Chapter Two
The next morning, Adam set out for town right after breakfast. He knew Molly would be working in her shop that day, and he did not want to waste any time in setting things right with her. Hop Sing had asked him to pick up some groceries, including some blocks of chocolate so he could bake a cake for Hoss's birthday later that week, so Adam hitched up the buckboard and began the long drive to town.
When he was halfway to town, he saw a single rider approaching from the opposite direction. Two years ago, this would have piqued Adam's interest, but now he simply assumed it was a patient riding in to see Josie. As the rider drew closer, however, Adam thought he recognized the dapple gray horse. Sure enough, as the horse closed the distance, Adam made out the brown hair and freckled face of Fionn O'Connell. Adam pulled his horses to a stop in the center of the road so Fionn would not be able to sweep past him. Seeing the roadblock, Fionn reined up his horse next to the wagon. The two men stared at each other for a time, sizing each other up. Adam smirked as he saw that both of Fionn's eyes were black and puffy from Josie's strike, and his nose was about twice its usual size. Finally, understanding that Adam was not going to speak first, Fionn broke the silence.
"Headin' to town?" he asked casually as his gelding shifted its feet impatiently.
"Yup."
"Molly's at her shop."
"I know. You heading to my house?"
"Yeah," Fionn answered.
"Josie's in her clinic."
"I figured."
Adam and Fionn stared at each other a while longer, and Adam bit back another smile as he watched Fionn begin to squirm ever so slightly. He let the young man stew in his discomfort for a few seconds before speaking up.
"Fionn, look, I'm sorry I butted in yesterday. Josie made it very plain to me that I should have let her handle the situation. I'm sure it was awkward enough, and I just made it worse. But she's like my little sister, and my composure is easily shaken where Josie is concerned."
"I understand that," Fionn replied. "Molly's three years older than me, but I feel the same way. Anyway, Cartwright, I'm sorry about yesterday, too. I know Josie's with Croft, and I should have asked her before I kissed her. She's just really pretty, and she was right there in me face, and, well, anyway, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry about what I said about you and Molly. I'm glad you're courtin' her. It's high time she found someone who treats her right."
Adam raised an eyebrow at this last comment; the look on the young man's face said that there was more to Fionn's statement that he was not saying. But not wanting to overstep his bounds twice in as many days, Adam simply said, "Thank you," and Fionn understood he was thanking him both for the apology and the compliment.
"I'm headin' over to apologize to Josie," Fionn continued. "I promise I'll keep my distance from her. I hope you know I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt her. Men who harm women are the worst kind of devils in this world, if you ask me."
Adam's eyes narrowed, and he stared at Fionn, trying to divine what it was the younger man wasn't telling him.
"Women who harm men, on the other hand," Fionn added brightly as he pointed to his swollen face, "are just damn impressive." He grinned at Adam. "Good luck with Molly, though I doubt you'll need it." He clucked to his horse, who sidestepped the wagon and bore him down the road toward Josie's clinic.
Adam craned his neck and watched him ride off before slapping his horses with the reins and continuing on into town.
It was only ten o'clock when Adam rolled into Virginia City, so he decided to see Molly first, hopefully take her to lunch, and then complete his shopping. He left the wagon and horses at the livery stable for the time being and headed toward Molly's shop on foot. As he walked, he marveled at how quickly the town had cleaned up from the earthquake. Most of the broken windows and dislodged signs had been replaced, and a crew of men was sweeping up the rubble that used to be the schoolhouse. Adam knew there would have to be a town meeting soon to discuss building a new one, and he resolved not to let his architectural ideas get shouted down this time.
Molly had already replaced her shop's broken front window, and her "Open" sign was hanging in it when Adam arrived at her door. He let himself in and spotted Molly bent over her sewing machine next to a side window. In the middle of stitching a seam, she did not look up when she heard the bell above the door herald Adam's arrival.
"Be right with you!" she called cheerfully. Adam stood quietly until Molly finished her seam and glanced up to see who had entered her shop. "Oh," she said when she spotted Adam's broad frame filling her doorway. "Hello, Adam." Her tone was cool.
Adam took a few steps toward her, his right hand outstretched. "Molly," he said softly. Her eyes locked onto his gaze, and he watched as her bright green eyes filled with tears, though she stayed firmly in her seat at her sewing machine. "Molly, I'm so sorry." His voice wavered, and he stretched his hand a little further toward her. The few additional seconds Molly spent staring at him were an eternity, and his stomach fluttered. Finally, Molly's chin quivered, and she let out a little squeak as she leapt from her chair and flew into Adam's arms. Adam wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her soft, auburn hair. "I should have let Josie explain," he muttered into her tresses. "I was unfair to Fionn, and I'm sorry."
Molly sniffled into Adam's shirtfront and raised her head to look up at him. "I'm sorry he caused trouble in the first place."
"You don't have to apologize for him. Besides, I passed him on my way into town, and we sorted things out. He was on his way to apologize to Josie."
"He's a good boy." Molly gave Adam a watery smile.
"He cares about you very deeply."
"Aye, he's always taken good care of me." Molly took a step back and ran her hands from Adam's shoulders down his chest before slipping her arms around his waist and leaning into him once more.
Adam shivered at her touch, but Fionn's implications from earlier were gnawing at him. He cupped Molly's chin in his hand and tilted her face up to look at him again. "Molly? Fionn said something a little odd when I saw him."
Molly raised her eyebrows in an expression of innocence, but something flashed behind her eyes as if she knew what Adam was about to say next.
"He implied that things have been harder for you than you've let on, and he seemed almost desperate to assure me that he would never hurt Josie. He said men who hurt women are the worst kind of devils. Did you have some sort of trouble in San Francisco? Do you need any help?"
Molly dropped her gaze and studied the buttons on Adam's shirt while she muttered something in Irish that Adam was fairly certain was impolite. She sighed heavily and returned to English. "That boy! Always makin' mountains out of molehills, he is."
"Whatever it is, you can tell me."
Molly sighed again. "It's the main reason we left San Francisco." Adam said nothing; he just reached forward and laid one palm gently on her cheek. "We came out here so Fionn could farm, yes," she continued, "but also to get away from… a problem."
Adam bristled and dropped his hand. "Is someone after you?" He began mentally calculating how long it would take him to get home, saddle up Sport, and ride to San Francisco.
"No. But after everything that happened, Fionn and I both needed a fresh start."
"What happened?" Adam led her over to her seat by the sewing machine. He pulled up another chair next to her and waited quietly.
Molly rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by the memory. "I was seein' a man named John. We'd been courtin' about a year when he proposed."
Adam's brain exploded with a dozen questions, but after his experience yesterday, he decided he had better keep shut and let Molly finish her tale.
"But I turned him down," Molly continued.
"Why?" The question was out of Adam's mouth before he could bite his lip to keep it closed.
"He was a drunk, he was!" answered Molly with a little laugh. "He was even drunk when he proposed. Fell over twice trying to get down on one knee!"
Adam chuckled and shook his head. "I think you made a good decision turning him down."
"Aye," Molly agreed, smiling back at him. But then her face fell, and Adam's stomach clenched as Molly grew somber. "But he was a mean drunk. And he didn't like bein' rejected." She broke away from Adam's gaze and grabbed a swatch of fabric off her sewing table and began worrying it between her fingers.
Understanding descended on Adam like a heavy, black cloud.
"Did he hurt you?" Adam asked quietly. Molly bit her lower lip and nodded without looking up at him. "Oh, Molly, I'm so sorry," he whispered as he took hold of her right hand and caressed it between both of his palms.
Molly took a deep breath and forced herself to look up at Adam again. "It's all right. Fionn came to me rescue." The thought of her little brother saving her elicited a fond smile from her lips. "John and I were in the parlor of me house – this was just after Da died – and Fionn was outside on the porch, so he heard me hollerin' when John started beatin' on me. John drew his gun on Fionn, but Fionn grabbed Da's shillelagh and brought it down on John's head." She paused, a faraway look in her eyes. "I've never seen anyone crumple to the ground like John did when Fionn struck him. We found out later Fionn had cracked his skull – it's a miracle John survived. But survive he did, and he pressed charges. The sheriff arrested Fionn for attempted murder."
Adam shook his head in disbelief. Fionn was a brash, impulsive young man – not unlike Little Joe – but Adam was stunned that anyone could believe Fionn capable of murder. It simply wasn't in him.
"It went to trial and everythin'," Molly pressed on, dabbing at the corner of her left eye. "I was certain Fionn would be found guilty, even though he was just defendin' me, but fortunately Da had left us a little money, and we were able to hire a good lawyer. Fionn got off, but he couldn't find work after that, and ladies quit comin' to me for dresses. John wasn't an important man in San Francisco, but there were a number of people who were upset that a dirty Mick got off attackin' an American. So eventually we had to leave, and we came here."
Adam had no idea what to say. He knew Irish immigrants were often mistreated in the big cities back east, but he hadn't realized the ill will had spread to San Francisco. He would have guessed the people of California were too busy abusing the Chinese to worry about anyone else.
"Molly, I'm so sorry," he repeated. Molly gave him a watery smile as a tear slid down her cheek. Adam leaned over and kissed it away. It was warm and salty, and he had to fight the urge to keep kissing her, to taste the rest of her face and her throat. But pawing at Molly right now would not elicit a positive response, so Adam wrapped his arms around her and drew her to his chest.
Molly leaned into him and rested her cheek on his shirtfront. She did not break down, and Adam guessed correctly that she had already shed all the tears she was going to dignify John with. "It's all right," she sighed at length. "All in the past."
Adam continued to hold fast to Molly, but a new thought began troubling him. "Molly? Why didn't you press countercharges against John for attacking you? If you already had a lawyer representing Fionn, it couldn't have cost much more to go after him."
Molly glanced up at Adam with eyes suddenly blazing with anger. "I wanted to," she seethed between gritted teeth. "But the sheriff wouldn't hear of it. He kept sayin' I must have done somethin' to provoke John, so I got what I deserved. Never mind that the same could have been said of John provokin' Fionn."
Fire sparked behind Adam's eyes now, too. "I've had about enough of that sheriff in San Francisco!" he snarled. "Pa and my brothers ran into some trouble there a couple years ago, and his deputies wouldn't lift a finger to help them."
"Aye, he's not a very good listener," Molly agreed. "He wouldn't even hear me out when I tried to argue for my right to press charges against John. I guess that's partly why I got so upset with you yesterday when you wouldn't let Josie explain. Bad things happen when men don't listen to what women are tryin' to tell them."
Once again ashamed of his conduct the previous day, Adam dropped his head, buried his face in Molly's hair, and apologized for what felt like the hundredth time. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "It's all right, Just Adam," she whispered. "You were just tryin' to protect your sister, and I can't fault you for that." She ran her hand around to the back of Adam's head, entwined her fingers in his dark hair, and pulled his face down to hers. As their lips met, Adam felt a familiar tingle below his navel, and he pulled Molly out of her chair and onto his lap. She giggled as she situated herself on his knee and kissed him again.
Adam had just slipped his tongue between Molly's lips when they were interrupted by gales of laughter from outside the shop. Their heads snapped up, and there on the other side of the front window were six-year-old Michael Bryson and one of his friends. Both little boys were pointing and laughing at Adam and Molly, and Michael pressed his face against the window and blew hard against the glass, making a rude sound. Adam shifted Molly from his lap back onto her chair and stormed over to the door to chase the rapscallions off. The boys shrieked when they saw the tall, scowling man striding toward them, and they took off sprinting down the street. Adam had half a mind to chase after them and knock their little heads together, but he stopped dead, his hand on the door latch, when he heard Molly's laugh ring out. He spun around to see Molly nearly falling out of her chair with laughter.
"What's so funny?" he demanded indignantly. First two little boys laughed at him, and now Molly.
Molly kept laughing, and it was a minute or two before she could compose herself enough to reply. "If only you could have seen the look on your face when you spotted those lads!" she hooted, clutching her stomach, which was beginning to ache from laughing so hard.
Adam's angry expression dropped into a devilish grin. "Oh, you think my face is funny, do you?"
"Oh, aye!" Molly fished her handkerchief out of her skirt pocket and wiped her eyes. Her efforts were in vain, however, because she was still laughing so hard that her eyes continued to stream.
Still grinning, Adam crossed back to her in three long strides and jabbed his fingers right under her ribcage, where he had discovered she was fiercely ticklish. Molly screamed with laughter and slapped at his hands. Adam didn't relent until Molly was laughing so hard she could not catch her breath and her face turned bright red. Then he swept his arms around her waist, pressed against her, and kissed her softly on the lips.
"Well, Miss O'Connell," he said, still holding her to him, "since we don't seem to have any privacy here anyway, would you care to come shopping with me?"
Molly smiled up at him. "I would be delighted, Mr. Cartwright."
Adam and Molly spent the remainder of their morning at Cass's General Store and Emporium, where Adam bought all the groceries that Hop Sing had requested and Molly chatted with Sally about the Fourth of July festival the following month. This would be the O'Connells' first Independence Day in Virginia City, and Sally thrilled Molly with her descriptions of the food, games, dancing, and fireworks the town always boasted.
"Dear me," Molly sighed, looking down at her neat and clean, though faded, skirt and shirtwaist. She had been so busy with orders for other ladies since the Cartwrights' party a few weeks ago that she hadn't had time to sew anything new for herself, and the dresses she had brought from San Francisco that spring were beginning to show their age. "I really need to make meself a new dress. Wouldn't be fittin' to show up at the festival all raggedy, would it?"
Though she had plenty of fabric in her shop, Molly could not resist perusing the selection in the general store. She was drawn to fabric like Josie and Adam were to books – no matter how many bolts of colorful prints she had on hand, she could not overcome the urge to see what new patterns and hues were available. Her wandering eyes lit on a light-blue and lavender gingham, and she squealed with delight as she ran the material between her hands, expertly assessing the weight and quality.
"That one's real pretty," Sally said, striding over to her and nodding approvingly. "Just got it in yesterday."
Molly's face fell as she glanced at the price tag. After all the orders she had taken the past few weeks, she could afford the gingham calico, but years of lean living had trained her not to splurge on herself. She stood there trying to decide if there was enough fabric on the bolt to make two dresses; if she could sell one dress in that fabric, then she could justify using the remnant for herself, but with as wide as skirts were growing these days, she doubted she could get two adult-sized gowns out of the bolt.
From the other side of the store where he was filling a paper cone with gumdrops to cheer up Little Joe, Adam watched as Molly sighed sadly and set the bolt of fabric back down on the display table. He cleared his throat to get Will Cass's attention, and when the shopkeeper looked over at him, Adam jerked his head toward Molly and then pointed to himself and mimed writing something across the palm of his hand. Will glanced over at Molly and then turned and grinned at Adam to indicate he understood. Adam nodded to him and strode over to Molly. He handed Sally the gumdrops to place in one of the boxes with the rest of his groceries and then took hold of Molly's hand.
"I don't know about you, my dear," he said, "but I'm starving. Let's get some lunch." Shooting a parting grin over his shoulder at Will Cass, Adam led Molly from the shop and down the street to Annie's Café.
After a delightful lunch together, Adam and Molly strolled to the livery stable to pick up the Cartwrights' buckboard, and then they drove over to the general store to collect the Ponderosa groceries. As Molly was helping to organize the boxes in the back of the buckboard for Adam's drive home, she spotted the bolt of gingham sticking out of one of the boxes.
"Adam," she said, thrusting the roll in his face as he leaned lazily against one of the wagon wheels. "What is this?"
Adam tugged at his hat brim. "Looks like a bolt of fabric to me," he answered casually. "Honestly, Molly, I should think that would be something you'd recognize."
Molly bonked him lightly over the head with the material. "I know it's a bolt of fabric, you twit!" she returned playfully. "What is it doin' in your wagon?"
"I thought I could decorate Little Joe's cast with it. Maybe if he looks pretty, he'll be less grouchy."
Molly thwacked him with the fabric again, a little harder this time, and Adam's face split into a grin. He grasped Molly's waist with both hands and lifted her from the wagon, setting her down in front of him. His hands lingered on her waist, though Molly's hands were busy clutching the bolt of fabric covetously to her bosom.
"It's for you, of course," Adam said, kissing the tip of her nose.
Molly frowned at him, but she did not relinquish her tight hold on the calico she had wanted so badly. "You don't have to buy your way back into my good graces."
"That was never my intention," Adam replied with a smile. "In fact, my motives were entirely selfish. It's very pretty, and I want to see you in it. Simple as that."
"Well, all right. As long as you were just bein' selfish." Molly beamed at him and stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you very much."
"My pleasure."
Adam lifted Molly into the front seat of the buckboard and drove her back to her shop. He wanted to stay and while away the afternoon, but Delphine Marquette was due in for a dress fitting, so Adam bid farewell to Molly at the shop's door and headed home.
The afternoon sun was hot, but Adam enjoyed his drive home. Fionn would have delivered his apology to Josie by now, and Adam had made things right with Molly, who was going to have a lovely new frock for the Fourth of July festival. Adam couldn't wait to see the new dress on Molly, and he grinned wickedly to himself as he thought how he wouldn't mind seeing that new dress on his bedroom floor, either. Yes, it had been a good day.
Adam had planned to drive straight to the house to get the chocolate he was carrying down to the cellar before it melted, but as he passed by Josie's clinic, he spotted her and Hoss sitting on the front steps. Hoss had his arm around her shoulders, and Josie was resting her head against his massive chest. This was not in itself unusual; Josie loved leaning on Hoss. His broad shoulders made good pillows, and just one of his thick arms wrapped around her could keep her warm in a blizzard. Adam couldn't make out their facial expressions from the road, but Josie's posture told him something was amiss. If Josie and Hoss were having a companionable conversation, Josie should have had her legs stretched out along the porch and her face turned up toward the warm sunshine. Instead, she was curled into a ball against Hoss's left hip, and her face was buried in his shirt. Pip was lying next to Josie with his head in her lap. Adam yanked the horses to a stop and sprang from the wagon.
"What's wrong?!" he hollered as he raced over to the clinic's porch.
Josie looked up at him, but she did not budge from her spot next to Hoss. She took a long, shuddering breath, and Adam could now see the tearstains that streaked her cheeks. He threw himself onto the steps on her other side and laid a hand on her shoulder. His first thought was that she had gotten bad news about Jacob, but, Adam realized, if that were the case, then Ben should be here, too.
"Josie, what's wrong?" he repeated.
Josie did not answer; she just buried her face in Hoss's shirt again. Adam looked helplessly up at his brother.
"She and Simon split up," Hoss answered, running one vast hand up and down Josie's skinny arm.
Adam sat dumbfounded for several seconds before he found his voice. "No," he said at last. "No, you're mixed up. Not Simon. Fionn. Fionn was here."
"Yes, he was," Hoss confirmed. "Unfortunately, Simon stopped by, too, just as Fionn was apologizing for kissin' Josie."
"Oh, no."
"Yeah. He didn't seem to care that Fionn was apologizin', neither. Just came busting into the clinic and tackled Fionn to the ground. Fortunately, me and Pa were ridin' by on our way out to check on some stock and heard the ruckus – Pip was barking something fierce – and we broke it up before the fight got too interestin'. Simon's nose got bloodied, but Fionn was already so tore up from Josie hittin' him yesterday that I don't think he'll notice any difference."
"He wouldn't even listen to me!" Josie wailed into Hoss's shirt. "I tried telling him that Fionn was apologizing – which is just what Simon should have wanted! But he wouldn't listen. He just went insane." Her voice broke off in fresh sobs, and Adam gathered Josie up into his own arms to give Hoss's shirt a chance to dry out.
"Oh, Josie, I'm sorry," Adam said, stroking her hair. "You've had a string of men not listening to you lately, haven't you?"
"Gets worse," Hoss said, shaking his head. As Adam's eyebrows shot up, Hoss continued, "Pa pulled him off Fionn and made him shut up long enough to let Josie speak, and when she tried explainin' how sometimes patients misunderstand her intentions, Simon said he didn't want her treatin' men no more. Josie told him he had no right to make that decision for her, and Simon said 'I do so have that right. I'm courtin' you.' Then Josie said 'Not anymore, you're not.' That's when Pa dragged Simon outside and ordered him off the property."
A triumphant smile tugged at the corners of Adam's mouth. At fifty-four years old, Ben Cartwright hadn't lost a step. But then Adam's face fell. "I can't believe Simon tried to order Josie around," he muttered, running a hand across his mouth. "He's always admired Josie's independence."
"I expect he felt cornered and was tryin' to save face," Hoss opined.
"That's probably true," Adam agreed, admiring his brother's talent for understanding people. "Doesn't excuse his behavior, though." Then, remembering his promise to pulverize Simon if he ever hurt Josie, Adam lifted Josie's chin so she was looking up at him. "You want me to kill him?"
Josie gave him a watery smile. "Maybe later," she sniffed. "Right now, I'd rather have you here." She threaded one arm around Adam's waist and leaned into his chest. Her other hand reached out and grabbed one of Hoss's hands, and she held tightly to him, too, ignoring the throbbing in her still-swollen right hand. The three cousins sat there for several minutes, the two big men doing their best to comfort the heartbroken little lady sandwiched between them.
As Adam sat there stroking Josie's hair, he caught himself staring at the sun-soaked buckboard that was still sitting in the middle of the road, and he got the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important. Suddenly, his eyes shot wide, and he leapt to his feet, tipping Josie over into Hoss's lap. "Oh, no!" he shouted. "The chocolate!" He turned to a very confused Josie. "Hop Sing asked me to bring home some chocolate. I have to get it into the cellar before it melts – if it hasn't already. You want a lift to the house?"
Josie nodded, turned the sign on her door around to "Doctor is out – Please call at the house," and scurried over to the wagon behind Adam.
As Adam helped Josie up into the wagon seat, Hoss called out, "I'm gonna ride out and help Pa and Fionn finish up with those steers."
Adam's head snapped around to look at his brother. "Pa and Fionn?"
"Oh, yeah," Hoss replied. "After Pa ran Simon off, Fionn offered to help him round up the cattle so I could stay here with Josie for a while."
"That was good of him," Adam said, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
"Yeah, it was nice," Josie agreed, wiping her nose with a handkerchief she'd pulled from her skirt pocket.
Adam swung into the wagon seat next to Josie, raised a hand in farewell to Hoss, and clucked to the horses to take them the rest of the way home.
When they reached the house, Adam discovered that fortunately, Molly had very wisely packed the chocolate underneath a sack of sugar so it was out of direct sunlight. Though soft, the chocolate had not gone runny, so Josie ran it down to the cellar and set it between two blocks of sawdust-covered ice to stay cool until Hop Sing needed it.
Hop Sing helped Adam unload the wagon and put the groceries away in the pantry. When they finished, Hop Sing shooed him out of the kitchen so he could prepare dinner, and Adam sauntered into the living room, hoping to find Josie there. The living room was empty, and Adam hung his head, disappointed. He wanted a few private moments with her to make sure she really was all right – or to persuade her that everything would eventually be all right, at least. But then he heard a light giggle wafting down the stairs, and he smiled. Josie must have gone up to Little Joe's room. Joe would cheer her up, Adam knew. Joe wouldn't press her to tell him what was bothering her, but he would listen intently if she offered it up. Remembering the candy he had bought, Adam grabbed the sealed paper cone off the sideboard where he had left it as he carried in the other groceries, and then he bounded up the stairs.
Little Joe's door was halfway open, so Adam walked right in. Pip was lying in the middle of the floor, and Josie was sitting next to Joe on his bed; they were both leaning against the headboard with their legs stretched out. Joe's plaster-encased left leg was still propped up on a small stack of pillows, but he had a smile on his face and was tugging playfully on Josie's nose when Adam stepped into the room.
"Hey, Adam!" Little Joe greeted him with a grin. "'Bout time you came to visit your poor, invalid baby brother."
Adam grinned and tossed Joe the paper cone. Joe caught it neatly and unfolded the flaps holding it closed. His eyes lit up when he saw the colorful gumdrops winking up at him, and he immediately popped one into his mouth. Joe's eyes closed in contentment as his lips pursed around the sweet little morsel.
"Mmmmm," he sighed. "Thanks, Adam!"
"Anytime, little buddy," answered Adam. He caught Josie's eye. "Call you when dinner's ready?"
Josie nodded, and Adam turned and headed back downstairs.
Little Joe held the paper cone out to Josie. "Gumdrop?"
Josie just sighed and laid her head on Joe's shoulder. A fat tear rolled down her cheek. Surprised, Joe set the gumdrops on his night table and put his arm around Josie's shoulders.
"What's all this about?" he asked.
Josie wiped her cheek on her sleeve and launched into the saga of what had happened between Simon and Fionn that afternoon. She had told Little Joe last night about punching Fionn after he kissed her. Joe had laughed at that; he liked Fionn, but he also believed strongly in punching people who deserved it. Joe's eyes widened as Josie related what Simon had said to her that afternoon. Joe had been friends with Simon since they were kids; he couldn't believe that Simon would say something so boneheaded.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it, Josie," Little Joe reassured her. "He was just angry. He wasn't thinking clearly."
"That's what Hoss said," Josie replied. "But I don't care. If he said it, at least part of him must have meant it. And I can't be with someone who thinks he gets to order me around, especially about which patients I can and cannot treat. I've worked too hard to get where I am to give it up."
Joe sat silently, unsure what else to say, but pretty certain Josie didn't need him to say anything anyway. He kept his arm around her and let her sniffle into his shoulder for a while before straightening up a bit and tilting Josie's head up to face him.
"I have an idea," he said. "You and I get the Ponderosa all to ourselves next month when Pa drags Adam and Hoss off on that cattle drive. How about we leave old Baxter in charge and go on a little adventure?"
Josie raised a brow over one bloodshot hazel eye. "What do you have in mind? You won't be able to ride much yet, even by then."
"Nah, not a riding adventure. Besides, you'll be riding all the way to Sacramento with Adam in September. I had something much more original in mind."
Josie raised her other eyebrow in reply, and Little Joe grinned.
"Couple years ago, Hoss and I started building ourselves a canoe," he explained. "Never did finish it, but it's still there in the back of the barn. Once I'm out of this cast, I figured I could finish it up, and you and I could have a little excursion out on Lake Tahoe. Paddle around, camp out. What do you say?"
Josie's face lit up. "That sounds great! And it would be a good activity for you while you're trying to build the strength back up in that leg."
"Always the doctor, aren't you?"
"Around you? Yes." Josie grinned. "Gee, canoeing with you, Sacramento with Adam. I should have let Fionn kiss me sooner."
Joe chuckled and grabbed the gumdrops. This time, Josie accepted one.
"I've got a little gift for you, too," she mumbled around her candy. She hopped off the bed and scampered into the hallway. Joe heard her call for Adam, who appeared in the doorway a few moments later with Josie bobbing behind him. "I think Joe's tired of his bedroom," she explained. "Could you help us out, please?"
Adam grinned. "Hang onto your gumdrops, Little Brother!" he instructed. He took two quick strides across to Little Joe's bed and slipped one arm under his arms and the other under his knees and lifted his brother from the bed. "Sheesh. That cast makes you heavy."
"Josie's fault," Joe replied, sticking his tongue out at Josie as he draped one arm behind Adam's neck.
Josie and Pip followed closely as Adam bore Little Joe down the stairs. Before Adam set his brother down on the settee in the living room, Josie placed a few pillows at one end to prop up Joe's leg. Joe sighed contentedly and stretched his arms over his head as he settled onto the settee.
"Thanks, Adam," he said.
Adam grinned and ruffled Joe's hair before plunking into the blue armchair nearby.
All her distractions gone, Josie felt the heartache come roaring back. Her stomach knotted up, and she felt as if someone were pressing down very hard on the top of her head. An enormous yawn split her jaw, and suddenly it was all she could do to keep her eyes open.
"Well, I'll see you guys at dinner," she sighed. She waved sluggishly at Adam and Joe and trudged back upstairs. When she reached her bedroom, she closed the door behind herself and Pip and collapsed on her bed, overwhelmed by exhaustion. Bone-deep weariness descended on Josie whenever she suffered a heavy emotional blow, and now she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep for days. It was as if her brain needed to shut down the rest of her body so it could divert all her energy to processing the grief.
Pip rested his chin on the edge of Josie's bed and whined. She cracked her eyes open and stared into her dog's deep brown eyes. His tail started to wag, and he licked Josie's face as he whined again, clearly distressed that he could not figure out what was wrong with his mistress. Josie remembered Ben's admonition that Pip stay off of the household furniture, but at that moment she did not care. She scooted over to free up some space, patted the bed next to her, and called Pip up onto the bed. The enormous dog's eyes lit up as he leapt easily up onto the bed next to Josie and lay down. Josie wrapped an arm around him and snuggled up against his fuzzy body.
"You're so big it's like cuddling with Joe," she muttered to Pip. "Only shaggier."
She regretted saying "shaggier" the moment the word escaped her lips. Shaggy hair made her think of Simon and the way his dark blond hair always flopped into his eyes no matter how recently he had had his hair cut. This, in turn, reminded her of the way his brown eyes sparkled just before he kissed her. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and she buried her face in Pip's fur and started weeping again.
"How could he say that to me, Pip?" she hiccupped. "I thought he loved me." Her sobs took over, and Josie cried herself to sleep, her arm still wrapped around the wolfhound and her tears wet on her cheeks.
Downstairs, Adam had risen to follow Josie, but Little Joe had called him back.
"You hover too much and you'll find Jimmy outside her door with a bottle of chloroform again," Joe warned.
"I can't stand to see her hurting."
"Me either, but there's nothing any of us can do to stop it. Heartbreak's one of those things you have to go through alone."
Adam stopped with his hand on the newel as he continued to stare up the stairs. Joe's sagacity surprised him, and he had to admit his youngest brother was right. After Adam's broken engagement, Ben, Hoss, and Joe had all offered comfort, but ultimately, the only true healer was time. Adam sighed and slunk back to the armchair.
He ran his hands through his hair and looked over at Joe. "It's not a matter of if I kill Simon, but rather how. Shooting him would be too easy, too quick. Maybe drowning. I'm bigger than he is; I could hold him under long enough."
Little Joe's green eyes grew huge, and he stared at Adam in horror. "Adam, you're kinda scaring me a little."
Adam smiled as he cast his gaze down toward his boots before looking back up at Joe. "Sorry. I just promised Simon that I'd kill him if he ever hurt Josie, and I think I'd be setting a bad example for you and Hoss if I didn't keep my word."
Joe grinned. "I think you getting hanged for murder would set an even worse example."
"Yeah, probably," Adam chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. "Still, I wish there was more I could do."
"Yeah," Joe agreed, his smile vanishing. "Yeah, me, too."
Adam and Joe passed the rest of the afternoon playing checkers. When Little Joe beat Adam for the third time in a row, he knew his older brother must be distracted worrying about Josie and told him just to go check on her already. Adam's long legs took the stairs three at a time, and in a few quick strides, he was at Josie's bedroom door. His knock elicited no answer. Worried, he cracked the door open and poked his head in. Josie was sound asleep on her bed, her arm still wrapped around Pip, and her cheeks crusty with dried tears. Pip looked up and thumped his tail when he saw Adam. The dog's tongue lolled out his open mouth; Pip was clearly pleased with himself for taking such good care of Josie. Adam smiled at him and scratched the dog behind the ears.
"Good boy, Pip," he whispered. He crossed the room to Josie's dressing table, grabbed her buttonhook, and proceeded to somewhat clumsily unbutton her high-topped leather shoes. "Couldn't have worn your boots today, could you?" he muttered.
Josie replied with a mumbled "Urmph" and rolled over but did not wake up. Adam gently pulled off her shoes and flipped the end of the bedspread over her feet so her toes didn't get cold. He set the buttonhook back on Josie's dressing table and then leaned over Pip to kiss Josie's cheek before quietly slipping out of the room.
Just as Adam closed Josie's bedroom door behind him, he heard Ben and Hoss barrel their way into the house. He hurried down the stairs to greet them and ask them to please keep their voices down so they wouldn't wake Josie. With as badly as Josie was hurting, Adam was not about to deny her a few hours' respite from her pain.
Ben nodded to Adam as he stepped off the last stair onto the living room floor. "How's Josie?"
"Sound asleep," Adam answered.
"Is she all right?"
"As all right as can be expected, under the circumstances," Adam sighed as he sank into the armchair once more. "How's Fionn?"
Ben crossed to his leather armchair and sat down to pull off his boots. "He's ok. Hoss and I pulled Simon off him before he took any real damage." He dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed his fingers through his silvery hair. "I just don't know what got into that boy. I can understand him being upset about Fionn kissing Josie, but to say the things he said to her…" He trailed off, still flabbergasted by the afternoon's events.
"Hoss has a theory about that," Adam said.
"Yeah, he told me. And he's probably right. But that boy better come up with a damn good apology if he wants to set foot on the Ponderosa again."
"Agreed."
The four men opted not to wake Josie for supper. Having Little Joe back with the family for the evening meal, albeit on the settee rather than at the table, helped fill the void of Josie's absence, though their thoughts kept returning to the young lady upstairs.
As they were finishing up their meal, they heard a creak at the top of the stairs and turned in perfect synchronization to see Josie standing there with Pip beside her. Her skirt and shirtwaist were wrinkled, and she had put her velvet slippers on over her stockings. She rubbed one gummy eye with the back of her hand as she plodded downstairs. Her pillow had rumpled her hair, and a halo of frizz encircled her head, and once again, Adam could see nothing but the little six-year-old girl who had slipped her tiny hand into his when they first met. Adam, Hoss, and Ben jumped to their feet as she approached the table, and Adam pulled out her chair. Unable to stand, Little Joe waved vigorously at her.
"You hungry?" Adam asked, laying a hand on Josie's shoulder as she sat down.
Josie shrugged her shoulders, which Ben took as invitation enough. He filled a plate for her while Hop Sing prepared a bowl of food for Pip, who was ogling the pork chops on the table. Josie did not dive into the meal with her usual gusto, but she finished off a little better than half the food Ben had heaped onto her plate, and he decided that under the circumstances, half would do. The men tried to carry on normal conversation, but it was difficult to talk about ranch business when Josie sat there silently, glumly carving her pork chop into tiny pieces with surgical precision.
After supper, the family retired to the living room as they usually did. Hoss sidled up to the settee to play checkers with Joe, Ben reclined in his armchair with his pipe, and Adam stretched out on the rug in front of the fireplace with the newspaper he had brought home from town. He had purposely left the blue armchair open for Josie, but, speaking for the first time since she had emerged from her room, she bid everyone goodnight and went back upstairs. The men watched dolefully as she retreated, but no one said a word; as Joe had pointed out earlier, there were no words they could say to relieve Josie of this burden.
Trudging up the stairs took much more effort than it usually did; Josie still felt like there was a weight pressing down on her head and iron blocks tied to each foot. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she knew she was about to burst into tears again, and she darted into the washroom and furiously pumped water for a bath she didn't really need; she just didn't want the rest of the family to hear her crying again. Josie undressed and got into the tub, where she ducked under the water and released the violent scream that had been fighting all day to get out. She resurfaced, sputtering, grabbed the bristly brush and the bar of soap, and scoured her skin raw, as if she could scrub away the horrible day. Finally, her skin red and stinging, she heaved herself out of the tub, wrapped up in a towel, and leaving her clothes on the washroom floor, she plodded into her bedroom, pulled on fresh drawers and a nightgown, and fell into bed, leaving her towel in a damp heap on the rug. She thought that her long siesta might prevent her from falling asleep, but she was still so exhausted from the day's upheaval that she dozed off almost immediately.
Adam found Josie's discarded attire about two hours later when he carried Little Joe up to bed and then ducked into the washroom to splash some water on his face and chest before heading to bed himself. His cheeks pinkened when he spotted Josie's unmentionables perched brazenly atop her crumpled skirt. Swallowing his embarrassment, he rolled the delicate garments and Josie's shirtwaist up in her skirt and carried them to her bedroom. Not bothering to knock, he slipped in and laid the bundle on her dressing table. He grabbed Josie's discarded towel and glanced down at her before leaving the room. Even in her slumber, she wore a frown, and his own face fell to match hers.
"I wish I could fix this," he whispered before leaving the room. He returned to the washroom, hung up Josie's towel, and washed up quickly before heading to bed.
Adam had not been asleep more than an hour when a squawk from the creaky floorboard outside his bedroom door woke him. A small shaft of light slid along the floor as the door opened just enough for a slim figure to slide through. Adam didn't say a word; he just threw back the covers and scooted over to make space for Josie, who slipped into bed next to him, buried her face in his nightshirt, and began to cry. Adam kissed her forehead and wrapped his strong arms around her.
"It'll be ok," he whispered, tucking her head under his chin. "Somehow, it'll be ok. I promise."