He was running. He was running so fast that his feet could barely keep up with him and he was stumbling, putting out a hand to steady himself and clawing at the grass to get himself upright and running forward once again. His breath came in harsh, unrelentingly urgent gasps that ripped through his lungs and burned his throat.
He tripped, fell, and blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue. Resolutely he ran onwards, whimpering now, the taste of blood frightened him as though subconsciously he knew that if he did not run away from what he had seen, what he had witnessed, that he would suffer far worse than a bitten tongue.
He could hardly breathe now. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and saw the blood and blinked back tears from his cheeks and sweat from his brow, leaving smears of blood across his face. He was stumbling forwards. His heart was pounding so hard that it filled his ears like the crescendo from a bass drum beating louder and louder in his head.
He turned and glanced behind him but tears filled his eyes and blurred his vision. He was staggering forwards, his legs were dull and heavy, he could barely lift one foot before the other and then everything went black and he felt himself falling…….falling……falling
And everything was black and he was shivering and knew fear!
Fear engulfed him and paralyzed him and by sheer mental effort he threw himself forward.
A light hovered close by and he blinked and raised his hand to shield his eyes which he narrowed to ascertain exactly who was approaching him. He was cold and groped forward with his hand and felt the edge of carpet beneath his fingers and floorboards beyond that….a hand touched his shoulder gently
“Are you all right, son?”
“Yes, Pa. I had a bad dream.”
“And fell out of bed….” Bens voice held a note of concern as he watched his son rather embarrassingly haul himself to his feet.
“Yeah, seems so,” Adam rubbed his head and frowned, wondering what he had banged it against.
“Was it the same dream as the other night?” Ben set down the lamp and pulled back the covers, rearranging them with the expert hand of a parent who had spent years at the task.
“Similar.”
“In what way?”
“I was running away from something I had seen, something that terrified me….I fell and bit my tongue and there was blood in my mouth.”
“But you were safe?”
“I don’t know…I fell, I can remember falling….then I landed on the floor and found that I had done just that and fallen out of bed.” He gave his father a sheepish grin “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“I heard you calling out”
“Calling out?” Adam frowned and bit his bottom lip “What was I saying?”
“You were calling out for me…” Ben said quietly and he shook his head and smiled gently “It probably meant nothing; try and get back to sleep” he leaned forward and picked up the oil lamp “Good night, son”
“Good night, pa”
The door closed and plunged the room into darkness. Slowly, as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark Adam saw the darkness fade to gray and familiar shapes formed around the room. He folded his arms behind his head on the pillow and stared at the window through which he could see the moon and the stars….he watched as the moon slid shyly behind a cloud and the grayness of the room became blackness once again.
How often had he had this dream now? For several months at least once a week, but lately it had increased to twice in a few days and this time…he closed his eyes and tried to think of the dream again but it was elusive now, all he could remember was that he was running away and his chest hurt and that he had stumbled and fallen onto the ground. He could feel himself drifting back into sleep………….
He had fallen onto the ground and his heart was hammering against his ribs as though raging against its imprisonment behind them. He could not move and the pain made his throat and ears ache. He could sense their approach. He could feel their feet making the earth tremble beneath his fingers. Someone grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back
“You ever say one word of what you saw and I swear we’ll hunt you down and kill you, Adam Cartwright!”
“Doesn’t matter where you go…we’ll find you…we’ll hunt you down and kill you….” Hissed another voice close to his ear.
He had his eyes shut tight, forcing himself not to cry out in pain, or fear…never show fear to anyone, that was what pa always said…and then they were gone and he was left panting and trembling and feeling sick with the fear that he felt.
He woke up again and struggled to retain the words that had rang out so loudly in his head just seconds before….his eyes moved to the direction of the window through which an early morning sun was rising to greet a new day…
He sat up and buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he should go and see Paul, perhaps he would understand why he kept having this recurring dream! He yawned as he heard the footsteps of his brother, Hoss, crash along the landing and the thud of his brothers’ fist against the door to make sure he was awake. He rubbed his cheeks and his jaw, realizing how they ached, as though during the night he had slept with them clenched so tightly that it pained him still. Joe’s lighter footsteps passed along the landing, Joe was whistling – a new day had dawned and Joe was happy. Adam stretched, for some reason, he felt the day to be full of foreboding.
**********
“All right, son?”
Bens anxious voice made his other two sons turn to face Adam as their elder brother came down the stairs.
“You’re late…saved you some pancakes,” Hoss mumbled, jabbing in the direction of the few still on the plate, looking pale and greasy and uninteresting and Adam frowned and forced a smile of thanks as he pulled out his chair and sat down.
“Coffee?” Joe asked, unusually kindly so early in the morning and Adam cast a suspicious look at his brother before nodding and muttering his thanks. “How about some bacon and eggs?”
“No..er…yes, thanks.” Adam frowned and picked up his cup and gulped down the dark liquid and felt the bitter taste of it hit the back of his throat. He glanced up and saw Hoss’ anxious eyes on him, and noticed the swiftness with which Hoss turned his head so as not to be noticed by his older brother.
Adam looked at his father who was reading a letter with a slight frown. Joe produced the bacon and eggs and smiled again at his brother as he placed the plate on the table
“Mind the plate, it’s hot,” he said gently
“What’s going on?” Adam asked suspiciously “I don’t usually get this kind of treatment…not unless there’s something you want me to do for you.”
“Adam, you’re too suspicious for your own good,” Hoss counseled “Shucks, talking thataway, you could upset our little brother here if’n you keeps on thataways.” He shook his head sadly whilst he tucked into his platter of food.
“Would I ever?” Adam scowled, glancing over at Joe who immediately adapted an injured air and sighed heavily “All right? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Joe muttered
“Nope, nuthin’,” Hoss said but his words got wrapped around a loud rumble of a burp at the same time, he pretended not to have noticed his fall from grace, even though Ben cleared his throat very loudly and scowled over at him. He picked up some bacon on the tines of his fork and engulfed it in one mouthful
“One day you’ll choke,” Adam said calmly
“Never…it’d be a waste of good food.” Hoss grinned.
“Hey!” Joe sat upright, and stabbed the air with his fork in Adams direction “Ain’t you and pa going into town today…to see the teacher with the rest of the School Board?”
“Don’t remind me,” Adam winced, realizing that he had forgotten, and now the day seemed certainly doomed!
“Shucks. I don’t envy you,” Hoss paused in shoveling food into his mouth to glance sadly at his brother and then sideways on to his father who was folding the letter back into its envelope “Reckon if Mr. Crook had ever been my teacher, I’d have eloped!”
Joe burst into a sharp staccato burst of laughter and even Adam, despite his black mood, gave a chuckle
“Eloped?” Joe shrieked “Eloped? Who with? Miss Abigail Jones?” he gurgled
“Shucks no,” Hoss blushed and shook his head “You know what I mean well enough, Joe; jest quit the foolin’ around!”
“Do you mean you’d have played truant?” Adam suggested, a smile on his face and feeling more relaxed at last
“Yeah, that’s the word, only I wouldn’t be playing, I’d be deadly serious.”
This statement elicited another round of chuckles from his brothers and even Ben permitted himself a smile at his sons expense. Hoss frowned and stabbed at his food
“What I mean to say is, that from what I hear, Mr. Crook is the kind of teacher no kid should have to suffer.”
“Yeah, I agree with you there, Hoss,” Joe replied “From the things I’ve heard Peter Crook shouldn’t be allowed ten miles near a school house.”
“He gets results,” Ben said quietly “I’ve heard a lot of good reports about him.”
“Oh sure, but what about the bad reports?” Joe glanced at his father and then at Adam who seemed preoccupied with thoughts of his own “He even gives the little girls a hiding if they dare to disobey any of his rules..”
“He has to maintain discipline, Joe,” Adam muttered
“The kids I’ve met in town have been asking me if you would go back and teach them again,” Joe said, pushing his food around his plate and his voice a decibel or so lower in tone “When you recall the trouble you caused…”
“That’s fer sure,” Hoss grinned “Got poor Charley shot! All those years he was the sole survivor of that massacre no one knew about ‘ceptin’ Chaffee and Colonel Scott and you come along and pow – no more Charley.”
“Don’t remind me,” Adam sighed and frowned darkly, he bit his bottom lip and shook his head “It was a mess from start to finish and I wish to high heaven I had never got to know about it.”
“I think Charley would have wanted folk to know,” Ben said quietly “It may have been unfair justice, but it was some form of justice, some attempt at retribution that he had never experienced before.”
“He never got to have much time to enjoy it though, did he?” Adam said bitterly.
“Yeah, well…” Hoss glanced warily around the table, realizing they had taken the lid off a topic that would have been better left alone “At least Chaffee got his just desserts, and Colonel Scott has tried to make some amends.”
“Sure, he came off the School Board and the Board of the Mining Committee….that should make us all feel mighty proud of him, shouldn’t it?” Adam said testily and he pushed himself away from the table, throwing his napkin down as he did so.
“Well, at least we managed to get a school teacher who isn’t afraid to stand up for his rights…or the rights of his school children,” Ben said quietly, standing up and pushing himself away from the table. “Peter Crook may be a stricter disciplinarian that either of you would have liked had you been in his class room, but the standard of education has improved during the six months he’s been here, and if he gets his way today, then the school house will soon be improving in appearance and there will be more equipment available for the students than there has been for a decade.”
“He’s also lost nearly a third of the students,” Adam replied quietly as he buckled on his gunbelt “Some of the children refuse to go to school while Crook is the teacher, and their parents are backing them up.”
“That’s something for us to discuss with the Board today,” Ben replied, taking down his hat and he looked up and glanced over at his other two sons “Are you two checking fences down at the south east creek today?”
“Yep,” Hoss sighed, pouring out another cup of coffee
“Then don’t you think you should both be getting started? By the time you get there at this rate, it’ll be time to turn back and head for home and supper,” Ben smiled, the smile of a father proud of his sons, all three of them, and Joe, catching the smile, gave a twinkling smile of his own back to his parent.
“Sure, Pa, we’ll be right on our way…c’mon, Hoss. Joe strolled over to the bureau and picked up his gunbelt and looked at his elder brother and frowned. “I hope your day goes well, Adam,” he said quietly
“No reason why it shouldn’t,” came the terse reply, and then Adam bit his lip and glanced down at Joe and smiled, “Thanks, Joe.”
He was first to leave the house, so did not see the anxious glances that flitted between the three other men as he walked towards the stable. Nothing was said however, and all that he was aware of was the sound of the door closing behind them and the sound of their feet following him to where the horses were waiting.
**********
Ben and Adam enjoyed a leisurely ride to town and rode down the Main Street in sunlight, touching their hats politely in salute to the women they knew and nodding to the men. It was not a busy time of day, and Mr. Cass was still arranging his wares outside the General Store as they rode past him, Sally waved from the window and was greeted with a smile from both men.
At the school house, Mr. Hawkins was waiting, hat in hand and an anxious look on his face which Ben noted immediately, and in order to put his old friend at ease, he slipped on the cloak of bonhomie to make whatever Hawkins needed to say, easier for him to say it.
“Well, Jack, don’t tell me we’re too early? Or are we too late and everyone else gone home?” Ben flashed a smile, but his eyes were wary.
Jack Hawkins glanced over at Adam, who had dismounted from Sport and was standing close behind his father. Adam did not bother to pretend, he was too honest to be so patronizing, or perhaps not a good enough strategist to employ such tactics, he just narrowed his eyes and looked at the man and adopted a waiting attitude with his head to one side and his back straight
“’Morning, Ben, Adam. No – er – you’re in good time, Ben. Everyone’s here..but..there’s kind of a hitch in proceedings?”
“What hitch would that be, Mr. Hawkins?” Adam asked in a rather clipped tone of voice, whilst his eyes glanced over at the hobbled horses as though implying they could give a more straightforward answer to his question .
“Mr. Crook has asked that Adam did not attend this meeting. He said…that if Adam stepped into the school room, he would leave!”
Ben and Adam looked at one another in astonishment; this was something that neither of them had anticipated. Then they looked at Hawkins, who was biting his lip anxiously.
“Did he give any reason?” Ben asked
“No, but he was very insistent.”
“I bet he was,” Adam hissed between clenched teeth and he slapped his hat back onto his head and turned on his heel, Ben grabbed at his arm to prevent him leaving, only to have it shrugged away.
“Listen, Jack, if Adam isn’t allowed in to this meeting, then I shan’t attend it either.”
“No, Ben, we really need you there. We have – have to comply with the rules, sufficient numbers to make up a quorum and – Adam, I’m jest real sorry about this but….”
“Don’t apologize, Mr. Hawkins; there’s no need. I’ll wait for you in the saloon, Pa.” Adam forced a smile and nodded affirmation to his father, who seemed undecided as to what to do, so that Adam had to look his father in the face and insist on his going on into the meeting “You’ll more than likely find out what it is that is worrying Mr. Crook, Pa, whereas if you don’t attend, we may never know and the whole thing could get worse.”
“I guess you’re right, son, but I’m not going to let him get away with it. I’ll make a formal complaint,” Ben growled
Adam said nothing but just nodded, gave his father a grim smile, then tilted his hat at Hawkins and left. He vaulted into Sports saddle and turned the horses head back towards the Main Street of town.
“Do you now what it’s all about, Jack?” Ben asked his old friend as they made their way up the steps of the school house.
“No idea, Ben, but one thing I do know already, it doesn’t pay to upset Mr. Crook.” He gave Ben a long sideward look that made Ben frown and nod rather thoughtfully to himself.
**********
Peter Crook stood by the teachers desk on the slightly raised platform with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked rather more like a bull ready to lock horns with the matadors in an arena, than a school teacher of a prosperous gold boom town.
He was short of stature but stockily built and seemingly with little or no neck of which to speak. His face was florid, with the high color of a man choleric by nature. The dark eyes, piercingly bright, gleamed almost malevolently in their deep set sockets beneath black beetling brows. A strong nose with flaring nostrils, and a harsh gash of a mouth beneath which was a strong, square jaw. His near black hair was thinning on the top, but full around the back, making what neck he did posses seem to disappear altogether.
His eyes flicked up as the door opened, and when he saw Ben Cartwright and Jack Hawkins walk down the aisle towards him, he allowed a flash of triumph to gleam from the startlingly dark orbs. Other than that there was no movement of conciliation, warmth or friendliness from him. He remained standing as he had been before, his hands clasped behind his back, his short squat legs slightly apart and his chin thrust forwards as though he were mentally prepared to do battle with all and any who challenged him.
Ben had swept off his hat as he had entered the building, and greeted the other members of the Board with a hand shake and smile. After glancing over at the teacher, however, he merely nodded his acknowledgement of the man’s presence and pulled out a chair to sit down. The gesture was barely returned by the teacher.
Not for the first time did Ben wonder what had possessed the Board to take on such a man as Crook to replace Barbara Scott. He had been away on a cattle drive with the boys when the agreement had taken place, but as soon as he had seen Crook, he had felt grave misgivings as to the wisdom of his being in such an important position in the town. Every meeting he had had with the man since, whether social or on school business, had only strengthened his dislike, and unease, about him. However, his was but one voice, and the other members had seemed disinclined to agree with him, or Adam. Now, with Adam disbarred from the meeting, Ben felt oddly isolated.
“Let’s call this meeting to order, shall we, gentlemen?” Hawkins asked. He glanced around the table, and then at Crook, who only then condescended to leave the platform and descend to their level, taking a seat around the table with them.
**********
Adam glanced about the saloon as he entered through the swing doors, and it was with a feeling akin to relief that he saw Paul Martin, nursing a glass of whiskey, reading some medical notes. He ordered himself a glass of beer, and after paying for it, he took himself over to the table
“Busy, Paul?”
“Not that much….pull yourself up a chair, Adam.” The doctor glanced up at the younger man and smiled, taking off his spectacles as he did so. “I thought you’d be at the School Board Meeting now?”
“Pa’s gone…” Adam allowed his voice to trail away, a quick glance at Paul’s face had been enough to convince him that the doctor already knew that he had been barred from the meeting. He brought the glass to his lips and swallowed a draught of it. He set the glass down and looked over at the doctor, who had been a friend to the Cartwrights since he had moved in several years before “Any idea why?”
“Why what?”
“Why Crook did not want me to attend that meeting?”
“Ah! Yes,” Paul tugged at his ear lobe “When we get to the subject of Mr. Crook, we’re talking about a very complex situation.”
“How complex?” Adam leaned forward, his arms on the table and his hands cradling the half filled glass
“You’ve met him?” It was half question ,half statement and Paul looked into the young mans face intently as he awaited the answer
“Yes, I have, several times now.”
“And how does he strike you?”
“Me?” Adam gave a half smile accompanied by a slight snort of derision “I’ve not a very good opinion of Mr. Crook, just now.” he glanced up at the Doctor “Why’d you ask?”
“Have you met his wife?”
“About twice! Both times she looked at me as though I were the lowest form of snake.”
“You’re talking about a woman who could make vinegar taste sweet,” Paul sighed, and he took a lingering gulp at the whiskey in his glass
“They’ve children, haven’t they?”
“Peter Junior and Paul.” Paul Martin glanced over at the counter to where several men were lounging. One of them had glanced over at them and then started whispering to the others in a low tone, but obviously about the doctor and his companion….or perhaps, just his companion. “Listen, let’s go to my office, it’ll be more private.”
“If you wish,” Adam replied, draining his glass and standing up to follow the doctor from the saloon. A hush settled upon the few men there, the saloon girls, glanced up and at them from under heavily painted eyes, but they said nothing. Adam gave a slight frown but if he noticed anything worth commenting upon he kept his own counsel and quietly followed the doctor from the building.
The office was not far down Main Street, and they walked together in companionable silence. It was not long before they were sitting in the office on opposite sides of the desk, and Paul smiled and offered Adam a cup of coffee, an offer the younger man refused.
“What’s going on, Paul?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know, Adam. But there are rumors going around town about you, and not very favorable either.”
“In what way?”
“Rumors about you being a murderer…a coward….someone who kills and then runs…”
Adam said nothing; he barely moved, only the dark eyes betrayed any reaction and that was by going shades darker until they were as black as an Indian’s. The word ‘runs’ and what it meant, what it implied, triggered a memory in his mind. He then gave a slight shrug and looked at the doctor
“Well, where do these rumors come from, do you know?”
“You know what rumors are like, Adam. It just takes one person to hint at something and then it snowballs from there and no one knows or remembers the origin of it. At the moment…“
“What do you mean, at the moment?”
“Just that at the moment your reputation here is solid. You’ve built up a solid, honest name, along with your family, and the older townsfolk and settlers here know that. It’s the newer ones who move into town that seem to have brought the story along with them.”
“Crook you mean?” Adam snapped out the name and narrowed his eyes.
“Maybe, maybe not….but someone set the ball rolling. Crook has his teeth into it and is prepared to, as he put it, keep his children clean from contamination.” Paul frowned “Of course, what happened here the other month when you were the stand-in teacher for Miss Scott did not help; that just fed the whole story”
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“No, but an upstanding citizen lost his good name, and two men were killed.”
Adam slouched back in the chair and frowned. He glanced up at the ceiling and then at Paul Martin who was looking too intently at his own fingernails to appear in any way comfortable with the interview.
“And is it because he is a fine upstanding righteous minded man that Crook is fuelling this story about me?”
“I don’t think Mr. Crook comes into any of those categories, Adam. But he is using it to suit his own ends, and his wife does her bit too…amongst the women.”
Adam sighed and shook his head thoughtfully, before looking out of the window which was behind Paul, and from where he could see people passing too and fro, going about their daily business without an apparent care in the world. Children ran by, whooping and shouting with glee; it was a weekend, free from school, free from the books. He returned his gaze to the doctor
“Who was I supposed to have killed?”
“No one says…but the fact is, Adam, you have killed men.”
“Paul?” Adam stood up and shook his head “This is a country that doesn’t abide by moral laws that govern the consciences of nice people back east. If a man isn’t prepared to protect himself, his family or his land, he may as well step back and get mown down. I’ve only ever shot a man down in self defense; you know that!”
“Adam, most of the ranchers, settlers and townsfolk here have had to do the same, and it’s a miserable statement of fact that life is held so cheaply. But the newer ones moving here are expecting different standards; they are expecting a conformity with the places they have left behind them.”
“They’ll have to wait awhile for that,” Adam said quietly “No one takes a life for pleasure, Paul, not unless they’re sick in the head”
“Well, look, if I get to hear of anything else, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, don’t let it worry you.” Paul smiled good humouredly, standing up and putting a firm friendly hand on Adams shoulder as he did so, “Although even so, I would be careful if I were you around Crook. I doubt if you’ll ever make a friend of him!”
Adam nodded and said nothing , although it crossed his mind that he could never see the day when he would want Peter Crook to be his friend anyway!
Adam walked slowly to his horse and looked up at the sun. He knew that it would not be long before Ben would be joining him, so it would be best to wait for him there. Sport turned, looked at him and snorted softly. It was when he reached out to stroke the sleek neck that he noticed the slip of paper that was tucked under the saddle blanket, a white triangle peeking through to draw attention to it. Glancing around, he withdrew it slowly and opened it.
“The Good Book says ‘Vengeance is mine; I shall repay, smith the Lord’ but my patience has long run out and I do not intend to wait much longer!”
He read it through twice over and then glanced about him once more. No one broke their stride as they walked by him, nor glanced uneasily in his direction, or paused out of curiosity to see his reaction to the note. He frowned and refolded it carefully, before slipping it into his pocket. He eased his shoulders back, his left and then his right, and turned uneasily, as though aware that someone out there could well be aiming at his back with a rifle. His eyes roved over the rows of windows in the hotel, the saloon, the stores….
“Daydreaming, Adam?”
Bens voice broke through his surveillance. He turned to his father and gave him a thin smile. Ben frowned and looked around him
“Finished here for the day, son?”
“Yes, sir, you could say that.”
“I collected the mail on the way here,” Ben tapped the top pocket of his jacket and turned to watch as Adam mounted onto Sport “You looked as though you were miles away when I came up just now. Is everything all right?”
Adams lips parted, then closed…he glanced away from his father and shook his head, and as he rode past his father he did not notice the way his fathers face fell into anxious, stern lines and the dark eyes followed the younger man as he rode ahead of him.
“The meeting went well, Adam,” Ben said as they jogged their way out of town
“That’s good”
“Crook was extremely affable, for him…and he seemed grateful that we had honored his request.”
“Good.”
“But all the same, he’s an unpleasant character.”
“Yes, I agree.”
Ben nodded, and bit his bottom lip, it was obvious that Adams thoughts were elsewhere, and details about the school teacher, the school board and the meeting were far from his mind. He was two-thirds wrong in his assumptions
************
Hoss Cartwright stood at the door of the house and looked across to the dark figure leaning against the corral fence. For some minutes he looked upon his brother and wondered what it was that was gnawing at him to such an extent that he was even more withdrawn than usual. After awhile he took a deep breath and walked across the yard to join his brother in a companionable silence.
Side by side they stood together, their arms folded over the top rail of the corral and their eyes fixed to a destination far beyond where the line of trees obscured the horizon. Hoss, after casting copious sidelong glances at his brother, took a deep breath and ventured to ask Adam what it was that was worrying him, and., if there was anything, then could he, Hoss, be of any help in the matter.
Without a word, Adam drew the note from his pocket and passed it over to Hoss who read it quickly in the diminishing light of evening tide.
“Shucks, that’s some kind of odd letter. Reckon it to be some kind of warning?”
“I think so,” Adam intoned, taking the letter back and slipping it into his pocket and then, with a sigh, he resumed his posture against the corral fence.
“Told Pa about it?”
“Nope.” Adam pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows
“Don’t you reckon you ought to?”
“P’raps.” Adam began to chew his bottom lip whilst his eyes remained fixed on a far off point amongst the trees
“Adam?”
“Yeah?”
“D’you reckon this has anything to do with those dreams you bin havin’?”
Adam said nothing to that but pursed his lips again and then shook his head. Then he looked at Hoss as though seeing him for the first time that evening
“What do you know about my dreams, Hoss?” he asked finally
“I heard ya,” Hoss looked down at the ground and scuffed the dusty soil into a small mound with his foot, before flattening it again “Sometimes during the night when I go down to the kitchen….I peeked inta ya room once or twice ta make sure you were okay…sure were tossing about some and yelling…”
“What was I yelling?”
“Don’t ya know?”
“Would I ask if I did?”
Hoss frowned and shrugged, and then turned his eyes from his brothers face to look over at the darkening horizon. “Jest calling out for pa mostly…once you yelled ‘Leave me alone’.” He shrugged. “Bout all I can remember”
“Hoss?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you heard any talk about me in town…you know, vindictive talk , making out I killed someone and then ran .” Adam looked at his brothers profile and watched how Hoss’ knit his brows in concentration in an effort to recall anything. When Hoss shrugged again and the honest face cleared of any emotion other than concern, Adam nodded “I just wondered.”
“Seems an odd kinda thing to be wondering about, brother.” Hoss sighed “Is that – does that – have anything to do with that letter?” He jerked a thumb in the direction of Adams breast pocket
“I don’t know…maybe.”
“We’ve all bin guilty of killin’.” Hoss frowned and clasped his hands in a gesture of prayer, whilst he stared, like his brother, at the trees that were rapidly fading into the darkness “Shot down folk without even knowing their names nor kin…what’s a man to do when the law of the gun rules? Stand still and be shot down? It’s a risk we all have to take, Adam, every time we go into town!”
“I know,” Adam bowed his head
“People talk all the time; you don’t usually take no notice of rubbish like that?”
“I know,” Adam repeated slowly and narrowed his eyes and looked thoughtfully at his brother “But Doc Martin told me, and he seemed to attach some significance to it all.”
“Aw, what’s he know about life for the likes of us? Folk respect him ‘cos he’s the doc, but he still has a rifle in the buggy when he rides outa town….and he’d use it too.” Hoss grinned at the mental imagery that flashed into his head, that of the good doctor shooting down some assailant and then scrambling down from the buggy to patch the fellow up with bandages and liniments.
Adam smiled, seeing a similar picture in his own mind, then he slapped his brother on the back in a friendlier manner than he had done for some days
“Let’s go on inside,” he suggested “It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, and I could do with a good nights sleep. I’m that beat.” Hoss yawned loudly and stretched, reaching up to the sky with his hands .
They both paused at the sound of a horse trotting slowly into the yard and through the darkening night Joe emerged, guiding Cochise lazily towards the stable. He drew up at the sight of his brothers and nodded a greeting
“Have a good evening?” Hoss ventured to ask
“Not as good as I had hoped,” Joe muttered, dismounting now and leading Cochise forwards. “Lost most of my money to some new four flusher in town, then Daisy went swanning off with the guy. Sure was his night and not mine…..” He glanced thoughtfully over at Adam, and then frowned “Crook was in the saloon.”
“The school teacher, you mean?” Hoss asked, his eyebrows shooting up
“Who else?” Joe replied, twisting the reins of the horse in and out of his fingers, he glanced hurriedly over at Adam again and then squared his shoulders as though he were about to take on some prize fighter “He sure has a thing against you, Adam.”
“How’d you mean?” Adam asked with that clipped tone of voice that meant trouble for someone and Joe sighed
“He was saying how he used to know you back along and how he heard you killed someone, and then ran…didn’t have the guts to stay and take your punishment!”
“I hope…” Hoss growled, stepping forward with his fists clenched and his jaw thrust forwards in such a manner that anyone else would have laughed, but not Joe nor Adam, the latter of whom placed a restraining hand on his brothers chest
“Of course I did! I got up and walked right up to him and said ‘That’s my brother you happen to be back stabbing, mister!’ and he looked me in the eye and said “I know that!” So I said ‘Then you had best take them words back or I’ll make you swallow each and every one of them .’ ‘How do you intend to do that’ he replied and the next thing I know someone was jabbing me in the back with a pistol and two other guys sprung up from nowhere and flanked him. ‘My brother never killed anyone and ran from the consequences; he’s no coward, never was and never will be.’ Then he just looked me up and down as though I were dirt on his boot and told me to take myself off home.”
They were silent for a few seconds and then Adam nodded, as though to himself, and placed a gentle hand on Joe’s shoulder
“Thanks, Joe, I appreciate your standing up to him on my behalf.”
“He told me to tell you, that he had never forgotten you….nor what you did.”
“Really ? Then he has the advantage over me. I can’t recall him…nor what it was I apparently did.” Without another word, Adam walked slowly back into the house.
Joe looked at Hoss and then back to his eldest brother and sighed. He looked at Hoss once more. “Do you think this could get serious?” he asked
“I think it already got serious,” came Hoss’ honest reply and with a sigh the big man walked to the house.
**********
“Can I help you in some way?”
The woman turned her head and looked at the speaker and then smiled. A pleasant smile. But then she did like what she was looking at….a tall, broad shouldered young man, with an attractive smile, dark brown eyes and black hair that curled close to the nape of his neck. The black shirt he wore cast a somber shadow over an overall very attractive picture, and the gun belt that fitted snugly around his hips was a non too subtle reminder that her new world was quite different to the one she had left behind her.
“Thank you. I would be very grateful if you could help me and take some of these packages…“ she indicated the boxes at her feet. “If you could take some of them, then I shall be able to take the others without any trouble at all.” She paused and then struck out her hand. “I’m Harriett, Harriett Davies, your new Pastors wife.”
“I’m Adam Cartwright,” he replied and shook her hand and then began to pick up the parcels and boxes that were piled on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry I wasn’t on hand to catch these before you dropped them; I hope nothings broken”
“It would be my fault if they were. I should not have been so ambitious as to try and carry everything home. I was just so glad to get them. John said not to bring them along with everything else; he thinks of my work as – well – rather a waste of time and money, I suppose, but he means well.”
“You’re an artist?”
“I suppose the easel gave the game away?” she laughed, a pleasant tinkle of a laugh.
“It did rather.” He smiled and hoisted the item further upon his shoulder in order to have the other packages more evenly balanced for him to carry.
They walked along the main street towards the clapboard house close to the church and as they neared the building Adam was able to hear the yells and laughter of children. He glanced at his companion and noticed the soft smile on her lips broadening as they neared the gate to her home
“Your children?” he asked, pushing the gate open with his foot
“All three.”
Up the steps and through the door and then, gratefully, able to abandon the packages and boxes and easel. She turned then, and smiled as she pulled off her bonnet, and once again surveyed him from head to foot and nodded
“Coffee, Mr. Cartwright?”
“Well, I should be getting back….”
“Nonsense. I’d like you to meet my brood and I’d like the chance to get to know you better. John won’t be long; he’s just visiting the teacher to arrange for the boys to attend school .” She smiled again, and patted her chestnut hair into some semblance of order, although Adam rather thought that no amount of patting would ever manage to collect every stray wisp back into place.
He sat down, feeling much like a school boy himself doing as his teacher had bidden him. He twirled his hat round and round in his hands and looked around the room whilst with half an ear he could hear her calling out some names…there were paintings on the wall, some of children’s faces sketched in charcoal and which he assumed, quite rightly, to be those of her own children. Other pictures showed a garden full of summer colors, flowers and butterflies and trees in blossom. Otherwise the room showed the usual clutter and chaos of a family recently moved in and with still a lot of work involved in transforming the house into their home. Boxes and furniture still under dust sheets were strewn here and there in a disarray and he frowned and thought how much the room seemed to reflect the personality and character of its new mistress, who could not even keep her hair under control.
She returned much like a frigate with her sails at full mast, followed by a small flotilla …two boys and a girl. When she stopped they stopped, and hurried to stand in line by her side. Adam stood up and straightened his back and surveyed them with the same scrutiny with which they surveyed him
“This is Jeremy….Jeremy, say hello to Mr. Cartwright.”
Jeremy stepped forward and held out his hand and smiled, a handsome boy of ten who had his mothers coloring and piercing blue eyes.
“How do you do, Mr. Cartwright.” He had freckles massing across his cheeks and nose, and his dark hair flopped rebelliously over his brow, as fast as he pushed it away, so it would flop back. It seemed to be a constant battle and Adam wondered why his mother never got hold of some scissors to cut the whole thing off.
“This is James.” James was helped forward by a firm push between his shoulder blades. He scowled up at his mother and wriggled away, before glaring at Adam, producing his hand and nodding a greeting
Adam shook the boys hand and smiled back, rather grudgingly the boy smiled in return. He was a thin faced blond haired boy with pale blue eyes and a ruddy complexion. He was eight years old and Adam wondered, briefly, how the boy would fare with Mr. Crook as his teacher.
“I’m Amy!” piped up the girl bouncing up to him with a dimpled grin, exposing a lack of two front teeth.
“I’m Adam,” he replied and shook her hand
“I’m five.” She tossed back her dark ringlets and her gray eyes twinkled up at him, even at five she was a born coquette and didn’t care who knew it.
“That’s enough…off you go, go and play,” the mother ordered, clapping her hand as though she had at least thirty rather than just three to dispose off. They promptly scattered, returning to the garden with whoops and hollers of delight. She shook her head and sighed and then turned to him rather absent mindedly, as though now that he was there, she was rather unsure as to what to do with him, then she smiled and clicked her fingers
“Ah yes, coffee…..and I’ve some cake…”
“No, no…honestly, it’s quite alright, believe me…I had best go, I have chores to do…”
“But Mr. Cartwright, I can’t let you go without….”
Silence fell upon the room. It was rather similar to the effect a black cloud has on a bright summers day. It even brought a shiver down Adams spine and even before he turned to meet the Pastor he knew that he would not like the man.
“Good morning, my dear…we have a visitor I see.”
“John, this is Adam Cartwright. He kindly helped me carry my bits and bobs home…” Harriett declared, obviously quite undeterred by anything her husband said and oblivious to the method of his delivery. “I’m going to make some coffee; do you want some?”
“Yes, my dear.” He turned and nodded at her retreating back and then swiveled back to look at Adam. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Cartwright, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He paused, as though to let the significance of what he had said sink into the younger mans mind. He extended his hand which Adam accepted and shook hurriedly. “You’re Ben Cartwrights eldest son, aren’t you?” and he smiled .
He was a handsome man. Tall, well built and with startlingly gray eyes. His fair hair was thick and heavy and grew straight from a high brow. He had the face of a gentle man, a man of kindness and affability and when he smiled his eyes smiled too, which indicated that he was relaxed with this stranger in his home, and prepared to make him welcome as a friend. He was, in fact, so much the opposite of what Adam had anticipated that he wondered why he had assumed that he would feel such dislike for him, when in fact, John Davies was one of the most charming men he had met in a long time.
His handshake was firm and strong, of which Adam both liked and approved. And his hands were attractive, as indeed was his whole appearance. When Harriett re-entered the room with a tray of cups and pots he stepped forward immediately to relieve her of them and carried them to the table, an action that Adam respected and which made him smile.
“Sit down, Mr. Cartwright, you look as though you are planning to run for your life,” Harriett said, waving at a chair close by and indicating that he should make himself comfortable there. Her guest did as he was ordered and sat down quickly, discovering a book concealed beneath the dust sheet which caused some degree of discomfort but which he felt it proper to ignore.
“Well, Mr. Cartwright, you’re our first visitor…welcome to our home!” John raised the coffee pot in salute and began to pour out the hot liquid “I understand that your family were one of the first to settle around here.” He passed a cup of the dark bitter liquid to his guest who smiled upon accepting it. “It must have been an extremely tough time for you all.”
“It was by no means easy,” Adam replied rather shyly. He smiled over at Harriett who was settling down on a chair opposite him.
“How long have you been here?” she asked, looking at him with an intensity that made him feel uncomfortable
“Oh, I think I was about 8 or 9 when we arrived. This town was called Eagle Station then; it was little more than a settlement of a few clapboard shacks and a huddle of tarpaulin tents. There were some panhandlers about though; the Grosch brothers had panned for gold on the Washoe for years before we arrived. The Pauite lived more freely then too, but as the town grew and more and more gold and silver was discovered, new boundaries were drawn up and they have less freedom to roam”
“Do the Indians here cause any problems at all?” Harriett asked quietly, lowering her cup and her face registering a degree of alarm
“They’ve not done so for some time, ma’am”
“I’d hate to think that we had brought the children somewhere dangerous.” She frowned and sipped her coffee. It was obvious from the change of her mood that she was imagining a Pauite behind every shrub and tree beyond the town.
“They would not harm the children,” Adam said very quietly “Even when there has been trouble, the Pauite love children; you’ve nothing to fear from them, believe me.”
She glanced at John, her husband, and then back at the young man opposite her, and smiled slowly, but said nothing. John cleared his throat, a prelude to his deciding to speak now, and he leaned forward a little to do so
“What did your mother think of it here? When you came it was obvious far more dangerous and wild…did she settle all right? Was there a school for you and your brothers to be educated?”
“My stepmother moved here when I was about 11 years old, and she settled here very well, thank you. There was some kind of school established by then.”
“And I heard that you were the one that went to college?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“What did you study?”
“Architecture and engineering, but, if you don’t mind my changing the subject, Mr. Davies…what made you decide to come here?”
“Oh, not my choice personally.” John smiled broadly and his eyes twinkled “I doubt very much if I would ever have moved from New York had not our Bishop not allocated this diocese for me. We were due a change and decided that we would give it a try….if it is Gods will, then may His will be done….”
Adam nodded thoughtfully and finished his coffee and then stood up and picked up his hat. He looked at Mrs. Davies and then at her husband. From the garden came the whoops and yells of the boys and the lament of a child in distress and Harriett bounded up from her chair
“That’s Amy; those boys have probably got her tied to the washing line or something dreadful. Please excuse me, Mr. Cartwright….and do feel welcome to come at anytime.”
“Thank you, I shall.” He turned to go, aware that John was standing and ready to walk him to the door.
“I hope you’ll be happy here, Mr. Davies,” he said, as they paused at the front door
“I’m sure we shall be, and please, call me John.” He smiled again and extended his hand for the second time. Once again Adam accepted it and this time shook it more warmly, something that the Pastor noted for his smile widened and the creases around his eyes deepened. “Tell me, Mr. Cartwright…Adam…have you had any dealings with the school teacher as yet?”
“Not very much, sir. I have no children and …”
“I understood that you were on the school board?”
“I was before Mr. Crooks arrival, but I am not now.” Adam slipped his hat onto his head and glanced down the path at the sprawl of houses along the road, then he smiled, bade the Pastor farewell and walked back to the General Store.
He thought about the Davies family as he walked to where he had left Sport. They were friendly and warm, hospitable and carefree and so different from the school teachers family that his thoughts began to wander in that direction merely because of the difference. Not for the first time in his life did he ponder about the complexities of life, and the effects upon different personalities. He reached Sport whilst still deep in thought and was about to swing himself into the saddle when he noticed the slip of paper tucked into the seam of his saddle.
It had been two weeks since the last time he had been in town and received such a slip of paper. A trickle of apprehension shivered down his spine and he chewed the inner part of his cheek as he carefully opened it and read the sprawled message.
“Cartwright, don’t forget some people have long memories.”
He stared long and hard at the words, it was the same rough paper, the same crude way of writing. He glanced up and nervously glanced up and down the street, before tucking the paper into his waist belt. Then he mounted into the saddle and turned the horse in the direction out of town, and then rode slowly down the Main Street, his eyes constantly moving too and fro, wondering constantly who could possibly have written such a note amongst the people he had known for so long …..
A man came out of the Bucket of Blood saloon, and leaned against a post, a beer glass half filled in his hand. As Adam passed him, he raised the glass in salute, with a mean cold look in his small beady eyes and Adam, having noticed him, flicked his eyes back to the road. Peter Crook, mean spirited, and quick to talk and accuse…..could it be possible that the school teacher had written the notes, and if it were so, then why? What connection was there between himself and Peter Crook?
**********
Days ticked by with remorseless constancy. Time chased itself …and never caught up!
A week slipped by before Adam, and Joe rode back into town. It had been a busy week and the dreams that had haunted Adam so relentlessly for months had left him with seven nights of undisturbed sleep. The two brothers galloped into town without any particular cares nor anxieties on their minds and dismounted outside the General Stores. Joe rubbed his hands together and with a grin glanced up and down the street , his hazel eyes twinkled and he slapped his brother amicably on the back
“I’ll see you at the Bucket of Blood then about 12:30.”
“Don’t be late.”Adam smiled as Joe pushed back his hat and looked rather like the twelve year old boy his brothers took, often under protest, into town with them
“Am I ever?” Joe laughed, a clear ringing chortle that indicated the high spirits he was in that morning “I’ll collect the mail and do my errands and see you with two beers waiting on the table.”
“Make sure they are, and don’t forget we have to be home early this afternoon. Pa wants us to check over some horses.
“Okay, okay, I hadn’t forgotten.” Joe grinned and with a merry whistle on his lips he sauntered down the street to the Telegraph and Mail Office.
Adam watched his brother for a second or two and then walked into the store. Sally Cass saw the door open and glanced in his direction and smiled a welcome, before continuing to serve the lady by the counter. Harriett Davies and Barbara Scott were also in the store, chatting together in a pleasant manner, and as Adam tipped his hat politely something struck him in the leg and hung on tightly, so that had he taken another step he would have fallen; he glanced down and saw Amy Davies clinging to him like a limpet
“Adam, Adam – I bin waiting for to see you agin,” she cried, her eyes widening with delight at the sight of him
“I’m afraid my daughter is something of a hoyden, Mr. Cartwright; she decided last night that she was going to marry you when she was old enough. I hope you don’t mind?” Harriett smiled, her eyes crinkling pleasantly and by her side Barbara Scott laughed
“Now that’s a proposal you can’t refuse, Adam,” she said, her eyes scanning his face to see what reaction there would be to this situation. Barbara was an intelligent woman, she had been the school teacher for a while, a brief while, and was quite well qualified to teach anywhere she chose. Why she had chosen to remain in Virginia City after her uncle’s disgrace was still a mystery.
“I’ll bear it in mind.” Adam smiled and looked down at the little girl “It’s good to see you again, Amy.”
“Are you gonner come to my house agin soon?” the girl shrilled, tugging still at his leg.
“I daresay I shall.”
“Mommy will bake a cake if’n you do.” She turned large eyes to her mother and smiled. “Won’t you, Mommy?”
The sound of someone snorting in derision could not be ignored. All of them turned in the direction of the other woman who had turned to view them for a moment or two and had allowed the expression of disgust to escape her thin lips. She glared at them and picked up her basket before striding past them, both women and Adam watched her departure with some discomfiture. Harriett sighed
“Mrs. Crook seems as much out of temper as ever,” she murmured and turned to scrutinize more closely the bales of material stacked on the counter
“One of her sons was complaining of feeling unwell this morning,” Sally Cass explained, although her cheeks were a little redder than usual and she looked uncomfortable as she turned to Adam “Have you come for your order, Adam?”
“Is it ready?”
“It will be in about half an hour”
“I’ll come back for it then.” He tipped his hat and smiled and nodded over at Harriett and Barbara and quickly walked out of the store. He saw Mrs. Crook walking hurriedly across the main street and even as he stepped from the sidewalk she disappeared into the dressmakers
“Adam?”
He turned immediately, taking off his hat as Barbara Scott approached him
“Yes, Barbara?”
“It’s about Mr. and Mrs. Crook.”
“What about them?”
“Do you know of any reason why they should hate you so much?”
“Do they?” He stopped walking, and turned to face her and when she looked up into his face his dark eyes scanned her own and saw only anxiety and concern “I thought that.”
“Mr. Crook came to see my uncle the other day. Of course he wanted to know all about the situation with Sam Chaffee and Charley and your involvement….but uncle did not tell him too much. Then he said he was going to charge you with defamation of character and undermining his authority as a teacher in the town….Uncle asked him on what grounds could he put such claims and Crook said on the basis of what he knew about you and the fact that his students have more than once commented that they want you back as their teacher…”
“And what about your Uncle? I’m sure he must have had something to say on the matter?” Adam smiled thinly, although his eyes only darkened
“He said that you had proven to be an excellent teacher and that he had nothing but admiration for you, in every way possible.” She smiled now, her turn to smile without mirth and her eyes also darkened as she looked away from him “I think he was trying to make amends for the way things happened, Adam.”
“What was Crooks reaction?”
“He lost his temper apparently, he seems to have a very short temper. Uncle has got the impression that Crook is weeding out anyone in town who has a grudge against you, or your family.”
“Oh, well, he’ll find himself with quite a small army then,” Adam sighed and frowned and bit his bottom lip. “It was good of your Uncle to stand up for me; I do appreciate that, Barbara.”
“He’s trying to build bridges, but he’s not very good at it as yet.”
“Practice, they say, makes perfect.” Adam smiled again at her “Are you going to the library?”
“Yes, I was going to change these books.”
“In that case, I’ll walk along with you,” he said quietly.
**********
Peter Crook stood on the platform beside his desk and flexed the thin cane between his fingers. With his stocky legs wide apart, and his chest thrust out, he looked more than ever like an enraged bull about to explode. He viewed with dark little eyes the heads that were bent over their slates and books as each and every child there labored at their tasks. Each of them knew that were they to raise their heads and loiter for an instant, Crook would have his fat little fingers curling around their collars and have them hauled out to the front as an example of bad conduct before the whole class.
Oh how many tears were shed every morning as children begged their mothers not to send them to school. Little girls feigned sickness, clung to their mothers skirts and wept. Boys grumbled and groaned and threatened to play truant rather than go. Older boys just stayed home, persuading their fathers that there were chores to be done that were more important that any school work.
Crook viewed the bent heads, but he also viewed the empty desks and chairs that had been filled when he had arrived to take up his assignment as school teacher. For each empty desk and chair he blamed Adam Cartwright!
Jeremy and James Davies nudged one another and glanced sideways along to see how their neighboring students were getting along with their school work. In five short minutes the bell would sound for recess. They grinned over at one another and nudged each others foot for reassurance that playtime would soon be there.
Peter and Paul Crook, the teacher’s two boys, sat side by side, laboring over their school work. For as long as he could remember, Peter Junior had suffered being the student the other students hated most, even though such a label was totally undeserved. But he was the teacher’s eldest son and it was wrongly assumed, the teachers spy. Not for him the pleasure of being part of a gang of boys running out to kick a ball around, or group together to make innocent mischief. The fact that he looked so much like his mother, long faced, lantern jawed, thin lipped and narrow eyed, did not help either. He looked like a ferret, therefore it was assumed he would act like one. He dreaded recess. He hated the loneliness and the obvious dislike as one and all of the students, no matter what their age, turned away from him.
He had other concerns too weighing upon his mind. His brother, Paul, had woken that day feeling nauseous and feverish, but their father had insisted that no son of his ever became ill. Paul was forced to dress and walk to school alongside his brother and father. and now he sat beside his brother, sweating and grunting and wheezing. Peter Junior was praying earnestly that Paul could hold out long enough for recess before having to go to the out house and do whatever he had to do..
The crash of a desk being shoved to one side brought every child’s head up with a snap as they watched Paul Crook lurch from his seat and push the desk from him. They watched as the teacher lunged forward, barking as he did so “What do you think you’re doing, boy; get back into your seat!”
The teachers son! Breaths were sucked in with an audible hiss. Little girls huddled closer together. Every eye was fixed on the teacher as he lunged towards his son and grabbed his arm. Surely Paul Crook knew by now that no one left the class room without asking permission, in fact, no one dared to ask for permission. Everyone knew that you never moved, sneezed, coughed or needed to release your bladder in Mr. Crooks classroom. Would the teachers son have privileges that were never extended to the others?
“Lemme go! Lemme go!” Paul shrieked as the thin rod whistled and struck his rear
“You should know better….what kind of example are you…” and the rod whistled again.
“Leave him be.”
The three words brought silence like a shroud falling upon them all. Paul wrested himself free of his fathers clutches and ran from the room, he reached the door and vomited onto the step before fleeing into the yard. Inside the class room every eye now turned to the tableau before them as father and son stood face to face in front of the teachers desk
“What did you say?” Crook hissed
“I said to leave him be…he’s sick, ill. If you had any sense of decency, you would have noticed that this morning, but no, you had to insist he attend school, he wasn’t allowed the opportunity of staying home and getting well…you could have…” The rod whistled through the air and landed across the boys shoulders “Paul’s sick…you don’t even care!” the child cried, oblivious of his pain as anger gave him the courage to show the contempt and loathing he had for his father, this once in a lifetime chance that had come his way to prove to everyone there that he was not his fathers spy, nor his fathers toadie, he was just like them, a little boy who was frightened by a bully, the saddest thing being that the bully was his own father.
**********
“Look at that dumb fool kid!” some one yelled
“Git hisself killed if’n he don’t watch out!” another voice commented
Adam and Barbara paused in their stroll towards the library and glanced over to the sound of someone yelling. Hogan was trundling down the main street in his wagon; rickety as it was, it was making a fair speed towards the General Stores. He was driving along quite contentedly and minding his own business when suddenly a movement caught the corner of his eye and he saw the boy stumble.
Adam Cartwright moved from a standing position to top speed in a second. With a yell to Hogan to stop, which went unheeded amidst the melee that was occurring, Adam ran full pelt across the road, threw himself at the falling boy and rolled with him in his arms into the sidewalk. He lay there, his arms around the boy, shielding him with his body and waiting, braced, for the impact of either the horses or the wagon to pass over him.
Hogan veered, pulling with all his strength at the reins and using every ounce of body weight behind the action to pull and veer the horses over to the right. As they moved, a barrel of molasses toppled from the back of the wagon and smashed into the road, spewing its contents into the dirt and dust.
The horses pulled up but not before they had mounted the sidewalk opposite and overturned several barrels of apples, some sacks of potatoes, and several buckets that sent half a dozen mops skittering across the door of the store.
One of the mops fell onto Widow Hawkins who thought she was being attacked by a tousled headed lanky lad and, on that premise, went immediately into action with her parasol which she wielded to such good effect that Hank Purvis, who was passing by counting the money he had just taken from the bank, was forcibly jabbed in the stomach, back stepped five paces, toppled down two steps and lost his money (he found all but two cents within five seconds of the incident however and Widow Hawkins claimed that he even caught several coins before they even landed).
A small crowd gathered around Adam and the boy, whom Adam very gently raised up in his arms and lay across his knees as he felt the small body for any broken bones. Barbara, leaning over them, put a gentle hand on Adams shoulder
“It’s the school teachers youngest boy,” she said quietly
“You had better go and tell him, Barbara; his boy doesn’t look too well,” Adam replied, getting to his feet with the boy in his arms and striding hurriedly across the road to Paul’s surgery.
“Bless my soul,” whispered Widow Hawkins “I’d best go and tell Mrs. Crook…” and with a swish of her purple skirts, she hurried over to the dressmakers where Mrs. Crook had last been seen.
It was ten minutes later when Joseph Cartwright sauntered to where Sport and Cochise were nodding over the hitching rail. He paused a while, watching with some amusement the antics of Hogan and several other men as they attempted to clear up spilt molasses from the street. Then he checked his watch and realized he was running short of time; he stretched, flexed his arms and yawned. There seemed little point in hanging around much longer, he would go to the Bucket of Blood and order those beers. He grinned and pulled his hat lower and stroked Sports sleek neck. His fingers touched something sharp, and upon turning for a closer look he noticed a triangle of paper fixed to Adams saddle.
His first action was to look around for some sight of his brother but there was no sign of him anywhere. Next he scratched the back of his neck, peered beneath the brim of his hat and stroked his chin. Then he filched the paper from the saddle and with a grin, opened it. It would be fun to see just who Adams latest amour was….and what this little billet-doux had to say. perhaps a rendezvous? He grinned from ear to ear as he read the note, written in a neat hand he read: “Meet me at the corner of the livery stable alley…noon…I’ll explain everything when I see you.”
He rolled his hazel eyes in a mischievous gleaming air of curiosity. Well, it was just past noon now…he tapped his fingers upon his chest, as though weighing the pro’s and con’s of his actions and then with a grin on his face, he slipped the note into his jacket pocket and hurried to the assigned alley way.
There was no one there. He glanced about him and stepped further down to where the fire escape staircase to the livery stable cast a dark and sinister shadow. A slight rustle ahead and he grinned…that could only mean a lady was waiting…and now he was at the livery stable door and he stepped inside
“Hello?” he called in as close an imitation of his brothers voice that he could make.