Author's Notes

Hi folks

I have been very down over this review issue. It is very hard for me to know what to do when I receive messages advising me differently on how best to handle this situation.

Generally, I am against taking down reviews and I will not do so, regardless of what is written about my story. You all have the right to your own opinions and I have no right to interfere with that, nor would I want to. I like hearing them. But it's an unpleasant thing to be forced to interfere with what readers write to each other and whatever disagreements you may have with one another. So, I will not be doing that in the future unless it is unavoidable. If something is directly very offensive and inappropriate, then I will take that review down because no one should be upset. But you must be allowed to share your opinions and disagree with each other without fear of being removed from the review section. I received private messages pushing me to take down a review from a Guest who has left some truly wonderful and insightful reviews throughout this story. This Guest is one I am grateful to for each of those comments aimed at my writing and I hope that person will continue reviewing on the story content.

I am only trying to write a story here, for us all to share and enjoy together. I don't want to offend anyone, and I'm sorry if I have done so, but I am doing my best to handle this. I don't want to cause trouble between readers and I really don't want anyone to feel hurt or attacked.

This mini chapter was actually a spontaneous idea and written because of this review-drama-business. I'm sorry it isn't longer, but I wanted to address the issue and hopefully cheer everyone up with a lighthearted chapter as quickly as possible. I hope we can move on now and comment on just the story.

Thank you all very much for sharing your thoughts on the previous chapter.

Chapter 19

"Give me that thing, will you?!"

"Shortshanks, you just hold onto your horses, I ain't finished with it yet!"

"You . . . How much are you using?!"

"Just get yur hands off!"

Ben released a sigh at the sound of his two youngest sons' bickering in the next room.

He couldn't wait to get them out of the house. After a long week of working out on the range in the relentless heat—they were all in need of doing some proper unwinding. The plan was to spend some time in town after church and Ben was sure it would do them all good.

Standing in front of the long mirror in his bedroom, he pulled his vest over his crisp, white shirt. He was going to meet up with Roy and Paul after the church service and he assumed that his two younger sons would go to the Bucket of Blood with their friends. Adam would be spending his time with Madeline, no doubt.

Ben picked up his black tie from the dresser and looped it around his collar, and he saw a frown appear on his face in the mirror as his mind once again turned to his firstborn.

Adam had been acting strangely ever since that afternoon of disturbing revelations. All that drama had occurred on Friday and throughout the whole of Saturday, Adam had been distracted, wearing that constant, serious expression. It was now Sunday, and earlier when Ben had woken up, he was displeased but not exactly surprised to find his oldest boy already up and at work out in the barn. He knew that Adam was very troubled by everything Madeline had been through and truthfully, Ben was too. He'd come to care very much about her over the last couple of months and since Friday, he'd thought about her and her past a lot too. But he was worried about his son's reaction. Because Adam had gone to that place where his mind was completely absorbed by something, where he couldn't let it go. And when he got like that, there was no telling how long it took before he was free of it again. What Ben feared the most, was that Adam would be so caught up in past events that he would neglect the present—and Madeline.

"Come on, watch it! You're spilling it everywhere!"

"Dadburnit, then quit pokin' at me!"

"Just hand it over already!"

Ben stood by the open door as a potent odor floated into his room, tickling his nose. Identifying the scent immediately and recognizing the next stop on its slow-drifting journey, he braced himself for the impending eruption.

He didn't have to wait long.

As he was struggling with the knot in his string tie, he heard marching footsteps pass his doorway and continue down the hall. The heavy gait came to an abrupt stop.

"What the devil are you two doing?!"

Silence.

" . . . Okay now, Adam, if you just calm down one sec-"

"Calm down? How many times do we have to go through this?!"

Abandoning the black string around his neck, Ben's eyes went heavenward in a silent prayer for strength as he walked out into the hall. After making his way to his youngest son's room, he took in the scene before him.

Adam stood seething, his white shirt hanging loose and unbuttoned, his arms crossed by his chest. The unfortunate recipients of his angry glare shifted nervously in front of him, Joe's hand tightly grasping a little blue bottle.

"Aaw Adam, little Joe was all run out and we didn't wanna scare folks away by turnin' up at church smellin' like horses." Hoss put his hands behind his back. "We was just borrowing a little—"

"A little?! Heck, it smells like you took a bath in it! Why can't you just leave my things alone?!"

Stepping forward, Adam snatched the incriminating object from Joe's hand, but then froze and stared at the meager remnants of his favorite Bay Rum cologne.

Ben noticed the pungent puddle spreading across the floorboards and looked up to see both his younger sons dressed in their Sunday best, attempting to hide behind each other—which in Hoss' case was quite an undertaking.

Deciding to intervene before blood was shed, Ben moved to stand in between his boys.

"Son, I'm sure your brothers meant no harm." He laid a pacifying hand on his firstborn's shoulder.

"It was almost full!" Adam waved the bottle in the air, making the last little splash bounce around inside the glass.

"I'm also certain, that they'll be happy to order and pay for a new one."

Knowing what was coming, Ben hid a smile as Adam bent his head and brought his thumb and forefinger up to pinch the bridge of his nose. It was a gesture the rest of the family knew well and they also knew that Adam couldn't help it when he did it because it clearly indicated that his frustration was at a very particular level.

"Just . . ." His head lifted and he spoke calmer. "Just ask next time, will you?"

He turned to leave the room when Joe's hesitant voice addressed him. "We did ask, Adam . . ."

Stopping in the doorway, he slowly twisted around. "You did?"

"Yea, earlier in the washroom when you were shavin' we asked," Hoss said gently. "Ya just nodded and said 'yea, sure'"

Adam blinked as he looked at them. "Oh . . . I, uh . . . I guess I wasn't really listening."

He briefly glanced up at his father—exactly the same way he would have done at eight years old when he'd misbehaved—and Ben put a hand to his mouth, looking thoughtful although really, he was just trying to keep himself from laughing.

"Well, uh," Adam mumbled, "in that case, I shouldn't really be flying off at you like that . . ."

"Yea, you probably still should." Joe looked over at Hoss, then back at his oldest brother, his face apologetic. "We knew you weren't listening and we took it anyway."

"We're real sorry," Hoss said in a sincere tone.

With his lips gradually curving upward, Adam faced them, fond exasperation glowing in his eyes.

"Let's just say we're all sorry and forget about it. It's just a cologne."

Ben observed his three sons, looking like that special parental pride was ready to burst out of him.

"But you need to do something." Adam's nose wrinkled. "You'll definitely scare folks away if you turn up smelling like that at church."

"That bad, huh?" Joe rubbed his cheek and smelled his palm, grimacing.

"Yep."

Hoss went to the dresser and splashed water from the wash basin in his face while Joe grabbed a towel in an attempt to wipe some of the pungent scent off.

It was simple times like these that Ben was so grateful for and he watched each of his sons with an affectionate smile. During those four dreadful years, Adam's presence had been like a vital piece missing from the house and having him home now made the family complete again. They simply functioned properly again.

The father's gaze settled on his eldest who had set down the cologne flask on a dresser and was buttoning up his shirt.

Adam must have sensed it because he looked up, then down, then up again when Ben kept scrutinizing him.

His hands paused by the middle button of his shirt. " . . . What?" He glanced down at himself. "Something wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh, no," Ben said, but his mouth was slightly down-turned. "I was just thinking . . . your hair has gotten quite long."

"Pa . . ." Adam shook his head and continued with the next button.

"Your curls are starting to show."

"Curls?" Joe's head jerked over to them from where he stood by the mirror.

"No Joe, Pa is just—"

"Yes, he gets a few curls at the back of his neck when it gets too long."

"He does?" Joe came over, his face set in a wide grin. "Hey, let me see, Adam."

"No, there's nothing to—" Adam held up a hand to stop his youngest sibling's approach and took a breath. "I'm leaving this room now."

Grabbing the cologne flask from the dresser, the oldest Cartwright son ignored his chuckling father and went straight for the doorway and out into the hall.

"Hey . . ." Hoss said, his voice lowering as he spoke to his father and Joe, "I reckon he's tryin' to charm Madeline with them cute little curls."

"I heard that!"

Joe's bedroom filled with the laughter of all three men and Adam continued down the hall, a dimple pulling the right side of his mouth up.