Thank you so much for the reviews and for following! I'm glad you all like Wavoka. He was a fun character to write. Enjoy Chapter 11!
~CHAPTER 11~
The inquiry seemed so simple and innocent, and yet it brought Hoss and Little Joe to their feet and drew a shocked look from Adam. Joe's first instinct was to look around for any sign of their alleged followers.
Adam continued to question Wavoka. "What strange men? How long have you seen them? Where have you seen them?" The questions kept pouring out of him, so strong was his urgency to learn something, anything he could from this Indian who might just have the answers they'd been seeking.
"I see them since you say Ben Cartwright die. I see them follow you many times, all of you," he added, turning his attention to Joe and Hoss. "Wavoka many times wander up high in mountains. See very far, many things. Never understand until now."
Hoss prodded his brother. "You reckon they're watchin' us tuh find out when they can pull another job?"
"It would seem so. That's how they know every move we make, where we go, what we do. I can't believe we've never noticed them before…" That I've never noticed them before, Adam thought dryly, wondering how many other things he'd failed to discover.
"Wavoka, these men, were they familiar to you at all?"
"No, Adam Cartwright. Wavoka, never see men before. Strangers that move as quick and quiet as shadows. After they follow you, disappear."
"Where? Do you see where they go?" Adam prompted.
"High up in mountains. Wavoka never follow."
Adam grasped the Indian's arm. "Thank you, my friend. You'll never know what a great service you have done us."
After a moment's hesitation Wavoka responded, "Ben Cartwright always treat Paiute fair. Wavoka believe the same is with his sons. I hope you find all you seek, Adam Cartwright."
"I hope now we will," he said, releasing his friend's arm and turning to where Hoss and Joe had already saddled the horses. Upon hearing Wavoka's information, they turned to the horses in hopes of possibly seeing these strangers on their return journey before the sun fell any lower in the sky. Adam was about to mount when he stopped and, turning back to the Indian, spoke in low serious tones. "Wavoka, the Paiute are honorable people. As you say, my father has done many things for the Paiute. I don't know yet what's going to happen, but if the need arises, may we ask for help from our red brother again?"
The Indian's features became even more solemn and his back became rigid as he said, "The Paiute will stand with their white brothers."
The Cartwrights hardly noticed their fatigue as they arrived back at the ranch house late that evening. For once, instead of discouragement they all felt a ray of hope, hope that soon everything would be resolved. The stars were just starting to speckle the sky when they rode into the yard. After untacking the horses and making sure they got extra feed, they started for the house, which was almost completely dark except for a small glow of light coming from the kitchen. Almost immediately Hop Sing ran out of the side door, broadening the light from the single candle he had kept burning, worry and relief evident in his black eyes. "Where you been? Hop Sing wolly all time you gone. Say you be back soon. Not back till dark." They all smiled as they approached, listening to the little man continue his tirade for several more seconds before he suddenly stopped and asked, "You find out someding?"
Hoss chuckled. "Yes, we did Hop Sing, and we'll tell you all about it over some food. My stomach's about to give me what fer for not fillin' it prit'near all day."
"Got plenty food, waiting. You come," he ordered, beckoning and leading the way back into his kitchen.
An hour or so later with their stomachs now quite full, Adam, Hoss and Joe seated themselves around their father's desk and started discussing their plan of action. The excitement buzzing through the room made each one think he would not be able to get an ounce of sleep that night as the three talked and discussed on into the night. However, as the clock started striking the early morning hours, Hoss said with a yawn, "I don't know about you two, but if we're plannin' to do much of anythin' tomorrow I'm gonna at least try tuh get some shut eye."
"Well, I'll try older brother, but I doubt it'll do a lick of good," Joe commented, easing himself off the desk where he'd been sitting. As he started after Hoss up the stairs, he noticed Adam wasn't following and turned to see his brother still sitting at the desk. "You comin', Adam?"
"I'll be up in a while, Joe," he replied, not even looking up from the papers in his hands. Not really knowing why, he'd asked Roy for the files of men confined in and around the Illinois State Prison where their Sam Chapman was known to have spent time, hoping something would spark a remembrance of any kind.
Joe smiled a sad smile at his brother's diligence. "G'night, Adam," he called before continuing up the stairs and to his room.
"Goodnight, Joe."
After another hour of pouring over file after file yielded nothing, Adam disgustedly dropped the one he was reading onto the desk. He slowly brought his hands over his face, stopping to rub his eyes behind which a nasty headache had slowly begun to brew. All that had happened since that morning seemed to overwhelm him, and he dropped his hand onto his lap, realizing just how exhausted he was. He brought his head up from its drooped position and rested his eyes on the familiar four framed pictures sitting on the edge of the desk. There was one of each of Ben Cartwright's cherished wives, and the fourth was that of his sons that they had given him as a birthday present... it would've been two years ago now. Adam's hazel eyes ran meticulously over each one, savoring every well-loved face. He sighed heavily to himself and pushed away from the desk, turning down the oil lamp on the round table at the bottom of the stairs as he strode past, no longer being able to ignore the call of his bed.
He tread quietly as he passed the first room, Hoss's resounding snores coming from within. At the second, since no sound could be heard, Adam wondered if Joe was asleep. Not wanting to check for fear he'd wake him if he was, Adam continued on to the third room on the right. Going in, he shivered as the cold dampness made its presence known and rushed Adam's movements to get between the warm covers of his bed all the more. He didn't even bother to light a candle, but proceeded to shuck his shirt and unbuckle his belt by the dim moonlight that streamed through the single frost-covered window. As tired as he was and with head lowered, he must've misjudged the distance to his bed for he suddenly ran in to his sideboard, making him jerk back in shock. The piece of furniture was hit so hard that its reacting shudder made something fall to the floor, creating a loud clunk as it connected with the hardwood floor. Adam identified the object immediately as its soft-playing melody instantly filled the room. He momentarily forgot his aching shin bone as he sat down and bent to recover his mother's fallen music box.
Just as he was about to pick it up, a memory out of nowhere blazed through his mind, etched into his brain a time long ago when the same music box had fallen, and a woman's gentle hands had picked it up and given it back to a young dark-haired boy lying sick in a truckle bed. With the thought of his step-mother came even more memories of where he had been, why he was there, what he and his Pa were doing. One of the nicest boarding houses he had ever been in was in that little town...
Adam froze in his movements, his hand not even yet touched what he had intended to pick up as the full reality of what he remembered struck him in the face. Quickly picking up the box and closing its lid in an attempt to not wake his brothers with its song, he set it back on the sideboard and hurried quickly back out his door and down the hallway, retracing his recent steps back to his father's desk. Could he be right? Could a connection actually be made? Hopefully he could find out for certain.