Author's Notes
Thank you all again for your kind reviews (and A Reader, Kathy and Guests) I am very grateful.
I am also glad that you are still enjoying the story. I had to split one looong chapter into two and this is the first bit. The next part will be up soon. I hope you like it.
Chapter 10
Light flakes of golden-brown stuck to his fingers, the pastry in his hand rolling slightly with every step he took. He held the turnover up to his face, admiring the perfect crescent-shape for a second and then brought it to his lips. In one bite, the pastry was gone and his eyelids fell closed when the sweet fruit filling coated his mouth. It was sticky, messy and heavenly and his teeth kept working the luscious mouthful as his stroll across the yard came to an end when he reached the open barn door.
"I tell you follas 'omethin'," he said, swallowing. "That Miss Delaney makes the dang best gooseberry turnovers I ever come across."
Adam stopped what he was doing and rested the pitchfork on the ground while Joe's head peeked up from inside one of the horses' stalls. They both observed Hoss as he happily licked his fingers, blissfully unaware of the drooping gooseberry-jam splotch on his shirt front. Joe leaned his shovel against the wall and came out of the stall, the underarms of his open shirt wet with sweat.
"We know, Hoss. It was all you talked about last night. And this morning. Now, will you stop eating all the time and come help me muck out these stalls?!"
"Easy there, little brother. There ain't no cause for you to get all ticked-off. Anyway, I spent all last week sortin' out them stalls on my own while you were breakin' horses."
"Good thing you weren't breaking horses! If you'd been thrown off, all of Nevada would have shook when you hit the ground, you big moose!"
"All right, all right you two." Adam stepped over and flung an arm across his hot-tempered brother's heaving shoulders. "Joe, you can take over with the hay, and I'll do the rest of the stalls, hmm?"
"Actually Adam, Pa wants to see ya," Hoss said, brushing a few pastry crumbs off his shirt collar. "He said that we kin take the rest of the day off when we finish up out here and he wants to talk to ya in the house."
A white smile split Joe's flushed face. "Now, that's what I like to hear! Pa must be in an awful good mood." He clapped Adam on the chest and practically bounced under his brother's arm. "Hey Adam, you wanna do some shooting practice when we're done? Perfect day for it!"
Hoss' attention shifted from the jam stain he'd just discovered over to his siblings instead. He hadn't met a person yet who could withstand Joe's boyish charm when he was in that particular mood and their restrained older brother wasn't unaffected by it either.
"Oh, okay Joe," Adam said with just a hint of reluctance. "We can go up to Eagle's Canyon and get off a few long-distance shots as soon as we finish up here."
He gave Joe's beaming face a wink and walked over to hand Hoss the pitchfork.
"I better go and see what Pa wants."
As he left the barn, Joe grinned over at Hoss, their slight spat forgotten in the younger man's jubilance.
"You're coming too, right Hoss?"
"Sure, I am. I can't wait to see Adam handle a rifle again."
"Me neither." Joe scratched his chin. "You know those rifles he brought back with him when he came home? Maybe we can get him to take them . . ."
"Hey, that's right good thinkin'! I'd sure like to see what those things can do."
Smiling, Hoss handed Joe the pitchfork and headed over to the stall. "Let's get to work, little brother."
xXXx
Adam walked into the house and took off his hat, letting the door slam shut behind him. He went over to the alcove and leaned his forearms on the backrest of the chair in front of the desk.
"You wanted to see me, Pa?"
Ben looked up from the papers on his desk and sat back in his chair, his brow creased in thought.
"Yes, son . . . I want you to take Hoss and go up to the lumber camp on the east ridge tomorrow. The timber should be ready to be floated down Snake River and I'd like you to oversee the operation. It's probably best if you camp out until Friday. I thought I would give Joseph the responsibility of delivering the next herd of cattle to the buyers in Carson City. He can do that while you are away."
"Okay, it'll be good experience for the kid. Hoss and I will leave first thing in the morning. With any luck we'll be back late sometime Saturday.
It was impossible to notice anything wrong by Adam's appearance, but after thirty-one years of being his father, Ben quickly sensed the subtle note of disappointment in his voice.
"I'd like you both to come home on Friday, regardless of whether you're finished or not," Ben said. "We've made good time with this contract, there's no need to rush it."
That statement caused obvious surprise with Adam, but he just gave a silent dip of his head as Ben studied him, tapping his chin.
"Another thing . . . I'm going into town on the weekend to visit the bank. I was going to stop by Paul's to lend him one of Hop Sing's recipe books that he asked about last Saturday. Maybe you would care to join me . . .?"
Ben struggled to keep a straight face when Adam's lips puckered to one side while the rest of his expression remained impassive.
"Sure. Why not?"
"Okay then," Ben said, deciding not to add to the teasing his eldest was almost certainly getting from the two youngest members of the family. "Now, Hoss told you that you and the boys can take the rest of the day off?"
"Yea, we're gonna go up to Eagle's Canyon and do a bit of rifle practice in a little bit."
"Mmmh, that sounds like a good idea." Ben gave his son a knowing look. "Your youngest brother can be quite persuasive, can't he?"
"Might as well give in to him now or he'll never stop pestering me about it."
"Yes well, I think that you well and truly let that cat out of its bag."
Adam disregarded his father's amused look and decided it was time to end the conversation, so he pushed away from the chair.
"Was there anything else, Sir?" he asked with deliberate pretentiousness.
"No, that'll be all, son."
Ben was unable to stop the brief chuckle that escaped him.
After delivering a head-shake of the kind reserved specially for silly fathers, Adam spun around and ambled back over to the front door.
When he came out onto the porch, his brothers' enthusiastic chatter drifted across the yard as he headed to the barn. He stopped halfway there though, when Sport snorted at him from the corral. Adam went over to the fence and stroked the animal's strong neck, breathing in the unique scent of horse and hay.
"We're doing pretty well, aren't we boy?" Sport leaned his big chin on his human's shoulder while Adam continued the soothing motion. "Just a little bit better every day."
Thursday was a busy day for Adam and Hoss, but they'd agreed on riding to the lumber camp very early in the morning and as a result, they got a lot of work done. By evening, two thirds of the felled logs had been floated down Snake River and transported to two Cartwright saw mills near the Washoe Valley. Adam had arranged for horse teams to be ready the next day and they could then begin transporting the cut timber to Virginia City. He had also sent a message to the clients from a new mining company on the Comstock, informing them that the first timber shipments would be arriving sometime Friday afternoon. Everything had gone so well that they would be meeting the contract almost six days ahead of time.
The logging crews had immediately accepted Adam as their main boss and they recognized that a big part of the reason for the operation's smooth running was due to his skills as overseer. It wasn't something he was really aware of, but he approached the work as if he were back in the military and his manner was systematic and organized when it came to the planning and execution of the tasks at hand. He was constantly thinking ahead which prevented wasted time and hold ups in between the specific jobs that needed doing. Safety precautions were a high priority for him and he set the firm rule that all equipment such as ropes, hooks and saws would be checked with regular intervals. The loggers, many of who had worked for a lot of different lumber companies, appreciated Adam's emphasis on safety since it was an aspect of their profession which many other employers paid little mind to.
It was hard physical work, but the rafts carrying the logs drifted downstream with no slip-ups or log jams.
The Cartwright brothers worked equally hard as their men and they also took many of the most dangerous jobs upon themselves. When it came to lifting and steadying logs, Hoss' brute strength was a great asset while other tasks, which required climbing the mountain slope and checking ropes or dry-chutes, sometimes relied on Adam's natural athleticism.
As they camped out that night, Adam felt every bump and bruise he'd acquired throughout the day stabbing at his sore body. His exhaustion was at the point where he couldn't hide it effectively and the men who'd all witnessed him do more than his share, insisted on him having one of the beds in the log cabin. Adam was touched by their thoughtfulness, but a couple of reasons made him politely declined the offer.
One was, that he'd spent so many nights sleeping outside during the war that he simply preferred it to being in the confined space of a cabin. The more definitive reason though, was that he simply didn't trust himself to stay quiet all through the night. His nightmares were still there, even though he didn't always remember them as clearly now, but whether he was aware of them or not, he was pretty sure that they were rarely silent.
With that in mind, he excused himself and went to put down his bedroll a little way off from the camp fire, clearly indicating his wish to be alone. A few of the men found him hard to figure while others were more perceptive and some even had relatives or acquaintances who'd fought in the war and who also found nighttime troublesome.
Hoss made up a bed by the camp fire, as close to Adam as he thought he could get away with, fully aware that his brother would not tolerate any fussing—especially in front of their employees. Although Hoss was pretty exhausted himself, a nagging sense of unease kept him from sleep and it took a long time before he dozed off.
Hours later, when the fire had turned to ash and the camp was quiet, that same feeling of unease brought him to the surface of his light slumber. He knew straight away that Adam was dreaming. He just felt it somehow. Then, when a soft mumbling came from his brother's still form, it took all of Hoss' control to stop himself from going over there. He just listened to the stuttered sentences, spoken in such low tones that they almost drowned out in the quiet symphony of the crickets surrounding the camp.
For as long as he could, Hoss held onto the hope that Adam's nightmare would be a fleeting one, but some part of him had known all along that it wouldn't. When the muttering grew more distressed and Adam began tossing and throwing off his blanket, Hoss couldn't keep still anymore. He got to his feet and hurried over to kneel down beside the restless body on the ground.
It became clear to him that his brother was in a very deep sleep since there was no reaction whatsoever when Hoss took hold of his arm to calm him. Adam's breathing was becoming very labored, like he'd just sprinted up the slope of the Eastern Sierras and collapsed in a heap. The shimmering glow from the moon spilled across his face, making him look ghostly white—at least Hoss hoped that the moon was the reason for it and that he wasn't actually that pale.
The big man held his squirming sibling still while Adam's wheezing speech pitched higher as he started calling out to people who were no longer there.
"Easy Adam, you gotta wake up now, this ain't doin ya no good," Hoss murmured, his hold tightening around the black-clad arm.
"Is he all right, Hoss?"
So caught up in his brother's misery, Hoss hadn't heard the chuck-wagon cook approach from behind him.
"Yea, Smokey, just dreamin'. He ain't proper awake yet . . . you go on back to sleep, he'll be fine."
The old cook nodded slowly, all emotions hidden in the maze of wrinkles on his face.
"They can be trying things . . . dreams . . ."
Hoss only half-heard the cook's retreating footsteps because Adam suddenly sucked in a heaving breath and his eyes sprang open. For a few seconds, he stared straight up into the dark sky above him, deaf to his big brother's words of reassurance.
". . . Hoss?"
"Yea, Adam, it's me. You were dreamin' . . ."
Adam blinked once, then his eyes closed again.
"I'm sorry . . ."
Hoss would honestly rather have been punched in the jaw than hear those quiet words. It would have hurt less.
"Now don't ya be silly. It ain't your fault." He gave his brother's arm a squeeze, then dropped his hand.
Moving to sit up, Adam rested his arms on his knees, fighting to get his breathing back under control. His head was bowed as he discreetly tried to look around Hoss' bulk.
"Everyone's asleep," Hoss said. "Just Smokey heard."
There was only truth and understanding in those milky blue eyes, but Adam didn't see it because he couldn't look at them.
"Well, you better go back to sleep too. I'm fine."
"Adam, ya don't need to—"
"It's fine, Hoss. Just . . . it's fine."
A wall had suddenly come up between them, and strong as Hoss was, he lacked the power to breach it. He hesitated, wishing that things didn't have to be this way.
"You sure you're gonna be okay? I can move over here . . . might make a difference."
"No thanks," Adam mumbled, and if he even considered the suggestion, he didn't let on. "I'll be okay."
Hoss was left with no choice and biting down on his own frustration, he gave Adam's slumped shoulder a little pat before standing up.
"Okay . . . good night then."
"Yea. Good night."
It was only when Hoss turned his back to him, that Adam looked up. He waited until his brother had returned to his own bedroll, until he was alone.
Tipping his head back, Adam inhaled deeply, trying to force the gruesome images out of his awareness. This nightmare had been worse than usual, but he wasn't sure what had triggered it. It could be his exhaustion or maybe the camping out again had provoked it. Most likely, it was a combination of the two. One thing was certain—he remembered every single detail. Vividly.
As he lay back down, he looked up at the night sky. It was an odd thought, but while he stared at the boundless darkness above, he realized exactly how he felt. It was as if he could lift his hand and pinpoint the very feeling he carried around inside.
What he saw was utter blackness. The kind that dulled the stars, the kind that threatened to swallow a person whole.
Ben was sitting on the front porch with his paperwork when Adam and Hoss rode into the yard Friday evening. His heart lifted at the sight, just as it always did when any of his sons came home after an absence, however long or short it might be. Joe had just come home a few minutes earlier from his trip to Carson City and Ben had been anxious for his two oldest boys to get back too. It was the first time since Adam's return home from the war that he hadn't spent the night at the house and Ben was relieved that he'd insisted on the boys coming home for the weekend.
Rising from his chair, Ben saw Joe come out of the barn and go to greet his brothers as they dismounted stiffly. They were talking rather quietly as Ben walked towards them, and he noticed that they didn't seem to be engaging in their customary banter. He could tell that something was a little off and when he reached them, he was met with three subdued smiles.
A closer look at Adam, told Ben that he was the reason for their solemn moods. While all three brothers looked tired and sore, Adam was the worst by far—with dark circles under his eyes and a pale tinge to his skin.
Ben was dismayed, but he covered up his immediate concern with a chirpy "welcome home", and gentle claps to his two oldest sons' backs.
It seemed like Adam was about to deliver a full report on their progress with the lumber contract, but just as he opened his mouth, Ben told him it could wait until they had rested up first. He suggested a relaxing bath, which he suspected was just what his firstborn needed, and while Joe took care of the horses, Adam began a heavy trek towards the porch. Ben and Hoss hung back and they were both mildly surprised when Adam didn't even seem to have the energy to comment on it. As soon as he'd gone inside the house, Ben turned to Hoss.
"How is he? Did something happen?"
"He's plumb tuckered out, Pa. Been workin' real hard and he didn't get barely any sleep last night. Had a pretty bad nightmare . . ."
Ben's expression turned grim and even though he knew it was a waste of his breath, he had to ask, "Did he tell you about it?"
"No. I guess he still thinks he's gotta keep them things bottled up inside. It's gettin' mighty frustratin'."
Hoss kicked at the dirt on the ground, his shoulders sagging noticeably and Ben's focus shifted from one son to another. He could only imagine the pressure Hoss must have been under with keeping an eye on his likely unwilling brother on top of working at the lumber camp.
"We know how he is, Hoss." Ben put a hand on his son's big back. "We can't do much more than what we're doing. He'll probably feel better after a bath and some rest."
"Yea . . . I sure hope so."
"You look like you could do with some rest yourself. Come on, let's go inside."
With forced cheerfulness, Ben told him about the steaks Hop Sing was cooking up for dinner, but it didn't seem to have much of an effect on Hoss' dejected demeanor. While Ben's first priority became cheering up his middle-boy, he couldn't completely push away the aching helplessness clawing at his own heart.