Chapter Six
October passed in a flurry of preparations. Once the cattle were secured in winter pastures, the Cartwright men spent the rest of the month finishing up the exterior of Hoss and Patience's house. Adam was anxious to get the roof on the place so they would be protected in case snow came early, and by the end of the month, the exterior was finished, and they began working on the inside.
Josie, Molly, and Sally Cass stayed busy helping Patience plan the wedding, and Josie, Sally, and Patience's younger sister, Hope, went to Molly's shop one afternoon to get their measurements taken for their bridesmaid's dresses. All three young ladies were delighted with the red silk Patience had chosen; it would be stunning against both Josie's and Hope's dark hair and Sally's blond. The dresses would have full hoop skirts, cap sleeves, and white-lace trim – perfect for a Christmas wedding. Even Josie was excited about the prospect of a new gown, and she hoped she'd get another opportunity to wear it sometime after the wedding.
Fionn finished harvesting his fall crops by the middle of the month, and he, Josie, Little Joe, Sally, and Patience put the finishing touches on the plans for the Fall Festival. They already had nearly a dozen shops in town sporting "I Support the Library" signs, showing that they were donating a small portion of their profits to the library. Since Josie's reward money more than covered the cost of ordering books to stock the shelves and purchase the other supplies they needed, such as ledgers to keep track of their catalogue and who had which books checked out at any given time, the quintet voted unanimously to split the proceeds from the upcoming festival with the school so it could purchase a bell for its tower. They papered every bulletin board in town with fliers advertising the festival, and all of Virginia City began buzzing with excitement. Usually the town saw only one or two shindigs each year, and everyone was thrilled to get in one more party before winter settled over the region. The children, especially, were excited over the planned games, and Molly found herself inundated with last-minute orders when Josie and company announced the addition of a costume contest.
Ten days before the Fall Festival, Fionn came by the Ponderosa to check on the apple cider that he, Hoss, and Little Joe had made while Josie was in Sacramento. To stay out of Hop Sing's way, they had used the stove in Josie's clinic and then stored the jars in the house's basement to keep the cider cool. It had been sitting for three weeks, so Fionn guessed the spices had had just enough to time to infuse the liquid.
When Fionn arrived on the Ponderosa, followed closely by Conall, he, Hoss, Joe, and Josie tromped down to the basement to check on the concoction. As soon as he spotted the jars, Fionn slapped his forehead and groaned.
"What is it?" Hoss asked.
Fionn looked at him and Little Joe in amazement. "Does no one else see the problem here?!" he demanded, waving a hand toward the jars.
Hoss and Joe shared an uncomfortable glance, while Josie, who was seeing the cider for the first time, just looked confused.
Fionn sighed in exasperation. "The jars. You didna put the lids on the jars!"
Josie looked over and saw that the four dozen jars of apple cider were covered only by cheesecloth. Fionn turned to her to explain.
"The cider was still hot from the stove when we brought it down here. It needed to cool before we capped it, and these two," he jabbed a finger at Hoss and Little Joe, "were supposed to put the lids on that night!"
Josie joined Fionn in glaring at Hoss and Joe. "Well done, fellas," she said. "You ruined the cider."
Hoss picked up one of the jars and took a sniff. "Huh," he said, taking another sniff. "Smells like the kitchen when Hop Sing bakes bread."
Curious, Josie picked up a jar, too, and inhaled. "You're right. It smells like yeast."
Fionn perked up. "Yeast? Lemme see." He snatched the jar from Josie and took a whiff. Much to everyone's surprise, he burst out laughing. "Looks like we made cider after all, shams! I need a spoon!" Jar in hand, Fionn darted up the stairs, and the three Cartwrights heard him rummaging around in the kitchen. Terrified that this would result in Fionn's murder by a small Chinese man, Josie, Hoss, and Joe tore up the stairs after him. They found Fionn standing next to the sink and using a spoon to skim a layer of thick foam off the top of the cider. He flung this into the sink and then, giving the cider a good stir, he raised the jar to his lips and took a sip. Hoss and Little Joe both held their breath as they waited for Fionn's reaction, while Josie tried to remember if she had a bottle of ipecac in her bedroom in case she needed to empty Fionn's stomach in a hurry. Much to everyone's relief, Fionn grinned as he lowered the jar from his mouth.
"Well?" Joe asked tentatively.
Fionn said nothing and passed him the jar. Joe took a small sip and then grinned even wider than Fionn. He gave the jar to Hoss, who laughed delightedly when he tasted the cider.
"You gotta try this, Josie!" he said as he handed her the jar.
Warily, Josie raised the jar to her lips and took the tiniest possible sip. The liquid that ran over her tongue was sweet, yet had a tart bite. It took a moment for her to realize why. "It's fermented!" she exclaimed. The men broke out laughing.
"Yes, it is!" Fionn cheered. "Not the type of cider we intended to make, but cider all the same!"
Josie took another, larger sip. "It's pretty good," she admitted, studying the liquid in the jar. "But fellas, we can't give this to the children at the Fall Festival. What are we going to do with it all?"
"I suppose we could sell it," Little Joe suggested.
"Oh, Joseph, Joseph, Joseph," Fionn said, draping an arm over his friend's shoulders. "I have to teach you to think like an Irishman. What we've got here is enough hard cider to keep us happy all winter. What's the matter with you, thinkin' of getting rid of it?"
They all laughed, but Hop Sing swept into the kitchen just then and ordered them out so he could make supper.
"I suppose Mr. O'Connell stay for supper?" he asked Josie.
"Yes, if that's not a bother."
"No bother for Hop Sing, so long as he stay OUT OF KITCHEN!" The cook snapped a dish towel at them, sending them scampering out of the kitchen like frightened chickens.
Adam and Ben were working late that evening reviewing the progress of one of their new mines, so it was just Josie, Joe, Hoss, and Fionn at the supper table. As they ate their way through bowls of Hop Sing's famous beef stew, they passed around the jar of cider, which was empty by the end of the meal. Before Little Joe dealt cards to play a few rounds of Hearts, Fionn gave Josie a wicked grin and dashed back down to the basement, returning in short order with four more jars of cider and four spoons. After everyone had skimmed the foam from their jars and stirred up their cider, they settled in to play cards.
Josie had always enjoyed Hearts, but she had never known the game could be so funny. Something about the expression on the Queen of Spades' face made her giggle uncontrollably. By the time Hoss had taken the last of the tricks and was declared the winner, all four of them were laughing at the slightest provocation, and Josie realized she had nearly drained her jar of cider.
"Let's play again!" Little Joe said. His words were slurred, though, so it came out sounding like "Less play gin."
"No!" Fionn declared. "Ceoil agus craic!"
The Cartwrights stared at him in bewilderment.
"Should I have understood that?" Josie asked Hoss. She'd meant to whisper, but she realized too late that she'd nearly shouted, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Music and fun!" Fionn repeated in English. "We need music!" He jumped out of his chair and soared over to the living room, where he cleared the coffee table and leapt onto it.
"I need more cider first," Hoss said and lumbered down to the basement to retrieve four more jars.
"And I really have to go!" Josie added, again shouting when she'd meant to whisper. She made her way clumsily up the stairs and decided she really should have a talk with Adam about realigning the staircase. Somehow, it had gone out of plumb. When she returned, feeling like she'd lost about five pounds of water weight, she found Hoss and Joe sitting on the settee, clapping their hands in time to Fionn's singing. Josie didn't catch all of the words, but it was something about hunting a hare along the rocky road to Dublin. It didn't matter, though, as Fionn tapped out such an infectious rhythm on the coffee table that Josie soon found herself clapping along and joining in the chorus. Even Pip and Conall howled along. Between songs, she drained the last of her first cider jar and skimmed the foam off her second.
After a few rousing songs, Fionn taught them all a sad ballad about a man who stole from the British to feed his family during the Potato Famine and then was shipped off to the penal colonies in Australia.
"Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free," he sang. "Against the Famine and the Crown, I rebelled, they cut me down. Now you must raise our child with dignity."
By the time Fionn reached the chorus, all three Cartwrights had joined in:
"Low lie the Fields of Athenry, where once we watched the small free bird fly. Our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing. It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry!"
Hoss and Little Joe were wiping tears from their eyes by the end of the tune, so Fionn decided to pick up the tempo again. "Drain your jars, friends!" he commanded. "You'll need it for this one! It's called 'The Merry Cuckold and the Kind Wife.'" The Cartwrights opened their third jars of cider, Josie opening an extra one for Fionn, and sat back to listen. Fionn launched into a song about a man whose wife was clearly cheating on him but kept convincing him that he was so drunk he was hallucinating. Josie roared with laughter at the fifth verse:
And as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my old head should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be?
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you cannot see
That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before!
Ben and Adam came home just as Josie, Hoss, and Little Joe were opening their fourth jars of cider and Fionn was launching into the seventh and raunchiest verse:
As I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be,
I saw a thing in her thing where my old thing should be.
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that thing in your thing where my old thing should be?
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you cannot see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me.
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more,
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before!
The three youngest Cartwrights screamed with laughter, as Fionn, still standing on the coffee table, took a bow, lost his balance, and landed in their laps, splashing cider everywhere.
"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?!" Ben thundered.
Hoss, Little Joe, and Josie swiveled their heads to look at him and Adam. Fionn tried to look up, too, but as he was still lying in his friends' laps, he found himself face-to-face with Josie's bosom instead of Ben Cartwright's face.
"Why, hello, ladies!" he greeted her breasts.
"What did you call us?!" Adam demanded, too stunned by the sight in front of him to move farther than the sideboard.
"Hiiiiiii, Adammmmm," Josie giggled, waving at him with one hand while pushing Fionn's face away from her chest with the other. Fionn rolled off the Cartwrights and landed on the floor, spilling even more cider on himself and the rug in the process. He lay on the floor, giggling, and trying to drink what was left in his jar, though he ended up pouring most of it in his hair.
Josie got to her feet and, clutching Pip for support, stumbled over to her uncle and Adam. "We were just testing the apple cider Fionn and Hoss and, and, and, oh, whatever his name is, made."
"Joe!" Little Joe hollered from the settee.
"Right. Joe." Josie grinned up at Ben and lost her balance. Ben caught her under the arms, and Josie held her jar up to him. "You gotta try this stuff, Buncle Nen." She laughed hysterically at her mistake. "Buncle Nen!" she screamed. "I gotta remember that!"
Still holding onto Josie, Ben got a whiff of her breath. "You're drunk!" he said, shock overtaking his anger.
Josie looked up at him and stuck out her lower lip. "You're grumpy," she pouted. She looked over at Adam. "And you're tall." She dissolved into hysterics again, and Ben lowered her to a seated position on the floor.
While Adam stared helplessly down at his inebriated little sister, Ben strode over to the settee and yanked Fionn to his feet. "I suppose I have you to thank for this?"
"Oh, sure!" Fionn said, flailing one hand around for emphasis. "Blame the Irishman!" Ben wasn't sure how to respond, so Fionn pointed at Hoss and Little Joe. "Technically, you have them to thank. They forgot to put the lids on the jars."
Ben set Fionn back on the floor and turned to Hoss and Joe.
"We forgot to put the lids on the jars, Pa," Hoss said just before letting out a deafening hiccup.
"I gathered as much."
Adam grabbed the jar from Josie's hand and took a sip. "It's the apple cider they made while Josie and I were away, Pa," he said. "It fermented. And clearly, they've been enjoying it all evening."
Ben sighed as he looked as the four sloppy young adults around him and the even sloppier state of his living room. "Adam, put Josie to bed and then send Pip with a message for Molly. Let her know Fionn's too drunk to ride home, so we're keeping him here tonight. I'll see if Hop Sing has any tricks for getting apple cider out of upholstery."
Adam set Josie's jar on the sideboard, swept his cousin up in his arms and carried her upstairs. Josie sang "The Merry Cuckold and the Kind Wife" at the top of her lungs all the way to her bedroom. Adam sat her down on the edge of her bed, and Josie flopped onto her back and kept singing while Adam dug a nightgown out of her chest of drawers.
"You think you can get into this?" he shouted over her singing.
Josie quit singing but kept staring up at the ceiling and waving her hands like she was conducting an orchestra. "No," she replied.
Adam sighed and tossed the nightgown onto her dressing table. "Fine. Let's just get your shoes off. That'll have to do."
Josie shrieked and kicked as Adam tried to unbutton her shoes. "What's the matter with you?!" he demanded, losing his patience.
"They're ticklish," Josie said as if this should have been obvious.
"What, your shoes? Josie, your shoes are not ticklish."
Josie sat up and grabbed his face with both hands. "How do you know?" she asked seriously. "Have you asked them?" She burst out laughing again, but at least she held still while Adam unbuttoned and pulled off her shoes. Once Josie was unshod, Adam grabbed her ankles and swung her legs around onto her bed. He yanked the quilt out from under her and covered her up.
"Go to sleep," he said, shaking his head. He kissed her forehead, extinguished the lamp, and turned to leave.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm gonna regret this in the morning, aren't I?"
"I think you're going to regret this later tonight. Goodnight, Josie."
When Adam returned to the living room, he found his father and Hop Sing sponging cider out of the settee and the rug.
"Joe and Hoss go to bed?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ben replied. "And I tossed Fionn onto the bed in the guestroom."
Adam wrote the short note to Molly, attached it to Pip's collar, and sent him and Conall out the front door with orders to find Molly. Then he grabbed a sponge and helped clean up the living room. Once they had gotten all the cider out of the upholstery (fortunately, Hop Sing said he didn't think it would stain), Adam and Ben collapsed in the armchairs next to the fire.
"I have to say," Ben began, "I never expected to come home to that."
Adam chuckled and agreed. The two men sat in silence for a bit until Ben's curiosity got the better of him, and he picked up an abandoned cider jar and tasted the contents.
"This stuff is pretty good," he admitted.
Adam rose and grabbed Josie's jar off the sideboard. He took a bigger taste than he had before and agreed with his father again. "So good it kinda makes you want to sing, doesn't it?" he quipped.
Ben laughed and raised his jar to Adam. "Your good health." Adam returned the salute, and the two men passed the remaining time until bed finishing off the jars.
Adam's prediction to Josie came true. Somewhere around two a.m., she woke up to a violent churning in her stomach, and she had just enough time to race into the washroom and bend over the commode before three and half jars of hard cider came back up. Her retching woke Adam, who leapt out of bed and knocked on the washroom door.
"Josie?" he called. "You dressed?"
In between heaves, Josie managed to croak out a weak "Yeah," and Adam let himself in. He dampened a washcloth and knelt on the floor next to her. When Josie finally quit heaving, she fell backward onto the floor and groaned.
"You can say 'I told you so,'" she sniffled.
Adam bent over her and wiped the sweat from her brow with the washcloth. "I don't think I need to," he replied. He was about to offer her a glass of water when Josie's stomach lurched again and she had to bend over the commode once more for another round of vomiting. While Adam was rubbing her back and reassuring her that she'd be all right once she got it all out, Little Joe burst into the washroom. His brown curls were matted and plastered to his forehead by a cold sweat, and his face was pale, his green eyes dull and sunken. He let out a cry of despair as he saw Josie had already claimed the commode, and, realizing what was about to happen, Adam jumped to his feet and pushed his little brother to his knees next to the bathtub. Joe clutched the edge of the tub for dear life as he joined Josie in retching.
Adam stood there between his brother and his cousin as they vomited, and he wondered why he had gotten himself involved. He could have just stayed in bed and let them fend for themselves. After all, they'd gotten themselves into this mess. He was about to wake Hoss and let him deal with Joe and Josie when he heard a suspicious banging from downstairs. He darted into the hallway, where he collided with Ben, who had also been woken by the sounds of gagging from the washroom. Father and son dashed down the stairs and glanced around the living room, looking for the source of the new sound. Nothing was out of place, and they were about to go back upstairs when they heard the now-familiar sound of retching coming from the guestroom. Ben and Adam shared an exasperated look, and Ben sent Adam back upstairs to tend to Joe and Josie while he checked on Fionn.
Ben didn't bother to knock on the guestroom door. It was his house, and it didn't sound like Fionn was in any condition to answer the door anyway. He stepped into the dark room and lit the oil lamp on the wall. In its golden glow, Ben saw that, having no other options, Fionn had opened the window next to the bed and was vomiting into the front yard.
"Fionn?" he said softly when Fionn's stomach gave him a brief respite.
Fionn jumped in surprise and banged the back of his head on the window frame. He hollered in pain and rubbed the back of his head. He was about to turn toward Ben when another wave of nausea hit him, and he had to lean out of the window again. Ben shook his head and crossed to the side table where there was a pitcher of water, a bowl, a few hand towels, and an empty glass. He filled the glass and carried it over to Fionn. The young man was a mess. His shirt and hair were sticky with cider, which was now mixing with the cold sweat that had broken out when he'd begun vomiting, leaving Fionn covered in a thick goop. Despite his annoyance with Fionn for drinking himself halfway into oblivion on the living-room rug, Ben felt a smidgeon of pity.
"It's all right, son," Ben said, laying his free hand on Fionn's shoulder. "It'll stop soon."
When Fionn finally stopped heaving and dropped onto the edge of the bed, Ben handed him the glass and went back to the side table to dampen a towel. He handed this to Fionn, too, so the young man could wipe off his face. Ben noticed Fionn shivering in the cold night air coming in through the window, so he slammed it shut.
"Mr. Cartwright, I am so sorry," Fionn moaned as he flopped backward onto the bed. "Joe and Hoss forgot to cap the jars, sure, but I was the one who pointed out we could drink the cider. I am so, so sorry."
Fionn was still shivering, so Ben pulled the quilt up over him and tucked it around his shoulders. "It's all right, Fionn. I expect you, Josie, and Little Joe will be paying for your indiscretion all day tomorrow."
Fionn's eyes flew open. "Josie's sick?!" When Ben nodded, Fionn closed his eyes and groaned again. "Oh, Josie, what have I done? I just can't stop messin' things up for you, can I?"
Ben wiped fresh beads of sweat from Fionn's brow and refilled his water glass. "You didn't make her drink," he pointed out. "She's a doctor. She's well aware of the effects of alcohol."
"Aye, I suppose. I'm so sorry, Mr. Cartwright. You must think I'm an absolute buffoon."
Ben chuckled. "Everyone makes this mistake at least once, Fionn. Some of us several times." He gazed thoughtfully across the room and shook his head as fuzzy memories he wasn't willing to share of his seafaring days came back to him. "You should have seen what happened to Adam the first time he overdid it," he said instead.
Fionn cracked one eye and gazed hopefully up at Ben, silently begging him to tell the tale.
"All right," Ben said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "He was fourteen, and he and Ross Marquette found an ancient bottle of whiskey that Ross's father had forgotten about. Those two fools polished off the entire bottle. When Adam came home that evening, he was hanging half out of his saddle and babbling some nonsense about learning to fly. He was sick so many times that night that Marie and I ran out of clean nightshirts to put on him, and eventually we had to send him back to bed naked." He chuckled at the memory. "It was easier to hose off the boy than to scrub the nightshirts anyway."
"Marie?"
"My wife. Little Joe's mother."
"Oh, aye." Fionn digested this information for a moment before speaking again. "You're sure that was Adam? Sounds more like Little Joe."
"It does, doesn't it? But I promise you that was Adam. I can count on one hand the number of bad decisions my eldest son has made, but when he makes one…" Ben smiled and shook his head.
"Well, if you're gonna do somethin', do it properly, yeah?"
"Like you did tonight?"
"Just like that."
Ben chuckled again and took the water glass from Fionn's hand and set it on the nightstand. "You think you're all right?"
"Aye. The seas seem to be settlin'."
"Ok. Get some sleep. Holler if you need anything." Ben patted Fionn's arm and then rose and headed for the door. Just as he was turning out the lamp, Fionn spoke up again.
"Mr. Cartwright?"
"Yes?"
Fionn hesitated, and Ben could tell he was trying to decide exactly what and how much to say. "Thank you," he said at last. "Just, well, thank you."
"You're welcome. Sleep well, son."
Back upstairs, Josie's sickness had subsided, too, and Adam got her to drink a glass of water and then carried her back to bed. Little Joe had stumbled back to bed, too, and Adam rinsed out the tub and opened the washroom window to disperse the sour odor permeating the little room. He and Ben met in the hallway as they were both heading back to their own beds.
"Fionn ok?" Adam asked.
"Embarrassed and sick as a dog, but yes. How about Josie and Joe?"
"Same."
Ben shook his head. "If they get sick again, they're on their own."
"Agreed. Goodnight, Pa."
"Goodnight, Adam."
Josie woke the next morning feeling nearly as terrible as she had when she was first recovering from typhus back in the spring. The light coming in through her windows bored through her eyes and into her brain, and the scent of eggs and bacon wafting up the stairs made her stomach wobble again. She knew she had no one to blame but herself and that her uncle would never let her use a hangover as an excuse for lying in bed all day, so she rolled out of bed and onto the floor, where she sat for several minutes until the room stopped swaying. She finally staggered out of her bedroom, still wearing the same rumpled clothes she'd worn the day before. She stumbled down to the dining room, dropped into her seat, and laid her head down on the table. Pip ambled over, and Josie scratched his head halfheartedly. He'd returned during the night bearing a note from Molly thanking the Cartwrights for informing her of her no-good brother's whereabouts and asking them to please tell the scoundrel that if he ever embarrassed her this badly again she would drag his sorry hide down to Washoe Lake and drown him.
"Feeling poorly, my dear?" Ben asked with a smirk.
Josie raised her head and stared at him, her napkin sticking to her cheek. "Mrmph," she replied before lowering her head again. Ben and Adam broke out laughing, and Josie clapped her hands over her ears. "So loud. So very, very loud," she moaned.
Little Joe and Fionn staggered over to the table at the same time and plunked into chairs, looking every bit as haggard and miserable as Josie did. Little Joe dropped his head into his hands.
"Shoot me, Fionn," he pleaded. "Put me out of my misery."
"Only if you shoot me first," Fionn replied, laying his head back over the top of his chair.
"That doesn't make any sense!" Joe protested weakly. "How can you shoot me if I've already shot you?"
"Nobody's shooting anybody!" Ben thundered. Josie, Joe, and Fionn covered their ears and groaned as Ben's resonant voice rattled in their aching heads.
Hoss skipped down the stairs just then and glided over to the table, wishing everyone a most cheerful good morning. "Man, oh man, I am STARVING!" he said as he speared a huge stack of pancakes and dropped them onto his plate. Ben and Adam watched in amusement as the big man loaded his pancakes with butter and syrup and stuck a huge bite in his mouth. Only then did Hoss notice the state of his little brother, cousin, and friend. "What's the matter with them?" he asked, pointing his fork in their direction.
Ben and Adam burst out laughing again as Joe, Josie, and Fionn shot daggers at Hoss.
The hungover trio ate nothing that morning, not trusting their stomachs to accommodate anything heavier than coffee. When they were about to rise from the table, Ben cleared his throat.
"You four put Adam and Hop Sing and me to a lot of trouble last night."
Hoss, Josie, Little Joe, and Fionn stared down at their empty plates.
"Not only did we have to deal with three of you being violently ill, but you all made a huge mess of the living room, which the rest of us had to clean up."
The guilty four shrank in their seats.
"Sorry, Uncle Ben," Josie murmured. "It was sort of an accident."
"Accident?!" Ben thundered, splitting three aching heads again. "My dear young lady, no one 'accidentally' drinks himself into a bilious stupor! Now how do you propose to set this right, not only with your brother and me but with Hop Sing?"
"I s'pose Josie and Hoss and me could give him an extra day's wages," Little Joe suggested. When Ben just raised an eyebrow in reply, Joe added, "Or two days."
"Try four," Ben said. "One for each of you. You, Hoss, and Josie can each give him one and one-third days' pay."
"Yes, sir."
Josie glanced at Fionn and saw him reddening. She, Hoss, and Joe could easily come up with a day's wages apiece for Hop Sing, but cash was dear to the O'Connells. Like most small farmers in the area, Fionn bought on credit most of the year and repaid his debts after the fall harvest, and he'd need his remaining cash to purchase seeds and supplies for next year. Ben clearly was not expecting Fionn to contribute to the reparations, but Josie could sense how bad Fionn felt about the whole incident, and he didn't like feeling beholden to anyone. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something gracious to say that would let Fionn off the hook while preserving his dignity, when Fionn spoke up.
"I'm harvestin' the last of me crops this week, Mr. Cartwright. After that's done, I'll be over here helping you square the ranch away for winter. Ain't no one better at pluggin' drafts than the Irish."
"That's very kind of you, Fionn, but you are a guest here," Ben said. "My children should have put a stop to the whole thing before it got out of hand."
"No, Mr. Cartwright. I'll do my share the same as them."
"Thank you, son, that's very good of you." Ben reached over and squeezed Fionn's shoulder and frowned as his hand came away sticky; he'd forgotten that Fionn was still covered in cider. His gaze drifted to Fionn's hair, which was sticking up in sheaves held together by dried cider. "Maybe you'd like to take a bath before you head home. Joe can lend you a clean shirt."
Fionn smiled. "Aye, thank you, sir."
Ben gave no quarter that day. Right after Fionn's bath, he sent Fionn home and sent Joe out with Adam and Hoss to move some cattle to winter pasture. Josie thought she'd slip up to her room and go back to bed, but Ben saw her try to slink away and reminded her that she probably had patients who would expect her to be in her clinic. Josie heaved a sigh and trudged out to her clinic. As soon as she stepped inside the little building, she sat down at her desk and dropped her forehead onto the polished surface.
"Dear Lord," she prayed aloud. "If you truly are a merciful God, please keep everyone in Virginia City healthy today and in no need of medical attention. Amen." Then she fell asleep.
Josie's rest was broken only fifteen minutes later when the front door swung open. Josie's head snapped up, and she had to take several deep breaths to keep herself from retching again as a wave of nausea coursed through her. She blinked her gummy eyes to bring her patient into view.
"Josie!" Cameo Johnson rushed over to her desk. "Are you all right?"
"I think that's my line," Josie said, peeling a piece of paper off of her cheek. "But I'm ok. Just had a little too much fun last night. What can I do for you?"
Cameo complained of a sore throat, headache, and fatigue, and after a quick examination, Josie diagnosed a head cold. She gave Cameo some camphor oil and sent her on her way with instructions to call for her if she started running a fever. Josie had no sooner sat back down at her desk when Ellie Jenkins ushered her two boys and baby Josephine, now almost a year old and trying to walk, into the clinic. All three children had the same cold Cameo had, and Josie sent them home with another bottle of camphor, glad that she had purchased so many when she and Adam were in Sacramento. By the end of the day, however, Josie was out of camphor oil. Four more patients had come in with head colds, and by the time the fifth arrived just before Josie closed up, she had none left to give him. She had to send the man home with only a few packets of willow bark tea and instructions to rest for a few days. After closing up the clinic, Josie trudged back to the house. Her nausea had subsided, but despite the ridiculous amount of water she had drunk that day, her fingers and wrists ached from the dehydration. "Stupid boys and their stupid cider," she muttered as she kicked at a rooster that wouldn't get out of her way as she passed the barn.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Ben asked as Josie tumbled through the front door.
"Ugh."
Ben bit back a smug smile. "So what have we learned?"
"Beware of Irishmen bearing cider."
Ben chuckled and sent Josie upstairs to wash up for supper. It was just the two of them that night; Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe were sleeping out on the range to get an early start with the cattle the next morning. Josie took a little solace in knowing that Joe was most likely much more miserable than she was. After a light supper of chicken soup, biscuits, and ginger tea, Josie took a hot bath and went straight to bed, vowing that next time she would cut herself off after two jars of cider.
Fionn made good on his promise to help around the Ponderosa once his crops were harvested, and Ben put him to work stockpiling hay for their horses, chopping wood, and helping Hop Sing can the last of the produce from his garden behind the house. When all that was finished, Adam enlisted his help installing the indoor plumbing in Hoss and Patience's nearly finished house. Fionn was especially fascinated by this process and asked Adam all sorts of questions about how the plumbing worked and how much he thought it would cost to retrofit an older house to accommodate it.
"Sure would love to give Molly somethin' like this," he mused wistfully as he and Adam hooked up the pipes for the bathtub.
Adam studied the younger man for a moment and then said, "You know, Fionn, I've been really impressed with how hard you've been working around here lately. You've more than repaid a day of Hop Sing's wages. I'm sure you have plenty to keep you busy on the farm, but if you find yourself with some extra time this winter – and the weather cooperates – I could find plenty for you to do around here to earn yourself some extra money to buy everything you'd need."
Fionn stared at Adam in surprise. "Apart from keepin' the house warm and the cow milked, there's not much to do durin' the winter," he said. "But I don't have anywhere in that old house to put somethin' like this." He gestured around at the huge bathroom with its enormous tub."
Adam stared at the ceiling while he visualized Molly and Fionn's house. "We could build you a little addition just off your kitchen," he said. "That would make the piping really easy; you wouldn't need much to run hot water from the stove to the tub. And you and Molly wouldn't need anything nearly this big. Keep in mind that everything in here was sized for Hoss."
Fionn laughed. "Aye, suppose it was, wasn't it? That would be grand, Adam, but I can't take anythin' more from your family. You've done too much for me as it is."
"What have we done?" Adam asked. "Josie gave you a dog. That's really it."
"You've done more than you know," Fionn replied. "And I can't take any more."
"You wouldn't be taking it. You'd be earning it. Besides, you'd be doing me a big favor. I hate winter chores. They're cold." When Fionn remained unconvinced, Adam added, "Think how happy an indoor washroom would make Molly."
That did it.
"That's not fair, Cartwright," Fionn said, shaking a finger at Adam. "You shouldn't hit a man right in the sister like that."
Adam laughed, and as they finished up their work, the two men began planning how and when to build a washroom at Fionn and Molly's house.
On Halloween, the Cartwrights rode into town just before noon to help Josie, Little Joe, Fionn, Patience, and Sally get everything set up for the Fall Festival. They left the apple cider at home, Hoss, Josie, Little Joe, and Fionn having chosen to save it for Hoss's wedding reception in two months. By the time the family reached the field outside of town, a dozen booths had already gone up. At one, the owner of the International House was selling hot drinks and bowls of soup, Cora Milford was selling pies at another, and Will Cass had a colorful display of penny candy. All of the merchants had agreed to donate their profits to the library and school-bell funds. Josie was especially excited that a traveling photographer happened to be in town just then and had also signed up for a booth, and before the festival really kicked off, she dragged Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe over to the makeshift photography studio to have a portrait done of the four of them for Ben's Christmas gift.
By midafternoon, the festival was in full swing. Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe had won the adults' tug-of-war match with ease, and a 12-year-old girl had bested all the other children in the spelling bee. Josie spent the entire day on Fionn's arm as they circulated among the townspeople, thanking them all for attending. When a young reporter from the Territorial Enterprise approached them for an interview, Fionn stepped back, letting Josie have the spotlight. She asked the young man, whose name they learned, was Samuel Clemens, to hold on a moment while she darted across the field to extract Little Joe from a bevy of young ladies and grab Patience and Sally, too. Josie insisted Mr. Clemens interview all five of them, since they had all had a hand in organizing the festival.
"And the library was Little Joe's idea in the first place," she pointed out.
Adam and Molly watched from a distance as the interview took place, both of them nearly bursting with pride. Adam laughed as a little boy in a black cape and a pair of pointed black bat ears zipped by them, hotly pursued by an even smaller girl in a witch's hat.
"Your handiwork?" Adam asked Molly.
"Yes, among many!" she said, pointing around the field to dozens of other children dressed as clowns, Indians, and many more bats and witches.
The field was abuzz all afternoon with taffy-pulling, horseshoes, the costume contest, and apple-bobbing. At dinnertime, the International House's booth started selling chicken dinners, and the schoolchildren of Virginia City serenaded the townspeople as they ate. Though the evening was cool, everyone stuck around for dancing when the sun went down. Josie grabbed Fionn without hesitation, and the pair of them danced for hours. Time flew by so fast that Josie was surprised when Adam snagged her for the last dance.
When the money was counted up, Sally announced to loud cheers and applause that the festival had generated nearly $400 to be split between the school and the library – money that John Billings immediately deposited in his bank's safe. Josie drew further applause when she announced that the library would open November 9 with Abigail Myers' free literacy classes beginning on the 14th.
Happier than she had been in months, Josie hugged all of her friends before they left that evening, holding onto Fionn just a little longer than the others.