Til Death Do Us Part

by MissjudyK

This story has four sections and follows Adam as he begins a new life in Boston. He is engaged, working as an engineer and singing in a prestigious choir. Wedding plans move quickly when Ben sends news that he will be stopping for a visit. Nothing goes easy for the Cartwrights and this is no different. Adam and Ben still make a great team as they face new trials

1. Chapter 1

'Til Death Do Us Part

Part I

Relatively Speaking

One

It's the City Life for Me

Adam plunged a dirty plate into the pan of hot, sudsy dishwater as he practiced a difficult line from Mozart's Requiem Mass in D Minor. His voice broke on a higher note, causing him to stop and mutter to himself before breathing more deeply—this time from his diaphragm—and began again. "Mors slo-pe-bit et na-to-ra. Cum re-sur-get cre-a-tu-ra. Ju-di-can-ti res-pon-su-ra."

As he sang and scrubbed, he glanced at the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall. He knew what day it was, but hadn't considered the actual date until it saw it there in black and white. It had been six months since he'd arrived in Boston, and two years to the date since he'd fallen from the roof of the house he'd been building as a surprise wedding gift for Laura. His voice silenced again as he mulled over all that had happened in those 24 months.

The fall had paralyzed him. A wry smile crossed his face as he recalled that his decision to marry Laura had been a symptom of the paralysis that had shown up long before the fall. It wasn't just his legs that had stopped working at the time. The paralysis in his life had kept him from standing up and walking to the life that had been calling him. He'd convinced himself that he needed marriage and a family. What he hadn't considered until it was nearly too late, was that he was marrying the wrong woman.

During his convalescence, he'd wheeled his chair to the barn, and had overheard a conversation between his cousin, Will, and Laura, where she had spoken of her great love…for Will. The seeming betrayal hadn't upset him in the least, and it should have allowed his graceful exit from a situation he no longer wanted to continue. But even though he'd told her to go with Will and be happy, Laura had said she'd needed to stay with him because Will wouldn't take her from Adam while he remained an invalid. His cousin seemed to think he could repay the betrayal by leaving Laura behind to continue as his nursemaid. That had made him angry as well as frustrated. He hadn't wanted Will's "gift" or her "martyrdom," and he had willed himself to stand and walk so that they could leave together, unencumbered by guilt.

He breathed a sigh of relief just as he had then, and smiled at how far that simple act of standing had taken him. Rising from the wheelchair had begun a rising in his spirit. There had still been months of restlessness before he'd left home, but that had prepared him to go when the time was right. News of his grandfather's stroke had given him the final impetus to leave for Boston, and he had gone with his father's blessing.

To his relief, Abel's health had improved by the time of his arrival, and his advances since then had been dramatic and rapid. The older man was getting around fine, and except for an occasional hesitation in the flow of his words, he had regained his ability to speak. Abel's full recovery had allowed Adam to find a full life for himself. He'd taken a job with Wadsworth Engineering and Development, a company owned by Frank Wadsworth, the father of his college roommate. He'd spent time at the Wadsworth house with Frankie back in his student days, and the family had accepted him into their fold. Frankie lived in San Francisco now and ran the Wadsworth business there, but Frank Sr. had welcomed Adam into the Boston firm with open arms and an excellent salary.

Shortly after he started working at the firm, another engineer had heard Adam singing in his office, and suggested that he audition for the Boston Symphonic Choir. The downside to being accepted into such a renowned group was the commitment to the many evenings of practice. Adam had worried about leaving Abel alone so often if he was accepted, but his grandfather had encouraged him to take advantage of every opportunity.

Adam had been warned that the audition was difficult, with the likely outcome being a severe critique of his skills, and the recommendation that he audition for one of the "lesser choirs" in Boston. After two hours of singing scales, and sight-reading pieces of increasing difficulty, he'd been congratulated on his perfect pitch, broad vocal range, familiarity with the work of several composers, and finally, welcomed into the group. The choirmaster had asked him where he had taken lessons and which choirs he'd sung in. Adam hadn't had much to offer, and had told him that he had taken vocal training after he'd been accepted into his college choir. Luckily, singing with a choir of that renown had been enough to impress the director. Adam decided that there was no need to tell of his private performances singing to the cattle he'd watched over at night, or while riding through the canyons of the Ponderosa.

Singing again with a group of trained voices was a wonderful experience, and he looked forward to rehearsals. He had only been with the group a few weeks when the artist doing the tenor solo in the mass had become ill and had to drop out. There were other tenors in the group, but none of them could learn the part on such short notice. The director had been ready to cancel the performance when he'd recalled that Adam's had noted doing the tenor solo in college on his resume and had even performed a bit of it at his audition. He'd approached his newest member, and had pressed Adam to do the part so the concert could go forward.

The thought of the performance in three weeks still filled Adam with trepidation. His fear was not about performing alone, handling the Latin words or remembering the challenging music—it was about singing tenor. He had been much younger when he'd performed this the last time, and his voice had matured since then. His range still allowed him to sing the part and he was doing fine, except for two of the higher runs when his voice sometimes cracked. This was a vocal workout he wasn't used to, but he'd arranged for private lessons and practiced whenever he could, while convincing himself that all would be well. When his voice still failed at times, he wondered if he hadn't made a very bad decision.

"You must breathe deeply, Mr. Cartwright," Adam admonished himself as he rolled the "r" in "breathe" and "Cartwright," just as his vocal coach did. He laughed as he rinsed the plate he was holding, and grabbed another dirty one as he took a deep breath, held it to a count of ten and exhaled slowly and evenly.

Adam continued his breathing exercises as he thought again about how good the last six months had been. There was so much nearby in Boston, both educationally and culturally, and the pace of city life appealed to him. He would say that he was working just as hard as he had on the ranch—or at least that he was putting in as many hours. It was the type of work that was different, needing more concentration and less rote. Failing to accomplish daily chores on the ranch would have led to mayhem, but he had more discretion with what had to be done here. He found that he was just as tired at the end of the day now, but in a different and satisfying way.

Of course there were dark days when he missed his family. It was a jolt to go from the constant togetherness and clamor at the Ponderosa to living quietly with his grandfather. What was hardest to deal with was the loss of immediacy. Something happened every day that he wanted to tell his father or brothers about, until he remembered that they wouldn't be waiting at the supper table. He'd found the best way to handle those moments was to scribble a note to include in the next letter home. These proved to be the painful drawbacks to living so far away from the people he loved.

In the midst of all the good things occurring in his life, there was one thing that weighed on his mind. He and his father had not discussed his "long term" plans when he'd left. He hadn't been sure at the time what he saw for the future. Helping his grandfather had been the stimulus to leave Nevada, yet he knew he would have left soon even if Abel hadn't taken ill.

There were times when he felt great guilt about not seeing his future with his family, and he knew he'd have to be completely honest with his father about this at some point. The guilt would ease as he reminded himself that he was a grown man and could choose to live as he wanted. This life suited him and he would have to do the best he could, just as his family would do the best they could in the lives that suited them. His father knew that Adam was soon to be married, but that wouldn't stop him from thinking that his son would return—bringing his new wife home with him.

The showdown with Ben Cartwright was coming sooner that he'd expected, and he was preparing an answer for when his father asked, "When are you coming home, son?"

Adam hadn't expected his reflections to take a turn toward his family. His breathing exercises ceased as he dealt with the sadness. He might not want to return to ranching, but he carried his father and brothers in his heart every day. That would never change.

Trying to move past the melancholy, he grabbed a serving dish and began to scrub it clean. He was elbow deep in suds to give his grandfather's housekeeper, Sadie McIntyre, a hand with the lunch dishes while she went to the docks to get fresh snapper from the fishermen returning from their morning runs. Adam often came home for lunch and would spend an hour with Abel before returning to work. Today was special though, and he'd stayed longer. Melinda was due to arrive home that afternoon and Sadie was going to fix his fiancée's favorite dish to welcome her back. Adam wanted to surprise the housekeeper with a clean kitchen as a way to let her know of his appreciation.

Even though the dishwater was warm, he shivered with anticipation at the thought of being married soon. It had been a long time coming and he was ready to be a husband, and hopefully a father. He and Melinda had met when he was in his sophomore year of school and he had spent a fall holiday with his grandfather. She had been visiting her aunt, Lynne, who lived next door to Abel, and she and Adam had struck up a friendship that had turned to romance and a proposal—12 years ago. But they'd decided against marriage so that he could go home to help his family while she went back to school. They'd lost touch soon after parting—each thinking the other had fallen out of love, and moved on.

He had met Melinda unexpectedly in Sacramento two years ago. After spending several hours talking, they realized that that the letters they thought had never been written had simply not reached their destinations. That knowledge had made no difference because he'd been engaged to Laura Dayton at the time. He and Melinda had gone their separate ways, even while knowing that they were still in love.

When he had made the decision to come back to Boston, Adam had entertained the hope that he and Melinda might reconnect. She had inherited the house next to Abel's and while he knew he'd see her again, he couldn't expect that things hadn't changed in her life. But as fate sometimes worked, they had been given a second chance. They'd decided that they should get to know each again and go through a period of courting to make sure that they felt the same deep connection as they had years ago. Their love was undisputed, but there was the thought that while absence might make the heart grow fonder, it might also camouflage issues they'd forgotten existed between them. That plan worked splendidly until two weeks into their courtship.

He had arranged for them to have dinner on the waterfront, and then take a moonlight walk in the park later where he planned to propose. But when he'd arrived at her house, she'd been holding a box that she'd found in the attic while looking for a shawl. She said she'd packed the box away with Lynne's things after her aunt had died without checking inside, because she thought she knew what it contained. But the string holding the top on had broken when she'd moved it to get at the shawl, and the contents had slid out, exposing the many letters they had written and sent to each other. On closer observation, they saw that Adam's letters had all been opened, while Melinda's had not.

She'd been able to construct a reasonable explanation as to how they'd gotten to Lynne's house. There had been mix-ups in the posting the letters she'd sent to Adam and those had been returned to her aunt's address. And Adam had written to the wrong school at first, and later he'd sent letters directly to Lynne's home, trying to reach Melinda there when she'd come home for breaks.

Melinda suspected that the reason Lynne hid the correspondence had come from Lynne figuring out the significance of the letters between her niece and the boy who'd lived next door, and feared that Melinda would not return if she was in love. But as she and Adam had talked about the letters, she'd recalled a strange conversation with Lynne shortly after she'd returned to live with her aunt following graduation. Lynne had "confided" that she'd received love letters from an old beau during her niece's absence that had told of his continuing love, and his desire to marry her one day. She'd also said that the letters she'd written to him had been returned unopened. Lynne had even made a reference to her lover moving west, and that his evil family must have kept him from seeing her correspondence just as they had when they were younger. Melinda hadn't given it much thought then, other than assuming it was a story brought on by her aunt's failing memory and tendency toward reading romance novels. But the most reasonable explanation that they'd been able to reconstruct was that Lynne had been living out a fantasy with the letters from Adam.

Confronted with the truth of their enduring love, and promises kept, Adam had decided to propose then and there…until Melinda had told him to stop. He thought she was going to refuse him again, and he'd decided to join a cloistered order of monks that observed a vow of silence when she'd told him that she was simply fulfilling another promise she'd made to him 12 years ago: that when the timing was right, she'd propose to him. She had…and he'd said yes.

They'd wanted to be married immediately but Melinda had several traveling obligations remaining in conjunction with the teaching program she'd developed. She had been away for several long stretches over the time he'd been back, and while the time apart had been hard, it had given him time to readjust to his new life. Melinda had now finished training another person to do her presentations, and her homecoming tonight signaled the end of the traveling. She had decided to continue working at the publishing house, but she and Adam could finally plan a small wedding and be together.

Adam smiled as he grabbed a cooking pot, shoved it into the dishwater and thought, I'm getting married! He breathed deeply and began his solo lines from the Sequentia section of the mass.

Two

Old and New Wounds,

Melinda knocked lightly at the Stoddard front door and let herself in. It was early afternoon, a time when Abel usually napped, and she didn't want to disturb him. There was a buggy at the curb, and she hoped Adam might still be there. She smiled widely when she heard him singing, and made her way to the kitchen where he stood with his back toward her, directing himself with a wet dishcloth and a large, soapy pot.

She set down her valise down quietly and removed her hat before sneaking across the room until she was directly behind him. Rising to her toes, she kissed the back of his neck and gently bit his ear.

Adam grinned, and purred, "You know that Melinda is coming home today, Mrs. McIntyre, so we'll have to be a little more discreet about our afternoon trysts."

Melinda laughed as she grabbed a damp towel from the cupboard, and quickly twirled it into a fabric whip. She cried out, "So you and Sadie have been carrying on behind my back, eh? I'll show you how I handle such duplicity," and gave the cloth a solid snap…

Adam yelped as the tip of the towel stung the tender skin behind his jawline. The pot slid from his hand, drenching the front of his shirt as it splashed into the pan of water. The back of his shirt became soaked as well when he dropped the oozing dishrag onto his shoulder while reaching for the rising welt. He turned to face Melinda…dripping and injured. His brows came dangerously close together in a scowl as he asked in mock anger, "What kind of woman inflicts injury, gets a man soaking wet, and then stands there laughing?"

She tried to look serious even while stifling a laugh, "I don't know…maybe a woman with horrible aim…and an evil sense of humor?" She leaned forward to kiss him without contacting his wet shirt. "I'm so sorry Adam. I thought it would hit much lower." Melinda was having trouble controlling her giggling. "In fact, I was trying to hit your backside, but I aimed it a little higher than I expected."

"A little higher?" he teased. "I'd say a good two feet higher." He tried to grab her, but she moved away, thwarting the attempt to transfer his dampness.

Stepping forward again, she reached to undo the top button of his shirt. "Here, let me help you get this wet thing off. I'll hang it outside to dry while you change."

Melinda had the front buttons opened and pulled the tails free as she turned him to face the sink. Sliding the soggy white shirt from his shoulders, she noticed the scar on the back of his left arm and moved her fingers across the discolored ridge. "What happened here?"

"Caught an arrow with my arm."

"Yikes! That must have hurt going in."

He chuckled as he told her, "That's where it came out. It's part of a matching set; it went in on the front of my arm.

She finished removing the shirt and placed it on the cupboard and then turned Adam toward her to see the corresponding scar. She looked closely at the white line on his inner arm and then stepped back, eyeing her future husband. She appreciated how his broad shoulders tapered to his firm chest and narrow waist. But as she looked more closely, she saw several deeply discolored scars that ranged in size from an inch or so, to two, long, irregular shaped gashes on his abdomen. She tried to control her surprise but her eyes widened as her mouth gaped. Turning away, she feigned a cough while stalling a few moments to wipe away the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. She took a handkerchief from her pocket, and dabbed at her eyes and nose until she felt she could face him without crying.

"Must be the time of year," she said as she turned and smiled without meeting his eyes. I think the doctors call it hay fever. It makes me cough and my eyes run." Melinda reached for the shirt. "I'll go hang this up now." She was shocked when Adam yanked it away from her and threw it back on the cupboard, growling, "Never mind. I'll take care of it myself."

She saw his tortured expression as he stepped around her and strode from the room. "Where are you going?" she asked as she followed him into the parlor.

He stopped to answer without looking at her. "To get dressed and head back to work. Mrs. McIntyre is planning dinner for 7. I'll be back a little before that."

Melinda caught up to him and grabbed his arm as he continued to move away. "What's wrong, Adam?"

He said nothing.

"I've obviously upset you. Please tell me why you seem so angry."

He turned his head to address her. "You can't erase something by pretending that it didn't happen, Melinda." He sighed heavily. "I suppose it's good that you realized this now instead of after we're married. You can still back out gracefully. I won't hold it against you."

"Why would I want to back out of marrying you?"

Adam didn't answer. He tried to leave again, but she grabbed at his belt and held tight. "When we agreed to marry we both promised to be honest with each another. But now I'm thinking that you meant it to be a one-way promise…that I always need to be honest with you. Let me be very clear: I expect this promise to work both ways. I've done something to hurt you. I'm not sure what it was and you need to tell me."

He shook his head and groaned. "I really do hate it when my own words come back at me. And I hate talking about feelings, but I will if you'll let go." When she released her hold, he began to speak matter-of-factly, while remaining with his back toward her, leaning forward onto the newel post of the stairs. "You were always a lovely woman, Melinda, and the years we were apart were exceptionally kind to you." He glanced back at her. "When I saw you in Sacramento, I was amazed at what a lovely woman you'd become. And your confidence and poise adds to your beauty."

He paused as she thanked him. "But I lived hard in those same years. There were Indians and gunmen, and those who tested the Cartwright mettle just to see if they could break us. I'm not the young man I was when you knew me, and the years have not been as kind to me. I'm weather-worn, broader and heavier, and took a few arrows and bullets that made some big holes and left some bad looking scars. But I refuse to be apologetic for who I am now, what's happened to me, or how I look. I'm sorry that you're repulsed by what you see."

Melinda's eyes flew open. "Repulsed? You think I'm repulsed by you?"

He finally turned to face her. "You looked stricken at the sight of me, and turned away to cry. You were obviously disgusted."

Her cheeks turned pink. "Oh. You saw that…"

"You're a good teacher, Melinda, but a horrible actress. Of course I saw it."

She reached for his face. He pulled away to deflect her touch, but she was not deterred. "It's my turn to be honest." She took a moment to compose her thoughts. "I've only been attracted to two men in my life. The first was a handsome, slightly scrawny, young engineering student. I got a proposal out of him, but the timing was all wrong."

She saw a breath of a smile cross his lips before he returned to stone. "And after ten years of looking, I decided that I wouldn't find someone who excited me in the same way that thinking of that young man did. About that time, I looked in a store window in Sacramento and was left breathless at seeing a man dressed in black, and I thought that if I could still feel that enlivened by someone that wasn't you, I might have a chance to find love after all. But that second man turned out to be you too."

Adam broke into her narrative, "And now you're disappointed that I'm not the man you imagined all those years. I understand, Melinda. Let's not draw this out any further." He turned to leave.

"No! I'm not disappointed! And don't you dare walk away. I'm just getting to my point." She moved up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed the scar on his arm. "I like everything about you, including the scars. In our years apart, I let myself imagine you having a wonderful life while never giving me a second thought. I assumed that you had married, and I coveted your wife's place in your arms, and in your be…" Melinda stopped as she blushed, while changing her thought to, "in your heart. But I found out that none of those imaginings were true. And what's worse is that I had never…ever considered that you were injured so severely…or often…that or could have died. The scars made me look at my shallowness and I was filled with shame. That's why I cried."

Moving around to face him, she touched the largest of the scars. "I don't need to know much about medicine to figure out that whatever happened here should have killed you. Her hand moved to the scar above the first. This one could have caused your death as well." Her eyelashes grew dewy with tears that she blinked away. "What I saw when I looked at you was that you must have fought with everything you had to stay alive, and you're with me now only because you kept on fighting. I'm not saying that you were thinking of me during those times, but you never gave up or let life defeat you. How can I ever love you enough to thank you for that?"

She kissed his lips. "And concerning what I think about the man you've become… well, you are a fine specimen, Adam Cartwright. Have you never noticed how women turn to watch you walk by? Sometimes I want to go and scratch their eyes out." She kissed the scar on his shoulder. "I'll take this broader, heavier…hairier man any day." She kissed the scar on his chest and moved lower to gently kiss the larger wound on his abdomen, making Adam catch his breath. She finally laid her cheek against his chest and listened to his racing heartbeat. "I am in love with every last inch of you, and can't wait to be with you forever."

Adam raised her face as he found her lips.

Her arms encircled his neck as they continued to kiss until Melinda's eyes shot open as she broke away to ask, "Is Abel upstairs?"

Bringing his lips to hers again he answered, "Playing cards at Seth's. Mrs. McIntyre's gone as well." Melinda's soft moans echoed his as the kisses deepened and they clung to one another with the need that they'd held back for so long.

She gasped with pleasure when Adam slipped his hands beneath the loose jacket of her dress and brushed her breasts through the lightweight fabric of her camisole. All inhibition retreated as her mind flooded with desire so strong that she began to explore his body; her touch making him groan as he drew her hips toward his.

Their passion was halted abruptly when they heard the squeak of the backdoor hinge, signaling the return of Mrs. McIntyre. Adam shuddered as he stepped back, still breathing heavily. He chuckled as he whispered, "Any other day she'd have been away for hours." He winked at Melinda, tugged her jacket back into place, and gave her a quick kiss before bounding up the stairs.

The housekeeper set down her packages and chattered happily to herself about the pile of clean dishes before she made her way into the parlor. "Oh Missy," she exclaimed, you're home already. Welcome back!" She moved toward Melinda, patting her on the shoulder as she continued to prate. "Is Mr. Cartwright still home? I saw his rig out front."

Melinda was still breathless from her "talk" with Adam and pointed to the stairway. "Up there… changing his shirt… got wet doing dishes."

Mrs. McIntyre took a good look at Melinda as her eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you feeling all right Miss? You seem flushed and a little glassy-eyed."

With her heart rate and breathing slowing to normal, Melinda was finally able to answer, "I'm fine, Sadie. I have hay fever is all."

Adam was wearing the black pants and shirt he'd always worn on the Ponderosa when he returned a few minutes later. He greeted Mrs. McIntyre, accepted her thanks for the help in the kitchen and let her know that he'd be back early for dinner before heading outside.

Melinda leered appreciatively at her man in black as she walked him to the street. "Where's your suit? I thought you were heading back to work."

"I have to take measurements at a site so I changed into work clothes."

She smiled wickedly, speaking softly as she kissed him goodbye. "I do like you in those duds, mister." She blushed. "About what happened a few minutes ago…."

He grinned. "I'm not sure what you mean? Did something happen?"

"Watch it, or I'll go get the towel and hurt you again." She took his arm. "I can't wait to be married, Adam. Can we elope? I think you mentioned doing just that a few times, and it might be a very good idea. We've never let ourselves get so carried away before and after what I just experienced, I don't think I can go back to holding hands, getting a good night kiss and then watching you walk to the house next door."

Adam drew her close. "I kind of liked getting carried away. It's not like we're a couple of kids anymore and we'll be married soon, so I think we're entitled to have a few moments of…."

"Exploration?" Melinda completed his thought as she blushed more deeply.

"Yes, I like that. I think our willingness to explore bodes well for our marriage." For a second he wondered why Melinda looked impatient, until he remembered her question. "I wouldn't mind eloping, but I got some news that might have an impact on our wedding plans."

She frowned. "What news?"

I received a letter from my father while you were gone. He sent it over two months ago but it arrived on the same day as his telegram."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Melinda chuckled. "What did he have to say?"

"He's in Washington D.C. and will be coming to Boston after he finishes with his business there. I'm hoping we can be married while he's here."

"That sounds wonderful." Her disappointment vanished. "I can't wait to meet your father. What's he doing in Washington?"

"He was asked to give testimony at a congressional hearing about what went on when Nevada was considering statehood."

"What would your father have to say about that?"

"There were several rumors at that time about conspiracies, and a lot of behind-the-scenes action going on in '64. Nevada's silver-laden mountains appealed to both the Union and the Confederacy."

Melinda nodded. "I remember reading about that. Was your father involved in one of those…conspiracies?"

Adam laughed. "No, but he dealt with some of it during the statehood convention for our part of the Territory. At the time my brother was head-over-heels in love with a young woman who was David Terry's daughter. Terry was an avid Southern sympathizer involved in some intrigue even before coming to Nevada. I suspected from the start that he was using my brother's affection for his daughter to sway him toward the cause of the Confederacy. But that was the least of what Terry did."

Melinda's eyes widened with interest. "What happened?"

"Pa was a delegate to the statehood convention, but Terry convinced those in charge to add a delegate from the Ponderosa, knowing full well that Joe was the only other family member home at the time. He counted on Joe's vote going against statehood to cancel out Pa's vote for inclusion in the Union. That wasn't enough for Terry though. He was working with a British agent who had promised to provide men and weapons to help Terry take over the silver mines around Virginia City should it came to that, in return for assurances that southern cotton would continue moving to the mills in England. The guns-for-cotton plot was confirmed in a letter that Hoss and I found on the agent's courier. The two of us high-tailed it to that convention and got there in time to expose the conspiracy."

"You have lived through some interesting times, my love. What happened then?"

"My father warned Terry that he'd gone too far, and the vote confirmed Nevada's statehood. Things happened pretty fast after that."

Melinda's forehead wrinkled as she thought a moment. "I don't remember hearing of anything bad happening as Nevada became a state. Were there problems that we didn't hear about back here?'"

"Nothing happened, even though militias had been formed by Southern loyalists, and there had been threats of force against the mines. In the end most of those who avidly supported the South became even more avid in Nevada state politics. I think the hearing in Washington is taking a look at the means Terry would have used to get the silver for the South. If you think about it, he did consort with a foreign power to provide aid against the United States. If the findings show this to be true, Judge Terry could find himself indicted for treason."*

Melinda frowned, "It is sad how many lives were affected by that war. I knew families that were torn apart by political disagreements and geography. A few miles and strong sentiments one way or the other made all the difference in what side you favored. I remember President Lincoln warning that a house divided against itself could not stand and he paid the ultimate price for his beliefs. I know I'm relieved that the war is over."

"Families didn't have trouble agreeing just here, Melinda. Little Joe's mother was from New Orleans. She died when he was young and I think he clung to anything that reminded him of her. He seemed to be an easy target for those hoping to garner Cartwright support for the Confederacy. I believed in the sovereignty of the Union, so Joe and I butted heads several times. I was prepared to leave once because I felt that there wasn't room in our house for both opinions."

"Did you work it out? I can't remember you ever speaking of hard feelings between you and your brothers."

"Pa held us all together with sheer will at times. But mostly there was Hoss. He made us both take a good look at what was most important. In the end, we decided that we would stay brothers instead of becoming enemies."

"Is you father involved in state politics now?"

Adam shook his head. "He's been asked to throw his hat in several times, but Ben Cartwright is a better spokesman for Nevada as a successful businessman than as a politician. He owes his allegiances to no particular party this way and can act on his conscience alone. My father is his own man, and chooses to remain that way. Yet his voice is as powerful as any politician in the state."

"I've got two questions for you now." Melinda took a deep breath and asked, "When will your father get here, and should I be afraid of him?"

He reached for her hand. "His telegram says he'll arrive next Monday, and you needn't be afraid. You're not afraid of Abel or me, and my father is no harder to get along with than the two of us. I've been told that I have as hard a head as he does and you love me." He looked up at the sun noting that the afternoon was passing quickly. "I'd better get going."

Melinda continued to hold his hand as Adam began climbing into the buggy and pulled him toward her for a last kiss. "Oh," she called out as he started away. She caught up to the buggy, saying, "I forgot to tell you that we're invited to dinner at my sister's house on Sunday. My parents will be there too."

Adam looked at Melinda and said dryly, "I think I feel a case of malaria coming on."

Her look was withering as she stood with her hands firmly anchored on her hips. "So you're saying that you'd prefer a high fever, chills and intestinal upheaval rather than visiting my family? Be careful what you wish for, dear."

"It does sound so much worse when you say it that way." His grin was mischievous. "But I've met your mother before so you can't really blame me for looking for a way out…."

A tapping foot accompanied her scowl, "I thought you were a God-fearing man, Adam Cartwright, but you seem to have forgotten the fifth Commandment."

"I do honor my father. But these are your parents, so you may honor them while extending my apologies and explaining my malady." He was still grinning as he started to drive away and heard her call "Adam!" He also heard the hurt in in her voice and realized he'd taken the teasing too far. Stopping one more time, he turned and motioned for her to come nearer. "Of course I'll go with you, Melinda. Can't think of anything I'd rather do…and I'll behave."

Three

Blast be the Ties that Bind

Melinda engaged in pleasantries with Abel for several minutes, talking about the weather and Ben Cartwright's arrival the following day until her patience and goodwill waned. When Adam remained absent even longer, she began to pace, looking up the steps each time she made it to that side of the room and asked again, "He's getting ready, isn't he?"

Abel grinned behind the Sunday newspaper he'd raised as she'd started her sentry duty. "Yes, Melinda. I've already told you that he wasn't feeling well this morning and lingered a little too long in bed. But he should be just about ready to go."

She muttered under her breath as she reached the end of the room and turned to retrace her steps. "He's doing this to see if I'll really make him come, and he even got Abel to play along with him. But if he thinks he's staying home, he's got another think coming." She was considering storming his room when she looked up and saw him standing at the top of the stairs. Breathing a sigh of relief, Melinda prodded, "Please hurry Adam, they're expecting us at eleven and I don't want to be late."

As his descent brought him nearer, she noticed that he was pale and his hand was trembling on the bannister. "Oh dear," she cried out as she ran up the steps to meet him. "You really are sick. I thought you and Abel were just having a little fun with me. You go on back to bed and I'll go alone."

Laying an arm around her shoulder, he professed, "I'm fine…or at least not as bad as I was. So let's get going before I change my mind."

The fresh air on the drive to Sunday dinner with Melinda's family made Adam hopeful that he would feel better by the time they arrived. He tried to keep the queasy feeling at bay by doing a quick recall of what he knew about his soon-to-be in-laws.

Melinda had grown up in Providence, but her parents had moved to Boston a few years before when the war took its toll on her father's exporting business. The couple now rented an apartment in town and Melinda's father worked as an accountant in a small firm. Adam knew that her parents had seen some hard times and had lost much of their fortune, but by their daughter's assessment, they were holding their own.

He had met William and Margaret Hayworth back when he'd attended college and they'd visited William's sister, Lynne. Adam and Melinda were already keeping company at the time, so he he'd spent the day with the family.

Since he'd returned to Boston, he'd only met with Melinda's father to tell him of their intention to marry. Adam liked William and considered him honorable, reasonable, and intelligent, with an easy sense of humor.

However, his initial impressions of Margaret had been less positive. Melinda's mother had wielded a sharp and unrestrained tongue twelve years ago, and he suspected that time had not dulled that edge. She had left him slack-jawed with her quickly rendered judgments years ago when they'd been together, and he feared that this outing would have some "interesting" moments as well.

Adam glanced over at Melinda as he drove. Her hands were clenched tightly on the handle of her straw handbag and her jaw was firmly set. She wasn't a chatty person, yet she was unusually quiet this morning. At the beginning of the ride, she'd told him a bit about her sister and brother-in-law, including the fact that they were childless, and suggested that it would be best to stay away from that topic. He'd asked her if there were any subjects to avoid with her mother and she'd rolled her eyes and sighed, saying, "There's no way to avoid anything when it comes to Mother. She'll take the conversation wherever she wants it and the best you can do is smile and hold on." After that she'd drifted into silence.

Melinda finally pointed to a large home with a sweeping front porch and said, "That's it." Adam pulled the horse to a stop, set the brake and came around to help her down. His fiancée usually snuck a kiss when he had his arms around her waist, but this time she seemed stiff as he lifted her. He took her hand and held it tightly on the way to the house, and as they got to the steps, he leaned over to whisper, "It will be all right, Melinda. We can handle anything together."

She gave him a weak smile as they reached the door. "Here we go," she said as she entered without knocking, placed their hats on the rack by the front door and escorted Adam into the parlor where her family awaited.

The two women in the room were in such a deep discussion that they didn't hear the couple walk in.

Melinda's father spoke loudly as he pointed at Adam and Melinda, "They're here."

The conversation ended abruptly as a young woman bearing a resemblance to Melinda, moved quickly to hug her sister. Melinda made the introductions. "Adam, this is my middle sister, Miranda, and her husband, Lloyd Samuels."

Adam gave Miranda a peck on the cheek and shook Lloyd's hand, saying. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you. Melinda has told me that I'm in for a real treat today, since Miranda is an excellent cook." Looking around, he added, "You have a beautiful home."

Miranda blushed slightly as she offered her thanks, while Lloyd boasted, "It's the biggest on the block and has the nicest view by far. It's the best or nothing for us."

Melinda took Adam over to her mother next. He bowed slightly and tried to keep his tone pleasant. "It's been a few years, Mrs. Hayworth, but you haven't changed a bit." His teeth began to grind with the first words out of the woman's mouth.

"It's not my fault that it's been such a long time, Mr. Cartwright. You've been back in Boston several months already, and while you've had time to speak to my husband and propose to my daughter, you still haven't seen fit to call on me." Her tight smile did nothing to lessen the slap of her words.

Melinda came to Adam's defense as her cheeks turned crimson. "Mother, Adam has had a lot of things to sort out since returning. His grandfather was ill; he started a new job…"

"Your mother is right," Adam asserted as he smiled at Melinda and then turned his attention to her mother again. "It was rude of me not to visit." He took Margaret's hand, kissed it and then gave her his most disarming smile. "I offer my sincerest apologies." Trying to turn the topic, he added, "May I say that your two daughters are as beautiful as their mother."

The woman's voice had the quality of fingernails on slate. "We have another daughter, Marie. She was going to be here today, but she just lost a…she isn't well. Her husband sent word that they won't be coming. She might have made it if we could have received you when you first returned."

Melinda face was set in a scowl. "I've already sent Marie a telegram, Mother, telling her how sad I am to hear the news. She sent one back saying that she can't wait to meet Adam and that they will visit as soon as she feels stronger." She sighed, and then added, "And you know it's not Adam's fault that we haven't come sooner. I've been away a lot. This is our first chance to visit together."

Margaret dismissed Melinda's comment with a wave of her hand. "You and that silly job. I'm sure Adam will want you to quit now that you're getting married."

Adam gave his fiancée's hand a squeeze as he spoke out. "I am very impressed by Melinda's work, and it is her choice to continue on with it as long as she wishes."

The woman huffed in indignation. "What have you gotten yourself into Melinda! Won't your husband make enough to support your household? A man with a decent income would want his wife making a comfortable home, not off working." Margaret ended with an imperious look at her future son-in-law.

Adam's spoke tersely through slightly-clenched teeth. "I have no doubt that Melinda will keep a gracious house whether she works or not. Furthermore, I lived with my father and two brothers, so we all learned to do household chores and I will continue to do so in my own home."

William came over to shake Adam's hand and changed the subject as his wife gave a loud harrumph. "It's good to see you again, Adam. How's your new job?"

"It's keeping me very busy and offering some interesting challenges."

Both men ignored Margaret's muttered, "Apparently 'interesting' work doesn't pay well."

Melinda's father ended the confrontation as he shepherded the men to the far side of the room to engage in "manly" topics while Miranda led the women to the kitchen for the final meal preparations.

Miranda poked her sister once they were out of earshot of the men and their mother. "Adam sure is good looking, Melvin. I just hope he takes care of himself after you're married. Lloyd used to be more handsome, but he's let himself get that pot belly and double chin. It's hard to see the man he used to be with all that extra bulk."

Her eyes shot open as she choked back her surprise at her sister's comment. "Manda!" Melinda said as she giggled. "You can't blame a man for putting on a little weight if his wife is as good a cook as you are."

"I wouldn't mind the weight if it didn't make him such a grouch, and a slug about 'other' things."

Melinda had a good idea what her sister meant, but prodded her anyway, "What 'other' things?"

Miranda looked around to make sure their mother was still rearranging the table settings in the dining room before moving closer to whisper, "You know…in the bedroom. Most nights he just rolls over and says he's tired…even when I pester him a little and let him know I'm interested." Her eyes went dreamy as she sighed. "I bet a man like your Adam won't ever roll over to go to sleep if you let him know you'd like to, ah, you know, do something together."

Melinda's cheeks grew hot as she remembered how Adam had responded to her touch a few days earlier and turned away as she busied herself placing rolls into a dish. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Her added, "but I can't wait to find out," prompted her sister to start giggling.

When Margaret entered the kitchen she stared at her daughters and asked, "What's so funny?"

"Melinda told me a joke," Miranda lied.

Margaret wanted to hear it as well and left in huff when Melinda told her, "You wouldn't understand it, Mother."

Adam realized that he wasn't as recovered as he thought he was when he walked into the dining room. He hadn't told Melinda that he'd been awake most of the night with severe stomach pain and upheaval. He'd had a crab dish at a harbor-side restaurant the day before and assumed that something in the concoction hadn't agreed with him. Now his stomach did a flip as he observed the array of food waiting on the table. Everything looked appetizing, giving testimony to the truth of what Melinda had said about her sister's ability in the kitchen. It was simply the mixture of aromas that was overpowering to his recovering digestive system.

Melinda noticed his sour look and led him back into the parlor. "Will you be able to handle this, Adam?" she asked with concern.

He nodded. "Will I offend your sister if I don't eat much?"

"I already told Miranda that you were a little under the weather." She winked at him. "Of course I waited until Mother was out of the room. I don't want her making it into an issue. Manda understands and said she'll send leftovers home with us to enjoy later when you're up to it. Do your best and don't worry. My mother's chatter and nastiness will probably be harder to digest than anything you eat."

Lloyd was decanting a deep red wine into goblets when they returned to the table. Adam became hopeful that a few sips of a dry cabernet or burgundy might help to settle his stomach. He waited for Lloyd to take his seat before raising his glass in a toast to the host and hostess, thanking them for their hospitality. His disappointment registered in a brief grimace when the syrupy-sweet table wine skimmed over his tongue. It produced a nice warming effect as it slid down the back of his throat, but the high sugar content did nothing to ease the roiling in his gut.

The various bowls of food were passed after William offered grace, and Adam took a small serving from each dish. No one seemed to take notice that his plate wasn't heaped full, and he hoped that if he could finish the food he'd taken, Miranda would be satisfied that he'd liked the meal. Conversation lagged as people ate and he was already planning his escape, deciding how he and Melinda might make a graceful exit with the promise of getting together again soon. If questions arose about the wedding, he would simply suggest that Melinda meet with her mother and sister in a day or two to talk further. His goal now was to get home and rest.

He should have known better. His final morsel of food was en-route to his mouth when the inquisition began.

Lloyd asked, "Where do you work Adam? Father mentioned earlier that you had started a new job but I don't recall him saying what it was."

"I'm an engineer at Wadsworth Development."

It was a simple question and answer, and it could have stopped there, but the exchange brought Margaret out of her post-prandial stupor. "What sort of place is that? I've never heard of it."

William told her, "It's the oldest and largest engineering group in Boston, dear. The Wadsworth family has been part of this city since its inception, and has been at the forefront of its growth. Just about every building has some connection to the Wadsworth name. A position there is not easily won. Many people wait years for a chance to work there because a job at Wadsworth insures a high salary and recognition in the engineering field."

Margaret sniffed as she looked across the table. "Then how did Adam get in there?" A gasp from her husband made her clarify. "I don't mean that he isn't good at whatever it is he does, but he just got to town. Why would they take him over someone else who's been waiting longer?"

"I'm sure Adam's credentials are topnotch or they wouldn't have hired him," William professed as he tried to end the topic and move on to another. He addressed Adam, "Melinda told me that you two had tickets to a Haydn symphony. Have you attended that already? "

Margaret was not dissuaded and barged into the conversation again. "It just doesn't seem right that he can come to town and grab a position that others have been waiting for. He can't be that good at what he does."

Adam sighed with resignation. "I have known the Wadsworth family for several years, Mrs. Hayworth. Frank Junior was my roommate when I attended Harvard, and I was often invited to the Wadsworth home. Frank Senior was aware that I'd worked on engineering projects out west and in Sacramento that are similar to several ventures that he has in the works here. He needs help with those and offered me a position.

"I'm surprised at that." Margaret looked down her nose while addressing Adam.

Adam knew he should let a sleeping dog lie. He knew it with all certainty, and yet he poked. "What surprises you about that, Mrs. Hayworth?"

"I'm surprised that such an old and prestigious family would welcome in a commoner. That just isn't done in Boston. I can see putting their son at a university to experience what the rest of the world is like, but to actually invite you to their home…well I don't understand."

Melinda gasped this time. "Mother! Adam is hardly a commoner. He graduated at the top of his class and comes from a fine old Boston family."

Margaret perked up, while asking dryly. "How interesting; what family is that?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Adam replied, "While my family does have a long history here, there is no aristocracy in my bloodline. Perhaps the finest quality about the Wadsworth family is that they welcome people into their home regardless of their background, and see the worth in a person rather than judging them on social standards. It's probably the reason they remain so successful in these changing times. I'm honored to call them my friends and to be working for Frank."

She waved her hand dismissively. "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't good enough, dear, but the finer families I know would never allow their children to associate with their 'roommates' outside of school unless they were social equals. It just isn't proper." Without batting an eye, she added, "By the way, Adam, please call me Mother rather than Mrs. Hayworth. Both my other sons-in-laws call me Mother, so you should too."

His eyes darted toward Melinda to see what she might be thinking of this turn of events. She looked back while shrugging slightly as her eyebrows lifted. They hadn't discussed this possibility. Adam called Melinda's father, William, but hadn't even thought about what he would call her mother. He began, "Perhaps we can speak privately about this, Mrs. Hayworth."

Margaret glared at him and then at Melinda. "What is there to discuss? It's a sign of respect."

Adam heard Melinda groan under her breath and hoped she would be supportive of what he was about to say. "As I said, I had hoped to have this discussion privately. I mean no disrespect to you, but I cannot call you Mother. I will call you Margaret, Mrs. Hayworth, or some other name of affection that you'd prefer, but not Mother."

The standoff continued as she stared Adam down. "You may mean no disrespect but I am certainly feeling disrespected." She looked at her daughter. "I think you need to have a discussion with your intended husband about this. I will not tolerate insolence from either of you."

Unfortunately, Adam knew he was going to have to explain his rationale before this became a brouhaha. He steeled himself and focused on Margaret. "I am loath to discuss such private issues in front of others. But since you are intent on being hurt by something that is not meant to be hurtful, I will explain. My own mother died when I was born, so I was never able to call her what you are asking me to call you. Since I couldn't honor my own mother with that appellation, I find it impossible to use it for another, no matter how deserving they might be."

Margaret slumped back in her chair, visibly deflated for an instant, but she recovered just as quickly. Sitting forward while wearing an ingratiating smile, she sniped, "Well why didn't you just say that from the beginning, dear? You may call me Margaret."

He exhaled and smiled back as he took Melinda's hand under the table, wishing he could communicate his desire to leave with some sort of hand signal. He recalled that when he and his brothers had gone to a social event that they hadn't been looking forward to attending, they'd always planned some visual sign to let the other two know that it was time to go. Drat, he thought, I should have remembered that sooner. He hoped this last go-round would end the conversation, but he felt a weight fall back on his shoulders as Margaret asked, "So have you two set a date for your wedding?"

Melinda looked around the table and said enthusiastically, "We just found out that Adam's father is in Washington. He's finished there and will arrive in Boston tomorrow to stay for two weeks. Adam and I are planning to be married while he's here."

William spoke first. "I read something in the D.C. section of the New York Times about a Ben Cartwright testifying at a hearing in Washington. I even brought the paper home from work to show everyone. Might that be your father, Adam?"

"Yes," Adam replied, "I didn't realize he was nearby until I got his telegram the day he arrived in Washington. Of course he'd written of his coming, but as Melinda and I know all too well, letters are often delayed."

"I look forward to meeting him," William spoke sincerely.

Adam had been watching Margaret's face, and knew that she was not happy. There was no further need to wonder what she was thinking as she blurted out, "What is the meaning of this? How can the two of you even consider being married so soon? What kind of wedding can we plan in a week or two, and goodness, people will think that you two need to be married in haste. It will ruin our good name."

William shook his head as he turned toward his wife. "What good name is that, Margaret? We really don't know anyone in Boston, so why worry about what others have to say. I think this sounds perfect."

Melinda grinned at Adam as she took a poke at her mother as well, "We do have to get married, Mother."

Margaret shrieked as she slumped back against her chair again. "How could you do this to me? We'll be disgraced."

Her daughter laughed openly at her mother's hysterics. "Relax, Mother. I just meant that Adam and I have waited a long time to be together and there's no reason why we should put our wedding off any longer. We would like a small gathering of our family and friends as soon as possible."

The older woman would not be comforted. "But every bride should have a beautiful wedding…in a church with a large party after."

Melinda was squeezing Adam's hand so tightly under the table that her nails were digging into his palm. She finally confronted Margaret. "Every woman should have a beautiful wedding, Mother? Don't you remember telling me a few years ago that I was an old maid and should I ever decide to marry, I should do it quietly so that your friends wouldn't find out about it? You said I was an embarrassment since my younger sisters had to marry ahead of me, and there was no reason to make a big to-do about any marriage I'd broker in the future."

Adam took his hand from Melinda's and shook it to get the blood flowing again before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her near. "I assure all of you that Melinda and I have talked about what we'd like, and since we are both adults, we will have the wedding that suits us best. You are welcome to disagree, but we don't want to hear about it."

Through all the discussions, Lloyd had continued to drain and refill his wine glass. His eyes were drifting and his words slurred as he asked something that Adam hoped had gone unnoticed. "Say Cartwright, I notish you barely ate anything and only took a sip of the wine. Wha's with you? Wasn't it good enough?"

Adam was quick to respond, "Everything was delicious." He smiled broadly at Miranda who looked back knowingly. "I cleaned my plate, didn't I?"

Still stung by the earlier exchange, Margaret took her shot as well. "Oh, I'm sure he's not being 'disrespectful,' Lloyd, but what can you expect from a western farmer? He doesn't have the palate for good food and wine that we do. He probably grew up eating all sorts of critters, canned beans and boiled potatoes."

Adam couldn't help himself. He was grinning wickedly as he asked in a twang, "What sort of critters might you think we done et, ma'am?"

Not catching the sarcasm, she replied, "Let's see…don't you people eat rabbits, squirrels, possums, and even snakes? I'm not saying it's bad. I'm sure that when you can't afford fine meat and suitable staples, you need to use what's available. It will take some time for you to recognize the finer things in life."

Adam choked on his laughter, as Margaret huffed loudly and added, "When I think of all the sophisticated and rich young men I introduced Melinda to over the years…" She looked pointedly at her daughter. "Why couldn't you marry someone who was worthy of you and this family!"

Melinda shouted, "Mother!" but was drowned out by her father's angry rebuke. "Margaret! Please be quiet. If you'd read once in a while, you might have actually perused the article I showed you about Adam's father and family. They own the largest ranch in Nevada. I think the paper set it at a thousand square miles of prime grazing land and timber. The Cartwrights raise thousands of beef cattle; they aren't farmers. And here's the part that will interest you the most, dear, the article also said that the Cartwrights are considered one of the shrewdest, most influential…and wealthiest families in the West"

Margaret huffed, "Well how am I supposed to know all that? I thought Melinda said that Adam grew up on a farm. She never said they were good at what they did."

William gave his wife a wilting look. "Do you ever really listen to anyone but yourself, Margaret? Melinda told us about Adam's background many times. There's no reason for you not to remember a few particulars about the man your daughter wants to marry. You would remember if it was important to you, and you'll probably remember now that you've heard that the Cartwrights are well-off and highly thought of."

His wife rolled her eyes in response. "How you do go on, William. Stop scolding me in front of our children. I do listen; I don't always remember what I hear. I'm not even sure where Nevada is and I don't know what raising beef cattle entails or whether having a lot of them means more than having a few. And what's the difference there is between a ranch and a farm? The farmers I've known always had cows so I assumed it was the same thing with the Cartwrights."

Adam tried to bring the discussion to a sufferable ending by smiling kindly at Margaret. "I'll be most happy to explain ranching sometime in the future, Margaret. You're right; it isn't easy to understand what running a property like ours encompasses unless you've seen the wide open spaces out West. We aren't gentry by any means, but my family is successful at what we do." He winked at her. "And I have eaten a few rabbits and squirrels when we were on the trail moving cattle, but we have an excellent cook at our home and an exceptional wine cellar. We also went regularly to San Francisco where we ate at fine restaurants and attended the symphony and opera. I can assure you that I will never embarrass your daughter or the rest of this family."

Margaret blushed but raised her head defiantly. "I am only worried for my daughter's sake, you understand. A mother wants what's best for her children and I don't want Melinda to marry unequally. I've seen other marriages where one of the couple is superior, and those unions always end up being a disaster."

Melinda had been quiet but stared her mother down again. "Adam is more cultured and refined than I am, Mother. He's also courageous, intelligent, well-read, highly respected and he had a fine upbringing. There will be no further speculation about him. Actually, after this meal, I wonder whether he still thinks I'm a suitable match for him."

A soft huff came from Margaret's side of the table, but she said nothing more.

Adam began to rise from his chair while thanking Miranda and Lloyd. "I think that Melinda and I need to take our leave. I have things to finish preparing for my father's arrival tomorrow." He had almost made it to a full stand when he was forced to take his seat again

"Sit down, Adam. No one leaves just yet," Miranda scolded. "I've been very quiet while all this falderal was going on, but now I'm asserting that we will end this meal on a happy note. Everyone stays until we have dessert. And while we enjoy that, we will speak only of pleasant things." She rose, pointing toward the arched entry to the parlor. "Father, take Adam into the other room. Mother and Melinda can clear the table, and I'll need Lloyd's help for a few minutes. We'll be out with coffee and pie in a little bit."

Adam continued through the parlor and out the front door to sit on the porch steps. The mention of pie had sent his stomach into a dive again and he trusted that some fresh air would help settle the backwash heading up his esophagus. William followed and sat next to him.

The longsuffering older man began to speak without a preamble. "That couldn't have been an agreeable meal for you, Adam. Margaret was pretty…outspoken."

Adam shrugged. "I should have visited her sooner. She was offended and that probably set the tone."

"She wasn't always like this," William confided, but laughed as he saw Adam's eyebrows rise. "You would have had to know her many years ago, but it's true. She was witty and spoke her mind, but she wasn't harsh as she is now."

"What happened?"

William looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping at the windows. "Life, I suppose. I think we all assume our lives will go one way and when they don't, we change. Margaret was a happy woman, but something happened to her after Miranda was born. She became very sad, had a hard time just getting out of bed each day to take care of the two girls, and cried continuously. The doctor told us that this sometimes happened after a child is born, but that didn't make life any easier. My sister, Lynne, stepped in and took Melinda for a time to give Margaret a chance to get over whatever it was that was making her ill."

"Did that help?"

"Yes. But around the time she recovered, Margaret found that she was carrying Marie. Thankfully she didn't drift into that sad place again, but we still all tried to make things as easy as possible for her. Lynne kept Melinda with her a good deal of time over the next few years and the two of them became very close. I always thought that Margaret appreciated the help, but sometimes I think that's when the sniping started. She's particularly tough on Melinda and not as critical with Marie or Miranda."

"Parents are often hardest on the eldest child and get a little easier on the younger ones."

William chuckled, "Are you speaking from experience?"

Adam laughed but said no more.

"I don't want you to think that Margaret was a bad mother, Adam. I don't know if Melinda even realizes it, but a lot of the techniques she uses in her teaching program were things that Margaret did with the girls when they were young. Melinda was independent, headstrong, and creative from the time she was little, so she butted heads regularly with her mother. What neither of them saw was that mother and daughter were very much alike in those attributes."

After a brief pause, William continued, "My sister was what people call an old maid…and worse, but she liked who she was and never let the world tell her how to think or act. Melinda loved that about her and adopted her philosophies about many things as she got into her teens. She finally stayed in Boston to attend school, and Lynne secured the position of governess for her in Boston with the Warnimonts. That's when you met her. We have learned more about Lynne's philosophies since she passed and know now that they were quite liberal for the age we live in. My sister was never overt about her lifestyle when Melinda was around, but I'm sure that her free-thinking ideas about woman's equality and rights did appeal to my daughter."

Adam smiled. "Speaking for myself, I'm glad that Melinda spent so much time at her aunt's home. From your description of your sister, I suppose it was her influence that makes Melinda so sure of herself and able to speak her mind."

"Partly… but Margaret was like that too, so Melinda had two strong women to model herself after. One thing that Lynne showed my daughter was that a woman should only marry for love."

Adam sat back, leaning his elbows on a higher step. "I guess I'm glad about that too."

"Lynne had a great love in her life as well. She was never able to marry the man, and faced severe criticism for remaining single. Her theory was that it was better to have known great love and remain alone, rather than to marry only to conform to the expectations of others."

"Melinda said something similar to me."

"Lynne was an artist, a poet and a free spirit who remained independent, but never alone. She was surrounded by friends and had a good life until her mind went bad. Melinda's fire grew into courage while she was with Lynne and when we were all concerned that she wouldn't marry and have a family of her own, Melinda told us that she had met the only person she could foresee being with and she wouldn't settle for a substitute. I believed her and didn't press the issue. I am extremely proud of my daughter's accomplishments, but that doesn't mean I don't worry about her. I don't want you to ever hurt her again."

Adam tipped his head as his face wrinkled in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir. I have never meant to hurt her."

William did not appear to be a strong man, but he looked at Adam with eyes fired by protective fierceness. "Yes, I know that. But I don't think you know how hurt she was when she came home from Sacramento."

Adam shook his head, still not understanding.

"It was there that she found out that you had settled for a substitute. She felt that you had remained single, perhaps not knowing exactly why, but feeling that something was missing. But then after coming so close to figuring it out, you wavered. Of course you wrote later to tell her that the marriage hadn't taken place."

"I've been accused of having a very thick skull. It takes me a little longer to see what's right in front of me." There was a moment of silence that was broken when Adam added, "You and your daughter have a close bond."

"We do. Melinda knows that she can tell me anything." He thought about that statement. "Let me rephrase that; she doesn't tell me everything. She tells me how she feels and she's very happy right now. See to it that she remains that way."

The door opened as Lloyd stuck his head out and summoned Adam and William back inside. William made his way past his son-in-law, but as Adam tried to pass, Lloyd took his arm and held him back. "I'm sorry about my rude comment earlier, Adam. Miranda told me why you didn't eat much."

"No harm done, Lloyd." Adam tried to move forward, but Lloyd's hand remained on his arm. As he looked at his host, he saw a nervous look cross Lloyd's face before it settled into an eerie smile. The man's breath had the lingering smell of the sweet wine from dinner, making Adam turn his head away as Lloyd spoke again.

"I read that article about your father before coming out to get you. I admit I had no idea that your family was so… ah, prosperous. I think I have something you'd be very interested in hearing about."

Adam had no idea what Lloyd was talking about and no patience for whatever game his host was playing. "We should probably get inside. I wouldn't want to keep Margaret waiting."

"They won't miss us for a minute or two." Lloyd looked around furtively before revealing his intent. "I have an opportunity that I'd like to tell you about. I can only allow a few people to get in on this. You could make a small fortune."

"I never mix social engagements with financial discussions," Adam replied as he smiled while removing Lloyd's hand from his arm. "If you have something you'd like me to see, please send me a prospectus and I'll look it over and get back to you if I'm interested."

Melinda and Adam said their goodbyes after finishing dessert and made their way to their buggy. Lloyd left the group on the porch and sidled up to Adam before he reached the boulevard, saying, "I'll stop by your office tomorrow and give you the details of that deal I mentioned."

"That won't work for me. My father is due in tomorrow." Adam hoped this would defer the talk until sometime in the future…the distant future to be precise.

Lloyd was undeterred. "Oh, that's even better! Your father will be interested in hearing about this as well."

Adam assisted Melinda and then climbed into the rig as he tried a final time to dissuade Lloyd. "I'd prefer we schedule another day. Send me your work address along with the information and I'll stop at your office to see you if it looks promising." He gave the horse an overly-enthusiastic slap with the reins and the carriage jolted as they pulled away before Lloyd could say any more. Adam sighed with relief as he looked back while rounding the first corner, grateful to see that the man had not pursued them on foot. They passed a jewelry store with a large clock in the window and Adam was amazed to see that It was only was a few minutes after two. He felt as if he'd been held captive for several hours rather than a mere three.

Melinda remained quiet until they were several blocks away from her sister's home. She finally laid her hand on Adam's arm. "Remember the other day when you said that if I wanted to back out of the wedding you wouldn't hold it against me?" Not waiting for an answer, she added, "Well I'm offering you the same chance."

His puzzled half-grin turned into a chuckle. "Now why would I do that?"

"Weren't we just with my family? That ought to be enough to give anyone second thoughts."

"I like your father very much, and your sister is pleasant and a fine hostess. That just leaves your mother, and Lloyd. One thing about Margaret is that you never have to wonder what she's thinking." He laughed at Melinda's sour look. "But I'm not marrying Margaret. If it gets too hard to live in the same city with her, we'll move."

"Where?"

"Far, far away." They both laughed, before Adam asked, "What do you know about what Lloyd does for a living?"

"Not a lot. I think he looks for thing to invest in, and then finds investors. Why do you ask?"

Adam bit the inside of his cheek while considering how to phrase his thought. He wasn't sure why he felt uneasy about Lloyd, but he did. "He became very resolute about having me invest in some big opportunity he has in the works. He only said a few words to me all day, and then suddenly wanted to be my pal and make me rich. It seemed odd."

"He once asked me to invest but I was helping my parents get settled here at the time and didn't have any money to spare. I think he has done well for himself and my sister, yet I suspect they're having money problems now. Miranda said they had to cut back on several things they used to do." She paused. "But I suppose everyone has had some financial setbacks because of the war."

"I guess I can hear him out. I hope it won't cause problems if I don't like what he has to say. I remember a time when I invested in something with my brothers and it went badly." He grinned as recalled the thoroughbred that he and Hoss had bought together…and then lost to their youngest brother. "It's always a caution to get into money matters with family."

Melinda leaned onto his shoulder as he drove. "I'm sorry for my mother's nastiness. She has never understood much about me, so I'm not surprised that she picked you apart too."

He slowed the horse to be able to look at Melinda. "You aren't responsible for what your mother says and I'm sure she'll ease up a bit as she gets to know me better." A wicked grin replaced his sincere look. "And as concerns some uncomfortable dinner parties, you'll have to ask my father about some of things my brothers and I did to him when he brought guests to our house."

"Oh? What sort of things?" She quickly forgot her family as she waited to hear about his.

"My brothers and I were little less than outright rude to an old friend Pa brought home for dinner once. All three of us were astonished that he'd even think about seeing an 'actress.' So we pulled him aside and had a little talk with him before he left for the theater with her, and then…"

Melinda was practically bouncing on the seat. "And then, what?"

"Suffice it to say that we embarrassed ourselves badly while trying to prove how unsuitable she was. In the end, we found out that she was an intriguing woman. We weren't kids when this happened either, and it surprised all of us that we held opinions based on what we thought a person would be like because of her occupation, rather than getting to know her."

Melinda considered Adam's admission with great interest. In their years apart she had always imagined him as being a man who didn't let the vagaries of life buffet him as lesser people did. But she was learning differently, and she loved this man even more. Two years ago she'd found out that he had asked another woman to marry him even though he knew it didn't feel right. He'd admitted that to Melinda in the letter he wrote after the engagement was terminated, saying that his desire to have a family had overridden his heart telling him that it wasn't the right time or person. Then she'd found out the other day that her actions, even though misunderstood, had wounded him, making him think that she was not physically attracted to him. And now, she'd learned that he sometimes made judgments that were incorrect. Her conclusion was that while some people might continue through life making the same mistakes, Adam learned from his.

Her silence continued as she thought about how much she wanted to be married, and concluded that this would be the longest 14 days of her life.

Melinda was still deep in thought when she noticed that Adam grimaced and leaned forward for a moment, and left her thoughts behind to take a good look at him. "Are you still feeling poorly? You seem flushed." She laid the back of her hand against his forehead and was astonished at the heat she felt. "You're going straight to bed when we get back."

He leered at her as he teased, "And will you be joining me there?"

"That better be the fever talking." She tried to appear outraged at the comment, but broke into a giggle. "Seriously, Adam, you are sick and need to rest."

"Let's keep talking about other things, my dear. I don't think about how bad I feel when we're talking."

"I can do that," she promised. "I have a question. What were you and my father talking about on the porch? I looked out the window and you two seemed to be having a serious conversation."

He slowed the horse as they neared Abel's house. "He told me that I have to keep you happy."

She motioned him to continue driving. "Go to the livery instead of dropping me off. I'll walk back with you." After he agreed, she asked, "What did you tell him?"

He parried her question with one of his own. "What did you say to your sister about me?" When she refused to answer he teased, "Seems like we'll each have a secret then."