Chapter Seven
Wishing she could spend the night at Fionn's, Josie rode home around four o'clock. Hoss and Joe had gone fishing and caught more trout than any of the Cartwrights had imagined the stream behind the house could hold, so they were having a big fish fry for supper. The family was already gathering at Ben's by the time Josie arrived home.
"There she is!" Hoss said, grabbing Josie around the waist and spinning her in a circle as soon as she slid from Scout's saddle. Josie laughed.
"You're in quite the mood!" she said as Hoss set her gently back on the ground.
"Just miss you is all," the big man replied with a shrug. "Don't get to see you every day anymore."
"I miss you, too, big fella." She inhaled deeply. "Boy, oh boy, does that fish ever smell good. Hop Sing must have been working all day."
"He was. And he's got the terrible mood now to prove it."
Josie giggled. "Where's Patience?" she asked, glancing around the yard.
"Oh, she's inside talking to Pa. Between you and me, I think she's feelin' poorly. But she keeps insistin' she's fine. Maybe you could sneak a look at her?"
Josie smiled at the concern in her cousin's bright blue eyes. "I'll see what I can do," she promised. She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before handing him Scout's reins and zipping inside before he could protest about putting her horse away.
Patience did indeed look rather pale when Josie bounced into the great room and greeted her and Ben. But she had a smile on her face and sipped her tea while she and Ben chatted about how glad they were that the weather was finally starting to warm up a bit. Josie plopped onto the settee next to Patience, and Ben slipped away while the young ladies struck up a conversation about the Virginia City Library. Between the money Josie had earned helping to capture the bank robbers outside Sacramento in September and the proceeds from the fall festival, the space off Will Cass's General Store was nearly bursting with books. Sally Cass was reporting at least a dozen library patrons per day.
"Oh, and my father said the new school bell should arrive soon, too!" Patience said, her eyes shining. "Won't that be wonderful?"
Josie agreed it would be. Then, realizing they were alone in the room, she said, "Are you feeling all right, Patience? You're awfully pale."
Patience waved a dismissive hand. "It's just the winter, Josie. A girl can't get any color in her cheeks when it's cold. I'll be fine now that the weather's warming up." Josie was about to push harder, but Patience cut her off. "How was your trip to Genoa with Little Joe? I heard you had a little excitement."
Josie groaned. It seemed all of Nevada had heard of her and Joe's trip to Genoa. "Let's just say I had to buy a new hat when I got home."
Patience laughed and had just asked for all the details when Adam and Little Joe moseyed down the stairs.
"I'll tell you later," Josie whispered. "It's a pretty sore subject with Joe, and, well, I owe Adam an awful lot of money."
Patience nodded and rose to greet her brothers-in-law.
"How's your house coming along?" she asked Adam.
"Pretty good!" he replied with a bright smile. "Right on schedule. Should have the roof on in a week or so, and then I'll take a little break to get that washroom built for Fionn."
"He must be excited about that."
"He is!" Josie called out. "Right now that big tub is just sitting in the middle of his living room. I caught him playing at being a ship's captain in it this morning when I went over there."
Ben and Hoss came into the room just in time to hear Josie's last comment and joined in the ensuing laughter. They were interrupted by a sweaty, grease-soaked Hop Sing who announced that dinner was ready.
"Goodness, Hop Sing! Are you all right?!" Josie asked.
"Hop Sing do nothing all day but fry fish. Now Hop Sing stink!" He snorted disdainfully and shuffled back into the kitchen. Not wanting to be on the receiving end of Hop Sing's wrath, the Cartwrights all wisely held back a fresh round of laughter.
As everyone sat at their places around the table, Hop Sing brought in the first heaping platter of fried trout. Josie dropped her head back and took a long, luxurious breath.
"Isn't that just the best scent in the world?" she asked no one in particular. Everyone agreed it was, though Patience's agreement was less than convincing.
"Yes, it's lovely. Excuse me, please!" Patience leapt from her seat and tore off across the living room and up the stairs, one hand clapped over her mouth and nose. Hoss jumped up from his seat, too, and was about to follow his wife, when Josie laid a hand on his arm.
"I'll check on her, Hoss. You enjoy your fish. You and Joe worked hard catching them."
"Not as hard as Hop Sing work frying them!" an indignant voice called out from the kitchen.
Josie giggled and scampered off after her friend. But not before she caught her uncle crossing his fingers under the table.
"Patience?" Josie knocked on the washroom door. The unmistakable sound of retching drifted out from under the door. "Patience, can I come in?" She assumed the "Unnnngggghhh" from the other side of the door meant "yes," so she pushed her way in.
Patience was bent over the commode, a wave of vomiting having just passed. She sank into a sitting position on the floor and looked up at Josie with dull eyes. Strands of auburn hair had come loose from her chignon and lay plastered to her pale face with sweat. She gave Josie a wan smile. Josie snatched a glass from the counter, pumped some water into it, and knelt next to her friend. Patience accepted the water with a grateful smile and took a small sip.
"So how late are you?" Josie asked.
A hint of color rose in Patience's waxy cheeks. "Three weeks," she whispered without looking at Josie.
"Three weeks? Why didn't you come see me?"
"Didn't want to get Hoss's hopes up in case it was just a little dyspepsia. Besides, I thought women got sick in the morning. I've felt sick all the time the past several days."
"The morning is when it's usually the worst, but not always," Josie explained. "I had a patient once who was fine except between the hours of two and four p.m."
Patience dropped her head between her knees. "Everything smells so terrible, Josie. Hoss put on some aftershave this morning, and it nearly killed me. Then that fish just now. I thought I could suffer through it, but when Hop Sing set it on the table right in front of me…" She gave a little "urp!" and hung her head over the toilet once more. Josie held her hair back while she retched again.
"It's all right," Josie said, rubbing Patience's back. "This will pass. You won't be sick the whole time. In fact, by about four months, most women start feeling pretty good for a while."
Patience nodded as her vomiting slowed, and she sat back down on the floor. Josie handed her the water glass again. Patience rested her head on Josie's shoulder while she sipped her water.
"Josie? Do you really think I am?" Her voice was small but hopeful.
Josie smiled. "I'd say so. I could do a quick exam if you'd like, but given your symptoms…"
"I'm gonna be a mama."
"You sure are." Tears rose in Josie's eyes as she kissed Patience's sweaty forehead. "So thank you in advance for the new cousin."
Patience laughed weakly and picked her head up from Josie's shoulder. "Do we need to go tell everyone?"
Josie thought about this. "How about I just tell them you ate something funny this morning? Give you a chance to tell Hoss tonight in private. Then the two of you could break the news to the family together when you're ready."
"That sounds nice."
"Good. Now, if you're done vomiting, why don't you go lie down in Hoss's old room? You can open the window to keep the fish smell out."
Patience smiled and let Josie help her to her feet. Then she pulled her into a tight hug. "Thank you, Josie. I can hardly believe this!"
Josie finally let down her physician's demeanor and got caught up in the excitement. "I know! Me too! Congratulations, Patience." The young ladies smiled through happy tears at one another before Josie shooed her friend off to bed.
It took all Josie's fortitude to wipe the goofy grin off her face before she headed back downstairs to her family. Hoss jumped to his feet as soon as she appeared, and Adam and Joe had to grab hold of the table to keep it from jumping with him.
"Josie? She all right? She sick?" His plate of fish and potatoes sat untouched.
"She's quite all right, Hoss," Josie assured him. "A little under the weather, but nothing that won't resolve itself. She's resting in your old room while we eat."
"Maybe I should go up there."
"She's really ok, I promise. Just sit down and enjoy your fish."
"If you say so," Hoss muttered, plopping back down in his seat.
"What's wrong with her, Josie?" Little Joe asked as Josie took her place at the table.
"Oh, something she ate must have disagreed with her. She'll be fine."
"Something she ate, huh?" Ben asked with a raised eyebrow. Next to him, the corners of Adam's mouth twitched.
"Sure," Josie replied. Ben's eyebrow rose a little higher, and Josie smiled at him. Tears rose in her uncle's eyes, but he quickly bit them back.
"Well, I certainly hope she feels better soon," he said.
"I'm sure she will."
Ignoring Hoss's and Joe's confused looks, Ben, Josie, and Adam grinned at each other and dug into their fish.
"Oh, Fionn, you should have seen the look on Pa's face when Hoss busted in and told him he was going to be a grandfather!" Adam grinned at Fionn over the board they were lifting into position on the side of Fionn's house. Over Fionn's protests, Adam had taken a week's break from building his own home to construct the washroom on the side of Fionn's.
"Must have been priceless," Fionn said, grinning back. He held the board in place while Adam nailed it to the house.
They had only a few planks of siding to go before the washroom was finished. Adam was pleased with how the little room had turned out. Molly and Fionn now had a flush toilet, sink, and a bathtub with hot running water. Of course, Molly would enjoy it for only a couple more months before she and Adam wed, but Adam liked the idea of Fionn having the washroom all the same. Though this had less to do with Fionn and more to do with Josie's potential future comfort.
"It was," Adam replied. "Pa and I had figured it out when Patience ran off that night of our fish fry, but it was great to hear Hoss's official announcement all the same."
Fionn turned away and grabbed another siding board. "Have a lot of experience with an expectin' woman's early symptoms, do ya?"
Adam's right eyebrow shot up. Was Fionn baiting him? No, as Fionn turned around, there was that mischievous glimmer in his eye. Adam snickered. Fionn must be the world's worst poker player.
"I've got two younger brothers, don't forget," he said with another chuckle. "I was twelve by the time Little Joe came around. I remember Marie's early days carrying him all too well."
Poor Marie had vomited continually during her entire first trimester. Ben hadn't had any idea what to do; neither Elizabeth nor Inger had been so sick. Even the then-very-young Dr. Martin had run out of ideas for quelling the nausea. All they could do was try to keep her hydrated and coax her to eat a little something now and again. It was only when Ben met a young Chinese immigrant in Eagle Station – now Carson City – that they found her some relief. The young man gave Ben a sachet of ground-up cardamom seed and ginger with instructions for making a tea. A year later when Ben and Marie realized just how much work Little Joe was going to be, Ben sought out the Chinaman and offered him a job on the Ponderosa. Hop Sing had been a part of the family ever since.
"Aye, supposin' you would," Fionn said. "Don't think about those things when you're the youngest. I bet Hoss's announcement caught Joe by surprise."
"It did. Boy fell backward out of his chair."
Fionn laughed. "When you and Molly make your first announcement, make sure I'm already sittin' on the floor, all right?"
"I'll do that." Adam slapped Fionn's shoulder and then helped him lift the siding board into place.
"Still can't believe she'll be gone in two months," Fionn said as they aligned the board. The jocularity was gone from his voice. "Goin' to be awfully quiet around here without her."
Adam stole glances at the younger man's face as he hammered the board into place. "It was pretty hard watching Hoss leave," he admitted. "He and I have seen each other through every tragedy of our lives. Even when his mother was killed when he was only a few weeks old, something about his presence pulled me – and Pa – through. Then when Marie died… I don't know what I would have done without him."
"Aye," Fionn said, not looking up at Adam. "That's me and Molly as well. But at least you still had Little Joe at home."
"Yeah, he's real comforting every time I have to bail him out of jail."
Fionn laughed so hard he let go of his end of the board, and it swung from the nails Adam had hammered into the other side. Adam smiled to see Fionn's lightheartedness return. He grabbed the free end of the board and swung it back into place before gesturing to Fionn to take the hammer and nails.
"Besides," Adam continued as Fionn fastened the board to the house, "are you really planning to live here alone for long?"
Fionn paused with the hammer mid-swing and raised an eyebrow at Adam. "Can't afford a hired hand," he said coolly.
"That wasn't what I meant."
Fionn finished hammering the board in place and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of one hand. "Adam, I'll be straightforward with you. I love Josie more than anythin', but I've only got one year on this farm under me belt. It was a good year, but it was only one year. Who's to say it won't turn against me this year? I can't ask Josie to give up the comfort of the Ponderosa for such a gamble."
"Josie doesn't care about luxury, Fionn. Believe me. She's always been just as happy sleeping out on the range as she has been in the nicest hotel in Philadelphia." He smiled as the memory of Josie shooting George Nelson through the shoulder in the mountains outside Sacramento danced through his mind. "And she's pretty tough, to boot."
"Aye. But I still need at least one more good year with this place before I'd feel comfortable bringin' her here."
"It's your decision," Adam said. "But I do appreciate your caution. She's my little sister after all."
Fionn grinned at him as Adam positioned the final siding board and allowed him to hammer in this last board. The two men stepped back to admire their work.
"Needs a good coat of paint, but I'd say that's a job well done, Cartwright," Fionn said. "This is just grand. I can't thank you enough."
Adam waved a hand. "You earned it," he reminded him. "All those chores you did over the winter. You more than earned it. You want to earn some more money next winter, you just let me know."
Fionn's face lit up. "I'll certainly do that! Maybe make enough to go jewelry-shopping meself."
Adam chuckled. "Can't promise I'd be able to pay you that much," he said.
"Wouldn't need so very much. Josie doesn't care about luxury, does she?" He winked at Adam, who laughed again.
"Touché."
"Besides, I've got me sheep now. Their wool should fetch a good price, especially if Molly spins it for me."
Adam's brain prickled. "Is that why you bought the sheep, Fionn? To earn money for a ring for Josie?"
Fionn crouched down and sifted through the grass for any nails they may have dropped. He shrugged and said nothing.
Adam rested a hand on Fionn's shoulder. "You know something, Fionn? I didn't like you when I first met you. I thought you were arrogant and reckless." He paused. "I was right about the arrogance." He chuckled as Fionn smirked up at him. "But I was dead wrong about the recklessness. You're one of the most responsible people I've ever met. You're a good man, Fionn. And I'm glad you and Josie found each other. I know that when the time comes, you'll take good care of her."
Fionn rose and met Adam's gaze. "Thanks, Adam. You just take good care of my sister, you hear?"
Adam grinned. "That I will. Now how about we get this mess cleaned up before Molly gets home and kills us both?" He gestured to the boards and tools scattered across the yard.
Fionn slapped Adam's shoulder, and the two men set about clearing up their debris.
When Molly got home late that afternoon, she squealed as Fionn and Adam showed off the new washroom. She flung her arms around each of their necks in turn.
"Oh, it's just marvelous!" she said. "If only Da could see what style we're livin' in now!"
Fionn grinned. "Barely had any potatoes back in dear Eire, and look at us now!" he said in a deep voice Adam assumed was meant to mimic the late Patrick O'Connell.
Molly giggled and kissed her brother's cheek. "Not bad at all for a couple of bog-trotters."
Adam frowned. "Don't call yourself names like that Molly," he said. "You're so much more than that, and you know it."
"You've upset Billy Yank," Fionn stage-whispered to Molly so Adam could overhear. Molly giggled and stepped over to Adam, planting a kiss on his cheek, too.
"It's all in good fun, me love. If we Irish didn't laugh at ourselves, we'd spend all our time cryin'. Now, what did you say you wanted to show me out in the barn?"
Adam grinned at Fionn over Molly's head. He'd already shown his future brother-in-law the red mare he'd bought for Molly, and Fionn had expressed no small amount of delight over the horse. Adam had wanted to give the mare to Molly as soon as he'd gotten back from Genoa, but he'd discovered no one had ever trained the animal to ground-tie, so he'd spent the past couple weeks working with the horse. He took Molly's hand and led her out to the barn.
Adam had put the mare in a stall in the back of the barn, so when they stepped inside, he had Molly close her eyes as he led her to the far end. When they were right in front of the stall, he told her to open her eyes.
Molly gasped when she found herself face-to-face with this unexpected gift. "Adam! Is she for me?" she squeaked.
"Happy late engagement," Adam replied with a grin. "Or early wedding. Whichever you prefer."
Molly flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, pressing her body tightly against his. Adam was just wondering if there was a clean stack of hay nearby when Molly pulled away and turned to her new horse.
"She's beautiful," she said, her eyes raking over the mare's copper-colored body with its two little patches of white – one near her left shoulder and one circling the top of her left hoof. "Same color as that copper washtub in the new room."
Adam chuckled. "I was thinking a new penny, but sure, same color as the washtub." He stepped forward and patted the mare's neck. "She's an Appaloosa like Scout, but she never got all the speckling. Doesn't matter, though. She's a magnificent little horse. Josie rode her home from Genoa and said she runs like the wind."
"Genoa?" Molly turned to Adam with laughter dancing across her face. "Did you buy her when you went to bail Josie out of jail?"
"Actually, this horse is the reason Josie and Little Joe went to Genoa in the first place. I'd picked her out a few weeks earlier and made a deal with the seller. Those two were just supposed to pick her up for me. As we all know, they got a little sidetracked."
Molly laughed. News of the youngest Cartwrights' misadventures had spread like wildfire through Virginia City, and the townspeople were not going to let them live it down anytime soon. Even Sheriff Coffee had joined in. One morning about a week earlier, as Josie and Little Joe rode into town, the lawman had shouted a warning to everyone on Main Street to guard their privies.
"Josie's still frettin' about payin' you back, you know," Molly said.
"Yeah, I know." Adam scratched the back of his head. "I'm not going to make her repay me, but I haven't told her that yet. A little fretting now might make her think twice about going along with whatever scheme Little Joe concocts next."
Molly giggled and turned back to her horse. "What's her name?"
"Hasn't got one," Adam replied. "You'll have to think of something."
"Runs like the wind, does she?"
"That she does. Even with me riding her. Strong little thing."
"We'll have to call her 'Breezy,' then."
The horse nickered and nudged Molly with her nose.
"I think she likes it," Adam said with a grin.
"I think so, too. That was nice of you to let Josie ride her home, especially after causing so much trouble."
"Well, I felt bad that I'd commandeered Scout. But when a mare's in season, a mare's in season. Didn't want to miss an opportunity."
"Have any luck with that, then?"
"Too early to tell," Adam said. "Hope so. She and Ruckus will produce a fine foal." He stepped behind Molly and slipped his arms around her waist. "How about us?" he asked, nuzzling his face into her neck. "Think we've had any luck?"
Molly smiled as she reached behind her and caressed his cheek. "I'm afraid not," she answered. "Things arrived yesterday just when I expected them to."
"Pity," Adam said, smiling into Molly's neck. "We'll have to keep trying."
"Aye, that we will. But another time. We don't get back in the house soon, Fionn's goin' to get awfully suspicious."
Adam kissed her neck one last time, took her hand, and led her back to the house.
At dinner on the Ponderosa that night, everyone agreed that Molly had made a good choice with her mare's name.
"She was glad I let you ride her home from Genoa, Josie," Adam said, nudging his cousin's elbow. "She's about as experienced a rider as you were when you arrived, and I think it was comforting to her to know that Breezy met with your approval."
"That's nice." Josie didn't look up. She just twirled her spoon around in her mashed potatoes.
Adam wrinkled his brow. "You ok, kid?" His first thought was that she and Fionn had had an argument, but his conversation with Fionn that afternoon certainly didn't support that theory. His heart sank as he realized the more likely reason for Josie to be melancholy. He laid a hand on her arm and looked up at Ben, who he now noticed looked grim, too. Even Little Joe wore a tight expression. "Did we get bad news?" he asked.
Ben's mouth was full, so Joe answered for him.
"Sort of," he said. "Nothing about Uncle Jacob specifically, but it looks like the Union Army's gearing up for a big battle, somewhere in Virginia."
This was hardly surprising. The warfront had been pretty quiet since Gettysburg last summer as both sides regrouped and licked their wounds. But they had to get back to it sometime, and Dr. Jacob Cartwright was sure to be in the thick of it.
Ben swallowed the mouthful he'd been chewing and chimed in.
"You remember President Lincoln put General Grant in charge of all the Union armies last month?" he asked. Adam nodded. "Well, Grant doesn't seem content to direct his generals from Washington. He's gone to the field with General Meade and the main army. They're pushing into Virginia pretty hard. Everyone expects another major battle within the next week or so."
Adam turned back to Josie. "You know what he's trying to do, don't you, Josie? He's trying to take Richmond. Grant takes Richmond, and this whole war is over."
"I don't think he's just trying to take Richmond," Ben said, leaning back in his chair. "They've tried taking Richmond before with no luck. I think he's trying to destroy Robert E. Lee's army."
"Either way, it ends the war."
"Yes, but setting out to take a city and setting out to destroy an army are two different animals." Ben rubbed his temples. "People will fight to save a city only up to a point. When it seems like hope is lost, they'll give up. But they'll fight to the death to save their own lives. It's the most brutal kind of fighting."
With a clatter of dishes, Josie mumbled a quick "Excuse me," and darted from the table and up the stairs.
Adam turned to his father with huge eyes. "Geez, Pa, did you have to say all that right in front of her? She's worried enough as it is!"
Ben blinked a few times like he was just waking up from a deep sleep. "You're right," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't say anything she didn't already know, but still…" He rubbed his temples again. Adam had never seen him look so tired, so worn, so… defeated. He glanced across the table at his youngest brother and suddenly understood what this war had been doing not only to Josie, but also to Ben. He stood up and laid a hand on Ben's shoulder.
"It's all right, Pa," he said gently. "This war has everyone's thinking all turned around. Uncle Jacob will be ok, though. He's made it this far. Takes more than an old Confederate general to bring down a Cartwright."
Ben gave Adam a thin smile as he reached up and patted his son's hand. "You're right, son." He shook his head. "I should probably go upstairs and see to Josie."
"I'll go. Stay and finish your supper."
"No, I'll go. I need to apologize." Ben rose and lumbered up the stairs, leaving Adam and Joe staring at one another across the table. Joe's eyes were wide, and his nostrils flared like they did when he was angry. But it wasn't anger. It was fear, and seeing it made Adam's chest ache. He was trying to think of something comforting to say, but Little Joe beat him to the punch.
"I don't know if you believe all that stuff you just said, but Uncle Jacob really will be all right, Adam," Little Joe said. "He will be. And we'll get him and Aunt Hannah to come out to the Ponderosa for a good, long visit. It'll be just like that summer after you graduated college. You'll see." He flashed a smile.
An invisible belt tightened around Adam's chest, squeezing the breath from his lungs. For twenty-one years, he'd been the one comforting Joe – checking under his bed for monsters, rocking the little boy back to sleep when he woke from a nightmare anyway, deftly removing splinters from tiny fingers before Ben could come after him with a needle – and now Joe was turning the tables. Somewhere along the way, his baby brother had grown up. Adam had just never realized how much until now. He smiled back.
"Thanks, little buddy." He held Joe's gaze for a few seconds. "You know I'd bail you out of jail every day, right?"
"But, Adam, you didn't bail me out of jail. Pa did." Joe's eyes twinkled.
Adam chuckled. "That's beside the point."
"Yeah, I know. I'd bail you out, too, Big Brother." He paused. "Except I don't think you'd ever be stupid enough to get caught."
"Probably not."
Adam marveled that even in the shadow of a war in which brothers were fighting against their brothers, other brothers could still share a laugh over dinner. The world made no sense sometimes, but at least for tonight, it didn't matter. He reached over and mussed Joe's curls, at the same time, swiping the last dinner roll from his brother's plate. For once, Little Joe didn't protest.