The Ghost of Christmas Past
A HOUSE UNITED story

By Sarah Hendess

Ponderosa Ranch
Nevada Territory
December 24, 1861

His bedroom was chilly, but Hop Sing had thoughtfully placed a bed warmer under his blankets, so Adam's bed was snug the moment he crawled into it. Despite the Civil War raging on the other side of the country, Adam Cartwright felt more in the Christmas spirit than he had in years. After more than a decade of missing her, the Cartwrights had their cousin and niece, the newly minted Dr. Josephine Cartwright, back on the Ponderosa.

Adam and Josie had grown close when Adam was in Massachusetts for college when Josie was just a little girl, ten years Adam's junior. Adam had spent all of his school holidays in Washington, DC, with Josie and her parents, Jacob and Hannah Cartwright, who had taken him in as their own. After Adam's college graduation, the eastern Cartwrights had escorted Adam back to Nevada and visited the Ponderosa for a month. When Josie had returned home at the end of the visit, Adam's heart had been torn to shreds. But now, with the Civil War boiling dangerously close to Washington, Josie had returned to the Ponderosa right after she had graduated from medical school seven months ago. So for the first time in twelve years, Adam and Josie were together for Christmas.

As he settled his head on his pillow, Adam thought back to that last Christmas they had spent together. As Christmases went, it was the most special one of his life to that point – happy, yes, but also sad, frustrating, and fulfilling. Adam smiled fondly at the memories as he drifted off to sleep.

Boston
December 1849

Dr. Jacob Cartwright laid a hand on his nephew's forehead and smiled as he announced that the boy's fever had not returned and he could get out of bed.

"Finally!" Adam exclaimed as he leapt out from under the covers and grabbed the pair of trousers he had tossed into his wardrobe the previous day when his uncle had ordered him to bed.

The nineteen-year-old felt foolish for ending up feverish in the first place. He was in his third and final year at Harvard University and had come to his aunt Rachel Stoddard's home in Boston for the Christmas holidays. Typically, he would have traveled to Jacob's home in Washington, DC, but the family had chosen to spend Christmas together in Boston this year.

Adam had arrived at Rachel's home from Cambridge the previous day, several hours before Jacob, Hannah, and nine-year-old Josie had arrived by train from Washington. Adam had attempted to pass the time by chatting with Rachel, his deceased mother's older sister, but Rachel had made some deeply upsetting comments about Adam's father, Ben, and Adam had stormed out of the house and into a driving snowstorm without his coat, hat, or gloves. Having nowhere else to go, he had spent the next three hours outdoors at the train station waiting for Jacob, Hannah, and Josie to arrive. By the time the other Cartwrights' train had pulled into the station, Adam was in the early stages of hypothermia. In retrospect, Adam realized he should have simply ducked into a café for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie, but at the time he had been too upset to think clearly – a mistake he vowed never to repeat. Instead, his physician uncle had rushed him back to Rachel's house, where the family got him warmed up. Adam had run a low-grade fever for a few hours, and Jacob had made him stay in bed until the fever had been gone for a full day.

Those had been the longest twenty-four hours of Adam Cartwright's life. He did not take well to being babied; he had spent the first seven years of his life crossing the continent from Boston to the Utah Territory in a covered wagon with his father, so he had learned at an early age to take care of himself. But he had not complained at all when little Josie had popped into his room the previous afternoon with a book and a peppermint stick for each of them, and they had spent a few blissful hours snuggled up to each other on his bed as they read their books and crunched their candy. Today, however, Josie had been permitted only two short visits to Adam's room. Her parents otherwise kept her downstairs so Adam could rest, so that sweet diversion was gone.

Adam loved the two little brothers he had left behind in the territory, but he and Josie had a special bond. Her mother was the younger sister of Adam's mother, Elizabeth, who had died just hours after giving birth to him in Boston. Grief-stricken, Adam's father had almost immediately left for the West with infant Adam in tow, but that did not stop Ben's younger brother, Jacob, from traveling from his college in Philadelphia to the Stoddard home in Boston to express his condolences to Hannah, Rachel, and their father, Captain Abel Stoddard. Jacob and Hannah had met on a few previous occasions, most notably at Ben and Elizabeth's wedding, but it was on this visit that they fell in love. They married four years later once Jacob had completed medical school, and six years after that, Josephine Elizabeth Cartwright was born.

Adam finally met Jacob, Hannah, and Josie a little more than two years earlier when Ben had sent him east for college. The then-six-year-old Josie had been positively delighted to meet her double first cousin, whom she affectionately dubbed "Cousin-Cousin Adam." They had connected instantly. An experienced older brother, Adam fell naturally into the role of Josie's big brother, and because both Josie and Adam so strongly favored the Stoddard side of the family, most people assumed they were brother and sister – a fiction that the cousins were happy to maintain. They had the same wavy black hair, heavily lidded hazel eyes, and subtly upturned nose. Sometimes, when something caught their interest, they both pricked an eyebrow at exactly the same angle, setting onlookers to laughing.

Developing a relationship with his eastern family – especially Josie and Hannah – had been fulfilling for Adam. Ben had given him a portrait of his mother and told him a bit about her, but getting to know his mother's sisters and niece had answered more of Adam's questions about that part of his heritage than his father's stories ever could. And there was no question that Josie was the apple of his eye. From their first meeting on a boat dock in New York City, Josie had wound Adam tightly around her little finger, and he hoped she would never let him go.

Josie returned Adam's adoration. As an only child, she had often craved the company of a brother or sister, and having Adam around – even if it was only during his summer and winter school holidays – was a dream come true to her. When Adam was in Washington, Josie followed him around like a puppy, and he delighted in taking her all over the city, especially to the new Smithsonian museum and the theater. So when Josie had sprung off the train the previous day and seen Adam standing back in an alcove, coatless, pale, and shivering violently, her stomach had seized. Her fear mounted on the carriage ride back to Rachel's as Adam grew confused and sleepy – an ominous sign that he was succumbing to the cold – and she had sat in his lap and pressed her back tightly against his chest to share her warmth with him. Like a good Stoddard, she had remained outwardly calm and assisted her father by checking Adam's fingers and ears for signs of frostbite, but once Jacob had taken Adam upstairs to put him to bed, Josie retreated to her guestroom, buried her face in a pillow, and sobbed for a full ten minutes. When Jacob had come in and told her that Adam was out of danger and sleeping soundly, Josie had slipped into Adam's room and sat on the floor next to his bed for three hours until he awoke. Not being allowed to sit with him the second day had been agony for the nine-year-old, and when Adam now triumphantly descended the stairs and entered the sitting room where Josie was reading, she squealed with delight and leapt into his arms. Jacob followed Adam down the stairs and smiled as his daughter wrapped her skinny arms around Adam's neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

"You're all better?" she asked, her voice muffled by Adam's shirt.

"Good as new!" he announced cheerily. He held Josie close for a moment before swinging her to the ground and depositing her lightly on her feet. "So first thing tomorrow, we can start having fun."

Josie grinned. She and Adam had been exchanging letters all semester, planning out what they would do together while they were in Boston for the holidays. Adam had promised to take her on a tour of the historical sites she had been learning about in school, and Josie hoped that she could persuade him to take her tobogganing.

"Why wait until tomorrow?" she chirped.

"Because it's only a couple hours until suppertime, silly," Adam replied, ruffling Josie's dark hair. "As soon as we got anywhere, it would be time to come home."

Josie stuck her lower lip out in a mock pout, which made Adam smile. She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the settee where she had been reading, and the cousins plopped onto the burgundy-velvet seat together. Adam picked the day's newspaper up off the coffee table and tried to read, but no matter how much he squirmed, he could not get comfortable. The cushions on Rachel's sofa were plush enough, but the high, wooden back was unpadded and nearly perpendicular to the seat. Adam never figured out how Josie could sit there and read for hours on end. Given his druthers, he would sprawl out on the floor in front of the fireplace; Aunt Rachel's plush Oriental rugs were much more comfortable than her settees. But had Rachel caught Adam lounging thus in the middle of her ornate sitting room in the Stoddard family home in Boston's finest neighborhood, Adam would have had to ask Jacob to please reattach his head.

Adam was proud that after retiring as a ship's captain, his maternal grandfather had done so well for himself as the owner of his own shipping line, but he did wish that Rachel had not insisted the family abandon its modest home on the waterfront, in which Adam himself had been born, for this mansion in Beacon Hill. Ben had been dirt poor for many of the early years of Adam's life; he had had plenty of money when he left Boston for the West, but it ran out quickly. By the time they were only halfway across the continent, Ben had often gone to bed hungry, having spent what little money he could scrounge up to feed Adam. Even now, after establishing one of the largest ranches west of the Rocky Mountains, Ben Cartwright and his sons lived in a small, four-room house, where the three boys shared a bedroom. Now in his third year studying architecture at Harvard, Adam had nearly finished his design for an enormous new ranch house that he would construct when he returned home, but he intended it to still be a homey sort of place, where a man did not have to worry about tracking in dirt after a long day in the saddle. Adam was proud of his New England roots, but he did miss the simplicity of life back home.

When the doorbell rang a short time later, Adam leapt to his feet, only too happy to have an excuse to abandon the settee. But as he strode past Hannah, who was sitting in a nearby armchair, she grabbed his arm and shook her head, pointing toward the sofa to indicate that he should sit back down. Adam sighed. He had forgotten that in Boston's high society it was uncouth to answer one's own door. He trudged back to the settee and dropped back onto the cushion next to Josie. He could only pray that whoever was at the door would give him a reason to get up.

Adam's prayers were answered.

No sooner had he recommenced his uncomfortable perusal of the day's news than Rachel's butler stepped into the sitting room and announced "Mr. John Quincy Adams the Second" as he held out a small white calling card on a silver tray.

Rachel, who was also sitting in an armchair in the sitting room while she worked on a piece of embroidery, let out an audible gasp at the familiar name. Her hands immediately flew to her hair, and she patted her graying coiffure all over to make sure not a strand was out of place. Hannah's and Jacob's eyes widened, but neither of them spoke. Adam's face, however, lit up brightly.

"Adams!" he exclaimed as he once more jumped from the settee and made to exit the sitting room. This time, however, it was the butler who stopped him.

"No need to get up, sir," the man intoned slowly as he held up a hand. "I shall escort the gentleman in here."

Adam hung his head and plodded back to the settee once again.

"I thought he was dead!" Josie piped up, a bit too loudly; her voice bounced out of the sitting room and echoed down the hallway toward the entrance to the house. Hannah and Jacob bit back smiles as Rachel cringed. She opened her mouth to chastise her niece for poor manners, but Adam jumped in first.

"You're thinking of the first John Quincy Adams, our sixth president," he told Josie. "And you're right; he died last year. But this is John Quincy Adams the Second. He's the president's grandson."

"And President John Adams's great-grandson," Josie added.

"You got it." Adam grinned at his sharp little cousin. "And a good friend of mine from school." He gazed around at the awed expression on the faces of the other adults in the room and added, "Who, apparently, I failed to mention."

As they waited for the butler to escort the young Mr. Adams into the sitting room, Adam quickly explained how he had met the presidential descendent. Per Adams family tradition, John Quincy II had been sent to college young – he was still three weeks from his sixteenth birthday when school commenced in September – and on the first day of the term, Adam had spotted the slight young man staring agog at the classroom buildings. He had recognized instantly that the boy was hopelessly lost and had shown him the way to his first class. In a hurry to reach his own class on time, Adam had not caught the boy's name, but the young man had sought him out later that day to thank him for his help. It had actually been quite funny. Over cups of coffee in the College Commons, John had admitted that he had tracked Adam down by asking his classmates if they knew the dark-haired senior who spoke without a New England accent. They had enjoyed a good laugh, and as the semester progressed, Adam fell into his natural big-brother role and looked out for John, checking in with him every so often to see how the young man was getting along at school and swapping stories about their younger siblings – John was the second of seven children – and in Adam's case, Josie, too. When John had learned that Adam would be spending Christmas in Boston, he had offered to drop in and say hello. The Adams family home was in nearby Quincy, and John often went into Boston, especially during the holiday season.

Rachel was beaming by the time Adam finished his tale, and Adam could tell she was pleased that he had befriended a member of such a prominent family. She had no time to congratulate him, however, because just then, John Quincy Adams II stepped into the room behind the butler.

He was a slim young man with close-cropped brown hair, a strong brow and jaw, and deep-set brown eyes. Though a good five inches shorter than Adam, who had topped out at just over six feet, John carried himself confidently with squared shoulders and a decisive stride. He was dressed like a true Victorian gentleman in neat black trousers, vest, and morning coat, all made of the most luxurious wool. Adam assumed the fine wool overcoat, silk gloves, and black silk top hat the young man typically wore had already been taken by the butler and stored in the hall closet. Rachel smiled approvingly as the entire family leapt to its feet to greet their guest.

Adam strode across the sitting room, grateful that he was finally allowed off of the settee. "Adams!" he greeted his friend, who accepted his outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. "So glad you could stop by."

"Good to see you, Cartwright," John replied, grinning broadly. "I was very pleased to catch you at home. I hope this is not an inconvenient time?"

"Not at all. Please, meet my family." Adam beckoned his aunts, uncle, and cousin to come over. John bowed formally to Rachel and Hannah as Adam introduced them, and he shook hands with Jacob.

"And this must be Miss Josephine," John said, turning his bright smile on Josie. He bowed low to the little girl, who giggled and, much to everyone's surprise and amusement, executed a flawless curtsey.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Rachel whispered delightedly to Hannah.

"You sure don't look like the president," Josie blurted out, wrinkling her nose.

"And then that mouth," Rachel muttered under her breath.

To Rachel's great relief, John threw his head back and let loose a burst of mirth.

"And am I ever glad!" he laughed, running a hand through his short brown locks. "My grandfather started losing his hair at the age of twenty-one! I hope to hold onto mine a bit longer than that."

Josie giggled again and decided she liked Adam's schoolmate.

"Anyway, Cartwright," John continued, turning back to Adam, "I stopped in to see if you and the young lady would like to accompany myself and three of my siblings on a tobogganing excursion tomorrow."

"Would we ever!" Josie exclaimed as her face split in a wide smile.

"Josephine!" Hannah chastised. "Mr. Adams was not speaking to you!" Hannah tolerated a good number of behavioral faux pas, but she would not stand for her daughter to interrupt a guest.

Josie's cheeks reddened, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. She had not meant to be rude; her excitement had simply gotten the better of her.

"I apologize, Mr. Adams," she mumbled.

"Not at all," John assured her. "So, what do you say, Cartwright? Have the same enthusiasm as your young cousin here?"

Josie cast Adam a pleading gaze, and he chuckled.

"Not quite, but I think if I refuse she'll never speak to me again," he answered. "So, yes!"

Josie cheered for joy and caught Adam up in a big hug around the waist. He stumbled two steps to the left as Josie's attack caught him off guard, and John reached out and steadied him with a hand on his arm.

"Wonderful!" the younger man exclaimed. "I will be bringing two of my younger brothers and my little sister, Mary." He turned to Josie. "How old are you, Miss Cartwright?"

"I am nine years and two and a half months old, Mr. Adams," Josie replied sweetly.

"Perfect." John smiled at her. "Little Mary is only four years old, but Henry is eleven, and Arthur is eight, so you fall right between them."

"Wow, that is a lot of brothers and sisters," Josie remarked.

"And that is not all of them," John told her. "I have an older sister and two more younger brothers."

Josie's wide eyes said everything her mouth could not formulate words for. She had thought that Adam had a big family, what with two brothers, and she could not wrap her young brain around the idea of having four brothers and two sisters.

"I should be heading home, I am afraid," John said. "But we shall see you in the morning, Cartwright. Shall we meet atop Flagstaff Hill on the Common about nine o'clock?"

Adam agreed, and John said his farewells to the family. Rachel smiled warmly at the young man and told him that he must come for dinner some evening. John said he would like that very much and would look for Rachel's invitation. Then, shaking Adam's hand a final time, he followed the butler out of the sitting room.

When she heard the front door latch behind John, Josie squealed with delight once more and caught Adam up in another exuberant hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she shrieked.

Hannah laughed at her daughter's reaction, but when she kept laughing a bit longer than the situation warranted, Jacob asked her what was so funny.

"Only a Cartwright could befriend a descendent of two presidents and rather than being offered a job in politics get invited outside to play!" she exclaimed before dissolving into giggles once more.

"At least we know how to have fun," Jacob quipped as he tweaked his wife's cheek.

Adam smiled at the exchange. He loved watching his aunt and uncle interact; it was like having two parents again. He had adored his father's second and third wives. Both women had mothered the young Adam like he was their own son, and he had mourned their deaths every bit as much as his father and brothers had. Ben did his best to be both mother and father to his sons, but there was something comforting about having a true mother in the home. Jacob and Hannah together were complete, and though Adam would never admit it aloud, being with his aunt on school holidays made him feel safer somehow. He had even caught himself once or twice imagining that Jacob and Hannah were his parents and Josie truly his little sister, and he wondered what his life would have been like had his mother not died. He knew his father still would have taken the family west, but perhaps Ben and Elizabeth would have had more children along the way – little brothers and sisters with dark, wavy hair and hazel eyes like Adam's. He loved his actual younger brothers, Hoss and Little Joe, but growing up, Adam had craved a family member who looked like him. He, Hoss, and Little Joe had all managed to favor their respective mothers, and people had to take them at their word that they were brothers. He often marveled that he and his brothers could look so dissimilar while he and Josie were like long-lost siblings.

"You are going to love Flagstaff Hill, Adam!" Josie crowed, breaking Adam's reverie. "It is the best hill in the city for tobogganing!" Adam grinned at her and ruffled her hair as Jacob leaned in close to his ear.

"You'll be sure to dress warmly," his uncle muttered.

Adam rolled his eyes skyward and let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, sir," he replied sheepishly.