Bright and early on Friday, two days later, Hoss woke up and dressed quickly. Tucking his long shirttails into his pants, he grabbed his brown vest and black boots before tiptoeing out into the quiet hallway. Moving more gracefully than a man of his size could be expected to, he stepped across the floor and knocked on his big brother's bedroom door. There wasn't any response so he tentatively turned the knob and entered. He smiled upon catching sight of his older brother.
Adam was out cold, snoring softly. His right arm was thrown over his closed eyes, his left was sprawled across the bed. His mouth was hanging open and the sheets were tangled up around his legs. All in all, the scene seemed more suited to Joe's carefree personality than the eldest's stoic style. Everything was not well, however, as evidenced by the frown pulling at the corners of Adam's mouth. His head twisted to the side and he muttered softly, seeming to be upset by what he was witnessing.
As loathed as he was to disturb his dreaming sibling, Hoss also knew that trouble would ensue if he didn't. Nightmares often plagued his brother and he had been known to do both harm to himself and others during the episodes. Caution teased around the edges of Hoss' mind as he stepped to the bedside and extended both hands to grip Adam's bare shoulders. The simple touch brought about far more than what was intended. A cry filled the room as the sleeping man reared up, gasping for breath as he thrashed wildly and struck out at his assailant.
"Adam! Adam! Wake up, you're dreamin'!" Hoss yelled, shaking his brother hard.
Adam's eyes popped open, horror replacing the rage that could be found in their depths. He blinked rapidly and released Hoss' shirt, hastily pushing himself away. He opened his mouth but couldn't seem to form any words. Sweat glistened on his forehead and he dipped his head to rest in his right hand. A tremor went through his body as he exhaled, a shaky rattle then present in his inhale.
Hoss was concerned. Sitting next to his older brother, he reached for a thick blanket and draped it around Adam's back. "Are ya doing okay there, brother? Want to talk about it?"
"Not really. But...thanks for waking me up."
"No problem," Hoss chuckled without humor, putting his arm around Adam's shoulders. "I don't want ta push you none but you can't keep it all bottled up inside all the time. You've been a caged wild cat the last two days and I sleep in the room next to you, remember? I know you've been having trouble sleeping, I can hear your pacin' at night." When there was nothing said, he decided to do something he didn't usually do...push a response. "Listen, Adam...are you going to tell me what's bothering you or what? I know there's something so give it up. If you can trust anyone, you can trust me and Pa and Joe."
Adam finally looked up, his hand dropping listlessly into his lap. His face was clouded and troubled, faded dark circles present under his eyes. "The dreams about...him...stopped many months ago but now they're back. He isn't hurting me this time though."
Hoss felt his stomach tighten upon thinking of Peter Kane and of that nightmare nearly four years earlier. He forced himself to focus on his tortured brother. He released his hold on Adam's shoulders, knowing that space needed to be given. "Who's he hurting, Adam?" When there was no answer, only sullen silence, Hoss started thinking. "Is it me or Joe?"
Silence.
"Is it Pa?"
Silence
"Is it Hop Sing, maybe?"
Silence.
Hoss had a sudden revelation. "It's Reda...isn't it? She's the one who's getting hurt."
Looking up, Adam's face betrayed his surprise but then he nodded despondently. "Yes...I'm tied up to a chair, in her cabin, and he is...taking liberties with her while he forces me to watch. I am helpless, only able to look into her eyes while he defiles her beauty. He tells me that I am worthless, more of a failure than even he had thought possible. He tells me that even an animal would at least struggle, not sit there unmoving. He says that while knowing that I am tied too tight to move! She never breaks eye contact during the dream. She just...lies there under him, staring at me and looks disappointed that I'm not helping her."
Hoss sighed and shook his head, trying to find the best words with which to comfort. Getting up, Adam snatched his shirt from the chair nearby and threw it on, his fingers flying as he buttoned the front. While stuffing his shirttails into his pants, he looked urgently to his brother still sitting on the messed bed.
"Well, are we going now or not? I want to leave before Pa is up. I don't need any more delays right now and he will try to dissuade me again."
Conflicted, Hoss rose and stood, wanting to argue but the clenched set of Adam's jaw and the slant of his leaning body declared that no argument would be tolerated. The younger man shrugged and Adam grinned, grabbing his gunbelt and buckling it about his hips.
"Let's stop wasting time then. I need to see her now! Supplies are gathered in the barn, they just need to be loaded onto a packhorse. Could you do that? I'll grab our food provisions and meet you there."
Hoss stood without comment as he was clapped on the shoulder and left alone. He listened to the quiet footsteps going down the stairs, looked around at the state that the bedroom had been left in and then slowly followed. Going down the stairs, he walked over to the credenza to collect his hat and buckle on his own gunbelt but not before he glanced over to the office where Adam was hunched over the desk, obviously writing a note for their father, Joe and Hop Sing. The big man sighed, his heart weighed down by an uneasiness as he closed the door behind himself.
I* * * * *I
Humming a happy tune under his breath, Hop Sing pounded his fists into the bread dough he was going to bake for breakfast. Back and forth, to and fro, he rolled the stiff mass, working the yeast into a frenzy. He cut the dough into smaller balls and placed them tightly in a cast-iron skillet that had been heating on the huge kitchen stove. He opened the oven door, waiting for the blistering heat to dissipate before placing the skillet inside.
The aroma of baked bread filled the warm kitchen and he smiled, breathing in deeply. He rinsed his hands off at the sink and paused to gaze out of the window at the scene below. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, sending its pink and purple rays streaming through the forests. The great lake sparkled in the distance, framed by mountains, pine trees and flowering meadows; the scene was the perfect example of the American freedom that he had traveled so far to see. But despite the beauty before him, a wave of sadness overtook the contentment that filled his soul.
There had been so much stress and worry that last few days and he was more than ready to forget the horror of almost losing Number One Son, yet again. Time after time, each member of the Cartwright family had suffered hardships that they were far from deserving and, who had to watch as each one struggled? Hop Sing-son, that was who. And each time, it pained the loyal caretaker. He would prepare food and tea, provide countless comforts but all the while feeling completely helpless. There was that barrier between employer and servant that he respected but that kept him isolated at times.
When he had come to the United States of America those decades ago, he had known no one nor knew what to do with himself. He had escaped from his conflicted homeland to find a new hope. As the chief cook and housekeeper of the Ponderosa, he enjoyed a certain level of amenity among his fellow Chinamen wherever he went but the job also came with a darker side. He toiled out of love, as he was now, for a family that had been his saving grace all those years ago but that same affection also held a double-edged sword.
With a heavy sigh, he reached up and opened the window, swinging the panels wide. The suffocating heat in the kitchen temporarily vanished under the kiss of the cooling breeze and it was a blessed relief. He turned and got back to work, placing two more cast-iron pans on the stove-top. Opening the icebox, he withdrew a tray of eggs and the small bucket of milk. He put those items on the island and gathered a dozen potatoes and four onions from the bin. While keeping up a continuous stream of mutterings to himself, he sliced up the root vegetables and dumped the whole lot into the left skillet.
The aroma of cooking onions caressed his nose and he nodded with satisfaction. He wiped his hands on his apron and gathered up the potato and onion shavings to dump in the slop bucket. A faint knock sounded on the back door. He stood straight, his eyebrows furrowing. It was much too early for anyone to be calling, much less at the backdoor. Quickly, he grabbed a meat cleaver and angled his body behind the door before opening it. He was more than surprised to find the seamstress there at the doorstep, holding a bundle in her arms.
"Why, hello, Missy Angelina! You up early like pretty bird!" he grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Come in, come in out of cold."
A small smile turned up one corner of the young woman's rose lips as she stepped inside although the upturn was hidden behind the black veil she wore. "It is very good to see you, Hop Sing, so very good." When she spoke, her soft voice enchanted him once again as she set the package on the island and lifted the sheer fabric from her face. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to fill the room and her elegant presence helped Hop Sing forget his melancholy. The beautiful young woman looked around at the breakfast food items and a look of dismay crossed her pale features.
"Oh dear, I seem to have interrupted the family's breakfast preparations. I simply came to drop off Adam's mended garments to you. I have closed the seamstress' shop so you will have to find such services elsewhere now, I'm afraid."
"Missy never interrupt Hop Sing. Why you close shop? I stop to talk a day ago but the sign was closed. Do fine work! Velly fine work, keep Cartwright family in mended clothes for past year. Worry fills Hop Sing's heart for his little friend."
The smile returned to Angelina's face as she stepped forward and placed a hand on the cook's arm. "Thank you, Hop Sing, but I have met someone special. As of yet, I am not sure what his intentions truly are but I wish to place my destiny in his hands."
Hop Sing shook his head and led the girl to sit at the kitchen table. He took a seat next to her and reached for her small hands to hold within his own. Looking into her eyes, he tried to find the right words. "I happy that Missy has found a man to be loved by but too risky to give up all. Should wait and talk to him first. Forgive Hop Sing but worry demands I tell these things. I want happiness for Missy, not more sorrow."
Angelina nodded sadly, her eyes cast down. "I understand your concerns but I am so tired of Life, as it stands now. I want something more and I have the chance. This man may be my salvation but if not, I have no real care. I will do as he wishes and he will be my world and my life or...simply, my death."
Hop Sing was unsure how to reply. His head was arguing in a thousand different directions but his heart understood what she was trying to convey. So he simply smiled, patted her hands and stood to return to the stove. He poked his frustrations into the frying potatoes, turning their browned sides up to be hardened by the air. As he pondered over what he could talk of next, footsteps sounded in the kitchen hallway and Adam appeared around the corner.
"Good morning, Mistah Adam, everybody up early this morning!" Hop Sing smiled, thinking that Number One Son appeared more tired than the night before, even after a full night's sleep. "Breakfast nelly ready. Son need coffee first?"
Adam nodded gratefully, a stiffness in his carriage as he moved around the cook to the table. Hop Sing wondered why the polite Adam wasn't greeting their guest so he turned around, a reprimand on his lips. To his uttermost surprise, the only other person in the room was indeed Adam who was easing himself into one of the kitchen chairs.
"Hey, Hop Sing, would you mind closing that door? It's a mite chilly over here," Adam asked, a weary yawn punctuating his request.
Hop Sing shook his head as he went to the door and looked out at the empty yard, trying to work out why Missy Angelina had run away without saying goodbye. Adam asked him what he was wrong.
"Missy Angelina, she here before you come in. Now, she gone. She sit in that same chair that you sit now!"