The Haircut
Or,
A Day in Town
Part 2
by BeckyS
This story is written for pleasure, not profit.
The Cartwrights and the general circumstances belong to Bonanza Ventures.
Otherwise, © as allowable, May 2004
They dropped their shopping list off with Mr. Gordon for later pickup and then retrieved the mail for the ranch, and Adam only had to grab Joe by the collar twice — once to keep him from getting run down by the stage that was coming through on its morning run and the second time when he and the son of another rancher in town for the day almost tipped over a stack of paint tins as they played bank robbers.
Adam let him carry the packet of letters as they headed over to the feed store. He placed their order for some special grain he and Hoss had talked their father into trying on the horses and arranged to come back and pick it up later that week when it arrived from Sacramento. He then rescued the pile of mail from a barrel of seed where Joe had dumped it when he saw some brand new puppies trying to escape from the storeroom.
Their first conflict of the day began when Joe asked to stay with the puppies while Adam went to the lawyer's office.
"But, Adam, I'll be fine here. I can stay out of the way, and as soon as you're finished you just come back and get me." It seemed perfectly reasonable to him.
Just about any other child, and it would be a reasonable request. Even a good idea. But Adam knew all too well that although Joe had a heart of gold, no one could get into trouble faster and with such good intentions as his little brother.
"Nope, you just come along and be quiet, and I'll finish as fast as I can." He tried to herd Joe out the door, but Joe slipped under his arm and ran back to the storeroom. "Joe!" Adam called. "Get back here."
"Just a minute, I have to make sure they're all in their box."
Adam leaned against the doorframe, trying not to tap his foot. "Now, Joe."
"Oh, all right." He dragged over to his brother. "But I don't see why I can't—"
Adam gave him a friendly swat and guided him out the door. "Because we're staying together today, little brother. Just the two of us."
Joe perked up. "That's right. Just the two of us." And he held himself as tall as he could and stretched his legs to try to match his brother's long stride.
The meeting dragged on much longer than Adam had anticipated as he found himself embroiled in a discussion over some technical points in the papers he'd come to pick up. He'd taken a quick look at them, but something didn't seem quite right and one question led to another. By the time he'd gotten across to Bill Stewart what his father wanted and asked the lawyer to redo the papers, Joe had obviously run out of patience. He was no longer seated in the outside office.
Adam groaned.
"It's not that bad," said the lawyer. "Just come by last thing before you leave town, and I'll have them ready for you."
"That's not the problem," he said, and rubbed his forehead.
Stewart cast a quick look around the office, as well, and smiled sympathetically. "Your brother."
"My brother."
"I wish you luck," he said, clapping him on the back.
"Thanks. I'm going to need all I can get." He grabbed his hat and the packet of mail and headed out to begin his search.
He didn't have to look far. As he suspected, Joe had gone back to Miller's Feed and Grain to play with the puppies. Even if he hadn't thought to look there, he would have suspected his brother's presence just by the smiling faces leaving the store. The sound of Joe's laughter simply confirmed it. He entered the cool dark building again and leaned against the door of the storeroom, enjoying the sight of his little brother rolling on the floor with little dogs climbing all over him.
Joe looked up with trepidation that quickly turned back to a grin when he saw the smile on his brother's face. Adam could be a real stick-in-the-mud sometimes, but when he was feeling playful, Joe loved being with him more than just about anyone. Joe climbed to his feet and handed one of the puppies to him.
Adam held it close to his chest, and his eyes softened as he stroked the black and tan pup, offering it his complete attention.
Joe looked up at him hopefully. "Mr. Miller says they're ready to leave their mama."
Adam raised an eyebrow. "Oh, he does, does he?" He looked back at the pup who was nuzzling at his shirt collar, trying to see if there was anything interesting underneath.
Joe was quick to notice the longing in Adam's expression. He looked down at the floor, trying to hide a grin. "Hoss's birthday is coming up . . ." Surely that would be an acceptable reason to take the dog home.
"Oh, I don't know . . ."
"C'mon, Adam. It's the perfect gift for him. Besides, every boy should have a dog." Joe conveniently failed to mention that his middle brother, at almost sixteen, would vehemently deny being a boy.
Adam suddenly remembered a puppy he'd wanted desperately when he and his father were just starting out on their trip west with the wagon train from St. Joseph. Even at six years of age he'd known better than to ask, but his Pa must have seen something in his expression because he'd put an arm around his shoulders and ever so gently turned him away.
He stroked the pup's long, soft ears between his fingers and ruthlessly pushed his sensible conscience aside. Hoss wasn't going to have to grow up without a dog, like he had. "All right, find out how much Mr. Miller wants for him."
"Yippee!" yelled Joe.
The pup reached up and licked Adam on the nose, just like he knew he was now part of the family. "I'm sure I'm going to regret this," he smiled ruefully.
They left the dog at Mr. Miller's until they were ready to go home, Adam squelching Joe's protests by reminding him that Sam wouldn't let an animal within twenty yards of his bakery. That made three stops they had to make just before leaving town: the General Store for their supplies, the lawyer, and now the dog.
As they settled into their chairs in the dining area of the small restaurant, Adam silently congratulated himself on how well the day was going. No disasters so far. He sniffed appreciatively at the aromas emanating from the kitchen and smiled when Suzanne brought him a cup of coffee without being asked. She set a glass of milk in front of Joe, and when he started to protest she silenced him with a quick, whispered, "For dipping the ladyfingers."
Joe grinned up at her and didn't even protest when she ruffled his curls, saying, "Such a big strong boy you're getting to be."
Adam gazed at his brother thoughtfully, reminded he somehow had to get those curls shortened. Joe caught his glance and scowled.
"I ain't gettin' no haircut," he stated.
Adam's heart sank. "Who said anything about a haircut?"
"I can see what you're thinking."
"Oho, so now you're a mind-reader?"
"Uh-huh. And I ain't gonna do it."
Adam leaned back in his chair and studied his youngest brother. His fellow classmates back East had sworn that no one was more stubborn than Adam Cartwright, but they'd never met Little Joe. He tried to remember any instances in Boston where he'd backed down once he'd taken a position. He chuckled. It hadn't happened often.
"Don't laugh at me," pouted Joe.
He raised a hand in denial. "I was laughing at me, not you."
Joe's face relaxed and returned to its normal inquisitiveness. "About what?"
Adam propped his elbows on his table, rested his chin on the backs of his hands and studied Joe. His brother was distracted for the moment while Suzanne brought over a plate of the delicious little cakes and set them right in front of him. Adam reached across the table for a couple, setting one on the saucer for his coffee. He chewed thoughtfully on the other while he wondered if he should really tell his little brother what he was thinking, or if it would just set a bad example. But the last time he'd rebelled and someone had successfully talked him out of the course he'd decided to take, they'd succeeded only because they'd talked to him with honesty and had used reasoned argument. He smiled. Maybe that was the only way to find out what was going on in the imaginative brain that was hiding behind those bright green eyes. "I was just trying to remember the last time I did something once I'd set my mind against it."
Joe grinned. "Oh, I can tell you that. When Pa told you not to go hunting last week because the fence needed work." He reached for another ladyfinger and almost upset his milk, but Adam caught it just in time and moved it a little farther from the edge of the table without comment.
"You're right," he laughed. "But if we don't count Pa..."
"I can't believe you'd do anything you didn't want to," Joe said with childish envy for his oldest brother's grownup status.
"Oh, I have, believe me."
"Like what?"
"Well, going to bed, for one thing."
"But you go to bed when you want to. Pa doesn't tell you."
Adam sighed. "I tell myself. And that's harder."
"What do you mean?"
"Take last night. I wanted to finish reading a chapter in that new book I have, The Count of Monte Cristo." He leaned forward suddenly, and his face came alive as he launched into a description of the story. "Edmund Dantes was trying to escape from prison in a burial sack. You see, his friend had just died and he knew the guards would take the body outside to bury it. He figured he could switch places, and then dig his way out of the grave before he suffocated. He hid his friend in his bed under his blankets and climbed into the sack and it worked. The guards took him; but then they tied something heavy around his feet and tossed him in the ocean instead!"
Joe leaned forward onto the table, the last half-eaten ladyfinger forgotten in his hand. "What happened? Did he escape?"
Adam sighed in frustration. "I don't know. Right then the clock chimed and reminded me what time it was. I knew I had to get up this morning, and I couldn't be all worn out today, so even though I wanted to stay up, I had to send myself to bed."
Joe's eyes were round with wonder. "Wow. I never thought about it that way."
"How do you think Pa learned to get things done on time?"
Adam could practically see the thoughts turning in the boy's head. He finally looked up. "His Pa?"
Adam nodded. "And Captain Stoddard, my grandfather, when he was on board ship." He shuddered at the thought of having to work for the Captain. As his only grandchild, Adam had usually been able to wheedle the old man into approving — or at least ignoring — most of his adventures, but once or twice he'd crossed the line and had found out quickly enough that the old sailing master was no pushover.
"Grandfather's a tough old man, Joe, and I'd say he's mellowed since Pa worked for him. I can't imagine there was much in the way of slacking off on the ship. So you see, we all have to do things we don't want to do."
"Well, I ain't gettin' no haircut," Joe said, a stubborn glint in his eyes. He finally remembered the last treat and stuffed it into his mouth, mumbling, "It'll ruin things."
Interesting. That was the first time Joe had given even a hint of a reason for his obstinate attitude. Adam casually drank some more coffee. "Ruin things?" he asked quietly, more determined than ever to get at the root of Joe's haircut problem.
But Joe had turned thoughtful again. "Do they have books like that here in town?"
"Like what, buddy?" he asked, allowing himself to be temporarily sidetracked.
"Excitin'. With lots going on. And heroes and escapes and stuff."
"Well, I don't know." He considered the collection he'd seen at Whittaker's Mercantile last time he'd been in. There might be something there to tempt a boy of Joe's age to read.
Joe stood up, impatient again. "Let's get going, Adam. I want to hurry up so we can go get Samson."
"Samson?" said Adam, confused.
"The dog, Adam, the dog," Joe said with disdain for his brother's defective memory.
"Oh, right," Adam said. He got up and tossed some coins on the table. "Isn't he a little small for that name?"
"Small don't mean nothin'," Joe said. "Someone can be small and still be brave and strong."
Adam looked down at his brother thoughtfully, then put an arm around his shoulders. "They sure can," he said. "Samson it is."