When Ben saw panic appear in both his boys' eyes he began to wonder if this was the only way to deal with the situation. Should he try a different approach? He had to fight against the pronouncements of his own father before he could speak to the son now before him.

"Eric, you know that you were supposed to stay in the yard?"

A very contrite little boy nodded.

"And what have you been told about the creek?"

"Not to go there alone," the child whispered.

But you did both, Eric. And you went out without your shoes. You know what could have happened?"

The boy only stared at him.

"You could have hurt yourself by stepping on a sharp stone, or thorns, or maybe even on a snake, so you couldn't walk anymore. You might have been lying down helpless and we wouldn't know where you were! Do you understand how dangerous it was?"

Hoss nodded again.

"And even if you weren't hurt you might have gotten lost walking out here all alone. What would we do without you, Hoss? We love you so much!"

Ben could see in Hoss' face how hard his mind was working.

"When you didn't come back yesterday, we searched for you, Adam and I, the whole afternoon and evening. But we didn't find you and then – we were so sad and worried. We couldn't sleep at all."

The boy's whole face was now twisted in distress.

"And your Ma cried the whole night, she was so anxious about you. And this morning all our neighbors left their work to come looking for you … "

Tears began to run down the boy's cheeks when he heard about his stepmother crying for him. "I sorry, Pa! I sorry!" the boy choked out, holding up his arms. "I didn't want make ma cry! Please, Pa, I sorry! I not want hurt her!"

Ben knew he had reached his soft hearted boy, "Hoss, promise me never to leave the yard again alone! Especially if someone's frightening you. Tell us about it instead!"

"I promise, I promise, Pa!" the boy sobbed.

Ben knelt down, and the child threw himself against his chest, crying into the fabric of his shirt. He carried the boy over to where they could sit on a stone and rubbed circles on the child's back until the tears subsided. Ben was sure the boy had learned his lesson as well as any boy could learn from bad experiences. Children were children after all; they and their parents need guardian angels, Ben thought, holding Hoss close to him, grateful they'd been spared from a cruel fate.

"Pa, the neighbors, the sign!" suddenly Adam called.

"All right, Adam, I think you can give the signal yourself. But not so close to us. I hope they will hear it from here but we can do it a few more times on our way back. Go ahead, son." Ben gave Adam his gun.

Ben watched how carefully and seriously Adam dealt with the weapon. As he had finished Ben gave his son an approving smile that brightened his oldest' face. They are so different, Ben thought, but both fine boys! And they were well educated whatever that crude horse-whipper thought!

"Reload, Adam, and secure the pistol again."

"Aw, Pa! I know, I'm eleven, not five anymore," Adam snorted.

"Don't be insolent, Adam!"

"Sorry, Pa," Adam mumbled and sat down in the grass a few yards distant.

Don't count your chickens before they are hatched, Ben thought, but had finally to smile to himself. No, they were fine boys, even if Adam was sometimes cheeky.

"Pa, who's Norman?" asked a little voice near his shoulder after a few minutes of silence. "I thinks she wants him."

"Norman is her little boy. He is in heaven, and can't come back," Ben explained.

"Is he there with my Mama Inger?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he is. Taking care of a little lost boy would be just like her. Wouldn't it, Adam?" Ben wanted to show Adam he wasn't angry with him.

Adam glanced at his father, then came slowly over and laid a hand on Hoss's shoulder. When his brother turned, Adam knelt down and looked him straight in the eyes, "She cares about little motherless boys, Hoss. She cares … "

With that Adam turned away abruptly and sat down again at a distance, his back towards his father and brother, his right hand fiercely pulling up tussocks of grass and throwing the blades back to the ground.

Hoss looked after his older brother and then quizzically up at his father. Ben only shrugged and pulled the child closer to him, kissing the top of his head gently. He wanted to ride home at once, but he couldn't just abandon the Bakers. Politeness meant he'd just have to resign himself to a wait. While stroking Hoss's back he watched Adam who now sat absolutely motionless. Sometimes Ben wondered why Adam was always so reluctant to expose his feelings. Well, the boy had gone through so many things in his life that must have left their marks on him. Ben wished his eldest would at least allow him to hold or embrace him sometimes.

"Mister Cartwright, may I introduce my wife? Gloria, this is Mr. Cartwright." Ben looked

up to see John Baker and his wife. If not for the old knitted shawl over her fashionable but rumpled dress the blonde woman would have cut a very attractive figure despite being around forty years old. Her erratic gaze darted around the camp, passing quickly over Ben's face to settle at last on his younger son.

Ben set Hoss down and rose to shake hands with the woman. "I'm glad to meet you, ma'am."

"The pleasure is mine," she responded vaguely without taking her eyes off Hoss. "John, look. I found Norman, just as I told you! He's grown bigger, but after all, he's almost eight years old now. Look what a strong boy he is!" she exclaimed. "Norman, say 'hello' to your papa," she added encouragingly to Hoss, pointing at her husband.

Hoss looked up at Ben questioningly, and then walked resolutely over to Mrs. Baker.

"Ma'am, my name ain't Norman. My name is Ho - is Eric Cartwright. This is my Pa, and this is my brother Adam, like I told you. I need to go home with my pa to my ma. She cried because I'm away," Hoss had to swallow hard when he spoke about Marie but he continued bravely. "But now I know where your Norman is. My big brother 'splained it to me. He's with my mama Inger in heaven. She takes good care of him like she took care of Adam when he was little." Hoss took a deep breath and then gave Mrs. Baker a beaming smile before he turned, obviously satisfied with his long speech. Ben nodded approvingly at his little son as he came back. Could a father be prouder than he was in that moment?

"Gloria, come on now. Maybe the boy's right. It's a nice way to think about it all," Mr. Baker said gently to his wife.

"No, John, no. He isn't dead. Our boy's alive! It's not true! He's alive!" the woman screamed.

"Gloria, you know he died back on the prairie. You both had the fever, and he died of it. Remember how we buried him by the trail? You yourself twined flowers around the cross I made…"

Gloria began to tremble. "Oh, John, I do remember. We lost our baby, we buried him in the prairie, " she whispered desperately, clinging to her husbands arm."But I would like to see his grave, I want to bring him flowers again." Her voice shifted to the whine of a sullen child. When Mr. Baker tried to pull her closer to him, she began struggling and screamed again at the top of her lungs in fury, "Why can't I visit his grave? Do you even know where it is? Our little boy is lying in the prairie all alone! And you...you do nothing!"

"Gloria, please, calm down, calm down, " Mr. Baker hadn't loosened his grip on her hand even when she pulled away. After a short trial of strength she gave up resisting and fell back into her husbands arms, sobbing, "John, if I only could sit by his grave, if I only had a place where I could be near to him, where he could hear me."

"Ma'am," a little voice became heard in that moment, "my brother taught me how I could speak with my mama Inger. He does it himself because he's very sad she's in heaven and not with us. She can hear us in heaven. Maybe you could do it the same way…"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Adam still sat motionless. But his hands were clenched over his elbows, his arms tightly circled his shins; through his mind flashed pictures he desperately tried to chase away. Pictures of graves in the prairie, wooden crosses left behind, wagon tracks across the graves, and Pa crying. He laid his forehead on his knees. Curled almost into a ball now, he tried to shield himself from hearing the woman behind him and the pictures her words called up for him. He rocked his body slightly but the noise behind him grew steadily louder. If only he wasn't digging his fingernails into his arms so hard he would put his hands over his ears….

But then he heard his little brother's voice. " He does it himself…he's very sad …" How could he be telling these secrets to a stranger?

"Hoss, don't, you… you traitor!" Adam sprung to his feet, desperate to silence his brother.

"Maybe you could use the same way …."

"Adam, don't speak to your brother in that way!" His father's reprimand was angry.

Adam suddenly felt helpless. He hadn't the strength any longer to fight against everything that wanted to overwhelm him. He couldn't, wouldn't hear any more; he wanted only to flee, to be alone... And he ran. He didn't care where he was going, he only ran, ran without looking forward. There was no point in looking forward because his eyes were filling with water. He hated it when he cried. But he was crying now and couldn't stop. As he ran he angrily wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.