2
Adam left once Wi-jah had someone to look after her, heading for the Tungsten ranch outside Reno. He hadn't seen Sarah, her sisters, or her mother since their visit at Christmas, and somehow felt more and more nervous, the closer he got to their spread. He told himself the feelings were silly, and did what he could to ignore them, riding down the ranch road. When he arrived at the ranch house he found Becky, the youngest of the three sisters, and Rachel, their mother.
"Sarah, and Jenny, are in Reno shopping." Becky said with a knowing smirk on her face. She got a gentle swat from her mother for her teasing before Rachel invited Adam in for tea.
Adam explained the circumstances, leaving out the gorier details. Both Becky and Rachel were instantly on their feet offering cast off baby things to Adam, from bonnets and dresses, to diapers, blankets, toys and booties.
Before Adam could stuff the things into his saddle bags, Rachel offered him a carpet bag to carry them in, kindly avoiding saying what she thought of the cleanliness of the saddle bags. They sat together at the dining table making a list of things to watch for with a baby, times to feed her, what to do after feeding and before feeding. Some of it Adam remembered from his attempts at caring for his young brothers, but he figured there was more to learn from a household of women than he could ever have hoped to learn on his own.
The list of things that Rachel wanted to send him home with started to get longer than his arm, and more than he could carry on his horse. When Adam suggested that he simply wrap the child up and bring her to the Tungsten ranch, Rachel refused. "Expose that poor thing to the cold for such a long hard trip. No, Adam. I'll send Sarah and one of her sisters to the Ponderosa in the morning with a wagon and all of these things."
"I really only came for the goat milk, I feel guilty taking all this." Adam said.
"Do you see an infant here?" Rachel asked, pointedly. Becky giggled.
"Adam, these things are being kept for the first of us to marry and have babies of our own. Until that happens, they might as well go to your little orphan." Becky said.
"And you won't pay for the milk either." Rachel said.
"Then I'll pay for the cheese."
"You're not going to give cheese to that poor girl?" Becky asked.
"The cheese is for Hoss." Adam said.
The ladies laughed and sent him on his way with a pint jar of goat's milk and his pamphlet of instructions, promising that Sarah would be there by midday on the morrow.
Adam lingered a little longer than normal at the point where the ranch road met the road to Reno, and took his time covering the first mile just in case. When Sarah didn't come along in the buggy, Adam decided he'd waited long enough, and got Sport going at a fair clip.
When he returned home he took the goat's milk into the kitchen, brought the bag of clothes and blankets into the main room, then looked after Sport. He tromped up the stairs to check on his father and found Hoss and Joe standing in the doorway to his room. Hoss shushed him from the end of the hallway, then waved for Adam to join them. When he got to the door Adam crept into the room and smiled.
Ben had been propped up on his pillows to eat. The empty plate and bowl were set to the side on the bed and Ben had clearly been given visitation time with Wi-jah. She lay, wriggling happily in the safety of Ben's arm, his elbow propped into position by a pillow. Ben was fast asleep.
Adam was hit with the memory of his father doing that with Hoss when he wouldn't sleep, and later with Joe whenever he had a fever. Never once had either of his brothers managed to wriggle out of Ben's hold, whether their father was awake or not.
"How long has he been sleeping?" Adam asked.
"Half-an-hour." Joe said with a shrug. "I never knew he could do that."
"He did it all the time with the two of you." Adam whispered back. "Best we let him sleep without her waking him up, though."
Adam crept in and took Wi-jah, while Joe retrieved the tray. The minute her weight was gone Ben began to wake himself. Adam put his hand down where Wijah's head had been, whispering for Ben to go back to sleep. Once his father was peaceful again, Adam left the room.
In the main room he showed his brothers what Rachel Tungsten had sent with him. Hoss was especially delighted to see the cheese, even if Hop Sing wouldn't let him near it. While Joe went to warm up the goat's milk and feed Wi-Jah, Hoss showed Adam the bits of jewelry they had dug out of the hide bags their father had brought with him down the mountain.
Adam looked over the simple beaded charm bag. "Probably a medicine bag." He said.
Hoss handed him a belt, decorated with intricately interwoven shells, beads and bits of bone. The handiwork was impeccable and might have indicated the woman's position in the tribe, or the favor of someone in a position of power. Adam sat and stroked his lower lip for a moment, then said. "It could be that she was in love with a chief's son, or a medicine man even…" Adam said, his thumb sliding over the beads on the medicine bag. "But the marriage wasn't approved by the chief, or the gods, what have you...when it was discovered that she was with child, she was forced to leave the tribe."
"This knife is the only other thing Pa grabbed." Hoss said. He handed Adam a wood handled knife, in a soft leather sheath. The sheath was almost too big for the blade and what had once been a line of fringe going down the outside edge was now only a few strands. Two faint red lines, running parallel to each other, meandered down the length of the sheath like the body of a snake or a river. Between those lines a smaller squiggle went back and forth, touching one edge, then the other.
The knife itself had been honed so many times it was almost a stiletto. It reminded Adam of a blade he had very recently had in his shoulder, and the joint ached in response to the memory. The handle had long ago been wrapped in a strip of hide, but over time the hide had worn thin and was coming undone near the hilt of the blade. Adam peeled it back and revealed two metal rivets holding the wood of the handle tight around the tang.
"This is a white man's knife. And a Bannock sheath." He said.
"Bannock?" Hoss asked. "She must'a been a prisoner of there's a long time ago."
"Must mean the baby is half-Shoshone." Adam said, something spinning at the back of his mind. He stood and looked out the window, then sighed. "I sure would like to get back up to that lean-to. Bury the mother, see what else I can find."
"It's noon now. You wouldn't hardly make it before dark, and there's an angry, wounded cat up that'a'way." Hoss said.
"And Sarah will be here by noon tomorrow." Adam bit the inside of his cheek then admitted, "She wasn't at the ranch when I got there. I don't want to miss her."
Hoss smirked at his brother, but chose not to pick. "I suppose I can keep her entertained until you get back. Waitin' longer to go up and do what's right for that little gal won't do."
"Yeah." Adam said, then, "I'll try to bring down some of the hides. Let Wi-Jah grow up with as much of her heritage as possible. I'll try to get back by tonight. If I'm not back by supper time tomorrow, come looking, loaded for bear."
"At least you ain't got ol' Goliath to worry about no more." Hoss called after him.
"Don't remind me." Adam called back as he headed out the door.
The rest of the day Adam covered as much ground as he could, leading a pack mule behind him with the tools he would need to bury Wi-Jah's mother.
Hoss and Joe had their hands full with Wi-Jah and their father. Between old and young, one of them always needed something changed, be it bandages and bedpans, or diapers. Both needed fed, and both needed at least one change of clothing before nightfall. While the growing pile of laundry was primarily the fault of Wi-Jah, Joe began to feel like a charwoman, filling the wash bucket for the second time that day. They had a drying line strung across the main room for diapers and baby clothes alone.
"I sure wish you'd told me Adam was cuttin' out on us, Hoss." Joe whined as he scraped the most indescribably disgusting goop out of diaper after diaper before dumping the foul things into the bucket. "Someone ought'a make these so that they can be thrown away. Man just isn't supposed to handle this sorta thing all the time."
"I told ya to wear gloves, little brother." Hoss said, from where he was eating his dinner with one hand and rocking the cradle with the other.
"I don't want my gloves smelling like this mess!" Joe said, trying to hold his breath as much as possible. "I don't know how women do it."
"They grow out of it, eventually Joe." Hoss said. "Well...some of 'em."
Joe was silent for a moment before he demanded, "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Joe!?"
Joe groaned softly at the call coming from upstairs and looked over his shoulder. "I'm hands deep in baby manure, it's your turn to deal with the bigger baby."
"Pa hears you callin' him that and you're not gonna live to grow old, Joe." Hoss said, slipping the stoppers under the rocker of the cradle, then standing and heading for the stairs.
Joe groused to himself and bent to the task at hand, ready to be done with it. Before Hoss could get back, Wi-Jah started to fuss and Joe could do nothing about it until he had dumped the dirty water in the outhouse and got clean water and soap to wash his hands with. By then Wi-Jah was red faced, full throttle, screaming to beat the band. Joe picked her up and smelled her bottom, but found no problems there. When he touched the side of her cheek she didn't turn to suckle. It wasn't until he had her leaned against him upright, his hand behind her head, bouncing as he walked around the main room, that she stopped crying.
Happy to be doing anything that wasn't diaper duty, Joe sang quietly to the baby, bouncing up and down the length of the main room, watching Wi-Jah's dark brown eyes gaze at everything around her.
When Hoss came down Joe finally had her quiet, her head on his shoulder, drowsing toward sleep.
"What'd Pa want?"
"He wanted to know what Adam was up to. He saw him ride out earlier today. Must've been watchin' for him everytime he woke up. She ok?"
"Yeah." Joe said. "I guess she just got lonely. Wanted a tour of the place."
Hoss leaned down and smiled at the angelic face. "Ain't she the sweetest thing."
"Can't help but love her." Joe said.
That night they put Wi-Jah's cradle in Joe's room. Hoss slept with his door open in case Ben woke and needed anything. Ben struggled to stay awake, anxious about Adam going up on the mountain alone.
He was relieved when he heard a horse coming in, in the wee hours of the morning. He hated being bound to his bed, but he was wise enough to know that the doctor's orders needed to be followed. He waited until he heard boots climbing the stairs then softly called his eldest son's name. He heard the footsteps pause, then turn down the hall toward his door.
"Pa? What are you doing awake?"
Adam came in looking whole and healthy, if tired.
"Hoss told me what you were up to. I was worried."
Adam smirked and came into the room. He checked the stove and added a log, then went to sit on his father's bed with a soft groan.
"Did you find the cat?"
Adam nodded. "I found it. Dead. Your first shot went in inches from its heart. The second one punctured a major artery. The cat probably bled out even before you made it down the mountain."
Ben nodded, relieved.
"And the girl."
Adam's face clouded and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I brought her down off the mountain. I couldn't have buried her there, even with the pick and shovel that I brought. And...I'd like her to be buried on the Ponderosa, anyway."
"Son.." Ben began. "She may have been cast out by the natives, but she probably still has white family somewhere."
"She doesn't." Adam said.
"How can you-"
"She's Ruth Halverson, Pa."
Ben gave him a blank look.
"You remember when I went to Nevada City to see that Fairbanks windmill?"
"I remember you leaving for Nevada City, and never getting there." Ben said.
"I was waylaid by a pair of Shoshone who were after someone they called the White Buffalo Woman. Except it was really a white girl named Ruth Halverson who had lost her father on the trip west, and had been taken in by the Bannocks."
Ben's hand came out and rested on Adam's wrist as he nodded. "I remember now, I remember. The wooden ring."
"That's all she left me with. She went off with the Shoshone to spare my life, and it looks like it cost her hers."
"Adam...that wasn't-"
"I'm not...blaming myself, Pa. I just wish I could have done more."
"Just so long as you remember that it was the cat that killed her. Not you."
Ben watched Adam for a moment then said, "So..Wi-Jah truly is an orphan."
"Unless her Shoshone father decides to claim her, yeah."
"I'm glad you brought Ruth down from there."
"I was thinking about taking her out to Sweet Water Run. We've already got a few friends resting there, anyway."
"I'd love to help you with the task, son, but…"
"No..you rest. We'll visit her together when you're feeling better. I'm going to bed for now, and I'll take care of it first thing in the morning. Between the doc and Sarah Tungsten we're going to have something of a full house again come by noon."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Ben asked, with a smile.
Adam smiled back, squeezed his father's arm then stood and bid him goodnight before heading for his own room. He got only a few hours of sleep before his mind told him he had too much to do. He was dressed and heading north with the body of a woman he had once wanted to marry, trailing behind him.
Sweet Water Run ran crystal clear most of the year, fed by the mountains. The last he had been to the meadow he had been the witness in a trial, following the death of an immigrant family from Germany. The crime had been so dreadful, and the fervor in town so great, that the trial had been moved to a giant tent in the field beside Sweet Water Run. The guilty man had been tried, and had died, by and in its waters. Each of the Cartwrights had shed blood on that ground, too. At the crest of the hill that over looked the meadow there was a line of graves. Most of the dead were victims of a rash of scarlet fever. Some were men that had lost their lives for foolish endeavors.
Adam cleared the snow from the hill, planning to put Ruth next to the grave of two children that died from the fever. The space he picked sat under a tree that would flower come spring. It wasn't the full funeral he wanted to give her, nor putting her high on a tower and burning her remains as the Bannock might have done, but it was something.
Adam used a pickaxe first on the hard ground, then moved the dirt out with a shovel. When he encountered roots, he did what he could to dig around them. By the time the grave was finished the sun was well into the sky and he'd managed to get hot enough to take his coat off. He laid Ruth in the ground, wrapped tightly as she was in the furs that she had likely trapped, skinned and cured with her own hands. They had protected her and her baby, and would now protect her in her grave for a short time.
Adam struggled to pour the first shovelful of dirt over her. The emotion that he had been holding back, had even convinced himself he didn't feel, came to him as he straightened on the hill, shovel full of dirt. He let the tip of the shovel sink back to the ground and hunched his shoulders as the cold crept back in, mourning as the grief washed over him. When the tears began to freeze against his face Adam bent to the shovel and refilled the grave.
It was well past noon when he returned to the main house. He was hungry, cold and tired. A wagon and a buggy sat in the dooryard minus their burdens and teams. Adam took Sport and the pack mule into the barn, tended to their needs, put away his tools, then walked to the house. When Sarah came onto the porch to greet him, wearing the green and peach dress that he loved, a shawl over her shoulders, Adam broke down again. Sarah went to him, sliding her arms under his, tucking into his chest, and Adam held her close, knowing she couldn't possibly know why he was late, or why he was crying, but needing her all the same.
He tried to apologize to her but Sarah shook her head against his shoulder. "Your brothers and father told me what you were you doin'. They explained why it was so important. It's alright, Adam. I'm here."
She stood with him until she realized that he was shivering, and coaxed him inside. Seeing Adam leaning against her, his face drawn and wet with tears, the doctor started and tried to go to him. Adam waved him off with a smile.
"We waited lunch for you, and for your father. It should be out in a few minutes." Sarah told him, kissing his cheek, and wiping tears from his face with her fingers.
Adam wanted to tell her how much it meant, how much he cared for her, how beautiful she looked, how wonderful it had been to have her there on the porch to meet him. The setting was far too public for such words, and for the actions he wanted to take towards her. Instead he put a chaste kiss on her forehead and said, "Thank you."
She smiled at him, like she understood, then ordered him to sit. Adam found Ben sitting at his desk with his leg propped up, going over paperwork with Hoss. Adam could hear Sarah and Jenny talking in the kitchen with Hop Sing. Joe was nowhere to be seen. Adam went up to his room to wash up, found Joe in his room changing Wi-Jah and took over for her care so that Joe could get ready for lunch in peace.
When Adam came down the stairs with Wi-Jah, dressed as she was in white lacy things from head to foot, he felt like a prince, leading a princess down to the ballroom. Every eye came up to meet him, and most of those eyes held adoration in them, aimed directly at Wi-Jah, he was sure. Adam didn't have hold of her for long. The doctor was the first to take her before Sarah swept in with a fresh bottle and burping cloth.
While the baby was fed, Adam and Hoss helped their father to the dining table. The family coalesced, gathering like magnets to the meal. Hop Sing laid out his very best and they ate and rested, and enjoyed each other's company. Ben invited Sarah and her sister to stay overnight, offering them the guest room. Sarah accepted graciously, knowing that it was the weather that would dictate when they could or could not return back to the ranch. They had brought with them some of the surplus from their cold cellar, vegetables and milk and cheese that would all keep well in the winter weather, and add a healthful bounty to the Cartwright household. An act of preparation on their mother's part, should her daughters be extra mouths to feed for longer than a day or two.
That evening Sarah joined Adam in the barn to help with the nightly chores. They finished their work quickly before Adam grabbed a couple of blankets, and led the way into the loft. He made a nest of straw and blankets, pulled Sarah tight against him and they opened the loft doors to look at the stars, huddled together under a quilt.
They talked about the past few weeks they had spent apart, and laughed about Thanksgiving and Christmas, both holidays spent with the Tungsten women and the Cartwright men in the same household. Adam told her about going up to the lean-to, finding Ruth, bringing her back off the mountain, then burying her. He told Sarah about his first encounter with the immigrant woman.
"May I say somethin' selfish, Adam?" Sarah asked after a long silence.
"Sure."
"You knew that woman..only a real short time, and you wanted to marry her." Sarah said, her fingers toying with the corner of the quilt.
Adam pursed his lips. "An argument could be made for the condition I was in at the time." He said carefully.
"Condition?" Sarah asked.
"I..I told you I had hit my head. I had been shot in the leg. I was delirious with fever.."
"Yet you were able to get around well enough to help her fix up her little hut, and follow her down to the river where she was bathin'.."
"Where I thought she was bathing." Adam clarified.
"And you carved her a ring out of wood. With your bare hands-"
"I had a knife."
"When was the last time you carved me anything?" Sarah asked.
"I...do you want a carving? I didn't say it was any good. It looked liked the white part of a hard boiled egg with the yellow cut out of it. It was a silly token-"
"Men don't cry over silly tokens. Men don't go up onto frozen mountain tops and bury women on his own land because of silly tokens." Sarah insisted. "You loved her. You wanted to marry her."
"You're putting more into this than there really is, Sarah."
"How many more women am I gonna find out about that you've intended to marry. How many more "little tokens" have you made for other girls, Adam? What does a big token look like, hm? A horse? A house?"
Adam gave her a sideways glance, narrowing his eyes, and looking instantly guilty.
"A house!?" Sarah demanded. She crawled out of the blankets and struggled to her feet in the straw, stomping to the ladder.
"Sarah..." Adam called, laying down on one elbow. He watched her start to descend the ladder for a second then got to his feet and followed her down a few rungs before he could swing around to the other side of the ladder, under the loft. He descended faster than she did so that he could be there to grab her when she reached the ground. She accepted his help getting to terra firma then started to pull away. "Wait a minute."
"You haven't once taken me seriously, Adam. I don't think you know how to take a woman seriously. Women are an expensive, fanciful part of your whimsy. They come and go into your life and you propose marriage and carve them rings and build them houses. You'll go all out for the game of courtin' a woman because you know you won't have to save any energy for the marriage. And I'm too close to thirty to waste my time on a man who only wants to play games." Sarah threw his hands from her waist, and stormed out of the barn.
Adam watched her stomp into the house from the barn door, wishing his mind would stop repeating the words she'd said to him. Wishing even more so that they weren't ringing even the slightest bit true.
He told his mind to shut up when turned back to the ladder, climbing into the loft to collect the blankets and close the door. He finished closing up the barn for the night, trying to regain the confidence he'd felt when he first went in there. He berated himself for foolishly sharing the story about Ruth and made a note to himself that should there be a future between himself and Sarah, he should forget from his memory, every other woman he'd ever fancied, even for a fleeting second.
When he returned to the house his father and middle brother had gone to bed. Joe was practicing burping Wi-jah, who had demanded a second night time feeding, and Jenny was guiding him patiently. Adam locked the door to the house and banked the fire in the fireplace. He knocked on the door to the guest room to check that Sarah and Jenny had everything they needed for the night. He got no response from Sarah, but Jenny offered to babysit Wi-Jah, and said the cradle was already inside their room.
Adam stayed up until every light was doused and the night grew silent around the house. Before he followed his brother up the stairs he glanced out the window and saw fat flakes falling lazily past it.