Two Hearts Broken

Part 1

Great Expectations

One - Lessons from the Woods

"We're lost!" Melinda pointed to the object of her frustration. "We've passed this same tree at least three times now. I know it's the same one because it's got some sort of knotty growth coming out the side."

Melinda and Adam Cartwright had taken a buggy ride a few miles outside Boston to find the perfect picnic spot. Their jobs and life kept them busy and surrounded by people all week, so Adam had suggested they go somewhere that no one would find them for a couple of hours.

"We're not lost." Adam put an arm around his wife's shoulder and pulled her close. "There's lot of trees that have similar shapes, but I guarantee it's the first time we've come upon this one."

She pulled away as she let her lips fall into a pout. "I'm a city girl. What do I know about finding my way through a forest? I just wanted a spring picnic; you suggested that we find some secluded meadow by a stream to have it. But we've been walking for hours and I'm pretty sure we're lost. You just won't admit it."

"You're exaggerating, my love." He set their picnic basket down and pulled her near again, kissing the top of her head. "We've been walking for ten minutes at the most. You love to walk at home. Sometimes we're out for hours and you don't complain."

Melinda wrapped her arms around Adam's waist and laid her head on his chest. "At home I know where I'm going and how to get back. I can't see where we're headed here. Everything looks the same and the path seems to go in circles. I'm uneasy, so it probably seems like we've been walking longer."

"C'mon." He took her hand and led her along the deer path they'd been following for another 100 feet where they broke free of the woods into a small lea, bordered by a pool in the turn of a meandering creek. Adam pointed toward the clearing and proclaimed, "Tada!"

"I should have known that you had it all figured out." She saluted him. "I keep forgetting that you're an expert in these sorts of things. There's so much of your life that I don't know about, Adam. I think we'll have to visit the Ponderosa soon so I can see how you lived during the years we were apart." After kissing his cheek she walked away to find the best place to lay their blankets.

They had their lunch while listening to gurgle of the stream and the sounds of the woods. At first she tensed at every rustle or croak, receiving her husband's head shake and chuckle for each terrified look or shiver.

"This is nothing, honey." He tried to sound encouraging. "Here it's just toads and gnats, and a few harmless critters off in the woods. Out west we had mountain lions and coyotes." Adam laughed as he thought back to his days sleeping around campfires under the stars. "It was always interesting to wake out of a dead sleep because a yapping coyote pack was celebrating a kill. Even better was to be walking in a canyon and hear the yowl of a cougar echoing from the ledge just over your shoulder. Those were sounds that could make the bravest man's stomach…and other body parts clench."

"Did you ever get used to it?" she asked as her eyes widened.

"Sure. Well, maybe not used to it, but over time you learn to distinguish whether it was just noise or meant danger."

"Yet you've told me how much loved those times out in the wild. I don't understand how you could love something that had so much unknown danger."

Adam put the remnants of their lunch back into the basket and then scooted next to his wife, wrapping her in his arms. "There's unknown threat everywhere when you think about it. Some dangerous things have fur, teeth and claws, while other dangerous things can look pretty ordinary—like people. In the end they can both do a lot of damage if you aren't careful. If you're smart and stay out of its way, an animal will usually keep its distance. What you can't predict or control is what a person will do."

"You're being pretty philosophical, my dear. I like it." She reached up to stroke his cheek and smiled wickedly. "I bet I can predict what you'd do if given the right encouragement."

"Oh, yeah? What sort of encouragement are you speaking of?"

"We're alone out here, we have two perfectly fine blankets and I'm getting warm and sleepy." She fanned herself with her hand. "Aren't you a little warm and sleepy too?"

His smile grew as he kicked off his boots. "I am in fact very warm. Perhaps we could shed a bit of clothing and wade in the stream? It's too cold to swim yet, but sticking our feet in would be refreshing. If anything gets wet, it will dry while we take a nap, wrapped up in our perfectly fine blankets."

Her eyes rolled as she sighed. "If that's as creative as you can be, then I predict that a toe-dip and a nap are all you shall have."

Adam winked as he took Melinda's foot to remove her shoe. His eyebrows rose and he grinned wickedly when he reached under her petticoats to caress her leg as he rolled her stocking down. "Perhaps I forgot to mention what I intend to do between the wading and the nap."

They awoke a few hours later as the arcing son left them shaded and chilly. Adam brushed back some wayward wisps of hair that had fallen onto Melinda's face and raised her chin to kiss her. "We should get going before the sun starts to set."

"I guess so," she said, snuggling in closer and finding a comfortable spot on his shoulder to nestle.

He stroked her cheek as he said, "As long as we're not moving just yet, I'd like to ask a question."

"Is something bothering you?"

"No, not bothering me. It's more that I'm wondering..."

"Well, out with it," she teased. "You won't get the answer until you actually ask."

"Um…well…I…"

"Say it, Adam." She propped herself up on her elbow. "You never stammer, so that fact that you are is making me think this is something awful."

"All right." He took a deep breath. "Is it possible that you're expecting a child?"

She bolted to a sitting position. "Do you think I'm getting fat?"

Adam's eyes formed distinct circles as his brows retreated toward his hairline. "I ask if you might be carrying a child and you're first worry is that I think you're gaining weight?"

"Am I?" she asked as she struggled to control her tears.

"Of course you aren't. You're as beautiful and slim as you've always been. It's just that…"

"That what?" she asked while eyeing him warily.

"Well…we've been married for almost ten months. In that time, we've been…ah…together every night except for a few days some months back…and…I…ah…was wondering if that might mean you're expecting."

"Oh!" Melinda's mouth gaped as she thought through what he had said. "Oh my, I hadn't considered that. I suppose it's possible, but I'm not like most women."

"Huh?" Adam returned her surprised look with a questioning one.

"You know," she was stammering now, "ah…biblically, like in Leviticus…or maybe medically would describe it better. There's always been long gaps between…you know…so I didn't think about the fact that it might indicate something different…something important now that I'm married."

Adam's, "Oh, I see," held a man's bewilderment over such topics. "At least I think I do. Maybe you should go see Sam and find out what he has to say."

She lay back down next to him. "Wow. I consider myself to be a smart woman so imagine how foolish I feel right now for not considering that I could be…" Her eyes were bright as she looked up at her husband. "It would be wonderful if it was true."

He hugged her tightly, "Yes it would be." They held each other for a little longer before Adam declared that it was time to go. "C'mon, love, I'll have no trouble finding the way back in daylight, but it gets harder at dusk."

"You're sure you know the way?" she asked as they donned their foot apparel. "Maybe we should have left a trail of bread crumbs like in Hansel and Gretel."

Adam's laugh echoed in the quiet glade. "You know what happened to that trail. I could have run a string if I'd known you had concerns." He folded the blankets and picked up the basket as he led Melinda toward the woods. "You'll just have to trust me. I won't let you come to harm."

She tugged at his arm until he stopped. "I do trust you in every way. But it's like you said earlier; it's what's out there that I don't know about that frightens me." She chuckled tightly. "There aren't coyotes in this part of the country, are there?"

"Nah," he said, taking her hand while turning away to grin. "Don't worry about coyotes…it's the bears you have to watch for around here.

Two - The Doctors are In

Melinda left work early on Monday to stop by Massachusetts General. Samuel Green, M.D., had cared for both of them just prior to their wedding. She'd been shot trying to escape from her kidnappers, and Adam had experienced nearly died from an illness that had plagued him while he and his father had planned her rescue. He'd taken them both on as his patients after that, and they'd become friends as well.

Dr. Green rose from his desk as she was led into his office. "I was told you were here to make an appointment, Melinda, but the nurse said she thought you seemed ill-at-ease so I had her squeeze you in." The change in his voice indicated his concern. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine, Sam," she reassured, "it's just that Adam brought something up that I had to admit I wasn't sure about."

He smiled as he teased, "Now what are you and Adam questioning? You two seem pretty sure about everything."

She looked down at her hands as they twisted at the fabric of her dress. "Adam asked me if I was expecting." She raised her eyes to meet his, "And I honestly didn't have an answer."

Sam nodded. "I understand. Most women aren't sure the first time, and in your case it could be even harder to know. I'm assuming that your monthly times are still irregular?"

"Yes."

"And the last one was…?"

"Over three months back."

Dr. Green took a more detailed history and then suggested, "I'm going to have another doctor do your examination, Melinda. He's a specialist in this field and since you have a few factors that might make a pregnancy a little more difficult, I think it best to consult him right away."

Adam was working through a complicated set of chords on his guitar. He'd come home to an empty house and had used the time alone to practice the fingering for an upcoming concert with the Boston Symphonic Choir. It would be his second performance since being accepted into the group a year ago when he'd moved to Boston from Nevada, and this time they were doing a variety of folk songs. When the director had announced the theme he'd also asked for volunteers to accompany the choir on guitar, feeling this would complement the songs better than a traditional orchestra. Adam hadn't been sure that his skill level would be adequate, but after an audition and competitions between several hopefuls, Adam had been chosen along with four others.

He'd taught himself to play guitar when he'd returned home after college and had become a competent player. But he'd gotten a little rusty since the height of his home-schooling efforts. Now that he was practicing again, he was able to keep up with the other guitarists chosen, and the numbers were coming together nicely. He enjoyed this sort of music since it reminded him of picking and singing with friends back home. The preparation was "easy" when contrasted with the long hours of vocal strengthening he'd had to do as a soloist for the difficult Mozart Requiem at the previous concert. This time his fingers were getting the workout instead of his voice.

He looked up as he heard the front door open and smiled to greet his wife. He suspected what had made her late and those suspicions were strengthened as he realized that her cheeks held the color and dewiness of recently shed tears. Since those tears did not seem to be accompanied by a look of joy, he also assumed the import of news she'd received. He wanted to run and put his arms around her, but something in the way she stood: her chin and shoulders raised with as much dignity as she could muster, let him understand that she was not ready to be consoled or even to give voice to her thoughts just yet. He said only, "I'm glad you're home. I missed you singing along with my fumbling attempts to play these songs."

Drawing a deep breath, she forced a smile. "I heard you from outside and thought you sounded good. In fact you've mastered the one you were working on." Her smile returned to the haunted look she'd had when she'd entered.

He chuckled. "I thank you for the encouragement, my love, but you didn't hear the whole thing. I'm afraid your assessment of my mastery is premature." He waited for her to say more. Instead, she removed her hat and walked to the table, flipped through the correspondence he'd set there earlier, and finally sat down, letting her arms drop to her sides. Sensing that she was ready to talk, he moved quickly to kneel beside her and took her hands in his, gently prodding, "Were you able to see Sam today?"

She nodded while offering nothing further.

"And?"

Her answer was given in a barely-visible shake of her head from left to right.

He drew her close. "It's all right, Melinda."

Tears began to journey down her cheeks like the first trickle of rain moving down a parched hillside. "I shouldn't grieve losing what wasn't there to begin with, but I feel so sad."

"I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm so sorry." He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

Resting her forehead on his, she said softly, "Don't apologize. The fact that I'm sad doesn't mean that it was a bad question. It was important to learn what I did today."

"Are you able to tell me about it?" He pulled a chair close and sat knee to knee as he took her hands again.

"Sam had me see Dr. Schmidt, an obstetrician…a doctor who takes care of women who are having babies. He explained that while all doctors are trained to deliver babies, Dr. Schmidt one of a few now who specialize in the process of having them."

"I haven't heard about that, but it would seem a good thing."

"Neither Sam nor Dr. Schmidt feels that it will become a thriving specialty in medicine, yet they think it should be."

Easing her back to his concerns, he urged, "What did he have to say about you?"

After a deep sigh, Melinda explained, "First of all, he said I'm not expecting…at least there's no indication of it at this time. But there's good news too. Both doctors feel that there's no reason that we can't have children." She smiled as she remembered part of her conversation with the medical men. "Sam said to explain it to you in words you'd understand. He said that statistically we are as able to conceive a child as any other married couple. Our opportunities may come less frequently, but the odds of conceiving a child when all parts of the equation are correct, are good."

Adam nodded and chuckled. "That makes sense. Did they say anything else?"

Melinda's smile retreated again. "Dr. Schmidt said that most women start having children when they're 20 and the fact that I'm already 34 might mean a more difficult time of it. Yet he was optimistic that all would go well. He'll watch me very carefully when it happens."

"I'm glad about that."

She placed her cheek against Adam's and wrapped her arms around his neck as she completed her story. "Sam took me aside before I left and said that if being in love was all it took, we should have a house full of kids. In the meantime, he said we should just keep doing what we have been and relax about becoming parents. His thinks that the more tense a couple gets about not having children, the more likely it becomes that they won't have them. He can't prove it scientifically, but it seems to be the case."

"I can see that. Being unduly nervous can be a detriment in most things." Adam pulled his wife onto his lap and sighed just as Melinda had done earlier. He found that he was experiencing the same sadness that she had described, yet was satisfied that life would have to run its course like always. "Did they tell you what to look for…I mean are there things that would give us a clue when it does happen?"

"Dr. Schmidt said that I would probably feel sick-to-my-stomach on a regular basis, but that doesn't always happen either. Eventually I'll notice changes in my body." Her tears began in earnest as she covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry Adam. I know you want children. It never occurred to me that this 'condition' I've had all my life would mean that we might not have them. You must be so disappointed in me."

"Don't even think such a thing!" He turned her face and made her look at him. "I married you because I couldn't live without you. Our children will come when they're supposed to. It will happen, Melinda."

He held her until her tears stopped and she was able to smile weakly again before he asked, "Are you hungry? I imagine Abel and Sadie are waiting on us for dinner."

Melinda had inherited the house next to Abel's from her aunt several years back, and she and Adam had lived there since their marriage. Around the time of the Cartwright wedding, Abel had surprised everyone by announcing his intention to marry his long-time housekeeper, Sadie McIntyre. Since Ben Cartwright had been in Boston for his son's wedding, the older couple had said their "I dos" a few days after Adam and Melinda so he could attend before heading home. The arrangement with the two generations of newlyweds being in close proximity had worked well in the months since their marriages. With both Adam and Melinda at their jobs all day, they joined the Stoddards for dinner on weeknights, and they reciprocated by hosting the meals at their home on the weekends.

Melinda's brow wrinkled in concern. "Do you think they'd mind if we didn't go over tonight? They're wise enough to sense that something isn't right. I know they won't pry, but I don't want them to worry either."

He had her stand, and then rose and replaced his chair at the table. "I'll run over and tell them that we won't be coming. Then we'll make something here and have a quiet evening."

By the time Adam returned from Abel's, Melinda had changed into a house dress and was reading a letter that had arrived with the day's post. She looked up as she heard the squeak of the back door hinges and saw that he was carrying a tray draped with a large cotton towel. "Looks like we won't have to cook after all," she said appreciatively while inhaling the aroma that had entered along with her husband. "If my nose is working right, that's Sadie's fried chicken. I wasn't hungry before, but one whiff of that and my mouth is watering."

Adam laughed, "How do you think I felt carrying this over from their house. I almost had to stop at the bench in our yard and dig in." He noticed which letter she was holding as he set the tray on the table. "Did you read the letter from my father?"

"I did." Melinda smiled as she pointed to a section of Ben's scrawl. "This story about your brothers was funny. Is Little Joe always able to get Hoss to do whatever he wants him to?"

Returning from the kitchen with silverware and glasses, Adam chuckled, "Pretty much. Hoss will always resist at first but he usually yields to Little Joe's way of thinking. This time Hoss just ended up with poison ivy in some very uncomfortable places for his efforts. That's not too bad when compared with some of the other predicaments he's gotten into at Joe's urging."

"I hope I get to meet those two soon." Melinda drew in a deep breath as she lifted the cloth from the tray and set out the plates of food. "Mmm. This does smell wonderful. Do you think Abel and Sadie were disappointed that we didn't go over?"

Surveying the table, Adam realized they still needed napkins and the water pitcher and went back for those before sitting down next to Melinda. "You do realize that Abel is always one step ahead of us. When I got there, he was slipping on his jacket to come over here and suggest that they send dinner over for us tonight.""

"Do they have plans for the evening?"

"No. Grandfather said he'd been looking out the window when the cab dropped you off. He realized that you'd gotten home later than usual and thought you looked spent. He suspected we'd appreciate a quiet night in our own house."

Melinda reached over to touch Adam's arm. "Your grandfather is a wise man."

"That he is."

The couple dug into the mashed potatoes, green beans and chicken with gusto while saying little more than, "please pass the salt" and exchanging a wing for a drumstick. When she could eat no more, Melinda leaned back against her chair and sighed. "There's nothing like a good meal to raise a person's spirits." Adam's agreement was given in a satisfied grunt and nod as he chewed.

While her husband continued to eat, she closed her eyes and replayed the events of the past few days. Her conclusions made her sit forward again as she turned to face Adam. "I think it best if we just go on doing as we have been like Sam said, and I'll let you know when I think there might be news about any Cartwright offspring. If I keep thinking about it, I'll constantly be holding my breath."

Adam nodded and said, "That sounds like the best plan," before inserting the last forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Melinda eyed him oddly as her head tipped, and she finally remarked, "I still can't believe I hadn't realized that ordinary occurrences before we were married, might not be as ordinary anymore. What made you ask about it? I didn't think men paid much attention to such things."

After a swig of water he was able to say, "I wouldn't have asked about it except that Frank and I were talking the other day." He bit off a piece of thigh meat and began chewing as he looked at his wife. He suspected that something about his last comment had not pleased her and didn't have to wait long to confirm his theory.

"What?" The elongation of both the "wh" and "t" in her question left little need for interpretation. "Why were you and Frank talking about my fertility? There is no circumstance where that would be an appropriate conversation!"

His wife's face reddened and her lips closed to a tight pucker, making Adam wonder whether there might actually be steam exiting her ears. He had never seen her look this angry, and he tried to swallow so he could explain. His rushed efforts resulted in a fit of choking as the chicken stuck in his throat. "It's not…" He coughed as he struggled to breathe.

"It's not what?" Her tone was harsh. Melinda had no patience at that moment—not even for a blocked windpipe.

Adam's face was now as red as his wife's as he continued to choke out his explanation. "Not a conversation…just a question…no, it was more the Frank was wondering…."

"So Frank came up to you, slapped your back, handed you a cigar and said, 'by the way, son, have you gotten Melinda in a family way yet?' That doesn't make me feel any better."

After refilling his water glass twice and downing the contents, he was finally able to breathe without setting off a paroxysm. "Relax, honey. It's not what you're imagining." He cleared his throat and tried to draw a deeper breath, while noticing that Melinda's foot was now tapping as her fingers drummed on the table. "Late last week, Frank said that he'd been mulling over a situation for us."

"For us?" Her fingers drummed harder.

"Yes, and then he said that he'd mentioned it to Marian and she'd cautioned that he shouldn't get too excited until he made sure we wanted to go and that there was nothing happening that might keep us here. Adam's breathing settled into a regular pattern as Melinda's hand came to a rest on the tablecloth.

"And that's when you told him I might have a bun in the oven as they say, but that I was probably too naïve to realize it?" Her fingers picked up the cadence again.

"What?" He considered her last statement again. "No! I didn't say a thing. Frank explained that there is a major construction project involving several English shipyards up for bid in England. Our London office sent the specifications and plans for us to look at, and Frank wants to make an offer. If Wadsworth Engineering is chosen for any part of it, he'd like to send me there to learn how to do this new kind of harboring. He wondered if we might agree to move there for a year or two and he said I should see what you thought."

Melinda's anger dissolved as she considered Adam's explanation. "What you're saying is that after Frank mentioned it, you began to wonder if there was a reason we might not be able to go right now."

"Exactly!" He raised his arms in emphasis. "I would never discuss our private matters with anyone—not even Frank or Marian. I mentioned it to you only because I didn't want to bring up the move until I knew whether you were…ah…we might be…"

She cut into his stammering, "How soon would we have to leave?"

Adam smiled with relief. "First we have to get the job, and then it would still be a couple of months before I'd need to be on site." He reached for her hand. "Would you be interested?"

"I would love to travel to England. Perhaps we could even get across to France and Austria while we're there." She brought his hands to her lips and kissed them. "I'm sorry for my strong reaction, Adam. I suppose my feelings about this are still a little raw. Tell Frank that we are interested in his proposition. If circumstances change we'll talk it over with Sam and Dr. Schmidt." Melinda grinned for the first time since arriving home. "In fact, I'm pretty sure women can have babies in England too."