CHAPTER TWELVE
As Adam had both hoped and feared, all eyes turned to Josie as the cousins swept into the grand dining room. But overall, the dinner and reception were a smashing success. Captain Leonard Pike was a friendly and gracious man who invited Adam and Josie to visit the bridge the following day, which they happily accepted. Both cousins enjoyed meeting and speaking with some of their fellow passengers, most of whom were intrigued by the idea that a young lady had recently completed her medical degree. Many of the men were interested in hearing about the Ponderosa and Adam's life out West. For the most part, everyone avoided the topic of war, all of them too well bred to discuss politics over supper. Adam and Josie had an enjoyable evening and retired to their stateroom at the end of the night exhausted but exhilarated.
Their journey southward passed pleasantly, though it took nearly three weeks as Captain Pike gave the southern states' seaports a wide berth. They reached Colón, Panama, on June 7 and immediately boarded a train across the isthmus. After two days in Panama City, they had sent telegrams to both their families and were boarding the ship that would deliver them to San Francisco.
Josie loved the journey to San Francisco. While she'd relished traveling in style from Philadelphia to Colón, she'd been a bit on edge every time they passed a southern port. But now, on the western side of the continent, they were far away from the war, and she allowed herself to revel in her excitement over returning to the Ponderosa. Their stateroom on the ship to San Francisco, while not as opulent as that on the Morning Star, had a private balcony, too, and Josie and Adam spent many evenings on the balcony, taking in the cool sea air, playing chess or checkers, or discussing whatever they happened to be reading. Their stateroom was portside, so as they approached the California coast, they spent more time on the main starboard deck so Josie could see the sea lions along the shore. Her delighted laughter over the creatures' antics had changed little in the past eleven years, and Adam felt like he was twenty years old again and taking his cousin on her first big adventure. It pleased him that the little girl he had carried on his shoulders so many years ago hadn't disappeared.
Josie was stunned when she caught her first glimpse of San Francisco. In 1850, San Francisco had been a squat, dirty town, home only to miners and speculators. Now it was a real city with a busy port and bustling streets that extended for miles in every direction. She stared around in awe as she and Adam disembarked from their ship.
"It grew just like you said it would," she said.
Adam grinned. "It sure did. The Ponderosa sells most of its beef here in San Francisco. Between the miners and the businessmen, it's a hungry city, and I expect it will keep growing."
He led Josie away from the wharf and hailed a cab to take them to their hotel. They'd catch the stagecoach for Virginia City in two days, and Josie thought she would die of anticipation. They took lunch in the sitting room of their suite, and Adam suggested they go shopping to fill the afternoon.
"This is a good opportunity to pick up presents for Little Joe's birthday," he explained, "and I thought you might enjoy checking out the apothecary."
She beamed. She hoped the apothecary was a good one. It would be much faster to order medical supplies from San Francisco than from one of the cities back east.
After lunch they departed for the merchants' district, where Josie was pleased with the apothecary. Adam enjoyed listening as she chatted knowledgably with the druggist about disinfectants and poultices. Once they left the apothecary, Adam led her into a shoe store.
"Why are we here?" she asked.
"We need a pair of boots," Adam announced to both her and the shoemaker.
"Certainly, sir, what size?" the shoemaker asked.
Adam pointed to Josie's feet. "About that size." He gave Josie a sly smile.
Josie tossed her head back and laughed. "I sense a tradition forming."
"Now, Josephine, don't you go expecting a new pair of boots every time we come to San Francisco," Adam teased.
"What color, miss?" the shoemaker asked.
Josie did not hesitate. "Black."
A short time later, Josie and Adam exited the shoemaker's, Adam carrying Josie's new boots under one arm. She had opted not to wear them with her dress this time around. They stopped at the mercantile to select birthday gifts for Little Joe. Adam picked out a pair of mahogany saddlebags that would match his Christmas saddle perfectly, and Josie purchased a blue-checkered shirt. Adam thought this a bit odd, but he knew better than to ask questions where Josie and Little Joe were concerned.
They had the following day free, and Josie begged to see the infamous Barbary Coast, but Adam gave her an unequivocal no. Instead, they took afternoon tea with some old friends of Ben's, who were delighted to meet his beautiful niece from Washington, DC. After supper that evening, they retired early, knowing it would be their last truly restful night until they reached the Ponderosa five days later.
The stagecoach to Virginia City was much as Josie remembered: hot, dusty, bumpy, and disappointingly devoid of mountain lions. As they caught their first glimpse of the snow-capped Sierra Nevada, Josie giggled. She reminded Adam of the last time they'd made this journey and how Jacob had yelled at him and Hoss for telling her about the Donner Party. Adam laughed at the memory, causing the elderly couple also in the coach to look aghast at the cousins and wonder what was so funny about cannibalism.
They rolled into Virginia City in the late afternoon on July 3—a day after Little Joe's birthday, unfortunately, but still in time for Independence Day. Josie gazed in wonderment at the new little town, scarcely believing that so many businesses could have sprung up in just under two years.
Adam caught her staring. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it? The stores and businesses here meet all the Ponderosa's needs for groceries, supplies, and banking. We hardly ever go into Carson City anymore." He stuck his head out the window and looked ahead toward the stagecoach depot. "It looks like we have a welcoming party."
At the depot at the end of Main Street, Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe waited, shifting their feet and repeatedly checking Ben's pocket watch. Joe let out a loud whoop when he saw the stage approaching, and Ben had to grab hold of his youngest son's shoulders to keep him from tearing into the stagecoach's path. All three of them were grinning so widely that their cheeks ached.
Adam was first out of the coach, followed by the elderly gentleman. As the older man helped his wife from the coach, Adam greeted his family. He received warm handshakes from Pa and Hoss and an exuberant hug from Little Joe before turning back to the stagecoach and extending his hand to Josie, who was just emerging from the little door.
Ben's breath caught as he gazed upon his niece for the first time since she was a child. The skinny, knobby-kneed little girl who had raced around with Little Joe was gone. The figure who emerged from the stagecoach was a slender, comely young woman who so resembled his late wife Elizabeth that his heart ached, both for the loss of his first wife and for the years he had missed with his niece. He felt a strange sense of apprehension as he watched Adam help Josie down from the coach, but when Josie's feet hit the ground and she squealed "Uncle Ben!" as she threw her arms around his neck, the apprehension vanished, and Benjamin Cartwright felt nothing but joy.
Josie stepped back and gazed through happy tears at her uncle. Ben's face was more lined than it was when she last saw him, and his hair, once nearly as dark as hers and Adam's, was now completely gray and on its way to silver. But his velvety brown eyes and affectionate smile were unchanged.
"Oh, Josephine," Ben said, still holding onto her arms, "you certainly have grown up beautifully. We've missed you." His eyes shone.
"I've missed you, too."
"Hey there, little cousin," said a shy, deep voice from behind her.
Josie turned and faced Hoss, who was now three inches taller and about seventy pounds heavier than the last time she had seen him.
"Oh my goodness, Hoss!" Josie sprang into his arms and let him swing her around as they embraced, tears streaming down both their faces. When Hoss released her, she pounced at Little Joe, whom she had seen only two years previously but had missed every bit as much. The cousins hugged excitedly, both jumping up and down in a most undignified manner. When they stopped jumping, they stood there grinning at each other for several moments.
Shaking his head at the youngest two Cartwrights, Adam began loading their luggage into the buckboard. Hoss lent him a hand, and they had the luggage loaded in no time. Hoss lifted Josie onto the buckboard's seat as if she weighed no more than a feather. Adam climbed into the seat next to her and picked up the reins while Ben, Hoss, and Little Joe swung onto their horses. Adam clucked to the horses, and they rolled out of town toward home.