Even with Ron tightly tied to the porch post, I didn't trust him not to find some way to wiggle free or find some kind of escape. I gave up on my sewing project and selected a book from the bookshelves while Hop-Sing stood guard. Then, I dragged a rocking chair across the porch and made myself comfortable to wait for the Cartwrights to come home.

After the first two hours, when Hop-Sing brought me a sandwich, I expected Ron to complain of hunger. But he didn't, even if he did stare at the food. No doubt the pistol resting on my lap was a reminder that I was in no mood for him to test me.

Soon after, no more than an hour or so, I was relieved to see horses coming. I put my hand on the gun handle, though, mindful of the fact that it could be anyone approaching. Thankfully, it was my friends.

"Rosemary?" Ben asked, as he brought his horse Buck to a halt.

Standing up, I gestured to my prisoner. "Mr. Cowan attempted to...well, I assume he wanted to take me in to Virginia City to whoever paid him to do it," I explained. "I objected and thought you might have some questions for him. So. Here he is."

There was a moment where all four of the family stared at me. I didn't blame them. It was an unusual situation and none of them could have guessed that this would be the next turn of events.

"Did you say Cowan? As in Ron Cowan?" Adam demanded, dismounting first.

"Yes."

"She's crazy!" Ron shouted, apparently deciding to take a chance at persuading the men to his side. "She lured me out here and then threatened me with a gun! She left me tied out here for hours! You've got to believe me Mr. Cartwright! I haven't done anything wrong!"

Heaving a sigh, I held up my arm. Ron had held on with enough force to leave my wrist bruised. Joe's eyes narrowed, and he rushed toward me. "He hurt you!"

"Aw, it ain't as bad as all that," Ron was stupid enough to say. Maybe because he was on the ground, he couldn't see the expressions on the Cartwrights' faces. "She is the one who tried to shoot me."

"Maybe I should have tried harder," was on the tip of my tongue, but I thought better of it. Instead, I held Ron's pistol out to Hoss and said, "I really don't want to listen to his lies anymore. I will leave him to you. Maybe you can get some kind of sense out of him."

"Did he hurt you bad?" Hoss asked in concern.

"What? Oh, no. I barely feel it," I said dismissively. That was exactly the truth. My wrist ached when I moved it, but I'd felt worse in my life. "It is more of an annoyance, but not as annoying as his complaining."

Hoss' concern lifted with a grin. "Leave him to us then."

The rest of the Cartwrights were on the porch by then. Adam and Joe were looking at Ron with a seriousness that did not bode well for my young attacker. Ben patted my arm as though he wanted to assure himself that I was well. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm sure."

It was only when I slipped through the front door that I remembered why they had been gone in the first place. I paused and looked over my shoulder. Adam had pulled Ron up off the ground. From where I stood, none of my friends looked worse for wear. Had it all been a trick to get them away from the house?

Had the point been to get me alone?

Unsettled, I went in and informed Hop-Sing that the Cartwrights were back. The cook gave a nod and began to gather more food. While he worked, I cleaned the dining room table of my sewing project.

Fifteen minutes passed and Hoss came in with Joe on his heels. "I'm sure hungry," the large man said immediately. "I hope Hop-Sing has something we can eat."

"Where's Ron?" I asked, expecting to see him between Adam and Ben. But the door remained closed.

"Pa and Adam are taking him into town," Joe said, leaning against the closest chair. "He kept insisting he'd done nothing wrong, and that we had no right to hold him against his will. Pa seems to think putting him in front of his parents and the sheriff will convince him to tell us who paid him to come out here."

Joe's tone showed that he didn't quite agree with that plan. "Joe, he's just a kid," Hoss chided. "He don't know any better. You can't just beat the truth out of a kid like him. It just isn't done."

Appalled, I turned wide eyes on Joe. "That boy is definitely old enough to know better, and he knew what he was doing," he argued, his expression becoming stubborn. "He's not that much younger than me."

"Still, it ain't no call to beat the truth out of him," Hoss said patiently. His eyes lit up as Hop-Sing carried bread, meat, and cheese out of the kitchen. "Hop-Sing, you must have read my mind!"

Or the cook simply knew the family all too well. "Joe, tell me you didn't want to beat Ron Cowan!" I exclaimed, horrified.

He shrugged his shoulders. "If he had something to do with what happened at the lumber camp, we need to know."

"What exactly happened when you went to the lumber camp?" I asked curiously. I knew that the Cartwrights had many interests in mines and, of course, lumber camps on their own land. I hadn't been to either place, only seeing the cattle and horse part of the Ponderosa.

Hoss, already digging into the food, shook his head. "They were long gone," he said, referring to the attackers. He bit into the bread, chewed it, and then swallowed before he continued, "I tried to follow the tracks, but lost them when they reached the road."

"So you don't know what they wanted?"

"Of course we know what they want," Joe said, grabbing a piece of cheese. "They want to cause trouble. And what they ultimately want is our land, at the very least, the trees on the land. Everyone wants a piece of the Ponderosa."

I knew that. I wasn't stupid. "But...what would causing trouble accomplish?" I asked, trying to reason with him. "Why waste the bullets and the time to cause trouble if there was no real point behind it?"

Joe shook his head. "Not everyone is reasonable, rosemary, whatever you and Adam might think about it. The world doesn't revolve around logic. Not everyone sees it that way."

There was a note of condescension in his voice, which was unusual, and I did not appreciate it. Was he annoyed because I wasn't agreeing with him? "I know there are unreasonable people in the world. You're certainly one of them when you haven't had enough sleep," I said sharply. "I'm just saying there had to be a point, any kind of point, to attack the lumber camp."

His expression startled, Joe stared at me. "You think maybe the point was to get us away from you?" Hoss asked, pausing in the middle of his meal. His forehead was creased into a frown. "Is that what you're trying to get at?"

"I wasn't trying to get at anything," I said, feeling frustrated. Hearing him say it outright made me sound self-centered. "You know what. Forget I said anything. You all know best anyway."

Spinning on my heel, I walked away. Neither of them said anything as I stepped into my room. After the morning I'd just had, I didn't have the energy to argue with them and Joe seemed too eager to fight at the moment.

Curling up on the bed, I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. Why I wanted to cry was a bit of mystery. Nothing was actually wrong. Well, besides someone causing trouble. I'd disagreed with my friends before and it had never left me in tears before.

Tears escaped my eyes, and angrily I brushed at them. There was no point in crying, but I felt so tired. Whatever I was feeling would have to be untangled later, though I wasn't sure if it was even possible when I was so confused about what I was feeling.

A knock roused me from my sleep. Wondering how long I had been sleeping, I picked my head up from the pillow. As I blinked at the door, there was another knock on the wood. "Yes?" I managed to say.

"May I come in?"

Adam. Well, I'd slept long enough for him to make it all the way to VIrginia City, discuss the situation with the sheriff, and then return. Sighing, I forced myself to sit up. "Yes," I said, running a hand over my hair. Without being able to glance in the mirror, it was the best I could do to ensure I was presentable.

The door swung open and Adam stepped in. His expression was one of seriousness. I knew, without him saying a word, that his visit to the Cowan family had not gone as one might have hoped. Just how bad...

"Am I fired?" I asked.

Adam's eyebrow went up. "No," he said as he came closer. He left the door open, though I couldn't see anyone beyond the doorway. It was a courtesy I knew I should have expected from a man who had been educated in the East. "John Cowan isn't on the school board."

"But he did demand it."

"He did."

Swinging my legs off the bed, I rubbed my forehead. "He believed his son's story?" I asked. Since I had assisted my father with his position, I'd met parents who would always—always—took their child's word over that of anyone else. No matter the evidence that would be presented.

"Mrs. Cowan insists that there is no possible reason for her son to try to kidnap you."

Holding back another sigh, I just nodded. "So you didn't learn anything about who might have put him up to it?"

The dark-haired man shook his head. "For being an impulsive boy, he has a remarkable sense of loyalty. He didn't even flinch when pa mentioned Alpheus Troy," he said. "He seemed to know there wasn't much we could do because of his age."

Loyalty or a respect for money? This was rather alarming. Ron Cowan was an intelligent boy, however much he was insolent. If he thought it was best to hold his tongue, there had to be something important at stake for him. Was it money? A threat against his family?

He was still only a boy, so it was difficult to apply ill motives to him.

"I should have come myself," I said, shaking my head. "Perhaps if I had explained what their son had said to me, how he claimed his sister was ill, and showed them the bruises, maybe they would have believed me."

But Adam shook his head. "I think they would have been even more upset. My guess is they would want to know why you didn't believe their son. They are certain Ron is innocent of any wrongdoing, and it would take a mountain of evidence to sway them from that belief."

Of course. But maybe I would have felt I tried every option? "So when will the school board meet?" I asked, clasping my hands together.

"In two days. Try not to worry. Miss Jones isn't going to return until spring," Adam said, his tone reassuring. "No one will want to go without a teacher for that long, and who knows how long it would take to get a substitute teacher to come all this way? You haven't done anything to warrant dismissal."

I had done my best not to think about Miss Jones' scheduled return, which was probably not the smartest decision on my part. She had left to care for an ill family member, but would certainly want her position back. What would I do when she returned?

"Rosemary?"

With a start, I blinked. "Sorry. Did you ask me something?"

"No." Adam paused before he continued, "I was telling you that Slim Henry Turner quit."

Stunned, I stared at him. Had I heard that right? "He did?"

"He came to me and pa right before we left with Ron. He'd already packed his things and he left as soon as he told us his decision. He claimed to want to focus on his own land."

So sudden? I knew Slim had his own land and he wanted to run his own ranch in the future. I really shouldn't have been so surprised to hear he'd finally made a move to reach that goal, but he'd always spoken about it as some time off. He wanted to be financially stable.

Well. There was really nothing I had to say about that. Except...

"He was here the whole time?"

Adam's forehead furrowed even more. "What?"

"I mean...did he go with you to the lumber camp?" I asked. "Or did you see him ride back or did he just walk up to you on the porch? You said he already had his things packed, right?"

It took a few seconds before understanding dawned in Adam's eyes. "No, he didn't go with us," he said slowly. "If I remember correctly, he was supposed to have already left to ride fence this morning. He didn't ride up to us, but walked from the bunkhouse when we moved Ron from the porch."

How long had Slim Henry been in the bunkhouse? He must have been there before the Cartwrights returned, and I couldn't recall hearing or seeing him return. So had he been there through Ron's attempt to kidnap me? If he had, why hadn't he helped me?

"I doubt he had anything to do with Ron's actions," Adam said as if he could read my mind. "I know him. He wouldn't be a party to that."

"But he would just stand by and do nothing when someone pulls a gun on me?" That, honestly, was a worse betrayal. If my suspicions were correct, he hadn't even tried to help me.

Or was I overreacting? Jumping to conclusions?

"There has to be some kind of explanation." But Adam didn't sound as certain as he might have. "I'll ride out tomorrow and ask him."

I rubbed my head again. I shouldn't have felt so hurt. "Is there anything else?"

"Joe wants you to do some target practice with him, but you can read your letter instead."

He pulled a letter from his pocket and held it out to me. The idea of holding a gun again so soon turned my stomach, and I was glad to have the excuse to refuse. "Thank you. I'd like to stay inside for awhile."

With that, he left me to my thoughts and my letter.