Whose Sin is Her Love – chapter one
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"Pa. Pa!" Footsteps sounded as a lone figure in black crossed the well-worn boards of the Ponderosa ranch house and headed for the massive stone fireplace that was the center of his home. "PA!"
"What you yell for? Mistah Adam yell like father!" Hop Sing bustled into the room and over to him, hands and apron flapping. "You wake up Little Joe!"
"Joe? Upstairs?" Adam looked toward the staircase. "I thought Joe was out mending fences."
"Little Joe come home early. He yell at Hop Sing too. Stomp up stairs." The Asian man shook his head. "Hop Sing quit soon. Go some place quiet."
"Ah, come on now," he said as he placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "You couldn't live without us and you know it."
"Hop Sing can try."
Adam chuckled as he removed his hand. "What was Joe mad about?"
"He couldn't do the work." The man in black pivoted toward the staircase as his father appeared at its top. "I tried to talk to him. Joseph was so sullen and angry it wasn't any use. I left him in his room to stew in his own juices."
"Stew! Juices?! Hop Sing forget food!" The little man turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen. He stopped when he reached the table. "Mistah Ben tell number three son come down and eat. Boy too skinny. Need stew and juices!"
"I'd do that, but he's sound asleep," the older man replied as he reached the main floor.
"Asleep?" Adam was surprised. "In the middle of the day? Is he all right?
"Your brother is still recovering, Adam, not that he will admit it. He pushes himself too hard." Pa plopped down in the red chair before the fire. "Do I expect too much? Is that why Joseph feels he has to prove himself day after day?"
He took a seat across from his father. "Did he hurt himself?"
"Almost. I sent Joseph out to work with Jim and Dan. Jim told me Joe had just finished placing a post when he turned and stumbled. When Jim suggested your brother take a break, that little scamp told him – in no uncertain terms – where he could put the sledge he was holding and stormed off in a huff. According to Jim, your brother swung up onto Cochise and went right over the other side!" His father shook his head. "Jim said Little Joe was out for thirty seconds. Dan came over and ordered him to head for home."
"And Joe listened to him?"
"Your brother respects Dan. Sometimes, I think, more than he respects me." Pa sighed. "At least he listens to Dan better."
"Do you think this has to do with what happened last month? You know, in the desert?"
Adam shuddered with the memory of the tragedy that had almost occurred. He and Hoss had arrived too late to see their little brother lying on the boiling sand, trussed up like a steer waiting for the kill. Just like they'd missed Little Joe's feeble attempts to beg water from the man who meant to kill him. What they hadn't missed was the ride home. Little Joe nearly died from what Sam Wolfe did to him. If it hadn't been for the soldiers they'd come across along the way, they would have lost him. As it was, they only just got him to Yuma in time. The doctor there diagnosed his brother as suffering from sunstroke, dehydration, and a myriad of other ills. Once the crisis passed, the man told them it would be at least a month before the teenager even approached normal.
Joe, of course, being Joe turned those four weeks into three. On the twenty-first day the kid rose from his bed and came downstairs – without permission, mind you! On the twenty-third, Pa relented and allowed him to rejoin the living. He gave Joe a few chores, light work mostly, in the yard and around the house. This morning – day twenty-five – Joe'd insisted he was 'fine' and complained and cajoled until their father gave him permission to ride fence with Dan and Jim.
That had gone swimmingly.
"You mean what happened with Sam Wolfe?" Pa shrugged. "You know your brother. He holds himself responsible."
"For Emiliano's death?"
"For not being smart enough or fast enough or strong enough. For not stopping Sam Wolfe on his own. And, yes, for Emiliano's death."
Adam hesitated. Still, it had to be said. "I'm amazed Joe held his own as well as he did. He's just a kid."
Pa's gaze flicked to the stair. Adam winced as his followed. Fortunately, there was no irate little brother standing there, fists formed and nostrils flaring, ready to start a fight. A slow smile curled his father's lips as he agreed. "Yes, he is. But don't you ever tell your brother I said that."
The man in black frowned as a vision of that 'kid' swaying in the saddle and almost toppling off on the way back to Yuma flashed before his eyes.
"Maybe I should go check on him. That must have been a bad fall…"
"I looked in before I came down, but I don't think it would hurt for you to do so." Pa rose and headed for the kitchen. "I have a couple of things to go over with Hop Sing before supper. If Little Joe's awake, see if you can get him to come down and eat."
"Sure thing, Pa." Adam headed for the stair. As his foot hit the bottom step, his father called him back.
"Adam?"
"Yeah, Pa?"
"I forgot. You were looking for me. Was it something important?"
He stiffened. Dear Lord! How could he have forgotten?
His father sensed the shift in his mood and came closer. "What is it, son?"
Adam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out to his father and watched as the older man quickly scanned the type-set it contained.
The look of surprise on Pa's face was to be expected.
"Adah? She's back in town?"
The paper was a playbill he'd snatched off the side of the Palace Theatre. It announced that Adah Menken or, 'The Menken' as she was now known, was due in Virginia City for a return engagement. The beautiful woman was displayed in all her dubious glory, seemingly naked and bound astride a charger. The copy read: 'THE PALACE, unprecedented success, Miss Adah Isaacs Menken Regan as Mazeppa!'
Adam shuddered.
Adah Regan.
He found his voice a moment later. "She'll be here shortly. The engagement lasts a week."
His father frowned at the playbill and then looked up at him. "I want you to know, son, that any feelings I had for Adah were driven out by her callous behavior. First of all, she left with that man and, secondly, she did so without knowing whether your brother had survived the beating he took at John C. Regan's hands."
Adam winced. "Read it again, Pa," he said. "Be careful to pay attention to the banner at the bottom."
His father stared at him and then did as he asked. Pa's near-black eyes ran over the copy at the top once more and then moved to the smaller print at the bottom.
His hands started shaking.
"How could…?" The older man looked up with a mixture of incredulity, and a bit of the wrath of God in his near-black eyes "How dare he?" he roared.
Adah wasn't the only one coming back for a return engagement. Her husband was traveling with her.
John C. Regan was coming back to town.
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Little Joe Cartwright sucked in the agony that was his body and shifted so his feet were off the bed. Pa'd thought he was acting like a four-year-old when he came into the house and told him so. He didn't care. Making Pa angry kept the older man from seeing just how bad off he was. From the time the White One's hooves had made contact with Cash Wolfe's body everything had gone downhill – he'd had a gun turned on him by a friend, been chased through the desert on the back of Colonel Greene's horse, watched that magnificent animal die by his hand, and then been treated like an animal himself, trussed up and ready for the kill.
He'd killed Emiliano.
He hadn't held the gun that shot the vaquero, but he might as well have. Emiliano had taken that bullet for him.
So he could live.
There were times when that was okay. When he understood. He'd have done the same thing for the other man. But there were times – like today – when he was wore out and couldn't even lift a sledge that made him feel like a complete and total failure. 'Little' Joe. Little boy. So young he had to have someone look out for him.
So young, he had to be protected.
"Damn!" Joe snarled as he pushed himself to his feet and headed for the window. He was nearly eighteen, after all, and a man. He was old enough to be married and practically old enough to have children of his own! He wasn't a kid or a little boy anymore and yet everyone treated him like he was and he was sick of it! So what if he was a little weak? He'd seen Pa take a bullet and be up and out of bed in two days. Adam and Hoss and Pa would have tied him down to the bed rails and fed him soft food for a month if it had been him! Hoss and Adam didn't give up when they were a little sore. Why did Pa think he needed to go to bed just 'cause he'd fallen off his horse? It was unfair and aggravating and just….
Joe took hold of the blown glass aftershave bottle on his dresser and threw it so hard it crashed against the wall. He stood, panting, watching the oil run down and ruin the wallpaper until someone cleared their throat. The sound made him turn toward the door.
Adam stood there, one shoulder propped against the side-jamb. "Feel better?" he asked.
Joe's nostrils flared. He nodded his head. "Yes."
His brother entered the room. "You won't feel so good when Pa makes you strip and replace – and pay for – that strip of paper."
Pa had good taste. The paper was hand-blocked – and expensive.
He swallowed hard. "I got savings."
"I'm sure you do, and probably have a much better use for them than buying wallpaper." Adam sat on the edge of the bed. "Joe, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he snapped as he turned back to the window.
"The shattered glass at your feet begs to differ."
Joe closed his eyes and counted to ten. His relationship with Adam was odd, to put it mildly. There were times when that tone set him off, making him mad as a rattler on a spit, but there were other times – like now – when it brought back memories of his childhood and the supportive talks he'd had with his older brother. Along with that came a warm rush of feelings – love, feeling safe.
Being protected.
The handsome teenager glanced at his brother. He forced a smile. "Just feeling, well, like…."
"Like a fledgling held under the wing when it knows it can fly?"
The smile broadened.
"Come and sit down, okay?" Adam asked. "You're making me nervous."
"How come?"
"You're old enough to fly, Joe, but not out of a two-story window."
There was more to that statement and he knew it.
Joe plunked down on the bed. "So what do you want to talk about?"
"You."
"Adam…."
His brother held up a hand. "Give me a chance."
Joe crossed his arms and leaned back against the headboard. "Okay. Shoot."
Adam smiled. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine."
"Joe, it's me. Really. How do you feel?"
The teenager twisted his lips. "I hurt like hell."
"You've been doing too much."
"Adam, I can't sit around all day and heal. I'll go nuts!"
"Granted," his brother answered. "How do you hurt? I mean, should I go get Doctor Martin?"
"For land's sake, Adam, I wouldn't have told you if I thought you were gonna –"
"Just give me an honest answer."
Joe thought a moment. "No. And that is the truth. I've been having headaches. They make it hard for me to concentrate sometimes. I get tired kind of easy and my muscles cramp. None of that is bad enough to need a doctor. I've seen you and Pa in worse shape and you kept going."
"You're right. You're not a boy anymore, you're a man, and we have to trust you to know when something is too much for you." His brother pursed his lips. "Can I trust you on that?"
"Sure, you can."
"All right then. I didn't come up here just to check on you – though Pa thought I did. I came up here to ask you to ride the line with me and check out the shacks before winter sets in. But I have to know I can count on you and that you aren't going to keel over on me. We're going to be a long way from help, little brother. We'll have to rely on each other and ourselves."
Joe brightened visibly. "Really? You want to take me along?"
"I can't think of anyone else I would rather have at my side."
Joe frowned, suspicious. "What about Hoss? How come you didn't ask him to go?"
Adam looked him straight in the eye. "Because I want to take you. We've never done it together before – at least, without someone else along. It will give us time to get to know each other."
The teenager snorted. "You've been back from college for seven years, Adam. I think we know each other pretty well."
His brother rose to his feet. "I'll admit I know 'Little' Joe, my baby brother, but I want to get to know Joe Cartwright, the man."
He was touched – and a bit astonished.
"Gosh, Adam…. I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything," Adam replied. "Just be ready at 5 o'clock tomorrow morning to head out."
"Five?!"
His brother pinned him with his whiskey-brown eyes. "Unless you'd prefer four?"
"No…five…is fine."
"I'll have Hop Sing prepare us a couple of kits. We'll be gone for about three weeks."
Three weeks away from his mother hen of a father. He'd miss Pa, but he sure would enjoy being treated like a man instead of that little boy.
"Thanks, Adam."
The man in black had reached the door. He turned back with a smile. "No thanks needed. I'm looking forward to it, and Joe…."
"Yeah?"
"You might want to take it easy until we leave."
He started to protest, but knew his brother was right. "What am I gonna tell Pa? He'll think I'm sick if I skip my chores tonight."
"Eat supper and then ask to be excused. Pa already thinks you're pushing too hard. Hoss and I can handle the chores." Adam pointed a finger at him. "And remember, I expect you to be dressed as well as bright eyed and bushy-tailed when I knock on your door at four-forty-five."
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Adam closed the door to his brother's room and leaned against it. He felt like a louse. It was true the line-shacks needed looking after and that he'd intended to do it soon – as in, about a month from now. It was also true that he'd intended to take Hoss with him. Traveling with Hoss was like wearing an old shoe – comfortable and easy. He and Hoss could ride for hours in companionable silence, enjoying the scenery and their own thoughts.
Traveling with Little Joe was like pulling on a brand new pair of store-bought boots. They protested when you shoved your feet in and continued to complain with every step you took for the next few weeks.
Joe was a man now, but he was a young one. Depending on the month, there were twelve years between them and, at times, he felt like it might as well have been twenty. His brother was excitable and unpredictable, on top of the mountain one minute and at the bottom of a chasm the next; feisty and funny and absolutely irritating at one and the same time. You couldn't help but love him, but most of the time Joe made you want to do one of two things – gag him or smack him upside the head.
That was, if you didn't want to hug him.
Adam let out a sigh as he pushed off the door and headed downstairs. He'd heard Hoss return. It surprised him to find that middle brother still had his coat on and was planning on heading back out to take care of a few things in the barn before supper. He decided to join him.
So they could talk.
"So he bought it, eh? Hook, line, and sinker?" Hoss asked as he reached for a pitchfork to toss some hay.
Adam pushed the door closed behind them and even took the extra precaution of dropping the bar into place.
"Yes. I told Joe we'd been gone about three weeks."
His brother nodded. "That's more than enough time for Miss Menken and that there Regan feller to do what they gotta do and get out of Virginia City."
Adam studied his brother. "Thanks for suggesting Joe come with me instead of you. It's an elegant solution to the problem. Or to one problem, at least."
Hoss stopped in mid-pitch. "You got more?"
"Yes, I do. You."
Joe might look like an angel, but Hoss won hands-down for the best 'Who me?' innocent look. "What do you mean me?"
"I need a promise from you."
His brother was wary. "What promise?"
"That you won't go after Regan."
The big man let out a sigh. "You know I can't promise you that, Adam. That man done near killed little brother the last time he was in town. I ain't gonna let that bully go and get by with doin'– "
He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Yes, you are, and, yes, you will."
"Adam…."
"I want a promise that you won't take on Regan while I'm gone. Otherwise, I won't take Joe with me."
"But Adam, you gotta!" Hoss tossed the rake to the barn floor. "If Little brother gets wind that prizefighter is in town, he'll go try and take him on. You heard what Little Joe said last year after it happened. Regan told him if he ever saw him again, he'd kill 'im!"
Adam crossed his arms. "Nevertheless, I won't take him."
"You're joshin'."
"No, I'm not. I will not take one brother up into the high country to save his life, just to sacrifice the life of my other brother." He met the big man's incredulous stare. "I need that promise and I need it now."
Hoss muttered under his breath for a few seconds before nodding his head. "Okay, you got it."
"I got what?"
The big man sighed. "I won't take on John C. Regan alone."
"Or in any way."
"Or in any way. Gol-darn it, Adam!"
"I need another promise."
"What else do you want? I done said I'd leave that there monster alone!"
He nodded. "And I believe you, The second promise doesn't have to do with you, Hoss."
"Who's it got to do with then?"
"I need you to promise me that you'll make sure Pa doesn't take on Regan either."
Their father had vowed revenge that night as he sat at Little Joe's side – they all had. The boy had been so battered he was almost unrecognizable. Pa swore then that if Regan ever came back to Virginia City, he'd make sure justice was done.
Trouble was, Pa believed in frontier justice.
"I'll try, Adam. But you know Pa."
"Yes, I do, and unfortunately there was no way of getting around telling him that Adah was coming back to town – with Regan. I knew someone else would let him know if I didn't, or he would see the posters the next time we went to town. I spoke to Roy briefly before I left and asked him to keep an eye out for any trouble." Adam grinned. "If it comes to it, Roy said he would trump up a charge and toss Pa in jail and keep him there until Adah and her entourage leave."
Hoss couldn't help it. He grinned too. "Pa in jail?"
Adam nodded.
"It's better than in the ground."
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