Thank you to those who are reading. I know this may seem drawn out but the friendship between Adam and Ross must be established so that the final act can be seen for what it really is. And although I dislike tacking this on, it is necessary; all guest reviews will be removed. And I am still not receiving notifications of my new chapters being posted or of any reviews.

ix

It took two trips to the Virginia City Bank and at least a week for me to balance the ledger, or at least to give it some semblance of reconciliation. I told my father there was about a hundred dollars that couldn't be accounted for and he'd have to accept it. He fussed about it but I shrugged it off; I had done what I could. But at least working on the books had been a diversion from my thoughts and what I had seen, or thought I had seen, outside in the darkness.

I finally remembered about the elk tracks, where I had heard similar talk; it was from Dell. Her father had died in the midst of such tracks. They had been too large for a buck, the right size for an elk, but in this area of the territory, elk were rare. Had Mr. Watkins seen what I had, an elk's head on the shoulders of a man's body covered in hair and having a thick ruff of fur. Did the legs end in sharp hooves? Had the man faced his death, looked it in the eye while his body was being trampled, his lungs crushed? I could imagine the look of horror he wore when he was found and kept until he died.

I had only imagined the elk man as there was no other explanation, but for a time, no matter where I went, I was home before dark. I knew I was being childish, scolded myself repeatedly but it took a few weeks for me to be comfortable outside after the sun went down. But still, every sound was a horrendous creature lurking among the trees, watching and waiting patiently. I even dreaded walking out to the barn after dark but I saw nothing or heard nothing and eventually, convinced myself it was the transition back to the wilderness after the city life of Boston and the constant companionship of other students that made my imagination run wild. I know the tricks the mind can play and often, it's difficult to recognize reality from one's dreams.

After what my father had told me about the ceremony with the Paiutes and his belief in the ancestral evils that were still waiting for their time to come again, I asked him if he would tell me more; I was curious, I said. But he only laughed nervously and said I shouldn't listen to the mumblings from someone who had been half-asleep. We said no more about it.

After three weeks, I took a buckboard loaded with milled Ponderosa pine, a keg of nails, a lunch basket filled with Hop Sing's food, and followed by two ranch hands, headed to Ross'. He was happy to see us and showed me the lumber he had purchased, the steel brackets he had stacked in the corner of the house and the shingles.

"I spent all but $32.00, Adam. But on my own, I've managed to keep the herd together. Well, almost."

So, for a little over a month, I split my time between the Walking M and the Ponderosa. The two hands I had taken to Ross' stayed in the bunkhouse, eventually hiring on, and they never said anything about creatures stalking them or reported anything unusual at all. They helped with the herd and also with the building. Orson, almost 50 years, found out he had a natural talent for building and enjoyed seeing the house rise before his eyes, said it gave a man a feeling of satisfaction to create something of use. But Nate, the other ranch hand, barely 30 years old, said he was damn tired of hammering his thumb instead of the nail. He chose to hold the supports or joists, while we pounded in the nails. I must admit, it was thrilling to see my vision become reality and Ross' gratitude was payment enough. He said he'd be forever in my debt and if I wanted, just to name my price, he'd pay it.

"No, you owe me nothing," I said. "I've drawn up plans, built miniatures for professors to grade but this—this is the real thing. Finally, I can see that my ideas work." I stood looking at the house. It was now completed but I had allowed for another room to be added to the main section should Ross and Delphine choose to expand it. Only the inside needed finishing but Delphine would add her touch there, add any decorative spindles and portieres between major rooms, choose drapes and curtains for the windows. The windows- those had been the most trying, making certain they were level and well-seated.

Ross stood beside me as I admired my creation, but I realized he was looking at me, not at the house. "I guess you're proud," he said.

"What?" His remark threw me. I suddenly realized how I was coming off, as pompous and possibly arrogant. But it was the child of my mind, my creativity.

"Guess now you have proof of how smart you are and can tell Delphine that she has such a nice house 'cause of you."

"No, I…" I stammered. "Ross, I'm sorry if I…"

He put a hand on my arm. "No, Adam. I'm sorry. I guess I sound ungrateful and I'm not, it's just that I owe you so much—practically everything. There's no way I can pay you back—ever-and that's a hard thing for a man to swallow."

"But, Ross, I don't expect or need you to pay me back!"

"I know," he said, "and that's the worst part." He walked away to help Orson and Nate clean up and heft the left-over planks to the barn where rain wouldn't ruin them. And I was left to mull over what he had said. Yes, I had too much, wanted to give to others, to my friends, but I hadn't thought about being on the receiving end. How would I feel to be given and given things with nothing expected in return? Children glory in that but a man—no, that humbled a man and took away his dignity. And that was what I had done. In my efforts to help Ross, to make up for all he had suffered and struggled to achieve, because I loved my friend and wanted to help him, I had unintentionally put him in a submissive position. I determined that from then on, I would temper my generosity. A man wanted to succeed on his own, not through the largesse of others.

I still had much to learn about dealing with others despite my education; there was no class, no lessons taught for that. I'd have to muddle through on my own and hope I didn't lose a friend in the process.

~ 0 ~

While we were building the rest of the house and after a lunch of Hop Sing's roast beef and mustard between thick slices of sourdough bread, large wedges of apple pie, and a gallon jar of lemonade, Ross, Orson and Nate lay in the shade, hats pulled over their eyes, and took a siesta. I told them I was taking a short walk to help my digestion; Hop Sing's food was too good and I ate too much to be comfortable. But what I wanted was to visit the cave alone.

It wasn't too far, about thirty yards away. The elk man was still fresh in my mind and I felt my anxiety rising as I neared the cave. My father's words, "they should be destroyed," rang in my ears. And then I was there. I had been uneasy over nothing. The carvings were the same as the last time I'd seen them, the man with the elk head stood frozen in the same place, the hunter and the deer woman was still there, the snake, the crouching wolf-like creature—all of them were there, locked into stone forever. I shook my head. There was nothing to inspire any fear but yet…I was uncomfortable. I stooped and looked into the cave. A lantern was sitting inside the mouth. Ross must keep it there and I wondered how often he went inside.

I picked up the lantern, raised the chimney and struck a match, lighting it. The warm glow was comforting and steeling myself, I went inside. There were more carvings, more petroglyphs on the walls. These were more graphic yet crudely done—two creatures, the male mounting her in the manner of four-legged beasts, her long hair hanging about her face. Here was a carved image of a vivisected man, his heart outside him. A decapitated head was carved, blood flowing out and a large dragon-like creature was coiled, its maw gaping, intent on swallowing a human. And running through them all was a thick vein of silver where an attempt had been made to dislodge it, destroying many of the images.

I saw some places further in, where at some time, a miner had attempted to remove the blue ore, probably with a small charge of dynamite. Crumbled rocks, blown from the wall, lay in a pile blocking further passage. I placed one hand against the cave wall, craning my neck to see past when I felt sudden cold surround me; something was watching me. I turned and a blur rushed past me, knocking me off my feet. There was a sharp pain in the back of my head and that was all until I came to, lying outside the cave with Ross and Nate standing over me.

What the hell happened?" Nate asked.

"You okay, Adam?" Ross asked. "We came looking for you. You must've hit your head; it'd bleeding some."

I groaned and touched my head. "Ah…I think I tried to stand up inside. Knocked myself out." I slowly sat up, Ross helping me. He kneeled beside me.

"What were you doing in there?" He looked concerned.

"I was curious about the veining, wondered how far back it went."

"Your damn lucky the lamp didn't break when you fell; you could have set yourself on fire."

"You thought of closing that place off?' I asked.

"Why? Not too many nosy parkers about here? Just you, boy."

I chuckled and stood up, wavering a bit. Ross grabbed my arm. "Why don't you take it easy," Ross said. "You just supervise us for the rest of the day, you know, too far to the left, too far to the right." Nate agreed and the three of us went back to find Orson still snoring. Nate woke him and for the rest of the day, they worked and I told myself that I had an imagination gone wild. And if I wasn't careful, I'd kill myself.

~ 0 ~

Ross and Delphine often came for dinner after church, but for Delphine, it was a standing invitation. My father would stop the buckboard at the end of the dirt street as he had done when I squired Dell to church, but this time, it was Joe who jumped down and hurried to the house to escort her back. It wouldn't have been politic to send me. She would sit between me and my father who would ask her how her week had been and Delphine would entertain with little tales of all that had happened the past week at Gillis' store. Delphine enjoyed her times with us; she had confided to me that Sunday was the worst day of the week to be alone. Everyone else seemed to have a family except for her and she longed to marry and have a husband and children. She wanted to be one of the happy families she saw take up almost a whole length of the pew. I wanted to tell her that the appearance may not be the reality but I couldn't be that cruel. Let her have her dreams.

Every Saturday evening, Hop Sing left for Chinatown, not to return until Monday morning. Since there were no chores, it being Sunday, the day of rest, Delphine often brought the dessert for the dinner of sliced cold ham, cold fried chicken or roast beef, Hop Sing's version of German potato salad and sliced bread and fresh butter. On the way out of town, we would stop and Hoss would hop out of the buckboard to safely escort Delphine to her kitchen and make sure she and the covered basket made it back to the wagon. As we'd be riding home, Hoss would try to guess what sweet was hidden under the napkin. Little Joe, usually pretending to eschew such a juvenile interest in cakes and pies, often chimed in, mainly to prove he could "out-sniff" Hoss. They would argue about smelling vanilla or peaches, apples or cinnamon. Joe was once fooled by rutabagas but claimed it wasn't fair. And Hoss always knew when it was a jelly roll. "They's just somethin' 'bout that strawberry jelly… Or maybe it's 'cause it's my favorite that I'm always lookin' for it. But, Miss Delphine, a slice of your jelly roll and a glass of cold milk, that's heaven to me," Hoss had once told Delphine, to her delight.

Pa told her a few times that she needn't supply a dessert, but Delphine said it was the least she could do, as she couldn't host us all or feed us all. But once she was the mistress of the Walking M, she'd fix a grand feast for the whole Cartwright clan and bake a jelly roll for Hoss alone. My father understood that courtesy went both ways and that it is also gracious to receive, even if it is only thanks. I had trouble learning that.

~ 0 ~

Once the house was finished, Ross told us as we sat about the dining table, that he and Delphine had decided the wedding was to be in three weeks and although it was going to be small and held in the clerk of courts office. They hoped we would all attend.

"I have a wonderful idea," my father said with an excitement he rarely exhibited, "let's have it here! I mean with…well, your loss, Dell, you can dress upstairs and we can bring the minister out and have both the wedding and the reception here. Why not?"

Delphine glowed with happiness. "Oh, Mr. Cartwright, that would be wonderful! I wouldn't invite more than twenty people, just the people from church and those who are so kind when they come into Gillis' store. I've met so many good people working there and they're always asking about the wedding, when I'm going to have the banns read…"

"No," Ross said to Delphine. Her face fell and she blushed, placing her hands in her lap. "We can't allow that, Mr. Cartwright. We'll have it at the courthouse as we planned. If Dell wants to invite anyone back to her house for a reception, that'll have to do." His face was tight; I knew he was embarrassed at my father's generosity.

My father was uncomfortable as well but he wanted to do it. "Ross, I've been planning on having a wedding here for a long time but none of my boys are marrying any time soon. It would give me so much pleasure to do this for you and Delphine. This house is aching to be filled with a joyous occasion, filled with happy people. Please, Ross, don't deny me this pleasure. After all," he added, "I wouldn't know what else to give you as a wedding gift and I've known Delphine since she was a , skinny girl with big teeth and would come to church with us." My father neglected to mention that Delphine came as my guest all that year. She and I exchanged looks. But Ross didn't notice and instead, considered what my father had said and then my father added. "Delphine has no father and I have no daughter. It would give me such pleasure."

Delphine reached out and took Ross' hand. "Please, Ross."

"Well, I suppose if it'll make Delphine happy…" Ross knew not to push the matter; it was better just to give in.

Delphine smiled and she and my father, right there at the table, began making plans. But Ross sat silent, morose and I knew he wasn't happy.

"How about a whiskey?" I asked Ross while Hoss joined in the wedding discussion about layer cakes; he had many opinions on various flavors.

Ross looked at me, his eyes a steely blue, "You should know better than to give an Indian whiskey, Adam. It makes us wild, go on the warpath, remember?" He rose from the table and walked out of the house.

Delphine looked after him and then turned to me. "Adam?"

"Let him go, Dell. He needs to be alone. I'll drive you home."

My father didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Delphine. I didn't mean to interfere."

"You didn't, Pa," I said. "Ross'll be all right. It'll just take him time. His pride's so huge that it can only be swallowed in small gulps."

The drive home allowed Delphine to confide in me. "Adam, Ross was so proud of the completed house. He took me inside, said that it was mine and that I could make it into anything I wanted. I could choose the wallpaper, any paintings, gee-gaws—vases or statues—anything I wanted. We talked about becoming wealthy one day, having a large herd of fine beef and…he wants so much to have a good, working ranch. To be respected."

"I know. He wants to have a reputation hereabouts, for people to say 'that's Walking M beef, the finest meat on the hoof." Ross is…he has quite a bit of pride, you know."

"Yes, Adam. I know that. But is that any excuse to be so unkind, ungrateful and rude to your father and to you. I mean you've always tried to help him, to help us."

"I think that's the problem. I've helped too much, almost forced my generosity on him. I know it sounds odd, but…if I were Ross, I think I'd feel the same way. My father only wants to be generous, feels that having all that we do, we, the Cartwrights, the all-mighty and wealthy Cartwrights, should help our lesser neighbors."

"Adam, I don't see it that way."

"No," I said with a wry smile, "but Ross does."

Delphine and I discussed a few other matters pertaining to the house and I hoped she wouldn't complain about the mine's proximity; after my experience, I wouldn't be able to defend it. She didn't and instead, became maudlin, talking about the old days when she and I were young and seeing one another, practically courting, and how our lives had changed since then. I snapped the reins and the horse stepped it up but she went on about her parents and pulled out a hanky to dab her eyes. I never know what to do when a woman cries but at least I had the excuse of holding the reins; I wouldn't have to put an arm about her to offer comfort. Dell chided herself for her tears and said that I must be wishing I'd never offered to drive her.

"Let's change the subject, Adam. You've never told me how school was. Were you happy there?""

I was flooded with relief that now we had a subject I could control and assured Dell that I was indeed happy there and went on about my classes, my studies, told her some humorous anecdotes involving a few pranks I'd pulled on Adrien and in retribution, the ones he pulled on me. I then told her about the ones he and I pulled together on some hapless student. I exaggerated some details and Dell was soon laughing We made it to her house at the end of the dirt road before dark.

I pulled the buggy up to the front of the house and we both went silent. The front door looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. There were places where the wood had indentations and some of the wood was splintered.

"Adam…what…I don't understand."

"Stay here," I said, stepping on the brake. I grabbed the rifle from behind my seat where I had stowed it and jumped down. Even in the failing light, I could see that all about the yard were deer tracks. I stepped on to the porch. Dirt and grass were on the steps and boards as if fallen from the small hooves. I looked around, listened, but heard nothing. I ran my fingers over the places where the wood had been splintered but the door hadn't given way. And I thought of Mrs. Watkins and what Delphine had said about the deer tracks in the yard. I felt the familiar chill run down my spine and my stomach tightened.

"Adam?" she called. "What is it?"

I forced a smile as I headed back; I couldn't tell Dell what I really feared, that some entity from Indian mythology, a "thing" that lived frozen on the rockface of the cave she hated so much, had pulled from the rock, taken the form of a deer and tried to kick down her front door to get to her, to kill her as it had her mother.

"Nothing, really, but it looks like some deer became caught on your porch and panicked, kicked at the door." I stood by her as she sat and she made to step down as she sighed in relief and said, 'good.' But I stopped her.

"The door doesn't look too safe; its integrity is at risk. Is there anywhere else you can stay tonight? I can come out and hang a new door tomorrow. Don't the Gillis' have some precut stacked in the back?"

"Well, yes but…"

"I'll put this lockset on the new door and it'll be good as new. Okay?" I smiled but I felt my lips, stretched out into a grin, quiver. "Now, have you any friends in town where you can stay the night?"

Delphine frowned. "No, not really. I mean most of the women I know are already married, have children and no spare beds. And I couldn't impose on the Gillises. I'll be all right here, Adam. I'll just push the sofa in front of the door."

I knew that I'd have to offer the Ponderosa. I did and Dell accepted. But the ride back was different than the ride out. Dell barely talked and we rode in silence which was just as well as I had the rifle propped up beside me, glancing about, listening for odd sounds, fearful I would see something I'd rather not.