LOST & FOUND – PART IX
REMEMBERANCE
Chapter 84
Ben finished fastening the tail gate of the deep wagon full of machinery in place and then sighed as he shaded his eyes with one hand from the sun almost directly overhead. He swept his gave over the neat and tidy cemetery and noticed the twins standing by a small monument in the shape of a lamb.
The white marble of the small statue shone brilliantly in the strong sunshine and Annalise was running her hands all over the lamb's head while Alexander was staring intently at the inscription deeply chiseled into the gray stone base. He had just dropped down into a crouch to trace his fingers over the words when Ben reached them. Annalise gave him a delighted smile.
"Look Grandpa, isn't it beautiful?" she enthused while still running her hands over it as though committing it to memory. Chuckling, Ben started to reach out with one hand to smooth stray wisps of the child's shiny black hair down, but then realized his hands were too earth and grass stained.
"Yes, it is a beautiful piece of work," he agreed and she laughed, continuing to closely examine the small form. He was about to tell both children it was time to leave when Alexander finally spoke.
"Grandpa, what does this say?" the boy's tone was deeply solemn and his gaze stayed fastened on the inscription.
Ben hesitated, unsure as to what he should or shouldn't say, so he turned to look for his eldest son and spotted him standing next to Joan's grave with his head down and his hands clasped together. As though sensing the weight of his father's stare, Adam looked up and their eyes met in silent communication. Then he nodded and after taking a deep breath, the older man turned back to answer his grandson's question.
"I know you're learning how to read in school, so sound out the words and I'll help you," Ben answered quietly and Annalise darted a startled look at his serious expression. Her smile faded and she slowly came to stand beside him, wrapped one arm around his leg and leaned against him.
"The first name starts with two 'A's' and I don't know how to say that," Alexander's tone was impatient with frustration at not knowing and Ben smiled a small smile at how much he sounded like his father at that age.
"The second 'A" is silent..."
"Well if you don't say it, then why is it in there?" the boy shook his head in wonder at what he saw as another example of adult stupidity then went on, not waiting for an answer.
"Air...on..."
"That's close," his grandfather said. "But the 'r-o-n' sounds the same as 'run'."
"Oh..." Alex shook his head again and continued on to the next word. "Add...eye...son," he glanced u again. "That doesn't sound right."
"The 'I' in the middle is pronounced as 'uh'," Ben answered. "And I'm sure you know the next word." Alex nodded as he ran his eyes across the first line of the inscription.
"Then his name was...Aaron Addison Cartwright." The boy didn't wait for confirmation before starting on the next line.
"Be...love...ed...oh, I've heard that one before in church! It's 'beloved' isn't it?" he reached out to trace the word with his index finger.
"Yes it is."
"OK, the next word is 's-o-n' and that means 'son' so the next line says 'beloved son'."
Ben reached out to encourage his grandson by firmly squeezing his small shoulder. "Right!"
"I think I can read the whole thing now," Alexander said with an emphatic nod. "It says 'Aaron Addison Cartwright...beloved son...sleep little one, sleep', right Grandpa?"
"Very good son, yes it does."
"But what do these numbers mean?" the boy was now tracing the last line of the inscription with both hands and started slightly when Annalise spoke up.
"That says when he was bornded and when he died," she answered her brother's question in a small voice filled with sorrow as she tightened her hold on her grandfather's leg. Then she let out a small sob and pressed her face into the side of his thigh. Ben forgot all about the dirt on his hands and gently cupped the back of her small head.
"She's right Alex, that's what those numbers mean. They represent the dates of his birth and death."
"But...how come they're the same then?" The boy got to his feet and turned to face his grandfather.
"Because he was born and died on the same day."
Alex's eyes narrowed and his lips briefly pressed together in a grim line. "You mean he was a baby? Like Matthew...and Thomas...and Benny?"
Ben just nodded, silently waiting for the next question he knew would be coming, but Annalise provided the answer before the question could be asked.
"He was our brother," her voice was muffled against Ben's leg, "he was bornded first a long time ago." Alex's face turned bright red and Ben was shocked at the furious glare he turned her way.
"That's not true!"
"Yes it is."
"No it's not and Pa is gonna punish you for lying!"
"It is too true and I DON'T lie!" Annalise's face was still wet with tears as she turned her head to return her brother's angry stare.
The boy opened his mouth to argue the point further, but Ben broke in.
"Now that's enough you two, this is not the time or the place for an argument!" he said forcefully, but low, and both children gave him a startled look before hanging their heads. Sighing, he went down on one knee to gather them into his arms.
"Alex, I know this is a very hurtful thing, but your sister IS telling the truth and I'm surprised at you for accusing her of lying."
After wiping a few small tears away, Alexander kept his head down and looked at his sister through wet and spiky upper lashes.
"I'm sorry," he said with a tight throat and was visibly relieved when his sister gave him a small smile, forgiving him quickly and easily as usual.
Glad their little spat was over, Ben tightened his hold on them and stood, settling a child on each hip before turning and starting for the wagons where everyone was now waiting.
Having just given his father permission to explain to the twins about the brother they never knew they had, Adam returned to contemplating the grass- covered mound at his feet. He closed his eyes and continued going over his memories of the sad, tragic, and disturbed woman who had saved his son's life, tried to take his brother's, and sacrificed her own.
His concentration was so deep, he wasn't aware of Dylan coming to stand next to him until the younger man cleared his throat. He opened his eyes and waited, but didn't move.
"Refresh my memory...did you say you didn't recognize Joan in the Bentwood Junction jail because she had managed to disguise herself so well?" Adam nodded without lifting his eyes from the grave.
"I see...did she by any chance make herself look old?"
Adam nodded again and his eyes narrowed slightly, anticipating the other man's train of thought.
"Hmmm...and didn't you say you almost ran over an elderly woman when you were chasing the person who slipped that note from Hunter under the door at Eden House?"
The corners of Adam's mouth twitched, then lifted slightly as he silently nodded for the third time.
"I was just wondering Boss," Dylan continued, "because the night before Hunter torched that abandoned church in Earlystown we thought we heard someone at the door." He paused to dart a quick sideways look at the other man to gauge his reaction and was relieved, but not surprised, to see him grinning now.
"But when Stu looked, all he saw was what he took to be an elderly woman with white hair shuffling down the hall."
Shaking his head in wonder, Adam's grin widened into a smile.
"You know," the tall red-haired man went on, his voice ringing with admiration for the woman, "I'm pretty sure I got a brief look at her face a couple of days before the fire and those pale-blue eyes are all I can remember now."
Dylan took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the older man began to shake with barely audible laughter.
"Interesting chain of coincidence, don't you think?" he finished, and dared to clap one hand to the other man's back before walking away, smiling widely himself.
After wiping a few tears of laughter away, Adam sighed and his amused expression slowly faded.
"Ah Joan..." he said softly, a world of regret in his tone before he turned away to intercept his father and the twins on their way to the wagons.
When he reached them he was quick to correctly assess the situation and gave his father a grateful smile before putting a large hand on the back of each child's neck and dropping a kiss on the top of each small, sun-warmed head. The his brows rose slightly when he noticed signs of fatigue on his father's face.
"Would you do me a favor Pa, and let me drive the equipment wagon so you can keep these two with you?" he asked as he put one hand on Ben's back to steer him toward the wagonload of people.
His father slanted him a slightly suspicious look. "All right, but you'll have to hold them while I get in."
Adam started to reach for his children, but then stepped back when Hoss suddenly appeared.
"Don't worry about that Pa, just hang on to 'em tight," the big man interrupted with a laugh and lifted all three in. Still laughing, he put up the tailgate and went to take the reins as Ben sat down and settled the now heavy-eyed children into his lap.
Adam only paused long enough to give his wife a quick nod in answer to her inquisitive look before moving out of the way so Hoss could back the wagon up and turn it around. He watched it roll through the main gate and had to laugh with everyone else when Thea shouted, "Don't you dawdle now!" at the top of her voice.
In a few moments he pulled the horses up on the other side of the main gate where John was waiting to swing thm shut. The baby-faced deputy was still chuckling as he climbed up and sat down.
"You know, for such little woman Thea sure does have an impressive set of lungs!" he said then turned bright red when Adam burst out laughing.
"I didn't mean it that way!" he protested, horrified at having said something off-color, even though by accident.
"I know...I know," Adam assured his deputy as he released the brake and slapped the reins against the horses' backs. He laughed one more time before turning to give the mortified man sitting beside him a wicked smile as they started down the road.
"But seriously John, she really does, doesn't she?"
Ben leaned back against the side of the wagon and tightened his hold on the now sleeping children before closing his own eyes. Voices swirling around him faded into the background, and he found his thoughts turning back to the day when he had learned about the death of his first-born grandchild...
More than a month earlier, Ben and Hoss entered the Sage Brush and saw the deputies gathered at their "usual" table. The two men had just sat down when Joe hurried in. He came around the table to sit next to his father and all conversation stopped when they saw how upset he was.
Leaning forward to look at Hoss he said, "Did you ever tell Pa about Adam and Thea's first son?"
The big man blinked, obviously startled by the question. "Nope...thought you did."
Joe shook his head then turned to Ben. "I think Nate should tell you about it since he was the one who told us," he offered in an effort to make explanations short.
The blond-haired deputy leaned across the table, his deep-blue eyes met Ben's earnestly. "He was born months too soon Mr. Cartwright...the poor thing never even took a single breath."
"When did this happen?" Ben asked, his face having paled considerably.
"Not very long after they married – it almost destroyed them," Nate answered in a hushed voice.
"Do you remember when that was?" Joe asked him. "I mean what month?"
Nate thought for a moment then his eyes opened wide, "What's the date today?"
"October third," Joe answered.
"Damn that's the date, so today is the anniversary," Nate answered, clearly uneasy.
"Now this is finally making sense," Joe sighed then continued. "I ran into Dave Ross from the freight office and he was asking me a lot of questions about a small crate Adam picked up this morning." He turned back to his father, "He said it was listed on the paperwork as 'remains'."
Ben closed his eyes and his face tightened with pain for his own first born.
"I never thought he would actually do it," Nate breathed wide-eyed. "When he told me that he was going to have the child exhumed and re-interred when they had a permanent home he was so drunk I didn't think he'd even remember it, let alone do it."
"Adam was drunk?" Hoss asked in surprise.
"Just about as inebriated as I've ever seen anyone be and still be partially conscious," Nate answered. "He didn't actually pass out until I hot him home."
Hoss was obviously shaken to the core as he stared at his younger brother. "You mean he actually had that baby dug up and brought here?"
"That's what it looks like."
"But why?" The big man now also seemed bewildered.
Ben finally looked up, "When YOUR child is born and you become a father, you'll understand," he said, but not unkindly.
Hoss was nodding as his father stood, "Where you goin', Pa?"
"To the cemetery," the older man said quietly and started for the door. The rest of the men glanced at each other then got to their feet and hurried to follow. When they reached the cemetery, dismounted, and went through the gate they saw Adam standing next to a small, freshly filled-in grave. He stood with his back to them and a shovel lay on the ground at his feet.
Adam glanced over his shoulder at them, but then turned back without displaying any reaction at all to thier presence.
The men ranged themselves around the small mound and Adam still stood there with his earth-stained hands clasped in front of him, staring down at his first child's final resting place.
Ben was standing to his right and as the silence lengthened he looked at the small headstone topped by a carving of a small lamb. He winced, his heart aching as he read the name deeply etched into the stone. Then he put his head down and closed his eyes.
"I hope you all understand that I had to do this by myself. He is my son and I alone am responsible," Adam said in a hoarse, pained voice.
That startled everyone and they all looked to Nate who shook his head and mouthed the word "NO."
Adam continued, "I know you all want to help and I thank you, but I need to be alone for a while."
No one nodded or said a word, they just quietly walked away and Ben was the last to go. He had just stepped back when Adam said, "Pa, would you please wait for me in my office at home? I won't be much longer."
Ben put a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze as his answer. Then he moved away to join the others at the gate. But before he stepped through, he turned back to look at his eldest son. Adam stood motionless, straight and solid – his shoulders set and strong, bearing the incredible weight of his old wounds and his fresh grief.
Even while his heart bled, Ben felt a warm glow of admiration well up for his son's strength of character. He raised his eyes to the sky and sent an arrow prayer up to God.
"Please Lord, don't let him suffer over this any more," he said low, and then went through the gate to join the rest for the short ride back to town.
When Ben reached the house he noticed that Thea was sitting on the front porch swing watching him approach. She waved to him before he continued down the graveled drive then dismounted to lead his horse into the barn. He had a feeling he would be staying for a while.
"Pa! Come sit with me for a bit," Thea called to him in a slightly rough voice when he came around the corner of the house and into the front yard. When he reached her he could tell by her red eyes that she had been crying.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"No, but I will be," she said seriously as he sat next to her. Ben slipped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him with a sigh.
"Did you go to the cemetery?" she asked softly. He nodded. "Is he still there?" He nodded again.
"I dread this day every year, but I hope this will be the last one now that he's brought Aaron home." She shook her head.
"But isn't grief a natural and normal thing for him to be feeling?"
"Yes, but not this overwhelming guilt that rises up and practically chokes the life out of him." She shifted on the seat to lean back and met Ben's sorrowful gaze.
"You see, I keep telling him that nothing and no one could have saved our child, but he just continues to struggle and suffer." She shook her head again. "I just can't understand it and he refuses to talk about it."
"I don't understand it either. How could he possibly hold himself responsible for an act of nature?"
"I have no idea," Thea sighed.
They were both silent for a few moments then she spoke. "You know, I never even got to see him. I was unconscious when he was born and when I woke up in the hospital it was too late. Adam had to go through burying Aaron alone. Maybe if I had been there things might have been different." She made an impatient sound, "Oh Pa, I'm just so tired of this question and never having any kind of an answer. I'm so tired of seeing what it does to him every year, and frustrated at not being able to do anything about it. Sometimes I could just scream – scream and try to shake some sense into him."
"I'm so sorry, child. I wish I could take some of this burden for you."
"I know," she said and gave him a small smile. "Please don't think I'm being heartless, but as a doctor I can tell you some children are just not meant to be born. Something is not right from the very beginning and it's nothing anyone can see until it's over." She took a deep breath then let it out slowly as she stood and turned to look up the road.
"Well, he's probably going to be back soon so I should go inside. He doesn't like to be around anyone when he's going through this."
"Thea, he asked me to meet him in his office here."
She quickly swung around toward him, astonished. "He did!"
"Yes."
"Oh Sweet Lord! Then he's finally ready to talk about it," she said with both relief and unease in her voice. She looked at him earnestly, "Pa, I know you are a very intelligent man. Would you be offended if I offered you some advice about how to handle this?"
He smiled as he shook his head.
"Just let him talk and only ask him questions."
Ben thought about that for a moment then nodded. He opened his mouth to tell her that made good sense, but stopped when he spotted his eldest son coming. Thea glanced over her shoulder then turned back to quickly bend down and kiss him on the cheek.
"Maybe now that he has you back in his life he'll be able to put this behind him," she said low before hurrying into the house.
He slowly followed and had just entered the tower office by the inside door as Adam came in the outside door.
"Thank you for waiting."
Ben just smiled and remained silent as he settled himself in a deep armchair and Adam came to sit on the sofa directly opposite. He stared down at the floor for a moment and when he raised his head his father's face tightened at the pain he saw there. Then that look was gone
"Pa, I know Nate told you all 'no' when I said I was responsible for my son's death, but he's wrong. I AM responsible; my child is dead because of my actions."
Ben bit back a quick denial and tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact. "If being born too soon is not what killed him, then what did? And how could you possibly be responsible?"
"You want to know what killed my son? I'll tell you – my pride is what killed him."
"Your pride?"
Adam put a hand up and rubbed his forehead. "Yes, my pride. I made it clear to Thea before we were married that we would live on what I could provide. I was determined to never touch a penny of the fortune she inherited from her grandmother and father." He sighed.
"Pa, I knew something was wrong. Just like I knew the triplets would all be boys, and just like I knew something would go wrong with their births." He paused as he closed his eyes.
"I just knew, and I didn't follow my instincts. I did not swallow my pride, take some of that money, and see that my wife and child received the care they needed. That is why I am responsible and I'll have to live with that fact for the rest of my life." He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands as he continued.
"When Thea went into labor I was frantic, there was no time to send for help and when she became unconscious I almost panicked. He was born no more than two minutes later." He straightened up and held out a hand toward his father, palm up.
"I could almost hold that child in just one hand Pa, he was that small. He had no heartbeat and did not take one single breath, but he did open his eyes. I swear to you that he opened his eyes and he looked at me for just a second, then they closed and he went limp. I knew he was dead, but I tried everything I could think of – it made no difference."
"I still see those eyes," he went on in a deeply pained voice and bowed his head again. "They watch me in my dreams. They look at me out of the darkness when I can't sleep, and they always are saying the same thing. 'Why did you let me die?'"
"Have you ever told Thea this?" Ben asked gently, already knowing the answer.
"I can't." Adam answered him flatly then leaned back..
"Is that why you push her away every year? To keep her at a distance so she won't see what's tearing you up inside?"
Adam nodded then closed his eyes. "I can't stand the thought of my wife hating me and she will if I tell her the truth – the truth that I KNEW, but did nothing."
Ben's face tightened with anger. "That's not fair Adam, Thea would never hate you!"
"I keep telling you people that you don't know her as well as I do. You don't understand how unbending and unforgiving she can be."
"Maybe with other people, but never with you. You have to share this burden with her. If you don't, it will just keep getting worse and you'll end up with a wall of silence between you. You HAVE to tell her, son."
"Are you sure about that, Pa? Are you absolutely and without a doubt sure she will not turn her back on me?"
"Yes," Ben answered without a second's hesitation.
Adam sat up quickly and leaned forward toward his father, staring into his eyes intently. The certainty he saw there seemed to make up his mind. Without another word, he went to the office door, opened it and called his wife's name. Ben could hear her quick footsteps coming.
When she came into the room he stood saying, "I think I'll go look in on the children if you don't mind."
Thea nodded and gave him a grateful smile.
He glanced back as he went through the door and saw Adam pull her into his lap as he sat down. Ben sighed in relief.
Making his way upstairs he found the twins in the playroom in between their bedrooms. They greeted him with high excitement at his unexpected visit and each took one of his hands to tug him over to a double-sided easel so he could see what they had been drawing – their ponies.
Annalise's attempt was better than what one would expect from a five-year- old, but when he moved to the other side his eyes opened wide. Somehow Alex had managed to capture movement in his picture, the pony looked as though he would gallop off the page any second.
Ben bent down to examine it more closely and shook his head. The anatomy of the small horse was faithfully reproduced in detail, a very difficult thing for even an accomplished artist to achieve.
"This is very good Alex," he told his grandson quietly as Annalise came around to stand next to him.
"Alex can draw anything," she said proudly and hurried over to a cabinet. She opened the door, pulled out a sheaf of papers, and then hurried back to hand them to her grandfather.
He moved over to a small table and laid the papers down before going through them. He was astounded by what he saw. He hadn't expected that most would be portraits of family members and action scenes done from memory.
There was Joe lying in the snow with Thea sitting on him and shoving a handful of it in his face. The next was a head-and-shoulder's portrait of Annalise that captured the sweetness of her character. The boy had switched to watercolors to portray Hoss and Dora sitting together on the front porch swing. Hoss was laughing while Dora looked up at him with her charmingly cheeky grin.
Ben worked his way slowly down the stack, and when he reached the last one he almost gasped. Alexander had chosen his father for this picture and had drawn him with charcoal in a pose the boy no doubt had seen many times.
He had drawn his father in profile from the knees up and holding Benjamin closely cuddled up against his chest. Adam was looking down at the infant with all the love he felt for his child plainly written on his face, his large, strong hands conveying the impression of gentleness.
Alex had come to stand next to his grandfather as he went through the pictures and now he looked down into the boy's smiling face. "These are wonderful," he simply said and Alexander's smile widened.
"Do you want that one Grandpa?" he asked hopefully, as though testing the sincerity of his grandfather's statement.
"Yes," Ben said as he reached to put a hand on his grandson's head. "Yes, I would like that very much."
"That one's my favorite too," Annalise informed him, her emerald eyes still shining with pride in her brother's talent.
"I'm gonna do one of Ma like that, do you think you'd want that one too?" Alex was almost vibrating with excitement, pleased he could give his grandfather a present.
"I certainly would!" Ben said, and then laughed at how Alex wriggled like a puppy with pleasure.
"I'll start I right now!" the boy enthused and trotted over to the easel. He took the picture of the pony down and replaced it with a new piece of drawing paper. Picking up a stick of charcoal from the tray, he poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and began to draw, his brow furrowed in fierce concentration.
"I have something for you too, Grandpa," Annalise said low and went to the cabinet again. When she came back she handed him a small, clay figure. The figure was a man reclining with his knees drawn up, his hands clasped on his stomach, and his hat pulled low to cover most of his face. Ben had no trouble at all recognizing the man as Hoss. The details and the proportions of the body were all slightly exaggerated, like a very clever and subtle caricature.
"Did someone teach you how to do this?" he asked his granddaughter and she grinned as she shook her head.
"Well, thank you very much, this is wonderful." Her sweet face lit up with happiness and she threw her arms around his waist to hug him tight. Then she stepped back and tugged on his hand so he would bend down.
"I only draw to keep Alex company, he doesn't like to draw alone," she whispered into his ear then gave him another smile before skipping back to the other side of the easel.
Ben watched the two for a moment then left the room holding the drawing and the clay figure carefully. He went into the nursery next and placed them safely on the bureau before going to look at the babies. Matthew and Thomas were deeply asleep, but Benjamin was wide-awake and standing up his crib. He held onto the top bar of the crib side and grinned at his grandfather showing four small white teeth in front. Then he held his arms out demanding, "Up!"
He obligingly picked the child up and when he turned around he started in surprise to see his eldest son standing right behind him. Adam motioned toward the rocking chairs on the other side of the room.
When they were both seated Adam watched his father put the baby to his shoulder and begin to rock. Ben looked at him expectantly.
"How did it go?" he asked apprehensively then relaxed when his eldest son raised one eyebrow and smiled his half smile.
"You're not going to believe this...she told me I was being stupid."
"What?"
"She called me stupid, and out of all the reactions I expected that was not one of them. Thea still insists that if she didn't see or feel any signs of something being wrong then no other doctor would have either. And she's right – I WAS being stupid and I should have given her the same trust I've always demanded that she have in me."
Adam paused to sigh tiredly. "But you know how it is, your head tells you one thing, your heart tells you another."
His father just nodded. "You told her everything?"
"Everything."
"Good," was all Ben had to say then and the two men rocked in silence for a while.
"You know," Adam said softly, "I'm not only stupid, I'm selfish too."
His father gave him a questioning look.
"I have four healthy, intelligent sons and a beautiful, brilliant daughter, but that's not enough. I want Aaron too; I want all six of my children here."
"Why is that being selfish?"
"To wish him back from a place where I know there is no pain of any kind? From a place where he will never, ever feel anything but contentment?" Adam let out a small chuff of harsh laughter. "I consider that to be selfish, don't you?"
Ben shook his head, "Maybe so, but that's the way a father's heart is. That's the way a father's heart is supposed to be. We love our children and want what's best for them, but at the same time we never want to let them go."
Adam nodded and the two men exchanged a look of perfect understanding. Then they continued to rock in comfortable silence until Matthew woke from his nap and made his disgruntled mood known at the top of his voice.
REMEMBERANCE
Chapter 84
Ben finished fastening the tail gate of the deep wagon full of machinery in place and then sighed as he shaded his eyes with one hand from the sun almost directly overhead. He swept his gave over the neat and tidy cemetery and noticed the twins standing by a small monument in the shape of a lamb.
The white marble of the small statue shone brilliantly in the strong sunshine and Annalise was running her hands all over the lamb's head while Alexander was staring intently at the inscription deeply chiseled into the gray stone base. He had just dropped down into a crouch to trace his fingers over the words when Ben reached them. Annalise gave him a delighted smile.
"Look Grandpa, isn't it beautiful?" she enthused while still running her hands over it as though committing it to memory. Chuckling, Ben started to reach out with one hand to smooth stray wisps of the child's shiny black hair down, but then realized his hands were too earth and grass stained.
"Yes, it is a beautiful piece of work," he agreed and she laughed, continuing to closely examine the small form. He was about to tell both children it was time to leave when Alexander finally spoke.
"Grandpa, what does this say?" the boy's tone was deeply solemn and his gaze stayed fastened on the inscription.
Ben hesitated, unsure as to what he should or shouldn't say, so he turned to look for his eldest son and spotted him standing next to Joan's grave with his head down and his hands clasped together. As though sensing the weight of his father's stare, Adam looked up and their eyes met in silent communication. Then he nodded and after taking a deep breath, the older man turned back to answer his grandson's question.
"I know you're learning how to read in school, so sound out the words and I'll help you," Ben answered quietly and Annalise darted a startled look at his serious expression. Her smile faded and she slowly came to stand beside him, wrapped one arm around his leg and leaned against him.
"The first name starts with two 'A's' and I don't know how to say that," Alexander's tone was impatient with frustration at not knowing and Ben smiled a small smile at how much he sounded like his father at that age.
"The second 'A" is silent..."
"Well if you don't say it, then why is it in there?" the boy shook his head in wonder at what he saw as another example of adult stupidity then went on, not waiting for an answer.
"Air...on..."
"That's close," his grandfather said. "But the 'r-o-n' sounds the same as 'run'."
"Oh..." Alex shook his head again and continued on to the next word. "Add...eye...son," he glanced u again. "That doesn't sound right."
"The 'I' in the middle is pronounced as 'uh'," Ben answered. "And I'm sure you know the next word." Alex nodded as he ran his eyes across the first line of the inscription.
"Then his name was...Aaron Addison Cartwright." The boy didn't wait for confirmation before starting on the next line.
"Be...love...ed...oh, I've heard that one before in church! It's 'beloved' isn't it?" he reached out to trace the word with his index finger.
"Yes it is."
"OK, the next word is 's-o-n' and that means 'son' so the next line says 'beloved son'."
Ben reached out to encourage his grandson by firmly squeezing his small shoulder. "Right!"
"I think I can read the whole thing now," Alexander said with an emphatic nod. "It says 'Aaron Addison Cartwright...beloved son...sleep little one, sleep', right Grandpa?"
"Very good son, yes it does."
"But what do these numbers mean?" the boy was now tracing the last line of the inscription with both hands and started slightly when Annalise spoke up.
"That says when he was bornded and when he died," she answered her brother's question in a small voice filled with sorrow as she tightened her hold on her grandfather's leg. Then she let out a small sob and pressed her face into the side of his thigh. Ben forgot all about the dirt on his hands and gently cupped the back of her small head.
"She's right Alex, that's what those numbers mean. They represent the dates of his birth and death."
"But...how come they're the same then?" The boy got to his feet and turned to face his grandfather.
"Because he was born and died on the same day."
Alex's eyes narrowed and his lips briefly pressed together in a grim line. "You mean he was a baby? Like Matthew...and Thomas...and Benny?"
Ben just nodded, silently waiting for the next question he knew would be coming, but Annalise provided the answer before the question could be asked.
"He was our brother," her voice was muffled against Ben's leg, "he was bornded first a long time ago." Alex's face turned bright red and Ben was shocked at the furious glare he turned her way.
"That's not true!"
"Yes it is."
"No it's not and Pa is gonna punish you for lying!"
"It is too true and I DON'T lie!" Annalise's face was still wet with tears as she turned her head to return her brother's angry stare.
The boy opened his mouth to argue the point further, but Ben broke in.
"Now that's enough you two, this is not the time or the place for an argument!" he said forcefully, but low, and both children gave him a startled look before hanging their heads. Sighing, he went down on one knee to gather them into his arms.
"Alex, I know this is a very hurtful thing, but your sister IS telling the truth and I'm surprised at you for accusing her of lying."
After wiping a few small tears away, Alexander kept his head down and looked at his sister through wet and spiky upper lashes.
"I'm sorry," he said with a tight throat and was visibly relieved when his sister gave him a small smile, forgiving him quickly and easily as usual.
Glad their little spat was over, Ben tightened his hold on them and stood, settling a child on each hip before turning and starting for the wagons where everyone was now waiting.
Having just given his father permission to explain to the twins about the brother they never knew they had, Adam returned to contemplating the grass- covered mound at his feet. He closed his eyes and continued going over his memories of the sad, tragic, and disturbed woman who had saved his son's life, tried to take his brother's, and sacrificed her own.
His concentration was so deep, he wasn't aware of Dylan coming to stand next to him until the younger man cleared his throat. He opened his eyes and waited, but didn't move.
"Refresh my memory...did you say you didn't recognize Joan in the Bentwood Junction jail because she had managed to disguise herself so well?" Adam nodded without lifting his eyes from the grave.
"I see...did she by any chance make herself look old?"
Adam nodded again and his eyes narrowed slightly, anticipating the other man's train of thought.
"Hmmm...and didn't you say you almost ran over an elderly woman when you were chasing the person who slipped that note from Hunter under the door at Eden House?"
The corners of Adam's mouth twitched, then lifted slightly as he silently nodded for the third time.
"I was just wondering Boss," Dylan continued, "because the night before Hunter torched that abandoned church in Earlystown we thought we heard someone at the door." He paused to dart a quick sideways look at the other man to gauge his reaction and was relieved, but not surprised, to see him grinning now.
"But when Stu looked, all he saw was what he took to be an elderly woman with white hair shuffling down the hall."
Shaking his head in wonder, Adam's grin widened into a smile.
"You know," the tall red-haired man went on, his voice ringing with admiration for the woman, "I'm pretty sure I got a brief look at her face a couple of days before the fire and those pale-blue eyes are all I can remember now."
Dylan took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the older man began to shake with barely audible laughter.
"Interesting chain of coincidence, don't you think?" he finished, and dared to clap one hand to the other man's back before walking away, smiling widely himself.
After wiping a few tears of laughter away, Adam sighed and his amused expression slowly faded.
"Ah Joan..." he said softly, a world of regret in his tone before he turned away to intercept his father and the twins on their way to the wagons.
When he reached them he was quick to correctly assess the situation and gave his father a grateful smile before putting a large hand on the back of each child's neck and dropping a kiss on the top of each small, sun-warmed head. The his brows rose slightly when he noticed signs of fatigue on his father's face.
"Would you do me a favor Pa, and let me drive the equipment wagon so you can keep these two with you?" he asked as he put one hand on Ben's back to steer him toward the wagonload of people.
His father slanted him a slightly suspicious look. "All right, but you'll have to hold them while I get in."
Adam started to reach for his children, but then stepped back when Hoss suddenly appeared.
"Don't worry about that Pa, just hang on to 'em tight," the big man interrupted with a laugh and lifted all three in. Still laughing, he put up the tailgate and went to take the reins as Ben sat down and settled the now heavy-eyed children into his lap.
Adam only paused long enough to give his wife a quick nod in answer to her inquisitive look before moving out of the way so Hoss could back the wagon up and turn it around. He watched it roll through the main gate and had to laugh with everyone else when Thea shouted, "Don't you dawdle now!" at the top of her voice.
In a few moments he pulled the horses up on the other side of the main gate where John was waiting to swing thm shut. The baby-faced deputy was still chuckling as he climbed up and sat down.
"You know, for such little woman Thea sure does have an impressive set of lungs!" he said then turned bright red when Adam burst out laughing.
"I didn't mean it that way!" he protested, horrified at having said something off-color, even though by accident.
"I know...I know," Adam assured his deputy as he released the brake and slapped the reins against the horses' backs. He laughed one more time before turning to give the mortified man sitting beside him a wicked smile as they started down the road.
"But seriously John, she really does, doesn't she?"
Ben leaned back against the side of the wagon and tightened his hold on the now sleeping children before closing his own eyes. Voices swirling around him faded into the background, and he found his thoughts turning back to the day when he had learned about the death of his first-born grandchild...
More than a month earlier, Ben and Hoss entered the Sage Brush and saw the deputies gathered at their "usual" table. The two men had just sat down when Joe hurried in. He came around the table to sit next to his father and all conversation stopped when they saw how upset he was.
Leaning forward to look at Hoss he said, "Did you ever tell Pa about Adam and Thea's first son?"
The big man blinked, obviously startled by the question. "Nope...thought you did."
Joe shook his head then turned to Ben. "I think Nate should tell you about it since he was the one who told us," he offered in an effort to make explanations short.
The blond-haired deputy leaned across the table, his deep-blue eyes met Ben's earnestly. "He was born months too soon Mr. Cartwright...the poor thing never even took a single breath."
"When did this happen?" Ben asked, his face having paled considerably.
"Not very long after they married – it almost destroyed them," Nate answered in a hushed voice.
"Do you remember when that was?" Joe asked him. "I mean what month?"
Nate thought for a moment then his eyes opened wide, "What's the date today?"
"October third," Joe answered.
"Damn that's the date, so today is the anniversary," Nate answered, clearly uneasy.
"Now this is finally making sense," Joe sighed then continued. "I ran into Dave Ross from the freight office and he was asking me a lot of questions about a small crate Adam picked up this morning." He turned back to his father, "He said it was listed on the paperwork as 'remains'."
Ben closed his eyes and his face tightened with pain for his own first born.
"I never thought he would actually do it," Nate breathed wide-eyed. "When he told me that he was going to have the child exhumed and re-interred when they had a permanent home he was so drunk I didn't think he'd even remember it, let alone do it."
"Adam was drunk?" Hoss asked in surprise.
"Just about as inebriated as I've ever seen anyone be and still be partially conscious," Nate answered. "He didn't actually pass out until I hot him home."
Hoss was obviously shaken to the core as he stared at his younger brother. "You mean he actually had that baby dug up and brought here?"
"That's what it looks like."
"But why?" The big man now also seemed bewildered.
Ben finally looked up, "When YOUR child is born and you become a father, you'll understand," he said, but not unkindly.
Hoss was nodding as his father stood, "Where you goin', Pa?"
"To the cemetery," the older man said quietly and started for the door. The rest of the men glanced at each other then got to their feet and hurried to follow. When they reached the cemetery, dismounted, and went through the gate they saw Adam standing next to a small, freshly filled-in grave. He stood with his back to them and a shovel lay on the ground at his feet.
Adam glanced over his shoulder at them, but then turned back without displaying any reaction at all to thier presence.
The men ranged themselves around the small mound and Adam still stood there with his earth-stained hands clasped in front of him, staring down at his first child's final resting place.
Ben was standing to his right and as the silence lengthened he looked at the small headstone topped by a carving of a small lamb. He winced, his heart aching as he read the name deeply etched into the stone. Then he put his head down and closed his eyes.
"I hope you all understand that I had to do this by myself. He is my son and I alone am responsible," Adam said in a hoarse, pained voice.
That startled everyone and they all looked to Nate who shook his head and mouthed the word "NO."
Adam continued, "I know you all want to help and I thank you, but I need to be alone for a while."
No one nodded or said a word, they just quietly walked away and Ben was the last to go. He had just stepped back when Adam said, "Pa, would you please wait for me in my office at home? I won't be much longer."
Ben put a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze as his answer. Then he moved away to join the others at the gate. But before he stepped through, he turned back to look at his eldest son. Adam stood motionless, straight and solid – his shoulders set and strong, bearing the incredible weight of his old wounds and his fresh grief.
Even while his heart bled, Ben felt a warm glow of admiration well up for his son's strength of character. He raised his eyes to the sky and sent an arrow prayer up to God.
"Please Lord, don't let him suffer over this any more," he said low, and then went through the gate to join the rest for the short ride back to town.
When Ben reached the house he noticed that Thea was sitting on the front porch swing watching him approach. She waved to him before he continued down the graveled drive then dismounted to lead his horse into the barn. He had a feeling he would be staying for a while.
"Pa! Come sit with me for a bit," Thea called to him in a slightly rough voice when he came around the corner of the house and into the front yard. When he reached her he could tell by her red eyes that she had been crying.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"No, but I will be," she said seriously as he sat next to her. Ben slipped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him with a sigh.
"Did you go to the cemetery?" she asked softly. He nodded. "Is he still there?" He nodded again.
"I dread this day every year, but I hope this will be the last one now that he's brought Aaron home." She shook her head.
"But isn't grief a natural and normal thing for him to be feeling?"
"Yes, but not this overwhelming guilt that rises up and practically chokes the life out of him." She shifted on the seat to lean back and met Ben's sorrowful gaze.
"You see, I keep telling him that nothing and no one could have saved our child, but he just continues to struggle and suffer." She shook her head again. "I just can't understand it and he refuses to talk about it."
"I don't understand it either. How could he possibly hold himself responsible for an act of nature?"
"I have no idea," Thea sighed.
They were both silent for a few moments then she spoke. "You know, I never even got to see him. I was unconscious when he was born and when I woke up in the hospital it was too late. Adam had to go through burying Aaron alone. Maybe if I had been there things might have been different." She made an impatient sound, "Oh Pa, I'm just so tired of this question and never having any kind of an answer. I'm so tired of seeing what it does to him every year, and frustrated at not being able to do anything about it. Sometimes I could just scream – scream and try to shake some sense into him."
"I'm so sorry, child. I wish I could take some of this burden for you."
"I know," she said and gave him a small smile. "Please don't think I'm being heartless, but as a doctor I can tell you some children are just not meant to be born. Something is not right from the very beginning and it's nothing anyone can see until it's over." She took a deep breath then let it out slowly as she stood and turned to look up the road.
"Well, he's probably going to be back soon so I should go inside. He doesn't like to be around anyone when he's going through this."
"Thea, he asked me to meet him in his office here."
She quickly swung around toward him, astonished. "He did!"
"Yes."
"Oh Sweet Lord! Then he's finally ready to talk about it," she said with both relief and unease in her voice. She looked at him earnestly, "Pa, I know you are a very intelligent man. Would you be offended if I offered you some advice about how to handle this?"
He smiled as he shook his head.
"Just let him talk and only ask him questions."
Ben thought about that for a moment then nodded. He opened his mouth to tell her that made good sense, but stopped when he spotted his eldest son coming. Thea glanced over her shoulder then turned back to quickly bend down and kiss him on the cheek.
"Maybe now that he has you back in his life he'll be able to put this behind him," she said low before hurrying into the house.
He slowly followed and had just entered the tower office by the inside door as Adam came in the outside door.
"Thank you for waiting."
Ben just smiled and remained silent as he settled himself in a deep armchair and Adam came to sit on the sofa directly opposite. He stared down at the floor for a moment and when he raised his head his father's face tightened at the pain he saw there. Then that look was gone
"Pa, I know Nate told you all 'no' when I said I was responsible for my son's death, but he's wrong. I AM responsible; my child is dead because of my actions."
Ben bit back a quick denial and tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact. "If being born too soon is not what killed him, then what did? And how could you possibly be responsible?"
"You want to know what killed my son? I'll tell you – my pride is what killed him."
"Your pride?"
Adam put a hand up and rubbed his forehead. "Yes, my pride. I made it clear to Thea before we were married that we would live on what I could provide. I was determined to never touch a penny of the fortune she inherited from her grandmother and father." He sighed.
"Pa, I knew something was wrong. Just like I knew the triplets would all be boys, and just like I knew something would go wrong with their births." He paused as he closed his eyes.
"I just knew, and I didn't follow my instincts. I did not swallow my pride, take some of that money, and see that my wife and child received the care they needed. That is why I am responsible and I'll have to live with that fact for the rest of my life." He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands as he continued.
"When Thea went into labor I was frantic, there was no time to send for help and when she became unconscious I almost panicked. He was born no more than two minutes later." He straightened up and held out a hand toward his father, palm up.
"I could almost hold that child in just one hand Pa, he was that small. He had no heartbeat and did not take one single breath, but he did open his eyes. I swear to you that he opened his eyes and he looked at me for just a second, then they closed and he went limp. I knew he was dead, but I tried everything I could think of – it made no difference."
"I still see those eyes," he went on in a deeply pained voice and bowed his head again. "They watch me in my dreams. They look at me out of the darkness when I can't sleep, and they always are saying the same thing. 'Why did you let me die?'"
"Have you ever told Thea this?" Ben asked gently, already knowing the answer.
"I can't." Adam answered him flatly then leaned back..
"Is that why you push her away every year? To keep her at a distance so she won't see what's tearing you up inside?"
Adam nodded then closed his eyes. "I can't stand the thought of my wife hating me and she will if I tell her the truth – the truth that I KNEW, but did nothing."
Ben's face tightened with anger. "That's not fair Adam, Thea would never hate you!"
"I keep telling you people that you don't know her as well as I do. You don't understand how unbending and unforgiving she can be."
"Maybe with other people, but never with you. You have to share this burden with her. If you don't, it will just keep getting worse and you'll end up with a wall of silence between you. You HAVE to tell her, son."
"Are you sure about that, Pa? Are you absolutely and without a doubt sure she will not turn her back on me?"
"Yes," Ben answered without a second's hesitation.
Adam sat up quickly and leaned forward toward his father, staring into his eyes intently. The certainty he saw there seemed to make up his mind. Without another word, he went to the office door, opened it and called his wife's name. Ben could hear her quick footsteps coming.
When she came into the room he stood saying, "I think I'll go look in on the children if you don't mind."
Thea nodded and gave him a grateful smile.
He glanced back as he went through the door and saw Adam pull her into his lap as he sat down. Ben sighed in relief.
Making his way upstairs he found the twins in the playroom in between their bedrooms. They greeted him with high excitement at his unexpected visit and each took one of his hands to tug him over to a double-sided easel so he could see what they had been drawing – their ponies.
Annalise's attempt was better than what one would expect from a five-year- old, but when he moved to the other side his eyes opened wide. Somehow Alex had managed to capture movement in his picture, the pony looked as though he would gallop off the page any second.
Ben bent down to examine it more closely and shook his head. The anatomy of the small horse was faithfully reproduced in detail, a very difficult thing for even an accomplished artist to achieve.
"This is very good Alex," he told his grandson quietly as Annalise came around to stand next to him.
"Alex can draw anything," she said proudly and hurried over to a cabinet. She opened the door, pulled out a sheaf of papers, and then hurried back to hand them to her grandfather.
He moved over to a small table and laid the papers down before going through them. He was astounded by what he saw. He hadn't expected that most would be portraits of family members and action scenes done from memory.
There was Joe lying in the snow with Thea sitting on him and shoving a handful of it in his face. The next was a head-and-shoulder's portrait of Annalise that captured the sweetness of her character. The boy had switched to watercolors to portray Hoss and Dora sitting together on the front porch swing. Hoss was laughing while Dora looked up at him with her charmingly cheeky grin.
Ben worked his way slowly down the stack, and when he reached the last one he almost gasped. Alexander had chosen his father for this picture and had drawn him with charcoal in a pose the boy no doubt had seen many times.
He had drawn his father in profile from the knees up and holding Benjamin closely cuddled up against his chest. Adam was looking down at the infant with all the love he felt for his child plainly written on his face, his large, strong hands conveying the impression of gentleness.
Alex had come to stand next to his grandfather as he went through the pictures and now he looked down into the boy's smiling face. "These are wonderful," he simply said and Alexander's smile widened.
"Do you want that one Grandpa?" he asked hopefully, as though testing the sincerity of his grandfather's statement.
"Yes," Ben said as he reached to put a hand on his grandson's head. "Yes, I would like that very much."
"That one's my favorite too," Annalise informed him, her emerald eyes still shining with pride in her brother's talent.
"I'm gonna do one of Ma like that, do you think you'd want that one too?" Alex was almost vibrating with excitement, pleased he could give his grandfather a present.
"I certainly would!" Ben said, and then laughed at how Alex wriggled like a puppy with pleasure.
"I'll start I right now!" the boy enthused and trotted over to the easel. He took the picture of the pony down and replaced it with a new piece of drawing paper. Picking up a stick of charcoal from the tray, he poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and began to draw, his brow furrowed in fierce concentration.
"I have something for you too, Grandpa," Annalise said low and went to the cabinet again. When she came back she handed him a small, clay figure. The figure was a man reclining with his knees drawn up, his hands clasped on his stomach, and his hat pulled low to cover most of his face. Ben had no trouble at all recognizing the man as Hoss. The details and the proportions of the body were all slightly exaggerated, like a very clever and subtle caricature.
"Did someone teach you how to do this?" he asked his granddaughter and she grinned as she shook her head.
"Well, thank you very much, this is wonderful." Her sweet face lit up with happiness and she threw her arms around his waist to hug him tight. Then she stepped back and tugged on his hand so he would bend down.
"I only draw to keep Alex company, he doesn't like to draw alone," she whispered into his ear then gave him another smile before skipping back to the other side of the easel.
Ben watched the two for a moment then left the room holding the drawing and the clay figure carefully. He went into the nursery next and placed them safely on the bureau before going to look at the babies. Matthew and Thomas were deeply asleep, but Benjamin was wide-awake and standing up his crib. He held onto the top bar of the crib side and grinned at his grandfather showing four small white teeth in front. Then he held his arms out demanding, "Up!"
He obligingly picked the child up and when he turned around he started in surprise to see his eldest son standing right behind him. Adam motioned toward the rocking chairs on the other side of the room.
When they were both seated Adam watched his father put the baby to his shoulder and begin to rock. Ben looked at him expectantly.
"How did it go?" he asked apprehensively then relaxed when his eldest son raised one eyebrow and smiled his half smile.
"You're not going to believe this...she told me I was being stupid."
"What?"
"She called me stupid, and out of all the reactions I expected that was not one of them. Thea still insists that if she didn't see or feel any signs of something being wrong then no other doctor would have either. And she's right – I WAS being stupid and I should have given her the same trust I've always demanded that she have in me."
Adam paused to sigh tiredly. "But you know how it is, your head tells you one thing, your heart tells you another."
His father just nodded. "You told her everything?"
"Everything."
"Good," was all Ben had to say then and the two men rocked in silence for a while.
"You know," Adam said softly, "I'm not only stupid, I'm selfish too."
His father gave him a questioning look.
"I have four healthy, intelligent sons and a beautiful, brilliant daughter, but that's not enough. I want Aaron too; I want all six of my children here."
"Why is that being selfish?"
"To wish him back from a place where I know there is no pain of any kind? From a place where he will never, ever feel anything but contentment?" Adam let out a small chuff of harsh laughter. "I consider that to be selfish, don't you?"
Ben shook his head, "Maybe so, but that's the way a father's heart is. That's the way a father's heart is supposed to be. We love our children and want what's best for them, but at the same time we never want to let them go."
Adam nodded and the two men exchanged a look of perfect understanding. Then they continued to rock in comfortable silence until Matthew woke from his nap and made his disgruntled mood known at the top of his voice.