Author's Notes

Hello guys!

I wasn't sure how well it worked with the last two chapters being quite long. So, I decided to break the next part up into two chapters. This is chapter 5, a little warm-up to chapter 6, which will be along in a little bit.

I want to thank you all for your reviews, I appreciate it very much and it really is nice to hear your thoughts on the story. I hope you enjoy this next part.

Chapter 5

The following week was busy at the Ponderosa ranch. The branding was finished, and the three Cartwright brothers spent their time busting broncs and rounding up cattle from the different pastures, so the animals could be driven to market.

Adam was content with working so much since he wanted to avoid going into Virginia City for a while, at least until the excitement about his little marksmanship exhibition had died down a bit. It hadn't been his intention to create such pandemonium, but instinct and habit had driven him to shoot with faultless precision when he knew that he could.

In the army, everyone had gotten pretty used to his proficiency with rifles and he hadn't considered how such a display of his skills might affect people out here in the West who didn't know the military side of him.

At the beginning of the war, he'd started out as a lieutenant in an infantry unit until he was recruited by Colonel Hiram Berdan to join the 1st United States Sharpshooters. The newly formed regiment consisted only of the Union's very best shots, and volunteers had to pass a difficult rifle test to be accepted into the corps. Adam had felt honored when he was given a position in what was considered to be an elite unit.

As he'd spent every day drilling the volunteers in the art of sharpshooting, his prowess as a marksman earned him quite a reputation. It was also during that time that he'd developed a true passion for the craft. He'd found that he enjoyed the thrill of pushing himself to that state of complete concentration and he relished the mental effort it took. And then there was that exhilarating feeling of pulling off a long distance shot and hitting a target dead on.

But it was quite a different thing when the target was another living person and that was the part he'd had a hard time with. Aiming at some unsuspecting Confederate officer who had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.

He could fight enemy soldiers when he was in open battle and he could take the shot when a Southern sharpshooter was firing at him. But hiding in a tree from far away and shooting at someone who was unaware . . . that hadn't sat well with him.

He had decided to leave Colonel Berdan's regiment and then he was promoted to captain in the infantry instead. However, he maintained a high standard in his marksmanship training and as a result, his men were above average in their rifle skills compared to other infantry companies.

His time spent with the Sharpshooters was one of the things that Adam hadn't thought to mention to his family since he returned home. But after they had seen what he could do at the county fair, they'd naturally had questions, particularly Joe. And Joe was persistent as always.

Adam didn't really mind telling them about it, and he had never had a problem with doing shooting demonstrations in the army. It was his job at the time, to teach and train soldiers, to prepare them as much as possible.

What he minded, was being hounded by those overly eager citizens who could ramble on for hours if given the chance.

It was the sensible thing to do, he told himself, to stay out of town for a while until things had cooled down.

The worst part about his plan to lay low, was that he couldn't see Madeline. He'd thought that meeting her properly without being half out of his head would bring him some sort of peace and satisfy his curiosity. Instead, their brief conversation had awakened a yearning buried deep within him. That hour he'd spent just observing her, had stirred something in him that no other woman ever had. Peaceful was the last thing Madeline made him feel.

Now, she was constantly there in the back of his mind and when he woke up every morning, she was the first thing he thought about, not the nightmares that had visited him in the night.

He thought a lot about the fact that Paul had introduced her as Miss Delaney and Joe had said that she came to Virginia City alone to live with the doctor. But Adam almost couldn't believe that a wonderful woman like her could be . . . unattached. And he didn't dare presume that he would be so lucky. He wasn't one to get ahead of himself, especially not where women were concerned. But Madeline Delaney was no ordinary woman.

He had to see her again, and soon. So, he started plotting, trying to come up with some excuse to learn more about her and a plan began taking shape in his mind.

xXXx

It was Monday afternoon, a week after they had been at the county fair when Adam and Joe walked wearily into the house. They'd spent the day together busting broncs and Adam was very impressed with how much his little brother's skills had improved in the past four years. Joe was undoubtedly the best bronc-buster they had on hand and Adam had said so, much to his youngest sibling's delight.

Ben was still going over some paperwork for a big contract they had just secured but spared a minute to look over at his boys sitting down by the fireplace. As he watched them from the alcove, Ben was pleased to notice that Hop Sing's hard work was paying off and that Adam had indeed put on some of his lost weight.

With a groan, Adam leaned back in his blue chair and Joe sat on the table in front of him, setting up the pieces for a quick game of checkers before supper.

"How can you do that? I'm in pain just watching you after all the horses you sat today." Adam grimaced at the way his little brother was sitting on the hard tabletop.

"I guess it's because I'm so much younger than you. Takes more to make me sore, older brother."

"Is that right? Well you just stay there then, kid."

Bouncing onto the settee, Joe only just managed to avoid the swatting hand aimed at him.

Over by the alcove, Ben listened carefully for a familiar noise outside and got up from his desk.

"It sounds like your brother made it home for supper after all."

"When has Hoss ever missed a supper?" Joe moved a white checker piece while rolling his eyes.

The front door swung open and Hoss walked in, his saddlebags dangling over his shoulder and the little gap between his front teeth on full display.

"Doggone, that smells nice. I swear that long road from Virginia City will leave a man half starved. Sweet 'tatoes and roast pork?"

"That's right son, Hop Sing said supper will be ready in ten minutes." Ben went over and patted his big son's arm. "Did you pick up the mail?"

"Oh yea, sure did Pa," Hoss said, pulling a bunch of letters out of his bags. "There's a letter for ya from that Reno fella . . .and I got the Territorial Enterprise too."

He put his saddlebags on the floor and held up the newspaper, walking over to the sitting room. "There's a real big thing here about the county fair. Adam, it's got you in it too! Right on page four!"

Adam dropped a black checker piece onto the table and looked up, his eyes narrowed.

"Give me that thing."

The wide smile on Hoss' face transformed into a frown of trepidation and he held out the paper at arm's length, careful not to get too close to his brother. Adam snatched it out of his hand and quickly found the right page. His eyes raced from side to side as he read and creases appeared across his brow.

"I can't believe he did this. I swear, when I see him, I'm gonna . . ." His voice trailed off and the two younger brothers knew that the silent pledge Adam had just made to himself meant nothing good for the writer of the article.

Hoss sat down on the sidearm of the settee.

"I thought ol' Dave did quite a good job with that thing, Adam. Said some real nice things about ya."

"It's been a week, people were probably just forgetting about the stupid thing and now . . . now Mr. Howell's piece of writing here, has just freshened it up in their minds."

Letting out a scoff, Adam tossed the offending item onto the table where Joe promptly reached for it.

Ben had been half listening while he read his letter and came over to his sons by the fireplace.

"Easy, Adam, don't be so rough on Dave. And I think you're wrong about folks 'forgetting about the stupid thing'. You now hold the sharpshooting record, no one is about to forget that, and it certainly would have been criticized if the Territorial Enterprise hadn't mentioned what happened. He is a journalist, it's his job after all."

There was a little grumble from the blue chair.

"Here, maybe this will cheer you up," Ben said and held out an envelope for his cranky son. "It's from Washington D.C."

Adam perked up at that and took the letter. As soon as he opened it a big smile broke out on his face.

"It's from Jim," he said, barely loud enough for the others to hear and Joe leaned forwards.

"Is that one of your army buddies, Adam?"

"Yea, my First Lieutenant . . ."

"Really? What does he say?"

Smiling, Ben stepped over and placed a hand on his young son's shoulder, indicating that they should give Adam a chance to read his letter himself first. After a couple of minutes, Adam fell back in his chair, his face relaxed and the smile still in place. He noticed his family watching him in anticipation and he gestured to the letter in his hand.

"It's just Jim giving me an update on everything. The boys have gotten leave until they get orders on where they're being sent next. Jim thinks they could be moving west."

"Wow, ya think they'll be comin' out here, Adam?"

"I don't know Hoss." Pursing his lips, Adam placed the letter on the table. "It's hard to say when you're Regular Army. My company is now part of the 4th Regiment, US Infantry and they had a few companies stationed out here five years ago. They were dealing with the Indian trouble when the war broke out and all the regular army units were ordered east. Now that it's over, it's possible that the government will want to send some men out here again to support the volunteer units who are currently manning the forts around the territory."

Joe and Hoss became quiet as they considered what that might mean but the thought wasn't exactly new to Adam. He'd been thinking about that very scenario for weeks. Ben was staring at the cold hearth with glassy eyes and Adam noticed.

"You all right, Pa?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, I'm fine."

Adam wasn't convinced but he didn't want to press his father in front of his brothers.

"Hey," Joe suddenly said, "why does he call you 'cowboy captain'?"

Jim's letter was lying on the table and Joe was scrutinizing it, reading the words upside down.

Picking up the paper, Adam reread the last part of the message which had warmed his heart.

". . .will write you as soon as I know more. The men miss their cowboy captain."

When he faced Joe, his eyes glowed with fondness.

"Oh, it was just a nickname that came about. You know, with me being from the West and I guess it was something in my manner, the way I acted sometimes. My good friend Henry started it with Jim and the rest of the men liked it. It carried a lot further than I expected though, when we got back to Washington D.C. for the celebration, practically all my superior officers called me by that nickname, the generals had heard of it too, apparently."

It always amazed Hoss and Joe that Adam would tell them the most remarkable things but at the same time make it seem like it was no big deal with his casual tone.

"I reckon that's a real fine nickname, Adam." Hoss gave him a serious look. "They sound like nice fellas, Jim and Henry. I'm sure glad you had some good friends with ya through all that."

Adam held those impossibly blue eyes of his brother's.

"Yea. They're good friends," he said softly.

A voice from the dining area called for the four men's attention.

"Supper weaddy now. You come, you eat or food get cold!"

"Hop Sing, you don't need to tell me twice!"

Hoss grinned at Adam and rubbed his hands together as he got up. He went to the dining table while Joe followed him blindly, his attention fixed on page four of the newspaper in his hands.

Folding Jim's letter, Adam placed it back in the envelope and smoothed his thumb across the yellow paper. He looked up and saw his Pa watching him in that strange way again.

"We better go to the table," Ben said. "Hop Sing hasn't made any threats about returning to China for weeks, best keep it that way, hmm?"

He glanced down at the letter in Adam's hands once more, then turned away and walked to the dining area.

Adam's brows knitted together. There was something going on with his father, but he had no idea what it was. As he stood, he took in the sight of his family sitting around the table together.

God, how many times had he dreamed of that sight over the past years? That picture in his mind had given him the strength to keep going and it was real now; so real that he could touch it and feel it. He could walk straight into that picture and take his place in it.

And after putting down the letter, that's exactly what he did.