The Beauty of Darkness - FOUR

oooooooooo

"Child. Child! Get your head out of the clouds!"

Lessy blinked and roused herself. She glanced down at Jorie, who had fallen asleep at her breast, before responding to the older woman. "Have you been there long?"

"Long enough," Otie said with a shake of her head. "George is here to take his granddaughter to meet her cousins and I can see you are far from ready."

She was weary. She'd been up half the night thinking.

"I've just finished feeding her. Would it be all right if I stayed here? I can prepare a bottle." Hand breast pumps were a new-fangled thing, but she'd mastered the use of one.

Otie came to her side. "Are you ill?"

Lessy shook her head. "Just tired. It's been a bit of a whirlwind since we came to Virginia City. I'm afraid I don't feel up to more socializing."

She surrendered Jorie to the older woman's arms. It was both a relief and an injury to do so. The older woman gazed at the baby, smiled, and nodded her head. "Cousin Mildred is going to be there. She can take care of Jorie."

"Oh, no! You should go too. I don't want to keep you away from your family."

Otie reached out to touch her cheek. "Child. Don't you know by now? You are my family." She started for the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Lessy watched her go and then turned back to the window. She had to consider what she was going to say. She'd spent most of the night feeling guilty. Brown had been gone less than six months.

She shouldn't be thinking of another man.

"It's Little Joe Cartwright, isn't it?" Otie asked as she returned.

The young woman blushed. "Why…no…."

Otie sat beside her and took her hand. "He's quite a handsome young man. Just like his father did in his youth, Joe Cartwright turns all the girls' heads."

Lessy dropped hers. "I suppose he has a girl."

"He did," the older woman said. "She died."

"Oh? He didn't say anything."

"That's men, dear. They don't talk – they do." The older woman rose and walked over to the mantelpiece where she occupied herself straightening a photo frame. "I don't know all the details. One of Ben's old friends, a sea captain, came to the Ponderosa. Apparently Joe and his daughter Laura knew one another when they were children. She had blossomed, of course, and the pair fell in love. No sooner had their engagement been announced than the poor child was gone. I hesitated to ask Ben about it, they were all so sad. It appears she was ill all the time and Little Joe knew nothing of it."

"You mean her father hid the truth about her condition?"

"So it seems."

"How horrible!"

"So, you see, dear, the young man is as wounded as you are. You must tread carefully. It is far too easy for two wounded chicks to seek to strengthen one another when neither has the strength to help themselves."

"Little Joe is just a friend!" she declared. "Well, hardly even that. I only met him the once. And besides that, Brown has been gone less than a year. It would be unseemly…"

Otie was at her side again and took her hand. "Pish-tosh! What does the heart care for 'seemly'? Now, my dear, George is still waiting. I think you should put yourself right and we will all go out together."

"You didn't send him on?"

"No. On second thought, I believe it would be best for you to accompany us. You are far too vulnerable, my dear, even for the likes of a gallant young gentleman like Joseph Cartwright."

"I think…." Lessy paused. She didn't want to offend the older woman. She liked her too much. "I think…even if I had a feeling for Joe Cartwright, it would be up to me to decide what to do about it. Wouldn't it?"

"Of course, my dear, but I beg of you to remember one thing."

"And what is that?" she asked smartly.

"Sometimes the person you fall for isn't ready to catch you."

oooooooooo

Adam cleared his throat and waited.

Nothing. Hoss kept brushing Chubb's black coat like he'd turn it white.

So he tried again.

There was a slight pause and then the brush moved again. "Go away, Adam. I don't want to talk."

"That makes two of us then," he replied.

His younger brother looked over his shoulder. "Huh?"

Adam moved into the barn. "I don't want to talk either, but I think we should."

"About what?"'

There was a warning in those two words.

Adam shrugged as he moved to the other side of the black. "About the weather? Politics, maybe? How about Joe and Pa?" He placed his hand deliberately on either side of the brush as he met his brother's defiant stare. "Or, maybe, ourselves."

"There ain't nothin' to say," the big man grunted and turned away.

"Would you take that answer from me?"

Hoss halted. "What?"

"I said, would you accept that answer from me? Haven't you been goading me – " He rephrased it. "Haven't all of you been encouraging me to talk about what happened?"

The big man turned toward him. "Yeah, but you ain't. And I ain't gonna neither. No good will come of it."

"No, I guess not." Adam took a seat on a nearby hay bale. "It's better to leave it untended and let it fester and rot."

"Let what fester and rot?" his brother demanded.

"Grief. Shame." Adam paused. "Pride."

"I ain't proud."

"Yes, you are. So proud you can't bear the thought that the woman you loved didn't love you."

"Adam, you watch what you're sayin'…."

"We're all proud. That's what makes us Cartwrights," he replied. "Proud of our pa. Proud of this land. Proud of what he's made of it. Proud to be who we are; of all that we have. Proud simply of being a Cartwright." Adam pointed to the sky. "One day the gods looked down from Elysium and, with great beneficence, chose Benjamin Cartwright out of all of mankind to bestow their bounty and blessings upon, with the promise that there would never be anything he could not overcome."

"You ain't makin' any sense, older brother."

"Yes. Yes, I am!" He rose and began to pace. "Pa loses one wife. He finds another. The Indians kill her and there is a third. She dies too but, like the righteous man he is, Ben Cartwright holds onto who he is and rises up from the ashes of despair to possess thousands of acres of fertile land replete with cattle, timber and more, to leave as a legacy to their three fine sons." He laughed – the sound of it was a bit hysterical even in his own ears. "We should have seen it coming."

Hoss was eying him strangely. "Seen what comin', older brother?"

His words were a whisper. "The whirlwind."

The big man blew out a breath. He placed the brush on the table behind him and then rounded Chubb to stand at his side. "Lookee here, Adam, I ain't sure of what you're talkin' about, but I am sure of one thing. I'm mad as Hell. I'm mad at Margie for wantin' more than I could give her, and for choosin' that low-down snake over me on account of he promised her somethin' he didn't have to give. I'm mad at Marc Connors for existin', and I guess that means I'm mad at God too for creatin' him in the first place!" Hoss shook his head. "I'm mad at me too for lettin' her get away and for not stoppin' Margie from goin' with him. I shoulda done somethin'. I shoulda made her listen."

Adam shook his head. "She thought she was in love."

"That ain't it, Adam. I don't think she did. I think she…loved me. Trouble was, she loved what she thought Marc Connors could give her more."

"Et tu, brute," he said softly.

"Huh?"

"The fatal flaw. Pride, misplaced trust, excessive curiosity, lack of self-control." Adam swallowed. "Hubris.".

"What's that?"

"Hubris is the characteristic of excessive confidence or arrogance, which leads a person to believe that they may do no wrong."

"I don't think that. I know I done wrong. So did Margie."

Adam stared at his brother. "What makes you think I was talking about you?"

Hoss scratched his head. "So who you talkin' about then? You? Adam, Peter Kane was a madman. From what little you told us about what happened, it sure seems he did everythin' in his power to make you kill him."

"Because I said I wouldn't." He paled. "Because I thought I couldn't."

"Adam…."

"But I did." He thrust arms before him. "With these hands. Kane chose to break me because I was so damned sure I couldn't be broken. Because of my arrogance. Because of my God-damned pride!" The man in black closed his eyes. They burned with unspent tears.

He had no more to spend.

Without another word Adam turned and left the barn. He mounted his horse and galloped out of the yard.

Joe had been wrong. He'd wanted his little brother to be right. All his life, words had saved him.

Now, they damned him.

oooooooooo

Ben Cartwright pulled up short. Hoss had stepped out of the barn and nearly run into him. He gave his son a brief smile and then asked, "Where is your brother going?"

The big man's answer was gruff. "I don't rightly know. Away, I guess."

Fear narrowed his eyes. "Away?"

"Shucks, Pa. I don't mean it like that. Seems I been bitin' just about everyone's head off lately." Hoss sighed. "It's just that Adam's hurtin' and well, you know how he is."

Yes, he did. His eldest son believed himself invincible – or at least believed he needed to appear that way to his younger brothers. Ben looked in the direction Adam had gone and then turned back to his middle son.

This one was hurting as well.

"How are you, Hoss?"

Inger's son shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Define 'okay'."

Hoss looked startled, and then laughed. "You sound just like older brother."

"Words are important, son." He paused. "What would you think if Joseph told you he was 'okay'?"

"I'd know the ornery little cuss was lyin'."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?" His son looked puzzled, then rolled his eyes. "I ain't lyin', Pa. Not really. I mean, I am okay…in some ways."

"And…."

Hoss pursed his lips. "You ain't gonna like it."

Ben scoffed. "There's nothing about what's going on right now that I do like!"

The big man drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. "Well, I guess – sir – you see…. I'm just plain mad at the Man upstairs!"

"You're mad at God?"

"Yes, sir." He nodded. "There. I said it."

The rancher eyed the sky. "Still clear," he said.

His son looked too. Then he looked at him. "You expectin' somethin'?"

"No. but you were."

Hoss frowned. "You feelin' okay, Pa? You sure you don't need to go sit down or nothin'?"

"I'm fine. And so are you." Ben turned his eyes upward again. "No lightning bolt."

It had been a long time since Hoss was a little boy. Even as an adolescent he had been taller and weighed more than most full grown men. Still, there were times when Ben could see the child the big man had been. It shone mostly from his son's eyes, but that wide-eyed innocence also turned up the corners of his lips in a special way.

"Aw, shucks! You mean I done told God I was mad at Him and He didn't strike me dead or nothin'."

The rancher placed a hand on his son's arm. "That's exactly what I mean. God had broad shoulders, son. He can take your anger."

"But Pa...it just don't feel right. I mean, God's been good to me…to us...but, well…. He just shouldn't have let it happen!"

"Marjorie and Marcus, you mean?"

His son's jaw tightened. "You always told us that God makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him. Marjorie done went to church. She was a good woman."

"And she's dead. Unfairly."

The boy nodded.

They were his own words, spoken so long ago in the wake of Elizabeth's death. His first wife was a beautiful, intelligent woman. Thoughtful and caring. Filled with loving-kindness. She would have made an amazing mother. There had been dreams of a large family and of a long life together.

And then, she was gone.

Angry?

Hoss didn't know the meaning of the word.

"Pa?"

Ben hesitated. How to put it? It was true God promised 'good' to all who loved Him, just as He promised a future to prosper a man and not to harm him. But what did that future look like? Was it the one they with their limited human vision could see, or another far better one planned and executed by an omnipotent and loving Father? He and Elizabeth would have had more children, but they would not have been the children he had. Neither Hoss nor Little Joe would have existed. He would not have known Inger or Marie. Most likely, he would have gone on to take the lead in Able Stoddard's shipping line and spent half of his life at sea. He would not have seen his children grow. There would have been no Ponderosa; no thousand acres of Heaven.

Who is man that Thou art mindful of him?

"Sorry, son. I was lost in my thoughts. I don't have a clear answer for you. Each man has to find his own. All I can tell you is that I have lived half a century, and in that time I have learned to see God's hand in both the good and the bad."

"Can you see it in Jimmy Partridge's death?" Hoss asked sharply. Then he paled. "Sorry, Pa."

"No." Ben let out a sigh. "No. It's a valid question and deserves an honest answer. No, I can't. Now." His smile was slight but heartfelt. "But I will one day. I have faith."

"I sure wish I had faith strong as yours, Pa."

Ben squeezed the massive shoulder. "You do. I've seen it. You'll see it too in time."

His son returned his smile. "Well, I best be getting' about my chores. Them horses ain't gonna feed themselves. Say…."

"What?"

"Little Joe was supposed to be back by sundown to help me." Hoss looked in the direction his brother had gone that morning. "Him and Danny should have been here by now. Shouldn't they?"

Ben turned to look as well "You know, come to think of it, I saw Thom ride in a while back. I just assumed Danny and Joe would follow. I'll check with him."

"Let me do it," his son said. "You look all done in."

He was tired, It had been a long day. But then, Hoss was tired too.

"And you aren't?"

"Aw, shucks. Sure I'm tired, but I got me somethin' that'll give me a second wind."

Ben was puzzled. "And what's that?"

The big man grinned. "Takin' my 'tired' out on my baby brother's hide. Knowin' Joe, him and Danny decided they'd had enough and took off for town to wet their whistle." Hoss' lips straightened and his ice blue eyes narrowed. "You just wait 'til I get hold of that boy!"

The rancher laughed and it felt good.

"Well, don't take more than your pound of flesh. Your brother can't afford to lose it!"

Hoss laughed as well. A second later, he seemed to think better of it. A cloud passed over his face, one of sadness mingled with guilt.

And just a little bit of hope.

"You get some rest, Pa. I'll go get Little Joe."

oooooooooo

Hoss' hand came down a little heavier on the bunkhouse door than intended. Not because he was mad, but because he was in a hurry. The thought of a ride into town, with four, maybe five hours to think about what he and his Pa had discussed was appealing. Pa'd said a lot of things that made sense. The big man grinned. Still, even more appealing was the idea of huntin' down his little brother. He felt like poundin' somethin' and Little Joe would do. Course that was only because Little Joe needed to pound somethin' too.

Maybe breakin' up a saloon would make them both feel better.

Sam wouldn't mind. 'Specially when he slapped half of this week's wages on the counter before they got to it. They probably wouldn't break nothin' but a table or two, and maybe some of them cheap glasses on the shelf behind the counter. Hoss scowled as he rapped again. It'd be good if they missed the gilded mirror on account of the fact that it came out of San Francisco and they'd have to sell boththeir saddles and their horses to pay for it!

Finally the door opened. It was Deke who showed. He was one of the younger hands they had.

The young man grinned his apology. "Hey there, Hoss! You caught us in the middle of a round. Had to wait 'til we was finished."

"You win?" Hoss asked.

The brown-haired man was about Little Joe's age. He'd come out of California and was about as able a wrangler as he'd ever met.

"Sure did! You want to sit in?"

Hoss shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm looking for Thom Barker. You seen him?"

Deke turned into the room. "Thom?"

Hoss heard the other man reply and, a few seconds later, Thom appeared. The older man's look was puzzled until he saw him standing there.

Then it became downright guilty.

"Hey there, Hoss. You need something?"

"I need to talk to you a minute, Thom."

"What'd you do, Thom? Forget to close the corral gate?" a voice called out.

"Maybe he forgot Little Joe," another one answered.

A third hooted. "I bet he mistook Joe for an ornery beeve, trussed him up and left him beside the road instead!"

Thom rolled his eyes as he stepped out the door and closed it behind him. "Sorry about that. They don't mean no disrespect. They all like Joe."

The big man laughed. "That's okay. The idea of trussin' up Little Joe and leavin' him by the side of the road has crossed my mind often enough. Fact is, I think I might have done a time or two."

The guilty look deepened.

"You got somethin' you need to tell me, Thom?"

The older man sighed. "God must have heard my prayers."

"What's God got to do with this?"

He winced. "I was prayin' you was gonna be the one to ask me that question and not your pa or Adam. I kind of promised Little Joe I wouldn't say anything."

Hoss sighed. "What's little brother done now?"

"Nothing. At least, nothing…yet."

He studied the other man. The best way he could put it, was that Thom appeared uneasy.

"Maybe I should rephrase that – what's little brother thinkin' of doin' that he don't want our pa or Adam to know he's doin'?"

Thom scratched his head. "Well, you know we went out to fix the fence."

"Yeah."

"It was kind of peculiar. It looked like the river had overflowed and washed it away, but then again…it didn't. Adam said –"

"Big brother was there?" That must have been before Adam came back home and they had their…discussion.

"Yeah. When I first saw it, I thought maybe someone took the fence out on purpose. Adam did too, but in the end we decided the river did it. Nothin' else made sense. There weren't nowhere to hide cattle or nothin'." Thom paled. "Little Joe, well, he had other ideas."

"What ideas?"

"Rustlers."

"Rustlers?"

Thom nodded. "Seemed kind of far-fetched to me, but you know Little Joe. Once he's got an idea in his head…."

Once little brother got an idea in that curly head of his, he was so stubborn he wouldn't move camp for a prairie fire!

"Yeah, I know." Hoss felt his stomach flop. He told himself it was because he was hungry. He didn't want to think it might be fear. "So what's this 'thing' Joe decided to do?"

"We finished work and rode off. I came here, but him and Danny went back to keep watch." Thom looked a little sick too. "Joe promised they'd do just that and, if any rustlers did show up, they'd follow a ways and then hightail it for home."

If they saw the rustlers first and the rustlers didn't get the drop on them.

Hoss swallowed hard. "How long ago was this?"

Thom glanced at the sky. "Four. Maybe five hours."

The big man considered what to do. Adam was God only knew where. Pa, well, the three of them had put Pa through enough these last few weeks. The older man was right where he needed to be – restin'. That left him. Odds were there was nothin' to worry about, but – and this was the funny thing – in a way he was glad to have somethin' to worry about. When he lost Margie, somethin' inside him – somethin' dark – told him he'd lost it all and there was nothin' left that mattered.

It was a lie. He still had plenty left to lose.

Hoss shifted his hat forward on his head and turned toward the barn.

Somethin' told him he'd best 'high-tail' it now and find that ornery little brother of his, if he didn't want Little Joe to be the next thing.

oooooooooo

To be continued….