben held up his hand. “Wait, there’s more.  He’s sending his man Swanson along to lend a hand.”

     “His ‘man’?” Adam asked, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

     “His personal servant.  I’ve met him.  He’s British…what they call a gentleman’s gentleman.”

     “Like a butler?” Meg asked, intrigued.

     “Well, I suppose so.  We’ve never been much on ‘servants’.  Hop Sing is more like one of the family.  But Charlie’s wealthy and there are all kinds of servants in his household.  Swanson will be there to smooth the way for you…take care of what needs taking care of.  Then you can just enjoy the ride.”

     “When you see him, Pa, tell him how much we appreciate this.  We’ll write a formal thank you, but you be sure to let him know just how much this means to us.”

     “I will, son.  Of course you’re on your own till San Francisco,” Ben chuckled. 

     The planning that Meg and Adam had done prior to the trip paid off.  A combination of excitement over seeing and experiencing new things, plus a rather regimented daily routine, kept the four youngsters from being bored or too restless on the trip east.  They quickly adjusted to the rhythm of the train’s motion and could move about the car with ease.  They were too young to appreciate the beauty of its expensive appointments…polished walnut paneling, rich velvet upholstery, heavy brocade curtains, and shiny brass fixtures.  But they were intrigued by the small sink, complete with cold water faucet, located at one end of the car.  Here they could wash up or get a drink whenever they wanted.  The other end of the car was divided into two small sleeping quarters.  Meg and Adam shared one, the girls the other, and the boys slept on the sofas in the sitting room section.

     “Just like camping out!” Jesse said, excitedly.

     “Hardly anything at all like camping out,” his father contradicted. “That sofa is probably softer than your regular bed at home.”   

     The rhythmic motion of the train rocked the children to sleep at night, and, with no chores to do, their parents allowed them to sleep late in the mornings.  Then there was breakfast, school lessons to be done, lunch, more lessons, and some free time.  Of course, there were always fascinating things to see out the windows as the train seemed to fly toward its next destination.  At every stop, Adam took his children off the train to use up some of their pent-up energy.  On a few occasions they all left the train as their special car was uncoupled and then joined with another train from a different line.  As they traveled farther and farther east, the buildings changed from wood to stone to brick and grew increasingly tall.  

     “Does Boston have that many buildings, Pa?” Annie asked as they left St. Louis.   

     “It has many more than that, sweetie.  Boston is an old city and it was settled many years ago.  Your mother and I haven’t been back in more than fifteen years, so it’s probably even more built up than we remember,” he answered her, chuckling at her look of wide eyed disbelief.

     Swanson was a treasure, Meg decided.  He knew when to be there to help and when to make himself scarce.  He had meals prepared and served on time.  Any difficulties that cropped up seemed to melt away when he was notified.  The children adored him and he kept them amused for hours with tales of his adventures working for various people.  He had traveled extensively and described in vivid detail the many wondrous things he had seen.

     “Pa, he calls Jesse and Adam ‘Master’.  Does that mean he’s a slave?  I thought there weren’t any more slaves,” Annie asked Adam soon after the children had been introduced to the ‘gentleman’s gentleman’.

     “No, he’s not a slave.  You’re right.  There isn’t any more slavery in this country.  He calls them that because that’s the form of address he’s used to using with Mr. Crocker’s family.  He calls you and Beth ‘Miss” and your brothers ‘Master’.  It’s just a polite way of talking to you…you know, like when you address grownups as Mister or Missus.  It’s like that.  Understand?”

     She nodded. “Pa, can we keep him?”

     Her father laughed and pulled gently on her pigtail. “No, Bright Eyes.  We can’t ‘keep’ him.  He works for Mr. Crocker and he’s just along to help make the trip easier for your mother and me.”

     Even Adam had to admit that Swanson made the long journey much more pleasant.  One day the children were particularly antsy.  A pouring rain had made it impossible for them to get off the train and get some exercise at the last stop.  They were traveling over the prairies of the Midwest and there was little to see.  Swanson disappeared for a few minutes, then returned and discreetly cleared his throat.  Adam looked up.

     “Mr. Cartwright, the engineer was wondering if you and Master Adam and Master Jesse might like to walk up front and see how the engine works.”

     With a shout the boys jumped up from their seats and their eyes flew anxiously to their father.

     “This man’s a godsend,” Adam thought.

     “I think that’s a fine idea, Swanson,” he said, rising from the comfortable chair where he had been reading. 

     “Adam, do you think it’s safe?” Meg asked, her face wearing a worried expression.

     “I’ll watch out for them.  Don’t worry.  Let’s go, boys.”

     Before they could leave, he felt a tug on his coat.  He looked down into Annie’s crestfallen face.