Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. Original characters and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended. This story may not be duplicated in part or in whole or printed elsewhere without the express permission of the author.

Absolution

Hoss remarked that the lights weren't on, that the place seemed dark and that worried Adam; she had been alone all day and unless she was sleeping with one of her headaches, the lights should be on. So Joe and Hoss put the horses away and Ben and Adam went inside. At first Adam could barely make out anything in the dimness of the room but then he saw her sitting in the chair, the blue one where she often sat reading or doing needlework. She was just sitting and she didn't look up when they walked in-just continued staring down at her hands. Ben lit the lamp on his desk and then he saw the open drawers, the empty cash box, and the papers scattered on the floor. He also saw the body lying beside the desk.

Adam walked over to her but she still didn't look up. He knelt before her. He saw what she was looking at; she held a gun, the gun from Ben's desk in both hands

"Sweetheart?' She didn't look up. Adam reached out to touch her face. "Sweetheart, look at me."

She looked at him when he touched her. "Adam, you're home."

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm home. I'm home."

"Adam," Ben said. "Look. It's Frank Sanders."

Adam turned around and saw the body of the hand he had fired that afternoon, Sanders, crumpled on the floor beside the desk.

"What happened, darling? Can you tell me what happened?" He looked at her face and she seemed not to understand what he was asking her.

"I shot him."

Ben walked over to them. "Adam, his gun isn't even drawn."

Adam chose to ignore his father. "Give me the gun, sweetheart. Let go please." He ran his hand over hers and she opened her hands and reluctantly let him take the gun from her. "That's my girl. Just give me the gun."

"I shot him. I think he's dead." She looked up at Adam and he was overwhelmed with a sense of protectiveness. His mind was racing. She obviously was in shock and not thinking straight. He needed to find a way to keep her from having to answer for this-she wasn't a murderer-he had to do something.

"It's all right. I'll take care of everything." he gently pulled her to her feet and then, in the lamp that Ben had just lit, he noticed what looked like a bruise on her jaw. He gently touched it. "What happened? How did you get this?"

"He hit me. He wanted money and there wasn't much and he hit me. He said I was lying and then he hit me. He said that if he couldn't have money he would have me. He tore my blouse." She reached up to pull her blouse together where buttons had been torn from the placket. "He tore my shirt and he touched me."

"Then he deserved to die." Adam said. "Let's go upstairs. C'mon, let's put you to bed."

"Adam. We need to get Roy out here," Ben said.

Adam turned as he was guiding her up the stairs. "Get him then." And he walked with her up the stairs.

In their room he helped her undress and put on a night gown; she was like a sleep-walker. After he tucked her in, folding the covers down as if she were a child, he said, "Everything will be fine, sweetheart, don't worry about anything. You go to sleep and in the morning, everything will be better, I promise." He bent down and kissed her gently and she closed her eyes, then rolled over on her side. He could see the bruise again and he felt such anger that anyone would hurt her, that anyone would raise a hand to her. Tears began to well as he stroked her hair. She was so small, so vulnerable and he loved her so. The thought that she had been frightened when Sanders had touched her, had torn her blouse and put his hands on her made Adam wish he had shot Sanders himself.

When he went back downstairs, Ben and Joe were sitting on the couch and Sanders' body was still lying in the same spot. Adam sat down in the chair where she had been sitting earlier.

"Are you just going to let him lie there?" Adam asked.

"We shouldn't move him until Roy sees him." Ben said.

"Did Hoss go for Roy?"

"Yes," Ben added. Then, "How is she?"

"She's asleep. I don't want her to have to answer any questions tonight." Adam sat back and he tried to understand all that happened. He would help her tomorrow-tomorrow he would know what to say.

Roy came and asked questions but none of them knew anything except that Sanders was dead and she was confused so Adam thought she should sleep. Roy looked dubious and instructed Adam to bring her out early tomorrow to answer some questions.

After Roy and Hoss left with the body, Adam slid into bed next to her, slipped one arm underneath her and gently pulled her next to him. She turned over and looked into his dark eyes.

"Do you think I'll go to hell now that I've killed someone?"

"No, no, not you. Not you." He pulled her against him, held her in his arms and she tucked her head under his chin. He stroked her hair. "Besides, I'd go to hell and drag you back out." He was suddenly overwhelmed by his love for her. It was like a sharp pain and he couldn't hold her close enough. "Go to sleep now. Just go to sleep, my love" She finally did but he had a sleepless night.

As he lay in the dark holding her, he remembered how they had met through a friend and how he had been won over by her sense of humor and her quick mind-her beautiful face just made it all the sweeter. They had spent evenings talking on her parents' porch and then, once he had held her and kissed her, for him, it was done; he would marry her, had to marry her to ease the heat that raged through his blood whenever she was near. Yet, despite the year that had gone by, he still felt the heat whenever she was too close, whenever she looked at him in that way, that way that let him know that she loved him and wanted him. He would gladly kill for her, lie for her, steal for her…and he wanted to take this pain from her, to put it on himself and absolve her. All night he tried to think of a way.

In the morning, as Adam was taking her to Roy's, she sat silently, her gloved hands folded in her lap. She hadn't said much at breakfast and before he helped her into the buggy to go to town, she had reached up for him and kissed him-then she placed her hand on his cheek and thanked him for being kind. Kind, as if what he did for her was out of kindness and not because of the madness that came over him whenever he thought of what she had gone through, whenever he thought of someone else touching her and hurting her. So he lifted her into the buggy and then leaned in to kiss her again. He assured her that everything would be fine-not to worry about anything.

At Roy's office, they both sat and he held her hand while Roy asked questions: how Sanders had gotten in, what had he done, why she shot him? Adam pointed out the bruise on her jaw and had brought her torn blouse and she turned away and couldn't look at it. Then Roy said that there would need to be an inquest because Sanders's gun was still holstered. Adam said that the idea of an inquest was ridiculous, that anyone could see that since he was so much bigger than she, that she had had no choice but to shoot him, to use the gun in the desk to protect herself. Besides, Sanders had been fired for starting a fight with another hand so it showed he was violent, and even Roy had said that Sanders reeked of drink-that he obviously had been drunk when he decided to go to the Ponderosa and do what he did. Roy said that there still needed to be an inquest so that no one would have questions unanswered.

"Fine," Adam said. "I'll say I did it."

She turned toward him and grabbed his arm. "You can't say that. I won't let you. I shot him and I'll tell them that I did. I won't let you take the blame."

"I know what I'm doing," he said. "Please, trust me."

"No. No, I can't let you do this."

He looked at her, and wanted to pull her onto his lap and comfort her, she looked so panicked and afraid. He talked her into waiting in the buggy while he talked to Roy alone. She had told Roy what had happened, Adam said to her, and now he wanted to talk to Roy alone. She protested but Adam finally persuaded her to do so.

"I meant what I said, Roy. You hold an inquest, you put her through any more and I'll insist I'm the one who shot him. It won't matter what she says or what anyone in my family says or anyone else. I'll say I did it and I won't change my story. I'm responsible for what happened anyway; I fired him and told him to come back the next day to collect his pay. I should have ridden back and paid him off and taken care of the whole thing then and there. So you see, I did do it. I may not have pulled the trigger, but I did it. She's innocent of everything. Besides, he deserved to die for what he did to her and if I'd been there, I would have shot him-but not until I had chopped his hands off for touching her."

"You've lost your mind, you know that? You really expect me to go along with you?"

"I don't really care," Adam said.

"You'd lie under oath?"

"I wouldn't even think twice. I'd do anything to protect her. You should understand how I feel. I've heard you talk about Mary and how she meant everything to you. My wife means everything to me. Think about it, Roy. What if it were Mary? What would you do?"

Roy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked at Adam and he saw a man determined to shield his wife from any unpleasantness. Ben had confided once that he felt that Adam loved her beyond what was reasonable and that he was concerned should anything happen to her. Ben knew loss and the pain that followed and he feared for Adam He knew his son, knew how deeply Adam felt things and this woman he had chosen after waiting so long, was delicate and that caused Ben worry. Roy had told him that time would make things easier, the bloom of new love would fade, but Ben stated that the more time that went by, the deeper in love Adam seemed to fall and should he lose her, Ben feared he would be so lost that he would never be found. So Roy sat and sized up the problem.

"All right, Adam, I'll let it drop."

Adam relaxed in the chair. "Good. Thanks, Roy."

"Don't thank me, Adam. I just don't see any other way. If I go through with an inquest, you'd cause such a mess that people would never stop talking about it. I'm only doing this because it's obvious to me that she was protecting herself." But that was only part of it; Roy did think of Mary; he would have done the same thing for her that Adam was doing for his wife. "You'll probably face some gossip, you know?"

"I think I can handle it." Adam stood up. "So we can go, right?"

"Yeah, you can go but let me tell you something, you better keep a low profile. You know how ranch hands can be, how they talk?"

"Let them talk. Besides, Sanders wasn't too well-liked anyway." Adam turned to leave and then remembered-"Thanks, Roy." He held out his hand and Roy shook it.

"I still think what you're doing is wrong, Adam, and I should insist on a hearing but you've got me backed into a corner."

Adam just smiled and then left.

Through the window, Roy saw Adam get into the buggy and lean over to kiss his wife, watched how she laid her head against his chest and how he held her and murmured to her and when she looked up at him, how he placed his hand on the back of her neck to kiss her again and Roy felt the tug at his heart that he hadn't felt for such a long time. He had witnessed a man willing to throw everything away, his reputation, his freedom, and his family for the woman he loved, for the woman who was part of his soul.

And Roy thought of Mary. And he understood and he forgave Adam.

~Finis~