NOW:

Eddie, to her credit, never asked Adam what he intended to do once he removed his sheriff's badge. They did not speak about his plans or upcoming shift in professions; it was not a topic of conversation shared between the two. Adam was never sure if this was because she was hesitant to broach the subject or merely disinterested in it. With three young children to look after, it was not as though she needed more things to think about or do.

The morning Billy Buckley took office, pinning a badge to his breast which declared him as sheriff of Virginia City, Adam retired the tan hat and vest he had worn throughout his varied career as a lawman. Reclaiming the black hat he had once rarely been seen without, he donned pants, boots, and a shirt of the same color. Though he had worn the unlustrous garb years before, reaching for it day after day until it became ubiquitous with his very presence, there was something foreign and discrepant about it now. It didn't seem befitting anymore. If Eddie or Aunt Lil found his choice of attire odd, they did not address it. Ben seemed to ignore the change when he came upon his oldest son that morning, even though Adam knew it had been noticed, judging by the brief glint of recognition in his father's dark eyes. Even if Pa didn't say anything, he knew what he was thinking.

The last time Adam had dared to dress in such a manner was the beginning of something truly terrible. The day he had returned to Virginia City after being shot, the faintest hint of the bloody accusation of MURDER still visible on the sheriff office wall, he had chosen the clothing out of necessity and spite. He had wanted folks to see him then, to be reminded of who he was and what he stood for. He was Adam Cartwright, the oldest son of Ben's now four. Intelligent, capable, sturdy, and strong, he was a force to be reckoned with if baited and pushed. These were the things he wanted folks to be reminded of when he wore the clothing before, and now he wore it to remind himself. If the startling darkness of his apparel caused him to stand out, it was the opposite of his intention. He was hoping it would allow him to blend in. With the towering gallows he had erected still standing in the center of town and Billy Buckley the sheriff entrusted with properly using it, such a thing didn't seem likely.

The only person who commented on Adam's clothes—or at least did not know enough about the past not to—was Jamie. "Are you mournin' something?" he innocently asked. Standing in between Adam and their father in the Virginia City thoroughfare, he looked his eldest brother up and down.

Ben and Adam frowned in unison. Adam was too taken aback by the question to form a proper reply. If Ben had conceived of one, then he was not eager to give it. "Off with you," he ordered his youngest son. "You'll be late for school if you dawdle any longer."

"Oh, and that'd just be a cryin' shame," Jamie sarcastically huffed.

Ben's expression darkened. "Go on," he ordered, his voice reaching a cavernous intonation. "Get."

Standing stubbornly in place, Jamie looked at Adam, then finding no assistance or guidance forthcoming, he sullenly adhered to the instruction.

"That boy is going to be the end of me," Ben said, watching Jamie disappear down the thoroughfare.

"Oh, come on, Pa," Adam said. "You survived Little Joe's teenage years. Any trouble Jamie gets himself mixed up in is diminutive in comparison to the things he did."

"Or the things you did," Ben mused. "This may surprise you, but I've long regarded Hoss as my easiest child."

"I thought fathers weren't supposed to have favorites."

"Did I mention a favorite? I was merely pointing out varying degrees of difficulty. Hoss was by far the easiest. He was the only one of you who didn't give me any gray hairs."

"If that's the logic governing your opinion, then maybe Jamie is destined to become your favorite now. At your age, there's nothing he could possibly do that would cause your hair to gray." Adam smiled as his father cast him an indignant glance. "Count your blessings, Pa. Thank the good Lord you were given sons. Though they don't seem like they would be, daughters are a hundred times harder for a man to wrangle, and about a thousand times more difficult to understand."

"I don't know. Sons or daughters, I think all children have their moments of extreme difficulty. I'm sure you will come to find that wrangling and understanding your sons and daughters in their youth is easy in comparison to the tribulations their adulthood will bring." Ben regarded Adam thoughtfully. "Enough about Jamie, let's talk about you. Now that we have a new sheriff, care to enlighten me on your plan?"

"My plan," Adam repeated flatly.

"Yes, your plan."

The answer to the question seemed to have implications which extended far beyond the moment. Adam was not sure how to reply. He had not gone against Roy Coffee's wishes and challenged Billy Buckley's bid for sheriff. He had not made plans for his stretch of land or the Running D. He supposed he had assumed that, given the things he had not done and the outfit he had donned for the day, his father would have assumed something as well. Now that it seemed as though his father had not assumed anything at all, Adam felt stuck in a moment that somehow made him feel old and young at the same time.

Ill-fitting and arcadian, it was the clothes which made him feel old. The rush of apprehension tightening his chest and stifling his response made him feel impossibly young as he wondered what his father expected him to say—or what the two of them would or could say if they stopped dancing around all that was uncomfortable to speak aloud. At his age, he shouldn't need to hide in the shadow of his father's accomplishments; he should have been brave and tenacious enough to have achieved his own. He shouldn't need to attach himself to Pa's livelihood in order to sustain his own family; he should have been a success in his own right. He shouldn't be standing here like this, wearing these clothes, awaiting a response from his father that seemed destined never to come.

"Well, son, what's it going to be?" Ben asked, finally growing weary of the silence. "Livestock,

timber, business affairs, or a mixture of all three. When it comes to your future in the Ponderosa's business ventures, do you have a specific preference?"

Adam felt a rush of relief that quickly dissipated as he considered his options. He did not want to impede upon current arrangements. Since returning to Virginia City, he had gleaned that the passing years had allowed the grown Cartwright sons to find their permanent placement in the family operation. Hoss had complete control and supervision over the Ponderosa's timber operation, Joe their livestock enterprise, and Ben had maintained overseeing the business affairs. He couldn't help wondering if there was any space left for him among the family folds; maybe the gap his absence had once left had already been preemptively filled. Eventually, his father would grow old and relinquish his own tasks, and by that time Jamie would be ready and eager to step into that aspect of the business. Years ago, before leaving the Ponderosa behind, it had been implicitly accepted knowledge that Adam would eventually assume his father's responsibilities. When he left, he had been one of three brothers, and he had returned to find himself one of four. Three was the perfect number of sons where the Ponderosa's varying business interests were concerned. Four was one too many.

"Do you have a specific need?" he asked.

"Well, as much as I'd like the company, I suppose you'd be much happier spending the day outside with one of your brothers, at least at first. So that leaves timber or livestock. Which would you prefer?"

"Why don't you leave that choice up to Hoss and Joe. I'll help whoever wants my presence the most." Or will resent it the least, Adam thought.

"I don't think either of them will mind having you."

"Thinking is different than knowing."

"If it'll make you feel better, then I'll talk it over with them tonight."

Planting his hands on his hips, Adam nodded. "What would you like me to do in the meantime?"

Ben smiled as though it was a question he had been secretly hoping his son would pose. "I would like you to embrace the opportunity today has presented you with."

"Opportunity?"

"Take the day off, Adam. The weather is so pleasant today, and the banks of Lake Tahoe are awfully pretty this time of year, don't you think it's high time that Eddie finally saw it? I'm sure the two of you haven't had a moment of peace since the babies were born. It's a beautiful day for a picnic, and I'm sure Lil could be easily convinced to look after Sam and Ellie for a few hours."

"You're forgetting about Noah…"

"I could never forget about your easiest child."

"…Three children all under the age of four are a lot for one person to handle alone."

"Lil won't be alone," Ben assured. "I have no intention of squandering the opportunity the day is presenting me. You go, enjoy some quiet time with your wife. I'll help Lil look after our grandchildren until Peggy returns from school."

If she went in the first place, Adam thought. The teenage girl's absence from the Virginia City schoolhouse had become downright habitual. Despite his frustration, Adam realized it wasn't a huge loss. Peggy was well beyond any of the subjects being taught there. She and Jamie were by far the oldest pupils who attended, and, at their respective ages, neither one of them belonged there. Adam supposed his reasoning for keeping Peggy in school was not unlike his father's justification for continuing to send Jamie. It was a way to keep an eye on them, preserving the illusion of supervision and the delusion of abounding parental influence. It was easy to think that a teenager was much younger than they actually were when you were still sending them to school. It was easy to believe that their problems would eternally remain straightforward and simple, the worriments of youths, when refusing to acknowledge that their current ages rendered them closer to adults than children. Not that Peggy's problems could have ever been described as simple. No, she had been through so much—too much, really—for such a thing to ever ring true. Her problems hadn't been easy when she was a little girl, and they wouldn't be easy now. Things might have been different had Adam not returned to Virginia City, had he not allowed Peggy to follow him here. Then maybe she would have gone to college per the original plan. She would be embracing the brightness of her future then, rather than hiding from it. She could have been spending her time meeting new people rather than waging wars with those who had no intention of allowing their understanding of her to change.

To folks of Virginia City, Peggy was still Frank and Laura Dayton's daughter, Will Cartwright's stepdaughter, and the child whom Adam Cartwright had stolen. Though the grim details of why had eventually come out, the truth did nothing to calm the trading of old, seductive rumors. Sadly, even Adam realized it was simply a more tantalizing story if he had, in fact, taken the young girl without cause, if he were the villain and Laura, Peggy, and Will his victims. The truth about Will and his actions had come forth, of course, and though they were enough to save Adam from any legal repercussions, they hadn't been enough to save him or Peggy from becoming the primary focus of every gossip monger in town. Though Adam tried his best to protect Peggy, he couldn't prevent her from the things folks said or the pain and grief which arose from them. The scandalous chatter hurt her, this Adam knew because it hurt him, too. With all the ways he had already failed her, he longed to find the right way to shield her from the carelessness of others. He longed to find the right words to finally convince her to put some space between herself and the territory.

If he had had his way, then Peggy never would have come back to this town. She wouldn't have had to share her deepest, darkest secrets with a collection of folks who had no interest in understanding or honoring her pain. She would have been attending college in the Midwest for over a year now, her understanding of herself and the world around her growing rather than shrinking. While it was a difficult thing to picture now, Peggy had once been excited by the notion of attending college—a rare opportunity for a young woman. Devoting herself completely to her studies in San Francisco, she had worked hard to become intelligent and well-rounded enough to be considered for acceptance, and she had been immensely proud the day the news finally came. She had wanted it so badly back then, and now she did not seem to want anything at all. With each passing day, Adam grew a little more fearful that the once desired objective was being pushed further and further to the wayside in favor of more improvident and detrimental pursuits.

"What do you think?" Ben asked, prompting his son to return his attention to the topic at hand.

Adam's lips curled into a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I think it sounds like you've already planned my day for me."

It wasn't until he and Pa approached the house on Kay street that Adam realized how true the statement was. Picnic basket in hand, Eddie was awaiting his arrival on the porch. As Ben entered the house, she looked between the basket and her husband, her face set in an indecipherable mask.

"Lunch is courtesy of Hop Sing and what I've been told was a particularly robust chicken," she said. "It seems your father is quite the cupid."

Adam could not help thinking that there was a time when the same assessment had been made about her mother.

Their journey to Lake Tahoe was completed on the backs of horses keeping near-tandem stride. They spread a blanket upon a sandy bank in front of the clear, calm waters and ate a quiet lunch beneath the afternoon warmth. Sitting with his legs bent in front of his chest, Adam propped his forearms on his knees and clenched his hands loosely together. His father had been right: it was the perfect day to spend at the lake. Laying on the blanket next to him, Eddie was decidedly content. Hands resting upon her stomach, she closed her eyes and basked in the sun. The peaceful beauty of their surroundings was endlessly assuaging, rendering even the vilest mood invalid. Of course, his father had known that, Adam thought with a small smile; it was why he had suggested the outing. On a day which promised to awaken so much uncertainty, Ben Cartwright was doing what he could to comfort his oldest son in the only way in which he knew would be accepted.

"I want you to tell me something," Eddie said softly, her eyes remaining closed.

"Alright."

"Be honest," she warned, her lips curling into a slight smile. "In your younger days, how many young ladies did you take to this place when you wanted them to fall in love with you?"

Staring at the crystal waters, Adam noted the euphemism and laughed. "There might have been a few."

"I think there were probably more than a few."

Glancing at her, he found she was looking at him, patiently awaiting confirmation of what they both already knew. "You think right," he admitted softly.

"Did you ever find yourself chased with a shotgun when the girl's daddy found out?"

"No. My father casts a fairly large shadow in these parts. His successes and prominence often lent to the idea that having a daughter who was worthy of the attention of one of the Cartwright sons was a good thing. It still does, I suppose."

"It means something to be a Cartwright around here."

"It does. Of course, my last name isn't the only thing that prevented me from running into difficulties. I never got chased because I never got caught. I was wise enough to conduct my conquests discreetly. Joe, on the other hand, was not; he has more than enough experience with angry fathers with shotguns to more than make up for the rest of us. I swear, there were moments when even Pa didn't think his baby son was going to walk away from unscathed, or at the very least unmarried."

"And Hoss?"

"If my dalliances are to be considered discrete then Hoss's are downright confidential."

"What about Jamie?"

"What about Jamie?"

"Do you think he's bringing any eligible young ladies here?"

"I don't know," Adam said. "I've never really thought about it. I've always had too many other things to think about. I guess, I figured he did too."

"Well, he's seventeen. He's around that age."

"Seventeen," Adam repeated, his eyebrows raising as he tilted his head.

It was as strange to say aloud as it was to hear; he always thought of the boy as younger than that. Their father's instance for Jamie to continue his education at Virginia City's schoolhouse for at least another year was something that did not help to inform others of his age, nor did the juvenile's often caustic attitude. Jamie was not the most mature of teens. There were still many ways in which he needed to mature, so many things that he needed to make peace with before he could truly settle into the beginnings of the man he would eventually become. His father's violent death was one of those things; his place in his new family was another. Adam knew that in some ways his presence in Jamie's life had helped the boy immensely and in others it had hurt a little too much. While they had both been comforted by their quick kinship, their sparse familiarity with each other served as a painful reminder as well. Jamie had once been someone else's son, and Adam had once been someone else completely.

"What about Peggy?" Eddie asked.

"What about Peggy?"

"She's around that age, too."

Adam grimaced. "No, she's not."

Sitting up, Eddie silently evaluated him, her blue eyes bright but guarded. "Well, Daddy," she eventually said, "you better get your shotgun ready. I know you know about Todd Wyatt, so I won't do you a disservice and pretend you don't."

Adam was certain he knew of Todd Wyatt, a man who was occasionally known to be employed as a Ponderosa hand. He was certain he did not know anything about him, at least not where Peggy was concerned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Todd Wyatt, the young man who has taken an interest in Peggy and has been monopolizing her free time."

"He has?" Adam asked flatly, dumbfounded.

"He has," Eddie affirmed. "But that's really beside the point I'm trying to make. He's older than she is, and with age comes a specific kind of experience and expectation. A young man's thoughts and energies have a way of shifting to surreptitious excursions with their sweetheart, afternoons spent on the banks of calm waters and long rides beneath the moonlight."

Adam looked at the lake, then at Eddie, and then at the blanket beneath them. Even with as benign as their afternoon had been, he couldn't picture Peggy replicating such outings. He didn't want her spending time with a man like Todd Wyatt. She was too young, and Wyatt was too old. Peggy was a teenager. Wyatt was in his twenties; he shouldn't be pursuing a girl of her age. Adam felt slightly nauseated, the notion that Peggy could be pursued by anyone was impossible to accept and downright horrifying. She simply could not be sneaking around with a grown man; she was too young yet for such a thing to be true. Why it seemed like just yesterday she was a gap-toothed tomboy, trapsing around the territory on Traveler's back, having coffee-milk tea parties, playing dolls with Sally Jenkins. But all that had been a lifetime ago, and there was no way to properly account for all the things that had changed since then. Why did this have to be yet another one?

"I'm worried," Eddie said. "I do believe it is time we heed the situation. If things continue to progress between them in private, then I'm concerned that it will only be a matter of time before that girl ends up in the kind of trouble neither one of us is going to be able to fix. Which, of course, is assuming we still have time to fix it now."

"Are you absolutely certain you have an accurate account of the situation?" Adam tried, still holding on to that last glimmer of foolish hope. "Are you sure they're not just casual acquaintances, or that they aren't actually anything at all? You know how folks like to talk, especially around here."

Eddie was skeptical. "You're joking, right?" she asked. "You really mean to tell me that you think Wyatt and Peggy are no more than casual acquaintances? That their relationship only exists in stories the townsfolk of Virginia City imagine to entertain themselves?"

Adam wasn't certain what he thought. He had not overheard any whispers about Wyatt and Peggy from the townsfolk. Up until this moment, he had not heard anything that would lead him to think about the pair at all. He had heard other things, of course. There wasn't a day that passed when Peggy's name—or his own—wasn't uttered in conjunction with the slanderous details of their enduring denigratory tales. But those stories had everything to do with past events and nothing to do with things taking place right now.

"I know you're aware of Peggy's habitual truancy at the schoolhouse," Eddie said. "I can't believe you would remain unaware of what she's doing during that time, or who she is spending it with." When he didn't reply her eyes widened with shock. "You really didn't know," she said, her voice caring a hint of awe. "I don't believe it."

"I'm the one who doesn't believe it. Peggy isn't the kind to sneak around. It isn't in her nature to lie. If anything, she tends to be a little too blunt when it comes to the truth. If she was really seeing Wyatt, if she truly cared for him, then she would tell the whole world. She wouldn't be afraid of what anyone had to say about it. She would be prepared and willing to engage herself in a fight." Adam shook his head. "There has to be some kind of misunderstanding, someone is clearlyconfused."

"Oh, someone is confused all right. Adam, that someone is you. Peggy isn't a little girl anymore. She's sixteen years old, which is not an unacceptable age for an eligible young woman…"

"She is not an eligible young woman."

"…to be seriously courted by an interested young man."

"She isn't ready for this kind of thing."

"What you mean to say is that you're not ready for this kind of thing. In your mind, Peggy is still a child, an itty-bitty, little girl. But she's not a little girl anymore; she's grown up, become a slightly hoiden, nonetheless, beautiful young woman who is doing what most young women are expected to do."

"I never expected it."

"No, I suppose fathers never really do."

"And mothers do?"

"This isn't easy for me either. You must understand, it brings me no joy to broach this topic, to change your understanding of Peggy in such an irrevocable way. Even so, I'm not mentioning this because I'm hoping you'll put a stop to things. I just believe it's time that the truth about Wyatt and Peggy's feelings for each other are shared openly, so that as her father, you can make your expectation of Wyatt's conduct twoard our daughter clear."

"And what exactly would those be?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. If Wyatt wants to see Peggy, then he does not do so secretly or unsupervised. As I said, Peggy's cutting school so that they can spend their mornings together. She sneaks out at night to ride with him beneath the moonlight, too. If such things are allowed to continue, I'm afraid she'll end up just like Laura, the mother of a child before her eighteenth birthday and bound to a man she had no choice but to marry."

"She's smarter than that."

"I know, but as you know, sometimes young women get…caught up in the moment, and determined young men can be very convincing when they want to be. Love has a way of encouraging all to lose track of their senses."

"Who said anything about love?"

"Peggy," Eddie said. "I overheard her and Sally Jenkins talking, and that girl said she's in love. Now, whether she's in love with Wyatt himself, or the idea of having a beau remains to be seen."

Adam was not certain if he was going to become violently ill or just downright violent. Peggy in love? No, there was just no possible way such a thing could be true. He would do anything to ensure it wasn't true. "Doesn't matter," he said gruffly. "Pretty soon Peggy will be headed to the Midwest for college. She will be so busy with her studies that Wyatt will become nothing more than a distant memory."

"That's your answer for everything, isn't it? Send people away and then you don't have to deal with difficult situations or the feelings that are born from them; you don't have to talk honestly about anything ever or at all."

"I'm honest," Adam said, annoyed.

"Sure, you are. Just not with those who would most benefit from hearing the truth." Expelling a sigh, she focused on the tranquil lake waters and was quiet for a time. "Judging by this outing and the person who suggested it, I gather you have not shared with your father what has been decided. I haven't told my mother either," she admitted, "but I think…I think she knows."

"She's perceptive."

"Even so, we should tell her sooner rather than later. The decision affects her, too. And you need to tell your father and brothers."

"I will."

"When?"

"When the correct time presents itself."

"There's never going to be a correct time, Adam, not when sharing such things."

"Maybe not," Adam agreed. "But some are much better than others."

"And what about Peggy? When are we going to sit that girl down and tell her the truth?"

"Soon, I suppose."

Shaking her head, Eddie was slightly exasperated now. "What do you expect to come from all of this? What do you expect will become of Peggy if, after we speak with her, she decides to abandon what little faith she has left in you or me and places all her trust in Todd Wyatt instead?"

"I thought you said you weren't interested in breaking them up."

"No, but I am worried. We hardly know the boy—man," she amended. "And like you said, Peggy is quite young. I don't mind the idea of her courting, it's just that I would like to be able to support and council her while she does. I do not think it prudent for either of us to stand in opposition of such a thing. After all, Wyatt is as much of a problem as he is a solution. Given the things that became known about your cousin and what he did, I suppose a part of us should be relieved that an upstanding young man still finds Peggy worthy of his time and attention."

"Relief is not an easy sentiment to come by these days."

"I know, but I suppose seeing Peggy married wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"It's far from the best thing either."

"Is there a best thing anymore?"

"I'd like to think so."

"Thinking is much different than knowing."

Looking at her, Adam was taken aback by her statement, the very same words he had said to his father that morning. "It is."

"Well, I don't think I believe in best things anymore. One just decides upon one thing or another, to travel one path or take one which leads them in the opposite direction. Neither are bad, they just promise different outcomes."

"Outcomes can be bad," Adam asserted.

"They can be subjective, too. Opinions of good or bad depend on the person who is making the decision and what it is actually regarding. We both want what's best for Peggy, but if you talked to her, she wouldn't see it that way. We can want all manner of things for her, but that doesn't mean that she will want those things for herself."

"She is too young to know what she wants. She's too young to even begin to conceive of the options she has."

"What options? If Peggy had been born a boy, then I would agree with you. As a girl, she really only has two: remain single and under her father's supervision or become a wife."

"She's much too young for the latter, Eddie."

"I know this is a frightening prospect. Peggy is such an alarming mixture of a woman and a child; she's old enough to make decisions for her future and too young to understand their lasting repercussions. That girl is such a conundrum, so full of anger and apathy, wisdom and youth. She knows too much and too little at the same time. Her pain governs her actions. The only thing she seems willing to concern herself with is the moment; thoughts of the future or the past are beyond her. She can't understand the things she's not willing to see." She looked at Adam dolefully, her blue eyes gleaming knowingly. "Peggy isn't going to pursue her education at college; even though you don't want to see that, I know it's something you understand. Too much has happened now for her to be at peace doing such a thing."

"And you think a man like Todd Wyatt is going to bring her peace?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why are you advocating for his interests?"

"I'm not. I'm advocating for our daughter's. I already asked you this once to no avail so I'm going to ask you again. Adam, what do you expect will become of Peggy once we tell her the truth? What will you do if she pulls herself further away from our family? How will you handle things if she chooses to love Todd Wyatt and hate you?"

Shaking his head, Adam didn't want to think about either prospect. He looked at his rolled-up shirt sleeves, his dark pants, and the black hat he had taken off and sat next to him on the ground. That morning Jamie had looked at his apparel and asked him if he was mourning something. He hadn't been at the time, but the outfit had proved befitting, because now he most certainly was.

If Peggy wanted to court Todd Wyatt, then he wouldn't stop her from doing so. If she really truly loved the young man, Adam would not prevent her from marrying him. Though it wasn't what he wanted for her, he was wise enough to know he could not oppose the things she wanted for herself. Despite his own desires and reservations, he would always ensure his future words and actions were representative of a father—a good one at that.

"I'll stand by that girl for the rest of my life," Adam said. "Peggy will have my support no matter what she does, and my love regardless of how she feels about me."

Eddie nodded, satisfied with the response. Then looking at the waterfront, her appeasement seemed to wane. "If only we all could be that fortunate," she whispered, the soft, sad statement quickly becoming lost among a brief, fleeting breeze.

TBC