TEN

oooooooooooooooooo

A little moan escape Bella's lips as she opened her eyes. Slipping her fingers between her waist and the leather chair, she arched her back to ease the pain. Then she blinked and looked around, a little confused. As the day progressed into night, Kate had taken the children up to bed and then retired herself. BJ had asked for Eric to sleep with him and she'd quickly agreed. She was still uncomfortable leaving her son alone for any amount of time, and she'd been bound and determined that she would remain in this chair until his father came home. The blonde woman's eyes shifted from the blanket covering her – put there no doubt by Hop Sing sometime during the night – to the tall case clock by the door. It was nearly 5 a.m.

And still, no Joe.

With a frown, Bella tossed the blanket aside and started the process that it currently took her to rise, but halted at the sound of someone descending the stairs. Turning to look, she was surprised. At first she thought it was a complete stranger, but then she realized they'd met before. Briefly. Only now, instead of wearing an old prospector's shirt, battered hat, and men's trousers, Rosey O'Rourke was clothed in a deep-green fashionably cut dress that accented both her boyish figure and her upswept dark brown hair and eyes. There were a few streaks of silver among the sable waves, suggesting she was in her fifties, and yet she moved with the energy and vitality of a much younger woman. As she arrived at the bottom of the steps, Rosey gave her skirts a twirl, putting her in mind of a society belle at a ball.

She couldn't help but laugh.

The older woman grinned as well. "A bit of a change, isn't it?"

Bella nodded, and then her gaze went to the landing above. "Is your...companion coming down?"

"Madame Ah Kum?" Rosey glanced over her shoulder. A wry smile curled the corner of her lips as she turned back. "The 'empress' is sleeping. I'm afraid she's not accustomed to traveling by horse and wagon over the mountains at a breakneck pace."

The blonde woman frowned. "Why is she here?"

"Why is she, or why am I?" Rosey asked as she moved closer.

"Both, I guess."

The older woman took a seat on the settee. For a moment, she studied her. "You're Joseph's wife, aren't you? Elizabeth..."

"Bella. Bella Carnaby Cartwright. Yes."

"And the woman I met upstairs, that's Adam's wife?"

"Her name is Kate."

Rosey nodded. "She told me." The older woman paused, then she added with a smile, "You have a beautiful son. He looks like his father."

She knew from what she had picked up over the years that Rosey had known Joe as a boy and been instrumental in saving his life. Part of the reason had been her own son, Rory, whom she believed had been murdered, but later found out was alive. They were reunited thanks to the Cartwrights. From what Joe had said Rosey and his father had fallen in love, but set aside their own feelings and desires for the sake of their children's happiness.

"Thank you. Eric definitely favors his father," she said and added with a little sigh, "in just about everything."

Rosey shook her head. "Little Joe Cartwright. It seems a lifetime ago we first met. He was just a child." The older woman made a face. "It was a lifetime ago. Nearly twenty years!"

"Joe will be happy to see you," Bella said. "So will Ben."

The older woman's eyes went to the stairs again. She scowled as if thinking of something unpleasant and then said softly, "I hope so."

"Rosey, is there something you – "

The sound of horses – multiple horses – racing into the yard stopped her short. Men were shouting. Others were answering. She could hear Ben's deep voice booming out instructions.

She didn't hear Joe.

Bella finished her awkward ascent from the chair and took a step toward the door and then stopped, unexpectedly dizzy. As she clutched the edge of the table, Rosey looked her up and down.

"Are you all right?" the older woman asked.

She swallowed over her fear. "I think I better stay here. You'll have to unbolt the door."

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Rosey eyed the expectant mother with concern as she moved to do what she'd been told. Bella Carnaby Cartwright looked ready to bust. Her time must be close. She also looked scared out of her wits. The older woman's lips twisted a bit as she reached for the latch. Being married to a Cartwright would be a challenge – any Cartwright – but being Little Joe Cartwright's wife would be an act of faith. The boy, when she met him, had been like a moth to flame when it came to trouble.

It seemed now that he was a man nothing had changed.

A curt cry from outside and a fist hammering on the door drew her attention back to it. After casting a last glance at Bella, who had gone pale as a winding sheet, she said a small prayer and opened the door to find a tall man with piercing hazel eyes and salt and pepper hair staring at her just as openly as she was staring at him.

"Who?" he said, frowning. Then he shook his head as if it didn't matter. A second later he turned back into the dawning light and called out, "Pa! Wait. Let me help."

Pa.

She hadn't recognized him. Just like he didn't recognize her. She did now.

It was Adam.

Ben's eldest was home.

A moment later Rosey stepped aside as the two tall men moved into the house, bearing a smaller man between them. She could hardly believe that head of silver curls, but she knew Joseph Francis Cartwright the instant she laid eyes on him.

And knew as well that he was in danger.

Bella's intact of breath was audible.

At first it had seemed Ben didn't see her – or know her – so intent was he on his youngest and his needs, but then those dark eyes fastened on hers. In them Rosey read relief and the longing of nearly twenty years – a longing she knew all too well. But there was something else.

Fear.

Her gaze went from Ben to Joseph and traveled the length of the youngest Cartwright's taut muscular frame. Joe's clothes were singed and covered with ash and soot, as were his spiraling curls. He was pale and breathing hard; his cheeks bright with fever. But worse than that, his silvery hair was matted with day old blood while a fresh supply – brilliant and red – soaked his shirt front.

"Rosey," Ben began. "Please get Hop Sing. Tell him we need bandages and water. One of the men has gone for the doctor, but we'll need to clean Joe's wounds before he gets here."

She nodded and turned toward the kitchen.

A strong hand caught her arm, holding her back. Surprisingly, a moment later that hand touched her face. She met Ben Cartwright's gaze and then reached up to take his hand in hers.

"Good to see you," he said with a hint of a smile.

"Good to be here," she replied softly.

"Pa..."

Rosey looked up at the tall man. Yes, it was Adam. Older. More intense, if that was possible. But definitely Adam. He was struggling to hold onto his brother who had roused and was trying to push his hands away.

"I can...make it...up my own...damn stairs," Joe snarled as he broke free. "I...don't...need your...help!"

The older woman stifled a laugh. Ben had actually rolled his eyes!

"Joseph, you will do as you are told!" the rancher ordered.

Bella had moved in beside Joe. He'd just given his overwrought wife an encouraging smile when his father spoke. True to form, Ben's youngest's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he whipped around to meet the older man's disapproving stare.

"Since when?" Joe snapped.

Right before he hit the floor.

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Ben gripped the newel post to steady himself. Rosey had just shot past him, her arms laden with bandages and towels. Hop Sing followed quickly in her wake, bearing several pitchers of water. Neither had given him more than a cursory glance as they raced for the sick room above where Bella sat with her ailing husband. He was worried about his daughter-in-law. The heavily pregnant woman had needed support to make it up the stairs. From experience he knew shock and worry could hasten a woman's time, and the last thing they needed right now for his daughter-in-law to go into labor.

Things were mad enough as it was.

A shout and a whistle drew the older man's attention from the stairs to the open front door. Candy had just stepped outside and he could hear the brown-haired man shouting orders. They were meager on hands due to the drive. Still, the few they had with them were trustworthy and Candy had volunteered to handle putting them to work. A few would tend to the stock and so on, but most were to be sent – along with Jin Lei's men – to take up strategic positions around the house. Lei had gone to Virginia City to check on his son and father and hopefully bring them back. Jude Randolph went with him, refusing to let him travel alone. Ben ran a shaky hand over his eyes and wavered slightly on his feet. If the truth be known, he was exhausted. It didn't matter. Without a doubt some kind of attack on the Ponderosa was imminent and they had to be prepared. Adam had made that quite clear.

The rancher's gaze went to his eldest son who was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace like a man possessed.

What Adam hadn't made clear was why.

His eldest must have sensed he was watching him. Adam halted where he was, opened his mouth to speak, and then dropped into the chair that for more years than he could remember had been his eldest son's favorite.

"Pa, I'm so sorry. I...failed to prevent this." Adam's gaze went to the staircase and then came back to him. He chuckled sadly. "No. I should amend that. I just failed."

"At what, son?" He moved closer to the boy – the man – he hadn't seen in almost five years. One he had feared dead. "What is it that you have failed at?"

Adam snorted as he leaned back in the chair, resting his head on the worn blue velvet. "It's a long story, Pa. In the beginning it was all about preserving a country's history. Then, it became about the greater good. Now..." Adam sighed as he shifted and looked at him. "Now, it's about keeping Joe alive."

"You're talking about the threat Khu Zhuang's grandson poses. Jian explained that Qian erroneously believes Joseph killed his grandfather."

Adam nodded. "Because someone told him Joe was responsible. I don't know who."

"I do," a voice spoke from the stairs. The sound sent a small thrill through the older man.

It was Rosey.

Both of them turned toward the stairs and were surprised to find Rosey assisting a frail Chinese woman down to the first floor. It was clear she had once been a beauty, but life had not been kind. The older woman's face was heavily painted; her narrow eyes smudged with kohl to make them appear larger and her lips stained too bright a red. Though her hair was black, it was evident that it was not her natural color as streaks of a dull white showed through here and there. The woman moved carefully, her dark eyes darting constantly from one side of the room to the other as if she expected an attack. A nervous tick lifted the corner of her upper lip into something resembling a sick smile. Ben's eyes went to the elegantly embroidered silk sleeve Rosey gripped, noting the strength the brown-haired woman put into it – as if she feared the Chinese woman might collapse.

Or bolt.

"Rosey?" he inquired.

She assisted the Chinese woman to the settee and settled her against a pillow in one corner before replying. "This is Madame Ah Kum, Ben. I think she can answer some, if not all of your questions." The handsome woman's gaze went to Adam. "Both your questions."

Adam sat up and leaned forward.

As courtesy demanded, the rancher inclined his head. "Madame Ah Kum."

The Chinese woman seemed a bit stunned. It took her a moment to return his greeting. "Mister Cartwright," she said at last, her voice thin and reedy, "it is with both regret and anticipation that I greet you."

His eldest had grown pale. "Madame Ah Kum? From the Delectable Dragon?"

Ben frowned as he looked from one to the other. "You two know each other?"

Adam shook his head. "We've never met. But..."

"Madame Ah Kum, as you remember, Ben, was married to Da Chao," Rosey said. "After his death, she became Khu Qian's property."

"Qian is a madman, Pa," Adam explained. "You remember the jade dragon his grandfather and Da Chao fought over, and all the possession of it implied? According to my sources, Khu Zhuang's grandson believes all that and more."

"And how do you know this, son?" Ben asked as he took a seat.

Adam glanced at the Chinese woman before continuing. "Madame Ah Kum contacted the men I work for, offering to give them information concerning Qian's organization if they would guarantee her safety and see that she made it back to China."

"And who, son, is it that you work for?" he asked softly.

Adam frowned. "I can't tell you exactly, Pa. I'm sorry about that. Until Qian's organization is dismantled, I'm sworn to secrecy on some accounts. But I can tell you this, the men I am associated with – on two continents – are good men who are entirely devoted to breaking Khu Qian's grip on Sacramento and Vallejo and stopping all of his abhorrent practices. He enslaves men and women, Pa. Children too. He sells them like you would sell cattle – after hooking them on the drugs only he can supply." Adam shuddered. "And that's only the tip of the iceberg."

Ben had been watching Madame Ah Kum. Her dark eyes were averted. Adam's words seemed to paint her a hero.

Somehow, he doubted it.

The rancher moved closer to the settee so he could address the woman directly. "Was it you who told Khu Qian that it was my son, Joseph, who killed his grandfather?" He noticed Adam looked shocked. "It's what Jian told us, son, and I trust him."

When the Chinese woman remained silent, Rosey spoke. "It's true, Ben." She smiled sadly as he looked at her. "I'm afraid you have the Cartwright reputation to blame."

"What?"

Rosey glanced at Ah Kum and then turned back to him. "She's terrified. She was afraid Qian would find out about her cooperation with the authorities. She wanted him away from Vallejo, but more than that, she wanted him dead. Madam Ah Kum thought the best way to insure that was to send Qian to the Ponderosa."

"Whatever for?" he all but shouted.

"Because you will kill Qian," the Chinese woman said, her voice scarcely a whisper in the dark.

"She knew you'd beaten Zhuang, Ben," Rosey explained. "She believed you would beat Qian too." The handsome woman shrugged at his disbelieving look. "It's the reason she came with me. She believes she is safe here. Madame Ah Kum believes you will kill Qian, and when you do, she will be free."

Ben felt his fingers form fists. There was a rage building in him that had nowhere to go. He wanted to, but couldn't take it out on this frail, self-seeking woman.

"Pa," Adam said, his voice thoughtful. "It may do us well that Madame Ah Kum is here. I'm sure she has information that can help us defeat Qian."

The rancher drew several calming breaths before continuing. "This take-down you speak of, Adam, when is it to happen?"

"It may have happened by now," his son said. "It was scheduled for this week. Qian was supposed to have been taken and his organization destroyed. You, Joe, and Joe's family – all of you were supposed to be safe. That's why...why I did everything I have done; why I left my life behind. I did it not only to take Qian down, but so all of you would be safe from the monsters." His son sighed. "I was so arrogant, Pa. I got in over my head. When I wanted to, I couldn't get out. I was in too deep." Adam swallowed hard. "And now, with Qian free, it seems it may never end."

Ben walked over to his son and placed his hand on his shoulder. "What happened, Adam? Do you know? What went wrong?"

Adam shook his head. "Everything progressed as it should. The last communication I had indicated everyone was in place and only waiting for a signal. When Jude and I left England, I was confident that I had accomplished everything I had set out to accomplish. Once in the states, it quickly became clear that everything had changed. We were followed. Everywhere we went, Qian's men were there ahead of us. One day, the notes began to appear. Sometimes they were delivered by hand, but most often they were waiting for us when we arrived in a new city or settled into a hotel."

"Notes?"

"Threatening notes, Pa. Qian made it very clear that I was going to pay for betraying him and that the payment exacted would be the death of those I loved – you, Joe, my wife and children." Adam smiled at his look. "Yeah, Pa, I'm married too. We meant to surprise you with a visit, but then...things happened. Kate should be on her way here now. I'm afraid for her, Pa, and for my children..." His son frowned. "Pa, what is it?"

How could he have forgotten? Adam didn't know. His son didn't know that the woman he loved and his children were safe and, in fact, upstairs in this house. Ben opened his mouth to tell him just that, but then, found he didn't need to.

Adam had risen to his feet. His hazel eyes went wide and his mouth gaped as he took a stumbling step forward. Ben knew before he looked what it was that had surprised him so. Kate was standing at the top of the stairs with BJ asleep in her arms. Lisbet stood at her side, clinging to her mother's hand, looking shy and uncertain.

Terror might await them. In fact, it almost certainly did. But at that moment fear was meaningless. For him, for Joseph and Bella, but most of all for Kate and her children there was only joy.

Adam was home.

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Mama was home. He couldn't remember where she'd gone, but he knew – somehow – she'd just come back. He knew it because she was humming as she moved around the room. Men were so different from ladies. Ladies had all their 'finery' as Pa liked to put it, like jewels around their necks and bone combs in their hair, and so many white skirts under their dress that if you climbed inside and took hold of their feet, there wasn't a Paiute in miles who'd be able to find you. Whenever he did that, it was like bein' in a lavender patch. Mama always smelled of lavender.

Except now she smelled like one of Hop Sing's cakes, all-over cinnamon and vanilla.

Joe Cartwright shifted uncomfortably and fought to pry one eye open.

Something wasn't right here.

"I think he's waking up," a hand cautioned as it took hold of him, and then added, "Joseph, don't try to move."

No. Wait. That wasn't right.

Hands couldn't talk.

There had to be a person attached to it and it sure as hell wasn't his mama, 'less her voice had gone down several octaves and her skin grown tough as leather.

And there was only one person who still called him 'Joseph'.

Finally succeeding with both eyes, Joe opened them to view the one constant he had known his entire life.

"Pa?"

As he said the word, the curly-headed man winced. Pain stabbed his chest like a knife. He looked down to find it bandaged and the bandage matted with dried blood. He saw too that someone had removed his ruined clothes and apparently given him a wash. Automatically, he thought of Hop Sing, but then, no, he remembered he wasn't a little boy anymore and he had a wife. Joe's hungry gaze sought her. That was Bella's scent he had nosed – cinnamon and vanilla.

When he finally found her, it was across the room by the chest of drawers.

Bella was packing.

His confused gaze went to his father. The older man favored him with a slight smile and a shake of his white head, as if to say, 'It's not what you think'.

Even so, he had to know.

"So does this mean you're finally givin' up and goin' to find that city slicker?" Joe asked, scowling at the air in his voice

Bella whirled at the sound. She dropped the chemise she was holding and came swiftly to his side. "You keep doing this and I just might," she said softly as she bent down and kissed his forehead.

"Is that...all I get?" He scowled as his question was interrupted by a short, harsh cough.

"Until the doctor says otherwise," Bella scolded. Then kissed him on the lips.

To the sound of an accompanying 'Harrumph!"

Joe leaned back and closed his eyes. "No," he whimpered. "Not again..."

"I'm just about as 'delighted' to see you as you are to see me, Joe," Doctor Martin said. "I had hoped marriage and fatherhood would put an end to your rough and ready ways."

"And I'd hope my gettin' married would allow you to retire," he growled.

"I have this fear that, so long as there is a Cartwright alive, I will never retire." Paul Martin made a tsking noise as he headed for the door. "I was worried about you, young man, but since I see you're awake, I think I will leave you in the hands of these your capable caregivers and go check on that son of yours. That gunshot wound of his seems to be healing nicely, but with a little one, well, it's best not to take chances."

Joe had leaned back and closed his eyes, steeling himself for the inevitable probing and prodding that would come upon Paul Martin's return. It was a stupid thing to do and he'd all but fallen back to sleep when the physician's words registered. For a moment he couldn't believe what he'd heard – he figured it was just a part of a nightmare – but when he opened his eyes and saw the tension in both his father and his wife, he knew it was true.

Someone had shot his son.

His four-year-old son!

"Joe, no!" his father's stern voice commanded as he took hold of the covers and tossed them back. "Paul said you shouldn't get out of bed for at least two days and it hasn't been one. Joseph!"

"Joe Cartwright! You listen to me," his wife scolded. "I have enough to worry about without you putting yourself in more danger. Joe – !"

His feet were on the floor. His fingers were locked in a death-grip on the bedpost and he was rising under his own power – meager as it was. "Where is Eric?" he demanded. "Where's my son?"

"Here," a deep voice answered. "He's here and he's safe. Now, Joe, get back in bed before you set a bad example for your son."

Joe froze where he was; his fingers clamped on the carved wood. Truth to tell, he was pretty sure he wouldn't have made it two steps without falling flat on his face. He shifted slightly and looked toward the door and then did a double-take. Filling the frame was his long-lost brother Adam, just as he'd expected.

Except Adam had a little curly-headed boy on each arm.

Both boys turned their faces toward him. He was struck dumb by the resemblance.

"Should I pinch you?" he heard his father ask with a soft chuckle as he gripped his arm and assisted – well – forced him back to bed.

"It might not hurt," Joe muttered as his head hit the pillows.

Even as he spoke, his son slipped from Adam's embrace. The moment the little boy's feet hit the floor, he was on the move.

"Papa!" Eric exclaimed as he threw himself onto the bed and began to plow through the covers toward him. "Papa!"

Adam winced as he shifted his hold on the other squirming child. "I can see whose lungs he inherited," he said with a wry twist to his lips.

Eric made a beeline for him, but stopped just short. As he looked him up and down, the expression on his son's cherubic face changed from one of puzzlement to fear. Finally, he reached out and touched what Joe knew had to be his battered face.

"Papa? You okay?"

Joe glanced at Bella and then raised a hand to trace the ugly wound on the side of his son's face. "Punkin," he said, as tears entered his eyes, "are you?"

Seeming to take his father's question as a 'yes' to his own, Eric beamed. "Me's fine! And I gots me a new best-est friend. And another cousin and an uncle and auntie too!"

Adam remained anchored in the doorway. At their father's urging, he moved a few paces into the room and then stopped, as if unsure of his welcome.

Which was fine. Joe wasn't sure he was welcome either.

Eric held his hand out and waved the other little boy over. Adam hesitated and then surrendered his hold, allowing the boy to race across the room and leap onto the bed. From his brother's expression, it was apparent this was Adam's son.

And his spitting image.

Joe laughed out loud.

"Don't rub it in," his brother groused. "I mean, Pa, look! What was God thinking? Three of them!"

"This is BJ, Papa," Eric declared as he bounced up and down on the bed. "That stands for Benjamin Joseph 'case you ain't smart enough to figure it out."

BJ was frowning, his lips curled with a familiar pout. His nephew studied him a minute and then looked back at his father.

"Are you sure this is Uncle Little Joe?" the boy asked.

"Yes," Adam said, biting back a smile, "though I admit the silver curls threw me off."

His brother's son turned back and pinned him with his cool hazel eyes. "I don't believe it," BJ announced.

Joe exchanged a glance with his brother. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'm me," he said, trying his best not to laugh at the boy's serious expression.

BJ's curly head shook. "Papa told mama and mama told me that Uncle Little Joe Cartwright was the quickest draw with a six gun, the best bronco-buster, the fastest horse rider, the smartest Cartwright, and the best-est little brother ever. You're just an old man!"

Khu Qian didn't need to worry about him livin' very long. These two little mischiefs were gonna kill him with laughter.

Joe managed to choke out, "The smartest Cartwright?"

Adam's expression was priceless. It set him off giggling until he was clutching his side.

"Now, just what is going on in here?" Paul Martin's authoritative voice roared. "I turn my back for just a minute and I find a party being thrown in my patient's room?" The older man paused and waited until Joe looked up and met his gaze. Paul nodded his head at Pa who was looking hale and well and laughing his head off, and then his eyes returned to him.

'The best medicine,' he mouthed.