12….The Other Shoe Drops

Except for the deathly paleness of her skin, Ava looked beautiful. Her hair was elegantly coiffed and her lips were painted with rouge. She was dressed in a high-necked, violet gown but wore no jewelry. Frank Kaley had told him that her jewelry was in the bank vault; he had put it there himself before he left for Carson City. The information was in the documents he had gathered to hand over to Adam. "After all, they belong to Kitty," Frank had said.

Adam looked down at Ava and it would be easy for anyone else to believe she was merely sleeping but it was obvious to him she was dead. No pulse throbbed at her throat, her skin didn't glisten in the light from the gas lamps. Even her hair seemed less burnished; the light had been extinguished.

"You can close it now," Adam said and the undertaker's assistant, deferentially did so. Then the coffin was taken to the Carson City cemetery where Ava was lowered into the grave, the dirt still fresh and moist. A temporary headstone was placed to mark Ava's grave. A permanent headstone was on order from the Georgia Marble Company, a quarry that was known for its fine marble outcroppings.

A minister, who for $5.00, spoke a few words over Ava's grave, stepped back and the grave diggers who had been standing respectfully off to the side, approached, waiting until each man picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it onto the coffin. Then they shoveled the dirt back on and Ben placed a purchased bouquet of flowers on the grave.

"Thank you, Frank, for all you've done," Adam said, putting out his hand.

"It was the least I could do. I had been with her for over 10 years. I couldn't believe it had been that long. I'm sorry it ended up this way. The word has lost her beautiful voice."

"Do you need anything?" Adam asked him. "Money? Anything at all?"

"No, no nothing, but thank you. I'm going to New York. I'm hoping to find another client, maybe joining a management group. Singers and actors well, they're becoming more desired now that the war is over. Seems that people are eager to be amused – by just about anything."

Frank caught the next train east and Adam and Ben headed back to the Ponderosa; they drove in silence, Adam deep in thought. But about an hour from home, Adam slapped the reins on the backs of the two horses and called out, "H'yah!" The horses' ears twitched and they slightly jumped, picking up their pace. Ben gripped the side of the seat to right himself as the buckboard rocked.

"Take it easy, Adam. You'll dump me off the side. We'll be home soon enough."

"Not soon enough for me. I just…I want to check on Kitty."

"I'm sure she' fine. Maybe a little more spoiled, a little tired by now, but fine." The buckboard careened as a wheel hit a large rock and Ben struggled to say upright. "Adam, slow down a little, would you? You're going to turn us over!"

Adam pulled up the reins a bit and the horses slowed down but Adam kept them at a faster pace than a quick walk.

Ben looked over at Adam. Of his sons, Ben felt he knew Adam best and also, the least. But he recognized the set of Adam's jaw, his determination to get home quickly; something was eating at him, something he had been thinking about during his extended silence. "I didn't say anything because you didn't seem to want to talk and I respected that, but now, well, where did you go when you left Frank and me? To the sheriff's?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Sheriff was at the courthouse so I told the deputy that Turk was responsible for Ava's death and that of the others. He basically laughed in my face. Told me Turk's been under guard and on trial and that he couldn't have done it. Asked me what proof I had and when I told him about Turk's threat, he dismissed it. I understand how ridiculous it all sounded but that's only because he doesn't know what I do. He wouldn't even wire the officials in San Francisco and ask them to investigate it so it's up to me to find justice for Ava. And what's worse is that it's due to me and my testimony. I think I'll have to go to San Francisco myself."

"Adam, just… think a minute. Hanover had enemies – every wealthy man does and I'm sure to keep on top, he destroyed others below him. I'm sure many men wanted Hanover dead. Whoever committed the murders, probably targeted him. Ava and the housekeeper, unfortunately, they were there and had to be…silenced."

"No, I don't believe that. Hanover could have been shot down on the street or as he rode in his buggy. But he was killed in his home, and not just any home. It was a huge house on Nob Hill. The message was that they can get to anyone, anywhere. Someone – more than one person, most likely, broke in, killed the housekeeper and then shot Hanover. He died quickly but Ava, she died…" Adam felt himself choke at the thought of how Ava died. He recovered himself and continued. "She died staring into the face of her killer. She was the intended target and it was a message for me. I know it."

"Adam, If Turk wanted revenge against you, why wouldn't he just have you killed? Why kill Ava?"

Adam faced his father. "I'd think that'd be obvious. If I were dead, I couldn't retract my testimony."

"Oh." Ben sat in silence for a moment. "Adam, step up those horses. We need to get home."

Adam cracked he reins again and the horses took off at a canter, the buckboard careening occasionally, and Ben braced his legs against the front board and held on.

~ 0 ~

"That's Doc Martin's wagon," Adam said as he slowed the buggy. He leaned back, pulling on the reins, and with one foot, pushed down the brake and then leapt off and ran to the house. Ben followed.

Adam threw open the door, holding his breath until he saw Kitty. She and Hop Sing were at the checker table and Hop Sing was watching while Kitty stacked the checkers into a tall tower. When Kitty saw her father, she clambered down and ran to him, the heels of her small boots clicking on the wood floor.

"Pa, Pa, Unca Hoss got hurted!"

Kitty was all right. Adam whispered, "Thank you, God," while he swept Kitty up in his arms, He clutched her close, burying his face in her hair and fought the urge to cry with relief. Kitty was fine.

She struggled in his arms, "But, Pa, Unca Hoss, he gots blood on his head and, Pa…Pa, let me down! Unca Hoss is upstairs."

Adam kneeled and put Kitty down, not ready to let her go. Hop Sing hovered nearby and Adam realized his father was already upstairs having taken the steps two or three at a time.

"I'll go see Uncle Hos, sweetheart, but you stay here with Hop Sing." Then another thought occurred to him; he looked at Hop Sing. "Where's Joe?"

"Mistah Joe, him fine. Upstairs. You want me take Kitty?"

"Kitty, you stay down here with Hop Sing. I'm going to visit Uncle Hoss, okay?"

"I wanna go see Unca Hoss too."

"Missy Kitty," Hop Sing said, bending down, "Hop Sing need help of little one to make pie for Mistah Hoss. It make him feel much better. You help with dough and sugar pouring."

Kitty thought for a moment. She did want to see her uncle; the whole experience had been fascinating and a little frightening. Uncle Hoss was big and it was hard to think of what could hurt him. After all, if he could be hurt, well, where did that leave a child like her?

But helping Hop Sing held a special draw for her. Kitty was fascinated by the kitchen and especially the stove. She liked watching Hop Sing deftly chop and slice vegetables. Hop Sing would sit her on the counter and let her help him make pies. She was also his "special taster" of the fillings, and he would give her pieces of dough to make her own ill-formed pies.

"Pa," Kitty said, looking up at Adam, "tell Unca Hoss I'm gonna make him a pie. Okay?"

"Okay." Adam felt weak suddenly; he had been so tense for so long that now it was as if his body just wanted to collapse. "Thank you, Hop Sing. If you haven't yet, bolt the kitchen door."

Hop Sing nodded and then he and Kitty went into the kitchen. Adam looked about the room. He walked to the front door and threw the bolt. He then went to all the windows, closed them and the shutters, throwing the hasps to keep the wooden shutters from refolding. Then he headed upstairs.

Hoss lay on the bed, Joe sat in the corner chair and Dr. Martin was talking with Ben.

"Now, Pa, don't worry none," Hoss said weakly, his eyes closed. The doctor had applied a plaster to the side of his head. "I'm gonna be fine."

"Let me hear that from Doc Martin, here, if you don't mind," Ben said. He felt angry and afraid both at the same time.

Adam looked at the bed; there was a pile of toys on it. Kitty's doll was tucked next to Hoss.

"What's with all the toys?"

Joe, who now stood next to Adam, answered, "Kitty brought them in. She gave him Jemmy to help him feel better but when Doc said he'd need to say in bed for a few days, she brought in all those toys so he could play with them while he got better."

Hoss smiled as he listened but he had yet to open his eyes; apparently, Adam considered, the light hurt his eyes. Adam turned to Joe, "What happened?"

Joe pulled Adam aside. "I'm not quite sure of all the details yet, but from what Hoss said, he was shot from the saddle—knocked him out cold. Said when he came to, his horse was gone – actually it had come home but we hadn't seen it yet – and Hoss said he managed to make it here, crawling part of the way when his head hurt too much and he was too dizzy to stand upright. I was headed out to find him when he came staggering around the barn, holding onto the side for dear life.

"Hop Sing and I managed to get him upstairs but we couldn't keep Kitty out. Anyway, Hop Sing and Kitty sat with Hoss, Hop Sing doing what he could until I came back with the doc. That's all Hoss could manage to say. I asked if he knew who shot him but he just shook his head, well, not really shook it.

"Doc said Hoss is lucky. It didn't blind him or kill him. A few centimeters difference and, well, Hoss is damn lucky. I think that if the shot hadn't knocked him cold, he'd been shot again until he was still – and dead.

"Oh, and something else, Kitty and I had a little talk about death."

Adam sucked in his breath. "What did you say? Did she ask about her mother not coming back?"

"No, not really. She asked me if Hoss was going to die. I told her that Doc said he wasn't. Then she asked me if I knew people who died. I told her my mother died, and Hoss' mother and yours died too. I don't think she knew how to take that 'cause then she asked me if you were going to die. I told her, no. I don't know if it was the right thing to say or not, I mean I could've told her everyone's going to die and all that stuff, but I just couldn't say things like that. She's so little and all."

Adam put a hand on Joe's shoulder. "Thank you. I couldn't have done any better."

Joe nodded and went back to the chair and sat down. It would be a long night.

~ 0 ~

It was difficult to get Kitty down for the night. Before she would get in bed, she begged Adam let her say goodnight to Hoss.

"Kitty, I think Hoss is asleep. We should leave him alone."

"But I wanna see him! Please, Pa, please? Can I?"

Adam considered. Kitty had seen Hoss bloody and staggering. At least now he was cleaned up and resting.

"All right. We'll just go look in on him. In the morning, he'll be better and you can see him again." Adam picked up Kitty and took her in to see Hoss.

Hoss lay sleeping, snoring softly, having been given a dose of laudanum. "He's a big boy, Ben. It'll take more than the usually amount – but don't give him too much," Doctor Martin had said.

"See, Kitty. Uncle Hoss is asleep. Now let's get you back to bed."

"Can I kiss him goodnight?"

Adam was a bit surprised but he lowered his daughter down and she lightly kissed Hoss' forehead. "Goodnight, Unca Hoss."

"Wait," Joe said. He picked up Kitty's doll. "Hoss said to let you take Jemmy to bed with you." Joe handed the doll to Kitty who clasped the doll against her with her free arm. Joe bent down and picked up the toy bear and placed it next to Hoss. "The other toys will keep him company, but I think he said Jemmy told him she missed you. I think she's lonely for you."

Kitty dropped her head against Adam's shoulder and smiled. "I think so too." Then Joe kissed Kitty goodnight and Adam took her back to her bed. But even then, Kitty wanted to talk. She chattered on about the pie Hop Sing had made and how she had made one for Hoss too. And then she talked about the checker piece towers she had created and how Hop Sing had sung her a Chinese song. It was about a loyal ox. "It's a cow like Dotsie only it's got long horns that go like this!" Kitty put up her arms as wide as she could.

"Kitty, you need to go to sleep now. It's going to be a busy day tomorrow. Now, you need to close your eyes and think of nice things." Adam was going to leave but he had come to recognize the look on his daughter's face; she needed to talk about something. "Is something troubling you?"

She nodded her head. "Unca Joe says Unca Hoss isn't going to die."

"That's right. He's going to be fine."

"He got his head hurted."

"That's right. But the doctor took care of him and he's going to be fine."

"Pa, come 'ere." Kitty motioned for Adam to lean down. "I wanna whisper somethin'."

Adam bent down, turning an ear toward Kitty.

"I'm sorry I hitted you yesterday," she whispered. "And, Pa, don't die."

Adam was overwhelmed. He scooped Kitty up and held her next to him, burying his face in her soft hair as she put her small, round arms about his neck. He had thought he knew what love was. After all, he had read poetry and had identified with the emotions so aptly described in the lilting lines. He loved his father, his brothers and over the years, a few women. And he had loved Ava, whether she had been deserving of it or not. But never before had he been so overwhelmed with a sense of helpless love as now, when he held his daughter in his arms. Adam knew that he would endure any privation, any suffering, any pain for his daughter. He would willingly lie down and die for her sake.

This was love.