~~~~~

To say that Little Joe looked angry would be an understatement. The boy had glared at her without saying one word from the moment they'd left the house, and had continued to glare for the full half hour it taken them to reach one of the main roads leading into Virginia City. He'd obviously meant to look fierce, but his lower lip was sticking out petulantly and was ruining the effect. Charlotte figured he was angry that Adam was sending her to visit with Miss Dewitt, so she ignored him as best she could. She couldn't understand why he'd offered to ride into town with her and then frowned at her whenever she tried to speak. After awhile, she decided that no matter their age, men were just irrational creatures.
After glancing quickly at Joe, who pretended not to notice, she leaned forward to pat Sweetheart's neck. She was almost sure she could handle a more spirited mount now riding astride, but Sweetheart was a dear. All of the sudden Little Joe spoke.
"I don't see what's so great about you that Adam would want to spend so much time with you," he said, jutting his chin out in challenge. Charlotte blinked. She had no idea what to say to that. Luckily the temper seemed to melt out of Little Joe once he'd said the words. He really was a nice boy once he stopped trying to act grown up. She studied him carefully and wondered at what he'd said. She and Adam had been spending a lot of time together, maybe he felt neglected. She decided to try to make him laugh.
"Well, I don't see what's so special about Adam that I'd want to spend all my time with him," she said with a grin. He smiled, his bad mood apparently forgotten in a way that only adolescents can forget.
"What does he ever talk about besides work? Or books?" This was obviously ridiculous to Joe. Charlotte hid a smile.
"Some girls like a man who can talk about poetry. Perhaps that's why," she suggested, remembering how Adam despaired of Joe ever getting a full education. Joe appeared to think this over, then shook his head.
"Girls don't like that" he said knowingly. Charlotte blushed again and decided not to argue with him.
They were reaching the outskirts of the city now and she stopped to say goodbye to Little Joe; she had to ride in a different direction to reach the Dewitt ranch. Joe frowned.
"You won't tell Pa what I said, will you, Charlie?" His voice cracked ever so slightly as he asked.
"Nothing to tell." She assured him with a soft smile. He nodded, grateful, and said goodbye. They way he rode that horse, you'd think the hounds of Hell were riding after him. She shook her head and started east, towards the house where the fair Olivia waited.
As she rode, taking her time, she examined the scenery. She didn't think she could ever get tired of it here. When she'd first entered Nevada it had seemed one horrible, endless desert; she'd considered heading back. Now she was glad she'd continued on. She'd found friends in this beautiful country. She inhaled deeply, loving both the fresh cool air from the lake and the scent of pine. She could see why Mr. Cartwright defended his land so passionately. It didn't have the extreme temperatures like back east and it had all these gloriously tall trees. Looking at them made her feel quite insignificant, but it made her problems seem insignificant as well. She sighed, remembering at last her reason for being out in the woods today and urged Sweetheart to go faster. She should get this over with.
Taking the indirect route with Joe had taken longer than expected, so Charlotte arrived at the Dewitt place a little later than she should have. When an old man answered the door for her and gave a pointed look at an equally aged clock nearby she shrugged. It wasn't her date. Perhaps Olivia would send her away, she thought hopefully. The old man led her swiftly into some sort of parlor and left. Charlotte barely had time to get her bearings when Miss Olivia Dewitt stepped forward to welcome her with a rustle of skirts.
Miss Dewitt stopped short when she appeared to realize it wasn't Adam Cartwright standing there. It gave Charlotte ample opportunity to look at her. What she saw was depressing. Olivia Dewitt was stunning. She had long jet black hair, arranged in soft curls around her pale face and shoulders. Shoulders revealed by the delicate bodice of her emerald taffeta dress that exactly matched the green of her eyes. She would look perfect, standing next to Adam, all in black. Charlotte wondered waspishly how tightly she had tied her corset to get such a tiny waist.
"Who are you?" Olivia asked, eyes wide, and Charlotte recalled the reason for her visit.
"My name is Charlie. I work for the Cartwrights."
"Has something happened?" She did seem truly concerned. Damn. Charlie had hoped she would be cold and uncaring.
"No" she answered shortly, "Ma'am." And thought how odd to be addressing another woman that way. Olivia sighed and seemed to droop a little.
"Why are you here then?" She seated herself gracefully on the settee and gestured for Charlie to do the same.
"Adam couldn't make it, and sent me with a message for you. Do you want the message now?" Charlotte said rather abruptly. She was eager to end this interview.
"Oh." Olivia sounded disappointed.
"It's a very lovely message. There's a poem."
"I'm sure it is, but I really have no wish to hear it."
"I assure you, it's lovely." Charlotte said stiffly, offended.
"And did Master Adam put his heart into this message? For I have yet to see it in any of his actions." Olivia's voice was suddenly bitter. Charlotte was surprised into speaking.
"He is a little aristocratic, isn't he?"
Olivia snorted in a very indelicate way, that she probably wouldn't have done had Adam been around.
"A little?" Her voice was bitter. Charlotte decided to continue cautiously.
"It speaks of your beauty, quite eloquently."
"Psh. I am sick to death of hearing of that." Olivia got up and went over to a small mirror hanging on the wall. "Do you not think I am lovely?" She asked archly, and tilted her head back to expose her neck. Charlotte had done that particular flirtatious move plenty of times, though never quite so spectacularly. Charlotte nearly hated her.
"You are perfect." She sighed the word.
"Looking, I have been told that often enough. In fact, it's all I hear." Olivia sighed as well.
"Is it natural?" Charlotte found herself asking.
"I was born this way." Olivia's eyes flashed fire at her veiled insult.
"Then you're proud. Too proud to see who might..." she paused, "who might truly love you."
"Who? Adam Cartwright?" Olivia laughed and sat back down. "He's a good friend, and a good looking man, I admit, but...he does not talk to me."
"Well, have you ever talked to him without posing and preening?" Charlotte asked sharply. Olivia frowned prettily.
"I didn't think he was interested in my conversation." Her eyes dared Charlotte to deny that.
Charlotte felt an unexpected burst of sympathy. She had often wondered if Adam would have talked to her if she'd first met him in skirts. She suppressed the feeling. That's not what she was here for. She got up and sat next to her rival.
"A hard-hearted woman indeed to reject a man for appreciating what it is only natural for him to appreciate, even as she dresses for him to look." Charlotte gestured to the dress, "Especially such a worthy man as Adam Cartwright." She added this softly.
"Is he so worthy man?" Olivia challenged, regarding Charlotte intently, her green eyes opened wide.
"He is the worthiest." She answered immediately. "Educated, intelligent, clever, yet caring enough to help raise his brothers." She was nearly whispering the words, they were so hard to say, and Olivia had to lean in to hear, "and he cares for you."
"He has a strange way of expressing his love." Olivia seemed a little breathless. "How would express yourself, if you were in love?" She glanced down to the floor and then back up into Charlotte's face.
"If I was in love?" Charlotte stood up and paced back and forth, thinking about this unexpected question. "If I was in love, I would want to shout the name of my beloved from the hills." She looked over to Olivia and stumbled. "If I were Adam, I would climb the Sierras and cry out, 'Olivia!' into the air so that all the world might hear me." Charlotte was suddenly miserable. Olivia seemed unaware of the rather foolish smile on her face.
"What do you do for the Cartwrights?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Me? I'm just a hand out on the Ponderosa. Why?"
"You are quite well spoken for someone of your age and position." Olivia answered in a laughing voice. She rose slowly to stand next to her. "I wish you'd convince Adam I don't regard him in that way. Perhaps," she placed a slim hand on Charlotte's arm, "perhaps you could come again though, to tell me how he takes this."
Charlotte looked down at the hand on her arm and then back up to the emerald eyes that were regarding her anxiously...and flirtatiously. She had a sudden horrible suspicion.
"Oh, I doubt Adam will send me again if you say will not love him." She spat out the last few words.
"Tell him he is all a woman could want, but a girl cannot make herself love someone."
Charlotte pulled her arm away.
"Maybe you're being too rash. Maybe you will grow to love him in time?"
"Perhaps." Olivia's tone was doubtful. "You will come again?" she asked hopefully, batting her eyelashes. Charlotte wanted to say no, but she truly didn't know how Adam would react to this news. She settled for a manly grunt and headed out of the room. She turned back in the doorway.
"How could you hurt him in this way?" She asked coldly before stalking out the door.

~~~~~

It was sunset by the time Adam and Hoss returned from Carson City. Hoss had gone straight inside to eat but Adam had immediately headed into the bath house. Charlotte, who was unsure of quite how to break the sad news to Adam, had found herself dithering like an idiot outside the bath house door. She'd nearly decided to put off the conversation as long as possible, discretion being the better part of valor, when he called out.
"Who's out there?" His voice was muffled by the door, but she understood.
"Just me, Adam. Charlie."
"Charlie, there don't seem to be any clean towels in here. Could you get Hop Sing to bring me some?"
"Oh, uh, sure." Grateful for anything that might delay their talk, she ran off immediately and returned a few minutes later. "Ummm, Adam? He was busy and sent me with some instead."
"Whatever," Adam seemed a little impatient. Charlotte bit her lip as she hesitated.
"I'll just leave them by the door then."
"What?" There was a splash from inside. "I can't hear you. Bring them in here."
Charlotte nearly fainted for the first time in her life at the idea. This was very different from her earlier, momentary glimpse of him.
"You want me to go in there?" She called out breathlessly.
"Just get in here will you?" He commanded irritably. "I'm turning into a raisin."
She took three or four deep breaths and opened the door. At first steam blocked her vision. Adam apparently liked very hot baths, which reassured her. Cautiously, she took a few steps forward into the fog and promptly collided with Adam. He was warm and wet and very, very solid. Charlotte was so surprised she jumped backwards into a puddle of water, slipped, and fell on her backside.
"Oh, there you are." Adam remarked calmly, apparently oblivious to her foolishness, as blinded by the steam as she had been. She stood up and thrust the towels out in front of her, ignoring her sore, and now wet, bottom.
"Here." She said shortly and they were taken from her grasp. "I'm going now." She needed air.
"Hey, leave the door open a little, will you?" Adam's voice called out to her through the fog. "So we can talk while I get dressed." These last four words were enough to send Charlotte scooting out of the room with a scarlet-hued face. "So, did you have fun in town today?"
She couldn't believe he was holding a conversation with her now.
"It was fine," she answered in a strangled voice. "I met Joe at the International House and he introduced me to some of his friends. They were nice."
"Which friends?"
"Umm, Mitch Devlin was nice. We had a drink at the Silver Dollar and we had a long talk about all sorts of things. He is the most well-spoken of Little Joe's friends, I think. He's funny too." She was aware she was babbling but she couldn't seem to control herself. Adam was getting dressed, which meant...
"Mitch Devlin?" Adam's voice was sharp. There was a rustling sound. Then he spoke again. "And what else did you and little Mitchy do?"
"Oh, after the beers..."Charlotte suppressed a gag as she remembered the taste of those, she much preferred brandy, "we went to the outside of town and watched a horse race. Mitch and I bet on a stallion named Golden Nugget and won five dollars each. I've never bet before. It was exhilarating."
"Well, wasn't that fun for you and Mitch?" he sneered as he opened the door. She was going to ask what was wrong, but got sidetracked by his appearance. He was still damp and his half-buttoned shirt was clinging to his body. Little streams of water were running down his neck from his hair and Charlotte watched each and every one continue lazily on down over his chest and disappear under the black cloth of his shirt. "Did you and little Mitch make any more plans?" The question was casual enough, and Charlotte, distracted, didn't take any notice of the odd light in his eyes. She shook her head, since at the moment she couldn't seem to form any words. "So," Adam began in a completely different tone, "how did your meeting with Olivia go?"
The question brought Charlotte back to earth with a thud.
"Oh Adam," she said softly, sadly. He froze. "Maybe she just didn't like the messenger, but," she paused, "she said that she felt you didn't really love her and that she was very sorry,. But she couldn't love you." Never mind that all of this was true, it still had to hurt to hear it. "I tried to persuade her, but she said..."
"That's enough." Adam stopped her. All the warmth in his face had disappeared. "Was it a ploy, do you think? One of those games women play."
Any other time this would have infuriated her but she ignored it for the time being. She just shook her head and tentatively rested her hand on his arm.
"As I said, Adam. Maybe she was displeased that I wasn't you. She did mention how she felt you weren't truly interested in her."
"And why did she feel that?" He asked the question abruptly, staring off into nothing.
"She said...she said you never talked with her. Perhaps she felt something was lacking from your relationship and she only wished to get your attention." Charlotte didn't think so, but it seemed to soothe him. "Then I'll just pack my things to go. You won't mind if I leave tomorrow?" She peeped up at him, hoping he wouldn't send her away over this. Adam's arm tensed under her hand.
"You can't leave," he said, commanding as usual, but this time she didn't mind.
"Then I won't."
He looked down at her hand and then into her eyes. One hand came up to rest on hers.
"You're a good man, Charlie." He said and Charlotte's heart sank. She felt a strong desire to scream.
"Adam?" Mr. Cartwright called from the porch. He looked at the two of them curiously, and, Charlotte imagined, a touch of suspicion. "Are you coming in to dinner, Son?"
"I'm coming, Pa." Adam answered a calm voice and moved his gaze to her. "We'll talk more later?" he asked, then turned and walked proudly into the house. Charlotte watched him go with a sigh. Now, that was walking like man.

~~~~~

Charlotte lay in bed later that night, unable to sleep. It could have been because the light from the full moon was streaming in through her window making the room nearly as bright as it was in the day time, but it wasn't. She was feeling guilty. Actually, she was feeling guilty because she didn't feel more guilty. She sigh irritably and rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling.
Adam was probably heartbroken and she was happy! Oh, she was sad that he was in pain, but what kept running through her heart was delight that he wouldn't be with the fair Olivia. It was a cruel thought and she was supposed to be a better person than this, but the thought of Adam evens standing next to Olivia Dewitt made Charlotte want to scratch her eyes out, and then his as well!
She winced at her bloodlust. After all, it wasn't Adam's fault that men saw only pretty faces and figures. Or that they clearly couldn't see when artifice was involved. She sniffed. As if anybody's waist was that tiny naturally. She snorted. Although, the more she thought about the whole thing, the more she wanted to blame him. Men were only interested in appearances, the...the bastards! (She was rather proud of her new vocabulary. Swearing could be so satisfying.) Women weren't like that. She had never thought of a man they way they thought of women, to make her mouth hang open and her skin get heated.
Unexpectedly, she remembered how Adam had looked earlier after his bath and how she had felt, looking at him. Her heart had started racing and she'd felt so, well, hot and slightly feverish. Kind of like when she'd drank the brandy, only without that horrible headache in the morning. The same strange excitement she'd felt when she'd doubled up with him the day they'd brought her to the Ponderosa. She'd sat there so stiffly he must have thought she couldn't ride, but in truth she hadn't wanted to touch him. It had felt so disturbing. Charlotte kicked off her blankets, suddenly much too warm. She'd had her suitors, but she'd never felt that before. How wonderful, she thought irrationally, and sighed.
Then she sat straight up in bed. How dare he think those things about that woman! It was so unfair when she could only think of him. She punched her pillow a few times then flung herself back down onto the bed to try, once again, to go to sleep. This got her nowhere. So after awhile she decided she was just going to have to accept things as they were, the way she'd realized they were when Olivia had asked her about love earlier. Since she had no hills to shout from, she tried whispering into her pillow.
"Adam Cartwright," she said softly into the goose down, then said it again before a sound from down stairs caught her attention.
She got up and went to her door. She heard it again, the light strumming of a guitar. It had to be Adam, she'd seen the instrument in his room. She threw a blanket over her shoulders to hide her unbound state and slipped quietly out her door and stepped quietly over the spot in the hallway that Joseph had warned her about, the one that squeaked whenever he was sneaking out.
She paused at the top of the stairs when Adam started to sing. It was a song from Shakespeare, not a sad one, though he was singing it slowly and mournfully, making it a cross between a lament and a prayer.
"O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming. Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journey's end in lover's meeting." His voice was beautiful; deep and clear like the Scots whiskey she had compared his eyes to when she'd first met him. She crept quietly down the stairs and peered around for him in the darkness. "Then come and kiss me, sweet-and-twenty, Youth's a stuff, will not endure," he finished and the last chords echoed through the living room.
"Adam?" she asked uncertainly, worried that he hadn't even made a fire for light.
"Yes, Charlie?" he responded politely from the shadows.
"Are you heartbroken?" she blurted out and cursed herself, but she needed to know. Maybe she could fix the situation. She didn't want to, but she could try. He sighed and she heard him move around.
"No, I'm not heartbroken, Boy."
"Oh," was all she said for a few minutes, then, "Why are you sitting down here in the dark?"
There was a sudden spark in the darkness as Adam struck flint to light the oil lamp. It flared up and seemed unnaturally bright. Once her eyes adjusted, Charlotte saw him sitting calmly on the settee, with his guitar on his lap and his feet on the low table, right next to a bottle of brandy.
"Why are women so foolish, Charlie?" He asked, staring into the cold fireplace. He put his guitar aside.
"Excuse me?" She could not have heard him right.
"Why are women so foolish? You heard me." He squinted at her in the dim light.
"I hadn't noticed them being foolish, Adam." Charlotte managed to control her temper at this insult, though she was thinking women had never been as big of fools as men. That is, until she remembered her confessions into her pillow a few moments ago. "Well, no more so than men at least."
"Men are logical." Adam argued, sitting up to see her better. "We aren't fickle with our emotions."
"No men are not." She sat down in the chair opposite him. "Men admire anything with a pretty face and call it love. That is hardly fickle."
"Exactly," he agreed, then stopped. "Wait, what did you say?"
"Did you ever talk to Olivia as you talk to me?" Charlotte asked, feeling that in this at least her rival had a legitimate complaint. "Or did you just admire her hair or daydream about the figure under the dress?" She was longing to knock some sense into his thick head.
"What's wrong with admiring a woman?" He wanted to shout, she could tell by the way he tensed up. At the same time, she got the feeling that he was enjoying their debate; his eyes had lost the dullness she's thought she'd seen when she'd first come downstairs.
"Nothing, if you admire all of her." She snapped back. He shook his head.
"That isn't what this is about. This is about a woman's heart. Rejecting one day what she welcomed the day before. They are incapable of steadfast devotion."
Oh, he was so sure of himself that now she to forcibly remind herself that it would get her nowhere to slap him. She settled for a furious whisper.
"A woman is capable of faithfulness."
"You have proof of this?" he questioned unbelievingly.
"Proof?" Her voice cracked. That he should question her devotion, even unknowing, hurt. "My father had a daughter that loved a man, but couldn't tell him. Not wouldn't, as you are probably thinking, she had almost no pride where this man was concerned, but couldn't. He would never have accepted her as she was. So she loved him, and only him, in silence." She was barely speaking in a whisper as she finished.
"I've respected your wishes, and never asked about your family, Charlie, but tell me, please, what happened to her?" His question was just as quiet. He seemed subdued, thinking over what she had said.
"I'm all that's left of my family." She avoided answering directly. Adam frowned to himself.
"Then you are saying I am too proud for any woman to love me?"
"Oh no." She assured him immediately, then continued on more gently. "I am saying that perhaps you are too proud to love them in return. You concentrate too much on..."she paused to search for the right words, "on walking like a man, and not enough on the object of your affections, and how they might feel. You don't even allow too much emotion to show with Little Joe." This was not exactly the same thing, but Charlotte felt it was important. Adam was silent for a long time. When he spoke up, he sounded curious.
"Why I let you talk to me this way I'll never know." He shook his head. "Maybe you're right. Maybe. You seem to be right most of the time, and you do seem to know what you're talking about today." Suddenly, he smiled. "Yes, you seem to know a lot all of the sudden. Has somebody caught your eye, young Charlie?"
Charlotte tried smiling back, but her smile was wobbly.
"Perhaps," she answered. He glanced at her sharply.
"What is she like? What color is her hair?"
"Oh, about the color of yours," she whispered, surprised at the questions and his intent expression.
"How old is she?"
"About your age." She responded without thinking. He laughed and turned it into a cough.
"Just like Joe, aren't you?" The tension seemed to leave him. He got up and ruffled her hair. She closed her eyes. "Coming up to bed?"
Her eyes shot open. Then she realized again what an idiot she was. She cleared her throat.
"Of course." She stood up, but he didn't move as she'd expected him to. She was standing in front of him with barely an inch between them.
"Good night." Adam was so close she could hear the words rumbling in his chest. He was staring down into her eyes, and, perhaps it was the darkness or her wishful thinking, but she thought she saw a light in them.
Charlotte had been kissed before, by her eager beaux, and knew essentially how to indicate to a man that she wished his embrace. Acting only on her desires, she tilted her face up and opened her mouth, ever so slightly. Kiss me, Adam, she thought, and wondered if he could read this in her eyes. After an endlessly long, tense moment, his head lowered towards hers fractionally. His lips were barely an inch from hers. Then, from upstairs came the sound of Hoss snoring. Adam moved away from her abruptly.
"You should get upstairs now, Boy." He said harshly and stepped back. Charlotte didn't stop to think. She ran up the stairs to her room like she was running for her life.

~~~~~

Adam had been absent from the breakfast table that morning. But even without his presence it hadn't been a peaceful meal. Charlotte couldn't help but wonder if the tension that had developed between her and Adam had somehow become tangible and had remained downstairs all night only to stick in the throats of everyone in the household. Even Hoss had been unable to eat much, though to tell the truth, what Hoss had managed to get down would have fed Charlotte for a day and a half.
As no one had been inclined to linger at the table, she and Joe and Hoss had set out earlier than expected for Virginia City. The trip was supposed to be a day off for them. A reward, as they had finished the spring repairs a little early this year, partially due to Charlie's help. She had been proud of her achievement, until last night, when she had been reminded of her lie. Now, whatever emotions she was feeling, pride wasn't really one of them. She wasn't sure if she could explain it to Adam, or even if there was anything to explain. How could she have been so stupid? She had lain in bed all night, mentally kicking herself.
Now, as she wandered alone aimlessly up and down the main street of town, she was thinking it was perhaps time she moved on. She had no idea where she would go, but she had some wages coming, and probably a reference as well. The only problem was, she didn't want to leave the Ponderosa.
Charlotte suddenly realized she was standing in front of the general store where she had taken the bread that had led to her first meeting...the Cartwrights. She peered in through the window. The shopkeeper was occupied and wasn't likely to make a scene if he saw her, so she looked at the window display. Some jars of calves' foot jelly were on sale, and some candy as well, and a large floral print, ready- made dress. The design was plain and the material cheap, and she thought distantly that Olivia must have sent away for her fine clothes, but she stared at the dress hungrily.
She did love the freedom that wearing pants gave her. She liked being able to stretch her legs when she walked , and not having to worry about dirt or mud. But sometimes she longed for the feel of her old skirts swishing around her legs, several petticoats, silk stockings, lace, and a tight bodice that she knew now would cause men to spend their nights without sleep and their days dreaming. She grinned to herself at the thought. Although not her corset; frankly she was never putting that monstrosity on again. Charlotte sighed. She was comfortable in her men's gear, and she would never give it up entirely, but she did feel so beautiful in a dress. She pictured herself in a blue ball gown, dancing with Adam wearing his usual black, fair to contrast with his darkness, his hand on the small of her back.
"Why, Charlie, I thought it was you standing here!" Olivia exclaimed, bringing Charlotte out of the clouds. She tried frowning at the woman, but she seemed to take it as an invitation and just came closer. "If I'd known you'd be in town today, I would have worn my best dress." She smiled.
"You look fine." Charlotte answered irritably before she realized that that's just what Olivia had wanted to hear. The girl blushed pink.
"Do you really think so, Charlie?" she asked softly, peering at her through her eyelashes.
"I thought you hated people talking about your looks?" Charlotte said stiffly, and turned her gaze ruthlessly back to the window, hoping Olivia would take the hint.
"And you don't. It's why I like you, you see." Olivia confessed with a mischievous grin. Charlotte stared at her in astonishment.
"Miss Olivia," she hesitated, then continued, "Olivia, if I ever gave you any hint that I felt that way toward you..." She couldn't finish when Olivia hung her head and seemed to droop a little.
"Oh, why do I have to like you so much, when you obviously can't stand the sight of me?" she whispered forlornly, all traces of the proud girl gone. Charlotte sighed, sharing her sentiment. Love was a cruel joke to everyone it seemed.
"I am sorry for you." She reached out and tentatively patted the other woman on the shoulder. Olivia lifted her head immediately.
"That's like love, isn't it?" she asked hopefully.
"No." Charlotte shook her head. "It's a sad truth that very often we pity our enemies."
Olivia flinched then hung her head and took a minute to compose herself. Then she smiled a brilliant smile that Charlotte did not for one second believe was real.
"I am wise enough to know that I am wasting my time." She raised her chin and Charlotte envied her once more. She hadn't handled her rejection last night nearly so well. "I will leave you now." The woman stuck out her hand and she shook it respectfully.
"And you have nothing to say to Adam?" Charlotte had to ask.
"No." Olivia said firmly. She half-turned away, then turned back. "And may we be friends?"
"Of course," Charlotte agreed, though she doubted it would be possible, especially if she left. Then, before she could move, Olivia leaned over to press a quick kiss to her cheek.
"Good day, Charlie," she whispered and walked away.
Charlotte stood there for a moment, staring after her and cursing her disguise. What had been a great idea when she was alone and frightened now only caused people pain. With a long drawn out sigh, she turned around and found herself facing a very furious looking Little Joe.

~~~~~

The boy looked hopping mad, and Charlotte was in no mood for his uncertain temper. She reflected bitterly that a night without sleep because of a heart that felt like it was breaking and then a morning spent smashing another person's hopes tended to make a person lose their patience a little more readily than they would have ordinarily.
"Yes, Joe?" she snapped.
"What kind of friend are you? To take Adam's girl?" He puffed his chest out and she wondered dark humor if he was attempting to look bigger.
"Adam's girl? Weren't you trying to 'take' her before?" Charlotte shook her head at male foolishness. As if you "took" a woman. You went where she wanted to go. Her question seemed to stump Little Joe. For a moment the anger left his face to be replaced with puzzlement.
"That's different!" He declared at last, having apparently come to some conclusion that allowed him to continue.
"I don't see how." She rested her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground. It was a very feminine pose but she was too mad to notice. This didn't stop Little Joe for a second.
"You hurt him! That's why he was gone today. And he was supposed to come with me."
Charlotte knew he was guessing, but it was too close to the truth for her like hearing it.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Boy." It was the wrong thing to say, she knew it the minute the martial light entered his green eyes.
"I'm not a boy!" His male adolescent pride was outraged, never mind that his brothers called him that all the time. He put up his fists. Charlotte blinked, startled and not quite believing this development.
"You want to fight me?" She squeaked in alarm and took a step back. "Um, can't we settle this like men?"
"This is how you settle things like men." He answered as if it were obvious and just like that, took a swing at her. She just managed to duck in time. Oh, Damn, but he was right, she thought frantically, and looked around them at the crowd that was gathering to watch. She as going to have to fight back, that was what men did after all, or they were branded cowards. Charlotte hadn't been in a fight since she was ten and Harry had broken her favorite doll. At ten, she'd been taller than him and had creamed him. Little Joe however, was not ten, and he looked like he knew what he was doing. She hoped it wouldn't hurt too badly.
Charlotte watched carefully as he approached. His left fist came at her again and once again she ducked. On the ground she squeezed her eyes shut, said a tiny prayer, and threw herself at his knees. Joe landed with a grunt which she echoed a moment later when she landed on him. After a stunned moment, where they both stared at each other and tried to catch their breath, she made the first move, scrambling to get off him, but the boy recovered quickly and pulled her back down. Charlotte quickly changed her goal from surviving this fight to surviving and keeping Joe's hands away from her chest and being, literally, exposed.
They'd been scuffling together in the dirt for some time when Charlotte had the familiar sensation of being lifted in the air.
"Aw, Hoss." Joe complained, hanging from Hoss' other hand. He was covered in brown dust and had a bruise forming underneath his right eye, and he actually looked upset that the fight had ended.
"Ain't neither of you got enough sense to know not to get into a fight in the middle of the street?" he scolded fiercely.
"He started it." Charlotte heard herself say resentfully, as if she was ten years old again.
"Just so it's ended." Hoss ignored her and began dragging the two of them toward the livery stable, to the crowd's amusement. Several called out suggestions for what Mr. Cartwright should do to them later. "Just wait 'till Pa finds out what you done now." Hoss was genuinely upset and Charlotte couldn't understand why. She was the one with the bruised knuckles and a sore stomach from where Joseph had kneed her. Suddenly she felt like giggling. It was too absurd. Poor Joe if he ever found out he'd hit a girl.
"You've got a pretty good right, Charlie." Joe congratulated her stiffly as he saddled Cochise.
"You're not so bad yourself," she returned the compliment that was obviously required. It seemed to complete some sort of male ritual and, once said, all was forgiven and back to normal. She shared a grin with Joe. Men were idiots, but they had a lot of fun.
She amended this thought a while later at the persistent throbbing of her sore hand. Perhaps fun was not the word.
"Charlie?" Joe asked on the way back. For some reason he sounded very young.
"Yes?" she asked cautiously, surreptitiously cradling her hand.
"You would never hurt Adam, would you?"
"I would never hurt Adam on purpose, Joe," she swore to him. He didn't seem to notice her evasion.
"Good. My older brother might be a cold-blooded Yankee fool sometimes, but I wouldn't like to see him hurt." Just like that the child was gone again. She looked to Hoss for answers.
Hoss' face looked cold and grim. She suddenly realized how difficult and yet how simple it would be to turn Hoss from his normal gentle self into an enraged giant. All she had to do was to hurt one of his family.
"I'm not interested in Olivia," she asserted firmly. Hoss' grin returned.
"So long as we're clear, Charlie."
"Do you two really feel Adam needs you protection?" She was curious. They both nodded.
"That's what family's for." Little Joe explained, echoing his father she was sure.
"And if you have no family?" she asked quietly, but they heard her.
"I reckon that's what friends is for," Hoss said, and Joe nodded with a surprisingly shy smile. Charlotte pushed down the urge to cry and gave them each a very manly nod in return. Were all men like this? Or just the Cartwrights?

~~~~~

Hop Sing was cleaning the living room when she walked in some time later. He took one look at her and started ranting in a mixture of Chinese and English. In under two minutes and over her objections he had her sitting at the table with her sore hand soaking in a bowl of warm water and had placed a cup of hot tea in her hand. He sat down opposite her and began to gently wash the dirt from her face.
"Little Joe do this to you?" he asked after a moment. She blinked.
"How did you know?" she asked, thinking foolishly of magic and the vague whisperings she'd heard back East about the mysteries of the Orient.
"Joseph my boy." Hop Sing said proudly. "More than Hoss or Mistah Adam. I know them all. Joe best." His face as he thought of "his boy" was so full of tenderness that Charlotte was reminded of her father and wanted to cry again.
"Lucky boy, to have two fathers," she commented in a choked voice. Hop Sing laughed.
"He no think so."
Charlotte laughed too, until he found a tiny cut on her cheek that stung a little. She winced.
"You gonna say what this about?" His question was calm, patient.
"Oh, Joe thought I was trying to take Olivia Dewitt from Adam." She tried a shrug and a smile to show the humor of the situation. Hop Sing laughed again.
"You mean, Joe still don't know you not a boy."
Charlotte leapt out of her seat and his hand came down on her arm to restrain her so fast that she never even saw him move. One moment he was washing her, the next his hand was holding her down. She pulled but the little man had muscles like iron.
"Ah, no one know. You never tell?"
Charlotte sank back into her chair reluctantly. Then she shook her head.
"Not even Mistah Adam?" His look was wise and she looked away. "He might like know, I think."
"He'll hate me," she said miserably. "Look how hard he is on Little Joe for the smallest fib, and this is hardly a lie about not doing your chores," she added in a huge understatement.
"Mistah Adam no raise you like Joe. Little Joe have three fathers." This was probably meant as a joke, but she didn't feel much like laughing.
"How did you know?" Charlotte took a claming breath and avoided the subject of Adam.
"Bah, I no blind like Cartlights. No boy ever look like you. Clothes, walk, no make man." He resumed wiping the dust from her face.
"Then why didn't you tell them? I thought you hated me." She confessed her fears shyly.
"Hop Sing no like lie, but know you must have reason." He refilled her cup as he waited and poured a cup for himself.
"After what I'd seen," she paused and took a comforting sip of hot tea, "when I was alone, I knew this would be the safest way for me to travel, in disguise. Until I figured out what to do."
"You people never look beyond surface," Hop Sing commented, with the slightest touch of bitterness,
"Lucky for me," she joked lamely. There were several moments of silence as they sipped their tea.
"You tell them now," he ordered suddenly, and she sputtered, getting tea all over her shirt.
"I can't. I'll just leave tomorrow, or the next day..."
He began cursing at her in Chinese. At least, she assumed it was cursing. It certainly didn't sound complimentary.
"You go now. O I tell." He meant it. She swallowed dryly and bit her lip. "Charlie MacTeague not brave?" he asked, sounding disappointed. Instantly, Charlotte raised her chin.
"No MacTeague is a coward, we which just know which battles to fight."
"Good. Mistah Adam home now. Fight this one." He chuckled as he let her go and walked off in the direction of the kitchen. Charlotte listened carefully and sure enough, she could hear a rider approaching outside.
She knocked over her chair when she stood up, and tripped twice on shaky feet as she made her way to the front door. She stepped into the shade of the porch to watch Adam get off Sport and walk slowly towards her. Then she raised her chin and walked out to meet him halfway.

~~~~~

"Hello Adam." her voice cracked and she cleared her throat roughly. Twice.
"Charlie." Adam was staring down at her, his expression revealing nothing. She knew now he did this whenever he was confused or vulnerable. Her stomach twisted itself in a knot.
"I...that is, I mean...I've got something I have to...I need to tell you." She stuttered over the words and glanced up once anxiously into his brown eyes before settling her gaze on his boots. "A confession..."she began, only to stop abruptly when the perfect Olivia Dewitt crashed into her at full speed.
"Oh my darling! Are you all right?" Olivia sighed into Charlotte's neck and ran her hands quickly over her torso, apparently checking for wounds.
"Darling?" Adam stared at them in shock.
"Adam! I have no idea what this crazy woman is doing, but I have nothing to do with it!" Charlotte pleaded, all the while trying to remove Olivia's arms from about her middle. For a girl who looked so delicate, she was surprisingly strong.
Adam's face looked harder than the granite of the Sierras around them.
"Is this your 'confession'?" he asked icily.
"Adam, you don't understand. I don't even understand! Olivia what is wrong with you?"
"Oh, I understand. I understand only too well. take her then, Boy, and never cross my path again."
Charlotte finally managed to free herself from Olivia's grasp and threw herself at Adam, locking her arms around his chest.
"I won't go. You can't make me!" She vowed fervently, unable to imagine herself gone from this place even though she had suggested leaving only minutes before herself. It didn't even occur to her to try to walk away proudly. Adam's hand came to rest briefly on her back. She could feel it even through her bindings. They stood like that for two full heartbeats. Then he grabbed her arms and shoved her at Olivia.
Olivia tried to embrace her again.
"Oh, be gone, Olivia!" She ordered impatiently, staring at Adam.
"Why do you always push me away? You welcomed my attentions not too long?" Olivia seemed bewildered, though no more than Charlotte was at this moment.
"Are you faithful to no one?" Adam asked scornfully and turned his back on them. Charlotte was nearly in tears.
"At it again, Charlie?" Little Joe burst onto the scene furiously from somewhere. She was too distracted to really notice where he came from. She did see his swollen black eye right away; it completely overshadowed the tiny bruise she had given him.
"What's wrong with your face, Boy? Who did this to you?" Adam held Joe still to look at his face in concern. He touched the puffy skin tenderly.
"A gift from your friend over there, Adam." Joe glanced at Charlotte.
"Charlie did that to your eye?" Adam seemed unable to believe this. He moved his gaze from his brother to regard her with amazement. "When?"
"It's no more than you deserved, Little Joe Cartwright, attacking Charlie twice like that." Olivia defended her.
"I barely touched him, Adam. I certainly didn't punch him in the eye, though now I wish I had," she added, with a furious look at Joe.
"What is going on here?" Mr. Cartwright demanded loudly from the porch, where he stood next to Hoss and Hop Sing. They were all watching this little drama in astonishment.
"Just now, I saw Charlie and Olivia kissing down the road a ways. So I went up and hit him." Little Joe explained as if this was the most logical solution. "You sure didn't punch like that last time, Charlie." This seemed to be a side note, after a brief moment of contemplation, he returned to the important details. "After he swore to me, Adam, that he wouldn't go near her, I had to."
"A lie!" Charlotte huffed angrily. "I don't know what you two are plotting, but I was in the house with Hop Sing just now. You believe me? Don't you, Adam?"
Adam was silent so long she thought he wasn't going to speak, but when he did he only commented quietly that he didn't believe she had beaten up Little Joe.
"Then who gave me this eye?" Joe challenged with one wide angry eye. Charlotte looked around her at the unsupportive and confused faces and ran to the porch and Hop Sing.
"Tell them, Hop Sing, I was with you."
The little cook stared at her and then looked beyond her, he looked startled. She looked to Mr. Cartwright, who had a similar expression on his face. What? she thought irritably and turned around. Her mouth dropped open.
Olivia Dewitt was in the arms of a tall blonde man and, Charlotte thought absently, looked to be enjoying herself. The Cartwrights all appeared to be about as shocked as she felt. Had everyone gone crazy? She blinked after suddenly realizing that she hadn't done so for some time.
The kiss ended, and the man turned a very satisfied gaze on the watching group. His eyes were a clear, twinkling blue. Then he spotted Little Joe and some of his happy air seemed to leave him, but he looked Adam and up and down quickly and apparently decided to address him.
"I wonder if you could help me, Sir? I'm beginning to think there's something in the air in this country that makes the people crazy. That or I am going mad." He grinned as he said it, obviously not that concerned with the state of his sanity. "I arrived in your Virginia City a few hours ago and immediately two men said that they knew me and offered to take me back here. I said no, naturally, but as I had heard of the great Ponderosa and wanted to see what they spoke of. So I rode out here on my own. Then the moment I arrived here, this lovely woman," he stopped to smile at Olivia. Charlotte gasped. "This woman rides up at the moment I get here, asks me if I'm well, tells me she heard I had a fight with Little Joe, who now that I think about it must be this little fellow, and kisses me. Though to tell the truth I didn't mind that part at all." He shared a quick male grin with Little Joe before each apparently remembered their fight and scowled. "Then the little fe...Joe, sets upon me with no warning and accuses me of betraying someone named Adam. Are you he?" he asked Adam politely.
Adam extended his hand without a word and they shook.
"By the way, my name is..."
"Harry MacTeague." Charlotte finished from the porch and he turned to face her.
"Do I know you, Sir? Only my family ever called me Harry." He peered into the shade with an uncertain smile.
"Your given name is William," Charlotte said and stepped forward. "William Henry MacTeague."
Harry frowned as he studied her.
"True. Only my Charlie declared Henry was a name for fat, lecherous kings, and as my father's name was William, renamed me Harry." He smiled softly as he shared this. He took a few steps toward her until they were a few feet apart.
"Who is this young man?"
She heard Mr. Cartwright ask from somewhere; her eyes were on Harry's face. Next to each other, she knew everyone could see how similar they were in coloring, though quite different in height and build. From a distance only did they look the same. Their relationship was clear.
"Two of them! How wonderful!" Olivia sighed to herself.
"What was our favorite play for our father to read to us?" Charlotte asked, needing to be sure, yet knowing that he would know.
"Twelfth Night, because of the twins, of course." He grinned. She barely held back a sob. "Charlie?" Harry asked, and touched her face with shaking fingers. "I thought you were dead."
Charlotte was unable to voice that she had thought the same of him. Instead, she burst into tears.
"I think it's Charlie's long lost brother. He has mentioned him." Adam said in tones of satisfaction. Harry shook his head at Charlotte and pulled her to him with a laugh.
"Don't cry, my Charlotte. You're made of sterner stuff than that."
Charlotte noticed his eyes weren't completely dry either and gave a watery laugh before hugging him tighter.
"Charlotte?" All the Cartwrights asked in unison and Hop Sing gave a deep long-suffering sigh.

~~~~~

Charlotte tensed, waiting for the explosion she felt was sure to come from the Cartwrights. Harry, typically, was unaware of any tension and continued talking, now addressing the stunned crowd.
"Of course Charlotte, my sister," he turned back to her, "Tell me, Charlie, how is it you're here? And what have you been doing? And why are you dressed as a boy?" He seemed to have at last noticed her strange attire. He held her at arm's length briefly to look her up and down. Then he touched her short hair. "Your beautiful hair. It's was just like Mama's."
"Sister?" Olivia repeated faintly. Her eyes were huge. They ignored her for the moment.
"It will grow back, Harry." She hugged him once again to reassure herself that he was actually alive and standing next to her. Then she stepped out of his arms and faced The Cartwrights and Olivia Dewitt, who surrounded her in a half circle. Time to face the music, Charlotte thought. She would have laughed in any other situation. She raised her eyes to Mr. Cartwright and Hop Sing, near each on other on the porch; she wasn't ready to look at Adam yet.
"A few months after our father died, my brother and I decided to join with all those crazy pioneers and head out West. We weren't desperate. Our mother died when we were younger and she from a good family, so despite Papa's having retired from the army a while back, we had some money. We just didn't want to live on the prairie anymore with Papa gone. We didn't even have a destination in mind, we would just stop anywhere that struck our fancy, possibly California. A few weeks after starting out, we were attacked by comancheros." Charlotte took a deep breath. "We were a small train, only a few wagons, nothing worth stealing really. I wasn't with them. I'd ridden off. I was so mad at you..." She trailed off and turned to look at Harry, who was looking serious for once as she told their story. "I heard the gunfire and the screaming, but what could I do? I had no gun, and to tell the truth, I was scared." She confessed this with shame.
"We understand, Child." Mr. Cartwright said gently and Charlotte blinked the tears out of her eyes. It took her a bit to be able to speak again. "I came back later and I saw everything. The women..." She didn't finish, but they seemed to understand her reluctance. "All I found of Harry was his bloodstained clothes. I thought he was dead, so I grabbed a few things and ran, in case they came back."
Harry came up behind her and took her hand.
"I decided to continue on West, but I soon found that this country is not the safest place for a woman alone. That's when I remembered out favorite play, Harry, Twelfth Night, and how the heroine disguises herself as a boy when she finds herself in a strange, unwelcome land. So I stole some clothes off a clothesline and hacked off my hair and never stayed in one place long enough for people to start asking questions. And it worked. You gave me a job because you thought I was a boy, didn't you?" She looked at Mr. Cartwright with a polite challenge. He nodded after a long moment. "It really was my only option."
Then Charlotte took a deep breath and finally looked at Adam.
"My name is Charlotte Rosalind MacTeague, though friends do call me Charlie. I am twenty-two, not sixteen, and this is Harry, my twin."
"Adam's expression didn't change at all. He had never seemed so cold or so distant as he did to Charlotte now.
"Well, don't that beat all?" Hoss said with one of his big grins. "Hey Joe! Can you believe that?"
Little Joe looked a little green and kept looking at her and then to his Pa. It would have amused Charlotte any other time. Surely his father wouldn't be angry with him over the fight? After all, he hadn't known her gender at the time and she wasn't really hurt.
"So I take it you thought you were kissing someone else, Miss?" Harry winked at Olivia, who blushed.
"Olivia Dewitt," Olivia recovered from her embarrassment enough to give him a small flirtatious smile. Mr. Cartwright cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. Charlotte went up to him.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Cartwright, for lying to you and Little Joe and Hoss and Hop Sing for coming into your home under false pretenses." Charlotte bowed her head. "But I want you to know that I loved it here." She raised her head to look back at Adam. He stared at her for one long moment and then turned his back on her to remount Sport and ride off into the woods. She swallowed in a vain effort to clear the lump from her throat, then turned back to Mr. Cartwright.
"Thank you for our hospitality, Sir. I'll get my things and Harry and I will leave now." She said thickly.
"Now just a minute." Mr. Cartwright harrumphed. "There's no need for that. You're still a friend here, Charlie...hmmm Charlotte, and friends are always welcome on the Ponderosa."
Hop Sing gave him a furious look and poked him in the ribs.
"And your brother too of course. As long as you both need to get yourselves settled," he added quickly, glancing at Hop Sing.
"Yeah, of course you're welcome, though I reckon we ought to be apologizin' to you for some of what we might of said 'round you." Hoss lifted her in a huge bear hug. She squeaked a little and he released her. "Oh, sorry, ma'am." He said and blushed. Their kindness was too much for her.
"Oh, Hoss, you don't need to apologize for anything." She threw herself at him and hugged him fiercely, making his blush deepen. His big hand patted her back. Little Joe came up and hugged her awkwardly as well.
"But you don't have any breasts," he said wonderingly then shot a quick look to his father when realized he'd said this out loud. Mr. Cartwright did not look pleased. Charlotte laughed softly and punched him lightly in the arm.
"They're taken care of," she said mysteriously, though with a small blush of her own, just to watch both him and Hoss grow confused as they tried to figure this out. Hoss even removed his hat to scratch his head. Then she got serious for a moment. "Thank you all."
"Hey, where'd Adam go?" Little Joe finally looked around their little group for his oldest brother. Charlotte ducked her head again.
"I don't think Adam is very happy with me." She tried to laugh but it came out wrong.
"I see" Mr. Cartwright said heavily, giving her an assessing look. His remaining sons frowned, clearly not seeing anything.
"You know...Charlotte...I have some dresses I could loan you if you wish." Olivia moved to stand next to her; her eyes were full of understanding. Charlotte didn't think dresses would help the situation, but thanked her anyway.
"I'm sorry, Olivia, for misleading you."
Olivia waved it away and looked at Harry with interest. Her look was returned.
"Time for tea." Hop Sing announced. "Everyone inside."
"Tea? I could use me a drink." Hoss smacked his lips. Little Joe nodded.
"Me too," Charlotte added, and they all gave her strange looks, even Harry.
"There will be no drinking in my house at this time of day." Mr. Cartwright's statement returned things to order. Everyone began filing through the front door.
"Are those clothes comfortable?" Olivia asked as they walked.
"No corset, you have no idea how comfortable." Charlotte sighed just thinking about it.
"Really?" Olivia looked intrigued.
"Oh my Lord, it's spreading," Little Joe looked alarmed. "Leave us some girls, will ya, Charlie?"
Charlotte and Olivia rounded on him in unison.
"A girl is a girl no matter what she wears, Joseph Cartwright." Charlotte scolded him.
"She was a better boy than you were any day of the week, Little Joe!" Olivia snapped. "She listened to me. You might try it some time."
"I always listen to girls," Little Joe insisted and shared a glance with Harry. Charlotte knew that look. It meant, women, what can you do with them? She punched Little Joe's arm again, a little harder. After a considering look, Olivia did the same to Harry. And then, united as only women can be when angry with men, went inside and waited for their tea.

~~~~~

Alone in her room at last, Charlotte sat on her bed to cry. Well, she'd meant to cry. She'd barely been able to keep herself from weeping downstairs, but for some reason, now that she was alone she just felt sort of empty. She was going to miss the Cartwrights when she left. Almost as much as she was going to miss Adam. Almost. They were such nice people and such a wonderful family.
Once everyone had moved inside the house it had been nothing but friendly questions and gentle teasing to show that they'd accepted her again. Though Hoss and Joe had nearly ma'amed her to death, as if to make up for failing to recognize her gender. But, even with their support, she knew she couldn't stay on the Ponderosa. Staying here with Adam would be too hard. She'd agreed to stay one more night at Mr. Cartwright's urging, but tomorrow she was moving into town with Harry. They would be staying in Virginia City until they decided where to go.
Harry! She was still having trouble accepting that he was alive. She'd seen his clothes, covered in blood. His tale of survival had seemed at least as bizarre as hers, when he'd told his story to everyone downstairs.
He'd ridden off after her, after their fight, and had come across a small band of Indians. They hadn't seemed too pleased to see him but they didn't try to kill him or run him off, and Harry, being Harry, had been distracted. He'd been attempting to talk with them for some time when he'd heard the screams. He'd ridden back immediately but he was miles away and it was over by then. When he hadn't found her, he'd assumed the worst as she had and rode off after the bandits, determined to catch them or kill them.
Which, it turns out, he did. With the help of the local troop of cavalry eager to assist the son of the well-known Major William MacTeague. He'd looked positively grown up as he'd related this story, which made Charlotte feel very proud but a little sad as well. Olivia had been practically in his lap by the time he'd finished telling of his adventure. She smiled, thinking of that particular relationship. As Charlotte had excused herself from the group, she had heard Little Joe and Harry arguing over who got to escort Olivia home. She would bet good money that Harry won. Then the smile left her face. Adam hadn't come back and after awhile Charlotte had tired of listening for the sound of a rider approaching. That's when she'd left the merry group to come up here.
She gathered up her bag and began to put her meager possessions back into it: the photograph of Harry, her mother's cameo, an old hair ribbon she'd never gotten rid of, her pay from the Cartwrights as well as the five dollars she'd won on Golden Nugget, and something new, a drawing Adam had made of his pans for the mill, which he'd made when she'd asked about the design one day. It was hardly a cherished token of a lover's affection, but it would do as a momento. She gently placed it in the bag and began to get ready for bed. She had just started unbuttoning her shirt to change when a furious Adam pushed the door open and entered her room.
For a moment all she could do was stare. She had never seen him openly angry before. His eyes were burning as he stared at her.
"Adam!" she said unnecessarily and belatedly stood up.
"It's time we had that talk, Charlotte." He pronounced her name coldly. Then he kicked the door closed behind him and locked it without even turning around.
"Have you been drinking?" she asked suspiciously, sniffing the air for spirits.
"Why don't I ask the questions?" he grabbed a chair and spun it around to sit in it in the same graceful move. "Sit." He ordered and she did, regarding him warily. When he just sat for a few minutes, staring at her with a brooding expression ,she decided to apologize.
"Adam, I'm sorry for lying to you, you have no idea how sorry."
"Oh, I have an idea," he interrupted sarcastically. "Either you didn't trust me enough to tell me, or you were having a little joke at my expense. Which is it?" he barked at her and she started to get a little angry herself.
"I had my reasons! It wasn't like that, Adam."
"Wasn't it?" he got up and casually threw the chair aside. It hit the wall with a loud crash. "Did you enjoy making a fool of me? Sharing my confidences, while telling me nothing? Why should I believe anything you say, you little liar? I won't even believe you're a woman until I see the proof for myself." He looked her over; his gaze was coldly considering.
"What?" She couldn't quite believe that he's just said that and was completely unprepared when he grabbed her by the shirt and tore it open, sending buttons flying everywhere. Charlotte's hands came up to cover herself even though she still wore her bindings. The sight seemed to shock him. He let her go and took a step back. His hands were shaking. Charlotte didn't care if he suddenly felt guilty or sorry, she was furious. "Is this what you wanted to see, Adam?" she shouted at him and began to unravel the long strip of cloth from around herself. She wasn't halfway through when his hand touched hers.
"Don't." He bit out the word.
"Why not? It's all men are interested in, right? Why I had to wear this disguise in the first place, right?" She snarled at him and kept going.
"Don't, I said!" He yelled and grabbed her hands. The move pulled her to him and they stood there just staring at each other and breathing heavily for several heartbeats.
"Adam," she managed to say and then his lips were on hers. Her legs were suddenly unable to support her. She fell backwards across her bed, taking Adam with her. He was a little heavy, but when he tried to raise himself off her, her arms encircled his neck to pull him back down. She knew it was shameless, but for the moment, didn't care.
One of his hands was working its way through her bindings, to Charlotte's great enjoyment, when there was a tentative knock at the door.
"Everything all right in there? You haven't done murdered our Charlie, have ya Adam? Hoss worried from behind the door. Adam lifted his head to stare down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. His cheeks were flushed and his mouth was still slightly open. Charlotte just stared back; she could only imagine what she looked like.
"We're fine, Hoss." he said at last. There was a whisper from outside. "See I told ya they was fine, Joe. We didn't need to come up here."
"Well how I supposed to know?" Little Joe argued back. "What are you doing in there, Adam? Charlie?" He asked naively. Charlotte couldn't keep the smile from her face, as embarrassed and angry as she was. Adam was smiling too.
"That is no of your business, Little Brother." Adam couldn't keep the exasperation from his voice. It was quiet for a minute and then they could hear an irritated,
"Dadgumit!" from Hoss and the sound of an unwilling Little Joe being dragged back downstairs. Charlotte blushed and looked away from Adam's amused gaze.
"My brothers," he said ruefully and stood up. He was rebuttoning his shirt and she realized with shock that she was must have opened it without being aware of it. She sat up and held her shirt closed with one hand. He cleared his throat.
"When I demanded that a minute ago, I was angry and forgot what you'd been through. It must have been horrible."
Charlotte snorted.
"That's an understatement." There were a few seconds of silence, then she asked, in a quiet voice, "Do you think it was cowardly of me, not to run to help?" She was thinking of her father. Adam smiled gently.
"You're one of the least cowardly people I know" he said simply. She looked up, surprised and touched at the same time. "I mean, you come to work on a ranch, and had to suffer even more, working for us overbearing Cartwrights." His tone was half-mocking, half-serious.
"There's only one overbearing Cartwright," she sniffed.
"So you did suffer my presence?" It was impossible to guess what he was thinking or the motive for this question.
"I love our time together. Even our arguments." She shook her head sadly; it would all be ending now.
"So why didn't you trust me?" Adam moved to the corner of the room and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms firmly and regarded her without expression.
"I did, Adam. I just...well, I was sacred you would hate me for lying. And I didn't think I would be here that long at first."
He nodded, accepting this, then asked another question.
"Was it very hard for you, on your own?"
Cautiously, she nodded back. She wondered why he wanted to know this.
"I was hungry, of course, and scared, and cold all the time, even during the day. But the worst of it was that I'd never been alone before, without even a friend." She stopped to glare at him defiantly. "But I survived."
"Better than some men would have" he commented.
"Is that a compliment?" Her tone was icy. Adam pushed himself off the wall, standing up straight to yell at her.
"Dammit, Charlie! I'm trying to tell you I think what you did was brave and you snap my head off!"
"Well, I'm just not used to much kindness from you, Adam Cartwright." She sniffed again. He looked hurt.
"Is that true?"
Charlotte sighed grumpily.
"No," she admitted. He sighed.
"Good. I thought we were friends."
Charlotte winced. Friends.
"We were," she said finally.
"Not are?" he asked blandly. Charlotte slanted him a look but said nothing.
"And why did you stay so long? Why not move on like you did before?" He stared at her intently. She didn't answer this question either. Adam just kept on asking questions. "Who were you talking about when you mentioned your "sister" and how she had no pride where some man was concerned? Come on, Charlie, you owe me some answers."
"Oh, all right! I was speaking of you! Happy now?" Charlotte huffed. A smile was beginning to play about Adam's mouth.
"And that's what last night was about?" Adam had obviously done a lot of thinking on his ride.
"Yes." Charlotte said with a challenging tilt to her head, but avoiding his eyes. He let out a deep breath.
"You said to me once, that you'd never been closer to anyone than you were to me. Was that true?" he apparently wanted her to suffer more. She frowned at him.
"What do you want to hear? That I love you, you heartless bastard? Well, fine, I love you. I love Adam Cartwright!" She shouted at the top of her lungs and crossed her arms to glare stubbornly at him.
"That's what I wanted to hear," he said and lazily moved back across the room to her. She put up a hand to stop him in sudden panic.
"No, Adam. I won't allow it. Not when it's obvious you don't care for me in the same way."
His smirk returned and she rose up furiously, wanting to strike him.
"That's what I'm talking about. I'm making all the admissions and your pride's still intact. You never make sacrifices."
"Men speak through actions, not words." He looked extremely uncomfortable.
"You're a man of both actions and words." She smirked back at him.
"Walking like a man like you accused me of before?" he mused. She nodded. "So this is a test?"
Charlotte said nothing, just looked back at him, waiting. He regarded her for a moment in a standoff.
"Fine." He said finally, then stood there doing nothing for a full minute. Abruptly he cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again.
"I'm...sorry...for what I said earlier and for not believing you before. I said I would help you if you ever needed me, and I didn't."
"What?" Charlotte was shocked, but he misinterpreted her reaction.
"I'm sorry!" He shouted crossly. There was the faint sound of laughter from downstairs. Studying his posture, Charlotte was charmed. He looked rather like a petulant little boy.
"And?" She tapped her foot and waited.
"And..." he drew out the word and pulled at his collar. "Is it hot in here?" he tried to change the subject.
"Adam Cartwright!" she couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice.
"Oh, all right, I love you!" he snarled furiously and turned away. "I love Charlotte Rosalind MacTeague!" he opened the door and yelled it into the hallway. "Satisfied?"
"There's hope for you yet, Adam." Charlotte laughed and ran to him. The strength of her embrace knocked them both to the floor.
When Hoss and Little Joe came upstairs a few seconds later, they found a repeat of what had been going on only minutes earlier behind closed doors.
"Oh," was all Little Joe said, then he grinned appreciatively. Hoss just blushed. Charlotte scrambled to stand up, blushing all the while, and ran back into her room. Adam sighed and got up too. The boys winced, obviously anticipating his wrath, but he ignored them for the time being and looked at Charlotte.
"Are you all right?" he asked her in concern from the doorway. She nodded firmly. The action caused the last of her binding to fall away with a little rush, too fast for her to do anything about it. Adam blinked and stared for a minute before turning to face his younger brothers. "Good night, Boys," he smirked and closed the door with a definite click.
As Adam waked slowly toward her, Charlotte could hear the whispers of the two youngest Cartwrights in the hall.
"How come Adam's always so lucky?" A disgruntled Joe asked.
"I reckon it's all them books he reads." Hoss answered glumly. Charlotte exchanged a glance with Adam and burst out laughing. She decided that the characteristics of the Cartwrights were simply not typical of all men. The Cartwrights were unique. She smiled to herself as Adam held her. Good.


The End