Chapter 1

The herd turned just as the hail started in earnest. Hoss could hear man and beast protesting the pelting of the hail even while trying to control the stubborn steers. Turning them away from the coming wind and noise wasn't going to be difficult. Getting them to go anywhere but right back down the trail, would be very difficult. The riders did their best, struggling to be louder than the wind, ducking shoulders and hats against the balls of ice pounding down.

Hoss saw one man get hit, stiffen in the saddle, then start to keel over. Hoss broke from the cows he'd been herding and charged across the stream of cattle, catching the man by his belt before he could fall completely off the horse. Hoss deadlifted the man over his own saddle horn, grabbed the reins of the horse and charged toward the river where he intended to find a place to deposit him. He found a tree to tie the horse's reins to but couldn't put the man down without risking his being trampled by the horse. Hoss kept a firm hand on the man's belt and went back to herding, trying to ride as gently as he could.

At the other end of the herd Ben was charging up the rears of steers so hard he felt like he was jousting. The animals simply didn't want to move, until of course, they felt the hail coming down. He watched the balls of lumpy ice bounce off a few stubborn hides and then laughed at the foolish animals for not having listened to him in the first place. The cows moved and Ben screamed until his voice was raw, keeping one eye on the men around him and another eye on the tornado that had gone from a thin spindly thing to a wedge that took up half the skyline. The top of the tornado was now surrounded by a sparkling garland of lightning, making it look like the gods themselves inhabited the behemoth.

Ben watched the head of the drive turn into the river and rode after a maverick that had been giving him trouble since they'd picked him up. He was turning his horse, heading the steer off and twisting his head around to make sure none of the other cattle had followed him when the newest of his cowhands, eyes on the sky, plowed sideways into his horse. Both animals went down in a shrieking, terrified tangle. Ben felt the reins ripped from his hands by a flying hoof and covered his head with his arms in time to catch a glancing blow. Most of the force went into his arm, but his arm hit his head, just above his left ear and the pain threatened him with blackness almost instantly.

Ben struggled to kick his boots free of the spurs before his horse could roll, lost one boot in the process, then tucked his knees in to his chest and pushed away from the horses. He got up on his knees, then to his feet, swaying in the hard westerly wind. His arm had begun to hurt, only a little, but Ben knew it would only get worse. He pulled his elbow to his side and held it there, trying to make sense of the tangle of hooves and legs and arms. The new hand's horse broke free first, getting to it's feet. His bridle was tangled with the bridle of Ben's horse and the rising of one animal, brought the other animal to it's feet. Ben's horse was limping and wild eyed, tossing it's head back and fighting for control of the bit.

The new hand, a boy named Clyde who had signed on looking like an eastern dude fresh out of college, sat between the two animals looking bewildered. Blood was rolling down his face and he'd lost his new hat to the wind. Yet, somehow, Clyde was clinging to Ben's lost boot. Ben stepped up to the horses, grabbed the tangled bridles and pinched three fingers getting them apart. The horses backed away from each other and Ben bent to angrily rip the boot free of the boy's hand. Ben set the boot down on the ground, stomped into it with a single thrust, then put his good arm down to drag Clyde to his feet.

"S-sorry, Mr. Cartwright." The boy mumbled, still looking too stunned to ride, let alone walk. He touched his fingertips to the blood on his face and stared at them, horrified.

"Get...on...your horse, Clyde. And stay there." Ben growled. He turned to his own animal, ready to mount, then remembered the limp and collected the reigns. He was afoot, his arm might be broken, there was a tornado coming their way...Ben didn't know what else would go wrong, but he knew with devastating certainty that this wouldn't be the end of their troubles.

"Everything was going so well…" Ben growled, heading at a loping run for the river.

Adam had tried three times to shake the cobwebs from his head. The sky above him was clouded with smoke and he could smell hair burning, but his eyes wouldn't focus enough for him to know whose hair. His chest felt heavy and his shoulder was tight in his shirt. His face felt sunburnt but that could have been because it was his own hair on fire. Adam freed his right arm from whatever lay on top of him and patted at his head. He found a patch of curly, shriveled stubble over his right ear but the rest of his hair seemed fine.

Adam pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes and tried again to make the double vision of the world come together. He heard someone moan very near his ear and figured it might have been himself, or any of the other ranch hands caught in the explosion. When the weight on his chest shifted, pinning his hip to the ground suddenly, Adam realized that the moan, and the smell and the weight were all coming from one person. "Jimmy?"

The big man moaned again and Adam pushed himself up a bit, getting a good look at the man's head. He swatted at the coals that were still smoldering on the back of the man's head and the smacks brought the man around all the way, and fighting mad, too. Adam felt both sides of his ribs cave in at once and heard a growl from Jimmy that would rival a bear's. Jimmy was soon on his feet, somehow completely unaffected by the blast. Adam figured it was because he had broken the big man's fall, and surely Jimmy should be thanking him for having saved his life. Instead Adam was dragged to his feet by the front of his shirt.

The yank told him that whatever was wrong with his shoulder was serious, and that his head wasn't too happy with the change in elevation. He caught sight of a giant fist being drawn back and threw his hand up to protect his face, "Jimmy, no!"

The fist didn't fall. Adam peered through the fingers of his hand, gasping for breath. "Your hair was smoldering, Jimmy." He tried explaining and watched the fist uncurl and the big man's hand going to his hair.

"I was puttin' it out." Adam protested. "Putting it out, Jimmy."

The fist fell and Jimmy's face melted from enraged to docile. Adam's shirt was loosed and Jimmy went to brush the ash and dust off his shoulders. Adam waylaid the descending hand before it could reach his wounded arm, patting Jimmy's hand. "Glad you're alright."

Jimmy smiled at him, nodding, then they both turned to look at the barn. The blast had done two things. First it had blown the barn to smithereens. There were pieces of siding and splinters of wood that had once been thick beams scattered in a circle around the yard. The more Adam looked, the more damage he saw to the main house, the bunk house, the corrals. The explosion had taken down three cords worth of timber behind the barn and the horses that had been freed from the barn were now probably scattered all the way to Virginia City.

The blast had also put out the fire.

"Billy! Bucky!" Jimmy called, cupping his hands to his mouth.

"Bucky Weems! Billy Carnes!" Adam called, searching through the still rising smoke. He and Jimmy picked their way around the debris from the barn. They found Bucky on the other side of a broken fence and got him to his feet. He was shaky and soon had an arm tucked tightly around his ribs. Adam spotted a lump growing on the back of his head but he was upright, and Jimmy was getting frantic.

The three of them were soon stumbling around the perimeter of the explosion, calling for Billy and dragging boards, beams and the contents of the barn around, hoping Billy might be underneath. They searched for twenty minutes before Adam turned and realized that one of the men calling for Billy, was Billy.

Jimmy and Billy were reunited and the four of them picked through the debris, lugging half-full water buckets around until they were sure that every spark of the fire had been extinguished. Adam squatted on his heels in the center of the barn and picked carefully through the remains of the crate of coal oil. He remembered Joe asking him where the coal oil should be stored. He remembered thinking that the hay loft would be a perfect place for it, temporarily. Then he remembered not remembering that it was there all winter long.

Adam left the shell of the barn and turned his face to the warm wind, closing his eyes. He shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest, his good hand perched on his hips. The explanation…."Pa...I accidentally tossed a hot horse shoe into one of the stalls and it lit the barn on fire and the fire exploded a crate of coal oil and took the barn and part of the bunkhouse with it…" He mumbled to himself. "Perfectly reasonable."

Jimmy, Billy and Bucky were all sitting on the porch of the house. They had collected the canteens and some towels from the kitchen and were nursing their own wounds best they could. All of them were covered in ash and soot, speckled with bruises, scratches and lumps. Not one of them had a whole shirt on his back. Adam had used a length of singed rope to create a sling for his arm, and in settling his arm into it, had discovered the elbows of shirt were burned clean off. No idea how it happened.

Adam knocked a bit more soot out of his hair, wincing when his fingers encountered the patch over his ear. He limped slowly to the house, favoring his sore ribs. He had just sunk into Pa's rocking chair with a long, powerful sigh, when Hop Sing rounded the corner into the yard with a wagon full of supplies, face white with fear. He pulled his team to a screeching halt and stared in awe at the barn, the bunk house, the missing windows from the main house, the scorched men gathered on the porch.

Adam only understood the first part of the string of Chinese that Hop Sing let loose. Something about working for criminals and firebugs determined to ruin him and bring dishonor to the entire west. He heard "Cartwright Fēngkuáng de!" over and over. Crazy Cartwrights.

When Adam got up again, going to Hop Sing in hopes of calming him down, Hop Sing slapped his hand out of the way, and flung a pointed finger around the yard. "You brow up house. You brow up barn. You brow up whole Ponderosa."

"Now calm down, Hop Sing. The house is fine...just a few windows. And the kitchen...look, the kitchen is pristine." Adam said, gesturing to the side of house that he had designed specifically for one of the best kitchens in the territory. Behind him he heard a soft groan and he cast a glance over his shoulder as Hop Sing started in again, raving in his native tongue. Adam watched the southern most wall of the barn start to waver in the wind, twisting in ways that straight boards and beams weren't meant to twist.

Hop Sing, not too happy at being ignored, yanked on Adam's good arm to bring his attention back, switching to English. "You crean up. Crean up barn, crean up bunkhouse. I have surprise, can't leave surprise in buggy. Need prace to put surprise."

"Sur...surprise, what surprise?" Adam asked, hearing that groaning sound again behind him.

"Soo-plrise…" Hop Sing enunciated. "Flour, corn, vegetable, surprise, surprise!"

"They'll be fine in the kitchen and we can put the rest of them up in Joe and Hoss' rooms. They won't be back for another couple of weeks, and we'll have the barn fixed up in no time. Now will you calm down."

Something snapped behind him. Adam heard it and his shoulders tensed as he whirled around. The central beam on what remained of the southern wall, compromised at it's base, began to tilt toward the center of the barn, taking the whole wall with it. In the path of the falling wall Adam could still see smoldering piles of hay, and the anvil, hammer and pile of horse shoes he'd been working on.

The wind blew a hard gust and pushed the wall back upright and Adam started towards it, calling for Jimmy and his brother. He thought maybe he could find a piece of wood big enough to wedge against the center beam, and keep the wall from falling. It looked for a moment that the wind was going to work for them and not against them and Adam scrambled through the debris on the ground, trying to find a piece big and strong enough to support the wall. He and Billy had hold of both ends and they were waiting for Jimmy to grab the middle when the wind stopped blowing.

The wall teetered, swayed, then fell, collapsing down on the metal working tools. Adam saw the corner of the center beam catch the handle of the hammer, snapping it against the top of the anvil. The head of the hammer was flung into the air like a cannon ball and he and the other men watched it as it arched perfectly toward the house, crashed down through the roof of the kitchen, then settled in what sounded like the center of the china hutch.

Adam closed his eyes tight, listening to the gay tinkle of glass falling, followed by a few pots and pans. When he wedged one eye open to look at Hop Sing he found the man staring in dismay at the kitchen with his hands on his head. The smaller man lowered his arms slowly, shuffling to the kitchen door. He pushed it open only a few inches, peering in at the mess. Sensing the storm that was on the way Adam put a hand out to Billy and rested it kindly on his shoulder. "Billy, why don't you take Bucky and your brother, see if you can't round up those horses and head into town for the doctor." Adam suggested softly. Billy sent a sympathetic look toward Hop Sing then nodded readily and gestured for the other two men to go with him.

Adam did what he could to straighten out his shirt. He had a few buttons left and he buttoned them, pleased that only one came apart in his fingers. He even straightened the rope sling against his shoulders before he went to the back of the supply wagon. He pulled the tailgate down and grabbed a sack of grain with one hand, pulling it to the edge of the wagon bed before he bent his knees and flipped it onto his back.

Hop Sing stopped him before he could carry the bag inside, eyes aflame. "No supper for you, Adam Cartwright...til you...crean...my kitchen!"

Adam sighed and nodded. "Yes sir." He said, then carried the bag into the house.