CHAPTER FOUR
REBECCA CALLAHAN EYED the stubborn lavender jersey before her. She only had the finishing stitches of the right-hand cuff to go and the darn thing was looking crooked. It had taken her all of this time to get this stupid gown done and there was no way she was going to allow a crooked cuff to undo all her hard work. She frowned and glared at the fabric, as though by sheer willpower alone the young woman could straighten the hand-sewn seam.
Becky knew how to cook for upwards of twenty people. She knew the best way to get oily stains from fabric and how to distract a gaggle of giddy cowpokes fresh off the range so that they didn't start fighting and breaking up furniture. She knew how to balance the books so that the accounts for the way station were true.
She did not know how to sew.
No, actually, Becky knew how to sew—it was just that she didn't know how to sew well...nor knit nor crochet nor tat lace. None of those things were in her list of skills. Yet here she was, attempting to make up for shoving a cake in the face of Miss Parthena Applegate.
The blond sighed...and then smirked in memory of the ludicrous sight of the redheaded witch with strawberry frosting and spice cake smeared all over her spiteful little face...and front. As frustrating as it had been to sew the gown (and as just plain irritating as Parthena was), Becky wasn't at all sorry for the act that had caused her to perform the penance. And, penance though it was, she was not going to give the project anything less than her best effort. Mama had always emphasized that when you had to make amends, it always behooved you to do your utmost.
Utmost or not, Parthena was still a real pain in the neck...who looked atrocious in pink frosting and spice cake.
"You're lucky your Mama isn't here to see that evil smile on your face, Rebecca Callahan." The teasing came from a familiar voice, and the girl looked up to see its owner grinning down at her.
"And what would you know about that, Joseph Cartwright?" she asked primly. The young man shook his curly dark brown head, making the chestnut highlights catch the sun's rays.
"Don't act so high and mighty," he chided her, his emerald eyes twinkling. "I speak from experience—I smiled way too many times like that to not know mischief's behind it."
"That I can believe," Becky replied, then had to chuckle. "I'm almost done with Parthena's gown...but I was remembering the reason why I have to sew the dress in the first place." The blond's admission immediately set the youngest Cartwright brother to cackling as he, too, recalled the sight of the dreadfully bedraggled Parthena with frosting and cake crumbs all over her face and dress. Becky's "evil" smile turned into a genuine one. Joe's giggling subsided and Becky stuck the needle into the cuff to finish the last of the stitches needed on it...and hissed in pain as she oh-so-gracefully stuck her own fingertip. Her reflexes had her pull out the needle and shake the hand in pain.
"Becky!" Joe was right in front of her in an instant, taking her left hand in his and isolating the injured index finger. "Are you all right?" She couldn't help but stare up at him, her sapphire eyes wide. Why, oh why, was Joe Cartwright with her like this, now...now that they were basically step-siblings? She would have given anything to have him notice her at all before, but now she couldn't—shouldn't—be thinking about him in any kind of romantic way. It was...
Joe, however, was concerned about the injury the pretty golden blond had dealt herself, fishing from his pocket the linen handkerchief that he still remembered his own mother admonishing that every gentleman carried. As a rancher, Joe publicly used the bandanna he habitually wore for most tasks one may need a handkerchief for, but on those rare occasions that he'd had to assist a female in need of one, the youngest Cartwright son would produce the fine linen square of cloth and offer it for use. Now he pressed the handkerchief to the punctured index finger to stem the blood beading at its tip.
"There...all we gotta do is..." Joe glanced from the hand he was holding into her upturned face—and suddenly thought of how blue Becky's eyes were, "...just..." And how soft and inviting her pretty pink lips looked, "...hold it..." And what it might be like to kiss her right on that cute little black beauty mark to the right side of those lips, "...there..." It was very tempting. In fact, it was...
...a sin...
Both young people blinked and broke their self-induced trances simultaneously. Joe dropped Becky's hand and backed off as Becky's gaze dropped to the ground and she curled her injured hand to her chest. He babbled something about tending to Cochise and she murmured about how she needed to see Eve about some beads. Both of them fled in opposite directions—Joe to the barn and Becky inside the house.
"Eve? Eve?" the blond girl called, fighting to get her breathing under control. From upstairs there was a light thud of footfalls as the brunette bride of Adam came down the stairs with a basket of clothing in her hands. The older female glanced curiously at her step-sister-in-law.
"Yes?" Eve responded.
"I...I'm done with last bit of sewing." Rebecca explained. "If...if you could sew on that beadwork, I'd...I'd appreciate it."
"All right, this way." Eve led the obviously flustered blond from the room, wondering why Becky looked so agitated...and (not for the first time) wondering if Joe had anything to do with it. Ah, well.
In the barn, a very spooked-looking Joe practically burst into the building and hastily began tending to Cochise. Adam, who was working on tack maintenance, looked up and noted the rather pale and shaken look on his youngest brother's face.
"Why do you look like you're being chased by Sam Hill himself?" the sable-maned man asked curiously. Joe—who grimaced because he'd actually met "Sam Hill"—snorted and applied himself to removing the saddle and bridle from his pinto.
"Not funny, Adam," mumbled Joe. Adam arched an eyebrow, noting that Joe was not only being extremely painstaking in his actions, he was also now not being very talkative, either.
So Adam shrugged it off—must've been a guy thing. Joe would either talk about it later or work it out.
HOSS WAS PAYING a call on the pretty schoolteacher in Virginia City, Mercy Harris. Today they were driving near the town and talking, the subjects ranging from the best way to treat a colicky colt to the different ways to be able to observe the ducks in a pond. While Mercy always insisted that she was no expert in animals, she was certainly interested in hearing about them from Hoss and often had some surprisingly astute opinions about wildlife and animals in general.
And she still had that cute way of pursing her mouth when she had to stop and think about something. Hoss knew that such a habit was going to be his ruination one day...but he couldn't help but try to get Mercy to "explain" things to him, just to see her do that darling movement with her lips.
At the moment, Hoss was pointing out a nest of birds that had taken up residence in the gap between the top of the wall and the somewhat warped roof of an abandoned shack just outside town. Mercy smiled at the sight.
"Who'd've thought that you could find so much life in such a derelict place..?" the young lady asked.
"Derelict?" Hoss prompted, sounding puzzled.
"Derelict..." Mercy immediately pursed her lips in concentration, "...desolate...dilapidated...forsaken...well...such a pokey old shabby shack!" The schoolmarm peered at him suddenly.
"Hoss...you've got that look on your face again," she said, that cute moue disappearing as she eyed him. The big man tried to be nonchalant.
"That look..?" he asked innocently. For a moment Hoss feared that he hadn't been able to feign his ignorance, but Mercy drew in her breath to say something and then shook her head.
"Never mind," she dismissed her notion. The man with her heaved a silent sigh of relief...he hadn't been caught yet...thank goodness!
"Have you heard anything from your father and his wife?" Mercy changed the subject. Hoss found himself grinning.
"Oh, sure!" he replied enthusiastically. "Pa sent a telegram congratulating Adam about marrying up with Eve...and he let us know that Zach joined the orchestra just like he was hoping!"
"How wonderful for your family, Hoss!"
"We all are mighty proud of Zach, that's for sure." Hoss agreed. "Pa let us know that he and Mama are gonna stay East till the end of September, then they'll be coming home." The dark-haired lady glanced at him, a mix of surprise and respect in her expression.
"What's that look for?" Hoss asked.
"I'm...very surprised to hear you refer to your father's new wife as 'Mama' already," Mercy admitted, adding hastily: "Oh, pleasantly so, I assure you! But...surprised, nonetheless—after all, she only got married to him a few weeks ago, didn't she?"
"Well, that's true enough." Hoss conceded. "You might say I learned it from my newest brother and sisters."
"Really?"
"Yup," he said, nodding. "You see, Becky, Gabe and Naomi...they all had their Ma and Pa...but they died in a fire, so then their Aunt Cassie came along and helped them learn to love again. When their Aunt Cassie did that, they all decided that she was more'n just their aunt...and they all told her she was their Mama. That's how they all look at her now." He shifted on his seat before continuing. "Now, I had my Ma who brought me into the world, but she died before I knew her...and then I had my Pa's wife Marie...she loved me and I learned to love her back—so she became my Ma. And now there's Miss Cassie, who's always been a real good friend to my brothers and me even before she married Pa. I don't think of her the same as a 'Ma'...but she's surely more'n just 'Miss Cassie' to me now, even if all I look at is just how doggone happy she's made my Pa already. So...well...guess I just can't help but think of her as 'Mama' now, too. It just fits."
"So you lost your mother when you were a baby..?" Mercy mused softly. Hoss gave a short sigh.
"My own Ma's name was Inger," he explained. "I was only a few months old when she died. Adam knew her. I was old enough to remember Ma...Marie, who is Joe's Ma. She was pretty and mighty proud about keeping the house clean for Pa." The middle Cartwright brother grew pensive. "There was one time that I remember, though, that she beat me an' Joe in the best mud fight ever." Mercy couldn't help but laugh at that.
"She sounds like she was the best Ma in the world!" the young woman said with a smile.
"She was," Hoss confirmed, then looked intently at Mercy. "What's your Ma like?"
It was as though he had picked up a bucket of meltwater from the high Sierras snowpack and had hurled it right into Mercy's face, for the pretty teacher's laughter died and her face paled. Hoss thought for a moment that she was about to faint.
"Mercy?" he asked, anxious that he had somehow caused her distress. Her emerald eyes dropped but he reached out a hand to her and placed a bent finger under her chin, tenderly tilting her face up to his.
"Mercy...if I caused you any pain, Mercy, I'm sorry..." he apologized softly. Her eyes met his and his heart twisted for the wistful look deep within the verdant orbs.
"You...you don't have anything to apologize for, Hoss." she told him. "It's just that...I lost my mother six years ago...and I...I still miss her terribly."
Quite naturally Hoss immediately engulfed the clearly emotional young lady in his embrace, one of his hands tenderly petting the glossy raven head pressed against his thumping heart. The quiet interlude in which his earnestly offered comfort was gratefully accepted lasted for a long time, yet both Mercy and Hoss felt that they needed to pull apart far too soon. However, pull apart they did, as the sun was considerably lower in the sky than it had been at the start of their drive out together.
"I'm sorry I got so...emotional, Hoss," Mercy apologized as he walked her to the door of her little house. "I didn't mean to make you despondent." Hoss immediately saw a way to salvage the unhappy mood that had taken over.
"Des-pon-dent?" he repeated, schooling his features to remain mildly inquiring as opposed to flagrantly triumphant when the schoolmarm puckered in concentration.
"Despondent...disconsolate, doleful, lugubrious, melancho—" Her list of synonyms was cut off suddenly because Hoss bent down and took advantage of her own distraction and kissed her in mid-sentence. When he straightened up again, Mercy's piquant face was a bit flushed. She glanced up and down the relatively deserted street before smiling back up at him.
"We're very lucky that Mr. Foster—or one of his cronies—isn't around," she told him in what was probably supposed to be a reprimand, but it was a little too breathless to prompt anything besides a shy grin from the big, tall man with her. "He's been expressing some reservations about the way I teach my classes."
"But he's not around," Hoss reminded her. "And I'm not a-tall sorry I kissed you."
"Neither am I."
This confession had Hoss walking on air for the rest of the week.
ONE WEEK AFTER he'd left his wedding band with Mr. Hagermann, Adam was back at the master craftsman's shop to pick up the ring. The jovial jeweler nodded to the rancher.
"Ja, ja...I go get! Wait here!" Mr. Hagermann bade Adam, hurrying away to the back of the shop. The tall man glanced around the tastefully-decorated place, his lips twitching in a near-smile when he saw some of the more ostentatious pieces as he leaned almost negligently against the counter. Mr. Hagermann came bustling back towards him, so Adam moved to stand up straight again. As he did so, a piece of jewelry inside the glass-topped showcase caught his eye. Adam tried on the resized ring—it fit perfectly now—but then nodded down at the jewelry that got his attention.
"Mr. Hagermann...may I see that pin?" he asked. The older man squinted down at the piece Adam was indicating and then hastily took it from its berth.
"Ahhh...see?" the craftsman said with a smile as he presented the jewelry to the younger man. "You know quality when it shows, jah! Is good brooch...fine diamonds...fine sapphires...good work, jah!"
"Did you make this?"
"Ach, nein..." Mr. Hagermann denied, "...This one...the work is from one hundred...maybe one-hundred-and-a-quarter of the years past. Good work...French, I think." Adam considered the pin...or the brooch, as the jeweler put it: it had a distinctive design without being showy...just the right type of jewelry he felt that Eve wouldn't mind wearing.
"I'll take it." the sable-maned man declared. Mr. Hagermann beamed at him, then waved a finger.
"Warten sie!" the German jeweler bade, then peered around at the surrounding areas of the showcase. "Warten sie...warten sie...now where was...ah! Jah! Is here!" Mr. Hagermann found what he was apparently looking for a few feet away and hastily removed another piece of jewelry from the showcase, handing it to Adam. The eldest Cartwright brother inspected the new item: a sapphire-and-diamond bracelet, made to match the brooch. Again, Adam was pretty sure that Eve would like the style.
"It's very pretty," Adam admitted. "If you didn't make these, though, Mr. Hagermann, where did you get them?"
"Pay for them, jah," the older man said conversationally, "Rough man come with them and I say 'is not stolen, nein?' Everyone knows I not buy stolen goods. He go get lady...lovely lady...she have rest of set...other bracelet...ear bobs...necklace. Lady vouch for sale. I pay then." Adam contemplated the brooch and the bracelet as the jeweler told his tale.
Logic dictated that, as pretty as the pieces were, Eve was likely to object to getting them on the grounds that they were far too expensive as well as she couldn't conceive of where she could wear them. Adam, however, recalled that one of her formal gowns was a similar color blue...and that red satin gown would provide a vibrant contrast to the sapphires as well. This brooch and bracelet weren't everyday pieces for their lifestyle, to be sure, but Adam knew there would be a few times in the upcoming months his wife would have the occasion to wear them.
"All right, Mr. Hagermann...I'll take both." Adam said, then got down to the business of finding out the price and arranging to make the payment for the jewelry. He left the shop with the gifts for Eve in his pocket, hurrying to go join her at International House for lunch. He arrived first and was at a table when she finally joined him. Adam immediately saw that she was looking rather pensive as he held her chair for her to sit down.
"Trouble with the mushrooms..?" he asked, seating himself. Eve had decided that she would be continuing to supply the town's restaurants and hotels with her harvests from the MacGruder family's mushroom crop with the aid of her youngest brother Jimmy. Eve oversaw maintaining the contacts with the various customers and keeping an eye on the growing conditions of the mushrooms while Jimmy harvested and then delivered them. This worked out fine for her as she got to spend more time with her mother as well as the other members of the Callahan-Cartwright family, too.
"No," the brunette shook her head. "It's that...well...I saw Dr. Martin today..." Eve trailed off, obviously wrestling with some sort of news. Adam was suddenly struck by an idea of what that news was, freezing with the enormity such a possibility...
...Eve couldn't be trying to find a way to tell him she was carrying his child...could she...?
At that moment, his wife's cocoa-colored eyes looked up into his face and her words quashed the early stirrings that had begun within him.
"Oh! No, Adam!" Eve said hastily, blushing a bit. "Sorry...I didn't go see Dr. Martin...I ran into him while I was out and about." Her mouth twitched and her expression seemed to Adam to be a mix of gentle humor and wistfulness. "It's just a little too early for anything like a baby. Sorry." Her husband chided himself for jumping to such a conclusion this early into their marriage then went on to prompt Eve to continue what she'd intended to relate.
"Ah, yes...well...I ran into the doctor, and he told me the terrible news about Gertrude Trent," Eve told him. Adam's eyebrows knit.
"Gertrude Trent?" he echoed, the name sounding a bit familiar but Adam couldn't place it. Eve sighed.
"Gertrude Trent was Simon Trent's mother," she reminded him. Memory clicked and Adam stiffened: Simon Trent had been one of a group of bounty hunters who had held the Callahan family hostage two months earlier in order to surprise a wanted fugitive that was due to arrive on an incoming stagecoach. Eve had gotten shot escaping the scene and had ridden to the Ponderosa for help. All four of the Cartwright men had immediately gone to the aid of Cassandra Callahan and her brood, but in the ensuing confrontation, Hoss had killed one of the bounty hunters and Ben had shot another—Simon Trent. Ben had felt terrible because his bullet ended up paralyzing the young man and Hoss had forfeited the reward money to the Trents to help care for Simon.
Now that Adam finally placed the name, he pounced on something else his wife just said:
"Was..?"
"Gertrude Trent died," Eve told him soberly. "Dr. Martin said that she had been to see him and few other doctors. They all told her that Simon would never walk again. She...apparently couldn't live with the awful news." Adam's hazel eyes glanced at her sharply.
"You mean...she took her own life?" he asked the unthinkable. Eve swallowed and nodded silently, her hand reaching out and gripping the fist Adam had been unaware he'd made on the table.
"I'm sorry, Adam," she said in a soft but sincere voice. The eldest Cartwright son thought about how his father would take this bit of news, then decided that he wouldn't tell Pa...not until he could do so in person. The patriarch had had a hard enough time struggling with the self-inflicted guilt of holding himself responsible for Simon Trent's paralysis...adding the onus of Gertrude's suicide to it was a burden that was best shared when Ben was back at the Ponderosa, where everyone else in the family would be there to help the man bear up under that emotional load.
Even as he thought this, Adam became aware of the warmth of his wife's hand empathetically squeezing his own. The man in black flashed a brief almost-smile at her, lifting her fingers to his lips.
"Thank you," he acknowledged. "I think we'd best wait until after Pa is back before telling him about that." Eve sighed and nodded.
"That sounds for the best," she agreed. Any further conversation was forestalled by the arrival of the person who came to take their order for lunch. Adam decided not to give Eve the jewelry he'd gotten for her, seeing how it wouldn't be the best time to do so after hearing such devastating news. After the lunch order was given and the waiter was gone, Eve told her husband about the latest developments with her mushroom business, then broached a subject she'd also been thinking about lately.
"Adam," the brunette said firmly, "We need to talk about moving to a house of our own." Adam looked at her but remained silent.
"The house at the Ponderosa is big, but the family now consists of your father, three brothers and two sisters...then there's you, me and my mother," Eve pointed out. "Just now you were...anticipating my telling you that I was with child. If that should happen anytime soon, we would have to stick him in a cupboard, as there wouldn't be any room left!"
"Or her..." Adam replied, his face its usual neutral mask, but his hazel eyes aglow with humor.
"What?"
"You referred to our future child as 'him'," Adam clarified, "When our future child might possibly be a 'her'. We have no way of knowing which one it may be." Eve tilted an eyebrow at him but then chuckled.
"It would serve you right if our future child was a 'they', then you'd be running around after twins!" she rejoined, prompting a chuckle from her husband.
"All right, you win the battle of wits!" he conceded. "But I'm glad you brought the point up. A few days ago, I rode out to a site that I had in mind...to see if the house I'd started was still at all sound..."
"This wouldn't be the romantic little cottage you were building for Laura Dayton, would it?" Eve asked drolly. Adam gave her a startled frown. "Don't glare at me, Adam Cartwright—Laura was bending the ear of anyone with the time to listen—first about how horribly you were neglecting her and then about how terrible she felt that you had been building a house to surprise her with all that time." His wife was looking far too amused at his expense, but Adam went on with his original statement:
"I went to see if the framework was still sound...but I found that it wasn't," he said. "However, I've always liked that particular site for a home...I'd like to build the house for us there if you're agreeable."
"In this case, I trust your judgment, but I'd love to see the location."
"It's on the northern shore of the lake...we can drive there after lunch—if you're all done with your business in town."
"Adam Cartwright!" Eve said with a bright smile. "You remembered to ask! Oh, I could kiss you!" Her husband glanced at her, but went on to describe the type of house he had in mind, outlining some ideas he had for an improved bathing room as well as installing a washout closet that he'd once read about. Apparently an Englishman named J.G. Jennings had created the item, which was being hailed as the forefront of "sanitary science."
"Hmm...an indoor outhouse that washes itself..." mused Eve.
"Well, actually..." Adam temporized, "...the basin flushes out the...uh..."
"You don't have to explain that part, thank you," she assured him. "But...I think it's a great idea if it works...I hate having to deal with chamber pots during the freezing or really wet weather." The couple finished their meal and drove to the site that Adam had begun building that other house—it now seemed like ages ago to him.
"This is a great location!" Eve confirmed as she stood looking out at the views that would be seen from the house. "We're on the right side of the mountains so that we shouldn't have as much wind blowing on us nor snow building up in the winter months, and we're close enough to the lake to not be as hot in the summertime..." She turned a beaming smile in his direction. "Adam—you're a genius!" He didn't bother masking his own grin as he pulled Eve into his arms and held her tight.
"Genius has its rewards," Adam murmured, bending his head to kiss his wife. "And I seem to recall you offering to kiss me while we were at lunch..." She responded enthusiastically but gasped because besides kissing her, the man was starting to unbutton her gown.
"Adam!" Eve protested, her brown eyes widening. "We're outside...out in the open!"
"We're alone...in the middle of the Ponderosa," he countered. Her dress was falling open.
"This isn't up for debate!" Eve expostulated, shivering in the warm sunshine.
"I'm not debating," her husband stated the obvious, his mouth wandering away from hers but his hands continued to peel away clothing.
"It...it's daytime..!" the brunette's objection had lost considerable heat as Adam was now nibbling the side of her neck. Her hands were clinging to his shoulders rather than trying to push him away.
"All the better to see you with, my dear."
"Adam!"
Mr. and Mrs. Adam Cartwright continued their philosophical debate to their mutual satisfaction, each of them convinced (after it was over) that they had emerged victorious.
And, actually...they were both right.
Wednesday, October 1, 1862 – Union Street Station, New Haven, CT
Ben Cartwright hurried back to the platform where his wife and her son were waiting for him. Ben had just sent off the telegram informing the family back in Nevada that he and Cassandra were about to start their three-week trip home. The ivory-maned rancher wasn't afraid that he and his bride might miss the train bound for New York City—no, his haste was due to the fact that Zach Callahan was patiently suffering his mother's last minute admonitions to be courteous, keep warm, work hard and...
"Don't forget to wear your muffler and gloves once the snow starts falling!" Cassie bade the young man as she hovered near him. "Especially your gloves...you're a professional violinist now, Zach, and your hands are your life."
"Yes, Mama," the violinist in question replied with a long-suffering tone. Ben's smile was fleeting, for he was now in the vicinity of the pair and Cassie turned around to appeal to him to make her son see reason...just as Zach was silently begging him to make his mother stop treating him like a child. The older man put his arm around his wife's shoulders.
"Now, Cassandra," Ben said in a jovial tone, "Aren't all those things what you've told Zach before? In fact, I daresay, those are all things that you've taught him before, right?"
"Yes, Ben," she agreed in a tone that was mildly reproachful but nonetheless acquiescent.
"And you, Zach," her husband turned towards the young blond man, "You don't plan on deliberately disobeying or ignoring what is, after all, sterling common sense, now, do you?"
"No, sir!" Zach declared firmly, then himself faced Cassie, his hands clasping hers. "Honest, Mama...I'll take care of myself...I'll save up my money...and I'll come see you again as soon as I can. Until then...I'll be just fine, Mama...really I will."
"I...I know," the silvered blond lady admitted, looking earnestly up at the man who had once been a lost boy. "I...I just don't want to say goodbye. I...don't want to lose you."
"You'll never lose me, Mama," Zach told her. "You came into my life...into our lives...when we all needed you...you taught us everything that Ma and Pa would have if they'd remained. I'll always have you inside me, Mama...that will never change." Cassie swallowed, her silver-gray eyes swimming with tears, then she threw her arms around her son's neck.
"God bless you and keep you, Zacharias Callahan," she intoned, kissing his cheek. "And you let us know when you have the time available to visit us...I'll sell off bits and pieces of the station if I have to in order to make sure you have the fare to get back to Nevada!" Her nephew-cum-son returned her fierce hug and tender buss.
"I'll keep that in mind, Mama," he assured her, then turned to Ben, putting out a hand that the older man took and shook firmly, accompanying it with a slap on Zach's back.
"You take care of my Mama, sir," Zach told him with voice that bespoke the blond's trust that Ben would do so...along with an underlying hint of steel that promised retribution should the rancher fail in that duty. Ben, however, nodded in understanding, for he had expected no less from the young man who loved his Mama.
"I surely will, son," he responded.
"Nine-fifteen to New York City...all aboard the Nine-fifteen to New York City!" bellowed the conductor from the train that was, even now, parked on the rails a few yards away.
"God bless you and keep you, Mama," Zach returned her sentiment, smiling, "You and Uncle Ben both. I'll see you again soon—knock wood!" Cassie stiffened and then hugged Zach once more before turning away and almost running to the train. Ben had time to tell Zach "Write often! Take care!" before hurrying after his wife, more than a little surprised at her behavior.
Ben caught up with her in one of the cars, where she sat by a window and was clearly struggling not to burst into tears. It was a losing battle, from the looks of it.
"Treasure..!" his comforting bass rumbled as he sat down beside her and took the weepy female in his arms. "There, now, don't cry! We'll see Zach again soon...and you won't even have to sell parts of the way station—I'll be happy to give him the fare home." Cassandra's face buried itself into one of Ben's solid shoulders.
"Y-you don't...you don't understand," she said, her voice muffled because she hadn't lifted her head. Her husband tenderly but firmly took her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting her tear-streaked face up to his.
"What don't I understand, Treasure?" he prompted.
"This is the same exact thing that happened to me almost twenty years ago." Cassie told Ben. "I stood in this station, crying because my brother was going off to embark on his exciting new life with his wife and baby boy and I was going home...only now...well, I'm still going home, but it's that baby boy—all grown up—who's going off to embark on his exciting new life."
"And you're going to miss him, I know—" Ben began to reassure her, but his wife shook her head, anxiety washing over her expression.
"No, not that," she denied. "It's what Zach just said now...it's exactly the same thing Jason said to me before he left: 'I'll see you again real soon, Cass...knock wood'...only...only I never saw Jason again, Ben—he died before I could." The tears spilled over afresh as the distraught lady once again buried her face into her husband's shoulder. Ben's grimace went unseen by her but he felt that he had to try to comfort her somehow. His large hands came up, one of them cradling her head to his rapidly-becoming-drenched shoulder and the other rubbing comforting circles on her back as she shook from her muffled sobbing.
"I honestly wish I could tell you that your fears are completely unfounded, Cassandra," he murmured, "But...we both know I'd be lying. We both know that bad things happen sometimes...but...I also have to point out that, as far as Zach is concerned, he is the captain of his own fate, and he fully intends to stay afloat no matter what." His bride was still for a moment, then her shoulders shook even harder.
Oh, dear. That hadn't gone well. Ben pulled back a bit to try a different tack with his wife, but she, too, pulled back—and the rancher stared at her because she was bestowing a watery smile upon him. He gave a sigh of relief as he belatedly recognized that Cassie's shoulders hadn't been shaking due to increased distress—she'd been shaking with laughter.
"Oh, Ben—trust an ex-mariner to come up with a sea-going metaphor!" she said, then fumbled for her handkerchief and dabbed at her face with it. "However...you're right. Zach's an adult and I cannot keep him packed in cotton wadding. I'll just have to trust that he will live his life to the fullest...just like his father before him." Ben smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead...then caught sight of a movement on the platform as the train whistle blew.
"Cassandra—look...Zach's still there. He's waving goodbye."
The lady with the silver-and-gold hair turned in her seat turned to look out the window just as the train yanked itself into motion, its herky-jerky gait making it hard to focus for a moment...but then her eyes fixed on the tall blond man who was only four years younger than the other Callahan male Cassandra had parted from almost two decades earlier.
Zacharias Taylor Callahan waved the hat that he'd swept from his head and grinned like he had his entire life ahead of him. His Mama conceded that, yes, indeed—Zach did have his life ahead of him...just as Cassandra had hers ahead of her. And so it was that Zach's last sight of his cherished Mama before the billowing clouds of steam from the locomotive obscured everything was her smiling face that was dominated by large silver-gray eyes glowing with love.
Inside the train, Cassie turned back to the man with whom she was making her own new life, her palm lovingly cupping his cheek.
"I love you, Ben Cartwright," she told him sincerely. The man's dark brown eyes flared with passion before settling into a glow that warmed her through and through.
"I love you, Cassandra, my Treasure," he told her with all his heart in the words. Heedless of the people around them, Ben bent his head and kissed his wife until the conductor had to tap him on the shoulder. Then both Cartwrights settled down in their seats and behaved with complete propriety for the rest of the trip...holding each others' hand.