I credit Ward Hawkins for his excellent dialogue in the episode, "The Dark Gate" and I have quoted some of it in this section and taken creative liberties with a bit of it.
xiii
That spring round-up, the Ponderosa came up short almost 500 head. Hoss speculated that we'd lost more to the black leg than we'd thought but I hadn't even seen a set of horns or scattered bones to indicate such. Just one carcass. But I knew that often a wolf pack's kill or a bear's was dragged away after they had sated their initial hunger, so I didn't argue with him about the reason, that the loss may have been due to predators. But I had looked in every gorge and searched every bluff and there were no more cattle to be found up that high.
My father was worried and Hoss and I knew it. Even Joe, who cut out the calves to bring in for branding, noticed the year's lack. My father took me aside on the pretense of fresh coffee, and asked if I'd ride to Ross', telling him we had some of his herd mixed in with ours; after all, the upper pastures weren't fenced and cattle tended to mingle when driven into the high ground.
"We don't have any of his cattle," I said. "No one's reported coming across the Silver Dollar brand."
"Well, we might. Besides, we need help," he said. "We're still short and the cattle have to be somewhere!"
"You're a conniving old pirate," I told him but he only smiled.
There was no one about at Ross', at least not that I could see or hear. I tied off my horse and stood on the porch, looking about. It seemed the ranch hands were gone, probably on spring round-up. It was only to be expected but the place was eerily quiet. Then I realized I heard no birdsong. Even the wind was dead.
I opened the front door and passing through the vestibule, called out, "Hey, Ross! Dell? Hey, Skinny! Where the hell are you?" I waited. Silence. And you know that feeling, that atavistic prickling on the back of your neck signifying someone's watching you, stalking you? Well, I turned and Ross stood a few yards behind me, pointing his gun at me. He wasn't smiling. He must have been standing in the shadows when I entered, waiting for the advantage.
"Okay," I said, trying to make a joke, "You look as tough as a year in jail and the bore of that gun looks as big as a rain barrel. Starting out by robbing all the men and kissing all the women?" Ross said nothing, did nothing. "You got a reason for holding that gun on me? Speak up or put it down. You're not being very funny."
"Why'd you come here, Adam?"
"I come looking for you, you big skinflint. Pa said if you'd come help us with round-up, we'd help you. Besides, we've a few head of your cattle mixed in ours. Now, what's wrong with that?"
"Because it's a lie, that's what's wrong with it." He came into the light and slowly stepped sideways, circling me, moving toward the side of the room and I moved about as well, keeping my eyes on his gun; it was a macabre dance. "You didn't come here to see me. You came to see Delphine. Figured I'd be out on the range someplace."
"What are you talking about?" I kept my eyes on him, watching the gun as well.
"About you and my wife."
"Ross, will you make sense?" It was odd when he spoke, like a reverse masquerade. We'd have those balls in college and the object was to hide your identity with a fantastical costume. And when you'd speak to another, by the voice, you'd know the person inside the costume and yet the outward appearance was that of a stranger. It disorients and turns the familiar into something bizarre. That was how it was with Ross as he talked to me. It looked like Ross, it sounded like Ross and yet, it wasn't the friend I'd known for so long; he wasn't there.
"You've been meetin' her here. I know all about it." He menaced me with the weapon.
"You're not serious. Now, what are you trying to say?"
"That you're in love with her—trying to take her away from me."
"Well, of all the dirty, rotten…" I started to approach him but stopped when he cocked the trigger. I didn't want to pull my gun, to force him to act; I hoped to intimidate him with sheer audacity. I pointed my finger at him and threatened, "Boy, you put away that gun or I'm going to take it away from you and bend the barrel over your thick skull."
And that was when he fired. The bullet skimmed my left arm, tearing my shirt, creasing my flesh and shattering a vase behind me. Delphine came flying through from another room, crying, "No! Ross, no!" She ran to him and Ross slung her aside. She fell to the floor at my feet. I helped her up.''
Ross snarled, "My best friend and my wife. Now that's something to think about." He slowly sat at the table, pleased with himself.
"Dell, what's wrong with your face?" Looking at her, I noticed her left cheek and jaw were bruised and her lower lip split at one corner.
"Nothing. I'm all right." She tried to pull away but I gripped her jaw and looked at Ross.
"Did you do this?"
"You bet I did."
I released Delphine who practically shook with fear. "Ross," I said approaching him as he sat, the table between us, "we've been friends for 15 years. I handed you the ring at your wedding. This girl is your wife. You've told me a thousand times how much you love her."
"She admitted it was true," he spat.
"Dell?" I turned to her. It was incredulous she would say such a thing.
"It's a lie, Adam. A lie. I told him it was a lie, I told him over and over it was a lie but he wouldn't believe me, wouldn't stop hitting me. He kept hitting me and hitting me and I couldn't stand it anymore so I told him it was true. I'm sorry, Adam! I'm so sorry!" She wept.
I placed both hands on the table and dropped my head, muttering, "Oh, Ross." Then I pulled up on the table, overturning it and knocking Ross, chair and all, over. The gun fired as Ross landed on his back and before he could recover, I grabbed his shirt front and struck him with my fist. He went limp which surprised me. Once, he and I had been in a saloon fight that had spilled out onto the street and Ross constantly rose to his feet to take more blows and hopefully, land a few himself. And after Sheriff Coffee arrested us and tossed us in a cell, I told Ross he was crazy—he should have just stayed down, but he joked he had so many teeth that he could stand to lose a few. And here, now, he had lost consciousness after one blow and as I moved him, telling Delphine to bring me something to tie him with, Ross' body seemed almost unsubstantial, as if only part of him was there.
I tied Ross' hands behind his back with one of the drapery cords and told Delphine to pack a bag, she would stay at the Ponderosa. I'd take care of Ross. Dell protested, saying she couldn't take advantage of our friendship, but I insisted. "Hop Sing's gone to San Francisco for two weeks—there's a naming ceremony for some cousin's baby and you can help out while he's gone. You'll earn your keep."
I saddled a horse for Delphine and once she came out, I asked how long Ross' aberrant behavior had been going on.
"Months." She seemed almost embarrassed.
"Why haven't you told me about it?"
"Well, it hasn't been bad until recently. I kept thinking he'd get over it, that it was just money worries and the herd and then…my miscarriage but he just keeps getting worse. I'm frightened, Adam."
"I know Ross like I know the inside of my hat. I just can't believe he'd act like this."
"Neither can I. Sometimes, well, he seems almost mad, as if…Adam, remember what I told you about the cave and Ross and..."
"Yes, Dell. I remember. Well, there's something's wrong, that's for sure. But there's probably a very rational reason as you said, the herd and the loss—it was just him for so many years and now he has all this responsibility…."
"Adam, I wouldn't blame you for forsaking us, not after what he said."
"Regardless, he's my friend. Now, let me handle this."
Once I saw Delphine off, I went back inside and Ross had recovered, sitting up, angry. "What're you doing to me? Untie me."
I helped him stand. "I'll untie you. Just want to see if you're thinking straight first. Sit down." I practically forced him into a wingback chair while he professed he was thinking straight.
I picked up the upturned chair and turning it about, sat down. "All right, do you understand why Dell's going to stay at the Ponderosa with us for a few days?"
"Yes. She stopped by to tell me goodbye."
"What got into you, Ross? I mean how could you do a thing like that?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's a good idea she gets away for a while."
"I'm sure that'll be for the best." I stood up and untied his hands. "I'll stop by in a couple of days and we'll talk." I started to leave but Ross spoke up.
"Oh, Adam. You've got my gun."
"That's right, I have." I didn't want to give it back to him but he was Ross now, the same Ross I'd know for years now. Or so he seemed.
"Well, I'd like it back." He spoke as if it was only natural that I give him his weapon even after he had fired it at me.
I paused, and despite my better judgment, I handed it over, butt first, and as I walked to the door, I fully expected to feel a blast hit my back before I touched the door handle. But nothing happened and I rode for home, catching up with Dell and accompanying her the rest of the way down.
~ 0 ~
"Pa, I had no choice but to bring her home with me; I couldn't leave her there. No saying what Ross might do." I sat on the low table and my father, pipe in his hand, sat opposite me in his favorite chair, musing.
"I agree, Adam, especially after he took a shot t you. Delphine needs to stay away from Ross for a while. I just can't believe it of Ross." He pulled on his pipe. Then he smiled while releasing the smoke. "But it'll be nice having a woman around though." He chuckled. "Did you see how Hoss and Joe hot-footed it when she told them to take off their boots at the door and wash their hands and scrub their nails before dinner?"
It had been funny and I had to laugh again as well. Hoss had looked stunned and Joe actually blushed at being chastised and answered with a meek, "Yes, ma'am."
"But, Adam, this business with Ross… I don't know Delphine should ever go back to him; they live so far away from everyone else. I think we're the closest…" And no sooner had he said it than Delphine, wearing a robe over her nightgown, came down the stairs. She stopped on the landing.
"I want to thank you both for taking me in. I feel a little silly now but…" she smiled at me, "as long as Ross gets help." Tears welled in her eyes but I remained sitting. Comforting her dressed in loose clothing associated with bed, would be improper in the least. She contained herself and stood straighter. "And breakfast will be at 7:00 sharp. I've checked Hop Sing's well-stocked larder and decided on hot cakes and ham slices. And lots of hot coffee."
"Why thank you, Delphine," my father said. "We'll give you free rein in the kitchen and if dinner tonight was a sample of your cooking talents, I'm looking forward to breakfast." She smiled, told us goodnight, and went back upstairs.
"Well," my father said, knocking out his pipe ash, "I'm going to turn in myself, Adam." He stood up. "You coming up?"
"No, not yet." I had to think about what Delphine had told me while we were alone in the Ponderosa, after I had taken her things to the guest room and before my family made their loud return to the house. I was leery of doing so in my bedroom where shadows hid the darkest of my fears. Better down here where I could stare into the flames and just let my mind go—but not go too far.
"Ross kept asking if you'd ridden up to see me., if the child was yours. I don't know where he got that idea but I denied it. Over and over, I denied it. He looked as if he would kill me but he only slapped me, told me if the child came out looking like you, he'd strangle it first so I could watch, and then he'd strangle me."
"What? I can't believe that Ross, my best friend for so long, would accuse me, not to mention you, of such a thing."
"I know." Dell looked about nervously as if she expected Ross to be hiding in the failing daylight. "We'd be eating or I'd be darning or knitting and he'd suddenly become enraged. And then the accusations would start again but, Adam…one night he came at me and I ran out of the house. He came after me but I managed to hide in the trees. You know how the branches cross each other and are so heavy even the stars and moon are blotted out.
"He kept calling me, telling me he was sorry and that I should come home but, Adam, as crazy as it sounds, it wasn't him." I must have looked as confused as I felt but then I remembered how Ross had looked at me in their house earlier. "I know you think I'm losing my mind, Adam, but I knew if I came out, something bad was going to happen. So, I stayed hidden until he went away."
"I understand, Dell. I do." The frightening part was that I did understand.
"Well, I waited quite awhile before I crept out and then I saw an Indian woman, the same one that I've been catching glimpses of about the place. I'd told Ross about her but he just shrugged it off."
I thought of the young squaw with the large dark eyes who had reached for me the night of the sweat lodge, the Indian woman who had wanted me, who had seduced me with her beauty, her scent and the promise of passion. "Go on, Dell."
Dell, breathing heavily, stumbled over her words, "I think she comes around looking for Ross, I think he's… I swear, one night I went out to look for Ross and I saw them, Ross and that woman coupling by that horrible cave. I saw them, I swear it, Adam! They were like animals!"
"All right, Dell," I said, trying to calm her down. "Are you certain of what you saw?" I believed her—I was certain the Indian maid existed as I too had seen her but this...it was too much for me to believe.
"Yes! I'm not crazy, Adam! I told Ross I saw them and he said I was losing my mind and I believed I had until I saw her again that night. She was only a few yards from the house and absolutely beautiful, long black hair hanging down about her shoulders except that she's totally naked and her legs, her legs…"
"What about her legs?" I remembered thinking she had an awkward stride and I wanted to drop my eyes to see why but couldn't, her gaze was that enthralling.
"She had the legs of a deer." Delphine stared at me. I was too stunned to speak. "You aren't going to laugh?"
"No, Dell, I'm not going to laugh." But my heart stepped up. "What happened?'
Delphine began to cry but through her sobs, she continued. "I…I was too terrified to move. And she came at me. My feet were like lead, I couldn't run, couldn't move and she swung around and kicked out at me the way horses do, knocking me down. She'd kicked me in the stomach, and as I lay on the ground, trying to breathe, the pain starting, she stared down at me and then…just darted off. She was going to stamp on me, I know it, but for some reason, she didn't. I managed to crawl up the porch steps but couldn't reach the handle. I lay there all night until Ross found me in the morning, blood soaking my skirts; I'd already lost the child but I never told Ross how, never told anyone but you, Adam. Please don't tell anyone else, not even your father. Promise me. They'll put me away, they'll swear I'm crazy and lock me up."
I handed her my handkerchief and she wiped her eyes, you know, the way women do, dabbing at the corners. "I won't tell anyone, Delphine, and I don't think you're crazy. You're safe here and I promise I'll look into this. I promise."
"Adam, I think she killed my mother. My mother fought with her, I'm sure, and that's why she had the long black hairs in her fist. I think that deer woman used her hooves to kill my mother and then propped her over the wash tin or held her head in the water until she drowned, too weak to struggle."
"Delphine…" What Delphine said made sense, that is if a man believed in such things. But I didn't. I had seen these things, seen the deer woman, seen the elk man, but perhaps with all the heat and smoke…I didn't know anymore what was real and what wasn't.
"Adam, she's off the rock face. There's a deer woman carved there. Or maybe she's from inside the cave, lives there. Wherever she came from, she's a petroglyph come to life. And all types of horrible things are there."
I stood up, unsure what I believed, and headed for the door. I needed to clear my head.
"Where are you going, Adam?"
"Just to put the horses away. Pa and my brothers will be home soon and I figure we better have something cooking for dinner."
Delphine smiled but her eyes were shining with tears. "Now you leave that to me." She stood up and smoothed down her skirts. "Let me get at that kitchen."
The next morning, after a satisfying breakfast courtesy of Delphine who glowed from their compliments, my family went back to the branding and the search for missing steer. I set out for town after an argument with my father. What could be more important than round-up, he asked me? Didn't I realize that next year's prosperity depended on this year's profits? I did, I said, but told him I wouldn't be gone long; I just had some private business in town. He wasn't happy but said nothing more to stop me.
I went to the bank and asked Pettijohn, one of the tellers, if I could see Mr. Beatty, the manager. After checking, Pettijohn held open the door and I was ushered in. I knew Beatty wouldn't decline meeting with his biggest depositor. Beatty rose from his over-stuffed leather chair and shook my hand.
"Sit down, Adam, sit down. Now what can I do for you?"
I sat. "I'm inquiring about my friend, Ross Marquette."
"Oh? Well, there's not much I can tell you, banking rules and such, but ask and I'll know if I can answer."
"Is he…" I wanted to ask in a way that wouldn't affect Ross's reputation. "He lost most of his herd a while ago to fog fever and you know about the black leg outbreak; seems we've lost more than our share as well. I offered him a loan to help him to get back on his feet, that is, my father and I did, and he refused, said he was fine. I just want to know if he truly is."
Mr. Beatty smiled and sat back in his chair. "Ah, I understand; you want to know whether or not to keep offering. Well, Ross Marquette is solvent, doing well. Deposited quite a bit of money that he said came from selling off some cattle to a buyer back east. So, when he declined your offer, he was being truthful; he doesn't need it."
I left the bank and headed over to the church that sat under large shade trees at the edge of town, the graveyard behind it. Beyond it was "Poor Man's Rest," where the indigent were buried with only boards for headstones, the names burned in, that is if the name was known. Many people passing through never traveled any further than that.
The reverend was Joe Handley and we had grown up together although we weren't friends at the time. He was a serious, intelligent young man, not one to ride about and look for ways to have rough fun as I, Carl Reagan and the Bonner brothers had. Joe headed to divinity school while I left for college. It had only been over the past few years that we found the commonality of philosophy and great books and enjoyed conversations with one another.
"Joe?" I called out upon entering the chapel. He hadn't been in the parsonage and his wife said he was in the church. Joe came out of the back room, his sleeves rolled up and a broom in his hand. Obviously, he was sweeping out and probably knocking down incipient spiderwebs.
"Adam! Good to see you." We shook hands and he offered me a seat in the pews. "What are you doing here today? Come to volunteer? I could use your help in many ways."
"No, nothing like that." I paused, then continued. "I want to ask about Ross Marquette."
"Oh…Ross." He sat down in the pew in front of mine and turned to face me. "I'm glad you've come since you and he are friends. I've been toying with the idea of asking you to intervene."
"Intervene with what?"
"I think Ross, well, I think he's ill."
"Why, exactly, do you think it?" Here was a validation of my fears.
"Well, Ross has never been a regular church-goer but of late, even Delphine hasn't attended, so I rode there to speak to them, to welcome them to return but, Adam, I never saw Delphine and I'm sure she was there. I think he told her to stay elsewhere in the house. And when I started talking about the importance of the spiritual life, the God-centered life, Ross threw me bodily out of the house, grabbed me by my jacket collar and practically lifted me up and out the front door. He seemed to enjoy it, laughed when I landed on my face in the dirt."
"Doesn't sound like Ross," I said.
"Exactly what I thought and I suppose it wasn't the old Ross as the man I spoke to, the man who put hands on me, wasn't Ross, not the Ross Marquette I always knew."
"Joe, I know in the Bible it talks about demons possessing people, about Jesus casting them out, but do you believe in that?"
"In possession of a soul? Adam, church teachings have changed from the old days of belief in witches and imps; we don't believe in demonic possession any more than we believe Old Scratch prances about in the forest, looking for vulnerable souls. We've discussed good and evil before, you and I, so you should know I don't believe the devil is a creature, but what people call the devil or demonic possession is a spiritual sickness. I believe Ross has that sickness and unless 'cured', he may go to Hell after death, or what the church considers Hell-spiritual oblivion."
"That's an interesting take on the problem," I said, turning my hat in my hands. "What advice can you give me to help Ross?"
"We can pray for him," he said. I had been hoping for more but I bowed my head while Joe prayed for Ross' soul, for his deliverance from forces of evil. I thanked him and left. An idea had come to me and I still had one more place to go in my search for answers.
