CHAPTER FIVE

For a few days it seemed Adam might be wrong. When Christmas arrived, it was no different than any other for the Cartwrights, though a bit more subdued for Ben and Adam, who worried about the region of the country they had once called home. Hoss and Little Joe, however, had little experience with the world east of Texas, and to them the trouble with South Carolina might as well have been all the way in China.

On Christmas morning, the two youngest Cartwrights charged down the stairs like children to attack the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree in the great room. True to Hoss's prediction, Little Joe was over the moon with his new saddle. He dived on Hoss and Adam with exuberant hugs of thanks. Hoss accepted the embrace happily and swung his little brother around in a wide arc, but Adam stiffened and patted Joe awkwardly on the back.

Ben chuckled at Adam's discomfort, but he felt a sadness hanging over him. He and Adam were both Boston natives and felt the amputation of South Carolina as if something in their nation's soul had been ripped away. Ben worried about his country, but more pointedly, he worried about his younger brother. The Army hadn't needed Jacob Cartwright's surgical services during the Mexican War, but Jacob would be needed now that the war would be fought practically in his own backyard. Still, Ben did his best to enjoy Christmas, if for no other reason than to avoid worrying his two youngest sons and to prevent his eldest from stewing over the situation they were all powerless to change.

At midday, after the remaining gifts were opened—a new whittling knife for Hoss, Wilkie Collins' novel A Woman in White for Adam, and a gun belt for Ben—the Cartwrights persuaded Hop Sing to join them at the table for a huge dinner of roast turkey, dressing, potatoes, green beans, biscuits, gravy, and a late-season apple pie. Ben opened a bottle of wine he had bought over the summer in San Francisco, and the five men toasted their good fortune.

After feasting themselves halfway into oblivion, they all retired to the great room. Adam tucked into his new novel, and Hoss picked up a chunk of firewood and began whittling with his new knife, holding the wood over a bucket to catch the shavings. Stupefied by the large meal, Ben and Little Joe drowsed by the fire—Ben leaned back in his favorite burgundy-leather armchair with Little Joe opposite him in the old blue armchair with his feet propped up on the wide coffee table.

"Joseph, get your feet off the table," Ben murmured, his eyes half closed.

Joe complied and pulled his new saddle into his lap to look it over again. He'd wanted to run out to the barn to try it on Cochise but changed his mind when he opened the front door and stepped into knee-deep snow.

All in all, it was a lovely, cozy Christmas, and Benjamin Cartwright felt immeasurably blessed as his eyes drifted lazily around the room to each of his three sons. Impish, impetuous Little Joe, whose quick temper and penchant for mischief were always forgiven when he unleashed his brilliant smile. Tall, sturdy Hoss, who had the strength of five men but was the kindest, gentlest human being God ever created. And reserved, resourceful Adam, whose cool logic in emergencies had rescued himself and his brothers on more than one occasion. Ben carried a hole in his heart for each of the three wives he had lost, but he was grateful for and comforted by the sons they had left behind. Never feeling more blessed, he dozed off.

The snowfall kept the Cartwrights and their hands confined to the ranch until after the new year, and when they did make it back to Virginia City, they were able to resupply their groceries but not collect their mail. The snowfall had made the stage lines impassable, and deliveries were delayed several weeks. Even the Pony Express riders couldn't get through. Adam was disappointed because he'd wanted to post a letter to Josie, but fortunately, the telegraph wires were unaffected, so he sent his family in Washington, DC, a short message to with them a happy new year.

A week later, the Ponderosa foreman, Baxter, charged into the yard, his horse lathered up despite the cold.

"Mr. Cartwright! Mr. Cartwright!" he shouted as he leapt from his horse.

Alarmed, Ben and Adam sprang from their seats at Ben's desk where they'd been reviewing the ranch's financial ledgers. They raced out the front door, grabbing their revolvers off the sideboard as they passed.

"Baxter, what is it? What's wrong?" Ben demanded. He was relieved to see that his foreman was uninjured and unpursued. The man had torn into the yard like his hair was on fire.

"Three more states, Mr. Cartwright," Baxter gasped. "Three more states have seceded."

Despair swept over Adam, but he kept his face passive enough that Baxter noticed nothing. The ruse didn't work on Ben, though. Stoic as Adam could be, Ben could always tell when something was troubling him.

"Come inside," Ben said to Baxter. He grasped Adam's elbow and turned him toward the house. Once inside, the three men sat down in the great room, and Ben pressed Baxter for details.

"It's like I told you, Mr. Cartwright. Three more states seceded just in the last couple days. Mississippi, Florida, and Alabama. Word in town is the rest of the South ain't far behind."

Adam pictured a map in his head. "With Alabama, Florida, and South Carolina out, Georgia can't be far behind, Pa."

Ben grunted in agreement and thanked Baxter for the news. The foreman left to finish his day's work, leaving father and son sitting together in front of the fire, whose cheerful crackling now seemed out of place. They were silent, both men lost in thought. Ben had been seventeen years old when the nation celebrated its fiftieth birthday. He'd spent it in Boston, where he lived with his parents and a then-twelve-year-old Jacob. He'd taken his little brother to all the festivities that Fourth of July, much as Adam had taken Josie around Washington, DC, on an Independence Day twenty-two years later. There had been music, contests, dancing, and so much food! Ben and Jacob had stuffed themselves with pie and cookies until they were both green around the gills. Their mother's quilt had won a blue ribbon. Ben had always hoped to celebrate the nation's centennial with his own children and if he was lucky, a grandchild or two, and his heart sank as it now occurred to him that he may never have that chance.

Adam didn't know how to feel. He abhorred the thought of war for any reason, but he also couldn't shake the memory of the slave auction he'd witnessed one summer in Washington during his college years. War was evil, but slavery was also evil. Was it possible that one evil could eliminate another? If so, could a war be considered good? Was it ethical to kill one group of men to set another group free? The paradox made his head hurt, and he ran his hand across his mouth in that same gesture of puzzlement Hoss had recognized just before Christmas.

Ben and Adam were so deep in thought they didn't notice Hoss and Little Joe come in the front door. The two younger men hung their hats and coats on the pegs next to the door and placed their gun belts on the black sideboard. They saw their father and brother's solemn state and exchanged quizzical looks.

Little Joe decided to try to lighten the mood. "Whatsa matter with you two?" he chirped. "Somebody die?"

"Not yet, but they will."

Adam's cryptic reply puzzled Hoss and Little Joe further, and Hoss furrowed his bushy brow in concern.

"C'mon now," he said. "What's goin' on?"

Ben beckoned his younger sons to sit in the armchairs near the fire to warm up, and he filled them in on the news. Hoss stared blankly into the fire, and Little Joe dropped his head and rubbed his hands through his hair, making his brown curls stick out at wild angles.

Ever hopeful, Hoss tried to offer some comfort. "Maybe they've all got it out of their craws now. They've made their point. Maybe this'll all just fade away."

Adam was irritated by Hoss's optimism, but he realized he was just jealous of his younger brother. In all of Hoss's twenty-six years, his positive outlook on the world had never ceased to amaze Adam, who wished he could share it. But he knew Hoss was dead wrong on this count.

"No," Ben spoke Adam's thoughts aloud. "This isn't over. I fear it's going to get worse before it gets better."

Ben's prediction came true. By the first of February, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas had all voted to leave the union in what would become known as the Secession Winter of 1860-1861. The entire nation —North, South, and West—waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.

On February 9, 1861, commissioners from the seceded states met in Alabama and adopted a provisional constitution for the Confederate States of America and elected Jefferson Davis provisional president. It seemed at the time that the Union would take no action to stop these events. Abraham Lincoln wouldn't take office until March 4, and lame duck President James Buchanan appeared content to sit back and do nothing to turn the tide—though what exactly he could or should have done, no one could say.

On March 2, the Cartwrights got a surprise when they rode into the ever-expanding Virginia City and heard the news that Nevada was now its own territory, separate from Utah. Adam posited that Congress must be setting up to admit more free states. Though Virginia City's sentiments were divided, most of Nevada was strongly pro-Union, and despite the territory's small population, Adam thought it possible they would see statehood within the next few years. In any event, the three brothers enjoyed sending Josie their first telegram from the new Nevada Territory.

Adam rode into town again on March 6 to read the news of President Lincoln's inauguration two days earlier. The nation had been on tenterhooks before the inauguration as rumors of an assassination plot swirled. Fortunately, the inauguration proceeded peacefully, and Adam was intrigued by the new president's address in which he insisted he would use all powers at his disposal to reclaim federal property in the seceded states but assured the slave states remaining in the Union that he would not "interfere with the institution of slavery where it exists." He also seemed determined that the Union would not start a war, promising the South that "the government will not assail you, unless you first assail it."

Adam felt the new president had played both sides masterfully, but he still believed war was imminent. It was only a matter of time.

Ponderosa Ranch
Near Virginia City
Nevada Territory

March 7, 1861

Dear Josie,

This is my first letter written in the new Nevada Territory! Though I wish it were under happier circumstances, I find it quite exciting to be among the original citizens of a new territory. Several of our friends are already working on Pa to run for governor when we reach statehood, and I would not be surprised if he did.

All is well on the Ponderosa. Our mining operations have been growing exponentially, so I have been kept quite busy. Hoss and Little Joe send you their best. They are sorry they cannot come with me to your graduation in May, but Pa needs them to help prepare for a cattle drive to San Francisco in July. It will be our largest drive to date—nearly 10,000 head—so Pa needs all the help he can get. Though I expect he also wants to keep an eye on them. Those two have been trouble lately. They came home from a hunting trip last month with a Shoshone baby and nearly sparked an Indian war. We sorted it out, but Pa has been keeping them both on short reins.

I am glad to hear that Philadelphia has been peaceful and your studies have not been disrupted. I know you are disappointed that none of the hospitals would accept you and your classmates for internships, but you can be proud of the work you are doing in the poorhouses and asylums. Those people are truly "the least of these," and the care they receive from you may be the only act of compassion they ever experience. Never let anyone tell you this work is unimportant.

Has Uncle Jacob ordered the new sign for the clinic yet? I pray that Washington, DC, remains safe. Keep a weather eye on the situation, Josie. Study hard, and I will see you in two months for your graduation!

Love,

Adam