The Search

We searched for two days, looking anywhere and everywhere a small boy might go. Although I didn't tell Miriam or my brothers, I also searched the ditches where people toss their refuse and checked the nearby ponds and creeks to see if anyone had dumped a small body. I looked anywhere and everywhere and each time I found nothing, I didn't know whether to be relieved or agonized at another impasse.

Hoss and Joe stopped at every homesteaders on the western and southern sides of Virginia City—my father and Deputy Foster going north and doing the same. Sheriff Coffee wired the sheriff of Carson City to see if a young boy by the name of Asher Cartwright, almost five with curly black hair and dark eyes, had shown up in anyone's company. The eastern side of the Ponderosa was vast but I covered all I could, calling out Asher's name until I was hoarse. All of us met back in town but no one had anything—not a trace—no child's boot or clothing. No one asked had seen a child. There was nothing. He had just disappeared. I didn't know where else to look anymore and I hadn't seen Miriam since Asher's disappearance so I wearily went home until the morning—Hoss and I planned to meet up to continue the search with dogs.

I walked into the dark house and Miriam was sitting by the fire. She wasn't doing anything that I could see, put down no knitting or darning or even a book. She slowly turned—her face hopeful. She rose and looked at me, questioning me.

"Nothing. I found nothing and…we met back in town and so far, no trace of him." She sat back down, staring into the fire. "Miriam…" I didn't know what to say but I knew I wanted comforting and I imagined so did she. I had hoped when I came home that she would run into my arms but she just sat stiffly. At first I was angry but then, suddenly I understood; she was in a prison of her own making and kept everyone else locked out. She wouldn't share with me.

I hadn't shaved for so long and I stank and was filthy and hungry and exhausted. My eyes burned from lack of sleep and my spirit was beaten down. Tomorrow I'd start again but I was so weary I'd almost fallen asleep in the saddle. But Miriam just sat—her face unreadable.

"Miriam, I haven't eaten in almost two days. Is there anything in the kitchen?"

"What?' She looked over at me, not seeming to understand.

"Nothing, Miriam, nothing." I took off my gun belt and left it and my hat on the chair by the door. Usually I put my gun out of reach of Asher but it didn't matter that night. I went into the kitchen and the plate of cold biscuits still sat on the small kitchen table. I looked around. The coffee pot was cold and I gingerly touched the stove-it was cold. I wondered if Miriam had eaten the past two days and what she had done to pass the time to keep from losing her mind to worry. Even I, as I looked for my boy, had to keep from screaming out my pain and fear and cursing God for what had happened.

I grabbed up a biscuit and it was stale and dry but I ate it anyway. Then I fired up the stove, thinking the wood box needed filling. That was one of Asher's few chores. Every day he was to pick up the smaller pieces of chopped wood and bring them in for the kitchen wood box. And he knew to be wary of wood scorpions and spiders that might be crawling among the stack, certain not to bring them inside or to have them bite him. And I remembered the first time he saw a scorpion—he had been about three and was screaming in terror as it moved through the dirt. I had gone running and scooped him up. As I held him he pointed at the scorpion with its curved fanged tail, and I crushed it under my boot heel.

I made a pot of coffee and sat down at the table; I didn't want to stand anymore, didn't want to think anymore. And then Miriam came in.

"I'll fix you something," she said. The sound of her voice was odd—as if a stranger was speaking through her. I said nothing but just watched as she pulled out a bowl, the flour, salt and baking powder, and quickly made a batch of biscuits. Once they were in the oven, she sliced some bacon and then fried it. The smells made my stomach ache with hunger. Once the bacon was removed, she quickly made a gravy and served me a plate of bacon, biscuits and gravy.

Once she had placed a mug of coffee before me, she asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Sit with me while I eat, will you?"

She hesitated but sat and I noticed that her eyes were hollow, her skin almost gray. We said nothing and I began to eat. At first my stomach rebelled against the saltiness of the bacon gravy and I paused. But the nausea passed so I continued to eat.

"I want you to stay at the Ponderosa," I said between bites. "You shouldn't be here alone and I'm going out to search again with Hoss."

"Asher might come home. He might ask someone to bring him home and I wanted to be here." She looked at the tablecloth and traced the pattern of vines and roses with her finger. "You don't expect him to be found, do you? At least not found…"

"Miriam…" I finished chewing and swallowed. Although I'd prayed constantly for the safe return of my son even as I went about searching with a heavy heart, I didn't expect anyone to find him and I had also searched for freshly-dug piles of dirt that might serve as small grave. But I couldn't voice my fear and I was relieved Miriam hadn't as well; to say the words might make them true.

"I should have made him stay with me," Miriam said without any expression-just as a fact.

I put down my knife and fork. "Miriam, It's not your fault. Please…" I reached out for her hand and it was cold.

"It is my fault. I just want him home." She stood and began to pace the kitchen. That must have been what she had been doing—having panic episodes like the one I was seeing. She began to breathe heavily and then clapped her hands over her mouth as if to hold in a scream.

"Miriam!" I stood and tried to pull her to me; we were both worn down beyond human endurance with worry and fear—but she pushed me away and turned her back. Why she refused my proffered comfort, I didn't know. Did she blame me as much as I blamed myself? Was she letting me know that if Asher wasn't found, she was leaving. I didn't know if I could bear both losses—losing my son would be devastating enough but losing her as well—I wanted to slam my head against the wall.

By pure force of will, I recovered my balance and kept my voice even. "We'll find him. Tomorrow morning, Hoss and I are going to Carson City to borrow Rance Howard's best hunting dogs—he breeds them. I mainly came back home to get a shirt or trousers of Asher's, something with his scent." She said nothing, didn't seem to realize I hadn't told the whole truth. I hadn't said that I wanted to see her. She had comforted me once when I lost my wife—my first wife—and now I desperately needed her again. "You need to get some sleep." I walked over to the high cupboard where we kept the glass vial of laudanum pills. I tapped one into my hand. "Take this." I held it out to her. "It'll let you sleep."

"No…something might…I don't want to dream." She held herself tightly as if afraid she was going to crumble in front of me.

"Could any dream be worse than this reality?" I still held out the pill. She reached out a small hand and took it from me. I pumped a glass of water and handed it to her and she obediently swallowed the laudanum. I stood alone and she walked out and I could barely hear her light tread on the stairs. I dropped back down in my chair, my appetite gone. I left the second half-eaten biscuit, the gravy now cold and unappetizing. I needed to sleep but I had the same fear that Miriam did—would my dreams be terrifying, full of horrors that brewed in the deep recesses of my mind? I placed my head on my arms and I must have fallen asleep because soon the sun came slanting in the kitchen window and woke me. I was disoriented and for just a moment-free of worry—until the fear reared up again and drove me on.

~ 0 ~

The dogs we'd borrowed—offered to pay for but Rance Howard declined our money—kept their noses to the ground. I didn't have much faith as there was no starting point. We couldn't start at my property and so we had no choice but to take the dogs to town and start them at the milliner's. But all the scents distracted them and they more or less went in circles; they would go out into the street and then turn in confusion, returning to the hat shop. Hoss suggested we start at the edge of town and move out from there.

"But that only works if Asher was on foot."

"Adam, we gotta try it—ain't got much choice, do we?" I must have looked broken—since that's how I felt, as if my mind wouldn't function. I had been through war and survived Andersonville but the fear that haunted me then was nothing like this. I remembered what Miriam had said early on when we initially searched the town, "I keep thinking he must be afraid…oh, Adam, I can't bear it!" I kept pushing that thought from my mind but like the tide, it kept returning.

Everyone in town knew by then that my son was missing. I could tell by their sympathetic looks and the offers to keep their eyes open. I tried to sound appreciative but I wanted to say, "Where were you when my son was taken? What help were you then?" But they could ask me the same thing. I should have taken him with me no matter what chore I had to do. He was my son and I should have taken responsibility.

I knew Hoss was watching me closely. I could only imagine what my father had said to him. More than likely, "Look out for Adam. Too much grief addles a man, even one as strong as your brother. If you find anything…I don't know wat he'll do. I don't know wat I'll do." I knew that my father and the rest of my family was as distressed as I was—and Miriam.

"Adam, I can only try to imagine what you must be goin' through. If anything ever happened to one of my boys, well, I can only…" He pursed his lips. "Let's take the dogs to the east road and start from there."

So we did and the dogs ran about, their noses to the ground, and bayed to one another and Joe said later that was the only way he found us; he heard the dogs.

"Asher's home." Joe was grinning broadly, his eyes glistening. "He was brought to your place this morning and Miriam brought him to the Ponderosa. I was just about to take out searching again when one of the ranch hands came and told me."

It seemed as if the sun came out from behind a shadow; the eclipse was over. I wanted to drop to my knees and give thanks but first I had to know. "Is he all right? Was he hurt?"

"Not from what I was told—he's just fine, happy to be home and chattin' away. Now you get going and see your boy and give him a hug from us. Hoss and me'll see to the dogs." Both my brothers were grinning and that's how I left them.

When I arrived at the Ponderosa, my father came out and I dismounted even before my horse had stopped.

"He's all right, Adam. Hop Sing's feeding him cookies and milk and Miriam won't let him out of her sight."

"What happened to him? Where's he been?"

"I'll let Miriam tell you firsthand."

I raced into the house and Asher turned around when I entered the kitchen. Seeing him, his small figure sitting at the table, milk on his upper lip, made me want to cry in relief. My boy was back and from the looks of it, unscathed.

"Hi, Pa," he said excitedly. "Guess where I been."

I glanced at Miriam. She was blank—I couldn't read her expression.

"Asher, we were all worried." I kneeled down and caressed his dark head, felt again the softness of his curls, saw the beauty of his eyes and mouth. My love for him was so overwhelming I feared it would kill me.

I kissed Asher's round cheek and he shrugged slightly away; he never was one to sit still for kisses or any overt show of affection from me but I imagined my rough three-days'-growth of beard and my smell were enough to cause anyone to shrink away. He continued to eat the cookies and reached out for the glass of milk—he had to hold it with both hands in order to raise it to his mouth.

"Pa, I got to eat all the candy I wanted. A man bought a huge bag and said it was mine and he was s'possed to watch me while you and Momma were busy. And we stayed in a cabin and it had some mice and a cob web in the corner. The mice came out at night and one of the men, Pa, he shot one of them. The other man, he said it wasn't no mouse but a rat. But it was big and had a long tail and Mr. Brown, he said it was a mouse 'cause mice got really long tails and Mr. White, he said that he didn't know shit about mice or anything else. They cussed, Pa, real bad. They said bad words to each other all the time. But I got to ride a horse all by myself and it was a big horse! I got to ride it in circles! And we played games! I got to play horseshoes—horse shoes are really heavy and Mr. Brown helped me 'cause they're so heavy. And I played a game that's called Mumble peg—you got this knife…I know I'm not s'posed to play with knives but Mr. Brown said it was fine 'cause he was watching me and I didn't cut myself at all. And we had a fire outside and cooked on it. But I wanted to go home after a while and they kept saying that I had to stay a few days 'cause you and momma went on a trip."

"Nobody hurt you. did they?"

"No, Pa. I had fun."

"Good. I'm glad but, Asher…" I wanted to tell him to never go off with anyone else again but I decided later would be better. But I couldn't stop touching him.

"Adam," my father said and motioned for me to follow him. When we were in the dining room, he pulled me aside even more. "I sent someone for Roy. I've been trying to get information from Asher but he only wants to talk about how much fun he had. He wasn't harmed—I'm sure of that and the only names he knows are Mr. Brown and Mr. White. I'm sure those aren't their names."

"Why did they take him and who returned him? I want to talk to Miriam. Would you get her."

He did and soon she stood before me, the two of us alone.

"Okay, Miriam, tell me. And if you had anything to do with this…"

"Do you really think I would harm him?"

"I don't know what to think. Who brought him home?"

"I've never seen the man before. He rode up with Asher sitting in front of him. He handed Asher down and told me to send him inside. I did as he told me. Then he said he had a message for you. He said to tell you to drop any investigation into the Horseshoe mine's investors. If you didn't, well, they took Asher once and they could take him again and next time, you wouldn't get him back. Then he rode off."

"Is that all he said?"

"Yes. That's all. And then I brought Asher here."

"Baxter is behind this—that goddamn son of a bitch! I'll kill him."

"Adam, don't rush to judgment on Mr. Baxter…" She stopped, her voice faded, and Miriam fainted dead away. I barely caught her before she hit the floor.

TBC