Chapter 4: Invitation
A/N: I don't own any of the characters or stories of Bonanza.
Joe
In those moments of silence and sobbing, my sadness overwhelmed me. I missed my mother so much. I missed having a mother. I missed being held in someone's arms who truly loved me (Repeat this, when she is holding him) .
I knew, too, that Ruth shared these feelings, and that hurt me even more; my heart ached for the both of us. Bringing her up here had been a spur of the moment thing. I'm not sure why I chose to do it, but I'm glad I did. It formed a bond between Ruth and me that could not have been formed in any other way. After a while of us crying together, she finally stood up. She wiped her tears and turned to me.
"Thank you for bringing me here and sharing this with me. I haven't cried this much about my mother since she died. And I haven't felt as close to her since she died either. Thank you, Joe."
"You are more than welcome, Miss Armenta," I quietly replied. I was still wrapped up in the sadness, too numb to feel.
"Now, Joe, I can't call you Mr. Cartwright, but you can call me Miss Armenta? No. Call me Ruth." I could feel again.
"If you say so, Ruth," I grinned. "Let's go back to town, it's going to get dark soon." So we walked back down the worn footpath to where our horses waited.
Before Ruth mounted her horse, she hugged his neck, and he brought his head down to her head. She whispered something in his ear, and whatever it was brought a glint back to her eyes. Her face was still drowned in sorrow, but her eyes were glittering again. We both stepped up and walked our horses out of the little grove.
As we followed the path back, the sun began to set, turning everything golden. Her plain brown hair was set afire, creating a halo around her head. Little hints of red could be seen, hidden among all the gold. And her horse's dun coat turned golden as well. She was a sun goddess, riding atop her fiery steed.
Ruth
The sun went down on that beautiful evening then, ending an adventure. It felt time to leave again. I didn't want to become attached to any one person or place, and a small inkling of me knew that if I stayed, I would become attached to this land and this man. I wasn't sure that I was ready to stop my wandering. So it was time for me to part with Joe.
We rode on in silence for a while, me thinking of how to explain to Joe that I had to leave after all his hospitality. Of course I didn't know what he was thinking, but it seemed serious. We arrived back at the livery after a long ride. I was tired and sweaty, but I didn't really care. I just wanted to tell him that I needed to leave. I unsaddled Lancer, brushed him, and fed him, while Joe looked on. He still had to ride home. Joe watered his horse, then stood there in the livery doors, fiddling with one rein, his hat brim covering his face.
Just as I was about to explain that I was leaving, Joe spoke.
"I had a real nice time today, Ruth, and I was wondering if you'd like to come to dinner at my ranch-well my family's ranch-and meet my brothers and my Pa. I'd like them to meet you too, and well, it'd be real nice if we could see each other again," he blurted, all in one stream of words coming from his mouth. He was looking up at me now from under his black hat, his hazel eyes expectant, excited, hopeful. Lovely.
All of my desire to leave suddenly vanished. It wouldn't be so bad to become attached to this man and this land, I thought. And so I smiled at his lovely face and nodded my head. Then I walked past him out the livery doors, looking back when I was across the street one last time to glance at him, standing there in the dusk, with his green jacket and his black and white horse.
Joe
I saw the glance, the quick turn of her head, the sweet smile from behind her shoulder and underneath her hat brim. I saw it, and I reveled in it. It was at that moment that I knew she had said a small yes in her mind to me. It would not be easy to coax out more of those, but they would come, I knew it then.
It had been nerve-wracking, those few seconds after I spilled my guts. I wasn't sure if she would accept my invitation or not. I only knew I could not let her leave, I only knew that I wanted her to stay more than anything at that moment.
And as if I hadn't been embarrassed enough by crying in front of her, now I had made a fool of myself too, with my quick tongue. What's going on, Joe? Usually you have more class, more style. Where has it all gone? I asked myself. And a deep part of me answered, but not with the answer I was expecting.