Thank you all for the incredibly encouraging reviews right out of the gate! It really is heart-warming to have a story so readily received. I hope I can keep the great chapters coming. The next few chapters will help to paint a picture of the life Anne Marie lives with her father, grandfather, and uncles. While they may be slightly slow, they should be filled with sweet scenes between Anne Marie and all four of the Cartwrights so you can get a feel for their relationships, then I'll jump into the meat of the story. Can't go too fast, you know. LOL. Anyway, please keep the reviews coming so I can get a feel for how you're enjoying it, and if you ever have any questions don't hesitate to ask. I will always include a little note at the beginning of each of my chapters, so I can address any you may have...without giving anything away, of course. :) Without further ado, here's chapter 2!
Chapter 2
"Did ya have a good time in Virginia City, flower?" Little Joe asked as he helped Anne Marie out of the buggy.
"Yes, Pa." She kissed him, depositing a sticky residue from the lemon drops onto his cheek.
Little Joe rubbed a hand across his cheek and looked up at his older brother with a sigh. "You're gettin' to be as bad as Hoss," he said.
"I only bought her two. Last time Hoss went to town he bought her the entire jar," Adam replied.
"Two lemon drops won't spoil my supper, Pa," Anne Marie assured him.
Joe smiled sweetly upon his daughter. "Just make sure Hop Sing doesn't find out. Now run along into the house and wash up for supper; it's already on the table."
Anne Marie hurried into the house and Joe turned his attention to the buckboard, which Adam had already begun to unload.
"You're gonna spoil her rotten before she's ten years old," he said.
"I'll let you worry about how spoiled she is, Joe. You're her father; I'm just her uncle."
Joe shook his head and continued with their work, an amused smirk upon his lips.
"I met the new schoolteacher in town today," Adam announced at dinner.
"Oh?" Ben looked up from the piece of beef he was cutting.
"Her name's Diana Cunningham."
"What's she like?" Hoss asked.
"She's very nice. She has a daughter who looked about Anne Marie's age."
"She's pretty too," Anne Marie added, and the four men turned as a unit to look at her, seated there beside her father.
Ben smiled softly upon his granddaughter. Everything she said and did was precious to him.
"We'll have to pay them a visit then, won't we, flower?" Joe said.
"Yeah, I'll bet you will, Little Joe," Hoss said with a teasing smirk.
"What does her husband do?" Ben asked before Little Joe could respond.
Adam shook his head. "I didn't ask."
"Well, I'm sure they'll be fine neighbors."
"I reckon the kids'll like her a heap better than Abigail Jones." Hoss eyed Adam with a smirk and chuckled.
Joe's cackle resonated over any retort Adam could have made, throwing the remaining three Cartwrights into a fit of raucous laughter while he merely continued eating and rolling his eyes in Anne Marie's direction.
She smiled and giggled. It wasn't often that anyone laughed at Uncle Adam, but she loved watching his face when they did. He would graciously accept his family's ridicule, all the while knowing that the span of his intellect was vastly superior to their own, or so he thought. So, in these rare moments he would sit in silence, wearing an expression of sarcastic consent, fully aware that he would once again have the opportunity to laugh at them soon enough. Of course, Anne Marie didn't know exactly why her uncle's face amused her so; all she knew was that when Uncle Adam rolled his eyes it tickled her so much she couldn't contain her mirth. Besides, she loved to see her father and grandfather and Uncle Hoss not merely chuckling but laughing with their mouths open wide. It meant they were really happy, and the feeling their happiness gave her was warmer and safer than any she'd ever known.
After supper the family sat about the fire as they always did, Ben with his cup of coffee and Joe with his book; Adam with his guitar and Hoss and Anne Marie in front of the hearth with the checkerboard. He was attempting to teach her some strategy to the game, but the process was proving less successful than it could have been if he wasn't so softhearted. He always let her win so she didn't even have to try. At half past eight, Little Joe closed his book and Anne Marie looked up from the board. It was time for bed. She turned to look at Adam who smiled knowingly.
"What suits your fancy tonight, my lady?" he asked.
She considered the question as she climbed up into her father's lap and rested her head against his firm chest.
"What do you like, Uncle Adam?"
"Well, how 'bout this one?"
And he began to play one of Anne Marie's favorite tunes.
"Won't you tell me Annie darlin'
That you love none else but me
For I love you Annie darlin'
You are all the world to me
Tell me darlin' that you love me
Put your little hand in mine
Take my heart sweet Annie darlin'
Say that you'll give me thine
Stars are smilin' Annie darlin'
Through the misty veil of night
They seem laughin' Annie darlin'
While the moon hides her light
Oh, no one listens but the flowers
While they hang their heads in shame
They are modest Annie darlin'
When they hear me call your name
Annie fairest, sweetest, dearest
Look up darlin' tell me this
Do you love me, Annie darlin'
Let your answer be a kiss."
As he strummed the last chord, Adam displayed his cheek for Anne Marie and she wriggled off Joe's lap to come kiss it. Then she kissed Hoss and Ben, bid them goodnight, and took her father's hand as he led her up the stairs to her room.
The room had previously been used as an extra guest suite, but once Little Joe had felt safe letting Anne Marie sleep in her own room, the Cartwrights had spared no expense in lavishly furnishing her quarters. Lacy pink curtains hung from both the windows, which remained open in the spring and summer to allow the warm fragrances of life to pour in. Her large bed was soft and warm with a pile of goose feather pillows at the head and an eiderdown bedspread that deflected the chilling breeze of autumn and the frigid bite of winter. In addition to the great bed, the room consisted of an enormous armoire with a matching nightstand and an ornate vanity with a massive mirror that had belonged to her mother. Resting on the nightstand was a daguerreotype of the woman who had died not one month after Anne Marie's birth.
After slipping into her nightgown, Little Joe knelt beside Anne Marie while she said her prayers, then tucked her into bed.
"Good night, flower," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I love you."
"I love you too, Pa." She kissed his cheek then fell back against the pillows, sticking her thumb in her mouth. Joe knew it was an awful habit, but at the age of six there wasn't much he could say. He figured as long as she'd stopped by the time school started the following year, she would be fine.
He blew out the candle flickering by her bed and exited the room quietly, leaving the door ajar to allow a crack of light from the lamp in the hall to shine in. He wasn't about to have her wake up crying in the dark again.
An hour later the Cartwright men climbed into their respective beds, confident in the knowledge that their precious flower was sleeping soundly just down the hall.