White, spotless white. The picture of pure beauty. Never in a million years would anyone ever imagine that it would be different. Spotless white, the way it had been for generations, the way it was supposed to be and the way it was intended to be. Beautiful. The shiny silk tablecloth, which had an exquisite design woven into it. The soft fabric that had survived for more than thirty years, traveled the globe and had crossed a great nation, to be ordained on the dining room table of a rich ranch house, used only on special occasions. It had served proudly for the worthy owner, never once having the misfortune to have something spilled on it, but remaining the spotless white, and in tacked. But fate had played a terrible trick on it, and just when it had reached its peak of glory, it was roughly ripped from the table and used in an abusive manor.
The once beautiful table cloth was now being used as a dishtowel might be. With no care for the sentimental value that it had, with no care for the expense of the tablecloth. It was used in such an abusive way, that there was no longer any hope for the stain―that continued to grow―to ever be washed away. The tablecloth was officially ruined and no amount of washing could ever bring back the beauty it had once beheld.
However one could not be angry at the person who had so rudely decided to use it in the manor that they were. For at the moment they lay crumpled on the floor, covered in blood. The person themselves were not quite in their right state of mind, for their only concern at the moment was to stop the ever increasing blood flow from their lower abdomen. It wasn't until the person had stunted the flow of blood slightly that they finally took the time to consider what they were using. It was then that person realized and they groaned aloud.
It was his mothers, and his mind ached with agony when he realized how it would never be what it had so recently been. He knew that his father had great sentimental value in it as well, for it was one of the few things he still had of his late wife's. The tablecloth had only ever been used for important parties, or meetings, and was never intended for the abuse it was now taking.
As one hand tightly clamped his side, the other slowly traced the magnificent design, and gently rubbed the soft fabric between his dirty, bloody, fingers. He wished that he could restore the tablecloth back to its original beauty; that he had found some other blanket at his convenience, but as it was…
He sighed, wishing that it had never happened. Whishing away the whole stupid argument, and its shattering results. He had been drawn into an argument started by someone else. An argument that he had had no interest in, but had somehow ended up in a gun battle. A battle that was unfair in itself, for he had lost his gun. The argument and fight had taken place way outside of town and far away from any civilization. Just five cowhands sitting around a fire talking peacefully until one of them had started talking angrily and it had quickly gotten out of control and broke into a huge fist fight that ended with guns. Ironically he had been the one to get hit, although he had, for the most part, stayed out of the fighting. He had lost his gun as he had affronted a cowhand that had come charging in his direction knocking him to the ground, and soon after he had been shot. The strange thing was no one took much notice, three shots were fired simultaneously but the fight hadn't stopped. It continued on, and he decided he had had enough. Stumbling to his horse he rode ten miles back to his home, reaching it at dusk.
Falling from Sport he had tripped into the house only to find it empty, much to his surprise. He had walked to the table and fell dragging the tablecloth with him, and using it to stop the blood flow.
Groaning out loud he slowly looked about the room noting the helplessness of his position and a deep sense of loneliness washed over him.
"Why…? One should not care so much." Adam Cartwright thought as he let the cloth slip between his fingers. "Where is everyone?" he said allowed. "And why is the house so…?" he couldn't find a word to describe the décor of the ranch house, and since no one was listening he refrained from continuing.
He had been away on business and had ridden a long way to get home. He had come upon the camp of the five cowhands, and had asked if he could have a bit of their coffee. They had agreed good-naturedly and all had been well until the argument had broken out. Also, since he had finished his business early, he had sent no word ahead of his unexpected arrival, thus no one was there to greet him, and he was unaware of the event that was undoubtedly about to take place, or had taken place.
His head spun in a sudden wave of dizziness and pain gripped his whole body causing him to close his eyes and clench his teeth.
"No sense dying on the floor," he muttered to himself in a melodramatic way, pulling himself to his feet and stumbling for the kitchen.
If he had any hopes for surviving he was going to have to do something to stop the blood flow.
"You could sear it shut," he thought dolefully as he stumbled painfully into the kitchen dragging the poor tablecloth with him. "No," he decided. "It would only have to be reopened to fish out the bullet and…too much work."
He had by that time reached the kitchen and he fell in a great heap into a chair resting until he could get to the medicine cabinet. He sat as the minutes ticked by, breathing heavily and shaking violently with cold and shock. Slowly he rose to his feet and managed a step before his legs betrayed him and he fell to the floor.
His head smacked it first and the dark circles that had started to invade his vision grew until he was hard pressed to see. Lying absolutely still he waited until his eyes had cleared, then dragging himself upright, he once more started for the cabinet. His final moment of victory came when he finally reached it and pulled himself upright, but that small triumph went crashing back down when he realized the cabinet was locked.
"Locked?" he said. Angry and mystified as to why it was locked he stated. "Never in my entire life has this cabinet ever been locked!" he practically cried with irritation. "And to think I wasted all that time…" He sank to the floor right then and pulled the tablecloth closer. "Can't say I didn't try," he said to the cloth as it was the only thing offering its self at the moment.
"No, you can't say I didn't try."
He looked once more about the kitchen and it was then that his eyes lit upon an enormous cake, expertly decorated.
"Oh look, someone's having a party," his voice dripped with sarcasm. "I wonder who it's for." His eyes closed tightly and he finally decided to give in to the pain and slowly his head slipped down and he lay, still tightly clutching the table cloth, unconscious.
Joe Cartwright slowly rode into the ranch yard, livid that he had been the one sent home. His family was entertain some important guests, and had planned a big celebration before they left. Ben had taken the guests to have a picnic meal out on the Ponderosa, where they were intending to spend the day. They had in fact spent their day quite happily there, but the time had come for them to return home before the guests arrived for the party that night, and Joe was sent on ahead.
Angrily he rode mumbling about all the fun he was missing out on not being allowed to ride along with the party. Normally being sent on ahead wouldn't bother him so, but their guest happened to have a very pretty daughter and Joe had become quite smitten with her. He was simply devastated that she was leaving and he had planned to spend as much time with her as possible.
Riding into the yard he didn't notice Adam's horse until he was at the hitching rail. Swinging down, he frowned at the horse and headed in.
"Adam?" he called entering the house. "Adam!" he called again louder. Then bounding up the stairs he walked to his brother's room. "Adam?" he questioned, pushing the slightly agar door open.
The room was empty and puzzled, Joe headed back down stairs. He stood on the landing and thought a moment. It seemed as though something about the room was not quite right, but after looking around and finding nothing amiss, he continued the rest of his way down with a shrug of his shoulders. Heading outside, he took both horses to the barn to put them away, grumbling about the extra work.
Slowly he put Cochise away, daydreaming of the soft auburn hair that their guest had. He smiled at the thought of getting to dance with her all evening, and slowly he walked over to Sport. He had just reached the horse's head when the sound of a single rider came to his ears and he went to the door to have a look. It was Hoss.
"What are doing you back so early?" Joe asked with slight surprise. He had figured Hoss would have taken advantage of his absents on the beautiful young girl.
Hoss rode his horse over to the barn and slowly got down entering with Joe, his nose was turned up slightly.
"Joe, I said three worlds to that little filly, and she looked at me as though I was from another planet!' He shook his head. "For once little brother, this one is all yours." He looked over at Joe and his eyes landed on Sport. "Say! Adam's back!" He cried happily leading his mount into its stall, and starting to unsaddle it.
"Yes," Joe replied grudgingly, taking the horse's reins and starting to remove the bridle. "But he didn't bother to put Sport away."
Hoss smiled. "Well that's cuz he knew you would be happy to do it for him."
Joe grumbled a retort and moved to the saddle where he began to loosen the cinch. He had just reached up to remove it from the horse when he froze. There on the seat and part of the horse was the crimson color of blood.
"Hoss! Hoss!" Joe cried.
"What in tarnation has gotten into you?" Hoss asked, slightly amused at his brother's discomfort and he walked over to have a look.
"Look there!" Joe pointed, and rushed from the barn, followed by Hoss at a close second.
"Adam!" Joe cried running for the house.
"Adam!" Hoss yelled running after his brother.
They both burst into the living room, and cried the name simultaneously. Joe, who had already been upstairs headed straight for the kitchen, and was followed by Hoss, who had found a small trail of blood. There they found him sprawled on the floor, one hand still tightly clutching the tablecloth. They both were at his side in an instant, and in the next Hoss was carrying Adam up stairs as Joe trailed behind, carrying the tablecloth. He made it to the stairs with it before he realized that it was in his hands and he threw it to the floor.
After laying Adam as comfortable as possible on his bed, Hoss sent Joe after Dr. Martin as he put pressure on the wound to help stop the blood flow. Never before had Hoss known his brother to saddle and mount a horse as quickly as Joe did. He tore out of the ranch yard and down the road. Hoss had to smile in spite of himself as he looked back at Adam.
Adam's head moved to one side and quickly his eyes opened and his hands flew up in a defensive manor.
"Whoa!" Hoss cried, as a fist he never saw coming, swung past his face. "Take it easy there, it's just me."
Slowly the fists relaxed and Adam turned with a crooked smile at Hoss. "Well I had to see if your reflexes were still as good as you boast," he said very softly. He heaved a very great sigh and started to shake with cold, and the still present shock.
Hoss smiled back. "You'd better just worry about yourself, at the moment I don't think you could startle a fly."
"Where's Pa?" Adam asked, his eyes closing and his head drooping back to one side.
"He's on his way. Joe went after the doc, so just you take it easy."
Adam slowly nodded and drifted back off into an unconscious sleep.
"You'd better take it easy, cuz I don't think you can stand much more," Hoss mumbled, his eyebrows knitting with great concern.
The party of five rode into the ranch yard with Ben Cartwright in the lead. He swung down from his horse, greatly surprised that neither Joe nor Hoss had run out to greet them. With a shake of his head he helped the young lady down from the buggy and escorted her, and her father into the house.
The Hop Sing bustled to the kitchen and a ranch hand, who had gone with them to help, put the horses away. Pleasantly Ben opened the door and released the arm of the girl as he glanced about the house.
"Hoss? Joseph? " he called. With a smile of apology at his guests he took another quick look about. "Can't imagine where they have gotten too. If you'll excuse me?"
Both of them nodded their approval and Ben headed over to the staircase. His eyes fell to the bloody tablecloth and he scooped it up, hurrying up the stairs.
"Hoss! Josephs!" His voice had now become demanding with a slight edge of worry.
"Here Pa," a muffled reply came, and Ben was astounded to find that it had come from Adam's room.
Pushing the door open hurriedly, he entered with the tablecloth and walked up to the bed, his expression dropping further.
"What happen?" he breathed softly to Hoss.
"I ain't got no idea Pa. Me and Little Joe found him this way. Joe's gone to fetch the doc."
Slowly Ben sat on the bed and took a look at the wound before replacing Hoss' hand, back on it.
"Pa, I swear he's whiter than when me and Little Joe found him, and I know his breathing has gotten shallower." Hoss looked at his father with worry, and Ben nodded.
"Mr. Cartwright?" a soft feminine voice filtered into the room as someone out in the hall approached the door. "Mr. Cartwright?"
"You'd better take care of them Pa, I'll stay here and watch Adam," Hoss whispered.
"Yes," Ben nodded. "And unfortunately we can't call off the party," Ben grumbled walking from the room leaving the tablecloth in a chair by the door.
"Miss Sadler." Ben smiled. "How may I help you?"
"Well I was wondering…" she blushed and smiled looking down at her hands. "I thought…Did you find Joseph?"
Ben smiled politely. "My son had to run to town, on important business, but he'll be back in time for the party. Now, the guests will be here in an hour or so, and you must be ready to great them."
She smiled a sad smile and hurried off to her room. Ben sighed in relief and went down stairs to fulfill his duty as a host. Mr. Sadler smiled up at him as he made his way down the stairs and Sadler raised his glass of brandy.
"You know, I don't think I have ever tasted better, and I just can't seem to get enough of it." He downed his glass and filled it again. "Find your boys?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "You know I find children to be such troublesome things. I only have one―thank heavens―and she drives me insane. I have no idea how you can handle two? Or three? All by yourself, and without the help of a wife." He had filled and emptied his glass three times throughout the speech but at last he put down the bottle. "I'm tired, and I think I shall take a nap before the people get here. I have an hour right?"
Ben nodded and was about to say more but was cut off.
"Good. See you in an hour." He waved and disappeared up stairs.
Ben watched him go with a deep frown, and a great dislike for their guest. If he could have called off the party for the night, he would have. However, it was too late for some of their guest, because they would already be on their way. Mr. Sadler would never let him hear the end of it and Ben didn't want to listen to that man chastise him all evening. Throwing up his hands in frustration he turned to see Hop Sing, the ever faithful cook, running to him.
"One of your sons hurt, Mr. Cartwright?"
"Yes, Adam, and it's pretty bad. I was going to ask you to get some water boiling."
"Hop Sing already take care of that. Enough for guests and Mr. Adam." He said handing Ben a bowl of steaming water.
Ben smiled at his cook's foresight. "Good." His eyes turned and he looked back up stairs.
"You go Mr. Cartwright. I'll watch for Joe, and guests. Let you know when needed."
"Thank you Hop Sing." Ben smiled and walked up the stairs to Adam's room.
Hoss smiled at his father and made room as Ben set about mopping up some of the blood and cooling his son's ever heating forehead.
"Got a bad fever," Hoss commented.
"Yes," Ben agreed. "But it was to be expected."
"Yeah, I suppose so. I sure wish Little Joe would get back though."
"I'm sure he's hurrying."
"I know Pa…" Hoss didn't finish for he was unsure what to add to correct his previous statement.
They sat in silence for the rest of the time, until Ben finally had to leave to get ready for the party that night. Walking out of his room in his tux, he was just in time to see Dr. Martin go into Adam's room and Joe following him, his face crumpled with worry.
"Joseph," Ben called softly as he reached the door and blocked his path. "You need to get dressed for the party. Like it or not we still have guests to entertain tonight."
"Couldn't we call it off, Pa?" Joe asked softly as he fiddled with his hat.
Ben placed his hand on his son's shoulder and smiled slightly. "I'd like to son, but that really is imposable."
"What's imposable?" a voice boomed and Ben cringed. Mr. Sadler walked up to the pair and eyed Joe over. "You'd better hurry son and get ready." He said it as a statement and his glare left no room for argument.
Joe looked Mr. Sadler over slowly, his mouth twitching with annoyance, then glanced at his father who nodded with irritated agreement and Joe walked slowly away.
Sadler smiled as soon as he was gone. "Come Ben, let us have a taste of that excellent punch your cook set out before the guests get here." He wrapped his arm around Ben and started them forward.
"Mr. Sadler there is―" Ben began.
"Personally I don't know why you hired an oriental to cook your food," he leaned in closer. "Personally I don't trust them.
"Mr. Sadler―" Ben again stared his temper rising.
"But he is an excellent cook. I don't think I've tasted better in a long time. Why I might even be willing to take him off your hands, at a decent price, of course."
"Mr. Sadler!" Ben finally said in such a forceful way that the man stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to Ben. "First of all, I do not own Hop Sing and in no way would I ever consider selling him to you. Secondly, one of my sons is very ill and I should like to be with him a few moments longer before the party."
"One of your sons is sick? Why that's too bad. Nothing serious I hope?" He laughed and started down the stairs taking Ben with him. "Really, a sick son is nothing to be worried about, send for the doctor and stay as far away as possible, I always say. Now about that punch, and what price did you name for your cook?"
Ben stared at his guest astounded and was about to pull his arm away when the sound of a buggy entering the yard reached his ears and Miss Sadler came floating down the stairs in her crimson red, silk dress and highly decorative diamonds.
"Mr. Cartwright? Oh, Mr. Cartwright is Joe back yet?" she asked.
Mr. Sadler rolled his eyes and walked to the punch bowl, the door was opened and several guests entered shouting a greeting to Ben, and Hop Sing pushed past Ben heading up stairs with a bowl of hot water. The girl continued to pepper him with questions about Joe, and another buggy pulled into the yard as Mr. Saddler downed three cups of punch.
For a moment Ben stood unsure how to cope with all the sudden chaos, but he quickly decided, and put on a fake smiled, going down to greet the arriving guests taking Miss Sadler's arm and reassuring her that Joe would be down in a minute to dance every dance with her.
Paul Martin sat rigidly in a chair next to Adam's bed. His patient's wrist was in his hand as he subconsciously took the pulse. Paul hated to be the bearer of bad news, but bad news was what he had. He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and sat back in his chair studying the white face of his patient as he listened to the music float up to his room.
The music had been playing for quite some time, and had only stopped once, for about an hour, as Mr. Sadler made a farewell speech. It had played constantly since then and Paul noted that the speech had been two hours ago.
"Then I've…" he though a moment. "Been here for four hours." Again he rubbed his neck and stood. He was alone in the room, for he had sent Hoss away some time ago to join the party, and he walked to the mirror straitening his attire. "Time to face the music," he said, and turned slightly as Adam gave a low, pained groan and his head flopped to the other side. After being sure that his patient was not about to wake up, he left the room and walked to the stairs pausing to watch the festivities below.
"You are really only delaying the inevitable," he mumbled to himself as he spotted Ben at the other side of the room surrounded by a group of men with Mr. Sadler. "Ben must know the facts." He started down the stairs and was greeted by Roy Coffee at the bottom.
"Hello Dr. Martin. I didn't know you were here, did you arrive late?" Then he laughed. "Did you get here late on purpose so you could miss the speech?"
Martin laughed. "No, actually I've been here some time, but upstairs. Adam's back, but he didn't making to without trouble and I've spent these four hours patching him up, but now I must talk with Ben, and for once I'll admit that I'd really rather not."
"That bad?" Roy asked, his face taking the normal serious look.
"That actually is a complicated answer," Dr. Martin answered, rubbing his head.
"Well, you just come with me and we'll both go find Ben. I'm surprised he didn't slip out during the speech and make a beeline for it upstairs."
"Yes, I'm surprised about that myself," Martin concurred as they neared Ben and Coffee pushed their way through the crowed.
"Ben," he said good-naturedly. "The doc here has something he wants to talk to you about and was wondering if you could spare him a few moments upstairs."
Ben's eyes went to the doctor and with a smile of apology he slipped away. They went back up stairs and entered Adam's room before anything was said.
"Well?" Ben asked after a few more moments of waiting. "How is he?"
"He's not too good, not too bad, lucky I'd say."
Ben looked at him perplexed. "What kind of an answer is that? Is he or is he not okay?" Ben asked his voice raising a notch.
"Yes," Martin smiled and hushed Ben before he could make another outbreak. "The bullets out and the damaged repaired. But Ben…This is the closest I have ever seen him come to dying." The doctor shook his head. "A minute later and I would have been too late." He ran his fingers through his hair and Ben waited wondering what the normal cool headed doctor was upset about.
"When does Mr. Sadler and his daughter leave?" Martin asked after some moments.
"They leave in the morning." Be answered, as he wondered what that had to do with anything.
"Good, he's going to need all the rest he can get, and I mean quiet." Martin picked up his bag and hat shaking his head. "I tell you Ben, he had me scared. I honestly thought I was going to have to tell you…" the doctor shook his head. "Thank heaven for strong constitutions and Cartwright stubbornness. He has a fever now, and is by no means out of the woods. Have someone stay with him tonight, and keep an on eye him." Martin walked for the door with Ben then stopped. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra room would you?" he asked his eyes on Adam. "I just don't know Ben."
"Yes…Yes! Of course we have a room for you."
"Wouldn't mind if I had it now, would you? I'm bushed."
"Yes, of course." Ben opened the door and led the tired doctor down the hall to an empty room.
"Send someone up to watch him, and tell me the minute he changes," Martin instructed at his door, right before he shut it.
Ben nodded and walked away. He had never really seen the doctor so scared before, but then again, Ben had never seen him this tired before either. Starting back down the hall he peeked into Adam's room one more time before heading to the top of the stairs and pausing. Joe was dancing with Miss Sadler, as she carried on and on, and Joe kept glancing up stairs. Hoss was standing in the corner talking to a group of men, but his eyes kept trailing to the stairs as well, and Mr. Sadler stood at the punch bowl, downing glass after glass of punch.
"How that man manages to stay sober I'll never know," Ben thought with a frown.
He pulled Hoss away, briefly explained the situation, moments later Ben returned upstairs to site with his son. He wasn't needed elsewhere, Hoss could handle it, and this was where he needed to be.
Hoss turned back to the room, having left the small group of me, when Ben had called him over to talk with him, and saw Joe glancing up again, and then looked at him. Their eyes locked, and Joe's face was in a question. Hoss nodded and Joe frowned, turning back to his partner as they stumbled slightly. Miss Sadler seemed to recognize his distraction for the first time that night, and her face dropped. She began to pester Joe with a bunch of questions and Joe fumbled to answer them.
Hoss watched this all take place with a slight smile and he turned just as Mr. Sadler filled yet another cup of punch. With the shake of his head he walked over to the man and smiled a waxed smile.
"Mr. Sadler, is the punch good?" he asked, with all Cartwright politeness, but with hidden sarcasm.
"Excellent!" he cried, and Hoss detected a slight slur of the word.
"Yes well, don't you think you've had enough?" he continued.
"Actually yes I do, but parties are such boring things. Really I don't know why your father has them. I find that the only thing interesting at a party is speech giving, and the punch bowl." Mr. Sadler smiled and turned back to the bowl but Hoss grabbed his arm and gently steered him away.
"Well, its ten o'clock now, and the guests will all be leaving in an hour and you outta' say goodnight…"
Sadler stopped and frowned. "Yes, I suppose I must say goodbye to each one of them…I guess perhaps I have had…" He frowned at Hoss. "Blast!" Gloomily he walked away and Hoss watched him go with a satisfied smile.
Turning he saw Roy Coffee watching him and with a smile he went over. He spent the greater part of an hour talking to the sheriff, and when at last the clock struck eleven, Mr. Sadler made another hour long farewell speech and the guests all left for home.
"Hoss? Hoss, have you seen Joe anywhere? He left me half-way through Father's speech and I cannot find him anywhere," Miss Sadler whined, walking up to Hoss
"I reckon Joe is about somewhere, but don't you worry non about finding him, he's probably got chores he's finishing up. I reckon you wouldn't want to wait…" Hoss said pleasantly, taking her to the stairs.
"Alright," Miss Sadler said, putting on a long pout and slowly going up the stairs.
She reached the top and started to head for her room but stopped. She wanted to see Joe one more time before she retired that night. All day he had been promising her a splendid evening, and now that the time had come, she felt slightly disappointed. He had not quiet met her expectations and she wanted more.
With determination she headed down the hall in the direction she was sure Joe's room was in. Passing a door she heard voices on the other side, and after pausing a moment she went in.
There Joe was; sitting in a chair next to Adam's bed softly talking with Ben, both men rose as she entered and Miss Sadler put her hands on her hips frowning.
"Joe! I've been looking all over for you! Where did you…" She paused when she saw Adam and went to have a look.
Her first thought was that he might have been hansom―more so than Joe―had he not been so pale, her second thought was irritation.
"Who's he?" she snapped turning to Joe who had a guilty face.
"I'm sorry I left you, Ann, but he's my brother you see, and I wanted to be with―"
"You left me, to come sit with your bother?" She cried, her face melting to an angry pout. "Why? He won't know if you're here or not! Besides I'm leaving in the morning, am not I more important?" she asked in such a drippy voice.
Joe gulped and stepped back slightly, "I'm sorry, Ann, but Adam―"
"Seriously Joe!" she turned and looked back at Adam. "What's wrong with him?" she asked bending close to his face, but before anyone could answer Adam groaned and slowly his eyes opened.
"Good gravy!" He moaned backing away from the face. "Who in heavens name…?"
"This is Miss Sadler, Adam, she's staying with us, but she's going home tomorrow," Ben filled in moving his slightly agar patient back onto the bed.
"Good," Adam mumbled shutting his eyes again. "She's too noisy."
"Me! Noisy!" she fumed, "Why I never!" she turned abruptly round slinging her satchel after her and stormed out the room, but the purse happen to catch Adam in the abdomen and his eyes flew open as he moaned.
Joe glared after her angrily his eyes flaring, and Ben again readjusted Adam as he gripped his stomach.
"Joe? Go get the Dr. Martin, he wanted to know if there was any change, and get her out of here," Ben snapped, as Joe had started after the girl in anger.
Slowly Joe nodded and hurried down the hall in search of the doctor.
Ben smiled and looked back at Adam, who was gasping for air and holding tightly to his midsection.
"Who in the world is that?" he gasped.
"She's Miss Sadler, her father owns half the shares in the Virginia City mine."
"That Sadler," Adam groaned.
"You know him?" Ben asked. He really couldn't help asking the question, since he had only know of this Mr. Sadler three days ago.
Slowly Adam nodded. "Yes," he mumbled. "And the acquaintance is not one I'd like to renew."
"Rest easy, they're leaving tomorrow."
"Good," Adam mumbled his face growing white and his eyes closing.
The doctor entered at that moment, and slowly he made his way over to his patient. Adam had dropped back off by the time he got there, so Martin glanced his patient over one more time, then frowned at Joe and Ben.
"Think he can be left alone long enough to get some sleep?"
Both Cartwrights nodded.
"Good, then leave him alone, and let him rest quietly," the doctor ordered and left again for his room
The Sadler's weren't known for their consideration and after a slightly eventful night, Ben sent them to Virginia City to finish out their night and catch their ride out of there in the morning. There was no love loss between the families and by the time Ben got them packed up and out of there, Sadler was posing threats to run the Cartwright name through the dirt, and Ann was promising to never marry Joe. Little did she know he cared not for her threats.
But at long last Adam got his much needed rest and the Cartwright home once more fell into a sort of peace.
The tablecloth, remained in the chair in Adam's room where it had been so rudely thrown, as the Cartwright continued to slowly heal. It was not noticed or discovered until four weeks later when Adam had stumbled upstairs to his room and plopped down in a chair. Finding it, he fingered the beautiful fabric and smiled slightly at it. It was stunning, even though it had a hug rusty brown spot off to one side, it was still very lovely.
Pulling himself up with a slight groan Adam started down the stairs to see if Hop Sing could do anything for the slightly hopeless tablecloth, and prayed his father wouldn't be too angry at him for destroying one of the last things Ben still had of his late wife, Elizabeth.
So you have to consider the time period the story is set in. The 1800s. There weren't cellphone didn't have email, didn't have a landline all they had was the telegraph and riders to spread the news. You also have to consider that when throwing a part people would travel for hours, (sometimes days) to attend. They were something that was planned for weeks in advance and that everyone knew about. They were huge social events and the whole town probably would have attended. Not just whole town but other ranchers, ranch hands, and they didn't live close together. Now granted that's not quite something the TV show ever portrayed, but it was something I was trying to be more realistic about in this short piece. greatly sorry to those who disagree, I rewrote some of it, hope you enjoy.
idahome