One Step Closer - Turns in Fate

by MissjudyK

Ben, Hoss, and Joe head to Boston after hearing that Adam has experienced a horrendous loss. He has lost the Wadsworth family he loved in Boston, and may lose the company he's been running as well, once the will is read. The tragedy does gives Ben a chance to get to know his grandchildren, but he worries that this may be one loss too many for his son.

3. One Step Closer - Turns in Fate Part 3

Fifteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 8 AM

The family was finishing breakfast when Sam and Melinda Green walked through the front door. The doctor didn't need to take a second look at the anxious faces at the table to know that something was wrong. He did a quick headcount and asked, "Where's Adam?"

Melinda sent the children outside with Jillian before letting the couple read the note and telling them about the incident that had provoked it. She looked intently at Sam when she'd finished. "What do you think is happening to him?"

He paced the living area as he considered what he'd heard, and finally faced the group. "It could be a number of things, so let's eliminate some of them." He raised his finger to indicate the first option. "A stroke could change his thinking and personality very quickly. Did you notice any slurring of speech or changes in his face or body…like one side wasn't working as well as the other?"

Melinda looked at Joe and then shook her head. "What Adam said was off, but his words were clear. He moved without problem and used both hands."

A second finger joined the first. "There's the possibility of a brain tumor. It might have been growing for some time, and has gotten large enough to cause a personality change. But I suspect you would have seen other indications of something amiss. Has he complained of headaches lately?"

Melinda blew a loud breath as she shook her head. "He mentioned having a bad headache when he got home yesterday, but I can't remember the last time he'd had one before that."

Sam reached for Adam's note and read it over again. "Who is this Ross, he mentioned? He seems to play a pivotal part in his fear. Might that hold a clue?"

Hoss cleared his throat. "I know this story as well as anyone. It weren't that Pa and Joe weren't there for Adam after it happened, but me and my older brother…well we could talk to each other about the hard stuff we'd gone through." The others leaned forward expectantly as he continued. "Adam and Ross had been friends for some 15 years. He'd started as a hand with us just before Adam left for school and by the time Adam got home Ross had saved enough to buy some land and start on his own ranch. My brother even stood up for Ross when he married Delphine, and he did anything he could to help them get the ranch goin' and makin' money. But things went bad in a flash one spring when Adam got home from helping Frankie over the winter in Frisco. He went to their house to ask Ross if he'd help us find a passel of steers we was missin', but when he got there, Ross accused him of sneakin' around with Delphine behind his back, and shot at Adam when he denied it. Turned out he'd accusin' his wife of awful things for months, and then beating her when she'd denied them. Adam tried to protect Delphine by bringin' her to our place," Hoss stopped and swallowed hard as he remembered the pain his brother had gone through. "But Ross snuck over when we was all out and beat her near to death. She died in Adam's arms and he realized what a sick, crazy animal his friend had become."

Melinda gasped. "He never told me about it, so it must have remained a raw scar. But how could he think he'd be capable of doing that to me?"

"That was the hardest part for Adam; he never thought his friend was capable of killing either, especially not the woman he loved," Hoss said as he shook his head. "Paul Martin told Adam the same thing Sam just mentioned: that it might'a been a brain tumor. But he thought it was likely Ross was so sick in his mind that he couldn't reason anymore. Ross had always seemed an honest, hard workin' sod-of-the-earth kind'a fella, but he'd been the one stealin' our beef and changin' the brand too."

"How could Ross suspect Adam of this…affair when he wasn't even home?" Melinda asked as she continued to think about the incident and its impact on her husband.

"A delusional mind will fabricate a story to best suit what they're experiencing," Sam explained. "Distrust, and accusations against family and friends is very common. In fact, it's probably what you and Joe experienced last night."

"So you think he is going insane like Ross?" Ben asked in an incredulous tone.

Sam began pacing again as he considered the known facts. "I don't think the situations are alike, although the symptoms seem similar. Hoss said that the friend's deterioration had been going on for months, but we all know that Adam was fine until yesterday evening."

"So then what did happen?" Hoss wondered aloud.

"There is the possibility that the death of the Wadsworths and the pending loss of the company might have become too much for him to deal with." Sam looked around the group. "The accumulation of severe stress can produce instantaneous catastrophic depression, hopelessness, and the inability to process information correctly. I've heard this called, a 'mental breakdown.'"

Sam's words startled the listeners, as evidenced by the round-eyed stares and rigid posture they assumed. He continued. "He might have held himself in check because he had so many details to oversee. But once that rush of activity ended, he lost focus."

"I don't think that's true," Melinda said with conviction. "He's always faced things square on."

"But he did say something last night about how we would see him as a failure." Joe's fists clenched as he said words he hated even as he uttered them. "Maybe that's what was different this time." His jaw clenched to match his fists.

Melinda wanted to slap Joe and call him out for his betrayal, but something in what he'd said rang true. "Could this sort of…break down…happen in a matter of hours?"

"It could have been building since he got the news. Still," he paused as he thought again. "I agree that Adam isn't the sort to fall apart. There's one more thing these sudden symptoms could indicate, and I'm actually leaning to this possibility: a head injury."

Ben stood abruptly. "This would have happened recently?" He received a nod from Sam, and his tone changed from hopeful to doubtful. "We've all been together the last two days, and there was no incident."

Sam crouched in front of Melinda, taking her hands. "I want you to think about being with Adam last night, and tell me what you saw—not just what you heard."

She closed her eyes, reliving the confusing episode. "He looked tired."

"How so?" Sam prodded.

"He had trouble keeping his eyes open, and he let his head drop forward like it was heavy…right Joe?" Her brother-in-law nodded. "I kept thinking that he wasn't fully awake." She looked at Joe again for confirmation.

"You're doing fine. Now tell me how he looked when he was holding your arm."

She shut her eyes again, and realized she had been looking directly at him when he'd been gripping her wrist. What she recalled made her gasp. "There was something wrong with his eyes! The color is so dark sometimes that it's hard to distinguish the pupil, but one was darker…maybe larger than the other. Could that mean something?"

"Yes, but go on. How did he act when he realized he was hurting you?"

"It seemed as though he didn't know he'd been doing it, and then moaned like he was in pain, using his fists to push against his temples."

Sam rose again and looked at the Cartwrights. "Are you sure he couldn't have been injured yesterday?"

Ben closed his eyes just as Melinda had done and let images of the previous day flow through his memory. He looked up suddenly, and said, "We need to talk to AJ. The only time we didn't see Adam was when he went to retrieve the boy from a shed."

"And we did hear some kind'a commotion in there," Hoss added.

Hoss brought his nephew into the room and held his shoulders gently as he stationed the child in front of Melinda. "Your mama has a question."

"Did your daddy hurt himself yesterday when he was in that shed with you?"

AJ shook his head. "I didn't do anything to Daddy."

Hoss gave the boy's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "We're not sayin' that, AJ. We just need to know if he bumped his head."

The child was frozen. His eyes darted between family members as he kept silent.

"It's all right, darling. Tell me about it." Melinda encouraged as she turned his face to see only her.

"It's a secret between Daddy and me," he finally confessed in a whisper to his mother.

"You can't keep that secret, honey. Daddy might be sick because of what happened. That ends all pacts you made with him."

"You don't want me to play with cats; I'm sorry, Mama. If I hadn't been doing that Daddy wouldn't have gotten hurt." Tears began to run down his cheeks. He dropped his head as the confession tumbled from his lips. "Daddy stepped on the mama cat in that shed and bumped something that made a pipe fall on his head." The truth exhausted the child and he turned to Hoss, hugging his uncle's legs as he continued to cry.

A collective sigh rose from those assembled. Sam smiled. "It seems we may have an answer." He pulled AJ from Hoss, and knelt next to him. "Can you show me where that pipe hit your daddy?" AJ indicated the area of his head just behind the crown. "What did he do when it happened?"

"He fell on his knees and grabbed his head." He sniffed loudly as he hiccupped away his remaining tears, and then looked at his mother. "Daddy said a bunch of bad words, but I tried not to listen." He returned his attention to his physician uncle. "He sounded like he was gonna throw up—you know, sort of urpy, and he fell back down a couple times when he tried to stand up. The he said he was fine but we shouldn't tell anyone, 'cuz he'd never hear the end of the teasing for tripping on a cat."

Sam was nodding. "You've been very helpful, AJ. I think we can fix your dad up just fine." What he didn't say was, if they could find him.

Once Jillian took AJ outside again, the doctor gave his diagnosis. "I think Adam took a serious head blow. The initial pain subsided and he went on with his day. What he didn't know was that vessels on his brain were bleeding or perhaps the tissue inside his skull swelled after the impact. Whatever the cause, it began pushing on parts of his brain that affect his memory, reactions, and judgment."

"Won't that continue to get worse?" Abel asked.

"It might, or it may have stopped already and he could be on the mend. But we have to find him to know which is true."

"He wrote that he needed a place to think." Joe's comment was seconded by Melinda.

Miranda spoke for the first time. "Didn't his note say he was concerned about becoming a monster? Might he have gone to the police and asked them to lock him up?" She gulped as her lips turned in a disgusted twist. "Or maybe he went to that mental asylum on the far side of town."

Melinda shuddered. "We'll check both places, but I believe that he wanted help, not just confinement."

No one expected to hear a small voice issue from under the dining room table. "Maybe he went to the monstery."

Melinda walked over and looked where her daughter was hiding. "What are you doing, my little one?"

"Sitting under the table," the child replied without guile.

"Lizzy likes to lurk under here," Melinda explained to the others, before turning back to the little girl. "Even though she knows she's not supposed to eavesdrop. You must have forgotten that, as well as that you were to stay outside with Jillian and your brother." She pulled her daughter from her hiding place and moved the child onto her hip and waited for a reply. Lizzy shrugged but offered no defense.

"Where do you think your daddy went, child?" Sadie asked. The older woman looked at the others. "Lizzy is very observant, and usually has sound ideas. Maybe we should hear her out."

Her mother sat, letting the girl straddle her lap. "What did you mean, honey?"

"I heard Aunt Miranda say that Daddy's a monster, so maybe he went to the monster place."

Melinda tried not to grin. "What is a monster place?"

"You know, Mommy. Its' on the way to Grandpa Frank's house. I asked why the men wore dresses to work in the garden, and Daddy said those weren't dresses. They were just still in their robes."

"Oh…the monastery." She hugged the girl to her as she smiled at the others. "The order of Saint John the Evangelist has a retreat center…" Her words stilled as her mouth dropped open. "From the mouths of babes."

Sam began to smile too. "St. John's offers sanctuary for those in turmoil. They participate in a monastic life of prayer and reflection while trying to find peace. The monks would protect his identity, keep him safe, and offer counseling."

Ben was up and heading for the door with his sons at his heels. "We'll get a cab."

Melinda passed her daughter to her sister as she went for her coat. Sam was at the door by the time she made it there. "We'll let you know when we find him," she called back to those remaining at the house.

Sixteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 9 AM

The Abbot of St. John's was waiting outside the monastery for his buggy to be brought around when a cab pulled in. "Mrs. Cartwright," he greeted Melinda as he opened the door and looked inside. "How fortuitous that you've arrived. I was about to travel to your house to report on your husband."

"Then Adam is here?" Melinda asked hopefully.

"Let me get this vehicle going in the right direction and I'll join you." He spoke to the driver and then looked more closely into the crowded coach, and chuckled. "Looks like I'll need to sit on someone's lap, but we'll all get there together." Ben and Joe squeezed closer together to open up a space for the Abbott, who pushed back until he was planted on the edge of the seat. "To answer your question; Mr. Cartwright was here, but he's at the hospital now, and that's where we're heading."

Sam Greene knew Father Matthew from his work at the hospital, and took the lead. "We suspect that Adam is suffering from a head injury that left him confused and angry. He left last night but left a note that made us think he might have come to you for help."

Father Matthew tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and nodded. "Mr. Cartwright arrived around 1:30. It isn't unusual for the monastery to receive guests during the night. The long hours of darkness often increases despair to unbearable limits. Mr. Cartwright gave his name as Ross Marquette. Of course I knew who he really was, just as I recognized you, Mrs. Cartwright. We are not a cloistered order, so we are active in the community. I have seen you and your husband at charitable and civic events; I've also seen him perform with the Boston Choir several times, and his picture is often in the newspaper. Yet with the state he was in, I thought it best to acknowledge the alias."

"Was he coherent?" Sam asked.

The Abbot's immediate answer came in a slight side-to-side head movement. "He was extremely anxious and agitated, but what he seemed to fear most was harming someone. I was unable to elicit a cause, so I focused on the easing the terror that sprang from it. He asked us to lock him in a room so he could rest without worry."

Melinda spoke in a near whisper. "Were you able to calm him?"

"He looked to be exhausted, and I knew he had to sleep before we could begin to sort things out. I took him to a private room with a locking door where he finally relaxed and lay on the bed. I read to him from the Book of Psalms; hoping the cadence of the verses would sooth his soul and calm him mind. When he dozed off, I stationed one of our larger brothers at his door and let him sleep. I knew he needed medical help more than spiritual assistance this morning when I couldn't wake him. Two of our brothers took him to Massachusetts General."

Ben stared at Sam with fatherly intensity. "I don't suppose this is the news you'd hoped for."

"He's in the best place now, Ben." He leaned forward to peer out the window. "We'll be there in ten minutes. Perhaps Father Matthew can lead us in prayer until we arrive."

"Will you three stop pacing," Joe growled at his father, Hoss and Melinda. "You're all going to collide, and if Hoss ends up on top, two of you will be flatter than pancakes."

Sam had taken the four Cartwrights to his office to wait while he found out what was happening. They hadn't been happy about not being allowed a visit, but Sam had convinced them that being in Adam's room would hinder the examination.

Melinda gave Joe a withering look for his comment and walked to the window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass. "I should have known he needed help," she whispered. "How could I sleep while he was suffering on the wrong side of a locked door?" Silent tears wet her cheeks as she watched leaves swirling from the oaks and maples in the brisk wind.

"Fall was Adam's favorite time of year," she said as she glanced back at his family. "He said the elevation of the Ponderosa supported mostly evergreens, and he'd missed the brilliant colors of New England." Melinda returned her focus outside as she heard Hoss say his brother had always talked about how purdy it got in Boston come October. She watched as a curled leaf lost its hold on a branch and drifted to the ground below, and wondered if the dying foliage was an omen. She pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve, dabbed at her cheeks, and lifted her mind to sweeter memories of the season.

Adam and AJ had raked leaves together in the fall since the family had returned from England. Elizabeth had joined in the tradition this year, and they'd added to the fun by burying themselves in the pile and then jumping out when she'd come outside looking for them. After they'd played enough to reduce the leaf pile to a reasonable size of crumbled pieces, they'd burned it, and came in the house afterwards wearing the smoky aroma of fall.

We've had so many happy days together and as a family, she thought. But happiness never offers a guarantee of continuance. She'd been concentrating so deeply that she'd missed Sam's entrance, and jumped when he put his hands on her shoulders from behind.

"We can give you a report," he announced as he guided her to his chair, and then perched on the corner of his desk. "This is Dr. Sidney Merchant." He indicated the man who'd accompanied him, and then completed the introduction by pointing to each of the Cartwrights as he named them and their relationship to the patient. "Sidney is a Mass General neurologist at who has extensive experience with brain trauma, so I'll let him explain what he thinks is happening."

"May we see him first?" Melinda interrupted.

"Soon, Mrs. Cartwright," Dr. Merchant promised. "There are decisions that will need to be made, and we should discuss those first." He chuckled as he saw the faces around him pale, and the patient's father take a quick seat. "Perhaps I made that sound more ominous than I should have. Let's begin with what we know." He cleared his throat and asked Sam for some blank paper and a pencil. As he spoke, he drew the profile of a head. "We found a lump on the back of Mr. Cartwright's crown, just about here." He indicated the position on the paper. "It is large; so the blow was substantial. Dr. Greene confirmed that the initial trauma involved vertigo and nausea, followed hours later by personality changes. These symptoms indicate a severe concussion. The monks who brought him in indicated he fell into an unconscious state towards dawn, and he remains that way. This is worrisome, yet his reflexes are good; he does react to pain stimulus, and although Sam mentioned a possible inequality in his pupils earlier, they are equal and responsive now."

"This all sounds like good news." Ben commented in a tone laced with hope.

"It is. Another positive is that I can't feel any fracturing of the skull. On the other hand, the fact that his symptoms escalated over time may indicate that the damage done inside his skull formed a pocket of blood that is pressing against his brain."

Melinda said, "I remember Sam mentioning that earlier. How serious is this?"

The moment of silence created by her question provided a pretty good idea of the answer, prompting Ben to begin stand abruptly and begin pacing again.

Dr. Merchant resumed his drawing. "Let me show you what's going on, so you'll understand what I might have to do." He drew a swirl of lines on the back and front of the head. "A person's cranium is not a solid mass." He smiled at the two younger men, and offered an aside. "Although Dr. Greene tells me that you two think your brother's head is made of New England granite." Joe and Hoss blushed as Dr. Merchant continued. "The brain moves inside the skull, and when it is struck from behind, it propels forward with equal force, striking the opposite interior wall of the skull." He sighed. "That forward force can rupture blood vessels or cause the brain to swell as the injured cells break down—akin to when an ankle swells after a sprain."

"Which is worse?" The question came from Joe.

"I can't fix a brain that's swelling. But I might be able to help if it's an accumulation of blood." A collective breath by his listeners raised both hope and cheek-color.

"What can you do?" Melinda looked first to Sam and then to the neurologist. "And how soon will he recover?"

A pause preceded Dr. Merchant's answer. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Mrs. Cartwright. Your husband could simply wake up from this. I noticed a few scars in his scalp that would indicate he's sustained other head injuries without lasting effects. Dr. Greene said this accident happened around 2 PM yesterday, so we're not even at 24 hours yet. We'll wait that long before moving forward. But…if he should begin to convulse or remain asleep...I can perform a trephination15* to clear the accumulating blood and cauterize leaking vessels."

Ben gulped. "What is that word you used?"

"Trephination means that I would bore a hole through his skull to access the outer surface of the brain and make repairs."

The sound coming from Hoss sounded like a bull calf being castrated. "Ah naw. You can't be serious about drillin' a hole in his head! That's…I don't know…." He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes. "Barbaric is what it is."

Joe was holding his head in his hands, and Melinda's jaw hung open in utter shock. Only Ben was able to deal with the idea of the suggested surgery. "You've done this before?"

"Many times, especially during the war when men experienced head injuries from shrapnel and the concussion of cannon fire."

Melinda regained her voice. "And it works?"

A nod. "There is the need for increased vigilance after such an opening is made, but with care a person can lead a normal life."

"How…how do you…?" Hoss asked, leaning back against the wall looking pale enough to become the next person to lose consciousness.

"I would fold back a flap of scalp and then use an instrument to bore the hole."

"How would you know when to stop? Couldn't you accidentally drill into his brain?" Joe asked the question, while taking several deep breaths.

Dr. Merchant's voice was thick with understanding. "I know this sounds unreasonable…even barbaric as you've said, but this can relieve the symptoms that would otherwise condemn a person to a slow and painful death or to spend the rest of their life as an invalid when the affected area of the brain dies from lack of blood flow."

Ben had regained his equilibrium enough to ask, "How big is the hole?"

"Hopefully about this size." The doctor indicated the dimension by bringing his index finger to the base of his thumb. "But if the damaged area is bigger, the hole can be enlarged to the size of a silver dollar."

"Do you use that…core…you remove…to…," Melinda groaned, "….as a plug…afterwards?"

"The bone disintegrates with the drilling process so there's nothing to set back in like a puzzle piece. We can only reclose the scalp. In time there will be calcification within the hole, but Mr. Cartwright would need to be careful of that spot. I suppose you could compare it to the soft spot that babies have."

"When will you decide whether to do this?" she questioned further.

"I have told you what I 'can' do, Mrs. Cartwright. Your husband is unable to give his consent, and therefore it falls to you as to 'whether' I do it. You have a few more hours. I'd say we'll look towards mid-afternoon. If he hasn't awakened by then, you'll have to decide."

She could hear herself thanking the doctor, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. This man had left her holding her husband's future. Melinda knew she wasn't a weak person. She'd faced each obstacle in her life with confidence, but this was different. She glanced at the clock as she heard the others asking a few last questions and then offering their farewells. It was barely 10:30. So much had happened in the hours since they'd found Adam's empty office that she thought it had to be evening. Yet she knew this was only a delay, not a reprieve, and the clock would continue to tick away the minutes until "mid-afternoon" would bring the need for sentencing. She rose unsteadily and grabbed Sam's arm. "Take me to him; now!"

Sixteen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 2:30 PM

He looked to be sleeping—just sleeping, not stuck in world away from them. His head and neck were resting on towels holding crushed ice intended to offer some palliative comfort for the pain both of his doctors agreed was present. But since the brunt of the force had been delivered to the back of his head, there was any visible bruising.

His whole family had been with him for a while. Ben and Melinda had agreed that the others should come for a short visit…just in case. Abel, Sadie and the children had arrived around noon and spent an hour at the bedside before Melinda asked that they return home. Massachusetts General did not allow children to visit on the wards, but Sam had snuck Elizabeth and AJ in after making them promise to keep their voices low. The two youngsters had sat on the bed with their father, each holding a hand; Lizzy telling how she'd known where to look for him and concluding that he didn't look like a monster at all, while AJ sought absolution for revealing their secret.

Melinda had been hopeful that the voices of his family would push Adam toward wakefulness, but his expression hadn't changed other than for the occasional tightening around his eyes, making it look like he was experiencing pain or an unsettling thought in his sleep. It had been quiet since the others had left, and the four remaining Cartwrights had spent the hours praying and pacing. Ben checked his pocket watch and gave his daughter-in-law a nod towards the opposite side of the room. Hoss and Joe followed her lead.

"It's nearly time," he said once they'd assembled. "We've held out hope that this decision would be unnecessary, but, you should be ready."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know what to do. I would try anything to save him, but will he want to live with a hole in his head?" She laughed without humor. "That sounds like some sick joke." Her breathing was coming so fast that she felt she couldn't get enough oxygen and leaned against the wall for support. "If there was a guarantee that he'd be fine again, I'd say yes without a second thought. But Sam said he could have a stroke during or after the surgery, or if it's due to swelling, the hole will do no good and could make things worse."

Ben held her hand. "There are no guarantees, only chances."

"So you're saying I should allow it?"

Ben pulled Melinda to him. "I'm only saying that you can't worry about what 'might' happen later. First you have to save him."

Melinda walked unsteadily to the chair at Adam's bedside. "I feel that either decision will be wrong…condemning him to an unimaginably miserable life."

Hoss went to her side. "There's one thing you ain't tried yet." He wiped her tears away with his thumb as she looked up at him. "You gotta talk to Adam. He's always done best when he knows what he's up against. He might not realize that his time is runnin' out for this, and who's to say he can't hear us."

"I get what Hoss is saying," Ben cut in. "Tell him what's being suggested; which way you're leaning, and why. Don't hold back the details because he needs to know those too." He took her hand as he said, "We'll leave so you can have some time alone."

A glance at the clock reminded her there was no time to waste. Once the room was cleared, she brought his hand to her lips, and then rested it against her cheek. "You know I love you more than anything in this life, Adam. And I find myself in the position of determining how you might spend the rest of yours. It would be a simple decision if there was something visibly wrong with you—something horrible and obvious. But you look like you're sleeping." She chuckled. "You probably don't realize that I watch you sleeping some nights, wondering how I am so blessed to have you next to me. But that doesn't change what I'm being asked to decide for you. Time is short, and you need to know a few things."

A deep breath or two and she began again. "You might need an operation that involves boring through your skull to be able to stop the bleeding in your brain…and leaving that hole there when they finish. And here's the rub, my love; the cure may be worse than the condition, and you could spend the rest of your life paralyzed or with diminished intellect. Those are the unknown outcomes I have to consider. Even if all goes well initially, there's still the danger of a brain infection or stroke afterwards, and your life might be restricted because of the opening in your skull. Still, doing nothing could ensure death or living on in an eternal coma.

Another quick glance at the clock. "Dr. Merchant will be back soon, so you're running out of time to simply wake up. I know you've provided well enough for us that we'll never want for anything if you don't make it through this. I appreciate that except that none of us will be all right without you." Her tone softened as she finished. "I will make a decision when it's time, and I pray that you can forgive me if it's the wrong one."

She moved to the edge of the bed and nestled her head on his chest as she listened to his heartbeat and breathing. Please help him wake up, she beseeched in mental prayer as she held him tightly.

Sam walked in quietly a few minutes later. "It's time," was all he said as Dr. Merchant came forward holding a sheet of paper and pen that he extended to her once she was sitting up. "We shouldn't wait any longer or the damage will be permanent."

"Sam?" she said, turning to her physician and friend.

He nodded. "It's a chance, Melinda. He got through other injuries without intervention…when he was younger. He's not old, but he's not as resilient as he used to be, and this time he might need help."

Her hand was trembling so violently as she signed the consent that she nearly broke the nib off the pen. She kissed Adam, and then ran from the room to where the others were waiting. "What have I done?" she whispered as she fell into Ben's arms and sobbed.

"What Cartwrights always do, Melinda," he said soothingly, stroking her hair. "You gave him a chance."

Seventeen – Saturday, October 19, 1872 – 3:30 PM

The clock had become her enemy. While previously it had moved too quickly, now each glance showed only a minimal advance and she wished the procedure to be over so she could find out whether her decision had saved or condemned the man she loved. Her heart was beating so hard that it seemed to fill her throat, making it hard to swallow or breathe. A quick look at the others reminded her that they were in similar agony.

Sam had accompanied them to a waiting room near the surgical area and gone over the schedule so they wouldn't worry about the time elapsed before hearing any news. He'd said the trephination wouldn't begin until after a swath of hair had been shaved, and he'd been sedated. In answer to Joe's question as to why sedation was necessary when Adam was already "out," he said that there was still reaction to pain and they couldn't allow any movement.

This state of breathlessness was wearing on all of them and she set her mind to relieving it by relying on her maternal instincts. "You must be starving, Hoss. Lunch is long past and you didn't have much for breakfast."

The big man smiled. "It's grumblin' in there all right, but I don't think I could get a bite down my gullet just now."

Joe laughed. "Are the rest of you feeling like I am? I swear I can barely take a full breath and think I'd pass out if I tried to walk around right now."

A loud breath brought their attention to Ben. "Maybe we could talk about something else for a while. It doesn't have to make sense; it just needs to get our minds off what happening in there." He indicated the operating room with a nod.

"Did you let the crew know we'll be here a little longer, Pa?" Joe asked.

"I'd sent a telegram earlier saying we'd stay until the will was read, so I don't have to do anything now. I've got our books along so I can pay our bills and wire the banks to arrange money transfers for the beef we're selling. The rest of the work is routine, and these hands have been with us long enough to know what to do."

"That's fer sure. I gotta say I'm itching to be out of the city, but I'm still not missin' the work part of the ranch," Hoss admitted as he blushed. "Sleepin' in a soft bed and bein' here with all'a us around is good."

The group was still nodding in agreement over Hoss's thoughts when Sam and Dr. Merchant walked in.

Melinda examined their faces for a clue. "You're done too soon," she groaned. "Sam said it would take at least two hours. Was it too late?"

"In a way," Sam answered as he smiled. "I'll let my partner explain."

"Apparently your husband had great reserve about his hair being cut. About the time the nurse had the scissors positioned to snip the first locks, he grabbed her wrist, and said, 'Where's Melinda.' The poor woman nearly fainted."

"He's awake?" Her joy was restrained but palpable.

"Awake and demanding to see all of you." The Dr. raised his hand as the Cartwrights eyed the door. "Give them a few minutes to get him back to his room, and then you can have your reunion."

Melinda hurried to shake the surgeon's hand on his way to the door. "He'll have lots of questions about what you'd planned to do, once he's feeling up to a good conversation. I'd decided to let you do the procedure because Adam will always accept a premise when he's convinced that it's well-thought out by a skilled person who has considered all the facts."

Afternooon had turned to evening with Adam being awake at intervals. The men of the Cartwright family had finally gone home to share the news and let the couple have a few private moments.

The patient was still dizzy and weak, but he was able to understand what had happened, and why. Melinda sat on the edge of the bed holding his hand as she had hours earlier. This time he was looking back at her, and her heart was bathed in thankfulness. That didn't stop her from making her feelings known. "You gave us all a scare, you know. And to hold your son to a secret about something so serious," she scolded.

He used his free hand to motion her closer and said softly, "Don't holler at me."

"I'm speaking firmly; not hollering." Her mock anger was evidenced by her grin.

"I have a headache that's worse than all the hangovers I've ever experienced combined into one." He winked then, and pulled her closer for a kiss.

She remained nose-to-nose with him as she whispered, "If you ever disappear again, I'll divorce you."

He pulled her back for another kiss. "Didn't you say you liked me just a few days ago?"

"I did say that and it's still true, but I am mad at you."

"No you're not." His tone turned serious. "You were afraid of me, not mad at me. I don't remember everything, but I'll always remember seeing your fear."

She placed her cheek against his. "I was afraid for you, not of you, Adam. You were battling something deep and dark that blinded you to your actions." She sat up and breathed deeply before continuing. "When Sam was trying to figure out what was wrong with you, he asked me to recall what I observed last night. The startled look on your face after I cried out, made me realize that you didn't know you were holding my arm so tightly. You never meant to hurt me." She swatted his shoulder lightly as she frowned. "You know we could have figured out what was going on if we'd known what had happened. You should have gone to see Sam right away. Imagine a grown man suffering through all this because he was afraid to look stupid in front of his brothers."

His cheeks colored briefly with her admonishment, and then he grinned. "I suppose you're right about that, but I figured the lump would hurt less than the barrage of cat jokes I'd have endured if they'd have found out."

He closed his eyes, nearly dozing off, but roused again, pushing her up enough so she was looking at him. "I heard you telling me to wake up earlier, and I fought the devil himself to pull out of that stupor. I could hear the fear in your voice as you explained how your decision might cause me serious harm. " His voice quieted as he added, "That's the same terror I was experiencing when I left. In the end we both chose the course we hoped would give us the best chance."

She took his hands, holding them to her cheek. "Hoss told us about your friend, Ross, and I can see how that affected your decision. Your friend had a different sickness that quieted any sort of reason. But even in your darkest confusion, you were able to apply solid judgment." After giving him a moment to think, she asked, "You seem to be doing fine, but are you feeling like yourself? No more suspicion or anger? I don't want you to hold back to save my feelings or make it seem like you're better than you are."

"The anxiety is gone because I understand why my thoughts were so muddled." He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he breathed deeply. "I did think I was losing my mind. My relief at reclaiming my memories makes me want to jump on the bed and holler for joy." He winked at her. "But we know I'd end up curled on the floor, retching into my slippers if I tried that." He paused, deciding how much to share about his recovery. "To be honest, the dizziness is unnerving me more than I let on. I feel like I'm falling from a great height whenever I move my head, even though I know I'm flat on my back in a bed. During these episodes the room swirls around in a circle whether my eyes are open or shut, increasing the unsettledness." He sighed quietly and slid a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "I can't remember what I said to you or accused Joe of last night, but I think I pointed my gun at him. Is that true?" His groan at her nod was prompted by mental pain rather than anything physical. "He seemed to be all right when he was here, but is he? I mean…was he just being nice while seething under the surface? Please don't lie about this, Melinda. I need to know how angry he is."

She chuckled softly. "Joe knew you weren't yourself. He was concerned for you, and became very protective, not angry. He loves you fiercely, Adam, but he can only tell you by teasing you."

A nod brought an impatient snort as he resettled his head to combat the vertigo. The exhaustion from trying to lie still, won out over wanting to stay awake and talk. "I know it's not allowed in this fine institution, my love, but might you join me on the bed—respectably on top of the sheets of course, and stay while I fall asleep?" He traced the smile on her lips. "I feel less like I'm floating when you're touching me. Go home to our children once I'm sleeping." His voice thickened with emotion. "Tell them I heard what they said when they were here too. It felt like I was dreaming, and yet by that time I was able to make some sense of the fragments that had been assaulting me. Hearing their voices brought it all together and I knew I would make it home."

There wasn't much room at the side of the narrow bed, but she managed to angle in next to him. He pulled her close for a last kiss, and then nestled her to his chest with her head tucked below his chin. She rested her hand against his cheek and he was soon breathing rhythmically in sleep.

Eighteen – Wednesday, October 23, 1872- 9 AM

Melinda smiled as Adam walked into his hospital room. He'd recovered more equilibrium each day since being admitted, and although still a little wobbly at times, Dr. Merchant had promised to release him if he could make several circuits of the long corridor without getting lightheaded. He was using a cane to forestall a tumble when things got, as Abel called it, shaky in the stern, and she figured to replace the curved wooden stick with a jauntier version if he had to use it for any length of time.

Ben had accompanied her to the hospital while Hoss and Joe had stayed at the house to give Abel, Sadie and Jillian a break from watching AJ and Elizabeth. He grinned at his daughter-in-law when Adam entered, knowing that his son was recovered enough to get "sprung," as they referred to his discharge. "Is everything ready for you to leave?" he asked as the patient sat heavily on the edge of the bed. The older man could see the beads of sweat across his son's upper lip and the way he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, probably indicating that he had pushed himself harder than he should have. Yet he also knew that Adam would do better at home with his family near, and eating Sadie's cooking.

When the exhaustion eased, Adam looked up at the smiling faces above him and chuckled. "You two seem pretty excited about me coming home. Did you miss me?" He laughed when they denied it, but added, "I'm just as excited as you are, but I need to wait for Sam and Dr. Merchant. The nurse told me that the good doctors are in surgery…so…you might as well get comfortable."

All three Cartwrights jumped when the door to the room flew open and Harold, the business manager from Wadsworth Engineering rushed in.

"Thank goodness you're all right, Adam!" He moved to the bed and flung his arms around his boss, and then blushed. "Sorry for that," he said as he looked down and took a step back, "but I'm so doggoned glad that you're in one piece."

Adam drew back in surprise. "What made you think I wasn't, Harry?"

The middle-aged man walked around the room, using his arms for emphasis as he tried to explain. "When your father came by the office on Monday to let me know you were in the hospital, he said you were doing fine." He looked toward Ben. "I trusted that, and honored your instructions to tell others that Adam had decided to spend a few days with his family."

"So what's got you so shaken?" Adam asked, his face shadowing with concern.

"Ah, boss, you gotta come to the office if you can…and right now. Wendell Otis Wadsworth, as he introduced himself, walked in this morning, acting like he owns the place—and then he said he does! I replied that the will hasn't been read yet. But he hitched his thumbs in his lapels and proclaimed that he is Frank's nearest relative on the Wadsworth side, and that puts him in line for it. He was pretty clear in his thoughts that Frank had made no bequests beyond his children so he'll have first claim."

Adam squinted as he thought back over Frank's cousins, and where they fit into the family. "I saw Wendell at the service, but he didn't say two words to me. Frank called him Worthless Wendell, and had no use for him, but...I think he's right about having the strongest Wadsworth lineage."

"Is that what would determine the heir if no one was named?" Melinda asked as she sat next to Adam on the bed.

"If this was England, it would, but we don't follow succession here. He can make a legal claim to the estate in court, but it's way too soon for him to be claiming ownership of anything. It could take months or years to be settled."

"It's even worse than that, Adam. He came with Clarence Foley, from Foley and Lombard Engineering. From what I could get out of their fast talk and demands, it was Foley who approached Wendell two days ago, saying that you were unfit to continue on as director of the firm, and someone had to take control."

Adam blew out a deep breath. "How did Foley get into this?"

"Foley was here," Harry indicated the hospital with a sweep at his hand, "visiting his mother-in-law on Saturday, and saw your family arrive. He recognized them from the memorial service and 'asked' a few questions of the staff. They said you'd gone crazy and there was something wrong with your brain and you needed to have holes drilled in your skull. Foley implied that you were physically and mentally incapable of running anything now."

Ben nearly growled his comment. "More likely he paid someone for the details and interpreted them to his benefit."

"Was it that bad, I mean when you first got here?" Harry asked with an open-mouthed, miserable look.

Melinda responded. "Adam was in serious condition, but this…Foley didn't get full story."

"I don't suppose that mattered," Adam said with a sour laugh. "I saw those two talking after the service, and I imagine Worthless Wendell told him all about his place in the Wadsworth family tree. When Foley got some salacious information to make a play for the company, he went after the weakest, most stupid and pliable Wadsworth family member he could think of. I'm sure he'll push Wendell to make a claim to the estate—maybe even finance it. It's actually a pretty good plan considering what he thought was happening with me. He could manipulate Wendell and use my incapacitation to offer his engineering expertise to keep Wadsworth from collapsing. He'd have had plenty of time then to divert our customers to Foley/Lombard and leave Wendell with a company as worthless as he is. He stood and got his balance. "We better go. What were they doing when you left, Harry?"

"I tried to stop them, but they bulled their way into your office." He turned his head, unable to look Adam in the eye. "I cleared my desk and locked all the ledgers in the cabinet; and then locked my door and left after they asked to see the books. But they can get at all of it pretty easily if they have a mind to. I'm sorry I couldn't get it in the safe, but I figured it was better to stash it and come see how you were doing."

Adam instantly left his role as patient and returned to being the director of a successful company. "Melinda, would you please finish up with the doctors? Come to the office when you're done." He gave his wife a quick kiss before turning to his father. "Jimmie will take you to Bill Murdoch's office after he drops me and Harry off. You'll recognize him from the memorial service. Bring him to us even if you have to pull him out of a meeting and carry him over your shoulder."

"And so it begins," Melinda whispered as the three men left. She knew Adam's adrenaline would keep him going for a while, but she also knew he needed more rest before he took on the rigors of managing things again. She gathered his personal items from the dresser and tucked them in the valise she'd brought, before settling into the only comfortable chair to wait. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she considered that perhaps a hearty bump on the head had been the one way to get Adam to rest. He'd slept at least ten hours each night at the hospital, and napped during the day. He looked good despite a few lingering effects. His color was better, he was smiling more, and until this latest news, he'd had to leave the worries of the business behind. Her eyes drifted upwards as she thought; did you have something to do with this, Frank? It would be like you to knock Adam on his head to make him slow down.

Adam left his cane with the receptionist and walked unassisted through the workroom, not stopping until he was standing in front of his desk. The two men had their backs to him as they were paging through the schematics of various projects on his drawing board. His voice was hard and commanding. "Stop what you're doing and get out of here before I have someone get the police."

Wendell nearly tripped as he whirled around. "But…I thought you were…"

"A drooling corpse?" Adam said with a snarl and turned toward his competitor. "I'm afraid your ill-gotten facts were incomplete, Foley. Perhaps you'd like to verify that I have no extra holes in my skull." He turned carefully, pointing at the back of his head, and then stared at the two red-faced men again. "At least you have the decency to be embarrassed. Would you like to come closer to check more thoroughly?"

"That won't be necessary," Foley returned as he raised his head imperiously; his embarrassment waning. "I was concerned when I'd heard about your hospitalization, and thought someone from the family should be made aware of the situation before the company fell prey to an unscrupulous party."

"I think that's exactly what happened, Foley, since I'm guessing your motives had little to do with saving this company." Adam moved around the desk and pulled a clean sheet of paper across the tangle of prints the men had been perusing. He leaned back on the drawing board and addressed Wendell. "What did he offer you to get in here?" The still-present blush on the other man's face deepened as he remained mute. "You may as well tell me; I'm going to find out one way or another. Foley isn't the only one who can pay people for information."

Wendell pulled a paper from his pocket and handed it to Adam. It contained an agreement to install Foley as head of Wadsworth until legal matters were settled, and a purchase price to be paid by Foley-Lardner once Wendell held title. "This is it?" Adam scoffed. "You were willing to accept this without knowing how much the company is really worth, or suspecting Foley's real intent?"

"I need the money." Wendell dropped his head. "Things haven't ever gone well for my store. Frank was aware of it, and often gave me money when I got too deep in the hole. I assumed that since I'm his closest family, I'd be in line for the engineering firm. I don't know how to run something like this, so when Foley suggested a solution; I accepted…or at least I'm letting him have a look around to see if it's worth what he's offered."

Adam's eyes darkened to black pools. "Frank always said you had no business sense, and he bailed you out because he didn't want the Wadsworth name spilled across the business section with a foreclosure or scandal. He figured others would associate your name with us." He looked again at the offer and shuddered. "If you'd take a deal on this firm for a pittance because you need some cash, you're a bigger fool than Frank suspected."

"It doesn't matter what you think, Cartwright." Foley grabbed Adam's shoulder, and pointed out the windowed partition of the office to the opposite wall of the workroom. "That sign hanging out there says this is 'Wadsworth Engineering.' You managed to wheedle your way into Frank's good graces, but you can't ever make yourself a Wadsworth. I heard Frank's story about his cowboy-scholar who was some kind of business genius. But face the facts, Cartwright; you were just another one of Frank's creations. You know what I'm talking about: one of his legendary 'projects' that gave him bragging rights about how astute he was in choosing his help. You were nothing more than a lapdog that performed tricks so Frank could pat you on your head, and say, 'Good boy.'"

Foley saw Adam's eye twitch slightly as some of his jabs had found vulnerable flesh, and he went in for the kill. "Why, I bet he even said you were part of his little family, and called you, son." His ugly laugh filled the room. "You were at his memorial service; hell, you planned the whole thing, so you heard the testimonials. How many of them said they felt like family? How many of them testified to Frank's encompassing nature and ability to make them feel like they were special?" His grin matched the laugh in vileness. "Yet they'd all been left behind when Frank found a new project. You lasted longer than most of them, and happen to be the last, but I hope you never thought that he would leave this business in your hands forever. He'd have taken it back in a heartbeat when he found someone who interested him more than you."

Adam shoved his fists into his pockets to keep from slugging the guy. Yet Foley had left a stinger behind, pulsing with venom that created a metallic aftertaste of truth. Frank had been gregarious, and he had helped a lot of people. Was it possible that Frank had only seen him as one of his "diamonds in the rough"? He mentally removed the poisonous barb to stop the spread of toxic doubts, and stood taller to increase his height advantage over the short, rotund Wendell, and the average-heighted Foley. "It may be just as you say; I knew Frank for a long time, and worked for him for eight of those years. Yet I can't speak to what Frank 'thought' and neither can you. I will not let you disparage his memory or plant suspicions about the motives behind his kindnesses. What I do know is that I am still in charge here, and I will continue to do the best I can for the employees and customers at Frank's company until I'm asked to step down."

He was about to say more when he saw Bill Murdoch and his father rushing toward his office. It was his turn to point. "I'll hold further comments until Mr. Murdoch gets in here."

The lawyer tried to catch his breath as he demanded, "What's going on?" Adam handed over the paper Wendell had given him. After reading it, he turned toward the possible Wadsworth heir; his hands shaking with anger as he pointed to the paper, and shouted, "You had no right to enter into any sort of agreements on behalf of this company. I'm sure Mr. Cartwright has already told you to remove yourself from these premises, but I'll say it again. The will is going to be read on Monday as I've already set forth. You will stay away from here until then or I'll have you arrested." He turned towards Foley with a distasteful look on his face and spoke with sneer. "I have to admire your quick action. I've heard rumors about Foley/Lombard being the buzzards that hover, hoping to pick at the bones of a business in unfortunate and unforeseen circumstances. I've heard further that you'll do whatever you can to make sure that such companies fail, and then swoop in with lowball offers to 'save' them. Wendell Wadsworth is uniformed, but you know the true worth of this company. Furthermore, if you had legitimate concerns about Mr. Cartwright's health or abilities, you should have approached me. This was dirty even by your standards."

Murdoch drew a deep breath to continue. "I've worked recently with a young reporter who does investigations into illegal or dishonest business practices. I'm thinking he'd like to sink his teeth into the meat of this story. By the time he finishes his exposé, perhaps Foley/Lombard will be the ones looking for a buyer."

Foley stared derisively at Murdoch. "You wouldn't dare."

The feisty lawyer met the stare and laughed. "I already did. When Ben Cartwright showed up at my office and gave me a quick report, I had my secretary send a messenger to this young man. He'll be meeting me for lunch if he's available." He laughed again. "I figured someone would try to take advantage of the situation as soon as the details of the Wadsworth family's death became known. I even suspected it would be you. Honest businessmen work hard to keep things legitimate and above-board. Frank, and the others I work with had become sickened by what was going on in Boston, and we'd already talked about what we'd do if we ever got the opportunity. I think Frank would be pleased that this will provide the circumstances for your demise."

Foley tried to answer, but nothing discernable exited his mouth as he stormed from the office. Wendell offered a feeble apology, noting he would be pleased to work with Mr. Cartwright if the will did declare him the owner, before scurrying away like a rat released from a trap.

Melinda arrived in time to see the two would-be usurpers yelling at each other as they took her empty cab, and she hurried past them to get inside. She heard Adam laughing and speaking in a louder-than-normal voice fueled by the excitement of whatever had happened.

"Thank you for getting here so soon, Bill. I think Wendell was ready to hide under the desk when he saw me, but Foley had enough bravado for both of them." Adam pointed to the note still being held by the lawyer. "What I can't understand is that Wendell would accept such a low bid. I've said I'll leave if that's what the new owner wants, but I'm beginning to realize that I can't let it go to someone who will give it away."

Bill nodded sagely. "I've seen it all over the years. Some families will fight over who gets the last penny, while others can't see the value in what they're going after and do just what Wendell tried."

Adam turned to his father. "Do you recall your offer to help me bid on the firm, Pa? I'd like to take you up on that."

Bill Murdoch interrupted before Ben could answer. "That's not possible, Adam. I shouldn't say anything, but I don't want you and Ben getting ahead of yourselves."

Ben's brows narrowed. "I'm not sure what you're implying."

The lawyer looked pointedly at Adam. "You cannot purchase Wadsworth Engineering."

"Did Frank say that in his will?" Adam asked incredulously.

"Let's just say I know it to be true."

All the ugly things Foley had said began burning through Adam's veins. Had he been nothing to Frank except a moneymaker? Had he been wrong about Frank's deeper feelings, and had he been considered unworthy of purchasing the company he had brought back to life. Only one word came to his lips. "Why?"

"I don't mean to sound mysterious or upset you. You'll understand on Monday."

Adam shook his head and immediately regretted the movement as the room swam around him. A deep breath settled things. "Can you at least tell me it's not going to Wendell?"

"Client privilege doesn't allow me to confirm or deny anything at this point. Patience, Adam." Murdoch pulled a watch from his vest pocket and checked the time. "I have a client coming soon, and then I intend to meet with that reporter." He shook hands with both Cartwright men and gave Melinda a peck on the cheek before addressing Adam again. "By the way, thank you for having your brother stop on Monday with your note explaining what happened. I was surprised to see your father today, yet the news he brought didn't surprise me. Shady takeover attempts are common in instances like this. I've dealt with Foley before and it's time to shut him down."

Once Murdoch was on his way, Melinda forced her husband to sit. "I know you have a lot on your mind, but you need to hear your discharge instructions. They were sympathetic as to why you'd left so hurriedly, but Dr. Merchant gave orders that you take the remainder of the week off. Your episodes of dizziness indicate that your brain is still healing." She could tell by the absent look on his face that he wasn't listening. She pulled his chin up gently so he had to look at her. "What's bothering you? You have the same look you did on the day you got the telegram from France."

He grinned sheepishly, and then sighed heavily as he looked at the two people who knew him best. "Foley said I was nothing more to Frank than a pet he'd taught to do his bidding, and that he would have eventually ousted me from running the firm." He leaned his head back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I don't want to believe that…but it would explain why Frank wouldn't allow me to own his business. On the other hand, he always had the right to do as he pleased with what belonged to him."

"Murdoch didn't say you couldn't own the business," Ben offered as he leaned on the desk and focused on his son. "He said you couldn't 'purchase' Wadsworth Engineering. I believe he was telling you something he couldn't say outright. Might Frank have wanted his company disbanded in an instance like this?"

Adam shrugged and then smiled admiringly at his father. "There might be a clause dissolving the firm in this sort of situation. He wouldn't have wanted it falling into the hands of someone like Wendell who would destroy Frank's good name along with the business." His eyebrows drew together much like his father's did when in thought. "The part that doesn't add up is Bill telling me to go ahead with new bids since Frank's death. Why would he do that if there'd be no Wadsworth to complete the contracts we've secured?"

"I can see the purpose," Ben countered. "You said yourself that the business could be sold off in pieces by the new owners, so why not by Frank? Another company might not need the office building, but they'd fight for the contracts and client list. Maybe you can bid on the financial assets and even some fixed assets like equipment at the sites, but not Wadsworth Engineering itself."

The son's smile grew as he considered his father's words. "You're still planning to come with Melinda and me to the disposition? If there's an opportunity, you can help me formulate a reasonable offer."

Melinda tugged at his arm. "That's enough. It's time to go home: Doctors' orders."

"I need to talk to Harry about our accounts. I won't be long." He laughed as he thought back to their arrival earlier. "When Harry and I got here, he darted into his office and held watch like a badger protecting its hole. No one was getting at our books without going through him first."

Melinda sat in Adam's chair when he left and looked around his office as she imagined the memories this space held for her husband.

Ben had left to talk with one of the engineers he'd met on his last trip to Boston, and she grinned at him as he returned. She'd given up the chair to pace, and now came to a stop, leaning against the broad window sill. "You know that I neither paced nor leaned on things before I married your son. His habits are contagious."

Ben pursed his lips and nodded. "I've always paced, so I can take some of that blame. And I noticed that Abel leaned on things when I first sailed with him. I assumed it was part of his sea legs. But when I started keeping Elizabeth's company, I saw that he did it on land too. He's not as obvious as Adam, but you'll see him lean on the chair if he's standing by the table or the stair rail if he's over there. In fact, he was leaning in the doorway talking with me this morning while I was getting ready to leave."

She laughed heartily. "I think you're right! And AJ's doing the same thing already. Jillian is continuously critiquing his posture, yet it's likely the tendency is inherited." She quieted as she looked down at the street and watched the people and vehicles moving past. "Thank you," she said quietly when she looked up again.

"For what?"

"For clarifying Bill's words." She watched her father-in-law's face for tells as to whether he believed what he'd proffered. When there was no indication either way she asked pointedly, "Do you think Frank would disband the firm?"

Ben walked over and perched next to her. "Hearing about this situation with Frank's family made me consider what I'd want done if there were no heirs to take over. I concluded that I can't leave that to chance, and I'm pretty sure Frank was far ahead of me in this respect. What I said to Adam may or may not be accurate, but we both know he still needs to rest, and I wanted to suggest a positive alternative. You could see his doubt beginning to bubble just below the surface—not about Frank—but about himself."

She nodded slowly. "He's his own harshest critic."

Adam returned and smiled as he observed Melinda and his father sitting side-by-side in conversation. "What are two plotting?"

"No plots, my love," she replied as she sent a quick wink towards Ben. "We're talking about what we can do in the last few days your family is here."

"What did you decide?"

Ben looked at his daughter-in-law with a toothy grin. "Yes, what did we decide?"

Melinda joined Adam, taking his arm as she steered him to the door. "We'll go riding on Saturday, although you'll have to keep your horse at a walk." When he sent her a challengin look, she elaborated. "You can hurt yourself again is you gallop with Samson or jump him over fences and downed trees to impress your brothers. Between then and now, you need to rest."

"I'm not staying in bed," he growled.

"I didn't say you had to. But there'll be no sneaking down to your office during the night to work, and no strenuous activity. Walking is good, so we can do a little sight-seeing with Joe and take him to some of the restaurants and places he's heard us talk about."

"There is something I have to do." His tone was firm but not unkind as he stopped their progress and turned to her. "I have to be here a couple hours tomorrow and Friday. I asked Harry to get everyone together in a few minutes so I can tell them what went on today, and why I haven't been here. I'll let them know that I'll be gone the next two afternoons, but they'll do better if I'm visibly in charge again. Major upheavals are coming soon, and I don't want any question as to who's at the helm when they begin."

Nineteen – Monday, October 28, 1872 - 11 AM

He glanced at the clock again. He was on edge, and had to concentrate to stop his feet from tapping out his anxiety. The last several days had gone well, and he'd managed to put the will out of his mind as he'd showed off his new home town. Joe had been impressed by the historic sites they'd seen, and had tried to imagine his older brother as a young man on the Harvard campus when they'd toured there. He'd found out about Adam's less studious side when they visited a couple of historic pubs frequented by students.

One of the tavern owners had been a bartender during Adam's college years and regaled Hoss and Joe with stories of Adam's early bouts of overindulgence. Gus had told them in his heavy Boston brogue, "I rememba that your brotha loved to sing. The more he drank, the louda he got. But that didn't stop him, and he'd keep goin' until he'd get too hoarse to continue. His friends made bets on how long it would take for his voice to go."

The story had brought laughter from his brothers and a parental glower from his father, along with his playful comment of, "So that's why you were always short on cash." But the teasing and laughter had died away when Gus had taken them to a part of the room bearing the names of students who'd topped their class rankings at graduation. They saw the etched names of John Hancock, John Adams…and much further over…Adam Cartwright. Hoss had stared at the wall and said, "Well, ain't that just somethin'."

Saturday had been a magnificent day warmed by the October sun and brightly colored with the last leaves of fall drifting from the trees. No one had mentioned that it was probably the last time they'd ever explore the woods and grasslands of the Estate on horseback, and Adam hadn't let the brief moment of realization about it impede his enjoyment.

But while he'd kept his thoughts about the future at bay over the weekend, they were crowding in now, and making his heart pound. The effects of the pipe-to-his-head incident had waned by Friday, and he'd had no further bouts of vertigo since then, making him assume that the brief swirl of the room at times was more an effect of his rapid heartbeat and breathing than anything more sinister. A print of a new riverside warehouse and dock drew his attention back to his desk, and he began to calculate again. Figures had always settled his mind, and they proved a calming balm as he dug into the mathematics of the harbor wall. It was nearly noon when he looked at the clock again and noticed Melinda and his father walking toward his office.

"Are you ready for lunch?" she asked from the doorway. "We'd better go now or it'll get too late."

He didn't feel like eating; wasn't sure he'd be able to push any food down past the lump that had lodged in his chest as he once again realized the life-altering change that would occur in a few hours. He smiled as he put his pencil down and donned his jacket. "I doubt I'll eat much, but I need to move around, and coffee sounds good."

Harry came out of his office as he saw the Cartwrights walk by, and motioned them over. "You'll come tell us what happens, won't you?"

"Sure Harry." Adam looked around to see the eyes of everyone in the work area focused on him. He could see the concern and knew it was as much for him as for themselves.

One of the engineers that had been with the firm for many years rose at his desk, and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "We all want you to know that no matter what happens today, boss, we appreciate everything you've done to keep this place going; not just since Frank's death, but in turning this into a thriving business again." His sincere look was replaced by a large grin as he reached into the large lower drawer of his desk. "We also want to give you something to use when you go visit the worksites again." He withdrew the object from the drawer and presented Adam with what appeared to be a bowler hat covered with tar pitch.16* "We made you this so you won't get clunked again."

Adam placed it on his head and gave a sound knock to demonstrate its effectiveness. This caused another engineer to applaud, and soon the room was awash in whistles, laughs and shouts of encouragement.

Melinda slipped her hand from Adam's arm as he moved to the center of the room. He smiled while removing the headgear. "Thank you for this. You may have meant it as a joke, but I think you might have come up with an idea for a very important piece of safety equipment." He tucked the hat under his arm. "Thank you for your kind words as well. I may have had a plan to make this place better, but a plan doesn't become a success without great people as its foundation. You deserve more credit than I do for your impeccable engineering, leadership, and never-failing support of our customers. Thank you all."

***2 PM – Bill Murdoch's Office***

The Cartwrights had been escorted into the lawyer's office by his secretary who'd told them that Mr. Murdoch had gone to the court house and was expected back at any minute. Adam checked his watch to verify the time, and sent his wife a questioning look. "I thought Bill said we'd all meet at two. It's nearly that now and we're the only ones here."

"It must be the right time or Jeffrey would have said something," Melinda offered.

"I'm sure there's a good reason the others haven't arrived yet," Ben cautioned, trying to reduce the tension he was sure his son was feeling.

Bill came through the door as they were still talking, and rushed to set a thick portfolio on his desk. "Sorry I was delayed," he said as he removed his coat and hung it on the rack behind him. "I suppose you'd like to get this over with?" His warm smile and the comment served to break the tension he'd seen on the faces of his guests.

"Where are the others?" Adam's brows rose as he posed the question.

"They were here this morning, but I wanted to meet privately with you."

Adam's brows froze in their raised position. It's worse than I imagined, he thought as his heart began to pound again. "Your comment makes me wonder how soon the new owner wants my office cleared out." He hadn't meant to sound prickly, but he had, and he figured it best to stop talking.

Bill began to laugh; softly at first, and then gaining volume until he had to stop to take a breath. "I don't know what you're expecting, Adam, but let's go through this." He opened a folder and withdrew a handful of documents before looking up. He tried to look serious but he couldn't stop grinning. "There has been a lot of speculation about whether Frank had the foresight to fashion his will for a catastrophic event, but there should have been no doubt. The possibility of his family perishing together always haunted him, so he wasn't about to leave his estate open to his 'thieving relatives,' as he called them."

The lawyer looked down as he sighed. "He and Marian were excited about that trip, yet Frank was uneasy about it too." Bill saw Adam shifting in his chair and laughed. "Enough stalling: let's get started. The relatives of Frank who were here this morning are sharing the proceeds from the sale of the firm and the house in England. You were probably aware that he'd accepted an offer on the London estate before they'd come back to Boston the last time. He and Marian had remained stateside so long to get that settled before heading to France. Their intent was to find a country home with a good stable in England after that. Our firm in London sent us the paperwork on the sale and Frank came by before they left to sign it. While he was here, he made sure the rest of his wishes were set in stone as well. It was fortunate that things worked out as they did prior to Frank's death or the London property would have gone into the succession nightmare."

Adam nodded and looked over at Melinda. "I'm not surprised it sold so quickly; it was a lovely house in a perfect neighborhood."

"The amount of each familial bequest will be increased once we sell off the investments originally made by Frank's grandfather here. Frank thought that these proceeds should go to Wadsworth offspring. Family holdings owned by Marian at the time of her marriage to Frank will be disbursed to her cousins for the same reason. These were generous payouts and the people who were here earlier seemed satisfied." He grinned widely. "Wendell was exceptionally pleased to have ready cash coming his way."

"Is the house here included in the sell-off?" Adam asked.

Bill answered the question with one of his own. "Are you aware of the whole story about the estate that Frank inherited?"

"He told me there'd been heavy debts attached to both the house and firm when he took over, but he never elaborated."

"Simply put; Frank's father was so broke that even the sale of family holdings at that time couldn't have paid off the debts. The old man had continued to run things long after he should have passed the reins. The rumors about his deteriorating mental ability were borne out in the bad financial decisions he'd made as others took advantage of his failing judgment. Frank had to have his father declared mentally unfit to salvage the family name and take over the business while there was still a chance of recovery. He'd married into a wealthy family, and had inherited money through Marian. They used that to pay debts and keep things afloat while Frank got the engineering firm back on firm financial footing. His impeccable business sense improved conditions fast. Frank always said that he and Marian had 'bought' the house and business from the failed estate, and therefore it no longer 'belonged' to the greater Wadsworth family."

Adam laughed. "Frank used to tell me he could sell a fur coat to a grizzly bear." He breathed deeply. "I know Frank loved giving money away as much as he loved making it, so I imagine the sale of the rest of his investments will go to the causes he and Marian supported."

"There are a several grants being distributed from the will from the sale of various stocks, but there is still a huge amount being bequeathed to one individual." The laugh returned when he noted the blank look on Adam's face. "You really have no idea do you?"

"What are you talking about, Bill?"

"The reason I had you come separately is that the heir to all remaining Wadsworth holdings and investments in the United States…is you! I said you couldn't 'buy' the business, because it was already yours!"

Melinda grabbed Adam's hand and sent Ben a shocked look behind her husband's back. She had seen Adam blush, and then pale at the news, and she wasn't sure what emotional or physical phenomena would happen next. When he said nothing, she prompted, "Adam?"

His head moved up and down. "This is…. I…I…don't deserve this."

Bill came around to sit on the front of his desk. He was holding a sheet of paper that he set next to him. "Frank had made a number of decisions long before he left on that trip. One was to sell the London house and Frisco business to free up capital for his new endeavors, but the other was to transfer the business here to you. The legal paperwork on this was already filed when he died, and I just got confirmation from the court today that the transfer will stand rather than being part of the the will. Wadsworth Engineering would have been yours either way, but since it's legally yours now, you can get on with running your business. Frank intended to return after the trip and give you the documents." He shook his head. "I'm surprised Harry didn't figure out something was going on. I had to ask him for a lot of paperwork when I started the transfer. Yet, he was used to giving me the same things to finalize customer deals, so it probably didn't register that it was more than the norm." He retrieved the page from the desk where he'd placed it. "You're beginning to see that Frank was prepared for any eventuality, and in that spirit, he left this note to explain his gift in case he couldn't get back as soon as he'd hoped." He reached for his glasses, slipped them on, and began to read.

"Dear Adam,

I am a very happy man. Your work has released me from a life that had always been more of a means to an end than my avocation. I love business; the art of the deal, the negotiations and besting everyone else to win the contract. But much like my son, I can't say I appreciated the type of business I inherited. Still, I gave it my all.

When you came back to Boston and joined Wadsworth, I began to see what enthusiasm and fervor for this field could accomplish. Your precise nature and attention to each client as you engineered exactly what they'd had in mind, inspired me. You took a good company and brought it to the front of the class in expertise and profits. I think I saw this potential in you from the moment I met you as a scrawny kid come to town to get an education. I watched with interest, and cheered you on as you progressed to a man to be reckoned with. You have never disappointed.

When I found out how unhappy my son was with his lot, and with the encouragement of my beloved Marian, I decided it was time both father and son start fresh. That left me unsure of what to do with the business. It was something that had become an anchor to my future instead of filling my sails with enthusiasm. Yet I couldn't sell it because it was still part of me. I finally understood that it already belonged to someone who honored its tradition and its family ties, while also ensuring its growth and excellence. Wadsworth Engineering belongs to you, son. I have made you a Wadsworth through choice, not birth, and Marian and our children are in complete agreement on this move. Take the reins and make us proud.

In all love and hope for your success and prosperity,

Frank and Marian."

Bill set the letter back on his desk. "There were some stipulations on a separate document requiring you to provide a percentage of the business profits for the upkeep of the house and donations to charitable organizations over a period of years, but those are superseded by the will. You should also know that all four Wadsworths signed off on the business transfer so there can be no backlash from the other relatives who might think they have a claim on it. In fact Frank left a formal document laying out his specific wishes in regards to his remaining estate that leaves no opportunity for a lawsuit."

Ben had sat quietly as he'd taken in the incredible news for his son. But he was intrigued by this statement. "How did he do that?"

"He made specific bequests to each of his remaining kin. Since everyone was named, and they each received cash along with family mementos from the estate, they can't say he forgot them or that he would have wanted them to have more." Murdoch smiled sadly. "Of course he didn't know that his fine planning would come under scrutiny so soon, but the disposition is ironclad."

"So I remain in charge of the business?" Adam had stopped listening as he tried to understand the thoughts that were bouncing in his mind, giving him a mental concussion much like the physical one he'd recently experienced.

"You own the business. But you own the house and properties, and the remaining financial estate too. We've already removed all the items Frank and Marian had set aside as family bequests. But the business transfer is complete, and I've already sent a notice to the paper, naming you as the new owner. I've also written a letter for you to send to your clients confirming your status. Jeffrey had several printed and they'll be delivered to your office for distribution."

Melinda's head was spinning now, and she wondered if this is what Adam had been experiencing since his accident. She leaned forward. "Do I understand correctly; Frank left the house in Boston to Adam too?"

Bill nodded. "Frank actually designated Adam as a 20 % recipient of his estate some years ago. Of course Marian was named first at 100%. In the event that she died at the same time as he did, then each of his children would receive 40%, and Adam would get the remaining 20. But since Frank wanted each possibility covered, Adam, Frank Jr., and Amelia all had survivorship. Adam is the sole survivor, so it is all his. And again, all members of the family signed off on his inclusion so no one can make claim that Adam used force or collusion for his consideration." Bill waited a moment. "I revealed all this to those who were here this morning, and I emphasized that a court battle would be futile."

Ben found his voice. "How'd they react to that?"

Bill laughed. "Frank left a precisely worded note to explain his wishes, so they were mute."

The elder Cartwright grinned. "What did it say; if I may ask?"

"He said that he felt about most of his relatives the same way as he did about the need to wear full length underwear under his trousers. While a few of them were a good fit in his family's life and brought great joy, most of them rubbed him sore like the abrasive wool fabric of his suits, and necessitated the need for a buffer between them and his skin." Adam came out of his stupor to laugh out loud. "There's more, though. He wrote that he imagined they were all sitting there waiting for a payout that they thought they 'deserved' for sharing a family name. But his wife and children were the only ones who 'deserved' this consideration because they'd put up with him. And he wrote finally that there was one person included in his estate who didn't expect anything, nor would this man feel he deserved to receive any of it. But this person was the only one who had earned consideration." Bill waited until Adam looked directly at him. "He meant you."

Adam breathed deeply, releasing it slowly through pursed lips. "I'm having trouble believing this is real. Yet, I had experienced Frank's generosity all along, so it is only surprising because of the scope."

Bill shook his head. "Frank and Marian's great investments had made them an extremely wealthy couple. They knew many people and had relatives, but they chose you and Melinda as the custodians of the Wadsworth family's legacy. I know you will honor this just as you honored them." A grin spread from ear-to-ear. "And I hope that you are duly impressed with how I handled Frank and Marian's estate, and will leave your ample sums of cash in my care."

Adam looked up blankly as he considered the statement and finally smiled as he realized Bill was trying to bring a bit of humor to the proceedings. "I am impressed, Bill, and imagine we'll be spending a lot of time together as we go through all the details. If Frank trusted you, how can I not?"

Melinda's eyes were wide as she fanned herself. "I can't believe we're inheriting that beautiful house."

"I can see you're still taking all this in, my dear." Bill chuckled. "Yes, the house, contents, and the other investments and real property are yours. Of course these things will take a few months to pass through probate, but we've already filed the appropriate inquiries. You can't take actual possession yet, but there's no reason you can't begin using the grounds. To that end…," He returned to the back of his desk and pulled out another folder, and pushed a stack of papers across the desk. "This is the inventory of everything at Wadsworth Manor. Of course you know Walter, the butler at the house. That title doesn't begin to describe all he does out there. He's been managing the property for years and he's the one who did the inventory. You can trust him to run things until you take over. He'll be able to answer any questions you have about handling such a large household."

Bill waited for Adam to slide the file onto his lap. "I had to meet with Walter to arrange for the house staff to segregate the items going to relatives and organizations. He was the only one who knew the truth about who inherited. I met with him again last Friday and he told me they have removed the family's personal belongings from their rooms. And…being the wise old owl he is, he suggests you spend weekends there while you wait for the courts. Making the transition a little at a time will be a good way to adjust and figure out what you'd like to change. He's invited your entire family to spend Saturday there taking full advantage of the amenities, and the staff would like to welcome you officially at dinner that evening." He saw the blank stares coming back at him and pushed for an answer. "May I confirm that you'll be there for dinner, if not for the day?"

Adam turned toward his wife, his lips and cheek tilted in question. Melinda was the first to regain her thoughts. "The Wadsworth staff has always been most kind to us. Please thank them for continuing to take such good care of the estate, and let them know that we will look forward to spending the full day with them." She glanced at Adam again. "Walter is right about it taking time to adjust. We'll have him walk us through the house on Saturday, and make plans for future weekends"

Adam found his voice as he invited Bill to join them on Saturday, and then turned to his father. "I know I keep asking you to postpone your return to Nevada, but might you all stay until Sunday? I'd like to make our first dinner there into a small gathering to honor Marian and Frank. They both loved a good party."

Ben patted his son's arm. "I suspected you might need a few strong shoulders around yet this week, and already sent word back home. I know you're not thinking all of this through yet, but I'm pretty sure you'll be able to use us at the sites again to make sure the crews don't relax their efforts once they don't have to worry about losing their jobs."

The lawyer nodded towards Ben. "It seems like Walter isn't the only wise owl." He closed all the folders and stood behind his desk. "I think we've covered enough for today. I'll come by the office a little later in the week to bring the deeds and documents of incorporation, and make an official transfer of the building keys. Let's say Thursday, at one? If you can get your staff and family there, we'll make it into a little celebration."

*** Monday, October 28, 1872 – 11 PM***

The evening had been subdued, even though everyone had been thrilled and excited for the Boston Cartwrights and the opportunities they now faced. But the fact that their good fortune came at a great personal loss couldn't be ignored. Adam had finally declared an end to the sadness by announcing that they were going to celebrate on Saturday and pay true tribute to the Wadsworths in the best way they could—by having a wonderful time. He'd then asked Hoss and Joe to take Jillian down the block to a local pub that was presenting an evening of skits and song. The young woman and his brothers had held down the fort during the hospitalization and the rush of activity afterwards, and he thought they'd enjoy an evening out. Once the AJ and Elizabeth were tucked in, he'd set up the card table and the remainder of them, except Abel, who'd fallen asleep on the couch after dinner, played a rousing game of whist.

Adam had stopped at the office to give them a report. He was sure most of them were happy they wouldn't lose their jobs, yet he imagined a few might be resentful of his good fortune. He'd taken steps to ease those feelings by promising a substantial bonus, as a way to share Frank's faith in everyone who'd gotten the company to its current status.

The house had finally quieted as the three tired revelers had returned from their outing, and the three from the Stoddard house had headed home. Adam and Melinda had straightened the house and headed up for the night. Their eyes remained open though as they held hands in the dark as was their custom before adopting their favorite sleeping positions.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Probably not." Adam rolled his head back and forth on his pillow. "I still can't believe what happened today. I'm exhausted, but I can't shut my mind down enough to relax." A chuckle rose from his side of the bed. "I think I went to bed because everyone else did, not because I was sleepy."

"And because I made you," she teased. Melinda rolled towards him and draped her arm across his chest. "It doesn't matter if we sleep. We can talk for a while until we get drowsy, but we do need to rest."

She paused a moment, and in her silence, he recognized her un-posed question. What's bothering you?" He slipped his arm under her shoulders to scoot her tight against him.

"You looked stunned when Bill revealed the will. I thought for a minute you'd pass out. Didn't you have any inkling about being included?"

"You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said I'd gotten the business, and then I felt like I'd been hit by a 600 pound feather pillow when he said we had the house and the rest. I didn't even ask about the Pullman car, but I suppose we have that too. Walter's inventory is probably 100 pages! There's so much to learn, yet I trust Walter, and we'll work with him to figure it all out."

This time he lapsed to silence and Melinda prompted, "What are you thinking? I know that sigh. Something just came to mind."

"When Frank put me in charge, and then spent more time in England, I suspected he was giving me time to save enough to buy into a partnership. But just now I remembered that he'd said something about putting us in his will at our wedding. Do you remember? It was when they were getting ready to leave."

"I do recall, but I thought he was referencing the endowment they gave us then."

"That was my thought too. I assumed he'd taken money from the family estate to give us that gift."

"The fact that the whole family signed off on the will and the business, proves that they were absolutely serious about including you. He called you his child by choice; that was beautiful." She drifted her finger through the swirls of hair on his bare chest. "Frank and Marian loved you deeply. I understand that completely."

"They loved us all. You could see their delight at having the children around too. Following Frank's logic, they were their grandchildren by choice." He laughed quietly. "It was interesting to see AJ and Elizabeth's reaction to moving out there."

"AJ immediately worried about Abel and Sadie being not being next door, and Elizabeth could only think about seeing her pony every day. Yet they're equally concerned about their great grandparents, and equally excited about being in that house."

He reached for her hand as his body began to respond to her touch. "I like where this is going, but let's hold off a minute." He could feel her nod as she entwined her fingers in his. "How do you feel about moving? Can you feel comfortable there?"

"I'm sure I will. I've always loved that house. It has a warm character, even though I'm sure we'll decide to make some changes. The grounds are what I love most. We are so landlocked here. It hasn't been a problem so far, but the kids will appreciate the ability to roam at will." She sighed deeply. "But we can't leave Abel and Sadie behind…."

Adam grinned in the dark. "You were very quiet tonight during dinner. And you lost at cards, so I knew you were distracted. You've already got a plan to solve this, don't you?"

"Do you think we could convince Abel to move with us?"

"The same thought entered my mind. We might convince him to come along, but I think he'd grow melancholic for the sea."

"Isn't there a large sun room on the first floor?"

Adam grunted, "Unhuh."

"We could make that into a suite for Sadie and Abel. He wouldn't have to navigate the stairways, and they would have privacy and a place of their own. They could be with us whenever they wanted to, just like here.

"It sounds good, but doesn't address the loss of his friends and the waterfront."

She reached up to stroke his cheek. "Well maybe the next part of this would make it easier. The house next door is going up for sale. I'd like make an offer on it. I talked to the agent the other day and he said it's in bad shape and needs to be torn down. I think we can get the lot for a good price and petition for a change in zoning."

"Why would we want another lot or a change in zoning if we're moving?"

Her words came faster with her excitement. "We'd talked about using Frank and Marian's wedding endowment to do something useful, and I think it's time. You know I've always wanted to start a school for gifted, underprivileged children, using my teaching methods. There are great minds and talents in some of the poorest areas, Adam, but even when they do get a chance at attending school, it's always a traditional school and they can't adapt. They've grown up doing for themselves and being wary of people in charge. They have a hard time with a disciplinarian-style teacher forcing them to sit still and do endless memorization and recitation. These children don't know how to learn like that, and they usually end up labeled as having behavior problems that are really just the fruits of frustration and boredom. They need be taught in ways that are active, interesting, and challenging. If this happens, they'll become wonderful students who can one day go back to their neighborhoods and make a difference."

He hugged her. "I haven't heard you this fired up about an idea in a long time. You'd have to give up your publishing work to get it done. Are you willing to do that?

"I could become a 'silent' partner," she chuckled.

"You are never silent," he teased.

She swatted his chest. "It's more likely I'd sell to devote my time to this."

"It will already be a busy time for all of us, but maybe that's the best time to start new endeavors. We'll get it all going at once…and adapt." He chuckled as his lip curled. "What does this plan have to do with rezoning and Abel missing the sea? I think that's where we left him."

She pushed up on her elbow to look down at him. "The empty lot can be a playground. Then we'll connect Abel's house to ours to create a library and lunchroom. We'd use Abel's house for offices. It wouldn't need much work except to enlarge the kitchen. I think Sadie would enjoy planning and cooking the noon meal for the children, and Abel could come in with Sadie and me each day. He's a good negotiator and could make sure things get done right with the construction. He can even help around the school, if he wants to."

Adam pulled her down to kiss her forehead. "How long have you been planning this?"

She blushed. "Just during dinner…mostly. And the best thing is that we could leave Abel and Sadie's room untouched. He can rest there or stay the night if he wants."

"Abel did a wonderful job overseeing our house while we were in England, and he'd probably like to feel useful. I'll do some preliminary sketches for connecting the 2 houses, and we'll see if it's possible. The bigger problem, I'd think, will be finding your students."

"I'll set up a foundation that will work with charitable organizations in the city. They can identify children who would be good candidates and I'll test them." Melinda gave a sudden snort. "Boy I wish I could talk Hoss into staying here."

"Now where did that come from?" He asked as he laughed again.

"He's a natural with kids. They respond to him without fear and really open up. He was so good with Peggy when she and Laura visited the Ponderosa while we were there. He helped me test her to see how far behind she'd gotten in school because of Laura's problems with Will."

"I think Hoss would help if he could, but he'll never leave the Ponderosa." A large yawn escaped. "Getting some ideas laid out for the future is relaxing me, my love. Your plans sound perfect for you. I'll help as I can, but I have to admit that I was thinking about some of the changes I'll make on my business too." He sighed. "It really is my business. We've got open space in the office from getting our engineers out to the worksites, and I was thinking I'd talk to Charles Eliot about starting an intern program. We could take on a few students each year who want to get into the business of engineering. One of the reasons Frank spoke for Eliot's hiring was because he felt Charles would prepare employable young men, not just academics."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea! You could have them learn how to bid, present a deal, run a company and see what it's like to have their concepts become reality. And it wouldn't hurt them to spend a few weeks working at a site to learn how that happens." The room became quiet as they each considered their plans. Melinda finally broke the silence. "Can you sleep now? If not there might be something to divert our attention and make us drowsy."

"Did you want to play a game of checkers?" he teased. "I'll set up the board."

"I had something else in mind." She slid her hand down his chest and under the waistband of his pajamas. "Oh!" she chuckled as she found him already aroused. "I see you've begun without me."

*** Tuesday, October 29, 1872 – 5 AM***

Adam and Melinda were up before dawn. They'd slept soundly after making love, but they'd awakened around three and talked more about the merit and feasibility of their ideas. They agreed it would mean working long hours and turning worlds upside down, yet it would make lives better and therefore be worth the upheaval. They finally got up and dressed for the day.

"Let's reveal our news at breakfast and solicit suggestions and criticisms," Melinda suggested while pinning her hair. "Maybe your father or brothers can see major pitfalls that we're blind to because of our enthusiasm."

"I'll be interesting to see Abel and Sadie's reaction. It should be obvious immediately whether they'd be interested in assuming their role in our plans." He walked up behind his bride of eight years, slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him, leaving a trail of kisses along her neckline, ending in her most vulnerable spot behind her ear.

"If you start this we'll never get going," she teased as she turned to kiss him. While lip to lip, she whispered, "I have something to confess. Last night I made love to one of the wealthiest men in Boston?"

Adam nuzzled her ear. "I'd be careful, my dear. I hear he has a very jealous wife."

They remained in each other's arms, swaying to some unheard tune, until he took a step back. "So we're going to do the things we've talked about?"

"I think so."

"Good. We're the first one's up. I stepped into the hall a minute ago, and it's quiet except for Hoss snoring, so we can sneak down to my office and get some of our thoughts on paper." He took her hand as they moved to the door. "It's funny how we tend to fear turns in fate—even avoid them when we can. Yet I'm learning that we should embrace them as signs of a better life to come. There was a time before I left home that I feared my life was going nowhere. But each setback and seeming failure or disappointment, was telling me that I was in the wrong place, and I'd better get back where I belonged. And now a tragedy has become an impetus to move ahead again and help others. I can't think of a better outcome."

The End

Footnotes for Section 3

15* By the late 1870s, the hospital (Massachusetts General) had assumed a distinctly surgical character, with surgical admissions outnumbering medical admissions since the outbreak of the Civil War. Early trephinations—gaining access to the brain by cutting a hole in the skull—were performed by Dr. John Collins Warren, a hospital founder, first for treatment of acute trauma and later for epilepsy. (Dr. Warren was no longer a physician at the of this story, but his work had begun a revolution in the treatment of brain trauma. However, one has to imagine that without the ability to close that hole – and they were often huge – the patient's life would be dramatically different. There was also the possibility of introducing bacteria directly into the brain, causing infection and death. Dr. Joseph Lister was already beginning to preach antiseptic procedures for surgery, but his thoughts were not highly practiced until later in the century. One would think that a hospital associated with Harvard would have adopted some of these thoughts far earlier than general medicine, so I'm thinking that there would have been sterilization of instruments, even if the field of operation wasn't kept as sterile as it later became. Dr. Sidney Merchant is fictional character modeled on those who served before him.)

16* The hard hat as we know it today actually started as a hat covered with several layers of tar pitch to give it a solid exterior. I can't imagine they were comfortable, but in time they were fitted with a sling inside to provide a cushion of air between the hat and the head.