The Root of All Evil

by Carla K

A mysterious woman and the reading of a will spells trouble for Joe Cartwright.

THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL

A Bonanza Story by Carla Keehn

This story is written for entertainment purposes only, not profit, and is not meant to infringe on any copyrights.

* * * *

The room felt hot and uncomfortable to Ben Cartwright as he shifted slightly in his seat. At the moment, Cartwright wasn't sure which was worse: the stuffiness in the room or the monotone voice that boomed out at him from the front of the room. He glanced next to him and saw his sixteen year old son, Jamie, pull at the tie that he had been forced to put on that morning.

The silver haired man leaned over and whispered. "Shouldn't be much longer, son."

The youth rolled his eyes and nodded silently. Cartwright's gaze drifted past Jamie to his older son, Joseph. Ben saw the look of boredom on Joe's face too and sighed. He could hardly blame them for the way they felt. According to his pocket watch, the Boston lawyer had been speaking for over an hour as he informed the Cartwrights, as well as the others gathered, of the terms of the will of the late Ferris Callahan.

The lawyer paused and gave the sea of faces around him a pointed look. "That brings us to the division of the main assets of the estate. Before I continue, I wish to remind all of you that these are Mr. Callahan's last thoughts and wishes. Please bear that in mind as I read."

The lawyer's words had an effect on the gathering as a new ripple of interest in the proceedings spread through the room.

"To my grandson, Jamie Hunter Cartwright, I leave all monetary assets and possessions not stipulated for division elsewhere in this document, as well as the incorporated entity known as the Callahan Clipper Ship Company. This bequest is conditional upon my grandson making the City of Boston his primary residence, spending no less than four months out of the year in said city . . ."

Jamie looked up at his father, his eyes wide in alarm. "Pa . . .?"

The looks on the other faces in the room told Ben that he and Jamie were not the only ones surprised by the will. "Ssh, it will be all right, son. We need to hear the rest . . ."

The hissing of low whispers broke the deadly silence that had hung over the room. The lawyer stopped and gave those assembled a hard look. "I refuse to continue until there is quiet in this room!"

Expressions of surprise gave way to thinly concealed looks of anger. After several minutes, order was restored and the lawyer cleared his throat before continuing.

"As I was saying - - The above named heir must make the City of Boston his primary residence, spending no less than four months out of the year in said city. During those months of residency all decisions regarding Callahan Clipper Ship Company, as well as the overall welfare of my grandson, shall be made by the law firm of Simmons, Abernathy and Erickson until such time as my grandson reaches the age of maturity. Should my grandson fail to comply with the terms as stated or die prior to reaching adulthood, all assets, possessions and holdings will pass to my ward, Jeannine Wallace . . ."

The lawyer stopped speaking and tossed the document on the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes the reading of the division of property. The rest of the will covers those gifts that the deceased made for long time employees and friends, outside of the family."

Jamie grabbed his father's arm. Ben felt the boy's fingers dig into his skin. "I - I don't want it, Pa - - I don't want live here!."

Ben rose to his feet and watched as several of the relatives cornered Callahan's lawyer and began loudly arguing the points of the will with the helpless man. Others had moved off and resumed their whispering, casting unfriendly glances at the Cartwrights.

Ben's eyes studied the melee with concern. "I think this would be a good time for you and Jamie to leave, Joe," he commented, leaning closer to his sons.

Joe shook his head. "I don't like the looks of the way this is going, Pa. You might need help."

Ben shook his head adamantly. "I think this would be best handled alone, son." He reached into his vest, and slipped a folded piece of paper in Joe's hand. "Here's the list of things that Hop Sing said he needed. Get as much of it as you can taken care of while I deal with things here. The sooner we get all this settled, the sooner we can be on our way back home."

"Yes, sir," Joe said, tugging on his brother's sleeve. "Come on, Jamie, let's go."

"But, Pa . . ." Jamie stammered, pulling away from Joe.

Ben put a hand on his son's shoulder to strengthen him. "You go on with Joe. Everything will work out fine."

Joe patted the boy's shoulder reassuringly. "C'mon, little brother . . ." Joe took a firm hold of Jamie's arm and began steering him towards the door.

Ben watched as his two sons made their way through the crowded room. The past few weeks had been an ordeal for the Cartwrights with the news of Ferris Callahan's unexpected passing and the sudden trip to Boston.

Suddenly, a voice at his side distracted him.

"What's the meaning of this, Cartwright?" The man blustered, giving the two men an angry look. "We need to have that boy here so we can settle things!"

"I disagree, Mr . . .?"

The stocky man looked at the Cartwrights with red-faced indignation. "Abernathy . . . Randall Abernathy."

Ben continued. "As I was saying, Mr. Abernathy, you requested that Jamie be present for the reading of the will, which he was. Anything else that needs to be worked out can be done between your firm and our lawyers in Virginia City."

"Virginia City? You're not seriously thinking of leaving before everything has been settled! I can understand that you might not feel comfortable with a member of my firm advising you, but there are other reputable attorneys in town which you could consult."

Ben took a deep breath: his patience with the blustery man was wearing thin. "A very generous offer, Mr. Abernathy," Cartwright continued, "but unnecessary. He picked up his hat from the chair. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some pressing business matters to take care of this afternoon. Good day."

Abernathy, eyes narrowed with suspicion, watched as the older man left the room. The lawyer,who had read the will, finally freed himself from the crowd that had gathered around and sidled up to Abernathy.

"There could be trouble brewing, Randall," Nathan Erickson said nervously as he loosened his tie. "If Cartwright's lawyer asks for an audit of the estate's assets, they'll find the shortfall; they'll know you and Jeannine were bilking the old man out of his money."

"I don't need you to tell me what a mess I'm in!" Abernathy stabbed a finger at Erickson. "I believed you and Jeannine when you told me the old man was drawing up a will in her favor. Why else do you think I got mixed up in this business!"

"I warned you and Jeannine many times to be more . . . shall we say discrete with your relationship," Erickson shot back quickly. " Obviously, the old man caught wind of some of the gossip that's been swirling around you two and changed the terms of the will."

"Callahan was an old fool!" Abernathy shot back in irritation. "If he'd only been kinder to Jeannine, given her what she wanted . . ."

Erickson laughed. "Callahan's not the only fool, Randall," he lectured. "Your neck is on the block now, the other partners and I were quite firm about that from the start. Given Jeannine's track record, I wouldn't expect her to stand by you through this."

"Drop it, Nathan! You don't understand Jeannine anymore than Callahan did." Abernathy hammered his fist against the chair. "We shouldn't be arguing with each other - Cartwright's the problem now. He and that kid of his won't be easy to get rid of."

Erickson chided his peer gently. "You are too high strung, Randall. Luckily, I've been looking out for you. Remember the guardianship clause? Naturally that was added at my urging," the man boasted proudly. "It certainly appealed to the old man's sadistic delight in tormenting people. Cartwright will never agree to give the firm any kind of guardianship, not after seeing the way he fought against Callahan's interference in the boy's adoption. No guardianship, no inheritance, the terms of the will are very clear."

"What if that lawyer of his in Virginia City finds a way around that clause?"

"In that case, it would be unfortunate if Mr. Cartwright and his sons should meet with some kind of accident during their journey home . . ." The man smiled. "Either way, Jeannine inherits the estate and the two of you will be able to carry on as before . . . after I receive my share of the money, of course."

"I like the way you think, Nate. All our problems would be taken care of."

He patted his partner on the back and pointed to the woman who sat huddled in a corner.

Her moist brown eyes were obviously garnering sympathy from the people around her. "Look at her, Randall. Jeannine's a fine little actress don't you think? In fact, I believe it would probably take very little effort on her part to convince Cartwright's older son that it would be in his family's best interests to waive any claim on Callahan's estate."

Abernathy's rage subsided. "If they waive the claim, there won't be anymore questions asked . . ." He shook his head. "You can't be sure she'll succeed."

"You of all people shouldn't underestimate Jeannine's many talents," Erickson replied. "If she can wring some kind of feeling out of Callahan's pack of greedy relatives and servants, she should have no problem at all dealing with the Cartwrights. The older one has the look of a real ladies man, he'll fall hard for sweet Jeannine, you just wait and see . . ."

* * * *

Later that night, Ben Cartwright read the note in his hand for the second time, then tossed it aside. He closed his eyes for a moment and began rubbing his throbbing head; it had been a long and difficult day.

His troubled thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Cartwright asked wearily.

"It's Joe, Pa." The door creaked. "Okay if I come in?"

"Of course, Joseph." He looked past his son expectantly. "Where's Jamie?"

"In the room, asleep. He's still pretty upset about everything that went on today."

"That's understandable. The visits we made here to see his grandfather were very hard on him. Ferris Callahan was not an easy man to get along with."

"Then why would he write a will like that, Pa? It doesn't make any sense to cut his ward out of the will in favor of a relative he barely knew."

"I'm not sure, Joe. I do know that Jamie never gave Callahan any reason to think that this was something he wanted. And that business about having to live in Boston - -How could that man think I would even give serious consideration to an arrangement like that?"

The worried father picked up the crumpled note and handed it to Joe. "Take a look at this."

"Two days . . ." Joe groaned. "Why wait two days to settle this? Why not have the meeting tomorrow and get it over with." He looked at his father in concern. "You okay, Pa?"

"Yes." Ben nodded. "Just tired; from traveling and now all of this."

"Look, Pa, why don't we just tell them that you'll never consent to the terms of the will? We know that Jamie doesn't care about inheriting anything from Callahan's estate. From the looks of it, there were quite a few other people there this morning who seemed mighty anxious to be remembered in that will."

"You noticed that too?" Ben commented. "The atmosphere in that room today reminded me of a business meeting rather than of a gathering of people who had recently lost a loved one." He shook his head. "Unfortunately, Joe, neither one of us can make that decision for Jamie."

"Why, Pa?"

"Just that, in spite of what we think about Ferris Callahan, he and this place is the only link that Jamie has left to his past. It's not up to us to decide for Jamie whether or not this inheritance is something that he wants."

"What happens, then, at that meeting?"

"I'm not sure yet . . ." Cartwright reached into his vest which he had carelessly tossed on the bed and pulled out his wallet. "Did you get those things that Hop Sing wanted?"

Joe nodded. "Some of them. We still have some things to pick up."

Ben nodded. "While you're doing that, Joe, I want you to go to the Express Office and make the arrangements for the trip home."

"For when, Pa?"

"At the end of the week, the earliest booking. I don't think any of us will feel comfortable until we're back at the Ponderosa." He took some money out of the wallet. "That should cover it. And be sure to send a wire to Hoss after you've finished, so he knows when to meet us."

"I'll take care of it." Joe folded up the money. "Pa, if you don't need me for a while, I'm going to go out, take a look around town."

"Have a good time, son. I think I'm going to stay up and read for a bit before turning in."

"Good night, Pa."

Downstairs, in the hotel lobby, the statuesque brunette spotted Joe Cartwright as he came down the grand staircase. Like a hunter admiring its prey, Jeannine took a moment to admire Joe's rugged features and muscular build appreciatively before moving towards him. He'll do nicely . . . she thought. Very nicely . . .

"Mr. Cartwright?"

Joe smiled at the bewitchingly attractive woman who stood in front of him. She looked familiar but Joe couldn't attach a name to the face. "Joe Cartwright, ma'am, at your service. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you before, Miss . . .?"

"Jeannine Wallace. No, we haven't met before, but I was at the reading of the will that you and your family attended today."

"Wallace . . .you're Mr. Callahan's ward."

"Yes . . ." She loosened the drawstring of her gold pearl bag and pulled out a lacy handkerchief. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. I'm still so upset over Uncle Ferris's death," she said, gently dabbing at her eyes. "Mr. Cartwright, if you're not busy, could I impose on you to take a lady to dinner? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Miss Wallace." He smiled at her with a twinkle in his eye. "At least not until the legal matters between our two families is settled."

"Well," she said teasingly as she stroked his arm, "I think that might be arranged sooner than you think . . . Joe. Are you sure I couldn't persuade you to join me for dinner?"

The touch of her hand sent a shockwave through him, causing Joe to push aside any misgivings he felt. Knowing how difficult the late Ferris Callahan had been to deal with, he felt sorry for this woman.

Captivated by her charm and the scent of her rose perfume, he turned and led Jeannine towards the hotel dining room . . .

* * * *

By the time they finished their meal, Joe Cartwright realized he was completely taken with Jeannine Wallace. Her charm and sophistication was a refreshing change from the rancher's daughters he usually courted in Virginia City.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activities for Joe as he and Jeannine spent every moment they could together. The sights and sounds of Boston, however, were lost on Joe as his thoughts became more and more absorbed on Jeannine.

He hardly saw his family at all those two days, leaving Ben and Jamie on their own to complete the preparations for the trip back to Virginia City.

On the Cartwright family's last night in Boston, it was well past midnight when Joe Cartwright and Jeannine Wallace left the hotel. He took her soft hand in his

as they strolled down the quiet streets towards the pier. Silently the two watched for a moment as the ships gently bobbed up and down in the rippling water.

"Such a beautiful night," Jeannine said softly.

"Yes, it is," Joe agreed. He drew her closer and looked into her warm brown eyes. "You're a very curious woman, Jeannine."

"Oh?" She said, giving him a questioning look. "I don't think I quite understand what you mean."

"Well, we've spent the past two days discussing everything except the solution to the problems between our two families."

"I see," she answered, smiling at him shyly. "Have I presumed too much on your gentlemanly manners?"

"Not at all." Joe gave her hand a light kiss. "I've enjoyed our time together very much. But this is my last night here. I just think that it's time that maybe we took care of business."

"You're right. of course." She broke free from his grasp for a moment, then turned back to face him. "I hoped that if I put it off long enough that the time for you to leave would never come . . ."

Jeannine took a deep breath. It was going to be harder than she thought to do

the job she was sent for. He's so handsome, so real in his feelings . . . Jeannine thought to herself. So unlike all the others . . . Her control of the situation was growing more tenuous each hour that she spent in Joe's company.

"Joe," she began hesitantly, "if you care about your brother at all, I beg you to do everything in your power to convince him to turn down this inheritance."

A sense of pain swept over him. She had teased and beguiled him for days; how could he have been so wrong about her feelings?

"So that's what the past few days has been about . . ." he said coldly, letting go of her hand. "I'm sorry, Miss Wallace - - I'm not interested in helping you get the money your after."

"No, you don't understand!" She choked back a sob. "That first day I saw you, I - I knew right away that you were a man who really cared about his family. I wanted to warn you - -" She took both of his hands in hers. "Oh, Joe, I'm afraid for your brother. He's so young, you don't understand - - living here will change him . . . Uncle Ferris's attorneys will make your brother into someone you won't recognize . . ." Her tear-filled eyes looked up at him in mute appeal. "Please, if you would just talk to your father, convince him to waive any claim on the estate . . ." She whispered, running her finger along the collar of his jacket. "Please . . .?"

Joe sighed. He was drowning in a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. Her honeyed words held him in thrall, making his family obligations seem less and less important by comparison.

"I know what you're thinking," she continued, her voice breaking, "that none of this is real, that I only care about the money and nothing else." She broke away from him and turned her back towards him. "But that's not true. I'll be leaving Boston in a couple of days, Joe. I came here with nothing and that's how I'll leave."

He looked at her in concern. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know. Anywhere, I suppose, as long as it's far away from this place." She turned and gave him a thin smile. "That's why I took a chance on talking to you. I know how Uncle Ferris's men operate - once the corruption starts, there won't be anything you or your father will be able to do to stop it. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about . . ."

So beautiful and so fragile . . . Joe thought as he wrapped his arms around her protectively and pulled her close. All right," he said softly, stroking her silky hair, "I'll talk to my father, tell him what you said."

"You believe me then?" She looked up at him hopefully.

He nodded. "Yes . . ." Joe pressed her delicate body against his. "I believe

you . . ."

"I knew you were a decent man," she whispered softly, looking at him invitingly. "I knew it . . ."

He lifted her chin and kissed her gently, at first. Jeannine looked at him, breathlessly; her eyes telling him that she wanted more. The insatiable furor she had started inside of him greedily demanded more. She shuddered beneath his touch as his lips brushed against her neck. Then he kissed her again, more urgently than before.

The intensity of the fever of excitement between them suddenly frightened her. I can't let things get out of control . . . I can't . . . Jeannine thought, forcing herself to break free from his embrace. "No . . ." she cried out. "I - I have

go . . ."

Joe looked at her in confusion and surprise. "Jeannine, what's wrong?"

"Nothing . . . I - I just have to go." The woman looked at him fearfully. "Remember what I said, Joe . . ."

She turned and ran off into the darkness.

"Jeannine! Wait!" Joe shouted to the receding figure.

Later, as Jeannine Wallace closed the front door of the imposing mansion that sat at the edge of the city, she heard a sarcastic voice taunt her.

"About time you got back . . ."

"Spying on me again, Randall?" She gave him a hard look. "I did what you wanted; that's all that matters, isn't it?"

"Only if Cartwright does what you told him."

"He said that he'd talk to his father - - I can't guarantee anything more." Clutching the thin wrap tightly around her, she moved towards the stairs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired. Good night, Randall."

In the safety of her room, she threw the purse and shawl on the dressing table, then took a good look at the face that stared back at her from the mirror. There's been so many men . . . she thought to herself. She had learned early in life how to use the beauty and charm she had been given to get what she wanted. And used it she had - - many times - - to reach the place where she was now. When her father died two years earlier, it had been so easy to work her way into the life of his business associate, Ferris Callahan. Frustrated by his failed attempt to bring his grandson permanently to Boston, Callahan had been ripe for the picking, just like all the others had been. But her conscience had never bothered her before, until now - -

Meanwhile, the ornate grandfather clock in the hotel lobby chimed three times as Joe climbed the stairs. He saw a dim glow of light peeking out from under the door of his father's room and paused. Not now . . . he thought, shaking his head. Not while he could still feel the touch of her warm body pressed tightly against his and the scent of her perfume still clung to his clothes.

Quietly, he slipped into his darkened room and slumped down on the bed, thinking about Jeannine and the fever she had ignited within him . . .

* * * *

Early the next morning, just as the last threads of darkness gave way to the coming dawn, Ben Cartwright stepped out of his room. Although he had retired early for the night, he hardly felt refreshed enough for the ordeals he knew were waiting for him that day.

He had only walked a few paces when he heard footsteps approaching. It was Joe, looking at him with a worried expression on his face.

"Pa, I was just coming to get you - - Jamie's gone."

"Gone?" An anxious feeling clutched at Ben. "Where?"

"I don't know. I went in to wake him for breakfast and found his bed empty."

Ben stepped into the room and stared at the empty bed.

Joe ran a hand through his tousled hair. He's spent a restless night tossing and turning as he wrestled with Jeannine's words and tried to sort out his feelings about the bewitching woman.

"This wouldn't have happened if you had just told those people yesterday that Jamie didn't want any part of that estate."

He gave his son a hard look. "What are you trying to say, Joseph?"

"Just that I don't trust those people we met yesterday. If just the thought of having to live here could make Jamie do something like this, what's going to happen to him if he really has to go through with it."

"There's plenty of time later to talk about that - we're wasting time standing around. You look up here, I'll check the lobby." Ben headed towards the stairs. Where would he go . . . he thought with a heavy heart. It wasn't unusual for Jamie to go off by himself when there was something troubling him, but being alone in Boston was very different from the Ponderosa. The lobby was quiet except for the hotel employees in the dining room who were preparing food for the hungry guests that would soon be getting up.

Once outside, he paused to look up and down the street. The dock . . . Ben thought to himself, that's the only other place where he could be . . . The crisp morning air felt good as he walked the few blocks to the wharf. Inwardly, he felt a feeling of relief when he saw Jamie there, standing alone, looking out into the horizon.

"There's something very peaceful about watching the tide come in," he said, giving the young man a pat on the back. "Good morning, Jamie. You're up mighty early today."

"Mornin', Pa," he said glancing up at his father with weary-looking eyes. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep so I thought I'd take a walk."

"Joe and I were a little concerned, finding you gone like that."

"I'm sorry, Pa. I just had to get out of there, be by myself."

Ben nodded. "Many years ago, when Elizabeth and I were just starting out, I used to come here to think, about the future and what it might hold." He smiled. "Just like you're doing now, I imagine."

Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "I guess. Until yesterday, I thought I knew what the future was."

Lines of concern and worry were etched into Ben's face. "Why don't you tell me what's troubling you, son."

"A lot of things, Pa." He sighed heavily. "I was just tryin' to figure out why Grandfather wrote that will the way he did - - he never acted like he cared about me."

"I don't think that's what it was, Jamie. It's hard for some people to show how much that they care about others."

Jamie shook his head. "You don't need to make excuses for him, Pa. I know it's true; I could tell by the way he acted. He was disappointed, just like he was disappointed with my mother."

Ben put his arm around the boy's shoulder comfortingly, knowing that his son spoke the truth. "There was never any reason for him to be disappointed in you, Jamie. You're a fine young man - I'm very proud that you're my son."

"Thanks, Pa . . ." Jamie closed his eyes and rested his head against his father's shoulder for a moment, trying to still the turmoil he felt inside.

"You know that we have to meet with the lawyers for your grandfather's estate this morning."

"That's all I could think about last night."

"I need to know what you want to do, son. Something to keep in mind is that your mother grew up in this city, in the same house we stayed at when we came to visit last summer."

"She wasn't happy here; she wouldn't have run away if she was. Besides, I don't even remember her; all I know is what I was told when I was real little." Jamie made a face. "Do you want to know what I really want, Pa?"

"Yes," he replied, feeling his stomach tense. Ben still vividly remembered the day that his oldest son Adam had come to him to say he was unhappy with life on the Ponderosa and would soon be leaving for the East.

"I want to go home to the Ponderosa," Jamie said, looking around. "That's the life I want - - not this."

He let out a breath. "I'm glad to hear that you feel that way, son, but I'm afraid that once this decision is made there's no going back. Next summer, you'll be seventeen; you may not be as certain of things then as you are now." He thought about the telegrams in his pocket that he had received from Virginia City the day before. "If this something that you want, Jamie, we'll find a way to make it work. Our attorney seems to think that, because of your age, we could get that business about your having to live here set aside or, at the very least, get the time shortened. And the money that you'd come into would be in your name

only - - you wouldn't have to share it with your brothers or me."

"I don't care about the money, Pa. I had to wait a long time to find you and Joe and Hoss; there isn't enough money in the world that could make me want to leave my family." He looked at his father painfully. "I feel so out of place here, Pa - - I couldn't stand to be here, not even for a short time . . ."

The words touched a soft spot in the father's heart. Joe was right, he thought, this is going to cause Jamie more harm than good . . . Convinced that his youngest son was very sure of his feelings, he tried to ease his fears. "All right, don't let it cause you any more worry, son. We can let them know what you decided this morning and our lawyer can take care of the paperwork when we get back home." He heard the distant church bells ring seven times. "We'd best get back to the hotel and find Joe so we can get some breakfast . . ."

* * * * * *

Later that morning, the atmosphere in the offices of Simmons, Abernathy and Erickson was just as tense as the day before.

At exactly ten o'clock, Ben and Jamie Cartwright took their seats in front of the expansive oak desk that dominated the room. Seated off to the side, Jeannine Wallace sat, eyeing them anxiously as she fretfully twisted her lace handkerchief into knots.

Randall Abernathy took a deep breath before speaking. "This is the agreed upon time set to discuss the provisions of the will of the late Ferris Callahan." He looked at Ben. "Mr. Cartwright, you didn't give me a chance earlier to discuss these matters with you at any great length. I've been informed that you have spent a considerable amount of time at the telegraph office - Am I correct in assuming that you have something to say today?"

"Yes, Mr. Abernathy. I've discussed the terms of the will very carefully with my son and he has decided to waive any claims on the estate."

"I see." Abernathy shot a glance at Jeannine Wallace then looked at Jamie. "Is this your decision, young man, or the decision your father told you to make?"

Jamie felt the color rise in his face. "It's my decision, sir, no one elses! Pa wouldn't do anything like that . . ."

"Easy, son," Ben said, rising to his feet. "Mr. Abernathy, I can appreciate that it was Mr. Callahan's intention to make sure his grandson was provided for and that it is your job to carry out those wishes. I can assure you that Jamie reached his decision on his own without any interference from me or his brothers."

Abernathy nodded. "Very well, Mr. Cartwright. I believe, then, that our business is finished. If you'll leave with me the name of the firm in Virginia City that handles your legal matters, I get in touch with them so we can take care of the paperwork."

Later, after Ben and Jamie had left, Abernathy sauntered over to Jeannine Wallace and gave her a triumphant smile. "Another feather in your cap, Jeannine. You are a wealthy woman, at last." He stroked her shoulder gently, his eyes devouring her. "I trust that tonight, I will be rewarded for my efforts on your behalf . . ."

She coldly pulled away. His touch filled her with revulsion. "How do you know that Cartwright won't change his mind?"

Abernathy shook his head. "He won't. The Cartwrights are as clean as they come, my dear, unlike you and I. That kid is one of four heirs to the largest ranch in Nevada - I told Callahan that many times, in the hopes that it would convince him that he would be better off leaving the estate to you." He brushed his hand against her cheek. "We'll just wait patiently for a couple of weeks; if we don't hear anything perhaps you might decide to do some traveling by then, say out Virginia City way? Maybe encourage Joe Cartwright to speed things up some?"

"Yes," she murmured, her heart racing as she recalled the touch of Joe's lips brushing across her neck, "I just might decide to do that . . ."

* * * * * *

That afternoon, the Cartwrights left Boston on the late train. As Ben Cartwright settled back in his seat he studied his sons for a moment. Not unexpectently, he was encouraged to see that just getting on the train caused a noticeable improvement in the dark mood that Jamie had been in for the past several days. Joe, on the other hand, puzzled him. Leaving for home seemed to have a dampening effect on Joe's normally easy going countenance.

It's been an eventful few days for us all, Ben thought, I'm sure things will be back to normal once we're home . . .

Three weeks later, Hoss Cartwright shook his head as he watched his brother toss the sack of grain into the buckboard.

"Dadburnit, Joe, will you slow down?" the big man grumbled. "Makes me tired just lookin' at ya."

"Look, do you want to finish this or not?"

Hoss angrily glared at his brother. "Now you done it! You been more ornery than a wounded grizzly bear ever since you got back from Boston. I ain't said nothin' before, but now you're startin' to rile me."

Joe put his hands on his hips and glared back at his older brother. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Hoss was only telling the truth; he knew he had been difficult to get along with. Joe had hoped that throwing himself into work would help him forget about Jeannine. Nothing makes sense anymore . . . Joe thought. And try as hard as he might, he couldn't untangle his feelings for the woman he had spent such a brief amount of time with in Boston. Any girl in Virginia City would be pleased to have Joe Cartwright pay attention to them. But none of the others even slightly interested him anymore.

"I'm tellin' you, Joe, you'd better speak your mind before whatever's eatin' at you, tears you apart inside."

Joe ignored his brother's last comment and turned his attention back to the waiting supplies. A short time later, their work was done. Anxious to get away from Hoss and avoid any further questions, Joe volunteered to pick up the mail at the Express Office while Hoss started back to the ranch.

Meanwhile, at the Express Office, the driver admired the young woman that had just stepped down from the stage. She sure is pretty . . . nicer lookin' than some of them other saloon girls that come here . . .

Jeannine Wallace ignored the man. She glanced around with disdain at her new surroundings. The wooden sidewalks and muddy streets were a far cry from the sophisticated beauty of Boston. So this is what the West is like . . . she thought in annoyance. How barbaric . . .

"You got a place to stay?" the driver chattered amiably. "If not, Mrs. Johnson's boarding house is just down the street."

Boarding house . . . She'd had her fill of those places after her father had died. Jeannine shuddered. "I won't be needing a boarding house," she answered coldly. "I'm visiting friends here."

"Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to offend you." The man tipped his hat and moved away.

Glad to be rid of the man and his unwanted attentions, Jeannine waited with an air of impatience as the driver's helper finished unloading the luggage from the top of the stage. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, Sam, got any mail for us?"

She knew without looking who it was. Jeannine turned and saw Joe standing at the Express window. He looked different here, dressed in a green jacket and work clothes against the rustic backdrop of Virginia City.

"Joe? Joe Cartwright?" Jeannine moved towards him, wrapping her gloved hand around his arm.

"Jeannine?" The mail was forgotten instantly. Joe took her by the arm and led her away from the crowded depot.

"Aren't you happy to see me, Joe?" She asked shyly.

She was just as beautiful as Joe remembered. "Yes," he stammered. "This is just a surprise, is all."

"I told you I was leaving Boston. I'm on my way to San Francisco actually, but I couldn't pass up the chance to stop here." She tightened her grip on his arm. "I - I had to see you again, Joe."

Joe nodded. "I've felt the same way . . ." He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. He was past the point of trying to understand why he felt as he did. "I didn't know how much longer I could stand being away from you . . ." He tightened his grip around her arm. "How long will you be here?"

"I'm not sure. A couple of days, I think." She became more animated. "I don't even have a place to stay, I just took a chance on coming here, hoping to see you!"

The long hours that Joe had been working at the ranch had done nothing to put out the fervor he felt for the woman in his arms. Like a drowning man reaching for a life line, Joe realized that it wasn't enough to feel her next to him or to hear her voice again, only to have to suffer her leaving again.

Then an idea came to him. It was the only way to settle things for both himself and Jeannine. "C'mon," he said firmly. "We can get a buggy at the livery stable."

Without waiting for an answer, Joe pulled Jeannine close as the two crossed the busy main street . . .

* * * *

At the same time, a few blocks away in the law offices of Henderson and Banks, Ben Cartwright looked at the papers in his hand and shook his head adamantly.

"Frank," he said, waving the paper at the lawyer, "why is this taking so long? A week ago you said that this would be a simple matter to settle."

"I know, Ben," Frank Henderson said, "and at the time it seemed that way. But, as you can see, the figures you were given about the value of the Callahan estate don't match what I received from the bank in Boston."

Cartwright shot up from his seat. "I don't see what difference it makes - Jamie's made it clear that he's waiving his claim on the estate. Get the papers ready stating that and I'll sign them."

Henderson shook his head and leaned forward. He continued speaking in a patient voice. "Ben, listen to me. If these figures are correct, then that means there's a considerable amount of money left unaccounted for. You and I both know that the smell of money can make people do some rash things. It's no secret that you're a wealthy man. Once word of the shortfall leaks out, one of the heirs could decide to go after you to recover some of what was lost."

The older man scowled. "But that's impossible! This is just as much a surprise to me as it will be to them."

"I know, Ben," Henderson said, motioning for Cartwright to take a seat. "But your son is Callahan's only living blood relative. Based on that fact alone, some judge could rule that Jamie, and you, as his guardian, are responsible for some kind of restitution to the other heirs if it went to court."

"This is madness, Frank!"

"I know it is, Ben and I'm sorry. But as your attorney and friend, I have to be honest with you. A case could be made that you told Jamie to exert some influence over Callahan to change the will in the boy's favor. Out here, because of your reputation a case like that wouldn't stand up but, back East, it's quite possible that a ruling would be made against you."

All right, Frank." Ben sank back down in the chair. "What do we do now?"

"At the moment, nothing. I'm still waiting to hear back from the bank officer in Boston. For some reason, that lawyer you told me about, Randall Abernathy, seems to be handling communications from them despite my requests to deal with the bank directly. Until I hear from them, things are on hold for the moment."

Ben rose from his seat and moved towards the door. "I'll check back with you in a couple days."

"You do that, Ben," Henderson said, shaking the older man's hand. "I know that you want this resolved as quickly as possible."

Deep in thought, Cartwright didn't even look up as the ornate covered buggy carrying Joe and Jeannine roared past the lawyer's office.

* * * *

At the same time, in Boston, Randall Abernathy drained the last swallow of whiskey from the bottle in his hand. He'd been drinking for the past three days, hoping that the alcohol would change what the words on the paper in front of him said.

He forced his bleary eyes to focus. We're finished you and I, Randall . . . I no longer have to endure the disgust I felt each time you touched me . . .

"Lousy whore!" he muttered, slamming the bottom to the floor. Was it really only two weeks ago that Jeannine had freely given her favors to him, just as she had done so many times before? He forced his eyes again to the paper, hoping to drive the image of Jeannine's ample breasts from his mind.

I've taken what I wanted from you, Randall . . . I have no more use for you . . .

The implications of what she'd done unfolded before him at a frightening speed. His partners were getting edgy about the questions that Cartwright's lawyer was asking. And even though they had knowledge of what he and Jeannine were doing with Callahan's funds, Abernathy knew that he would be standing alone when the time of reckoning with the bank examiners came. His thoughts were in turmoil. The scandal of the embezzlement would be front page news . . .There would be a trial . . . imprisonment . . . all because of Jeannine . . .

Surely you knew that the money alone wouldn't satisfy me . . .

Money . . . the root of all evil . . . That was one of Callahan's favorite sayings. But he was wrong, it wasn't the money that was evil . . . the evil was within Jeannine . . .

How foolish of you to think that your pathetic attempts at lovemaking could keep me, Randall . . . . foolish and pathetic . . . compared to what Joe Cartwright will offer me . . .

The loss of Jeannine, despite her betrayal, was worse than the scandal to come over the missing funds. The thought of another man enjoying the pleasures that he had once enjoyed was driving him mad.

She sucked all the life out of me and now she's moved on to someone else . . . Nathan Erickson and so many others had tried to tell Abernathy about the trail of broken men that Jeannine had left in her wake, but he'd refused to listen.

The rage he felt was becoming stronger than the effects of the alcohol. Angrily he reached out and grabbed a sheet of nearby paper and a writing tool. The vindictive man forced his hand to stop shaking and began scrawling on the paper.

Mr. Benjamin Cartwright, Ponderosa Ranch, Virginia City, Nevada . . .

Ten minutes later, Abernathy gave the finished letter one last glance before sealing it in an envelope and addressing the outside.

"I'm not going down alone, whore . . ." The deranged man muttered. He heard the front door of the office close as his secretary left on an urgent mission to post the letter he'd just written.

There was only one final thing to do to ensure that he'd have his revenge on the woman who had scorned him - -

The pistol was there, waiting beside the empty bottle. Calmly, he took it and slowly raised it to his head . . .

* * * *

That evening, a cloud of unrest hovered over the Cartwright family as they ate their meal. The tense silence in the room was broken only by the sound of clattering dishes and silverware.

Jamie swallowed another mouthful of food as he glanced at the empty place across from him. Joe's really in for it . . . he thought. The youth ate faster, anxious to finish and leave the room before his older brother returned.

At the other end of the table, Hoss was thinking almost the same thing. I knew Joe was gonna get himself in trouble . . . His brother had been gone for well over six hours. Hoss felt sorry for his father, who was both angry at Joe's tardiness yet concerned by it too.

"Jamie did real good on that test he was studyin' for last night, Pa," Hoss said, hoping to take Ben's mind off of Joe. "Ain't that so, little brother?"

The silver haired man pushed his plate away and glared at his son. "Never mind changing the subject, Hoss. Are you sure Joseph didn't say anything about stopping anywhere on the way home?"

The big man shook his head. "Like I told you before, Pa, he said he was gonna pick up the mail, then head back. I ain't seen him since."

"Well I hope that brother of yours has a good explanation for not being here."

"Yes, sir," Hoss agreed. He knew, instinctively, that wouldn't be the case. Joe had been so ornery and out of sorts that Hoss doubted that his brother could explain any of his behavior for the past few weeks.

Just then, the family heard a noise outside and then there was the sound of a carriage.

"That had better be Joseph . . ." Ben muttered under his breath.

Outside of the house, the rented carriage came to a gentle stop. A warm, welcoming glow radiated from the windows of the spacious ranch house that was tucked in among the towering Ponderosa Pines.

Joe took Jeannine's hand in his and smiled at her. "Well . . . we're home."

Jeannine shifted imperiously in her seat as she studied her new home. The house looked crude and primitive, just like everything else that she'd seen since her arrival in Virginia City. She nodded. "Yes, home . . ." She moved closer and snuggled up to the man beside her.

In spite of the distaste she felt for her surroundings, Jeannine was pleased. She glanced down at the gold wedding band on the ring finger of her left hand. Too plain . . . she thought but it would be a simple enough job to convince Joe to get her something fancier. She'd keep the plain band though, as a reminder of the afternoon that had resulted in the culmination of her efforts - the day she'd become Mrs. Joseph Cartwright.

The Cartwright name and money will keep me more than comfortable . . . Jeannine thought smugly. And there was Joe - She knew that she wouldn't grow tired of him, as quickly as she had with the others. The man beside her was strong, a product of the wilderness around him. The challenge of taming a man like that excited her. And she needed Joe. Only he could help her deal with Ben Cartwright and the matter of Callahan's estate.

It would be a shame if Joe can't persuade his father to stop making inquiries into the estate's assets . . . As a new bride, the thought of giving up all the beautiful things that Joe was going to give her in favor of wearing the black of mourning was disappointing.

But even that could be turned to her advantage. She would, of course, be the devoted wife, comforting her husband in his grief at the loss of his father and youngest brother . . .

Joe gently caressed her soft cheek. "Mrs. Joseph Cartwright," he whispered, leaning close to give her a kiss. The words were intoxicating - Jeannine was his alone now, for always - there'd be no more agonizing separations for the two of them.

Home . . . the newly joined couple dismounted from the carriage. For the grateful husband, it was the start of a new life with the woman he loved . . . And for the wife, it was the satisfaction of having snared yet another victim in her web of deceit.

The End